A/N: Part of a Halloween project I assigned myself for fun: one monster/human one-shot a week in October. :D

Graveyard Shift

Okuyasu stares up at the unfamiliar ceiling. An array of stark white tiles that look like more of a muted blue-grey in the dark. Thin curtains aren't doing much to keep the nighttime out, the soft glow of the moon mixing with lights from town to seep in and illuminate this space.

…Either that, or Okuyasu's just gotten real used to the dark, he's been lying here so long. He refuses to glance at the clock. It's probably slow, anyway. Never seemed to change much when he was bothering to check it – but that might have more to do with the fact that he can't sleep to save his life, right now. He's no good with unfamiliar beds. Which is a damn shame, because he's tired.

Slowly – mindful of cracked ribs – Okuyasu takes a deep breath. Lets it out twice as slow. Blinks lazily at switched-off fluorescent lights overhead; they're not much more interesting than the ceiling they're inlaid in.

There's nothing else to do, though. Nothing to look at.

He's got a TV in his fancy private room, sure, but he's supposed to be sleeping. And he doesn't wanna disturb the other patients by turning it on so suddenly after midnight.

Ugh. Another deep breath only brings the too-sterile scent of hospital. For the thousandth time Okuyasu reminds himself that he's lucky he can breathe on his own. Doesn't need a hissing respirator like his dad does…did. Like his dad did.

…

Shit. Now Okuyasu's eyes are stinging and his throat hurts, on top of everything else.

That was the last time he was in a hospital, before this accident. When his dad was transferred from hospice to the hospital proper, during his last days fighting that mysterious illness. A battle he lost –

It's okay. That was years ago. This has nothing to do with that. Okuyasu is okay, the memories aren't so bad.

…Keicho's always telling him he cries too easily…

Lifting an arm – the one not in a cast – Okuyasu scrubs beneath his eyes, gauze scraping rough at his skin. He's only been here a day and he's already starting to hate this stupid paper bracelet that identifies him. Stupid IVs. Stupid cast on his arm, brace on his knee, stinging cuts sore beneath bandages all over, stitches in more places than he's ever had before total – the whole thing sucks. Something homesick curls in his gut and he hears Keicho's voice in his head telling him not to be such a baby.

Okuyasu just wants to sleep, and it's the one thing he can't do. He drags his eyes toward the call button at the side of his bed, wondering vaguely if the nurses would give him some kind of sedative.

He fights with himself on the merits of pressing that button for so long – maybe someone kind would answer, maybe they'd be cranky, maybe he'd wake someone else up with any resulting racket, maybe anything would be worth it if he could only get some rest – that when the door to his room opens, he jumps, startled out of his head.

The heart monitor gives him away, green line going all jagged – and he glances toward the door, looking –

…Can't stop looking. All of a sudden.

"Sorry," the guy who just let himself into Okuyasu's room says, hands up in a placating gesture. One of his fingers is curled around the handled lid of a clear container. It swings a bit with the motion, dark shapes inside shifting with water – but that's not what Okuyasu is staring at. Not at all what's caught his attention. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Okuyasu says on automatic, because it is. It is so fine. Beyond fine. This guy that has to be the night nurse is – beyond fine.

He's tall, with a pretty face. Soft lips stretched on half a sheepish grin, thick perfectly-arched eyebrows, eyes that seem to glitter in the dark. Broad shoulders and a trim waist. Hips that make Okuyasu want to see him from behind – ah, shit, Okuyasu's face feels all warm now – and the best damn hair in the business. (This, Okuyasu knows for a fact, after meeting a plethora of staff. Even that scary day nurse with her long beachy waves has nothing on this guy.)

"I thought you'd be asleep," sexy night nurse continues. He darts deeper into the room, over toward that generic chest of drawers that Okuyasu hates; it adds no character to the room. "I'm Josuke," the nurse introduces himself distractedly. He's too busy setting down that strange container with haste. Shaking out his hand afterward, wiping his palm on his scrubs.

Ah. Okuyasu's eyes drop of their own accord. Downward from long, elegant fingers. Because the nurse – Josuke has turned around and, hah, yeah, Okuyasu can appreciate this view, too. Wishes he could sit up easier on his own so –

Wait – what the hell is he doing? Ogling the nurse?

That's creepy as fuck! Not at all how a proper patient should behave…

His cheeks way-too-hot now, Okuyasu averts his eyes, aiming to look anywhere else but at the poor man just doing his job. Okuyasu's gotta maintain some kind of decency, here. Be more polite and respectful and all. He doesn't want to come across as a total asshole! Not in the face of someone like this.

…But Josuke's just got this alluring pull to him. Okuyasu can't help it! Winds up watching the span of those shoulders instead, no matter how he tries to drag his gaze away.

"Sorry to barge in like this, Okuyasu."

The sound of Okuyasu's name on Josuke's tongue is weirdly intoxicating. Okuyasu decides he'll blame an unholy combination of pain meds and natural exhaustion for that, along with the way he can't stop staring. He's meeting Josuke's eyes before he knows it. Following the handsome slope of his nose to those plush lips.

That sheepish grin pulls into a grimace as Okuyasu watches, and Josuke jerks a thumb at the dark shapes in the water jug. "I can only carry those things for so long, they give me the creeps – thought I'd check on you while taking 'em back. Didn't mean to wake you up…"

Okuyasu blinks. Clears away any brain fog and tries to focus on the present. Keep his wandering mind from doing any awful fantasizing, or some other mortifying shit like that. It's better, this way. Living in the moment right now is pretty damn swell.

