#lee know sickfic

[dudadragneel]

And I'm back!

I hope you'll enjoy it!

This fic is based on a TikTok I saw!

THE ONLY HYUNG

Idols tend to receive tons of gifts from fans to the point where the companies issue a statement that they won't be accepting any more. But that also has to do with their safety, you never know what a sasaeng can do.

One day, Chan and Lee Know decided to go live to open some of the gifts they had recently received.

They had managed to get the staff away so they could be a little more carefree during the live, but still paying attention to what they said.

They enjoyed opening up all the presents and fan letters, some even made them tear up.

It was all going well until things unexpectedly took a turn for the worse. Before going live they had lunch and since eating Lee Know was feeling bloated, as if he ate a serving for three people.

As they went on he kept on taking his hand to his stomach and rubbing it in useless attempts to calm it down. But he kept his composure, as much as he could, the last thing he wanted was to get sick live.

Chan had picked up on Lee Know's obvious discomfort and placed a hand on his thighs, trying to comfort him without saying anything.

Lee Know tried his best to focus on his hyung's touch and the presents, but eventually, it got too much. His stomach was churning and his head started to hurt as well.

Before he even noticed he had lowered his head so it was now resting on his hand and Chan immediately stopped everything he was doing and turned his attention to Lee Know.

- hyung...I feel sick...

Chan got closer to him and started massaging his nape. He knew that if Lee Know admitted to feeling unwell, it meant it was really bad.

The staff that was monitoring the live from another room, had gone to the room where they were but before they could get in, Chan glared at them, and a single nod made them leave. He knew Lee Know wouldn't want attention right now.

- Do you want some water?

- No...I feel nauseous...

He said, bringing his hand to his stomach one more time and letting out a sigh. Chan grabbed Lee Know's hand and started rubbing it with his thumb.

- Do you wanna go to the bathroom?

- hm...I want to throw up...

- Let's go. Hyung will help you.

Chan placed his arms under Lee Know's and helped him up, being in a standing position was not something his stomach had agreed to so he lurched forward suppressing a gag with his hand.

- Hang on just a little more, okay?

He embraced his dongsaeng and guided him to the bathroom and into one of the stalls, locking the door behind them.

Usually, Lee Know would rather deal with this on his own but he acted like a dongsaeng when he was with Chan. The difference in how he acts is huge.

Lee Know bent over, hands on the edges for support, and started gagging unproductively.

He kept on rocking back and forth, spitting out saliva and retching, but whatever it was that made him feel like that was not coming up.

Chan was rubbing his back up and down, with the softest expression on his face.

- hyung...

Lee Know whined.

- I know it hurts... it'll be over soon.

Lee Know squeezed his eyes when his stomach cramped badly making him gag unproductively again.

Chan took his chance to help his dongsaeng by gently rubbing his abdomen in a circular motion.

Lee Know retched a few times before a wet burp triggered his sensitive stomach, bringing up partially digested food. Chan could swear he saw chunks of what was Lee Know's lunch from earlier and grimaced at the gross sight.

His stomach did not give him a break and before he could even breathe, it sent up a thicker stream of putrid vomit immediately followed by another making the poor boy go red from the effort and sway forward.

Chan tightened his hold on Lee Know so that the boy wouldn't fall and used his other hand to rub Lee Know's chest, trying to comfort the sick boy.

- Agh...

Lee Know groaned at the discomfort he was feeling before another bout of vomit gushed out with a wet burp, arching his back.

- You're doing good. Get everything out. It must have been the lunch. You'll feel better when it's all out of your system.

Lee Know spat out thick saliva and then his stomach gave him a break. But now his head was throbbing from the ordeal and he felt a little dizzy, like someone was squeezing his head.

- Minho-ah? Do you think you're done?

- Hyung...I need to sit down...

- Are you feeling dizzy?

- hm...

Lee Know just nodded swallowing hard. Chan carefully guided him so he was now sitting down on the floor. Thank God for the ridiculously clean bathrooms of the company.

The younger boy was kind of in a daze with how things went south in a matter of minutes, so Chan stepped up to keep on helping him, getting some toilet paper to wipe Lee Know's mouth.

- Thanks hyung...

- How are you feeling?

Chan asked sitting beside Lee Know who was resting his head on his hand again and kept on rubbing his back reassuringly.

- Sick...my stomach is churning and now my head hurts...

- Do you want to move to the studio?

- No... I feel like I'll throw up again...

- Okay. We'll stay here then. I'll be right here with you.

Chan reassured, grabbing Lee Know's hand and squeezing it.

- Agh..

Lee Know winced again...

- What is it?

- My head is throbbing....Hyung...can I rest my head on your hand?

- Of course.

Chan couldn't deny that he was taken aback by the sudden request, Lee Know being this vulnerable was a rare sight, one that was mostly only shown to Chan.

Lee Know rested his head on his hyung's hand, allowing the whole weight to be held by Chan. The pressure against his forehead miraculously helped with the throbbing pain.

Even so, Chan kept rubbing Lee Know's back, and for a while, the young boy seemed to have calmed down.

- Minho-ah, were you feeling like this before?

- Only after lunch...my stomach felt too full...

- I think it might've been the lunch.

The young boy was still resting his head on his hyung's hand when he started shivering a bit. Chan could feel Lee Know's forehead was starting to feel hot and that was an indicator that this wasn't a case of food not sitting well, it was most likely food poisoning.

- It's cold in here...

- I think you're starting to run a fever, Minho-ah. I'm pretty sure this is food poisoning.

- Great.

Lee Know said, clearly getting mad at the situation. He hated feeling sick, weak, and vulnerable but he felt safe to feel like this when he was with Chan.

The chills just wouldn't stop and his stomach was determined to get everything out.

It cramped badly again making him gag, startling Chan a bit, who was still holding the boy's head.

- Hyung...I'm gonna be sick...

He said weakly gagging again on his hand and failing to contain a bit of liquid that escaped his mouth but thankfully hit the floor and didn't get on his clothes. He already felt too weak so Chan had to help him to the toilet, holding his forehead and keeping the boy's hair away from his eyes.

Lee Know didn't even have time to think before his stomach contracted making more vomit rush up his throat. The thick wave that came out still had chunks of food, given that he had just eaten, and it triggered another wave that was followed by another one leaving him breathless.

- You're really not okay.

Chan said, somewhat impressed by how quickly his symptoms worsened, which meant that Lee Know's immune system was not in good condition.

The older boy kept on rubbing Lee Know's back and then moved to his chest when he choked, the bout that followed made food come out of his nose as well.

Fuck. He cursed inside, today just wasn't his day, and if it was really food poisoning, then this suffering would last a few days.

He straightened his back and took a deep breath in, trying to control his body, but gagged a few times before he was over the toilet one more time retching up what felt like it was yesterday's dinner.

After this bout he was dry heaving, just barely bringing up thick saliva and bile. Chan decided to flush the toilet before the stench and sight triggered Lee Know's stomach again.

- Grab my hand.

Chan offered but he didn't even need to, as Lee Know did that immediately, trying to take deep breaths to control the nausea that persisted.

- Come on, breathe with me, just like what we did that day.

Lee Know was still squeezing Chan's hand as he was guided through the breathing exercise. A few minutes after, he was more calm.

- Better?

- Yeah...

- Do you feel like you're gonna puke again?

- No...not now at least.

- Do you wanna move to the studio?

- Yeah...hyung, can you help me up? I feel dizzy...

- Sure, come on.

Chan placed his arms under Lee Know's again and lifted him, most of the boy's weight being held by his hyung.

- Let's rinse your mouth first.

While Lee Know did that, Chan wiped the sweat off his damp forehead and only then noticed that Lee Know's face was already pretty flushed because of the fever.

And the dancer couldn't deny, his whole body ached because of the fever, even Chan's hold on him hurt.

The oldest carefully guided Lee Know to his studio and lay him on the couch, covering his shivering body with a blanket and leaving a bin nearby.

- Minho-ah, hyung will go tell the manager what happened and see what we'll do okay?

- Yes...

When Chan got to the practice room, he was met with worried eyes, that were clearly asking what happened without saying a word.

- Chan-hyung, where were you?

- You were doing a live with Lee Know hyung, right?

- Yeah. Kids, gather here. Lee Know got sick, he probably has food poisoning. He threw up a couple of times and he's running a fever.

- Where is he?

- I took him to my studio, that's the place where he'd get more privacy.

At that time, their manager came into the room and upon noticing one member missing went straight to the gathered group.

- What happened? Where Lee Know-ssi?

- He got sick during the live. He threw up a few times and he's running a fever. I'm guessing it's food poisoning. Should we take him to the hospital?

- Going to the hospital can be a hassle, especially because of the possibility of encountering fans and god forbid, saesengs. Let's take him home and see if we can make him stay hydrated and fed, if in two days he doesn't manage to keep anything down, well take him.

- Okay.

- Since you have no official schedules, if you want to you can go home as well kids.

- I think Lee Know-hyung would want to keep his privacy for a while. We'll go have lunch and go back home later.

- Okay then.

The manager said, leaving the room to inform the other staff about the situation.

- Kids, can you gather Lee Know's thing for me? I'll go check on him.

- Yes, hyung.

Chan promptly left the room, worried about the sick dongsaeng in his studio. Opening the door, he found Lee Knows hunched over the couch spilling more of his stomach's content into the bin.

He went to his side, sitting on the edge of the couch, repeating the same process from earlier, holding his forehead and rubbing his back, and noticing that the fever had worsened, he could feel the heat through Lee Know's clothes.

- Hyung...it hurts...

- I know... we'll take you home in a few minutes okay?

- Okay.

- Can I dispose of this? Or are you gonna vomit again?

- I feel empty...but the nausea is still here...

- Okay.

Chan went to the bathroom and quickly returned.

- The boys gathered your things, the managed will take us home.

Lee Know stood out his arms so Chan could help him sit up and then waited a few seconds to see if he would throw up again.

- You good?

- Yeah...

- Want me to carry you?

Lee Know's face which was already red due to the fever had gotten even more red.

- Uhm...

He hummed in agreement, head down a little embarrassed. Chan just smiled fondly, even though Lee Know couldn't see.

The leader positioned himself kneeling in front of Lee Know so he could climb on his back, wrapping his arms around his hyun and burying his face.

Chan walked out of his studio and was greeted by their manager holding Lee Know's bag and a big coat which he used to cover Lee Know who was still shivering.

Thankfully their van was parked in the garage so no chance of paparazzi.

Chan settled Minho inside the car and sat beside him, pulling his head so it was resting on his shoulder.

- Manager-nim, do we have a plastic bag?

- I think we do, hold on.

The manager looked inside the glove box and found a plastic bag from one of the many grocery shopping he did with the kids, and handed it to Chan.

- If you feel sick, just let me know okay?

- hmm...

Lee Know just hummed, his fever making him sleepy and dizzy. Chan offered his hand for the sick boy to hold and he did it without hesitation. And again Chan was surprised by how hot he felt, it was high enough to mess with his breathing, and they didn't have a thermometer in the studio so he had no idea how high it was.

A few minutes into the ride home, Lee Know felt increasingly nauseous, burping wetly from time to time. Then he felt something creeping up his chest, a foul taste in his mouth.

He squeezed Chan's hand as he began to swallow convulsively, not wanting to throw up in front of their manager.

- Are you feeling nauseous again?

Lee Know just nodded, swallowing hard and then suppressing a gag, his stomach clearly mad at him for trying to swallow it down.

- Don't hold it in, Minho-ah. He's seen us sick before.

Chan reassured, not letting go of Lee Know's hand and putting the bag under his chin.

The boy helplessly ducked his head closer to the bag just in time for a wet burp to bring up a wave of putrid liquid hitting the bag. Lee Know kept squeezing Chan's hand, that was the only thing keeping him sane and grounded at the moment. Another queasy burp brought up another mouthful of vomit, and by now both he and Chan were thinking he was vomiting everything he ate during the week.

