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Dazai’s head felt heavy, like someone had stuffed a bag of sand inside it. His body was weaker than usual, and he urgently needed to lie down somewhere. His own body was demanding it, as if the mere act of staying seated was an insult to itself.
So he was currently sprawled across the Agency’s desk, his cheek squished against the papers Kunikida had carefully organized just minutes earlier.
“I’m going to die…” he muttered dramatically.
Across the desk, Kunikida lifted his eyes from his notebook.
“You said that yesterday.”
“Yes, but yesterday I was healthy. Today is different. Today is tragic. It’s not like I want to die. I’m just going to die. And it’s going to hurt. I hate this.”
He sniffed loudly, pulling up the sleeve of his coat to wipe his nose in a way completely devoid of dignity.
Kunikida frowned.
“Don’t you dare use my report as a tissue.”
Dazai sneezed, directing the entire explosion of spit and mucus toward the desk.
“Too late.”
Kunikida took a deep breath, clearly reconsidering every life decision that had led him to working with this man.
Dazai let out another dramatic sigh and slumped further down in the chair.
“Kunikida… I think I see the light.”
“That’s the lamp.”
“Ah.”
Dazai allowed Kunikida to enjoy ten seconds of silence before slowly lifting his head again, half-lidded eyes watching Kunikida typing furiously.
Working.
Boring.
“Kunikida.”
“What.”
“If I die, tell Chuuya he was always a terrible partner.”
“You are not going to die from the flu.”
“That’s exactly what someone says right before I die from the flu.”
Kunikida slammed his hands down on the notebook on his desk and sighed loudly.
“Go home.”
Dazai blinked.
“Hm?”
“You’re sick, even more useless than usual, and you haven’t produced absolutely anything today. Not that that’s different from other days, but you didn’t even bother dumping your work on Atsushi for him to do. Go home before I drag you out myself.”
Dazai was silent for a few seconds… and then gave a faint smile.
“Kunikida, you care about me.”
“I care about the Agency’s productivity.”
“So I can go?”
“Please.”
Dazai was already getting up before the sentence finished.
“See you tomorrow! Or at my funeral.”
“And don’t come back until you’re better!”
The walk to Chuuya’s apartment felt much longer than usual.
Every step made his head throb. His nose was stuffed, his throat scratchy, and his whole body felt heavy.
He sniffed again, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
“I’m going to die and it won’t even be a beautiful philosophical death. It’ll be slow, painful, and full of mucus… my dignity is truly gone,” he muttered to himself.
Dazai noticed a few people on the street staring at him, something he promptly ignored. If he were healthy, he might’ve waved. Maybe even smiled. Perhaps invited someone to a double suicide if they were attractive.
But he felt too awful to even think about suicide, and that alone proved just how bad he was doing.
After several minutes of dragging his feet down the sidewalk, he finally reached the building.
He ignored the doorman the same way he’d ignored the people on the street and slowly made his way up to the penthouse.
“Maybe I’ll actually die here… no, I can’t. He’d enjoy that too much…”
When he reached the apartment door, he pulled a set of lockpicks from his pocket.
Dazai did have a key.
Definitely not one Chuuya had given him, but he had “borrowed” it months ago.
However, breaking into the place would irritated Chuuya like nothing else, and Dazai—even on the brink of death—was determined to die while irritating his partner.
The door opened silently.
The apartment was dark and quiet. It was still early, so that was expected.
Dazai stepped inside slowly, removing his shoes without making a sound.
He knew Chuuya had worked late the night before.
He was probably still asleep.
Perfect.
Dazai walked down the hallway like a tired ghost, and when he opened the bedroom door, he found exactly what he expected.
Chuuya was completely buried in the bed, wrapped in blankets, his red hair spread across the pillow.
Sleeping deeply.
Beautiful.
Not that Dazai would admit it to anyone but himself, but Chuuya really was beautiful—even while sleeping.
Which was completely unfair.
Dazai stood in the doorway for a few seconds, just watching.
Then he whispered dramatically:
“Chuuya… I’m dying.”
No reaction.
He walked to the bed.
Stopped beside it.
Looked down at his sleeping partner.
“Heartless.”
