Work Text:
Mima took his work very seriously and generally avoided missing it if at all possible, but when he arrived at the office that morning, Sota had taken one look at him and sent him out the door and back home. Realistically, it was probably for the best. On the return subway ride, his sore throat and chills had only gotten worse and trying to stick it out would probably have ended up being more of a hassle than a benefit to his coworkers. Now that a day at the office had been ruled out, he just wanted to go home and rest. Hopefully, if he took care of himself, he would be feeling well enough to get back to work the next day or at least get some work done from home. Arriving home, Mima wasted no time rummaging through his cabinets to find some suitable cold medicine to ease his symptoms and gulped the pills down with a glass of water.
Mima put a kettle on the stove, thinking he would make some hot tea to soothe his throat, and went to change out of his business suit into something more comfortable. Having taken out his contacts and changed into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, he wandered back into the kitchen to find that the water hadn't even started to boil yet. He could already feel the effects of the cold medicine starting to kick in and was starting to become drowsy, felt his eyes starting to close. He shook himself awake and stared at the kettle. Of course, it would be better to have the tea, but at this point he needed rest so he went to turn off the stove top so that he could lie down.
He blinked.
There was no heat coming off the stove at all. He had forgotten to turn it on to begin with. Takayuki let out a sigh which then turned into a huge yawn and he stumbled off to bed. Even as he lay down, he could hear his phone buzzing, but he was already half asleep and quickly descended into a heavy darkness.
It was warm and comfortable in his duvet and even as he returned to consciousness, he kept his eyes shut, trying to prolong his rest even a few moments more. It felt like no time had passed, but a glance at the clock on his bedside told him it was already nearing noon. He eventually blinked awake. His head felt fuzzy from the medicine, but he did take a moment to check his phone for work emails. Scrolling through revealed that there was nothing urgent enough that it couldn’t wait for a response tomorrow at the office, so he closed out of his inbox.
There were quite a few unread messages awaiting him in his friends' group chat, but he could read those later, as well. As he was about to turn his phone off and try to return to resting, though, he realized there was another notification for him from just one sender. Mima tapped his screen to open the messages from Hayate.
[10:34 AM] Igarashi-san told us that you were feeling ill. I hope you feel bitter soon.
[10:34 AM] *Feel better soon!
[10:35 AM] I apologize for the typo.
Takayuki smiled down at his phone. He could easily imagine Hayate getting flustered over the typo and scrambling to correct the error. He was already picturing the slight flush that was often painted across the younger man’s face when all of a sudden he heard a familiar voice coming quietly out of his phone’s speaker.
“Hello?”
Mima’s brow furrowed as he stared at the device.
“...Mima-san?”
He put the phone up to his ear and spoke into the receiver.
“Hayate?” The line went silent for a moment and then,
“Yes, this is Hayate. Is everything okay, Mima-san? Are you feeling all right?”
Mima’s thoughts still felt blurry from the cold medicine and his voice was rough from his sore throat, but he smiled as he listened to Hayate’s voice across the line.
“I’m starting to feel somewhat better. How did you know I wanted to talk to you?”
There was a much longer pause this time and then a hasty, “Ah, um, Mima-san, I think you may have dialed my number accidentally. I apologize if my text messages disturbed you. I know you probably need to be getting as much rest as you can.”
“You didn’t disturb me,” he laughed softly. “I apologize for calling you out of the blue.”
“No, it’s okay! I’m glad to hear from you. My classes are done for the day, so it wasn’t an issue. I hope your symptoms go away soon.”
“Ah, I’m sure they’ll disappear quickly enough… I had intended to make some tea to soothe my throat, but after waiting for longer than I should have, I realized I never turned the kettle on.” Mima chuckled softly, which turned into a slight cough. “I’d like to think the cold medicine caused the mistake, but it’s just as likely that it’s my usual forgetfulness.”
As he waited to hear Hayate’s response, he laid his head back onto his pillow and closed his eyes for just a minute. Before he realized it, he felt himself dropping off again, until he heard Hayate speak up once more.
“...I understand. I’ll do what I can. I’ll see you soon, Mima-san.”
“Mm… see you soon, Hayate,” he mumbled before taking another big yawn.
He wasn’t exactly sure how soon he would be seeing the group at the cafe. He’d likely want to spend some time recovering and then focusing on his work, but he smiled and appreciated the young man’s optimism. He really did hope to see him soon. Without another thought, he pulled his duvet up and drifted back into his slumber.
—
Hayate had been standing at the door with his finger hovering over the doorbell for nearly five minutes at this point. Was it really okay for him to be here? He glanced down at the bag full of supplies that he carried in his other hand. Wouldn’t it be better for him to leave Mima alone and let him rest? The man was easily more competent than him when it came to life matters; doesn’t it make sense that he would be capable of taking care of himself? Did he really need Hayate’s help? Did he even want it?
