A/n: No excuse for this. Just good old fashioned manporn.
Arching his back and placing one hand on his hip he half cringed at the cracking sound of his aching joints before going back to sweeping the floor.
"Something wrong, Watanuki?" Yuko asked coolly, from her usual spot sprawled out on the loveseat or therapy chair as Watanuki often viewed it. He could see himself ending up in therapy someday… someday real soon.
"Just a little sore." He muttered, and looked away under her malicious grin. Ever since he and Doumeki had moved in together just a few short weeks ago Yuko's innuendo levels had fallen, only to be replaced by outright outrageous comments on their sex-life whenever possible. "No it's NOT that." He said hurriedly.
"If you say so, I really should have words with that boy about being so rough with my little maid." She mewled, stretching her alabaster legs over the red satin of the chair.
"I SAID IT'S NOT THAT!" He roared flailing his arms in a way he shouldn't have done, his tense muscles cried out in complaint.
"I slept on the floor last night is all." He mumbled, propping the broom against the wall having grown tired of bending, and grabbing a cloth, beginning to dust around the lazy witch.
"Trouble in paradise already? My oh my Watanuki." She clicked her fingers and Maru and Moro came running up with large fans with which to cool their mistress while Watanuki's cheeks were flushed with heat.
"No there is NOT trouble in paradise, not that living with that ridiculous lump of living flesh I call my boyfriend is paradise anyway. Far from it!" Watanuki fumed, though everyone had long since come to accept the insults he threw at or about Doumeki were less threats than terms of endearment.
"Then the problem…" She drawled.
"He's SICK okay. He didn't listen to me about not following up on that stupid poltergeist, ended up coming home SOAKING wet, and then he got sick. So it's his own damn fault, and damned if I'm sharing so much as a pillow with a sick person!"
"Doumeki is ill!" Moro whispered to her companion in a gossipy manner.
"Watanuki let Doumeki get sick!" Maru whispered back in equal tone. Yuko chuckled softly and tucked her knuckles under her chin as though thinking.
"Well, they say the best healer is…"
"DAMNIT YUKO-SAN IF YOU GIVE ME ONE MORE LECTURE ON RELAXING THE BACK OF MY THROAT SO HELP ME HITSUZEN I WILL STRANGLE MYSELF WITH THIS DISHCLOTH!" He raised the duster threateningly, for there was only so much he was willing to discuss with the slightly maternal, incredibly nosy figure of Yuko and she just smiled.
"Of course not." She simpered, rolling over a little onto her stomach, her breasts threatening to spill out of her sinfully low dipping dress. "But sexual tension doesn't improve recovery time at all."
"Yuko-san!" Watanuki covered both his eyes with his hands and the dusty dishcloth. Now he was most CERTAINLY not going near that cretin, it was weird enough that Yuko knew they kissed nevermind pinpointing whenever they had sex.
"Sake!" Ordered Yuko.
"Sake!" Chanted Moro
"Sake!" Sang Maru.
"And one for me!" Mokona said, bounding onto Watanuki's shoulder, causing him to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the floor.
"Stupid Yuko-san, stupid girls, stupid Mokona." Watanuki mumbled that night as he fumbled with his keys. After a rousing game of 'insult Watanuki's masculinity' the night had ended with a very drunken Yuko and Mokona encouraging the girls to sing a lyrically butchered version of 'Give and Take' with words Watanuki wasn't even sure he knew the meaning of. Words little girls should most certainly not know. "Oi, moron… I'm home."
The apartment was quiet. Far too quiet for his own liking. For all Doumeki was silent in most of his endeavours, the general presence of the archer dulled the lonely hush of solitude Watanuki had become accustomed to living on his own.
"You better not still be in bed you lazy son of a…" Pushing the door open Watanuki couldn't help but feel sorry for Doumeki. Face slick with sweat and his usually perfectly messy hair stuck at odd angles and clinging to his face, his eyes were swollen and puffy and his skin was almost the colour of Watanuki's, a vast plummet down the spectrum, paler than usual.
"Hey." Doumeki muttered in response.
"Idiot… I'm not coming in. And it's not good for you to just sit around all day you should at least TRY to do something… I'm going to make leek soup, and I expect you to eat it in the kitchen like a civilized idiot, got it?" Doumeki just blinked back and Watanuki suspected he was barely conscious.
