Work Text:
“Ken-chin!”
Her clear voice cut through the humming of the crowds. She waved at him as she approached the festival’s gate in little steps. She had on a yukata with a big flower pattern in blue and white, tied with a yellow and red obi. Her light brown hair was tied up to a messy low bun, donned with some flowery hair ornaments. It showed her usually hidden small, pale ears. To Kenji’s delight, clipped on them were the pair of earrings he gave her the other day.
“Aww, why didn’t you come in yukata?” She jabbed her finger lightly on his chest, pouting. Kenji thought she was cute.
He shrugged. “I don’t own one.”
Grabbing his arm, she started to pull him towards the festival. “It’s such a pity. You’d look great in one! Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve gotten one for you. Maybe also in blue? Blue suits you well, and we would totally match!”
Kenji smiled and listened to her enthusiastically chatting away. They hadn't been together long, but he was already quite taken with her cheerful nature. He liked the way she clung onto his arm and he let himself be dragged from one booth to the other, while still carefully navigating them both through the swarm of visitors.
Yamashita Park was close to bursting. It seemed that not only locals, but also people from other parts of Kanagawa and even Tokyo were here for the summer festival and the fireworks. The sun had already set but the air was still sweltering. Though the sea breeze was quite strong it didn’t quite reach them inside the park. The air was thick with the smell of food from the stalls. Kenji was already sweating and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. On the one hand, he worried that he would stink, but on the other hand, it would help to bring his fever down.
That’s right, despite his energetic demeanour, Kenji had been feverish since that morning. It had started with a mild fever but had gotten worse as the day went on. His girl had been very much looking forward to the festival, though, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. So he had swallowed some medicine and forced himself out of the door, trusting that he would soon feel better.
It was worth it to see her radiant face. He bought her cotton candy and won her a turtle plushie at the can throwing booth. They tried on silly masks and admired the various amezaiku on display. All the while Kenji ignored his dizziness. He also secretly hoped that given the heat in the air around them, she would not notice his increased body temperature.
Everything was fine, Kenji told himself. It was only less than half an hour until the fireworks. Slinging an arm around her waist, he led his girl out of the stalls area towards the promenade. The crowd had started to gather there. If only Kenji had had more money he’d much rather take her up to the Marine Tower. He’d treat her to a nice dinner there, then watch the fireworks from the air-conditioned observation deck. But mingling with the crowd was a nice alternative, too.
Gingerly, he held her from behind, taking great care not to touch anywhere dangerous. Their height difference was perfect for him to rest his chin on top of her head. Her hair smelled really nice, it was almost intoxicating. Kenji inhaled deeply and smiled, as he felt her hands gently grasping his. He could easily steal a kiss or two while everyone was looking up…
…or at least, that was his plan. As the first fireworks shot up to the night sky the next thing he knew he was slumping over her small frame, gradually losing consciousness. The last thing he remembered was her panicked voice, frantically calling his name.
When he came to, he was lying in her bed. A cold, damp cloth was pressed onto his forehead.
“Stupid Ken-chin,” he heard her scolding him. But as he looked up sheepishly at her, he noticed that her eyes were much softer than her tone. “Here,” she continued, offering him a glass of water. He took it gladly and drank in big gulps. For a while, she watched him intently without saying anything. Then she got up, left the room and came back with a bowl of porridge. She sat on the bed beside him, took a spoonful and blew at it.
“Say aah…”
Being sick sucked. It was even worse that he couldn’t even remember how they got back to her apartment. Did she call an ambulance? Did she pay for a taxi? Kenji felt guilty. All he wanted was to make her happy but now he had caused her a lot of trouble. But despite all that, he couldn’t help feeling a little smug.
There he was, in his girl’s apartment, lying in her bed while being fed by her. The porridge was tasteless – and he was pretty sure it wasn’t only because his taste buds weren’t properly working at the moment – but there were little carrot pieces cut into flower shapes in it. That, and the fact that she was wearing a pink apron made it tolerable.
“You look like a wife,” he heard himself saying and immediately regretted it. He glanced at her worriedly, but was relieved to see that she didn’t seem to be affected by his comment.
“Do I? Well, then, I shall prepare a bath for you next,” she said nonchalantly.
Kenji’s heart skipped a beat. Watching her back as she left for the bathroom, he ordered his treacherous heart to calm down. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. She was just responding to his joke – though he wasn’t joking. In any case, it was better to take things slow and not think too far ahead.
After a nice, hot bath, she tucked him back into bed. “Just close your eyes and try to sleep,” I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, okay?”
Kenji nodded and closed his eyes. He felt her hand gently caressing his head as he slowly drifted to sleep. It felt like heaven. It had been forever since Kenji last felt so safe and so loved like this. He was such a lucky guy. Getting together with this girl was the right decision after all.
