#bokuaka sickfic

[lilimonarch]

Doctor Hanahaki - If you stay. [4]

Doctor Hanahaki

Chapter 4

WC: 5485

After a rough night, Akaashi comes down with a bad flu and he makes a simple mistake with his impaired feverish logic. Though he does realize he has more people looking out for him than he realizes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47404093/chapters/126061117

~

“You look like shit.”

Akaashi looked up from his computer to see Sugawara with a deadpan expression. Hello? Rude. He thought to himself before fixing his glasses. “Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. They were about to open the clinic and the two of them got here early, Nurse Shimizu was just about to arrive.

Sugawara had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “See, all doctors have eyebags but not like those. I said it, and I’ll say it again. You, Dr. Akaashi, look like utter shit.” Nurse Tanaka Shimizu walked in the hall to see her two doctor coworkers bickering, Akaashi with a scowl. “Kiyoko! Doesn’t Akaashi look like utter shit?” Sugawara grinned.

“It’s 7 in the morning, this much profanity at 7 in the morning?” Akaashi shook his head, laying his head on the keyboard. Sure, he woke up this morning with a bit of a headache… if one could even count waking up at 2 in the morning as today. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. You’re on my side, aren’t you?”

The one lady of reason looked between the two boys, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “I’m sorry, Akaashi. Sugawara is right, you look quite exhausted and deathly pale. Even paler than Sugawara,” she commented plainly, getting a small scold from Dr. Sugawara. “In all seriousness, are you feeling alright?”

They were doctors who lacked self-care, but as it was their job to enforce care on others, they had picked the habit of knowing how to do so on their coworkers. This worried Akaashi, for he knew his two friends would notice he was off before he did (and they were right a good 60% of the time). Despite this, Akaashi had a feeling he was right this time, he just had not slept very well.

He simply nodded, doing his best to ignore his coworkers doting as he reached for some ibuprofen to ease the headache. “I just did not sleep too well last night. Thanks for your concern, at least someone is kind to me,” Akaashi smiled, Sugawara shaking his head. “Alright, we open in less than two hours. The receptionists and other nurses should be here soon.”

“Only the Thursday before valentine’s day,” Sugawara happily mentioned, Shimizu also smiling a bit. Right, they are both married. Akaashi had to remind himself he was indeed the odd one out, happily single. Most people his age were married and here he was not, but that was fine! Everyone moved at their own pace, or in Akaashi’s case, he didn’t… that’s also fine. “We got this. Ready team? Break!”

Akaashi swore it was just a headache, just fatigue, he was just fine. Going through patients one after the other, he was surprised his only Hanahaki patient scheduled for today was Bokuto. There was a quick break as he took another pill, seeing Sugawara come out of his pediatrics room, covered in flowers sticking to his white coat. “Hanahaki?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, sipping some water to swallow the pill down.

“Akaashi, you lucked out. All my patients are Hanahaki today! Every. Single. One.” If Akaashi did not know better, he would think Sugawara was getting annoyed by the Hanahaki valentine’s day rush. Though, if he thought about it more logically, the rush came after valentine’s day, giving those lovesick patients a chance for their broken hearts to flower. Sugawara took off the coat full of blood-soaked flower petals before replacing it with a new one, physically taking a few seconds to force the kind smile his patients loved him for. “You almost done with yours?”

“I’m a bit behind but Nurse Tanaka is giving me a few minutes before she sends for me,” Akaashi mumbled, massaging the pulsing temples on the side of his head.

“Behind, as per usual,” Sugawara grinned, frowning a bit at Akaashi’s state. “Are you sure you are feeling alright?” It wasn’t his typical joking frown, but one of genuine concern which Akaashi appreciated, but he did not need.

“Yes, Suga. It’s just a killer headache,” Akaashi smiled a bit, Shimizu waving to him from down the hall before handing him a clipboard of the data she took. “Good luck with that patient.” Akaashi had to get away, perhaps it was more than just a night of little sleep.

It was the anxieties of all the rumors spreading around. A new variant of Hanahaki which would surely take the world by storm one day, a patient he did not know how to help, and a troubling dream which seemed too real to be just a dream. False information about a surgery which saved his life, and an inevitable rush he was not sure he could be prepared for. “Hey… oh!” Akaashi was startled as he saw Bokuto in the room, a sheepish smile on his face. Looking down at the clipboard, the papers did indeed say Bokuto Koutarou. “Sorry, I thought I was behind. If you’re here, I’m on time for once.”

“No worries,” Bokuto smiled, sitting on the medical bench while he coughed a few petals into a bucket beside him. A cough he just couldn't shake, though that was essentially Hanahaki in itself. “So… there are the test results, but I couldn’t understand most of their fancy wording.” Right, the lab results. Akaashi had looked them over in detail, he just did not expect Bokuto to be here so quickly. Had the time passed him by this rapidly? Akaashi felt his breath hitch in his throat as he blanked out. “Dr. Akaashi?”

“Oh, of course. Let’s look them over, shall we?” Akaashi smiled a bit, pulling out two copies of the lab results, one for him to keep. Hanahajou, a new disease. Akaashi was not one to sugar-coat the direness of the situation, though Bokuto seemed to be the kind of person who could swallow such truths. Possible symptoms discussed, a prognosis Akaashi could not confirm nor deny.

He did not want to say death, not just yet. The idea was very much present in Akaashi’s mind as was the unnerving pull he felt from when they first met, tugging at his heartstrings. “Right, are you sure this person will never love you?” Getting their feelings resolved would make this much easier, though Akaashi did watch as Bokuto shook his head. “And there is no scenario in which you get over him?”

“Wait, I have a question,” Bokuto’s eyes lit up a bit, a playful smirk growing. “So, if Hanahaki is caused by unrequited love, can’t you just… make me stop feeling love?” It almost seemed that Bokuto was avoiding the question, but Akaashi was not going to push forward. Love was complicated, after all.

Well, Akaashi wouldn’t know but love is complicated.

“That is what the surgery does, but we can’t use the current version of the surgery on your type of Hanahaki.”

“No, like…” Bokuto thought about it for a bit. “What if I got completely knocked out, can’t feel love if I’m unconscious!” Bokuto smiled, Akaashi returning the facial expression at Bokuto’s attempts at alternate cures.

Despite his attempts, it would be pointless. “Your subconscious would still feel love, and I am not having you get knocked out,” he let out a small chuckle, Bokuto’s face brightening before he coughed a few flower petals, these stained with the crimson liquid Akaashi knew far too well. “There is no way of medically giving you amnesia without risking your life, so that is also not an option, just to save you from asking. Even if there was, your subconscious would remember, and we are back at square one.” The idea terrified him, though there weren’t many cases of it. Hanahaki in amnesia patients, a disease they can’t cure if they can’t even remember who gave it to them.

“Basically, you are telling me I either get over this person or I die,” Bokuto’s face fell flat, but there was no resentment in his voice. “You sound a certain way when you try to avoid a topic, Dr. Akaashi.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “Or… maybe you’ll live with Hanahajou the rest of your long life. Chronic Hanahaki is also a thing, but to be honest, I am doubting there’s a slow and chronic Hanahajou.” Akaashi could not understand, did his voice change when he tried to avoid a topic? Perhaps he raised his voice, or his face looked different. Did he lower his pitch, or did he heighten it? How could Bokuto tell he was trying to avoid it?

“Okay, so you are telling me I either get over this person or I die.”

“…Possibly, unless he returns the feelings,” Akaashi expected tears, distress even, but not much of a negative reaction came from Bokuto. He was silent at first but seemed to brush it off. “I don’t know how long it will take and we are discovering new information about Hanahajou every day, but I’ll do everything I can to help you, Bokuto.”

“I know, you always do.” Bokuto brought his hand out to shake Akaashi’s, who expected. The touch reminded him of something, a feeling from long ago which he could not remember. “I have one more question.”

“Yes, Bokuto?”

Bokuto seemed a bit nervous, and it was a contrast from the confidence Akaashi had picked up on as part of his character. “Do you… want to go grab coffee later?” I’m free when you finish work if you aren’t busy. I’ll be honest, it looks like you need it,” Bokuto let out a small chuckle before letting out a coughing fit full of bloodied cherry blossoms into the sink of the room. It took a few seconds as Bokuto pulled away to recover, picking up the petals and throwing them in the trash before washing his hands. “There’s a quiet place I know from a friend of a friend. Onigiri and coffee, it’s an interesting combo to some but I like it.”

Akaashi could feel his face lighting up at the mention of onigiri. Was it professional to be going to have onigiri and coffee with a patient of his? No, absolutely not. Yet, it was also rude to reject a kind offer from someone, especially since he just told Bokuto he was very likely to die from this disease. “Um, sure. Is six alright?”

“Six is just fine.”

Six rolled around and Akaashi drove up to the location Bokuto had messaged him, a sign reading Onigiri Miya at the top. Despite Akaashi’s love for onigiri, he had never been to the place. Typically, he had gone to other restaurants or even made his own. The day had dragged, going on much slower than usual, and Akaashi had started to predict his headache would be developing into something worse.

I’m already inside, just tell the man at the front you’re with me and he’ll tell you where I’m at! A message from Bokuto, Akaashi smiling a bit and just going along with it. Heading to the front desk, a man with ashen gray hair and a solemn expression sweeping behind the desk.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya, I’m Miya Osamu. How can I help you today?” Osamu looked up from his focus on sweeping, Akaashi looking around and seeing how decent the restraint did. It was humble yet packed at the same time without being overfilled. An equilibrium between homey and successful, Akaashi wondered if one could be both.

Akaashi read the text to ease his social anxiety before making his statement heard. “I’m here with Bokuto Koutarou, he told me to tell you I was with him, and you would tell me where to go.” Akaashi looked around at the decorations, one sticking out above the rest. A decent sized poster with a man looking strikingly similar to the restaurant worker, just with hair dyed yellow rather than gray. The man posed with a volleyball in one hand, Astumu Miya in big letters on the side. “You know him?” Akaashi asked about the poster.

Osamu’s face faltered a bit when he said his name, before nodding in response to Akaashi’s question. “We’re twins, couldn’t you tell?” Osamu winked; his gaze snarky; Akaashi rolled his eyes. “He played for the same team Bokuto did a while back. He’s now an assistant coach for some high school powerhouse.” So that is how Bokuto knew of this place, how they may have been friends. “Right, you’re with Bokuto. Follow me,” Osamu gave a small smile and led Akaashi to a seemingly innocent door, which led up to some stairs. Akaashi followed and soon found himself on a small balcony breathing the cool air of the city, much quieter than inside the place. There, in front of him, sat Bokuto with a pot of coffee and treats.

“Hey! Akaashi! You made it!” Bokuto smiled and waved the doctor over, pouring him a cup of coffee. If Akaashi knew better, he would call this a secretive date. Yet, Akaashi does not know better, sees the nice gesture, and sits down to immediately start drinking the coffee. A doctor’s best friend: caffeine. It was almost as if Bokuto knew exactly what he needed as Akaashi poured the first cup. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah, per usual,” Akaashi let a sly smile grow on his face as he finished the first cup, relaxing as the warmth of the coffee heated up his chilling body, melting his heart along with it. A kind gesture, Akaashi eyelids dropping as he drank the coffee, opening them to see Bokuto’s gaze dead on him before his eyes darted away. Akaashi raised an eyebrow, but a small pang in his heart caught his attention for a split second. “What?” Akaashi laughed, setting the cup down. “Never see a doctor enjoying the drink of the gods?”

That made Bokuto smile in return, the taller male letting out a laugh only interrupted by the coughs Akaashi had known for most his life. “No, I’ve seen it plenty before,” Bokuto grinned, taking a sip from his own cup. It made Akaashi realize he was… on his third cup of the day? Bokuto only drank one, and maybe the disease slowly eating away at his respiratory abilities affected it, but Akaashi knew drinking this much was unhealthy. Was he that tired?

His thoughts were interrupted by another laugh from Bokuto, a laugh which brought peace to his mind. “You remind me of someone, that’s all. It’s… nice.”

Akaashi hesitantly puts the cup down, though he does not feel judged by Bokuto in the slightest. If anything, there is a comforting aura around the former volleyball player. Bokuto and his large honey-colored eyes, his constant positive outlook to life, Akaashi could grow to like that about him. The way their conversation seemed to continue effortlessly, only interrupted by the sudden chills bracing Akaashi’s body or Bokuto’s Hanahajou coughs.

“What’s your favorite color?” Bokuto asked, holding up one of the pieces of onigiri to his mouth and softly biting into it. There was a certain nostalgic feeling, the look of nostalgia in Bokuto’s eyes.

Akaashi wondered if the person he reminded Bokuto of was the man who gave him Hanahaki, but only for a second.

“Gray,” a quick and empty response. If Akaashi was honest, he hadn’t truly put much thought into his favorite color. That seemed to be such a narrow-minded decision, to have a passionate opinion on… a color. Most of his stuff was white, black, or gray. A lot of his furniture was on the monochromatic level, so Akaashi figured his favorite color could be gray. “Yours?”

“Purple,” again, Bokuto answered almost immediately, though he seemed much happier with his response. “Yeah, it’s cool and calming, with some flair. Purple has personality, so that’s why I like purple.” Ah, it appeared Bokuto had a reasoning much better than simply being the color of most furniture.

They continued to talk, though it appeared as time went on, Bokuto dominated more and more of the conversation with each passing minute. Again, Akaashi did not mind; he was content to listen. Favorite colors, to favorite sports, until Bokuto started ranting about his volleyball days. Akaashi liked that conversation in particular.

