acchikocchi: (jin's smile)
[personal profile] acchikocchi

(aka "Jin-eral Hospital")

Jin & Yamapi, more or less gen
925 words

For [ profile] pipsqueaks, who has in the past said such nice things to me, in hopes it will put a smile on her face. Heal soon. ♥

"Don't you dare say it," Jin said in dire tones. "Don't even think it." He made a restless movement and immediately flinched as it jiggled his arm, suspended in a sling.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Yamapi from the side of Jin's hospital bed. "Oh wait, do you mean the part where I told you so? Because I think I did. Twice. At least."

"I'm just curious, but do you ever listen to me? Ever?"

"Sorry, what was that?"

Jin scowled. "Yeah, that one's not old at all."

"I don't think you get to judge my humor because - why was that again? Oh right, because I told you so."

"You don't have to sound happy about it," Jin muttered. "It hurts like a motherfucker."

"I'm not happy!" Yamapi said indignantly. "I just think you're going to kill yourself if you don't start listening to other people sometimes. Had you ever been snowboarding before? No, but you bought a skateboard once and that's close enough, right, except you never used it so you had no idea what you were doing and unsurprisingly ran into a tree - "

"Are you my mother? You don't look like my mother. Oh wait, actually, do you go to the same stylist, because your hair - "

"If you think that broken arm's going to keep you safe, Akanishi, let me clear that up for - "

Someone coughed. Both parties broke off and turned to the doorway. A young woman in a nurse's uniform stood there, timidly holding up a clipboard as if in explanation. Yamapi tried for a smile that would simultaneously convey reassurance, apology, and charm; he had a feeling it probably didn't come out as well as he'd like. When neither boy said anything, the nurse scuttled in and, consulting the charts at the foot of Jin's bed, began to make arcane markings on the clipboard.

Scritch-scratch, went the nurse's pen. No other sound broke the silence.

Jin stared fixedly at the opposite wall. There was a small television fixed to the ceiling that didn't appear to have been used since about 1976, and a blandly cheerful print next to it. The jimusho wasn't about to shell out for an elite hospital for someone whose injuries were his own stupid fault. The break throbbed. God, he hated that color of paint, the ubiquitous institutional off-white. He hated hospitals. He hated an awful lot about life right now.

After what seemed like an age, the nurse finished her notations. She gave Jin a tiny smile as she left and he did his best to at least smooth out his expression.

Yamapi cleared his throat. Jin glanced over, reluctantly. Yamapi wasn't looking at him.

"How long do they think you'll have to stay here?" Yamapi asked the bed cover.

"Dunno," Jin said shortly. "A few days at least. They want to keep an eye on me 'cause it was a compound fracture."

"It really hurts, huh," Yamapi said, more softly, still looking at the bed instead of Jin.

Jin recognized the peace offering for what it was, and suppressed his immediate response of Really, you think? "Yeah," he muttered. "Basically."

Yamapi was quiet for a minute. Then -

"Bet if you told your fans the name of the hospital they'd send enough 'presents' to decorate every inch of the room."

The mere thought made Jin's eyes cross.

Yamapi added for good measure, "Plus the rest of the ward. The whole floor, probably."

Jin could feel his lips twitching against his own will. "They'd kill me if I even hinted at the name." 'They' was of course management.

"The address could always slip. Accidentally. You never know where a fan might be working, after all." Yamapi's face was perfectly straight, but it wasn't like Jin had known him for fourteen years for nothing. He knew that expression. "They don't even need to know which hospital, actually. As soon as this hits the papers your fans will probably start volunteering in every hospital across Tokyo just so they can give you the special care you need."

"Don't you dare," Jin said through a snort of laughter, assailed by the image hospital halls bulging with hordes of fans in identical pink and white uniforms. "Jesus. No."

"They'd probably coordinate a whole battle plan to cover the most ground effectively. A duty schedule. Color-coded. Itemized. They're probably doing that right now."

"Stop!" Jin yelled. "Mercy, mercy!" He made the most pathetic face he could muster. "Don't let me die that way, Pi."

Yamapi was grinning. "Maybe as a favor to my best friend. If he's nice to me."

"I'm pretty sure that's called blackmail," Jin said with narrowed eyes. "Does it count as a favor if I have to be nice to you?"

"Yes," Yamapi said decisively. "It does. Good children get favors, bad children get coal. And suffocation by well-meaning fangirls. I thought you used to live in America, don't you know that?"

"Nice try," Jin said, as his traitorous voice wavered with the effort of keeping a straight face. "You're a month early for Christmas. Santa."

"Ho ho ho," Yamapi replied, and flashed Jin a peace sign.

The pose reminded him. Jin heaved a sigh and said, "You probably have to get going, huh? They'll eat you alive if you're late for rehearsal for you own solo concert."

"Huh? Oh," Yamapi said, with badly-faked nonchalance, "I'm off today. And tomorrow. Lucky timing, huh?"

Jin fought it and lost. He was smiling, idiotically. "Yeah," he said, settling back against the pillows. "Lucky me."

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