Work Text:
Haru didn't get sick often, but when he did, whatever illness he had hit hard.
He’d been nursing a mild cold for the better part of the week, doing his best to cough when he had a moment alone and generally carrying on as usual. On Wednesday, though, he felt significantly worse, and he must’ve looked it, too, because the Chief took one look at him and sent him home, telling him not to come back to work until he was fever-free. So, Haru set his phone alarm for seven the next morning, as usual.
Before he even opened his eyes, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving his bed today.
God, I feel like shit.
Haru reached an arm over to turn his alarm off, groaning at the headache beginning to develop from the shrill beeping, and coughing as his body protested the motion. He groaned, massaging his forehead in the hopes of relieving some of the pain. On top of that, his entire body ached, chills wracked his body, and his brain felt hazy, like it wasn’t working properly. He sighed, rolling onto his stomach. If nothing else, maybe he could sleep it off today, and return to work tomorrow.
He had nearly fallen asleep when his phone’s default ringtone startled him awake. A message from Daisuke, asking “are you okay” and “do you need anything” shone on the screen, and all of the sudden, he wasn’t annoyed at losing out on some rest. If Haru was being honest, the message warmed his heart.
He and Daisuke had been in a loosely-defined relationship for about a month now, and were very much still in the honeymoon phase, meaning that their sex life hadn’t gone stale and they hadn’t had any major fights, excluding any bickering that occurred during work.
Haru sent back an I’m okay, feel like shit though, and started scrolling through the case files he’d downloaded on his phone. He would’ve started work ten minutes ago on a normal day, and didn’t want to waste time if he couldn’t sleep anyway.
So he thought.
A knock at his door woke him up. Haru groaned. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone any of the details from the case file he’d been examining.
Whoever was at the door knocked again, louder this time.
“Coming!” Haru croaked. He swung his feet out of bed and nearly toppled over when he stood up. Guess I can add dizziness to my list of symptoms.
Haru stumbled to the door, the pounding in his head in sync with the pounding at his door.
“What?” he snapped, rubbing his head.
“You didn’t reply to your texts.”
Haru stared for a moment, uncertain if Daisuke really stood in front of him. He’d never seen him dressed so casually. Well, casual for Daisuke. “Dai—” he began, cutting himself off with a brief coughing fit. “I, uh, sorry. I fell asleep.”
Daisuke gave Haru a once-over, and Haru suddenly felt exposed in only a t-shirt and sweatpants. Get a grip, he’s seen you naked. This is nothing!
Except, it wasn’t nothing. Not with how vulnerable Haru felt.
“You look terrible. How are you feeling?”
Haru stepped aside to let Daisuke in. “Shitty. Really, really shitty.” He shut the door, leaning his forehead against it in an effort to ease some of his dizziness.
He felt hands on his shoulders. “You should sit down.” Haru let Daisuke guide him to the sofa, unsure of how to react. “Can I get you anything?”
“Um… no. I’m good. I think,” Haru said. He shivered, curling in on himself in an effort to warm himself up. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I have a blanket in my room—”
“Of course.”
Haru watched Daisuke disappear, feeling somewhat guilty about the interaction, even though he knew he didn’t have to. He offered to help, didn’t he?
Truth be told, Haru didn’t know how to act in this situation. He and Daisuke had a great relationship, yet the most domestic they ever got was when Haru cooked breakfast in the mornings after Daisuke stayed at his place. They hadn’t even gotten to the “I love you” stage in their relationship. Not that Haru thought about that. It’s too soon for that, right?
Daisuke interrupted his train of thought by draping the blanket around Haru’s shoulders. “Have you eaten anything today?”
Haru shook his head. “I’m not really hungry.”
“You still need to eat something. Your body won’t heal if it doesn’t have any fuel.” Haru could hear Daisuke rummaging through his cupboards. “I’ll make rice.”
Haru smiled, turning to gaze at Daisuke over the couch. “You won’t burn it?”
