Chapter Text
When Leorio entered the apartment he shared with Kurapika, he found that the overhead lights were off but a few candles flickered in the hallway leading to the bedroom. Through the closed blinds, the city lights were faded, passing headlights flashing through the slits onto the walls. Aside from the sounds of traffic, the night was quiet.
“I’m home,” Leorio called out softly, closing the door behind him. No answer came. He slipped off his shoes and set down the plastic bag from the convenience store around the block. After shrugging off his coat and draping it over an armchair, he retrieved the bag and moved deeper into the apartment, eying the darkness warily.
As he crept down the corridor, his left hand trailing along the wall, the smell of roses wafted through the air, carried by the smoky scent of incense. He increased his pace, extinguishing candles as he came across them in fear of the fire hazard. When he approached the doorway to the bedroom, he paused. The door was cracked, light pooling beneath it from within, and even from where Leorio stood, he could see delicate petals scattered on the floor. Taking a deep breath, he rolled back his shoulders and braced himself.
Leorio eased open the door to find Kurapika, sprawled across the comforter shirtless with a rose lodged between the rows of teeth. His eyes were shut, and his cheeks still possessed a glossy red sheen.
“Where’d you even get these flowers?” Leorio muttered as he tried not to smile. He dropped the bag on the top of the dresser before opening a drawer, the noise stirring Kurapika from his slumber.
As he awoke, an easy smile parted his lips, and the rose fell from his teeth onto the bed. “Leorio,” he said dreamily, opening his arms in welcome. “You’ve returned.”
“Of course I did,” Leorio said. “I live here. Now put this on.” He tossed one of his own shirts, a thermal, in Kurapika’s direction. “Your fever will get worse if you don’t stay warm.”
Dutifully, Kurapika dressed, as though dazed. When he realized the shirt was bigger than what he usually wore, Kurapika lifted the sleeves to his nose and whispered, “Boyfriend shirt. ”
Struggling to disregard the comment, Leorio rummaged through the plastic bag and revealed several bottles of medicine, a heating pad, and other various supplies. “Kurapika, I’m going to give you some medicine. It’ll be bitter, but you’ve got to take it. Is that acceptable?”
“Anything you say, doctor.”
Leorio closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. He uncapped the bottle and poured the approximate amount into a deep spoon. Crossing to the bed, he motioned with his free hand for Kurapika to sit up straighter. “Open up—and swallow it all.”
Opening his mouth, and leaning forward, Kurapika met Leorio’s eyes and nodded. Leorio held the back of Kurapika’s head for security and guided the spoon through his lips, tipping it so that the bitter medicine avoided most of his tongue. Kurapika nearly recoiled, but Leorio held him in place, and he swallowed, wrinkling his nose.
“Good,” Leorio said, earning a pleased smile. He held the back of his hand to Kurapika’s forehead. Kurapika fluttered his eyelashes but stayed still. Leorio frowned. “Your fever’s gotten worse. You need to rest.”
Kurapika grabbed Leorio’s hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “But I don’t want to rest.”
“You’re tired,” Leorio insisted. “You haven’t slept properly in three days. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Narrowing his eyes, Kurapika released Leorio’s hand only to reach for his neck, lacing his fingers at the base. “I am perfectly aware of what I’m saying,” Kurapika said, pulling Leorio closer. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to stay awake with you.”
Leorio allowed himself to bend into the softest kiss he’d ever received. Kurapika stroked upward through the short hairs at the back of Leorio’s head and didn’t even part his lips. When Kurapika pulled back, he was looking at Leorio like he was a fragrant flower pressed between the pages of his favorite book, preserved yet soft to the touch. He traced Leorio’s cheek with his fingers, tilting his head to adjust his perspective.
“You’re so handsome,” Kurapika said wistfully. “How’d I get so lucky?”
Scoffing, Leorio rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. You have a fever. You don’t know what you’re—”
“Really,” Kurapika said, letting his fingers trail over Leorio’s lips. “You are. I mean it. I must have done something right just to get the opportunity to meet you.”
Chuckling, Leorio gently seized one of Kurapika’s hands and kissed his fingers. “You’re only saying that because you’re sick, sunshine,” he said gently. “You’d never say that otherwise. But I can’t say I’m complaining.”
Kurapika sighed gazing up at Leorio in utter wonder. “What I would do to stay with you forever,” he said. His eyes lit up for a moment, glistening in the candlelight. “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”
Closing his eyes, Leorio swallowed and looked at the headboard, unable to speak. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or give a proper answer.
Kurapika’s bright expression began to falter. He leaned forward but retrieved both his hands, his breathing labored. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Was that a foolish thing to ask?” Placing a hand against his forehead, Kurapika grew frantic, eyes darting anywhere but in Leorio’s direction. “Maybe the fever is affecting my judgment. Forgive me, Leorio, I—”
“Kurapika,” Leorio interrupted, “do me a favor and look at your hand. The left one.” Leorio sighed, pinching the bridge of his noise beneath his glasses. “Your other left.”
Kurapika obeyed without resisting, and when he noticed the slender gold band, all emotion fled from his face. Then the tears came.
To Leorio’s surprise, Kurapika covered his face with his hands and let out a sob. “Oh, I’m married.” Leorio opened his mouth to confirm, but Kurapika continued. “Thank God you didn’t indulge me and my desires, or I would have… I would have committed adultery.” He spat the word with such vehemence, Leorio had to choke back an incredulous laugh. All at once, Kurapika stilled, then lifted his face, a strange look of contemplation in his glassy eyes. “I’ll have to get a divorce. That’s the only way. It’s not fair; it’s selfish, utterly selfish. But what else can I do? I have no choice. I only want to be with you.”
