Title: Babysitter
Author/Artist: stressbeertje
Pairing: Hatori Sohma/Ayame Sohma
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Theme: Challenge 22: Cradle /揺り籠

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket or its characters.

Babysitter

Days later, Ayame was still not feeling better.

Hatori was plagued with the unfamiliar feeling of guilt, which made his day consist out of quite a bit of firsts.

For example, this was the first time he had ever spent a complete night at Ayame's bedside.

It was also the first time he had sat by Ayame and was allowed to watch his face relax. Hatori was amazed at how easy it seemed for the corners of Ayame's lips to relax in a more natural smile.

The most interesting first time for Hatori was the fact that he felt a strange feeling in his lower abdomen when he saw Ayame shivering and panting under his fever. Hatori had to force himself to not feel the man's forehead for it would wake him up and disturb the healing process of his body.

However, it was the second time Hatori was torn between wanting to protect someone, and then the other feeling he did not want to admit to himself.

Kana.

It had been this protective feeling that had forced Hatori to carry the slender man back to his own apartment in the middle of the night. Shigure had been fussing about Ayame too much in Hatori's point of view.

Instead, he grabbed the stuffed snake Ayame had once given him when they had been children, and gave it back to Ayame. His cheeks had been flushed and his eyes had lost their twinkle at that moment, so Hatori hoped he had intervened the Snake's abysmal sleeping patterns in time. He pushed the stuffed animal in Ayame's arms and pressed on the man's shoulder, forcing him to lie down on the sofa.

"Here, go sleep with this. It will do you good. I will make you some soup if you want."

Ayame's breath hitched, clutching his suspiciously un-ragged snake close. His own stuffed seahorse he had made himself without Hatori's knowledge had been prone to falling apart a few times now, but Ayame kept fixing it.

Only after Hatori had repeated his offer did Ayame shake his head. "No, that's okay, 'Tori-san! I just want to go back to Gure-san! Why did you take me away from my lovely Gure-san?" Ayame forced himself to sound cheerful, even though he now felt more awful than he had done before coming here.

"Ayame." The doctor sighed. Why did the Snake have to be so stubborn all the time?

"You are unwell. You need your rest and energy, and you know perfectly well that you only spend energy around Shigure." Hatori flicked off the switch in the room without waiting for Ayame's consent, allowing darkness and shadows to reign over the room.

"I've been unwell for a long time, Tori-san." Ayame whispered softly. The darkness of the room made the meaning of the sentence even louder than it already was. Hatori had a sudden urge to flick the light switch back on, desperate to see Ayame's face showing a smile, his eyes twinkling in mirth. Instead, he walked to the sofa he had placed Ayame on and sat down next to the Snake. In the last few days it had become their new ritual.

"That's not my fault." Hatori said after a long pause, equally quiet. In spite of his somewhat standoffish words, he wrapped his arms around the small waist of the man, the skin of which practically lit up under the moonlight that entered through the window.

"I'm not blaming you, Hatori." was the muffled reply. It's my own fault was left unsaid, though both men understood it as loudly as they heard their whispers. Ayame had buried his face into the dusty stuffed animal in an attempt to hide the trembling in his voice.

Hatori tightened his grasp around Ayame's waist, not knowing what else he could do or say to make it better. This was a problem he could not cure, not even with everything he knew about the human anatomy. Inwardly, he cursed. He was supposed to look out for Ayame, to protect him. That was his role to Ayame. He was Ayame's babysitter. Nothing more. It was not proper, it was forbidden, it could not be and was never supposed to be. Then why couldn't he stop thinking about it?

Long after the silence that followed, Hatori's grasp slipped faintly and his breathing deepened, breathing in Ayame's neck. In his sleep, the Dragon buried his face in the vanilla aroma of the silver locks in front of him.

Ayame survived the night, but barely. Hatori's arms held the pale man close, who in turn clutched his dusty shrine of Dragon-worship, kissing the stuffed snake softly.

It was then that Ayame decided that being cradled by your babysitter was the worst feeling in the world.