Chapter Text
If you had told Atsushi a week ago that Gin would enlist him to become Akutagawa’s unofficial babysitter, he would have laughed in your face. Well…maybe not too loudly. Atsushi has always tried to remain as polite as possible.
But his point still stands!
It’s about five-thirty in the afternoon as he makes his way through Akutagawa’s apartment lobby for the second day in a row. Normally, at this time, Atsushi is dilly-dallying around the office as he waits for Kyouka to finish gossiping with Kenji so they can walk back to the dorms together. Instead, he is sending Georgiev-san another respectful nod as he makes his way up to Akutagawa’s apartment.
The old woman sips her intoxicatingly floral tea and responds in kind. Atsushi can’t suppress the small smile spreading across his face as the elevator door closes. He may have to spend his evening with his grumpy and disagreeable partner, but he can’t muster up any feelings of annoyance.
Deep down inside, he’s feeling…excited?
Well, excited may not be the right word… Atsushi thinks to himself as he exits the elevator and scans the doors to his left, looking for the right one.
As soon as Atsushi spots it, he finds himself hesitating. Gin messaged him saying that she left for work about an hour ago, so that means Akutagawa is home alone. Obviously, the mafioso is not going to be happy about Atsushi’s presence in his apartment…Atsushi can’t help but dread how this is going to go.
Well… Atsushi thinks as he raises his hand, knocking firmly on the door. He’ll just have to grow up and deal with it.
Predictably, silence is the only answer Atsushi receives. With a roll of his eyes, the weretiger crosses his arms stubbornly and leans against the door jam. Part of Atsushi wonders if his partner is asleep again – maybe in his bed this time – and can’t hear him knocking. However, he knows that it is much more likely that Akutagawa is sitting on the couch and firmly ignoring his knocking.
With that in mind, Atsushi knocks again, louder this time. “Akutagawa, open up!” Atsushi is glad that Georgiev-san is downstairs and doesn’t have to hear him shouting. “I know you’re in there!”
More silence…
“I’m going to call Gin if you don’t let me in!” Atsushi shouts in exasperation, hoping that the mention of his sister will help defrost some of Akutagawa’s stubbornness. Atsushi smiles mischievously, reaching for his phone and pulling up Gin’s contact. “Maybe she’ll give me a key! Then I can come bother you whenever I want.”
Just as Atsushi is about to hit ‘call,’ he can hear a faint click as the door unlocks. The weretiger can’t help the triumphant smile that splits his lower face.
But, to his surprise, the door doesn’t open to reveal his disgruntled partner. Instead, the foyer is completely empty other than a single slithering tendril retreating back into the living room.
Atsushi’s heart drops at the sight but he quickly chuckles in relief. At first, he didn’t recognize the bright yellow tentacle as Rashomon since he’s so used to seeing its ominous black form. Something about seeing such a feared ability acting as nothing more than a door-opener makes Atsushi snicker – especially considering the fact that Akutagawa seems to only wear oversized neon tee shirts when he isn’t feeling well.
Atsushi’s suspicions are confirmed as soon as he lays eyes on his partner.
In short, Akutagawa looks like an extremely annoyed highlighter. His shirt is a frankly offensive color that does nothing for his already-pale complexion. His hair is oily and matted to the back of his scalp, only small tufts of the shorter hairs sticking up wildly. The only thing that stops Atsushi from giggling at his partner’s unusually disheveled appearance is the way his glare seems to pierce straight through Atsushi’s chest and pin him to the opposite wall.
On the plus side, Atsushi thinks that the deep purple bags under h is eyes are a little smaller than they were yesterday, but it’s difficult to tell considering the fierce frown that clouds Akutagawa’s features. Atsushi rolls his eyes at the display, toeing off his shoes and dumping his work bag by the door. Apparently, Akutagawa is going to make this as difficult as possible.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Atsushi says with a good-natured huff, flopping down on the armchair Gin had been sitting in the day before. “Why are you staring at me like you want me to drop dead?”
“Maybe I do.” Akutagawa’s voice is rough. Atsushi can’t help but wince upon hearing him.
“We both know you don’t.” The weretiger rolls his eyes again and sags deeper into the chair. Akutagawa only grumbles in response before rising and shuffling into the kitchen.
Atsushi watches silently as Akutagawa rummages around in the kitchen slowly. The curious part of Atsushi want’s to follow him to see what he's doing, but the more rational part knows that his partner needs some space…unless Atsushi wants to be skewered by a neon tendril. That would really put a damper on his already-subpar day.