- We're almost there Lee Know-ssi.

Lee Know Just spat out some thick saliva and then just leaned his whole weight on Chan, who was holding the dirty bag, wanting to get rid of it as soon as possible, before the stench filled the car.

When they arrived at the dorms, the manager quickly got out of the car and went to Chan's side to get the bag and dispose of it.

- Minho-ah. We're home.

Chan said softly, caressing the sick boy's arm in an attempt to wake him up. Lee Know was barely conscious but he managed to move so he was sitting on the edge of the car's seat for Chan to pick him up.

- Here we go. Are you okay? Do you feel nauseous?

- No...

- Okay, I'll start moving then.

The manager carried their stuff while Chan carried a flushed face Lee Know, who also looked a little pale.

Entering the dorm, Chan sat Lee Know on the couch and the manager put their things in their bedrooms.

- Call me if you need anything, okay? I'll leave you two alone. Get better soon, Lee Know-ssi.

- Thanks, hyung.

Lee Know said before ducking his head and looking between his knees, he brought a hand to his stomach and sighed. Chan had gone to the bedroom to get Lee Know a fresh set of clothes and a thermometer.

- Let me take your temperature and then I'll help you take a bath, okay?

- yes...

Just as Chan suspected, the fever was really high 38.8°C.

- Minho-ah, we need to cool you down and we need to try to take some medicine, okay?

Just the thought of having to take a pill and most likely taste it was enough to trigger his stomach.

- hyung...

Lee Know called grabbing Chan's arm for dear life.

- bathroom...

He already felt something coming up his throat so he didn't manage to say a proper sentence.

- Come on.

Chan promptly helped his dongsaeng up, grabbed the change of clothes, and rushed to the bathroom with him.

Lee Know went straight to the toilet, vomit spewing out without much control and getting on the edges and the floor.

- Don't worry about that, hyung will clean it up.

Chan reassured placing the clothes on the sink and then going to Lee Know's side to rub his back and his chest for the nth time that day. Chan was scared at how much content was still coming out after the few rounds from earlier, he was getting afraid they'd have to take him to the hospital. As the oldest hyung, he just wanted his dongsaeng's well-being but avoiding the hospital is something everyone wanted.

As Lee Know continued to puke his guts out, Chan prepared his bath.

When he was done, Chan helped him out of his sweaty clothes and helped him into the shower, thankfully they had a bathtub because Lee Know was in no state to keep standing.

- Minho-ah, do you want hyung to wash your hair?

- please...

All this cuteness and vulnerability just showed how awful he was feeling. Chan carefully washed his hair and hoped the bath would help reduce his fever.

- Thanks, hyung

- Don't mention it. I'll let you take your bath now but I'll stay here just in case.

Lee Know slowly washed himself, the water hitting his skin making him wince from how much it stung. What usually would be a means to relax, today was almost a torture session.

When he was done, he surprisingly asked Chan for help getting dressed, and so his hyung did. He was now clean, wearing comfortable clothes and completely drained of his batteries.

- Come on, let's get you to bed. Do you feel like you're vomit again?

- No...not now...I'm tired...

- I know, let's go.

Chan cooed, wrapping his arms around Lee Know and guiding him to his bedroom. Since Lee Know shared a bedroom with another member, Chan thought it would be better for the young boy to sleep in his bedroom. That way he could keep an eye on him, and Lee Know could be more comfortable since he didn't like to show this side to the others.

Lee Know lay down on his hyung's bed and was promptly covered with a blanket by him.

- I will get you an antiemetic first and see how you'll hold up, okay? You need to put something in your stomach, water, a sports drink, soup. I'll be right back.

The poor boy's fever was so high, it was tearing up his eyes, and his head was still throbbing. He just sunk into the pillow and closed his eyes to ease some of the pain until Chan came back.

- Minho-ah. Here take these and let's wait.

- Hyung...my head is still throbbing...

- I'll sim the lights for you. let's see if the antiemetics work, then you'll try to eat something so I can give you painkillers, okay?

- Yes...

Chan stayed with Lee Know in the bedroom and within a few minutes the medication seemed to have worked.

- Do you think you can stomach some soup? Or bread? It might help better than soup actually.

- Bread...

He answered weakly, eyes half open.

Chan came back with a few slices of bread and gave them to Lee Know, who hesitantly took it.

- Just a few bites okay?

The older boy helped Lee Know to sit up on the bed, he was wearing a black hoodie and was half-covered with a blanket. Lee Know was fairly muscular but to Chan, at that moment, he looked so tiny.

He sat at the edge of the bed and stayed with Lee Know while the poor boy took small bites and slowly ate the slices.

- How do you feel? Nauseous?

- No...feels settled...for now.

- That's good.

Chan set the tray aside and placed his hand on Lee Know's forehead.

- It's still high. Let me check it.

The thermometer showed almost the same temperature from earlier, 38.5°C.

- it's still pretty high. Do you think you can stomach some pills?

- Yes...

- Take them with a sports drink, that way you won't feel the taste.

Chan quickly left and came back with the medication and the drinks. Lee Know took them and gagged but managed to swallow it. They waited a few seconds to see if he'd vomit but it didn't happen.

Lee Know was falling asleep even while sitting, so Chan carefully laid him down on the bed, placed an ice pack on his forehead, and covered him before leaving the room to eat something and get a mattress.

Then he was met with the rest of the kids who had just returned home.

- Hyung! How's Lee Know-hyung?

- He threw up again but after taking some medication, he managed to eat something. He was pretty tired so he's asleep now. He'll stay in my room for the time being, okay?

- Okay hyung.

- Let's just keep quiet. I don't want to wake him up.

They all had dinner, took a shower, and then went to do their own stuff but before telling Chan to tell Lee Know they wished he gets better soon.

Chan entered the bedroom and found Lee Know still asleep, his breathing was a bit off but it was due to the fever. He hoped the sick boy would sleep well through the night, but those prayers were not heard.

Chan checked on Lee Know one more time before going to bed himself but was woken up after 1h or so.

Lee Know was sleeping rather peacefully when his stomach decided to remind him he was going through a food poisoning process.

It started churning again, in complete turmoil making Lee Know toss and turn on the bed but no position was comfortable enough. He lay on his back and squeezed his hands in an attempt to control the urge to vomit.

It didn't work, he turned to his side and that must've been the worst decision he made that day. As soon as he turned his stomach jumped shooting up its contents way too fast, Lee Know rushed out of the room, hand covering his mouth so he wouldn't make a mess on the floor, that would be too humiliating.

He got to the bathroom, hurriedly closing the door behind him and bending over the toilet as a stream of bread mixed with stomach juice gushed out, immediately followed by another bout.

The motion of getting up so quickly and being bent over made him feel really dizzy, so before he could actually fall, he managed to sit down next to the toilet. His stomach was cramping badly, sending queasy burps repeatedly but not actually making him vomit, even though he felt like there were still things to come out.

He was starting to feel even more miserable than before, and he was sure his fever spiked again, even his clothes were hurting his skin.

He sat for a few seconds on the floor not sure of what to do, then he noticed his phone inside his hoodie pocket.

- Hyung. Can you come to the bathroom? Just need to know you're here.

Chan was already half awake when he got the message.

- Be right there.

He got up and made his way to the bathroom, but he didn't go in. He respected Lee Know's request of just being close, if the sick boy needed him inside with him, he'd say.

He sat by the door and gently ordered one of the members who had woken up to use the other bathroom, wanting to secure Lee Know's privacy as much as he could.

Chan kept hearing Lee Know retching over the toilet but never heard anything splashing in the water and he thought that maybe Lee Know had nothing else in his stomach.

But a few minutes later, he got another message.

- Hyung...come in, please...

Chan got up and politely knocked on the door, letting Lee Know know he was coming in.

Chan's heart dropped to his stomach when he saw Lee Know's state. His face was bright red from the fever that was obviously higher than before, he was sitting next to the toilet holding his stomach and with a pained expression on his face.

The leader locked the door behind him and walked up to Lee Know, grabbing his hand and feeling the heat of his skin.

- Minho-ah...

- hyung...it hurts...

Lee Know said, tears swelling up in his eyes. Chan immediately pulled him into an embrace, allowing him to break down if he needed to. It was a rare occurrence to see Lee Know cry, so whenever he needed to, Chan was always there to provide him the safe space he so much needed.

Lee Know broke down into sobs from frustration, pain, and embarrassment. Chan tightened his grip around him, gently rocking him from side to side, rubbing his back.

- It's okay. Hyung's got you.

When Lee Know finally calmed down, he kept looking down, still embarrassed by everything that was happening.

- hyung...I've been trying...but nothing's coming up...and it hurts so bad...

- Do you want hyung to help you?

- hmm.

Lee Know nodded shyly, hating to admit he was desperate for a comforting touch.

He leaned over the toilet, his stomach still cramping but only making him dry-heave and nothing came up.

Chan was by his side and rested his hand on Lee Know's abdomen and it felt heavenly for the sick boy. Because of his scar, Lee Know wasn't too comfortable with people touching his abdomen, but right now he really needed that.

- Can I press on it a bit? I think it'll help bring something up.

- please...

Lee Know pleaded, clearly done with how awful he felt, he was accepting every and any help.

Chan first started rubbing circles to soothe some of the pain and gently pressed the middle, earning a wince from Lee Know.

- I'm sorry...but it'll be over soon.

The motion seemed to be working as Lee Know started burping wetly and for a while, gagging unproductively.

Chan proceeded to press on his stomach until Lee Know retched wetly and a thick stream of putrid pale brown liquid hit the toilet water with a sickening sound, followed by another harsher one, leaving Lee Know breathless.

He coughed a few times because something got stuck in his throat, and Chan changed his approach to run his chest again as well as his back providing some comfort in the middle of the ordeal.

Another wet cough brought up small chunks of food mixing with the mess inside the bowl.

Lee Know scooted away from the toilet for a while, allowing Chan to flush it and get rid of the unsettling sight. He grabbed a few napkins to clean Lee Know's mouth and pulled the poor sick boy into his embrace so he could try to relax for a bit.

- I'm sorry hyung...

- You don't need to apologize.

- But I took over your room and now I can't even let you sleep...

- It's not your fault, Minho-yah. You had no idea you'd get food poisoning.

- What about the others?

- I made sure they'd stay away from the bathroom and my room, at least for now. I know you don't like much attention when you're sick.

- Thanks...I feel dizzy...

- It's because of the fever. Let me check your temperature again.

Chan took the thermometer from the cabinet and put it under Lee Know's arm.

- 39.1°C. It spiked.

It was obvious his fever got higher, he was looking red as a tomato, even his breathing felt hot, and despite wearing sweatpants and a hoodie he couldn't stop shivering.

- Minho-yah. Do you wanna take another shower? Or do you think you can stomach a fever reducer? If we don't get your temperature down, we'll have to go to the hospital.

As if on cue, Lee Know's stomach shot up what felt like it was the last of its contents barely giving him time to reach the toilet bowl, thankfully Chan helped him, otherwise he'd soil his clothes. The older boy gave him a glass of water so he could rinse his mouth and helped him brush his teeth.

- Thanks hyung...

- So, what do you wanna do?

- I don't wanna take another shower...my skin hurts every time something touches me.

- Then we'll try the pill again. Let's go back to the bedroom.

Chan offered a hand but Lee Know was far too exhausted to get up on his own, let alone walk.

- Come here, hyung will help you.

He put his arms under Lee Know's and carefully helped him to his feet but his legs almost instantly gave up on him.

- I'll carry you, okay?

- hmm.

Lee Know was in no state to protest, and honestly, he didn't want to. His hyung's presence and touch helped him more than Chan could imagine.

Chan hugged Lee Know and gently lifted him, one arm around his waist and the other around his legs. The image of a father carrying a son, that's how one would describe it.

