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firstkanaphans · 3 months

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i have this habit of reading ao3 before i sleep or i just won't get sleep (yeah i am a teenager with effed up sleep habits)

and i realised that there are not enough sickfics in the firstkhao fandom 😭😭 like there are a few under akkaye but nothing under sandray (i don't remember if there is anything under alangaipa cause there is probably nothing)

so obviously i have a request to my fav writer which is PLEASE GIVE ME SICKFICS DJDNDNNSJDND

the absolute tenderness of looking after your lover, trying to shield them from it all and them just clinging on to you... I WILL CRY

i would love to read any sickfic from you, be it any fk couple. hope you dont mind this request <3

Anon, I really hope you're still around to read this because I know it's been ages since you requested it, but look! I wrote you a SandRay sick!fic. I hope you enjoy 💕 Word Count: 2227

Ray was sick. Or, well, he had been.

For days he had been fighting off a bad case of the flu and although he had a tendency to become extra stubborn when he was ill, Sand took care of him without argument. He cooked Ray delicious homemade soup, washed the sweat from his body so that he wouldn’t get a chill, and made sure he never missed a dose of his medicine.

At the height of his illness, Ray had found Sand’s unwavering attention annoying since all he wanted to do was sleep, but now, as the fever started to abate, he realized just how lucky he had been. It didn’t seem fair that all of that attention had been wasted when Ray wasn’t alert enough to appreciate it. So even though he was feeling better, he pretended that he wasn’t.

He was sitting in bed propped up on a mountain of pillows when Sand walked into the room that night with his evening meds. Ray gave him a wobbly smile and then immediately dissolved into a coughing fit that was only half for show.

Sand frowned, setting the glass of water and pills he was carrying down onto Ray’s bedside table before climbing onto the mattress with him, his hand raised to feel Ray’s forehead. Ray just watched him, wide-eyed and innocent. He knew his cheeks were flushed, but it wasn’t from fever. He had spent the past couple minutes pinching them hard enough to color his skin. He wanted it to look convincing.

“You’re not feeling any better?” Sand asked, dropping his hand back to his side. “You look better. Whenever I touched you before, you would just yell and swat me away.”

“I feel a little better,” Ray allowed, blinking at his boyfriend owlishly.

“Well, if you’re not feeling a lot better by tomorrow, we may need to go back to the doctor. I’m worried about you.”

“There’s no need to worry,” Ray said, pulling on Sand’s arm so that he was forced to sit down on the bed next to him. “I’m fine!”

If this had been a normal day, Sand probably would have rolled his eyes, but because Ray was sick, he didn’t. He just wrapped his arm around Ray’s shoulders and held him tight. Although Ray liked their usual teasing banter, he liked this too. He liked being spoiled. He liked that Sand had been staying home to take care of him instead of running off to a bunch of different jobs he didn’t need. He liked how his illness sanded down Sand’s rough edges. He liked that at their essence, this was what they were: soft and in love. “Do we have any more ice cream?”

Sand dutifully brought Ray a bowl of ice cream and they spent the night cuddling in bed watching movies. Ray knew it was destined to be his last night of sick leave; in the morning, he would be forced to make a miraculous recovery. But, he had to admit, it was time.

Ray woke up with the sun only to find that Sand was still asleep next to him, which was odd. Sand was an early riser. Figuring he was simply exhausted from the days spent taking care of Ray, Ray leaned in to kiss him on the forehead only to find that he was burning up.

Ray pulled back in alarm, quickly replacing his lips with his hand, but the result was no better. Sand was sweltering hot to the touch. Too hot. Right? Ray wasn’t sure. He had never had to diagnose anyone before.

“Sand?” he said, shaking his boyfriend frantically. Sand would know what to do. Sand always did. “Sand, wake up. I think you’re sick!”

Sand very clearly did not want to wake up. He rolled away from Ray, buried his head underneath the covers, and started coughing. “Just bring me some medicine,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’ll be fine.”

Ray hopped out of bed immediately, determined to get the medicine for him as fast as possible, but it was only as he was standing alone in the middle of the room that he realized he had no idea where the medicine was kept. They had moved into this apartment together only a few weeks before. It would have been sooner, but Sand took some convincing because the apartment was technically way out of his budget.

In the end, Ray had worn him down, but Sand had adamantly refused to spend the extra money on movers, so they had done everything themselves. Or, well, Sand had. Ray had thanked him with copious amounts of blowjobs. It had seemed like a good system at the time, but now he had no idea where anything was.

He wandered into the bathroom and began looking through cabinets, figuring that was the most likely place for medicine to be, and eventually he found a couple bottles that looked familiar. They were empty.

Ray ran back into the bedroom, waving the bottles around frantically. “Sand, I think we’re out. What do I do now? Sand?” Sand was apparently too delirious to answer him. He wasn’t yet asleep, but his only response to Ray’s voice was a pained groan. Ray stared down at the bottles in his hand hoping that if he wished hard enough, they would simply refill themselves. But of course they didn’t.

It was then that Ray remembered Sand offering him a handful of pills the night before that Ray had only pretended to take since he was only pretending to be sick. He rushed over to his bedside table and pulled the pills out of his drawer.

“Sand, here,” he said excitedly, coming around to his side of the bed with a glass of water. “You need to take these.”

With some gentle coaxing, he was eventually able to get Sand to sit up and take the pills, but he looked horrible and collapsed back down onto the mattress immediately. Ray just stared at him helplessly, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do next.

