Work Text:
Ever since Keicho died, Okuyasu had absolutely hated being taken care of. He was all grown now, after all, left to run the house and take care of his dad by himself. Whenever Miss Tomoko or a teacher treated him like the teenager he truly was underneath the situation he’d been forced into, Okuyasu felt slightly condescended to. After all, his past had plunged him into adulthood without his consent… even when he acted like a kid, it sucked to be treated as one.
Perhaps that was why he was so insistent that Josuke didn’t come and check on him now that he’d gotten the flu. There was something so embarrassing about having his best friend – his strong, undeniably cool, absolutely gorgeous best friend – see him in this position of weakness. Despite Okuyasu’s I’m-sorry-I-can’t-come-over-today phone call laced with numerous warnings not to visit him, there was a part of Okuyasu that simply knew that his best friend would be dropping by at some point.
Simply put, there was nobody in the world more nurturing than Josuke Higashikata; even his goddamn stand was built to help people. It was that innate goodness that Okuyasu had fallen in love with (despite being unable to admit it aloud), so perhaps that’s why he was able to forgive his friend when he barged into Okuyasu’s crumbling old house without knocking.
“Okuyasu! It’s me!” The stairs creaked as Josuke made his way up to the second floor. He was looking as beautiful as ever when he arrived in the bedroom, wearing his signature pomp along with jeans and a yellow t-shirt (probably designer). Honestly, though, Josuke would be beautiful in anything. “You look like a wreck, man.”
And Okuyasu did. Wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets in his underwear, Okuyasu was a sweaty, sickly mess with clammy skin and unkempt hair smooshed against his pillow. The lack of working heat in the Nijmura house wasn’t helping matters, and even under his comforter Okuyasu was shivering. “Hmmph, I told y’not to come over, asshole.”
“Duuude, I was worried about you! I wanted to come make sure you’re ok. I even brought hot soup.” He held up some very full Tupperware with a grin. “I had my mom make it!”
Fuck, that was so cute. “Thanks, Josuke. I mean it.” He set a few pillows against his headboard and sat up straight, happy that Joseph Joestar had bought him an actual bed when he was last in town. With this sleeping arrangement, Okuyasu would never go back to a mattress on the floor.
Josuke, perched on the side of the bed, pulled a spoon, some napkins, and a Calpis water (Okuyasu’s favorite drink) from a plastic grocery bag. He giggled lightly. “I’m gonna feed you like a baby.”
“No! I’m not a baby, man!”
Josuke got a spoonful of soup and, finding it had an insufficient number of noodles, rescooped. “Today you are!”
Okuyasu didn’t resist when Josuke fed him a spoonful of soup by hand. It felt nice, even, to be treated so tenderly. After a few more spoonfuls, however, he was able to wrest away the eating utensils and eat for himself… otherwise it’d take all day to get through lunch.
Once the chicken soup, warm and satisfying as Miss Tomoko’s food always seemed to be, was in his belly, Okuyasu slumped back into his pillows. He was a bit surprised when, after setting aside the emptied Tupperware, Josuke gently set a hand on Okuyasu’s sweat-soaked forehead. The touch was warm, soft, and definitely not unwanted.
“You’re burning up, Oku. Aren’t you hot under there?”
“No… I’m really cold, actually. Don’t y’see me shaking?”
“True, you really are shivering.” Josuke’s hand had strayed down to Okuyasu’s cheek and didn’t leave. With tiny, minute movements, a thumb stroked his sticky skin there.
“Y’know, Josuke, you don’t gotta stay here. I can take care of myself.”
The smile Josuke offered in return was tiny but sincere. “I’d rather worry about you here than at my place. I’m gonna stick around.”
Okuyasu’s chest tightened. Nobody had cared so deeply for him like this since Keicho. If he were a braver man and also wasn’t contagious, Okuyasu would have kissed his best friend right then. Too bad he didn’t even have the guts to confess. Who would want a dumb as a rock, scarred-up, socially awkward guy like him anyway?
“Imma stay a bit longer. Okuyasu, can I… oh, fuck, this is stupid, but can I lay with you?
“What? Why?” Okuyasu’s eyes broadening with surprise, he was overwhelmed by the proposal. They’d certainly gotten closer, cuddlier even, ever since Kira, but this seemed so forward. Not that he disliked it, however.
“You seem really cold and sick and I dunno, I guess, I just wanna be there? Like, for you.” He nervously toyed with the loose hairs at the back of his neck. It was adorable when Josuke did that. Okuyasu tried not to read too much into the situation, though. Otherwise he’d get his hopes up.
“Ok, but I’m in my underwear and a shirt…”
“It’s not like we haven’t seen each other change, dude. But if you’re cold, why not pants?”
“Too weak and lazy to put them on, haha.”
“Oh, Okuyasu.” Josuke snuck under the covers and lay on his side, facing his friend. With a grunt from the effort, Okuyasu turned to face Josuke as well.
Although Okuyasu and Josuke were used to touching a lot, there was something different about the way they held each other this time. Perhaps it was the context of laying in the bed, perhaps the fact that Okuyasu was sick, perhaps how tightly they hugged. No matter what it was, Josuke felt his face burn up as Josuke wrapped his arms around Okuyasu and clung to him tightly. His friend’s body heat was so comforting, so needed right now. Being taken care of wasn’t so bad if this came along with it.
“I could fall asleep like this,” Okuyasu couldn’t resist commenting.
“Go ahead, Oku,” Josuke responded. “Here, this’ll be even better.” He flipped onto his back and guided Okuyasu’s body to lie atop him, using Josuke’s wide chest as a pillow.
Okuyasu closed his eyes. Maybe he would never confess, but at least he’d always have this moment. As he savored the warmth of Josuke’s body against his and relaxed, a hand began to play with his hair. Okuyasu closed his eyes and snuggled closer against his blankets, drifting off more quickly than he’d anticipated. The last thing he could remember before falling asleep atop his best friend was the slight pressure of a kiss against the top of his head, followed by a whisper of “I love you” that was so faint, he could have sworn he’d imagined it.