Work Text:
"Here, Satan." He looked up instantly as the familiar voice reached his ears, tearing his eyes away from the volleyball game on the screen in front of him for a few moments. A steaming mug was being offered to him, the liquid that it held emitting a rich, sweet aroma. He recognised it immediately, and gratefully took the offered beverage from his boyfriend. Thanks to Suga working in the cafe, the silver-haired man had had a lot of practice at creating the perfect hot chocolate, that had quickly became Oikawa’s favourite drink alongside coffee (not black).
Suga sat down beside him, taking up the rest of the couch as he stretched out before then laying his head on Oikawa’s lap. For a few moments Oikawa smiled down at Suga with the small smile that had begun to develop into probably the most genuine he has in his arsenal (when it comes to smiles and grins, he can be deadly). He doesn’t see the smile that he directs only towards Suga whenever he uses it. He doesn’t see how much it conveys, how much raw emotion is expressed in what seems to him to be a simple expression. But it’s Suga’s smile. Suga is the only one who gets to witness it and Oikawa makes certain of it.
But Suga had a smile of his own that he returned Oikawa’s with, and, like Oikawa’s smile for him, the one he gave his boyfriend then was shown to no one else. It’s a gentler expression, calm and peaceful, but it makes his eyes crinkle up at the corners as his warm brown eyes light up. Unbeknownst to the both of them, however, Iwaizumi has witnessed those smiles a few times, but eventually just gave up with a snort of disgust as he stalked away, unable to understand why they were just standing there, smiling at each other.
Oikawa had a volleyball game coming up. He’d risen through the ranks of his universities volleyball team, growing in popularity and skill to add to what he already has in both of those categories. With ease he became the setter, and now he’d reverted back to his old high school habits of watching previous games that had been filmed, studying them for as long as he can. But now, he’s torn between what he should give his undivided attention to - Suga, or the game? He hummed under his breath and took a sip of his drink, sighing in contentment as the smooth, sweet taste flooded over his tongue.
But with a great effort he tore his eyes away from Suga’s face and began to focus on the screen again.
"Iwaizumi was right when he said you look like Satan when you do this." Suga commented idly, reaching up to poke his face. His hands were cold, as usual, but even the slight touch was icy against his cheek. "I can almost imagine you on the court in a few days, getting ready to burn them all. I feel sorry for the other team."
"And your point is?"
"You’re lucky that Iwaizumi and his baseball bat aren’t here right now."
—-
"G’morning, Kou." Oikawa mumbled, blinking blearily. To Suga’s insistence he’d gone to sleep a lot earlier than he would have done so otherwise, but he wasn’t typically a morning person. That was Suga, who rose with the sun, and unfortunately had some pretty evil ways of getting him up (one time Suga had put ice in his mouth and down his shirt). Usually he wouldn’t expect his boyfriend to return the greeting, but suddenly he realises that he’s still holding Suga’s hands. Suga’s hands get cold easily, and it’s rare for them to hold even a warm temperature on their own. After learning of this, Oikawa took every opportunity to hold Suga’s hands, warming them with his own hands that are usually warm.
Now, whenever he goes to sleep, he makes sure he falls asleep with Suga’s ice-cold hands entwined with his own. His general body heat seems to be what Suga lacks, and often the silver-haired young man will curl up to him or slip inside his jacket simply to get warm. But it’s simple, really. Oikawa Tooru is the cure for the cold he feels.
Suga had often considered making a pun out of that, one containing Oikawa being from the very pits of Hell, but he never wants to ruin the moment.
But what else is out of the ordinary along with actually getting to wake up next to Suga is that the cafe employee’s hands shaking slightly, and Suga was warm…so warm…'Wait.' Oikawa woke up properly then. Suga’s hands were too hot in his, sweaty and uncomfortably warm. He looked over at his boyfriend and winced to see Suga pale and obviously unwell. “Hey, Suga-chan.” He whispered, gently smoothing those soft silver locks back from Suga’s forehead. There’s no response. “Koushi, how is the King of Hell awake before you?”
There was a groan in response, and Suga’s eyes slowly flickered open, resting upon Oikawa’s face for a few moments before recognition dawned in them and he seemed to come to his senses.
"What’s the time, Satan?" He rasped, and Oikawa’s smile twisted as he desperately tried to keep it there.
"Probably like…10 something." There was another morose groan at his reply and Suga began to curl up into a ball.
"I should get ready for work." Suga mumbled, turning onto his side with obvious difficulty. Oikawa sighed and curled his arms around Suga’s waist and pulled him close, burying his face in Suga’s shoulder. It hadn’t really registered with his sleep-riddled brain that he could get sick too. Oh well. He still didn’t really get to cuddle with Suga unless they watched horror movies.
"You’re not going to work." Oikawa told him firmly. "You’re sick, and I have the day off. So, I’m going to look after you!" Suga tried to protest several times, but to no avail. Oikawa would have none of it. An hour and three coffees later Oikawa was wide awake and ready for the day. When he’d called the cafe that Suga worked at to tell them his boyfriend was sick, he’d exchanged idle chitchat with a few of the employees, all of whom offered ‘get well’s to be passed on to Suga. Daichi, the manager, and Asahi, another employee, were both close friends with Suga, and by now knew him well. But now he was stuck downstairs in the kitchen, having just turned the smoke alarm off after managing to burn the soup that he’d been trying to make.