He thought about calling Sand’s mom or his own dad or, hell, Mew—literally anyone who might be able to help—but his pride stopped him from actually picking up the phone. Sand had taken care of him for nearly a week without any help at all. Surely, Ray could do the same.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to think. The first thing he needed to do was buy more medicine.

“Sand? Sand?” he asked, shaking his boyfriend’s limp body. He had planned to ask whether Sand would be okay alone for a few minutes while he ran to the store, but Sand didn’t respond. He was fast asleep. In the end, Ray decided to go. He changed clothes, made sure Sand’s phone and a glass of water were easily within his reach, and then promised he would be back in fifteen minutes. As he stepped out their front door, he couldn’t help but think Sand would probably be better off alone than in his inept care.

Ray realized his first mistake within minutes: he had not taken a picture of the meds he needed to replace. When he reached the pharmacy right around the corner from their apartment, he was immediately overwhelmed by the options and he had no clue what Sand needed. He tried googling it only to become overwhelmed again, but in the end, a nice older lady helped him pick out a couple things she thought would be useful and Ray threw a few extras into his basket as well. Just in case.

When he returned home, Sand hadn’t moved, but he was shivering and covered in sweat, so Ray grabbed a washcloth and a basin of water and did his best to clean him. It wasn’t as easy as Sand made it look. His motions were clumsy and he felt sure that if Sand were conscious enough to know what was happening, he would have laughed at his efforts.

After that, Ray bundled Sand back into bed and headed into the kitchen to make soup for the first time in his life. On the night Ray had first fallen ill, Sand had made him a pot of soup that tasted so good he had devoured it within a day. It was Sand’s mom’s recipe and she claimed it had healing powers. Ray didn’t doubt it. Sand told him his mom’s soup was the one bright spot of getting sick. That it almost made the whole thing worth it. So Ray knew he needed to make it for Sand, too.

He had texted Sand’s mom and picked up the ingredients while he was out, but now that he was staring at them spread out over the counter, he felt less confident about his ability to recreate the recipe. There was nothing he could do about that now. He sighed and got started chopping the vegetables. Badly. Sand did most of the cooking in their house. Ray was starting to realize that Sand did most of everything.

Hours later, the finished soup was simmering on the stove and Ray smelled like a Thai restaurant. He quickly hopped in the shower, washing off the last vestiges of his own illness and the evidence of his poor cooking, and then headed back to the bedroom where Sand was still asleep. He held his hand out to feel Sand's forehead and although his body temperature felt more normal than before, he was still shivering.

Ray didn’t know what else to do so, feeling helpless, he simply laid by his boyfriend’s side and wrapped his arms around him, praying that the worst of it would soon go away. Was this what it had felt like for Sand to watch him be sick over the past week? Had Ray only prolonged that pain by pretending he wasn’t well?

The shivering stopped. They both fell asleep.

Ray was awoken some time later by Sand moving in his arms. He sat up immediately, ready to run and fetch whatever Sand needed to feel better, but when Sand finally opened his eyes, he no longer looked pained. Just tired.

“Are you okay?” Ray asked, reaching for Sand’s face as if searching for an injury he already knew didn’t exist. “What do you need? Medicine? Water? Food? I made soup!”

Ray was cursing himself for not setting alarms for Sand’s medicine the way Sand had done for him when Sand gave him a weak smile. “You made soup?” he teased and that, at least, told Ray the medicine was working.

“I did!” Ray insisted.

“Well then some soup might be nice.”

So Ray hopped out of bed and prepared a bowl of soup for Sand. When he returned to the bedroom, he found Sand already sitting propped up on a couple pillows, taking better care of himself than Ray had taken of him.

“You look better,” he said.

“I feel better,” Sand agreed.

“I’m sorry I got you sick.”

Sand shrugged. “It was bound to happen. Now about this soup…”

Ray refused to pass Sand the bowl, scared he might drop it, but he dutifully scooped a spoonful of Tom Yum out and offered it to him. Sand sniffed it hesitantly before taking a bite.

The soup had barely touched his tongue before his whole face scrunched up in distaste. He quickly tried to school his features, but it was too late. Such an extreme reaction was hard to miss.

“What’s wrong?” Ray asked, trying a bite himself. All he could taste was salt. He made the same face Sand had and suddenly, he felt like he was going to cry.

“Oh, don't cry,” Sand said, taking the bowl from him, setting it down on the bedside table, and then pulling him into a hug. Even though Ray was no longer sick and certainly didn’t deserve the comfort, he let himself be held anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m such a crappy boyfriend. You took such good care of me for a whole week and I can’t even make you a pot of soup without fucking it up. I haven’t even been sick these past couple days. I’ve just been pretending so you would pay more attention to me!”

“Oh, baby. I know.”

That was enough to stop Ray’s tears. “You do?”

“Of course I do. You’re not a very good liar. But look, it’s fine. It’s the thought that counts,” he said, running his fingers through Ray’s hair. Surprisingly, that was all it took to calm him down.

“I’ll get better,” Ray promised, leaning his head on Sand’s shoulder. “And I’ll order you more soup from that place you like.”

“You’re doing fine,” Sand soothed. “Just stay here with me. That’s all I need. You’re all I need.”

Ray laid with his head on Sand’s chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. “I love you,” he said because that was the one thing he knew he could provide. He had more than enough love to give.

Sand smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”

#only friends the series #only friends fanfic #sandray #sandray fanfic #sarah writes things #fun fact: while i was writing this fic i learned that tom yum actually does have healing powers #apparently the capsaicin in the peppers boosts immune response #i have a master’s degree in nutrition 🙃

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