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When Birthday wakes up, it's to a pounding headache, a cramp in his shoulder, and the uncanny sense that someone is glaring at him from across the room.
“Should've known,” he says, opening one eye and squinting at Ratio. “Ugh. I feel like shit.”
“I can't imagine why,” Ratio says dryly. There's something else in his voice – the pitch isn't quite right, but Birthday's head is still all fuzzy, he must've gotten hit really hard.
“I'll get you some water,” Ratio says. “Don't try to sit up.”
Birthday waits until he's gone, then sits up. The room spins for a minute, but then his head starts to clear, and he rubs ineffectively at his shoulder while he waits for Ratio to come back.
What he should do, he thinks, is have Ratio give him another back massage, but immediately following risking his life on a case probably isn't the best time to ask a favor of Ratio.
Ratio raises an eyebrow at him when he returns, and sets the glass of water down at Birthday's bedside. “You're as good at following directions as ever.”
Birthday grins, though it feels a bit like a grimace. “Hey, what's the worst that could happen?”
Ratio gives him a dark look, and doesn't respond.
The sun is coming up outside Birthday's bedroom window. He remembers tracking their target all day, being bored out of his mind outside that office building, then splitting up with Ratio when Murasaki had called about another case. Thinking that things were finally getting interesting when he'd followed the guy to the shipyard – and then, of course, the twins had showed up, the ones Nice was supposed to have dealt with, and things went to shit pretty fast.
“I was out for a while, huh?”
“Three and a half hours,” Ratio says, swallowing.
“Man.” Birthday scowls, leaning back against his pillows. Ratio must've gotten extra ones from somewhere, he normally sleeps with just one. “Fucking Armor Minimum. I thought those guys moved to Brazil, or something.”
“They've been freelancing, evidently,” Ratio says. “Their shoulder plates have the same weak spots. Nice and I made short work of them.”
“Lucky you,” Birthday says. “I got a building dropped on me.”
“Yes, you should probably refrain from insulting your opponents' mothers when you're outnumbered. Just a thought.”
“You're no fun,” Birthday sighs. “You should've at least woken me up to watch you take them down. Remember how they used to make fun of you?”
Ratio blinks. “Of course,” he says. “Is that why you went after them? Instead of waiting for me?”
“They were dicks to me too, you know,” Birthday says. “It's not always about you.” Now that he thinks about it, that's probably exactly why he tried to take them on with no backup, but Ratio doesn't need to know about that.
“They were dicks to you because of me,” Ratio points out. “They probably would've liked you, otherwise.”
Birthday feels uneasy, like there's something important he's missing from this conversation. Part of him knows Ratio is right, that he could've been pretty popular at the Academy if he hadn't been hanging around Ratio all the time. It's something Ratio had brought up once or twice, back then. But Birthday had never seen the point of that argument.
“Whatever,” he says. “I got kicked out anyways, so it doesn't matter. And now you've handed their asses to them, so everything worked out just fine.” He stretches his arms over his head, wincing only slightly. “Also I didn't get crushed to death, which is a plus.”
Ratio looks at the carpet.
“What?”
“I don't think we should split up anymore,” he says, after a moment. “Taking that call from Murasaki was a poor choice on my part.”
“Excuse you,” Birthday snorts. “I'm not that easy to get rid of, come on. They just got a lucky shot in.”
“Your Minimum was a very bad match for theirs,” Ratio says severely. “And it's not just that. We're clearly stronger together, we've done more with our powers combined than separately on multiple occasions.”
“Hey, if you want me to protect you, all you gotta do is ask.” Birthday swings his legs over the side of the bed and smirks up into Ratio's impassive expression. “Were you seriously worried?”
“You're impossible,” Ratio says.
“Are you blushing?” Birthday knocks his knee against Ratio's hip, trying to get him to make eye contact. It's been a while since they were close like this, in the dark and the quiet, with nothing to disturb them except the morning light creeping into the stillness. Ratio lets his guard down so seldom since they've been out of the Academy, but Birthday's always wondered.
“I'm just tired,” Ratio mumbles. “It was a long night.”
“Dummy. You should've slept.” He pokes Ratio's ankle with his toe. “Hey.”
“I was waiting for you to wake up,” Ratio says. “If you'd stayed unconscious any longer, I was going to take you to the hospital.”
“You were worried,” Birthday realizes. “Wow. I'm kind of offended that you think I'd let myself get taken out by those clowns.”
“Birthday,” Ratio says.
“I've been in way worse scrapes than this, remember the time with the Fire Minimum? Or that girl with the Thunder Minimum? Or that time in school when that visiting professor accidentally blew up the left wing of the – ”
“Birthday,” Ratio says again. “You don't have to remind me. I remember, probably better than you do.”
Birthday will give him that one. It sucks to be a genius with abandonment issues. “Why won't you look at me?” he asks, kicking him again. “I'm fine.”
Ratio murmurs something under his breath that sounds like, “Are you?”
Birthday flicks him on the forehead, right over his eyepatch. “Take it off,” he says confidently. “Find out for yourself.”
Ratio meets his gaze, finally, and Birthday's a little thrown to notice that his uncovered eye is misty, red like he's been rubbing at it.
