#shobia

Shoyo wasn’t good at being sick. He was better than before he’d gone to Brazil, certainly, but no amount of knowing how much rest would benefit him could keep him from feeling restless in bed.

“Guys,” he croaked, listening to the bustle of his teammates in the kitchen, “I can get my own food and stuff!”

A resounding “NO!” hit him from the kitchen, making him wince at what his neighbors would think of the noise. Or maybe it was because of his headache.

Okay, so he felt like shit. He could at least admit that now, which was an improvement from yesterday, when he’d tried refusing to leave practice early despite his stuffy nose. He’d been sent home, stuffed into Sakusa’s car (a very pleasant surprise — not even his layered masks could take away from the thoughtfulness) and carted to a last-minute doctor’s appointment, where he got diagnosed with a sinus infection and received a prescription for some fast-acting antibiotics.

But those antibiotics still required three days of doses, plus a few day afterwards for them to run their course. Hinata could only hope he’d be allowed back into practice before he was back to 100%, or he’d be crawling out of his skin from a full week without volleyball.

He felt his eyes growing heavy despite wanting to at least stay awake for the guys to finish making him dinner. It was only Sakusa’s entrance that roused him from his doze. “Ah. Were you sleeping?”

“Mm…no,” Shoyo mumbled, shaking his head as though he could shake the drowsiness out. “What’s up?”

“Just clearing these out so you’ll have space for more later.” Sakusa collected the empty mugs from Shoyo’s bedside table and balanced them in his arms with surprising steadiness. “The others are almost done cooking. Do you need anything before eating?”

Shoyo began to shake his head, before he felt something outside of his stuffy nose, sore throat, and persistent headache. “Just the bathroom.” Sakusa looked panicked for a moment, looking from his full arms to Shoyo unsteadily standing up, and Shoyo couldn’t help laughing, “I don’t need help to go to the bathroom, Omi-san, I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t— I was just—” Sakusa gave up with a huff and marched back to the kitchen. “Fine.”

Shoyo hadn’t been lying — a sinus infection wasn’t going to make him need help just to walk around the apartment. But he did end up needing a bit more time in the bathroom than usual, the building pressure in his head making him move much more slowly, and by the time he shuffled back to his bedroom, Bokuto was sitting on his bed with a tray on his lap, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. He looked awfully serious about something before he noticed Shoyo and a smile split across his face. “There you are! I thought the soup would get cold before you could eat it!”

“Soup’s not gonna get cold in five minutes, Bokkun,” Atsumu sighed from where he lounged in the chair at Shoyo’s desk. He looked up from his phone to watch Shoyo as he climbed back into bed. “Everything alright?”

“Mm…yeah, just…everything hurts. And my nose is stuffy no matter how much I try to blow it.”

“Yeah, we can hear that.” The words were chuckled, but Shoyo could hear the undercurrent of concern in them.

“That’s what we made this soup for!” Bokuto declared. He’d stood up with the tray to let Shoyo climb under the covers, and now he carefully balanced the tray on his lap. “You can eat that and take some medicine!”

“Thanks, guys.” There was an ache in Shoyo’s throat that he couldn’t blame on sinus drainage. “I really appreciate all this.”

Atsumu let out a soft laugh as he stood up and began making his way to the bedroom door. “No need to thank us, we’re not being totally selfless here. We gotta make sure our greatest decoy is back out there before the next set of matches!”

For the first time that day, Shoyo felt a sharp grin pull at his lips. “I will be! I promise!”

It would never fail to pleasantly surprise him, how much his teammates really cared about him. He was used to having teammates that he could also consider a family of sorts, but that didn’t mean he appreciated them feeding him and cleaning up the kitchen for him any less. He’d told Kageyama all about the different ways his team was helping out, just to reassure him that he was “fine” and that “no, Tobio, you don’t have to come all the way from Tokyo.”

Speaking of. Shoyo glanced at his phone with a small frown. He hadn’t received any new messages from Kageyama since before dinner, and he’d said he would call sometime tonight. Maybe something had come up. He’d probably call later.

And then he didn’t.

Nor did he call the next morning. Shoyo didn’t bring it up — it didn’t really matter, especially when Kageyama was still texting him to check in — but it was a little unusual. It was the first time he’d missed a call without letting Shoyo know before or after.

Then a few hours passed, and Shoyo blinked awake from yet another nap (how was he sleeping so much and still feeling so crummy?) to find his phone screen empty of any text notifications from his boyfriend. The last message he’d received was a few hours ago.

Which was fine. It was fine. Maybe he had a morning practice that he hadn’t told Shoyo about. Things happened, things came up, and it was fine. He was fine. They were fine.

