Watari lay on the white sheets, hair open, glasses off, staring out of the window. He was bandaged, his right wrist immobilized until the broken bones mended in a day or two, his ribs supported, his legs wrapped as well. His face was plastered with band-aids that also covered his throat. The long hair of before had been cut down to mid-shoulder length because of the severe burns and tangles.
Tatsumi stood at the entrance to the hospital unit, blue eyes on the silent figure, running over the wounded form. He hadn't been here in the last twenty-four hours even though he had badly wished to sit at his lover's side when he woke. But work had been relentless. Tsuzuki had offered to jump in, do the paperwork, but one look into the gleaming eyes, seeing the grin, and Tatsumi knew it was a bad idea. His friend wasn't meant to be paper-pusher.
"Do come in," Watari suddenly said. "Don't just stand there holding up the door."
The blond turned his head and the no longer so pain filled eyes met Tatsumi's. A smile blossomed on the pale lips. Tatsumi did just that, walking over to the bed, and when Watari raised his uninjured hand, he grasped it gently. He entwined their fingers and ran his thumb gently over the soft skin.
003 was sitting on the head rail of the bed, hooting a greeting, and he smiled briefly at the owl. She hadn't left Watari's side ever since he had been brought here, and no one would dare chase her away.
"How are you?" Tatsumi asked.
"Better. I should be mobile in a day or two."
Tatsumi gazed into the golden eyes that had captured him such a long time ago. They showed little of the agony his partner had endured just the other day. The demon's poison had almost completely stopped the shinigami's healing powers and they were slow to respond. Now those wonderful eyes were filled with the warmth Tatsumi knew and loved, the sheer life this man radiated.
"Good."
He wanted to say so much, but nothing left his lips. He was mesmerized by the other's expression, blue eyes roaming over the smooth features, locking on the amber gold, an Tatsumi felt his breathing hitch.
"Taka…" he managed and it sounded like a stutter.
Watari smiled knowingly, lovingly, and tugged at his hand. He followed the move, leaning forward. Lips met, a chaste contact, and Tatsumi felt something inside of him flutter briefly and then relax. His free hand stroked carefully over one cheek and Watari's smile widened, the golden eyes warming with a tenderness that touched the older man deep inside. He gave his lover another little kiss.
"Get well."
So not what he wanted to say. He wanted to be affectionate and warm as well, he wanted to express his feeling, but something inside him had frozen up and refused to thaw.
"Seii? Take me home tomorrow?" Watari asked, breaking into his train of thought.
"Promise."
He buried his hands in the blond locks, enjoying the feel of the silky strands. He loved the simple feel of it.
Watari initiated another kiss, lips opening, their tongues meeting. Tatsumi groaned into the skillful contact.
"Taka, not here," he whispered. "Let's wait…"
Golden eyes seemed to laugh, sparkling with humor. "Tomorrow," he said softly.
"Yes, tomorrow."
Tomorrow, when they were safely back home, he would show his lover just what he wanted to say. What he wanted him to know.
Watari's hand cupped his face and his thumb brushed over the slightly swollen lips.
"I know, Seii," he whispered. "I know."
Tatsumi swallowed, emotions reeling. I love you so much, he thought.
"I love you, too."
And why was Watari such a mind reader?
"Your face is an open book, love," the scientist answered.
And that to the man who could frighten even the hardest shinigami, make them tremble in their boots.
"Get some sleep," he murmured tenderly.
Watari grinned.

The door closed after the tall form of his lover and partner, and Watari's smile faltered, then failed. He closed his eyes and raised his uninjured hand to press it against his forehead. It had taken a lot to sound and appear as carefree as usual while inside a black, cold void whispered to him.
Worthless.
Just a toy.
A way to entertain in the cold, lonely nights.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and cursed his weakened condition. The fight against the demon was still echoing in his mind, as well as the conviction that it had been Tatsumi who had had to save him.
There was a soft hooting and he smiled dimly. 003 was peering at him, worried, disturbed, her feathers fluffed to make her bigger. Watari had no strength to talk to his companion, to cheer her up.
Little one, the voice of the dead creature still whispered. Who do you think you are? Nothing. Nothing at all. Your powers are laughable.
Watari groaned and rolled on his side, trying to ignore the echoes, but it was increasingly hard to do so.
003 fluttered down from her perch, hopping onto the mattress, small round eyes looking at him. Watari didn't see her, didn't hear her.
He and Tatsumi had been together for just over a month now and their relationship was… intense. Physically, especially. Sex was incredible, the need quite palpaple in both men, and Tatsumi had shown quite an unexpected amount of passion. He could sweep Watari off his feet, could overrun him with his hunger for the younger man, and when they ended up in bed, Watari forgot all but the man making love to him.
It wasn't any better the other way around, he mused. We're hopeless.
He chuckled sadly.
Yeah. Hopeless.
Like me.
I fell in love with the man. But am I really more to him than a way to sate the need, the hunger? He went without a partner since his death… what if he couldn't control the craving any longer and I was handy?
Those acidic thoughts churned in his mind and he felt himself falling – falling apart.
He didn't hear his owl's soft, distressed calls.

