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scriveynerTitle: the trials and tribulations of looking after a sick masayoshi
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 1957
Summary: Masayoshi had woken too-hot next to him; when Gotou brushed his damp bangs back to rest his forehead against Masayoshi’s it was burning up. “You’re sick,” Gotou said, his voice still morning-rough, and Masayoshi made a noise of assent, and closed his eyes again.
Masayoshi had woken too-hot next to him; when Gotou brushed his damp bangs back to rest his forehead against Masayoshi’s it was burning up. “You’re sick,” Gotou said, his voice still morning-rough, and Masayoshi made a noise of assent, and closed his eyes again. He looked ill - pale against the sheets, a sheen of sweat of his face despite the inactivity - and Gotou cradled his jaw with one hand, brushing his thumb lightly over Masayoshi’s cheek.
It was still strange to have a big bed, to have a different home. The bathroom was further away now, and Gotou hurried through his morning routine to return to the bedroom, where he’d left Masayoshi still tucked in, eyes half-closed and hazy.
Masayoshi was sitting up in bed by the time he returned, his eyes dull, more grey than blue today, and he was staring intently at a spot on the wall beside the door. “We don’t even have a thermometer,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi’s attention swung to him and held, perilously. “What were you looking at?”
“The room was kinda,” Masayoshi raised his hand and wiggled it a little. “Sideways.”
“Lay back down,” Gotou said, and somehow kept the worry out of his voice.
Masayoshi squinted at him. “I have….” He hesitated, had to pull the thought out slowly. “Things, today.”
Gotou put his hands on Masayoshi’s shoulders and pushed him down into the bed - Masayoshi went without much of a fight, eyes half-closed from exhaustion already. “Rest,” Gotou said firmly. “Do not get out of this bed, Masayoshi - I’m going out for medicine, I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou brushed his bangs again and kissed his forehead, too hot and salty with sweat. “L’ve you.”
“Yeah,” Gotou murmured. “Me too, ‘yoshi.”
#
He really hadn’t been gone that long. He’d called Ishihara as soon as the door had closed behind him - her first reaction was concern considering the fact that Masayoshi hadn’t even made it fully upright on his own, and then she muttered about rescheduling and rearranging appointments - but she also offered to stop by and check in on them. The second phone call - in line at the register, with a thermometer and basket full of medicine - was to Nick, to see if he’d be able to cover Gotou’s shift for the day. That would cost him a few weekend shifts later on down the line, but it was better than calling in entirely.
By the time Gotou returned, he’d already managed to lose track of Masayoshi. He wasn’t in bed - though the bed hadn’t been made yet, the covers were kicked all over the place. “Masayoshi?” Gotou called, and headed toward the living room. No Masayoshi there. He stuck his head in Masayoshi’s collection room, dark and quiet that it was - but eventually found Masayoshi sitting in the bathroom, back against the wall and head tipped, back, eyes closed. “What are you doing out of bed?” Gotou asked severely, and Masayoshi squinted an eye open, crusty and tired.
“Had to pee,” he said. “’m gonna be late, Gotou-san-”
“You’re not going anywhere today,” Gotou said severely. He got one arm under Masayoshi’s and helped haul him to his feet - Masayoshi came up in wobbled, and Gotou steered him toward the door. “You are going to lie in bed and feel better.”
“But,” Masayoshi said.
“No arguments, 'yoshi.”
Fortunately, Masayoshi was far too weak to actually argue. He let Gotou tuck him in, and when Gotou took his temperature with the shiny new thermometer he just purchased Gotou ended up frowning at it and taking his temperature a second time, just to be sure.
“What is it?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou put a cool towel on his forehead.
“Just rest,” he said.
#
The day passed quietly as Masayoshi slept through most of the morning, leaving Gotou to his own devices. He sat at the side of the bed for a while, listening to Masayoshi breathe and scrolling through his phone. He cleaned a bit - there were still boxes to unpack, new things that had been bought and not put away, so he kept himself busy, checking in on Masayoshi sporadically.
The slant of sunlight had changed from late morning to early afternoon, a small but perceptible shift, by the time Masayoshi woke. He was sitting up in bed looking bleary but with a little more color to him then he’d had in the morning. “Gotou-san-?” he asked sleepily, as Gotou took his temperature again and monitored him taking pills.
“Shh,” Gotou said. “Are you hungry? I made some soup for lunch.”
“A little bit.” Masayoshi rubbed under his nose and sniffed, he was beginning to sound congested. He looked up at Gotou thoughtfully. “Are you gonna feed me?”
