Work Text:
Shouto's head feels like it's on the verge of exploding. The second he blinks awake it is as though someone had smacked him across the temple with a sack of bricks. His eyes are watery and his nose is stuffy. He shifts under his sheets, shivering, and groans as he pulls them up to his chin because it's now that he realizes he's covered in sweat. He blinks and whines and curses his body, and then Inasa happens.
"Shouto!" he screams, marching into the bedroom with the force and noise of a small army. His presence is somehow brighter and warmer than the sunlight spilling through the window, though it's nowhere near as obnoxious. "You ready for our morning run? I cooked us up some breakfast!"
Leave it to Inasa to be up and ready at--Shouto blinks, half-blinded by his phone's screen--five in the morning. Shouto imagines that said breakfast would smell delicious if his nostrils weren't refusing to cooperate at the moment.
"Mmn, no," Shouto hides his face under the sheets and groans.
Inasa will not have it. He walks over to the bed and Shouto can feel his weight sinking down on the mattress, and the next thing he feels is Inasa's large hand gently resting on his shoulder, shaking him.
"Come on, Shouto! Before breakfast gets cold!"
"Nuh," Shouto sniffs, his body instinctively curling towards Inasa, like it was muscle memory letting him know where it's safe. "'M sick."
"You're sick?!" Inasa booms, pulling his hand away and marching out of the room before Shouto can even answer.
Maybe Inasa just doesn't wanna get sick as well, doesn't wanna catch whatever bug from hell has Shouto sweating and feeling like he was run over by three trucks. It's what Shouto is used to. Whenever he got sick as a kid, a doctor would walk in and take his temperature, examine him, prescribe his medicine while his father looked on disapprovingly, as though Shouto had chosen to get sick, and then he would only see his nanny when it was time for his medicine or food. Naturally, Enji never showed. Shouto would occasionally hear his heavy, pacing footsteps right outside his door as if he were impatient, or he would hear him grumbling to the doctor whenever the old guy visited again for checkups. Shouto never saw Natsuo, or even Fuyumi. He would sit in his room alone, eat alone, take his medicine alone or bear the pain of antibiotic injections with nobody to hold his hand.
So this isn't out of the ordinary. It's fine. He thinks he can sleep the worst of it off and once he can bear to stand and move he can pop a couple of pills and be on his merry way. Probably. He'll make sure to drink some water and get some food in him and he will be good as new in a couple of days.
He doesn't know how long it takes, but when he's about to doze off again, the door swings open again.
"Shouto!" Inasa says, loudly, as if there were anybody else in the room he could be calling.
Shouto frowns, peeking out from under the sheets, clearly baffled.
"I made you some tea!" Inasa marches right back in, holding a delicate little cup in his hand that frankly looks a little silly. Like a dollhouse teacup. "And I got the thermometer!"
"Huh?" Shouto blinks.
Next thing he knows, Inasa is pulling the sheets and covers off of him quickly but carefully, almost gently. He's set the cup on the bedside table and Shouto can see the steam rising from it and curling against the sunlight, but he can't smell it. Inasa sits on the edge of the bed and while Shouto is busy examining the teacup as if it were the strangest thing he's ever come across, Inasa's enormous, gentle hand brushes a lock of red hair away from his forehead. Shouto blinks twice and focuses his eyes on him. He can feel Inasa press the back of his hand to his gross, clammy forehead and he's surprised that Inasa doesn't seem bothered by the sweat at all. The frown deepens.
"What are y--"
"You're not burning up, that's good!" Inasa says, and pulls the plastic cap off the thermometer with his teeth. He looks so focused. Serious. He gently takes Shouto's arm and slips the thermometer under. He wriggles on the bed to get a little more comfortable, Shouto guesses, but nothing truly makes sense.
When Inasa smiles, Shouto's sure that this must be a fever dream. It's too good to be true. It's too strange. It's too--
"This'll help you feel better," Inasa says, and his voice is uncharacteristically quiet and devastatingly soft. He brings the cup to Shouto's lips and actually helps him steady his head so that he can take a little sip. "I didn't make it too hot, don't worry."
"Wh--"
"Shh," Inasa smiles and it's like the sun breaking through stormy clouds. "It's chamomile."
The tea is pleasantly warm on Shouto's lips, comforting in the strangest way when it soothes his throat. Inasa sweetened it with honey. Inasa is brushing stands of red and white away from his forehead, tucking the longest ones behind his ear. Inasa is cupping his face, rubbing little circles on his cheekbone. Shouto's still frowning.
"What is it, kitten? Is it too sweet?"
"No," Shouto answers, feeling like he's about to melt. Maybe he does, a little. The words get stuck in his throat for a second, turning into a little lump. There's far too many of them, all swirling around inside his head. Before he can speak any of them, Inasa takes the thermometer and takes a quick look at the little screen, and then he leans in to give Shouto the sweetest kiss he remembers ever getting.
"I think you just need to rest," Inasa says.
Shouto thinks that this must be it. Inasa will leave him to it, go on his morning run, eat his breakfast, take a shower, head outside to save the world with a smile as bright as a midday in June. Shouto can't help a little pained sound escaping him at the thought, but that's something easily pinned on his headache.
"Scooch," Inasa orders him, and he chuckles when Shouto blinks. "Don't hoard the bed, kitten, I'll let you have the covers but I need room!"
"Okay, okay," Shouto nods and speaks with the quietest voice, still half convinced that this isn't real.
It isn't until Inasa slips under the covers next to him that Shouto lets himself fall into the comfort being offered to him. Inasa is warm and safe, and Shouto instinctively curls up on his broad chest, tucks his head under his chin and wraps his arms around him. Again, a thousand words of gratefulness and disbelief and love swirl and swirl around his head. Inasa chuckles and it's music to his ears. He asks Shouto if he won't finish his tea, if he wants an aspirin. Shouto shakes his head through the bittersweet lump in his throat, squeezing Inasa tighter in his arms and pressing a kiss to Inasa's chest when he begins to stroke his back.
"Thank you," is what Shouto remembers saying before falling fast asleep.
+++
Shouto stirs awake without knowing how much time has passed, finding himself still clinging onto Inasa and babbling something while Inasa looks down at him with a wide smile.
"What are you going on about?" Inasa asks, stroking Shouto's hair.
"I won the… Bake-off show," Shouto mumbles, still blinking awake.
Inasa laughs, loud and musical as it always seems to Shouto, and he pulls him in closer to press a loud kiss to his forehead.
"Love you."