Sighing Watanuki disappeared into the kitchen to make chicken soup, he had thoroughly expected Doumeki to counter his suggestion as Doumeki preferred chicken soup, but the moron really was sick. He carefully applied a white-cloth face mask before daring to enter the bedroom.
"Try infect me with your germs now!" He cackled, sitting beside the bed and placing the tray on Doumeki's lap. One of his arms lazily reached for the spoon, and Watanuki heard the archer's breath become laboured as though that simple movement was effort enough to exhaust him.
"S'chicken." Doumeki mumbled eventually, having finally tasted the soup.
"Yes I'm aware of that." Watanuki sighed and placed his hand against Doumeki's forehead. "Your fever's breaking…" There was as slight a concern in his voice as one is obligated to when their boyfriend is ill, but other than that Watanuki still stood firm on the 'you got yourself sick, you deserve it' stand.
"Mm." Doumeki managed, which could have been a display of gratitude for the food, a vague acknowledgement at Watanuki's comment, or something entirely different. Doumeki's voice was appallingly hoarse and it looked to be draining his energy to try speaking and eating at the same time. Reluctantly Watanuki began feeding his bedridden lover.
"Why'd you turn the fan off?" Watanuki scowled and turned the motor-fan back on. Doumeki's weakened body shivered in complaint, as the sweat hastily cooled on his skin.
"Didn't. Mugetsu did."
"I'll… have words with him." Since the two had moved in together Mugetsu had issued several thinly veiled attempts on Doumeki's life whenever he had stepped within so much of a foot of Watanuki's person. However, peeking up over the rim of the desk right now, the pipe fox looked as innocent as could be. Watanuki stamped his foot on the floor and even from 6 feet away the creature knew it was in trouble and fled the room as fast as it's side winding body would allow it.
"C'mere." Doumeki muttered when three quarters of his soup had been swallowed and he felt he could eat no more. You knew Doumeki was sick when his appetite was diminished. Watanuki leaned closer and Doumeki reached up to remove his mask.
Watanuki flung himself backwards on his chair, ending up with his heels above his head and his rear in the air. He hurriedly righted himself.
"I am NOT under ANY circumstances kissing a sick person!" He squawked. Doumeki, practically exhausted himself setting his tray on the counter.
"Who said we were kissing?"
"Oh and you just randomly take my mask off for nothing, I'll tell you this Doumeki Shizuka I am NOT breathing your… sick people germs!" Swore the bespectacled teenager, standing himself up and setting his chair back where it had been. Doumeki sighed and closed his eyes in defeat, laying back into the propped up pillows soaked with sweat, for he was not up to arguing today. Then Watanuki cringed. Guilt hit him pretty hard.
Even though he'd gotten sick defying his orders: fact was he was sick. The usually strong guy reduced to the aptitude of a newborn kitten, unable to even defend himself against the usual onslaught, and being blue-balled to boot. Rough week.
"When you get better… I'll make it up to you." He promised sighing and sitting on the edge of the bed, absently toying with Doumeki's drying hair, cold to the touch under the blow of the fan. "But until then you're getting nothing, if I get sick now Yuko-san will be MERCILESS in her ridicule. That woman exists just to…" Doumeki tugged Watanuki down beside him, in a half hug.
It was then Watanuki realised the extent of Doumeki's fever. Not only was his head hot, but his entire body felt like a radiator, and he was still in his night robe.
"Moron! Are you trying to die of dehydration, you better have been drinking while I was out!" Watanuki scolded, undoing his lover's robe and pushing it off his shoulders. Doumeki didn't even try to move, frustrating Watanuki moreso. "What are you a deadweight, help would be appreciated," Doumeki absently shrugged a little and the robe slid off, slinking down onto the floor leaving the archer in only his boxers.
"Still hot." Doumeki hissed closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. His entire body was pale, wet and aching, the few areas such as his hands and legs below the knees that had been exposed were cold and clammy, while the rest of him burned.
"Idiot…" Watanuki whispered softly. "I'll go get you a drink."
"Stay." Doumeki said.
And it was such a simple command. Watanuki sighed.
