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Raindrops pound softly against the passenger door window, dripping down until they melt away with the wind. Kiyoomi stares past the drops, blurs of headlights and colors mixing together as the downpour continues. His father's voice raises, finally snapping the boy out of his haze.
“Kiyoomi!”
The sickly raven jumps in his seat, biting his tongue as his father pushes on the break, jolting him forward. Fresh blood fills his mouth, his tongue pulsing.
“Kiyoomi Sakusa! Are you even listening?!”
Kiyoomi nods quickly, his curls bouncing in front of his eyes. “Y-yes father I was, I’m sorry I-“
The man grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. a hard lump forms in Kiyoomi's throat, a cold sweat starting on his neck. He picks at his fingers, drawing blood from his nail beds.
“What did I just say then, huh? Can you tell me that?” The huge man hisses through his teeth, veins popping out of his porcelain skin. Kiyoomi can practically see the steam shooting out of his ears, his face getting redder by the minute.
His father had been screaming at him for a good 30 minutes, and halfway through he’d begun to tune it out, disassociating with the world around him. He has no idea what he’s been going on about.
“I…well-“ Kiyoomi begins, his voice wobbly as tears begin to form in his muddled onyx eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought! Too damn busy with your head up in the fucking clouds to give a damn, right? Too busy fucking around in la la land?”
Kiyoomi shudders, avoiding eye contact with the blazing dark pupils that belong to his father. His breaths have become uneven, hiccups starting in the back of his throat.
“No! That’s not it at all! I just-“ the meek boy starts, his voice cracking as he tries to keep his composure.
His father hates it when he cries.
The dark-haired man reaches down, violently grabbing one of his sons' wrists, and squeezing it tightly. Kiyoomi cries out, using all his strength to try and pull out of his father's iron grip, but to no avail.
“You just what, huh? You’re so goddamn sensitive y’know that? Can’t believe my son grew up to be such a fucking snowflake.”
Hot tears stream down Kiyoomi’s face, his small hands desperately trying to release his father's grip from his wrist. He squeezes tighter, causing the small ravenette to sob in his seat.
“Dad! Please, please let go!! I’m sorry!” The frail boy howls, his cries filling the vehicle.
“Not until you learn to grow up! I shouldn’t have to take you into the goddamn hospital every week because you can’t fucking handle anything!” He spits, the vein in his neck pulsing furiously with rage, and his blood pressure skyrockets.
“I will! I will! I’m sorry…” Kiyoomi wails, tears and mucus streaming down his face. The boy is met with a sharp slap to his cheek, stinging with pain as more tears burst from his eyelids. His now free wrist pulses, his father's handprint left on his glassy skin.
“And stop fucking crying! Are you a baby? Need me to change your diaper and feed you?” The man rolls his eyes, his matching curls shaking side to side as he shifts his attention from the road to his crippled son.
“N-no sir…” the boy whispers, a hiccup interrupting him midway.
“Hm? I couldn’t hear you, need to speak up.” He grunts, his anger filling the air around them, building up a suffocating pressure.
“I’m not a baby.” He responds, louder this time, his voice high and squeaky compared to his father.
The man takes a deep breath, the muscles in his face relaxing as they turn into the driveway of their home. He pulls in, yanking the key out and turning to stare at the sniffling boy.
He grabs his face, jerking his jaw to the side to assess the handprint on his tear-stained cheek. He presses his thumb harshly into the mark, eliciting a small whimper out of the boy.
When he finally pulls away, he unbuckles his belt and steps out of the vehicle, leaning down to look at the boy who’s frozen in his seat.
“Look at me.” He demands.
Kiyoomi turns his head slowly, his eyelids puffy and swollen from crying. He meets his father's cold gaze, an abyss of black peering into his fragile soul.
“You’re not going to school until that mark is gone. Do you understand me?” He barks, words harsh on his tongue.
Kiyoomi nods. “Yes sir.”
A small smile crawls across his father's stony face as he slams the car door shut, walking inside their home.
Kiyoomi sits in the passenger seat for a while, hot tears pouring over his sore face as he wonders what he did to deserve this.
That night, after eating silently with his family, he tucks himself into bed early. He grabs his pillows, hugging them tightly as he squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the tears that pulse against his eyelids. The words of his father replay in his mind, over and over again on a loop.
He cries himself to sleep that night, vowing to himself to never pester anyone about his health or his anxious thoughts ever again.
—————————————————————————
Flash forward to several years later. Kiyoomi is now an adult, no longer a boy, but a man. He’s a successful player for the MSBY Black Jackals and even played in the Olympics.
He grew up to be cold and distant, the most standoffish person you could meet. He never grew attached to anything or anyone, viewing his own life through the lens of a realist.
Everything has a purpose and a reason. That’s just how it is.
He grew up to be almost exactly what his father had dreamed of. A stone-cold athlete who made decisions based on logic, not emotion. That’s how it appears on the outside at least.
