Chapter Text
Kei cards his fingers through sweaty bangs, brushing the hair out of his face. Akaashi’s hair is the longest he’s ever seen it, curling past his ears and over his neck. It only succeeds in aiding his overheating skin, making his chest heave with the desperate attempt to cool down. They don’t have a thermometer, had never thought they needed one before all of this, but Kei knows his fever is too high. This is different from Akaashi’s heat, when he can use his tongue and fingers to ease the simmering below his skin. A genuine sickness, a fever or a flu or whatever this is, Kei doesn’t know how to heal.
At yesterday's sunrise Akaashi blubbered in a half-coherency for Kuroo to stay. The alpha kissed his face and promised he’d be back soon, determined to find medicine that likely doesn’t exist anymore. Kei keeps the pessimism to himself, knowing it won’t serve anyone now. Akaashi had wept, keening as loud as his body allowed him, and somehow Kuroo still found the strength to drive away with what little gas the truck had left. Neither Bokuto nor Kei could calm him, gentle touches nothing more than a mere distraction as he sobbed for the alpha. Kei doesn’t know how to explain to his fever ridden brain that this is his only chance.
Even if there are herbs or some home remedy that will ease this pain he’s in, they don’t know it. They don’t know how to identify plants, how to incite the medicinal properties inside. Not for the first time since this all began, Kei regrets. He wishes he had not followed his own happiness, and went instead into some practical career. That instead of playing volleyball that he had dedicated his studies to medicine or herbology, anything that would help Akaashi now.
They had been uncharacteristically lucky before, that no one had gotten severely ill. It’s nearly been half a year, as much as it feels like eons that they’ve been sheltered in what used to be the Bokuto vacation home. It was only meant to be a two week stay, a way to force the pack out of their overworking tendencies. Give them plenty of time to relax, to bond, to fuck, and everything inbetween.
They’ve truly been blessed with this location, a house for the four of them, with a bed big enough for all of them to spread out. A storm shelter they can hide away in, if disaster strikes again. There’s even a river down at the edge of their land, cutting through the grass and giving them a plentiful source of clean water. It's everything they could have needed when the sewers and electricity got cut off. Kei knows they are lucky, good fortune blooming over them that they have the shelter they need.
Even so he can’t help but regret they weren’t home when it happened. Because then at least they would have had medicine. A whole cabinet stocked with fever reducers and painkillers and everything they desperately hope Kuroo can find now. He can’t go home, the truck doesn’t have enough fuel and even if it did, they don’t know if it exists anymore. Even if their phones had not long since died, he’s certain there’s no longer an internet. There’s no way to know which buildings have fallen and which have been overtaken. So Kei has to trust his alpha, to know he’ll fight with whatever strength he has left to provide for his mates.
Bokuto is doing his best to hold them together. The alpha’s wrists are bleeding again, when he comes back to the nest. Akaashi reaches his arms out with a whine, desperate. Bokuto doesn’t hesitate to come close, wrap his omega in his arms and press his lips to his forehead. He must also feel how much warmer his skin is because he grimaces before he can catch himself. He makes eye contact with Kei, a silent worry, before plastering a smile back on his face. Akaashi doesn’t need to know, doesn’t need to be afraid of his own vulnerability on top of his mates endless fear.
Bokuto pushes his scent out, protective and soothing, pomegranate filling the room enough that even through Akaashi’s stuffy nose he can still get a whiff of the alpha’s pheromones. He whines again, body clumsy with exhaustion, unsure who to lean into. They won’t let him work himself up, they’re both here. Kei kisses his cheek and tries to ignore the ever-present absence of Kuroo. It’s not the first time one of the alphas have left for a day, but before they had only ventured as far as the woods. They always come back by sundown, and sometimes they even have a prize of their hunting ventures held up and ready to feed.
It’s a cloying sort of thing to know Kuroo isn’t within hearing distance, that now if they scream he will be unaware. Kei can’t allow himself to dwell in the anxieties of all the what if’s flooding through his brain. He has to trust the alpha to come back. He has to hope that somehow, against all odds, he can find medicine for Akaashi.
