Tag: Vanilla

Setting: Modern Time in a Rabu-Rabu (Love-Love) couch (Okay, I'm clearly kidding with the love-love thing /sighs)

Length: 1,522 words

Warning: Character butchery galore! (I.. gave in to my fan girl instincts with this fic. Forgive me. OTL)

English phrases are in bold, since Masamune speaks 'Engrish'. /laughs

It had been unknown to anyone that the prideful Dokuganryu would allow himself to carry anyone in his arms, bridal style.

The temperature had been middling in Masamune's memory when he had seen Yukimura shifting restlessly in his sleep. The couch was quite narrow – so narrow that accommodating Yukimura's slender frame was the most it could do. From the patio, he peered through the slightly peeled doors, the sight only becoming more uncomfortable to bear as Yukimura unconsciously inched himself closer to the edge. Masamune palmed his forehead, an exasperated sigh escaping as he strode towards the slumbering figure.

"Oi, wake up." Masamune wasn't one to wait. As a matter of fact, he wanted very much to kick Yukimura in the gut just to get him awake. Today instantly marking itself a rare occasion, Masamune decided to wait and call out to Yukimura for the last time. Only this time, he threw in some curses into his boisterous wake up call. "Oi you piece of shit, wake up!"

When Yukimura failed to budge an inch at his more than loud call, Masamune snapped, all unimaginable places included, and made up his mind to hit Yukimura with the vase which was conveniently within his reach. He gleefully picked the vase up, a toothy grin curling his lips. He was more than ready to whack Yukimura with a home-run worthy swing, save the fact that he had noticed the slight redness settling in Yukimura's face just in time.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said as he set down the vase into the side table quite dejectedly. He lowered himself, bending his knees and crouching down close to Yukimura, with his hand hovering about Yukimura's face. He had caught the paltry breaths escaping from Yukimura's parted lips; they were warm. Soon after, his hand instinctively led itself towards Yukimura's forehead, it feeling nothing but seething heat.

"Crap." Nursing the sick is not, and will never be Masamune's thing, if he may say so himself, as his brows knitted themselves in dismay. "It's you who usually does the patching up! How the hell should I know what to do?" Masamune had been in the right mind to not throw his usual temper tantrum today. He huffed and placed his hands nonchalantly above the curve of his hips as he tried raking his mind for options.

After a few minutes of mulling things over with the occasional shoving-of-Yukimura-back-into-the-couch, he finally decided to call and ask for Motonari's help with much distaste. He dialled the well-remembered number and crossed his fingers, hoping that Motochika wouldn't be around to poke fun at him since he was obviously not in the mood for jokes. He placed the receiver to his ears before he asked, almost in a whisper, "Oi Motonari.. Yukimura is running a fever and-"

"Masamune!" The familiar and awfully jumpy voice on the other line was definitely not Motonari's, which made Masamune's shoulders sag considerably. His brows started twitching, his hands tightly curling around the phone.

"What the hell are you doing there Motochika?" he growled, the trail of his voice uneven.

After a few snickers, Motochika had the nerve to answer, "Why shouldn't I be here? And I hear that Yukimura's sick." Feeling a bit smug with the distance between the Yukimura and Motonari residences, Motochika decided to play the quack doctor and said, "Just snuggle up to him and he'll be as good as new!" He tried stifling a fit of laughter, but he gave in and burst into a healthy roar.

"MO-TO-CHI-KA!" Masamune thought better than to get riled up over the phone, but in the end, he couldn't help it. He wanted to shove the phone down Yukimura's throat because it was his fault that he made the call in the first place. "Listen, just hand the phone over to Motonari before I decide to dash there and beat you up."


"Oi.. Motochika?" Feeling rather impatience, he added, "You still there?"

Masamune heard someone clearing throat over the receiver before he heard, "This is Motonari," which made him sigh with relief.

"Listen, Yukimura is running a fever and I do not know what to do." He could just imagine Motonari rolling his eyes, or worse, smirking at his concern.

"Just take some paracetamol tablets from Yukimura's medicine cabinet then make him drink them at time intervals. Now.." He heard yells for help coming from Motochika before the phone went dead.

Masamune shrugged. "Poor sap."