There was one thing Kiyoomi was never able to shed himself of though, no matter how many times he tried to mask and scrub away at it.
Kiyoomi was a hypochondriac. His life was dictated by his health, his brain always finding ways to murmur dark intrusive thoughts over and over despite the actual condition he was in. For the most part, he’s able to mask his anxiety, pushing through injuries and sickness as if it is ‘not a big deal’.
This mindset backfires on him, during a particularly brutal winter when Kiyoomi would come face to face with his anxiety and past.
It started on a Friday morning.
Kiyoomi’s alarm went off at its usual time, 5:45 on the nose. After snoozing the blaring siren that is his ringtone, he kicks his covers off only to reveal a pool of sweat covering the sheets on his side of the bed.
He blinks a few times, making sure he’s not dreaming. He presses his palm to his back, feeling the damp fabric clinging to his skin.
“What?” He whispers, in awe when his hand comes back drenched in his own sweat.
He makes his way to the bathroom, flicking on the light to get a good look at himself.
He’s taken aback by his own reflection.
His skin is covered in a light sheen of sweat, shiny in the vanity lights as he twists and turns his body. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink, his lips are chapped and on fire. A bead of sweat drops down his forehead, across his twin moles, and into his eye. He strips his shirt off, tossing the damp fabric into the corner of the room.
As he begins examining his neck, his pulse visible through the veins in his neck, he hears the front door of the apartment open, along with several heavy footsteps.
“Omi~! Are ya up baby?” Atsumu’s sweet voice drawls, echoing in the hallway.
Kiyoomi peeks his head out the door, his head getting woozy from the sudden shift in position.
Woah. Something is definitely not right.
“Yes, I’m up.” He shouts, his deep voice ringing in his ears as he returns to what he was doing.
After a few minutes of looking himself over, he reaches into one of the drawers, pulling out a thermometer. After making sure to thoroughly sanitize the metal piece, he sticks it under his tongue until he hears a small beep.
He crosses his fingers as he pulls it out, praying that his suspicions are wrong.
His heart sinks as the number flashes on the screen.
38 degrees Celsius. On the dot.
Kiyoomi's hands scrabble to turn on the sink, violently splashing cold water all over his face. When he finally looks up, his face is still very warm, pink, and now dripping wet.
Maybe it’s something he ate? Surely his temperature will go down a bit, once he’s fully up and moving.
Right?
Kiyoomi spends the rest of his morning trying to act normal, as though his body isn’t in a feverish heat, bad enough to soak through his black T-shirt completely by the time he gets to practice. He prays that his teammates and boyfriend don’t notice.
Practice that day is especially difficult. His head pounds with the worst migraine he’s ever had in his entire life. The edges of his vision are blurred, the lights above him causing his head to throb even more. Sweat drips off of him from head to toe, despite only halfway through the session. Each time he jerks to go receive, set, or spike his muscles contract painfully, a sharp pain rippling through his entire body.
Halfway through practice, their coach calls for a break, giving everyone a chance to recuperate. The minute the whistle blows, Kiyoomi stumbles over to a secluded corner, turning around and sinking down the wall.
He sits there for a while, knees pulled to his chest as sweat dribbles down his chin onto the shiny waxed floors. His thighs tremble when he tries to readjust himself, a sharp pain shooting up his spine. He squeezes his eyes shut, hissing under his breath.
“Omi?”
His eyes shoot open, looking up to meet the gaze of the golden boy, Atsumu.
Kiyoomi gulps, silently praying Atsumu just came over to tease him about his shitty performance of the day. From this angle, combined with his hazy vision, Atsumu glows in the overhead lights, looking like an angel ascending from heaven.
“What is it Atsumu? Is something wrong?” He pants out, his voice catching in his throat.
Atsumu bends down, squatting so he’s at Kiyoomi’s level. He leans in close, his swirling amber irises so close Kiyoomi swears he can see flecks of gold in them. Atsumu gingerly pushes Kiyoomi’s curly bangs out of his eyes, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead.
“You must be working extra hard today…you’re burnin’ up real bad.” He mumbles, soft eyes taking in Kiyoomi’s features.
Normally he’d resist Atsumu’s tendencies, but right now he’s too exhausted to care. When Atsumu cups his cheek in his palm Kiyoomi leans in, giving it a small kiss.
“Are ya sick Omi?” The blonde asks softly, eyebrows pinching together in concern.
Kiyoomi flicks his eyes to his shoes, avoiding the blonde's gaze. Those puppy dog eyes never fail to strike him straight in the heart.
“I’m fine, just a little sore. I’ll manage.” Kiyoomi mumbles, taking a deep breath through his nose. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Atsumu leans back, balancing on his heels. He pouts a little, his nose scrunching up as Kiyoomi continues to avoid his gaze. “Well, just be sure not to push yourself. Really don’t need ya collapsin’ on us Omi!” Atsumu teases, half serious.
