Title: Winter Song
Words: 1393 words
Prompt: Izaya's sick with a cold, but he refuses to tell Shizuo about it. Well, the latter finds out.
Disclaimer: It's not mine. It all belongs to others who I am in no way associated with and I make nothing from writing this, got it?
The pounding headache he had when he woke up made him duck back under the covers, especially since the bright light shining in through the gaps in the curtains only exacerbated it. Of course, the sudden movement aggravated his already raw throat and he wound up curling up into a tight ball as he coughed.
His head throbbed when he stopped and he rubbed at his throat to try and soothe the ache.
Everything hurt. His joints were stiff and his entire body felt like he'd been hit by a truck. He also felt exhausted even though he'd slept like the dead for the entire night. And he was cold.
Shivering, he curled up under the blankets and pulled them snugly around him. This triggered another violent coughing fit that left him gasping for breath.
The buzzing of his phone on the night stand broke him out of his misery. Izaya groaned and extended a shaking hand from his cocoon and groped around the night stand for a few seconds until his fingers finally found his phone. He flipped it open and pulled it close so that he could read the message he'd just received.
At least no one was trying to call him. Yet.
Izaya grumbled darkly as his shaking fingers fumbled at the keys as he tried to type up a reply. He frowned and coughed as the message read like he was drunk off his ass.
-i aM nOw-
He could've gone back and tried to make it look like he wasn't randomly pressing keys, but he was shaking so badly that he didn't think he could manage anything better. He fumbled with the send button for a couple of seconds before he hit it and dropped the phone onto the bed beside him and curled up, breaking down into coughs again.
The phone buzzed again a few minutes later.
-How do you feel?-
He wanted to add: Please stop texting me so I can die now. But that seemed a little rude since he was currently curled up in Shizuo's bed and at his mercy. Though Shizuo would probably be a better 'nurse' than Namie was.
-Just picking a few things up for you. Will be back soon.-
Chucking his phone out of bed, it hit the floor with a dull thud. Izaya rolled over, coughing, and pulled the blankets back around him tightly. He wanted to sleep badly, but whenever he started to drift off, he'd start to cough. It was ridiculous. And Izaya hated being sick.
He managed to push himself into a semi-sitting position when he heard the front door bang open. The move made him hunch over to cough, leaving him gasping for breath at the end of it.
There was a knock at the bedroom door, making him look up at Shizuo with blurry eyes. He collapsed back against the bed with a weak cough in greeting. His throat felt too raw to bother with even trying to talk.
Shizuo walked over, setting a Styrofoam bowl with accompanying plastic lid on the night stand. He had a plastic bag from a nearby pharmacy in his other hand. Before he moved away, he reached down and pressed his hand against Izaya's forehead.
Izaya shivered. Shizuo's hand felt like ice against his skin. He leaned into it, though, realizing that his fever was higher than he'd thought it was.
"You're burning up," Shizuo murmured, fingers trailing across his forehead. "Hang on, let me take your temperature..."
He dropped the bag on the night stand beside the bowl and dashed off across the hall to the bathroom. Izaya heard some muffled curses and muttering alongside the sounds of things being shifted around and crashing to the ground. He managed a small smile.
Eventually, he heard Shizuo let out an exclamation of success. That was quickly followed by the sound of plastic crinkling and Shizuo appearing back in the bedroom doorway.
"Found it." He grinned, "It was still in the wrapper."
"S'not fair..." Izaya groused, his voice sounding rough and speaking irritated his throat. It already felt like someone had taken sandpaper to his throat. "... you don't... get sick..."
"Thought that was cause I was a 'monster,' Izaya." He was grinning, though, as he spoke, and he gently helped Izaya sit up. He held the thermometer in front of him like one would a spoon to an infant. "Say 'ah.'"
Izaya glared at him, but opened his mouth anyway. He didn't have enough strength to put up much of a fight – or argue, for that matter. He tucked the tip of thermometer under his tongue once Shizuo had popped it in his mouth. It took a few minutes for the thermometer to beep.
Shizuo pulled it back out and examined it, "Not bad; only 37.8º C. I got you something for the cough and your throat, though."
Izaya made a face, the taste of metal and plastic still on his tongue. He wrinkled his nose and coughed.
"I'll grab some more pillows then you can eat and have some of the medicine I got," Shizuo said, smiling. He tucked the thermometer back into its plastic case and setting it down on the night stand.
After a couple of minutes during which Shizuo pilfered pillows from around his apartment to prop Izaya up on, he pulled the plastic lid off the bowl of soup he'd brought back for Izaya. Then he went into the kitchen to make some of the NeoCitran that he'd bought for him.
The soup had cooled off significantly from the steaming hot temperature it had been when Shizuo had brought it in. It came with a large plastic spoon that Izaya fumbled with for a few seconds since his hands were still trembling a bit and he had to be very careful not to spill any of it when he coughed.
But the warmth felt good and it soothed the ragged ache in his throat. The shivering stopped being as violent and he felt a little bit warmer than he had before.
Shizuo returned a few minutes later, carrying a still steaming mug in one hand. He set that down on the night stand before leaning over to press a quick kiss against Izaya's temple.
"I've got work to do, but I'll be back around dinner time. Will you be okay?"
Izaya nodded; he didn't really feel up to anything beyond finishing the soup, drinking the medicine he'd been given, and then sleeping for a very long time. He was comfortable and warm – but not too warm – and his throat felt a little less raw then when he woke up.
The smile Shizuo gave him was a very sweet one and Izaya blushed; but since he was flushed with a fever, he doubted that Shizuo would notice that. That's another thing he hates being sick: He has difficulties filtering his reactions. The last time he was sick, Shizuo spent the entire time teasing him about how cuddly he was; it wasn't his fault, though. He was just cold!
"Alright, let me know if you need anything."
With one more quick kiss, this time to the cheek, Shizuo was gone. Izaya could hear the door close behind him as he left.
He looked back at his soup and sighed before lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking the entire thing. It just wasn't as good when it was lukewarm. Setting aside the bowl, he looked over at the still-steaming mug of medicine and sighed.
Covering his mouth, he was wracked by another violent coughing fit. Once it was over, and Izaya was breathing heavier before and his throat feeling raw again, he reached out for the mug and carefully blew at it a few times before sipping at it and making a disgusted face.
Of course Shizuo would get the lemon flavour – and it's disgusting, Izaya thinks – and then not put any sugar in at all. It's just like him. He hardly ever gets sick, so he doesn't have to deal with the absolutely horrible taste of medicine; he just knows the motions and what to do, he doesn't actually know anything about the experience.
Izaya sighed and glared down at the pale yellow liquid. Now he was just being petty.
Scratching at his neck, Izaya sighed again and started to slowly sip at the still too hot liquid. It was best to get this over with quickly.
At least he doesn't have to put up with Namie; Shizuo is, despite his flaws, a much better 'nurse' than her.