hii you said that requests were open so i was wondering if you’d want to write an iwaoi sick fic? like it’s a middle of a practice match agaisnt some school and oikawa feels sick but doesn’t tell anyone beforehand?
Hello and thank you for the request!! I hope this is kinda what you wanted. I tried :) sorry it took me a minute!
An Off Day: an IwaOi Sick fic
Pairing: Sick Oikawa, Caretaker Iwaizumi
Words: ? (I didn’t get a count sorry—longer though)
Warnings: fever, passing out, cursing
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It was a dull day.
Oikawa sat in class, his head resting on his palm, and everything just felt faded. Existing as a human today seemed like entirely too much work.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but his entire day, his surroundings, his overall demeanor— none of them were as vivid and bright as usual. Things were just...off.
He felt off.
A lethargic and overall blah feeling clung to him like a thick winter coat, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe and leaving his head muddled. He didn’t know what was going on with his body and it was incredibly frustrating.
Oikawa scoffed to himself, ignoring the curious side eye from the girl next to him, and resolutely decided to ignore the dull, blah feeling. Surely if he willed himself to feel less blah, then that would put the pep back in his step. Besides, this was his last class of the day and then it was time for practice.
They were playing some no-name, no-skill team in what Oikawa deemed a “charity” practice match. For the other team, it would be a learning experience. For Seijoh, it would be another victory to add to their running total.
Class finally ended and he stood up to head to the club room. Immediately, his knees buckled and black spots danced in his vision. A small hand grasped his upper arm and held him steady. Once the spots cleared, he saw the small girl who sits next to him looking up at him, concern etched into her face.
“Oikawa-san? You look pale. You should go home and rest. I’m sure they’ll be okay without you at practice today.” He shook his head.
“I just got up too fast. Thank you for helping me out,” he smiled and she hesitantly let his arm go. She nodded, grabbed her bag, and left the classroom.
Oikawa, much to his dismay, was still dizzy though. He placed his hands on his desk and ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut while he waited for it to pass.
In the club room, he met up with Iwaizumi and chatted with his other teammates here and there, resolutely ignoring the fatigue thay plagued him.
Warm-ups came and went and their coach went over the rotation for the practice match. All the while, the lethargy he felt never went away like he thought it would. In fact, it seemed to be increasing and there was now a dull, consistent thudding in his head. Maybe it was more than just an off day? Maybe something was wrong?
He didn’t get much time to explore the new thoughts, because the other team arrived and their practice match began. Oikawa was right; the other team wasn’t a challenge in the slightest. The fact that it was any easy game didn’t make him feel any better about his complete lack of game.
Nearly every single one of his sets was wrong. Too high or too low. Too far left or right. The ball wasn’t settling in his fingers the way he needed it too and it all irritated him to no end.
He couldn’t concentrate. Every now and then, the court tilted dangerously sideways and he had to consciously ground his feet to bring it back to equilibrium. He was starting to feel weak. His limbs weighed about 1,000 lbs, making every lift of his arms to set the ball or movement of his legs to cross the court a Herculean effort. All he wanted was to curl up on the ground and take a nap.
“Hey, you okay?” Matsu walked up to him during a break between serves and put a hand on his shoulder. He was frowning. Oikawa glowered at him.
Was he okay? No. Of course not. He was 98% sure that he had a fever. Would that stop him from playing? No. Of course not. This was an easy team to beat. If he couldn’t push through this, then he wasn’t worth anything to his team.
“Yeah. Fine.” He snapped. Matsuhana put his hands up and backed away. Play resumed.
It was just a cold. He could shake this feeling if he just pushed through it hard enough. If Oikawa was confident of anything, it was his ability to ignore negative feelings and punch through bad moods.
That confidence slowly drained out of Oikawa along with any energy and focus he may have had the longer the game continued.
The two teams switched sides of the court and Iwaizumi appeared at his side.
“Hey, what’s the deal? You okay? We should have taken this set a long time ago,” he grumbled, his usual grumpy tone setting all of Oikawa’s already frazzled nerves even more on edge. His lip curled as he glanced over at his best friend.
“Thanks, Iwa-chan, I didn’t realize,” he sneered. Iwa’s eyes widened and he blinked comically. Oikawa would have made a joke if he wasn’t feeling so shitty.
“Don’t take it out on me, Trashykawa,” Iwa’s eyes narrowed, “your sets have been off all match.”
Oikawa felt like he was slapped in the face because he knew that. Of course he was more than aware that not a single one of his sets hit their mark yet. It was eating away at him and it made his stomach churn. He could do this though. He would not let his team down.
“I know,” he muttered. Iwa’s face changed again, but Oikawa’s vision blurred and he couldn’t make out what expression the ace had. He walked away.