“Are you alright? Dr. ‘Kaashi? You’re shivering.”

“Am I?” Akaashi suddenly became self-conscious of himself and the way he held himself, the way he was huddled in on himself, his skin seemingly much more pale than usual. Even he could recognize it. “I suppose it’s a bit colder than usual.” He wasn’t even given much of a moment to respond before Bokuto was taking off his hoodie, handing it to Akaashi.

“You’d think a doctor would be more dressed for the weather. Put it on, you’ll catch something if you get too cold.”

“It’s scientifically proven being out in the cold doesn’t make you sick,” Akaashi rolled his eyes, his hands feeling the fabric against his skin. A soft comforting cotton against his hands far too dry to be considered normal (that’ll be the hand sanitizer). He wouldn’t say Bokuto was right, so he put the hoodie on.

“Yeah, but hypothermia is a very real thing,” Bokuto declared, almost looking as if he was proud of himself. “You do look tired, long day. Maybe go get some sleep, I know how you doctors don’t get enough of that.”

Akaashi chuckled a bit, feeling quite humored. “After that amount of coffee? I wish.”

“So… I’ll see you soon, Dr. Akaashi?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, burying his hands into his pants pockets. Akaashi felt partially guilty about taking Bokuto’s hoodie, but the other did offer. The only thing worse than taking an offering is rejecting his said offering.

A sudden pang was felt in his chest, his own chest feeling a quick tighten and the need to cough. Akaashi almost panicked, but he felt no petals in his throat. There were no harsh coughs he saw from all his Hanahaki patients, just one cough. The air was dry, he simply needed to clear his throat. “I’m not on the clock right now,” he let out a small smile. “Just Akaashi is quite alright.”

Bokuto simply smiled. “Right, I’ll see you around.”

A part of Akaashi hoped he would not have to see Bokuto again.

He immediately went to his car, feeling the drive home start to drag out much longer. He kept the hoodie on, waddling within its warmth and comfort. Akaashi knew his mind was much foggier than usual, though it appeared he wasn’t getting lost in his thoughts, he was simply aching. Aching all over, physically and mentally. Humans were social animals; perhaps all the isolation other than work was catching up to him.

He sat on his couch and soon enough, Akaashi fell asleep into a fitful slumber.

~

The first thing Akaashi had noticed when he woke up was how much he regretted doing so in the first place. His mind was swimming, drowning in one of the worst headaches of his life. He could hardly keep himself upright as he sat up and while his face felt heated and flushed, the rest of his body was shivering beyond control. While his throat was only slightly scratchy the day before, he woke up with a burning soreness in his throat and all around, a not good feeling.

Even worse, he was too delusional to even assess how this may affect him at work.

Faintly, he could see Nariko begging him to sit down, to let the dizziness subside and just call in sick, but that wasn’t correct. Akaashi Keiji didn’t get sick, not since he was in a hospital and for the wrong reason. It was just- his mind was making sense since he found himself in his car, dressed and ready for work despite the cat’s concerns. His nose was plugged, and any logic left in his brain knew he was clearly congested and in no shape for work, yet here Akaashi was, slowly but surely driving to the clinic. The drive felt inconsistent as his vision became filled with spots until he hardly managed to park in the parking lot, hardly self-conscious of his idiocy.

It didn’t make sense, it didn’t make sense, it didn’t make-

A sharp cough ran through his body as he stumbled trying to reach for the door handle, his hand dropping as his body fell against the door. Any logic he may have had was nonexistent as he blinked a few times, tears pouring from his eyes. Moments like these reminded him where the coldness of his heart had led him, alone in his car, feverishly delirious. Akaashi should have stayed home, but he didn’t and now he needed help before he passed out in his car.

Help.

Sugawara was always there for him; the doctor would surely already be at the clinic and would know where to find him. Weakly, Akaashi reached for his phone with shaky hands as he felt his conscious slipping away from him. Sugawara Koushi, he went to type the doctor’s personal name into the contact search, knowing that in his fevered state, it would easier to find it.

Kou…shi.

He tapped the call icon and let it ring, thankful for the immediate answer. Akaashi could faintly hear the words of wondering what the purpose of such an early call was, his brain filling in the blanks. “Help, I’m in the clinic parking lot,” another panicked cough rocked his entire being as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to shake away the tears which felt frigid against his obviously burning skin. “I’m going to pass out… please hurry-” his breath hitched as he opened his eyes, only for his surroundings to go white before darkness took over him.

Akaashi opened his eyes once, feeling himself in the strong arms of his rescuer but even a moment as comforting as this was drowned out by a feverish guilt and a burning in lungs which traumatized him. It wasn’t Hanahaki, that much was obvious as his touch-starved mind led him to nestle closer into his chest while being carried and ignoring the words from Sugawara that he could not hear, but the idea of being so ill, so weak, traumatized him.

Akaashi opened his eyes again, and the first thing he took note of was the soft black blanket he was covered by. There were letters on it, but Akaashi didn’t care to open up the blanket which kept him so comfortable and so warm just to read what they said. The second thing he noticed was where he slept. It was not his bed, or his couch, or anywhere near a place that was familiar. This was not Sugawara’s home either, as a slight panic rose in his throat. The third thing he noticed? He felt better. Not perfect, far from normal even. Actually, he hardly felt better at all. However, he was not on the verge of collapse anymore and while his throat burned and his voice was royally shot, he could take in his surroundings and hope he was not kidnapped.

The fourth thing he noticed was the hacking coughs which most likely woke him up going off in the distance, coughs which did not belong to him. Slowly, Akaashi sat up and looked at the house, seeing a tall built figure in the distance coughing petals into the sink. The man had his spiked hair with dark streaks as a pit formed in Akaashi’s stomach. Holy shit, I was kidnapped.

It was now clear that Akaashi was not in Sugawara’s house. This had to be some fever dream, a figment of his imagination. It’s true, he must be dying and Akaashi being in a house he does not have any memory of while seeing Bokuto must a be a twisted hallucination from his fever being so high. Maybe Bokuto drugged his coffee, and now he’s been kidnapped never to see the light of day. No, that couldn’t be it. Bokuto was so kind, he wouldn’t hurt Akaashi. Right?

“You’re awake, about time.” Akaashi looked up to see Bokuto with a cup of tea, him kneeling down and handing Akaashi the cup. “You had me worried, ‘Kaashi. You had a fever way too close to be needing the hospital when I found you.”

“What?” The only word Akaashi could say before a sudden cough burned his throat, the fit quickly clearing up when Bokuto rubbed soft circles on his back. Akaashi eyed the tea and drank a bit, melting into the taste. His eyes widened as he reached into his pocket and thankfully still having his phone (meaning he wasn’t kidnapped!) and looking into his recent call history. There it was, Bokuto Koutarou as his latest call, right when he passed out. That wasn’t right, he swore he called Sugawara. He even typed his first name; Koushi.

Oh.

Sugawara Koushi and Bokuto Koutarou.

Koushi and Koutarou.

His brain started shutting down before he finished typing the whole name, Akaashi recalls. Kou and Kou. His face burned a bright red in embarrassment as he realized he had called the wrong person, how Bokuto always seemed to find a way to see him as more than just a doctor. “I’m so sorry,” Akaashi whispered as loud as he could, the only way to make his voice heard. “I meant to call someone else- god that’s bad,” he shook his head, the words slowly dying into the air.

“Don’t worry about it, Akaashi,” Bokuto laid a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, a bittersweet smile on his face, Akaashi could swear. “Don’t talk too much, your voice sounds awful. Let me take your temperature again, alright?” Before Akaashi could even protest, Bokuto was digging into the kitchen cupboards looking for the thermometer. Again? Akaashi thought to himself, trying to clear his head. When did Bokuto take it the first time? Am I that out of it? The feeling was odd for Akaashi, oddly domestic. He was the doctor, he was always the one taking care of others because of work, never personally. However, Bokuto was taking care of him personally, with his heart and all.

Akaashi’s heart melted at the kind gesture. If he wasn’t so out of it, he would take notice of the tears forming in his eyes threatening to pour. Bokuto came back with a forehead scanning thermometer in hand, kneeling down, holding it near Akaashi’s forehead. “Are you okay, Dr. Akaashi?” Bokuto sighed, using his free hand to wipe the tears which Akaashi had just realized existed. “Alright, 38.9. At least it’s lower!” Bokuto shrugged as slight horror set in Akaashi’s heart.

“38.9? That’s… really bad,” Akaashi whispered. 102 degrees Fahrenheit type of bad, and he doesn’t want to imagine what it was before. It was a habit he built when he first returned from the United States to Japan. One of his quirks, he always associated any form of metric temperature as its unit counterpart. Even after he could safely say he spent the most of his medical life in Japan, he would always remember the units the rest of the world clowned on the United States for.

Look at Akaashi, he’s getting lost in his thoughts again.

“It was over 39 when I first got you, I didn’t know if I had to take you to the hospital or not,” Bokuto admitted, a bit shy. “I didn’t, but it lowered pretty soon so I guess that’s good!”

“You’re silly,” Akaashi found himself comfortable, smiling at Bokuto’s antics. For once, he accepted Bokuto’s help, welcomed it even. He did not treat the pulling feeling of longing as a sensation from hell, but he embraced it as he pulled the blanket close to him. The softness of the fabric soothed his pain as he breathed in the smell of home. “It’s soft.”

Perhaps it was the fever talking, but this place felt more like home than his apartment in the corner of the sky had felt in a very long time.

Bokuto grinned and sat on the arm of the couch, Akaashi leaning against his leg. “That right there, exclusive MSBY Jackals merch. The blankets and hoodies were always my favorite, and they sold well. Too bad the blankets got discontinued,” Akaashi watched as Bokuto moved his arm, almost aiming to hold Akaashi, before hesitating and laying his arm to the side. “So, um… if you’re more aware, I could drive you back to your apartment and-”

“No!” Akaashi almost shouted before he burst into another flurry of coughs, Bokuto patting his back. Stings of life electrified Akaashi’s entire core, his brain starting to fog up again. Oh my God, what am I doing? Akaashi cleared his throat, looking up to gaze at Bokuto’s face flushed red. “Can… I stay? Just until the fever is closer to 38?” As long as it’s closer to 101.

That was Akaashi’s logic. He should stay because he can’t be left alone with such a high fever. All within a moment, Bokuto nodded eagerly. “Yeah, of course. Say, what if I made you something? Soup? Sick people eat soup, don’t they?”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow at the sentence. “You can cook?” He means it as kindly as he can, but he didn’t take Bokuto as someone able to coup. Granted, most people didn’t take a doctor such as himself as someone who could cook anything above a bowl of ramen, yet here they were.

“Of course, I can! However, you are the doctor, Akaashi. Sick people need soup, don’t they?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi could swear the look in Bokuto’s eyes was familiar.

Akaashi paused, laying down on the couch again. He was sick, he admitted it. Bokuto, his patient, was taking care of him. The latter would take much more getting use to before it set in. “I guess so,” his brain was too foggy as Akaashi could physically feel his emotional walls starting to fall. “…Could I just- be a patient today?” No doctor responsibilities, no looming stress from Hanahaki or Hanahajou, just rest. It appeared Akaashi needed it much more than he realized.

“Yeah, of course.”

For once, Akaashi was grateful that the timeline of his life seemed to land in his favor, him having the weekend to rest without missing too much work and to hopefully be recovered enough to head back in on Monday, especially since he knows fully well the clinic needs him with their Hanahaki rush. He had spent most of Saturday asleep, ordering food in, and keeping the hoodie Bokuto had given him the day prior.

It felt like home.

It was Sunday now, and his fever had finally broken, only leaving him with a few coughs and fatigue, even though he’s been doing nothing but sleeping. Valentine’s day, not that Akaashi celebrated it. He did a wish a happy valentine’s day to his coworkers, surely enjoying the fact that the day landed on a weekend so they could spend the day with their lovers. Akaashi eyed the door to his apartment, closed. Nariko was sitting with him, mewing softly as her owner stroked her fur.

He faintly remembers Bokuto’s address, no- he clearly remembers the address. He remembers it because he thought he got kidnapped, that’s why he remembered Bokuto’s address. No other reason, he was just worried about his own safety. Akaashi supposed a gift of gratitude was in order. At least with it being Valentine’s Day, Akaashi could take advantage of the sales for personal deliveries. He wasn’t too sure what was causing him to be so compassionate, it just felt right.

Maybe because he had taken a liking to Bokuto. The former volleyball player seemed nice, caring, and considerate. It was only right to return the favor.

~

“Delivery for Bokuto Koutarou?”

Bokuto was sitting in his house, watching television, and occasionally pausing it to get rid of the flowers he happened to cough up. Valentine’s day seemed to increase the longing feeling he tried so hard to get rid of, but to no avail. He wasn’t expecting a delivery; he typically waited until after Valentine’s Day to get chocolates anyways. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

“A delivery from Mr. Akaashi Keiji. I’ll leave it here,” a medium-sized gift box, wrapped in purple with a white ribbon. A delivery from Akaashi? Before Bokuto could even question the validity of the package, the delivery man was leaving his doorstep. Bokuto cleared his throat, bringing the box inside and opening it slowly. Inside was a smaller box of chocolates and a small green plant. With both of the two gifts, a small note Bokuto knew fully well as Akaashi’s handwriting.

I did my best to avoid flowers. Here is a plant and the chocolates you said you liked for your troubles. Thank you for taking care of me. From, Akaashi.

It would be a lie to say Bokuto did not cry.

