Archive of Our Own

Ushijima has broken Tendou’s heart again.

Would he ever be able to forgive him this time? Once again his own poor decision making has caused endless pain to the man he loves.

Well, perhaps that’s a little dramatic. But it’s certainly how things feel right now.

To summarize: Ushijima Wakatoshi has the flu.

The nastiest, most poorly timed flu in all of human existence.

He had been planning to fly out to Paris to spend Valentine’s day with Tendou. He’d even gotten passes for Disneyland and made reservations at a really nice resort where he could spend the entire several day trip either at the park or in bed with his boyfriend.

And then he got the flu.

Waking up with a high fever the morning before he was set to fly out had definitely not been in his itinerary.

Tendou insisted he stay in Japan when Ushijima called him with the unfortunate news. The chocolatier kept reminding him that he shouldn’t blame himself, that either one of them could have ended up sick. They got to see each other a couple months ago for Christmas, and Ushijima would be flying to Paris at the end of the volleyball season to spend two whole weeks with Tendou.

They can just do a video call when Ushijima is feeling better. Tendou’s tone had been teasing, implying some fun during said video call.

But only if Ushijima lets himself rest and recover from the flu currently ruining his life.

So that’s what he’s doing right now: lying in bed and miserably sweating through another set of sheets.

Tendou had ratted him out to his captain and he’s been banned from even going to watch them practice and the utter boredom of it all is somehow more exhausting than the flu that’s causing it. This is day three and it’s definitely the worst one by far.

His temperature had been 102.1 this morning when he’d taken it and he’s too tired to attempt taking it a second time to see if it’s improved at all with the medication. Hoshiumi had promised to bring something by for him to eat later in the day but other than that, Ushijima is on his own.

And it’s terrible.

He hasn’t had the flu since he was a child but he’s been working himself extra hard lately to start preparing for the 2024 Olympics, as well as the division championship. Is it really that bad for Ushijima to want to be the best?

His best is what Tendou is attracted to. Ushijima Wakatoshi, the indomitable star volleyball ace, poster boy for men’s pro volleyball in Japan, and cover model for January’s edition of Volleyball Monthly.

Tendou had teased him relentlessly about the oil they used to make the muscles in his chest and abdomen glisten like he’d been working up a sweat, but Ushijima knows he has that magazine framed on his wall next to the Olympics jersey.

It makes Ushijima feel good knowing that Tendou finds him attractive.

Which is why he’s been avoiding Tendou’s requests for a video chat since he got sick, even though he really misses him. He wants to see Tendou but he does not want Tendou to see him. Not like this at least; greasy and sweaty, with deep shadows under his eyes and his hair plastered in strings to his head. He’d taken a cold shower just that morning and now you can hardly tell.

The flu medication he’s taking makes him even more exhausted than he already is with the fever and mostly Ushijima has just been sleeping the past several days. It’s easier to forget the disappointment of knowing he could be sweating in a bed 6,000 miles away from this one for an entirely different reason if he’d just remembered to get his flu shot.

He’s in the middle of clumsily drinking from his water bottle without sitting up when he hears the front door of his apartment open and close unexpectedly. It feels too early for it to be Hoshiumi with lunch, so it must be either one of the coaches or Hirugami come to make sure he hasn’t drowned in his own filth.

Ushijima sighs and folds his arms over his eyes, feeling the sickly heat radiating off his own skin and hating it profusely. Why does his body always seem to betray him at the worst possible moments?

“I’m still alive,” he hums absently when the bedroom door clicks open. There’s a pause when whoever it is hesitates in the door frame, then the soft sound of stockinged feet across the hardwood as they approach Ushijima’s bed.

“You really shouldn’t get too close or you might get-”

Ushijima drops his arms and turns his head to look at the visitor, losing all train of thought mid sentence when he doesn’t see Hirugami, or the coach, or Hoshiumi, or Kageyama or anyone else on planet earth who would make sense to be staring down at him right now. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head in an attempt to dispel the specter, only to regret it immediately when it makes him instantly dizzy.

