He’s like a damn leech!

No matter how hard you try to pull Gaku off the couch, he will not budge—not even in the slightest. That big guy is burning up with a fever, and you’re just trying to take care of him, but god, he’s like a damn baby. If he weren’t such a massive himbo, you swear you would’ve just picked him up and thrown him into the medicine bath yourself.

“I’m not sick,” he insists, stubbornly glued to the couch and his Nintendo. “Stop.”

You shake your head in response and grab his arm, attempting to pull him up again. This time, Gaku shoots you an annoyed glance—you just made him lose another round.

“I said stop.” Frowning, he gently yanks your hands off and leans back into the cushions, eyes locked on the screen. God damn it.

There’s no use… Looks like you’ll have to pamper him right here, whether he likes it or not.

With a sigh, you walk away to gather everything you need—towel, a small bucket of warm water, medicine, and some honey lemon tea. You take your time, letting him think he’s won this little battle, but the moment you return, you strike.

In one swift motion, you yank his shirt off. Gaku freezes. His eyes widen for a split second before he sighs, clearly unimpressed.

“Pervert,” he mutters, voice completely deadpan. He doesn’t even put up a fight, just leans back like he’s given up. Honestly, he’s probably just used to this by now—you’ve pulled this dumbass move so many times whenever he’s sick that it’s practically routine.

You exhale, dipping the towel into the warm water, squeezing it out, and beginning to wipe him down. His skin is burning up.

“You do realize this is harassment, right?” he jokes, fingers still moving across his Switch with unnerving calm. “I didn’t consent to this."