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Ryoma senses the warm, constant pressure wrapped around his fingers before anything else.
“Ngh…”
He shifts, wincing at the pain that lances through his shoulder, and opens his eyes. But even the candlelight seems to make his head throb,and he squeezes them shut again, groaning.
“Lord Ryoma?”
Through the pulse pounding in his head, Ryoma hears that familiar voice and smiles, breathing out a chuckle. “Saizo,” he says, the name rubbing rough over his throat.
“Thank the gods.” Ryoma’s eyes flutter open again when he feels Saizo squeeze his hand and press his forehead against Ryoma’s knuckles, briefly. “I was so - ” he starts, but then he lifts his head, eyes wide, before clearing his throat and dropping his gaze. “I’m relieved that you’re all right, milord,” he says.
His voice, low and soothing, sounds far too subdued and formal on Ryoma’s ears.
“I...how did I...get here?” Ryoma manages to eke the words out before Saizo presses a wooden cup filled with water to his lips.
“You don’t remember the shuriken?” Saizo asks, careful to give Ryoma the water in careful sips. “You pushed me out of the way - and you - ”
Ah . The memory comes back to him, in bits and pieces - Saizo taking out a berserker, his defenses slipping just enough for a Vallite ninja to toss its shuriken. The poison that burned his blood with every beat of his heart, and Saizo’s widening eye as he collapsed.
“You’re...all right, then,” Ryoma breathes, and somehow finds the strength to smile. “It didn’t hit you.”
“No, and it should have. I - ” Saizo cuts himself off, seeming to realize he’s raising his voice, and takes a few deep breaths. “I apologize for my outburst,” he says at last. “I spoke out of turn.”
“I think if our positions were reversed, I would have done the same,” Ryoma says, attempting to sit up. Saizo pushes him back down, pinning him with a stern glare and a hand on his chest.
“You may have survived thanks to Lady Sakura, but you’re still weak,” Saizo says. “Kagero’s tasked me with making sure you don’t do anything unnecessary until you’re fully healed.”
Ryoma groans, smiling in spite of himself, and lifts his good arm to cover one side of his face. “I can’t do anything without you two giving me leave,” Ryoma says, a chuckle threaded through his words. He’s a little dizzy; his forehead still feels warm to the touch.
“That’s because you don’t have the sense to rest when you need to.” It may be the fever, but Ryoma swears he can hear a thread of exasperation in that voice, a tiny little subconscious rebellion against being prim and proper. Ryoma just smirks up at Saizo, a wordless challenge to that particular accusation.
He imagines he must look more goofy than mischievous, because Saizo’s smiling - not that he can see, of course, but there’s a way that his eyebrows lift and his eye softens that Ryoma senses. “You need to sleep now, Lord Ryoma,” Saizo says, pulling the blankets up to Ryoma’s chest. Their faces are a little closer now.
Saizo’s got really pretty eyes - they’re both pretty, the few times he’s seen them, at least he thinks so. And a pretty smile, from what little he can tell without the mask. And he looks really pretty with that dusting of pink on his cheekbones. Is the tent warm? It feels warm.
Ryoma’s good arm moves before he realizes what he’s doing, his hand cupping the back of Saizo’s head and pulling him down. He presses his smile against Saizo’s forehead, widening it a little so that Saizo can feel it.
Saizo doesn’t move. Ryoma doesn’t even feel him breathe as he pulls back, his fingers teasing Saizo’s scalp. They just watch each other as Ryoma trails his finger down the shell of an ear, down a jaw, fingers grazing over Saizo’s mask.
And then Saizo seems to remember himself again, jolting away. Ryoma expects it’s only his fingers around Saizo’s wrist that keeps the ninja from disappearing completely.
“Saizo, wait, I - ”
“I failed , Lord Ryoma,” Saizo snaps in response, and Ryoma knows his retainer well enough that the anger in that voice isn’t directed at him. “I should have seen it and taken it.”
“Saizo, if you’ll just - ”
Y-you’re not supposed to reward me for failing in my - ”
“ Saizo !”
It’s a little more desperate than the disciplinary bark Ryoma usually gives to Saizo, but it’s still enough to quiet him, enough to coax him back slowly when Ryoma’s thumb catches the edge of his mask and the scarf it holds in place. Ryoma tugs it free, and Saizo doesn’t bother stopping him.
“Saizo,” he says again, setting the mask aside before reaching up to cup Saizo’s cheek, thumb brushing now-bare skin. His voice is soft, perhaps too soft for a High Prince and his retainer. It’s odd how little he cares right now. “Don’t you realize that I would have failed if you died?”
Saizo seems offended by the mere idea of it. “I’m a servant to Hoshido’s Royal Family, Lord Ryoma. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, no matter what the cost.”
“I don’t want you to be my servant, Saizo.”
Ryoma finds himself confused, for a moment, at Saizo’s crumpling face before he rectifies it. “I-I see,” Saizo says. “If you no longer desire my service, I completely understand."
“Sai - no, no you don’t ,” Ryoma says, and defies his leaden bones to sit up and lean in closer. “I want to be able to defend you like you defend me. I want you to be more .”
Saizo’s lips part, both eyes open and wide. No one speaks. Neither of them breathe. Saizo can’t seem to find the words he wants to say, and Ryoma fears for a moment that Saizo’s not sure if he’s sincere.
So Ryoma helps him, cupping the back of his skull again and pulling him in for another kiss, this one on the lips. And when Ryoma’s strength gives out and he collapses back to the mattress, Saizo goes with him, his arms coming up to frame Ryoma’s shoulders as they kiss the breath from each other’s lungs.
“You--mm--you’re far too warm,” Saizo says, and Ryoma thinks he can catch the hint of a smile on that wonderful mouth. “Go to sleep, milord.”
Ryoma smiles - that wide, dopey one again, based on the look Ryoma’s giving him - and thinks that Saizo’s smile is just as lovely as he thought it would be. “Give me a goodnight kiss and I will,” Ryoma says, his voice low and soft as his eyelids grow heavy.
Saizo snorts, grumbling something under his breath as Ryoma shuts his eyes.
But in the end, he gets his kiss.