kiyoomishy ! 💌

kiyoomishy ! 💌



#sakuatsu | mini sickfic, ft msby!atsumu and uni!kiyoomi “omiiiii…” he whines into his phone, “‘m /sick/.” “yes, i know,” kiyoomi sighs, “you’ve told me thirteen times in the past twenty minutes.” atsumu pouts at that, not that his boyfriend can see. “i hate +

bein’ sick.” “atsu, you’ll be fine. just stay hydrated, take your meds and get some rest, okay? shit, i have to go.” “wait, is that a train in the back? where’re ya goin’?” “you’re delirious,” he deadpans. “there’s no train. you’re hearing things. go back to sleep. i’ll call +

you later, baby, promise.” atsumu hears the dial tone. kiyoomi hung up. ouch. ☀︎ one of the few things atsumu hates more than being sick is the fact that his relationship with kiyoomi is still long-distance. of course he’s proud of his him for choosing +

to go to university (although he can’t even count the number of times he’s gotten a text at ass o’clock at night from him, saying that he WILL drop out if he has to do “one more god-forsaken assignment”), but it’s times like this when he wishes kiyoomi was here with him, and +

not 500-ish kilometres away. (honestly, he’s not 100% sure if he /would/ be here if he could be — atsumu’s not sure kiyoomi likes him enough to look past the germs and general gross-ness of him having a cold. but like, a man can dream, alright?) it’s not even the worst cold +

he’s ever had (shoutout to a certain miya osamu for infecting him with the worst flu he’d ever had when he was 12 — he was convinced he was going to actually /die/), it’s just worse because… he’s lonely. he misses kiyoomi. they haven’t had a chance to meet up in weeks, and it +

fucking sucks. atsumu sniffles — because of the cold, he’s not crying (not right now, at least) — and tries his best to go back to sleep. he already feels like shit (thank you, germs) and he doesn’t want to make it worse by having a minor breakdown over how lonely he is. ☀︎

the knocking on his door wakes him up. great. he only got a couple hours of sleep, and he had no intention of waking up until the stuffiness in his nose and throat and head and everywhere went away. groaning, he rolls out of bed, bringing the blanket with him to wrap around +

himself. the door knocks again while he’s walking to it. “alright, ‘m comin’!” atsumu calls out. “c’mon, let a guy breathe, jus’ hold on, for fuck’s sa-“ stood in front of him is sakusa kiyoomi, in the flesh. “omi-kun? what’re ya doin’ here?” “surprise. are you going to +

let me in, or…” atsumu shuffles backwards, giving kiyoomi enough space to walk in. he shuts the door behind him, kisses the top of atsumu’s head and casually walks into the kitchen, leaving atsumu to stand there, dumbfounded. “i made you soup. and brought extra meds, and +

sports drinks — yes, the orange flavour, don’t worry — and those shitty little candies you like, and— wait, are you /crying/?” kiyoomi exclaims as he turns and looks at him. “no! i mean, yes! i mean — it doesn’t matter!” he aggressively wipes his eyes with the palm of his +

hands. “how the shit are ya here right now?!” “…the train?” kiyoomi offers unhelpfully. “ya /know/ that’s not what i meant!” kiyoomi walks over to where he’s stood — still near the front door — and takes atsumu’s hands in his own. “when i got your text last night that you +

thought you might be getting sick, i bought a train ticket to here, for when my classes were over,” he explains, “is that better?” atsumu feels his eyes well up and hides his face in kiyoomi’s chest, who rubs his back through the blanket comfortingly. “weren’t ya busy or +

somethin’?” he mumbles into kiyoomi’s hoodie. “doesn’t matter,” kiyoomi says quietly, “you’re more important. and besides, you’re pretty pathetic when you’re sick.” “oi!” “hey, don’t even try and deny it. you would’ve called me or osamu to complain every 10 minutes, and you +

definitely wouldn’t be eating right, so i had to make sure you do.” atsumu looks up at him. his eyes are getting puffy, his nose is red, and he looks downright awful. despite it all, kiyoomi smiles at him and gives him a kiss on the forehead. “thanks,” he whispers, “fer +

takin’ care of me.” “of course. now come on, i’ll heat up the food for you.” the ‘i love you’ remains unspoken but, hidden under the ‘i’ll take care of you’, atsumu knows it’s there. —— ☀︎

i have a cold. i have no kiyoomi to bring me soup. i might cry. also if there’s any typos or grammar thins or whatever it’s because im sick don’t b mean 2 me

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