For now, he focuses on the boy beside him. Kei is almost as sweaty as he is, but he knows if he dares to leave his side that Akaashi will just work himself up into another vomiting fit. They already had to remove a blanket yesterday after Akaashi cried so hard for Kuroo that he spit up all over himself. They’ve yet to wash it, trying to reserve their stores of water. The river is a short walk, but with one omega sickly and the other tending to him, Bokuto refuses to go far. He instead scent marks over the perimeter of the house, the calluses on his wrist glands ripping back open with the thoroughness of his scenting.
Kei is sure that both Bokuto and Kuroo have spread their pheromones over every tree within the kilometer, ensuring no rouges could ever get a hint of omega on the air. Omegas were already the rarest dynamic before, but now. Kei fears how many of them are left, how many had been brutalized until the mercy of death by ruthless ferals.
Neither of their alphas would ever let such a fate happen upon them. They would fight until their last breath to ensure no one else so much as lays a finger upon them.
Bokuto whispers to Akaashi, trying to soothe his whimpers. There’s so many reasons he could be crying. The overwhelming heat radiating from his skin, the full-body aches preventing him from getting comfortable, the nauseous sort of hunger they’ve been unable to sate. But they know, they both know it’s because Kuroo left. Kei doesn’t know how to get it through his fever plagued mind that this was the only way. And so he curls up against his side, ignoring the uncomfortable heat, and rubs his wrist over Akaashi’s skin. His chest, his stomach, his sides, anywhere he can reach.
Bokuto does the same from the other side, careful not to get any blood on the boy. Kei isn’t sure whether Akaashi saw the speckles of red or if he somehow got a whiff of the iron because he grasps at the alpha’s hand. Shakier than he’s ever been, he brings the limb up and towards his face. Akaashi doesn’t hesitate, eyes glassy, and begins to lathe his tongue over the small hurt. It’s instinctual, some desperate need to soothe the hurt on his mate. Bokuto has to look away, the sheen in his eyes dancing off the rays from the window. Even sickly, Akaashi tries his best to take care of them.
Bokuto makes no move to pull away, allows the omega to flatten his tongue against the raw scent gland. He licks, swallows what little blood must come off, and continues. Kei is sure this isn’t the best thing to prevent Bokuto from falling ill too, but he can’t dare to stop it. Akaashi finally isn’t sobbing, allowing himself the indulgence of helping his mate. He’ll let him do what he needs to to stave off the screaming instincts inside him. He must feel it too, the surge of protectiveness now that four has gone to three.
Kuroo is coming back. He’s coming back. Kei needs to stop thinking as if he is dead and focus on what’s in front of him.
Bokuto allows him to suckle at his gland until the blood is long gone and the skin is now red and swollen from the constant ministrations. He doesn’t pull back right away, instead calling out, “Keiji, baby, you need to take a break.” Akaashi shows no recognition of being spoken to. Kei is unsure whether he’s too focused on his self-soothing against Bokuto’s skin or if the pounding in his head is roaring too loudly. “Keiji,” Bokuto calls out again. He jostles his hand, not fully pulling away, but enough to earn him a half-hearted growl from the omega. He can’t help his laugh. It’s not often, afterall, that their sweet boy actually growls at one of them.
“Sweetheart,” he tries again, “I need to go get your milk ready.” They must be almost out by now. A little while after the disaster they had found a soon to be expired can of powdered heat milk in one of the cupboards. It must have been forgotten when one of Bokuto’s sisters had come for a vacation of her own. It wasn’t the largest carton, but it’s enough to get some sustenance into Akaashi when his stomach refuses all other foods. It’s more similar to a formula than genuine milk, but when watered down enough it doesn’t trigger his nausea too badly.
Kei bites back the urge to offer to help, knowing he’ll be refused again. He tries not to let it bother him, how desperately overprotective both alphas have gotten since Akaashi fell ill. He knows it’s not their fault, their instincts screeching at them to keep both omegas cuddled up in the nest. Safest when curled up together, where they can be easily guarded. If Kei’s instincts are already haywire with the need to protect, he can’t imagine how intense it is for the alphas. So he pushes down the lingering frustration and allows Bokuto to pull away. It won’t take long, Bokuto wouldn’t dare build a fire now when his mate is hungry and mewling for more scenting.