He walked slowly to the bedroom, being extremely careful to not upset Lee Know's stomach, which seemed to have calmed down for a while.

He settled Lee Know on the bed and looked for a clean shirt and hoodie.

- Let's get you changed up. You sweat too much, your clothes are soaked.

Chan helped Lee know out of his hoodie and shirt and before putting on the clean ones, he wiped Lee Know's upper body, then helped him put on the new set.

- Can we take the medication now?

- Hmm

- Here, take one antiemetic and wait for a bit. Then take the fever reducer and another antiemetic.

Lee Know hesitantly took the pills from Chan's hand and contemplated for a bit, clearly afraid of vomiting again. He didn't want that, his whole body hurt because of the strain and the fever, and his throat was hurting as well, to the point his voice was raspy.

- Trust hyung, okay? You can keep it down, I know you can.

Chan reassured grabbing Lee Know's hand and started rubbing circular patterns.

Just like before, the first sip of water with the pill made him gag, but he managed to take everything.

Both he and Chan stayed sitting on the bed, waiting until Lee Know felt safe enough to lie down.

- How are you feeling? Still nauseous?

- just a bit...

- Do you wanna lay down?

- Yeah.

He lay down and Chan covered him, then lay down on the mattress next to the bed.

- Hyung...

He heard a soft whiny voice coming from above, it was Lee Know standing out his hand, after moving to the edge of the bed.

- What is it?

- Can you hold my hand?

- Of course.

Chan grabbed Lee Know's hand and just held it until he fell asleep. But he didn't let go, he knew Lee Know needed that, so he found a way of sleeping while holding his hand.

Thankfully, the medication seemed to have worked, at least for the night, because Lee Know slept until morning without any other incidents during the night.

When Chan woke up the first thing he did was check Lee Know's temperature.

- 38°C. It went down a bit, thank god.

He said quietly. Since Lee Know was in deep sleep, Chan quietly left the room to get breakfast and see the other kids.

- Good morning, hyung.

- Good morning kinds.

- How's Lee Know-hyung?

- He's still asleep. He managed to keep a few pills down yesterday, so his fever went down a bit, but it's still high.

- And you, hyung? How are you doing?

- I'm okay. He's got food poisoning, so I think we are all in the clear.

- Aren't you tired? We know you. We know you didn't get enough sleep.

- I'm doing good, kids. Don't worry about me. My concern now is getting Lee Know better.

Chan said walking to the kitchen to prepare something for him and a soup or some toast for Lee Know.

When he got back to the bedroom he found Lee Know sitting on the bed but still covered with the blanket, eyes puffy and face still red.

- Good morning.

- Good morning hyung...

Lee Know answered, voice raspy and weak, signs of a rough night.

- How are you feeling?

- Tired...

- And your stomach?

- A little nauseous but not that much...and a bit hungry.

- I made you some food. Wanna give it a try? There's soup and some toast.

- Can I try both?

- Sure, but don't force it. Take as long as you need. Want me to turn on the TV?

- Yeah.

Just like the previous night, Chan stayed in the bedroom with Lee Know as the boy slowly ate his meal. He then took the medications again and sunk into the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Chan left the room one more time and was met with six kids demanding him to rest. They knew Chan always took care of them, no matter what and he wouldn't say anything even if he was too tired.

- Hyung. You need to rest as well. We'll take turns.

- Thanks kids.

Chan said opening his arms to give all of them a big hug.

With that settled, Jisung was the first one to stay with Lee Know, the sick boy accepted cuddles from him and they helped him stay calm and asleep.

And just like they said, everyone took turns to stay with Lee Know and help him whenever he got sick the following days. They were some tiring 5 days for all of them, with Lee Know vomiting a few times during the day and night and his fever refusing to go lower than 37.5°C.

When the ordeal was over, they were all tired but relieved to see their dancer back to full health. Lee Know being one to not show his weak side to many, had to let go of his pride in order to get better, and deep inside he was grateful to all of them, especially his only hyung.

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

unnoticed

“Wake up sleepyhead!” said Han, throwing open the door to the sleepyhead’s room. The sleepyhead being Minho. Minho doesn’t usually sleep this late. But man is he exhausted. They’ve been really busy recently, with little time for rest. Not to mention, this particular morning, his head was throbbing. The obvious beginning of a migraine. 

Han flicked the lights on, watching Minho flinch as the lights stung his eyes. He tried not to make his pain clear, but Han definitely had seen.

“You okay?” Jisung asked, a look of concern spread across his face.

He considered telling Jisung how he felt. He could use the comfort, someone to take care of him. But they had a busy day ahead of them, and missing even one day could set them back by a lot.

So instead, he chose to lie. “I’m fine Ji. Just wasn’t ready for the lights.”

“Okay, well Chan is fixing us bowls of cereal and then we can head out.”

“Alright. Be out in five.”

Han didn’t show any signs of not believing Minho, so for now, he was in the clear. He dragged himself out of bed, picking out his comfiest sweats.

He slowly walked into the kitchen, finding a bowl of captain crunch waiting for him. He didn’t want to eat right now. But Chan was watching him, his own bowl of cinnamon toast crunch in front of him. So, he picked up the spoon (which somehow seemed heavier than usual) and started to take small bites of the cereal. His head-ached, screaming at him “No!! Don’t eat that!!!”, as his brain swirled.

“I think I’m finished. Thanks Chan.”

Minho said, dumping his now mushy cereal down the disposal.

Once again, he seemed to get away with it without much notice. He guessed that everyone was as tired as he was, especially Chan. No one had the energy to worry about him.

-

At 9:00 on the dot, the boys arrived at work, starting off the long day ahead of them. They first had a very long and boring meeting with their managers over something. Something that Minho payed absolutely no attention to, hoping it wasn’t anything important. 

Then it was time for dreaded, dance practice. Minho barely managed to keep up. He thought his dancing must have been pretty awful, but once again, no one seemed to notice. He must be pretty skilled at hiding his sickness, right?

Lastly, they had to go to a music video shoot. This was the part he had dreaded the most. They wanted to get some shots at a new setting, but it isn’t even the main spot for the video. It was just thrown in there to add something variety, but only a couple clips would be used. So, when they arrived at around 1 to shoot, the stylists got minho all dolled up. He usually doesn’t mind the stylists being all over him, their hands constantly applying and blotting makeup and combing his hair all at once. However, Iin combination with his headache, it was extremely overstimulating. His head pounded and a single tear rolled down his face. He tried to suck it up, and stop crying like a baby. He may have been able to if it weren’t for the stylist taking notice to his upset.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Should I get someone?”

In that moment, Minho lost it.

He cried, sobs wracking through his whole body, crying off the pound of makeup applied to his face very quickly. One of the stylists called out for a member to come save the day. 

The one who came to the rescue this time was Changbin.

“Minho? What’s wrong why are you crying?”

Minho couldn’t respond. His head was killing him, the crying only made the throbbing more powerful, and his vision swirled. He paled.

“Minho? Are you okay? You don’t look good.”

Minho pitched forward and puke down Changbin’s front.

Silently, Changbin moved to stand at the crying boy’s side, rubbing his back sweetly.

Eventually, Jisung came to take his place so he could wash up.

“It’s okay bud. I knew you didn’t feel well, I should’ve trusted my gut. I’m sorry. Let’s get you home okay? Manager says we can shoot this scene another day.”

“But we’ll be so behind!” Minho cried.

“Actually, we are ahead right now. We’ll be okay! Come on.”

-

On the way home, they stopped and picked up some advil to hopefully help with the pain.  Minho crashed the moment he got home, sleeping peacefully as a platonic little spoon with his Jisung big spoon at his side. 

-

🫶

this one was lost in my drafts im so sorry i didnt finish it till now! more on the way!

how’s yalls summer?? question: what’s yalls fav cereal? i love captain crunch and cinnamon toast crunch, also the marshmallows in lucky charms 😋

[hjizngs]

sick days | lee minho

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hi! this is my first ever post on here,, hehe. constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.

cw: sick reader, petnames, slight cursing, slightly suggestive (??), angstyish oops, mostly fluff! just minho being the cutest bf :3

another hacking cough forces itself from your throat, leaving behind a painful sting and the inability to swallow. a frustrated groan emits you, followed by disgruntled sniffle. you hate being sick. 

sore throats, gross coughs, painful headaches, and a stuffed nose were all a recipe for disaster — especially today. you and minho had planned out the perfect date; a picnic, stroll in the park, and finally a movie. you had looked forward to it all week, barely getting through. only the promise of seeing your boyfriend kept you going.

you turn over on your side, the gentle movement sending another round of pain signals ringing in your head. tears sprung to the corners of your swollen eyes. you were devastated at having to miss your date. blearily, you swung a hand over to the bedside table, blindly searching for your phone. 

once found, you swiped over to minho’s contact. pressing the call button, you slumped back onto your pillow defeatedly. 

“jagi?” came the sweet voice of your boyfriend. “what’s up?” 

an exhausted whimper answers him. “min.. min i’m sorry” is all you can utter. 

his voice instantly is filled with concern. “what’s my love sorry for, hm? is everything okay?”

“no, m’sorry min.. i feel so bad. my head hurts, and i puked earlier, and it —“ another pained sound exits you. “— it hurts.” 

something shuffles over the phone, and your boyfriend is quick to reply. “oh, my poor jagi. i’m on my way, don’t worry.”

you furrow your brows. “wh-what? no no you don’t have to do that, min!” 

“see you in five.”

your eyes rolled as your boyfriend hung up on you a abruptly (like he always does — and it never fails to surprise you). coughing again, you accept that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from coming over. you scan your messy room and groan. you’re sick! you don’t want him to see you like this! 

you swing your legs over to the side of your bed, only pausing when a sneeze erupts from your pinkened nose. you settle your socked feet on the floor and attempt to rise to your feet. 

you sway, blinking harshly as to try to clear the black spots plaguing your vision. maybe getting up wasn’t the best idea..? oh well. 

slowly, you begin to shuffle around your room, picking up discarded clothes and trying to round up any embarrassing wrappers or trash. you’re halfway through folding another t-shirt when your body flashes hot, then cold. the pounding in your head increases tenfold and you drop the shirt in favor of clutching your temples. spots engulf your sight and you sink to your knees, not even attempting to make it to the bed.

you’re sweating. but the ceiling fan above only makes you shiver, goosebumps lining your arms. everything is too bright, and you squint from a combination of a headache and the glaring overhead light that suddenly feels like a thousand suns beating down on you. 

another whimper crawls out of your dry throat. the only thing your fever-weakened mind can think is minho. where is minho? you need him, it hurts it hurts everything hurts —

“jagi?! oh my god, are you okay?” thunderous footsteps make their way to you and you wince at the sudden exclamation. 

cold, cool hands press themselves to your trembling body and you sigh in relief. they stroke through your hair, carding through gently. you open one eye to see who they belong to, but clamp it shut immediately, the bright light making your eyelids pulse.

 you hear shuffling from the side, and one of the hands leave you. you suppress a whine, but something in your expression must be alarming because the voice coos. “oh, baby, i’m just turning off the light, okay?” 

no, it’s not okay. not when those hands are the only thing grounding you, keeping you from melting. however, as promised, the offending light gets shut off, and you hum in appreciation. 

the nice hands quickly return to their rightful place in your hair, and you bravely attempt to open your swollen eyes again.

your boyfriend looks down at you gently. “my poor girl. let’s get you back into bed, hm?”

you nod pathetically, letting him lift you up and place you softly on your mattress. you murmur a quiet thanks and he kisses your sweaty forehead in response. he sits on the side of the bed next to you, placing his hand on your leg and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“have you eaten at all yet?” he inquires.

you shake your head, “no, not yet. i don’t think i could eat a thing without puking it back up, to be honest.”

minho hums at that, scanning your face. he reaches out and places a small hand on your forehead, feeling out your temperature. he frowns.

“i think we need to check for a fever, honey. you’re very warm.”

he moves to go stand and you pout. “don’t leave, please.”

