Chapter 9: Remote Possibilities: Egoist

The Uke Flu

Chapter Nine: Remote Possibilities

Hiroki made his stir fry and then turned the heat down to low. He warmed up the rice and the other dishes and was setting the table when he heard the bedroom door open behind him.

"Hiro-san?" Nowaki's sleepy voice drifted down the hall.

Hiroki turned with the smart quip on his lips he'd planned to shoot at Nowaki for having to make dinner, but stopped when he saw him. Nowaki was leaning against the wall of the hallway, using it to prop himself up. His color was not good and his dark eyes were troubled.

Hiroki's first response, his initial impulse, was to rush over and sweep Nowaki onto the couch, to shower him with cold compresses and hot tea: Nowaki looked that ill. But he was bombarded by these kinds of embarrassing and overly emotional urges all the time and had learned long ago how to shut these sorts of ridiculous inclinations down. So instead he just stood at the table frowning.

"You okay, Nowaki? You look unwell."

"No, I'm fine, just tired I think," Nowaki lied. Then seeing the table he cringed. "I'm so sorry, Hiro-san. I know it's my week to make dinner. I was going to do it… but then I fell asleep. "

"It's okay, Nowaki." Then, not wanting to seem too agreeable, Hiroki growled, "you still practically made the dinner anyway since it's mostly leftovers. All I did was add some more vegetables."

Nowaki in his fragile state was hard pressed not to get weepy at how kind Hiro-san was being towards him. He felt the other man's concerned scrutiny and decided the best way to escape this was to duck into the bathroom. There, he washed his face and ran a comb through his shaggy black hair.

Once he felt slightly more composed, Nowaki re-entered the main room.

Hiroki was setting the food out on the table. The fare was simple enough, but this was the time Nowaki was usually getting ready to start his day. Recently, this was also the time when his morning sickness started kicking in.

The smell of the food was already starting to make him feel more ill. Nowaki just hoped he could make it through dinner.

Then he saw the open book lying face down next to Hiroki's place setting. Nowaki felt a sense of relief rush over him.

Hiroki had the long established habit of reading something almost any time that he sat down and meals were no exception. It had not been uncommon for them therefore to eat their meals in relative silence. Nowaki had learned early on, it was useless to try and talk with Hiro-san when he was reading: the man simply just couldn't track a conversation.

Their therapist had encouraged Hiroki to change this pattern and make meals a time for the couple to be together and engage in meaningful conversation, but old habits died hard. If Hiro-san started reading, Nowaki knew he would become invisible, which is just what he wanted right now.

After sitting down together, Hiroki served himself and Nowaki filled his own plate.

After they offered the usual quick blessing, Hiroki picked up the novel he'd been reading. Then, suddenly feeling guilty, he glanced over the top of his book at his uncomfortable lover sitting across from him. He sighed and reluctantly set the text to the side.

"Sorry, Nowaki, I forgot." Then his brow furrowed as he looked at Nowaki's plate. "Is that all you're eating?" The giant's portions were miniscule.

"Look, Nowaki…" Hiroki's ego started to get the best of him. "I'm sorry it's just leftovers, if that isn't what you wanted to eat. Anyway, it wasn't even my night to cook."

Nowaki looked up meekly from his plate. "No, Hiro-san, please, I'm the one that's sorry. It isn't anything like that. Really, the food is great. I'm just not hungry."

"Well, you should eat something. You have to go to work later. Right? You need to make sure that you have enough energy for your shift, especially since you've been so tired lately." As he heard these words leave his mouth, Hiroki grimaced and wondered at exactly what point he had turned into his mother.

He corrected for this mortifying realization by quickly adding, "But if you don't want to eat now, that's fine. I don't care. Do whatever you want. You can always pack something up and take it to work with you later."

Nowaki lowered his eyes about halfway through Hiroki's mild rant. He looked dejectedly at his plate, pushing his tiny portions around with his chopsticks. "Ah," he began hesitantly, "I'm not going to work tonight, Hiro-san. I called and asked Senpai to cover for me. He owes me a bunch anyway, so he said he'd do it."

Hiroki eyed his partner with increasing concern; he was seriously worried now. Nowaki never missed work. Normally, even if he'd been hit by a bus, the man would have tried to drag himself to the hospital for his shift.

Suddenly, Nowaki pushed himself up from the table. His face had gone ashen.

"Nowaki?" Hiroki was deeply alarmed.

Nowaki made a dash for the bathroom. Hiroki listened as his partner turned the water on full-blast in the sink.

Great.

Hiroki began picking the dishes up from the table. He was suddenly no longer hungry himself.

Nowaki running the tap like that could only mean one thing: the guy was puking. Hiroki had learned about this particular habit of Nowaki's the first time he'd gotten him seriously drunk.

They had celebrated Nowaki's twentieth birthday, the day he could legally drink by getting totally shitfaced together. Nowaki had been horribly hung over the next morning. He had been hung over too, though not anywhere near as sick.

