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"… That'll be all for the stream today. Bye bye…"
Kenma watched the screen of his monitor go black, his reflection making him wince.
He had streamed for… he glanced at the digital clock on his desk, squinting. The red glare was a lot brighter than before. He had been streaming for four hours. Which was… more than he was planning to this time.
He rubbed his temples. He had been getting a lot of headaches lately, and he suspected it was from staring too long at a monitor.
"Is it about time I get glasses like Tora said..?"
Kenma recalled one Monday morning after a particularly long stream. He must have looked worse than usual because Tora lectured him about his bad habit of playing in the dark.
"You're gonna ruin your eyesight!!" Tora had said, passionately.
"I don't need glasses," Kenma stubbornly insisted. "My eyesight is great."
"You-!"
"But you should be careful," Fukunaga butt in between them. "Or you'll become Blindma."
"Blindma-?" Tora was stunned. Kenma let out a quiet snort.
"I won't," Kenma had said, so sure of himself. Now he wished he listened.
Kenma stood up and dragged his feet. Whatever, it was just a headache. He'll take a painkiller and sleep on it and it'll go away.
After washing down a pill with water, he plopped down on his bed. He should rest, after a successful stream like that but…
He turned over, glancing at his PSP on his nightstand.
…
"A little bit wouldn't hurt…"
—x—
"It's hopeless… we can't beat them like this!"
Muffled music and sound effects came from the only patch of light from underneath a quilt blanket in the corner of the room.
"Fall back and regroup!"
Kenma rubbed his eyes, blinked until the screen was no longer blurry, barely missing how his character was attacked by a hidden archer.
"I have… failed you, my Liege…"
He would curse under his breath—this was the second time he lost to this enemy—but his voice was hoarse as is. Whatever would come out of his dry lips would be as tasteless as sand. He swallowed to try and clear his airpipes but what little he did swallow felt like lava, and his throat felt like it had pointy little pebbles grinding against his esophagus.
To top the pain off, it went down the wrong pipe.
"Gh-" Kenma folded into himself as he hacked his lungs out. His console was set aside, the game finally wasn't helping him distract himself anymore when he felt even worse than before.
So. It wasn't just a headache.
He shifted on his bed, his body felt like lead. Or when you sit on a leg for too long and a single miniscule movement electrocutes every nerve ending. His head pounded, his throat hurt, his eyes hurt, and it was like his body completely forgot how to breathe. His arm hurt when he reached over for his phone on his nightstand. Despite how much the screen made his brain throb behind his eyes, his fingers knew by muscle memory which numbers to dial.
His thumb hovered over the green dial button. Logically, he knew he shouldn't call him. He didn't want to be a bother. He had class. He was in college. He was hours away. He was busy. He was the only person Kenma wanted next to him right now.
It only took two rings before he picked up.
"Kenma? What's up?" Kuro said through the phone. His voice was a small comfort, a healing little addition to his depleting health bar. "It's really late. I thought you'd be resting after your stream earlier."
"Kuro…" Kenma cringed, cleared his throat.
"What's wrong?" Immediately he could hear the worry in his voice. "Are you alright? Jesus, you sound awful."
Kenma held the phone tighter. "I think… I think I might be sick…"
"Sick?!" Kenma heard a clatter on the other end of the call. "Shit. Are you okay? How bad is it? Do I need to call an ambulance?"
"It's not that bad…"
"You wouldn't be calling if it wasn't that bad!"
"My head just hurts… really bad. My throat hurts. My body is aching all over. I can't breathe through my nose…"
"Christ, you're dying."
Kenma picked at his fingernails. "…'m not dying."
"Hang tight. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Kenma's eyes blinked a little more awake. "… What? Don't you have class tomorrow?"
Kuro huffed. "Yeah, one. I can miss one class. You're more important."
"… Don't be ridiculous…" Kenma sniffed, before sneezing into his blanket. He acknowledged Kuro's "bless you" with a weak hum. He took a second to catch his breath before continuing. "You're… hours away. I can take care of myself."
His stomach grumbled in protest. He tried to ignore it. He shouldn't keep being a burden to Kuro like this.
"I'm only an hour away now." Ah, Kenma remembers Kuro got himself a car recently. "Don't worry about it and stay in bed until I get there, yeah?"