Kiyoomi chuckles a little, the vibrations of his voice sending shocks through his body. Even laughing hurts.
“Yeah. Will do.” Kiyoomi stands up, walking past Atsumu, avoiding his clearly concerned gaze.
Just make it through today, Kiyoomi tells himself. Then you can deal with this at home over the weekend.
The rest of the practice is brutal, reaching levels of borderline torture. By the end, Kiyoomi’s vision is so blurred he can barely make out his own hands. The bile in his stomach pushes against his throat, nausea building up. He’s panting so hard, never able to get enough air despite taking in many mouthfuls of air. His muscles and joints scream in pain with each movement, the pain so bad tears start to form in his eyes. He’s a sweaty, feverish mess.
But he can handle it. No, he has to handle it.
It’s just a minor inconvenience after all.
When practice finally finishes, Kiyoomi can barely walk his way into the locker room. The opening and closing of lockers cause the man to wince, the sound of metal ringing in his ears. He presses his forehead against his own locker, trying to focus on his breathing.
It’s a struggle to get fully clothed again. Today, he hadn’t even bothered to rinse off, which he always has time for. As Kiyoomi painstakingly pulls on his winter boots, wincing as he bends over, he feels all eyes on him.
“Sakusa, are you okay? You’ve been acting funny all day man.” One of his teammates asks. He’s too disoriented to even tell which one it was.
“I’m,” he starts, a sudden wave of nausea hitting him. He inhales deeply, willing it to go away. “I’m fine…I just want to go home.” He mutters.
Nervous energy fills the room as they all begin to make their way toward the exit. Finally, home at long last.
Kiyoomi hears Atsumu talking to someone behind him, but he’s too tired to absorb the conversation. All he can think about is taking a bath, and then collapsing into a long slumber.
Everyone says their goodbyes, weary eyes watching as Kiyoomi and Atsumu get on the subway that brings them home to the shared apartment. Kiyoomi collapses into the seat, his legs completely spent. Atsumu sits next to him, reaching for his clammy palm. Kiyoomi shivers as Atsumu intertwines their fingers together, reaching around to gently pull Kiyoomi’s head towards him.
“You can rest on my shoulder, Omi.” He whispers, smiling gently.
Kiyoomi opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his tongue. He can barely think. Atsumu doesn’t seem to mind. Ever so softly, he presses Kiyoomi’s head into his shoulder, adjusting his coat so that it’s more comfortable for the raven.
Within minutes Kiyoomi is dozing off, his body radiating heat like the sun. Atsumu doesn’t let go of his hand, no matter how sweaty his palms get.
Kiyoomi can’t remember how, but he eventually makes it home. Atsumu gently rests his boyfriend on the couch, stripping his jacket and other winter gear from his body. When Atsumu goes to undo his shoelaces, Kiyoomi lunges forward, slapping his hands away.
“I can do it Atsumu, I’m not a toddler.”
Atsumu huffs, pushing the sickly man back into the cushions. Kiyoomi’s eyes look at the man bewildered, his cheeks turning scarlet with embarrassment and illness.
“I don’t think yer a toddler, Omi. But right now, I need ya to relax. You don’t look too good.” Atsumu states firmly, a hint of worry in his voice.
Kiyoomi gives up after that, surrendering his body to his boyfriend's antics. Atsumu goes into the kitchen, wetting a washcloth and wringing it out. He makes his way back to Kiyoomi, gently laying him out fully on the couch, and cradling his head gently. Even still Kiyoomi winces as Atsumu gently sets his head on top of one of the throw pillows.
A small noise comes from Atsumu, sounding somewhere between a sigh and a hum. He folds the washcloth and places it on his boyfriend's forehead, moving his drenched curls out of his eyes.
“Does that feel better?” He whispers
Kiyoomi nods slightly. “Mmm…thank you.”
Atsumu gently trails his hand up Kiyoomi’s arm, tracing the blue veins that show through his porcelain skin. Kiyoomi relaxes into the touch, the pounding in his head finally quieting a bit with the lack of noise.
Atsumu gets up quietly, throwing his coat over his arms. The front door squeaks, altering the half-asleep kiyoomi.
“Where are you going?” He asks out of breath
“I’ll be quick, gotta go get somethin’. I’ll be back in a few minutes, just hang tight.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t have the energy to utter a response back, instead collapsing back into the cushions. Atsumu leaves, the lock clicking behind him.
Kiyoomi closes his eyes, consciousness fading as he listens to the soft hum of the ceiling fan.
He doesn’t know how long he sleeps. All he knows is that when he wakes up he’s drenched in his own sweat, not a sign of his partner.
All he can think about is washing away the filth of the day, ridding his skin of the dried sweat, tears, and saliva from his body. He stumbles to the bathroom, eyes barely open as he slams the door.
