A bit of a follow-up for my fanfic, "Caught in the Rain."
Warning(s): Mention of sex
May need to read "Caught in the Rain" for full clarity.
Nezumi hummed to himself, mimicking the tune of a song that had been stuck in his head for several days, although he could not at all place its origins. It was difficult to smack the tune from his mind. Over and over, the small snippet of music came crawling back into his conscience. Perhaps the worst part was he only knew a very small fraction of the song, which ended far too quickly to preoccupy him. Rather than repeating the notes like a broken record, he found himself creating an entirely new addition to the tune. Bit by bit, he had soon created an entire song. Without words to match the tones, he could only hum it, feeling his throat vibrate pleasingly as he went about making breakfast. Perhaps he'd try vocalizing it a bit more later, but for now he didn't dare make any loud sounds. One quick glance towards the bed showed that Shion was still sleeping peacefully, curled up tight beneath the blankets. The day was already beginning to wear on—if the clock wasn't lying, and it truly was already noon—but Nezumi didn't want to wake Shion up just yet.
Nezumi had tried his best to be gentle with Shion, but last night had still been, to Nezumi's better knowledge, the boy's first sexual experience. He would certainly be sore in areas, so some extra rest would serve him well. In the meantime, Nezumi planned to have a nice breakfast waiting for him when he woke up. He had made a point to scour the decrepit western block for a decent merchant, and purchased fresh food just for the occasion.
A short while later and breakfast was complete. Some eggs, sausages, fresh fruit, and even a few flapjacks. He set out the plates and dished up the meal. Now all that was left was to wake Shion.
The dark-haired boy had hoped that the scent of breakfast would coax Shion awake, but was disappointed to find the boy still deeply asleep. Perhaps it was worth it, however. The white-haired boy did look tremendously beautiful in his sleep. Delicate lashes shut together; supple lips parted to accompany each breath. Nezumi may be only imagining it, but his cheeks still looked flushed, as if they still recalled last night's events.
"Shion," Nezumi said softly, sweeping aside the boy's loose locks. He petted the scar on the boy's cheek with his thumb, murmuring his name quietly. "Come on, it's time to get up already. I made breakfast."
The only response Nezumi received was a grumpy little groan and a twisted expression as Shion wrinkled his brow. He tossed his head this way and that, refusing to open his eyes.
"Shion?" Nezumi asked. He shook the boy's shoulder, starting to grow impatient. He hadn't slaved over the stove for nothing. He had let Shion sleep plenty—now was time for him to get up and appreciate his home-cooked meal.
And still, Shion didn't rise. Strangely, however, he began to shake, as if his entire body was protesting against Nezumi's persistent shoves. Wait… he was shivering. All over, Shion was shivering. Another groan escaped his lips, followed by a whimpering sound.
The raven-haired boy quickly placed his hand on Shion's forehead, deeply concerned. Was he sick? Now that he thought of it, those rosy cheeks did seem a bit too obnoxious… And, sure enough, his forehead was boiling hot.
"Oh, Shion…" Nezumi murmured. He thought back to the night before, racing around outside in the rain. Between that chilly event, and the exerting affairs that followed, it was no wonder that he was sick. "So much for breakfast," he grumbled.
Nezumi couldn't be angry at the boy by any means, though. It was a bit frustrating, going through the trouble of making breakfast for nothing, but he could hardly feel disappointment over the worry growing in his belly. Shion was sick, and Nezumi didn't even know if he had any supplies to make him well again.
He wasted no time in tearing through the house, digging for any medicine and anything else that he thought may help. Shion was shivering, so he'd need to be warmed up… right? He could get a warm towel, and there was always the possibility of making a hot drink, or soup even. Nezumi would feel much better if he could just get him some medicine, though. If something was going to make him feel better, it would certainly be medicine. If only he knew where those bottles were…
"Gotcha!" Nezumi exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of medicine from an old drawer in the bathroom. Now that he recalled, he had specifically placed this medicine here for safe keeping not too long ago. He felt very foolish for forgetting that
Stumbling back towards Shion over the mess he had made, Nezumi grabbed a spoon to pour the syrup into. Placing the bottle aside on the nightstand, he then tackled the pressing chore of rousing Shion. He tried talking to him, shaking his shoulder gently—but all he received in return were several groans and grumbles. Finally he decided to be more forceful and slipped his arm underneath the boy's shoulders, hoisting him up. "Come on, Shion, wake up," he muttered softly.
