Chapter Text
Pairing: sick Iwa, caretaker Oikawa
Word Count: 2,234
Warnings: vomit, swearing, slightly ooc Iwa
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Iwaizumi leaned against the wall of the elevator lethargically. He held the strap of his bag loosely as it leaned against his leg, suddenly too heavy to keep on across his shoulder. Why in the hell he and Oikawa chose to live on the 10th floor was beyond him. He was regretting the decision as each beep of the passing floors sent sharp, stabbing pains through his skull. The prospect of his bed called to him enticingly.
It had been a terrible day.
He woke up late and ran into someone on his way to class, spilling his coffee all over his notes. Then in each one of his classes, he found out that he did the homework for the next class instead of today’s, so when he was called on, he didn’t know any of the answers and each one of his teachers scolded him for not doing the readings.
During his lab, some dude passed out when they were practicing first aid assessment on a dummy who cut open his leg. (Apparently even fake blood was too much for the guy). Which wouldn’t bother Iwa usually, but when the kid fell, he knocked over the iodine and got it all over Iwa’s arm (which was now stained brown).
Then, during his clinicals, he was observing one of the trainers with rehab for a patient who only recently recovered from her shoulder surgery enough to start physical therapy. All he needed to do was watch so he could take notes on different types of treatment plans for shoulders. He was actually pretty relieved after such a rough day.
The universe was out to screw him apparently because the pain was a bit too much for the poor girl and she ended up throwing up down Iwa’s chest.
To top it all off, when he was writing notes for one of the certified trainers a little later, black spots started popping in and out of his vision and his upper arms started tingling. Anxiety immediately settled in his chest. Of course; the only way to end such a terrible day was with a migraine. He had at most thirty minutes from the start of the tingling to get home and take his meds before it became too late.
And of course that didn’t happen.
His notes took longer to finish because of the black spots interrupting his typing and the increasing difficulty he had starting at the blue light of his computer. Then his usual train route was under construction so they took a detour.
Now, here he was, an hour later, standing in the elevator, hating his very existence as the pulsing behind his eyes increased and nausea made his stomach churn.
Finally the doors to his floor opened and he stumbled forward, fighting his vertigo towards his apartment. The hall lights blinded him.
His fingers fumbled with the keys as he leaned against the door and when he finally got the door open, he all but fell inside. He dumped his stuff messily by the door (Oikawa would yell at him later for that) and made a beeline for his bedroom.
Iwaizumi could have cried when he finally got to his room. He didn’t bother with the lights and collapsed onto his bed. His head pounded relentlessly. He curled into a ball and whimpered.
“Iwa-chan? That you?” Oikawa’s bubbly voice from the hall cut through his brain like a knife and he brought his knees even closer.
“Iwa-chan, are you okay?” his voice was closer now. He was most likely standing in the doorway, a hand placed on his cocked hip.
“Migraine,” Iwaizumi moaned. Oikawa was quiet.
“Did you take your meds?” he whispered eventually. Iwaizumi was hella grateful for their life long friendship because Oikawa dealt with this before and knew exactly how to make Iwa more comfortable. Including toning down his usual obnoxious tone.
“Too late,” Iwa responded weakly.
“Tch. That’s not true and you know it,” Oikawa chided softly. Iwaizumi heard him moving around in the room before he felt the bed dip.
“Here. They might not prevent it from happening anymore, but you know as well as I do that it might lessen the symptoms,” he heard Oikawa much closer this time. He groaned in response but sat up.
He clenched in eyes shut to fight off the dizziness before prying them open again to look at Oikawa in front of him. He was holding the water bottle from Iwaizumi’s bedside table and his migraine meds. The look on his face resembled a chastising mother.
“I don’t know if they will,” Iwa said, “the aura started over an hour ago.” He took them anyway.
“You didn’t have anything with you?” He shook his head and winced at the motion.
“What’s on your arm?!” Oikawa screeched and Iwaizumi hissed when it sent sharp pains through his skull.
“Sorry, sorry I’m sorry,” the bastard whispered.
“Just iodine,” Iwa responded and looked down at the brown stains on his arm.
“Oh.”
It was quiet again then and Iwaizumi settled back in bed.
“Wait, do you want to change?” Oikawa asked and stood up. He moved towards the dresser before waiting for a response.
“I want to sleep,” Iwa grumbled, getting increasingly more annoyed. He knew Oikawa was trying to help, but he hasn’t had a migraine this bad in a hot minute and the swirling in his stomach was only getting worse. Throwing up always made it worse, so he wanted to try and avoid that if he could.
“Sit up,” Oikawa said and Iwa would smack him if he had the energy.
“Oikawa, please,” he moaned again. He sat up anyway, his legs dangling off the side of his bed.
Oikawa pulled his shirt gently over his head and replaced it with a soft sweatshirt. It smelled like Oikawa and Iwa felt comforted despite himself. Next his jeans were pulled off almost clinically, as if he would break if Oikawa went too fast or pulled too hard.
Oikawa helped him into a pair of basketball shorts and then finally allowed him to lie down.
Iwaizumi wouldn’t ever say it out loud because it would give Oikawa too big of a head if he knew changing out of his school clothes made him feel just the slightest bit better. His jeans had been adding to the sensory overload.
“We were supposed to meet up with the guys tonight. Want me to cancel?” Oikawa asked, scratching Iwa’s head gently with perfectly manicured nails. It gave him a temporary relief from the pulsing that threatened to crush his head.
