Disclaimer: See previous chapter.

Author's Note I: Here's the second chapter. I'm sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes, English is still not my native tongue and I still don't have a beta.

Feverish

Chapter Two: Talking

Misaki stirred in his sleep, frowning. His breathing became heavy and he coughed violently, the shake of his lungs causing him to wake up. He tried to breathe in deeply in order to calm down, but it didn't help. He felt the dinner he ate a few hours before going up his esophagus, and with no time to think he crawled to the side of the bed and threw up on the floor, his fever dizzying him. His hands searched around him for the familiar warmth of Usagi-san, but met only with a cold wall on one side and stuffed air on the other. He started choking on words he tried to say, whatever sounds that did manage to leave his mouth sounding incoherent and jumbled.

He heard muffled sounds around him and panicked. What was going on? Why wasn't Usagi-san there?

He thrashed around violently and stopped abruptly once a sharp pain shot up from his leg and he yelped. Someone held his shoulders in a death grip. Misaki tried to shake them off, but failed. More muffled talking sounded around him, and he felt something wet and hot slide down his cheeks. He started wheezing, still trying to fight against whoever held him while trying to ignore the pain in his left leg. What was going on?

Something metallic and cold came in touch with his lips, and Misaki shut them tight, refusing to allow whoever attacked him any access to his insides. He turned his head to the right and then to the left, the metallic thing following his movements. In an act of desperation he lifted his hand and smacked it away, his movement jerky. He was relieved when he heard the metallic object clatter on the floor. His relief was only momentarily, though, because moments later somebody forced his mouth open, long fingers pressing against his chin, and a short second later he felt warm lips on his own. His hand shot up automatically and his fingers came in contact with a broad shoulder. He sighed into the mouth that met his own, his eyes closing and his fingernails digging into the skin of his kisser.

Usagi-san…

A bitter liquid followed, and he swallowed by instinct, the lips leaving him once there was no drop left.

There were some more muffled talking around him, and through his panicked breaths and clammy skin Misaki could feel a big hand running through his hair. He calmed down slowly, his eyes opening. The room was too dark and his eyes were too unfocused for him to see anything. He tried to say something, to tell Usagi-san to stay by his side, but his words sounded foreign even to his own ears. He sighed heavily, his head sinking deeper into the pillow as his eyes closed, and soon he was engulfed by dreams again.

"-there was nothing else I could do, I couldn't just leave him there…"

"He has a home, why did you bring him here?"

"He's home alone, Hiro-san, you saw for yourself how he acted last night, just imagine what would have happened if we weren't there!"

Misaki's eyes opened slowly, his brain registering the conversation that was going on in another room. He blinked slowly, taking a moment to remember his position. His mouth felt bitter and dry, his sheets were crumpled beneath him, and his head pounded as if he emptied two bottles of strong liquor just the day before. He groaned.

"Don't even mention last night."

"Hiro-san! I had no choice!"

"You could have called an ambulance!"

"The paramedics would have done the same! I'm perfectly capable of handling the situation myself, you saw it with your own eyes!"

Misaki could feel a dull pain in his leg. He touched the sore spot, and was surprised to see it was no longer bandaged. A quick look around told him it didn't come off in his sleep, as the white material wasn't in his bed or on the floor.

"How long?"

"Until he gets better, I already told you that…"

A short silence followed. Misaki recognized one of the voices as Kusama-san's, and only then did he realize that they were talking about him.

"Hiro-san, if you're worried that because he's here we won't be able to have s-"

"Shut up! It's not what I'm worried about! I just don't like strangers in my house."

"Please, have a little compassion, Hiro-san. He's very sick…"

"Whatever, I'm going to see if there's anything valuable in that room that I should hide."

"Hiro-san!"

Misaki heard a chair being pulled backwards, wooden legs scraping against the floor. Then he heard footsteps approaching, and soon enough the door to his temporary room opened. Misaki blushed slightly and looked away in shame, knowing what the man came for.

"Good morning, kid," the man said, though to Misaki's ears it sounded more like a grunt.

"Ah!" A cheerful voice said from the door. Misaki looked up and was relieved to see Kusama-san standing there, a smile adorning his face. "I see you're awake. How are you feeling today?" Misaki nodded slowly, not sure how he was supposed to reply. Kusama-san came to his side and felt his forehead. "Still high, but less then last night," he commented, his hand moving to caress stray strands of hair on Misaki'is sweaty forehead.

A cough sounded from the direction of the drawers, and the hand left. "I'm sorry," Kusama-san said. Misaki wasn't sure who he was referring to. "There's a pill I want you to take, alright? It'll help your fever."

Misaki nodded again. "M-my leg…" he said quietly, still refusing to look directly at the black-haired man.

Kusama-san blinked at him. "Your leg? Does it hurt?"

Misaki shifted uncomfortably under the foreign gaze. "No, I mean… less but… where's the bandage?"

