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Takao was fiddling with his stereo, trying to remember how to switch input modes, when he heard the clicking of a door and the soft padding of feet on the stairs. Ah, so Furi was home. He figured that gave him about a minute and a half before his Maker came back. Just enough time to place his stack of CDs back in order and return to bed.
At first, it was nice being back in their old room. He enjoyed playing with his old stuff, ancient relics from when he was a human -- a few decades earlier.
But now it was like he was trapped. Stuck on seemingly never-ending bed rest. Doctor’s orders.
Of course, said doctor was none other than his Maker, himself. And he was definitely going above and beyond the call of duty here. Takao had healed days ago. He was as good as new. And yet, Midorima still had him confined to their bed, drinking four times the amount of blood packs as normal to ‘keep up his strength.’
Maybe if his doctor had better bedside manner, it would have been a bit more...enjoyable for Takao. Well, anyway...
Just as he’d gotten back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, Midorima opened the door, stepping inside and carefully shutting it behind him. “Kazu, I’ve returned.”
Takao sat up in bed, stretching his arms into the air and giving an over-exaggerated yawn. “Oh, Shin-chan. Welcome back.”
Midorima eyed him for a moment before crossing over to their bed. “How are you feeling?” He took a seat on the edge of the mattress.
“I’m feeling just fine,” Takao answered. “Just like yesterday. And the day before. And the day--”
“Takao.”
Ooh. His Shin-chan was in a mood. He hadn’t called him by his surname in ages.
“Midorima,” Takao returned with a cheeky smirk. “How was your day babysitting Akashi-sama?” He added the honorific for fun, loving the way his Maker’s jaw tightened.
“I think Akashi is recovering well,” Midorima answered. “Furihata is with him now.”
Takao hummed as he leaned back against the headboard. “He’s stronger this time around, I think.” He looked up at Midorima. “Furi, I mean.” He brought his knees up to his chest, pulling the blanket along with them. “He doesn’t look like much, but he’s really brave.” Takao recalled how Furihata had run into the hotel room and pulled the chains off of him. “Kasamatsu-san trained him well.”
Midorima didn’t respond.
“Anyway, what are the chances of me getting out of bed tonight--”
“Zero.” Ah, so now Midorima had an answer for him. “Kazu, you were covered in silver--”
“Nearly a week ago,” Takao interrupted. “I’ve had plenty of time to rest and recover, Shin-chan.” He sighed, tired of being handled with kid gloves. “I’m not like the others,” he went on. “I’m not human. I’m--”
“Just as precious,” Midorima said firmly, his arms crossed over his chest. And, for a moment, Takao wondered if he knew what he’d said. If Midorima had thought he’d barked out a command, when he’d actually complimented Takao. Then he continued, “I know what you are, Kazu. I made you.”
Takao lowered his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “Shin-chan, I know you’re still mad about me sneaking out of the house,” he said. “But don’t you think my punishment has gone on long enough?” He looked up, his sharp gaze searching for any indication that Midorima might finally end his sentence.
But he was surprised to see his Maker’s eyes widen. “Kazu, is...is that what you think this is?” he asked. “A punishment?”
Uh? Wasn’t it? Takao cleared his throat, picking at a loose thread on the covers. “I mean, you’ve been keeping me prisoner in our room like I’m some sort of convict, so...yeah?”
Midorima moved closer to him on the bed, one of his hands coming to rest on Takao’s knee. “Kazu, I--” He drew his brows down. “I was terrified.”
Takao blinked. Oh, well, he wasn’t expecting that response.
“You were taken from me,” Midorima said. “I didn’t know where you were or when-- if I’d ever see you again.” He wet his lips. “And when we found you, you were... he’d…” he cut himself off with a growl. “There was no reason to use that amount of silver on a single vampire.” His grip tightened on Takao’s knee. “And your injuries.” Midorima swallowed, lifting his hand and hesitating, leaving it hovering just over Takao’s chest. “Those take time to heal.”
Takao’s lips quivered. He really tried to keep it in. But he couldn’t help the laugh that burst forth from his mouth, startling his Maker. “Shin-chan,” he wheezed. “Are you serious?”
Midorima drew back, pulling a face. “I am always serious.”
At that, Takao snickered. “Yeah, I know you are.” He shook his head. “But I mean...I thought…Oh, man.” He folded his arms over his bent knees and rested his head against them, hiding his face. “I really thought you were still mad at me,” he confessed. “But you honestly…” He chuckled.