Because Josuke is a much easier sight on the eyes than the ceiling, and Okuyasu is almost positive this beautiful man is trying to make something like casual conversation with him.

The sort of thing that never happens to Okuyasu.

A response would be nice, in that case.

Clearing his throat, he can't come up with anything in the end. Except to state the obvious. "Y'didn't wake me up. I couldn't sleep, anyways." His voice comes out even rougher than usual. Quieter, too. But at least it comes. And Josuke is nodding in a sympathetic sort of way, probably on the cusp of saying something kindhearted – but Okuyasu's curiosity cuts in, still scrambling for proper conversation that won't delve into his silly troubles. "What are those?"

He's pointing to the clear container. Movement inside of it keeps catching his eye, even with Josuke dominating his attention so thoroughly. It looks kinda like a bizarre water bottle, that container, only squatter and fatter with super questionable contents.

Josuke glances over his shoulder at it, and is grimacing in earnest when he looks back. "Leeches," he says, a shiver trembling down his spine.

At that, Okuyasu's nose scrunches. "…Leeches?"

Tight-lipped, Josuke takes a step away from where the leeches sit. Sure does seem like they give him the creeps. "Leeches," he confirms with a nod. "I'm no good with creepy crawly things, but they're technically my coworkers."

Squinting at the container in the dark, Okuyasu can't say he's fond of the little guys either. Too…wiggly. "Those aren't for me, are they?"

"Oh, no – they're for a patient down the hall. No worries, man!"

Thank goodness. "They suck blood, right?"

For some reason, that gets a funny sort of grin out of Josuke. "The least dangerous creature that does," he says, which is…kind of a strange response. In Okuyasu's opinion. Especially the way Josuke says it, something about the tone of his voice. Then again, it could just be the late-night gloom of this hospital doing that, making Okuyasu perceive stuff all wrong…he's not too bright, after all…

And Josuke is far too stunning to be strange.

"The most professional, too," Josuke tacks on, in a clearer joke than his previous statement. His smile is ten different flavors of dazzling. The closer he gets, the more detail Okuyasu can spot on him. There's a tiny faint scar below his eye.

And he's wearing earrings. Little shimmery studs. That light purple gemstone that Okuyasu can never remember the name of.

They…suit him.

Okuyasu's mouth is pretty dry, all of a sudden. He swallows to try and fix it, but it doesn't really work.

He's probably still blushing. His fingers shift on their own to adjust the tilt of his bed so that he's propped toward sitting; somehow that feels more appropriate, right now. It's a move that makes his ribs twinge and his stomach hurt – he had some kind of internal bleeding they had to curb, or maybe something to clear away, he's foggy on details – but the shift is worth it to be able to look Josuke in the eye.

The nurse in question is stopped at Okuyasu's bedside. Overwhelming proximity that's threatening to make the heart monitor go wild again.

That kissable mouth is set in an easy line, and Josuke's posture is comfortable, one hip cocked. "Since you're awake, I'll go ahead and change your bandages, okay?"

Ah.

So. The unfairly attractive night nurse is going to touch Okuyasu, huh?

"…Okay." What else can he say?

Josuke nods to himself, promptly reaches for the square of gauze on Okuyasu's forehead before Okuyasu can even begin to mentally prepare for this shit –

Then, blessedly, Josuke pauses. His fingers are centimeters from skin that's already starting to work up a nice nervous sweat. Haha. How embarrassing…

"Guess I better turn the lights up, huh?" Josuke says, with another sheepish grin. And, man, Okuyasu forgot to even notice the darkness of the room, he was so caught up in everything that is Josuke.

Josuke, who's now rubbing at the back of his neck, chuckling awkward at himself as he backtracks to the light switches by the door. He turns half of them on, leaving the space just bright enough that Okuyasu has to squint until his eyesight adjusts.

And…there's Josuke. In all his dazzling glory with his expensive shoes and purple scrubs and richer than the sky eyes. He's back across the room just like that. Poking at monitors for vitals and shining lights in Okuyasu's eyes and asking for things like Okuyasu's name and birthdate and location to make sure his concussion is still okay.

Bandages are next. Those are worse. Way more overwhelming – because – well – Josuke's hands…

They're a little cold, as doctors' hands tend to be, but they're so gentle that Okuyasu can't even begin to care. Deft fingers brace against his skin before peeling at the taped edge of the bandage on Okuyasu's head, slow and careful.

This…isn't the sort of thing that should give someone goosebumps. Okuyasu doesn't think.

Here he is anyway, though. Sweating cold like he's sick. Hair standing up down the back of his neck. Shivers threatening to tremble down his spine and butterflies running amok in his belly.

Josuke's touch is inescapable. Refusing to focus on it is no use. Those careful hands tread especially light on the bit of bandage that's taped to the poor, unevenly shaved portion of Okuyasu's head. An action that was necessary so they could get all the staples in, the doctor said.

That's kinda depressing. Remembering the shitty state of his hair, especially in comparison to Josuke's immaculate pompadour. Makes Okuyasu want to shrink in on himself, some.

(It's just as well, probably. Okuyasu's sure he'd look awful even if he could've kept all his hair.

Which makes this encounter with Josuke even more mortifying.)

Cheeks hot, Okuyasu winces as Josuke tips his head into the light to get a look at the garish wound. It's a reaction that's more from that impossibly kind touch than anything like pain – but Josuke murmurs out an apology anyway. Voice as gentle as his hands. Okuyasu stammers some kind of response. His eyes are glued to Josuke's mouth and his heart is pounding its way up his throat.

