#juuen

YOU & ME  (ᶜᵘʳʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ: ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᶤᶰᵍ)

@juuen

ACTION & REACTION (ᶜᵘʳʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ: ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᶤᶰᵍ)

◎ = taking care of them while ill.@juuen

Fuyuhiko hates being sick; stuffed up nose, sore throat, fever, headache. He chooses instead to ignore all signs of sickness in favor of going through his normal routine. He wasn’t going to let some stupid bug set him back, thank you very much.

It had been a rush of a day (only an hour or two, really), things happening around him that he didn’t even notice through the blur of his mind. Eventually, he’d run into Hinata; from there, he was shoved along into the other’s home. His own house had been deemed ‘too far away’, so Hinata’s it was.

There was soup, and blankets, and a slew of bad comedy movies (all interjected by the sniffle of Fuyuhiko’s nose). It was nice– a day to themselves, where neither of them had to concentrate on anything for too long.

Eventually, they’d fallen asleep to the gentle murmur of the television, curled up together in a large quilt. 

It surprised Fuyuhiko when he woke up in a place that was clearly not his own, tucked under the arm of someone else. Afer realizing where he was and who he was with, he calmed down; deciding to get ready for the day.

A protesting Hinata stopped him halfway through, telling him that he was still ‘too sick’, and ‘needed to take another day off’. Bull-fucking-shit. 

“I’m fine, dumbass. Really.”

TXT.  (ᶜᵘʳʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ: ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᶤᶰᵍ)

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. @juuen

SING NEW, SING GOOD  (ᶜᵘʳʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ: ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᶤᶰᵍ)

When the world gets too heavyPut it on my back I’ll be your levyYou are taking me apart like bad glueOn a get well card

@juuen

The two are splayed out on Hinata’s couch; limbs tangled together in a mass of fingers and joints.

Fuyuhiko’s chin is resting somewhere on Hinata’s chest, arms stretched out in front of him. He’s akin to a cat; all lithe limbs and slitted eyes as he peers up at the brunette he’s laid upon. His fingers curl into the fabric of Hinata’s shirt as he stretches, shoulders rolling back as he extends his arms and legs.

He’s pretty sure the other is still asleep, the sound of raindrops on the window urging Fuyuhiko to slip back into sleep’s inky fingers as well. His eyes slide towards the television, the only source of good light in the room. He want’s to turn it off; to go the fuck back to sleep, but one of his hands is surrounded by Hinata’s (and he’s not going to stop him).

He scootches upwards on the couch, careful not to jostle the other too badly. He’s finally tucked his chin neatly into the crook of Hinata’s neck when the other finally stirs, fingers tightening around Fuyuhiko’s hand.

He makes a noise of annoyance, at that; tucking his face in further and mumbling something about how ‘now you’re getting up?’. 

There’s one more groan before he lifts himself up, blinking blearily at Hinata.