Title: For You Gift

Author: ShaGojyoxChoHakkaiYaoiLvr

Part: Second of Third

Rating: PG - 13

Anime/Manga: Gensomaden Saiyuki

Date: Began June 6, 2003; Ended June 10

Pairing: (let's use our brains... try to figure it out)

Category: Romance, Angst, Language

Notes: My second actual Saiyuki fic. I'm just a hyper-active caffeine powered thriteen year old that plays solitaire too much and watches too much Lupin III for it to be good for my health. Ha ha. Please review and let me know what you think of it. Oh, and if you like this short fic, please read my other one entitled "Born to Be My Baby".

It alternates between the characters' POV's.

___________

Part Second

Well, he stayed out later than I expected. For what reason, I am afraid I have no answer. I really wish he were back right now. It's starting to rain and I just got that nervous churning feeling in my stomach. I miss him already! I figure that when he comes home, I'll tell him. Yes, that's it! And I won't back down this time, either! Just watch me. I can do it.

I got up out of bed and, despite the headache and congestion that plagued me, I decided to try to think about how I was going to break it to him. Should I just go all out and say it straight to his face or should I wait and just spill my guts out in the middle of a conversation?

"Alright...," I began. "I don't know how to say this, but..." No, no, that was all wrong. "I think that maybe I should let you know..." No, that's no good either. Ah! I can't think straight. "Well, see, after these few years of living with you, I kind of..." Damn it, why is this so hard!? "Look, I think that I should let you know..."

"Let me know what?" came his voice from behind me and my ranting and raving self.

"Ah!" I jump up a good foot before I finally resume living in the real world and remember that he asked me a question and I needed an answer... fast. "Ah... You scared me!"

"What did you want to tell me?"

"I... wanted... to tell you...," I stammered. Come on, you told yourself that you were going to do this. Go for it! Just tell him! You can do this! You can do this! "I... wanted to... tell you... that...," I stopped there and began coughing, bent over with both hands over my mouth.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Maybe... erm... I'm contagious." Whoo, nice save, ass. You promised yourself that you were going to tell him!

"Look, I don't give a damn if you're contagious. I care if you're gonna be okay!" He put both of his hands on my shoulders and shook me in the middle of his sentence. After he finished speaking, I finished coughing. "You feel lousy, well, I went out and bought you some Cold Medicine and some soup. Okay? Just lay down for now and relax. We don't want it getting worse." He motioned toward the bed and helped me underneath the covers.

I blushed instantly but pulled the covers up to cover my face in more of a shy manner than anything. He laughed at this with a light - hearted smile and then grabbed the grocery bag he had brought home and went into the tiny kitchen of the house. "Oh, and I bought more Green Tea. See, I heard from somewhere that if you drink a lot of herbal tea, your immune system reacts five times quicker."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so no more coffee until you're better."

We both laughed and I heard him pull open a packet of some powdered substance. Obviously, it was the soup, since he added water and put it into the microwave.

He cares for me more than I thought. Maybe not in the romantic way, but enough to take care of me like a guardian when I'm ill. I smiled.

* * *

He smiled for some reason. I could see that from under the covers of the bed. Remember when I said I could never stop looking at him? Yeah.

I reached into the paper bag and pulled out a small bottle of the Cold Medicine and reached for a spoon to measure it. He sneezed.

"Bless you!" I said, astonished at how bad that sneeze sounded.

"Thank you," he replied, sounding stuffed up and congested.

"There's a box of tissues on the night - stand next to the bed," I instructed. He sneezed again and reached for one.

You know, he has the cutest sneeze. Did you know that? He really does. It's short and high - pitched like a kitten's. Well, come on, the man is drop - dead - gorgeous. Everything he does it cute.

"Hey, sorry about the personal question, but about how much do you weigh?"

"Huh?"

"You know, the instructions say the amount of medicine depending on the weight of the person. Gotta know how much you need."

"Oh. Somewhere around one - hundred - fifty pounds."

"Alright. Three teaspoons."

The microwave went off with a repeated beeping noise. It got real redundant after a while.

"That'll have to cool before I stir it and microwave it again," I said. I sauntered over to his bedside and knelt down next to him, unscrewing the cap to the medicine bottle.

"Oh, really, you don't have to," he protested when I held a spoon full of the liquid up to him.

"Come on, now, I know how the flu makes your whole body feel like Jell-O."

He laughed and swallowed the medicine. Another spoonful and he commented, "You know, I feel like a little kid again."

"Aw, come on, who says you're not?" I asked with a goofy grin. I poured another spoonful of the medicine and gave it to him before screwing the cap on but then I got a second thought. I poured some of the stuff into the spoon and stuffed it down my own throat. "Alright. Don't wanna catch what you got."

