Chapter Text
The classroom felt strangely empty without Hioki sitting there, even though he was quiet most of the time.
Watarai found himself glancing at the empty desk every few minutes, his pencil tapping anxiously against his notebook.
He hadn't received a single text all morning, which wasn't like Hioki at all. A knot of worry tightened in his stomach, making it hard to focus on the lecture.
He figured Hioki could have woken up late. Maybe he had forgotten to set his alarm last night, but Watarai still couldn’t help but worry a little.
By the end of the school day, the worry had turned into a lingering ache in his chest. The decision had already been made. He still remembered the address from the first and only time that he slept over at Hioki’s house.
He took the first bus there and by now, the anxiety had settled deep within his chest. He just needed to know that Hioki was okay.
-
He finally arrived at the front door of Hioki’s home and the door swung open just as he was about to knock.
It wasn’t Hioki, but Hioki’s mother. She blinked in surprise, then the recognition dawned on her. “Ah, Watarai-kun! You’re Hioki’s friend!”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry to intrude,” Watarai bowed slightly, “Is Hioki…?”
“Ah— He’s resting. He came down with a fever last night, stubborn boy didn’t say a word until he could barely stand this morning.” She sighed, slipping on her coat. “I was just heading to the pharmacy for more medicine. Do you think could stay with him while I’m gone? I won’t be long.”
“Of course.” Watarai said without a second thought, the words tumbling out before he could even think.
“Thankyou Watarai-kun! I’ll be back shortly.”
Watarai then made his way inside. He slipped off his shoes, lined them up neatly beside Hioki’s, and made his way to the faintly familiar hallway where Hioki’s room was.
His room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn against the afternoon sun that was peeking through. He was snuggled up under a thick comforter, only the top of his dark, messy hair visible. Watarai stood in the doorway for a moment. The room smelled like Hioki, along with the faint scent of cough medicine.
“Hioki?” he said softly, stepping closer.
A muffled sound came from the blankets. Then Hioki shifted, the comforter slipping down to reveal his face. He blinked slowly before the recognition hit him.
“…Watarai?” His voice was a little rough, weak and somewhat pitiful sounding. He tried to push himself up on his elbows, his arms trembling a bit. “Don’t move” Watarai said as he started towards him quicker, reaching forward and leaning Hioki back gently against his pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed next to hioki, his hands retreating to sink into the mattress.
Up close, Watarai could see a faint tear that escaped the corner of his eye from the position that he had been resting in earlier, tracing a path down his cheek. He looked up at Watarai, his expression so openly vulnerable. Watarai felt his stomach twist the second Hioki looked up at him.
A thought flickered in the back of Watarai’s mind. The rawness of it, the vulnerable look in his eyes. His hair was a mess, cheeks flushed a pretty pink color. His eyes were all glossy and half lidded, his lips parted slightly.
His mind was going places that he didn’t intend for it to go. Watarai immediately felt a wave of guilt rush through him. He was sick for god’s sake. Get your head out of the gutter. He shoved the thought down, burying it deep and focusing on Hioki’s wellbeing.
“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”Watarai asked in a gentle tone, reaching out to brush the stray, damp hair from Hioki’s forehead. His skin was burning hot.
Hioki’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch and he instinctively leaned into Watarai’s cool fingers. “I’m feeling better,” he mumbled, turning his face halfway into the pillow.
“It’s just a small fever” There was a short pause. “You didn’t have to come all the way here…”He coughed in between sentences. “your parents will probably start to worry soon,” Hioki slurred, his voice muffled slightly by the pillow.
“I already called my mom to let her know where I was going” he assured him, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. “Hioki… you’re burning up.”
Watarai moved to find a small cloth so that he could get it wet and attempt to cool him down, but before he could even get near the door, he felt Hioki’s hand grip onto his arm.
“Wait—“
Watarai looked back in surprise, Hioki’s hand still holding onto him tightly. He was looking up at him. In this moment, the expression on his face was almost similar to a sad puppy that just got its toy taken away.
“Where are you going?” he asked with a little sniffle following behind, a slight shake in his voice. Anyone would be able to tell that he’s sick from the hoarse and stuffy sound of his voice. Which as a result, made his tone come out weak and even softer than usual.
Watarai looked down at him with wide eyes, still caught a little off guard. Of course Watarai didn’t wish for Hioki to be sick, but there was something about seeing him so vulnerable, so helpless. He liked being the person that Hioki depended on, the person that Hioki needed.
-
It wasn’t because he thought Hioki couldn’t manage on his own, but because moments like this, when Hioki let himself lean on him without protest, when Hioki let himself depend on him. Those were moments that Watarai cherished. He liked being someone that Hioki could trust enough to rely on during moments like this.
Though, Watarai often has to remind himself that Hioki isn't fragile. Even if it’s hard for him not to think of him like that. He knows that Hioki is capable of handling himself.
He understands that it wouldn’t be good if he made himself someone that Hioki depended on completely and didn’t let him take care of himself, But there’s still moments where Watarai finds himself wanting to do everything for Hioki. To protect him. To be the person that takes care of everything so that he doesn’t have to worry about a thing. To do everything in his control to cherish him completely.