Or so he thought.
It was only a couple of weeks later, on a dark and rainy summer evening, that she broke up with him.
She had fallen in love with a bassist of a rock band from the neighbouring city. He was eight years older than her – calm, collected and had both feet on the ground. His band was not yet well known, but they had made their debut some time ago. Now it was enough for him to make a living solely from it. It was his maturity and his dedication for his band that had appealed to her.
Even though she was the one who had nagged Kenji to leave Hellcopter to have more time to spend with her.
Even though she had told him she loved his sweet and childlike personality.
Even though she had promised him her forever, as she panted and writhed in pleasure beneath him.
*
Kenji’s hand moved sluggishly to wipe the liquid that was leaking from the corner of his eyes. He blinked a couple of times. He was in his room, in his bed. It was dark. The curtains were still drawn from the afternoon when he had laid down to take a nap. Outside it was raining heavily. Closing his eyes, Kenji felt his forehead with his palm. It was still warm.
Thank goodness for the rain. Kenji didn’t like the rain much, but today was unbearably hot – too hot for not turning the air conditioner on, though he was shivering under his blanket.
He glanced at his left wrist, only to be reminded that he decided not to wear his watch to sleep these days. There was no use in tracking his condition anyway – not until he was back on his feet. He clicked his tongue, rolled to his side and squinted at the clock on the wall. It was already almost dinner time. Rolling back onto his back, he took a deep breath, then let out a long, even breath.
What an awful dream.
He didn’t need to remember any of that. Why did his brain conjure up those buried memories anyway? He had completely forgotten about her. Kenji felt his forehead again. Maybe he was just unconsciously recalling the last time he had a fever during a summer.
That was also the last time he had a girlfriend.
After years of being alone Kenji was used to it. Or rather, he had simply come to accept it. Besides, living alone was not so bad. Living alone meant he could do whatever he wanted. He made his own rules and he was allowed to break them if he wanted to. It was the ultimate freedom, a forgiving space, where he could simply be himself without caring about other people’s opinion or compromising with their needs. Kenji had pretty much embraced living alone – until now. At times like this, he was painfully reminded of how nice it would be if he had someone to look after him.
Ah, he wanted so badly for someone to hold him right now. Someone to reassure him that he would recover soon and that everything was going to be alright. Someone to spoil him, cook for him and tuck him into bed. Someone to help him chase away the dark thoughts inside his head.
His hand reached for his phone beside his pillow but then stopped midair. Hadn't he long since stopped acting needy towards his fans? Hadn't he let them down enough as it was? He really should not worry his fans any more than they already had. Though his comment sections were full of well-wishes, encouraging words, various home remedies and yearnings for him to come back, Kenji didn’t feel like he deserved any of it.
Just as he dropped his hand hopelessly back to the bed, his stomach growled loudly, as if telling him that whiling away in self-deprecation was not going to make him feel any better, but food certainly would. He needed to eat something, anything. Anything to make him recover faster. He couldn’t afford to stay still for too long, or he’d lose his one and only hard-gained asset.
Propping himself on an elbow, Kenji slowly sat up. He waited until his head had adjusted to its new height, then he grabbed a water bottle from the night stand. Just after his last gulp, he heard the front door open and close.
“Oi, are you awake?”
Before he could answer, Yutaka’s masked face appeared from the crack in the bedroom door. Kenji stared at him incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, then cringed inwardly, realising how he sounded much more irritated than he actually felt.
The masked intruder entered the bedroom, carrying a plastic bag with a pharmacy logo on it. “What do you think I’m doing here? I’m going to nurse you back to health!” he said with his booming voice, way too loud for a sick man’s room. He sauntered towards the bed and dumped the bag’s content ungraciously onto the night stand.
Kenji hurriedly scrambled to the other end of the bed, which barely separated him from his visitor. There, he held up the blanket protectively in front of himself and scowled at the other guy. “Are you crazy?! Don’t come any closer!”
Yutaka didn't even spare him a glance as he started to arrange the various packs of medicine, cough syrup and lozenges into little towers.
“No worries, I still have antibodies,” he said nonchalantly.
“You had it last year ,” Kenji reminded him.
“It’s okay. I’m strong!” Yutaka flexed his bicep and threw him a confident behind-the-mask smile.
Kenji shook his head in exasperation. “At least keep an appropriate social distance, will you?” he pleaded.
“Yeah, yeah,” came the casual reply, without any sign of Yutaka moving from the bedside. Instead, he rubbed his hands together and turned his attention from the pile of drugs to the patient on the bed, “Now, are you hungry? I’ve brought you dinner.”
Without waiting for an answer, he left the room and headed for the kitchen. Kenji rolled his eyes and slowly crawled out of the bed to follow him.
Apparently, Yutaka’s definition of dinner for a sick person consisted of soup and rice balls. At least Kenji thought those were soup and rice balls. He eyed them suspiciously.