We both smiled.

I got up and put the medicine in a cabinet in the kitchen and stirred the soup in the microwave, then put it in for another three minutes.

He started into another bad fit of coughs, both hands over his mouth and him hunched over. That worried me. He didn't sound too healthy. I ran forward and put a hand to his shoulder and then, when he had finished coughing, I put my lips to his forehead again. He always blushed when I did that. He felt even hotter than before and he was sweating pretty badly. I took my lips away from his head and turned worried eyes to his exhausted face.

"You're even worse than before!" I exclaimed.

A weak smile graced his parted lips as his breathing hurried.

"Here, this might help you feel better," I offered as I undid two of the buttons of his shirt and parted the cloth to the side to relieve some of the heat from his chest.

I had to get up right then to go into the kitchen since I could feel myself flush red hot. Did he really just let me do that? Unbutton his shirt and he didn't even ask! But he has got the most beautiful neck! Shit, I would give absolutely anything if I could press my lips to his neck and hear him gasp as I kiss him there. My hand flew over my mouth and, luckily, he wasn't able to see me from my current location in the corner of the kitchen. I wanted an excuse for running into the kitchen right then. Um... The soup wasn't done yet. Two minutes to go, yet.

He called my name from the bed. He sounded so weak and helpless when he did, I swear, the only thing I could think of doing was going to him and putting my arms around him, pulling him close, kissing him... but, of course, my gut never listened to my heart and I didn't do any of the above.

My name was called again, followed by a gag and a cough and I rushed to his bedside immidiately. "What is it?" I asked but he answered with an action: his hands flew over his mouth and he sat straight up and I reached for a pale, a bucket, anything. There's one in the bathroom, with brushes and shit in it for cleaning the soapscum off of the shower tiles. I darted for that and dumped the krud out, neverminding where it fell and I put the bucket on his lap. His hands flew to the sides of the bucket and I kept mine there. I worked one of them free and held his hand as he vomitted into the bucket. My other hand found it's way to his back and I patted his shoulder and whispered things like, "It's okay" into his ear. He kept going. Finally, as he stopped, I got up and came back with a warm wash cloth that I had soaked and I removed the bucket from the bed and put it to the side. I wiped off his mouth and told him to blow his nose into the thing.

"I should have asked this earlier...," he whispered, his eyes nearly shut as I picked up the bucket of puke to flush down the toilet.

"What?"

"What exactly was that medicine?"

"Amoxocilin."

"Ah..."

"What is it?"

"I can't keep that stuff down is all." He gave me another weak smile that made me want to break down and cry. How in the world does he find the stregnth to smile no matter what the situation?

I dumped the vomit in the toilet and flushed it down when the microwave went off and I put the bucket in the sink in the bathroom to wash it out. Ran to the microwave. Took the soup out. Set it on the counter to cool. Ran back to the bathroom. Shut off the water. Let the bucket soak. Look at me go.

I came back to the bed and pulled up a chair next to him, sitting down with a determination of something that went, oh, maybe, "I'm not letting you leave my sight until you're better."

"Really...?" he breathes.

"Well, this certainly is no Head Cold."

"Eh..."

"You feel pretty tired, huh?"

"Yeah..."

I got the wash cloth and rinsed it out before I poured cool water from the sink faucet over it and I came back to him. I smiled and ran the cold cloth across his forehead and delecate neck, down to the exposed area of his chest that I had uncovered in order to let him cool down somewhat.

* * *

He's unbelievably gentle.

I can just fall asleep just like that, with him running the wash cloth over my exhausted body and I can just lay there. I can trust him. He won't hurt me. I know that.

"You know, you have really pretty eyes." That shocked me. What did he mean... exactly?

"I... I do?"

"Yeah..."

I blushed. He laughed again. He must know that I love him. How could he miss it? I sneezed again and he seized up a tissue and wiped my nose for me. I can't believe it! Here I am feeling like a dead man, no strength left to even cough without a chestpain and he's taking care of me like this! The man I love is taking care of me. Oh, God, please, don't let me ever wake up from this dream. This paradise.

Before I know it, he is at my side again, with the bowl of soup and giving it to me bit by bit. He's so caring, so gentle, when he wants to be. I still can't believe that he's right there beside me, feeding me, and tending to my weak and exhausted body. And the expression on his face didn't change from being absorbed in what he was doing. We kept our eyes locked the entire time...

He put the empty soup bowl in the sink, washed it, dried it, put it away, and was at the bedside seconds later.

I think we both knew what was coming next...

*End Part Second*

Please read and review. Part Third shall be up shortly.