When he opens them again Tendou is still there, sitting on the bed beside him and reaching out to brush cool fingers against the furnace of his forehead. Ushijima can’t help but lean up into his touch, craving both the cold and the skin contact in equal, vivid amounts.

“Am I hallucinating?” he asks in a rough rasp and Tendou snorts, petting his sweaty bangs back from where they’d plastered themselves to his forehead.

“Possibly. But not about me, if that’s what you mean,” he teases and Ushijima positively melts when those chilly fingers curl around his overheated face.

Tendou strokes his cheek, then tuts when he feels the fever radiating from Ushijima.

The hand withdraws and Ushijima can’t help the faint whine that tears itself from his throat, utterly embarrassed when Tendou outright laughs at him. The redhead retrieves a box of fever patches and more flu medicine from the bag he’d brought into the room with him and Ushijima relaxes again when a cool palm is resting against his forehead once more.

“Who knew the great Ushijima Wakatoshi would be so cute when he’s sick,” Tendou snickers and Ushijima pointedly ignores him in favor of pressing up against his icy fingers. Go figures even a hallucinated Tendou would still tease Ushijima just as much as the real one.

He drifts for a bit while Tendou studies the back of the medication box, allowing himself to be soothed by his touch.

“I think you should probably take a shower while I make you something to eat.”

Tendou’s voice sounds hazy and far away and Ushijima grunts, opening bleary eyes to stare up at the redhead. His expression is still amused, but the hand stroking Ushijima’s hair is gentle and very, very distracting.

Ushijima feels fuzzy and disoriented, but Tendou is there to help him sit up and finally climb to his feet, albeit clumsily. He’s left alone when he gets to the bathroom though and Ushijima blinks at his faucet, wondering when exactly the Japanese lettering had been switched out for something completely alien.

His fever may, perhaps, be a little bit worse than he thought.

Tendou clicks the rice cooker on and then pauses, considering the stove top for a moment before he finds the knob for the burner. He hasn’t heard from Ushijima in a while and the flu medications he’s been taking seem to be kicking his ass something fierce. It’s so weird seeing him sick at all, really. He’d always been such a paragon of perfect health when they were in high school but Tendou supposes even the mighty must fall now and then.

He pours the can of broth into a pot and sets it on the stove to warm it up, then figures he should probably go double check that he hasn’t accidentally let his boyfriend drown in the bathtub. People might get a little mad at him if Schweiden Adlers #11 wing spiker Ushijima Wakatoshi dies on his watch.

“Wakatoshi-kun?” he calls in a singsong voice, wandering down the hallway and towards the bathroom. He’s only ever seen glimpses of Ushijima’s living room and bedroom in their video chats, but the apartment as a whole is pretty much exactly what he expected.

Tidy. Sparsely furnished. Functional, if a little clinical. He is fond of the framed picture of himself and Ushijima on the coffee table though. Ushijima isn’t one for knick knacks or decorations and that one little photo really stands out.

Tendou likes being the exception to all his rules.

“Wakatoshi?”

He has to cover his mouth to stop a sharp giggle from bursting out of him when he enters the bathroom. Should he take a picture? Would anyone ever believe him if he didn’t?

Ushijima is sitting in the bathtub with his pajama pants still on, the shower spraying at his chest as he stares vacantly at the far wall. He looks stoned out of his mind and Tendou doesn’t know whether to laugh or coo because it’s just-

It’s unusual for the normally cool headed, in control at all times Ushijima Wakatoshi to look like his brain has actually melted into mush.

“You need a little help?” Tendou teases, biting the inside of his cheek when Ushijima blinks and then looks vaguely in his direction.

“Huh?”

Tendou really doesn’t want to laugh at his boyfriend when he looks so pathetic but he is making it so, so hard.

“Need me to wash your hair, baby?” he asks again, softer this time. Neither of them really use pet names all that often, but this kind of situation seems to call for a little tenderness. Ushijima hums faintly and then nods, tipping his head back to lean against the tile wall once more.

