A/N: My first Free! fic. I love all Free ships, but I have a special spot for MakoRin. And fluff. So here's this ^D^ Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated, but please don't just tell me how bad I am. I plan on writing 10 to 15 oneshots, but how many I actually write and how often I update will have to depend on how busy I am.
Warning: Some swearing.
Makoto was lost in a sea of hazy colors. Fuzzy dreams that he would not remember when he woke up floated through his slumber and entertained his sleeping psyche. But harsh, thick noises cut through them like a blade. The noises were indistinct to his ears, as though he were listening with a fishbowl over his head, but they were loud enough to bring him to wakefulness.
Coughing, he dimly realized. Coughing from the figure next to him that was unusually sticking to his own side of the mattress. Groggily he sat up and stretched to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.
"Rin-Rin? Are you alright?" He turned to him as yellow light bathed the room. Rin sat up as well, fist to his mouth in a weak attempt to hold back the coughing.
"Shit," he rasped when it finally abated. "Stupid chest cold. I didn't mean to wake you up." He gave Makoto an apologetic look with ruby eyes that seemed too bright. Glazed eyes.
"That's okay," he replied, feeling a bit more awake with growing concern. Another abrupt fit of wet, painful hacking wracked Rin's lungs.
"Goddamn it," he muttered breathlessly. "I'll move to the couch so you can go back to sleep."
"No," protested Makoto. "Stay here, I'll get you the cough syrup." He climbed out of bed and tread to the bathroom. The medicine cabinet was stocked with a fair supply of necessities, and cough syrup and chest rub had become added to this list of necessities just in case, as Makoto had witnessed Ren and Ran's rough bout with bronchitis the prior year firsthand.
Makoto took both and then headed to the kitchen for a spoon. He didn't waste time with the lights, knowing his own kitchen well enough to locate the right drawers in the dark. Though the darkness did creep him out a little, as if ghosts were lurking in the shadows. Rin's coughs resounded from the bedroom and Makoto quickened back.
"Here," he coaxed, holding out the bottle and spoon as he settled back onto the bedspread. "This will help."
"Thanks," croaked Rin. And as he took the bottle, Makoto couldn't help thinking that his fingers felt much too warm. Rin swallowed down a spoonful with a grimace and Makoto freed his grasp, making room for bottle and silverware on the nightstand. He swept back Rin's bangs and moved a hand to this forehead. Miserable heat tingled against his touch.
"You're running a fever," he confirmed softly.
"I wasn't feeling so great yesterday," Rin mumbled bleakly in response and bowed his face into his boyfriend's touch. A pin of guilt pricked Makoto for not noticing, even if Rin wasn't coughing yesterday. It shouldn't have to take such an obvious symptom to get him to notice his boyfriend wasn't feeling himself.
"You shouldn't have gone swimming tonight," he chided lightly. Rin's reply was another round of coughs he pulled back to muffle into his elbow. Makoto unscrewed the cap on the container of chest rub, sympathy and worry swimming in his emerald eyes. He gingerly rubbed Rin's back as the grating spasm continued.
"Come on, Rin-Rin," he urged gently. "Take off your shirt."
"I told you not to call me that," complained Rin hoarsely.
"Sorry, it's just habit." Makoto smiled sheepishly in apology and fondness. Rin took off his shirt, shivering when the air touched his skin. Makoto dipped his fingers in the chest rub. The menthol tingled against his skin and wafted up to his nostrils in a potent minty wave. He started to spread it across Rin's chest, fingers fanning and massaging it in with care.
"That's cold," muttered Rin.
"I'm sorry, but it will help you feel better." Rin's chest clenched under Makoto's hands and then shook with another tide of wet coughs.
"Oh Rin-Rin," Makoto sighed in concern. "You sound awful." He continued spreading the greasy substance over his boyfriend's hairless chest, hoping the medicine would start working soon.
"I don't feel that bad," he insisted in a scratchy, tired voice that was a far cry from convincing. "Coughing is just annoying." Makoto wiped his hands off on another stretch of Rin's skin and screwed the cap back onto the chest rub. He kissed Rin's feverish cheek and helped him put his shirt back on. He gathered the rub, the cough medicine, and the spoon and walked back to the bathroom.
As he put the contents back in the medicine cabinet, he heard Rin cough again. It didn't sound as harsh this time, and that was somewhat reassuring. When he returned the spoon to the kitchen, Makoto filled a glass of water. He brought it back to the bedroom and Rin accepted gratefully, burying the last of a dying coughing spasm into the crook of his elbow.
"Not too fast," Makoto warned him as he drank deeply, half the glass gone in an instant.
Rin gave a slight incline of the head in acknowledgement and finished more slowly. He placed the empty glass on the nightstand.
"Do you need any more?" asked Makoto.
"No...Thanks, again." His lips pulled up in a wan smile. Aside from the scarlet blotches of flush in his cheeks, he was starkly pale and Makoto felt worry flutter up in his stomach again.
"You're welcome. Do you want me to get you another blanket?" In addition to his boyfriend's unsettling complexion, Makoto had also noted his shivering. It was infrequent, he wasn't shaking like a leaf, but still, every few minutes or so, Rin would quake with chill.
Rin shook his head. "I'm okay."
If he was okay, then Makoto was a pelican. But at least he'd stopped coughing, and Makoto should've known better than to ask. He got another blanket out of the closet (a very cute comforter with little penguins on it, courtesy of Nagisa) and draped it over Rin's shoulders.
"Sometimes you act more like my mom than my boyfriend," huffed Rin irritably. It set him off coughing again and Makoto slipped back into the bed, rubbing his back in ginger circles. It still wasn't as bad as his earlier fits, but far from docile.
"Forgive me," Makoto murmured. As Rin's coughing subsided, Makoto rested the back of his hand to his cheek, trying to gauge his temperature. He definitely had a fever, but how high? He wasn't sweating. Makoto was tempted to grab the thermometer, but Rin was feeling miserable enough without being prodded at and accessed.
"Why don't you try going back to sleep?" he suggested instead. Rin certainly looked like he could use the rest.
"Might as well," Rin mumbled and laid back down on his side. He still had the penguin blanket encasing his torso and Makoto pulled their shared comforter up to his neck. He then joined him under the cover and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.
Rin lifted his head, the ridge of his nose brushing Makoto's neck. "You shouldn't let me breathe near you like this I could be contagious."
"I don't care about that," Makoto said softly. He tenderly pushed his lips to the top of Rin's head.
Rin yielded and snuggled into Makoto, folding quietly and getting as comfortable as possible. He was out like a light and Makoto kept a quiet vigil, running his fingers through Rin's hair and murmuring soothing nothings.