Daisuke shook his head. “I’m not incompetent.” He shot Haru a small smile, as if reassuring him that he wasn’t mad at him.
Of course he’s not mad. Why would he be? Haru laid down, using his arm as a pillow. “Let me know if you need help,” he mumbled.
“I will.”
Haru dozed off to the sounds of Daisuke cooking.
“Haru.”
Haru groggily opened his eyes to see Daisuke standing over him. “Hm?”
“You fell asleep. The rice is ready,” Daisuke added. He moved a hand to brush Haru’s bangs out of his eyes, but paused to press against Haru’s forehead instead. “Do you have a thermometer?”
Haru nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “It’s in here somewhere. Why?”
Daisuke moved his hand away. “You’re burning up.”
“Oh.” Haru pulled the blanket more snugly around himself. “That explains why I feel like shit.”
“What other symptoms do you have?” Daisuke had slipped into the clinical voice he reserved for cases.
“The usual. Chills, aches, dizziness, cough.”
Daisuke hummed, walking into the kitchen. He returned with two bowls of plain rice. “No appetite, either, right?”
Haru shook his head, hesitantly eyeing the rice.
“Eat as much as you can manage, then.” Daisuke nudged Haru’s feet with his knee, and Haru sat up. Well, sitting up being a generous description for propping himself up in the corner of his couch. Daisuke set the bowl on his lap. Haru grasped it with his hands, more for the warmth of the bowl than anything else.
“It looks good.”
“Thank you. I followed the instructions perfectly.” For making plain rice, Daisuke looked very pleased with himself.
Haru couldn’t bear to be heartless and not eat anything, so he picked up his chopsticks and took a minuscule bite. “Thank you, this is really good.”
As much as he didn’t want to eat, the smile on Daisuke’s face served as enough of a reward to encourage Haru to at least try.
They spent the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. Haru barely made a dent in his bowl, but Daisuke seemed pleased with how much he ate.
“I’ll reheat this later if you get your appetite back.”
Haru only nodded, leaning his head back against the couch. “Won’t you have to go back to work?”
“Chief Kiyomizu agreed that since you’re out of commission, it’s okay if I take a few days off, too.”
“Oh.” The thought that he was the reason Daisuke wasn’t at work didn’t sit right with Haru. He already felt bad enough about not getting his own share of the case files taken care of, and now he was responsible for Daisuke also not working? They could be preventing crimes, saving lives—
Daisuke’s hand was back on his forehead. “Your fever hasn’t gone down at all.”
Haru shrugged, coughing a bit. “I’ll sleep it off.”
“No, I think you should take some medicine.” Daisuke disappeared from his line of vision. Haru heard him rummage through his medicine cabinet. “Where are your fever reducers?” Daisuke called.
“Don’t have any,” Haru croaked.
Daisuke returned, looking exasperated. “I found some ibuprofen, but very little else.”
Haru blinked up at him. “What’s wrong with that?”
Daisuke narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong is that you scarcely have any medicine. No fever reducers, no fever patches, no cough medicine—” Daisuke gave the bottle of ibuprofen a shake. “ This is all you have.”
“Usually that’s all I need,” Haru said nonchalantly. “I don’t get sick often—”
“That’s not what this is about! You need to be taking care of yourself, Haru!”
Daisuke didn’t raise his voice often, and even though he had barely spoken above his normal volume, Haru felt like a child being scolded for something he didn’t fully understand. He looked away from Daisuke, not wanting the telltale sting in his eyes to be noticed. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Haru felt Daisuke sit in front of him, felt him take his head in his hands. “Hey,” he said, so gently that Haru felt like crying. Daisuke’s thumbs swiped against his cheekbones, wiping away tears that Haru couldn’t remember falling. “Hey,” Daisuke repeated, “Talk to me. What’s the matter?”
That set the waterworks on full blast. “I-I...made you mad,” Haru managed to say between hiccups. "M'sorry."
