The first few days after you wake up, your body and mind are in complete denial about your inability to walk. You’ll be sitting up in bed, in your sterile, bright hospital room, and you’ll shift just a bit, and wonder, blankly, why you aren’t going anywhere. When you realize, some horrible caricature of laughter bubbles up in your throat. Oh, you think, it’s because I’m a cripple now, haha.
You’re pretty sad for awhile-- mostly because you won’t be able to do your job as a Guardian anymore, at least...not properly...but there’s baseball, too. Even if you can play again, it won’t be the same. You won’t be able to run, and how will you practice your katas now? Your entire life is going to have to change (How will you get around at home? There are so many stairs...), and this is going to make things so much harder on your dad.
It becomes clear very quickly that the doctors don’t expect your legs to recover at any point, so you have to start thinking very seriously about a lot of things. And, well...it’s funny how much you take for granted, with functioning legs. You’re only fifteen, just a kid, and now so many things have been taken from you before you’ve even realized you might want them.
Sex? Good luck with that, you won’t even be able to get it up anymore. Which is pretty sad, you kinda liked jerking off, like most teenage boys your age. Kids? Nope. Not that you -really- want them, but little Yamamotos running around would make your dad happy. Ah, well. No use dwelling on could-have-been’s, now.
By the time you get to go home, you’ve pretty much come to terms with it. While you were hospitalized, it seems like a bunch of people chipped in to afford the chair lift for the stairs, so at least you don’t have to worry about those daunting, awful stairs of doom anymore (you’re pretty sure you’ve had nightmares about it, at least once).
Everyone’s there to greet you; there’s cake, balloons, the whole nine yards. When you smile, it’s even genuine -- it’s such a relief to know that they’re not all going to abandon you, now that you’re like this. Even so, you still get tired very easily, and so they don’t stay long. Tsuna and Haru hug you, everyone else says their goodbyes, and then you’re alone with your dad, and there’s a heavy silence.
It doesn’t last long, though, before your dad ruffles your hair and says ‘You must be exhausted, let’s get you upstairs,’ and you’ve never loved your old man more than you do right now. Once you’re up in your room, you finally feel like this entire nightmare might finally be over. Everything is just how you left it before you were hospitalized, like your dad hasn’t even been in the room, and you don’t blame him. You don’t like to think about how painful all this must’ve been for him.
Once you’re settled, the old man leaves you alone to watch TV until you’re tired enough to pass out. You stare at the screen blankly, the baseball game that would have held your attention entirely just a few short weeks ago nothing more than background noise to your thoughts, now. You’re not sure how much time passes before you’re startled from your thoughts by a noise outside your window. It’s a nice night, so your dad left your window open so you could have some fresh air after spending all that time in the hospital.
When you see the source of the noise as he climbs into your room, your face lights up. You haven’t seen him since you were hospitalized, not once, though you felt his eyes on you earlier when you got home. He sits his weapons carefully on the nightstand as he comes over, and he doesn’t say a word as he yanks the blanket back off your legs, staring at them. You’re in your boxers, nothing else, and his ice-blue eyes travel from the tips of your toes all the way up to your stomach, where those still-healing scars are standing out against your skin; after lingering there a moment, he finally looks you in the eye.
“It’s good to see you, Hibari,” you say, quietly, and all you get from him is a grunt in response. He climbs onto your bed, just below your feet, and from where he sits on his knees, his hands start at your feet. Fingers pressing, running along skin. Your ankles, your shins, your knees, thighs. Slow and methodical, and there’s a look of intense concentration on his face that makes you shiver. You don’t say a word, even if you can’t feel those hands on you at all, and that -hurts-, more than you wish it would.
When his hands reach your stomach, you have to force yourself not to flinch. It’s sensitive, all gnarled flesh and stitches still healing. He’s surprisingly gentle, though, with everything. It’s like he’s re-learning you, like he has to touch every inch of you to make sure you’re still his. It stirs something in your stomach, even if your body can’t properly react to it. This is the most -alive- you’ve felt since you woke up in the hospital, and you don’t want it to stop.
Those fingers work their way up your chest, then slide down your arms, sliding back up to linger against your shoulders and neck. Hibari’s leaning over you now, he knees tucked in lightly against your sides, careful. There’s no expression on his face as his fingers finally make their way to your lips, your cheeks, your nose and eyes, and then settle in your hair, gripping lightly. His face is so close you can feel warm breath on your lips, and even if you can’t really feel his weight situated on your legs, you don’t really mind too much, right now.
Hibari mashes your mouths together like an animal, fierce and unrestrained and the exact opposite of the way he’s been touching you, and it sets your nerve endings on fire. There are slender fingers tugging at your hair, and small, barely audible sounds leaving Hibari’s throat, and a worry you’d had since the moment you woke up has been completely erased; Hibari will still want you, even if you can’t walk.
You’re smiling, when he breaks away for air. And then you’re laughing, bubbly and happy, more real than any laugh since everything happened. This thing you have with Hibari, it’s something no one else knows about, something that’s just yours, and right now it’s the most important thing. This is something else you’d thought was lost when your ability to walk was-- of course Hibari wouldn’t want you now. You’re weak and useless and broken, you’d thought.
But you’re not, Hibari doesn’t think you’re weak, he’s still here, touching you, kissing you. Saying ‘You’re still Yamamoto Takeshi’ and ‘You are -not- weak’ with every touch and brush of lips, with the way those blue eyes settle on yours in the silence of the room.
So what if you can’t walk? So what if all these things have been taken from you? You still have the most important things, and you’re still smiling and laughing and kissing this boy. Nothing’s changed, not really. Not inherently. There’s a feeling like you’re lighter than air, happier than you can remember being in ages, stronger than ever. Hibari seems satisfied, because he reaches for the remote, shuts off the tv, and curls up at your side, head tucked into your neck. He still doesn’t say a word, hasn’t this whole time, but he doesn’t have to. He’s never had to.
And, well. If your dad comes in in the morning and finds another boy in your bed, you can just deal with it when it happens. You’re pretty sure at this point he’ll just laugh about it, anyway.