tendou week day 7: free day (sickfic)
it's like his body is time gated, slowly unlocking with each passing moment.
first comes the senses – the soft mattress against his back, the thin blankets draped over his body, the thin cotton pajamas doing nothing to protect him from the cold room.
second comes movement – twitching fingers, wriggling toes, gnashing teeth. his head rolls across the pillow, a flat thing from too many heads resting on it. tendou opens his eyes.
and faces an absolute beast of a man.
listen, he knows what he's attracted to - muscles, stoicism, eyes that reflect the soul - and this man has it all. the mysterious man straightens in his seat, dressed in expensive athleisure, eyes softening. "satori." the name glides like melted chocolate. "you're awake."
tendou blinks at him, wonders if the angels sent him to collect his soul. "am i, or am i actually dead?"
"no, you're very much awake. we wouldn't be conversing if you weren't, and your heartbeat is faster than when you were asleep."
ah. so, it is. there's an iv inserted in his vein that he spares a glance at before turning to his keeper. "if i'm alive, then where did you come from?"
the man's brows crinkle slightly. "the washroom. i apologize for stepping out at such a crucial moment-"
"probably to commune with the angels," tendou murmurs. "to tell them you're here to claim my soul."
"i have not claimed it, for we are not married yet, so your soul is free to wander, if you find i am insufficient. however," the man says emphatically, "i hope that isn't the case, since i am quite enamored with you.”
not only is this man hot beyond belief, stoic as a rock, and expressive to a fault, he's also smart. wow.
wait. "we?"
"yes."
"who?"
"you and i."
tendou tilts his head. "do we...know each other?" how the hell did he bag such a unit of a man? did he woo him with chocolate? was it the red hair?
"yes." the man pauses. "i was told the anesthesia might affect your memory. this must be what the doctor meant."
that's too many words in too little space. tendou, the intelligent man he is, says, "uh-huh."
"you've no idea what i mean."
"no. do i have to, when you're here?"
something shifts in the man's eyes, warmth like sun through the clouds. "do you remember what happened?"
he glances at himself. tendou doesn't regularly visit the hospital, so to be tucked in, have an iv in his vein, and dressed in a gown is... "no."
"your appendix burst. at the game."
"we were playing video games?"
"no." the man is infinitely patient. "a volleyball game. you were watching when it happened, and goshiki called the ambulance – he, ah, is our friend. i rushed here as soon as the game ended."
that explains the athleisure, although he could be in his underwear and tendou would thank him. "oh, that's fun. better my appendix than spleen, eh?"
"please do not rupture your spleen. it is irreplaceable."
"i think you're irreplaceable." is that a blush on the man's cheeks? tendou wriggles across the bed, feeling his stitches shift, a dull pain in his gut. that definitely confirms someone sliced him open. “how did a volleyball player end up with a chocolatier? who confessed first?”
“you confessed at the end of high school. it appears you harbored feelings for me.”
“and you didn’t?”
“i did not know such feelings existed until after you left for paris.” the man looks at him, concern laced across his furrowed brow. “you look tired. you should get some rest.”
tendou resists the urge to close his eyes despite the heavy weight pressing upon them. “don’t wanna…if i do, you might not be there…”
“i will. i’ve used the restroom, and my team is informed of my whereabouts. i won’t leave you.”
“you should marry me, then,” tendou mumbles, the world growing blurry around him. “if you’re going to make a promise like that, marry me.”
there is a brief pause, followed by warm fingers wrapping around his. “i should, then.”
he falls asleep. in the fading darkness, he realizes he never asked the man for his name.
--
when he wakes again, it’s later at night. a reflection of the hospital room is framed by the window, largely covered by his boyfriend, ramrod on the stool, reading a book of some sort. tendou rolls his head to blink at him, voice hoarse when he says, “wakatoshi-kun.”
ushijima snaps to attention, lowering his book, leaning forward. “satori.”
“you’re still here?”
“i said i’ll remain while you rested. you don’t remember?”
tendou blinks once. twice. three times. “uh.”
“you also said if i were to promise to stay while you slept, i should marry you.”
“uh.”
“nor did you recognize me,” ushijima continues. “i assume it was because of the anesthesia’s effect, which seems to have worn off now. do you think you could eat? i’ll call for the nurse–“
he raises a hand to stop him, lowers it back onto the bed. then, very intelligently, he says, “uh.”
ushijima remains patient, a fountain of timelessness when it comes to his boyfriend. tendou wraps his fingers weakly through the thin sheets, quiet when he says, “forget what i said when i was delirious.”
“you didn’t act delirious.”
“i was high. same thing.”
“they aren’t.”
“wakatoshi-kun.” he lets out a sigh. “you know what i mean. the whole thing about marriage was out of my ass. you don’t have to take it seriously.”
his boyfriend is quiet for a moment, expression betraying nothing. “but what if i already did?”
“you- what?”
“i would rather not propose while you’re still unwell. let’s wait until you’ve recovered before we discuss this further.”
tendou stares at him incredulously, but ushijima simply reaches for his hand and brings it to his lips for a chaste kiss. “so, get better, okay?” and who is tendou to not obey?