"But…"
Kenma heard the sound of an engine starting. "Don't be ridiculous," Kuro said in the same tone of voice Kenma did, which made him pout. "You and I both know you can't take care of yourself."
Kenma chuffed. "Sure I can."
"No, you can't."
"Yes I can."
"No, you can't."
"Yes I…" He was interrupted by another coughing fit.
That made Kuro audibly concerned. "Kenma! Christ. Just- hang on. I'll be right there. Okay?"
"… Okay."
Kenma put his phone next to his pillow, breathing shallowly. He closed his eyes and felt almost a hundred, no, a thousand fists pounding at his skull. He mentally admonishes himself for all those hours in front of a screen. But… Kuro would be here soon. That thought made his eyelids finally close shut.
—x—
Kenma woke up to his door opening from how lightly he slept.
The world was still slightly spinning, tilting a little to the left when he heard shuffling and objects being moved around in his room, and then a familiar weight dipped the bed next to him.
He felt Kuro's hand brush his hair back before he saw him. "Hey," he said.
Kenma blearily blinked up at him. "… You're an idiot." He's not sure if he meant Kuro or himself.
Kuro made a show of clenching his heart. "I come all this way and this is the thanks I get?"
"I didn't ask you to come here…" Kenma's voice came out quieter than he intended, and his eyes flicked away.
"Yeah, well, that's the thing. You never need to ask," Kuro said it like it was obvious.
Kenma felt his cheeks go hot. It was the fever. "Don't blame me if you fail your classes."
"Have you no faith in me? One absence is nothing, not with a brain like mine. C'mere." He touched Kenma's sweaty forehead and cursed under his breath. Kenma watched him move around in his room with a familiar ease to rummage in his closet. He came back with a pair of pajamas and a shirt that was a little too big.
Kuroo paused. "Is this mine?"
"Mm."
Kuroo went back over to him with a lopsided smile. "When'd you steal this?"
"… I don't remember." He did. He stole that when Kuroo stayed over for the last time before he moved out for college.
Kuroo shook his head. "Come on, get up, you big baby. You don't wanna sleep in your own sweat."
—x—
The warm bowl was a relief to Kenma's clammy hands. He blew on the soup, the steam fanning his face and clearing some congestion in his nose. He could smell the soup better, however slightly. It was so familiar.
As the soup went down his throat, he felt the warmth spreading throughout his body.
"Feeling better?" Kuro asked, his body perched behind Kenma protectively, like a warm bean bag that was only for him. His larger hand was a comforting weight on Kenma's waist.
"Yeah." Kenma let his head fall back against Kuro's shoulder before he could think too hard about it.
Kuro huffed but didn't move away.
It's been too long since Kuro was this close.
Kenma had been holding onto a thread made of latenight check-ins and daily texts, but that thread had begun to fray a while ago when Kenma couldn't find the familiar, comforting sight of Kuro's back ahead of him. Latenight calls didn't have the added effect of Kuro's breath close to his skin, conversations in his messaging app didn't have his hand drawing circles on Kenma's waist like this.
"Woah, careful." Kenma didn't notice he was beginning to doze off until Kuro steadied the bowl that was slipping in his hands. "Don't wanna burn yourself, sleepyhead."
Kenma grumbled, turning over to hug Kuro properly when he took the bowl from his hands to put it on the nightstand. Kuro's chest vibrated again along with his short laughter and Kenma buried himself into him even more.
"Kuro."
"Mm?"
"I'm sorry for calling you all the way here."
Kuro shushed him with a kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry about it. Really."
"… But you—"
"You think I'll ever want to leave you alone?"
Kenma sniffed, some warmth on the corners of his eyes. He shook his head. Kuro kissed away the tears that hadn't formed yet.
"No more of that. Okay?"
"… Okay."
Kenma sealed the moment with a light kiss to Kuro's lips, which he gladly returned.
"You're gonna catch my sick."
"Then I can stay here longer," Kuroo grinned. Kenma couldn't hold back his own little smile.
They settled underneath Kenma's quilt blanket. Kenma sighed, this was the most comfortable he's felt in a while. He didn't want to move anymore. He wanted to stay, just like this—content, warm, safe, for however long they could. Wanted him all to himself just like he did before.
Maybe Kuro will catch his cold. Maybe it'll make him stay for a little longer.
Kenma smiled at the childish thought. He closed his eyes and listened to Kuro's steady heartbeat, and finally fell asleep.