Without further ceremony, Dazai removed his coat, tossed it onto the floor, and climbed straight under the blankets. He was cold, and he could feel the warmth radiating from Chuuya—very welcome warmth.
He immediately moved closer, wrapping an arm around Chuuya’s waist and pulling him closer like a particularly comfortable pillow.
“Warm…” he murmured with satisfaction.
Chuuya grumbled something unintelligible in his sleep.
Dazai pressed his face into his neck.
Sighed.
“I think I can survive a few more hours if I stay like this.”
A few seconds passed.
Then Chuuya stirred.
Slowly.
His eyes still closed, voice rough with sleep:
“…Dazai?”
“Hm.”
“Why are you in my bed?”
“Because I’m dying.”
“What time is it, idiot?”
“Seven, I think.”
“And why aren’t you working, you useless idiot?” Chuuya muttered sleepily, shifting a bit to get comfortable, still trapped in Dazai’s arms.
“I told you I’m dying, Chuuya. Don’t be a slug when I need you.”
Silence.
Chuuya slowly opened one eye.
He felt the body pressed against him.
Too warm.
He frowned.
Turned his head slightly and pressed his forehead against Dazai’s.
Paused.
“…You’re hot.”
“Slowly and painfully dying… dying, dying, dying.”
“You have a fever, idiot.”
Dazai sniffed.
“Kunikida tried to kill me with work.”
“Very funny. Where does it hurt?”
“What part of I’m dying didn’t you hear, chibi? My whole body hurts.”
Chuuya sighed, still clearly half asleep.
“Judging by your voice, you probably have the flu, idiot.”
He tried to turn over—
But Dazai tightened his hold.
“No.”
“Get off me.”
“No.”
“Dazai.”
“You’re warm.”
Chuuya stayed silent for a few seconds, too sleepy to argue. He had only gotten home a few hours ago.
Finally he let out a heavy sigh and pulled the blanket up a little more over both of them.
“Did you bring medicine?”
“No.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Chuuya absentmindedly ran a hand through Dazai’s hair, checking his temperature more carefully.
“Did you take anything?”
“I took your bed.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Dazai buried his face deeper in his shoulder.
“Chuuuyaaa…”
“What, mummy.”
“If I die…”
“Shut up, idiot. It’s the flu.”
“No one respects my deathbed.”
Chuuya shifted slightly, pulling Dazai closer so his head settled again against his neck.
He let out a sigh he would never admit was comfort.
“Sleep.”
“Are you taking care of me?”
“No.”
“I knew you loved m—”
“Dazai.”
“Hm?”
“Sleep before I throw you off the bed.”
Dazai went quiet.
For a few seconds.
Then murmured, almost asleep:
“Your heart is very kind, chibi.”
Chuuya didn’t answer.
But he didn’t let go either.
And a few minutes later, they were both asleep again.
Chuuya woke up first because of the weight.
It wasn't unusual. In fact, it had happened so many times that he didn't even find it strange anymore to wake up with a certain idiot who was far too tall taking up half of his bed.
The problem was that, this time, the idiot was glued to him.
Arms wrapped around his waist. Face buried in his neck. One leg thrown over his, and Dazai's body practically draped on top of him, blocking any airflow.
Chuuya frowned, still half-asleep, trying to reach his phone on the nightstand and squinting at the brightness that hit his eyes.
The clock read seven thirty.
Great. Thirty minutes of sleep before being bothered again.
"...Dazai."
No response.
He poked the other's arm.
"Hey. Worm. Get off me."
Dazai made a low protesting sound and pressed himself even closer.
Chuuya froze for a second.
"...You have got to be kidding me."
"Chuuya..." the voice came out muffled against his neck "...don't move."
Chuuya rolled his eyes.
"I was sleeping just fine before you invaded my house."
"I'm dying."
"Then kindly die somewhere else."
Dazai took a dramatic breath.
"Cruel… so cruel to a man on the verge of death…"
"You have a COLD."
"A deadly cold."
Chuuya scoffed and tried to free himself, but the moment he moved, Dazai tightened the hug.
"Chuuya, you can't run away from me in my moment of need."
"I AM TRYING TO BREATHE, YOU BASTARD."
Dazai completely ignored that.
"Sick people need human warmth..."
"What you need is a psychiatric hospital."
