crybabyhero | nightfell ☘ inbox

No.

[But he's reaching for another one anyway because they're probably the only thing Mikey will agree to eat. Hopefully he can keep them down.]

It's gotta be two in the morning, and I'm wearing sandals. Of course I'm cold. [He grumbles as he plops down next to Mikey's blanket cocoon and slides the second dorayaki inside.] Maybe you should thank me by sharing.

...

(it's a moment that he reflects in his bundle of blankets.

and then decides to hop takemichi inside. it's warm, considering mikey's fever, and it should be enough to bring some relief from the cold breeze.

it's different. he's different. he knows it. he's not going to turn around and let takemichi see the consequences of weakness, but he'll tentatively touch, just for a second, before he sighs.)

Thank you.

[Takemichi nearly has a heart attack before he realizes he's not being smothered. He nearly has a second heart attack when it occurs to him that not being smothered means he is now cuddling with Manjiro "Coked Up Crime Boss" Sano.]

Mikey?!

[He yips, rolling over to try and get a proper glimpse. He stops when Mikey's overheated touch sears his chilled skin.

Is he so warm because he's under the blankets or because of the fever?]

I... [Of course, the moment Mikey does what he asks, he freezes up. What is he even supposed to say now?] I didn't think you'd actually do it.

... Don't think about it too hard. And don't question it, ok?

(which is absolutely impossible, he will eventually realize.

without his blanket, there's the substitute, which is the one he's curling and biting for comfort, even if it doesn't properly hit that comfort button as proper as it should, it's something.)

... This place been good to you? You eating well? Sleeping well...?

Shouldn't you be worried about yourself right now? You said it's hitting you so hard you can't even go out.

[As much as Takemichi wants to complain about how terrible this place is and how tired he is of eating scorched fish, right now is obviously not the time. Mikey's probably had enough of it already, what with the soulmate link. He shoves down the urge and instead sets his own hand on Mikey's.

It really is warm. It's not just the warmth of the blanket, he concludes. Mikey's fever is way higher than he'd thought.]

...You really think it's hanahaki?

It's not what I asked.

(what a moment of stupid fucking weakness. takemichi probably can feel what he feels, a desire for touch, and an internal fight as to why he can't have it. but fuck, he's so cold, and takemichi is warm - he convinces himself that this is solely out of a health benefit, not because he really just misses the proximity.

so, he turns around. he still won't let takemichi see his face, as he hides it immediately against the other's chest, an arm wrapping around him loosely.)

I think it is, yeah.

Well, I dunno know how to answer. [He huffs, but there's no bite in it. As frustrating as it all is, he's resigned to his fate.] I've already broken outta prison twice, and I've only been dead a few weeks. So no, I...

[His breath hitches as Mikey's fevered forehead presses into his shirt, and his brain blue screens for thirty damn seconds. Scattered half-thoughts trip over themselves to be the first to jumpstart his head again, but before he can comprehend any of them, he's already wrapping Mikey in a hug.

This was all he'd wanted to do when he'd last reunited with this version of Mikey. Hug him, thank him, and invite him to his wedding. There won't be a wedding this time, but... Two out of three isn't a bad score for him.]

I... But I'm not alone, so I've seen worse futures, I guess.

... I'm sorry, Takemitchy.

(for whatever way the other might want to take it. sorry for the murder? sorry he's here? sorry he's having a bad time? sorry mikey forced them to soulmate, so now he gets a very unkind glimpse of the dark impulses? there are many things to apologize for.

and it's for that that he is snuggling against the boy's chest. it's a greater apology.)

If you're that sorry, then get better quick, okay? I'll help as much as I can.

[A part of him is scared of that apology, scared of the unspoken crime Mikey might be referring to. Another part of him feels he doesn't deserve an apology at all. Mostly though, he's just relieved, relieved that in this moment he doesn't have to be tired and lonely and helpless.]

Just don't throw any of the fish I cook you back in my face, no matter how bad it tastes.

... I won't. I can't cook, you know. I'm not in a position to judge.

(there's even a little squeeze to the boy's waist, a sigh against his chest, and he closes his eyes, letting his hand gently caress the other's back. this is ridiculous. what a bad fucking idea.)

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