Chapter Text
Hajime woke up to his alarm, reaching out blearily to shut it off before rolling over, stretching his arms out with a yawn. He frowned, his hand hitting Tooru’s soft, messy hair.
“Oikawa?”
Hajime rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow as he shook Tooru’s shoulder. He was usually out of bed by now, humming away in the bathroom or running errands at the shops. Instead he lay curled up underneath the covers, his lips shaking ever so slightly.
He shook Tooru’s shoulder a little harder, kicking him slightly in the shins. “Hey, Tooru. Wake up.”
“Hajime?”
Tooru stirred, his voice barely there as he curled up tighter, his muscles visibly shaking now as he burrowed deeper under the blankets.
Hajime pressed the back of his palm up against Tooru’s cheek, sighing as his skin burned under his touch.
“Cold, Hajime,” Tooru whined, pushing his hand away.
Hajime watched Tooru shiver for a moment before sitting up, stumbling out of bed with a yawn. He headed into the bathroom, shaking out a few ibuprofen and filling up a glass of water, taking it back into their bedroom.
“Here.”
He sat on Tooru’s side of the bed, shaking him gently until he opened his eyes, sitting up blearily.
“Iwa-chan,” Tooru said softly, rubbing at the crust built up in his eyes, taking the pills Hajime handed him. “My knight in shining armor.”
“Just take the pills, idiot,” Hajime said, holding out the cup of water.
“That’s no way to talk to someone on their death bed,” he said, scrunching up his nose as he shivered again.
“You must be feeling better if you can joke like that,” Hajime said, getting up to head to the dresser. He shucked off his sleep shirt, throwing it in the direction of their hamper before digging around for an undershirt in his drawer. The sound of a glass setting down softly on the nightstand reached Hajime’s ears and he turned around, finding Tooru watching him blankly from under the covers.
“Do you want me to call Sugawara and ask him to cover your shift today?”
Tooru rubbed at his nose idly, sniffling as he watched Hajime move quietly around the room. “Eh? No, I’ll go.”
“Are you sure?”
He walked over to the side of the bed, narrowing his eyes as he watched Tooru try to hold his shivering in check. “I think that’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll be fine.” Tooru reached out, grabbing Hajime’s wrist in his slightly clammy palm. “I’m feeling better already.”
Hajime didn’t say anything, just shook his wrist out of his grip before heading for the bathroom, turning on the faucet to wet his toothbrush. It was quiet in the house, the usual sounds of Tooru humming in the kitchen, a pot of coffee brewing or the TV playing softly absent this morning. He turned off the faucet, his ears ringing slightly in the silence that followed.
When he walked back into the bedroom, Tooru was fast asleep again, snoring slightly. He had spread out over the whole bed, his socked feet sticking out of the covers on Hajime’s side as he shivered even in his sleep. Hajime just shook his head, pulling another blanket from their closet to cover him before pulling out his phone.
It rang three times before Sugawara picked up, mumbling sleepily into the phone.
“Do you think you could cover Oikawa’s shift today? He has a fever.”
Hajime paused, listening to Sugawara’s sleepy drawl as he leaned against the doorframe, watching Tooru’s back rise and fall. He eased the door shut after a moment, stepping quietly down the hall.
***
“Iba-chan, how was work?”
Hajime shut the front door behind him, hanging up his jacket as he glanced over at Tooru propped up on one of the kitchen stools, his laptop open on the counter. He looked more alert than this morning, the only sign he was sick the thick college sweatshirt he was wearing that he’d probably stolen from one of Hajime’s drawers.
“It was fine. I saw Hanamaki and Matsukawa for lunch.” He came up behind Tooru, leaning over his shoulder to peer at his laptop. “What are you up to?”
“Kenma sent me the link to some houses,” he said, angling his screen so Hajime could see a one-story farmhouse, painted a mint green. Tooru’s voice sounded stuffed up, his words thick as he sniffled slightly. “I think they’re too small, though.”
“You went and called that realtor?” Hajime said, his hands sliding absentmindedly to Tooru’s shoulders. “You sound like you should be in bed.”
“What else was I supposed to do all day?” Tooru whined, swiveling in his stool to look at Hajime. “Suga-san called right before my shift and told me not to come in.”
“Good.”
Hajime pressed the back of his hand up against Tooru’s cheek again, humming slightly when he met cool skin. Tooru leaned into his touch, bringing his hand up to cover Hajime’s.
“What do you think of these houses?”
Tooru tapped his laptop and the screen flickered, a more modern-looking house with a wraparound porch showing up.
“Hm.” Hajime leaned in closer, reaching over to click back and forth between the tabs Tooru had up.
“I like the porch.”
“What about this one—here, look—”
Tooru’s sentence was punctuated with a loud sneeze, Hajime immediately pulling away as Tooru snuffled over his laptop.
“Gross,” he said, pushing Tooru’s head forward as he moved into the kitchen.
“You can’t just rough house a sick person, Iba-chan,” Tooru said, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “I’b vulnerable.”