"If I get sick." He said softly, sliding down a little to lay comfortable beside his protector. "I'm blaming you." Doumeki pulled him a little closer, which proved to be awkward. Usually one of the most comfortable places Watanuki knew was cuddled against Doumeki's chest, but now it rose with ragged and unsteady breath, the occasional cough jarring his head, and the dampness caused Watanuki's usually unruly hair to cling to Doumeki's ribs. Doumeki put a lot of extenuating effort into leaning forward and kissing Watanuki on the forehead. "You are making the situation worse." Watanuki scolded him.
"You might not care I'M the one who has to mother you when you're ill!" Watanuki sighed and pushed Doumeki backwards into a full laying down position, he kneeled and carefully adjusted the pillows so Doumeki was completely on his back. "Now stay!" He encouraged, as one may do a disobedient puppy.
Doumeki raised his hand and tugged at Watanuki's mask again.
"I TOLD you I'm not getting myself…" The mask was off, Doumeki holding the thin white cloth in an exhausted triumph.
"You're not dead." He stated plainly. Watanuki scowled and covered his mouth and nose with his hands emitting a muffled:
"If you weren't sick I'd kill you." Doumeki tugged Watanuki down once again so the boy landed haphazardly ontop of him Watanuki's hands flung out to the pillow either side of Doumeki's head in order to support himself. Then the scarcely dressed exorcist kissed him somewhat chastely on the lips. Watanuki shivered as Doumeki's sweaty palm cupped his face, he allowed his own hands to rest on Doumeki's shoulders to assume a more comfortable position. Doumeki's tongue slid gently over the abstaining lips of his lover and Watanuki opened his mouth ever so slightly before yanking himself back in horror.
"There, now you've been exposed to it, if you're…" Doumeki broke off to cough into his fist. "Going to catch it, you've caught it."
"Bastard!" Doumeki's ears were saved the verbal onslaught that sometimes accompanied reckless moves such as that by the bedside phone ringing. Watanuki sighed and sat back a little so he was inadvertently straddling Doumeki and picked it up.
"Hello." He growled, aware he sounded somewhat hostile.
"Just calling to check on Doumeki-kun." Himawari's cheerful voice rang through. There had been a time Watanuki's virgin heart would have fluttered under her tone, now he only sighed in irritation, it was hard to stay mad at Doumeki when Himawari was so concerned.
"He's sick, and it serves him right!" He growled, wiping his own mouth free of any icky Doumeki germs.
"Poor thing." She cooed. "I do hope you're taking care of him… you know they say the best healer is…"
"IF ONE MORE PERSON TELLS ME TO HAVE SEX WITH THIS DISEASED DEVIANT TO MAKE HIM WELL AGAIN I SWEAR I'LL EUNUCHATE HIM MYSELF!" Watanuki fumed.
"Oh." Himawari whispered softly. "I was going to suggest chicken soup." Watanuki's face turned scarlet, and Doumeki, still pleasantly trapped under his weight thought dazedly that he looked somewhat amusing when flustered, not that this was a new revelation.
"Ch… chicken soup o…of course." He stuttered embarrassedly. "I'll make sure to tell him to eat that… g… goodbye Himawari-chan." Doumeki gave a lazy smirk as the mortified boy hung up.
"I like your soup, but I like the first idea better." Doumeki mumbled.
"YOU can barely sit up, even if I were so inclined as to sexual healing: WHICH I'M NOT by the way, I somehow highly doubt you're… up to copulation." Watanuki made a very vague uncurling and straightening motion with his index finger and a person other than Doumeki may have felt insulted at the implication his apparatus was not working right given his physical condition. Doumeki being Doumeki however merely saw this as a challenge.
"I am." He said straightly, tired arms encircling Watanuki's waist and hoisting him up a little so the slighter boy was sat directly atop his crotch. Watanuki shook his head.
"No. You're sick. You have no energy to exert… and it can't be good for your fever!" He said determinedly. "You're too exhausted anyway, and I REFUSE to top again, because the first and only time we tried that you laughed at me."
"Did not." Doumeki murmured
"Your eyes laughed at me!" The insecure uke huffed, folding his arms across his chest indignantly. Doumeki knew full well his 'eyes laughing' meant Watanuki was over paranoid and running out of reasons to say no, so his tired hands reached for the buttons on Watanuki's school shirt.