It’s a challenge to remove his soaking wet sweatpants and the way Ushijima has gone boneless makes it even more difficult, but Tendou finally manages to get them and the shower off, and the bathtub filled with lukewarm water.

“Close your eyes for me, ‘kay?” Tendou hums, carefully tipping Ushijima back so his hair can slip below the water. He’s surprised to see an athlete like Ushijima actually has shampoo and conditioner in his shower, and he doesn’t suppress his snort of laughter this time when he recognizes the brand.

“You bought the kind I use? That’s so sappy, ‘Toshi.”

Ushijima makes a vague, sleepy noise but doesn’t respond, head dropping against Tendou’s shoulder. The idea that his boyfriend goes out into the world every single day smelling like Tendou is… Well it’s something that’s for sure.

He’s pliant as Tendou starts to scrub the shampoo into his brunette locks and the smell of artificial strawberries fills the room. It’s kind of nice, being able to take care of him like this, and Tendou is glad he ended up taking the last minute flight out of Paris to come see him.

The few days after Valentine’s are always slow so Cami had practically beaten him out the door with a broom and told him not to come back until Ushijima had recovered. He’s pretty sure she’s just sick of seeing him mope about how much he misses his boyfriend.

The golden band on his finger glints in the overhead light and Tendou smiles privately to himself, cupping Ushijima’s cheek and stroking his thumb across the high arch of his brow.

“Feeling any better, ‘Toshi?” he murmurs, suppressing a whine when Ushijima sleepily nuzzles his face into Tendou’s palm. He’s so cute when he’s needy and drugged to the gills. If it weren’t for the fact he knows Ushijima probably feels pretty lousy, he wouldn’t mind getting to baby him like this more often.

He doesn’t get an answer but Ushijima doesn’t complain when he conditions his hair, sinking obediently back into the water to have it washed out. The wing spiker looks totally blissed out at the scalp massage he inadvertently gets from this, slack jawed and flush from the fever. Tendou lets him float in the water for a little longer than is strictly necessary just so he can watch his sleepy, relaxed face. When was the last time he got to see Ushijima look so peaceful and carefree?

Tendou leans over him to press a soft kiss to his temple, gently stroking his fingers through Ushijima’s wet hair. The volleyball player makes a soft noise in his throat and nudges himself up into the kiss and Tendou feels his heart throb miserably in his chest. How had he ever survived all those years without this? Without him? It had only been a few months ago that Tendou believed he would never see Ushijima Wakatoshi ever again but now he can’t fathom a life that doesn’t have Ushijima in it.

It’s a little difficult getting Ushijima out of the bathtub since he’s essentially 200 pounds of goo at this point, but Tendou sits him down on the toilet and grins when he remembers the last time he had done this for him. He ignores his soaked sleeves in favor of scrubbing the excess water from Ushijima’s hair with a fluffy towel, humming faintly while Ushijima just drifts.

And if Tendou thought he was cute before nothing really compares to how he looks as Tendou turns the hair dryer on low and starts to finger comb through his damp brown hair. Olive eyes flutter shut and when he tips his head into Tendou’s touch Tendou nearly has to physically restrain himself from cooing at the poor guy.

“You’re so good for me,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to his feverish forehead. “Do you think you can shave by yourself or do you need me to help?”

Ushijima stares blankly at him as if he’d just asked him to solve a complicated algebra problem and Tendou takes that as a sign he probably needs a little assistance. He shakes his head amusedly and sets the blow dryer aside, rummaging through the drawers beneath the sink until he uncovers a razor and a can of shaving cream.

Based on the length of the stubble darkening his cheeks Tendou guesses he probably hasn’t had the energy or willpower to shave for at least a couple days. Likely a good thing too based on how badly his hands are shaking, clasped loosely together on his lap while he patiently waits for Tendou to do whatever he wants.

Tendou doesn’t really grow facial hair himself so he’s not all that experienced with shaving, but he knows enough that he can help his struggling boyfriend out at least.