Hiroki had gone in to reprimand the big dork about wasting water after listening to the sink run for fifteen minutes, only to find Nowaki collapsed on the floor in front of the toilet. He'd turned the water on because he hadn't wanted to disturb Hiroki with his retching.

The goof… always trying to be so damn considerate.

Knowing what was going on in the other room was distressing. Hiroki had been hoping that he and Nowaki could have a serious conversation, as much as he hated these, tonight before the younger man left for work about what was bothering him.

It was obvious now that Nowaki was not going to be up for that kind of agenda.

Hiroki was also disturbed because he did not want catch anything from Nowaki. They were nearing a busy time of the semester, with exams coming up and he could not afford to get sick right now.

Listen to you, Hiroki berated himself. "Poor Nowaki is sick and you're out here being a selfish bastard as usual."

"Okay, okay." Hiroki stopped, thought a minute, and then decided he would allow himself, just this once, to give in to his baser urges.

He went into their bedroom and pulled the pillows off the bed and took a spare blanket out of the closet. He threw these on the couch. He turned the TV on and found some ridiculous pro wrestling event on one of the channels. He then scoured the kitchen cupboards for chicken broth, which he found, and heated up in the microwave. Three minutes later he set a steaming bowl of this along with a fresh cup of tea on the table next to the couch.

Then he stood, arms crossed, waiting for Nowaki to emerge from the bathroom. About five minutes later the water shut off and Nowaki opened the door.

"Sick, huh?" Hiroki grumbled.

"Yeah," said Nowaki weakly.

"Okay, come on, Idiot." Hiroki took Nowaki by the hand and pulled him into the front room. Nowaki followed him blindly.

"Just be glad there's no possibility that you have the Uke Flu," Hiroki joked as he led Nowaki to the couch. Fortunately his back was to Nowaki, so he didn't see the expression in his partner's eyes when he said this.

Hiroki sat down on the sofa and propped himself up against one of its thick arms. He put one pillow behind his back and the other he set against his chest. "Come here." He motioned to Nowaki, who'd just continued to stand alongside him. Hiroki reached up and took his over-sized paw and pulled him over.

After blinking dumbly for a few seconds, finally, Nowaki seemed to understand. Gratefully he climbed onto the couch and settled his shaggy head on the pillow propped on his Hiro-san's chest. He stretched his long legs out, his feet extending up and over the sofa's other arm.

Hiroki awkwardly spread the blanket over his giant. After a little coaxing he was able to get Nowaki to finally at least accept some tea. While his patient was carefully sipping, Hiroki ran his fingers absentmindedly through Nowaki's thick, inky hair.

When Nowaki had finished his tea, Hiroki took the cup from him and set it on the table. Then he picked something else up and set it on Nowaki's chest.

"Here."

"What's this?" came Nowaki's weak response.

"It's the remote, Dork. But don't go getting any ideas. I'm only letting you have it because you're sick."

"Who gets to hold the remote? That would have been a good question to ask," Nowaki murmured, recalling his interview with Dr. Suzuki earlier that morning.

"What?"

"Nothing, Hiro-san."

"… Hiro-san?"

"Umm?"

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Hiroki's brow furrowed as he looked down at Nowaki's pale, troubled face. "Just shut up and get better okay? And I better not catch whatever it is you've got."

Nowaki sighed, comforted by Hiroki's ire, knowing its subtext: Hiro-san loved him and was worried about him. He closed his eyes. He did not want to lose the peace of this moment. He would tell Hiro-san tomorrow.

"Okay, Hiro-san. And you won't catch it, I promise," Nowaki said drowsily, allowing himself to drift off in his lover's arms.

Hiroki watched as Nowaki's anxious features softened into serenity as sleep overtook him.

As soon as Nowaki was softly snoring he stole the remote back.

Dragon77, Thank you for the review! Glad you're enjoying the story.

Roocie, hey there, dear! So happy to see you found this and that it's lifting your spirits. Yes, if you're in a tough place you might definitely want to avoid Days Without Sun. It's the darkest thing I think I have written. Sounds like you need fluffiness right now. This story has angst too, but in an entirely different way. Hope you feel better soon. Keep us posted. Okay?

X, you are right sweetheart, I am making some minor changes as I am going along. You know me, never satisfies and always tinkering. Hoping that this revised version reads more fluidly. It's so much easier when one is looking back, to smooth out rough spots, as opposed to writing from chapter to chapter, knowing where you want to go but not sure entirely how to get there yet. Glad to know you are feeling better.

Ashley Tangerine, you get your wish! Here's a new chapter. And you're right, this piece is meant to reflect the maturity in all the couples after an additional three years and all their various AU life experiences. Big moments coming up soon, so keep reading!

To everyone else reading, favoriting, alerting... you have my gratitude.

Sincerely,

Cerberus