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Rui opened his eyes and thought, I must be dying.
His entire body ached, especially his lower back as he’d curled up against the violent chills that racked his body. His nose felt unbearably stuffy, the outer skin stinging from the number of times he had fruitlessly tried to stop it from running. And worst of all, Tsukasa was not next to him on the bed.
He closed his eyes and tried to push past the haze of the morning. Ah, right, Tsukasa had woken him up before sunrise, handing him a platter of toast and juice and medicine. A mask had been firmly over his face, preventing Rui from seeing that wonderful smile of his. His heart sinking at the fact that he had not gotten miraculously better overnight, Rui had suggested cancelling rehearsal. It would be unproductive and irresponsible for the director to show up in this condition.
Rui did not know what face he wore as he’d made the suggestion, but he remembered Tsukasa’s eyes softening before brightening again, filled with fiery determination. “Don’t worry, Rui! I’ll take care of the directing! You just stay home and get all the rest you need!”
Rui opened his eyes again and sighed. A part of him was selfishly irritated that Tsukasa had not stayed home with him, that Rui had to miss work while everyone else gave it their all for their second-to-last practice before dress rehearsal. Tsukasa had shown interest in directing and had been studying it on the side, but actually trying it in a formal setting was a whole different matter. Rui would be lying if he said he was not concerned.
Still, it was such an important rehearsal to cancel, and both of them knew it. He would place his faith in his star; it would not be the first time Tsukasa surprised him with his ability to overcome new challenges and come out on top, blindingly bright.
With a groan that sounded pitiful even to himself, Rui sat up, blinking away the stars in his vision. “Drink plenty of water, and don’t forget your medicine!!” the Tsukasa in his head told him. Or maybe he had said that right before Rui had passed out again in the morning. Regardless, he reached for the cup on his nightstand and took a sip before getting to his feet.
He vaguely remembered kicking off his slippers in his rush to crawl under the covers, but now they were placed neatly next to the bed. Patterned like a calico cat, to match Tsukasa’s pair of Shiba Inu slippers. They were almost embarrassingly cute, but they made him smile, which is the reason he and Tsukasa had agreed to buy them when they decided to live together. He slid his cold feet into them and shuffled toward the kitchen.
The first thing he noticed was the piece of paper on the counter. In Tsukasa’s large handwriting, it read: I made you fried rice with ham and eggs. It’s in the fridge, so heat it up when you want lunch! Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll either make it or bring some home. See you tonight!
Nearly four years of dating and six months of living together. Somehow, Tsukasa still found brand new ways to bring smiles to Rui’s face. As miserable and cold as he felt, a distinct warmth spread through his chest and his cheeks as he imagined Tsukasa writing the note, a focused frown on his face.
A quick glance told him that the clock hands approached twelve. It felt odd to sleep half the day away, but he told himself it was necessary. The faster he recovered, the sooner he’d be able to return to work. Rui opened the fridge, taking out the meal Tsukasa had made for him and a bottle of ramune. As he let the rice heat up in the microwave, he grabbed his phone to send a message to Tsukasa.
How is rehearsal going? I hope our replacement director is doing well.
Tsukasa must have called for a lunch break. A response came quickly: It’s going well! How are you feeling?
Before Rui could even start typing, his phone began to ring. He chuckled as he sat down, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello, Tsukasa.”
“Rui! Are you feeling any better? Did you eat yet?”
“Ah…I fear I’m not long for this world, Tsukasa,” Rui said, pulling out his most mournful voice. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect with his nose as stuffy as it was. “If only I could see my beloved star’s face one last time before I go…”
“Hm, you must be feeling at least a little better if you can say ridiculous things like that.”
“How hurtful,” Rui said, dropping the tone, “I am still very much sick. But yes, I did manage to gather enough energy to sit down with the food you so lovingly cooked for me.”
“Good! I even left out the vegetables for you.”
Rui hummed. “Of course you did. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to poison a sick man, would you?”
“Not this time,” Tsukasa replied easily. “We’ll see tomorrow.”
Rui let a moment pass as he took a bite, savored the rice as much as he could even with his dulled tastebuds. “It’s good. Thank you, Tsukasa.”
“It’s no problem! Now, I’m sure you’re very curious about how my foray into directing has been going, but I do need to return soon. I’ll tell you all about it when I’m home! Before I go, what do you want for dinner?”
“You.”
“Rui!”
Rui laughed, wishing he could have seen his boyfriend’s face. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“Right!” Tsukasa said, his voice still a bit higher-pitched than normal. “I’ll see you soon! I love you!”
The call ended. Rui missed him already.