He says, “No.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake. Don't be such a wuss.” Birthday reaches up to tug the eyepatch aside, and Ratio grabs his wrist. “Seriously?”
“You don't understand,” Ratio says. “When I take it off, I – I can still see it.” His fingers tremble against Birthday's arm. “Apparently I'm not that easy to get rid of, either.”
“You never told me that,” Birthday says quietly. He knew his illness was a time bomb, he's always known that, but to think that Ratio's known it all along...
“It could just be residual glimpses that I'm seeing,” Ratio says defensively. “I never look for long.”
“It's not,” Birthday says, too surprised to remember to lie.
Ratio lets go of his wrist. “I know.”
“Huh.” This...changes things. Birthday cocks his head, studies Ratio intently. “I have a weird question.”
Ratio narrows his eyes. “Go on.”
“It's about Sonnets of the Moon. There was a big reveal in the last episode, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.”
Ratio heaves a sigh. “You and your soap operas. Fine, I'm listening.”
“So Hisao, the Archduke who's pretending to be a teacher, realized he was into Jessica at the beginning of the season. But Jessica thinks he's a teacher, right? So he thought if he told her, it'd totally fuck up their friendship and she'd hate him. Because she's supposed to get married to the billionaire's son who's enemies with the Archduke.”
“Right.”
“But in the last episode, Misa told her the truth about Hisao, that he's really the Archduke and it's his destiny to take back the kingdom from the billionaire and his son. And Jessica already knew. She knew the whole time! Can you believe that?”
“Quite a twist,” Ratio says evenly.
“So what gives? She's totally in love with Hisao, right?”
“That seems likely.”
Birthday grins. “I think she's gonna break her engagement with the billionaire's son and get with the Archduke instead. Maybe she'll leave him at the alter.”
“Unless she and the Archduke are actually brother and sister. Didn't that happen in your last soap opera?”
“I can't believe you remember that,” Birthday laughs. “Do you want to start dating?”
Ratio stares at him, his visible eye widening.
“I promise we're not secretly related,” Birthday adds with a wink. “If that helps.”
A long silence passes between them, and Birthday starts to wonder if he's maybe misread this entire situation, but then Ratio says, “I can't believe you made me Jessica.”
“Hey, come on. Jessica's a total babe, and you're easy on the eyes,” Birthday protests.
Ratio's mouth quirks in a small smile. “We might as well,” he says. “I doubt anyone would notice anything different.”
“Exactly. See, this is a great idea.” Birthday punches him in the arm. “You should've said something sooner. We even had a sleepover and everything.”
“Did we?” Ratio raises his eyebrows. “I think sleepovers involve sleeping, in some regard.”
“We're gonna have to correct your misconceptions about sleepovers,” Birthday says delightedly. He scoots closer to the edge of the bed and leers up at Ratio. “It's not like when we were at the Academy, and kept our hands to ourselves.”
Ratio snorts. “You can't be referring to yourself; I used to have to pry you off of me in the middle of the night. You have very cold feet, just so you're aware. It's probably a circulation issue.”
“Quit pointing out my flaws, that's a terrible way to treat the person you like,” Birthday chastises. He grabs the edge of Ratio's jacket and tugs. “We have a few hours before Koneko puts us to work, I think. I can give you a quick sleepover tutorial in the meantime.”
“I pulled you out of a collapsed building four hours ago,” Ratio says, extricating himself from Birthday's grasp and stepping backwards. “Your depravity will have to wait.”
Birthday pouts, but then Ratio walks around to the other side of the bed and hangs his jacket on the corner post. “I mean it,” he says sternly, pulling back the blankets and climbing in. “No messing around.”
“You're killing me,” Birthday groans, collapsing down onto the mattress. “You've been playing hard to get for like, a decade, you know.”
“One more night won't kill you,” Ratio says.
“You don't know that. I might literally combust.”
“Your Minimum is very developed, I doubt that will happen,” Ratio tells him. “Be quiet, I'd like to rest.”
“This is a terrible first date,” Birthday grumbles. “Jessica would never treat Hisao like this.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not that kind of girl,” Ratio says. He rolls onto his back and looks sideways at Birthday, extending his arm warily. “Promise you'll behave.”
Birthday considers this. “Do I have to promise?”
“Yes.”
Bummer. Ratio takes promises pretty seriously. “Fine,” Birthday sighs, rolling his shoulders forward dejectedly. “But tomorrow night, all bets are off.”
“We'll see,” Ratio says, tugging Birthday gently against him. He must be right about their days back in the Academy, because it does feel familiar, leaning his head on the lean lines of Ratio's chest, the shape his arm folds into to wrap around Ratio's torso.
“Thanks for bringing me home,” he remembers to say, yawning.
“I'll always bring you home,” Ratio says.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Promise to always get in bed with me, too?”
Ratio turns his head so that his lips are against Birthday's hair. “Shut up, Birthday.”
Birthday hides his smile in Ratio's shirt, and makes a mental note to send a thank-you note to the Okamoto twins in prison.
Maybe even a thank-you note with pictures, if Ratio will let him get away with it.