Inori snorts. "He fusses worse than you do," he tells Tōkan.

"But I am, objectively speaking, fine."

"You don't have broken bones," Subaru corrects him. "You still got beat up everywhere, you have a limp—"

"That was just for a bit!"

"You're confirming all the stereotypes, let the people who love you take care of you you numbnuts."

Sigh. "Well, fine, you wanna take care of me? Why don't we go to my apartment and I lie down with this ice," gesturing at the pack the doctor gave him, "while the two of you pamper me."

"Sounds good," says Subaru.

Inori nods along with it.

"—wait no you're not meant to agree!"

"Get fucked."

"You said 'not now'."

"That was then. This is now."

Subaru splutters and blushes.

"Is your rich boy car still waiting for us?"

"—yeah. Uh."

"What? You wanted a threesome, I'm fine with that, if he's fine with that we can do it."

Subaru is suddenly taken by a coughing fit and doesn't immediately say anything.

"You're not even in heat. Have I corrupted you that much?"

"Yes. Next question."

Tōkan honestly does not know what to say to that. Also there's the car so he doesn't have to.

They go to Tōkan's apartment because his house might contain his father (well, technically so might his apartment, but his father actually does in theory live in their house) and once they're up there Subaru gently but firmly places Tōkan on a sofa and glares him down.

"So, about that pampering."

"I'll go make dinner," Inori declares, pulling his mask off and dropping his pipe next to the door.

Tōkan sighs long-sufferingly. "I don't want to hold the ice there anymore I'm starting to go numb."

"Show me the bruise."

He does.