“i’m just going to grab the thermometer and a glass of water, i’ll be right back, okay?”

“be fast!” you plead.

he cards a hand through your hair. “i’ll be so fast, jagiya.”

it feels like an eternity as minho tries to locate the thermometer from outside your bedroom. you shiver again, pulling the closest fuzzy blanket over you and burrowing into it.

and that’s how he finds you when he returns — a sweaty, sick burrito. you watch as he smiles down at you fondly, pulling back the blanket a little to take a look at you.

“think you can sit up for me? need help?” he asks.

“need help, please,” you respond nasally.

minho aids in positioning you up so you’re leaning against your pillow. he holds out the found thermometer and motions for you to open your mouth.

you oblige and he places the thermometer under your tongue. after a few moments, he pulls it out and looks down on it with a displeased expression — like it personally offended him.

“100.” he states, his brow crinkling. “yeah, you’re not leaving this bed.”

you sigh and slump farther into your blanket. “i’d rather hear that in a different situation.”

minho blinks slowly, fondly. “i’ll ignore that, just because you’re sick.”

you stick out your tongue as he rises from the bed to put away the thermometer. he looks down at you, unimpressed, but with a twinkle of amusement in his catlike eyes. “brat.”

“i’m sick!” you whine, “be nice.”

“i am being nice. so nice, in fact, that i’ll ignore this little attitude —“ he reaches down and pokes your forehead, “— because i know that you feel like shit.”

you roll your eyes when he’s turned and putting the thermometer in some drawer, but deep down you’re very grateful he came over to take care of you. for all his teasing, he really does treasure you. you still feel bad for canceling the date.

in some feverish, dramatic mood change, tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot and uncomfortable, and you sniffle. not only did you cancel the date, you’re acting like a brat instead of thanking minho for looking after you.

“m’sorry,” you croak from your cocoon of blankets.

minho turns around sharply and scans your face quickly. he strides over to the bed and sits beside you. “what?”

“m’sorry!” tears begin to trickle down your face, sticky and unwanted. you reach up to swipe them away.

minho’s hand reaches out, grabbing onto your arm and lightly tugging you into his chest. “silly girl. what are you sorry for?”

“f’making you come over and take care of me and being a brat and not saying thank you!” you rush out, slurring some words.

a chuckle shakes minho’s chest. “oh wow, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“i’m sorry!”

“hey, hey,” his joking manner disappears when a fresh wave of tears erupts from your eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re sick. you have a fever, baby. you aren’t being a brat, i’m sorry i called you that when you weren’t feeling well.”

you peek up at him. “you mean it?”

minho doesn’t respond, just pulls you tighter into his chest and kisses the top of your hair. his cool hand rubs on your back soothingly under your shirt. he gently lays back onto your bed, cradling you to his chest.

“try to sleep some of this off. take a nap,” he orders you lightly. “i’ll be right here.”

at his words, you snuggle into him. he reaches to the side and pulls a blanket over the two of you. just before sleep takes it’s hold over you, you look up at him, catching his eye.

“thanks for being here, min. i love you,” you murmur, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you begin to succumb to sleep.

the last thing you hear before sinking into feverish dreams is, “anytime, baby. i love you more.”

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yas! ok! first post done, please lmk what u think!!!1 reblogs and likes are appreciated:3

[valkyriexo]

You have a Migraine | Seungmin

ᑉ³pairing; Seungmin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff

ᑉ³warnings; Reader dealing with a migraine, Pills mentioned

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Edited.

Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you lie in bed, cocooned in blankets. But despite the peaceful scene outside your window, there's no rest to be found within the confines of your own mind.

Your temples throb with a relentless intensity, each pulse sending shockwaves of pain through your skull. Migraine days are the worst, and today seems determined to be the pinnacle of that agony.

You try to ignore the pounding in your head, focusing instead on the rhythmic ticking of the clock on your bedside table. But even the steady beat seems to mock you, a reminder of the passing minutes that only serve to prolong your suffering.

With a heavy sigh, you reach out for the bottle of painkillers that has become a permanent fixture in your life. You're all too familiar with the ritual of opening its childproof cap, but today, as you twist it off, your heart sinks.

The bottle is empty.

With a groan, you try to summon the strength to get out of bed, but the pain pins you down like an anchor. Frustration, thick and palpable, mixes with the pain, creating a cocktail of misery that threatens to engulf you entirely. Each attempt to rise is met with a wave of nausea, a cruel reminder of the physical toll this puts on you. The room spins, a dizzying carousel of sensations that leaves you disoriented and defeated.

You clench your teeth, willing yourself to push through the fog of agony that clouds your mind.

Every muscle in your body protests as you attempt to sit up, each movement sending shockwaves of pain radiating outward from the epicenter in your head.

With a final, desperate effort, you manage to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, your feet meeting the cold, unforgiving floor below. But even this small victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the relentless drumbeat of pain that reverberates through you.

You close your eyes against the harsh glare of the morning light. But even in the darkness behind your eyelids, the pain persists.

You can't bring yourself to stand, the pain worsening with each passing moment. Doubts gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. Were there even any pills left in the medicine cabinet?

The thought of standing seems utterly futile, a mountain too steep to climb in your current state.

Your mind races, searching desperately for a solution amid the fog of agony. There's only one thing you can think to do. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone, wincing at the harsh light it emits as you unlock the screen and dial Seungmin's number.

Each ring feels like an eternity, each passing second an eternity of suffering. But then, finally, his voice breaks through the haze of pain.

"Hello?" His voice is filled with concern.

"Seungmin," you manage to choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "It's... it's bad. I need... help."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, a heartbeat of uncertainty before Seungmin's reassuring voice fills your ears once more. "I'm on my way," he says, his words a promise of relief.

As you wait for Seungmin's arrival, time seems to stretch into eternity, each moment punctuated by the relentless throbbing in your temples. The minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity as you struggle to hold onto a semblance of composure amidst the storm of pain.

Finally, just when you're beginning to fear that he might not come, there's a soft knock on the door. You struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the harsh light filtering through the curtains. "Come in," you manage to croak out.

It swings open to reveal Seungmin standing on the other side. His eyes widen in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance, and without a word, he steps forward to wrap you in a gentle embrace.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm against the raw edges of your pain. "Everything's going to be okay."

"It hurts so much, Minnie," you say, tears escaping despite your efforts to hold them back.

"I know, I know," he replies, his voice laced with empathy, his eyes reflecting the depth of his concern.

His eyes scan the room, searching for any way to alleviate your suffering. Spotting the dimmer switch, he stands silently. With a flick of his wrist, he adjusts the lighting, the soft glow casting shadows that offer a respite from the harsh brightness.

Not content with just that, he strides over to the window, pulling the curtains closed carefully. Each movement is precise, deliberate, as he ensures not a single ray of light infiltrates the room. The darkness that envelops you feels like a sanctuary, shielding you from the pain.

As he returns to your side, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, a warmth that eases the chill of pain.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, resuming his previous position.

You nod gratefully, the gesture feeling like too much effort.

Seungmin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bottle of pills. He had remembered your preferred medication, and he always keep it on hand, whether in the dorms or car. With a reassuring smile, he hands you a couple of pills along with a bottle of water from your nightstand.

After a few moments of silence, the medication starts to work its magic, gradually easing the relentless ache in your head.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, breaking the silence that envelops the room.

Seungmin turns to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What for?"

"I know you're not really big on physical touch," you explain, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry I bothered you with all this."

His expression softens, and he reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. "Hey, don't apologize. I'm here because I want to be. Helping you through this is the least I can do."

As he spoke, your head pinged with pain, every word feeling like a hammer striking against your skull. You wince, from the noise, the throbbing in your temples growing more intense with each syllable.

"I know noise tends to be painful when this happens, and I just want to let you know that I'm okay with sitting in silence, as long as you're comfortable," Seungmin says quietly.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, both from the pain and from the overwhelming kindness of his words. Despite the agony you're enduring, he remains by your side, offering his own version of comfort.

Seungmin's touch is gentle as he runs his fingers through your hair, his movements soothing against your scalp. His fingertips tracing delicate patterns across your skin as if trying to soothe away the pain with each caress. His kisses are soft and fleeting, pressed gently against your forehead and temples, a gesture of comfort and affection in the midst of your suffering.

"Thank you," you manage to murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

He shakes his head, his expression gentle and reassuring. "Stop apologizing. Just rest."

With a nod, you lean back against him and the pillows, finding solace in the silence that descends upon the room. At that moment, despite the pain, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that whatever happens, you will always have him by your side.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

[fairyniceyeah]

🧭🐰 Day 12: “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up"

@sicktember

Summary: Han wakes up to a commotion at night. 

CW: emeto, cursing

Sickie: Lee Know/Minho

Caretaker(s): HAN/Jisung

Han woke up to the sound of loud voices talking over each other and light spilling into the dark dorm room he shared with Jeongin. He groaned, resisting the urge to place his pillow over his head to block out everything.

He could have sworn it was only an hour since he and Changbin had come back home from the studio. He wished he had slammed their broken bedroom door shut when he had gone to bed - it was the only way it shut now - and Han regretted being nice and considerate towards the other members’ sleep. The door must have opened all the way again, allowing light and sound in.

“‘m awake, ‘m awake”, Jeongin muttered, sounding anything but, “wait, I don’t even have school anymore. Shut up!”

Han giggled a bit and opened his burning eyes. While the maknae’s tiredness was cute, a glance at his phone revealed that it was indeed only shortly before 4am. Unless they had all collectively forgotten a schedule in yesterday’s meeting about today’s schedule, they needn’t be awake for at least another three hours yet. 

“Your prince in shining armor will make them shut up”, Han declared and pushed himself up to give the disturbing members a piece of his mind. 

“Wait, I wanna yell at them too”, Jeongin slurred and pushed himself up, stumbling into Han and leaning on him on their way out the door. 

They both groaned at the bright hallway light, Jeongin even covering his eyes for a moment. To their utmost surprise the other members (except for the two eldest hyungs and Hyunjin) were gathered in the hallway in front of the bathroom. Felix and Seungmin were both wide-eyed and talking quickly to each other, while Changbin was knocking on the bathroom door, yelling something that Han’s tired brain didn’t catch.

“Shut the fuck up”, Jeongin said at the same time that Han realised that something must be up and asked: “What’s going on?”

His question was answered by a disgusting sound echoing from the bathroom, sounding like somebody (or something) was turning himself inside out, followed by the sound of liquid hitting liquid. As Felix stepped aside to turn to them, Han saw the puddle. Chunky, yellow puke was covering the hallway floor and a bit of the wall, reeking all the way to the two members now that they noticed it.

“Hyung is sick”, Seungmin said, raising his eyebrows, “obviously.”

Before Han could even wonder if he meant Minho or Hyunjin, assuming that Chan was still at the company, Changbin called: “Minho-yah, I know you don’t want an audience but can you at least let one of us in? Or do you want me to call Channie-hyung?”

He didn’t receive an answer except for a loud, hacking cough. Changbin sighed.

“What happened?”, Han asked worriedly, gesturing at Felix to take Jeongin, who was falling asleep against Han’s back. With the maknae so tired and Felix a rather squeamish person, it would probably be best for them to comfort each other. Looking relieved, Felix hugged Jeongin against his chest, supporting him as he dozed. 

Seungmin explained: “I dunno, woke up to him slamming the doors and found, uh … this.” He gestured awkwardly to the puke on the floor. “Changbinnie-hyung and Lix-hyung woke up too, I guess. Hyunjinnie-hyung is still asleep, the bastard.”

“Let’s be glad at least somebody is getting any sleep.” Changbin sighed and turned to Han, pointing at the closed door with his thumb. “Now, you try.”