If he looked horrible this morning, he looked like he crawled his way up from hell now. From what he can make out in the mirror his body looks so wet, he could’ve just gotten out of the shower. His whole body is a shade of baby pink, the moles that litter every inch of his skin contrasting against the new shade. Kiyoomi’s rapid heartbeat fills his ears, the light fluttering choking him.
The next thing Kiyoomi knows, he’s fallen onto the bathroom floor, almost hitting his head on their bathtub. He shivers as his body alternates between being scalding hot and freezing cold.
Kiyoomi hears the front door slam open, followed by the sounds of keys jingling.
“Kiyoomi? Where are ya baby?”
Kiyoomi clutches his fist tighter, the cool tile pressing against his burning cheek. He can’t feel the tears streaming down his face.
Hurried footsteps make their way to the bathroom, a small gasp echoing in the hall as Atsumu drops everything to crawl to Kiyoomi’s side.
“Sweetheart, what’re ya doin’? You were s’posed to stay put.” He asks, his voice sounding like he’s on the verge of tears.
Kiyoomi can barely make out the blonde's face, even as the man cradles his head in his lap, stroking his cheek. His eyelids are heavy, the prospect of finally sleeping seemingly so close, yet so far.
Kiyoomi reaches his hand upwards, finding its place on the side of Atsumu’s head. He pets his hair, shakily taking in a deep breath before speaking.
“I…wanted to take a bath…but you weren’t back yet so…” hazy onyx eyes wander across Atsumu’s face, trying to focus on his features. It’s impossible, his vision is too distorted. All he can make out is the platinum blonde locks and his honey-colored skin.
Atsumu hushes him, pulling him further into his lap. The heat radiating off him feels amazing, heating up his chilled and shaking body. He knows that he’s probably supposed to be doing the opposite —cooling down—but at this point, anything helps. Atsumu strokes his hair lightly, kissing him on his temple while rocking him back and forth ever so slowly.
“I’m so sorry Omi, It was my fault for leavin’ ya alone…” he murmurs against his sweat-coated skin.
Kiyoomi hums, his whole body relaxing into his touch. He wants nothing more than to stay like this forever.
While keeping Kiyoomi wrapped in one arm Atsumu reaches into their vanity, pulling out the same thermometer Kiyoomi used this morning. He wipes it off his shirt, before gingerly placing it under his boyfriend's tongue.
Kiyoomi can tell it must be pretty high by the way Atsumu sucks In a breath, eyes darting back and forth between the thermometer and his face.
Suddenly Atsumu hooks his other arm under Kiyoomi’s knees and begins lifting them both off the ground. After a few minutes of struggling to get his grip, Atsumu successfully has Kiyoomi cradled in his arms. Kiyoomi nuzzles his face into Atsumu’s throat as he exits the bathroom.
If he weren’t sick out of his mind right now, he’d be bewildered by how much he can lift. Kiyoomi’s not exactly small, both height and weight-wise.
Atsumu makes it to their bedroom, setting Kiyoomi down on the mattress. he begins sliding off his shoes and socks, speaking softly to the feverish man.
“I’m gonna start a bath for ya okay? Then we’ll see how ya feel and maybe I can fix ya up somethin’ to eat.” Atsumu says softly, his voice sweet and smooth like honey.
Kiyoomi nods, giving the man permission to leave the room. A second later he can hear water pouring into the porcelain tub. The sound is soothing, the constant stream of water hitting the bottom making it sound like an artificial waterfall. Atsumu comes back a few moments later, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows with a towel slung over his shoulder.
Kiyoomi pushes himself up into a sitting position, a wave of vertigo hitting him like a truck. Atsumu places a hand on his back, right in between his shoulder blades to keep him upright. Once again, Atsumu picks up Kiyoomi, straining a bit before getting a good grip on the man. When they make it back into the bathroom, he sets Kiyoomi on the toilet.
The raven barely registers when Atsumu’s fingers crawl under the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it carefully off his body and discarding it on the floor.
Oh my god, he’s undressing me.
Kiyoomi’s hands slap Atsumu away as he tries to unbutton his pants. Before Atsumu can interject, Kiyoomi puts a word in.
“I-I can do it…just give me a minute.” He pants
Atsumu nods, placing his hands on Kiyoomi’s thighs as he fumbles with the button for a good three minutes before finally undoing it. Much easier to do when your fingers aren’t shaky and you can actually see.
That’s all the farther Kiyoomi is able to get though. His arms give out as he tries desperately to push the fabric down past his thighs. Kiyoomi starts to hyperventilate, tears pulsing against his eyelids. A small sob escapes his throat.
Why does my body hate me?
Atsumu gently pulls his hands away, placing them around his shoulders as he pulls the fabric down his body, exposing his pale, freckled legs to the cool air around them. Kiyoomi shivers, his hands gripping the back of Atsumu’s T-shirt as he finally strips off his boxers, leaving him completely naked.