Chuuya finally managed to turn his head slightly to look at him — and that was when he noticed.
Dazai's cheeks were flushed.
His hair stuck to his forehead.
His breathing was warmer than usual against Chuuya's skin.
Chuuya frowned.
"...Dazai."
"Hm?"
"You're still running a fever, aren't you?"
"Because I'm dying."
Chuuya sighed deeply, already feeling irritation mixing with concern.
With some effort, he lifted his hand and touched the other's forehead.
Hot.
Very hot.
"Your fever hasn't gone down."
"I know."
"Why didn't you go home?"
Dazai slowly opened one eye, looking at him with that lazy expression, a faint pout threatening to appear on his lips.
"Because you take better care of me."
Chuuya went silent for a second.
"I don't take care of you."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I DON'T—"
Before he could finish, Dazai curled closer again, hiding his face in Chuuya's neck.
"Chuuya…" he murmured hoarsely. "I'm weak…"
Chuuya froze.
"...You're ridiculous."
"Probably."
"And dramatic."
"With Chuuya, yes."
"And a parasite who invades my house."
"Our house."
Silence.
Chuuya sighed.
Slowly — very much against his dignity — he pulled the blanket higher over both of them.
"If you drool on me, I'll kill you."
Dazai let out a small satisfied sound.
"I knew you loved me."
"Shut up."
Dazai didn't answer.
But his arms tightened slightly around Chuuya again, as if he were absolutely certain he wouldn't be kicked out.
"...Idiot," Chuuya muttered.
"Dazai... you're really hot."
"Is Chuuya trying to seduce me? As flattered as I am, I don't think I can do anything today."
"Idiot... Fine. Stay here."
"No."
Chuuya frowned.
"What do you mean no?"
Dazai tightened his grip on his arm, preventing him from getting out of bed.
"If you get up… you'll leave and I'll lose my personal furnace, so no."
"I'm getting medicine, you idiot."
"I don't need medicine."
"You just said you were dying."
"I need attention."
Chuuya stared at him for a few seconds.
"You're pathetic."
"I'm fragile."
"For the last time, Dazai, it's just a cold."
"A very sad cold that is slowly leading me to meet the magnificent death."
Chuuya tried to get up again.
That was a mistake.
Dazai immediately clung to him much tighter than before.
"NO."
"Dazai."
"Don't abandon me."
"That was pathetic and I'm going to the kitchen."
"It's far." Dazai pouted, trying to cling even more to Chuuya's neck.
"It's ten steps."
"I could die in those ten steps."
Chuuya closed his eyes.
Took a deep breath and counted to five in his head to avoid committing homicide.
"If you don't let go right now, I swear I'll call someone from the Agency to come here and drag you out of this apartment."
Dazai opened one eye.
"You would do that to me?"
"Without remorse."
Silence.
After a few seconds, Dazai finally let go of his arm… but made a deeply offended sound.
"Betrayal."
"Shut up."
Chuuya got out of bed and grabbed water and a pill from the bathroom cabinet.
When he came back, he found exactly what he expected.
Dazai was buried in the pillow, pretending to suffer.
"I'm not taking it."
Chuuya placed the glass on the table.
"You are."
"I don't like it."
"I didn't ask."
"It's bitter."
"It doesn't even have a taste, just swallow it."
Dazai turned his face away dramatically.
"I'd rather die."
Chuuya crossed his arms.
"Fine."
Silence.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Dazai opened one eye.
"...You're not going to convince me?"
"No."
"Not even beg?"
"Me? You're the one who wants to get better."
"You won't even say you need me alive?"
"Absolutely not."
More silence.
Chuuya picked up the pill.
"Open your mouth."
"No."
"Dazai."
"No."
"I'm going to shove this down your throat."
Dazai narrowed his eyes.
"Domestic violence."
Chuuya grabbed his face with one hand.
"OPEN."
"THIS IS AN ABUSE OF—"
The pill went in.
Chuuya immediately pushed the glass to his mouth.
"SWALLOW IT, YOU DAMN FISH—"
Dazai swallowed on reflex, still glaring at Chuuya in outrage.
The two of them froze for a second.
Then Chuuya let go.
"There."
Dazai stared at him, horrified.
