Chapter Text
Leo wakes up to the sound of beeping.
It’s soft and rhythmic, not unlike a metronome ticking out time, and for a few hazy seconds he thinks he’s still at his desk. That he’s dozed off grading essays again, red pen slipping from his fingers, the smell of chalk and old paper clinging to his clothes. He tries to move, to reach for the stack of notebooks he knows should be beside him, but his arm feels heavy. Too heavy.
His eyelids flutter open.
White. Too white.
The ceiling above him is unfamiliar, smooth and fluorescent-lit, and the smell in the air is sharp and clean. Antiseptic. His chest tightens as awareness trickles back in, slow and unwelcome. A hospital. He swallows, throat dry, and turns his head slightly.
That’s when he sees Claude.
Claude is standing near the foot of the bed, clipboard in hand, posture straight in that way Leo knows all too well. His white coat is pristine, sleeves rolled just enough to suggest he’s been working for hours. His hair is pulled back neatly, glasses perched on his nose. Professional. Composed.
And staring at Leo like he’s both furious and terrified.
“Oh,” Leo croaks, voice barely audible. “Hi.”
Claude freezes.
For a moment, he just stares, eyes widening ever so slightly, like he’s seeing a ghost instead of his boyfriend. Then his jaw tightens, lips pressing into a thin line. He steps forward, footsteps sharp against the floor.
“Leo Kuga,” Claude says, voice clipped and dangerously calm. “Care to explain why I was assigned a case involving an unconscious English teacher who collapsed at work, only to find you in my hospital bed?”
Leo winces. “When you put it like that…”
Claude doesn’t smile. He sets the clipboard down with a little more force than necessary and crosses his arms. “You passed out in front of your coworkers. Your blood pressure was low, you’re severely dehydrated, and you’re running on exhaustion so extreme I’m honestly impressed you made it through the week.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Leo murmurs, gaze drifting away. “I just… got tired.”
“Tired?” Claude repeats. His voice cracks, just slightly. “Leo, you didn’t faint because you stayed up late once. You collapsed because you’ve been overworking yourself for months.”
Leo fidgets under the blanket, fingers curling into the fabric. “I’m fine now, see? Awake and everything.”
“That is not the point.”
Claude exhales sharply and turns away, rubbing a hand over his face. When he turns back, his expression is softer—but the worry in his eyes makes Leo’s chest ache.
“Do you have any idea,” Claude says quietly, “what it felt like to see your name on that chart?”
Leo shakes his head.
“It felt like the floor dropping out from under me,” Claude continues. “I’m your doctor right now, Leo. And as your doctor, I have every right to be upset.”
“As my boyfriend too,” Leo adds weakly.
“Yes,” Claude says. “Especially as your boyfriend.”
Silence settles between them, broken only by the steady beep of the monitor. Leo stares at his hands, knuckles pale where he’s gripping the blanket. His throat tightens.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” he says at last. “You’re busy enough as it is.”
Claude laughs once, short and humorless. “So your solution was to work yourself into the hospital?”
Leo flinches.
Claude immediately softens. He steps closer, resting a hand on the edge of the bed. “Leo,” he says, more gently now. “Talk to me.”
Leo swallows. His chest feels tight, like everything he’s been holding back is pressing against his ribs, desperate to escape. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“I can’t rest,” he finally says.
Claude tilts his head. “Why?”
Leo squeezes his eyes shut.
“Because if I do,” he whispers, “everything falls apart.”
Claude’s brows knit together. “That’s not true.”
“It feels true,” Leo says, voice trembling now. “I’m the only native English teacher those kids have. If I mess up, if I don’t prepare them properly, they fail. And if they fail, that’s on me.”
His breath stutters, words spilling out faster now, like he’s afraid if he slows down he won’t be able to continue.
“They trust me,” Leo says. “The students. Their parents. The other teachers. Everyone expects me to get them through exams, to help them speak properly, to open doors for them. And I can’t let them down.”
Claude’s hand curls slightly, knuckles whitening.
“And if I rest,” Leo continues, voice breaking, “it feels like I’m being selfish. Like I’m choosing myself over them.” A tear slips down his cheek before he can stop it. He hastily wipes it away, but more follow.
“I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” he chokes out. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
That does it.
Claude steps forward fully now, abandoning professionalism in favour of something far more personal. He pulls a chair up to the bedside and sits, taking Leo’s hands in his own. His grip is warm, steady.
“Leo,” Claude says firmly. “Look at me.”
Leo hesitates, then lifts his gaze.
Claude’s eyes are glossy.
“You could never disappoint me by taking care of yourself,” Claude says. “Do you hear me?”
Leo shakes his head weakly. “But what if I fail them?”
“Then you are human,” Claude replies. “And you are allowed to be.”
Leo lets out a shaky laugh that turns into a sob. “I’m supposed to be strong.”
“No,” Claude says softly. “You’re allowed to be tired.”
Leo breaks then, shoulders shaking as he cries, all the pent-up fear and pressure pouring out at once. Claude stands and carefully pulls him into his chest, mindful of the IV and monitors, one arm wrapped securely around him.
“It’s okay,” Claude murmurs, pressing a kiss into Leo’s hair. “I’ve got you.”
Leo clutches at the front of Claude’s coat, fingers curling into the fabric like a lifeline. “I was so scared,” he admits. “I thought if I stopped, everything would go wrong.”
“And now?” Claude asks.
Leo sniffles. “Now I feel stupid for pushing myself this far.”
Claude pulls back just enough to look at him. “You’re not stupid. You’re caring to a fault.”
Leo gives a watery smile. “Sounds about right.”
Claude brushes a thumb under Leo’s eye, wiping away a tear. “You scare me when you do this.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Claude says. “But sorry isn’t enough. You need to rest. Properly.”
Leo sighs, leaning back against the pillows. “Doctor’s orders?”
“And boyfriend’s,” Claude adds.
A faint smile tugs at Leo’s lips. “Will you stay?”
Claude doesn’t hesitate. “As long as you need.”
Leo closes his eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to him now that the fear has drained away. With Claude beside him, hand still warm in his, the beeping of the monitor fades into the background.
For the first time in months, Leo lets himself rest. And this time, he doesn’t feel guilty at all.