The soup was brown and thick and there were green and yellow clumps floating in it – most likely seaweed and eggs, or so Kenji prayed for his own sake. At least those were good for the health, though unfortunately they had zero contribution to the soup’s appeal. The rice balls were oddly shaped like little figures with faces and hairstyles made from seaweed.
“Yuta-chan,” Kenji started carefully in between spoonfuls of soup, “don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful for the food, but…what in the world are those?” he pointed at the rice balls.
On the far side of the table Kyan puffed his chest proudly. “Don’t you recognise them? Those are genki Kyan Yutakas, extra mixed with minced chicken and cooked in chicken broth! Full of healthy minerals and healing powers! Aren’t they awesome? I made them so you can still eat me up, even when you’re sick!” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his explanation.
Kenji choked on his soup. Half coughing and half laughing, he pounded his chest with his fist.
Yutaka grinned at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t think I’m a genius!” he teased.
Taking a sip of water, Kenji then propped his chin on the back of his hands and beamed a smile to the other side of the table.
“You are a genius, Kyan-sama, and I’ll always gladly eat you up, in good health and in Corona.”
With that, he picked up one little Kyan Yutaka and began to demonstratively lick between its tiny legs, while glancing at the original version with half-lidded eyes.
To Kenji’s surprise, Yutaka looked a little bashful behind his mask. The man cleared his throat and got up from his seat. “Of course you will,” he said, suddenly in a louder voice. “I’m fucking delicious! Now, take your time to eat me up, I’ll fix up a bath for you.”
Kenji chuckled triumphantly as he watched Yutaka disappear into the bathroom. He popped the rice figure into his mouth. He had to admit – despite its weird form, it did taste good, and that was something, coming from a sick person. Chewing happily, he listened to the sound of the water in the bathtub running.
This was nice. Kenji was truly grateful that Yukata was visiting him, although at the same time he hoped that no one would find out about it. The instructions from the office were clear – absolutely no contact with other people, not even within “safe” distance. His sickness had already caused an uproar and the last thing the band needed right now was yet another crisis.
Kenji patted another little Yutaka’s head fondly before taking a bite. For the past few days he had been well enough to whip up simple meals for himself from the groceries that the staff regularly left on his doorstep, but when you’re sick, nothing beats simply eating food someone else has prepared for you, no matter how bizarrely shaped.
The water had stopped running and Yutaka reappeared from the bathroom. “Hop in when you’re finished, I’ll air out the bedroom in the meantime.”
“Yes, mom,” Kenji replied, then barked a laugh as he earned a middle finger from the other guy. He finished his dinner quickly and obediently went to take a bath as told.
With the hot water filled only up to his waist, Kenji leaned back, careful not to get his upper body wet. Yutaka surely knew how he liked to take his bath. That said, his whole fanbase also knew, so it shouldn’t be a surprise, but it still made him all warm and fuzzy inside. He closed his eyes and let his body gradually relax…
…until some twenty minutes later, as a nasty fit of cough ambushed him. As he wheezed and gasped for air, the bathroom door slammed open.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Kenji waved at Yutaka dismissively, while trying to gain control of his breath. “I’m fine,” he choked in between coughs.
Yutaka shoved a water bottle in his direction. “Doesn’t sound fine to me. Come on, you’ve sweated enough already. Dry yourself before you catch a cold.”
Despite his coughing, Kenji managed to grin. “I’ve already caught one.”
“You’d catch it double, smart ass. Deluxe version, with extra snot and phlegm.”
“Gross.” Kenji made a face, grabbed the bottle and took a few gulps of water.
When his cough finally subsided, he rinsed his body, towelled himself off and put on his sleeping clothes – sleeping naked is a no-no for a sick person. He washed his face and brushed his teeth. Then he took some medicine, slipped a cough drop into his mouth and climbed into his bed. All the while, Yutaka orbited in a safe distance around him like a satellite, as if he couldn’t bear to leave Kenji alone for even just a second.
Now he was standing beside the bed, silently looking at Kenji with his hands in his pockets. Kenji looked back at him, admiring his handsome, delicate features, half hidden by the mask.
If someone had asked Kenji how Yutaka usually expressed his affection to others, he would have answered: by yelling. He’d yell to show his support and he’d yell to show that he was worried. Basically, yelling was his equivalent of giving a pat on the back, or a hug. So Kenji was well aware that today was his first time witnessing Yutaka being more or less sweet to him, and while he had been enjoying the attention so far, he couldn’t help wondering what had brought it about.
It wasn’t as if they were romantically involved. Sure, they had sex – a lot of sex – but Kenji had never thought it was anything more than that.
He didn’t dare hope.
