Author's note:

This story would not exist but for the creative mind of my friend RiddleAfar. I sent her a prompt about Yuki caring for Kyo, and she responded with essentially a full story outline. It was so good, I had to write the story out, so this present work is basically a collaboration. I hope you enjoy.

"I blame you for this, damn rat." Kyo glared at him from bed, though the menace in his expression was undercut by the runny nose and watery eyes.

Yuki sighed. "I'm sorry for getting sick earlier, but I probably already passed the virus on to you before I knew I was sick in the first place, so you surely can't blame me for that, kittenbutt."

Kyo's baleful expression indicated that, yes, he actually could blame him for that. "Don't call me cute names when I'm mad. You shoulda been more careful, working with germ factories like that."

"The word you're looking for is 'children', and need I remind you, honeylips, that you work with children as well?"

"Yeah, but during the cold season, we always wear masks in the dojo. That's a rule I insist on."

"It's very hard for me to diagnose speech problems while the subject is wearing a mask, angelpants."

"Then you should've gotten a different job."

"One of those jobs where I never get sick because I never encounter another person? Shepherd, lighthouse keeper, hermit?"

"Yeah."

"Are you always this unreasonable when you get a cold, or is this a special occasion?"

"Don't know."

"Why not?"

"Can't remember the last time I had a cold." Kyo growled. "I hate this!"

"You've never had a cold before?"

"Probably have, but I don't remember." Kyo blew his nose.

Yuki smiled slyly. "They say that idiots don't catch cold, so now we have proof for all time that Kyo not-the-stupid-cat Sohma is not an idiot. Shall I call you 'Genius cat' from now on?"

"Shut up," but the corners of his mouth pricked up. He frowned again when his stomach grumbled.

"How about some food?

"Yeah. Maybe just some plain rice. One of the prepackaged ones is fine. Just heat it up in the microwave."

"How about instead of instant rice, I cook some instead."

"Because the rice cooker died last week and we haven't bought a replacement yet."

"I know, but I was thinking of cooking rice on the stove. The old-fashioned way."

"Have you ever done that before?"

"No, never."

"Then I don't want you to. Don't try doing new stuff in the kitchen if I'm not there."

Yuki gave Kyo some slack for being sick, but the lack of trust in his domestic capabilities did hurt a bit. "All right then. Microwaved rice it is."

Yuki had felt utterly pathetic watching Kyo eating the miserable instant rice from the plastic container it came in.

The kitchen may have been the domain where Kyo ruled, but Yuki knew he could appeal to a higher authority.

"Tohru, so good to talk to you. Listen, the reason I called is that Kyo is under the weather today."

"Yes, that's what you said in your text message."

"And I have a request–I hope it's not too much of an imposition."

"You know I'd do anything I could for you, Yuki. I'm just not sure how much I can do at this moment."

"Would it be possible for you to make some of your rice porridge for Kyo?"

"What? But in your text message you said you wanted me to send you a recipe for rice porridge. Did you change your mind?"

"Oh, thank you. I'll arrange for a courier service to pick it up from your house."

"But I didn't agree to… I mean, I would if I could but… the four of us are already at the airport. There's no way I could possibly–Oh, I guess I could take a later flight. Maybe tomorrow. Momiji will understand. I'll ask him right now…"

"Wait, listen!" Yuki hurriedly whispered into the phone. "I just said all that so that Kyo would overhear it. If he knew it was my rice porridge, he'd never eat it. But if he thinks it's yours…"

"Oh, I see," Tohru whispered back. "You're trying to be sneaky. I understand now."

"You're a lifesaver, Tohru. I'll book the courier for an hour from now," Yuki said loudly before switching to sotto voce. "Tohru, you don't have to whisper. Kyo can't hear you either way."

"Oh, I see. Sorry, I forget."

"Don't worry about it. So can you talk me through the recipe?"

"Yes. The cooking part is very simple. You'll need 100 grams of rice."

"How much is 100 grams of rice?"

"100 grams is… 100 grams. Isn't there a scale in the kitchen?"

"I think I remember seeing a scale, now that you mention it. Usually Kyo is the one who does the measuring out when I'm in the kitchen with him." Yuki quietly rummaged through some cabinets.

"What's your job in the kitchen?"

"Mostly peeling vegetables and washing dishes." He pulled out a small kitchen scale. "Found it!"

"Good. Now do you know where the rice is?"

"Yes!"

"Good. And you might as well get the rest of the equipment out now. Please look for a large bowl, a clay cooking pot, a liquid measuring cup, and some instant dashi powder."