The day dragged on after he ate lunch. For an hour or so, he made a valiant effort to sit and work on some notes: inventions he wanted to test on Tsukasa, the plans for his next show, anything. His thoughts felt frustratingly sluggish, however, and the whole thing was starting to give him a headache. Rui set down his notes and moved to the couch, where he started an old recording of a musical he had been meaning to rewatch.
His neck was hurting. When had he closed his eyes? His leaden eyelids were impossible to pry apart. He gave up, instead scooting down to lay down properly on the couch. He could hear the musical still playing, and he had the faint thought that it was right before the climactic scene as his consciousness faded.
“...Rui? Rui! You didn’t text me or answer any of my calls, I was worried something had happened! Are you feeling all right?”
He opened his eyes and saw nothing. No, it was the blue fabric of Tsukasa’s star pillow. He must have twisted around in his sleep. It was amazing how gross a person could feel. His pajamas were clinging to his body, there were dots of drool on the pillow where he’d been smothering his face, his hair was flattened onto his forehead —
Tsukasa’s hands were on his shoulders, steadying him as he pulled himself up. He was wearing his mask, but Rui could imagine those beautiful lips turned downward. That wouldn’t do. “I forgot to message you about dinner before I fell asleep, I apologize for worrying you.”
His boyfriend’s furrowed brows eased up ever so slightly as he placed his hand on Rui’s forehead. He couldn’t help but lean into the cool touch. “Your fever must have broken while you slept. Sorry to wake you up so abruptly, I should have known you would be resting.” Before Rui could deny the need for an apology, Tsukasa lowered his hand to hold one of Rui’s own. “I rushed home from work, so I didn’t have time to grab anything. What would you like me to make for dinner? Name anything, and it’ll be yours!”
Rui wasn’t sure why his chest was aching. It hadn’t been a symptom of his cold so far, and he didn’t feel short of breath. If anything, he felt…almost tingly. How odd.
“Rui? Don’t space out on me now, I do need an answer.”
“Hot pot.”
“...Eh? Hot pot, right now? That’s a bit sudden.”
“You said I could name anything,” Rui pointed out, the slightest hint of a whine slipping into his voice.
Tsukasa sighed. “I suppose I did. Very well! I’ll figure something out!”
Rui trailed after him into the kitchen, pleased. “Don’t forget, I will be watching to make sure you don’t sneak in anything unsavory.”
“Vegetables will make the broth taste better!” Tsukasa argued, but Rui stared him down, his expression surely as grave as he felt inside when he thought about coming into contact with those detested things.
“Surely you would not strive to make me even more sick than I already am.”
“I could remove them before you start eating,” Tsukasa grumbled, but he seemed to acquiesce for now and kept his hands away from the vegetables.
Rui’s phone buzzed from the counter where he had left it earlier. He picked it up to find a couple of texts from the cast. Well-wishes from his actors, it seemed. And…a video? He pressed play and turned the volume up as soon as he realized it was a zoomed in clip of Tsukasa on the stage.
His boyfriend was making a rather exaggerated face, with wide eyes and a crazed smile. His voice was smooth, almost lilting, as he made a suggestion to his fellow lead. A text accompanied the video: I wasn’t expecting a blonde Kamishiro Rui to be our director today. But he doesn’t seem to realize you only make those faces at him!
Hm. He’d have to thank this actor next time he saw him. The video was as enlightening as it was amusing.
“So someone was filming my directing instead of listening closely, hm?”
“I am glad they did,” Rui said, still smiling. “As cute as it is when you do an impression of me, I didn’t think you would keep it going for a whole rehearsal.”
Tsukasa gave him an embarrassed glance before turning back to the ingredients he was preparing. “It’s just because you’re the best director I know.”
…There it was again, the pang in his chest. Seeing Tsukasa make him dinner as he effortlessly stunned Rui once again with his unconditional trust and esteem…
He was happy. He was loved.
“You’ll have to tell me the details of everything you did today so that I know where to pick back up for the next rehearsal. Show me your notes as both a director and an actor. I hope you weren’t neglecting your own role during this rehearsal?”
“Of course I wasn’t!” Tsukasa said, sounding mock offended. “Yes, I’ll show them to you after dinner. Go sit down, I’ll bring the pot over!”
His steps light, Rui made his way over to the dining table. Perhaps it was all the napping he had done, or perhaps it was the sheer brilliance of a star’s presence. Whatever the case, the enervation that had clung to his bones earlier had dissipated entirely. He closed his eyes as he lowered himself into the chair. He could hear Tsukasa’s footsteps in the kitchen, hurried but full of purpose, as he declared that he would make the best hot pot in the world that would cure Rui of all ailments. He really was lucky, wasn’t he?