The bi-eyed teen pushed his hands away furiously. Doumeki's hands went back. This happened a few times until Doumeki was too tired to fight anymore, so just blinked up at Watanuki. He sighed softly, then Watanuki did the same.
"Fine, but if it kills you, it was suicide not murder." He muttered darkly, "And I don't want to get sick so there will be absolutely no exchange of bodily fluids, that means…"
"Do you always talk this much before sex?" Doumeki asked
"One of these days, Shizuka." Watanuki grumbled leaning over and rummaging through the bedside desk drawer somewhat exasperatedly. No pun intended, Watanuki could be incredibly anal about protection, which Doumeki had never really understood. It's not like either of them could get pregnant, and until each other they had both been virgins, both trusted each other not to cheat. But still Watanuki was adamant. Condoms were essential. (A/n: seriously people I just want to take five seconds to say condoms ARE essential. I don't care if they say they're a virgin, or if they say they're clean, or you're on the pill or whatever, abstinence only education DOES NOT WORK, please use condoms.)
Watanuki removed his shirt and sighed as Doumeki struggled to pull his boxers down. There would be no foreplay this time around.
"Romantic." He said sarcastically, grabbing the water-based lubricant from the drawer. Watanuki had already said 'no exchange of bodily fluids' which meant no kissing, no oral… but that didn't mean it had to be boring. Watanuki wrapped his left hand over Doumeki's flaccid shaft, rubbing up and down in a repetitive jerking motion, sure enough despite his illness and fatigue, Doumeki hardened under his lover's expert touch. Years of being 'that awkward boy' at high school had taught Watanuki enough about manual stimulation in private, he knew what felt good for him, and luckily that also felt good for Doumeki. More pressure towards the base, feather light and teasing touches toward the much more sensitive swollen head. Doumeki, who was laid back staring at the ceiling murmured appreciatively at the gesture.
Watanuki had always been a very visual lover, and seeing Doumeki laid before him almost helpless, sweaty, naked and erect was enough to bring his own arousal to attention, standing up at a 90 degree angle in salute. Watanuki kissed the back of Doumeki's hand before tearing open the foil condom packet and rolling it down his member. Doumeki closed his eyes in anticipation, hips jerking automatically when he heard the click of the lubricant bottle. His head felt foggy and he felt worn and dizzy, but he could definitely focus on Watanuki, the feel of his hands generously applying the liquid over his cock, and then that pause where nothing was happening and he knew Watanuki was preparing himself. He opened his eyes for this, watching with a half smirk as Watanuki had always been slightly shy about masturbation, and to him rubbing lotion across his own asshole was definitely 'self stimulation' in his mind. Not that Doumeki minded. He thought it a turn on to see Watanuki touching himself, even if it embarrassed Watanuki himself who was cute when he turned red like that.
"Don't stare you sicko." Watanuki chided as he slicked himself up, preparing for this. He was always incredibly self conscious during sex, but that didn't really matter to Doumeki, he loved Watanuki enough for the both of them. If Watanuki couldn't see he was beautiful then Doumeki usually showed him. Watanuki put the bottle down and crawled up, so he was looking Doumeki in the eye before positioning Doumeki at his hole. He closed his eyes and winced very slightly as he lowered himself onto Doumeki, sitting back slowly until he was sat on Doumeki's lap, with Doumeki inside him.
Watanuki had always felt he got the better deal out of sex, he knew no better pleasure than being filled by Doumeki in this way, or in any other way come to think of it, there was the emotional pleasure of it feeling so close to someone, having them be a part of you, but the physical ecstasy was inimitable, the feeling of being stretched, of heat being channelled right up him, for lack of cleaner terminology the mere fact Doumeki's cock was in him was heaven.
Doumeki however always felt he got the better side of sex. He had once attempted to get them to swap places, so he could see what it was like for Watanuki, so he knew where to improve, but Watanuki had buckled under nerves and confidence problems. Doumeki didn't mind. 'Topping' for him wasn't about power, or control, he and Watanuki were equals… well to be honest he valued Watanuki more than he valued himself but that was neither here nor there. He loved burying himself into Watanuki, the heat, the pressure, Watanuki had been painfully tight the first time they'd had sex, they had both bled, now Watanuki's canal seemed to have adjusted to the perfect size, always yielding to his average size easily, accepting all or little of Doumeki's shaft depending on the position.