"Tohru, you're whispering again."

"Sorry."

Tohru guided Yuki through washing the rice until the water ran clear, and soaking it in the clay pot. Then, while waiting for the rice to finish soaking, she helped him prepare garnishes to go with the porridge.

"He still dislikes them?"

"I'm afraid so, though at this point I suspect it may be more stubbornness than actually disliking them."

"Either way, I think you should chop up some scallions and chives for yourself."

"But this is for Kyo."

"The recipe you're making is a double batch. I thought you could eat it with him. Food shared tastes sweeter."

Yuki's chest felt tight and he couldn't help smiling. Tohru was the personification of warmth and family. "I suppose so."

"And some shredded nori and sesame seeds. A bit of salted fish. And pickled plums of course."

"Of course." Kyo had shared Tohru's analogy with him. "I can see yours right now."

"Silly. So I think the rice has soaked long enough by now. Drain all the water, and as soon as you've done that, add 500 milliliters of water and about two spoons of the dashi powder."

"Right."

"Now turn the gas to high…" Her voice cut off as she was speaking to someone on her end. "Sorry, apparently, I have to turn my phone off now."

A chill ran down Yuki's back. "You can't! I'm not done yet!"

"Oh, but I have to. We're about to take off!"

"How long is your flight?"

"It's a direct flight, so only twelve hours."

The porridge could not wait for twelve hours. "In the next thirty seconds, tell me everything I need to do."

"Let it boil, turn the heat down when it does, stir it once, then cover. Just carefully read the recipe I sent and… Oh, I'm sorry, stewardess-san, I'll finish very soon: this is a love emergency… follow the recipe and cook with love in your heart!"

"I wish you were cooking it."

"Don't. I'm happy that you are. Be confident, Yuki. I love you and tell Kyo I love him too."

It was done. The garnishes were set on a pair of plates because Yuki couldn't find the small bowls. Even Yuki's inexpert eye could tell that the scallions weren't chopped as evenly as when Kyo put them in miso soup, but that was fine. The scallions weren't going into Kyo's porridge anyway. He put the plates, the serving bowls, and the pot of porridge on a tray and carried it to the bedroom.

"Kyo–are you okay with having lunch?"

"Yeah," he grunted and started to get out of bed.

"No, wait, you don't have to get up!"

"I'm not so sick that I can't even get out of bed." He knelt down next to where Yuki set the tray. "Tohru made this, right?"

"Oh," Yuki chuckled, "you heard that? I was going to let you believe that I bought takeout congee from the Chinese place and then surprise you."

"Didn't fool me," Kyo chuckled as he watched Yuki fill a bowl for him. "Delivery must have cost a fortune."

"It's only money. Besides, I owe you for passing the cold onto you in the first place. Want anything on it?"

"You know I don't actually blame you for that, right? I was just being a grouch. Some nori and salted salmon, please. And a pickled plum, of course."

"Of course." Yuki added the garnishes. "I've lived with you long enough to know when you're grouchy. And I've heard that it's okay to complain sometimes."

He handed the bowl over and watched carefully as Kyo took a big spoonful. Yuki hoped it wasn't obvious he was holding his breath.

"Good," Kyo murmured, almost under his breath. Yuki smiled. He had pulled it off. He had prepared food for Kyo without hands-on supervision, and it was edible. Good, even. He took a spoonful from his own bowl. Blander than he was expecting. He winced when he remembered he hadn't salted to taste as Tohru had recommended in her preparation instructions. Still–it was perfectly palatable. And with some chives, actually fairly tasty.

"A little mushier than usual," Kyo remarked.

"Oh? Funny of her to make a mistake like that. Maybe she was distracted with something." 'Sorry for slandering you, Tohru,' Yuki thought.

"Still good though. It's not perfect, but I can taste the love."

Yuki closed his eyes and smiled. He was sorry for his partner being sick, but for him, it was one of the best days that had ever happened.

Kyo looked straight at him. "You sure it's from Tohru, though?"

"Of-of course! Doesn't it taste like hers?"

"It does taste pretty similar to hers. Just that–wasn't she flying to Germany with Momiji and the kids today?"

Yuki's face reddened slightly. "The flight got cancelled! Bad news for them, but good news for you, right?"

"That's strange. Because Momiji texted me a picture of the four of them on the plane."

"Uh-"

"And then Tohru texted me that she hoped I'd enjoy the porridge you were cooking for me."

In the ensuing silence, Kyo ate another spoonful and smirked.