[owlyflufff]

2 questions:

1. How is your day going? (Did u eat anything tasty?)

2. Do you have any bokuaka fic recs?

Hello anon!

First of all, I want to apologize so much for the SEVERE delay on this ask since I've been very busy and kind of overwhelmed the past few months (which explains my severe inactivity)!!!

As to answer your questions:

My day has been really well, thank you so much <33! I got to prepare my favorite food for breakfast too so it's been a good day. Hope that you manage to eat well and eat something tasty just as much, don't forget to drink water while you're at it!

For this ask, I'd just like to say that I'm a really simple person when it comes to fics TvT I'm not very choosy and I'll read what I can get xD! I suppose I only draw the line when I don't click well with the characterization of bokuaka. Also there are a few things I do just want to give as a heads up and I'm sorry if I disappoint TvT: - I don't personally read smut fics for bokuaka, or any fics for that matter. I will confirm that I don't mind people who like smut or anything r18! I wholeheartedly respect their tastes and interests and won't hinder them for enjoying what they read, smut I suppose is just something that doesn't click with me so my apologies there :<< - I'm not big on multiple chapter fics and I'm more of a oneshot person ^^; I have read a few here and there but with a busy schedule, it's hard for me to read multiple chapter fics and I want to enjoy and appreciate the work an author placed into their fic so I don't often read multiple chapter fics! So do expect all of these admittedly to be oneshots So with that here's I suppose a list of fics that I enjoyed <33 1. fine line by starsqwub - starting off with a multi-chapter fic xD but a very lovely and sweet one for that matter! I really love the writing style and the characterization. Akaashi pov of him yearning for Bokuto gets me all happy and it's honestly a well written story. Genuinely one of my favorites of all time <33 2. Frosted Breath by Oliver__Niko - bokuaka cute ice skating date! 3. Crisis 42 by ostentatiouslyrealistic - bokuaka being bokuaka during the festive Christmas season (ft. kuroken as well <33) 4. safe spaces by mysticTwirl - in where akaashi is the big spoon >:33 5. level of concern by chimera (emptyheadspace) - bokuaka sickfic !! 6. Drowning by letshiyori - I wouldn't be me if I didn't have a married bokuaka fic in here so married bokuaka fic here! Special mention to the one and only @mari-writes who makes lots of lovely bokuaka fics! I adore her writing style and characterization <33 My personal favorite is Gentle , do check out her ao3 she has a lot of wholesome and lovely bokuaka fics and I can't recommend her enough! Here's a link to her ao3: Mari_Writes This is honestly a short list and I want to apologize as well for it TvT I have a much LONGER list but my bookmarks are all over the place from years of reading bokuaka fics and I have yet to organize my fics so if there ever comes a time I have the willpower and time to make a gsheets I shall and share it here <33! Thank you again for the ask anon! Hope you have a lovely morning/afternoon/evening <33

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Vomit warning

-

-

-

READ THE WARNING

-

Word Count: 1393

Koutarou’s tendency to get in trouble would be Keiji’s downfall.  Everyone on Fukurodani’s volleyball team knew how dependent the team's ace was on the second year setter.  The captain's dependency put a weight of pressure onto Keiji’s shoulders.  Pressure to perform well not only for himself, but for Koutarou, which in turn forced him to perform well for the entire team.  Luckily, Keiji thrived under pressure.  He had his way to deal with any situation, be it Koutarou’s emo mode, Koutarou getting an injury, or his personal least favorite; Koutarou catching an illness.  Fortunately, the last of those 3 instances happened very rarely, and even when it did happen, it was nothing too serious.   

Which is exactly why Keiji felt so panicked right now.

From the morning, Keiji had a sour feeling in his stomach, a feeling which seemed to perfectly resemble the pit he got in his gut every time Koutarou entered his emo mode.  All day, Keiji fretted over what the terrible encounter would be, and when.  Both of these questions were answered as Koutarou crumpled to the floor mid spike.  A low moan emitted from Koutarou’s throat as he wrapped his large arms around his abdomen.  Quickly, Keiji rushed over to Koutarou’s weak form.

“Bokuto-san, can you get up?  We need to get you home,” Keiji deadpanned, wrapping his arms around Koutarou to provide support.

A weak nod was all Koutarou expressed as he slowly made his way to a hunched standing position.  Coach Yamiji walked up, his attention caught by the small group circled around the ace and setter.

“Yamiji-sensei, Bokuto-san is unwell, may I take him home?” Keiji queried upon the new arrival.

“Ah, yea.  Make sure ya get outta ‘ere before he gets everyone else sick.  Stay safe you two,” Turning his head to Koutarou he added, “Get better soon.”  

With a clap, the coach directed the rest of the team's focus to himself, and Keiji continued the rough process of getting Koutarou outside.  After a bit of struggle, which was only worsened as a result of the pain continuing to bite at Keiji’s midsection, the two made it outside, and quite a distance from the school.  

-

“Do you think it worked?” Yamato asked Akinori back in the gym.

“Yea bro, did you see how good of an actor he was?” Haruki butted in, referencing Koutarou’s collapse.

“He was!  I just hope he’s able to get to the festival without getting yelled at,” Akinori added, voicing his concerns of Keiji getting mad at Koutarou for his bold plot to skip out on volleyball.  

The whole team, including the coach, was in on it.  The original plan was for Keiji to finally get a break from supporting the team, and who better to show Keiji a good time then Koutarou.

-

Back at where Koutarou and Keiji were walking, Keiji began to grow suspicious of how well Koutarou was walking without support.

“Bokuto-san, you don’t seem sick.  Were you faking?” Keiji asked, his face morphing into one of disapproval.

“Aka----ashi!” Koutarou exclaimed, walking around to face Keiji, “Of course, and I got everyone in on it!  I’m s’pose to take you on a break!” Koutarou confessed, grabbing Keiji’s wrist.

Despite any trouble being resolved, the awful feeling remained deep in Keiji’s stomach.  For the first time all day, he was able to really focus on the hot bubbling feeling, and able to realize it was something so much more than worry.  Nervous from his new findings, his initial upset over Koutarou’s lie almost dissipated. 

Pulling his wrist out from Koutarou’s grip, Keiji began, “Bokuto-san.  I don’t need a break, we should go back to practice,” he paused a couple times to lift his hand to his mouth and stifle bubbles of air rising up.

Koutarou took notice of Keiji’s awkward behavior, much to the dismay of the latter.  

“Akaashi?” Koutarou whined in concern, “Are you okay?” He did not get an answer.  Everything started happening too fast, Keiji felt his stomach start to ache far stronger than before.  His mouth began to salivate, and he clasped his hand over it in fear of making a mess.  Koutarou’s eyes widened as he lay a large hand across Keiji’s mid back.  

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” Keiji affirmed, swallowing down the excess liquid in his mouth.

Worry was still etched in Koutarou’s face, but a flock of birds overhead quickly caught his attention and soon enough, Keiji’s moment of weakness completely escaped his mind.  But for Keiji, the moment was far from gone.  The churning feeling had all but faded, and Keji began to find it difficult to even stand.  Fortunately for him, Koutarou was too caught up in the animals flying overhead to take note of Keiji’s struggle.

“Akaashi! Do you see them!  Do you see the birds!” Koutarou marvelled, eyes wide to the sky.

Keiji’s lack of response caused Koutarou’s attention to return to the second year.  Just as his head whipped around, Keiji’s knees buckled.  Quickly, the team captain threw his arm under his falling friend and helped to gently lower him.  

Saliva dribbled out of Keiji’s slightly ajar mouth as his stomach clenched.  At this point, Keiji didn’t even have the energy to reassure Koutarou of his well being, lie or not.  After a particularly hard clench, Keiji let out a loud retch, and his back arched in a way which forced him to place his hands in front of him in an effort to support the rest of his body.  Koutarou, not knowing what else to do, rubbed large circles on Keiji’s back and pulled out his phone to call for help.

They stayed in that position for a minute or so, Keiji trying his best to hold down whatever was trying so hard to force its way out of him, and Koutarou hovering at his side uncomfortably.  Finally, Keiji gave up, a loud belch echoed out of him, bringing with it a thin wave of vomit.  The grotesque taste it left on the setter’s tongue incited another, larger, wave.  Not much came up, as Keiji didn’t eat too much throughout the day- his stomach pains seemed to cause a lack of appetite.After the second wave, Keiji felt finished.  Pulling his handkerchief out of the pocket of his jacket, he dabbed his lips and chin.

“Let’s go Bokuto-san,” he deadpanned, slowly pulling himself off the ground.  Embarrassment caused heat to hug his cheeks, they weren’t exactly in the most private setting and Keiji could feel bystanders eyes burning into him.

Koutarou, not much knowing what else to do, obliged.  After about 3 minutes of walking, Keiji doubled over once more, letting out a loud retch as he did so.  Koutarou resumed his position at the side of Keiji, rubbing large circles onto the smallers back.  Keiji let out a couple more gags before a productive heave sent a small splash of bile onto the concrete.  At this point, Keiji’s throat was burning and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on his bed and fall asleep.  His legs felt weak and his vision was swimming.  Dizziness yanked at his limbs and swam throughout his core.

Taking a deep breath, Keiji began, “Bokuto-san.  Can you take,” but before he could finish his request, his vision went fully back and his knees buckled.

Panicked, Koutarou scooped his arms under Keji and lifted him up in bridal style.  It was an easy feat, Keiji was light and Koutarou was strong.  Surprisingly, despite the two being so close, Koutarou had no clue where his friend lived, so he began the long walk to his own house.

Keiji only stirred slightly throughout the long walk.  For this, Koutarou was silently thankful, it was safe to assume the former hadn’t been getting much sleep as of late.  It was a but of an inconvenience to Koutarou, his house wasn’t exactly close to Fukurodani, which is why he took the train everyday, but he knew this was a minor inconvenience in comparison to all Keji went through for him.  

Relief washed through Koutarou’s body as his house came into view.  Judging by how Keiji was still out, Koutarou was ready for one long night.  Letting out a sigh filled with many emotions, he fished his key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door, fully unprepared for the long night which awaited him.

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

Sick Akaashi & Caretaker Bokuto Headcanons!!

Bc they’re my faves & I love them.

—————————

Hello! I’m back for a little. Thank you for your patience as I work through my personal issues!! I can’t guarantee that I’m back back, but I felt like writing this, so I took the feeling and ran.

I didn’t plan for this to inspire me to write a fic, but honestly it really did so you’ll probably get a fic that’s like this.

Anyway...here ya go!!

TW: bokuaka fluff & mentions of vomiting, nausea, and headache

The thing about their relationship (and it’s always freaked everyone out) is that they just know how to take care of each other. Neither of them has to say what they need. The other just knows. It’s not like they can’t take care of themselves; if the other isn’t around, the problem still get solved, but resolution comes a lot quicker and with a lot more comfort if they help each other out because they almost just force each other to do what needs to be done without any run around.

This comes in handy particularly when Akaashi is sick. While Bokuto is pretty vocal about when he’s not feeling well, Akaashi tries to keep to himself. He’s not trying to hide it. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s sick. He just knows his patience is running thin aand he’s just trying to keep from hurting anyone’s feelings.

Bc I feel like while Akaashi’s generally very quiet, he’s subtly chaotic. He’s the kind of guy that always quietly says things that make people stop and go “wtf?” And sometimes that means he’s whispering chaotic and idiotic ideas to others to try and get them to do something crazy.

But when he’s not feeling well, he kind of retreats into himself because his filter disappears and the normally fun, teasing comments may come out meaner and harsher than he means them. He still does what he needs to do and responds to things when appropriate, and he doesn’t make a big fuss, but he’s subdued. Mostly because he knows he has less control of his brain and tongue, and doesn’t want to worry about his normal sarcastic comments coming out more viscously than normal.

For a while, he didn’t think anyone noticed. After all, he’s a calm, quiet person anyway. It couldn’t be that different. But not his team. The team notices the lack of sarcastic, fire-starting comments, and they just know that something is wrong, even if their setter looks otherwise normal.

They all try to figure out what’s wrong in round about ways, but Akaashi just laughs quietly, or responds with a straight forward answer, so eventually they just give up. Eventually, Bokuto—the only person who’s strangely left him alone all practice—calls him out on his weird behavior and just straight up asks him and Akaashi is so stunned, that he just admits that he’s not feeling well without hesitation. Bokuto scolds him for coming to practice, but asks him what’s wrong and somehow knows exactly how to take care of Akaashi respective to the answer he’s given.

If he has a headache, it’s almost certainly from tension and it starts in the back of his head and works it’s way to his jaw and cheekbones, which is why he doesn’t talk much. Bokuto makes him sit out the rest of practice and has Yukie give him one of her famous shoulder massages to ease the tension out of his wound up body.

If he has a fever, he’s probably colder than usual and his patience a little thin, so he just bites his tongue when people talk to him so he doesn’t snap at them unnecessarily. He hates being cold and hates how his limbs ache and his head is foggy and how he has no energy, so he knows if he speaks it’ll be more sarcastic than normal and with more venom than needed. Bokuto makes him call his mom to come pick him up and forces him to go sit in the club room where it’s quiet and he can bundle up in other people’s warm up jackets while he waits.

If Akaashi is nauseous, it’s a little trickier. If it’s just simple nausea, with no other symptoms, Bokuto can usually just get him to sit out the rest of practice. But if he has a fever too, then things get dicey.