Never mind the fact that he huddled back under the covers with a frown, holding his phone up to his face as if staring at it would make new messages appear. He ended up dozing off to the sound of one of Kenma’s old streams and a distinct lack of messages from Kageyama.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to wait for a message at all.

“Shoyo?”

His eyes flew open, and his head swam from how quickly he sat up. “…Tobi?!”

Sure enough, his bedroom doorway soon framed the figure of Kageyama, a smirk on his face and a steaming mug in his hand. “Wow. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Shoyo laughed thickly. “What’re you doing here? What’s that? Here, lemme—”

He started pushing his covers off, only to be stopped by Kageyama’s firm, “Don’t! Don’t get up.”

Shoyo automatically fell back against his pillows, though not without a petulant pout. “I’m sick, Tobi, I don’t wanna get you sick, too.”

“Sinus infections aren’t contagious, dumbass.”

“How do you—?”

“Bokuto-san told me. He answered your phone when I called yesterday.”

“Wait.” Shoyo’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing at Kageyama. “So you did call? You just talked to Bokuto-san instead?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you call again and actually talk to me?”

Kageyama blinked, his ears reddening as his perplexed silence stretched. “I…I was worried about you. I was focused on how I could help.”

Shoyo rolled his eyes before curling up under his covers. “That’s why I didn’t want the guys to say anything to you.”

“I would’ve known something was wrong the second I heard you talk. You sound like you have cotton balls filling your head.”

“Are you here to help me or bully me?”

“I can do both.” True to his word, Kageyama carefully perched next to Shoyo, running his free fingers through the ginger hair that peeked out of the covers. “C’mon, sit up and drink this while it’s hot.”

With a whine, Shoyo pushed himself upright again, grimacing at the way the pressure in his head seemed to intensify with the change in angle. He missed the concern in Kageyama’s eyes as he took the mug, and was startled when he heard, “That bad?”

“Yeah. But it’s only this bad for a day or two. And if the antibiotics work like they’re supposed to, I should be good to get back to practice on Monday.” He took a careful sip, and let out a content hum when he tasted tea with ginger and honey.

“Don’t push yourself, dumbass. Give yourself time to actually get better.”

Shoyo’s heart squeezed at the worry lining Kageyama’s face. He gently nudged him with his knee under the covers and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, but was probably more teasing. “I know. Why can’t you believe I’m better at taking care of myself?”

Kageyama’s concern melted into annoyance, a sight Shoyo was much more used to. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well…I guess that’s fine, if it means you’ll keep taking care of me like this.”

And now the annoyance turned into embarrassment. Shoyo could easily spend his whole day making Kageyama’s face flicker through the whole range of human emotion. “Shut up and drink your tea.”

“It’s yummy, thank you!”

“It’s not supposed to be yummy, it’s supposed to help your throat. Is it working?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” Kageyama sat there in a self-satisfied silence, watching Shoyo sip at his tea with a small smile. For someone who was so bad with words, Kageyama was rarely this quiet around Shoyo, especially with soft adoration etched into each line of his face. Shoyo loved it, felt his own adoration blooming in his chest until he couldn’t help but nestle close enough to rest his head on Kageyama’s shoulder. And Kageyama let him, staying completely still except to let his cheek pillow against Shoyo’s hair.

They stayed sitting like that until Shoyo finally finished his tea with a dramatic, “Ahhh! All done!” He met Kageyama’s mildly annoyed stare with a sunny smile as he handed the empty mug over. “Thanks, Tobi!”

“Mm. Are you hungry?”

“I guess I could eat.”

“Good. I got you ramen for lunch, and tamago kake gohan for dinner.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. I would’ve made something, but I didn’t have time between practice and the train, and it would’ve been cold by the time I got here anyway. After you eat, you can have some cold medicine.” He patted Shoyo’s covered legs as he stood, only to be stopped by a hand around his free fingers. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you,” Shoyo said with a small pout, satisfaction bubbling up when Kageyama rolled his eyes and bent close enough for him to press their lips together. “Thank you, Tobio. Seriously. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” With a final kiss and tiny grin, Kageyama made his way to the kitchen, leaving Shoyo to snuggle back under the covers and listen to the sounds of his boyfriend bustling around.

He liked to think he was pretty good about counting his blessings — he had a career he loved, all of his hard work towards his goals had paid off so far, he had a nice apartment, got along great with his team, had time to visit home at least once a month. And somehow, on top of all that, the universe also let him reunite with the man that he was increasingly certain was the love of his life.

Yes, he tried to stay aware of how good he had it. But that didn’t stop moments like this from taking his breath away with how lucky he felt. It made tears of joy prick at his eyes, and when Kageyama next poked his head into the room, it was to see Shoyo blowing his nose. “D’you wanna eat in here, or are you feeling up for getting out of bed?” he asked once Shoyo threw away the tissue with a bleary sniff.

