When Masaomi woke up, he was only aware of the fact that his head was heavy. There was pressure right at his temples, and his whole body ached. Groaning, he closed his eyes again and rolled onto his side. He should have known that this would happen when he felt tired at eight o'clock last night and had to log off of the internet to go to bed early.

...Wait, he'd stayed up on the computer long into the night when he was sick before. Why had he gone to bed early last night, again? He was trying not to get sick, trying to stay one step ahead of it. Why?

It hurt to think. Masaomi rolled over again, this time onto his stomach, and buried his pounding head into his pillow. He let out a little whine; even in his sickness, he wished there was someone else home to fuss over him.

The doorbell rang, and Masaomi groaned into his pillow again. He didn't want to get up. He didn't even want to think about moving. The doorbell rang again, and, with all the strength he could muster, Masaomi lifted his head to glare out from his open bedroom door into the apartment's foyer.

Though his legs screamed in protest, Masaomi slowly sat up and let his covers fall from his shoulders. Instantly, he was freezing, and he grabbed the blanket again and wrapped it around himself as he shivered his way out of his room.

The doorbell rang a third time. Normally, Masaomi would have yelled, "I'm coming, jeez!" but right now he was just trying not to die before he made it to the front door. Back in his room, he could hear his cell phone going off. Great. He'd get it later; he didn't have the energy to turn back now that he was halfway to the door.

Masaomi had a hazy thought of the jerk on the other side of the door - probably someone selling something or starting a petition. Leaning his body heavily against the door frame, his blanket wrapped tightly around him, Masaomi opened the door before the doorbell could sound a fourth time. Standing outside, one hand holding a cell phone, the other raised to ring the bell again, was Mikado.

For the first time that morning, Masaomi's brain flashed with the recollection of a Saturday to be spent with Mikado. Anri was busy, so Masaomi would have him all to himself; he'd planned a great day of video games, movies, and sushi. All this would lead up to a confession of love so epic that Mikado would be incapable of doing anything but falling into his arms.

That was why he'd gone to bed early in his desperation to beat his cold. Masaomi couldn't help the little groan that escaped his lips as his hand slipped from the doorknob. Mikado's eyes widened.

"Masaomi, you look terrible!" he said. "What are you doing out of bed?"

After a few seconds, it occurred to Masaomi that he was supposed to respond.

"We're going to the movies, aren't we?" he croaked. Ick. His voice sounded like he'd been chowing down on cotton balls all night. Not romantic at all.

"We're not going anywhere! You look like death." Mikado stuck his head in the apartment door and looked around. "Where are your parents?"

Another couple of seconds passed, and Masaomi opened his mouth to respond and swayed on his feet. Without waiting to be invited in - not that he needed to - Mikado stepped inside the foyer, wrapped an arm around Masaomi's waist to carry his weight, dropped his messenger bag on the floor, and shut the door behind him.

"You're here by yourself?" Mikado asked, his blue eyes even bigger than usual - or maybe that was the pressure in Masaomi's head distorting everything. Masaomi leaned against Mikado drowsily as the latter helped him back to his room. "I'm so sorry, Masaomi, I had no idea that you were sick. I never would have kept ringing the doorbell like that. I feel like such a-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Masaomi slurred when they reached his bed. "Whatever you're about to say is crap." Mikado's grip on him eased, and Masaomi, still tangled in his blanket, dropped back into his bed. Without warning, Mikado crawled up on top of him and put one leg on either side of him. Even with his brain as scrambled as it was right now, Masaomi didn't think that was the normal response to someone who was ill. At least he could blame his blush on the fever. "Uh, Mikado, what are you-?"

Mikado's thin hand pushed back his bangs - ugh, his hair was sweaty, gross - and rested on his forehead. His palm was so cool. Masaomi wanted to reach up and hold it there.

"You're so hot," Mikado squeaked, and Masaomi grinned. "It's not funny, Masaomi. I can't believe you're here alone." Mikado sat back on his haunches, still balancing precariously over Masaomi, and pressed his lips together. "Okay, it's decided," he said. "I'm staying."

"Staying where?" Masaomi knew the answer to this question would be obvious if the room wasn't spinning. He shut his eyes until the dizziness passed.

"Here," Mikado said. "I'm going to take care of you."

Masaomi's brow furrowed, and he opened his eyes again. "Mikado, I want to hang out with you today, too, but not if it means getting you sick." He tried to roll onto his side, but Mikado was still on top of him. "You should just go home. I'll be fine. I know how to be sick alone."