At this distance, Josuke is…a whole lot more to take in.

He smells real nice. Clean, like the rest of this place, but with some kind of fresh, personal scent that's more comforting than sterile. It's a soft thing. Okuyasu breathes deep to catch more of it. His eyelids flutter as Josuke tapes the new bandage down.

Shit like this shouldn't feel so good, should it…?

"I'll need your shirt off for these next ones," Josuke says –

And Okuyasu's face heats to boiling.

A reaction that's maybe okay, because Josuke's cheeks go dusted pink, too, and, huh, at this distance (and in this lighting) Okuyasu can spot bags under Josuke's eyes. There's also a sallow sort of tint to his skin, pale like he's maybe not feeling his best – but. They don't really detract from his beauty. Just kind of make Okuyasu want to…try and take care of him…somehow…

Man. As if he could do that.

Now is not at all the time to ponder shit like that, anyway. Considering Josuke is about to see Okuyasu topless.

"If – if that's okay?" Josuke kind-of stammers. Awkward like his laugh earlier in a way that's just so endearing on him. Much more adorable than Okuyasu's clunky brand of embarrassed fumbling.

What's Josuke got to be embarrassed about, in this scenario? He must see tons of naked people daily – and, shit, this ain't even naked. Not even close. Just shirtless – and oh, hell, Okuyasu's been working out but he's still kinda soft around his middle, where Josuke's going to be touching, with those kind hands of his, meanwhile, Josuke himself is all perfectly sculpted with that trim waist – pretty muscle everywhere –

"That's –" Okuyasu swallows, but his mouth does him no favors. Just stays uncooperatively dry. Clumsy, too. "That's fine!" he says, too fast and too bright. Undeniably making this weird when it's got no reason to be.

Josuke is just doing his job!

Hell…

A nod of confirmation from Josuke. The set to his pompadour is so ironclad that it barely bounces.

Everything about him is perfect. What is Okuyasu thinking?

Butterflies all feral his stomach and his heart fluttering sick with the lightweight feel of a crush…as if he stands any kind of chance with someone like this…shit, that hurts to think about. But Okuyasu's got a weakness for smooth faces and soft hands. Things he doesn't have…

Aw, hell. No good thinking about it now. He's gotta – take his shirt off. Get these bandages changed. Maybe his heart'll wear itself out with all its pounding and he'll be able to get some sleep after this?

(Not likely.)

Getting undressed with one arm in a cast is a little bit difficult, it turns out, even if his shirt is a button up thing, and Okuyasu fights with the stiff cotton for a minute before – before Josuke's wonderful hands swoop in to help. Oh man. Okuyasu will never survive. Stilted at first, it takes Josuke a couple of tries to grasp fabric, but he manages it – and, oh, he sure is close. Leaned in so tight that Okuyasu can smell fancy hair gel, his own hands fumbling for a minute under the cool feel of Josuke's fingertips atop his own on the buttons. Right over his chest –

Then it's over. Just like that.

Okuyasu's shirt is buttoned the whole way down with expert care, his arms guided through sleeves by practiced fingers.

…Being undressed by beautiful strangers is not at all something that Okuyasu was prepared for tonight. Or ever. See, he's never experienced anything even close to this ever in his life. It doesn't help that Josuke is moving awfully slow. Hesitating like that. With hovering hands and cheeks that are looking a little pinker than before.

Whatever any of that means.

Okuyasu is probably imagining things, in this dim lighting.

He's got the urge to fold his arms over his stomach to try and hide it, but problem is, there are bandages there. And this pesky cast on his arm. So he sits here. All exposed to those crystalline eyes that sure aren't looking away…not at all helping to soothe Okuyasu's fraying nerves…

"Um." Josuke's gaze flickers toward Okuyasu's face, catching and holding his attention (as if it had ever been lost) as Josuke continues. "I'll be quick. Promise."

To that, Okuyasu almost lets slip some kind of mortifying response like 'take your time' or some shit – but he catches himself in the nick of time. Bites his tongue and does a nice proper nod. Caught between caring and not giving a damn over how long this'll take. Prolonged attention from Josuke could go either way. Good or bad. Mortifying or the best thing that's ever happened to Okuyasu.

Both of those at once, probably.

Those hands start their diligent work without further ado. Expertly unwinding expertly-wound bandages, exposing more of Okuyasu's skin and its collection of gruesome scrapes, stitches, and bruises. Not his best look. Especially with his chubby belly on full display. And his soft chest.

Josuke…doesn't seem to mind. Again, Okuyasu reminds himself that Josuke has undoubtedly seen much worse, in this line of work, considering those leeches over there. But…well.

Okuyasu is still. Flustered. Over this.

Give him a break – it's hard not to be!

The way that Josuke's eyes keep straying from their task, darting to other places on Okuyasu's body – his chest arms shoulders hands legs face then back to his stomach – is kind of distracting. More than kind of, maybe. The tips of Josuke's ears look flushed too, now, as he's peeling away the last of the bandages. Getting a good look at Okuyasu in all his grungy hospitalized glory.

Again, Josuke pauses, after disposing of the old bandages. He's checking Okuyasu's wounds, soft, cool fingers prodding super careful at the edges of each one. Despite how sore Okuyasu is, that tickles, a little. He does his best to sit still, ignoring the goosebumps.

