He was laughing helplessly now, tears making tracks down his cheeks as he fumbled to try and pull the kimono off of Kusuriyuri's head, and failed. He could feel the not-pain of his wounds protesting on all the strain of laughing, and forced himself to take deep breaths, calming just enough to get a handful of kimono and tug it away. Then he dug his heels into the bed and pushed himself further on so his legs wouldn't dangle, ending up with his feet on the headboard and his head to Kusuriyuri's.

It wasn't the most dignified of positions, but it was something.