He backs up from the nest, tearing himself away when Akaashi keens. It’s ear piercing, a guttural cry for help, a feverish attempt to keep his other alpha from leaving. Bokuto steels himself well, turning away with a promise to be back soon. Kei has to wrap both arms around his waist to keep Akaashi from crawling after him. He’d collapse before he could even make it out of the room. Kei won’t let him fall. He shushes the sudden influx of tears, his brain too fuzzy to make sense of why their lover would leave. “Hey, baby, it’s okay. He’s coming right back, alpha is coming back.”
He lays back, pulling Akaashi on top of him. Ever since the fever began they’ve been practically nude, only their underwear staying on. Skinship helps, if nothing else, to ease even a little of the turmoil inside Akaashi’s body. They haven’t even been able to wear their collars, the leather too harsh against Akaashi’s sweaty skin. He’s been attached to Kei’s scent glands, licking and sucking at the skin in a self-soothing gesture, the same he was against Bokuto’s wrist. Kei hasn’t looked in a mirror but he’s sure his glands are perpetually swollen, sensitive to the cold air anytime Akaashi’s mouth isn’t on him.
He’s always loved mouthing against his skin, but it’s been tenfold since he got sick. Sometimes, it’s the only way to ease his wracking frame from more bawling, allowing him to nibble his glands raw. The one time he tried to put his collar back on it hurt enough to get Akaashi worked back up, surely smelling the bitter pain he let out. Both collars now sit on the nightstand, beside both pairs of their glasses.
The entire pack has been fervently protective of the eyepieces, ensuring nothing happens that would leave either omega impaired. Akaashi didn’t used to have glasses, he would cope fine without them, but not Kei. His eyes can only make out vague shapes and colors without aid, leaving him even more vulnerable than he is already. He’s eternally thankful he never went through with getting contacts.
Akaashi shudders against his skin, breath coming out in hot puffs. He’s trembling no matter how much he rubs his back and finger-combs through his hair. He ignores how thin he’s gotten, avoiding the knobs of his spine to caress along his ribs. He’s always been lean, but it’s as if all the work they’ve put in to keep their weight steady has gone out the window with this fucking sickness. They’ll rapidly need to figure out a new hunting style to ensure they can get enough meat to get some weight back on him. They need to make sure that if he gets sick again that it won’t wither him to nothing.
He won’t settle until Bokuto is back. Despite what people outside their pack may have thought, Akaashi has always been clingy. To those he’s close with, he’s incredibly touchy-feely, always needing an embrace or a kiss to help stave off whatever negative feelings threaten to overtake him. The best way to pull him down from a threatening panic attack has always been a good cuddle. It’s even more pronounced now, his instincts raw and screaming.
Kei presses his lips to his nose, each cheek, his forehead, even his eyelids. The tears clinging to his lashes dampen Kei’s mouth but he keeps going, anything to help ease his shaking.
Before Bokuto even crosses the threshold of the door Akaashi is crying out, trilling for his mate to come here please please. The only reason he doesn’t bound forward is the cup in his hand, careful not to spill any of the precious milk. Kei is scared to ask how much powder is left. He won’t now, he’ll wait until Akaashi has drifted back off. He hopes his sleep will be less fitful if his stomach isn’t so painfully empty. Their last attempt to feed him was pitiful enough.
“I’m here, alpha is here,” he reassures. He’s careful when he crawls into the nest, guaranteeing not a drop splashes over the rim of the glass. Kei helps Akaashi sit up, steadying his body when it threatens to collapse. Bokuto settles down, spreading his legs as he guides Akaashi to sit between them. He leans heavily against the alpha’s chest, exhaustion as perpetual as his stubbornness. Bokuto brings the single reusable straw they have left to his lips, whispering soft praises when he begins to drink. The relief is a palpable being in the room, both Bokuto and Kei’s scents blooming sweeter to see the omega finally be nourished.