Fingertips tracing the outskirts of a bruise on Okuyasu's ribcage, Josuke mumbles, "That was some accident you were in." Dazzling indigo eyes meet Okuyasu's, steely serious. Captivating. "You're lucky, y'know? It could've been a lot worse, swerving into traffic like that."

Ah, shit. Okuyasu's cheeks sure aren't tired of flushing hot like this. He averts his gaze, and picks at a loose thread at the edge of his blanket. "…Well," he mumbles, "I had to swerve so I wouldn't hit that squirrel…"

It's the kind of thing that's a pathetic reason to the rest of the world, he's sure. Keicho definitely didn't understand it, chewing Okuyasu out for being so reckless the second the anesthesia started wearing off (which was kinda surreal, but that's not the point). Because now they're just gonna have medical bills to worry about, and Keicho is sure that the squirrel would've darted away in time – but Okuyasu wouldn't have been able to stomach it if it hadn't.

So he stands by his recklessness. Just this once, he's glad he didn't use his head.

…It didn't turn out so bad. He doesn't think.

Oddly, Josuke is frozen in the middle of reaching for a fresh roll of gauze, hand outstretched. His eyes are fixed on squarely Okuyasu's face, watching him. Some kind of expression Okuyasu can't read.

For whatever reason, it makes his stomach squirm with extra butterflies. Heats his cheeks even more.

"…What?" he mutters, when he can't take it anymore. Shifting where he sits like that's going to quell any of his feelings. All it does is aggravate his ribs, and his tender stomach. Even pulls weird at his knee.

"Nothing, man. Nothing at all."

Josuke's mouth stretches into a crooked smile that looks…debonair, is the term, Okuyasu thinks. Playful? Hot is the word he wants to use. This is an expression that shows off straight white teeth. Canines that seem unusually sharp – but it's not like Okuyasu really looks at teeth all that much, so maybe it's normal. His own aren't really a good comparison.

"You just…" Here, Josuke ducks his head. Hides the way that dashing grin wobbles as he bends to wind bandages around Okuyasu with practiced care. "You seem like a real special guy, is all."

Oh man. Okuyasu's blushing even more, now. His face is on fire. Heart all palpitating – this can't be healthy, but at least he's already in a hospital. Monitor spelling out these weird fluctuations plainly. Josuke has to notice. Has to think Okuyasu is some kind of special indeed. "Y-yeah, my brother says so all the time," he manages to mumble with a short, self-deprecating laugh.

The whole bandaging thing is taking Josuke a long time, considering he keeps stopping like this. This time, his fingertips brush Okuyasu's bare shoulder, and Okuyasu is startled into eye contact.

Perfectly arched eyebrows dipped low, Josuke says, voice all soft, "That's not what I meant."

"O-oh?"

Those fingers on Okuyasu's shoulder are an overwhelming distraction – a sensation that seems to spread to Josuke, who lets his hand migrate downward a bit – gliding over Okuyasu's skin – before he retracts. Clears his throat. Talks more, spouting off increasingly impossible words.

"I only meant that you're a decent person, y'know? A nice guy, with a good heart…" Josuke's high cheekbones are dusted pink in an odd contrast to those subtle bags under his eyes. He focuses back on his work. Devotes all of his attention to those bandages as Okuyasu's heart trembles into pieces, his eyes stinging. "People like you are hard to come by."

That last part is said without eye contact, but it doesn't hit any less genuine. Okuyasu would pinch himself to check if this was a dream if there weren't already more than enough sore spots on his body.

Never mind the attentive hands of this mysterious night nurse that bring all kinds of sensations. More goosebumps up Okuyasu's arms. A tickling down the back of his spine that's wholly pleasant. Little twinges of pain as wounds are aggravated by gentle care.

…Josuke himself is dreamlike. He's got this otherworldly sort of quality to him.

Okuyasu doesn't know what to say.

"Especially these days," is all he comes up with. A sad attempt at a lighthearted joke – but it's easier than accepting praise that he's pretty sure he doesn't fully deserve. All he did was crash his motorcycle so his reckless driving wouldn't result in the death of a cute fuzzy squirrel. Just. Normal shit. Anyone else would've done the same.

But Josuke is shaking his head, huffing out a humorless laugh. "Nah, man. Good people have always been rare."

That's said way too casually. Like Josuke is speaking from experience.

All of a sudden, Okuyasu is ravenously curious. He wonders about Josuke's past, his present. If he has a big family or a whole lot of friends or whether or not people bullied him in high school. He looks like the sort that was popular with girls. Probably does have lots of friends. Not like Okuyasu. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Why the hell would it matter?

But Okuyasu is stuck staring at that odd expression on Josuke's face as he bandages Okuyasu's wounds and the pain starts to ebb and more than anything he wants to know this guy. As strong an urge as Okuyasu's ever had. Bizarre and probably the fault of painkillers or Josuke's stunning beauty or something.

It's genuine enough for him to want to act on. Wishing he had just that much more charm to himself.

Fuck's sake, he can't exactly just blurt out tell me everything about yourself, here! It has to be whatever's in this IV, putting shitty ideas like those in Okuyasu's head. Chatting up beautiful strangers is another thing that he just doesn't do. Because it wouldn't work.

…At least…those few times he's worked up the courage and tried, he hasn't been super successful. His track record isn't so great. He's got no natural allure to him – not like Josuke does.