Yuki sighed. "How the hell did she ever manage to keep the curse secret? She didn't even need to lie, she just had to stop herself from contacting you." He threw up his hands in bemusement. "That's what I get for expecting her to be dishonest." He gave Kyo a tired look. "You knew this whole time?"

"From the beginning, really. You sounded so fake when I overheard you talking on the phone that I knew something was up. You used the same voice Ayame uses when he says he's happy to see me."

"So, what do you really think about the porridge, then?"

"A bit overcooked. A lot underseasoned. And I can taste the love."

Yuki was filled with a joyful irritation. "When did you get so good at flustering me, cat?"

"When I realized how much I enjoy seeing you flustered, mouse." His smile faded. "You thought you had to lie to me to get you to eat your cooking. I'm ashamed I made you feel that way."

Yuki's instinct was to tell him no, that Kyo had been justified. That Yuki had been just that hapless enough in the past. Instead, he reached over and ruffled Kyo's hair and smiled. "I won't lie again. And don't feel ashamed. Get better instead."

After a quick wipe of his eyes, Kyo set his bowl back on the tray. "Now, you do know what the basis of mastering anything is, right?"

"Practice, shishou."

"Practice. Make this again for dinner, but a bit better. Watch the texture and don't forget the salt."

Kyo hadn't had dinner that evening. His fever had gone up slightly and he'd developed a sinus headache. Yuki put the second batch of porridge in the refrigerator.

In the early winter's darkness, Yuki watched his lover's fitful rest.

Kyo had always been the healthy one. It had always been Kyo who nagged Yuki about fitness and eating right and getting plenty of sleep.

It seemed genuinely perverse to look at Kyo now. Shivering in his hoodie and sweatpants, Sweating, so tired, so weak. So vulnerable.

Kyo was always so independent. So capable. He could do anything. And he didn't even know how amazing he was.

And it was up to Yuki, who was incompetent at everything domestic to take care of him?

No. To hell with those thoughts. He might not be as good as Kyo in running a home right now, but he was improving. He was going to learn to care for those he loved.

He got in bed next to Kyo, slipping under the covers quickly so as not to lose too much heat.

"Kyo, are you awake?" he whispered.

There was a quiet affirmative grunt from the other half of the bed.

Yuki softly rubbed Kyo's back. "Are you certain there isn't anything I can get you?"

"Not now. If I can eat tomorrow morning, you can warm up the rice porridge."

"Did you really like it?"

"For a first try, it wasn't bad. Yeah."

Yuki felt a tingle. "Okay. I'll put plenty of chives and scallions on them. Those are supposed to be good for colds. Maybe your fever wouldn't have gone up if you had put them on your portion."

"You say something like to a dying man?"

Yuki chuckled quietly. "Have a good sleep. I'm here if you need anything."

"Okay." Effortfully, he turned over in bed and faced him. "Hey, Yuki?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Yuki reached for Kyo's hand and took it in his. He slowly drew it up to his face and kissed the knuckles. "I love you, too."

He'd die for Kyo's sake. He'd kill for Kyo's sake.

And god help him, he'd learn to cook for Kyo's sake.

The bedroom was lit with the orange sunrise. During the night, winds from the west had cleared the sky. There would be no snow today, but it was still very cold out of doors.

Yuki reached over to Kyo's half of the bed and felt his forehead. The fever had broken during the night and Kyo's skin was cool again. He slipped over to him and rested his arm on Kyo's chest. He felt Kyo's beating heart as if it were in his palm.

Waking up together was a kind of miracle. Even when they had disagreed or argued the night before, in the morning those troubles dissipated, like clouds in high winds. The sight of Kyo asleep and breathing peacefully was almost the best thing he could imagine.

Almost.

"I'm going to raise a family with this man," he said quietly.

Author's notes:

I feel like Tohru would make her own dashi, but I think it's more likely for Kyo to use powdered, and certainly making dashi from scratch would be a bridge too far for Yuki.

Originally, I was going to have Kyo maintain that he had never had a cold before, but then I remembered in canon that he had, as a throwaway joke at the end of the Haru introduction arc.

This story is the seventh part of my ongoing Yuki/Kyo series "When I Grow Up." It's quite enjoyable seeing how this world unfolds. Before this story, I hadn't decided on a specific profession for Yuki, but speech therapist seemed very fitting for him. And I guess Tohru and Momiji have two children.

This particular story takes place in December 2010. And I plan on writing more stories in this series.

Thank you for reading.