“What are you doing?” Atsushi calls from his spot in the living room. When no response is forthcoming, he pulls his work satchel into his lap. Well, if he has to be here babysitting a full-grown mafioso, he might as well get some work done.
Ever since returning from his mission with Akutagawa, Atsushi has been embarrassingly behind with his work. He’s been having a difficult time concentrating, he’s still struggling to catch up on missed sleep, and he’s been beside himself with worry for no apparent reason. Nothing seems to be going right for Atsushi lately…and that doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon.
Just as Atsushi manages to be immersed in his first incomplete report, Akutagawa returns to the room with two cups of interesting smelling tea in hand. Atsushi watches as his partner sets both mugs on the table between them – the one closer to Atsushi still has a tea bag submerged within the colored water.
Atsushi raises an eyebrow before shoving his report aside. “Are you trying to poison me…?”
Huffing in indignation, Akutagawa flops back onto the couch and pulls his knees to his chest. Somehow, he manages not to spill any of the tea on himself. “Does it look like I’m trying to poison you?” he asks, taking a sip of his own drink. “ Honestly , Jinko. Killing you now would be a waste of my breath.”
Atsushi doesn’t have a response to that and instead hesitantly takes a sip of his tea. He chokes at the taste and makes an undignified face. “What kind of tea is this?!” Atsushi cries, quickly returning his mug to the table. “I think you really are poisoning me!”
Akutagawa laughs…honest to god, laughs . Atsushi doesn’t think he’s ever heard his partner make a noise like that before. Soon, he finds himself smiling too at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
To Atsushi’s further befuddlement, Akutagawa hides his grin behind his mug and takes another sip of the absolutely foul tea. When he doesn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust, Atsushi gapes in awe. “How… why are you drinking that?!”
Akutagawa snorts again, but this time his laughter is cut short by a string of violent hacking coughs. Before he knows what he’s doing, Atsushi flies across the room and quickly takes the cup from Akutagawa before it can spill.
Now that he’s sitting right next to his partner, Atsushi can’t help but notice that Akutagawa looks a lot worse up close. His loose shorts expose his knees, revealing how boney and thin he really is under all the layers of clothes he usually wears. His hair is greasy and matted, testament to the fact that he probably hasn’t showered since he got injured…a week ago.
Are those the same shorts he was wearing yesterday? Atsushi thinks to himself, unconsciously rubbing his partner’s back as he catches his breath. At least the shirt is different…although it’s no less offensive than the orange one…
The weretiger ignores the way he can feel Akutagawa’s rattling breaths and every one of his protruding ribs as he rubs the other man’s back. Atsushi bites his lip, deep in thought. I wonder if Akutagawa has eaten today…
As soon as the mafioso has managed to catch his breath, Atsushi reaches for his hand and resolutely pulls him to his feet. “What are you…”
“Come on.” Atsushi interrupts his partner’s protests, pulling him toward the room he remembers Gin said was Akutagawa’s bedroom. “You need to take a shower. You stink.”
“Hey!”
As soon as Atsushi opens the bedroom door, he knows he made the right decision. The floor of the room is covered in an assortment of dirty clothes and the dropped trinkets. On the bed is the mess of tubing that Atsushi can only assume to be the supplemental oxygen routine. Atsushi suspects that Akutagawa hasn’t worn it since Gin forced him to the evening before.
Well, good thing Atsushi is here now.
“Sit on the bed.” Atsushi says, finally releasing his partner’s hand. To his surprise, Akutagawa obeys and allows Atsushi to make his way toward the closet. “Here’s the plan – and don’t tell me no!” Atsushi cuts off Akutagawa’s protests before they can begin. “You are going to take a shower and wash your hair. You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”
“But I–”
“I’m not done.” Frankly, Atsushi is surprised that he hasn’t been skewered by Yellow-Rashomon yet. “Then, once you’re clean, you’ll put on equally clean clothes and sit on the couch so you can do your breathing stuff.”
To Atsushi’s never-ending shock, Akutagawa’s only response is a defeated “okay.”
“Just ‘okay’?”
Akutagawa pillows his head in his hands from where he sits on the edge of the bed. Now, instead of an annoyed highlighter, he looks like a pitifully sad and exhausted highlighter.
“Okay.”