Finally, he’d called Iwaizumi – surely Iwa-chan would know more about cooking than he did.
"Let me get this straight." His friend’s voice sounded through the phone. "You burnt soup."
"Yeah."
"You managed to burn canned soup.”
"Like I was telling you." Oikawa grumbled darkly. Suddenly, laughter erupted from the other man and all he could hear was Iwaizumi’s cackling laughter. "It’s not funny!" He raged, a pout now on his face. "At least I tried, which is more than you’ve ever done!"
"Trash heap, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to here? I was the one that made sure you didn’t starve in high school at every lunch, dumbass."
Oh. Right. Well.
"Still, don’t laugh!"
"Why not? It’s fucking hilarious!" Oikawa’s eyes narrowed and his face darkened.
"Iwa-chan." He whispered murderously. "Iwa-chan, I will make you eat this soup while we have a 48-hour marathon of every single horror movie I own." He cast a glance at the scorched remains of the soup. There was an uncomfortable silence that followed his threat and Oikawa couldn’t help but smirk. "Now. Teach me how to cook."
—-
As it turned out, he didn’t actually end up cooking. Iwaizumi refused to come over and help him and he didn’t want to wake Suga. At a complete loss of what to do for his boyfriend, Oikawa sighed and idly began twirling around an empty mug. Then, he had it. He knew what he’d do to make Suga feel better! Half an hour later he still stood in the kitchen, however now the room looked like a disaster zone. Cocoa was streaked across the walls and scattered on the floor, and small puddles of milk were found lying haphazardly all over the floor. Steam was still exiting the microwave in small puffs, curling away into the spectrum of invisibility.
As for Tooru himself, he looked a complete mess. His hair was sticking up even more than usual, and instead of the purposely-ruffled look it usually portrayed, the soft brown locks looked as if they’d been through a hurricane. He looked rather shell-shocked, with cocoa smeared over his face and spilling down his shirt. Blinking slowly, he idly licked his lips, removing all traces of the powder that had dusted them.
"Well." He murmured. "That was…surprisingly difficult."
And despite him having spent roughly half an hour on making a simple mug of hot chocolate, and despite him being Oikawa Tooru, who could do everything (except successfully flirting with Suga), he still hadn’t succeeded.
—-
He shuffled into the bedroom that he and Suga shared, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting within the darkened room. “Suga-chan?” He called softly, trying to find his way in the darkness. “Do you know where - oof!” He collided with the bed and landed face first on top of Suga. The latter woke with a start and, not knowing who had fallen on top of him, began struggling with the other, getting the two young men tangled in the blankets as Oikawa tried to tell Suga that it was him. Finally, Suga sat on to of him, slightly-shaking hands holding his wrists tightly.
“Who are you and what do you - Tooru?” Suga’s eyes filled with recognition and he released his hold on Oikawa, flopping down onto the taller man to rest his head on his boyfriend’s chest. “And what businees does Satan have with me?” He asked softly. Oikawa noted that his voice was stronger than it had previously been, and wondered if what Suga had was a 24-hour thing.
That was generally him and relationships, actually.
"Suga," He whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. "Suga-chan, teach me how to make hot chocolate."
"Uh…" He could hear the confusion in Suga’s mumble. "Why?"
"I had to calll Iwa-chan."
Realisation dawned on Suga.
"Oh. Did you try that hard?"
Oikawa pouted, flicking Suga’s forehead with practiced ease. “I had to call him about the soup.” At this his boyfriend began laughing into his chest.
"I thought I smelled something burning."
"Haha, what are you talking about? I didn’t burn the soup. You can’t burn soup -” Tooru desperately tried to cover up his mistake to fruitless results.
"Did you put it in the oven?"
"How did you know?”
"What were you trying to do, make soup-cake?" Detecting the amusement in Suga’s voice, Oikawa glanced away as heat rushed to his face. He could never manage to hold the upper hand against Suga for very long.
"No!" Indignation was clear on his face. "I was trying to make you feel better." At this, the laughter ceased and Suga peered down at him in the dimness. Oikawa felt Suga’s forehead and frowned.
"Hey, you’re really hot."
"Hmm?" Suga mumbled, energy seeming to be spent once more as he let his head droop onto the other man’s chest. "You’re one to talk, Satan."
"No, I mean as in you’ve got a fever." Oikawa isn’t good at this whole ‘taking care of a sick person’ thing. It’s difficult, and a whole lot of effort, and yet he was determined to be a reasonable boyfriend and do something to make Suga feel better. “I’m sure there’s medicine for that somewhere…” But he felt Suga’s breath on his neck, sending shivers down his spine, and trailed off.
"It’s fine, don’t worry about me." Suga’s whisper stabbed at him. This was how it usually was, if Suga was anything less than ‘fine’. Suga would always lie about how he was, simply to put Oikawa at ease. Usually Oikawa would ask him about it, but he felt that today was not the day to call Suga out about something like this.