Those steady hands are fastening Okuyasu's latest bandage, taping it careful the side of his abdomen. Josuke's head is angled in. Again, Okuyasu catches a whiff of that hair gel, and something like intoxicating cologne. If nurses are allowed to wear that kind of thing. Maybe Josuke just smells nice naturally. He's probably the type that would. Or it could be his body wash. Deodorant, even.

When Josuke straightens back up, he aims a little smile at Okuyasu. Looks kind of wan, and a little tired – and –

Okuyasu is talking before he can stop himself.

"Thanks for patching me up," is what he says. Altogether stupid, because that shit is Josuke's job. The only reason he's here! Okuyasu's mouth disregards his embarrassment and plows on without his consent, even as Josuke's grin tweaks wider. "You – you seem kinda tired." Okuyasu swallows his jittering heart. No going back now. "You okay?"

That smile of Josuke's is bright and warm. Cozy against the harsh starkness of this bland hospital room. "This is what too many graveyard shifts in a row will do to you," he says on a laugh, pointing at his own face.

Ah. It just figures that Josuke's is the contagious kind of laugh that gets Okuyasu chuckling along. A sound so beautiful that he wants to curl up in it and stay there a while. "Guess so." He only barely manages to keep from saying that Josuke is still the prettiest person Okuyasu has ever seen, bags under his eyes and too-white tint to his skin or no.

Lucky for him, Josuke might not notice this latest blush. Busy gathering up a square of gauze to tape over Okuyasu's shoulder wound as he is…

Shit. Okuyasu swallows hard. Tries not to stare at strong forearms and doesn't manage it. Grasps at conversational straws yet again, because that's apparently all he can do, tonight. "Are you always on night shift?"

"Oh yeah. I'd never survive if I had to work during the day." Josuke falters a bit, his fingers paused on Okuyasu's skin. He only stays like that for a moment, though. Rights himself soon enough. Was probably just checking his work, or something. "I've always been something like a night owl," he adds.

Huh. Okuyasu's always been an early bird. Wonder if they'd be compatible, after all – oh, dammit, stupid brain – it doesn't matter. That's irrelevant! Okuyasu will not hit on the pretty night nurse! He'll keep up casual, normal conversation. Small talk.

"Do you live nearby, at least?" Night shift with a long commute would be the pits.

Josuke hums while smoothing down medical tape. His fingers seem to trail extra-far down Okuyasu's bicep – but maybe he's just double-checking some stitches. "Not far," Josuke answers –

And then, before Okuyasu can even dream of carrying on with their normal chat –

"Do you need help putting your shirt on?"

Josuke says that.

Hah. Okuyasu is thrown for a giant loop here. His brain is rebooting. Give him a second while that computes.

There's some tiny reassurance in the fact that Josuke is back to looking pink in the cheeks. Just the littlest bit. Makes Okuyasu feel better about his cherry red face. Even if it does nothing to help how his hammering pulse is laid plain on the heart monitor, betraying him to the entire room.

"If –"

"Probably," Okuyasu blurts out, cutting off whatever backtrack Josuke was gonna offer. "I think so." It's ill-advised, yeah, and probably inappropriate, to be taking advantage like this – but. He can't resist it. The chance to get those soothing hands back on him…

Shit like this doesn't happen to him every day. He's a decent guy, really. Give him a break!

Cheeks sucked in and lips pursed on a ruffled sort of pout, Josuke nods. He lets out a breath like he was holding it. "Yeah. Probably best, huh?"

"Y-yeah!"

Josuke reaches for the shirt, open and loose at Okuyasu's elbow, caught on the IVs. Slowly, he lifts it up Okuyasu's arms, settling it on his shoulders and leaving more of those traitorous goosebumps erupting over Okuyasu's skin. Pleasant warmth in his belly. Then Josuke's deft fingers are at the shirt's collar, knuckles brushing Okuyasu's throat, starting at the second button and working downward from there. Fastening it closed.

The. The bottommost button is awful close to Okuyasu's groin. Haha.

He tries not to think about it. Staring at smooth hairless fingers tipped in buffed-shiny nails.

"There," Josuke announces when he's finished. He brushes imaginary dust off of Okuyasu's shoulder.

It's all Okuyasu can do to manage a shaky sort of smile. The quiet, "Thanks," he lets out saps even more effort. (Nowhere near enough to wear him out, though – there's no way he can sleep after all of this…)

As with everything else about Josuke, this latest small smile is so blinding it almost hurts. Lifts the mood of the room significantly, and sets off a fresh swarm of butterflies in Okuyasu's stomach. (Don't they ever get tired, at least?) "No sweat, man," Josuke says, complete with a thumbs-up. "If you need anything else, hit the call button. I'm on duty until sunrise."

Man – Okuyasu will very likely be awake until long past then – he's thoroughly distracted by the way Josuke's going flustered, again. Sheepish and ducking his head, for reasons that Okuyasu can't fathom, turning to leave after grabbing those leeches –

And, oh, hell. Okuyasu is still reeling from the concept of calling for Josuke and only Josuke. Josuke flat out suggested that Okuyasu call him. If he needs anything. Didn't say that any old nurse would come, whoever was available. Made a point of telling Okuyasu when his shift ends. So that Okuyasu can hit the call button and ask for Josuke. Specifically Josuke. Nobody else. Josuke.

Ah, man. Fuck.

Okuyasu really, really doesn't want Josuke to leave. He won't have the strength to call him back.

"Wait!"

Alright. That sounded more desperate than Okuyasu meant it to. But at least it gets Josuke to pause at the door, half-turned around and tilting his head. "What is it?"

