I'm happy to have you in my bed

The young man sweated profusely and trembled from a fever. He had been unwell since he woke up with a throbbing headache and a sore throat. His muscles ached and he shuddered from sudden chills as his temperature rose.

The faded teal hair on his shoulders was a complete mess, shaggy and disheveled, sticking up in random directions as if he had just been through a windstorm.

Natsuo dragged his heavy blanket up to his chin, trying to wrap himself as snugly as possible. His eyelids drooped, begging for a few moments of rest. He hadn't had the energy to eat much in a whole day and his stomach growled, demanding sustenance, but his lack of appetite kept him from satisfying it.

Suddenly, he heard the door creak and footsteps padding across the floor.

He lifted his head to see his roommate standing next to the bed, looking concerned as he saw him in his current condition.

"What is wrong? Are you sick?" the white-haired man asked as he seated himself on the mattress' edge.

"I don't know if you should be near me right now," Natsuo replied in a raspy voice, scratchiness coursing through his throat.

"But I waited all day to see you," the tattooed man answered as he placed his hand on the other's clammy and hot forehead. He watched how the figure twisted his nose to stifle his sneezes, so he grasped a sheet of paper on the nightstand.

"Blow your nose," Jiro instructed as he held the tissue close to Natsuo's nostrils to catch any liquid that might escape.

The man refused to move his hand when the feverish housemate reached out for the napkin and tried to do it himself. Reluctantly, he slowly exhaled into the sheet, trying not to make any embarrassing noises.

A smile stretched across Jiro's face as he threw the used tissue in the bin before turning back to the person next to him.

"There is no need for you to do that for me," Natsuo mumbled as he disappeared beneath the quilt, his whisper faintly heard over his labored breathing.

"Stuffy noses don't scare me. Trust me," Jiro said fondly, tracing his friend's outline with his gaze.

"Have you taken any medicine? Or did you eat anything?" he questioned as he stroked the other one's back in slow, gentle circles.

Natsuo could feel his tensed muscles slowly relaxing under the man's touch. He shook his head under the blanket and raised his voice, even if it was just a mere murmur.

"No, but you don't need to - "

"I will be back soon, so just rest for now," Jiro promised and left the room, closing the door behind him.

His earthy cologne lingered in the air, comforting and calming Natsuo to a peaceful sleep.

(A while later)

Natsuo stirred awake, feeling a gentle hand run through his hair and brush the long strands away from his forehead. He opened his eyes, blinking away the sleepiness, and saw the man sitting by his bedside again.

The tattooed hands carefully guided him to sit and adjusted the wool blanket around his body to protect him from the cold.

"Here," Jiro said, holding a white pill between his fingers, the stitching on his amputated pinky still in place.

"Open your mouth," he continued.

The man pressed his fingers into Natsuo's lips, letting him breathe against them. The latter shyly parted his mouth, allowing Jiro to slip the tablet onto his tongue. He reached for the water glass on the bedside table and helped his sick friend take a sip of the cool liquid.

"There, all done," Jiro said with a satisfied smile. He grabbed the smoothie cup he had brought along, inserting the straw into his roommate's mouth and letting him take a few gulps. The creamy mixture tasted like honey and cherries with a hint of banana blended in for extra sweetness.

"Thank you..." the teal-haired man mumbled, not knowing how to express the confused gratitude inside his chest.

"You don't have to sleep alone in here," Jiro said as he glanced around the apartment's guestroom and watched the moonlight reflect off the black walls. It was simply furnished, with only a bed and a nightstand, but everything was still of high quality, from the luxurious sheets to the velvet-upholstered armchair.

"But..."

"That is up to you. I won't force you to do anything, but I'm happy to have you in my bed," the white-haired man said and smiled kindly.

Natsuo's heart was strangely calm despite the chaotic emotions and feverish symptoms swirling inside him. Having his former classmate present made him feel safe and secure, no longer insecure and afraid - so, he intuitively nodded his head, allowing peace to spread over him as their eyes met in agreement.

"Hold the cup," Jiro instructed before scooping the thin frame into his arms.

He slowly maneuvered through the dark penthouse, carefully avoiding the furniture and other objects in his path. His steps were steady and his grip was strong as he carried his former classmate back to the master bedroom.

(A couple of days later)

"I have something to give you," Jiro announced with a warm smile, despite looking under the weather from the virus he contracted from his housemate.

He laid a white envelope on the table beside their breakfast, next to the bowls of soup they had been drinking to soothe their sicknesses.

The blue eyes glanced at the man standing next to him, his white hair scruffy from lying in bed too much. His terry cloth robe hung carelessly on his body, revealing his bare abs and underwear through the gap.

Natsuo turned to look at the letter again, not wanting his attention to stay too long on his features. He pulled out a golden credit card, which glowed in the sun's light that trickled in from the windows.

"Use it however you want."

"I can't accept this," Natsuo murmured and tried to pass the card to his roommate, who filled their empty mugs with more tea and refused to take it.

"I don't need more of them, I have one already," Jiro chuckled and pushed the cat-shaped ceramic cup closer to his friend.

"Then... what do I need to do to repay?" Natsuo asked, his gaze downward as he tried to comprehend the multimillionaire's generous nature.

"Absolutely nothing," the tattooed man answered and sipped his steaming herbal tea.

"Well... I really appreciate it," Natsuo responded softly, his roommate's oversized sweater draping over his fingers as he stared at the card. His nose was still pink from too much sneezing and his hair was completely tangled from the fever he had been suffering for the past few days.

"You look too cute like that," Jiro commented abruptly, his lips slightly curved.

Natsuo was about to drink his tea but coughed as he heard the man's words. He blushed as he heard the unexpected compliment and winced as the hot liquid burned his tongue.

"I... uh... I mean... thanks," he said as he awkwardly bit his lip, becoming very aware of his own unkempt appearance.

"Did you burn your tongue?" Jiro questioned furrowing his brows in concern as his companion nibbled his mouth.

"I guess..."

The white-haired man quickly stood up and walked next to his fellow housemate.

"Show me. Open your mouth."

Natsuo hesitantly complied, ashamed of his own clumsiness and feeling self-conscious in front of the other.

Jiro examined the tongue, which only showed a mild blister on the tip, and lightly blew on it to cool it down. His breath tickled Natsuo's lips and made him blush even more, causing his nose and ears to turn redder than ever.

The pale brown eyes stared at the figure in front of him for a few moments. His focus rested on his lips before he stepped back and let out a soft sigh.

"Be careful with that tea, okay?" Jiro cautioned as he took his own mug and made his way back to the kitchen, leaving the other one alone with his thoughts.

The two men shared the same bed each night. The younger man's head usually rested on the older one's shoulder and their bodies were pressed together - yet their mouths never met, even when their faces were barely away from one another.

It felt safe. It felt familiar, even comforting, being like that.

For the first time, Natsuo felt disappointed as he saw him turn away like that. Surprisingly, he found himself hoping for a different outcome, something more than just a gentle reminder to be mindful of his steaming drink.