"Ah, I removed it last night. You were hurting so bad, I figured I should probably relieve the pressure."

"Hey, kid," both men turned to look at the man near the drawers. "There are some very valuable books here, I don't want you near them."

Kusama-san frowned. "Hiro-san, stop that. And don't call him 'kid' either, I'm sure he has a name-" then his blue eyes widened in realization, and he looked down at Misaki, his smile shy and embarrassed. "Oh, I am so deeply sorry. I forgot to ask for your name?"

"It's Misaki. Takahashi Misaki," he replied, finding the smile contagious.

"Misaki-kun, you seem young. Are you a student?" Kusama-san asked him, smiling gently.

"Yeah, an Economics student…"

"Really? That's sounds great, in which university?"

"Mi-Mitsuhashi…"

Kusama-san's eyes brightened, and from the corner of his eye Misaki could see the other man in the room stiffen. "Mitsuhashi!" Kusama-san exclaimed, sounding proud. "That's where Hiro-san teaches, but he's in the Literature department… oh, I'm sorry, I'm being rude again. This man here, he's Kamijou Hiroki-," Misaki's eyes widened, "-we live together and we're-"

"Nowaki!" Hiroki reprimanded, his back still turned to them.

Nowaki blushed. "Right, right, I'm sorry… would you like something to eat, Misaki-kun?"

Misaki shook his head. "No, I'm fine." The words were forced out of him as the realization hit him. He was in the same room with that wretched teacher, Kamijou-the-devil, the same man who was responsible for many blue marks on his forehead.

Kusama-san frowned at him. "Oh, I insist. I'll make something light, I'll be right back." He turned on his heels and left.

Kamijou-sensei was still in the room, checking the drawers, and Misaki could feel his discomfort growing. "Did you ever take any course in the Literature department, Takahashi-kun?" Misaki jumped slightly, startled, as he figured the man would not initiate a conversation with him. Kmaijou-sensei turned to look at him, frowning deeply.

"Uh, yeah… your course, actually..." to this day he had no idea why he chose it. But in his attempt to get closer to Usagi-san he failed to ask his fellow classmates about recommended teachers.

"Well then," Kamijou-san said, his tone concluding, balancing some of his belongings in his hands. "Hopefully that was the first and last time." He turned around and left.

Misaki looked down at his hands sadly, wondering what he did wrong. All of the people he met seemed to dislike him, and those that did like him only acted so because they were somehow after Usagi-san. Misaki sighed heavily as he thought about his landlord. Only now, when he was in some strange place did he really start to miss the man. He wished he could contact him somehow… Usagi-san will probably try to call him soon, and when there will be no answer he’ll come rushing back home to look for him.

Misaki only hoped the author was too busy promoting his book that calling him was the last thing on his mind.

Before he could dwell more on the subject Kusama-san entered to room, smiling widely, carrying a tray in his hands. "There you go, Misaki-kun. I made you some porridge, please eat it so you'll regain your strength. There's a pill for you to swallow once you finish, too." Kusama-san put the tray on the small counter next to his bed. "I'm going to the supermarket now, but Hiro-san is still here. I know he seems unkind, but he's a good person. Please tell him if there's anything wrong, and he'll contact me immediately, alright?" Misaki nodded, figuring there wasn't much else he could do. Kusama-san smiled kindly at him, patted his head, and left.

Those hands… they felt like Usagi-san's. Misaki held his face, breathing in shakily. The porridge's scent wafted to his nose and his stomach reminded him he had nothing to eat for long time. He took the porridge and started eating it slowly, thinking that at least Kusama-san's cooking skills were good. Indeed, if it were Usagi-san, Misaki would probably end up sicker.

Misaki woke up later that day. The clock on the wall told him it was late afternoon, and he watched with tired eyes as the rays of the setting sun danced on the wall. The house was quiet, and Misaki wondered if perhaps the two men left for work. He wondered briefly if they were brothers, refusing to think they were lovers. No, there's no way would he acknowledge the fact that all the people he met were homosexuals. His bladder told him it needed release. Misaki sighed, sat up slowly and put his feet on the cold floor. He stood up slowly, balancing himself on his right foot, and jumped towards the exit, noticing that his leg had been bandaged once again.

The house was big, he concluded. In his hurried search he found a work room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The toilet came last.

When Misaki stepped out he felt drained. His fever weakened him, and the jumping didn't help. He sat on the couch in the living room, his head resting against the warm cushions. He barely had any strength left to lift himself up and jump to the guestroom he'd been offered. His green eyes noticed the huge bookshelf next to him, which was loaded with books. He gaped, realizing there were probably ten times more books than in their house.

Then he saw them. On the upper shelves, books by Usami Akihiko, three copies of each title. He frowned deeply, hoping Kusama-san didn't know he was living with the man and only took care of him as means to get closer to his landlord.