Mikado's face fell, and Masaomi regretted his choice of words immediately. "You're always alone?" he asked in a small voice. The pounding in Masaomi's head was getting worse, and he closed his eyes. It was the aching that made him do it, not the look on Mikado's face. It had nothing to do with that. "Oh, Masaomi."

He could feel his bed dipping as Mikado crawled off, but there were no departing footsteps. Masaomi rolled onto his side and cracked an eye open. Mikado was standing next to his bed, hovering over him.

"Tell me your symptoms," he said, and Masaomi could tell by the way his eyebrows were knitted together that Mikado was trying to be stern and authoritative. Which was hilarious and...

"Cute," Masaomi said, eyes fluttering. Mikado rolled his eyes.

"Masaomi, the reason you're sick is not because you're cute. I'm being serious!"

Very cute. Masaomi could've kissed him and would have done so gladly if he weren't afraid of making Mikado sick.

"My head hurts," Masaomi said, and Mikado snapped to attention. "I ache everywhere, I'm tired, and I'm cold."

"I could tell," Mikado said, reaching over and straightening the blanket so that it laid evenly over Masaomi. "You're shivering. Well, the best thing for you to do now is rest. Have you eaten anything? Can you?" Masaomi closed his eyes again. "Okay, no food. Tea and orange juice are good, though. That's supposed to make you feel better. Do you have any?"

"Any what?" Masaomi asked with a yawn.

"Hang on, I'll go check," Mikado said, hurrying out into the kitchen. Masaomi could hear him puttering around in there, going through cabinets and the fridge. Mikado started muttering to himself, and, though Masaomi couldn't make out what he was saying, he smiled at his disgruntled tone. Mikado came back in a minute later. "There's nothing in the kitchen at all," he said. "It looks like nobody's done the shopping in ages."

Masaomi's head was killing him, but he had to open his eyes at Mikado's tone, just to get a look at his face. It was even better than he'd thought; Mikado had both hands on his hips and was pursing his lips. Satisfied, Masaomi shut his eyes and curled up under his blanket. The bed dipped, and Masaomi felt Mikado's fingers combing back his bangs again.

"Where are your keys?" Mikado asked. "I'll go to the store and pick up some things for you - orange juice, bread for toast. If I have your keys, you won't have to get up again to let me back in."

"You don't have to do that," Masaomi said with a sigh, feeling himself drifting back to sleep with Mikado's gentle touch.

"I want to," Mikado said. "Keys?"

"Jacket," Masaomi said, regretting it as soon as Mikado's cool fingertips left his forehead. He heard Mikado go to his desk and search his uniform jacket for the keys. A jangling sound signaled his success.

"I'll just go to the corner store," Mikado said. "I'll be five minutes. You rest, okay?"

"Mmm," Masaomi mumbled, snuggling into his pillow. He faintly heard Mikado leave before he fell asleep.

What felt like seconds later - but was, according to the digital clock on his desk, minutes - Masaomi woke up shivering. He was freezing. Grabbing his blanket, he pulled it up over his head, tangling himself in it. No dice. The chill was terrible; he couldn't stop shaking.

There were extra blankets in the linen closet. Masaomi rolled out of bed, tugging his blanket with him, and stood slowly. Seven minutes hadn't been nearly enough time to sleep. He pulled the blanket over his head and wrapped it around himself, padding out into the hallway again. The floor was cold beneath his bare feet. Masaomi tried shuffling a little faster.

Just as he was a few feet from the bathroom and the linen closet across from it, he heard keys in the doorway. Mikado came in, two grocery bags in each hand, and caught sight of him.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he squeaked, carefully putting the bags on the floor, pocketing Masaomi's keys, and shutting the door.

"I was getting another blanket," Masaomi answered, gesturing limply to the linen closet. Mikado grabbed his shoulders and steered him back to his bedroom.

"I'll get it for you," he said. "You don't have to get up for anything, okay?"

"I was right there, Mikado," Masaomi said, nevertheless letting his friend help him back into bed and fix his blanket. "What did you buy, anyway?"

"Everything you might need," Mikado said proudly, running from the room and returning promptly with two other blankets. One was the spare from the linen closet, and the other...

"Did you steal that from my parents' bed?" Masaomi asked as Mikado covered him up with the other two blankets.

"They weren't using it," Mikado said in a clipped voice. His little smile returning, he added, "I got you orange juice, tea, cold water, crackers, bread and butter for toast, and stuff for chicken soup."

