That Night - Shin Soukoku

Chapter Five

Tw - mentions of needles\stitches

Atsushi POV

When I woke up, I found myself wrapped in Akutagawa's arms. 

Even under the blanket he put around us they were cold. 

When I realized the situation, us in the same bed, my face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around me, and our legs tangled together, I wanted to die of embarrassment. 

I unwrapped my legs from his and started to push away to get up, when he pulls me tighter, keeping me from leaving. I hear a soft hum from him and he puts his leg over mine.

At this point, I'm struggling to breathe. I push away from him again, harder but still trying to not hurt him, scared it'll affect the wound. When he doesn't budge, I say "Akutagawa, I can't breathe." 

When he doesn't move, I realize he is asleep while doing this. "Ryunosuke! Let go of me!" 

This time, his eyes flutter open. I push away a bit, so that I can breathe, but he still won't let go of me.

"Hm?" He looks down at me. It takes a minute for him to fully wake up and realize what he's doing. When he does, he immediately let's go and sits up. His usually pale face flushed red. "Sorry."

I pretend not to remember what happened last night. "Why am I in here? What happened?" I look around his room. He doesn't answer. He just gets up. 

"I have to go to work. You probably do to."

I blink at him, slightly amused and tilt my head. "It's Saturday, Ryuu," I say, slightly chuckling. I don't mean to call him that, it just slips out.

I feel like I can see gears turning in his head, thinking of how to respond. 

Cute. 

"W-whatever, you should be getting home anyways."

Did he just fucking stutter? 

"Well before that, let me check your bandages." It's only as I say this I realize there's a bit of blood soaking through his shirt. He looks down, and seems to realize this too. 

I stand up and walk out the room, but he doesn't move. "Ryuu? Come on, I need to fix them." I grab his wrist and lead him to the bathroom. 

This time, he sits on the lid of the toilet. Hesitantly, he takes off his shirt and I look at his bandages. They're a little bloodied, but nothing serious. 

I take them off and clean the wound again. I'm knelt on the floor, but I can feel his eyes on me. I don't mention it, but my face is pink while I clean the wound. I stand up to grab the bandages and his gaze doesn't leave me. Why is he staring.? 

Before I put on the bandages I inspect the wound. "You may need one or two stitches." I look up at him. "You should probably see a doctor. Doesn't the Port Mafia have one?"

"They have plenty of doctors, but I don't need one. If I need stitches I can do that myself, especially if its only one or two." 

So damn stubborn. 

"You can't even put on your own bandages. How could you do your own stitches?"

He's silent for a moment, then he sighs. "If you think I need stitches so bad, then do it yourself. I have everything you need in the kitchen." 

"Which cabinet?"

He pauses for a moment, a look of surprise flashes over his eyes. Then he slips on his bloodied t-shirt and uses Rashomon as temporary bandages. He stands up and walks out. When he comes back, he's holding a small box.

He sits back down and takes his shirt off again, revealing the wound. 

I'm not a doctor, but Yosano taught me the basics of stitches, in case I was ever in a bind and it was necessary. 

I carefully stitch up his wound, rubbing his knee and lower thigh to try and get him to relax through the pain after each time I push the needle through. I was right; it only took two stitches. 

Once the stitches were done, I wrapped the bandages around him, again, being as gentle as possible. 

"Thanks. Again."

"You wouldn't survive without me," I reply, standing up and putting everything on the counter. 

He's silent a moment, looking down. "Does it hu-"

"Jinko." He cuts me off. His voice is stern, but he sounds worried.

"Yes?" 

"I'm sorry." I'm taken aback, his apology is out of the blue, surprising me. When I don't say anything, he seems to take it as his cue to keep talking. "For last night. The kiss."

Oh.

He keeps talking, "I wasn't thinking straight. I'm really sorry." His usually relaxed face and tone are anxious now

Oh?

Has he ever apologized to someone? For some reason, this thought makes me laugh. He looks surprised. 

"It's fine. Just, don't do that again, okay? At least not without asking first." I don't mean to say the last part. It just kinda slips out.

The look on his face shows that he realizes the implications of that statement, but he doesn't say anything. 

He tries to stand up, but it's clear the stitches made his wound hurt even more, and he fails. I walk over to him and lean to his height, grabbing his hand and helping him up. 

All the emotion from his face during that short conversation is gone, and he's back to his usual dead\vampire look.

(890 words)

Authors note: 
I have been writing for over 7 hours. might be getting close to 8. its 7:40am. save me
again sorry for it being kinda out of character :((