“No. You go,” he slurred, falling asleep.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” Oikawa hummed and continued running his hand through Iwa’s hair. It didn’t stop the pain, but it diminished it enough that eventually, he fell asleep.
***
Iwaizumi woke up with a strangled breath when pain exploded through his skull and down the back of his neck. He blinked a few times, staring into the dark room trying to clear his blurry vision.
This wasn’t right. No, sleep was supposed to make him feel better, but an intense pain covered his entire head. It felt like someone was squishing his brain in between their hands. Why why why.
Suddenly he was nauseatingly dizzy and he realized he was panting, depriving his already struggling brain of precious oxygen. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to calm down his breathing.
His body didn’t want to give him a break though because as soon as the world righted itself again, his stomach contents swirled sickeningly in his gut. He tried to ride out the nausea. He didn’t want to throw up. That would make the pounding worse. The more he thought about it, the more his stomach turned and he realized he was fighting a losing battle.
In a vain attempt to stay in bed, he thought to try and call Oikawa into the room only to put together that the roaring sound that was hammering nails into his skull was the shower. So he was on his own. He needed to make it to the bathroom. Needed to make it to Oikawa.
With heavy limbs, he forced himself to sit up and almost lost it. He gagged, slapping a hand over his mouth. It pounded in his skull. He swallowed it down and slowly made his way out of bed.
By the time he made it to the bathroom, he almost lost it three times and the pain in his head was unbearable. His eyes stung with tears and he pounded on the door before throwing it open and tumbling into the room. He collided with Oikawa who squawked loudly, painfully. Iwaizumi ignored him and collapsed in front of the toilet.
As soon as he moved his hand away from his mouth, he heaved once and vomit poured from his mouth. It burned the back of his throat and his chest. The torture stopped just long enough for him to catch his breath before he lurched forward with another gag and threw up again. His chest was on fire and the lights in the bathroom seared into his brain and he really just wanted everything to stop.
The sound of the lights clicking off registered through his haze somehow and he opened his eyes (when he closed them, he wasn’t sure). Then, a gentle hand was on his back.
“Oh, Iwa-chan. It’s a pretty bad one this time, huh?” Oikawa said tenderly from beside him. He turned his head slowly and found himself face to face with his best friend. He was wearing pajamas, so he must have gone to change at some point since Iwa entered the bathroom.
Oikawa smiled sympathetically and something in Iwaizumi cracked. Suddenly, the flood gates were open and he found himself launching himself into Oikawa’s chest. Thin arms wrapped around his back as he sobbed.
“It h-hurts s-so b-bad,” he weeped.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry, I wish it didn’t.” Oikawa buried his face in Iwa’s hair.
“You need to calm down though. It’s only going to make you feel worse.”
As if on cue, Iwaizumi’s stomach lurched again and he tore himself away from Oikawa’s arms to wretch once again.
The nausea and pain made him dizzy. He was having trouble keeping himself upright, but thankfully, Oikawa placed a hand on his forehead to keep him from banging it on the toilet seat.
“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Oikawa soothed as Iwa stared into the toilet. His stomach still turned dangerously but he was on the verge of collapse. The tightness in his head only got worse and he really wanted to cut his own head off. He cursed his brain for being messed up and causing him such pain.
He started heaving again, but nothing was coming up and it hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt. Make it stop make it stop make it stop.
“Hajime, breathe,” Oikawa commanded quietly, rubbing between his shoulder blades. It did nothing though. His stomach kept rolling and turning thanks to his stupid stupid head.
Finally, the back of his throat gurgled and a wet hiccup brought up bile and the rest of his lunch. He coughed and sputtered into the toilet and gasped for breath. Maybe it was over.
A minute or two after the episode ended, Oikawa spoke again.
“Ya think you’re done?” He spoke so softly and so tenderly it made Iwa’s heart soft. He nodded.
Oikawa helped him lean back against the wall and a second later, handed him some water and his toothbrush. He lazily rinsed his mouth and brushed the nastiness away before spitting in the toilet. Oikawa flushed it and turned to help him up.
Once he was standing, the pain magnified tenfold and his knees buckled.
“I think I’m gonna pass out,” he mumbled and Oikawa caught him before he could fall.
“Hey, no. Not allowed,” he said and ran a wet wash rag over Iwa’s face (where did he get that?)
“Okay,” Iwa slurred, “not this time.”
“Thank you,” Oikawa chuckled. Together, they made it back to Iwa’s bedroom. Oikawa helped him under his covers and kissed his forehead.
“My poor Iwa-chan,” he sighed and scratched at Iwa’s head again.
“Stay here?” he asked pathetically. Oikawa blinked at him.
“Of course. I’ve already called the guys and told them we weren’t coming,” he said. He walked around the side of the bed and sat against the headboard, nestled beside Iwaizumi. Iwa turned and buried himself in the setter’s stomach and immediately, Oikawa’s hand was running through his hair. He sighed contentedly. This was by far one of his favorite positions.
“Go to sleep, Iwa-chan. Hopefully your migraine will be gone in the morning.”
These migraines really knocked him out. They stripped him of his usual personality and left him a sniveling, pathetic, clingy, mess. But he was a mess Oikawa was familiar with and Iwaizumi was eternally grateful for that. Oikawa knew what he meant when he couldn’t use as many words as he’d like. He knew how to make him comfortable, what foods he could tolerate and how to comfort him. There was no one else that Iwaizumi would ever want around when he got migraines. Hell, there was no one else Iwaizumi wanted around at all. As long as Oikawa was there, he’d be fine