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Atsushi must have been asleep when Ryuunosuke let himself in. He’d been sent home from the office after Yosano had realized he had a fever and a cold, instructing him to take it easy and rest up so he could be better in a few days.
He’d woken up to a cup of tea steaming quietly by his face and Ryuunosuke sitting against a wall across the room, staring at him intently. There was a mug sitting beside the older man, steaming as well. “You’re finally awake,” the mafioso said. His voice was soft. “I heard you were sick.”
Atsushi didn’t need to ask who had told him; only one person in the Armed Detective Agency knew of their relationship besides Kyouka and that someone was known to meddle in situations if he felt he needed to. Why he felt he needed to, in this case, was another question entirely, and it wasn’t one that he was quite willing to deal with yet. “How long have you been here?” Atsushi asked instead, sitting up and taking the mug of tea into his hands.
“Since noon,” the mafioso replied, his eyes flicking to the window as he lifted a hand to stifle a cough. It was well into the afternoon now, maybe around three, if Atsushi had to take a guess.
“That long?” Atsushi asked. “You could have woken me, you know.”
Ryuunosuke’s gaze slid back to him, unreadable as he studied his face. “I was told you needed the rest,” he said quietly. “I did not want to disturb you.”
Atsushi’s eyebrows furrowed. There was something about the way Ryuunosuke was acting that was throwing him off-guard, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. Mulling over the thought, he raised the mug of tea to his lips, humming appreciatively as the hot liquid soothed his scratchy throat.
Chamomile. Atsushi’s lips curled into an appreciative smile, and he lifted his head to look at Ryuunosuke, who was still watching him closely. “Thank you,” he said. “For the tea and for coming.”
A light blush stole across the mafioso’s face, and he looked away again before standing abruptly. “You should eat something,” he said hurriedly. “I brought soup; let me get some for you.”
Ryuunosuke was out of the room before Atsushi could call him back, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He was definitely acting odd. His throat began to itch again while he was lost in thought, and he made to raise the mug of tea to his mouth to soothe it again.
His body, however, seemed to have other plans, for a startled cough left his mouth, causing him to jolt and drop the mug, splashing (thankfully slightly cooled) tea all over his blankets as a hand flew to his mouth. As Atsushi coughed, he was vaguely aware of a crash coming from the kitchen, followed by thumping footsteps as Ryuunosuke all but flew into the room and dropped to his knees in a way that made Atsushi wince internally.
Ryuunosuke hesitated as if he wasn’t sure where to put his hands before one finally came to rest on Atsushi’s back, rubbing it gently as he tried to coax the were-tiger through the coughing fit.
Once the coughing subsided, Atsushi lifted his head to get a look at his partner’s face. His eyes were wide with panic, with fear , and that gave the detective pause. Was a small coughing fit like that enough to scare the Rabid Dog of the Port Mafia? “A-Are you okay?” Atsushi asked quietly, wincing at the way his throat stung.
“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” Ryuunosuke asked, sounding incredulous. “You just sounded like you were about to cough up a lung, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
Atsushi nodded. “You looked scared,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’ve never seen you look like that before.”
That gave the mafioso pause, his hand stilling on Atsushi’s back as his mouth opened slightly as if he were ready to refute Atsushi’s claim. When no words came out, Ryuunosuke closed it again, sighing heavily through his nose as he closed his eyes. In the silence that hovered over them momentarily, Atsushi’s eyes lit up with the realization that Ryuunosuke had been scared this entire time. So that’s why he’d seemed so off.
“The others.” Ryuunosuke’s voice was quiet, almost as if he didn’t want to be heard, but the tiger within Atsushi made sure he’d heard. “Back in the slums. Getting sick was….”
The last puzzle piece clicked into place. Atsushi’s eyes widened a fraction. Of course . He’d completely forgotten. Sickness in the slums where Ryuunosuke had grown up was oftentimes fatal since they didn’t have the money to buy medicine, and it was extremely difficult to swipe it whenever it was available. The detective reached out slowly to touch the older man’s cheek.
Ryuunosuke flinched back from the initial touch, not having expected it, but once what Atsushi was doing had sunk in, he leaned into the touch and covered Atsushi’s hand with his own, grey eyes fluttering shut as he breathed out a sigh. “I’ll be just fine,” Atsushi reassured him gently. “Because I have you here to take care of me, right?”
The mafioso nodded, the blush returning to his face as he opened his eyes to meet Atsushi’s gaze, searching for anything that could contradict what he’d just been told. When Ryuunosuke found nothing of the sort, he finally allowed himself to relax. “...I should go and get that soup for you now,” he said quietly, turning his head to press a fleeting kiss against Atsushi’s palm before he stood and padded out of the room.
Atsushi smiled after him, his heart warm. With Ryuunosuke by his side, he knew he’d get better in no time.