It’s humiliating and almost dehumanizing as his boyfriend places him into the bathtub, the warm water engulfing Kiyoomi’s body. With one hand on the back of his neck, Atsumu grabs a washcloth with the other, wetting it in the bath water and working it into Kiyoomi’s skin.
His calloused fingers work over sore muscles, massaging softly as Kiyoomi sighs underneath him. Aside from the sounds of water dripping and their breathing, the room is silent. It’s relaxing, his headache dulling down slightly with each push and pull of his muscles.
With his eyes closed, the blonde begins running the warm water over his scalp, massaging it in until his entire head is sopping wet. Atsumu grabs Kiyoomi’s shampoo from the shelf and pours some onto his curls, making sure to cradle his head gently in his palm.
Using his fingertips he lathers in the soap, the raven's charcoal curls becoming a tangled bubbly mess. Kiyoomi jumps a little when warm water pours down his scalp and face, the bubbles now
infecting his bath water. Atsumu slowly lowers Kiyoomi’s head down, moving his hand out from where it was on his nape.
The raven whimpers, a cold shiver going through his spine at the loss of heat.
“Don’t leave…” he rasps, his voice catching in his throat
Atsumu presses a kiss to his cheek, his lips soft against his clammy skin. “I won’t baby, just grabbin’ your conditioner.”
This time the blonde uses both hands to work in the conditioner through Kiyoomi’s damp curls, making sure each inch is covered in product. The room smells of coconut and aloe, medicinal with a hint of tropical.
Several minutes later, when Kiyoomi’s hair and body are completely rid of sweat and tears, Atsumu wraps his drenched arms around his neck, standing the sickly man up in the tub. He takes the towel from his neck, wrapping it around Kiyoomi’s broad shoulders, tucking the fabric under his chin. He grabs another towel from behind him, tying it loosely around his waist.
After a small struggle, the blonde manages to lift his boyfriend out of the tub, setting him on the toilet lid before pulling the drain.
Atsumu pats his shivering body down, placing a soft kiss on his forehead as his curls drip water down his face.
“Do ya feel any better?” The blonde whispers, attentive eyes flickering back and forth between Kiyoomi’s body and his sleepy irises.
“A little…” he mutters, lip quivering from the cold. Atsumu reaches up to grab another towel from the cabinet behind them, placing the fabric right on top of Kiyoomi’s drenched curls.
Ever so softly, taking care to not jostle his head around too much, the blonde pats his hair dry. Kiyoomi closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he allows himself to be vulnerable.
Atsumu proceeds to get Kiyoomi ready for bed, helping him brush his teeth and comb his now unruly curls. The blonde dresses him in a loose pair of pajama pants, combined with one of Atsumu’s old, worn-out sleep shirts. Kiyoomi presses his nose into the soft fabric, the scent of his boyfriend's cologne and skin permeating his lungs.
Atsumu holds Kiyoomi’s hand, gently guiding him to their bedroom. He turns on the humidifier at Kiyoomi’s bedside table, the soft scent of lavender filling the air around them.
Without a second thought, Kiyoomi collapses onto the bed, his soft curls spreading themselves across his pillows. Atsumu places a small kiss on his temple while pulling the duvet over Kiyoomi’s shivering body.
“Are ya feelin’ hungry at all? I can whip somethin’ up for quick before ya fall asleep.” The blonde whispers, stroking his fingers down Kiyoomi’s cheek lightly.
“No…I’m fine.” The raven mutters back, using all of his strength to look Atsumu in the eyes. He’s met with a deep ocean of honey gold, his eyebrows pinched up slightly as a small smile sits on his lips. If Kiyoomi wasn’t on the brink of death, he’d pull the man down and kiss him as hard as he could, stealing the breath from his lungs.
“Alrighty then, lemme go get yer medicine and then you can go to bed, ‘Kay?”
Kiyoomi nods silently, whimpering slightly as the warmth of his hand leaves his cheek. When Atsumu returns he has two pills in his hand, with a glass of water in the other.
“What are-“ Kiyoomi starts, readjusting himself into a sitting position.
“Just somethin’ to bring the fever down and some painkillers. The other one is for yer nausea.” He answers, his voice soothing the anxiety building up in the raven's chest.
Atsumu drops the pills into Kiyoomi’s outstretched palm and watches as he downs them in a single gulp. Before Kiyoomi has a chance to ask, Atsumu already has the lip of the glass pressed to his lips. The raven sips slowly, the cool liquid running down his tight throat.
“That’s it, good job baby.” Atsumu coos, the praise warming Kiyoomi’s already pink cheeks. After the blonde sets the glass down, he strips his own shirt and pants off in front of Kiyoomi, climbing into the spot next to him.