"You need to get out of this room, the dark’s affecting your thoughts." Oikawa hurriedly changed the subject and slowly sat up, carefully readjusting Suga so that he was holding him close when he was upright. "C’mon, Suga-chan, teach me how to make hot chocolate." He tried to sound uplifting and cheerful, but his voice twisted. Why did Suga always feel the need to hide his feelings from him? Oikawa felt the urge to scowl. Was he that untrustworthy to Suga?
"Sure." Once more, the reply that he received was mumbled. With a sudden burst of determination to improve Suga’s obviously-negative mood, and with a half-forced smirk he lay Suga down on the bed, rolled him up in the duvet, and threw him over his shoulder.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to manhandle a sick person, so he then swapped the position in exchange for a more comfortable one, carrying Suga in his arms carefully down the stairs. Suga seemed to be startled into proper wakefulness as he he’d started struggling his boyfriend’s arms. But, after finding that he wasn’t going to be dropped onto his head and that it was actually really nice and comfortable and warm to be wrapped in blankets in Oikawa’s arms, he relaxed.
Once they were down in the kitchen, Suga took stock of his surroundings and sighed. Well, there was one mess he’d have to clean up later. But all too soon Oikawa had carried him over to the kitchen bench and started rambling on about his misadventures with the microwave and various other kitchen appliances.
"How did you manage to survive for so long?" Suga muttered in disbelief.
"I’m immortal." The brunette replied cheerfully. Suga wholeheartedly agreed with that - someone that was both infuriating and attractive as Oikawa Tooru could not survive or twenty years and not be immortal. Then again, Suga chalked up most of Oikawa’s survival to Iwaizumi, the some-what fierce, sarcastic guy that was actually a really good friend. Suga had learn that well by now (anytime Oikawa decided to be a little shit Suga could rely on Iwaizumi to never be too far away).
Through an excessive amount of teamwork, several boughts of laughter, sneezes, a few piles of spilled cocoa and yet another hour wasted, and Suga was sitting at the table with a warm mug of hot chocolate, a smile on his face, and a little colour in his cheeks.
"It’s really good, Tooru." He murmured, glancing over at the disheveled but proud brunette. "You learn fast." A slight flush rose to Oikawa’s cheeks. Granted, Suga’s taste wasn’t the strongest due to him being sick, but it seemed hat Oikawa didn’t know that. Besides, he seemed so relieved and happy all at once that Suga let him be. It wasn’t often that Tooru wore such a genuine, innocent expression of joy.
"Haha…yeah. Well, what would you expect?" But the boast had less gusto than usual. "I’m Oikawa Tooru. I get everything right." After Suga raised an eyebrow at him he flushed and glanced down at the table. However, he didn’t stay perturbed for too long. Wrapping his arms around Suga, the brunette brought his face close to the silver-haired man’s, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted to happen next.
"You’ll get sick." Suga warned him, but Oikawa simply shook his head slightly and leaned forwards. Suga wanted to pull away, to stop Oikawa from kissing him and probably getting sick, but Oikawa’s arms encircled him and he couldn’t pull away without falling off the chair. Before he knew it, Oikawa’s lips were pressed against his. They were dry, slightly chapped, but warm, and dusted with sugar and cocoa. He tasted like the deliciously warm drink Suga had just had, and before he knew it Oikawa’s slim-fingered hands were gently cupping his cheeks, holding him as if he were a delicate piece of china that would break at any moment.
"I’m immortal, remember?" Oikawa whispered, gathering Suga up in his arms again.
"You’re still an idiot."
"Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” This evoked soft laughter from both of them, and Oikawa leaned in to kiss his boyfriend again.
"Seriously though…" Suga murmured. "I don’t want you getting yourself sick for me. And especially from me.” He glanced around the kitchen. “We need to clean up.”
But Oikawa had other ideas. He went and got some sheets from the cupboard, laid them down on the floor, constructing some sort of nest-like pile of blankets, and then carefully lay Suga down. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he figured that it appeared very inviting. Curling up next to Suga, he covered them both with the duvet that Suga had previously be cocooned in.
"This seems like a better idea." He whispered with a grin, kissing Suga’s nose. "Sleep well, Suga-chan." Once more he reached for those delicate hands that Suga had, entwining them with his own. The fever seemed to have calmed, and with that in mind, he pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s yet again. Suga tasted sweet, like the hot chocolate he made, and as he leaned his forehead against Suga’s, letting his eyes flicker closed, he reflected grudgingly that he should have done something like this sooner.
—-
And when Iwaizumi visited two hours later (after having not received any angry text messages all in capital letters for an hour), he found both Suga and Oikawa curled up on the floor together under a blanket, with smiles on their faces and cocoa everywhere. Iwaizumi had considered waking them up, but had eventually just closed the door quietly, locked it, and had gone to the nearby cinemas to watch the newest movie about dragons. He may constantly act indifferent towards Oikawa, but he does know by now to leave the guy alone when he’s with someone. Particularly Suga.