Great question. What does Okuyasu need? 'Any reason for Josuke to stick around a bit longer' isn't a proper answer…and neither is, 'I love your company, please don't leave me to the lonely dark of this shitty generic room to contemplate life because I ain't good at thinking and you're easy on the eyes'.

One of Josuke's manicured hands is frozen hovering above the light switch – and ah, that's right! There is a reason!

"Can you, um, get me something to help me sleep?" This is Okuyasu's most ridiculous crush yet. He shouldn't be blushing from a simple question like this. Something about sleep and Josuke in implied relation to each other set him off. "I'm no good in unfamiliar beds…" Now it's his turn to go sheepish. Chuckling all awkward-like.

Josuke blinks. And then he nods. Slowly. "Sure," he says, after a heartbeat, mouth twitching on a smile.

Thank goodness – Okuyasu can't believe this isn't blowing up in his face. Professional guise is a godsend. Patient-nurse relations. Yeah. "Thanks…"

Again, Josuke nods, and makes the motions to leave. He even slides the door partially open and presses a fingertip down on the light switch, dimming the room the tiniest bit so that one of the faulty bulbs starts to flicker.

But then he goes frozen again. Just stands there, like that, for a minute.

Something about that level of stillness is unnatural. Makes Okuyasu's stomach go all giddy.

Barely moving himself outside of his fingers, Josuke…pushes the door back shut. His hands stay lingering where they are, though, as he turns just slightly. Looks over his shoulder. Right into Okuyasu's eyes, who finds he can't look away. He's stuck watching the way that Josuke's teeth sink into his plump bottom lip.

That's funny. There's…there's static where Okuyasu's thoughts should be. His heart is in his throat and it doesn't budge no matter how hard he swallows.

Josuke's lip pops free of his teeth. His voice is low, and his eyelashes are fluttering, glancing Okuyasu up and down before recapturing eye contact. "I could…give you my secret personalized cure for insomnia. If you want."

Oh.

Stomach leaping and mouth dry and heart pounding away in his throat, Okuyasu nods. Doesn't bother to think.

Can't believe his luck. Stays locked in anticipation as Josuke ditches the leeches and comes in close.

He sits down careful on Okuyasu's bed. Right up next to him, and angled in. More than close enough to touch. The cool of his skin creeps across the tiny gap between them, and Okuyasu shivers reflexively, tilting in on automatic toward the feel of Josuke right there. Just waiting for contact that's inevitable at this rate – shit, when Josuke leans closer, his nose scuffs along Okuyasu's cheek, tracing a chilled sort of line all the way back toward his ear. Okuyasu shivers.

Just that tiny brush of contact has him gulping back a whimper. He's – he doesn't get touched like this. People don't touch him like this.

Beautiful nurses with hands so gentle they soothe wounds do not press their well-trained fingertips to Okuyasu's jaw. They don't tip his head to the side. Or tilt in like that. They definitely don't rest their pillow-soft lips to the thundering of Okuyasu's pulse point, nose digging into his skin as they breathe deep.

It's – oh, hell, it's so surreal. Okuyasu can't speak. Can't think.

He doesn't want to think. Not with Josuke mouthing at his neck. Soft clean scent of him all around.

Fingertips skimming down the opposite side of Okuyasu's throat, splaying over his collarbone, dipping into his shirt while Josuke kisses that spot beneath the corner of Okuyasu's jaw.

Yeah. Shit. He's…fucked.

Considering the gymnastics that his innards are doing, Okuyasu will have no trouble at all sleeping after this. Will be thoroughly exhausted. The green jagged line of his heartbeat on the monitor is going crazy, jolting up and down like one of those machines that measures earthquakes or whatever.

Josuke has to feel the frantic pulse. Pressed to his lips. Against his hot-wet-soft tongue when he opens his mouth to suck –

There's a pinch, then. On Okuyasu's neck.

A brief flash of pain from what have to be Josuke's teeth, only they feel a whole lot sharper than they looked, so much that Okuyasu swears they puncture his skin – and Josuke is latched on, now.

Plush lips work around razorlike teeth, massaging and suckling and marking. There's no way they're not leaving a mark, there's too much feeling, too much sensation, overwhelming Okuyasu and making him go all lightheaded. He'd fall right over, he thinks, if only Josuke didn't sidle closer. Cool hand shifting to cradle Okuyasu's head at the perfect tilt that gives Josuke unimpeded access to his pulse point. One arm wrapping tight around his waist. Twinging bruises in a way that's not as unpleasant as it maybe should be.

Distantly, Okuyasu recognizes that this isn't normal. It's not something that should be going down in a hospital – or maybe at all.

But the dimmed flickering lights overhead aren't enough to pull him out of this any more than that distant worry is. No one'll walk in. Josuke is the one on duty for this ward. It's fine.

It doesn't hurt, not anymore. Nothing hurts. Not even Okuyasu's poor concussed brain.

His heavy eyelids droop closed, and he can't help the soft groan he lets out. Can't help reaching for Josuke. Curling his hand around a bent knee and squeezing at the flex of muscle and bone – wanting more but not sure if he's allowed –

A sharp gasp, and Josuke pulls back with a too-wet noise.

In his absence, Okuyasu's neck feels all strange. Kind of chilled in the air, with a dull throbbing in the spot where Josuke's mouth was. And there's something hot trickling down the side of his throat, too. None of it is entirely unpleasant. Kind of feels like a hickey…only a whole lot more intense…

Urgh, Okuyasu's head is thick and soupy, any thoughts turned to molasses. He blinks reluctant eyelids open, and it takes his sight a handful of seconds to refocus.

