Hello! This is my first fan fiction ever, so while it may not be the greatest piece of writing, I hope someone will enjoy it :)
I want to continue it, but I'm not sure where I want it to go, so it's rated K+ for now. That may change in the future.

Junjou Romantica is the property of Nakamura Shingiku.

Shinobu coughed again. The boy's shoulders shook with effort as he wheezed, unable to catch his breath. Just when he finally appeared to be through the fit, he broke out into it again. Miyagi felt a sharp pang in his chest as he watched his lover struggle to breathe normally.

"Shinobu?" he called softly as leaned over the boy. Miyagi sat on the edge of his bed, his hands locked together tightly as he tried to keep panic from rising. Shinobu was wrapped in a thick layer of blankets on Miyagi's bed; the huge quilts made the boy look even smaller than he was. Miyagi unlocked his fingers to softly brush Shinobu's damp hair away from his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Shinobu blushed and scowled.

"It's just a cold old man. I'll be fine tomorrow."

Miyagi frowned, worry creasing his brow. He had seen Shinobu sick before, but it had never been like this. Shinobu had not risen from Miyagi's bed or consumed anything but water for over 36 hours. Plus, Shinobu was never one to sit, much less lie, still even when he felt under the weather.

Shinobu ducked his head under the blankets suddenly and coughed again, a deep guttural choke. The whole bed shook with his efforts and Miyagi wrung his hands together, completely unsure of what to do. When Shinobu poked his head out again, Miyagi saw an expression in the boy's grey eyes that he had never before seen there; he saw fear.

"I-I'm fine, Miyagi" Shinobu rasped. He seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. Miyagi pressed his hand to the side of Shinobu's face. It was scorching. Shinobu whimpered at his touch, shuddering slightly.

"Miyagi, y-your h-hands are c-cold…"

Miyagi lifted his hand to touch it to his own cheek. His hand was relatively warm; perhaps a degree or two colder than it should have been, as the air conditioner did not seem to favor Miyagi's bedroom, but nothing that would make Shinobu shiver like he did.

Shinobu began his cough once again, curling up on his side and clutching his chest from the intensity of it. The spell lasted much longer this time, and Shinobu was gasping intensely when it finally subsided. When his breathing returned to normal, he rolled back over onto his back and looked up at Miyagi. Shinobu's eyes were wide and wet.

"M-Miyagi" he whispered, still trembling. "Miyagi, I'm scared."

Miyagi thought his heart was going to crack inside of his chest. He had never seen Shinobu like this. Shinobu was always so strong. Miyagi found himself repeatedly amazed at his lover's strength. He supposed it could be called stubbornness, but whatever it was, Miyagi loved him for it. Now Shinobu seemed utterly fragile.

He tucked the blankets back up under Shinobu's chin and slid off the bed onto the floor so he could be eye level with Shinobu. He smoothed out the crease in the blankets from where he was sitting, at a complete loss on what to do. Shinobu's eyes shook with tears and a soft whine spilled forth from his lips.

"Shinobu" Miyagi choked out, his voice thick with desperation. "What should I- how can I…" His display of stoic courage was quickly crumbling. He had not felt such helplessness since Sensei's death. Memories he wished he thought he had finally forgotten came trickling back. Miyagi, just a foolish high school boy, had to watch the woman he loved grow sicker and sicker, powerless to stop it. He touched Shinobu's feverish cheek. Shinobu slid his hand up from beneath the mountain of blankets and covered the hand that was on his face. He turned to look at Miyagi, a tear falling from his eye in the process. Miyagi felt a hard lump build in his throat; the feeling of helplessness was crushing him.

"Miyagi" Shinobu whispered. "I'm so cold. H-hold me…"

Miyagi blanched, tightening his free hand into a fist and then releasing it again.

"Shinobu…how can you ask me to- how can I…when you're so sick like this, I can't—"

Shinobu's looked confused momentarily, and then he laughed. It was weak and hoarse, but Miyagi felt a huge weight lift from his chest at the sound.

"No you stupid old man" Shinobu murmured. "J-just hold me, so I will be warm…and can fall asleep…"

Miyagi smiled softly at his Shinobu. Even in the midst of sickness, almost delirious with fever, he could still tell his lover exactly what he wanted.

"Of course, Shinobu" he whispered back, lifting his sweater over his head and picking Shinobu a little ways off the bed so he could lie down next to him.

Shinobu pressed his forehead against Miyagi's bare chest, releasing a soft sigh at the skin which was cool in comparison to his burning flesh, yet warm and comfortable with the familiar scent of Miyagi's cigarette infused cologne.

"Stupid old man" Shinobu mumbled again. "A professor of literature can't even read context clues…"

Miyagi smirked and lightly stroked the top of Shinobu's head. The boy's breathing became even and deep. Miyagi breathed a sigh of relief and smiled; happy he could finally help the one he loved.

What do you guys think? I've never written anything like this before, so reviews are really, truly appreciated!
Please let me know if you think the characters were OOC, or anything I can do to improve.
Thank you for reading.