Work Text:
Of course something like this would happen to him. Who else would it happen to? Not someone the universe liked, that's for sure.
An entirely innocent motive -- albeit one that had roused him out of his warm, comfortable bed at an absurd hour of the morning -- lead him, with some gentle nudges from his parents, to Sensei's house. Sudden frosts weren't uncommon during winter on the island, but it being the absentminded calligrapher's first winter on the island, the village chief thought it best to make sure that Handa wasn't currently sitting frozen in his living room, unable to thaw until the spring. That could be rather problematic.
Hat, coat, gloves and scarf, Hiro made his way sleepily to the older man's house, still unsure why he had even agreed to take the walk. Maybe he'd been asleep still, mind fogged with images of fluffy, white sheep, prancing through meadows. Mm. That was a nice idea. Suppressing a yawn, he recognized the familiar roof and turned towards the door. A brief mental debate over whether to knock, or just open the door was solved in record time when an icy breeze rustled the dead trees. They weren't even in winter yet truly -- what was with this cold snap?
"Sensei?" he called, groggily, stepping out of his boots by the front door. Handa wasn't in the entry, or living room, much to Hiro's relief. Maybe he was sleeping, curled up tightly in bed, dreaming of warmer summer days. Popping his head into the kitchen, he was quite pleased to find it empty, "Now, I'll just peak in his room..." he murmured to himself, "Then I'll report back."
That was when he was met with a surprise, "Sensei?!"
Halfway in the closet, Handa pulled himself out with a shocked squeak, "Hiro?!"
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to get this extra blanket down. It's cold in the house." was the smooth reply, "Say, Hiro, could you help me get it down?" Padding over to his side, Hiro reached up with ease and held it out to the shorter male, who wrapped it tightly around himself, "Thanks, Hiro." Stumbling across the room, he fell face forward onto his bed with a contented sigh.
Hiro blinked, "Are you even the least bit curious why I'm here?"
"Aren't you always here?" Handa's voice was muffled by his blankets.
"Well, that's -- that's true, but I mean..."
"Did your parents send you to check up on me?"
"Yeah." It wasn't hard to guess, he figured, "Y'know, since it's so cold out."
Lifting his head from the mattress, he offered a slight smile, "Thank you. I'm not an ice cube yet."
"You would have been though, if I hadn't gotten that blanket." Hiro teased, lingering in the door way for reasons he couldn't put into words.
"When I'm an ice cube, I'll have you come stick me in a fire to defrost me."
"Don't joke like that, Sensei. The cold weather is dangerous. You could get sick or die or something." Not the least bit over dramatic at all.
"Mm, yes. But I won't. I have you looking out for me." Lowering his face back onto the cushion, he visibly shivered. Apparently, Sensei wasn't out of the woods yet.
"I won't always be able to, if I get accepted for college next year."
A less than comfortable silence fell over them, and the gap between the door way and the bed seemed to fill with the frozen wind from outside. Handa was quiet, but Hiro knew he wasn't asleep. Raising his head again slowly, he nodded, "Good luck. Will you be trying for Tokyo? If you get accepted, I can give you suggestions on places to study or eat or see good calligraphy galleries."
"I'll be tryin' everywhere, but I doubt anywhere will accept me." he grumbled, shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his pajama pants.
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Handa was feebly attempting to scoot up his bed to get under the blankets while Hiro watched, mildly amused, "If I were a college, I would accept you. You're a good cook and a hard worker who takes care of those he cares about." With a yawn, he curled up beneath the comforter. Sleepy Handa was much nicer than normal Sensei.
"Thanks Sensei, that... means a lot."
No reply. Just a rising and falling of the thick coverings on the mattress. With a light chuckle, Hiro started back towards the door again, but as soon as he turned, an annoyed noise resonated from the lump.
"Sensei?"
"Don't go."
"Wh-What?"
"Stay." A shiver ran down Hiro's spine from something quite the opposite of cold, "Don't go home in this weather. Stay here with me."
Words slurring, it was obvious how little consciousness the tired artist had left, but still, Handa never said things he didn't mean, "A-Are you sure, Sensei?"
"Very. I would never forgive...if you...frostbite..." Trailing off, Handa rolled over in his bed, pulling his covers up higher.
Hiro weighed his options briefly: 1. go home in the cold or 2. stay in the heat. It was a no-brainer. So he would stay. Where? Well, not in Sensei's room, clearly, so out on the futon? He thought for a moment, but thinking was slow in the middle of the frozen night.
"What's taking so long? Are you coming to bed or what?" Handa threw back the other half of the blanket, turning expectantly to look at Hiro.
"You want me to sleep... with you?"
"Haven't you ever heard of sharing body heat, Hiro?"
"Well, yeah, but --"
"Tell me about butts in the morning. I'm tired. I'm cold. Get in the bed."
Hiro obeyed the command, dropping his heavy winter clothes on the way to the bed, leaving his thin tee shirt and pajama bottoms as he cautiously slid into bed beside the older man. Sensei was a cuddler, apparently, because he immediately curled into Hiro's side, and his breathing fell into a rhythm right after.
"Well, goodnight, Sensei." he whispered, being too exhausted to think any further, or at all about the next morning.