Chapter Text
“What the…”
Jakurai smiles pleasantly as the front door opens, raising one of his hands to wave. The other rests atop a bag hanging off of his shoulder.
“Hello, Hitoya,” he says warmly. “Are you feeling any better?”
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Hitoya complains loudly, his head dropping between his shoulders. It’s more to voice his irritation than anything, considering he already knows the answer.
Goddamn brats…!
“Kuko-kun and Jyushi-kun gave me a call,” Jakurai answers in a slightly scolding tone, immediately confirming his suspicions. “I do wish you would be more willing to tell me these things yourself, though.”
“Hmph.” He turns away and frowns. “What, and have you come all the way here just to fuss over me? I’m a grown man.” He hears a light chuckle, and has to actively push back against the fluttering sensation it’d normally send through his stomach.
“Well, I’m here regardless, so you may just have to submit yourself to that fate.” Jakurai leans forward a bit, waiting patiently until Hitoya finally turns back to meet his gaze, and smiles wider. “May I come in?” As expected, a rough sigh comes out in response.
“Fine.”
“Thank you for having me.” He gently takes one of Hitoya’s hands in his as he crosses into the apartment, and strokes his knuckles as he slips out of his shoes. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Not yet,” Hitoya mumbles, looking up at the clock and doing a quick calculation in his head. “Did you really come all this way first thing in the day?”
“Of course I did,” Jakurai answers quickly; concern paints across his face. “Jyushi-kun said you fainted in your office.” A chill runs down Hitoya’s spine, and he grimaces.
“I didn’t faint, I just…” He crosses his arms tightly against his chest. “Lost my balance a bit.”
“I should remind you that my line of work means I’m very used to hearing excuses,” Jakurai notes lightly as he pulls his arms out of his coat’s sleeves.
“Lay off,” Hitoya grumbles, running a hand through his unkempt hair and averting his gaze. “I can’t be worse than Kannonzaka.”
“That’s…” Jakurai clears his throat, hiding his smile behind a hand to his chin. “He has Hifumi-kun to keep his bad habits in check, at least.” The two of them step toward the couch in the living room, where Jakurai sets his coat and bag down. “But to put that aside, if you’re alright with me using your kitchen, you can rest while I make something to eat.”
Hitoya squints, about to point out that if there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s other people using his stuff, but somehow the complaint evaporates in his throat when he sees the plainly affectionate smile facing him. To be honest, his head has been throbbing with a dull yet persistent pain ever since he first left for work in the morning, and his limbs still feel heavy with fatigue.
“Just… don’t break anything,” he mutters after a few moments. Jakurai nods, his expression softening further, and approaches him for a quick hug.
Warm. Hitoya leans into his arms and rests his head against his shoulder.
“Of course. You can leave everything to me today.” Hitoya huffs a bit, but says nothing. After a couple of soft pats on the back, Jakurai unwraps his arms and steps back toward the kitchen. “Rest up in the meantime,” he adds with a tilt of his head, then turns and walks behind the counter at the other end of the living room so he can look through the fridge.
Hitoya drops down onto the couch, and for a bit he simply watches as Jakurai starts pulling things out and laying them on the counter. What should be an utterly mundane scene is somehow annoyingly eye-catching, but he quickly looks away when Jakurai turns in his direction to use the sink. A soft chuckle comes from the other side of the room, but they both say nothing.
Now looking toward the window, Hitoya’s eyes trace down a stripe of sunlight that streams through the apartment. He adjusts how he’s lying down to put himself in its reach, letting out a deep exhale when the light hits the side of his head and starts to soothe the way it aches. Across from him, a knife starts chopping through vegetables; there in a pocket of warmth, his eyes gradually shut and he slips into slumber to the sound of rhythmic tap, tap, tapping.
—
“Hitoya.”
A gentle voice is accompanied by a soft touch to his cheek. He stirs, his fingers twitching knuckle by knuckle as his body awakens in waves.
“Hm…?” His eyelids feel heavy but slowly rise, and the curtain of long hair spilling down toward him comes into focus before the rest of the room follows suit.
“Awake?” His eyes meet Jakurai’s, crinkled with his smile as he leans over the couch. The hand against his face gently strums its fingers. “Lunch is ready.”
“Ngh…” Hitoya groggily raises a hand to his face and rubs at his eyes as he sits up. A bit more alert now, a series of pleasant scents hits his nose as Jakurai turns back toward the kitchen and returns with a tray of dishes.