Every day seeing Akaashi fall further has only proven to Kei that his heart can indeed break several times over. His ribs are failing at entrapping the shattered pieces, allowing the dust to settle into his blood and pump through his entire body. With every breath all he can feel is his own selfish fear that Akaashi won’t get better.
The omega has always been so strong, seeing him be forced into this, defenseless and sensitive, has been devastating. He can only hope the heat milk will help strengthen him, give his body a push towards recovery. None of them have dared say it aloud, what would happen if he were to not get better. They can’t, won’t risk verbalization jinxing whatever fortune they’ve been granted so far.
Kei does not allow himself to linger on the fear, busying himself with rearranging the nest. It’s not as grand as they had back home, not as many layers of blankets to roll around in, but they make do. He needs to be grateful that have enough blankets at all, that he’s able to make a structure large enough for the four of them.
Unable to do laundry he has to reorganize, bring the dry blankets to the top and put the sweat-damp ones to the barrier. It’s not the most clean, but it’s enough. It would only set Akaashi off if he tried to disassemble it now. When Kuroo comes back they will once again be free to go down to the river. They will fill the pail with clean water and scrub the fabrics against smooth rocks until they are fresh again. They’ve long since run out of laundry soap, needing to clean clothes the way he’s seen in old movies.
Akaashi sputters, milk dribbling down his chin as he begins to cough. Bokuto pulls the cup away, setting it on the nightstand as he tries to ease his heaving chest. Kei lumbers forward, wiping away the renewed tears slipping down his mate’s face when he can’t catch his breath. He prays he doesn’t fully throw up again, rid himself of the only sustenance they’re able to give him. He cradles his face, pressing their foreheads together when he stops heaving. “Easy, love,” he murmurs, caressing the skin. His jaw is sharper now, evidence of the weight this illness has stolen from him. He doesn’t allow himself to linger, instead thumbs over the swell of his cheek. “We’ve got you.”
Akaashi lets out a stuttered sigh, leaning into the touch. When he’s no longer sputtering, Bokuto asks, “ready to drink some more?” Akaashi gives a sort of loose nod, like his neck no longer has the strength to keep him up. Kei guides him back, letting him make a pillow of Bokuto’s shoulder before he hands the cup back to the alpha. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of watching Akaashi drink, not when it’s proof of his body trying to strengthen itself.
He almost finishes the whole thing this time. The straw falls from his lax mouth, eyes closed as he drifts off. Kei is a bit surprised he stayed up so long. He was coherent enough this time. He takes the cup back, settling it on the table again before helping the alpha lay Akaashi back down. He looks so much more fragile like this, limp and ashen.
Once Akaashi is settled, breathing even if a bit shallow, Bokuto turns his attention to him. “Take a nap, babe, you look exhausted.”
While Kei can not deny the stinging against the back of his eyes, he refuses. “I’m okay. There’s so much to do.” He doesn't rub at his face, knowing that’ll just ruin his argument.
Bokuto nods, understanding as he is unwavering. “You are allowed to rest. I’ll watch over you.”
It’s embarrassing how quickly he yields. He can’t deny how greedy he is though, desperate for his alpha’s care. He allows his mate to lay him down, shuffling so he can lay behind him. Kei pulls Akaashi to his chest as Bokuto spoons him from behind. He’ll surely overheat, but it doesn’t matter. Not when he has his lovers wrapped around him. He pushes down the yearning for Kuroo to come back already and allows his alpha to soothe him to sleep.
/
When Kei wakes up, his back is cold.
He doesn’t have to look to know that Bokuto left the nest. His fruity pheromones are still fresh in the air though so he must have only missed him by a few minutes. Akaashi is still in his arms, skin slick with perspiration. When he kisses his forehead he feels just as feverish as he did before. While he had hoped for a miracle, he is still just as ill.
