Awkward Domesticity [closed; inordertobelieve]

[righteousjudgement]

The short walk from the train station normally takes about twenty minutes, fifteen if he hurries a little – but Light doesn't hurry today. He takes his time, calling the restaurant to cancel the reservation, then stopping at a convenience store en route to pick up some things – a box of tea, aspirin, liquid cold medicine, a set of travel toiletries – and to order two bowls of take-out udon and vegetable tempura over rice. He knows Teru well enough to guess that if he's sick enough to cancel plans at the last minute, he may well be sick enough to need to be told to stay in bed and rest.

He's carrying too much to call or text when he's nearly there, so he doesn't bother – Teru knows he's dropping by, after all. It would be silly not to at least stop in to check on him, considering Light had already been nearly at the Kyoto station when he'd gotten the cancellation call, and Teru had sounded pretty awful over the phone. Even if their plans for the evening are off, Light's never in a rush to go home to Misa anyway.

He raises his less-burdened arm (the one carrying the medicine and other items, not the two heavy bags of still-steaming food) and knocks twice, frowning a little as the handles of the plastic bag drag against the sleeve of his jacket. It's not dark out yet, but it's chilly enough that Light would rather be indoors enjoying hot soup and better-than-average company – even if he suspects his not-quite-boyfriend will shoo him out at the earliest opportunity. They're similar in that neither of them likes to be observed while in less than ideal form.

Comments

[righteousjudgement]

Light offers a somewhat fuller smile as the other man allows him inside. He knows he's probably the only person Teru trusts enough for this - and in turn, Teru is one of the few people Light feels genuine concern for. It's an oddly intimate relationship by either of their standards, and he's still not entirely sure how it happened, but he's not complaining.

He closes and locks the door behind himself, pausing to remove his shoes, and then makes his way over to the coffee table to put down the bags. "This doesn't look like you've been taking care of yourself," he says over his shoulder, only half-teasing, with a nod to indicate the signs of recent work and cleaning he can see. Adopting the same tone he uses with his sister when she's being stubborn, he goes on, "Sit. I'll handle everything. There are chopsticks and napkins in the bag."

Although most of their social engagements involve meeting for lunch or coffee rather than visiting at home, Light has been in Teru's apartment enough times to know where things are, for the most part - and they're always in the same place, neatly organized. It's no trouble for him to find the teapot and cups. While the tea steeps, Light puts his little travel pack in the bathroom, taking a glance at the contents of the medicine cabinet. There doesn't seem to be an open bottle of cold medicine, so he brings the one he picked up back to the table, setting it down meaningfully within Teru's reach. He comes back a minute later with the tea and takes a seat.

"You know, I really don't mind coming over if you need someone to handle the cooking and cleaning for a few days," he says, looking over at Teru as he breaks the disposable chopsticks provided with the meal. "We're friends, right? Besides, I have a younger sister. It's not like I've never been around a sick person before."

[inordertobelieve]

Light doesn't seem to understand that working and - in this case especially - cleaning, to Teru, count very much into taking care of himself, no matter what physical condition he happens to be in. The idea of spending his time feeling dirty within a dirty environment is just too much filth to bear altogether.

Teru doesn't like being commanded, but he lacks will and energy to go up against Light's resolute decisions at the moment. Sitting down is actually a big relief to the strain that's placed on his body by the fever. Briefly he considers instructing Light to definitely put everything back where it belongs, but then decides against it. While it is unpleasant to have someone else move his things, Light isn't the sort of disorderly person who would make a mess in any case.

In his obedient streak, Teru even takes his medicine without protest. It's not like he feels any desire to stay sick. The sooner he can function again, the better. He sighs.

"In case of the flu, experience with the sick doesn't actually absolve you from being at risk to catch it yourself." Appealing to a sense of friendship has little effect on Mikami - not even if he's the beneficiary of it.