“You’re disgusting,” Hajime said, placing a glass on the counter in front of Tooru and filling it with orange juice. “Now drink this.”
“I hate orange juice.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re sick,” Hajime said, rolling his eyes as he pulled open the fridge. “No vitamin C.”
“Mom always made me chicken soup,” Tooru pouted, resting his head down on the counter, watching Hajime with his pathetic puppy eyes.
Hajime snorted. “Did your mom also put up with your whining?”
“Iba-chaaaaaan…”
Tooru had buried his head in his arms, his voice muffled as he let out another loud sniffle.
Hajime glanced at him, rolling his eyes as he pulled a can of chicken soup down from the cupboard.
***
Hajime clicked off the TV, scratching his stomach as the room fell into darkness. Tooru had passed out between his legs on the couch in a haze of cold medicine, the cop show Hajime had been watching punctuated with muffled snoring. Now he lay with his head pillowed on Hajime’s thigh, a small puddle of drool collecting on his jeans.
“Hey.”
Hajime pulled his legs out from under him gently, sitting up to let Tooru’s head rest in his lap. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Tooru just mumbled incoherently, curling up around his knee when Hajime tried to shake him awake.
“You can’t sleep on the couch when you’re sick,” Hajime said, trying to pull Tooru up by his torso.
“Haji’e, stop…” Tooru slurred, wrapping an arm around Hajime’s leg. “Tired.”
Hajime sighed, letting go of Tooru to slide out from under him, shaking his arm off his leg. Tooru just rolled over, coughing into the cushions before settling into deep, even breathing again.
Hajime bent down, shaking him awake again before bracing himself, pulling Tooru up off the couch with a grunt.
“Wha—Iwa-chan…”
Tooru wrapped his arms around Hajime’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder as Hajime carried him down the hall.
“You’re heavy,” Hajime said, stopping in the doorway to readjust his hold under Tooru’s knees. Tooru just coughed in response, Hajime grimacing as he felt it against his neck.
“I swear to god if you get me sick…”
He set Tooru down on the bed, shucking off his own jeans before joining him under the covers. Tooru immediately inched forward, draping an arm around Hajime’s waist to hug him from behind.
“I’m glad we’re getting a house together,” Tooru said, his words slurring together, his breath warm in Hajime’s ear.
Hajime shifted slightly, letting Tooru press closer to him under the blankets. “How much of that cold medicine did you have?” he said, readjusting his pillow. “You sound drunk.”
Tooru just laughed slightly, his breath tickling Hajime’s neck. It was quiet for a moment, Tooru’s breath evening out in the darkness of their bedroom.
“I’m glad, too.”
Tooru’s arm was limp around Hajime’s waist, his nose whistling slightly as he lay dead asleep.
***
“How’s the house hunting going?” Kuroo asked, drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter, peering at the binder Tooru had left behind before his shift.
“Slow.” Hajime propped his chin up in his hand, stifling a yawn as he worked on the newspaper’s crossword puzzle. “Oikawa was sick for a few days and that Kenma guy didn’t want to meet up with us.”
Kuroo snorted, sliding Tooru’s binder closer to him on the counter. “Sounds like Kenma.”
“He’s just as difficult as being friends with you,” Hajime said idly, penciling in a word.
Bokuto looked up from the comics section of the newspaper he’d spread out on the opposite side of the counter, giving Kuroo a big grin. “Ouch, man.”
Kuroo just gave him a look before flipping open the binder, making sure to keep the newspaper clippings of houses for sale from flying out. “Do you know what kind of house you want?”
Hajime put his pencil down, watching Kuroo flip through Tooru’s neat, block writing, glossy pictures of empty rooms and porches on the pages. “I have an idea.”
“What is this grand idea?” Kuroo said, stopping on a one-story house with brick siding. “Big enough to house all your very best friends when we have to drive our asses out of the city to see you?” Kuroo gave him a smirk, Bokuto nodding seriously from behind the counter. “This one looks kind of small for that.”
“Why don’t you pay for it, then,” Hajime said, pulling the binder closer to him. He flipped to the next page, a two-story farmhouse with an attached garage, the selling price written neatly underneath in Tooru’s handwriting.
“It looks like you have zero input in this house business,” Kuroo said from over his shoulder, looking down at all of Tooru’s notes.
“What makes you say that?”
“I mean, doesn’t Oikawa always plan everything anyway?” Bokuto said, wiggling his eyebrows from across the counter. “He’s always working too much on weird things. Sounds exhausting.”
“No,” Hajime said, closing the binder carefully. “We’re doing this together.”
Kuroo sat back on his stool, grinning as he swirled his drink in his hands. “Then tell me all the details. How many closets? Bathrooms? Blue tile or white?”
Hajime picked up his pencil again, pulling his crossword closer. “I was thinking three bedrooms.”
“Three bedrooms?” Kuroo whistled, leaning forward on the counter.
“I knew you secretly wanted us to stay over,” Bokuto said, grinning.
“Sleepover in the suburbs,” Kuroo said.
“Are you going to provide the popcorn?” Bokuto stood up straight, tapping his chin. “Nah, Akaashi would probably bring the snacks.”