His eyes didn’t look like the bruised storm clouds of the morning. Gotou smiled and put the thermometer away. “Sounds messy,” he said. “I’ll reheat the soup, you - stay put.”
Masayoshi put his hands on his legs, still covered in the sheets. “But it’s boring in here, Gotou-san, can’t I at least watch something in the living room?”
#
Masayoshi held court from a nest of blankets on the couch. Gotou brought him soup on a tray and simply raised an eyebrow when Masayoshi looked at him expectantly, so Masayoshi stuck his tongue out at Gotou and ate the soup himself. “You made this?” he asked, spoon dangling out of his mouth as he looked at the bowl on the tray. “It’s good.”
“I bought it,” Gotou muttered, and smacked Masayoshi’s foot as he walked around the couch. “Soup I’d make would be good too.”
“Next time make me your soup instead,” Masayoshi said, watching as Gotou disappeared into the kitchen, the tips of his ears pink.
#
He fell asleep in the middle of a daytime show - Gotou tugged the blankets up over his shoulders and checked his temperature with the back of his hand - still warm, but not blisteringly hot like it was in the morning. Masayoshi mumbled something and turned a little, so Gotou hesitated - but then Masayoshi said, “no, no, put the waffles in the pillow.”
“Idiot,” Gotou said affectionately.
#
The medicine seemed to be doing its job well. Masayoshi was on his feet by the early evening - although Gotou yelled at him three times and put him back on the couch twice, but every time he turned around Masayoshi was up and into something else. “I feel better,” he complained when Gotou parked him on the couch again with a frown.
“You still have a temperature,” Gotou said. “You’re not better yet.”
Masayoshi made a face at him. Three minutes later he was taking his shirt off and headed to the bathroom. “I’m gonna wash off, I’m gross.”
“Masayoshi!”
He hesitated in the kitchen - just a moment of wobbly, Gotou saw it plain as day - and looked back at him, eyebrow raised. “You gonna get in with me, or just watch?”
#
Gotou caught Masayoshi’s hand by the wrist before it could make its way further south - Masayoshi looked completely unapologetic. “You are sick,” he said firmly.
“You’re soapy and naked,” Masayoshi said. “You can’t blame me.”
Masayoshi was soapy and naked too - and no, he really couldn’t blame him.
#
Gotou had to chase Masayoshi out of the kitchen twice. “Couch! Now!” It was like trying to herd kittens, except there was one of him and after drowsing about for most of the day Masayoshi seemed to have rediscovered his energy. “What if your fever comes back?”
“I’m fine,” Masayoshi said, and stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer over Gotou’s shoulder from back away a bit. “Is that curry? Are you making me curry? I want curry.”
“Couch!” Gotou yelled.
#
Despite Masayoshi’s firm assurances that he was feeling better, he barely ate half the contents of his plate and fell asleep quickly after dinner, half-upright and tucked against the far side of the couch. What cinched it was that he fell asleep during the new episode of Neo Red Axe; Gotou had set the program to tape just in case. He cleaned up their dinner quietly, but Masayoshi didn’t stir - however he didn’t look anything like he did this morning, he was resting a lot more peacefully.
It would be a massive undertaking to wake him and prod him into the bedroom, so Gotou tucked the blankets in around Masayoshi and settled himself on the other end of the couch to watch the end of the episode and the news. He hadn’t even realized how tired he was until he was waking up himself, some late-night program on the television and Masayoshi laying between his legs, head in his lap.
“Wh-,” Gotou struggled to fully awake, feeling very good, crawling pinpricks of pleasure creeping down his spine as he realized exactly what Masayoshi was doing with his mouth. He put his hands in Masayoshi’s hair and tugged, and he lifted his face up, now that he realized Gotou was awake. “What are you doing-?”
“Taking care of you,” Masayoshi said, nuzzling Gotou’s exposed cock and licking his lips, before resuming his attentions on it. Gotou was more than suitably distracted, he couldn’t string the words together to form the argument against this that he had, because Masayoshi’s mouth was on him, hot and enticing and he had barely clawed himself out of the doze he was in before he was tensing up. Masayoshi recognized the signs before he got there and was prepared for it when Gotou came.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Gotou said when he could remember words again. He’d slid a bit down - and Masayoshi had crawled up his body, resting his head on Gotou’s chest. He smiled up at Gotou, face painted sickly by the light of the television, but Gotou could tell by the brightness of his eyes that he was feeling like himself again.
