Disclaimer: I don't own His Favorite

Mornings never brought good news to Torachin. In fact they usually just threw him the sense of dread that came with going to school, trying not to pick a fight, and eventually getting into one anyway because people tested his patience far too often. Especially Yamanaka, the cheating playboy bastard. Why did he love him again? The question was a daily annoyance that always ended up answering itself whenever the other boy decided to be sweet. Soft touches, little gifts, and empty promises always lured him back.

This morning, however, was far worse than usual. Consciousness came with a figurative hammer pounding his skull, along with an overwhelming wave of nausea. Stuffy nose, dizziness, and a general feeling of "bleh". Torachin was sick, probably with the flu, which really shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He'd had a bit of a sniffle for the past couple days, and his date with Yamanaka that ended in them both being drenched by a sudden rainstorm didn't exactly help matters.

Despite this, Torachin got up for school. Some time ago, he would have just stayed at home…but he had Yamanaka now, and leaving that playboy alone even for a day was just asking for trouble. So went through his morning routine, albeit more slowly than usual as dizzy spells and black spots danced around him. Checking himself briefly in the mirror, Torachin knew he was a mess. His eyes were lined in black bags, skin a sickly pale, and the top of his shirt was left completely unbuttoned, with his tie loosened to prevent it from choking him. He'd probably get a lecture if people weren't so afraid of his face.

The walk to school dragged on forever. The sun was too bright for his eyes and his head, but he didn't feel like lifting an arm up to block the harsh rays. The building was, for once, a blessing to enter. The electric lights were duller and far less annoying. Switching to his indoor shoes, Torachin didn't waste any unnecessary energy by heading straight to class.

Yamanaka was next to the doorway, chatting up and obviously flirting with some poor girl that'd unfortunately caught his eye. Guess Torachin's suspicions were well-founded…time for some punishment.

"Yamanaka!" The playboy's eyes widened as he turned to face his seething boyfriend, already attempting to form some excuse.

"T-torachin! This-"

*Crash*

Before some overused line could be spoken, Torachin had already punched Yamanaka in the chest, knocking him onto the ground. The girl took the opportunity to run off, leaving the two to quarrel in the hallway.

"You bastard! Cheating scumbag!"

"Torachin, It's not-"

"'Not what it looks like'? Because it looks like you're flirting with some random girl again!"

"…Okay it's exactly what it looks like, but Torachin-" Yamanaka paused, scrutinizing his boyfriend more clearly. "Torachin…are you okay?"

"I'm fine you idiot, quit trying to change the sub-" A wave of dizziness suddenly cut off Torachin's train of thought. His vision was hazy, and breathing properly was suddenly much harder to achieve. The world tilted dangerously.

*Bam*

"Torachin!" A concerned scream was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

A calm warmth brought Torachin back to consciousness. Thin sheets scratched at his skin, and a window had been left open on his right side, allowing sunlight to stream in with the occasional breeze. The lights were turned off, but Torachin had been in here enough times to recognize that it was the nurse's office. Memories of how he'd gotten there briefly evaded him, he didn't remember getting in a brawl…

"Torachin!" Oh yeah, he'd gotten into another fight with Yamanaka. Torachin sat up in the cot, quickly realizing that was a poor idea when liquid sloshed in his throat. A small waste bin was shoved under his chin, not a moment too soon as he began to gag. In hindsight, it was a good choice to skip breakfast; each heave only brought up stomach acid.

A cool hand made soothing circles on his back, a small comfort between the waves. When all the acid had come up, dry heaves continued to plague him for about a minute before his stomach finally settled. He was shaking badly, suddenly cold and weak and tired. A paper cup filled with water was pressed against his lips.

"Even if you don't drink it, you should rinse your mouth out." Torachin sipped at the water, swirling it around in his mouth before spitting back into the bin. Another sip graced his burning throat with some relief. The bin was taken away, and a paper towel wiped at the corners of his mouth.

"You're such a mess, Torachin." Yamanaka remarked, throwing the towel out of sight and wrapping an arm around his delinquent boyfriend. "You should've stayed home if you were sick."

"Idiot…" Torachin rasped, nuzzling closer to the playboy's warmth. "I was worried."

"Worried?"

"About you, moron. If I left you alone-" Torachin paused, allowing a coughing fit to rattle through him. "You, you could've…ended up sleeping with some girl."

The arm around him stiffened for a moment. "That wouldn't happen, Torachin."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I'm yours." Torachin looked at Yamanaka with wide eyes. The other boy's eyes were, for once, serious. "No matter who comes along, I'm always yours."

"…"

"Are you ok, Torachin? You're looking a little flush-"

"S-shut up, idiot!"