NB: Crack is whack, and I really thought I was done writing it. Clearly, I was wrong. You don't have to read this, but if you do, keep in mind that this could have been the series of Hirato/Akari/Tsukitachi Round Table messages that I almost wrote.
Also, I've no real medical knowledge, so suspension of scientific acuity is requisite, okay?
This is for requi, who loves it when Akari wins. This is a subtle win, I think. But it's a win nevertheless.
Akari wants to record this. He refrains because keeping a visual memento of another's humiliation is a deed worthy of Hirato. And the doctor is nothing like the brunet; his own cruelty is far more straightforward.
Hirato is… well, he's downright loopy - to the extent that he can be thus, naturally. Only a lover would notice the slight glassiness of the commander's rhinestone eyes and the barest trace of uncharacteristic languor in the square of his shoulders.
Circus' field teams have returned from a veritable warzone, leaving many injured and Research Tower short of blood. As a result, the physician has been inordinately busy, besieged by surgeries and now a blood drive. In fact, between missions and emergencies, he'd not seen the shifty-eyed devil in weeks before Hirato arrives to donate. To say that he's surprised by the Second Captain's sudden commitment to humanitarianism is a rather weighty understatement. He's considering the motivations likely to precipitate such a demonstration of altruism when he perceives tell-tale signs of the other's facade slipping.
Akari is the one smirking mischievously now. "Thank you, captain. Honestly, I didn't think you cared."
"Too callous, doctor. Of course I care." Hirato sighs incredulously, as though his interlocutor is somehow daft. "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"You're here for me?" The blond is almost moved. Almost.
"Who else?"
"The field teams, perhaps."
"Yes, them too. But they're not nearly as beautiful as you."
That's exceedingly honest, even for a mildly anemic Hirato. An appraising ruby gaze regards the collection bag. Something's wrong.
"What's so interesting about blood?" the brunet huffs, clearly displeased at having lost the physician's attention. He's being... petulant, maybe? Akari would be stunned if he weren't otherwise preoccupied. "Doubtless you've seen plenty."
"I'm amazed that manipulative bastards bleed red."
"So cold. Even after all I've endured today."
Pieces click into place after that. The researcher rubs his temples frustratedly, apprehending the absurd lengths that his manipulative bastard has traveled to appear before him, to have his blood drawn by Akari instead of one of the several others taking donations. He chides himself for overlooking something so obvious. "You idiot. I don't want to know how you contrived this. Just tell me how often." He resolves to berate his staff for such negligence, although he suspects they're but partially at fault. Hirato likely bears the larger burden on that score.
"Relax. This is only the second time." Following an iota of hesitation: "It was worth it."
"You're not invincible, you know." Akari leans over him to stop the bloodflow. The commander - unsatisfied with mere proximity - sits up in an attempt to kiss the blond. Disequilibrium overcomes him and he misses. Widely.
And because he's not quite as cruel as anyone's imagined, Akari bites back his laughter and kisses Hirato instead. "I missed you too."