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“I don’t need to be carried.”
“I know you don’t,” Kojiro says, even though he knows no such thing. He’d hoped that Kaoru would stay asleep through the process of carrying him up to his bedroom and settling him down, but no such luck. Of course not. Kaoru always has to make things more difficult.
Kaoru squirms. “Put me down.”
“No.”
“Kojiro. I am not a child.” Kaoru jerks his arm like he’s going to elbow him in the chest, but the sling pins it in place.
“Please.” Kojiro’s voice cracks as he remembers watching Cherry fall to the ground, broken more than beaten. It seems that Adam can still surprise the both of them with the depths that he’s fallen. “Let me do this.”
Kaoru sighs, annoyed and long-suffering. If he settles more securely into Kojiro’s arms, well, he’d run over anyone who suggests it. “Gorilla,” he mumbles into Kojiro’s shirt.
“You’re lucky I’m not driving you back to the hospital.”
“Hate hospitals. Food’s terrible.”
Kojiro steps out on the landing and turns towards his own bedroom. It’s the only logical choice; Kaoru’s in no condition to sleep on the couch or return home on his own. Kaoru’s eyes open and he stiffens again. “Don’t argue,” Kojiro says.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed. You probably haven’t changed the sheets in a year.”
“I changed them last night.”
“I’m fine. I can go home.” Kaoru kicks his legs and a pained shudder runs through his back.
“You fell asleep at the table.”
“I was just resting my eyes. Besides, Carla can get me there whether I’m awake or not.”
“I’m not trusting your safety to that thing.” Kojiro leans over, settling Kaoru gently on the bed. “You’re sleeping here tonight and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Kaoru settles down on the pillow with a groan as Kojiro pulls the blankets up over him. “You’re holding me against my will.”
“You can leave anytime you want to.” Kojiro steps back, his work finished. “If you think you can make it down the stairs.”
“Don’t make it sound like a challenge.”
“Stay.” Kaoru looks tiny among the black sheets, his pink hair and white bandages a stark contrast. Kojiro’s heart aches in his chest. “I’ll be in the other room. Shout if you need anything.”
“Why would I need anything?”
“No reason.” Kojiro sighs as he turns away. “Now rest.”
Kaoru’s voice halts him before he can go more than a few steps. “Do you know what Adam said to me, before he did it?”
Joe rests a hand against the door frame, schooling his face into something carefully impassive, concealing the rage and pain boiling just below the surface. He doesn’t want to know what Adam said. He wants to find him, to make him feel a small fraction of the jagged edges he feels now. He’s almost smiling, though, when he turns back to Kaoru. “No.”
“That he didn’t care to accept the beef from either of us, because we’re boring.” Kaoru’s eyes are closed, his voice soft like he’s near sleep, but his shoulders are trembling.
Kojiro steps back over to the bed before he can think better of it, sitting down on the end. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Isn’t it? I always rely on Carla to pick the best route; you always rely on your strength to give you speed. He’s seen everything we have to offer him.”
“Kaoru.” Kojiro waits in silence until his eyes open again. “He’s afraid of us.”
“He could’ve won tonight. He didn’t have to—”
Kojiro forces back the growl that rises in his throat. “Not that. Adam, the Adam he is now, wants the spectacle. He doesn’t need skating, not anymore; he needs the audience. He’s afraid of us because we know who he is.”
Kaoru’s quiet for so long that Kojiro can only assume he’s fallen asleep. He hesitates, unable to tear his eyes away from the long strands of hair hanging over Kaoru’s face, half-covering the various scrapes and bandages and bruises. He clenches his fist and leans down to brush a kiss against Kaoru’s forehead.
As he straightens, Kaoru says, “You know I don’t care about Adam, right?”
“I know.” Kojiro’s mouth goes soft and wry as he tries to smile. “You don’t care about anyone.”
Kaoru reaches out, not opening his eyes, and catches Kojiro’s hand. He guides the back of it to his lips for a soft exhale of a kiss. “Shut up, gorilla.”
“Go to sleep, four eyes.”
Kojiro rises but Kaoru pulls him closer. Even at full-strength Kaoru isn’t strong enough to drag him around, unless he lets himself be dragged. “This is your bed.”
“Yes. We’ve already been over this.”
Kaoru keeps tugging. Kojiro lets himself lower down until his elbows are resting against the bed and he’s close enough to smell the antiseptic linger of the hospital. “Don’t make me say it.”
Kojiro wants to. He wants to make Kaoru ask for what he needs, loves to see the moment when he can’t hold out anymore, but not tonight.
Tonight, he says, “Okay.”
Tonight, he sits up enough to drag down the covers and swings his legs up onto the bed. He settles down onto his own pillow and he doesn’t even make a snide comment when Kaoru shifts closer, resting his head on his chest.
Tonight, he says, “I’m glad you’re okay, Kaoru” into his silk-soft hair.
Kaoru stiffens for a moment, like he’s trying to decide which of their stand-by insults to sling back this time, before he lets out a sigh and goes boneless against him. “I’m glad you’re here, Kojiro.”