Kiyoomi flinches initially as Atsumu wraps his arms around his shivering body, pulling him into his chest. Kiyoomi settles into the embrace, nuzzling his face into his boyfriend's throat, his soft breaths tickling the blonde.
The warmth from Atsumu’s body radiates off his skin like the sun, calming the shivers that have been tormenting Kiyoomi since this morning. He feels safe and sound, the steady beat of his heart filling the raven's ear as he melts into him.
A small lump begins to form in his throat, and tears start to build.
He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to be taken care of, to have all of his needs met by someone who doesn’t benefit at all from the interaction. This feeling of contentment blooming in his heart needs to be quelled, the burden of his health weighing down upon everyone in his life.
Before he knows it, Kiyoomi is crying softly into Atsumu’s shoulder, his lip trembling as salty tears fall into his mouth. Atsumu pulls his head away, getting a good look at the sobbing man curled up into a ball at his side.
“Hey, hey,” Atsumu starts, clearly startled by the tears flowing from his lover's beautiful onyx eyes. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Shh, don’t cry, I’m here…tell me what’s goin’ on.” He coos, wiping away some of his tears with his thumb.
Kiyoomi just cries harder, his chest heaving up and down with choked sobs. As tears drip down Atsumu’s skin, the blonde rocks them back and forth whispering comforting words into Kiyoomi’s curls.
“It’s okay baby, I’m here. You’re alright.” He repeats over and over again, allowing Kiyoomi to work through his emotions. When his words finally return to him, his voice hoarse and raw, Atsumu picks up on what he’s finally saying.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” His voice high and strained as it catches in the back of his mucus-filled throat.
Atsumu’s chest tightens, pressure building in his own body at the thought of his beloved Kiyoomi suffering so much. Tears prick at his own eyelids as he presses his cheek into Kiyoomi’s skull.
“You don’t need to be sorry, love. I want to be here. I want to help you.”
He’s been around Kiyoomi long enough to know that the raven often feels like a burden when he needs assistance. Maybe not today, but eventually Atsumu wants to ask Kiyoomi about it, and delve into the mysterious past of the raven clutched in his arms.
They stay like this for a while, Atsumu cradling Kiyoomi as many waves of sobs and tears rack over his feverish body until eventually, he falls into a deep slumber. Atsumu never truly falls asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness, making sure Kiyoomi has assistance when he finally wakes.
Kiyoomi wakes up the next morning, covered in a light sheen of sweat. His stomach growls unhappily, hunger eating away at his insides. He still feels light-headed, but his pounding headache has been reduced to a dull throb.
Seems like the medicine Atsumu gave him must’ve worked somewhat.
Atsumu.
Kiyoomi reaches over to the other side of the bed, only to come up empty-handed. He sits up, looking around for any sign of the blonde. When he can’t see any sign of him, he kicks the sheets off his body, pushing himself off the mattress while making his way to the door.
He’s only able to make it to the doorway before a wave of nausea hits him like a truck, leaving him clutching onto the doorway while breathing heavily. Atsumu turns around the corner, almost bumping into the heaving man while balancing a plate on his palm.
“Oh my god Omi! Ya scared the shit outta me!” The blonde yelps, stepping back a few inches. Kiyoomi lets out an annoyed cough, trying to straighten himself out.
“Did I now?” He pants out sarcastically before bile builds up in his tongue, threatening to spill out. He slaps his hand over his mouth, rushing as fast as he can to their bathroom.
He spends the next five minutes emptying out his stomach until he’s left clutching the toilet bowl and choking on stomach acid and saliva. Atsumu followed him into the bathroom, holding his curls back as his body shivers and wretches over the porcelain bowl.
“Good job baby, get out all the nasty stuff.” Atsumu coos, rubbing his other hand in gentle circles on Kiyoomi’s sore back.
Eventually, the vomiting subsides, and Kiyoomi’s left with a pounding headache and the bitter taste of bile on his tongue. He readjusts himself so his back is leaning against the bathtub, legs curled up to his chest. He tucks his head between his knees, trying to gain control of his ragged breathing. Atsumu sinks down next to him, continuing to massage his back.
“I wish there was somethin’ I could do for ya Omi…I hate seein’ you like this.” Atsumu whispers.
Kiyoomi’s heart clenches in his chest, the pain flowing through his entire body. Tears build in his eyes as years of his father's lectures fill his mind, the nights where he cried himself to sleep, never understanding why he was born this way.
“Don’t…feel sorry for me Atsumu. It’s not a big deal…” the raven mutters, his voice raspy.
“Whaddya mean ‘it’s not a big deal’? Yer body is literally burnin’ itself up! not to mention you puked for like, ten minutes! I’d say that means yer pretty sick.” Atsumu retorts, his voice soft and stern.
Kiyoomi can’t take it anymore. Hot tears stream down his cheeks as he squeezes his body together as small as he can get.
“You just don’t get it.” He chokes out, his lip trembling.