“You took care of me all day, it’s only fair,” Masayoshi said, and tilted his face down into Gotou’s shirt to yawn. “Love you,” he said sleepily. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Okay,” Gotou said, brushing his hand through Masayoshi’s hair. “Let’s.”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 1957
Summary: Masayoshi had woken too-hot next to him; when Gotou brushed his damp bangs back to rest his forehead against Masayoshi’s it was burning up. “You’re sick,” Gotou said, his voice still morning-rough, and Masayoshi made a noise of assent, and closed his eyes again.
Masayoshi had woken too-hot next to him; when Gotou brushed his damp bangs back to rest his forehead against Masayoshi’s it was burning up. “You’re sick,” Gotou said, his voice still morning-rough, and Masayoshi made a noise of assent, and closed his eyes again. He looked ill - pale against the sheets, a sheen of sweat of his face despite the inactivity - and Gotou cradled his jaw with one hand, brushing his thumb lightly over Masayoshi’s cheek.
It was still strange to have a big bed, to have a different home. The bathroom was further away now, and Gotou hurried through his morning routine to return to the bedroom, where he’d left Masayoshi still tucked in, eyes half-closed and hazy.
Masayoshi was sitting up in bed by the time he returned, his eyes dull, more grey than blue today, and he was staring intently at a spot on the wall beside the door. “We don’t even have a thermometer,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi’s attention swung to him and held, perilously. “What were you looking at?”
“The room was kinda,” Masayoshi raised his hand and wiggled it a little. “Sideways.”
“Lay back down,” Gotou said, and somehow kept the worry out of his voice.
Masayoshi squinted at him. “I have….” He hesitated, had to pull the thought out slowly. “Things, today.”
Gotou put his hands on Masayoshi’s shoulders and pushed him down into the bed - Masayoshi went without much of a fight, eyes half-closed from exhaustion already. “Rest,” Gotou said firmly. “Do not get out of this bed, Masayoshi - I’m going out for medicine, I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou brushed his bangs again and kissed his forehead, too hot and salty with sweat. “L’ve you.”
“Yeah,” Gotou murmured. “Me too, ‘yoshi.”
He really hadn’t been gone that long. He’d called Ishihara as soon as the door had closed behind him - her first reaction was concern considering the fact that Masayoshi hadn’t even made it fully upright on his own, and then she muttered about rescheduling and rearranging appointments - but she also offered to stop by and check in on them. The second phone call - in line at the register, with a thermometer and basket full of medicine - was to Nick, to see if he’d be able to cover Gotou’s shift for the day. That would cost him a few weekend shifts later on down the line, but it was better than calling in entirely.
By the time Gotou returned, he’d already managed to lose track of Masayoshi. He wasn’t in bed - though the bed hadn’t been made yet, the covers were kicked all over the place. “Masayoshi?” Gotou called, and headed toward the living room. No Masayoshi there. He stuck his head in Masayoshi’s collection room, dark and quiet that it was - but eventually found Masayoshi sitting in the bathroom, back against the wall and head tipped, back, eyes closed. “What are you doing out of bed?” Gotou asked severely, and Masayoshi squinted an eye open, crusty and tired.
“Had to pee,” he said. “’m gonna be late, Gotou-san-”
“You’re not going anywhere today,” Gotou said severely. He got one arm under Masayoshi’s and helped haul him to his feet - Masayoshi came up in wobbled, and Gotou steered him toward the door. “You are going to lie in bed and feel better.”
“But,” Masayoshi said.
“No arguments, 'yoshi.”
Fortunately, Masayoshi was far too weak to actually argue. He let Gotou tuck him in, and when Gotou took his temperature with the shiny new thermometer he just purchased Gotou ended up frowning at it and taking his temperature a second time, just to be sure.
“What is it?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou put a cool towel on his forehead.
“Just rest,” he said.
The day passed quietly as Masayoshi slept through most of the morning, leaving Gotou to his own devices. He sat at the side of the bed for a while, listening to Masayoshi breathe and scrolling through his phone. He cleaned a bit - there were still boxes to unpack, new things that had been bought and not put away, so he kept himself busy, checking in on Masayoshi sporadically.
The slant of sunlight had changed from late morning to early afternoon, a small but perceptible shift, by the time Masayoshi woke. He was sitting up in bed looking bleary but with a little more color to him then he’d had in the morning. “Gotou-san-?” he asked sleepily, as Gotou took his temperature again and monitored him taking pills.
“Shh,” Gotou said. “Are you hungry? I made some soup for lunch.”
“A little bit.” Masayoshi rubbed under his nose and sniffed, he was beginning to sound congested. He looked up at Gotou thoughtfully. “Are you gonna feed me?”
