Work Text:
Kindness is what you show to me
It holds me till I ache
Overflow and start to break
-- Bastille, “An Act of Kindness”
Lin woke to a hand nudging his shoulder and a headache that throbbed so awfully it hurt to open his eyes.
“Lin-chan. Lin?” Banba's voice rang in his ears.
“What?” Lin mumbled, mind foggy.
“Your phone. It’s been vibratin’.”
Slowly, Lin managed to reach his phone to see who’d been calling. It was Jiro, confirming that Lin was supposed to work with him tonight on Avenger duties. Seeing the time, Lin grunted; it was later than he usually slept.
“Are you okay?” Banba asked.
“I’m fine,” Lin said, but the hoarseness of his throat betrayed him and Banba narrowed his eyes.
“You’re all sweaty and flushed. And shivering. I think you’ve got a fever.” Banba reached out to touch Lin’s forehead, but Lin swatted his hand away.
“I said I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t be workin’ tonight. Want me to call Jiro for you?” Banba took out his own phone.
“Mind your own business,” Lin muttered petulantly. “I’ll be fine in a few hours, if you leave me alone and let me sleep.”
“You really wanna be alone when you’re sick, Lin-chan?”
“Yes. Go do whatever you were gonna do today. The batting cages or whatever.”
“Okay,” Banba said, sounding unsure. “But I got my phone if you need anything, okay?”
Lin said nothing, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep.
Banba didn’t move. After a beat, he repeated, “Okay, Lin-chan?”
“Okay!” Lin shot back, head pounding with the effort. He heard the door open and close with Banba’s departure.
Lin tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but he ached from head to toe. He was exhausted, but his body hurt too much to sleep. In his mind, he catalogued the things he’d do as soon as he got enough energy to stand: get another blanket, make some tea, find medicine, take a nice bath. Then he’d surely be okay to work tonight.
He managed to doze a little, stuck in that uncomfortable limbo between sleep and consciousness until he was jolted awake by the sounds of someone at the door.
“I’m home, Lin-chan!” Banba announced.
Lin frowned. Banba hadn’t been gone very long, certainly not as long as he usually spent at the batting cages. And he was holding plastic shopping bags. Lin tried to grumble menacingly, to convey his irritation, but it mostly came out like a whimper.
“Are you feelin’ any better?” Banba asked as he approached.
Lin just glared, because no, he wasn’t, but he wouldn’t give Banba the satisfaction of telling him that.
“I thought so.” Banba chuckled.
Lin used what little energy he had in a weak attempt to kick at him.
“Don’t worry,” Banba said. “Neither of us gotta work tonight.” He sat on the coffee table across from Lin. “I called Jiro for you, and he understands. Apparently there’s something going around Misaki-chan’s school, too.”
Lin watched Banba start to unpack the first bag, curious.
“I got you three different kinds of tea,” Banba said, waving the boxes in front of Lin, “so you can see which one you like best. And I got you soup. That’s what you’re supposed to eat when you’re sick, right?” He moved on to the second bag. “I got cough medicine and cold medicine, though I don’t really know what the difference is between the two. Have you been coughing?” He peered down at Lin. Before Lin could respond, Banba grabbed the third bag. “Here,” he said, pulling out DVDs. “I got you some of those romantic comedies, too. They look kinda dumb, but I always like to watch TV when I don’t feel so good.”
Lin blinked at him. That sounded… nice. Like, just what he needed right now.
"Sounds good, right?" Banba asked knowingly.
“Shut up, Ban-baka,” Lin said quietly.
Banba smiled softly. “I’ll put a movie on. Which one?”
“Whichever,” Lin replied, thrown, as he always was, by Banba’s gentleness.
Banba picked a DVD. It played softly in the background. Lin paid more attention to the sounds of Banba moving around the apartment; he filled the kettle, boiled the water. He brought Lin a cup of tea without a word. Lin took a sip, and it was heaven on his throat.
“Thanks,” Lin murmured.
This time, when Banba stretched his hand to touch Lin’s forehead, Lin allowed it. “You do have a fever, Lin-chan,” Banba said. “Once you’re done your tea, you should lie down.”
It did sound like a good idea, so Lin did as he was told, and once he took his last sip of tea, he snuggled into his blankets.
Banba brought a cloth and a small bowl of water and set it down on the table. He wet the cloth and wrung it out.
Lin closed his eyes in anticipation of the cool touch. He didn’t want Banba to read the emotion on his face, though he probably would anyway. It was such a simple kindness, but Lin had grown so unaccustomed to those kinds of things. It seemed like a lifetime ago that his mother had kissed his forehead or stroked his hair when he was sick. Not to mention, every kindness Feilang had shown him was now tainted by his betrayal.
“Lin,” Banba whispered, “do you want me to turn the movie off?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No.”
And so Banba sat on the opposing chair, and they watched a ridiculous romantic drama. Lin’s eyes fluttered shut every now and then, but Banba didn’t complain or try to change the movie. He was quiet, his gaze resting on Lin every once in a while.
At some point, Banba got up to wet Lin’s cloth. Before he put the cooled cloth back into place, his fingers brushed Lin’s forehead. Finally comfortable, and sleepy, Lin sighed at the touch.
“Still warm,” Banba said softly. His fingers smoothed Lin’s bangs back from his damp forehead, skimmed along his cheek.
And that was all that Lin remembered until he woke up much later, in the early hours of the morning. Banba sat sleeping in the chair across from him, snoring lightly, in what seemed like a very uncomfortable position.
“Idiot,” Lin murmured, the fondness in his chest threatening to spill out.
He curled back up, warm with the terrifying knowledge that if he needed something, anything, Banba would be right there.
And then, in the following days, Lin would learn that Banba was a much bigger baby when he was sick than an infamous hit man/samurai had any right to be.
“Lin-chan,” Banba whined, his voice nasally with his own cold, “can you rub my back?” He was sprawled out on the couch, where Lin could keep an eye on him.
Lin groaned. “Fine. Just this once.”
“Thank you, Lin-chan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lin said, fighting a smile.