“I’m not upset, Haru, I promise. I shouldn’t have been short with you. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.” When that did little to quell Haru’s tears, Daisuke pulled him to his chest. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
“A-and you, you’re m-missing work because of me!” Haru dissolved into sobs at the thought, his overwhelming feelings of guilt and confusion combining with how physically terrible he felt, reducing him to a complete mess.
Daisuke held Haru, alternating between pressing kisses to his head and murmuring reassurances, between rubbing his back and carding a hand through his hair. He let Haru soak the shoulder of his shirt without complaint and didn’t chastise Haru for coughing on his sleeve, either.
After several minutes, Haru had all but calmed down, save for his still shaky breathing. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Daisuke said. His thumb rubbed small circles into Haru’s shoulder. “I’m here because I want to be here, taking care of you. And,” he added, “I think Modern Crimes will be fine without the two of us for a couple of days.”
Haru sniffled. “I got your shirt dirty.”
“It’s just a shirt.”
He gives a wet chuckle at that, knowing that the shirt alone probably cost as much as his monthly rent. Haru sighed, breathing in the scent of Daisuke’s cologne and allowing himself to drift away, just for a moment.
“We should really take your temperature.”
Haru cracked one eye open, and peeled himself off of Daisuke. “It’s in one of the drawers in the bathroom.”
Daisuke nodded, and returned with the cheap plastic thermometer, eyeing it suspiciously. “Is this even accurate?”
“I think so.”
Daisuke looked doubtful, but tucked the thermometer under Haru's tongue. Once it beeped, Daisuke frowned at the number. “You’re at 39.5. No wonder you feel so terrible.” He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from its spot on the coffee table. “Here,” he said, handing Haru two capsules, “I’ll get you some water.”
Haru nodded, closing his fist around the pills. 39.5 did sound pretty high, even for him. Even so, he didn’t usually get so emotional when he got sick. So why now?
The brush of a cold glass against his hand pulled him out of his dazed state. Daisuke sat beside him, the couch dipping just enough to make Haru bump shoulders with him.
“Thanks,” he murmured, downing the pills. Haru turned towards Daisuke, a small smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t expect you to be so good at playing nurse.”
Daisuke’s face remained neutral. “I don’t like seeing you feel this terrible,” he admitted. “Of course I’m going to do everything in my power to help you feel better.” He nudged Haru’s shoulder. “Speaking of, tomorrow I’m restocking your medicine cabinet. My treat.”
That earned him a laugh from Haru, which developed into a brief coughing fit. As it subsided, Haru leaned his full weight against Daisuke, resting his head on his shoulder.
Daisuke moved his hand up to play with Haru’s hair. “Would you like to move to your bed?”
It was early in the afternoon, yet Haru nodded against Daisuke’s shoulder. His mind felt hazy again, a sure sign that he needed to get some sleep. Daisuke helped him up, walking beside him in case he got hit by a dizzy spell. His hand on Haru’s shoulder was a comforting presence, and it was all Haru could think about as Daisuke guided into bed.
He blinks a few times, long and slow, and then he felt something cool on his forehead. Haru raised a hand, prodding at the damp cloth.
“It should help bring your fever down,” Daisuke explained.
Haru hummed, eyes falling shut. “Stay with me?” he mumbled.
He felt the bed dip, and then Daisuke wrapped his arms around Haru, tugging the taller man closer until Haru’s back was pressed against his chest. Haru felt Daisuke’s chest vibrate as he said “Sleep well, Haru.
Haru could feel himself relax completely. Daisuke’s body heat worked wonders combating his chills. “Thanks, ‘suke,” Haru said through a yawn. “Love you.”
Daisuke’s grip tightened, but Haru was too far gone to care. He did, however, register the firm press of a kiss planted at the base of his head, and the whispered words that would undoubtedly prompt a discussion once he was feeling better.
“I love you too, Haru.”