Characters: Namiashi Raidou, Shiranui Genma
Warnings: Expletives, implications
Notes: I wrote this off the top of my head for no good reason. It’s much later in the Corybantic Dance timeline.
Genma didn’t even look up from the book in his hands. "Raidou, you will not live to see tomorrow. Stop thinking it and give me the goddamn ice."
Laughing, Raidou slipped the Sharpie back into his pocket and sat on the back of the couch, passing an orange ice to Genma. "You’ve got eyes in the back of your head. You have to."
"Don’t need them. I know that kind of quiet. Besides, you smell like trouble when you do shit like that." Genma held out his hand for an ice spoon and peeled the lid from the cup with his teeth. "I’m out of lemon again, I see."
"It’s because you eat all the lemon first. I’m surprised the kid didn’t beat me to the cherry." Raidou passed over the mostly useless excuse for a spoon, with a grin.
"He’s sick again. I didn’t figure the ices would survive the trip to the hospital." Genma set the book in his lap on the floor and turned to sit in the corner of the couch. Pulling both knees up, he scraped at the orange ice.
Raidou blinked and gaped. "What in the fuck are you doing sitting here?"
"Waiting. I already got kicked out once today. And that was after they thought they kicked me out last night. I have to let the shift change before I try again." Genma sounded like this was the most perfectly reasonable thing in the world. He licked the ice scrapings off the wooden spoon. "Just waiting. He’ll be home eventually. He always comes home."
Staring at his friend’s dead-eyed face, Raidou could almost see the static holding the man together. "Yeah, of course he’s coming home. It’s just been wet these last few weeks. That’s probably all it is."
"It’s just another trip to the hospital." Genma ran his hand through his hair, absently flicking his wrist to shake off the strands that had fallen out. There was more of Genma’s hair on the furniture, these days, than fur from the cats, but he had grace and style, especially under pressure. Where someone else would have looked worn and sick with worry, he just looked bored and slightly less than amused. Girls thought he looked sexy, but girls were the last thing on his mind, with his boyfriend in the hospital for the third time in as many months. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Yeah, sure. Sorry." But, Raidou didn’t change the subject; he just stared into his ice and quietly scraped at it.
"So, I heard Ko finally found out the hard way that cold sores are contagious." Same deadpan delivery. Genma barely looked like he’d moved at all, except that he kept scraping and eating ice.
Raidou stopped with a spoon covered in ice shavings halfway to his mouth. "From Izumo, I hope. I’d hate to have to clean him up with a squeegee and a bucket."
"Better. He gave it to Izumo." Genma’s eyes finally glinted mischievously.
"I’ll get the bucket," Raidou offered weakly, gaping in amused horror at his friend before laughter finally overtook him.
Genma’s face finally softened and he let one leg slide off the couch as he snickered and ate ice. Orange wasn’t as good as lemon, but he had no complaints, really. Hayate would be home, soon, and then he’d buy another case of ices. Lemon just wasn’t as good without someone else to kiss you and tell you it was gross.