It had been late when he realized that he did not have any idea where Yukimura's medicine cabinet was. They did live together, but Masamune wasn't one to get sick and he thanks his superior, as Masamune would proudly put, immune system for it. He rummaged through every nook and cranny of the house, all the while thinking that he would shove the cleaning duties to Yukimura afterwards. Finally, after making more than half of the house seem like a dump, Masamune flashed the paracetamol tablets with pride.

Masamune thought that all his ordeals would be over, but when the time to make Yukimura drink the medicine, he got stumped. He thought of waking Yukimura up, but he trashed the idea when he saw Yukimura snuggling on to the couch which he thought was very... cute. He turned his head mechanically as he felt his face heat up.

Next, he wanted to just slip the tablet onto Yukimura's mouth and down it with a glass of water. But then, the imagery of Yukimura's retching up because of a tablet stuck to the back of his throat did not sit well with Masamune.

Finally, he got the idea to just dissolve the tablet in a glass of water, drink it, then pass it to Yukimura with his mouth. He never got through with the it because all the while he was piecing this one brilliant idea together, he was having a nose bleed. Quite a massive one at that. He could just imagine Motonari calling him a pervert with Motochika rooting for him by Motonari's side.

Masamune may have been a clever brawl tactician, but when it came to things that really mattered, Yukimura would always top him.

In the end, he decided to bring Yukimura up to his room and wake him up for a change of clothes. Masamune nodded to himself and proceeded to do the task. He bent over the couch, only to feel the sting from his freshly-patched back wound that he had gotten with a fist fight with Ieyasu. He made a mental note to pay him back in ten-fold as the wound made carrying Yukimura more taxing than it should have been.

As he scooped Yukimura up in his arms, he felt the back of Yukimura's knees and nape and noted that they were warm. Too warm. He quickened his pace and dragged himself up a dreaded flight of stairs. He felt the pain from his back growing more intense as he went up a step, steadily reminding himself to have Yukimura treat him to ice cream or maybe yogurt. He reached the door to Yukimura's room without tumbling over and mindless of the notion that the door might break, he kicked it open.

Relieved that the door didn't rupture in splinters, Masamune showed himself in, further noting that Yukimura's room looked a lot tidier than his own, which virtually resembled a cave which was also the reason why he preferred sleeping on the couch. He set Yukimura on the futon laid-down in front of them. Apparently, Yukimura had not been feeling well enough to have tidied his bed earlier in the morning.

"If you were sick, you should have just told me," Masamune meant to keep the thought to himself, since Yukimura was practically too knocked out to hear him.

"You don't need to worry, Masamune," Yukimura worded groggily from under the blanket he buried himself under. "Besides, I get sick like this a lot."

Masamune raised a brow at his curled-up companion. "You were awake?"

"Just now," Yukimura managed between a series of coughs. He squirmed deeper into the blob of his blanket, leaving only a tuft of his brown hair exposed.

Seating himself beside Yukimura's futon, Masamune chided him to take the medication before he dozed off again. "Here, drink this," he said as he popped the tablet out of the foil encasing with ease. He muttered, "Stop blushing or else I'll pounce on you even if my back were hurting like hell," under his breath, not caring whether Yukimura heard him or not.

He then propped himself up, feeling the prickling ache from his back. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." Masamune made the right choice of making his way out, as his minimal restraint would be unable to hold itself any longer.

Through half-closed eyes, Yukimura saw Masamune mouth more phrases that he was unable to make sense out of after he had taken the innocent-looking tablet. He figured that Masamune wouldn't play silly pranks at a time like this, so he thanked him before downing the tablet with water and returning to his sleep wordlessly.

Reviews are forever loved.

Note(s): Lame ending is lame. LOL

I love writing light fan fiction once in a while. That earlier DateYuki fic made me uncomfortable (and sad). Also, I wanted to have Motonari appear here as well. I kinda like characters with personalities with likeness to his. And poor Motochika! XD I always imagined him to be a free-loader type in modern times, so yeah. Sorry about that. XP

Oh yeah.. all hail paracetamol! Yeah, the fic revolves around paracetamol awareness. Yay.. not. And I had a lot of fun portraying Masamune as a goof-up like I am which is a stark contrast to Yukimura's housewife-ly image. /laughs (Yes, you may all kill me now.)