"Stuff for..." Masaomi curled up under his new blankets, the chill passing. "You're going to make me soup?"

"If you're hungry," Mikado said, sitting next to him and rubbing his back. The motion was soothing, and Masaomi sighed. "Let me get you something to drink. You should stay hydrated."

Mikado left but was back in a flash with a bottle of cold water and a small glass of orange juice. He offered to make tea, but Masaomi didn't want it. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Mikado had even bought straws for his juice.

"Mikado, you're nuts," he said with a smile.

"I'll leave you alone so you can sleep," Mikado said, "but call me if you need anything."

"You don't have to stick around," Masaomi said. "You've done enough."

"I'll be the judge of that." Mikado's hands were on his hips again, and Masaomi grinned.

"You take good care of me, Mikado," he said, and his friend's expression softened.

The chill returned, and Masaomi shivered, pulling his blankets tighter around him.

"Are you still cold?" Mikado asked. Before Masaomi could respond, Mikado had yanked up his blankets and crawled into bed beside him. Masaomi squawked in surprise, but Mikado pulled the blanket down over them and wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him close.

It was strange; Mikado's hands were so cool, yet he was warm. Masaomi couldn't help inching closer, resting his head in the crook of Mikado's neck. Even though shivers still ran through his body, he wasn't cold.

"I'm sorry," Mikado said. "I thought it would help, but you're still shivering."

"It's helping," Masaomi said, grabbing the front of Mikado's jersey. "Don't move." Mikado chuckled.

"Okay, I won't," he said. With Mikado's smile against his ear and his warm arms wrapped around him, Masaomi felt himself falling asleep again - this time for longer, hopefully.

It was much longer. The sleep had been deep and dreamless; when Masaomi woke again, he was still wrapped up in Mikado's arms, but the sun was lower in the sky. Light streamed through the window.

The pressure in Masaomi's head had faded. Breathing deeply, Masaomi stretched a little bit, looking over at Mikado. He'd fallen asleep beside him. At Masaomi's movement, though, his eyes fluttered open.

"Sorry," Masaomi whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Mikado looked up at him curiously - yeah, his eyes were definitely bigger than they used to be, and bluer, too - and didn't seem to register what he was saying at first. When he'd come to, he sat up, his expression horrified.

"Oh, Masaomi, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he said. "Here I am, supposed to be taking care of you, and-"

"You are taking care of me. You're taking great care of me," Masaomi said, rubbing his eyes. "You kept me warm so I could sleep. I feel better." Mikado perked up at that.

"You do?"

"Yeah. A little hungry, even." With a grin, Masaomi joked, "Didn't you promise me homemade soup, Nurse?"

Mikado didn't get the joke. "Sure! If you're hungry, I'll go make it up for you!" He started to get out of the bed when Masaomi grabbed his wrist and tugged him back down.

"I'm kidding, Mikado, jeez." Masaomi laid back down and pulled his friend with him. "Stay." Mikado's face lit up with a blush, and Masaomi had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at his cute expression.

Cute. That word sure was coming up a lot today.

"You just want me to sleep next to you all day?" Mikado asked.

Yes, Masaomi almost answered. Sleeping curled up in Mikado's arms felt nice, and Masaomi sure wasn't opposed to sleeping like that again. Forever, even.

Instead, he said, "I'm just a little cold."

Without another word, Mikado pulled the blankets back up over them and hugged Masaomi close. Ducking his head, Masaomi smiled triumphantly into Mikado's shoulder.

"I should make you soup instead," Mikado said. "It'll do you good to have something in your stomach, if you can eat, and it'll warm you up just fine."

"In a minute," Masaomi murmured.

"You're going to get me so sick," Mikado said, and Masaomi's eyes snapped open. He let go of him immediately, and Mikado rolled off the bed with a laugh. "Silly! I don't care about that," he said, grinning. "Now I'll go make soup, and you stay right here."

Masaomi let him scurry off to the kitchen. It really did feel nice to have someone fussing over him - to have Mikado fussing over him. Sleeping wrapped up in Mikado's arms...Masaomi never thought he would get the chance to do that today. He listened as Mikado rooted through his pots and pans and went into the fridge. Mikado was so cute. So wonderful. Masaomi laid back down, the pillow still warm from where Mikado's cheek had rested.

"I love you," he whispered, and when he closed his eyes, he could still feel Mikado's arms around him.