Han nodded. He likely had the best chance of getting through to Minho if he was feeling vulnerable. If he was embarrassed and in fight-or-flight-mode … they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

The rapper stepped towards the door, hesitating a bit. He knew that Minho would not like the audience at all and he would not open the door if he knew that there were other members outside. 

“Lixie, I.N.-ah, why don’t you go sleep in Lixie’s room?”, Han suggested, though making sure his tone left no room for arguments, “Binnie-hyung, can you call Channie-hyung? Even if Minho-yah doesn’t want his help, he will come back in an instant and we might have a double win if he falls asleep. Seungminnie, go see if we have some medicine and set up my room with a bucket and stuff. You’re on cleaning duty.”

Seungmin crossed his arms. “Why me?”

“Listen to your hyung, baby”, Han teased, ignoring the fact that the eight days didn’t really mean much. Changbin laughed and pulled the pouting maknae with him. Felix and Jeongin had already gone back to the bedroom.

🧭 

Han knocked on the bathroom door, glad that the sound of vomiting had died down.

“Hyung? It’s just me. Can you let me in?”

“Leave me alone, Han Jisung”, Minho groaned. “I’m fine.”

While Han was happy that Minho was at least acknowledging and not just straight up ignoring him, he couldn’t help the exasperated sigh leaving his lips. He was very worried about his hyung, so much was true, but he was also frustrated by his stubbornness. Of course he couldn’t blame Minho for being sick (what kind of friend would?), but it was also the middle of the night and the earlier they could get back to bed the better.

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up, hyung”, Han stated the obvious. “I know you don’t feel well and everything, but can you please let me in? It’s just me and I’m really really worried.”

Silence followed and Han was about to speak up again, not above begging, when the lock clicked. Han opened the door and slipped inside, locking it again after himself. He knew it would bring Minho a bit of comfort.

Speaking off, the dancer had laid on his back on the cold tiles, looking nearly as white as the floor. He was shivering badly, his whole body moving with the force of his chills, and there were specks of vomit on his chin and sleep shirt. 

Han didn’t even freeze despite his worry at how sick the older looked, just knelt down by Minho’s side. Glassy red eyes looked up at him and suddenly Han had his lap full of sick human. Apparently now that Han was with him, Minho couldn’t care anymore about his image, just how badly he was feeling. Or maybe he didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. Minho was clutching Han’s waist and his face ended up buried in Han’s stomach. Ignoring that the puke was likely on his clothes now too, the rapper rubbed his hyung’s back gently and pulled him closer, feeling the shivers wreck his body.

“Tell me how you feel”, Han encouraged.

“Awful. My stomach is cramping so badly”, Minho mumbled, voice nearly swallowed by Han’s shirt, “I’m so cold and so hot at the same time. Everything hurts from the shivering and I still feel like I’m gonna be sick any second.”

“Oh, hyungie”, Han cooed, knowing that he only got away with this tone of voice because Minho was feeling vulnerable and sick, “try to tell me if you need to puke again. If you can't, it's okay too.”

Han didn’t particularly fancy getting puked on but he knew that Minho was so sick that it was a possibility that he might not be able to prevent it. Exhibit A: the hallway. Besides, Han himself had not the best track record of making it to the toilet or even the bathroom.

Minho nodded and sucked in a deep breath, curling more into himself and clutching Han’s shirt tighter. When Han lifted his shirt and placed his hand against Minho’s bare stomach he could even feel the awful cramping that was wreaking havoc inside. No wonder Minho was so emotional. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just existing together and Han comforting Minho, when the latter tensed. With his hand on Minho’s abdomen, Han could feel how hard he suddenly swallowed. He managed to sit Minho up before the older could even finish his panicked whisper of “Hannie, I’m gonna throw up”.

Minho barely had his head over the toilet bowl when his body jerked forward with a retch and vomit sprayed from his lips, hitting the inside mostly but a few specks landed on the back of the seat. Han placed one comforting hand on back of the quivering dancer and used his other hand to hold back sweaty black hair. Minho whined lowly in his throat before throwing up again and again. All Han could do was rub his back and whisper sweet reassurances. 

It was a long five minutes until Minho was done and by then he was so exhausted he just slumped into himself, nearly hitting his head on the toilet before Han managed to catch him and pull him into his arms.

“It’s okay”, he whispered, “you’re okay. I got you.”

Reaching up, Han grabbed a few wipes of toilet paper and wiped Minho’s mouth. Before he could throw them into the toilet and flush, Minho stopped him with a hand on his wrist and took one of the pieces from Han. For a moment confused, Han watched as Minho blew his nose. He couldn’t be disgusted when he saw the puke that must have come up through his nose and got stuck there on the white paper. Instead he just felt bad for his violently sick hyung.

Minho barely had the strength to throw the paper into the toilet and so Han was left with placing them inside and flushing, while Minho was still shivering in his arms. Han could see the deep exhaustion in his eyes when he propped Minho against his shoulder. 

“I just want to sleep”, the dancer whispered, eyes shining from exhaustion. “But I don’t know if I can go back to bed. I still feel so sick and I’m disgusting.”

“I sent Seungminnie to set up my and I.N.-ah’s room for us with a bucket and old towels and stuff. If you want me to, I could carry you there and we can go back to sleep?”, Han suggested, placing his hand on Minho’s upset stomach again. He had noticed how much it had relaxed the older earlier and he wanted to do anything he could do to help. “Besides, you’re not disgusting. You’re just sick, you can’t help it.”

“No, I mean, I’m soaked in sweat and there is puke on me and I don’t think I could sleep like this. I just wanna be fine.” Minho sniffed and sneezed. “And I think I still have puke in my nose.”

He gagged again but luckily nothing came up. Han handed him more tissues, hoping for Minho that he could get it out. He pressed a kiss against the older’s shoulder as he forcefully blew his nose.

“Better?” He received a nod and Han took the paper from Minho to throw it into the clean bowl.

“Can I … can I take a shower?”, Minho whispered, “I wanna get clean and maybe the heat will help my stomach cramps.”

He looked so pitiful that Han couldn’t imagine saying no, especially since Minho didn’t feel warm and so a hot shower wouldn’t bring a fever up.

It soon became clear that Minho couldn’t stand on his own, too shaky and stomach in too much pain to balance. Instead Han had Minho sit on the shower floor while he cleaned the older up. He took extra care to wash Minho’s hair, knowing the older loved the feeling of somebody playing with his hair, and was cautious to not let any suds run into his eyes. Minho seemed content enough, eyes closed and letting the warm water soothe his aching stomach.

“Come on, let’s get you dry and into bed, hm?”, Han said after a few minutes. He really wanted Minho to get some sleep before he was inevitably up sick again. He didn’t know if it was a stomach flu or food poisoning or something else but with the way Minho had been puking it was clear he would suffer for longer.

He soon had Minho wrapped in a fluffy towel and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I will be back with clothes soon, okay?”

🧭

Han was glad that the puddle of vomit in the hallway was cleaned up by the time he stepped out. He had intended to just hurry to Minho’s room and get him some fresh pajamas but he was intercepted by Changbin and Chan, who seemed to have arrived just then, still in his jacket and shoes.

“How is he?”, the leader asked immediately, a worried frown on his face, “should I go check on him?”

“No need, I think. I think he needs a bit of space, no offense, hyung”, Han said, “I’m gonna get him some fresh clothes and then we’ll go to bed. I got him.”

“He isn’t well…”

“He isn’t but crowning him won’t help”, Han added, “he doesn’t need an audience watching him when he throws up again. No offense, again.”

Chan sighed. “None taken. I guess you’re right.”

“We sent Seungminnie to bed and when I checked on them Lixie and I.N.-ah were cuddling in Lixie’s bed, asleep. I am amazed and impressed that Hyunjinnie didn’t wake up at all”, Changbin added, “come on, hyung, let’s go to sleep ourselves. Hannie got Minho-yah.”

Changbin pulled Chan with him to the bedrooms, high fiving Han on the way to the confusion of their leader. “Mission success.”

Han grinned, happy that Chan was home and would get some sleep, even if the reason for him being home wasn’t ideal. He tiptoed into the room Minho shared with Seungmin and Hyunjin and quickly fetched a new set of clothes, both members deeply asleep.

🧭

Ten minutes later he had gotten Minho dressed in fresh pajamas and tucked into Han’s bed. Seungmin had indeed placed down towels and the designated puke-bucket and had even found the electric heating pillow they originally had for pulled and tense muscles but would serve the purpose of helping a cramping stomach as well. 

“Lay down with me?”, Minho mumbled sleepily.

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you now”, Han agreed and settled behind the dancer, wrapping him in his arms and situating the heat pillow against Minho’s abused abdomen. “The bucket is right below you if you need to puke again. If you feel like drinking, there is a glass of water on the night table. Wake me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Hannie”, Minho breathed and soon snores filled the room.

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Sicktember 2024

[lizaloveslino]

Pairing: bf! Hyunjin x reader x friend group! lesserafim

Summary: Sick day with Hyunjin while having schedules at the company and hanging out with your friends the fimmies

TW: sickness, throwing up

Genre: Sickfic

A/N: Hii I’m Liza! I write SKZ fics…mostly sickfics because they’re my favorite thing ever. If you have any requests lmk <3

You lay beside Hyunjin on your cozy bed in the early hours of the morning, he was still fast asleep which was unusual for him because he was an early bird. You were certain that he had rehearsals with the boys this morning but you shrugged it off thinking that perhaps you’d made a mistake.

Just then your cellophone chimed and when you saw who it was you smiled, it was Yunjin frantically telling you about her new solo song she was working on.

JEN: Y/n!! I finally finished my new song

YOU: OMG IM SO EXCITED TO HEAR IT??

JEN: yupp you should come over to the studio today to get a sneak peak, I’ll be with the girls except for Sakura because she has a photo shoot :)

YOU: I would LOVE to come over

JEN: Kazuha says she’s excited to see you and misses you xx

YOU: AWW omg wife tell her I’m omw

YOU: also um… c-can I bring…

JEN: UGH fine you can bring the boyfriend

JEN: Tell him he wins this time 🙄

YOU: YAY xx see you later

You turned to talk to your boyfriend but noticed that he was still asleep, his hair was stuck to his forehead a little with perspiration and you figured that was odd because it was still cold outside. You pressed a gentle hand to his forehead and felt the heat radiating off of him as he began to stir in his peaceful slumber. Your eyebrows immediately furrowed in concern.

“Jinnie, are you okay baby?” You wondered as his eyes fluttered open and he winced from the sunlight bleeding through the open window.

“Hmm, I’m fine it’s just hot today.” He told you, “what time is it?”

“It’s almost nine.” You answered honestly and his eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“I have rehearsals for the new album today, shit.” He cursed tossing off the covers, grabbing a towel and heading into the bathroom to take a shower, not even bothering to close the door. “Good morning by the way!”

“You’re so…” you chuckled to yourself. “I knew it.”

Just then his phone started going off with messages from the boys group chat rushing him. “Chan says you better hurry up!”

He took a while in the shower but you didn’t think much of it, he usually prioritized his skin care routine and perhaps he was shaving too. You poured at the thought of that last one, he usually asked you to help.

___

Afterwards the two of you had breakfast which consisted of fried eggs, toast and jam, he didn’t eat much which was odd so you tried feeding him a spoonful of scrambled eggs and he cringed.

“Damn, are my eggs that bad hm?” You asked slightly hurt.

“No I just, I have this headache that won’t go away and judging by my light sensitivity I’m guessing it’s another migraine.” He told you and you got up and took his medicine out from the cabinet. “I don’t know if I should take that yet it makes me sleepy and I have to dance.”

“Yeah maybe you’re right and you haven’t eaten much either so it might do more harm than good.” You pondered, “okay I’ll carry it just in case.”

“I’ll be fine don’t worry, it’ll go away.” He reassured you, he was always so good at doing that.

“I hope so.” You sighed, “by the way after practice we’re going over to HYBE to see Yunjin and the fimmies, she wants to show me her new solo song!”

