Antiseptics burn, especially the ones Akari uses.

"Stop fidgeting," Akari orders, and Hirato gazes up at the man leaning over him.

"I'm not moving at all," he says amiably, but his eyebrows knit together as the liquid burns the wounds on his skin. "I believe you could stand to be a little gentler though."

"If I were to be gentler, this would take longer." Akari's eyes drift across the small cuts covering Hirato's torso and land on the large gash in his right arm. A tightly wrapped tourniquet keeps it from bleeding freely, but the dark red that soaks Hirato's shirt, currently lying on the floor, makes Akari more than a tad concerned. But upon examining the injury, he finds his worries to be unfounded. Although it had bled a lot, it wasn't something Hirato could have died from. "You were lucky you didn't cut through anything important. Your radial and ulnar arteries are intact. If they had been severed you would be in much worse shape."

"You make it sound as if I did this to myself, doctor," Hirato teases, and Akari presses against his wounds with a bit more force than necessary.

"You might as well have," Akari mutters. Rising and taking a needle from a nearby unlocked cart, he flicks it a few times before stabbing it into Hirato's arm without warning. Hirato's grimace of pain is, admittedly, nice to see, but Akari knows soon his arm will be numb enough from the medicine he just injected to be cleaned and stitched up.

The moment his arm is stitched back together and tourniquet removed Hirato moves as if to stand, and Akari pushes against his chest until he is once again lying down. "You are not going anywhere. I skipped on taking your vitals because you seemed to be bleeding to death. But now I'm going to take them and make sure you have no less visible injuries."

"Yes sir," Hirato says wryly, and he doesn't fight it as the cold stethoscope touches his bare chest then moves down to his lungs. He gives Akari his hand when told to do so without arguing, and even though Akari's expression remains unreadable, his mind races with observations and theories. Cyanotic nail beds… Most likely his mucous membranes will be blue too, but I refuse to go near his mouth and let him make a snarky comment… Where the hell is the pulse oximeter? No matter, he's obviously in shock by how he's acting and the pallor of his skin, leaving alone the oxygen. He'll need manual oxygen if he isn't getting enough though… But what about his brain? Concussion is more than possible; it's likely.

The captain winces as his head is pulled back roughly by his hair and a small, bright light shines into his eyes. "Your pupils are different sizes," Akari notes, releasing the other man and jotting down a few notes. "How well can you see? Any blurring?"

"No, I can still see your pretty little face just fine," Hirato replies with a smile. He intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on his knees and his chin on his crossed hands.

"The way your eyes are late to move when I move, even though you're watching me, suggests otherwise." Akari sets the pad down on the table and grabs the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. "I don't have to tell you to hold still, do I?"

"Of course not. Would you please get me something to drink after this?" Hirato asks as he watches the cuff inflate around his bicep. "Water would be lovely."

Akari doesn't answer until he removes the stethoscope from his ears. "No. You're apt to throw up if I do, and I refuse to have you aspirate on me. You're in shock, and you have a concussion." He turns his back on Hirato and returns to his desk for a moment. "I'm ordering an MRI. I need to see inside your sku—"

A thud from behind him makes him stop, and he spins around to see Hirato lying awkwardly on the floor, eyes closed and face even paler than before.

Akari doesn't hesitate for even a second. His knees are on the ground and his hands on Hirato's still body, two fingers pressed into the groove of his neck and his ear centimeters away from the other man's open mouth. His mind races as he feels for the pulse and watches for any movement of Hirato's chest. It could be that the shock made him fall unconscious at last or lack of oxygen since he doesn't appear to be breathing but what if it's head trauma his concussion could have been bad what if it's a major cerebral hemorrhage or it could be something else entirely—

His pulse is weak and too quick but still there. His breathing, however, is not. Akari, reacting just as quickly as before, tilts back Hirato's head, takes a breath, and starts to press his lips to the unconscious man's. He doesn't expect it when Hirato's lips press back, and he jerks away in surprise and uncertainty as to whether or not that was simply a reflex. But when Hirato begins laughing, it's apparent it was a trick.

"Next time you pull such a stunt, I'm going to leave you to die in a pool of your own blood and vomit," Akari threatens, but Hirato just chuckles.

"I know you would never do that, A-ka-ri-chan," Hirato enunciates with a lilt to his voice. He stands, wobbling a bit on his feet, and sits back on the table, breathing heavily.

Akari crosses his arms, irritated and unwilling to agree that no, he would never do that. "Even though you faked falling unconscious, you still have a concussion, and I'm still ordering that MRI."

Hirato's entire being seems to droop, and Akari's smirk is victorious. After all, no one enjoys the whirring tunnel of the MRI. But, taking pity on the man (only because he is in shock and that makes him have true emotions like a normal person, Akari reasons), Akari leans forward and presses their lips together again, in a kiss this time. "I have to be sure you aren't going to die of internal bleeding. I wouldn't be too happy about that," he breathes, pulling back only slightly, and he can feel Hirato's grin as the captain kisses him once again.