“Close your eyes and tip your head back for me, okay? Try to keep still so I don’t accidentally cut you,” he murmurs, spraying some of the cream on his palm and wrinkling his nose at the strong smell.

Ushijima is pliant and obedient while Tendou smears it all over his cheeks and chin, not even batting an eye as Tendou teasingly puts a dollop on the end of his nose. He really is just that out of it.

And it feels so oddly intimate when Tendou puts the razor against Ushijima’s skin. His boyfriend doesn’t so much as twitch, completely vulnerable and trusting beneath Tendou’s hands, and it’s- overwhelming? Is that the right word? Ushijima suddenly twitches and almost falls over and Tendou realizes the poor thing almost fell fast asleep right there on the toilet.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, cradling the back of Ushijima’s head in one broad palm and carefully slotting himself between his knees so he can guide him to lean forward against his chest. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Ushijima makes a faint noise in the back of his throat and Tendou can’t help the soft, fond smile that spreads across his face.

He’s more cautious when he starts to shave him again, focusing on keeping the exhausted athlete upright while he strokes the blades over his face. There’s shaving cream all over the front of his shirt now but he hardly notices, nor does he care. Not when Ushijima is so relaxed and soft beneath his fingertips.

Despite his lack of experience in this particular department he decides he hasn’t done a half bad job when he towels off the remaining shaving cream and finds only a few small spots where he missed a few whiskers of hair. He sets the razor aside on the sink to clean later and retrieves a small bottle of moisturizer from one of the drawers, rubbing it between his palms to warm it before gently smoothing it over the freshly shaved skin.

“How are we doing, sleepy man?” he teases softly, cupping Ushijima’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs in small, soothing circles over his now mostly smooth cheeks. Olive eyes blink blearily up at him and Ushijima grunts softly, curling his arms around Tendou’s waist and leaning into his body.

He’s so loopy and adorable Tendou might actually cry when this is all over if he’s been honest.

They can’t stay like this forever though and Tendou finally sighs and drops his hands, sliding his arm beneath Ushijima’s shoulder and lifting him onto his feet.

“Alright then, you big baby. Let’s put some clean clothes on you and some food in you so you can go back to sleep.”

It takes some trying but Tendou gets a fresh pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on him with only minimal struggling. Ushijima is about as helpful as a squid, but at least he’s a pretty cute squid in Tendou’s fairly unbiased opinion.

Thankfully the stove had been on the lowest setting when Tendou left it and the broth is only just starting to come to a boil when he finally has Ushijima seated on the couch. He turns it off so it can cool back down and takes the opportunity to throw Ushijima’s filthy clothes and sweat soaked bedsheets into the washer, remaking the bed with fresh ones from his closet.

Ushijima is right where Tendou left him when he finally joins him on the couch with bowls of broth and rice, leaning back against the couch and staring at the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

Tendou sticks a fever patch to his forehead and then sits down beside him, carefully guiding the tired giant to sink slowly onto his side until his head is pillowed on the redhead’s lap.

“I need you to eat before I can give you more medicine and let you sleep, baby,” he hums softly, stroking Ushijima’s hair back from his flushed face. “Can you do that for me?”

Ushijima nods vaguely and Tendou smiles, plucking out a small handful of rice and forming bite sized lumps out of it. He ends up turning on the tv just for background noise and absently watches last night’s Green Rockets game while he feeds Ushijima one piece at a time. The broth is a little more challenging at this angle, but Ushijima manages not to make a mess of himself as he accepts spoonful after spoonful without a fuss.

Tendou makes him sit up just long enough to take a dose of the medications he’d picked up on the way here from the airport; one to bring the fever down and another to help him sleep for a while. He kind of wants Ushijima to go back to bed but the way he’s nuzzling into Tendou’s shoulder suggests it’s probably unlikely he’ll be willing to move anytime soon.

So he decides to cut his losses and carefully lays down on the couch himself, allowing Ushijima to lie on top of him and smush his face into Tendou’s chest. Ridiculously strong arms wrap around his waist and Tendou resigns himself to becoming his teddy bear, reaching up to scratch his fingernails soothingly against Ushijima’s scalp.