Akaashi doesn’t like throwing up, so he’s probably been trying to ignore the feeling. He probably hasn’t eaten more than what’s required of him to keep living. These two things together make for a very grumpy, very disheveled setter. Sure, he still tries to bite his tongue and remain normal, but the smallest thing could set him off and it would probably end up in whoever pissed him off in tears. Bokuto has to be a little more forward and a little more captain-like in this case. He’s comfortable enough with Akaashi to know that whatever insult comes out of his mouth is not sincere and he escorts the protesting setter outside in the fresh air and wraps him in a jacket and sits with him until the setter’s mom shows up. All the while, Akaashi grounds out sarcastic comments quietly while leaning into Bokuto and Bokuto just laughs and rubs his head.

The really really big issue is if Akaashi has a fever, a headache, and he’s nauseous to the point of thinking he may throw up. Bokuto really has to step in here. Akaashi isn’t stupid, so Bokuto knows that he wouldn’t have come to practice if he’d felt that bad all day, so it must have snuck up on him and he’s too dense to really diagnose himself as probably having the flu. It’s more evident to the team that he’s genuinely sick bc he’s pale and flushed and dazed. And angry. Not at anyone in particular, but at himself. Because he’s pale and flushed and dazed. And his arms and legs are sore for some reason he doesn’t understand and his head hurts, but it’s not his normal tension headache and everything is foggy and loud. Needless to say, his team stays away and waits for Bokuto to step in.

Bokuto tries to step in. He really does. But Akaashi isn’t as forthcoming about what’s wrong, so Bokuto doesn’t know what route to take. It’s not until he sees Akaashi suppressing tiny, breathy burps behind a hand that he knows what’s wrong. By that point, Akaashi is drained. He doesn’t want to be standing anymore. He doesn’t feel well at all and he just needs enough energy to tell someone what’s wrong and ask to leave, but he’s too afraid to open his mouth. That’s usually about the time Bokuto marches up to him and gently puts a hand on his cheek and frowns when he finds the fever there. Akaashi, relieved that someone has come to rescue him from his own stupidity, starts crying. Bokuto pulls him into a hug and lets him cry for a minute and tries to warm up his shivering body. Then he leads Akaashi outside the gym and into the club room, where they’ll wait together for the nausea to pass (or for him to puke) and then Bokuto calls Akaashi’s mom to come pick him up.

Akaashi doesn’t like throwing up, so if it comes to that, it’s bad. He resists and maybe he cries silently, but he obstinately refuses to even look at a bin or a bucket. He chokes down heaves and gags and whimpers and pants. Bokuto usually just sighs and tries to coax him into letting things happen, but Akaashi refuses, so Bokuto just makes sure that a bin is within arms reach of himself and waits for the inevitable.

When he finally does throw up, it’s seemingly without warning for the setter, but Bokuto is prepared and manages to get the bin under his chin just in time. Akaashi is pretty quiet, save for some gaspy breaths, airy hiccups, and the occasional wet burp. But unfortunately for him, he’s not really a one and done kind of guy. It usually takes him a few rounds before he gets everything up and by then, he’s so traumatized that he’s given up control and finally just lets Bokuto take care of him.

The routine doesn’t change much after they graduate. The year that Akaashi is still in high school and Bokuto isn’t there, someone usually tries to call or text him if Akaashi is being weird. If he can answer, he talks to Akaashi and whatever the problem is gets taken care of. It’s not like Akaashi needs Bokuto to tell him what to do. But Bokuto just kind of gives him the push he needs to do it.

When Akaashi graduates, he moves to Osaka and lives near the MSBY dorms and tries to take care of himself if he gets sick, but Bokuto somehow always knows, and is at Akaashi’s door as soon as he can get away from practice.

[aziliang]

Emergency Contact

Bokuto was rarely sick. He may have caught coughs and colds a few times a year, but he only needed his allergy medication, some sleep, and he’s good to go. But he was rarely sick, his immune system was forged since he was born and was given a gift of naturally having a strong immune system. For he only got sick once or twice a year, whenever he got stubborn or over fatigued. On top of that, there is no indication that he would be sick beforehand. It’s like yesterday he’s feeling well and energetic, then the next day Akaashi’s already notifying Meian that Bokuto would be resting for 3 days to a week.

It was in the middle of V-league season, on a busy Monday afternoon in Tokyo when Bokuto suddenly felt sick at 4 PM after their warm-up. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows that Meian and Sakusa already sensed it and were just waiting for him to give a signal or come clean. He was contemplating on continuing, hanging by a thread until they finish the match, but he couldn’t help the worry and guilt if ever one of them got infected because of him and probably their connection would be unstable because of Sakusa’s tendencies. 

Bokuto walks towards Meian, he’s decided to get out of their match line-up, and doesn't want to get in their way of winning matches this season by infecting them.

“Ya cannot call Akaashi or Kuroo about this, to pick me up or anything.”

“But Bokuto, you’re not fit to go home alone, let alone wait for the match to finish. You have to go home and rest.”

“It’s Monday, Kuroo’s usually working overtime on Mondays, and I don’t wanna bother him. Akaashi’s out of town in a seminar, he’s not able to rush in and pick me up.”

“Well, do you have someone in mind? I mean I could drive you to your apartment, but someone has to take care of you.”

“I think I do, but I doubt he would be able to squeeze me in his work from home.”

“Well, you at least have to try.” Meian reassures before giving Bokuto their team phone, used as a contact to their families when they needed a time off.

Bokuto dials a number, unregistered under his list of emergency contacts. Two rings were all it took before the other line picked up. 

“Hello? How may I be of help...?” the man speaks softly.

“Kenma? Hey bun, are ya busy today?”

“Koutaro? Hmm, let me check…”

There was the sound of papers flipping, keyboards clacking, and mouse clicking. Then silence, just filled with steady breaths.

“Taro, you still there?”

“Yeah, yep, still here.”

“I just have a zoom meeting by 6 in the evening with the JVA Collaboration, then I’m free before and after that.”

“Uhm...”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Can you please come get me? I don’t feel well today, Keiji and Kuroo are busy today then I thought of you- Kenma?” He asks as he hears loud rustling in the line.

“Get your stuff, I’m on my way there. Stay inside your locker room and wear your jacket, alright? See you in 10.” Then the call ended, leaving a taken aback Bokuto, before snapping out of it and starts collecting his stuff.

Kenma came fetching him exactly 10 minutes later, drove them back to his and Kuroo’s apartment, already deciding that he would spend his time taking care of his close friend rather than dropping him off at Keiji’s and driving away. It may not be obvious, but Kenma has been the silent caring and worrying friend out of them four. He’s also the best at taking care of someone sick, and mastered the way of taking care of someone through the years of Kuroo getting sick because of overfatigue. He was so worried and dedicated that he nearly canceled the meeting with JVA if not for Bokuto convincing him that he would sleep once Kenma’s in the meeting, but it didn’t stop Kenma from setting up his portable work area by the corner of their guest room where Bokuto’s resting in just to keep watch on him. 

Bokuto never knew this side of Kenma and seeing this firsthand, he silently ranks Kenma one of the best nurses he ever had, second to Keiji of course. Bokuto was back in the games after 3 days, just in time for MSBY’s match against the Adlers, and ever since then Kenma’s name was registered under Bokuto’s emergency contacts in the MSBY phone and has been a speed dial in his phone.

[super-secret-sick-fics]

Hi, could you write a Iwaoi or bokuaka fic?

Hi! You’re in luck!! I just finished a bokuaka fic :) I’m working on and iwaoi one right now!

Suddenly Sick: A BokuAka Sick Fic

Pairing: Sick Bokuto, caretaker Akaashi

Words: 2,330

Warnings: vomiting

Bokuto and Akaashi walked hand in hand down the sidewalk on their way home after one of Bokuto’s matches. The Black Jackals won, of course, and the whole team went out for dinner afterwards.

It was a really nice night, so the couple opted to walk home instead of calling for a cab. The sky was cloudless and the moon was full. The slight breeze made it a little chilly, but nothing too unbearable. It was incredibly calming and Akaashi felt completely at peace.

Bokuto was chatting excitedly beside him, relaying different highlights of the game, despite the fact that Akaashi was there and saw the whole thing. His animated stories were punctuated by Akaashi’s occasional nods and hums, the setter content to let his boyfriend relive the most exciting moments of the game.

The relaxing atmosphere tricked Akaashi into letting his guard down. Normally, he was hyper vigilant of their surroundings for both himself and his absent-minded partner, but he was lulled into a sense of security. Hardly anyone was out at this hour and they were only a few blocks from their apartment. Further, Bokuto was riding high from his game. He didn’t need to keep his mind running with the different situations and outcomes that they might encounter on their short walk.

Bokuto was slowly calming down, his stories becoming less animated as they walked, but that was given. Akaashi expected that to happen because it was their usual routine. Bokuto expended his leftover energy until he came back to a normal level and Akaashi was happy to oblige him in any way he needed.

What he didn’t expect was complete and sudden silence.

Akaashi was looking at the stars when it happened. Bokuto stopped talking abruptly. No more relaying highlights. No questions about Akaashi’s day. No idle conversation about current events. No, it was radio silence and after 2 minutes, all of Akaashi’s nerves were set on edge.

He was about to ask if Bokuto was okay, though he wasn’t sure what would have triggered the change in Bokuto’s mood. Right as Akaashi turned to face his boyfriend, Bokuto released his hand and stood frozen, rooted to the ground. Akaashi was completely thrown off. Something was very wrong. Immediately, he moved in front of Bokuto.

“Kotarou? What’s wrong?”

Akaashi scanned Bokuto for any obvious signs of distress and was not pleased with his findings.

Bokuto was pale, his skin taking on an ashen grey color. His eyebrows were scrunched and his mouth twisted. There was a slight tremble in his shoulders, and a hand rested precariously on his stomach.

“I-I’m not sure. I just feel really bad all of a sudden,” he panted. Akaashi felt his own eyebrows come together. He brought a hand up to Bokuto’s sweaty forehead and frowned.

“You’re a little warm. Were you feeling off at all earlier?” He asked. His arms wrapped around Bokuto’s shoulders and he pulled his distraught boyfriend into his chest. Bokuto shook his head.

“No. It just hit me in the last few minutes,” the ace whimpered into Akaashi’s shoulder. Akaashi rubbed a hand up and down Bokuto’s back gently.

“Okay,” he whispered back, “let’s get you home and in bed then? I’ll take your temperature. It’ll be okay, Kou.” He pulled Bokuto from his chest and held his shoulders. His concern grew when Bokuto didn’t respond verbally, opting for a short nod instead. Was he paler than before?

They tried to move forward, only for it to become blatantly, painfully, obvious that whatever was plaguing Bokuto sapped all of his energy when he stumbled and nearly face planted within the first two minutes of them walking. Akaashi felt a jolt of anxiety surge throughout his body. He didn’t know what was wrong, but it wasn’t good.

Akaashi threw one of Bokuto’s arms over his smaller shoulders and wrapped a hand around his boyfriend’s waist. They started walking again and Akaashi sent up a silent prayer to whatever god would listen that they could make it the measly 5 remaining blocks to their apartment without incident.

Apparently no one was listening.

“K-keiji,” Bokuto stuttered, desperate. Akaashi’s head snapped to look at his boyfriend so quickly he swore he got whiplash. Bokuto was entirely too sweaty given their slow pace and his eyes were squeezed shut.

They were only about a block from their apartment now. They were so very, very close.

“Keiji, please stop.”

“It’s alright, Kou, we’re almost hom—“

“No, we need to stop walking,” Bokuto panted, halting them with a strength he didn’t have just a few seconds ago. Akaashi stepped in front of his boyfriend and gave him a once over again.

In addition to the pained look on his face, Bokuto’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed tightly. A sense of foreboding washed over Akaashi.

“Kouta-“

“Keiji, I’m gonna be sick,” Bokuto muttered weakly behind a poorly suppressed gag. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and peered at Akaashi with pleading eyes.

Akaashi scanned their surroundings. They were in the middle of a small strip mall the block down from their apartment. Curious eyes of children and concerned adults looked at them from afar. No, this was far too public. They needed to move.

“We’re almost home. Can you hold on a little bit longer?” Akaashi nearly begged. He didn’t want to face the judgement of adults and frighten children. No, he needed to get Bokuto somewhere isolated quickly.

Bokuto looked at him again, eyes wide and watery, his lips pulled in a tight line. The whimper that sounded was quiet, barely noticeable, but made Akaashi’s heart pang nonetheless. He immediately reprimanded himself for thinking more about their public image than helping his boyfriend when he was clearly distressed.

“Okay,” he soothed, cupping Bokuto’s face in his hands, “it’s fine, Kou. Can you try and make it off the sidewalk at least? To those bushes right there.” Akaashi gestured to the shrubbery about 5 feet away from them. Bokuto took a deep breath and nodded. Together, they slowly made their way over, Akaashi supporting Bokuto far more than he liked.

What had caused this sudden illness? Perhaps a stomach bug and Bokuto was too filled with adrenaline all day to notice symptoms earlier? Perhaps food poisoning? Anxiety? Appendicitis?

Akaashi ran through and tried to rule out every possibility in the short time it took them to make their way to the bushes. His rapid thoughts were interrupted when Bokuto stumbled slightly and gagged.

Akaashi directed him towards the innocent plants, and Bokuto doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. He panted and Akaashi’s chest ached in sympathy. Bokuto wasn’t good at being sick. It was such a direct contradiction to his personality, that he was utterly miserable the second he even caught a cold.

“K-Keiji. It hurts,” he choked out, before having once more, bringing his hand to his mouth.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry this is happening,” Akaashi said gently.