The sun set completely, leaving him in the dark. His eyes drooped as he neared sleep when suddenly the front door opened and a florescent light illuminated the room. Green eyes met frowning brown, and Misaki blushed.

Hiroki huffed, took down his scarf and threw it on a chair. "How are you feeling, Takahashi-kun?" he asked.

"Ah, good, thank you," he replied.

Kamijou-sensei looked suspiciously at him. "You look feverish to me. When was the last time you took your medicine?"

"In the morning…" came the weak answer.

"Then you should take it again. I think Nowaki left it around here somewhere…"

Misaki sat in silence as he watched the other man searching through the many cupboards in the kitchen, wondering if he had a change of heart. Otherwise, why would Kamijou-the-Devil be nice to him? "Nowaki won't be back by tomorrow, so you're stuck with me until then," the man said, and Misaki found it hard to tell if he was talking to him or just in general.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a burden…" Misaki said slowly, looking down at his feet. Kamijou-sensei didn't reply, and Misaki shifted in his seat in discomfort.

"Here," Misaki looked up and saw a hand with a pack of pills being handed to him. He took it in silence. "I'm afraid I'm not a good cook like Nowaki, but please bear with me. Would you like anything in particular?" he asked as he walked back to the kitchen.

"No…"

"Do you want me to help you get back to bed?"

Misaki shook his head and could feel the man frowning from behind him. "Alright then…" he said quietly. "Oh, right, I forgot. Nowaki told me to ask you if you have anywhere you need us to call, like a workplace or something…"

Misaki's eyes widened. "Oh, yeah, the coffee-shop where I work… I probably need to call in sick." A portable phone was handed to him quickly.

"What about your family?" Kamijou-sensei asked, looking at him quizzically.

Misaki sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I can't recall any number… do you have a charger for Sharp, by any chance?"

Kamijou-sensei nodded. "Yeah, do you need one?"

Misaki brightened. "Yes, please! My battery died and I…"

Kmaijou-sensei nodded, disappeared for a short moment and then reappeared with the requested item. Misaki took it gratefully. "You need your cell too, don't you?" Misaki blushed in realization. The man sighed and went to the guestroom, returning only seconds later. Misaki thanked him quickly, plugged in the charger and felt a wave of relief washing over him as his phone came back to life. A few text messages from his friends, wondering how he was feeling, a message from Aikawa-san, some kind of complaint, a message from a co-worker…

He called the coffee-shop first, apologizing repetitively as the sounds of dinner being prepared sounded in the background. His boss told him to feel better, but warned he's not responsible for anything if it'd take more than a week.

Now… for the most awaited call.

Misaki felt his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for his landlord to pick up. He was about to hang up at some point when the deep, familiar voice boomed from the other side. "Misaki!" he said.

"Usagi-san," Misaki said back, feeling tears in his eyes just at the sound of the voice. He was already so engrossed in the conversation he didn't hear a glass from behind him falling down and breaking. "How are you?"

"I love you," was the reply.

Misaki blushed deeply. "That wasn't my question…"

"I don't care. How are you feeling? You sound a bit hoarse…"

Misaki wanted to tell him he was sick, wanted to say his leg hurt like hell and that he was in some strange house with another Usami-fan, but for some reason all he managed to say was "oh, yeah, I went to a karaoke with some friends last night…" he trailed off as he realized he was lying.

"I miss you."

"Don't worry, Usagi-san, it's just a few more weeks, I'm doing fine, really…"

"I wish you were here, then we could do things like-"

Misaki's blush deepened. "Usagi-san!" Some yelling sounded in the background.

"Ah, I'm sorry Misaki, I have to go, some stupid interview is supposed to start. I'll call you later."

Misaki nodded, even though he knew his landlord could not see. "Yeah, sure…"

One last 'I love you' was uttered quickly before the line was cut. Misaki pressed the 'end' button and stared at his phone which displayed the length of the conversation. He sighed deeply. He would never admit it, but he didn't want it to ever end. He never thought he'd miss Usagi-san so much.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized someone had been staring at him for a long time. He turned his head slowly and saw Kamijou-snsei looking at him, his eyes wide, holding a spoon in his right hand and ignoring an overflowing pot on the stove.

Misaki paled.

"You…" Kamijou-sensei started, his voice weak. "Usagi-san…" he chuckled. "There's only one person in the entire world I know by that name…" he shook his head, as if disbelieving. "And there's only one person… of course..." Kamijou-sensei held his head in his left hand, shaking. "Takahashi Misaki." Kamijou-sensei looked up again, an emotion Misaki could not identify flashing momentarily through his brown eyes. "I don't know why I didn't see the connection before," he said, his voice low. "You're Takahiro's brother."

To Be Continued…

Author's Note II: I hope it didn't suck too much. Please leave a review if you like this story!

By the way, it won't stay Misaki's POV forever...