Atsumu scooches closer, gently removing his hands to reveal his tear-streaked face. “What don’t I get sweetheart? You know I won’t judge ya, right?”
Kiyoomi looks up, meeting the warm honey-like glow of Atsumu’s face. His eyes are soft and caring, his brows upturned just slightly. More tears pour from the raven's eyes as his body shakes with choked sobs.
“What if I’m just making it all up?! Every day I wake up I’m always able to find something wrong with me, isn’t that a little weird?” He manages to gasp out between sobs.
Atsumu’s eyes go wide as Kiyoomi continues.
“Almost ninety percent of the time nothing is actually wrong with me, it’s all in my head. It’s all in my fucking head!” Kiyoomi hits himself repeatedly hard on his temples, the force sending waves of pain through his skull.
Atsumu grabs his wrists, holding them down with light pressure. Kiyoomi struggles against him, thrashing his head back and forth.
“Kiyo-“
“I’m just faking it! Everything is just in my head.” Kiyoomi yells, pushing his feet against the tile as more tears pour. His lungs feel like they're on fire, crushing down on themselves as each second passes.
“Kiyoomi, listen-“ Atsumu manages to get in before Kiyoomi raises his voice over him.
“I’m just so tired of it all! Everything hurts Atsumu, everything hurts…”
Atsumu moves so that he’s kneeling right in front of Kiyoomi, his hands holding onto his biceps. Kiyoomi shakes his head back and forth slowly, his hands pressed into his damp eyelashes.
“Kiyo sweetheart, can you please look at me?” The blonde whispers, moving a piece of hair out of Kiyoomi’s vision. Kiyoomi shakes his head, taking small gasps of air through his sniffling.
Atsumu persists, moving Kiyoomi’s hands out of his face and placing them in his lap. He cups his hands on Kiyoomi’s jaw, lifting his face to meet him. The raven opens his eyes, pink and sore from the tears.
“Hi” the blonde whispers, a small smile playing on his lips. Kiyoomi’s world slows down, Atsumu’s presence bringing him back to reality. The raven's breathing steadies and the tears finally slow.
Atsumu clears his throat, running his thumb along Kiyoomi’s cheekbone.
“Kiyoomi, your health is never a burden to me. I care about ya so much, and I like it when you tell me what’s on your mind. I don’t know who told ya that was a bad thing, but whoever it was is a complete piece of shit.”
The last part of the sentence stings and Kiyoomi flinches at the thought of his father's booming voice and the searing pain from each hit.
“And even if some of your problems are minor, it never hurts to check them out. It doesn’t hurt bein’ a lil cautious right?” Atsumu chuckles softly, squeezing Kiyoomi’s cheeks.
Kiyoomi huffs, a small flush flooding his cheeks. Atsumu always loves teasing him about his signature saying.
“Never have I once thought that you were makin’ this all up. I know how you work Kiyoomi, whether you like it or not. But right now yer clearly sick, and ’m here to take care of ya. That’s what I signed up for when I became your boyfriend.”
Atsumu leans forward, pushing himself in between Kiyoomi’s legs to give him a small kiss on his forehead. The raven melts into the touch, humming as his warm lips press against his clammy skin.
“I love you Omi, even if you're a little anxious sometimes. In fact, I think it’s cute that ya have so many little habits just to stay healthy. It’s honestly admirable.”
Kiyoomi chuckles softly, causing his lungs to ache. “Oh stop, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He mumbles sheepishly.
“No, no it’s the truth! Do I look like a liar to you?” Atsumu pouts.
Kiyoomi takes a moment, staring deeply into his boyfriend's gold irises. He can feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into the never-ending ocean that is Atsumu Miya. Kiyoomi leans into his palm, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of his skin. “No, I guess not. Even if you tried to lie, I can always tell.” He mutters.
Atsumu smiles softly, pressing his thumb into Kiyoomi’s flushed cheek. “I’m not that bad! I can get away with stuff sometimes.” He chirps playfully.
The mood has lightened now, some of the pressure in the air lifting off Kiyoomi’s shoulders. He lets Atsumu pick him up off the floor, bringing him back to bed. The blonde makes the two of them breakfast, some simple eggs and toast, not to upset Kiyoomi’s stomach further.
They eat their breakfast while catching up on one of their favorite K-Dramas, Atsumu hand feeding it to Kiyoomi despite having two working hands. Afterward, they snuggle up under their covers. Atsumu's attention is still diverted to their television as Kiyoomi falls asleep using his chest as a pillow.
Kiyoomi awakens a bit later, finding Atsumu entering their room with two bowls of soup in each hand. Kiyoomi wraps their blanket around himself, cocooning himself completely except for his face.
“Are you trying to poison me?” Kiyoomi grunts, wrinkling his nose as Atsumu passes his bowl to him.