After all, the whole thing had started without them so much as flirting with each other. Kenji had suddenly found himself in the middle of whatever it was they were having, and so far they had never really talked about it. They had simply let themselves go with the flow.
Whenever the mood struck and the timing was right, they usually went straight to business and Yutaka never liked cuddling or engaging in pillow talk afterwards. At first, Kenji had felt lonely, but over time he had learned to accept it. He knew now that it was just how Yutaka was, not because he was indifferent to him.
Having the same Yutaka now fussing over him threw him off a little.
It was even more disorienting that it happened right after he had that awful dream. He thought of how ironic it was that Yutaka even did similar things like the girl did. At least his food tasted much better than hers was. More entertaining as well. Also, since they were not actually together, there was no way that Yutaka would dump him in a couple of weeks like she did.
Or would he?
There was no guarantee that Yutaka wouldn’t simply end their relationship from one day to the next, especially when the band was at stake. Until now they had managed to keep a lid on it, but for how much longer could they do that? Then again, if they were to end it, things would become awkward between them, and this would surely put a strain on the band. Kenji would never be able to forgive himself and he didn’t think he could ever show his face in front of Kirisho again.
Why did they even dare to do something like this? They had never stopped to think how their selfish action could affect the future of the band. They shouldn’t have started this. They probably should have stopped this immediately. If they did it now, it might not be too late–
Kenji started to feel his heart racing and his palm sweating. He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. It was then when Yutaka finally broke the silence.
“How’s your throat?”
Glad to have his train of dark thoughts interrupted, Kenji exhaled and replied, “Sore.”
“And the fever?”
Kenji shrugged under the blanket. “A bit better after the bath, I guess. But definitely still there.”
Yutaka hummed. He stretched out his hand but Kenji pulled the blanket over his head. “Social distancing,” he reminded him sternly, although he would be lying if he were to claim that he didn't want to be touched so badly right now.
The other man clicked his tongue. “You know there’s a thing called disinfectant.”
Ignoring the warning, he gently pulled down the blanket and pressed his palm to Kenji’s forehead.
Kenji let out a pleased sigh and closed his eyes. The cool palm felt so good on his warm skin. To his surprise, the hand moved up and stroked his hair, the fingertips lightly grazing his scalp, causing a pleasant sensation throughout his body. Every now and then, a finger would take a curl and twirl it around before letting it go again.
Despite himself, Kenji smiled.
Ah, what was he thinking? It was absurd. Yutaka wouldn’t just dump him. At least for the time being, Kenji allowed himself to believe that Yutaka cared for him enough to always be around, not only when he was sick.
Still, it would be quite helpful to know what Yutaka actually thought about their relationship. They really needed to talk. He wanted to know whether they had a chance of a future together, whether there was more to it than just physical attraction. And what he really, really wanted to ask him was–
“Do you love me?”
The hand on his head stopped. Kenji held his breath. He didn’t dare open his eyes.
Why the hell did he say that? He didn’t really intend to ask. He didn’t want to put Yutaka on the spot. He wished he could take it back and he opened his mouth to say that he was only joking, but then he felt the hand resuming its movement.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Kenji’s heart leaped to his throat, but he didn’t miss Yutaka’s tone, which he thought sounded a little upset. Tentatively, he risked a glance and was greeted by a pair of large eyes looking gravely at him.
“Got it? So don’t die.”
After what seemed to him like either a few seconds or an eternity of his brain processing, Kenji finally managed to say, “You know it’s only Omicron.”
That was when he had another coughing fit. Yutaka said nothing and merely raised an eyebrow pointedly.
As his cough subsided, Kenji painfully swallowed, then croaked, “Okay. Got it. I won’t die”. Rubbing his abs soothingly, he added, “Man, you could really get a six-pack just by coughing.”
Yutaka rolled his eyes. “Fucking show-off. As if you need it.”
Kenji chuckled in response, and saw that Yutaka was smiling, too.
Shoving his hand back into his shorts’ pocket, Yutaka then looked around the room, shifted his weight from one leg to the other, cleared his throat, and finally said, “Right. I’ll be going then.”
He was already almost at the door as Kenji said in a small voice, “You know, it would be easier for me not to die if you would come back tomorrow...”
Yutaka looked back sharply over his shoulder, just in time to catch Kenji’s mischievous grin ducking under the blanket.
“Only if you’ll be a good boy and go to sleep now,” he countered.
“I’m always a good boy,” Kenji replied sweetly, gaining a snort from the other guy.
As Yutaka turned off the light, Kenji called out to him one last time.
“Yuta-chan?”
“Mm?”
“Thanks for coming. I love you, too.”
Silence. Then a grunt, followed by, “Sleep well, Kenji.” Then Yutaka left the room and closed the door behind him.
Alone again in the dark, Kenji closed his eyes and smiled. He had an inkling that tonight’s dream would be a nice one.