“Oi, come back here a seco—“ Iwa started but was cut off by their coach.
“Iwaizumi! You gonna stand around and talk all day or are you gonna let us resume the match?”
He glanced one more time at Oikawa before getting into position. Oikawa thought maybe he looked concerned or upset or something, but he honestly didn’t have the energy to figure it out. It was all he could do to stand up right.
The set continued and each passing second was an eternity to Oikawa. Black spots popped up more frequently and he had to squeeze his eyes shut quickly and exhale to keep himself from passing out. It was a losing battle.
The dull thud in his head grew into a steady pounding that took up residence behind his eyes, leaving him vaguely nauseated. It was getting harder to breathe, even though he wasn’t running around like he normally would be. The gym swirled and he blinked several times, but it wasn’t going back to normal. The sounds of shouting and squeaking shoes faded away, replaced by a strange roaring sound.
Oikawa realized very quickly that he was in serious trouble.
“Oikawa!” Wataru’s shout cut through the roaring and sent a sharp pain through his head. As quickly as it left, the roaring in his ears returned and with it, his vision completely blacked out. It took all his effort to call out for help.
“Iwa-cha—“ the sound got caught in his throat and his body crumpled to the floor.
The next thing he knew, Oikawa was staring at the ceiling. He blinked a few times and groaned. The lights beaming down on him reminded him of the migraine he definitely had and he shivered. Why was he on the ground?
“Tooru? Oh thank god,” Iwa’s face entered his field of vision (and blocked the light, thankfully). His voice was shaking and desperate, adding to Oikawa’s confusion.
“Iwa-chan?” He said feebly.
“Are you okay? What hurts? Fuck, Tooru. You scared the shit out of me,” Iwaizumi was frantic, his hands cupping Oikawa’s face, making the sick boy cringe. Touching was no good. He didn’t want that right now.
The corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth pulled down and his eyebrows scrunched. He moved one of his hand’s to Oikawa’s forehead and the other to his own. His eyes blew wide.
“Holy shit, Tooru! Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick, dumbass?”
Oh. He’d been caught.
“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?” He smiled weakly up at his best friend, who scoffed in return.
“Idiot,” he mumbled before turning his head towards somewhere above Oikawa. The lights pierced Oikawa’s vision and he moaned when his head pulsated. He tried to curl up, but Iwaizumi was already trying to get him standing.
“Coach, he’s got a fever,” Iwaizumi shouted across the gym and Oikawa’s knees buckled. Luckily, Iwa’s arms were securely around his waist.
“I’m gonna take him to the club room and call one of our moms to come pick us up. Do you need me here?”
“No, go take care of our idiot captain,” their coach responded, his arms crossed over his chest. Normally, Oikawa would’ve squaked at the insult, but it was taking all of his attention to stay awake.
“We got this man. Go handle the child,” Makki snickered.
“Mean, Makki,” Oikawa managed to whine as he and Iwa stumbled out of the gym.
By the time they got back to the club room, Oikawa was sweating profusely, panting, and leaning almost all of his weight on Iwaizumi.
Iwa led them to the back of the clubroom and guided them down to sit against the wall. Oikawa shivered and immediately curled into Iwa’s side.
“How the hell did you let it get so bad, Shittykawa,” Iwa questioned. His tone held more concern than malice and it settled Oikawa’s nerves ever so slightly.
“Mmm, so warm Iwa-chan,” was all Oikawa could respond with. Iwaizumi scoffed, but threw an arm around Oikawa’s shoulder and pulled him closer anyway. The setter smiled.
“Yo, who should I call?” Iwaizumi asked, his tone still lacking its normal gruffness.
“Everyone in my family is working right now, Iwa-chan. No one is going to pick up,” Oikawa said. His throat was getting sore now. That means he’s sick sick. He frowned. Another shiver shot up his spine.
Iwa sighed, “okay. I’ll call my mom. She won’t be able to get here for at least half an hour though. Will you be okay until then? We can take the bus if you want.”
Oikawa nuzzled into Iwa’s shoulder. The smallest hints of his cologne were still present, despite getting sweaty from practice.
“No. No bus. We’ll want for Auntie, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll call her.”
“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa yawned. His eyes started drifting closed. Man, did a nap sound perfect right now.
“Don’t apologize, Tooru. Just scared me,” Iwa muttered and Oikawa felt the ace’s nose nuzzle into the top of his head. He relaxed further, in spite of the chills running through his body.
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when my mom gets here,” Iwa whispered and Oikawa couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so soft. At least towards him anyway. Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa down gently so the setter’s head was pillowed on his lap.
Oikawa fell asleep to Iwaizumi’s gentle hands carding through his hair.