“Yunjin hates me.” He complained with a pouty lip.

“She does not!” You argued with a chuckle, “you’re so dramatic babe.”

“She’s good at writing songs though.” He commented. “Love you twice has been on repeat in your car since.”

“I≠DOLL is way better.” I argued and he shook his head is disappointment. “Hey just because I’m an author doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about music.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He hushed and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

___

Immediately after you got in the car and begun your dive to JYP, Hyunjin made you drive because he said he didn’t feel up to it yet. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, you had to admit that you were growing undeniably worried about him.

Once you arrived at the company you greeted the boys and sat in the corner with your laptop working while they had dance practice. Hyunjin kept lagging behind which was very unlike him and the choreographer was getting frustrated with him as well as his members.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Lee know asked placing a hand on his shoulder, Hyunjin wiped sweat from his forehead looking beyond exhausted.

“Yeah are You okay, you don’t look so good…” Jeongin asked and as Hyunjin’s gaze met yours across the room he shook his head ��no’ in refusal. “Oh.”

“If you weren’t feeling well you never should’ve come Hyunjin-ah, your health is our top priority you shouldn’t push yourself so much.” Chan asked of him shaking his head. “Go home and rest okay?”

“Yeah, feel better hyung.” Seungmin agreed with a gentle smile.

“Okay, I’m sorry again.” Hyunjin apologized as Felix handed him a towel and a bottle of water. “I’ll go…home after Y/n and I go to HYBE.”

“Alright.” Chan nodded.

Hyunjin immediately approached you and sat down next to you, you shook your head in concern. “We don’t have to go…”

“But you’re so excited to see the girls, it’s fine we can go.” He assured you, “I’ll be fine promise.”

“Promise?” You clarified.

“Yeah, let me Just get changed.” He affirmed. “I’ll take the medicine now I think.”

“Okay,” you agreed handing him the a bottle of water and a two pills which he took gladly. “Let me know if you start feeling worse, we’ll go home.”

“Okay.” He agreed. “My stomach feels a little off though, God I hate having migraines because it always makes me feel like this.”

“I’m sorry baby.” You hushed. “It’s probably because you’ve taken the medication on an empty stomach.”

“Yeah probably, it just feels off like my breakfast is moving around.” He told you. “Let’s just go, it’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

__

By the time you arrived at HYBE the fimmies we’re waiting for you in the studio, you hugged them all and Hyunjin said did so as well, having been well acquainted with them since they were such close friends of yours.

You put on the headphones Yunjin gave you as Hyunjin sat down in the corner talking to Chaewon about one thing or the other.

“Watch him for me Chae.” You asked her in secret, “he isn’t feeling well today but he’s being stubborn so just let me know if anything comes up.”

“Aww really? Shame. I’ll be sure to do so, I’ve got him don’t worry.” She assured you giving you a side hug.

As you listened to Yunjin’s new song you were still amazed at how incredibly talented your friend was, how she was able to write such amazing songs.

“This is amazing!” You complimented her and she smiled.

“You mean it?” She lit up, “I was so uncertain about it.”

“No I mean it you did well.” You comforted.

Just then Chaewon tapped your shoulder and she had a worried look on her face,

“What is it Chae?” You asked her taking off your headphones. “Is it Hyunjin?”

“Yeah he said he’s really not feeling well.” She told you, “you can go home you know? We love you for coming but it’s okay!”

“Yeah Y/n it means so much to me that you showed up despite everything.” Yunjin thanked you.

“Of course I had lots of fun, let me go check on him.” You told them and made your way over to the couch Where Hyunjin was seated, his skin was pale and his hair stuck to his forehead. “Hi baby, you okay?”

“No I feel nauseous my head is killing me, I don’t feel good.” He told you, tears collecting in his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day.”

“No you’re not love don’t talk like that,” you attempted to comfort him, “lean your head on my shoulder it’ll make you feel better just close your eyes. “Chae is driving the car closer to the entrance so you don’t have to walk far.”

“Mmm.” He sighed leaning against you and placing a hand over his stomach.

“Migraines are the worst, I’m sorry.” Yunjin apologized. “Feel better Yeah?”

But Hyunjin was so out of it he could barely hear her, he burried his face into your neck and said, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Shhh, don’t worry you won’t.” You attempted to calm him down but you could hear his stomach doing flips and knew.

“The nearest bathroom is two floors down and the elevator isn’t working today.” Kazuha warned.

“Shit.” You cursed just as Hyunjin gagged and covered his mouth, he shut his eyes as vomit began to deep through his fingers. “Is there a trash can?”

“No I’m sorry!” Yunjin apologized but tossed a towel onto the floor to at least attempt to do the cleaners a favor for what was inevitably happening. “There.”

“He can just throw up there’s no time.” Kazuha told you.

“Just let It Go Hyunjin it’s fine baby, you’ll feel better afterwards.” You comforted him as he let go of his mouth and gagged once more as a thick stream of vomit splattered onto the floor despite the towel. “I’m sorry baby.”

“Y/n…” He groaned and held your hand as he started throwing up again, his watery breakfast making an appearance in front of you as Chaewon arrived with a trash can and stepped back as to not get any on her shoes. He coughed as you put the trash can under his chin and he continued throwing up bile.

“Shhh you’re okay.” You hushed.

“I’ll call the cleaners.” Kazuha volunteered leaving the room.

“I’ll call Chan and tell him you can’t make practice tomorrow too.” You told Hyunjin as he nodded silently, saliva dripping from his mouth and vomit through his nose. “You’ll be okay.”

After the whole ordeal at hybe you and Hyunjin went home and you helped him take a shower before settling into bed, he fell asleep fast and you held him close to you. “Sleep well angel.” You hushed. And he did just that.

[zz-skzz]

it’s giving fic vibes…

~skz lalala mv making 3:48

[obsessedwithkpopfics]

Hey! Wow always so excited to find a new sickfic blog! I loved your first one with woozi could I possibly request a Stray Kids fic with sneezy Felix, maybe with a newfound allergy or allergies of somesort and caretaking Chan or Leeknow?

Thank you so much!

Sickie: Felix

Caretaker: Minho and Chan

Felix p.o.v

Seungmin had just come back from working with the stylists preparing for our filming. He came back and informed me that it was my turn to go. I went to the room where the stylists were. The first step was getting my makeup down. Chan was sitting in the area next to me getting his hair done. I smiled when he began pouting when they put the foundation on. "You're covering his cute freckles," He said, the stylists laughed, "I'll do light foundation," she assured the leader. He smiled and I grinned back. The leader had always made me feel more comfortable with my freckles.

After makeup, I switched with Chan. My hair went faster than his because they didn't have to be as gentle because my hair is way less damaged.

I went over to the stylists and they began choosing an outfit for me.

showing me my outfit for the shoot. It looked nice in my opinion. Black jeans with a green t-shirt and a white fur coat over it. I quickly changed into my outfit as the others began changing too. After putting on my outfit, and making sure that the other members were ready, the shoot began. Hardly 10 mins into the shoot, I felt a tickle in my nose. I tried to brush it off, mainly because I didn't have enough time to deal with it right now. But as the shoot progressed, I could feel it getting harder to control my sinuses. At one point, when I couldn't hold it back any longer, I turned away from the camera as my eyes fluttered shut. "HhKstchux!- HtksKschux!" I rubbed at my eyes, nose tickling freely now. I was hoping that no one had noticed but Lee Know looked over at me. "Bless you. You okay?" He asked, and I nodded. And the shoot continued.

A few moments later I was doing a shoot with Chan, and at one point he had his arm around me when my nose began tickling again. I nudged his arm off, "Everything okay, Lix?"

"Y-hhh-yeah, hhh- HKtchhu!- KTcShhu!- HXTchu! snf."

"Bless you. You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry"

"It's okay. You sure you're okay?" He looked at me, "Your eyes are a bit pink."

"I'm fine Channie hyung." I sniffled and smiled at him. I wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with my nose, but I didn't want Chan to worry about me. Especially when I couldn't even figure out what was happening myself.

After we finished filming just the two of us, Danceracha met up to film their part. I was beginning to get quite irritated with my nose which was still super itchy, and I swear it was just getting worse. I wondered if I was getting sick. We started to film. As the feeling of a sneeze building up got too unbearable again, I turned away from the others and ducked my head to my arm. "HhktsSchu!- HtsckKShu!- HtKSchChUu!- Ugh." "Bless you, Lix." Said Lee Know. At this point, I didn't even care if they found out something was wrong. I was more preoccupied with my nose. I ducked towards my arm again as the tickle in my nose peaked. "HhTkSchu!- HtkSCHuu!- Ugh, HhktsChsu!- snf." "Lix, are you okay? Do you want a break or something?" Asked Lee Know. "Yes, please hyung," I said, too tired to deny anything. I left the filming area and was met with Chan holding a box of tissues out to me. "Thanks, hyung." He smiled, "No problem Lix. You feeling okay?"

"I felt fine earlier. I'm not exactly sure what's going on. My nose is crazy itchy and I can't stop sneezing. HKtchu!-" The sneeze was harsh and louder than my usual sneezes. Chan seemed to notice and cringed a bit. "Bless you!" I smiled in thanks and took another tissue and blew my nose. "Ugh, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Sounds like an allergy, Lixxie."

"I'm not a-hh-lerg-hh-ic HhKtchu!- KTchu!- ktchHu!- allergic to anything."

"I don't know about that Lix" I heard behind me. I turned around and saw Minho hyung standing behind us. "You're definitely bothered by something."

"Well, the symptoms you have right now are 99% per cent allergies. Let's just try checking out a few things you might potentially be allergic to." Said Chan, and not wanting to argue, I just nodded. "Okay, could you take off your coat? You might just be allergic to it." "I don't think that's likely but sure," I replied and gently took off the coat. As I did so, I could feel the tickling sensation in my nose get stronger again and my eyes closed involuntarily. "Hh…KTschShu!- HhKsTschU!- HhKSchChu!- Ugh." "Bless you. Could you try sniffing the coat? I have a feeling that it's what's causing this reaction." Said Chan and I rolled my eyes but brought the jacket up to my face. Immediately, my nose started tickling like crazy and I quickly brought my arm up to my face. "HhhKTSCHu!- Ahh…HTKchsHu!- HTKsChU!- HhKTSChu!- snf, HhTskChu!-" "Bless you! I think we figured out what you're allergic to now. Do you wanna go home and rest?" Chan asked and I nodded. He gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before walking towards the manager to explain the situation to him. As I waited, Lee Know walked up to me. "Here, I think you might want these'' He handed me a box of tissues." "Thanks, hyung." I sniffled. Chan walked back to us. “I cleared it up with our manager, you can go home early Lix.” I heaved a huge sigh of relief at his words. “Though, you’ll have to go alone as I still have my photoshoot,” Chan added. “I can go with him,” Lee Know said and I smiled gratefully at him. I really didn’t wanna be alone right now. “Wanna go then, hyung?” I asked and Lee Know nodded. We made our way to the company cars.

"I'm sorry to take you away from filming hyung."

"It's okay Lix, I understand that it's pretty miserable to have an allergic reaction. Especially when you've never had one before. I think it's a good idea to get you home. You should-

"HhtSHhu- ktSCHu- ktCHShu- tktCHshuh"

"Bless you! Let's get you home and showered off so you can stop sneezing so much."

"Yeah, I'd like that. I feel pretty awful." He gave me a sympathetic smile and patted my shoulder as I blew my nose. He cringed slightly. "Sorry it's so gross."

"You're not gross Lix, you're having a pretty serious reaction to an allergen. There's nothing gross about that." I smiled, thankful for his sympathy.

Once we got back to the dorms Minho hyung sent me straight to the bathroom to shower. Once I finished showering, I made my way to the couch where I saw Lee Know making some Ramen. I sat down next to him. He handed me the Ramen. "Eat up, Lix. You're gonna need it. Then you can go straight to bed." I nodded gratefully and started eating. Halfway through, I felt the annoying itch return to my nose and I quickly turned away. "Hhkktschu!- Hh…HtskKschu!-"

"Bless you!"