His thoughts wandered back to their previous phone call. “How did you know I wanted to talk to you?” Hayate felt his cheeks start to warm. Listening to Mima’s voice, rough with sleep, casually dropping the honorifics and saying he wanted to hear from him felt strangely intimate and left him more flustered than he should have been, although he didn’t understand why.
Then he thought about Mima’s coughing and strained voice. He thought about Mima arriving at his own apartment not long ago, looking for support after a long day of work; not wanting to be alone dealing with his residual anxiety in the aftermath of a particularly harrowing video game experience.
He braced himself, closed his eyes and pressed down, hearing the muted ring echo behind the door.
As he stood on the doormat, he silently repeated all the reasons why this was probably a terrible idea and had to steel himself against simply turning around and minding his own business, rather than hassling a sick person on their rare day off. He was just about ready to give in when he heard the door click open and looked up to see a slightly disheveled, but cool and handsome as ever Mima standing in front of him.
He paused to note Mima’s mussed hair, the slight flush to his cheeks from his illness, his casual bedclothes, quite at odds with his usual businesslike appearance. Then realizing his rudeness, quickly averted his eyes and shifted into a deep bow.
“Mima-san! I’m sorry to disturb you when you’re feeling ill.” He tripped over his words, “I thought maybe I could help you get some rest or, um, bring you some… um… items… if you needed them…” he finished lamely.
Takayuki just stood in the doorway blinking, as if he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or still half asleep.
“Hayate-kun?”
Hayate felt somehow relieved hearing the -kun. For some reason, when he thought about Mima addressing him so directly, his heart started to race and he didn’t want to think about that at just this moment.
Takayuki’s head felt foggy and he was taking longer than usual to process the situation in front of him. “I’m happy to see you, but I’m not really prepared to host guests right now…” he looked around as if expecting to see Souma or Shun standing behind Hayate, but it was just the boy himself standing there with his head bowed and a bag full of unknown supplies.
“Ah, no, I know that, um. I just thought I could maybe bring some things to help, if you would accept them, since you, um, live alone. I thought you might be sick enough that it would be good to have someone around.”
Hayate blushed and wondered why it was he’d thought he should be that person. Mima has a sister who could come over and take care of him. Wait, he might even actually have a girlfriend who would be there with him? He never spoke about a partner, but would he talk to Hayate about her if he did? Was it actually super creepy for him to show up at Mima’s door? He quickly stumbled over apologies and explanations, trying to explain why it was he actually showed up, but then Mima just smiled slowly and answered calmly.
“Please come in. I’m glad you came,” and he stepped aside as Hayate nodded and awkwardly shuffled through the entryway. The younger man noticed that there were no women’s shoes on the mat as he stepped out of his own, nor did there seem to be any coats hanging on the rack to indicate someone else in the abode.
He placed the bag on the kitchen counter and started to take out some various cold medicines and cough drops, as well as a sealed piece of tupperware and a jar of honey. Mima wondered briefly if he should be helping with these tasks, but passing the gateway into the house seemed to have renewed Hayate’s confidence.
“Mima-san, please go lie down. I’ll bring you some tea right away.”
Takayuki nodded, yawning, and made his way back to his bedroom. Climbing under the covers and adjusting for comfort, he picked up his phone again and figured he should respond to the group text now that he was feeling a bit more awake. He glanced at the chat history.
[10:32 AM] Motoharu: Everyone, please give your condolences to our poor comrade, Takayuki, who has been struck ill and might very well be on the verge of death, since he has gone so far as to miss one day of work.
[10:33 AM] Hayate: Do you know if Mima-san’s okay? Did he text you asking for something?
[10:33 AM] Shun: he’s dying???? shouldn’t he go to the hospital
[10:36 AM] Motoharu: lol
[10:37 AM] Motoharu: I’m just kidding, I think it’s just a cold.
[10:37 AM] Shun: i knew that
[10:44 AM] Souma: @Mima-san, feel better soon!
[10:44 AM] Souma: drink lots of water and get some rest.
[10:44 AM] Souma: come by the cafe when you’re up to it ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾
[10:48 AM] Shun: get well soon
Takayuki smiled and started to type out a quick response.
[12:39 PM] Mima: Thank you all for the well wishes. Hayate-kun is here now, so I’m sure I’ll be feeling better soon. I’m going to rest now, but I’ll talk to you all in the near future.
[12:39 PM] Shun: sensei’s there?