“Can I eat in the living room? We’ve got a match against Raijin soon — I should watch some old games while I’m stuck inside.”

With that, Shoyo was soon set up on the floor with a blanket around his shoulders, his ramen steaming on the coffee table, and an old Raijin vs Falcons match on the tv. Kageyama was on the couch behind him, munching away at a pork onigiri from Onigiri Miya. As soon as they were both done eating, Shoyo crawled onto the couch, settled himself between Kageyama’s legs, and nestled into his chest. “Don’t get too comfortable,” Kageyama mumbled, despite his arms tightening around Shoyo. “You need to take some medicine while you’re full.”

“Mm…after the game.” He felt a sigh ruffle his hair, but Kageyama didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t end up getting any cough medicine. What he did get was an impromptu nap, and when he suddenly blinked awake to a blue light from the tv, he was also treated to the sound of a soft snore above his head. “Yama,” he groaned with a laugh, “Yama, wake up.”

Kageyama snapped awake with a snort and “…shit.”

“Good nap?”

“Shit,” he repeated instead of an answer. “So much for your medicine.”

“It’s ok, I think the broth helped clear my nose for a little bit.” When he pushed himself upright, he saw evidence of his nose clearing up, in the form of a dried patch of snot on Kageyama’s shirt. “…Oops.”

“Christ,” Kageyama muttered with a soft laugh. Without any further warning, he sat up just enough to strip the shirt off, leaving himself half-naked as he slouched back into the couch. His brows raised at the open appreciation on Shoyo’s face. “…Don’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t need to, perv! How are you horny when you’re sick?”

Shoyo shrugged with a beatific grin. “Well, my skin does feel eeeextra sensitive when I’m sick.” He let a hand drift up Kageyama’s torso as he spoke, until it came to a rest against his collarbones. Hope sparked in him when he felt a shudder run through Kageyama, but then his wandering hand was caught and pulled away.

“I’m not gonna let you suffocate and die because you wanted to suck me off while you had a stuffy nose.”

“Who said anything about me sucking you off?”

“And getting snot all over me isn’t my idea of a sexy time.”

“Boooooo, killjoy,” Shoyo grouched, slouching into a lump of sniffles and blankets.

“Just take your medicine, dumbass.” Kageyama got up, presumably to throw his shirt into the laundry and get the cough syrup. Shoyo tried to stay awake, he really did, and he even thought he was successful…until he woke up to fingers pinching his cheek. “Go to bed.”

“Owwww,” he whined, swatting at Kageyama’s hand. “Can’t you wake me up with a kiss or something? Akaashi-san never wakes Bokuto-san up with pinching.”

“Too bad I’m not Akaashi-san. Take this and go to bed.”

Shoyo frowned at the tiny plastic cup of cough syrup being shoved at him, but the sight of a glass of orange juice in Kageyama’s other hand motivated him to take the cup and tilt it all into his mouth in one go. His face immediately crumpled at the taste, and he started grabbing at the orange juice, ignoring the snort he earned as he finally snatched it. “God, that’s gross,” he sighed when he eventually lowered the glass. It was still half-full — it was impossible to properly chug with a stuffy nose.

“I’ve seen you put away shots that could be gasoline,” Kageyama scoffed. “Quit being so dramatic.”

“Quit being so mean.”

“Quit stalling and go to bed.” Kageyama plucked the half-empty glass from Shoyo’s hand and stared down at him with raised eyebrows.

Shoyo tried to stare him down in return. He didn’t last long. With a huff, he slouched his way off the couch and shuffled back to bed, unaware of how childlike he looked with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and trailing after him on the floor.

He left his blanket strewn haphazardly at the foot of his bed as he climbed under the covers, ready to snuggle into Kageyama as soon as he joined him. Turned out, his body had different plans.

One moment, Shoyo was getting settled against his pillows. The next, he was blinking awake in a darkness that was only broken by the light sneaking in through his curtains. There was an arm draped heavy over his waist, a solid warmth against his back, and soft breaths tickling his neck. He tried to carefully turn over so he could snuggle closer to the warmth, but he’d barely even shuffled before he heard a low voice at his ear. “Morning, lazy.”

“It’s not morning,” Shoyo laughed quietly, flipping around more quickly now that he knew Kageyama was already awake. “And I’m not lazy, I’m sick!”

Kageyama just gave a noncommittal hum in response, but there was no mistaking the sleepy adoration lining his heavy-lidded gaze and soft smile. “Are you ready for dinner?” he asked, as though he weren’t burrowing deeper into his pillow and holding Shoyo a little tighter.