“Nothing too fancy, but hopefully still agreeable,” he says as he puts two bowls in front of Hitoya atop the coffee table in the living room. He leans over to peer at their contents; one is filled with soup and chunks of vegetables, and the other has a heap of fresh rice topped with a few slices of fried ham.
“Looks good,” he notes quietly, watching intently as Jakurai sits down across from him and sets a small plate of pickled vegetables between them. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replies as he takes his own portion off the tray. “Let’s eat.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
Their chopsticks and soup spoons clack against their bowls. Hitoya takes a sip of the soup, and Jakurai watches keenly as he goes for another spoonful; his pleased smile is so obvious that Hitoya can’t help but smirk a bit in return despite his lingering fatigue.
“Ah,” Jakurai says with a blink after a few moments’ silence. “May I ask what happened this morning?” Hitoya chokes, and jerks forward in his seat. “Jyushi-kun was a bit panicked when we spoke over the phone, so he wasn’t very specific…”
“Tch…” Hitoya screws his eyes shut and sighs into his bowl. “Listen. I just got a little tired and lost my footing on the way to my desk, and it spooked my underlings a bit, alright? It’s really not the end of the world.”
“Have you been sleeping properly lately?” The natural follow-up question.
Hitoya purses his lips against the rim of his bowl, and doesn’t answer.
“A big case, I take it?” Jakurai tilts his head to the side, wearing a concerned smile. Another sigh.
“I’m not about to take criticism for being a workaholic from you, of all people.” Hitoya raises his soup bowl for another mouthful.
“Fair enough,” Jakurai chuckles, resting a hand against his cheek. “In lieu of a lecture, you’ll simply have to endure being doted on all day instead.” Hitoya’s knuckles twitch against his spoon and his expression contorts into a mortified scowl, though his cheeks redden slightly.
“Your tackiness’ll kill me before the exhaustion ever gets a chance,” he complains.
“Maybe that should be your incentive to take better care of yourself, then,” Jakurai replies cheerfully.
“Hmph.” Hitoya lifts his bowl again to hide the way the corners of his lips twitch upward. “You sure look pleased with yourself.”
“Haha!”
The living room falls into a comfortable silence as they wind down their meal; when their bowls are empty, Jakurai collects them one by one and returns them to the tray before rising to his feet.
“Had enough to eat?” he asks. Hitoya nods.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He leans over in his seat. “Thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.” When Jakurai turns to head back toward the sink, Hitoya rises and follows after him.
“At least leave the dishes to me,” he offers, only to be met with a playful nudge from Jakurai’s foot.
“Not a chance. Like I said, you’re going to have to leave everything to me today.” Hitoya makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh; as gentle as Jakurai’s voice is, he can tell he’s firmly digging in his heels. “Are there any errands you needed to run today?” he asks, setting the dishes into the sink and running the tap. Hitoya smirks and leans on the other side of the counter.
“You’d be doing me a big favor if you convinced everyone at the office to let me back in,” he suggests. Jakurai clicks his tongue and shakes his head as he washes their utensils and sets them aside to dry, though a smile spreads across his face.
“I think not,” he answers simply, not looking up from the sink. “No work. Doctor’s orders.”
“Boo.”
“Let me know if you need any shopping done in town, though.”
“No, not really.” Hitoya rests his head on one of his hands and laughs dryly. “You’re gonna be bored as hell, hanging around here.”
“Spending time with you is never boring,” Jakurai replies. “Besides, I quite enjoy making sure that people take a proper rest.”
“Lots of experience?” Hitoya snorts.
“More than you can imagine.” Jakurai chuckles as he sets the last of the dishes to dry, and wipes his hands on a towel sitting beside the sink. “How are you feeling now, by the way?”
“Still a little achy,” Hitoya admits with a sigh, waving his other hand in a circle.
“I have some anti-inflammatory pills, I’ll fetch them for you.” Jakurai steps back into the living room to return to his bag, and starts rummaging through it. “How about you go lie down and take a nap in bed?”
“I guess I wouldn’t mind…” After a beat, Hitoya squints. “What’ll you be doing in the meantime?”
“I’ll find something to keep myself busy,” Jakurai answers, plucking a pill bottle from his bag and returning to his side to hand it over to him; he idly pours one out and swallows it down. “Maybe I could tidy up the kitchen and living room a bit.” At that suggestion, Hitoya involuntarily narrows his eyes further, prompting a puzzled blink. “What’re you making that face for?”
“I feel like…” Gears start to turn in Hitoya’s head. “I feel like I might regret leaving you unsupervised around my stuff.”