His eyes didn’t look like the bruised storm clouds of the morning. Gotou smiled and put the thermometer away. “Sounds messy,” he said. “I’ll reheat the soup, you - stay put.”
Masayoshi put his hands on his legs, still covered in the sheets. “But it’s boring in here, Gotou-san, can’t I at least watch something in the living room?”
Masayoshi held court from a nest of blankets on the couch. Gotou brought him soup on a tray and simply raised an eyebrow when Masayoshi looked at him expectantly, so Masayoshi stuck his tongue out at Gotou and ate the soup himself. “You made this?” he asked, spoon dangling out of his mouth as he looked at the bowl on the tray. “It’s good.”
“I bought it,” Gotou muttered, and smacked Masayoshi’s foot as he walked around the couch. “Soup I’d make would be good too.”
“Next time make me your soup instead,” Masayoshi said, watching as Gotou disappeared into the kitchen, the tips of his ears pink.
He fell asleep in the middle of a daytime show - Gotou tugged the blankets up over his shoulders and checked his temperature with the back of his hand - still warm, but not blisteringly hot like it was in the morning. Masayoshi mumbled something and turned a little, so Gotou hesitated - but then Masayoshi said, “no, no, put the waffles in the pillow.”
“Idiot,” Gotou said affectionately.
The medicine seemed to be doing its job well. Masayoshi was on his feet by the early evening - although Gotou yelled at him three times and put him back on the couch twice, but every time he turned around Masayoshi was up and into something else. “I feel better,” he complained when Gotou parked him on the couch again with a frown.
“You still have a temperature,” Gotou said. “You’re not better yet.”
Masayoshi made a face at him. Three minutes later he was taking his shirt off and headed to the bathroom. “I’m gonna wash off, I’m gross.”
“Masayoshi!”
He hesitated in the kitchen - just a moment of wobbly, Gotou saw it plain as day - and looked back at him, eyebrow raised. “You gonna get in with me, or just watch?”
Gotou caught Masayoshi’s hand by the wrist before it could make its way further south - Masayoshi looked completely unapologetic. “You are sick,” he said firmly.
“You’re soapy and naked,” Masayoshi said. “You can’t blame me.”
Masayoshi was soapy and naked too - and no, he really couldn’t blame him.
Gotou had to chase Masayoshi out of the kitchen twice. “Couch! Now!” It was like trying to herd kittens, except there was one of him and after drowsing about for most of the day Masayoshi seemed to have rediscovered his energy. “What if your fever comes back?”
“I’m fine,” Masayoshi said, and stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer over Gotou’s shoulder from back away a bit. “Is that curry? Are you making me curry? I want curry.”
“Couch!” Gotou yelled.
#
Despite Masayoshi’s firm assurances that he was feeling better, he barely ate half the contents of his plate and fell asleep quickly after dinner, half-upright and tucked against the far side of the couch. What cinched it was that he fell asleep during the new episode of Neo Red Axe; Gotou had set the program to tape just in case. He cleaned up their dinner quietly, but Masayoshi didn’t stir - however he didn’t look anything like he did this morning, he was resting a lot more peacefully.
It would be a massive undertaking to wake him and prod him into the bedroom, so Gotou tucked the blankets in around Masayoshi and settled himself on the other end of the couch to watch the end of the episode and the news. He hadn’t even realized how tired he was until he was waking up himself, some late-night program on the television and Masayoshi laying between his legs, head in his lap.
“Wh-,” Gotou struggled to fully awake, feeling very good, crawling pinpricks of pleasure creeping down his spine as he realized exactly what Masayoshi was doing with his mouth. He put his hands in Masayoshi’s hair and tugged, and he lifted his face up, now that he realized Gotou was awake. “What are you doing-?”
“Taking care of you,” Masayoshi said, nuzzling Gotou’s exposed cock and licking his lips, before resuming his attentions on it. Gotou was more than suitably distracted, he couldn’t string the words together to form the argument against this that he had, because Masayoshi’s mouth was on him, hot and enticing and he had barely clawed himself out of the doze he was in before he was tensing up. Masayoshi recognized the signs before he got there and was prepared for it when Gotou came.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Gotou said when he could remember words again. He’d slid a bit down - and Masayoshi had crawled up his body, resting his head on Gotou’s chest. He smiled up at Gotou, face painted sickly by the light of the television, but Gotou could tell by the brightness of his eyes that he was feeling like himself again.
“You took care of me all day, it’s only fair,” Masayoshi said, and tilted his face down into Gotou’s shirt to yawn. “Love you,” he said sleepily. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Okay,” Gotou said, brushing his hand through Masayoshi’s hair. “Let’s.”