A day later Watari was up and about, had already paid his lab a visit, and while he still limped and his wrist was bandaged – the bones were mending – the cheerful nature was back in place. In a way he was no better than Tsuzuki. He hid his pain and guilt and shame behind a façade. Even in front of his lover, who had picked him up in the hospital ward. The haunting dreams and nightmares of last night were locked away by the smiles, but they still existed and they hadn't been dealt with.
By tomorrow even the limp would be gone as his healing powers were fully up to speed, but he would take it easy for the rest of the week. No more missions. Then again, his sector was truly quiet, so there wasn't even much shuffling around.

Tatsumi was keeping an eye on the slender man as they made their way into the apartment Watari called his own. It was an airy, spacey place, with high windows, cream colored walls, a wooden floor, and more open space than anyone could have suspected. Watari's lab was cramped, he was piling work high on his desk, and sometimes it was complete chaos. The first time Tatsumi had been here he had thought to be in the wrong place.
As the door closed after them, Watari turned and slipped his arms around the taller man's waist, closing the distance. Nimble fingers pulled off the thin glasses, pushing his own up to sit on his head.
"Weekend," he murmured and kissed the other.
Tatsumi was only too happy to reply, feeling the familiar form so flush against him, feeling his body react to the sheer prospect of more than just a kiss.
"Our weekend," the blond added with a grin.
"Definitely our weekend." Blue eyes relayed desire and Watari dove in for a kiss again.
Tatsumi let his hands slide underneath the loose sweater, touching once again healed skin, smooth and warm against his palms. Watari pushed a knee between his legs, becoming more demanding, and Tatsumi's touch grew more intimate. Hot gasps met, breaths mingling, and two pairs of fired up eyes sparked as they met.
"Bedroom," Tatsumi said hoarsely.

He let his fingers glide over the still lightly marred skin. Marred not by scars but lingering bruises. It were the remainders of his severe injuries and would be soon gone. Tatsumi kissed and licked at the hot skin, careful not to hurt his lover, feeling Watari's hands in his hair, pushing him south to where his lover wanted him the most.
"Slow down, Taka," he whispered, looking at the flushed face, the bright eyes. "We have time."
"Need you now," the blond groaned.
"You have me."
And I won't let you go again now that I do. Took me long enough anyway.
Tatsumi resumed his slow seduction, listening to each moan and exclamation, smiling as the body underneath his hands seemed to melt into his every touch. Watari was a very responsive man and a whirlwind in bed. Tatsumi had been overwhelmed the first time they had slept together.
"Seii!" the blond demanded. "Please!"
He silenced the plea with a kiss, leaving Watari breathless and panting. "All in due time, love," he murmured against the flushed skin. "All in due time."
"You're killing me!"
"Well, figuring you're already dead…"
A growl answered him. "Figuring I'll kill you if you don't stop teasing and get going…!"
Tatsumi laughed, stroking the slender form, delighting in the moan of approval. "Taka," he whispered.
Golden eyes seemed to glow, seemed to pull him in, devour him, and he did the same.

The lab was quiet and dark, the blinds drawn shut, the electronics shut off, the lights turned down so only a faint glow radiated from the ceiling. A small owl was sitting on his shoulder, silent, radiating as much worry as a bird could. 003 had kept him company like a leech lately, never leaving hima lone, and he was infinitely gratefuly for it, but she couldn't solve his problems.
Watari was back, he was healed, and he had resumed work. Just like everyone else. Watari Yutaka, always smiling and cheerful scientist, doctor and shinigami. Golden eyes gazed into the mirror that hung over the sink in his lab, then dropped. He couldn't even face himself.
Failure.
What was he? He was no scientist. An engineer who had been killed and now worked as an angel of death. He was tinkering with things he had no clue of, but he had been doing it for close to thirty years now. He was good with computers, granted.
Watari snorted. So were the Gushoshin. They could run a search program just as well as him. Big deal.
His visits to the world of the living were nothing grand. He liked Kyoto and Osaka. He liked going back to the places he knew, but anyone else could do it just as well.
So that left his work in the lab, which was, aside from the odd case-related research, a way to follow his passion. He loved experimenting. But it had no value.
Watari looked around the place he called home and spent most of his time in, smiling sadly. No value at all… but maybe he could make it valuable. Maybe he could find something helpful because otherwise, even as a stand-in medic, he was worthless.
The memory of the cold touch of the demon came back and he clenched his hands into fists.
He could do something worthwhile. He could…