The Pediatrician's Closet

Perfect

When he finally woke up some nameless hours later, his room had been cleaned.

Baffled, disturbed, wary, he looked at the empty laundry hamper, the dustless nightstand, to the organized desk. Even the pink bunny he usually had in his pocket had been tastefully positioned by his nose-shaped cup of pens.

Then he dropped his face into his hands. There was only one person who could have done this. Brothers only cleaned other brothers' rooms in extreme, health hazarding circumstances. Masaomi's room had only been neglected, not necessarily dirty.

While a part of him was grateful, the fact that she had felt the need to clean it...gah! He wasn't a child!

A light knock came at his door, distracting him from his humiliation. Before he could say anything, Emma walked in, a mug cupped in her hands. The smile she gave him blinded him. How could anyone look so happy in the presence of someone so gross?

"You look much better. I hope you don't mind that I cleaned your room. You kept mumbling about it bothering you, so I thought it would help you sleep better if I did. I promise I haven't thrown anything away that wasn't obviously trash and I, um, yeah." She set the mug on his nightstand. Her face looked a little pink. "Sorry."

"No, I should be sorry that you felt like you had to do it." At least his voice had downgraded to simple Batman rather than chain-smoker Batman.

"I didn't think I had to. I wanted to. I mean, not clean your room because I thought it was dirty, because I wanted to help—help you, I mean. Not that I wanted to help you clean your room, you're fully capable of that..." she clenched her hands in front of her and looked pointedly at the floor. "I'm just going to give up on talking now. Hope the tea isn't too sweet." She turned to leave.

His hand grabbed for her without his permission and caught a handful of her flowy blouse. She looked as surprised as he felt. It was just, the thought of her leaving...

He snatched the offense back. "No, it's fine. Really. Thank you, truly."

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, then dropped as she seemed to consider something. Tentively, she reached for his brow. He had to hold himself back from leaning into her touch. There could be no describing the rush of contentment the contact gave him. It made him feel small again, like a babe curled on his mother's lap, but deeper.

"I think your fever's broken, at least. Would you like something to eat?"

"Only if it isn't too much trouble. I can get myself food."

"No, let me. You've taken care of me when I was sick more than enough times. I want to return the favor."

He wanted to tell her there had been no favor intended, that he loved when she was sick because he had been able to spend time with her without guilt...but he had more sanity than that. Talk about opening himself up to sounding like a real sadist. Could a virgin be a sadist?

After she left, he dragged himself into the shower. Whatever magical energy that had made him feel less fatigued when he first woke up went down the drain along with a gallon of snot. While not as dizzy or in pain to breathe, he still felt like a zombie shuffling down the stairs to the kitchen. He took it slow, as he was in his socks and didn't want to slip.

Which probably also gave him the unwitting side effect of walking silently, as the sound of voices went uninterrupted.

"Why don't you ever take care of me when I'm sick? You know what this does to me. Why do you have to be so cruel?"

"I-I never meant, I never knew—"

"What, my feelings for you? We both know this is a lie."

"Tsubaki, don't-!"