RP: Checking In

[tooihi]

Date: 14 February 2519
Characters: Ootori, Shishido
Summary: Several hours after stitching him up, Ootori makes good on his promise to check up on Shishido.
Completion: Incomplete

Comments

[nekozame]

Shishido was in the middle of a very pleasant dream involving a pantsless girl with very long legs and very short hair that also happened to be silver when he heard a voice, and he groaned as the girl disappeared. He rolled over onto his stomach to bury his head under his pillow, but a sudden lance of pain up his side dragged him kicking and screaming up out of sleep and dumped him unceremoniously into the realm of agonised, and he yelled none too quietly, sitting bolt upright in bed.

And then promptly dropped back down onto it again, his head whirling and sparkles flashing across his vision. He was either very very hung over or else he'd got shot at again. Which meant he was hung over and hurt, because he always treated gunshot wounds with a copious amount of whatever liquor he had on hand. As disinfectant and analgesic.

Several moments later, he dared to crack one eyelid, and upon seeing the metal-grated ceiling, it came crashing back into him where he was.

And what he'd done last night.

Bugger.He closed his eyes again, hoping

[tooihi]

Choutarou rolled his eyes and came into the room properly, closing the door behind him. Knowing Shishido, the lack of greeting was less than a surprise. In fact, if anything, he'd come in expecting some sort of argument and glaring and resistance to proper care and attention. Part of him admitted that he'd be disappointed with anything less.

He sat down in the chair, drawing one knee up to his chest, uninvited and not caring.

"How are you feeling? The stitches held, ne?"

[nekozame]

'Gaoyang zhong de guyang,' Shishido bit out under his breath. The kid was right there, and he weren't leavin', because Shishido knew that kid and knew that he was just as stubborn as Shishido himself, and that was part of what Shishido liked so much about him, and oh god he didn't just admit to--

Hell.

So playin' dead wasn't gonna work. Maybe Shishido'd try the direct approach.

'Guan ni ziji de shi,' Shishido grunted with as much bile as he could muster. Which, considering it couldn't'a been any later than the asscrack o'dawn and Shishido ain't had nothin' to eat in at least six hours, was quite a lot.

[tooihi]

Choutarou sighed. If Shishido thought he was getting rid of him that easily he was either dense or still confused from blood loss. Or both.

"This is my business. You're my patient, I need to know if you've managed to tear open the stitches and are secretly bathing in your own blood as we speak." Never let it be said that Ootori Choutarou didn't have a morbid streak.

He rested his cheek against his knee and stared at Shishido levelly. "If you're in a lot of pain, I can give you something."

[nekozame]

Unsurprisingly, the direct approach didn't work either. Shishido sighed as well, and then, carefully, turned his head toward the kid, opening one eye and staring up at him balefully.

'I laugh at pain,' he snorted. Which was true. He did. Sometimes the laughter was followed by passing out, and it was almost always accompanied by a blue streak a mile wide, but there was always laughter. It kept him sane.

Well. "Sane", anyway.