[12:39 PM] Souma: is hayate-kun taking care of you? lol
[12:40 PM] Souma: ( ・◇・)？
He quit the app and put his phone down on his bedside. He heard the chat continue to vibrate with responses, but he’d respond later. He closed his eyes and felt his breath even out, listening to the faint noises of Hayate bustling in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, the kettle was starting to boil along while Hayate pulled out the few ingredients he had brought with him. He wasn’t an amazing chef or anything, but Asami had once shown him how to make the simple broth that she used as a base for some of her soups at the cafe and would go down easily for someone with a sore throat. He resumed making Mima’s tea with the leaves that had been brought out and abandoned earlier that morning. As the kettle hissed, he completely missed the sound of his phone buzzing with updates from the group chat. Hayate grabbed a tray to carry the tea and soup, as well as a cold compress, some cough drops and a mandarin orange. The citrus might be too acidic on a sore throat, but the Vitamin C would be good for Mima’s system, if he was up to it.
The sunlight warmed Hayate as being padded across the hall and through the door to the bedroom that had been left open. Once he stepped inside, though, he stopped in his tracks. Before him was Mima, poking out from under a thick comforter, eyes closed and face turned toward the younger man. The neckline of his t-shirt hung low and revealed his clavicle. His bangs, which he usually wore pushed back from his face, had fallen gently over his forehead and, paired with his unusually messy hair, contrasted with the mature and formal image that Hayate was used to. The feeling of uncharted territory fell upon him again and he quickly looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to reprimand him for this unearned and unexpected level of intimacy.
He stood frozen like that until he noticed Mima start to blink awake and rest his gaze on Hayate.
Hayate rushed over immediately so that the contents of the tray were visible and then quickly averted his eyes from the man in front of him.
“Ah, um, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I brought some things for you, if you’d like…”
Mima nodded sleepily, but gave a grateful smile and pushed himself up slightly, indicating that he could place the tray on his lap. Hayate swallowed and leaned over, hovering above Mima and then gently setting the tray down. His face was feeling hot and he felt completely out of his depth. Why was he feeling feverish? Even if he did catch the illness himself, he shouldn’t be showing symptoms so soon.
Mima picked up the mug and took small sips.
“Did you add honey?”
“Oh, uh, yes, for your throat… sorry, I hope that’s okay,” came the mumbled response, as he pointedly looked away.
“Thank you, Hayate,” Mima said warmly.
At that Hayate jolted and turned to face him, and then quite abruptly stood up, “Well then, I better-”
“I’m sorry to ask you this, but could you put the compress on for me? It’s difficult to apply it to my own forehead.”
Every word Takayuki spoke sounded drowsy and weighed down with sleep. Hayate didn’t trust himself to respond verbally, so he just nodded sharply and reached down to pick up the chilled material. He felt his hands shake slightly as he gently pushed back Mima’s bangs to place the compress and unconsciously glanced down to meet his eyeline. Hayate felt his heart hammering like it would leap out of his chest. His face burned all the way to his ears and down his neck. Mima maintained his usual calm appearance, but there was something almost playful about the look he was giving, and just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, Hayate realized he was at his limit and practically jumped up.
“I should go take care of the dishes now!”
Mima just chuckled affectionately as he rushed out of the room and returned to his tea as the honey soothed his throat.
Hayate frantically scrubbed the dishes while taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and throughout his body. After thoroughly cleaning each one, he left them out on the drying rack and spread the additional medicinal supplies neatly across the counter for ease of access. He transferred the remaining broth to the tupperware he brought with him, attached a quick note and placed it in the refrigerator. He wiped the dishes once more with a dry cloth and stored them back in their appropriate cabinets. He felt his pulse start to slow down and was ready to pack up when Mima reappeared in the kitchen. The younger man started to ramble about heading out, hoping that the older felt better soon, apologizing for the bother, until Mima just nodded and moved closer into Hayate’s space. He simply placed his hand on Hayate’s shoulder, placing the slightest pressure pulling Hayate into him and murmured a quiet, “Thank you.”
All at once, Hayate felt the softness of Mima’s shirt pressed against him and he knew his own heart was pounding hard enough that the other almost certainly felt it, too.
He stepped backward, gave a bow deep enough so that his face was hidden from view and then turned and practically ran out of the house.
—
Even after Hayate arrived home, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he had just experienced; the tightness in his chest, Mima sleeping peacefully in front of him, how he looked unguarded and ruffled, feeling overwhelmed by his warmth and his scent as he was pulled into not-a-hug. He was about ready to take a cold shower to calm down when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hesitantly looked at the new message from Mima.
[2:34 PM] The soup was delicious.
Hayate threw himself down on his bed and covered his face with his hands, just beginning to contemplate the trouble he’d gotten himself in.
—
The next morning, Hayate woke up with a sore throat and a fever.