“Nap for a while, Wakatoshi. I’ll wake you up when you need to take more medicine,” he purrs, feeling his heart leap a little when Ushijima peers groggily up from where he’s burrowed into him. He’s got a crease on his cheek from lying on Tendou’s pants and his face is puffy with exhaustion, eyes hooded and dazed. He looks so adorable and soft and vulnerable and Tendou wants to scream, but that would defeat the whole purpose.

His self control is tested though when, without warning, Ushijima plants his face back down onto Tendou’s chest.

Tendou massages his fingertips into the sensitive spot behind Ushijima’s ear and tips his head so he can continue to watch the game, pleased when he’s just in time to watch Goshiki spike the ball into Sakusa’s face.

“Our kouhai’s grown into a man, Wakatoshi-kun,” he murmurs absently, not expecting a reply from the already unconscious brunette. Tendou is vaguely reminded of another time and place not that long ago, when he’d lovingly tended to a wounded elephant named Ushijima and had cradled him close his chest just like he’s doing now.

He feels his own eyelids growing heavy and he lets them slip shut, continuing to stroke his fingers through Ushijima’s hair. A short nap won’t hurt and it’s not like there’s anything else to do while Ushijima is lying on top of him anyways.

Tendou is in the middle of vacuuming Ushijima’s apartment when the front door swings open without warning, displaying a medium build, white haired man that he recognizes as one of Ushijima’s current teammates.

Hoshiumi looks about as surprised to see Tendou as Tendou is to see Hoshiumi, and the two of them stare blankly at one another for a long, awkward moment before Hoshiumi shrugs and steps inside the apartment.

“I gather he hasn’t drowned in a pool of his own sweat, then?” the younger asks, striding towards the kitchen and dropping the bag he’d brought onto the counter top. Tendou snorts and turns the vacuum off, wiping his palms on his jeans before he goes to greet him more properly.

“I think he’ll live to see another day,” Tendou teases, surprised when he sees how much Hoshiumi had brought with him. There’s a container of what looks like homemade soup, along with some pre cooked rice and a few bottles of ginger tea. There’s more medicine and fever patches too, which is good because Tendou definitely hadn’t gotten enough and he’s somewhat unwilling to leave Ushijima alone right now.

“Romero’s wife made the soup and rice. She’s usually a good cook so I’m sure it should taste just fine.”

His tone is a bit blunt but Tendou doesn’t imagine he intends to sound harsh and decides not to hold it against him.

“Please give them both my gratitude,” Tendou replies, cocking his head to the side and offering the white haired man a sly grin.

“And thank you for coming to see him. I’m glad to know he would have been in good hands if I hadn’t decided to fly out.”

Hoshiumi’s face flushes a bit and he shrugs, looking down at the paper bag in his hands.

“Whatever. We’re a stronger team with Ushijima on it so it would be stupid not to want him to recover quickly,” he grumbles, sounding pained. Tendou’s smile doesn’t dim in the least and he beams at the smaller man, patting a hand on top of the soup container before he takes it to put in the fridge with the rice.

He’s rearranging the other containers of leftover broth from lunch when Hoshiumi makes a contemplative sound from behind him, catching his attention.

“Where is he, anyways? Is he asleep?”

Tendou snorts out a laugh and closes the fridge with a snap, moving towards the sink so he can start on the dishes he’d left there earlier.

“Oh, he’s in the bedroom. Sulking, I’m pretty sure,” he chuckles, looking sideways at Hoshiumi and entertained by the confusion on his face. He turns on the water and waits for it to get warm, retrieving the dish soap and a fresh sponge from a nearby cabinet.

“He found out I’m more or less engaged and it upset him greatly.”

Hoshiumi pauses, considering what he said, and Tendou watches his eyebrows furrow deep with consternation.

“Haaaah?” he barks, squinting at Tendou as if he thinks he’s playing a prank on him.

“Aren’t you engaged to him?” Hoshiumu demands and Tendou shrugs, starting to scrub at the dirty silverware with an amused expression.

