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There was music playing through their apartment, something sweet and being played on a low volume, which, while usually not a terrible thing to wake up to, Kenma would’ve preferred to still be dead to the world than hear it right now.
Kenma squeezed his eyes shut in firm denial of his quickly wakening body, and oh, to what pain he was awakening to.
He had a headache, a terrible gross yucky no fun headache. Not his usual “I stayed up too late playing video games” headache or even his occasional “I forgot to take my Claritin again and now am suffering for my own hubris” headache.
No, Kenma knew what kind of headache this was, and he was quite opposed to what was soon going to be his reality. Migraines really fucking sucked.
“Kou,” Kenma said, it was quiet, much too quiet to be heard through their apartment walls, and scratchy with sleep or pain he didn’t really know or care. He braced himself for pain and raised his voice, “Kou, c’mere.”
“Hey baby, are you awake? I’m making breakfast! I was thinking pancakes today since we did bagels yesterday and traditional the day before and I kinda wanted something sweet, ya know? What do you think we should do to-”
Kenma hated to do it, he really did, enough people cut Koutarou off as it was, and he didn’t want to add to that number, but desperate times called for desperate measures and there was no time when Kenma was more desperate than migraine days.
“Kou, please, please be quiet.” Kenma nearly begged (Kenma never truly begged for anything, he just requested that the general masses do something, and they did because they knew what was good for them).
Koutarou had never gone quiet faster.
Kenma heard him setting a pan down in the kitchen, the clang made him flinch, the sudden burst of light from the opening door, however, made him dig his face into the covers with a whine and therefore took precedence.
“Ko-” Kenma went to say, but Koutarou was one step ahead of him and already shutting the door behind him (very, very gently to minimize any noise it may make).
“Oh, honey,” Koutarou said in a whisper, “your head?”
Kenma hummed in agreement, unable to do anything except keep his head in the pillow or risk expelling last night's dinner all over the sheets.
Koutarou did something which Kenma couldn’t see but that he knew like the back of his hand. They had a routine for days like this, a routine that worked well for both of them.
First, Kou would grab the Advil and a glass of water from the bathroom, leaving all of the lights off. While he was there he'd message anyone that was expecting them that they definitely weren't going to be anywhere outside the apartment for the foreseeable future. Then, on his way back from the bathroom, he'd turn on the diffuser (filled with lavender oil) before giving Kenma his medicine and leaving to make a cup of ginger tea after he ensured Kenma had taken the pills.
It was a good system and, beyond all else, predictable (which was great when Kenma’s head was pounding so hard he couldn’t even think). Today, however, Kenma had other plans.
When Kou came over to hand Kenma his "brain hurty away pills" he grabbed his hand and tugged.
Now, you may be thinking, Kenma is a highly intelligent individual. Why would he do something which was not only going to rock his entire being while he is suffering from severe nausea but also had a distinct chance of one hundred and ninety pounds of Olympic athlete landing on top of him?
To that, I respond that Kenma in pain is a creature of only its basest desires (said base desires include cuddling and heating pads with no room for silly things like common sense).
Kou, luckily for everyone involved, did not fall on top of Kenma but merely beside him. Unluckily for Kenma, the shaking of the bed sent Kenma curling up into a little roly-poly of pain with a quiet moan.
“Kenma,” Koutarou said with flapping unsure hands. He scrambled around on the bed, trying to situate himself without disturbing the ball of hurt that was his Fiancé.
“I just… I just want,” Kenma sighed before slowly releasing the tension in his body to roll into Koutarou’s side, “cuddle me for a little?”
Koutarou could have melted, Kenma wasn’t usually a big cuddler with or without a migraine, and Kou couldn’t have told Kenma no even if he wanted to. (It had only ever happened once when Kenma asked if Koutarou thought it would be a good idea for him to quit filming youtube videos, and in the end, Kenma hadn't really wanted to stop which Kou had known, so it was really like he hadn't even told him not to in the first place).
“Yeah, yeah baby, of course, I’ll cuddle with you. For however long you want.” Koutarou whispered into the top of his head. The size difference made the embrace look almost comical.
“And… Can you turn that song off too?” Kenma asked, “It’s a cute song, but it’s been playing for like 20 minutes, and it’s killing my head.”
“Oh, oh yeah definitely.”
Bokuto softly covered Kenma’s ears before half shouting, “Hey Alexa, Off!”
And like that they fell asleep, Kenma with a stabbing headache but a wonderful Fiancé to cuddle until it dimmed down enough for him to function, and Koutarou holding his favorite person in his arms, content to lay until Kenma was ready to get up.