"Thanks" I finished eating, once I did Minho hyung took the dish away, "Okay, time for bed." I walked to my room and changed into my pajamas. A few minutes later Lee Know came upstairs and tucked me in. "Thanks hyung." I said. " Anytime, Lix." He smiled.

💖👾

[jeongin-central]

Just Soft Baby YoonHope/Sope:

Yoongi likes watching the other kids play. He likes it when they laugh and have fun; it makes him happy to see them happy.

One boy especially is having a lot of fun. It seems like the sun is dimmer whenever the boy smiles his heart- shaped smile, and Yoongi finds that he’s unconsciously smiling whenever he sees him. He looks back down at the virtually illegible handwriting and reads the lines, his dark eyes critical for an eight year old. The warmth on his skin makes him relax, and he leans back in the bench as he flips the pen between his fingers.

(The reason he’s sitting, and not running around playing, is because he fell the last time he was playing, and his leg still hurts in its white wrapping.)

He hears the wood chips crunch and looks up. It’s Sunshine Boy, as he has so affectionately named him in his head.

Sunshine Boy tilts his head, sitting down next to him. “What happened to your leg?” His voice is as sunshine-y as his smile, which is gone in favor of a pout.

Yoongi shrugs, then says, “I was playing, and then I fell and hurt myself on accident.”

Sunshine Boy’s eyes widen. “Are you okay?”

“Yep.”

Yoongi kind of wants Sunshine Boy to go away, to go have fun, so he can see the beautiful, heart-shaped smile again, but he also wants the other boy to stay, to spend more time with him. Yoongi’s lonely, and his brother and parents are busy working. He likes human company.

But he wouldn’t dare admit that out loud.

“Well…” Sunshine Boy says slowly, “Do you want me to stay with you? You look lonely.”

Yoongi hesitates, then says, “Wouldn’t you rather play with the other kids?”

Sunshine Boy smiles again, making Yoongi’s lips curve up. “I want to stay.”

“But we don’t even know each other,” Yoongi protests weakly.

“Then let’s change that!” The boy holds out his hand. “I’m Hoseok, but everyone calls me Hobi.”

“Yoongi. I’m Yoongi.”

“Hi Yoongi!”

Someone comes over and says, “Are you coming back to the game, Hobi hyung?”

“Not right now, Jiminie. Tell Channie and Minho I’m out for now.”

“Okay.” Jimin pauses, then smiles at Yoongi. “Hi! I’m Jimin.”

“Yoongi.”

Jimin waved goodbye before running back to his friends, and Hobi and Yoongi were left alone.

Alright I’m leaving now bye-

[dudadragneel]

Hello, guys! It's me!

Sorry for going MIA again, there's just a lot going on 😅

But hey, another fic for you!

This one was a request from @fairyniceyeah !

I'm sorry this took AGES to be ready and posted....(Insert here Sponge Bob square pants "2000 years later")

also I'm sorry if this request took a certain turn...

STP - Standard Temperature and Pressure

BEHIND THE BEAT

Before becoming an idol, Minho was a professional dancer and a backup dancer for BTS, so dancing was a serious topic for him.

He'd always participate in the creation process of their choreographies and it always had to be perfect. Of course they had fun, but when it was time to get serious, they got really serious.

Whenever they had to spend so much time inside that practice room, dancing for hours on end, they remembered their trainee days.

And those days weren't one bit easy.

They had a choreographer but the one who'd mostly work on the choreographies, work with the boys and guide them through it, was Minho.

And when he entered dance practice mode, he could be as scary as pre-debut Chan. So much so that even Chan would get a little scared sometimes.

It was honestly impressive how attentive to details and mistakes Minho was.

They always wondered "how can a single pair of eyes keep track of movements from seven different people?"

Well, that's just how good of a dancer he was.

It was a tiring job and stressful as well, after all he had to be able to deal with seven different dancing styles and personalities.

Felix and Hyunjin were part of Danceracha so he didn't really worry about those two and they did their best to help Minho to the best of their habilities.

But at the end of the day, if anything went wrong or if things weren't going as smooth as everyone wished, he'd take all the blame to himself.

He had pride on what he did.

If the members weren't getting the moves right, wasn't him a bad teacher?

That's exactly how his mind worked, despite everyone trying to tell him he was doing a perfect job.

This time they were preparing for a really big comeback that would be followed by a tour, which meant: no time to rest, no openings for mistakes.

The boys gathered at JYPE's famous cafeteria to have lunch and discuss some of the things they had to work on.

Chan was explaining how they'd record the tracks, how much time he'd need to work with the members on their parts etc.

On the other side, Minho was also doing the same, planning out how many hours they'd have to practice in a day and such.

They knew it all too well how hectic it got when a comeback was around the corner, and yet, they couldn't keep themselves from already feeling utterly tired. Even if they hadn't done much yet.

Sometimes they'd wonder how in heavens they decided on that career and how it would be to just live a normal life.

But those thoughts would always be replaced with some sort of relief, after all they'd also wonder how it would've been if they never met each other. And that thought alone would make any of them tear up. That was just how much they meant to each other.

After they were done with their lunch, they rested for a little while and went straight to dance practice.

Minho's mind was swimming with ideas for the choreographies and he needed to practice them, he needed to see how the movements inside his mind would be shown in real life.

So the dance practices would usually went like this:

Minho would make the boys stretch long enough so they didn't have any cramps or injured themselves.

And then he'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the moves alone for a moment and sharpening them before gathering the others to teach them.

While he did that, the practice room was utter chaos, the boys were running around or lying down or laughing, just simply being themselves.

And while Minho sometimes wanted to punch them, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that chaos.

- Ok guys! Come on!

After a while, Minho entered his dance practice mode and gathered everyone to start teaching the dance moves.

Most of the time, the group wouldn't make many mistakes, specially Danceracha and more specifically Minho.

Well, sometimes Felix would get some moves wrong or just not do them as sharp as the others but it was due to his back problem. Everyone always reassured him it wasn't his fault but still he was harsh on himself.

And if Felix punished himself like that, Minho did that to himself a 100 times worse. After all, he was a dancer who became an idol, he was a professional dancer before all this, so in his mind, he couldn't make any mistakes.

Yet, while working on the dances for the impending comeback and tour, the universe just seemed to have some sort of conspiracy against him.

Every so often, he'd miss a step, dance off beat, or even forget a little part of the choreography which was really unusual for him.

The boys were already getting worried, they weren't used to seeing him that much out of control of his own movements.

And he was starting to get stressed, really stressed.

Whereas Chan's anger would make him raise his voice a bit and use a harsher tone, Minho's was a more silent one.

Sometimes he wouldn't even mutter a single word.

There would be just this aura surrounding him and whenever one of the boys would dare approach him, he'd just look them dead in the eye.

Like a tiger looking at its prey.

And that was warning enough for the others to back off. In these type of situations, Chan was the only one who could break through Minho's walls and attempt to understand his feelings and calm him down.

The dance practice continued for another hour and so did Minho's mistakes.

"Fuck!"

"Why is nothing going right today?"

He thought to himself.

Not once, not even once he managed to dance the entire routine without making a few, as he'd say, dumb mistakes.

Their choreographer didn't know what was going on. Hell, not even himself was understanding what was happening to him.

Minho was getting progressively stressed and angry. He was acting the same way he acted when he was mad at his stage outfits.

Chan and the boys knew exactly where this was going.

The choreographer called for a quick break so that everyone could catch their breath and Chan took this opportunity to try and talk to Minho, and hopefully understand what was going on.

Minho sat down on the couch, throwing his beanie and cursing.

Oh, he was beyond angry. He was fuming.

Chan sat beside him in silence. Analyzing the situation, the leader understood that trying to get him to say something might worsen the situation.

If Minho needed to say something, he would, if not, Chan wouldn't push him into doing so.

- Damn it! Sorry, hyung.

He immediately apologized for cursing in front of his leader.

And Chan saw that as an opportunity to speak to him, careful not to get him more stressed.

- Is everything okay?

Chan asked with such a gentle tone that Minho almost broke down in sobs.

- Yeah, I'm fine.

He answered, a bit colder than he wanted, but he wasnt in control of his body, let alone his mind.

- Okay.

For a moment Minho thought he hurt Chan's feelings since the leader gave a short answer. He'd even risk saying it was just as cold as his.

But maybe it was just his mind, getting annoyed by the littlest thing.

The fact is, deep down inside, he wished Chan would've insist on asking because part of him wanted to tell someone how he was feeling, if he managed to understand what exactly was it.

The other part, the proud one, didn't want to admit that he wasn't okay. It seemed like this part wanted to show the others and himself, that he could handle things on his own, just like Chan.

And he did manage to deal with things on his own a lot of times but he had already asked for help on a few occasions.

Why didn't he want to seek help now?

He didn't know.

His thoughts were starting to eat him from the inside.

And then, the break was over.

In STP, Minho would be happy to resume dancing. But this time, he was stuck between wanting to dance and make up for his mistakes or not dance at all afraid of keep on making mistakes.

Honestly? It had been some time since the last time his mind took over like this.

And he wasn't liking it, not one bit.

To add to his stress and frustration, his whole body was starting to ache and a weird feeling had settled in his stomach a while ago. But he was so frustrated that he didn't even notice.

Great. Now he had to dance afraid of making more mistakes and conscious of the annoying feeling in his stomach.

And just like the beginning of practice, the mistakes just kept coming.

He was so out of tune with his own dancing that he wasn't even able to analyze the other members.

How could he, when he himself wasn't getting the steps right?

He'd just be a hypocrite.

The members however, were getting really worried seeing Minho like that.

Each time they made a mistake, they looked at Minho, waiting for a correction or something but nothing.

And now Minho was feeling even worse than before.

He felt like his body was about to crumble, his vision was kinda blurry and his mind, oh his mind. It was corrupting him from the inside.

At the same time he couldn't exactly see the members properly, it seemed like he could sense everything inside the room.

And he felt like everyone's gaze were locked on him, piercing through his body, as if criticizing him from head to toe.

Members, choreographers, staff, everyone.

And in fact, they were, but not the way he imagined.

They were looking at him concerned, trying to understand what was happening to him.

Practice went on and so did the mistakes. At some point the choreographer questioned him what was happening but he couldn't really answer so he just muttered an excuse.

Although they had a good relationship with their staff, Chan would get angry at them if he thought they were pushing the members into talking or admitting something or just making them uncomfortable.

And Chan felt something building inside him.

The choreographer didn't use a harsh tone nor was he reprimanding Minho, but Chan since sensing something was wrong with his dongsaeng, he became overprotective.

Changbin noticed Chan starting to get restless and discreetly talked to him, whispering so no one would hear him.

- Hyung.

The younger rapper said, touching Chan's shoulder and bringing him back to reality.

- I know what you're thinking. We noticed Minho-hyung is acting strange. But the choreographer is talking to him normally. Please don't get worked up.

- I know, I know.

Chan sighed and then took deep breaths to calm himself down before he talked back to the choreographer, who was not at fault, and created a bad situation.

And quiet honestly, he also wasn't at fault. He was just caring and protecting Minho, after all he was his dongsaeng and he was supposed to be a leader.

When the choreographer seemed satisfied with Minho's explanation, if there really was one, he resumed practice one more time.

By now it was agonizing to keep dancing. Not only was he not getting the steps right at all, he was also slowing down the others, making practice last way longer.

Minho was feeling so utterly frustrated at himself that the last thin line of focus he had, was completely cut off.

His movements became sluggish, he felt his body tingling and his vision was getting more blurry than before.

He just wanted that practice to end. No, the whole day. And start anew the next day.

It was hurting the boys, specially Chan, to see Minho like that. Because he couldn't get through to him earlier and he knew his dongsaeng didn't like to admit to feeling unwell. But this was getting out of hand.

