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“Oi, go lay down.” Tengen calls as he doubles back to the hall where Zenitsu was sweeping. “Stubborn ass….” He mutters and rolls his eyes, putting the handful of out-of-place books, tea cups, and sweets tins on the nearest flat surface. He’ll get them to their proper destinations eventually. Maybe.
“I’m fine. It’s my turn to clean anyway.” Zenitsu pouts, drawing the broom across the sun-drenched, polished floor and pretending he’s just taking his time; that he’s just tired because he couldn’t sleep well and not because he’s fighting a fever making his joints ache. It’s barely noon, but he feels like he’s been awake for days.
Tengen comes up behind Zenitsu and gently takes the broom, pulling Zenitsu against his chest, “You were up half the night all whiny and pathetic. You’re sick, go rest.” He murmurs, kissing the top of Zenitsu’s head.
“I don’t wanna be siiiick…” Zenitsu whines, letting Tengen support him. It was ridiculous how winded he was just from sweeping a third of the hall. He drags the cloth from his head, mussing up his hair.
Tengen hugs him gently. “None of us want you to be either, so let’s get you back to bed.” He leaned the broom against the wall and scooped Zenitsu into his arms, brushing loose strands away from his face.
“I’m cold… my body hurts.”
“You’re pitiful.” Tengen says fondly, holding him closer as he carries Zenitsu upstairs.
“Pity meee.” Zenitsu drapes an arm around Tengen’s neck and whines pathetically against his shoulder.
“You poor thing.” He shakes his head, “How ever could something like this happen to someone so stubborn?”
“It isn’t fair, I shouldn’t get sick.”
“You shouldn’t stay out in the damn rain all day, then.” Tengen says flatly. He nudges the fusuma open with his foot and takes Zenitsu over to his futon. Tengen kneels and sets Zenitsu down, tucking him in. “There. You’re not allowed to leave your cocoon til you’re a butterfly, got it?”
Zenitsu laughs weakly, snuggling into the soft, cozy warmth. “Thank you…” he mumbles.
Tengen pets his head, stroking his thumb gently over Zenitsu’s cheek, “Mh. I’ll bring you some tea and medicine for your fever.”
Zenitsu makes a face, “It’s so bitter and gross…”
“We have some different stuff now, little pills so you don’t really taste anything. Suma heard about them from Aoi not too long ago and got some to keep at the house.”
“Oh. That’s neat.”
“Mhm. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Zenitsu nods and closes his eyes.
“C’mere, Sunshine.”
Zenitsu grunts and flutters his eyes open, squinting blearily at Tengen. He didn’t remember falling asleep. It must be around three, judging by the light. He shivers, wincing with every slight motion.
Tengen sits and scoots closer to Zenitsu, helping him into a mostly vertical position leaning against his chest. Tengen’s hair glows gold and silver in the beam of sunlight that always arcs across his room between two and five in the afternoon. “What gives you the right to look like that…?” Zenitsu cups Tengen’s cheek and lightly traces his thumb over the fading scar.
Tengen covers Zenitsu’s hand with his and kisses his palm, “I’m a God, aren’t I? It’s my divine right.”
“God of bullshit.”
Tengen snorts, grinning, “That, and many other things. Hush and drink your tea.” He holds the warm mug in front of Zenitsu, then hands him three small white tablets.
He takes a sip and hums contently, drinking about a third of it immediately. “It’s not sweet enough.” Zenitsu states before taking another sip. The warmth of the tea is divine, chasing away some of his chill.
Tengen rolls his eyes, “My apologies for not making tea syrup, your highness.”
“Aren’t Gods supposed to be perfect at everything?” Zenitsu takes the tablets and finishes off the tea. Tengen refills his mug and hands it back.
“There are plenty of stories of extremely fallible Gods, I’ve made no such claims of perfection.”