“This is no laughing matter, Kazu,” Midorima huffed. “Your burns were quite serious.”
Takao peeked up at Midorima over his arms. “So were yours.”
Midorima frowned and adjusted his glasses. “My injuries were minor.”
“No.” Takao sat up the rest of the way, reaching out and taking Midorima’s hands in his. “The burns have faded, but…” He brought them to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the tips of Midorima’s fingers. “These precious hands,” he said, “That have performed countless intricate surgeries with brilliant precision and success…” He sighed, brushing his lips against Midorima’s knuckles. “To think you nearly wasted them on me.”
Midorima yanked his hands back, a scowl on his face. “Even if I’d lost my hands completely, it would not have been a waste, you fool.”
Ooh. Maybe Takao had pushed too far.
“Besides, Kazu.” Midorima held his hands up. “I am very clearly completely healed.”
Takao grinned. That was his opening. “What a coincidence, Shin-chan.” He threw the covers back and lifted his shirt up, exposing his chest. “So am I.”
Midorima used those gorgeous, long-fingered, meticulous hands of his to cover his face. “Kazu…”
“Aww, c’mon, Shin-chan. You know I’m right,” he said. Then, after a beat, Takao grew serious. “Listen, I know I scared you.” He glanced over to the side. “You should be really pissed at me, actually,” he went on. “But I promise I’m fine, okay?”
Slowly, Midorima lowered his hands to his lap, his gaze remaining on his palms. “I really thought I might lose you,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.
“I know.” Takao reached forward, pinching Midorima’s index finger and giving it a little tug. “If I promise not to break the rules anymore, will you finally let me leave this bed?”
Midorima fixed him with a look. “That promise would be worthless, coming from you.”
Takao faked a wince. “Ouch, Shin-chan.” But then, he smirked, walking his fingers along Midorima’s palm and toward the soft, pale flesh of his inner wrist. “Unless there’s another reason Shin-chan wants to keep me in bed?”
His Maker snapped his head up. “Kazu…!”
“What?” Takao shrugged his shoulders. “It was just a guess,” he said and then, lowering his voice a bit, “Or a suggestion,” he purred. Well, if he was going to be stuck in their bed, he might as well have a little fun.
“Kazu, you’re still recovering,” Midorima said, though his voice sounded a little airy. Breathy.
“I told you, I’m fine,” Takao insisted. “But if you’re worried about me…” he trailed off, biting his lip. “I could let you do all the work.”
Midorima had not fed yet that day or Takao was sure he’d be blushing. Well, there was a way to fix that.
“I’ve had at least a dozen blood packs today,” he went on, tilting his head to the side to offer the pale expanse of his neck. “It’s been a while,” he added. “And you’re hungry, aren’t you, Shin-chan?”
“Kazu…” It was a warning, but it lacked any bite. Heh, well, Takao would be sure to change that.
“C’mon, Shin-chan,” he said, getting onto his knees and moving even closer to Midorima on the bed. “You’ve been neglecting me, after all.”
In an instant, faster than a human could blink, Takao was on his back, Midorima towering over him, caging him with his arms and legs.
Now, that was more like it.
“Kazu,” he said, voice so deep, it sent a shiver up Takao’s spine. “I was giving you time to heal.”
Takao blinked up at him, arching his back slightly. “I’m healed.” He batted his eyelashes. “But if you’re still worried about my condition,” he said, “We can always switch things up.”
Midorima audibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did. Takao wanted to nip it, but he couldn’t reach. “Kazu, I’d have to prepare--”
“Oh, no, Shin-chan!” Takao gasped in mock indignation. “And possibly damage your precious fingers before they’ve completely healed?”
Green eyes narrowed and Takao bit back a snort. “You’re mocking me, Kazu.”
But Takao shook his head. “Me? Never!” Then he snatched up one of Midorima’s hands and kissed his fingers again, pausing to stick out his tongue and brush it teasingly against the pad. “I mean it.” He trailed his tongue down the length of it, relishing in the shiver he’d elicited. “I wouldn’t want you making a mess of these,” he said and then held up his own hand, wiggling his fingers. “So, we’ll use mine.”
And that was how Takao was released from bed rest. Only to spend the remainder of the evening and the following day confined to the very bed he'd been trying to escape.
Ah, well. It had definitely been worth it.