"Oh my god," Josuke is, retracting his gentle-cold hands and scooting away from Okuyasu, further down the bed, turning to face him proper. "Holy shit – I'm so sorry. Fuck, what's wrong with me?" He presses a palm to his forehead, just beneath the jut of his pompadour, and bites his bottom lip again, staring at Okuyasu with purple eyes that are…strangely alight. In the dim of this room. Black pupils blown wide.

But none of that is as out of place as the red smeared over his mouth. A familiar bright shade. Just a hint of it on the insides of his lips and between his teeth – those canines look sharper than before – until he sucks it away. Swipes it all clean with his too-red tongue.

He's also breathing kinda heavy. "I'm so sorry," he repeats, dropping his hand from his face. "I didn't mean to – shit…"

Dully, Okuyasu lifts his fingers and presses them to that throbbing bruise at the side of his neck. Rubs them through the trail of whatever's dribbling ticklish and wet down his skin.

When he brings his fingertips down in front of his face to look at, they're stained the same red as Josuke's mouth was. Slippery-thick blood going tacky and brown the longer Okuyasu blinks at it in a daze.

"Hey, Okuyasu, you with me?" Josuke's voice trembles a little, with that, so Okuyasu drags his eyes up to meet those fiery indigo ones, and gives a slow, belated nod. Because he could understand those words, and figures that probably counts as being 'with Josuke'. All of Josuke's breath leaves him on a rattling sigh in response, his shoulders slumping. "Good." Another short pause, and then, "I really am so sorry, man, I shouldn't have bit you like that – it's just, I haven't fed in so long, and I – shit, that's no excuse…"

A deep, huffing breath from Josuke. He rubs at his forehead again. Drags that same hand down his face. Glares off to the side at nothing.

Unbidden, the word vampire floats through Okuyasu's brain.

Ah. So that's what this is. Dots connecting themselves…lining up Josuke's oddities…his 'working the day shift would kill me'…and all the rest of it…

"I don't usually lose control like that. It's just – you smell so good, Oku – fuck, that's not an excuse, either, but I just – I'm so, so sorry. I'll leave, I'll relocate again, please don't freak out, I won't kill you or turn you or anything – I shouldn't even have tasted you – dammit…"

Josuke's plush mouth dips into a grumpy pout. Then he gnaws on his lip again. Is scooting toward the far edge of the mattress. Won't meet Okuyasu's eyes anymore, which is a shame – but no matter how Okuyasu tries to sit up he feels weirdly weak. Can't get his thick tongue to cooperate, can't quell his racing thoughts, can't even lift a finger to reach for Josuke.

(He doesn't bother wondering why he wants to do that so badly. He likes Josuke. That's enough.)

"I can't pay you to keep quiet or nothin', still trying to pay off my last stint at med school, but I can probably arrange to –"

Finally Okuyasu convinces his body to move; tipping forward, he latches onto Josuke's wrist. Loops his bloodied fingers around it and leaves them there, successfully cutting off Josuke's little rant and keeping him here on the bed. Within reach.

Lips pressed into a quivering line, Josuke just watches.

At least he doesn't try to reclaim his hand. Or leave.

In the still silence that follows, Okuyasu does his best to collect himself. His brain is slow at the best of times, and he's far from his best, right now. He's been given one too many shocks in the past twenty-four hours, between his accident and now. Smacking into that bus. Going under for surgery. Meeting this sexy night nurse. Discovering said sexy night nurse also happens to be a vampire…

A vampire who's…into Okuyasu. Or his blood, if nothing else. But that bite was kinda…undeniably intimate in a way that's got Okuyasu's insides all scrambled.

It takes him a good few minutes to work out that the scrambled-insides feeling is excitement. Want.

Okuyasu liked that. A lot.

He squeezes Josuke's wrist and mutters, "It's fine."

"But –"

Shaking his head, Okuyasu cuts Josuke off yet again. He scoots forward on the bed, closer to Josuke. His injuries barely hurt anymore. Wonder if Josuke's got some kind of magical vampire healing abilities. Is that a thing? Okuyasu hopes to get to know Josuke well enough to ask whether that's a thing. "You caught me by surprise is all," is what he says for now, seeking out eye contact, offering a quick grin.

Josuke's eyes blink wide. His mouth presses together so tight that his pink lips go white. "You mean you…didn't hate that…?"

"Nah." Okuyasu shrugs. "Felt kinda weird, but it didn't really hurt, so…"

"Dude," Josuke deadpans.

Eyebrows furrowed, Okuyasu just keeps staring at him.

"I just drank your blood."

…Now Okuyasu is even more confused. He knows that's what just happened, why's Josuke bothering to point out the obvious like that? Frowning Okuyasu waits for more words of explanation. When they don't come, he figures he oughta fill the silence. "So? Ain't that how vampires survive?"

It's not like Okuyasu is super worse for wear, now, and he wouldn't want someone like Josuke to starve…

There's silence for a minute. Apparently, it's Josuke's turn to just keep staring. The weight of his gaze makes Okuyasu's cheeks warm, again, and he thinks of that mouth on his neck. Cool fingers stroking his skin. Plush lips and clean scent and soothed aches.

And then Josuke surges forward and shoves his soft-cold mouth to Okuyasu's.