“Hm?” Jakurai raises an eyebrow.
“Not that I have much from back in school, but…”
“Hitoya…?”
“Then again…”
Jakurai watches while Hitoya scratches at his chin with his eyes shut and a deeply furrowed brow. His jaw prods forward with his frown.
“No… No, you’re coming with me. I don’t need you running your mouth and making Izanami and Kannonzaka give me that stare again…” He’s seemingly muttering more to himself than to Jakurai.
“Stare…?” When Hitoya still doesn’t respond, lost in his thoughts, Jakurai closes the gap between them and wraps his arms around his waist, prompting him to finally pop his eyes back open. “I’m not really sure what you’re talking about, but I’m happy to stay with you if that’s what you want.”
“Hmph.” Hitoya plunks the side of his head against Jakurai’s shoulder and crosses his arms. “I suppose there’s no other choice.” He looks up. “Do you need to borrow some clothes to sleep in?”
“No, I’ve brought a change with me.” Jakurai gestures toward his bag.
“How presumptuous, assuming I’d let you stay over,” Hitoya jokes. Jakurai strokes his hair.
“You wouldn’t turn me away. I know you far too well.” He deftly dodges the expected poke to his ribs, stepping back to go retrieve his bag. Hitoya squints as he walks backward toward the hallway.
“Alright, alright. C’mon, you cheesy old man.”
Jakurai beams, and follows.
“Of course.”
—
“Try to ignore the clutter in here.”
Jakurai chuckles as he closes the bathroom door behind himself and sets aside the clothes he changed out of. Hitoya’s at the window, drawing down the shades. When they both move toward the bed, he shuffles a small stack of strewn papers lying by his pillow and moves them to his bedside table.
“No wonder your little incident happened,” Jakurai tuts, shaking his head.
“I’ll rest for real, alright?” Hitoya sighs, exaggeratedly plopping himself down. “See?”
“Hm…” Jakurai swings his legs onto the other side of the bed and lies down. “I’m not thoroughly convinced you’ll stay,” he says playfully, then extends his arms and flutters his fingers. “I’ll have to hold you in place to make sure.”
“What a subtle pretense, sensei,” Hitoya snorts. “And you accuse me of not being honest.” Despite his tone, he still scoots over until he’s in Jakurai’s reach, and lets him pull him in close and draw the blanket over them both.
“Just another thing you’ll have to endure.” Jakurai smiles when he feels fingers play softly with his hair.
“I guess.” Hitoya curls up tighter against Jakurai and stares at his collarbone. “You didn’t have to come all this way, y’know.”
“Hush,” Jakurai replies, lacing his fingers together against the small of Hitoya’s back. “I like taking care of people.”
“Hmph.” He shuts his eyes, and the warmth between them seems to grow.
“I especially like taking care of you.” Lips press lightly against the shell of his ear.
“Alright, alright!” Hitoya headbutts Jakurai’s shoulder lightly; his cheeks burn red. “Maybe I should just banish you to the couch after all.”
“I thought you didn’t want to leave me unsupervised,” Jakurai points out, a teasing tone to his gentle voice.
“Tch…” Hitoya plants his face further into his neck.
“But if you really want me to…”
“Stay.” Hitoya clenches his fists against his back, urging them into an even closer hold. “You’re so corny.”
“Heh.” Jakurai rests his chin atop his head. “Never change. My dear, capricious Hitoya.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
They settle into silence, the only noise being the occasional breeze rustling through the trees outside. Jakurai stares out the slits between the shades, where sparse clouds slowly trail across a field of azure, and idly runs his hands in soothing motions along the plane of Hitoya’s back.
“I’ll help make dinner later.” A soft mumble breaks the silence; Jakurai hums in surprise, thinking Hitoya had fallen asleep. “I can’t stand leaving all the work to someone else.”
“I understand,” Jakurai replies, then pats the back of his head. “Let’s see how you feel after you’ve rested.”
“Hm.” He nods softly, his stubble raking against the fabric of Jakurai’s shirt.
The room falls quiet again. Though he doesn’t keep track of how long the moment lasts, Jakurai watches keenly as Hitoya’s chest rises and falls, and another smile plays at his lips when he feels the hands clinging to his shirt relax their grip and slip downward.
Rest well, and feel better.
He lets his own eyes fall shut in turn, nuzzling Hitoya’s hair. Everything is impossibly soft and cozy as they drift into slumber; the world itself slows down and shrinks to just the space between them, where warmth and affection pool quietly, yet limitlessly.