I wrote this as a kindasorta follow-up to the drabble Sick Day, and mostly because I was in a mood for writing smut (although admittedly, this was before I had really sharpened my smut skills). This, too, was written back in the fall of 2006.

Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me; I just borrow it sometimes. The setting and characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi.

Hot Soup

Genma was watching Hayate eat his soup with that strangely unique, pretending-not-to-be-interested look, the senbon hanging lazily from between his lips. Hayate turned his deadpan-deadman gaze up at Genma, looking slightly irritated. "Do you mind? I'm trying to eat here."

Genma only chuckled quietly. "You're always so touchy when you're sick."

"I told you, I'm always like this."

"It makes me wonder how you even complete your missions, when you're sick all the time."

Hayate gave a noncommittal grunt, sniffling a little as he chewed on a piece of tofu. There was a soft silence for another few minutes, and Hayate liked it that way - he could eat his miso in piece. He was sitting propped up against the headboard, his back cushioned with pillows; Genma was sitting next to him on the bed, one leg dangling off the edge lazily. The silence was broken only by a cough or a sniffle every once in a while. When the bowl was drained, Hayate leaned over to place it on the night table, but Genma took it from him, fingers brushing against his sleeve. "I thought I told you to take that shirt off."

Hayate rolled his eyes. "You can't tell me what to do. Besides, it's not good for my health to be without a shirt when I'm sick..."

"Oh, so you're admitting you're sick now?" Genma had that faintly smug look on his face, the white of his teeth showing through his parted lips. Hayate gave a small groan.

"You're so mean..."

Genma leaned forward, tugging on the hem of Hayate's shirt. "Off."

Hayate leaned away from him, careful to avoid the senbon. That thing could easily put an eye out. "Take that out of your mouth..."

"That's not what you said last time..."

Hayate pushed him away a little, turning away. Genma smirked - had that been a blush on Hayate's pale face? He chuckled quietly, putting the senbon on the night table. "Okay, okay...it's out. Now, off with the shirt."

Hayate was sliding under the sheets, back into a comfortable resting position. "No," he mumbled, his words mingled with a brief cough. "Sleep time."

A hand snaked around Hayate's waist, the tickling sensation causing him to suck in his breath quietly, his stomach shrinking away from Genma's cold fingers. Genma's hand grasped the bottom of his shirt, pulling it upward. "Ngh. Genma..." he groaned. "Not today. I'm not feeling well."

"I know," Genma said smugly; he was almost purring. "I know what'll make you feel better."

One of Hayate's hands wrapped around Genma's to wrench it away - the other reached up to wipe his running nose. He sniffled again, trying to wriggle away from Genma. "No. No, that's not going to make me feel any better. It's going to make me feel worse, and you know it, Genma."

"Maybe. Maybe afterward. But you'll feel good for a little while, at least..." Genma was stronger than him; the shirt was coming off whether Hayate liked it or not. And in that particular moment, he did not like it very much at all.

"Genma, I said - "

The rest of his words were muffled as the shirt came off, passing over his head. Genma dropped the shirt on the floor and leaned over him, smirking. Without the senbon, that smirk didn't look as lazy and smug...now, it just looked hungry. Genma slid out of his vest, pressing against him; Hayate could feel his cool breath on his neck, his fevered skin. Did he have a fever? He wanted to ask - maybe that would stop Genma, for just a moment - but he found the words stopped in his throat, stopped dead in his throat.

Hayate couldn't suppress the chill that ran up his spine when he felt Genma's lips dancing across his exposed neck. Genma's mouth made its way up to his jawline, and by the time Hayate felt the enticing nibbling on his ear, he'd completely given up on dissuading Genma.

Genma finally pulled Hayate towards him, turning him so that he could get a good kiss in. Their lips met, and Genma's tongue plunged into Hayate's warm mouth, a mouth that still tasted of miso. One of Genma's hands was slowly making its way down Hayate's chest, his side, pulling at the waist of his pants - it wasn't long before they were off and on the floor with his shirt and Genma's vest. By that time, Hayate had decided that it wasn't so bad this time. There had been worse...

Hayate couldn't stifle a quiet groan when he felt Genma's hand slide under his boxers, pulling them away, fingers brushing against him teasingly. He felt Genma's smirk as his tongue darted across Hayate's teeth. Genma tossed the boxers aside and returned his hand to Hayate's member, which was quickly becoming hard. Hayate was finally beginning to kiss back with some actual energy, his tongue slipped into Genma's mouth. Genma hooked his free arm around Hayate's neck, pulling him even closer, while his other hand gave him exactly the kind of attention he wanted.

Without warning, Genma pulled away, licking his lips - they were curled into that distant, evil smirk. His hands slid away from Hayate's body, leaving the sickly man staring at him in a huff. "What..."

"Still want me to leave you alone so you can sleep?"

"You...you are so mean..."

Genma closed the distance between them once more, pulling off his own shirt. "Guess I'll take that as a no..."

The next parts Hayate couldn't remember so clearly - he blamed the fever he was certain he had. He could only recall the heat, the pleasure - Genma's lips seemed to be everywhere at once, until they finally settled on his aching member, and from then on Hayate could remember more clearly. The sheets were twisted in his hands - he was sprawled on the bed, gasping for breath, calling for more - everything went white, pleasantly, harshly, simply white for just one moment as he came. The tension in his body faded away slowly, and he sank into the sheets, chest heaving with the force of each panting breath. Genma lifted his head, licking his lips, and crawled over to face Hayate. That evil smirk was still on his face, in his clouded eyes.

"You don't think we're done already, do you?"

Before Hayate even knew what was happening, Genma was completely naked and Hayate was lying on his stomach, his face flushed from fever and excitement. Neither of them was particularly quiet as Genma slid into Hayate, leaning over him and panting and uttering all manner of obscene things. Hayate, however, didn't particularly mind the obscenity of all.

It wasn't long before Genma came as well, surprising Hayate with the sheer power of his lungs - Genma collapsed on the sheets next to Hayate and kissed him smoothly, and Hayate could still taste himself. Genma reached over and pulled the sheets over the both of them, and wrapped his arms around Hayate's body for extra warmth. Hayate soon fell asleep despite himself, his body too worn out from the sex and the sickness, and Genma only chuckled, very quietly.


When Hayate next opened his eyes, he immediately wished he hadn't. His head was pounding, his mouth and throat were dry and achy, and he was sore all over, particularly in the nether regions. Moreover, he was fairly certain his fever had, if anything, worsened.

Genma's sleepy eyes opened slightly, and a slight grin tweaked his lips. "Feeling any better?"

"You," Hayate croaked, "are so mean."