Holy shit is it a lot. Okuyasu's brain goes fuzzy again, and his body reacts belatedly – but at least he reacts at all. Leaning into the contact and tasting the copper tang of blood on Josuke, when those lips shift to go staggered with his. They pull back only to push in. A tongue licks into Okuyasu's mouth, traces the flat of his teeth and he groans, tilting his head with it, relishing in the fingernails that scrape up the back of his head. Josuke's weight shifting closer.

The best kiss Okuyasu's ever had, hands down.

He hasn't had a whole lot, to be fair. But none of the others made him short circuit like this. None of them made his heart leap so high in his chest.

When their mouths part for good, Josuke lingers for a few heartbeats. His lips are trembling and slick, almost ticklish, resting featherlight against Okuyasu's as they are. His breath is cool and oddly sweet where it brushes across Okuyasu's cheeks.

Kind of weird. He's never thought about whether vampires would need to breathe or not. Apparently Josuke does?

…Maybe it's presumptuous – definitely feels very bold, more than Okuyasu should be daring for – but he leans forward to steal a couple more little kisses that set off delighted sparks in his gut when Josuke returns them. Tiny bits of contact. With this vampire night nurse who drank his blood.

What a night. This is the best time Okuyasu has ever had in a hospital.

This is the best time he's ever had period.

(Not that his past life experiences are tough to beat.)

Josuke topples forward a bit, his cheek bumping Okuyasu's. Man, his skin is so soft. Seems like a crime, to have it brushing against the rough scarring that Okuyasu has, but Josuke is the one murmuring out a mystified sort of, "Oh man…"

"Yeah," Okuyasu whispers. He wound an arm around Josuke's waist at some point. Squeezes him in a hug, now. Voices the first thought that hits. "You can, um, drink all you need, you know. I don't mind."

There's a low groan from Josuke – a noise that starts a hotter brand of sparks dancing low in Okuyasu's stomach – and his head drops further. This time, his forehead lands on Okuyasu's shoulder (with care, though, so that glorious pompadour doesn't get smushed). "Don't say that shit," he mutters.

"Why not? I trust you," when Okuyasu says this, Josuke's fingers grasp tight to his shirt, "and you seem like a great guy. You've devoted your life…um, undeath," – is that proper, polite terminology? – "to caring for others." Which is pretty damn admirable, if you ask Okuyasu. Very carefully, he touches the back of Josuke's head. The gentlest pat he's got in him. "Nobody who wanted to kill would do that."

It's simple, see?

That's what Okuyasu thinks, at least, but Josuke is all frozen again. Lifts himself up slowly. Leaves his hands tangled in Okuyasu's shirt. His plush lips are swollen from kissing. Not bloodstained anymore.

Long dark eyelashes flutter as Josuke blinks, then blinks twice more. He's watching Okuyasu as if he's searching for something. Eyes that peel through to the heart of Okuyasu – which is thankfully a short journey, but Okuyasu just kinda hopes that even if he's not complex, he's enough to hold Josuke's interest. To pass whatever sort of test this might be. Because he still wants to learn everything there is to know about Josuke…and it turns out he's got plenty of time to do so…

"If…if you're sure," Josuke says eventually. Halting and dubious.

"Yeah, man – if…" Okuyasu swallows. He can't help but notice that Josuke's eyes follow the bob of his throat. "If you maybe wanna go out, sometime…? Or not – I just – wanna talk to you – and – and stuff –"

Real suave, Okuyasu. This is why you can't pick anyone up no matter how much you like them.

Shit his butterflies are ravenous, heart fluttering like crazy…

But. Josuke is. Smiling.

It's. It's a soft, fond thing. The kind that Okuyasu's only seen on TV or in movies, before. That pinkish tint is back to Josuke's unblemished cheeks, and his eyebags aren't so dark anymore. "I'd like that."

Sitting up straighter, Okuyasu feels more energized than he has in weeks. "Great!" he chirps. "I'll even drive, once I get my bike fixed…" Which might be a while, because he does all his own repairs and needs both hands and some spare cash for that – but it's a promise that's got Josuke smiling more. So Okuyasu tips his head and bares his throat and says, "But for now, take what you need, 'cause you got patients to look after – right?"

Josuke huffs out a charming little laugh, ducking his head. "You're ridiculous, man…"

"So're you – c'mon, you don't have all night!"

A shake of his head, and then Josuke is scooting back in close, until he's right up next to Okuyasu. He hesitates, which only further reaffirms Okuyasu's theory that he's a good person who just happens to need to drink blood to get by. No biggie.

Chewing on his lip (something that Okuyasu would love to do for him someday – actually got the chance to do, mere minutes ago – holy hell –) Josuke says, "Are you absolutely sure that –"

"Yeah, Josuke, it's fine! I can take it!" Because that sounds better than admitting how good it felt. How much it made Okuyasu want to melt into an aroused puddle. "I was hit by a bus, remember?"

Another of those cute, contagious laughs –

And this time, when Josuke's teeth sink into Okuyasu's neck, they do so slowly. With gentle intent. Plush lips suck at the spot to soothe it and then those fangs slip in deep and Okuyasu moans, lets his eyes roll back and fall shut, grabbing at Josuke with his unbroken arm.

When he sags boneless onto his pillows, Josuke goes with him, easing the fall. Mouth still at work. Kissing, now…Josuke's soft lips pressing to Okuyasu's temple, and then those staples in his head…

Before he knows it, he's fast asleep.

A/N: (Don't worry, Okuyasu lives and has a drop-dead sexy vampire boyfriend for all eternity,)

Thanks for reading!