Shion finally opened his eyes, blinking tiredly. "Ne…zumi?" he asked groggily. There were bags under his eyes and his face was still terribly flushed.
Nezumi smiled down at the boy, despite his current condition. "Hey, how do you feel?" he asked.
Shion tipped his head thoughtfully, considering for a moment, before he shut his eyes tight, shivering. "Feel nasty," he said.
Chuckling, Nezumi adjusted the pillows so Shion could recline back comfortably. "You had a bit of a rough night," he said, eyeing the mess that still covered Shion's body. "This should make you feel a bit better for now, but we need to get you cleaned up."
The white-haired boy parted his lips for the medicine, allowing Nezumi to spoon it into his mouth. The small action seemed to sap him of a good amount of energy, though. Seconds after Nezumi pulled the spoon away, his eyelids were already half-mast, drooping sleepily.
"Don't fall asleep yet," Nezumi insisted. "We need to get you cleaned up, remember?"
All that Shion offered in response was a short mumble. His eyelids were shut and he rolled onto his side, groaning sleepily.
Rolling his eyes, Nezumi went back into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Heating up some warm water, he dipped the cloth into the pot and wrung it out. "Since you won't get up…" he mumbled, pulling the blanket off of the other boy, revealing his messy body.
For a second Nezumi couldn't help but grin, marveling in the events of the night before. He had made the marks that littered Shion's body. Each kiss mark that marred his collar was a claim. Shion was his, and he'd do everything in his power to keep the boy he cared so deeply for safe. Now with him sick, this was just another challenge for Nezumi to conquer. He'd make sure that Shion was better soon. He hated to see the white-haired boy hurt; watching his brow contort with what must be a headache made Nezumi want nothing more than to rid him of illness as soon as possible.
Gently, Nezumi began to clean the mess away. He swiped the sweat from Shion's brow and then moved farther down to wipe the dried cum from his chest. Shion made quiet sounds, shivering whenever the cloth met his skin. He positively gasped when Nezumi spread his legs, carefully cleaning the dried fluids from between the white-haired boy's legs.
"I would have hoped a grown boy such as yourself could wipe his own ass?" Nezumi chided.
Shion positively groaned. "Shaddup," he said. He made a poor attempt to kick Nezumi in the chest, but wound up hitting nothing but thin air. His leg fell back to the mattress with a thump.
Nezumi laughed, distributing a playful smack on Shion's buttocks. "Careful, I don't have to be nice to your sick ass."
Shion made no response, instead burying his face deeper into the pillow. When Nezumi did not immediately pull the covers back over him, he reached out and pawed the bedspread, searching blindly for the blanket.
Nezumi tucked Shion back in, forgetting all snarkiness to fold the blanket snuggly around his lover's resting form. It was more fun to tease Shion when he was actually coherent, anyway. Well… as coherent as the airhead could ever be, that was.
Without Shion to help, Nezumi could only devour half of the breakfast he'd prepared before he was forced to either preserve or toss the leftovers. Once the table was cleared, he started to prep a new meal. This time he'd make a nice vegetable soup—one that would hopefully make the sick boy better. Nezumi didn't exactly have a wide range of vegetables to work with, but there was at least enough to make a basic soup. After dicing the ingredients, he dipped everything into the pot and waited for the water to heat up.
There wasn't much for Nezumi to occupy himself with, waiting for the soup to cook. Of course he had shelves upon shelves of literature at his disposal, but he felt a bit too jumpy to sit down and enjoy any of the novels. His eyes kept sliding over to the sick boy in his old bed. He was, without even realizing it, watching Shion very intently now. Surely this wasn't anything past a cold, but Nezumi couldn't help but feel worried for the airhead.
Rising from the couch once more, Nezumi slid his way onto the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through Shion's hair, trying to sooth his own nerves much more than Shion's. Not a minute after, Nezumi was lying beside the sleeping boy. And a minute after that, Shion was wrapped tightly in his arms. As his arms coiled around the smaller boy's figure, Shion awoke, shuffling around to stare at Nezumi blankly. He uttered several semi-incoherent words, mumbling something about Nezumi catching sick too if he stuck too close, but the raven-haired boy could not be swayed. Resignedly, Shion accepted the company. Very soon, he was curled snuggly against Nezumi's chest, completely out cold.
Nezumi could have stayed there for hours, but was forced to get up when the pot began to boil over. The soup was finished now— just hardly surviving Nezumi's carelessness. The fuss he made over the soup, saving the meal from the fire, woke Shion. Swallowing swear after swear, nursing a slight burn on his thumb, Nezumi could see a pair of lazy red eyes staring at him, watching his every move as he dished up the hot soup.
