"You were unconcerned with my health," Taiga muttered back, wincing as the disinfectant stung the wound. "It's understandable."<br/><br/>The pain was like an old friend. This was hardly the first time he'd slept nursing injuries.<br/><br/>Taiga wanted to feel like he was completely alone. He wanted to feel angry and abused, so he could push Mashi away. His eyes were just watery slits for the pain, but he could still make out Mashi, his form. He rolled over, disguising it as restless shifting. He said nothing, made no noise or motion when Mashi turned and ran his fingers through his hair.<br/><br/>It was entirely intimate and perhaps confusing.<br/><br/>Taiga opened his eyes and turned back. Sweat gave his body a lovely sheen. Fever made his cheeks redden, a blush that seemed wrong on the face of Gula's Tiger.<br/><br/>Taiga reached out and traced Mashi's own scar, not entirely sure why he did it.<br/><br/>He was cold, so cold, so he shamelessly riddled with Mashi, moving over and curling against Mashi's side. His flesh was so hot, wet with sweat, painted with red, and utterly lovely.<br/><br/>He pressed his forehead into Mashi's armpit, dragging the covers to be around him, curled like a kitten. His naked body was a work of art, holdable, fuckable, soft in the right areas and hard in the right areas.