Dumbfounded, Leorio sat on the bed beside Kurapika, searching for the words to say. He covered Kurapika’s hand with his own. “I want the same thing, Kurapika,” he said finally, cursing himself for playing into Kurapika’s feverish fantasy. “But I don’t know if a divorce is—”
“You know, I can’t think of the name or the face of the person I’m married to. Isn’t that awful? There’s nothing in my mind but you.” Kurapika jerked his head up and stared at the opposing wall, furrowing his brows. “We’ll have to split our assets; it’s the least I can do. I’ll need a lawyer to handle the paperwork. Can I afford a lawyer? God, I don’t even know how much money I have,” he lamented, collapsing sideways, away from Leorio, and burying his face into the pillows.
Leorio watched over Kurapika, saw the despondent look on his face when he turned to breathe. Reaching out to rest a hand on Kurapika’s upper arm, Leorio said, “I don’t think you’ll need a lawyer after all.”
Kurapika grew rigid. Shrinking away from Leorio, he said, “You mean you don’t think I should get a divorce?” He curled inward, drawing his knees closer to his chest and his fists to his face. “Of course. That’d be a terrible decision. And it’d do terrible things to your reputation.”
“I don’t even have a reputation,” Leorio said, seeking Kurapika’s hand. “Will you let me finish what I was saying?”
After a moment of hesitation, Kurapika grasped Leorio’s fingers and nodded. “Okay.”
“You won’t need a lawyer, and you won’t need a divorce,” Leorio said. “Kurapika, I know you’re very sick, but I cannot believe you’ve forgotten that we’re already married.”
Blinking slowly, Kurapika rose, aided by Leorio. When he was upright, he turned to Leorio, staring at every feature of his face. “Really?”
“Really,” Leorio confirmed, lifting his hand to flash the band on his finger. “For quite some time. Do you understand why you need to rest now?”
“How could I forget something so important?” Kurapika whispered. Leorio drew him closer, a hand around his waist. “I’m sorry, Leorio. I must really be unwell.”
“You are,” Leorio admitted. “But I’ll take care of you. As long as it takes.”
“What about work?”
“I’ve made arrangements,” Leorio said. He aligned his cheek with Kurapika’s, monitoring his temperature. “You have nothing to worry about.”
Kurapika leaned into Leorio, closing his eyes. “Do I deserve you? Wait, don’t answer that.” He blindly sought Leorio’s hand, intertwining their fingers snugly. “Thank you, I mean. For taking care of me, even when I’m like this.”
With a soft laugh, Leorio said, “I wouldn’t let you suffer alone. Even in your current state, you know that—don’t you?”
Nodding, Kurapika shifted so he could wrap his arms around Leorio’s middle. “I do.”
“Good,” Leorio said. “I’m glad.”
“You care about me a lot,” Kurapika said, a tinge of smugness in his words. “I’m relieved.”
Though his cheeks were pink, Leorio said, “It’s only natural, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is. I’m just pleased the feeling is mutual.”
Leorio wanted to comment on the silliness. How couldn’t he care for Kurapika? After everything they’d been through, it seemed impossible for Leorio to not harbor such strong feelings. But he couldn’t confess that, especially not at a time when Kurapika was so vulnerable and open. He feared the response—not the possibility of a negative response but of the outward expression of emotion. How could Leorio deal with such unfamiliar tactics?
He kept his feelings in check but tightened his hold, stroking Kurapika’s hair.
“Leorio?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you still love me when I’m back to normal?”
Leorio pulled away to look at Kurapika, took in the genuine concern on his face. “What do you mean?”
Bunching the sheets beneath his fingers, Kurapika stared down at his legs. “I know… I’m not usually this… affectionate. I might not even remember this, and that’s—terrible.” He swallowed, biting his bottom lip. “If I get better, I’ll be colder and crueler and—and—”
With a gentle smile, Leorio ruffled Kurapika’s hair. He drew Kurapika closer, pressed his lips to Kurapika’s forehead. “You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “I fell in love with you when you were cold and harsh and humorless and cruel—” He paused when he noticed Kurapika’s head tilted back, a prominent pout on his lips. Clearing his throat, Leorio continued. “What I’m saying is, I’ll love you no matter what. All I care about right now is you getting well again. Understand?”
Kurapika reached for Leorio’s face with both hands, resting his fingers on Leorio’s skin as though he were touching a fragile artifact. He searched for something unnameable and seemed to find it, smiling weakly but with genuine adoration pressing upward against his eyes. “I love you,” Kurapika said. “Do I say that enough? Before I was ill, did I say that enough?”
Leorio pressed his forehead to Kurapika’s, their noses brushing, and closed his eyes, holding back the tears which stung his eyes. “Yes, you do,” Leorio said breathlessly. “You say it just enough for me to believe it. But it’s always nice to hear it.”
“I’ll say it more often then,” Kurapika said, his voice growing softer. He lowered himself down onto the bed, nestling into the pillows. He clung to Leorio’s sleeve, fingers limp but insistent. “Even if I don’t remember anything else.”
With that, Kurapika sank into the mattress, facing Leorio, and drifted into sleep. Leorio had been satisfied to find that his fever had gone down in the short time since he’d taken the medicine. He smoothed the hair, feather soft to the touch, from Kurapika’s forehead and bent down to kiss the warm skin.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Leorio whispered, blowing out the candle on the nightstand and laying down beside Kurapika, lacing their fingers together. “Just rest. Get better. That’s all I ask. There’s nothing you need to change.”
He ran his thumb along the ridge of Kurapika’s knuckles, resting his head on his other arm, bent atop his pillow. Suddenly weary, Leorio allowed himself to relax, facing Kurapika and pressing a brief kiss to the tip of his nose.
Though Leorio couldn’t see well in the darkness, he swore he saw Kurapika smile.