“I sure am, Korai-kun. I sure am.”

As if summoned by magic, Ushijima suddenly reappears from the bedroom and his uncharacteristically wide, wild eyes make it clear he’s had some kind of revelation. He barely even glances at Hoshiumi, who seems utterly horrified to see his teammate in nothing but his boxer shorts and looking so entirely out of sorts that it’s almost comical.

“It’s me,” Ushijima declares, pointing to himself like an eager child asking for a turn on the swings. “I’m the fiancé?”

Tendou sighs and shuts off the water, turning towards his boyfriend and reaching out to rest the back of his hand against his forehead. The fever patch must have fallen off because it’s missing and the skin beneath his touch is like a furnace, leaving Ushijima red faced and sweaty again.

“I told you to stop taking off your clothes, Wakatoshi,” he scolds and reaches for the things Hoshiumi had brought. He dries Ushijima’s forehead with his sleeve, pointedly ignoring the gagging noise from Hoshiumi somewhere behind them, and slaps a fresh fever patch on, rolling his eyes when Ushijima just continues to beam at him.

Pushing the brunette down to sit in one of the chairs at his kitchen table, he cracks open one of the teas his teammate had brought and offers it to him with a fresh dose of flu medication. Ushijima doesn’t take it from him but instead just sits there and opens his mouth, glassy gaze fixated on Tendou’s face.

It’s at this point that Hoshiumi has decided he’s seen enough because he slaps his hand on the counter, waving at the pair of them when Tendou glances his way.

“You’ve clearly got this under control, so I’m just gonna go,” the white haired spiker announces, taking a step back and away even as Tendou offers him a winning smile.

“Thank you for the food and medicine, Korai-kun! I’ll make sure he knows you visited when he’s a little more lucid,” he teases, just to see Hoshiumi grimace. Then he returns to Ushijima, who has been waiting patiently with his mouth open this entire time. He reminds Tendou of a baby bird and it’s-

It’s so fucking cute.

“You know, it’s a pity you’re not usually this needy. I kind of like getting to take care of you,” he teases, popping the pill into his boyfriend’s mouth and carefully tipping the tea up so he can drink it slowly, hoping the ginger might help settle any queasiness in his stomach. He hasn’t vomited yet as far as Tendou is aware and he’s hoping it’ll stay that way if he’s consistent with keeping Ushijima fed, hydrated, and medicated.

Ushijima wraps his arms around Tendou’s waist and buries his face against his stomach once he’s finished with the tea, threatening to dislodge the new patch with how he rubs back and forth into his shirt. Tendou sighs softly and gets him to tip his head back, cupping his palms against his warm, ruddy cheeks and stroking his thumbs gently across the overheated skin.

“I’m sorry you feel so lousy, baby. You should go back to bed and try to get some more sleep,” he murmurs softly, offering him a soothing smile. Ushijima pouts faintly and Tendou has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cooing at him.

“Will you come too?” the wing spiker asks and Tendou supposes it wouldn’t hurt to lie down with him for a while. It isn’t like the dishes and vacuuming won’t be there for him to do later on, and the sheets should be ready to come out of the dryer now.

“Yeah, okay,” he chuckles, stepping back to give Ushijima space to stand back up. He’s a little more oriented than earlier at least thanks to the medication and he doesn’t need Tendou’s help finding his way back into the bedroom. Tendou leaves him there with strict instructions to put his sweatpants back on before he goes to retrieve the clean bedding, pleased to see Ushijima has done as he was told when he returns.

It’s a bit of a challenge getting Ushijima’s large bed put back together on his own, but he figures he’s going to be washing it again in the not too distant future so it really doesn’t have to be too pretty. They’re still warm when Tendou shucks off his jeans and slides beneath them, laughing when Ushijima doesn’t hesitate to climb in beside him and immediately wrap himself around Tendou like the squid he has apparently become.

Still a very cute squid though.