He doesn’t debate long before he decides to leave the bed. He likely doesn’t have much time until Akaashi wakes up again and he urgently needs to pee. He puts his glasses back on, reminding himself how shit his eyesight actually is. Surprisingly, his alpha doesn’t immediately try to herd him back into the bedroom so he’s allowed to urinate in peace. He knows Bokuto wouldn’t have wandered far, not with both omegas lying asleep and helpless.
He finds him in the kitchen, using a bucket of river water to wash the cup and straw. He knows the alpha hears him approach because his scent sweetens up again, like fruit ripe for the picking. Kei doesn’t hesitate to come up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a kiss to his nape, relishing in the small shudder he gets in return.
“How’d you sleep?” Bokuto rasps. Kei grasps at his hips, half considering just turning him around and presenting himself. He won’t, not with one mate gone and the other overwhelmed with sickness, but he wants. He misses the intimacy, the freedom to indulge, he misses his fingers and his cock.
He presses another lingering kiss, just a taste, before he leans his head against his shoulder. “It was good, needed.” He doesn’t let the alpha get too smug before asking, “did you nap, too?”
That sober him up. He places the dishes down, wiping his hands on his pants before he turns around. Kei readily accepts the hug, pressing his face to the crook of his neck. Right where his scent is most potent. “Almost did. It’s so peaceful watching you two sleep.” There’s more to be said, always is, but Kei knows better than to push. The last thing they need is to get into an argument, something stupid and trivial that will just get the whole house crying out.
He pushes his scent out, a little more affectionate, “you deserve rest too.” He’s not going to start this fight again, but it still needs to be said. He presses a kiss against the underside of his jaw, a submissive gesture.
It works to keep him from getting too defensive, “I can’t now, not with Tetsurou out.” He sighs, a horribly exhaustive sound, “it’ll get better once he’s back.” It’s the first overnight any of them have spent away. Neither omega will allow them to hunt for too long, too afraid of the rouge alphas they sure roam the woods. They know both Bokuto and Kuroo are strong, both having been strict in their workout regimes. Even so, the separation anxiety never eases until they’re all back together again, curled up in the nest in a tangle of limbs and warm bodies.
He doesn't allow himself to be disappointed. He knew the answer even before he said it. “Is there anything you need help with?” He already has a list in his head of things that ought to get done, Kuroo here or not.
Bokuto gives him a warm smile before nuzzing their cheeks together. He’s sure his strawberry shortcake scent is more sugar than berry but he can’t find it in him to mind even when he’s refused. “I’m okay, but thank you. You should go back to the nest before he wakes up.”
As much as he wants to pull his lover along with him, make him take a much needed nap, he knows he won’t budge. With one last lingering kiss on the lips, with only a little bit of tongue, he goes back. Blessedly, Akaashi is still asleep. His breathing is still shallow, but his face relaxes once Kei runs his fingers through his hair a few times. Even in his sleep he can never ease without a mate by his side.
This time when Akaashi wakes up, he doesn’t need to cry out before Kei is quieting the heaving of his chest. He cradles his face, forces him to look and see he’s right there, look baby, I’m here, I’m here. He quiets easily, body overwrought with marrow deep exhaustion. It’s truly a miracle his body has not simply given out yet, months of little food wearing him down.
The alphas do their best, they set up traps, go hunt when they can. They even made their own fishing rods out of things they found in the house. When allowed, Kei and Akaashi will search for edible plants. Any fruits or herbs they can get their hands on. There’s not much, the animals in the forest already knowing where all the good foods are hiding.
Once, they even caught a deer.
They didn’t used to be this possessive over each other, but it’s to be expected he supposes. Before their phones lost power and the news stopped airing, they had heard the beginnings of the tragedy. There wasn’t enough time for the politicians to put a name to the event before everything stopped. Living here, this land, it gave them the chance they needed to survive. If somehow the world begins to turn again, and life finds some semblance of normalcy again, Kei isn’t sure they’d be able to leave. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel safe again, without a river running close and plenty of trees to hide their house from onlookers.
It doesn’t matter, he supposes. The Earth’s axis has shifted and there’s no one who can right it again. So he strokes Akaashi’s face and pets his hair and pretends he’s not so afraid of losing him too.