For a quiet boy Doumeki was oddly adventurous with sexual positions, not that he minded Watanuki riding him, especially now when he was too weak to explore. Doumeki loved trying new things. Yuko usually gave good advice without being asked, which Doumeki would always note and implement later. The position they chose would usually reflect on the mood of the day, were they feeling romantic then sitting down with Watanuki on his lap, eye to eye usually worked best. If Watanuki had done something stupid that day, like risked his life for no good cause, Doumeki wanted it known that Watanuki was everything to him, and they would rarely wait. In that situation Doumeki didn't care about the location, a bathroom, school against a wall, on the floor, Yuko's place anywhere would do, as long as he got his point across by being completely naked, touching every inch of their skin together as though it may be the last time. Watanuki usually mumbled an apology after that kind of sex. If they were feeling horny that day, which with teenage boys let's face it happens often, naked is not necessary, a quick fumble under the covers with the zips down would suffice.
The deeper penetrating positions were usually reserved for occasions like birthdays or Christmas (or any other kind of alcohol induced sex) for the main reason that it was somewhat painful for Watanuki, he could handle all of Doumeki's length and girth by now that much was true, but with deeper penetration things tended to get wild, with Watanuki on all fours and Doumeki mounting him, each thrust knocked them both for six, sending them dizzyingly closer to orgasm. However Doumeki's favourite type of sex was always this. Watanuki didn't have to be penetrating to be 'on top'. He liked to occasionally give Watanuki the reigns, after an injury or in this case illness, where Watanuki was the one expressing emotion, showing him what was meant. Because right now, with Watanuki sat on him, beginning to rock slowly back and forth, hands braced on his chest, Doumeki could tell Watanuki loved him. Hell he could usually tell, but right now was when it was at it's strongest. Doumeki stopped musing, becoming lost in the sensation of Watanuki riding him.
Doumeki found the strength to place his hands on Watanuki's hips, helping steady him, Watanuki gasped as this meant he had much more control over the speed they went, and he picked it up, lifting and dropping his body onto Doumeki's stiff shaft. Watanuki mewled in content as Doumeki's eyes fluttered closed and his head rolled back in drunken ecstasy. Doumeki still looked rough there was no denying that, but a tinge of colour had come back to his body, and when his eyes were open Watanuki saw a familiar passionate spark reserved only for the bedroom. Watanuki clenched his hole and began moving faster, revelling in the feeling, the sound, the smell of sex. Doumeki was in heaven, beyond heaven, tight hot fast sex, Watanuki doing the work because he was ill, Doumeki barely found it in himself to hold Watanuki's hips but he managed, egged on by Watanuki's nails in his shoulders, Watanuki was close. Doumeki always knew Watanuki was close, because of the way his brow furrowed, the way his eyes clenched shut, and better yet, the way he gasped as though it was a new sensation every time.
Sure enough the rush of air that next escaped Watanuki's lips was a shocked gasp, then a moan as the opalescent liquid spilled from his bulbous tip and onto Doumeki's own stomach. Once Watanuki was finished Doumeki deemed it safe to cum, he never ever finished before Watanuki, he didn't let himself, there mere sight of Watanuki naked was enough to make him want to cum, but he always chose to wait until after Watanuki finished, he wanted Watanuki to be first. Always. So when Watanuki recovered from his orgasm, sparks of electric passion still igniting his blood, and continued lifting and lowering himself onto Doumeki's shaft, the sicky followed suit, filling the condom with an inhuman groan, before relaxing exhaustedly.
A glowing post-coital Watanuki climbed off and cleaned them both up without a word, before laying down beside Doumeki and closing his eyes, ready to sleep.
"He's sick." Doumeki said to Yuko, whose red eyes twinkled devilishly. "So he won't be at work today."
"Understandable." She nodded. "You DO know what they say the best healer of all is?"
A/n: Two one shots in one day? I'm on a roll. Happy birthday to me. I'm 19!