The next few minutes were terribly pitiful. Bokuto continued to gag and heave without relief. Children asked their parents what was happening before quickly being carted away. Older adults frowned and mumbled words of sympathy and pity. There was no way Bokuto didn’t hear the exchanges and Akaashi was sure it only made him feel worse.

“I want it to stop,” Bokuto whimpered when he had a second to catch his breath. Tears were falling down his flushed cheeks, whether they were from sadness or the strain of endless heaves, Akaashi wasn’t sure. He frowned and rubbed a hand up and down Bokuto’s back. His muscles were tight. They tensed with every unsuccessful retch.

“Please relax, Kou. It’s alright,” Akaashi whispered calmly. Bokuto shook his head, eyes shut tightly.

“It’s fine, baby. You’re fine. I’m here. Once this is over, we’ll get you home and I’ll take care of everything, okay?” Akaashi kissed the back of Bokuto’s sweaty neck. He tried to ignore the heat that he felt for the time being. It could be addressed once they were safely and comfortably back in their apartment.

It took a minute or two more, but finally, Bokuto heaved and a wet burp immediately followed, bringing with it his dinner. It continued on like that, Bokuto’s body refusing to give him a break between rounds of vomiting.

“Breathe, Kou,” Akaashi tried to comfort. At some point during the vomiting spell, Bokuto crouched down and placed his head in his hands. He continued to heave, vomit splashing between his legs. Akaashi knelt with him, ignoring the splash-back on his shoes. He rubbed between Bokuto’s shoulder blades and shushed him gently.

A minute later, Bokuto gasped, finally managing to catch his breath, and fell with a thud on his ass. Akaashi pulled out his handkerchief and wiped down his face, frowning.

“Keiji, I really don’t feel good,” Bokuto choked, his eyes wide. He didn’t regain any color in his face, save for the flush of the fever Akaashi discovered earlier. The look on his boyfriend's face reminded him of a surprised child. He chuckled lightly.

“I can see that, Kou.” His hand found Bokuto’s hair and he ran his fingers through it before sliding it down to cup Bokuto’s cheek. Bokuto closed his eyes and whimpered.

Akaashi allowed them to rest a few more minutes before asking Bokuto if he could make it home. Bokuto exhaled slowly, but nodded.

Together, the two of them got Bokuto standing. Akaashi supported him the same way he did earlier. Slowly, the couple made their way home. They only stopped twice when Bokuto thought he was going to throw up again, but kept moving when it turned out to be a false alarm.

Bokuto paled when they got to their apartment. Akaashi grimaced when he remembered that there was no elevator and they had to get up 7 flights of stairs. Around the fourth floor, Bokuto started shaking.

“Koutaro? Are you okay?” Akaashi asked, alarmed. His boyfriend nodded, his lips in a tight line and his eyes determined.

“I’m not going to throw up in the staiwell,” he gritted. Akaashi understood and tried to speed them up as much as possible.

When they finally made it back to their apartment, Akaashi escorted Bokuto to the couch and immediately rushed to the kitchen to get their big trash can. He brought a few extra trash bags too. Just in case.

As soon as he made it back to Bokuto, the sick boy grabbed the trash can and heaved, a slurry or brown vomit spilling into the trash can. Akaashi winced, but left Bokuto to go get him a change of clothes, promising to be back as quickly as possible.

Akaashi changed into more comfortable clothes himself and stopped by the bathroom on his way back to Bokuto. He grabbed a thermometer, a couple wet wash rags, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Upon entering the living room again, he found Bokuto leaning back on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes. The trash can was sitting idly next to him, only an arm’s length away.

“Hey baby,” Akaashi sat down beside him and brought his legs up so he could face his miserable boyfriend. Bokuto looked at him pathetically. Despite the situation, Akaashi found the look on his face utterly adorable and he gave Bokuto a sad smile.

Akaashi worked quickly, helping Bokuto change into more comfortable clothes. He wiped down his face with one of the wash rags. The thermometer was placed in his mouth and as they waited, Akaashi got the appropriate number of pills ready for Bokuto.

The beep of the thermometer broke the disconcerting silence and Akaashi sighed to find that Bokuto did indeed have a fever. Maybe it was a stomach bug then. In which case, Akaashi should prepare himself to face the same fate in a few days' time.

Bokuto took the medicine and Akaashi coaxed him into drinking the rest of the water. When he finished he handed the glass to Akaashi, who set it on the table.

Bokuto wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s middle and whined as he nuzzled his face into the former setter’s stomach.

Akaashi maneuvered them so that he was laying down, his back leaning against the armrest of the couch, and Bokuto lying between his legs. He slid his fingers through Bokuto’s hair, breaking up the gel and making it fall down.

“I feel so icky,” Bokuto pouted. His eyes were closed and he frowned, his lower lip sticky out childishly. Akaashi giggled.

“I know, babe. Don’t worry, you’ll feel not icky soon.”

Bokuto turned his head so his chin was resting on Akaashi’s stomach and looked at him with wide, fever-glazed eyes.

“You’ll take care of me?”

Akaashi blinked a few times before his face relaxed and his lips pulled up into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Always.”

Bokuto seemed satisfied with that and turned his head so his cheek was resting on Akaashi’s stomach again. He sighed.

It was bound to be a long few days, but the two of them would get through it.

***

A week later, Bokuto was sitting at the breakfast table, feeling much better, though he could still only stomach light meals. The worst week of his life was over, and he was starting to feel like himself again.

He was eating some toast and humming to himself when Akaashi stumbled into the kitchen, a hand on his stomach and sweat shining on his flushed face. Bokuto stared at him, eyes wide.

“K-koutaro? I don’t feel so g-good,” Akaashi managed to force out before promptly doubling over with a jarring belch and vomiting on their kitchen floor.

Bokuto scrambled over to his side and dragged him to the bathroom, a trail of vomit marking their path. He guided Akaashi to kneel in front of the toilet and rubbed his back when he threw up once more.

“It’s okay, Keiji. I’ve got you.”

[stiles-parker]

Me: I'm stone cold, I have no emotions left anymore. My heart? Locked. I will forever be aloof and distant-

*reads a sick fic for my favorite fictional couple where the sick one gets showered in love and care*

[forgotten-daydreamer]

« not a burden »

Summary:  Akaashi is currently far from home, and he begs for Kuroo’s help when he learns that his husband Bokuto has come down with a violent case of the stomach flu. Bokuto claims that he’s doing okay, that he doesn't need any help. They almost believe him. Good thing they don’t.

Rating: general audiences.

Archive warning: creator chose not to use archive warnings.

Word count: 17k words (1/1, complete).

Additional tags:

you can find not a burden on AO3

[a-decent-writer]

Sick-fic headcanons

idk if this appropriate for this time but... 

Kuroo X Kenma

- Kuroo is surprisingly whiny when he’s sick and absolutely despises getting sick.

- He’d be the type of person to ignore it until he has like a raging 103° F (39° C) fever and someone forces him to go home.

- “i promise i’m not sick it’s just a head ache”

- insists on working through a fever and Kenma has to be like “get into bed idiot” 

- “if you wanted to get me into bed all you had to do was ask kitten” 

- “I will let you die”

- Secretly enjoys getting parts of sick because he can get Kenma to dote on him. 

- Kenma has gotten better at taking care of himself but still has a relatively weak immune system

- has headaches because he’s super busy and almost always looks at the screen

- wears a-lot of masks because he coughs a lot but has the added bonus of pretty good at hiding his identity

- when they first start dating he kinda has to fight Kuroo off and Kuroo eventually gets it and understands when it’s not that bad.

- But when it does get really bad Kuroo is the best at making him feel better

Bokuto x Akaashi

- Bokuto Has like one errant sniffle or cough and Akaashi is like “Bokuto-san, you are a professional and you have practice tomorrow you cannot afford to get sick. Wear your scarf, take my hat, are you going to take your thick jacket? here are some hand-warmers.” and Bokuto thinks this is adorable.

- This is because Boktuo doesn’t really get sick 

- When he does get sick it’s annoying to others because he seems to get better over night. 

- “It’s because of my great sleep regimen and great metabolism”

- “i’m too annoyed to tell you that’s not how it works Kou-chan”

- Whenever Bokuto gets really sick everyone panics and Akaashi is always this close to calling Urgent Care 

- “Keji, i promise you don’t need to call the hospital”

-  Akaashi literally stops being able to function, sleeps for like twenty hours straight 

- Bokuto is a very doting boyfriend he brings Akaashi soup and masked cheek kisses until Akaashi feels better.

- all Akaashi wants to do is cuddle until he feels better and bokuto is only too happy to oblige

- Usually takes a long time to get better but doesn’t get sick often either. 

- Like with a cold it can take him weeks to stop coughing.

Iwaizumi x Oikawa

- another one of those “lol what, i’m not sick, its only allergies”

- “iwachan, you’re pale and wobbled as you got out of bed this morning”

- hates being sick 

- Oikawa dosen’t really know how to take care of sick person so he just buys like eight types of medicine and a bunch of things he hopes will make a person feel better 

-  Has to fight Oikawa off because the idiot is always insisting on kisses “ Oi, i don’t want you getting sick”

_ functions surprisingly well when sick 

- Oikawa is the whiny, demanding sick person

- Iwaizumi grumbles the entire time taking care of him but obviously he loves the attention 

- like many, he enjoys cuddles 

- his voice gets more nasally than usual when he’s congested and Iwaizumi thinks its the funniest things in the world. 

Daichi X Suga

- Suga does not like getting sick so he will legit do anything to avoid it.

- like you get sick and he’s like “nope get you and your pathogens the fuck away from me” 

- “you’s sick, you’s on your own honey”

- eats a lot of oranges 

- Daichi takes care of himself like a good person 

- Daichi makes great chicken soup because his little siblings get sick all the time. 

- They don’t really have cold medication in their house so when they have to go and buy some they always overbuy and it expires. 

Also, Send Prompts and Ships i wanna see what my Haikyuu brain is made of 

[gofu-kurself]

IT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD TO ME IF U CHECKED OUT MY FIC <333

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou Characters: Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto Koutarou, Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi, Akaashi Keiji's Family Additional Tags: Sick Character, Sickfic, Sad Ending, Sad, Bokuaka - Freeform, Boys In Love, Character Death, Unknown Illness, Hospital, Breakup, Memories, Childhood Memories, Smut, Shower Sex, Getting Together, University Students, First Kiss, Kissing in the Rain, Crying, Heartbreak, Sorry Not Sorry, Read if you need a good cry, Growing Up Together, Falling In Love, Secrets, hurt and pain, Angst, Nightmares, Blowjobs, Making Out, Did I mention theyre in LOVE??, happy couple Summary:

A story told through memories. Memories which prove that love isn't enough to save someone. --- Akaashi Keiji was in way over his head.

This was an unusual circumstance, because he was usually quite a precautious person.

Akaashi Keiji never let himself get overwhelmed. He always prepared before diving into things. He never flew by the seat of his pants. Everything he did was cool, calculated, thought out, and understandable.

That is until he met Bokuto Koutarou.

[sickfic-with-kiko]

@ anon who mentioned appendicitis as a request:

Not sure if it’s what you want, but I have a scene in my fic where Bokuto gets appendicitis, thought you might wanna read it!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724769/chapters/31531266

When Akaashi steps into the bus, he feels an overwhelming sense of fatigue wash over him. It’s been a tough week, there’s no denying that. He leans his head on his seat, shutting his eyes.

“Akaashi! You tired? Are you gonna sleep?”

Akaashi nods, and Bokuto’s eyes turn wide and round. “You can switch seats if you want to. I probably won’t be much to talk to.”

“Nope.” Bokuto shakes his head. “I wanna sit with you, Akaashi! My best friend!”

Akaashi only tries for a few moments to hide his delight. “Best friend,” he repeats to himself, leaning his head onto Bokuto. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up if you need anything, all right?”

He starts to doze off as the bus rocks him into a comfortable trance. It’s not that long of a ride from Saitama to Tokyo, so he hopes to milk as much of the precious sleeping time before he has to head home.

The food he’s eaten sits in his stomach, and he hears someone snoring softly from behind him. Sarukui? No, he’s pretty sure that’s Konoha.

Akaashi cracks an eye open to check on Bokuto. He seems rather drowsy himself, and Akaashi assumes he’ll be asleep just like the rest of them in a few minutes. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll get to see Bokuto’s goofy sleeping face.

With no noise to distract him aside from the low hum of the engine, Akaashi slips into unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. His curls fall in front of his eyes as he sleeps, creating a curtain of sorts. His cheeks turn slightly red from the lingering heat of the sun.

Abruptly, Akaashi’s eyes snap open.

His nap has ended, and he can tell it’s for a good reason. Bokuto taps him again, and Akaashi notices an unpleasant shift in his upper stomach.

“Bokuto-san, is there something wrong?” Akaashi peers into him, and Bokuto’s frown deepens. “What’s the matter?”

Bokuto's skin is waxy-looking, and his eyes are losing their golden luster. “Akaashi,” he sounds like he's pleading, and it's almost pitiful. “Something's messing with my body.”

“Are you feeling carsick?”

Akaashi has come prepared. He whips out some chewable tablets designed to alleviate sickness and discomfort during rides, which Bokuto reluctantly takes.

“I don't know. I feel warm, and my upper stomach feels all weird.” Bokuto rests his hand on his stomach, slowly chewing on the pasty white tablet.