"You just drugged me."
"You're a baby."
"I was forced."
"A dramatic baby."
Dazai stared at him for a few seconds…
Then slowly grabbed Chuuya by the waist, pulling him back down onto the bed while he grumbled, burying himself against him again.
"Now you're going to sleep," Chuuya said.
"I'm only here because I'm weak."
"Sure."
"When I get better, I'll leave."
"Uh-huh."
Dazai tightened the hug.
"But until then… you're my pillow."
Chuuya rolled his eyes.
"You're unbearable."
"You like it."
Chuuya stayed quiet for a few seconds, running his fingers through Dazai's hair, hugging him tightly and placing a small kiss on his neck.
"Sleep. I'm here."
Chuuya thought he’d finally get some peace.
Dazai was half-asleep, his breathing slower now, still clinging to him like some kind of human octopus. Chuuya, surprisingly enough, didn’t really mind.
The room was quiet.
Just the faint sound of rain outside and Dazai’s warm breathing against his neck.
Chuuya was just about to drift off again when he felt Dazai shift slightly.
“Chuuya…”
The voice came out soft.
Rough with sleep.
Chuuya opened one eye.
“Hm.”
“You’re warm.”
“You’ve got a fever, Osamu.”
“No… you’re warm.”
Dazai’s arm tightened a little around his waist.
Chuuya sighed as Dazai somehow managed to snuggle even closer, like that was physically possible.
“The medicine will help, Osamu. Let’s get some sleep, okay?”
“I like it.”
“The fever?”
“You like this…”
Chuuya went quiet.
That… was not a normal sentence coming from Dazai.
“It’s fine. I’m here, okay? Just get some rest,” he murmured.
But Dazai didn’t seem interested in sleeping.
Instead, he pressed his forehead against the back of Chuuya’s neck, clearly looking for more contact.
“Chuuya…”
“What.”
“You smell nice.”
Chuuya froze for half a second.
“It’s shampoo.”
“No.”
Silence.
“It’s Chuuya.”
Chuuya slowly closed his eyes.
Fever.
It had to be the fever.
“You’re delirious.”
“Am I? But it’s true… it’s nice.”
The arm around his waist tightened again.
“I like it when you take care of me.”
Chuuya opened his eyes.
He tilted his head slightly, trying to see Dazai’s face, but Dazai was too busy burying his face against his chest, like he was trying to crawl inside him.
“You hate taking medicine.”
“I do. But I like you.”
Chuuya stared at the ceiling.
Took a deep breath.
Counted to ten.
“It’s the fever. Definitely the fever,” he muttered under his breath, hoping that would end this incredibly awkward conversation.
“Maybe.”
Dazai rubbed his face against Chuuya’s shoulder like a cat trying to get comfortable.
“Don’t go.”
Chuuya frowned.
“How exactly would I leave with you clinging to me like this?”
“Still… don’t.”
Silence.
Chuuya hesitated… then ran a hand through Dazai’s messy hair.
Slowly.
An automatic gesture.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.
Dazai relaxed almost immediately.
His whole body went heavier against Chuuya.
“Good.”
“Now sleep.”
“Hm.”
A few seconds passed in silence.
Chuuya thought he had finally fallen asleep.
Then Dazai mumbled again.
“Chuuya…”
“Dazai…”
“You’re a good boyfriend.”
Chuuya froze.
His brain completely stopped working for two full seconds.
“You’re really sick.”
“I know.”
“Sleep.”
“Okay.”
And this time, Dazai really did pass out.
Slow breathing.
Still holding him tightly.
Chuuya lay there staring at the ceiling for a few minutes.
Then he sighed.
“Feverish idiot…”
But he didn’t pull his arm away.
If anything, he pulled Dazai a little closer before finally closing his eyes again and drifting off—this time without interruption.
The first thing Dazai noticed when he woke up was that he was hugging someone.
The second thing he noticed was that the someone was Chuuya.
The third thing was that his face was buried in Chuuya’s neck in a way that felt deeply, catastrophically tragic.
Dazai slowly opened his eyes.
Thought for two seconds.
Three.
Then very carefully tried to pull away.
“You awake?”
Dazai froze.
“No.”
“Impressive,” Chuuya said dryly. “A corpse that answers.”