“Why can’t ya just be grateful I don’t letcha starve Omi? I put a lot of love into this!” The blonde retorts, sticking his tongue out at him.
“Do I at least get a spoon?” The annoyance in his voice is high, his dark brows furrowing as he watches his boyfriend frantically look around for a utensil.
“You didn’t bring one.” The raven says dryly, a smug grin crawling across his lips as Atsumu’s face glows with embarrassment.
“Shut up! I musta left it out in the kitchen. I’ll go get it quick!” Atsumu takes his bowl with him, tilting it up and sipping the broth right out of it. Kiyoomi doesn’t know if he should feel endeared or disgusted.
Atsumu arrives a minute later, silverware in hand. He plops onto the bed, shoving it right into Kiyoomi’s very annoyed face.
“Here ya go! Nice and clean just for you” Atsumu smiles, his cheeks still glowing a soft pink. Kiyoomi stares at his hand and frowns.
“I’m not hungry.”
Atsumu’s jaw drops, his eyebrows pinching together.
“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me! I made that just for you!” The blonde whines, flailing his hands around in the air.
Kiyoomi stares blankly, enjoying his overdramatic boyfriend cross his arms across his chest in a temper tantrum.
“Are you done yet?”
Atsumu leans forward, snatching the bowl from Kiyoomi’s cold fingers. The raven gasps, reaching out.
“What the-“
Atsumu holds it tight to his chest, turning away from him. “Fine then! Looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way!”
Kiyoomi gives him a puzzled look.
“Hard way?”
Atsumu nods, a teasing smile forming on his lips.
“Yup! Guess if you won’t do it yourself I have no choice but to feed ya like a big baby!” Atsumu cheers, dropping the spoon in the bowl. He stirs it around before scooping a small amount into the spoon, bringing it to Kiyoomi’s lips.
“Atsumu, this is stupid.” Kiyoomi spits, pulling his head away.
The blonde leans in closer, holding the spoon up for his boyfriend.
“Oh c'mon Omi, I know yer hungry and it’s also your favorite. Pleaseee for me?” He pleads.
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, giving into the adorable blonde. “Okay fine. Only until I’m full though.”
Atsumu hums, pressing the liquid to his mouth once more. This time though, Kiyoomi opens his mouth, allowing the blonde to feed him.
The broth is warm and hearty, making his insides feel fuzzy. He accidentally lets a small smiles pass his lips until he remembers Atsumu is next to him.
“See told ya~” he teases, pressing another spoonful to his agape mouth.
Much to Kiyoomi’s surprise, he manages to drink the whole bowl, each spoonful satisfying the hunger gnawing at his stomach. He finishes by licking his lips and giving Atsumu a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you love, it was delicious”
Atsumu blushes furiously, biting his lip as his heartbeat sped up in his chest.
“G-Glad ya thought so! Too bad I’m not as good a cook as ‘Samu…”
Kiyoomi scoffs, tucking a strand of loose hair behind the blonde's ear. “Don’t worry about that, I do all the cooking anyway.”
Kiyoomi leans back against the headboard, settling back into a sleeping position. He pats the spot beside him, inviting Atsumu to lay down.
The blonde eagerly takes up the offer, setting the dishes down on their bedside table and crawling under to covers. Kiyoomi crawls in close, nuzzling his face in the crook of Atsumu’s neck while running his cold feet up his leg.
“Christ yer feet are cold! Shoulda put some socks on you.” Atsumu chuckles, playing with one of the curls at his nape.
“Mmm, I like this better though.” The raven mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. Atsumu shivers at the contact.
As they settle into their normal positions, Kiyoomi takes Atsumu’s hand and begins playing with his fingers. Massaging each joint, running his fingers along the patterns that adorn his calloused palm.
“You know, even though your hands are calloused over, they’re still really soft.” Kiyoomi thinks out loud.
“Well, that’s cuz I put lotion on them all the time to keep ‘em from drying out.” The blonde answers.
“Wait really? That’s not just some rumor?”
Atsumu chuckles, light and airy. “Nope, it’s all true. Can’t believe you didn’t figure it out sooner mister ‘I know everythin’ about you’”
Kiyoomi jabs him in the ribs lightly, earning a small “ow” from the blonde.
A while later, right before Kiyoomi is about to drift off to sleep, he peers up at his boyfriend, who’s once again occupied himself by watching tv and playing with his hair.
“Atsumu?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Atsumu breaks his eyes away from the TV, pressing his cheek against Kiyoomi’s temple. Kiyoomi shivers as Atsumu’s breath tickles his ear.
“I love ya too Omi, always and forever.”
Kiyoomi knows this is true. He knows that Atsumu is his home, his safe space away from the rest of the world. Atsumu will take care of him in sickness and in health and it’s the only thing Kiyoomi could ever hope for and more.
He hopes to be able to return this favor one day, making the man that makes him feel so loved and complete feel the exact same.