-
His eyes softened and he turned his body to face Hioki again, but Hioki’s grip remained still on his arm. “I’m just going to get a cloth, I’ll be quick” he followed it up with a soft, familiar smile.
Hioki’s grip on Watarai’s arm softened before he hesitantly retreated his hand back. He nodded, still gazing up at him. “There should be one in the cabinet of the bathroom.”
After a few moments of searching the cabinet, Watarai found a clean washcloth, ran it under cool water, and wrung it out. When he returned, Hioki was dozing off a little.
Gently, Watarai folded the comforter down to Hioki’s waist. He was wearing soft, thin pajamas, the top buttoned loosely. “This should help cool you down.” Watarai started with his forehead, dabbing the cool cloth over his brow, his temples. Hioki’s eyes fluttered open slightly at the feeling, releasing a soft, shaky sigh. His body relaxing under Watarai’s touch. “Feels good..” he slurred.
His eyes began drifting shut once again and Watarai moved the cloth down, carefully patting over Hioki’s cheeks, his jaw. His touch was so soft, so tender, Like Hioki was something delicate.
He unbuttoned the top button of Hioki’s pajama shirt, just one, to get better access to his neck. The fabric fell open, revealing the pretty flush that continued down his neck to the top of his chest. Hioki’s eyes flickered away from Watarai as he did this and he could feel his face heat up, but now, it wasn’t from the fever alone.
Watarai sensed Hioki’s hesitation and stopped in his tracks. “Is this okay?… Are you uncomfortable?” He asked in a softer tone. Hioki shook his head back and forth. “No… I’m okay,” he murmured, eyes still darting away from Watarai’s.
Watarai continued, brushing the damp cloth against the hot skin of Hioki’s neck. Hioki shivered, His breath hitching softly at the feeling. Watarai froze, his own hand stilling.
He looked at Hioki’s face. Hioki had turned his head away, exposing the long line of his neck. His ears were burning red, more than the fever could account for. Watarai swallowed, unable to shift his gaze away from Hioki’s neck.
One of Hioki’s hands had crept out from under the covers, his fingers fisting weakly into the fabric of Watarai’s shirt sleeve, holding onto it. His face was still turned away, halfway digging into the pillow with a flustered pink coloring his cheeks even more than before.
Watarai continued to move again, the cloth tracing slow, deliberate paths over Hioki’s neck, down to the dip between his collarbones. “Hioki, Is it okay if I unbutton your shirt a little more? Just so that I can cool down this area too.”
Hioki nodded, along with a soft “Mhm…”Watarai then reached to unbutton the second button of Hioki’s shirt. As soon as the second button was undone the fabric gaped open and revealed more of the tan, flushed skin of his chest, which was rising and falling a little too quickly. Watarai’s movements became slower.
He dragged the cloth over a delicate collarbone, along a shoulder. His knuckles grazed warm, now damp skin. Hioki made another sound. A barely audible, low breath that was muffled by the pillow.
His grip on Watarai’s shirt tightened. Watarai’s gaze was locked onto the side of Hioki’s face that was still visible before his eyes traced down to the patch of skin that had just been uncovered.
He stared. Hioki’s skin looked so soft. Watarai jerked his eyes away, focusing on anything but the skin that his eyes were drawn to.
He got the cloth wet again and continued, focusing more on Hioki’s arms, his hands.
Hioki’s breathing had evened out slightly. There was a comfortable silence between the two, occasional shudders from Hioki when the new chill of the cloth would graze his hot skin.
“Hioki, can I ask you something?” Watarai’s voice broke the silence.
HIoki’s eyes met Watarai’s. “Mm, what is it?” he murmured.
”Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” he asked, his voice a bit lower than before.
There was a short pause, Watarai letting the damp cloth rest on Hioki’s arm. “I didn’t want you to worry..” He murmured quietly.
Watarai let those words sink in before responding.
He set the damp cloth to the side and he reached out, placing his hand carefully on top of Hioki’s, where it relaxed on the blanket. “Hioki,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, but soft.
Hioki looked at him, blinking slowly.
“When things like this happen,” Watarai continued, his thumb lightly stroking over Hioki’s knuckles. “Or anything. Anything at all. I want to be the one who takes care of you. I want to help you. So don’t… don’t hide it from me. Even if it’s worrisome, I want you to tell me.”
He leaned in a little closer, his expression earnest, his cool composure melted away by the sight of Hioki so vulnerable in front of him. “It hurts me more, not knowing. I want to know things like this, as your boyfriend.”
His voice softened at the last part, his fingers moving to tangle with Hioki’s softly.
Hioki’s watery eyes fluttered open and closed. His face flushed a deep pink color and a shy smile appeared on his face. “Mm.” He nodded, a small, jerky motion, and moved his fingers to intertwine with Watarai’s; his grip weak but certain. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice still a little rough. “I’m sorry for making you worry so much.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Watarai murmured as his expression softened into a gentle smile. His grip tightening faintly on Hioki’s hand. “Just let me take care of you, like this.”