Notes: This was a birthday ficlet for the lovely Ranma! And no, I'm not two months late, I just decided to post this after she prodded me to. :)

Dedicated to Ranma

By Misty

The Great Fever/Hangover Incident

Blip, blip, blip—boom! Zip, zip, zing, hisssssss—

Kai furrowed his brows and shifted in bed with an irritated moan, keeping his eyes shut against the light streaming in through the window. It sounded as if someone were waging a war in his bedroom, a war complete with spaceships and laser guns, or whatever the hell that damnable zapping sound was. He moaned again and turned on his side, pulling the sheets over his head. It was loud and annoying and for some reason everything seemed louder and more annoying than usual. His squeezed his eyes tightly closed and realized that his head was throbbing, his body was aching, and he couldn't breathe properly through his nose.

"Haha! Gotcha, sucker!"

Kai slowly opened his eyes underneath his sheet-tent and after listening to another series of tinny blipping noises, he sneezed. Then he groaned loudly, because it felt as if his head had just exploded.

"Kai?" The noises stopped and he took a deep breath, reveling in the silence despite his throbbing head. The sheets were pulled down and Kai growled softly, trying to shield his eyes from the sun, which was obviously an evil that was bent on blinding his already aching eyes.

"What?" he grumbled, attempting to burrow into his pillow. He felt a hand pressing his shoulder down so he couldn't hide his face and then another one pushing his bangs aside to rest on his forehead. For a minute he was still, for the hand was cool and felt quite nice.

"You're not as warm as before. Ha, I'm a better doctor than I thought!"

Kai certainly felt much too warm and at the same time too chilly, but finally he cracked his eyes open and focused blearily on none other than Tyson Kinomiya. Of course. Who else would be making such a racket in his room?

"What are you doing here?" Kai asked grouchily, still foggy with sleep. Tyson took his hand away and leaned down for a moment before straightening with an armful of the fluffy comforter that Kai must have kicked off sometime in his fitful sleep.

"You don't remember last night?" Tyson walked over to Kai's chair and dropped the downy mass into it. Kai frowned. Chairs were for sitting, not for discarded bedding.

"No."

"Really? You don't? Well, in that case, here's what happened: we went clubbing, I got you drunk off your ass, you went onstage and embarrassed yourself by singing some really bad karaoke, and then we rented a hotel room and made mad love to each other, which involved some rope, handcuffs, and a whip."

Kai paused for a minute, processing what he had heard. "And then you brought me back here?"

"Uh… yeah," Tyson said, nodding quickly. "I figured you wouldn't be too happy waking up tied to the bedposts, so I drove you home and tucked you in and kissed you goodnight."

"Uh-huh. That's real cute, Tyson. Now stop bullshitting me and tell me what really happened."

Tyson plopped down on the floor with a grin and picked up his videogame controller—so that was what was making that horrid noise!—before continuing. "We went out to dinner and then took a walk afterwards, and of course it rained right in the middle of our stroll, but we didn't care so we got wet. You said something about kissing in the rain being horribly romantic."

"I did not," Kai objected. "I'd never say something stupid like that."

"Did so."

"Well, then, it was your fault—you probably made me drink too much."

"Alcohol seems to bring out the true you," Tyson crooned. "The mushy romantic."

Kai sat up and promptly sneezed before he could get his retort out. He rubbed his nose and scowled, then sneezed again. He said something in a half-mumble, half-moan as he pulled the sheets up and slipped back down in his bed, giving Tyson the evil eye.

"You got me sick," he complained, then gestured with a finger. "Why'd you bring that crap in here?"

"Crap?" Tyson spluttered. "You're calling my PS2 crap? God, Kai, you wound me."

"It's noisy. Have you no respect for the ill?"

"You know, I think I liked you better last night when you were all drunk and cute and stuck on kissing in the rain."

"I'm sick and I have a hangover," Kai lamented. "And you're an idiot."

"Hangovers aren't so bad, just drink some more alcohol and you'll be fine."

"If that's the way you fix hangovers, you'll be drunk for the rest of your life." Kai buried himself under the covers, sniffing pathetically and cursing his stuffy nose. He half-expected his good-for-nothing boyfriend to resume playing his mindless video games, but instead he felt a hand poking at the sheets. Kai lowered them slightly and peered out, his face set in a frown.

"Is widdle Kai-ee-wai-ee feeling sicky-wicky?" Tyson asked innocently in baby talk. He was kneeling at Kai's beside and all Kai could see was his head staring at him with enormous coppery eyes.

"Why aren't you sick?" he asked crabbily.

"I have something called an immune system. It works really well when you don't lock yourself in your office at all hours of the day—and night!—and try to live off coffee," he scolded lightly, then his eyes lit up. "I know! I'll make you soup."

"Oh, please don't," Kai moaned, picturing his kitchen in flames. Tyson had already trotted off, oblivious to Kai's severe apprehension. Kai heard him rummaging through the pots and pans and apparently picking the heaviest one he could find, for it landed on the stovetop with a huge bang. Kai pondered pulling the sheets over his head again and simply attempting sleep in a blissfully ignorant state, but knowing that Tyson was about to cook in his kitchen made it impossible to do that.

And so, Kai dragged himself out of bed and trudged toward the kitchen.

"What are you doing up? You're supposed to get plenty of rest," Tyson admonished, tearing through the cabinets in search of noodles. Kai made a face.

"Stop it, you're making a mess."

"I haven't started yet, Kai." Tyson spoke as if he were speaking to a slow child. "If I could just find where you keep the noodles… and those little bullion cubes…"

"Don't try to cook," Kai sighed. "I don't have time to find a new place to live."

"For your information, I can cook!"

"Okay, but how about you try when my head doesn't feel like someone sat on it?"

Tyson glanced at him and took in the wretched look on his face. "Well…" He came over and put his arms around him, and Kai promptly snuggled his face into his warm shoulder. "You need me more than you need soup."

Kai said something unintelligible and allowed himself to be dragged further into the kitchen. He lifted his head when he heard Tyson groping around the cabinet again.

"Aha! This Tylenol stuff really works," he said, holding up a bottle of thick, blue liquid. Kai stared.

"Tyson, I haven't taken liquid medicine since I was six. You must have left that here."

"You're taking this. It'll be good for your cold and it has cool burst sensation!" Tyson unscrewed the top and poured a tablespoon into a metal spoon, then made airplane noises as he flew it around Kai's face. When it finally reached Kai's mouth, he gagged and nearly hacked up a lung.

"That is disgusting!"

"It's medicine, what'd you expect? One more." Tyson prepared to pour again but Kai ran out of the kitchen like the devil was after him. "Hey!" He dropped the spoon into the sink and followed him. "You only have half of what you need to get better!"

Kai was about to go to the bathroom and stick a finger down his throat to rid himself of the vile medicine he had just taken, but Tyson steered him away and rested his arms on his shoulders to keep him in place. Kai gave him a sound glare, but it faded slightly when Tyson wrinkled his nose in a grin.

"You're so crazy when you're sick."

"I only get crazy when you give me horrible concoctions and claim they'll make me better!" Kai shot back, then stopped when Tyson brought his face close and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. Kai's eyes slid shut and his annoyance dissipated for the most part when Tyson's tongue slipped into his mouth and roamed in a not so subtle way. Kai's hands tightened around Tyson's waist as they kissed. He was already feeling lightheaded due to his wretched fever/hangover, and when they finally broke apart, it took a moment for Tyson's face to come into focus.

"Ugh," Tyson said unappreciatively, grimacing dramatically. "That medicine does taste terrible."

"Suffer more," Kai said, pulling him back and capturing his lips again.

THE END