Akaashi sweeps up his fringe and feels his forehead. He instantly notices that the pain and discomfort isn’t the same as when Bokuto was motion sick before the camp. His face seems more flushed, but no vigor is in his eyes. He’s warm as well, even by Bokuto standards.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep? It might be better if you rest your body a little.”

Bokuto blinks. “I don’t know,” he huffs, curling into himself. “It’s been hurting on and off.”

A stab of alarm hits Akaashi. This is the first time Bokuto has admitted the pain, and he probably hasn’t told anyone else, either. “Can you tell me what kind of pain it is? Has it been worsening?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto pitches forward as a wave of pain hits him, arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. “I thought I just ate too much or something, but it hurts around here now.” He gestures around his lower stomach, wincing periodically and letting out shaky exhales.

Akaashi looks around the bus for help, eyes locking onto Konoha. “Konoha-san, excuse me.” He shakes his upperclassman awake, and Konoha cracks his eyes open with a groan.

“What is it, Akaashi?” Konoha whispers, taking care not to wake Komi up beside him.

“Bokuto-san isn’t feeling well. He told me his stomach’s been hurting.”

Konoha wriggles out of his seat, leaning over the backrest to check on Bokuto. “What’s wrong? Are you carsick?”

Bokuto shakes his head miserably. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know what’s happening, Konoha. It just hurts.”

“We’ll move to the back of the bus. Perhaps lying down might help.” Akaashi suggests, and Bokuto nods feebly. “Bokuto-san, can you stand?”

Akaashi takes one of Bokuto’s trembling hands into his own. A jolt of pain runs down to his lower right side as he helps Bokuto to his feet, sickness bubbling in his stomach. Bokuto grips Akaashi’s hand tightly, and Akaashi feels dizzy. He has a fever, another worrying sign.

“Lay down here, okay? What’ll make it better?” Konoha and Akaashi support Bokuto as he climbs onto the seats at the very back, laying on his side with his knees bent. Akaashi keeps a concerned hand on Bokuto’s back, rubbing gentle circles and keeping an eye on the pain levels.

“Konoha-san, can you grab a plastic bag in case he feels sick?” Akaashi adds hastily when he notices that Bokuto’s feeling nauseous. “And let the coach know what’s happening. We might have to stop, worst case scenario.”

Konoha cocks up a skeptical eyebrow. “Look out the window, Akaashi. Traffic’s shit. I don’t think we can pull over anytime soon.”

Akaashi swears under his breath. Konoha’s right; one glance out on the road and he can see cars jam-packed for miles ahead. “Tell him anyway. It’s better than just us.”

Bokuto twitches underneath his touch, sweat and tears forming droplets on his face. “Akaashi, I really don’t feel good,” he choked out, hands balling into fists. “Something’s stabbing my stomach.”

“I know. Just wait a few more minutes, all right? We’ll get you help as soon as we can.”

Truthfully, Akaashi is beyond afraid. Bokuto’s pain only worsens with each second, waves of intense pain coming and going. The calm periods in between the sharp twists in his gut only shorten, and Bokuto is actually about to cry.

As Konoha jogs up to the coach to grab his attention, Bokuto makes a noise that’s in between a hiccup and a sob. Akaashi’s eyes widen in horror, as Bokuto’s fill with dread. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” His eyes dart around in terror.

“Konoha-san,” Akaashi calls for his upperclassman, and panic immediately settles in his eyes. “Bokuto needs help.”

Konoha grabs an empty plastic bag and hands it to Akaashi, exchanging glances with him. It doesn’t take long before Bokuto needs to use it desperately, swallowing down the urge to throw up.

“Akaashi-”

Bokuto grabs Akaashi’s hand in a panic, shoulders rising and falling rapidly. Akaashi’s eyes water from Bokuto’s nausea, but he keeps a straight face as he rubs Bokuto’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi whispers, holding his tremoring body. “It's okay. It's okay.”

Bokuto shakes his head, as if to say it really isn’t. It's not like he can speak, when he's swallowing the warmth in his mouth every few seconds.

“It hurts bad,” Bokuto somehow manages to slur, “Make it stop, please-”

Bokuto cuts himself off with a heave, heat rushing to his cheeks. He vomits violently into the plastic bag, whimpering with every cough and retch. He can barely breathe in between the throwing up, cloudy eyes focusing on nothing.

“Shit, Akaashi. We need to get him somewhere else.” Konoha grabs the hand towels from his enamelled bag, laying them out onto the seats. “I don’t know what’s up, but this isn’t normal.”

Akaashi feels like he’s about to faint. His fingers tremble, and Bokuto’s suffering travels straight to him. “I know. Where’s the nearest service area?” He continues tapping his palm on Bokuto’s back, in a futile attempt to ease his pain.

“We won’t reach there for another twenty-five minutes.” Another voice joins them, but it isn’t to add something hopeful. “This isn’t good. Vomiting leads to dehydration.” Washio lifts himself from his seat, advancing towards his concerned teammates.

Akaashi turns to Bokuto, whose breathing is becoming increasingly laboured. “Do you think you can last for twenty-five minutes?”

Bokuto’s eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know,” he sobs, tears and saliva dripping down his face, “I want to go home.”

“I know. I know it hurts. Just hang on a little more.” Konoha reassures him, tying the plastic bag closed. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“This is ridiculous,” Akaashi mutters. Bokuto’s obviously sick, and they can’t even get out of the traffic jam. “I’m going to go talk to the coach. There has to be some way to solve this.”

“Akaashi.” Bokuto grips Akaashi’s arm with surprising strength. Akaashi immediately stops in his tracks, both from the burst of pain in his lower abdomen and shock. “No. Don’t go, please. Akaashi.”

“I’ll get him.” Washio marches down the aisle, ignoring the drowsy groans of his fellow teammates. Akaashi can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s enough for the coach to head over hurriedly.

“Bokuto, I need you to tell me what’s happening. Does it hurt anywhere other than your stomach?” Coach asks, pressing his hand to Bokuto’s neck. “He needs rest. His body temperature is way too high.”

“I feel really dizzy. And sick.” Bokuto presses his sweaty brow onto the coarse seat, hands resting protectively on his shirt. “Oh, oh god, it  hurts. ”

“Where does it hurt the most?” Akaashi attempts to uncurl Bokuto unsuccessfully. He can barely speak without crying out, and his face has turned ashen. “Over here?” He reaches towards Bokuto’s stomach, and Bokuto tries to scramble away.

“Akaashi, please don’t touch it, it makes it worse.” Bokuto pleads with him, and Akaashi can only mumble hushed apologies as he places his fingers on Bokuto’s stomach and presses lightly.

Bokuto screams as soon as Akaashi makes contact, and the twist of pain akin to being stabbed was enough for him to be sure of his assumptions. “We need to get him to hospital as soon as possible. I think it’s his appendix.”

“Shit, shit, shit. It hurts- fuck, it hurts so fucking much, Akaashi.” Bokuto hisses through gritted teeth, tears flowing down his cheeks without ever stopping. “Make it stop, please, I don’t care how. Just make it stop!”

Bokuto doesn’t suppress his cries this time. Or rather, he can’t. Knives keep digging into his stomach, stabbing at his organs. Akaashi can only hold his hand and bear the pain with him, whispering comforting words that are barely heard.

“Help me, please. It’s so bad. I can’t do this any longer. It’s killing me.” Bokuto reels, his stomach contracting painfully without any warning. His weak attempts at holding it down proves meaningless; he’s vomiting again, shivers racking his abused stomach as he gags.

“Fuck! We need to pull over, now!” Konoha is on the verge of tears himself, exchanging alarmed glances with Akaashi. He extends a hand towards Bokuto, who only looks in his direction with watery eyes.

“Just hold on for a little longer, Bokuto-san. We’re out of the traffic jam. It’s all right.”

Akaashi isn’t sure if Bokuto even heard him, until Bokuto whimpers weakly. “It’s not all right, Akaashi. It hurts so bad…” He lets out a prolonged whimper, too exhausted to even scream.

“All right, I’ll call an ambulance. He’s clearly in a lot of pain.”

The bus skids to a halt as soon as they came to a cleared, open area. Akaashi runs his fingers across Bokuto’s fringe, desperately praying for Bokuto to stay awake. “Help is on its way, Bokuto-san. You’re going to feel better soon. Just a little more. You’re so strong.”

By the time the medics arrive, Bokuto is sobbing silently, every shudder sending sparks of pain to his stomach. It takes multiple of them to uncurl him from his fetal position and carry him out. He cries out sharply as he’s being lifted. His insides are being carved with a meat cleaver.

“Does he have a health insurance card?” One of the medics ask, and Akaashi digs into Bokuto’s bags to look for it. He’d reminded Bokuto countless times before the training camp to not forget it, in case of an emergency. Which clearly is the case right now.

Akaashi hands the card over. “Here it is. I know some of his medical history. Should I board with him?” Bokuto is in no condition to be questioned mercilessly, and he’s fairly certain all he’ll be able for is answering in groans.

“Alright. I’m sure he can do with a comforting presence beside him, too. Come along.”

Akaashi nods, hopping onto the ambulance. He holds Bokuto’s hand, and Bokuto sobs as he tightens his grip. “It hurts, Akaashi. It really hurts,” he murmurs over and over, in between harsh gasps and weak whimpers.

“Do you know his name, age and birthdate?”

“Bokuto Koutarou. He’s seventeen, and his birthday is the twentieth of September.”

Akaashi answers the medic’s questions one by one, while comforting Bokuto as best as he can. “I’m going to need to touch his stomach.” Bokuto recoils at the statement, shaking his head at Akaashi with tear-filled eyes.

“No, no, no. Please don’t touch it, please, no!” Bokuto protests weakly, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. Akaashi exhales, patting his arm sympathetically. He knows more than anyone how much pain he’s in, but refusing isn’t an option.

“You can grip my hand if it’s too much, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s hand is already squeezed so tight he thinks it’s going numb, but Bokuto somehow clenches harder, grinding his teeth together.

As soon as the medic lifts his t-shirt and presses lightly onto the affected area, Bokuto lets out a series of screams that sound nothing like Akaashi has ever heard before. The pain is like nothing he’s ever known, like a knife carving at his organs from the inside.

Bokuto’s nails leave a mark on Akaashi’s hand, but the pain is too much for him to care. He almost wants to let go, to free himself from the excruciating pains, but he keeps Bokuto’s hand in his. He can’t do anything aside from letting him share his pain. Bokuto can’t opt out of it like he can.

“We’re going to need his parents’ contacts. Appendicitis is highly suspected, and we need to perform a minor surgery to take it out.” The medic explains, and Akaashi takes out Bokuto’s student ID card to check for his contact information. He hands it to him and turns to Bokuto, who seems paler than ever.

“Is the surgery scaring you?” Akaashi asks, and Bokuto nods. “It’s going to take away the pain. You can go to sleep, and you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Bokuto doesn’t let go of Akaashi’s hand, even after the ride ends. “Please don’t go, Akaashi,” he whispers, voice hoarse from the screaming. “I don’t want to be alone. It hurts.”

“I won’t be gone long, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi shushes him, but it doesn’t comfort Bokuto. He has to pry off Bokuto’s hand for him to get taken away, and Bokuto lets go after briefly holding on. Akaashi can’t help thinking he’s done something he should be ashamed of.

He doesn’t recognise where he is, until he glances at the sofas beside the reception. He’s been here a few times with his mother, when he got chest infections as a kid. Which reminds him that he needs to call his mother to pick him up.

“Hey, Keiji.”

Akaashi’s mother picks up after three rings. He can hear Mari and Kakeru play some sort of fighting video game in the distance, and Sora begging to join them.

“Hey. I’m at Murakami Hospital right now-”

“Are you okay?! Did you hurt yourself?” She immediately jumps to the conclusion that he’s there because of a volleyball injury, even though he’s never had anything worse than a sprain.

“No, mom. I’m fine. I’m just here because of Bokuto-san.”

“Oh, god. Is he all right? Is  he hurt?”

Akaashi is half convinced that his mother thinks Bokuto is her son too. “He wasn’t feeling well in the bus, and he was having really bad stomach pains, so we called an ambulance. I’m pretty sure it’s his appendix.”

“The poor thing. Is he going to be all right?”

“He’s getting it taken out now. He’s pretty tough, I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

“I’ll come over now. Kakeru, keep an eye on Sora!”

She hangs up, and Akaashi shoves his phone back in his pocket. Akaashi is forced to confront his own racing thoughts. He knows the statistics of a minor surgery going wrong, but his heart still pumps cold blood around his body. Bokuto wasn’t the same powerful captain he knew in the ambulance, when he was sobbing and throwing up from the pain.

“Keiji! Is he all right?”

Akaashi’s mother arrives after fifteen minutes. She paces around the hallway before plopping down beside Akaashi, shooting prolonged glances at the operating rooms.

“He should be out in a couple of hours.” Akaashi replies. It’s been almost an hour, and he can imagine Bokuto on the operating table, completely at the mercy of the surgeons. The thought makes him shiver.

“You helped him out, didn’t you?” His mother cracks a smile. “I’m proud of you both. I’m proud of my son, Keiji.”

Akaashi shrugs. “I knew about him the best, so I guess I felt like I needed to hop on. Also, I hated seeing him crying like that. He would have been more uncomfortable and upset alone. I doubt he’s used to hospitals.”

“You were very considerate of him. I’m sure he’ll pull through just fine.” She ruffles his hair, grinning fondly. And then she stops to ask another question. “Are his parents here? I haven’t seen them. I should probably say hello.”

