This is the fifty-sixth sneeze today, and Yaku is really fucking annoyed. Of course he had to catch the flu. Of course he’d wake up with a burning, raw throat and a swollen nose a few days before Christmas. He could be practicing right now, helping his kouhai and improving his own skills. But instead, he’s stuck in a nest of three blankets, with fuzzy socks on his feet and a soft scarf around his neck.
It gets a bit better, though, once afternoon comes around - and them, his mother peeks into his room. “Honey? One of your teammates is here, he wants to see you!”
Yaku’s heart skips a beat. Oh no. What uf it’s - “Who…” his voice cracks miserably. “Don’t - ”
“Yaku-san, it’s me! Wow, you look really bad!”
A giant, bean-stalky figure tiptoes through his door and slumps onto his bed. Lev smiles at Yaku’s mother as she’s leaving, and then he immediately cups Yaku’s crimson face with his large hands.
“I’m so sorry that you’re sick! I know you need a lot of rest, and Kenma-san said that I’d just exhaust you if I came over, but I just had to!”
Yaku stares. He’s curled into a small circle but Lev still manages to give him a warm hug, and Yaku’s heart beats like thunder, a thousand butterflies in his stomach. Stupid, stupid crush, why does he like Lev so much, why is he speechless right now when Lev is so close - his lips -
“I brought you soup!” Lev abruptly pulls back and rummages through his backpack, gently placing a plastic pot on Yaku’s nightstand. “It’s really good, I helped my mum with making it. I…” He goes quiet, and pulls Yaku into another hug. “I hope you get well soon, Yaku-san. I miss you.”
Yaku can’t speak. He watches helplessly as Lev nervously tucks the blankets back around him, and his fingers come to rest on Yaku’s shoulders. And then, Lev leans in and kisses his forehead. It’s soft and quick, a warm touch of Lev’s mouth on his skin.
“Please go out with me when you’re not sick anymore! G-get some rest!” Lev’s face has turned a wonderful shade of red, and he rushes out of the room without looking back.
Yaku sits on his bed, touching his forehead, and fails not to smile. Maybe it’s good that he couldn’t speak. He has to get well even sooner now.
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