Samon sighs for the five-hundredth time and turns over on his bed.
It's the second day he's on sick leave and god be damned if he's taking another, because right now the clan is at the peak of everything, the Tree of Exodus, getting rid of the Princess, and it kills him that all those plans are in motion out there even as he tries to find a comfortable spot where his bed doesn't burn him. He doesn't know why his body's picked this particular time to get sick. Samon knows he ought to be at his office, supervising it all, but even he can't find the energy. He hopes a good sleep will cure him, because he is damn well going back to work tomorrow, sick or not.
Dimly he hears the sound of a lock turning so he sits up and pats his hair back into place, meaning to check whoever is barging into his house at a time like this. He gets off the bed and walks to the main door, only to find Natsumura there taking his hat and coat off.
The said man looks up in surprise at Samon and concern shows in his eyes.
"Samon-dono, are you well enough to walk yet?"
"This is just a light fever. It's not a big deal," Samon says, walking over and stopping just short of the genkan.
Natsumura stares at him, analyses him for a while before, without warning he's pinned against the wall, one hand restrained by Natsumura's warm one, and the taller man presses their foreheads together, and it feels cool on Samon's hot one, but his brain is actually too caught up faintly twitching and trying to resurrect itself from the shock. Natsumura has always been straight-forward, but not this much!
The red-haired pseudo-clan-leader is not sure if his hand – that has placed itself above Natsumura's stomach, where through the flimsy shirt he can feel the hard, toned muscles, but more than that he can feel the warmth that is Natsumura and that in itself is a pleasure he doesn't let himself enjoy more that once in a very long time (because then he'd get hooked), but back to topic, - he's not sure if that hand wants to push the other man away or pull him closer, and his mind is leaning dangerously in favor of the latter choice, the choice that he's been denying himself all this while, and he's also not sure if his iron restraint will hold with Natsumura so close to him.
"Hn. I wouldn't call it light. Samon-dono, you should get back to bed. Right now."
"Ah? Uh… okay…" Samon was still trying to snap out of his mental paralysis, but he could still feel the ghost of Natsumura's touch on his wrist and his breath of his face, when the man in question had long ago stepped back out of Samon's personal space. Natsumura's words registered and he turned back, taking a step forward. Natsumura followed him, scrutinizing Samon with his piercing eyes.
Somewhat lethargically he retraces his steps and throws himself on his bed, to his extreme delight finding that the stupid thing had finally cooled down. He presses his face deep inside the coolness with a contented expression, and Natsumura restrains the urge to laugh, because if he does he'll never see this again. The black haired man smiles, remembering how he loves the cute side that Samon's always had but never liked to show, and he's glad he's the only one allowed to know and love this adorably ridiculous Samon.
He walks up to Samon-dono's bedside and plops himself down on it, and lazily Samon opens one eye and looks at him questioningly.
Natsumura leans down and brings his lips to just above Samon's but pulls himself higher and drops a tender, loving kiss on the ma's forehead, making the older man's eyes pop open in surprise. A familiar blush, that Natsumura has made an art of bringing out, colors Samon's cheeks and he splutters something unintelligible.
"Natsumura! I'm defenselessly sick in bed! Don't startle me like that!"
A smirking Natsumura has once more retreated and Samon takes the opportunity to throw a pillow at his smug face, which of course is effortlessly caught in one hand and tossed back into place. As expected of the clan's strongest fighter… and, less well-known, Samon's lover.
Samon still can't bring himself to say it aloud.
But it doesn't look like Natsumura minds, lying down beside him and cocooning him with both his arms and despite himself Samon feels more secure and happier than he did lying down alone.
He smiles, taking in Natsumura's scent, his warmth and the feeling of being against his chest.
"You know, I can almost feel your smile, even if I can't see your face right now, Samon…" Natsumura's voice is a phantom whisper, grazing his earlobes and it's just as effective as his fingertips when the man's breath makes the hair on the back of Samon's hair stand up.
"B-baka! That's impossible!"
Natsumura cocks an amused eyebrow towards his 'superior'.
"It is possible. Do you want to know why?"
Natsumura feels the unspoken yes and the curiosity of his partner.
"It's because… lovers don't need words to communicate."
His corny reply sends Samon reeling, his face the same red of his hair as he tries to regain his mental stability.
"What? Isn't it true?"
"Well – you're not wrong…"
"So doesn't that mean you acknowledge me as your lover?"
Samon squirms around for a while and finally opens his mouth but before he can actually speak Natsumura beats him to it.
"Why won't you call me that…?" There's a trace – just a bit – of frustration in his tone and it comes to Samon with the suddenness of crashing into bricks that maybe it's making the older man feel insecure?
Samon immediately turns around to face Natsumura, because that's the last thing he wants to do – make Natsu uncomfortable – and he turns his face towards the other man, but Natsumura won't look at him and instead continues talking.
"Am I not enough? Or is it that you're just going along with me? Have I bored you already? You've never said you loved me. What do you really-?"
Samon puts a finger to the taller one's lips, making him finally turn his eyes to meet Samon's. Samon's eyes are so full of contrasting emotions he can't tell which is which. On the inside, the red-haired man is shaken, by how he's completely failed to notice the doubts that had been haunting his beloved's mind. He knows he's never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve but he realizes he needs to do just that around this guy for their relationship to work.
Natsumura's eyes are still on him, probing and reading and scanning for a clue to what is going on in the other's head.
