Just another little one-shot from me as I still await the advent of my new laptop and the encasing of my old hard drive. These one-shots seems to be making a series… so they're not really all that one shot? Anyway.
He jerked awake, breathing hard, eyes stinging, body slick with cold sweat. His throat was choking him as he tried to stifle back everything roiling in him. Still, some tiny, strangle whimpers worked their way out, hanging heavily in the air. Akira hated this... he hated being sick more than anything. A pained noise wrestled out of his chest, louder than the rest, and almost instantly that familiar presence was by him.
He didn't want Shirogane to see. Not this side of himself... this weak, sick, pathetic self. He pulled the covers over his head, hugging himself to try to control his violent shivering and his sobs.
The sheets slid off his hair, and he was face-to-face with Shirogane. Those blue eyes were alight with worry. He huddled down, trying to glare, but it didn't happen... not when he was this distant from himself. He could only quiver, trying to keep himself steady.
"You really are sick, aren't you?"
He couldn't reply - his throat was in knots. Shirogane raised a hand and softly brushed Akira's sweaty bangs out of his face. His touch was wonderfully cold against Akira's flushed skin. He wanted to keep feeling that coolness. Dizzily, he pressed his head against Shirogane's wrist, closing his eyes to revel in the sensation.
"You're burning up... you've quite the fever." His thumb made its way across Akira's cheek, sending a shiver through the boy. He let out a long breath, relaxing under the gentle caress. "You woke up quite suddenly. You had one of those sickness-nightmares, hm?"
Akira didn't know what to do... his trained instincts said to get away from Shirogane's dangerous touch as quickly as possible... but it felt so wonderful. His mind and will were being undermined by his sickness, he supposed. Suddenly, chills over took him, and a slight cry escaped him. Shirogane must have noticed his increase in shaking, because the king drew him close, nestling the boy's damp head under his chin. One strong arm circled his back, holding him and keeping him warm. His other hand stroked through Akira's hair.
Alarms were going off in his head, telling him to get away, but he felt too weak to struggle... and this was too comfortable to want to break free.
"My poor Akira-kun," was the gentle croon. "It's okay."
Akira felt himself weakly clinging to Shirogane. He didn't want the Shin to let go... didn't want to be left alone. He had always had to fight off sickness on his own. His parents were never around, never there to help him. Many a childhood night he had cried out for help in the midst of a terrible flu or fever, but no one ever answered. It had been so frightening, so lonely, to have to deal with it by himself. He didn't mind taking care of himself when he was well, but being sick, to him, was terrifying. So being held and consoled, being cared for like this...
"You can sleep, Akira-kun."
"Shiro... gane..." he managed to choke out in a raspy whisper, though his throat tightened in protest.
"Don't... don't leave." He didn't want to be alone for this. This was far too soothing to want to lose it. "Don't go."
"I won't. I'll be right here."
He was still stroking through Akira's auburn hair. It was so relaxing... Akira felt himself drifting off into warm sleep. Before he entirely let out, though, he willed his body to hold on. He didn't want to be released... he didn't want to release his only source of comfort. He rubbed his face into Shirogane's collarbone and peacefully slipped off.
It might have been that his mind was weakened by the sickness as much as his body was, but if Shirogane was really this gentle, then Akira didn't think he minded being held every now and then.