"Let it cool off a bit first," Nezumi warned Shion, depositing the bowl beside him on the nightstand. Shion nodded dimly, yet still picked up his spoon, stirring the utensil in wide, slow circles.
As soon as the soup was cool enough, Shion started to spoon tentative scoops into his mouth. Nezumi watched, irritated, as large drops fell everywhere, dribbling down Shion's chin and to the floor.
Yanking the spoon from Shion's hand, Nezumi scooped it into the bowl and held it up to Shion's lips. "Open," he instructed simply. Without any fuss, Shion parted his lips, allowing Nezumi to tip it into his mouth. The white-haired boy leaned back, letting him to do this several more times. "…like a baby," he could hear Nezumi mutter under breath.
Shion did not eat very much before he seemed full—or until his appetite had disappeared, rather. He was sick, after all. Face still flushed, eyes still glazed over with tiredness, he seemed positively out of it.
With Shion properly fed and medicine in his system, Nezumi could think of nothing more to do for him. He wished that the medicine would start to kick in faster, however. It was stressful watching someone be sick. So stressful.
Knowing that concentrating on anything at this point would be fruitless, Nezumi figured that he may as well sleep also. Tucking the covers securely over Shion, making sure that the sleepy boy was properly covered and warm, Nezumi squirmed into the bed. He clutched Shion close as he always loved to do, burying his face into the boy's errant white locks. He inhaled deeply, content with the familiar presence of the person that he loved so dearly. Nezumi was very glad now that Shion was addled by illness, drunk with fever. He loved Shion, this much was true; he'd do anything for the boy, this was no lie. However, allowing Shion to witness him in such a state of pure devotion was unacceptable. The airhead would never let him live it down, or at the very least pester him with a barrage of needless questions.
Shion stirred in his sleep, yanking the covers crookedly off of his bare legs. Nezumi fixed the blanket, sighing as he hugged Shion tighter to his chest.
Shion awoke feeling rather dazed. For a moment, he wasn't certain where he was, or what time it was for that matter. It didn't take long for Shion to register the location he was in, however. Memories quickly flooded back to him: traveling towards the western block with Nezumi, slipping into the old chamber they'd once called home, playing outside in the rain, going back inside soaking wet, and then… Shion practically went red at the very memory of what had occurred. They'd had sex. Nezumi and he had become very intimate, engrossed by straying hands and engulfing kisses. Butterflies rose in his stomach, recalling the event. The butterflies quickly stilled as the boy remembered something past that, though—he'd been sick. He could recall, far less clearly than the passionate memories from before, feeling woozy and tired. In fact, he still felt a bit groggy, sitting up in bed.
"The no-longer-a-virgin is awake finally?" someone suddenly said, making Shion jump. Nezumi was sitting on the couch, a cup of tea held between his hands. As Shion's crimson eyes fell on him, the raven-haired boy smirked. "You were out long enough. Still feel sick?"
Shion had to pause, collecting his thoughts. "Uhhh, um… Not really now, no." He really did feel better. "How long was I out for?" He ignored the virginity comment, unable to think of a valid response that wouldn't fall into blabbering stutters and mad blushing.
Nezumi laughed. "Long enough for me to start eating another breakfast by myself," he said, gesturing to a plate full of sausages on the table.
Shion couldn't help but feel bad, even if being sick was beyond his control. He was certain that Nezumi had taken care of him, after all. It was very vague, but he could recall Nezumi feeding him soup and holding him tightly while he was ill… At least Nezumi wasn't quite finished with this breakfast yet.
Pushing himself up, Shion figured he'd join Nezumi at the couch. Shion hadn't stood for more than five seconds, however, before he doubled over. He was suddenly aware of the fact that he was naked—and very sore. Although he remembered their lovemaking quite fondly, the aftereffects were less than pleasant. With one hand Shion quickly covered his front, while the other massaged his lower back. "Oww…" he mumbled, shooting glares at Nezumi.
Nezumi laughed again, this time much more deeply. "Don't look at me like that. I was gentle; you're just too soft still. What are you covering up for, anyway? Nothing I haven't seen already." He wore a look of pure, smug enjoyment.
Shion groaned, pulling the blanket around his waist. Face redder than ever, he demanded that Nezumi hand him his clothes—any clothes. Breakfast long-forgotten, Shion was forced to chase after Nezumi as the raven-haired boy held a pair of pants just out of his reach, moving considerably slower than usual.