He curls his arms around his poor, sick boyfriend and drops a kiss to the crown of his head, stroking his fingers idly up and down the length of his spine. Tired but not feeling like sleeping just yet, Tendou retrieves his phone from the bedside table and flicks it open.

There isn’t much going on. He has a few messages from Cami just to let him know everything is fine with the shop and asking how Ushijima is feeling. Tendou chuckles inwardly and opens the camera to snap a few photos of Ushijima drooling into his chest, then fires one off to her with a dog face filter on Ushijima’s face and a winking kissy face emoji in the body of the text.

She sends back a single eye roll emoji and tells him to stop bullying his sweet, sick boyfriend.

He ignores that in favor of taking more photos from different angles. Ushijima is probably going to live to be a hundred and twenty and Tendou wouldn’t be surprised if this were the last flu virus that ever dared touch his otherwise pristine and godlike body. He has to milk this sleepy mushy softness for every last drop while he has the chance.

Ushijima mumbles something in his sleep and Tendou stifles a chuckle, putting his phone down and focusing instead on stroking his fingers through Ushijima’s sweat damp hair. The tension between his eyebrows eases again and he turns his face into Tendou’s chest, skin hot and feverish even through the layer of Tendou’s shirt.

Hopefully he’ll feel better soon but at least Tendou gets to care for him until he does.

Ushijima wakes up two days later to an empty bed and a faint, pulsing headache at the back of his skull. His clothes are plastered to his sweaty skin and the bedsheets feel gross and damp beneath him, but Ushijima himself feels blessedly cool for the first time all week.

He’s also finally lucid and he’s endlessly grateful for that, though he still feels shaky and off balance when he sits up. He spies a bottle of water on the bedside table and takes a moment to rehydrate, wondering vaguely if Hoshiumi had left it there for him. The last couple days are somewhat of a mess in his mind.

He remembers gentle fingers in his hair and a calm, soothing voice in his ear telling Ushijima he’s going to take care of him.

Puzzling over this while he makes his way down the hall to the bathroom, Ushijima shucks his clothes off into a pile and carefully steps into the shower for a much needed wash. It’s a relief to finally be able to rinse the sweat from his body and know he’s finally done with this awful flu.

He hopes Tendou isn’t too upset that they didn’t get to see each other. Maybe Ushijima can make it up to him when his birthday comes around.

Ushijima winces when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror once he climbs out of the shower. There are dark shadows under his eyes and a day’s worth of scruff on his pale, tired face and that begs another question: who helped him shave since the last time he remembers shaving himself?

Debating whether he should call Hoshiumi, Ushijima wraps a towel around his waist and wanders idly towards the kitchen. He hopes there’s still some kind of leftovers in the fridge because he’s absolutely starved, not even noticing the smell of cooking food growing stronger as he approaches.

And then he sees Tendou standing at his stove, humming along to a song playing from his phone that Ushijima vaguely recognizes as being Semi’s latest single, and every embarrassing, miserable, horrible second of the last several days rushes back into his brain in a single, heart stopping whoosh.

Tendou notices him in the entryway and turns to smile at him, red-brown eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that only seems to happen when Tendou is feeling especially fond. He sets the spoon he’d just been using to stir whatever is in the pot behind him on the counter and turns off the music, looking pleased as punch to see Ushijima on his feet.

“Feeling better, Wakatoshi-kun?” he asks, not bothering to wait for him to answer before he’s suddenly in his face, pressing his forehead against Ushijima’s to gauge his temperature.

“The fever’s gone at least,” the chocolatier muses, pulling back enough so he can study Ushijima’s face, tutting over the shadows and the scruff.

“I’ll help you shave again once you eat something. I’m sure you’re dehydrated and you shouldn’t be putting a razor to your skin if you can’t hold it steady.”

Ushijima feels a bit like he’s been caught up in a tornado, wordlessly sitting at the table in all his nearly nearly naked glory when Tendou guides him into a chair. There’s a mug of tea placed before him and more water, which Ushijima greedily sucks down. He hadn’t realized just how parched he still felt until Tendou had said something.

