Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Iwaki-san. You're so hot," Katou whispered.

Iwaki moaned softly, shifting slightly beneath his lover's gentle hands. Careful lips pressed to his forehead, brushing aside sweat-soaked hair. It was an effort to force his eyelids open, but the sight of Katou leaning over him with that warm look in his eyes and a tender smile on his face made it worth it. "Katou?"

"Shh," Katou whispered again, gently sweeping Iwaki's dark hair from his face with a soft, placating hand. He gave into temptation and leant in to steal a sweet, slow kiss from Iwaki's lips. Iwaki murmured a weak protest even as his own mouth sipped in return at Katou's, trembling slightly with the effort.

Sensibility reluctantly resurfaced. With as much strength as possible, no matter how ineffective, Iwaki pushed Katou away, his palms pressed firmly against the younger man's shoulders as Iwaki forcibly turned his head aside.

"No," he demanded, his cross voice rasping and his handsome face pulled together in an annoyed frown. "Katou, stop!"

"Iwaki-"

"No!" He was going to stay firm, be insistent. He was determined he was. "Katou, you have to work-"

"Iwaki-san, it doesn't matter-" Katou tried to cajole.

"Yes it does! Don't be a-" A sudden, rough cough caught him unaware, and for a few moments he could do nothing besides hack and wheeze until it passed. His eyes were watering as he glanced at Katou from beneath the fall of his hair. "Don't be a fool," he gasped, and tried to make it sound as stern as he could, regardless. "You can't afford to get sick too."

Again, he was treated to that magical expressiveness that had made Katou's face so famous, the subtle shift from petulant frown to thoughtful to a heartbreakingly tender smile in one fluid motion.

"Ah, Iwaki-san," Katou said softly, reaching out with one hand to absently tuck errant strands away from Iwaki's eyes. His eyes slowly became lit with naughty affection, and Iwaki was already cringing inside, waiting for whatever asinine statement was to come. "You really are super cute, really you are!"

Iwaki was quite prepared for his usual, abrupt comeback to such fatuous statements. He was not exactly prepared, however, for Katou to steal away both his thunder and his breath with another of his incredibly persuasive kisses, although really, he should have been.

When Katou pulled away, Iwaki was left feeling somewhat vulnerable and defenceless again, something he should be accustomed to given how often Katou took advantage of their relationship like this. Perhaps one day, this might be the case, but that day was not today.

"Katou," he growled warningly. Well, it was meant to be warningly, and certainly it would have been so if his voice hadn't chosen that moment to desert him altogether in favour of another biting cough.

Strong arms wrapped him, soothing him while he tried to bring his treacherous body to heel. They were warm, comforting, and he would be quite content to remain there for as long as he could, if it were possible. Surprised at how feeble he felt, he allowed Katou to settle him back against the pillows, his head dropping backwards, drained from the effort.

But Katou's gentle hands were there again, smoothing his dishevelled, damp hair away from his face, tugging at his pyjamas to straighten them into a less tangled state, drawing the blankets higher around him for warmth, but always touching him. Always, always touching him.

It made Iwaki smile, softer than he liked, but that hardly mattered right now. He could feel his eyelids drooping, struggling to stay open. His grey eyes instinctively sought out Katou's face each time he dragged them open again. And Katou was smiling at him, that wonderful, private smile that warmed Iwaki in places even a fever could not touch.

His smile widened, if a little tiredly. One hand moved across the bedcovers, seeking until it could wrap itself around his younger lover's, squeezing slightly in comfort.

Katou squeezed back, head canted to one side while he just gazed at his Iwaki-san. Entranced by the moment, he lifted the hand to his lips to brush them against the backs of Iwaki's fingers, and all the while his sherry-toned eyes remained locked with warm slate grey.

Iwaki regarded his lover carefully, beginning to realise he had little chance of holding out for much longer against the strength of the affection stealing into his heart. "Thank you," he mouthed as he squeezed Katou's hand again, then loosened his grip to let his hand drop back to the bedcovers.

There it was again: that expressiveness of Katou's. Although, this time it was little more than a flickering across the eyes that told Iwaki that Katou had noticed and was slotting into place this latest piece of the puzzle that was him and Iwaki with all the agility of his nimble, mercurial mind. And then it flitted away again.

"Here," Katou smiled broadly, retrieving a bed tray from the side table and placing it across Iwaki's legs. "Eat your soup."