Zenitsu rests his head against Tengen’s shoulder as he savors the warmth seeping into his hands. He takes a few sips and fights the heaviness of his eyelids, but they win with the help of Tengen combing his fingers gently through his hair, and his steady thrumming heartbeat. Tengen saves the mug from Zenitsu’s relaxing grasp, setting it aside and pulling the blanket up over Zenitsu’s shoulder.
Zenitsu sighs contently, relaxing further. How did he end up so lucky? How’d he get someone so gorgeous, sweet, and caring; spoiling him with anything he could want - it was so perfect he couldn’t believe it sometimes.
“You’re the sweet one with all the konpeito you’re always crunching.”
Zenitsu smiles and hides his warm face against Tengen, “Didn’t mean to say that out loud….” Tengen’s chest flutters with silent laughter.
“Don’t go spilling deep, dark secrets because you’re delirious, now.” He teases.
“’S not a secret how much I love you.”
Tengen hugs him gently and kisses the top of his head, “I love you too, darling.”
Zenitsu hummed contently and snuggled up against Tengen.
———
An oil lamp’s dimmed flame wavers, glowing warm and yellow atop the desk when Zenitsu opens his eyes again. His blanket is bunched down around his legs and his jinbei stuck annoyingly to his damp skin. Zenitsu grimaces and blots his forehead on his sleeve, relieved that his joints weren’t aching for the moment. He kicks the rest of the blanket off and sits up, peeling his top away from his back. Zenitsu looks at the door wondering if he could make it downstairs.
The mound of blankets beside him rustles and a head of messy silver hair emerges with sleepy fucschia eyes blinking blearily into the dim light. “Mornin’ Sunshine.” Tengen rumbles and props himself up on his elbow. He rubs at his scarred eye with the heel of his palm.
Zenitsu yawns and sniffles, “’Morning. What time is it?”
“Late. Or early, depending.” Tengen sits up cross-legged in the middle of his futon, “How are you feeling?”
“Gross.”
Tengen snorts, “I bet. You look gross.”
“Rude.” Zenitsu scowls.
Tengen stretches and chuckles. “Want a bath?”
Zenitsu nods, slowly rising to his feet and catching himself as the room tilts. His legs feel weird and wobbly as he shambles over to the closet, finding his arms equally weird and clumsy while gathering a set of clean clothes.
“Can you make it down on your own?”
“Probably wouldn’t be a good idea.” He sighs, shuffling over to Tengen and pressing his forehead against his chest, rethinking this whole getting up idea. Tengen rubs his back. “Maybe not a bath right now.” He mumbles weakly. He’d probably drown. Standing was quickly becoming a challenging task.
Tengen takes Zenitsu’s folded yukata and cradles his head, “Let’s get you changed and back to bed, then.” He helps Zenitsu out of his jinbei and wraps him in the very oversized yukata. “Aah, I was wondering where this one had gone.” Tengen remarks, recognizing the pattern and seeing how baggy it was around Zenitsu. “I suppose I should have known it was here.”
“It’s my favorite.” Zenitsu mumbles, nuzzling the sleeve.
“I’ll forgive you ‘cause you’re cute. And I like seeing you in my clothes.” Tengen tidies Zenitsu’s futon, untangling the blanket and smoothing the sheet. “Get over here, thief.”
Zenitsu huffs a soft laugh and plops face-first onto his futon, hugging the pillow while Tengen tucks him in and settles beside him. The soothing rhythm of Tengen gently petting his hair melts every bit of tension from his body. Weariness weighs his limbs and he feels like he’ll sink right through the plush bedding to the floor below. He turns his head after a few minutes, feeling pitiful as he looked up at Tengen, “Can you hold me?” he asks softly.
“Of course.”
Zenitsu scoots over some and Tengen cuddles up behind him, one arm beneath the pillow and the other draped over Zenitsu’s side. “Rest now, lovely.” He murmurs, squeezing him gently. Zenitsu laces his fingers with Tengen’s and snuggles into his embrace.