Dazai opened one eye.
Chuuya was staring straight ahead, lying there calmly like nothing at all was happening.
“Your fever’s gone,” he continued.
“Unfortunately.”
“Feeling better, drama queen?”
Dazai finally shifted back a little, still suspicious.
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
Chuuya went quiet.
A strange kind of quiet.
Dazai narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you quiet?”
“Thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
Chuuya slowly turned his head to look at him.
“You don’t remember anything from yesterday?”
Dazai blinked.
“I was sick.”
“Yes.”
“So I probably slept.”
“No.”
“Passed out?”
“Also no.”
Silence.
Dazai felt a vague sense of existential dread creeping in.
“Chuuya…”
“Hm.”
“What did I do?”
Chuuya shrugged.
“Nothing much.”
“CHUUYA.”
“You just talked a lot.”
Dazai frowned.
“Talked about what?”
Chuuya looked far too calm.
And Chuuya being calm was never a good sign.
“You said I smell nice.”
Dazai blinked.
“…That’s actually acceptable.”
“You said you like it when I take care of you.”
Dazai blinked again.
“…Okay, that’s… also acceptable.”
Chuuya raised an eyebrow.
“You said I’m warm.”
“I had a fever.”
“You said I smell like ‘Chuuya.’”
Dazai paused.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I was insulting you.”
“And you said I couldn’t leave.”
Now Dazai looked a little concerned.
“I said that?”
“You did.”
“And you clung to me like a desperate octopus. I just wanted to roll over, you know.”
Chuuya rested his chin in his hand, clearly amused by the horrified look on Dazai’s face.
“Oh, and you also said I’m a good boyfriend.”
Silence.
Total.
Absolute.
Dazai stared at him like the universe had just collapsed and he was the only survivor.
“I… said… that?”
Chuuya nodded calmly.
“Word for word.”
Dazai sat up slowly.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I would never say that.”
“You did.”
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”
“But you did.”
“I was delirious.”
“Probably.”
Dazai rubbed a hand over his face.
“This didn’t happen.”
“It did.”
“This is a collective hallucination.”
“It was just me there.”
“Then it’s a conspiracy.”
Chuuya was clearly enjoying this now.
“Want me to continue?”
Dazai slowly turned his head.
“There’s more?”
“Plenty.”
Dazai looked genuinely horrified.
“What else did I say?”
Chuuya thought for a moment.
“You said you like it when I take care of you.”
“You already said that. Don’t repeat it.”
“You said it twice.”
Dazai pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I had a high fever.”
“You also said you like when I’m warm. That I’m your personal furnace.”
“FEVER.”
“And there was the whole ‘Chuuya please don’t go’ part.”
“DELIRIUM. DO NOT TRUST THE WORDS OF A DELIRIOUS PERSON, CHUUYA. THAT IS UNETHICAL.”
“And—”
“CHUUYAAA.”
Chuuya finally laughed.
“Relax, Dazai.”
“I revealed weakness.”
“It was pathetic.”
“I was vulnerable.”
“Very.”
“I will never sleep sick near you again.”
Chuuya shrugged.
“Too bad.”
“Why?”
“Because I liked it.”
Dazai stared at him.
Then dropped back onto the bed.
“I hate fevers.”
“I liked it,” Chuuya repeated.
“You’re cruel.”
“You said you like me.”
“I DID NOT SAY THAT.”
Chuuya smirked.
“Yes you did.”
Silence.
Dazai pulled the blanket over his face.
“I’m going to pretend I died yesterday.”
“Dramatic.”
“This is humiliating.”
“You also called me a good boyfriend.”
“I KNOW.”
“Just confirming.”
“I HATE YOU.”
Chuuya smiled faintly.
“Liar.”
Dazai was still lying there, buried under the blanket up to his nose.
Silent.
Processing.
Or at least trying to.
Meanwhile, Chuuya looked very busy staring at his phone.
But the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gave everything away.
“Chuuya.”
“Hm.”
“I need to know something.”
“Know what?”
“Exactly everything I said.”
“What for?”
“Damage control.”
Chuuya thought for a moment. He’d already mentioned most of it, but there were a few things he knew Dazai would never admit out loud. Secrets Dazai pretended to hide, and Chuuya pretended not to notice.