"It's definitely not that I hate you! Always, for me, you've been the only one… but it's just that… I've always… felt that, to describe you worth to me… simply 'lover' is not enough… because I don't know how to fit all my feelings in just one five-letter word… in fact I don't think even all the letters in the alphabet can help me properly tell you how much I love you, because… you're the only one who has done this.. and that… with me… so…"
Natsumura stares down at Samon and he's really shocked because Samon never talks about feelings and all that and this makes a huge impact on the fighter, because just now he's expounded on how much Natsumura means to him and that, more than anything else is simply amazing; that Samon would be willing to tear down his walls and connect.
Meanwhile the sick guy is still staring at Natsumura's wide orbs, his finger has withdrawn itself and now he's simply waiting, to see what his lover will do.
Wordlessly, protectively, Natsumura draws the red-head's body hard against his own, letting the touch tell the man things no words ever could. After a second Samon too drapes his arms around the taller one's body and squeezes hard.
"You're such an idiot!"
Natsumura smiles and moves to pat Samon's hair in a comforting manner, like how Samon used to do it to him when they were kids.
"I'm fine with being an idiot, as long as it's with you."
Even in the middle of their hug, Samon grunts, "You're awful lovey-dovey today. Did something happen?"
This guy has always been a weird mix of extremely perceptive and devilishly dense. Natsumura sighs, knowing he can hide nothing, and continues, "I ran into my ex-girlfriend today, at work."
"Huh?" The embrace quickly becomes adorably jealous, at least to Natsumura, and the fighter moves the hand that was playing with Samon's hair to his cheek. Samon doesn't waver. His eyes narrow and he waits for Natsumura to continue. "And?"
"We just got talking about old times… and drifting apart." Unconsciously, both of them are clinging hard to each other, but neither notices. "It was when I first started working for the clan. There was that one job that took about a month, and she and I just sort of… drifted apart in that time. I couldn't fix it, it just… happened. And then I… I remembered how we don't really talk a lot right now, and I realize it's because we're busy. I mean, we're trying to protect the world here. But… even though I knew that, I thought I might lose you just like that and I just… I was scared. I came to you right away."
Well. The words intrigue Samon, to say the least. So the fool thought their relationship would shatter because of some ex-girlfriend of his?
"Don't be a fool. Your ex says something and you believe it? What happened with her was in the past! And anyways…" Samon crosses his arms over his chest, a defiant look on his face that Natsumura knew all too well, the look that dared him to defy the pseudo clan-leader's words. "We're not going to be broken by something like that!"
Natsumura forgets to breathe for a moment, looking at the regality of his lover. Somewhere in his head he realizes, when people said to their significant others, you look beautiful when you're angry, it wasn't a lie.
A soft smile breaks on to his face, and he shakes his head. "Of course…"
"What? I don't know why but I am seriously pissed at you! What is this feeling, it's burning me! Natsumura, I order you, you are not to leave my side for the next twenty-four hours!"
Natsumura's seen yet another side of Samon, and maybe this cutesy jealous one is the most irresistible yet? There are so many contesting for the position he's not sure which one deserves it.
He smiles at Samon again, "I'll be glad to obey that order," he says.
Samon clearly hadn't expected such a reply, because the blood rushes to his face and he covers it with both his hands. It's cute, like very nearly everything else the red-haired man does. He's yelling about something, "that's not what you're supposed to say!"
Natsumura gently nudges the hands away, bringing Samon's face so-so-so close to his own, watching every emotion on the other man's face and savoring each of them. He kisses him, and Samon's eyelids drop shut. Tongues are added to the mix and both men live in this moment, one moment of time where everything is perfect and there's nothing waiting out anywhere to pull them apart. Samon takes the initiative and brings his body closer to the taller man's. A low whine escapes his mouth against his will as the younger man breaks the kiss.
Natsu smirks. "Did you really think I'd do you when you were sick in bed with a fever," he half-asks, and Samon wants so very bad to wipe that smirk off his face.
Natsumura can almost see Samon's fur standing up on edge. "Of course not! I would have stopped you if you went too far, so there!"
"Are you sure? Because you didn't seem very capable of thinking at the time…"
Natsu's baiting, and both of them know but Samon still rises to it, throwing a pillow again smack on his face, which is again easily dodged. He can hear Natsu's clear laughter filling the room, so he peeks up to catch a look of the rare phenomenon. It's not long after that both of them are laughing, sides aching.
Samon throws himself down on the bed, and Natsu follows suit, touching their foreheads together, his hand on Samon's side. Much, much earlier than he expected, Samon feels himself drift off, but not before mumbling something. "…'m… glad…"
Natsumura brings his ear closer to hear better. "I'm… glad… you came…"
Surprise hits him like a knife in the gut and he's struggling to keep the tears out of his eyes, because it's always these things, the little things that make him realize just how much he doesn't deserve Samon, not beautiful, resolute, adorable, innocent and kind and just so fucking like an angel that Natsumura almost doesn't believe it, doesn't believe this creature fashioned of fire and glass can actually love him, who's done nothing to deserve such affection. But… the warmth of the arms around him, the unkempt hair brushing against his face, the memories of words said with sweet, pure love assure him that yes, this fire-dragon is somehow his for the taking.
He smiles, and he's thankful for whatever of whoever made it this way, made it so that he could spend his days and nights with this beautiful man. He closes his eyes, smile still playing on his lips, and drifts off right next to his other half.
Beside him, Samon is still blushing but happy in a high-school-teen kind of way, speaking three words that his lover would have killed to hear…
"I-love-you…"
fin.