Despite his regained memories he still has more questions than answers, though. Mostly he wants to know if it’s possible to travel back in time and tell a convincing enough lie to Tendou about why he can’t go to Paris that would prevent the redhead from coming to Japan.

“I made some okayu for you. My own recipe, with egg and mushroom. If you can keep that down then I can make some hayashi rice for dinner,” Tendou is saying, setting a steaming bowl of rice porridge down in front of him with a spoon. He settles into the chair beside him with his own bowl and offers him another smile, but this time Ushijima doesn’t fail to notice the shadows under his own eyes and the drawn, exhausted tension in his jaw.

Tendou has probably run himself ragged caring for Ushijima, on top of having no chance to adjust to the time difference. It’s the middle of the night in Paris and yet here he is, taking care of him and still looking like he’s happy to be doing it.

“I’m sorry, Satori,” Ushijima sighs, staring down at his porridge with guilt gnawing at his empty stomach. Tendou seems surprised by the apology, pursing his lips and cocking his head at him.

“For what?”

Ushijima looks back at him, uncertain about how genuine Tendou’s reaction is, as if he really doesn’t understand what Ushijima could be apologizing for.

“For all of this. For ruining Valentine’s Day. You came all this way and then ended up having to care for me like a child. I’m embarrassed about how I behaved and I’m sorry I put you through that,” he prompts, brows furrowing. Tendou just looks confused again, then snorts and stands up.

Ushijima doesn’t react when Tendou slides onto his lap and straddles him, slender arms curling around Ushijima’s shoulders so he can’t run away.

“Now you listen to me, Ushijima Wakatoshi,” the redhead murmurs, somehow managing to sound stern and soft all at the same time. Ushijima reflexively wraps his arms around Tendou’s narrow waist and waits, wondering what exactly he’s about to be chewed out for.

“I knew what I was signing up for the moment I decided to come. There is not one thing that I did this week that I didn’t want to do, or that I regret doing. I came to take care of you because I love you and that’s what you’re supposed to do for someone you love, right?”

Ushijima frowns but Tendou isn’t done yet, the redhead’s body straightening on his lap as he really gets going with his lecture.

“And if that means I have to help you shave, or wash your hair, or brush your teeth, or dress you or feed you or anything else then yeah. I was going to do it. I did do it. And I’ll do it again the next time you get sick, and the time after that, and the time after that, if there’s ever another virus brave enough to try. And you wanna know why that is?”

He nods, feeling his chest tighten with everything Tendou is saying. It isn’t that either of them are shy about their feelings with one another, but hearing this all at once from the other man is something Ushijima hadn’t expected.

Tendou holds up his hand and shows him the ring. The slim golden band Ushijima had given him only a few months ago at Christmas.

Warmth spreads through him like the rice porridge Tendou had made him, slow and sweet and tender. He’s still wearing it.

“This means forever, Wakatoshi-kun. ‘In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part’, and I don’t care that we aren’t married yet. I don’t care that we aren’t even technically, officially engaged. What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. And that includes all the bad times. It especially includes all the bad times. I’m your Valentine for the next 100 years and it’s not the end of the world if we miss this one. So instead of saying sorry you should be thanking me and telling me that you love me.” Tendou’s voice is firm and leaves no room for argument, so Ushijima doesn’t argue.

What else is he supposed to do when Tendou is reciting wedding vows to him?

Ushijima chuckles softly, mouth curving into a faint smile. It’s hard to find a flaw with his logic and he’s absolutely taking this as explicit permission to show up on Tendou’s doorstep the next time he catches a cold.

“I love you, Satori. Thank you for taking such good care of me. I definitely would have been much worse off without you here to look after me,” he hums, tipping his head down to press his face against Tendou’s chest. He smells like him after being here for so many days and he drinks it in, shivering when the redhead strokes his fingers through his hair.

He eats every bite of okayu and when night falls and he’s pressed up against Satori’s back at the stove, arms wrapped loosely around his waist while his boyfriend cooks the meat for the promised hayashi rice, Ushijima thinks maybe this isn’t so terrible after all.