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Takatora was no stranger to the hectic feel of midterms, the lack of sleep, the caffeine dependence, or the slight cold that always seems to get him at the very end. What he was not entirely used to, yet, was how his new friend seemed to deal with them (if you could call it dealing, that is).
It was one thing to skip a few nights of sleep for the sake of a large project, or perhaps to study, but an entirely different thing altogether to forego sleep for the entire two weeks of midterms. And yet here was Ryouma, sitting on the edge of his bed and shaking so hard it appeared he was vibrating. It was a miracle the other was managing to sit in one spot at all, he thought briefly. Usually Ryouma would be up and off the walls, blathering about his latest experiment or some scientific article he’d read recently.
“Ryouma,” he ventured, “how much caffeine did you—“
“Really, it was only a little bit,” Ryouma replied, shrugging as calmly as a shaking man could. “I couldn’t be bothered with liquid forms you know, so I went and synthesized my own in the lab.”
Takatora could feel the inevitable headache coming on, the one that seemed to follow Ryouma wherever he went. “So you ate something you didn’t know the strength of.”
“After about the third try I got the dosage correct,” Ryouma replied with a grin. “Perfectly harmless!”
Takatora rolled his eyes: he knew better than to argue this one. “If you die, I’m not responsible.”
“It’s only been …” Ryouma’s eyes glazed over for a moment in thought, and for a moment Takatora worried that he’d actually become catatonic. “How long have I been awake?” the older boy asked, laughing sheepishly.
“It’s not important,” and really, it’s not, because either way Takatora is probably going to kill him. “You should sleep now that we’re done.”
Ryouma stared at him with wide eyes and began to laugh again. “Are you serious? I’m not even tired: the world is all there to be explored, I have an experiment I can run now that I’m done with tests, and I feel fantastic!” He stood up to prove his point, only to topple back to the bed.
“Dizzy, all of a sudden,” he remarked softly, eyes unfocussed and staring blankly at the ceiling. Takatora felt the worry begin grow in his chest, even as Ryouma attempted to push himself back into a sitting position.
Takatora gently pushed him back down once more, making sure that Ryouma’s head lined up with the pillow.
“At least close your eyes,” Takatora said, moving to brush a few stray hairs out of his friend’s face. His finger’s brushed the other’s forehead, and he quickly pulled his hand back. “Do you realize you have a fever?”
“Dunno,” Ryouma replied, “though I’ll admit that I didn’t know about your third eye.”
“Ryouma, what—“
“It’s right there!!” Ryouma whined, sitting up to poke Takatora in the center of his forehead. “It’s just like your brother had when I walked in.”
Takatora’s stomach does nervous flips. “Ryouma, you’re seeing things. Please get some rest.” He didn’t know what else to say, or whether or not a medical professional should be called. He trusted Ryouma to some extent with these sorts of things, half because he’d seen the young scientist electrocute himself or get caught in a particularly nasty failed experiment and emerge with a laugh and a triumphant grin. Still, Ryouma’s sudden vulnerability unnerved him in a way he was unsure was possible. It felt a little like the upset he’d experienced the first time Mitsuzane had contracted a high fever: all he felt was worry and concern and an overwhelming helplessness that threatened to swallow him whole.
Takatora took three deep breaths and did his best to focus on the here and now. Ryouma had probably just had a little too much of his stupid synthesized compound, he was feeling the side-effects, and the best cure for all of this was probably a long nap. Still, he didn’t want to leave the other in case something serious did happen, or he woke and started to hallucinate something more serious than a third eye on people.
“If I stay here with you,” he ventured, “will you rest?”
Ryouma’s breathing was fast and shallow, and though the shaking looked like it might have decreased somewhat, it certainly hadn’t stopped. “Yeah,” the scientist replied. “I don’t feel right.”
“You stupid idiot,” Takatora said with a laugh, sliding down beside his friend. “Please never do this again.”
“No promises.” Rather than moving away, Ryouma turned into Takatora and hid his face in the other’s chest. “I have things to doooo.” Ryouma’s voice had decreased to a soft whine, a vibration against Takatora’s chest.
Takatora shifted somewhat awkwardly: he was used to Ryouma’s clinginess, though not quite like this. Still, Ryouma didn’t move, and Takatora eventually gave in and wrapped his arms around the other. It felt strange to be doing this, to be sleeping with someone other than Mitsuzane curled in his arms. He and Ryouma were friends, but he’d be damned if they were anything more than that…he thought. At this point he honestly wasn’t sure.
Ryouma had always been clinging and maybe a little overly friendly to him, had stood a little too close, showed up a little too late at night to just be another person. Yet Takatora had never really had friends, so he supposed he wouldn’t know if what they had was a friendship or something closer than that, supposing there was any such thing.
Ryouma shifted again, bringing his head up to press a light kiss to Takatora’s cheek. “ ‘m sorry I worried you,” he mumbled. “I’ll be careful.”
Takatora flushed several shades of red that he desperately hoped Ryouma didn’t notice, even as he managed a spluttered, “It’s fine, just rest,” before pulling the other a little closer and closing his own eyes. Ryouma was still shaking, but it’s subtle compared to earlier when Takatora thought he might just vibrate right off the bed.
Still, there was something calming about this, something nice and almost…lovely. If all midterms ended like this, he thought, maybe he wouldn’t mind them so much.