Tumgik
#*slides in masumi gender hc*
rateelism · 3 years
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“I don’t care that you’re sick– in fact, you need to be cuddled now, more than ever.” Masukyu... (also there's so many of these I could want to do uuuuu cute prompts)
Masumi lays on his bed, curled up under his comforter because he’s cold and sniffling.
God, he hated fevers. He hated being sick.
(At least he isn’t alone anymore.)
Masumi picks up their head and drops it back onto the pillow, bored out of their mind yet too tired to care. They want to sleep, but Tsuzuru said he’d come back with rice porridge for them, and their roommate had promised to sneak in a Vietnamese spring roll if no one was around to see him make it. Masumi didn’t care if Tsuzuru made one for him or not, and had said so as much as plainly as possible. Tsuzuru had just laughed and patted their head. Masumi had rolled away from it a second too slow.
The sick boy hears the door creak open, so pokes his head out to ask Tsuzuru what took him so long, wanting to bicker a bit to ease his boredom. Except, it’s Kumon at the door, a smile spread wide across his face. Masumi feels his cheeks warm at the sight of his boyfriend, ducking his head back under the covers to avoid being caught.
"You're not supposed to be here," Masumi says. He hears Kumon scoff and Masumi's bunk shakes a bit as Kumon climbs up the ladder.
"What do you mean? My partner's sick, so of course I came to see him! I can't let my boyfriend suffer alone." Masumi warms at Kumon's words, no matter how embarrassing they sound, because sometimes embarrassing is nice.
"What if you get sick?" Masumi asks, bringing his head back out from under the blanket to frown and hoping his nose isn't running. It would be bad to look gross in front of Kumon. The other boy hums as he flops into the empty space at the foot of Masumi's bed.
"I won't! I'm immune from the common fever." Kumon puffs out his chest, ridiculous since he's lying flat on his back. "Besides, I'm only here to talk with you! I haven't seen you all day."
"Yea, because I'm sick. Leave." Masumi doesn't mean for it to come out harsh, but it does, and he cringes as he ducks his head back under the safety of his blanket and sniffles. Kumon huffs, and Masumi thinks he's getting up to leave, but his bed keeps dipping, and suddenly Masumi finds himself tilting into something solid. Solid and warm. Kumon.
"I don't care if you're sick," Kumon declares. "In fact, I think you need a cuddle! Cuddling's always nice when you're sick." Warm arms that Masumi knows have many scratches and faded cuts on them wrap around him. Masumi squirms.
"You just said you only wanted to talk. You're going to get sick this way."
"We've got a blanket separating us! Plus, it gets lonely when you're sick. I don't want you to feel lonely." That's bordering a topic Masumi doesn't want to think about, so they decide to drop the subject and jab Kumon in the stomach lightly.
"Fine, only because you're so insistent," Masumi begrudgingly agrees. Kumon cheers.
"Awesome! Nii-chan and I did this a lot when one of us was sick. I kinda miss being a kid, but now we have Mankai! And I have you!" Masumi drops his head onto Kumon's chest, sighing contentedly as Kumon rambles on about his childhood, baseball, theatre and Summer Troupe; Masumi's warm.
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