Akaashi feels his guts shift. “No, I haven’t seen them.” He debates mentioning the bruises on Bokuto’s skin, but concludes that now isn’t the best time.

“We’ll wait until they come. I don’t want the kid to wake up with nobody there beside him.”

His mother has a point, and he nods. “I hope he feels better.”

The surgery is finished sooner than he expects, and neither of Bokuto’s parents are there. Akaashi was initially refused when he asked to see Bokuto, until Bokuto made it clear that he wanted someone he knew with him.

“How are you feeling, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto’s eyes groggily focus on Akaashi. “I’m sleepy,” his voice is scratchy as he speaks, “I feel kinda sick, but ‘m okay…”

Akaashi strokes Bokuto’s hair, unwaxed and floppy. “It’s from the anaesthetic, Bokuto-san. You’ll feel better shortly. The surgery went very well.”

“Surgery? I had… surgery?” Bokuto’s eyes widen, but he’s too shaky to do anything else. “Was it for the stomachache?”

Akaashi lets out a small laugh. “It was your appendix. It’s been taken out from your stomach. I’m sure they’ll let you see it before you go home.”

Bokuto snorts, then winces from his surgical wound throbbing. “No wonder it hurt like a bitch.”

[lilimonarch]

Doctor Hanahaki - The Memories that Never Return [19]

Doctor Hanahaki Prequel: Whumptober spinoff!

Whumptober day 19: "I'm not as stupid as you think I am."

~

I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me

Akaashi felt sick.

He had a feeling this was the worst he's ever felt. His nose was plugged, his chest tight and congested, not to mention the obvious fever burning his skin but riddling his body with tremors and chills. That being said, Akaashi and his overworking, overthinking, mindset had forced himself up and onto the bus for a game.

His coach had already seen plenty of his players past and current go through games sick, pass out on the court, but Akaashi insisted he was different. Akaashi was smarter, tougher, and more responsible than his teammates. He could handle a game with a small cold.

It appeared this was more than just a small cold, it was much more than what Akaashi could handle. There was a break in between sets, and Akaashi knew the fever was killing him. Yeah, he was being sarcastic, but it was one of the worst illnesses of his life. He wanted to kneel over so bad, but the adrenaline and his own dedication where the only things keeping him going.

Being able to stay on the court kept him going.

He was thankful for the break, an opportunity to drink some water, go to the bathroom and splash the cold water on his face, get his composure in check before his teammates asked for the next plan, Akaashi's next strategy. It appeared some of his teammates were slowly catching on, the way his voice was starting to die as his calls grew quieter and quieter. So, he did what he planned. He went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and trying to cough out whatever was in his system before exiting the bathroom, swaying on his feet.

"Now what in the world do you think you're doing?" Bokuto chuckled as Akaashi exited the bathroom.

"Shouldn't you be with the team?"

"Shouldn't you be at home?"

Akaashi sighed, a tightness in his throat forcing a cough, and a tickle in his head forcing a sneeze. "God um... yeah? Probably- but it's fine. Just some allergies, it'll be fine, Bokuto." Akaashi shook his head to get his own focus now, taking a few steps but being stopped by Bokuto.

"You'll make the both of us look stupid if you go back on that court, and if I let you," Bokuto chuckled, laying a hand on Akaashi's shoulder. "Well... I'm not the brightest brain out there, but I'm not that stupid."

"Sure, but we're almost done," Akaashi rolled his eyes, but melting into the touch. How he wanted to fall into Bokuto's arms at this moment! "Their team is... also not the greatest. I'm hardly trying, but we're still winning. I can play. I can finish the second set and then I promise, I'll go home."

"God, you're so hardworking, you know that, right?" Bokuto shook his head, just going to hug Akaashi. "You'd kill yourself if it meant success, you're pretty stupid. As your friend and your captain, I'm making you sit on that bench, for your own safety." No harm behind the words, Akaashi burying his face into Bokuto's chest and trying to keep his stubbornness alive, if not just till the end of the match.

Akaashi's adrenaline was dying, his fever was soaring, and all he could think about was melting into Bokuto's arms on the bus ride back. He hated being like this, being sick, being weak. "You'll have to make me," Akaashi coughed, Bokuto continuing to hold onto him. "As your vice-captain and main strategist, I'm saying I should play-"

"Lovebirds!" Konoha came running through the hall, Akaashi pulling away flustered but quickly holding back onto Bokuto  as his world swayed. He could not pass out, not now, not in front of his team. "Aren't we a flock of lucky owls. The other team just surrendered, we're meeting-" Konoha got eyes on Akaashi's condition, his hold on Bokuto, the way their setter appeared just about ready to give in. A surrender from the other team when their starting setter was too stubborn to quit. "It appears we are some lucky owls. Take your time guys, I'll make sure the freshies pull their weight and load the bus," with that, Konoha left, Akaashi and Bokuto sharing a small laugh.

"As your captain, I'm making you rest. There isn't a game to play," Bokuto cracked a smile, sweeping Akaashi off his feet and lowering his volume. "As your friend, I'm worried about you. You look awful."

"As your teammate, I think you suck," Akaashi joked, but turned to face Bokuto and squinting his eyes shut. Without the adrenaline on his side, everything felt so much worse and he was just about ready to sleep and never wake up. "As your friend, thanks."

Akaashi wasn't sure how to feel. The flutter in his chest as Bokuto carried him onto the bus, his logic too faint to see the judging eyes. The fever making everything feel not quite real, but so vivid. A part of him was upset the suffering was for nothing, where only a set was played, but he couldn't be upset.

Bokuto would save him. Always.

[kuromantic]

my guilty pleasure is sickfic

actually I’m not guilty. fuck it. I’m oversharing. I like characters getting taken care of by their s/o, wrapped in layers of blankets. I. LIKE. SICKFIC. I’ll read/write anything as long as it’s not related to excretion.

[yaoi-writer-simp]

SHIPS THAT I DON'T WRITE ABOUT

TsukkiYama, KageHina, DaiSuga, LevYaku, UshiTen, TsukiKage, KuroTsukki, OiKage.

RARE SHIPS THAT I WRITE ABOUT

AkaHina, KuroShou, AtsuKita, TsukiHina, OiSuga, UshiOi.

SOME COMMON SHIPS THAT I WRITE ABOUT

AsaNoya, BokuAka, KuroKen, AranKita, SakuAtsu, OsaSuna, SemiShira, KinKuni, IwaOi.

I LIKE THESE "UNDERRATED" CHARACTERS (ANY SHIP WITH THEM)

Konoha, Komori, Kunimi.

WHAT I DON'T WRITE

Major Character Death and smut.

WHAT I LIKE TO WRITE

Sickfic, Mpreg, Whump.

PROMPTS I LIKE TO WRITE

Bodyswap, Enemies To Lovers, Fake Dating.

IF YOUR SHIP DON'T APPEAR IN THE "DON'T WRITE ABOUT" SECTION, I CAN WRITE ABOUT THEN.

I WRITE ABOUT EVERY PROMPT, JUST SEND ME WHICH ONE YOU WANT (EXCEPT MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AND SMUT).

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

Can you make a sick akaashi at school or something ? TYSM ✨

You’re in Charge: a BokuAka sick fic

Pairing: sick Akaashi, caretaker Bokuto

Word Count: 3,295

Warnings: panic attack, brief mentions of vomit, swearing

————————————————————

Hello ‘tis me I am back and I’ve completely given up on writing shorter fics.

I could’ve cut this off and finished it in multiple places, but I didn’t bc my brain said “okay but what if you added this...” and I am nothing but a mere peasant subject to my brain’s demands.

Anyway, pls enjoy!

————————————————————

“Thank you for the game!”

The room spun when Akaashi straightened from his bow. He blinked away the black dots in his vision and moved to shake hands with the other team.

The club room called to him tauntingly, promising a cold shower and a change of clothes. He wanted nothing more than to cool off and get out of his sticky, sweaty practice clothes.

The Fukurodani boys’ volleyball team was visiting Shinzen Academy for a friendly practice match. Their games were always intense and Akaashi had to work harder to take in the entire court and his teammates’ conditions. Today was no different all in all, but Akaashi felt more drained than usual.

Even during the game, Akaashi’s body protested his movements if they expended too much energy. On top of that, his brain felt like it was melting. For some reason, his focus was all over the place and he had to set aside more of that energy in order to observe the game in its entirety and make the right sets more than in other games.

Fukurodani won, so he tried to convince himself that the excessive work to maintain control that he put in was worth it, but with how utterly exhausted and uncomfortable and achy he felt, he wasn’t sure he believed it.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled when they entered the locker room. It bounced off the walls and pounded in Akaashi’s skull. He must be dehydrated. He sat heavily on the bench, wiping the sweat off his face and catching his breath. When he reached down to get his water from his bag, his chest constricted and he coughed quietly. Sitting back up, his chest loosed, but he realized suddenly that he was on a quickly descending slope to pure and unadulterated exhaustion. What was going on?

“Great game everyone! Your awesome captain-slash-superstar-ace is very impressed with everyone!” Bokuto exclaimed proudly, his hands on his hips. He walked over to Akaashi and plopped down beside him, throwing an arm around his tense shoulders.

Akaashi loved Bokuto and didn’t want to dampen his mood at all, but his body told him to push the ace away. He resisted the urge, but the touch sent needles across his skin and made his chest tighten more.

“‘Specially ‘Kaashi here!” he said, his volume still set at level 10, “you were on FIRE today!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muttered. The words felt heavy in his mouth, his jaw moving like it was wading through a pool of honey.

“Bokuto, you barely did anything! You went emo mode in the first half of the first set,” Konoha jeered. Sarukui sniggered beside him and Bokuto pouted. He removed his arm so quickly from Akaashi’s shoulders that the setter’s poor brain couldn’t keep up and black dots danced in his vision again.

“Hey! But I had that amazing cut shot!” Bokuto argued back loudly and the dull pounding in Akaashi’s head increased to resemble something like a jackhammer. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. It was his body. His mind. He was in charge of it. So why did he feel like he wasn’t even physically present?

“Yeah, thanks to Akaashi. You wouldn’t be anywhere without that guy. Tell him, Akaashi,” Sarukui teased back.

Akaashi wanted to respond. Really, he did. But it was suddenly very very hot, and his chest was very very tight. It was all he could do to breathe.

“Akaashi?” someone asked. His mouth wouldn’t open to reply. Open dammit. Respond.

“Hey, man. You okay?” No. No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know why. Breathe.

“Akaashi? What’s going on?” He didn’t know. He didn’t know. What was going on? Why was this happening? Despite his eyes being closed, he still felt like he was sitting in a tilt-a-whirl. A haze clouded his head and he didn’t know what was happening anymore.

Every part of his being was exhausted and achy. More than what was normal for after a game, even one of their harder ones. Something was not right at all, but he couldn’t get his brain to sort through all the things he was feeling to figure out why. All sense of control he had over himself was gone and it sent him spiraling further into whatever pit he was falling in to. He needed help. Someone please turn off the heat. Make it stop spinning. Was he floating? Where did the bench go?

“B-Bokuto…” he choked and a hand was on his back. He winced away from the touch and then it was gone again.

“Hey, yeah. Deep breaths, buddy. I’m here Akaashi. What’s up? What do you need?” Was that Bokuto? It sounded like him, but it was almost too gentle, too soft. Akaashi tilted forward against his will, but his forehead was caught by something hard.

“Bo-boku-,” he got cut off by harsh cough, “h-help.” He couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah. It’s me, Akaashi. I got ya. You’re okay, alright? Everything is fine,” Soft-Bokuto said and an arm was wrapped around his back. He whined and tried to pull away.

“Okay, got it. No touching. That’s fine. You’re in charge. You know best as usual, Akaashi! What do you think we should do?”

That’s right. Akaashi always knew what to do, so he should be able to figure this out, right? But if that was true, why was everything moving faster than he could possibly keep up? What should he do?

“Stick-sticky,” he wheezed. Everything around him felt sticky. That needed to go away.

“Okay. Yeah. You got it. Someone get me a wet rag and go find a coach or a manager,” Bokuto commanded.

“What’s happening, Bo?”

“Akaashi, hey. I’m going to wipe off your face, okay? It’ll make you feel better.” No, he did not want to do that. He tried to shake his head.

“N-no—“ he gasped.

“Work with me here, buddy. Okay? I promise I’ll be quick,” Bokuto said. Akaashi really didn’t want that. No one should touch him right now. But it was so hot. And he was so clammy.

“K-Kay,” he said.

“Okay, great! Thank you, Akaashi. You’re doing good, okay? I’m gonna help you. I’m going to touch your face, alright?” Bokuto said, calmly, gently, grounding Akaashi somewhat.

Then Bokuto’s calloused hand was gripping Akaashi’s chin, moving him backwards.

“This might be kinda cold and icky feeling,” Bokuto warned quickly before something that was exactly cold and exactly icky was moving across his face. He whined and tugged his face away, but Bokuto’s grip on his chin pulled him back.

“Hey, just give it a second and it’ll feel better, okay?”

True to his word, Akaashi felt minutely cooler. He sighed and leaned into Bokuto’s hand.

“Yeah, there ya go. Look at that, you can breathe again, huh?” Akaashi nodded. The weight on his chest was gone. There was still too much happening around him, but things were starting to de-fog just a little.

“Nice, okay. What’s next?”

What next? What was bothering him?

Akaashi tugged at his shirt, whimpering. It was stuck to him and keeping him stuck in the pool of honey.

“Oh, yeah. Duh! That shirt’s all sticky too! How gross. You’re so smart, ‘Kaashi. I’m going to need some help, though. Can I ask someone?”