“Hm.”
“CHUUYA.”
“Fine.”
He set his phone down.
“You also said you like it when I run my hand through your hair.”
Dazai froze.
“I… wouldn’t say that.”
“You did.”
“I have dignity.”
“Not yesterday.”
Dazai pulled the blanket higher over his face.
“That was the fever.”
“Obviously.”
Chuuya looked far too entertained.
“You also said I’m comfortable.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“And that my hugs are nice.”
“That’s physiological.”
“That you can’t imagine yourself without me anymore.”
Dazai twisted on the bed in pure despair, which only made Chuuya more pleased.
“And that—”
Chuuya paused dramatically.
Dazai was visibly nervous now.
“And what?”
“Nothing.”
“CHUUYA.”
“Nothing important.”
“WHAT DID I SAY.”
Chuuya rested his chin on his hand.
“You said you wanted to marry me.”
Silence.
Dazai’s brain stopped working.
“…What.”
“Marry.”
“Marry?”
“Yes.”
Dazai shot upright in the bed.
“I WOULD NEVER SAY THAT.”
Chuuya shrugged.
“You did.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It isn’t.”
“I had a fever, not dementia.”
“You sounded pretty convinced.”
“CHUUYA.”
“You even said something like…”
He pretended to think.
“‘Chuuya would make a good husband.’”
Dazai grabbed his head with both hands.
“THAT IS SLANDER.”
“I’m just reporting facts.”
“THAT DID NOT HAPPEN.”
“It did.”
“I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS.”
Chuuya was clearly struggling not to laugh now.
“Want me to keep going?”
“NO.”
“There’s more.”
“THERE IS NOT.”
“There is.”
Dazai looked genuinely panicked now.
“WHAT ELSE DID I SAY.”
Chuuya tilted his head.
“You said I’m handsome.”
Dazai froze. He knew Chuuya was handsome — anyone with functioning eyes could see that.
“….”
“And that my hair is soft.”
“….”
“And that you like when I get mad. That’s why you enjoy annoying me.”
Dazai slowly curled back toward Chuuya again, refusing to look him in the eyes.
“I’m moving to another country.”
“Dramatic.”
“I’ve lost all self-respect.”
“You didn’t have much to begin with.”
“I trusted you while I was vulnerable.”
“That was a mistake.”
Dazai pulled the blanket over his face again.
“I can’t look at you anymore.”
Chuuya finally laughed.
A quiet, satisfied laugh.
“Relax.”
“I AM NOT RELAXED.”
“Half of that was a lie.”
Silence.
Dazai slowly lowered the blanket.
“…Half?”
Chuuya gave him a mischievous grin.
“The marriage part I made up. And some of the other things you don’t need to say — I just know.”
Dazai stared at him.
Processing.
“So I didn’t say that.”
“No.”
Dazai let out a relieved sigh.
“Thank God.”
Pause.
Chuuya continued.
“But you did say you like me warm.”
“….”
“That I smell good.”
“….”
“That I couldn’t leave.”
“….”
“And that I’m a good boyfriend.”
Dazai stared back at the ceiling.
“I’m going to throw myself off the Agency building.”
Chuuya crossed his arms.
“That was humiliating.”
“It was cute.”
Dazai slowly turned his head.
“Cute?”
“Cute.”
“I was pathetic.”
“Very.”
“I was needy.”
“For me? Very.”
Silence.
Then suddenly Dazai reached out and pulled him into another hug.
Exactly where he wanted him.
“HEY—”
Dazai buried his face in Chuuya’s shoulder.
“Now you’re going to suffer too.”
“HOW?”
“I’m still recovering.”
“That’s not how that works!”
“Yes it is.”
Chuuya tried to shove him away.
“You’re already better!”
“I’m still fragile.”
“LIAR.”
Dazai tightened his hold.
“You said I’m a good boyfriend.”
“I NEVER SAID THAT.”
“Well, I simply know you think that.”
Dazai smiled, throwing Chuuya’s own words back at him — which was one of his favorite things to do.
Chuuya grumbled…
…but he didn’t pull away.
And he stayed there in bed, taking care of an annoying, needy idiot he would never admit he loved with his whole heart.