“Tell him to bring me beer.”
“We’re not doing that,” Hajime said, giving them a look. “I just want one guest bedroom, and one bedroom just in case—”
Hajime closed his mouth abruptly, dropping his eyes back down to his crossword. “Just in case—for guests,” he finished lamely, twirling his pencil in his hands.
Kuroo opened his mouth, shooting Bokuto an excited grin. “Oho, what kind of guests?”
“Two guest bedrooms are kind of excessive, Iwaizumi.”
“Maybe for a more permanent guest?” Kuroo said, raising an eyebrow. “The kind you have for eighteen years?”
“Stop.” Hajime stood up from the counter, collecting their empty glasses to bring to the sink. “Why would you think that?”
“Are his ears turning red?” Bokuto said, leaning across the counter to whisper loudly to Kuroo.
“Don’t you two have a shift to be getting to?”
“Don’t worry, Iwaizumi, we won’t tell Oikawa about your little slip up,” Kuroo said, snickering.
“Yeah, our lips are sealed,” Bokuto said, miming zipping up his mouth.
“That’s believable, coming from you.”
Kuroo snorted, doubling over at Bokuto’s scandalized expression. “I’ll make sure Bokuto doesn’t tell anyone you want a little baby Iwaizumi—”
Bokuto laughed as Iwaizumi lunged forward, pinning Kuroo’s arm behind his back until he started yelling.
***
Tooru sat humming on the living room floor, arranging more house printouts in his binder as Hajime lay on the couch, book in hand. Every now and then the low buzz of the TV was punctuated by a sneeze, Tooru sniffling into his arm.
Hajime put his book down on his stomach, watching Tooru slip another page into a thin plastic cover. He turned around after a moment, sensing Hajime’s eyes on him.
“Did you call Kenma back yet?” he said, shifting into a sitting position on the couch as Tooru watched him with wide eyes.
“Of course.” Tooru leaned forward, resting his forearms on Hajime’s crossed legs. “He wants to show us some houses on Saturday.”
“Great.” Hajime was quiet for a moment, feeling Tooru’s eyes on him as he ran his fingers absentmindedly over Tooru’s arm.
Tooru cocked his head, studying Hajime’s face. “Iwa-chan, what’s wrong?”
“What do you want most in our house? If you could choose what you wanted?”
“Hm.” Tooru sat back on his heels, licking his lips as he gave Hajime a smile. “I told Kenma we wanted something with three bathrooms and a porch, because you liked them. But I’d like a kitchen island to cook on.” Tooru’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward again to rest his elbows on Hajime’s knees. “And better bathroom tiles than the tacky ones here.”
“That’s it? Just a kitchen island?”
“Eh?” Tooru propped his chin in Hajime’s lap, fixing him with a look. “As long as Iwa-chan likes it. And it’s not ugly. Sorry, Iwa-chan, sometimes you have terrible taste.”
Hajime pressed his lips together, choosing to ignore the last bit. “How many bedrooms do you want?”
“At least two. It would be nice to have guests sleep over.”
“What about three?”
Tooru rocked forward slightly, giving Hajime a smile from where he had his chin propped up on one of his knees. “That sounds nice.”
“Okay.” Hajime sat back, running his fingers lightly through Tooru’s hair. “You know, we could have changed the bathroom tiles here if you wanted.”
“Iwa-chan!”
Tooru climbed up onto the couch, knocking Hajime onto his back as he threw his arms around his neck. “But we don’t have to change them now that we’re getting a house together.”
Hajime grunted, almost doubling over as Tooru elbowed him in the gut in an attempt to drape himself over Hajime.
“I think I want a bigger living room,” Tooru said, wiggling until he just fit in the space between Hajime and the cushions. “So we can get a bigger couch.”
“I don’t know,” Hajime said, stretching out on the couch so that he squished Tooru up tighter against the cushions. “This is the perfect size for me.”
“Iwa-chan, you brute,” Tooru said, laughing as he tried to push Hajime over. “And I want a bigger bed to get away from your heavy monkey arms at night.”
Hajime pushed his face away, recoiling slightly when he felt Tooru’s snot rub off on his palm. Tooru ducked out from under his hand, letting his chin rest on Hajime’s shoulder.
“What else do you want for our home?”
“For our home?” Hajime was quiet for a moment, liking the way our home felt on his lips. He shrugged, feeling Tooru’s chin move up with the movement. “Maybe a place outside to grill?”
“Like a deck? Or a big backyard?”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips, feeling Tooru watching him. “What about you?”
Tooru hummed, Hajime feeling the vibration against his side. “I want a big glass backdoor that looks out over a nice yard. And big windows.”
Hajime looked around their dim living room, the small window only letting in a sliver of streetlights from outside. “That sounds good.”
Tooru shifted on the couch, letting his head rest against Hajime’s chest. “Do you want anything else?”
Hajime bit his lip, not sure how to answer him.
“I’m not sure yet,” he finally said, bringing up a hand to run through Tooru’s hair.