Akaashi whimpered. No. He didn’t want that. Why couldn’t it just be Bokuto? He didn’t want anyone else touching him.

“What about Konoha? He’s a good senpai, right? He’s nice and helpful!” Bokuto asked. That’s right. Konoha is nice. Akaashi nodded.

“Konoha, can you help me out here?”

A hand on his arm, he winced, and then he was moving, tilting the opposite direction.

“Bo, he’s burning up,” Konoha said. Something about his tone set the smallest inklings of panic off in Akaashi’s head.

“Yeah, I said he was on fire just a little bit ago, remember?” Bokuto chuckled. The panic subsided.

“No, I mean I think he’s go—“ Konoha started.

“Okay, Akaashi, shirt’s coming off!”

A rush of cold air hit him and he shivered. It was refreshing and more of the haze cleared away. He felt his feet on the ground, his butt on the bench, Bokuto’s warmth around him. Good things.

Bad things too though. The pounding in his skull. The sweat clinging to his skin. The uncomfortable warmth encasing him. Something heavy in his gut. The quiet in the locker room. The exhaustion.

“Do you want to go wash the sticky off?”

As enticing as that sounded, he didn’t want to move. He was too afraid that his legs wouldn’t listen to him. He shook his head.

“How bout a clean sweatshirt?” Bokuto asked. Clean sweatshirt? Akaashi nodded. Then he was covered again.

“Can I offer another idea, Kaashi?” Bokuto asked.

“Sleep,” Akaashi responded, his jaw still weighed down. That’s what he wanted to do now.

“Not yet, okay? In a bit, I promise. After you hear my next idea, okay?,” Bokuto reassured.

“Y-yeah,” Akaashi breathed.

“How about some water?”

Water? That would probably be a good idea in theory. Something told Akaashi that he didn’t want that, though.

“Just a sip, okay? If you hate it, I won’t make you drink anymore, alright?”

“Bokuto, what’s goin o—“ a female voice, maybe Yukie started but was cut off.

“Akaashi?”

“Then I...c’n sleep?,” he muttered. He leaned forward again, falling, but he was caught and pulled up right again. He was so tired. Would Bokuto let him sleep after this?

“Sure, Akaashi,” Bokuto agreed, rubbing his back. That felt nice.

“Kay,” he sighed.

“Great! You’re doing so good, Akaashi. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here! You always know exactly what to do,” Bokuto said, cheerily. It set some of Akaashi’s nerves at ease.

Something was placed on his lips and then his mouth was flooded with something cold and his eyes snapped open.

Everything slammed back into place all at once and he spit the water out aggressively. His poor brain observed the room around him and was immediately overwhelmed.

The colors swirling in the locker room, the burning on his skin, all the people around him, everyone’s eyes on him, the aching in his limbs. It was all too much. He jolted away from Bokuto, nearly falling off the bench.

Before he knew what was happening, something warm moved up his chest and he heaved painfully, vomiting on the floor.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled, moving towards him.

“Oh my god, Akaashi!”

“What the hell?”

“Oh no!”

Voices flooded his already overloaded senses and he scrambled weakly away, his back hitting the wall. He slapped his hands over his ears and pulled his knees into his chest.

“Everyone get out!” Bokuto commanded loudly, his presence filling the room and everyone froze.

“Now!” He yelled and everyone nodded and left.

That was good. Akaashi needed to be alone now. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to regain control.

Bokuto knelt in front of him.

“Go ‘way,” Akaashi whimpered, trying to scoot further away.

“No can do, Akaashi,” he shrugged, sitting down criss-cross in front of him. He held a hand out to him, but didn’t reach farther than his own knees.

“You’re alright, Akaashi. Take your time. You’re okay,” Bokuto said. It was quiet but the look on his face read ‘I’m here, you’re okay.’ It was so reassuring it made Akaashi want to cry. His lip trembled and he closed his eyes again.

“Don’t...please don’t leave,” he whispered.

“I won’t. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re in charge, alright? I’ll wait ‘til you tell me what to do again. You’re okay,” Bokuto said, firm and unwavering.

Akaashi took a deep, rattling breath in and collected his thoughts. He took an inventory of his limbs and scanned his body. After a few minutes, or seconds, or hours, the tension finally melted away and the fog in his head cleared completely.

Then the exhaustion was back. It consumed him. He slumped against the wall and removed his hands from his ears. His eyes lazily moved towards Bokuto and he saw that the ace still held his hand out. Akaashi reached for it and Bokuto smiled softly and moved towards him.

Bokuto sat against the wall beside Akaashi and wrapped an arm around him. The setter sank into Bokuto’s side, turning his face into his shoulder. Bokuto was warm, comfortable, and safe. He felt like home.

“You’ve got a fever, Akaashi,” he informed after a few minutes.

“I figured,” Akaashi muttered.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you play?”

“I just found out,” Akaashi said bluntly, pulling his head back and resting his chin on Bokuto’s shoulder.

Bokuto was staring down at him, eyes blinking owlishly. If Akaashi was at all with it, he would have laughed. As it stood though, he was slowly losing his battle with consciousness.

A frown replaced the bewildered look on Bokuto’s face and he sighed, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell, Akaashi? You have to take better care of yourself,” he grumbled.

“Sorry,” Akaashi replied lamely.

“It’s okay. Not like anyone on the team noticed either.”

That was true. However, Akaashi didn’t hold that against anyone. It wasn’t their job to make sure Akaashi wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t have the energy for that conversation though.

“Can I sleep now, Bokuto-san?” He moved his head down to Bokuto’s pillowy-pecs and sighed. Regardless of Bokuto’s answer, Akaashi’s body demanded sleep, so he let go and was out in seconds.

Sometime later, Akaashi woke up to the gentle rocking of the bus and the hushed tones of his teammates. His head was pillowed on something soft and sturdy. He blinked a few times before he groaned, registering how utterly terrible he felt.

“Oh, hey,” Konoha said and Akaashi’s eyes found the wing spiker a seat in front of him, smiling down at him.

“Think you can sit up a sec? Bo said you need to take these meds and drink something,” he said, reaching down into his bag.

Akaashi begrudgingly sat up and exhaled slowly. Konoha handed him some pills and a sports drink and Akaashi took them gratefully. Konoha scanned him. Akaashi squirmed under his gaze.

“Those should help with the fever and headache. We couldn’t find anything for nausea though, so if you need to puke again, lemme know. I have a bag.”

Akaashi nodded. He definitely felt better, more in control, than before but he knew that he wasn’t out of the danger zone yet.

Squinting, he surveyed the bus. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the team. Several of his teammates were sleeping, while others were chatting quietly or listening to music. It was a lot calmer than usual and he wondered why. He also didn’t see Bokuto anywhere.

“Konoha-san, where is Bokuto-san?” Akaashi frowned. He hoped he didn’t get Bokuto sick. Konoha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Man, you must be really out of it,” he said, shaking his head. He gestured to the space next to Akaashi and the setter turned his head, shocked to find a snoozing Bokuto directly beside him. The implications of the situation brought a rush of heat to Akaashi’s cheeks. He was positive it wasn’t from the fever.

“So so I was asleep—“

“On Bokuto’s lap, yeah,” Konoha smirked. Akaashi’s frazzled brain couldn’t comprehend how he felt about that, but with the pounding in his chest, he could assume he wasn’t upset about it.

“You scared us, ya know?” Konoha mumbled suddenly, picking at his fingers. Akaashi let out a slow breath and opened his mouth to apologize, but Konoha shook his head.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. None of us knew you were sick and according to Bo, you didn’t either,” he chuckled before getting serious again.

“You got all quiet and spacey and you were hyperventilating. It was like you didn’t really see us and didn’t quite know where you were. Then you just freaked out and Bokuto made us leave.”

Akaashi frowned, trying to remember. There was definitely some recollection of a lack of control and intense heat, but he couldn’t recall explicit details.

“I’m sorry, Konoha-san. I don’t really remember,” he said. Konoha nodded.

“I figured as much. It’s a good thing Bokuto was there. Honestly we probably would have made things worse if he hadn’t stayed calm and taken charge.”

“Yeah. I have some memory of Bokuto being there, but I’m afraid I don’t know what to thank him for exactly.”

All he remembered was feelings of warmth and safety. Konoha cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He didn’t look at Akaashi and the setter felt guilty for burdening his upperclassmen.

“He wouldn’t let any of us near you. Gave us a terrifying look if we tried. I don’t know when he found out about your fever, but when I tried to say something he gave me such a death glare that I shut up pretty quick.” Konoha sighed, glancing at Bokuto.

“Why would he…” Akaashi questioned, staring at Bokuto’s sleeping face. It was serene and he appeared happy and relaxed, even after today’s events. The pounding in Akaashi’s chest made itself known again.

“Uh, well, after we got you on the bus, we asked him what happened,” Konoha explained. “He told us you were sick and apologized for being so stern with us. He said that if we tried to tell you what to do or gave you any distressing news that you’d just freak out more.”

Akaashi’s head swung around so fast, it made him dizzy.

“He said that?”

The fact that Bokuto knew what was running through Akaashi’s head was astonishing. Sure, his need for control was pretty obvious, but he never elaborated on it or talked about it. He never thought that anyone realized the scope of how they affected him.

Konoha laughed again, “yeah. Honestly we thought he was being his normal helpless self. He kept asking you what to do and Saru and I almost yelled at him for being insensitive. But when he was the only one you asked for, we let him do whatever.”

“Wow, uh, I’ll have to thank him,” Akaashi stared at Bokuto again, increasing admiration for the ace blossoming in his chest.

“Yeah, for sure. But hey, for now, just get some rest. We called your mom to meet us at the school. We should be back in like twenty minutes or so.” Konoha turned back around in his seat and settled himself in.

“Turning around on a bus is really dangerous,” Konoha said casually, “I wonder why Bokuto wanted to sit in the back where no one can talk to him.” With that, he put his headphones in and Akaashi knew the conversation was over.

Well...if no one was looking, would it be the end of the world if Akaashi indulged himself in taking a brief nap? On the only pillow he could find at the moment? He was sick after all.

With a deep breath, Akaashi laid back down on Bokuto’s lap. He moved the ace’s hand out from under his back and put it over his stomach. When he made to let go, Bokuto’s hand grabbed his wrist loosely. Akaashi took a moment to be shocked, but then pulled his wrist out of Bokuto’s grasp, only to replace it with his own.

Safe. Warm. Home.

(Later, Akaashi would find out that Konoha is a snake and a liar and turned around on the bus again despite its apparent “danger.” However, if it was only because of the picture the wing spiker sent him of Akaashi sleeping on his new favorite pillow, he decided not to chew him out for it.)

[lessons-from-moths]

HQ Fic Masterlist

Decided it’s finally time to make this masterlist of all of my Haikyuu!! fics! I’ll keep it as updated as possible :) Listed in chronological completed order! 

Don’t Look Down | 4.3k | UkaTake | G | Completed

Outsider POV where the team slowly realizes that their coach and advisor are dating.

Couple? | 2.3k | UkaTake | T | Completed

5 times Karasuno tries to get their coach and advisor to acknowledge their feelings + 1 time they realize that they already have. 

Big Dai Energy | 31.7k | DaiSuga | T | Completed

Single Dad Daichi meets teacher Suga...the importance of found family and love.

Miserable Together | 3.8k | DaiSuga | T | Completed

Domestic sickfic!

The stars are the exception | 13.6k | TsukkiYama | T | Completed

Kei falling in love with Tadashi, much like the moon loves the stars.

Karasuno Alchemists | 13k | DaiSuga | T | Completed

What happens when you put the HQ characters in the world of Fullmetal Alchemist? Sexual tension. 

Broken Toys | 7.1k | EnnoTana | T | Completed

As a sex-repulsed ace, Ennoshita doesn’t think that anyone could bother to love him. Enter Tanaka. 

Good Company | 2.4k | BokuAka | T | Completed

In the midst of an episode, Bokuto accidentally dials a wrong number. Akaashi picks up. 

Expiration Date | 9.8k | DaiSuga | T | Completed

Daichi’s been in love with Suga for years, and it might finally be the death of him. Hanahaki AU. 

Sunset | 11.6k | EnnoTana | T | Completed

Ennoshita and Tanaka through 7 years of their relationship. Written for EnnoTana Week 2020. 

I love you 5 thousand different ways | 11.9k | TsukkiYama | T | Completed

5 times Kei tries to confess using a different love language, + 1 time Tadashi confesses using Kei’s. Written for TsukkiYama Week 2020. 

Kei’s ass in those slacks IS an emergency | 5.5k | BokuAkaKuroTsuki | T 

Silly chatfic of one of my favorite polyships!

The hands we’re given | 37.3k | BokuAka | M | Completed

Zombie Apocalypse AU where Bokuto and Akaashi find each other...and never let go. 

Haikyuu vs Zombies Series | 126k | Multi | M | Completed

Series of works in the same AU following “The hands we’re given”

Rainbow Sky | 3.2k | TsukkiYama | G | Completed

Artist Tsukki who is so damn in love with Yamaguchi...and Yamaguchi finally notices

I AM NOT A ROBOT | 21.3k | KuroKen | T | Completed

In a world of androids and technology, Kenma finds a beat-up android named Kuroo. 

Are you lonely? | 5.4k | MatsuHana | T | Completed

Issei finds that there’s nothing unique about being lonely. 

The end of everything | 70k | Multi | M | Completed

Last installment of Haikyuu vs Zombies series!