It felt like Minho had been replaced by someone else.

He kept on dancing, like he was on autopilot, still trying to get the steps right.

Then the choreographer called another break.

And that was when everything crumbled.

The others sat down on the ground, some lay down, feeling tired from the last 3 hours of dancing.

Chan, though, kept his gaze focused on Minho.

The younger man stumbled to the side of the room, bracing himself against the wall.

He would dare say he felt like he was about to die.

When the adrenaline started to subside, he became hyper aware of everything he was feeling, both physically and mentally.

He was overcome with guilt of not getting things right and making the others put on an extra amount of unnecessary effort.

His mind was not giving him one moment of peace and neither was his body.

He couldn't breathe properly, he tried to but it felt like there was no oxygen going inside his lungs, as if his chest was being squeezed. His back was heaving up and down, getting faster each passing second.

His whole body felt like jelly and about to shut down, he felt like all his muscles were close to relaxing all at once.

The rapid breathing made him feel incredibly dizzy, his vision was blurring even more than before and he felt unsteady on his feet, thank god for that wall.

And to top it off, his stomach was rebelling against him. Every single emotion he was feeling, was being reflected in his stomach.

It churned and his lunch was sloshing around like a washing machine, he could already taste the bile in his mouth.

He kept his back turned to the others, desperately trying to get a hold of his own body. But it wasn't working.

His breathing was not going back to normal and it made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The nausea was overwhelming him and he tried to fight it back, swallowing convulsively and clenching his fists for dear life. He didn't dare move a muscle and he was actually surprised how he hadn't collapsed yet.

Seeing how his state deteriorated quickly when they took this las break, the members were extremely concerned about him. But at the same time they didn't know if trying to get close to him would be a wise idea.

Almost all of them looked at Chan, desperate for a signal from the leader but before he could raise a hand and nod them a "no", one of them was already missing: Hyunjin.

He and Minho bickered all the time but they loved each other and Hyunjin was just as worried as the others.

He got closer to Minho and placed a hand on his sweaty back making him flinch a little and quickly looking up at him and then dropping his head again, already running out of strength to hold his body.

The younger dancer felt his hyung's back heave up and down quickly and how his hands were clenched in such tight fists, he was worried Lee Know was gonna hurt himself.

Minho tried to focus on Hyunjin's hand on his back for dear life, everything was too overwhelming and he felt like he could faint at any minute. Hyunjin's presence was the only thing that was barely keeping him grounded.

- Hyung?

Hyunjin called out, tilting his head a bit so he could see Minho's face, getting no response.

But the older dancer was in such a state that he wasn't even listening Hyunjin's voice, actually, he wasn't even sure he processed it was Hyunjin who was by his side.

He was basically hyperventilating now and his lunch was threatening to make an appearance really soon.

Minho kept his head low, eyes focused on the ground, fists and jaw clenched, swallowing down the rising nausea. And in the midst of it, trying to get his breathing under control.

But it was no use, it was a battle he wasn't gonna win even if he tried.

Hyunjin moved his hand to his hyung's shoulder, squeezing it and trying to bring him back to earth. And he then positioned himself in front of Minho, lowering himself a bit so he could try to meet his gaze.

But that was the wrong move.

The moment Hyunjin appeared in front of Minho was also the moment he lost his battle against his stomach.

He felt liquid rushing up his chest and hitting the back of his throat faster than he could react.

And then he bent down a little further retching a thick stream of vomit that hit the ground with a sickening sound and unfortunately, got on Hyunjin's shoes.

The younger one was shocked at first but quickly recollected himself while the others rushed to them.

Hyunjin stepped back a bit, trying to stay away from the upcoming mess but kept a firm hand on his hyung's back.

Minho vomited another wave that left him breathless and dizzy.

He was about to lose all strength in his body when Chan and Changbin got by his side and grabbed him.

- Don't worry, Minho-ah, we've got you.

Chan reassured as both him and Changbin gently lowered him down.

- Can someone grab a towel? And some water?

Chan asked and then immediately turned his attention to Minho who was still breathing erratically and gagging unproductively.

- It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay.

The leader cooed, rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down while also brushing the hair out of his face, only to reveal trails of tears on his cheeks.

Chan's heart sunk to the ground when he saw that, because it only meant that Minho was dealing with something that was bothering him so much to the point of crying.

And Minho crying was a rare sight.

Chan also knew that he never liked to show his weakness to the others, not even tears, so he didn't say anything.

One of the boys came back with a towel and put it in front of Minho to cover the mess on the floor and prevent it from getting bigger.

He kept on gagging unproductively and it was clear that it was hurting him.

-Hey, it's okay.

Chan then noticed that Minho was holding it in, he knew that throwing up in front of everyone, members and choreographer and, well, on Hyunjin's shoes had left him mortified.

Even if the mess had already been done, he'd rather hold everything in than continue to display how out of control he was.

And Chan knew that.

- Kids, Hyung-nim.

Chan said with a authoritative tone, though very gentle at that.

And the others didn't need any other word to understand what he meant and quickly left the room. Too many people and too much attention would only worsen Minho's condition.

- There we go, Minho-ah. It's just you and me here.

Minho was still fighting against the nausea, even though it was just the two of them inside the room.

Wasn't he being humiliated enough?

He grabbed the fabric of his pants, gripping it with all his force, trying to contain the nausea by swallowing convulsively and taking deep breaths.

- It's okay, Minho-ah. No one is watching you, I'm the only one here, okay? Throw up if you need to, don't hold it in, it'll only make you feel worse.

Chan reassured, running his hand up and down Minho's back, his touch so gentle it was making him start crying again, though silently.

He slowly allowed himself to start relaxing and by doing that, his stomach immediately responded by contracting.

Minho lurched forward, more vomit escaping his lips and soiling the towel the boys had placed on the ground.

- That's it. You're doing good, just let it all out.

Chan said with a gentle voice while rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down and then in circles, feeling how it heaved up and down with each retch.

Another wave came out, even stronger, coming out of his nose as well and hurting his throat in the process.

And feeling the texture of the food in his mouth as well as the tiny pieces in his nose didn't help, it only triggered another wave.

- Hyung....

Minho said with a weak and shaky voice after the bout was over.

- I know, I know. You'll be okay.

The smell of sick seemed to have impregnated in his nose after coming out of it.

He tried blowing it to see if he could get rid of what seemed to be rice and that caused a round of unproductive retches.

Eventually another wave of putrid vomit made its way out and this one left his body shaking from the effort.

And to add to his misery, he managed to choke on a piece of undigested food and started coughing.

- Don't worry, hyung will help you, okay?

Minho didn't even have strength to answer his leader, he just wanted that to be over with.

Chan changed his approach and started to rub Minho's chest, trying to provide comfort and help dislodge what got stuck in his throat.

The dancer kept coughing and gagging, but nothing was coming up and he knew there was more that needed to get out.

He clutched his stomach because it was hurting so much and it wasn't giving him a break.

- Minho-ah, do you think you still have to puke?

Minho nodded weakly.

- Okay, I'll try something but it might be uncomfortable, okay?

Chan moved his hand from Minho's chest to his abdomen, more precisely to the middle and started to massage it, applying a bit of pressure every time.

It seemed to be working because Minho was gagging again and soon it brought up another bout of sick that mixed with the rest in the already soiled towel.

And Chan returned his attention to rubbing his dongsaeng's back, trying to make the ordeal less excruciating.

Minho still puked a few times and it felt like his stomach was determined to turn itself out. Even in his dazed state he was wondering how there was still things in him for him to vomit.

And Chan was getting worried that Minho's stomach was trying to get rid of all the food he ate in the past few weeks.

After about 45 minutes since everything started, Minho was just dry heaving and still gagging a bit. It really looked like his stomach wanted to get rid of itself.

- That's it. You did great.

Chan murmured to him still rubbing his back in soothing circles and his chest as well.

Minho didn't know why but that felt heavenly and comforting, and if he was being really honest to himself, he didn't want Chan to stop it.

- Let's get you away from this mess, okay?

The leader carefully helped Minho to another area in the practice room and sat beside him.

- Hey, can I go and dispose of that towel? Or can I ask someone to come get it?

Minho nodded a weak no.

He didn't want to be alone and he definitely didn't want to be seen.

- That's okay. We'll deal with that later. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna try some water?

- mhmm

That was the first sound of his voice Chan heard after that long ordeal.

- Here, rinse out your mouth.

Chan said helping Minho take a sip to just wash his mouth and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.

- Hey, do you think you can drink a little bit? Just small sips.

Minho hesitated at first but then nodded but he was too out of it and feeling too weak to hold the bottle.

So Chan gently brought it to his lips, tilting it slightly helping him take small sips. And the cold water helped soothe his throat a little bit, even though his stomach wasn't exactly happy about it.

Chan then grabbed a bucket and set it beside Minho so he could rinse his mouth and well, be there just in case.

None of them wanted that room to get any dirtier and they were feeling pretty bad for the staff who'd clean it after.

Chan gently brushed Minho's hair behind his ear to reveal the trails of tears one more time. He also noticed that his face was flushed, most likely due to the embarrassment and his eyes and nose were red from the crying.

He tenderly wiped away a tear that was running down Minho's cheek with his thumb.

- Hey, Minho-ah....do you want to tell me what happened?

He asked with the most gentle tone known to mankind and that broke Minho once more. He started sobbing but he still didn't want to lift his head.

- It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it now. We'll stay here as long as you want, I won't go anywhere.

Chan said reassuring Minho and putting a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, as if proving his words.

He continued to rub Minho's back in soothing circles as the younger boy continued to cry and for some reason the tears just wouldn't stop falling.

Eventually he started to calm down and the sobs stopped, the only sound was now his sniffing.

Apart from that, the room was completely quiet and like Chan said, he was not gonna pressure Minho into talking, so he stayed silent.

- 'm sorry...

The silence was broken by Minho's weak voice, barely a whisper.

He had his head between his knees, looking at the ground with tears still dropping and creating a small puddle.

- Why are you apologizing, hm?

Chan asked softly, stroking his dongsaeng's hair and patiently waiting for his response.

- Because I messed up....and made you guys practice more than needed....

- There's nothing to apologize for, Minho-ah...

- I couldn't get anything right...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate and-

He stopped to catch his breath as he felt his chest tightening, a sign that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

- Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. You don't need to rush, okay?

Chan reassured as he grabbed Minho's hand and he instinctively squeezed his in return, trying to ground himself.

- Take deep breaths, slowly.

Minho followed Chan's instructions and started to calm down and continued talking.

- Nothing was working and I couldn't even pay attention to you guys and we're so close to the comeback and the tour, this is not supposed to happen....

- Minho-ah, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. And this is coming from a person that does exactly the opposite so I don't think I have much say on the matter hahaha.

Chan joked, earning a weak laugh from the dancer.

- But seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our "off" days, it's completely normal.

- I know, hyung....but-

He was cut off by a sob and then his mind took control again. It flooded with thoughts of not being able to get the steps right even if he tried his best, missing steps during the actual performance, not being able to pour out his 110% on stage.

It was mortifying.

And before he could even notice, he was already having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't stop crying and those thoughts refused to go away.

- They won't stop coming! Hyung, make it stop...

Minho pleaded between sobs and gasps of air.

- Hey, hey, Minho-ah. I need you to breathe.

Chan said placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.

- I- I can't--

- Yes, you can. Come on.

Chan was respecting Minho's space to the best of his habilities, but the situation was now escalating and he had to intervene.

He gently lifted Minho's head and turned it towards him, so his dongsaeng was now facing him.

And it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep his composure seeing him like that.

- Look at me. You're gonna breathe with me, okay?

Minho nodded weakly, although unsure if he'd actually be able to.

Chan guided the dancer's hand towards his chest so he could feel his breathing pattern, while holding his other hand.

- You can feel my breathing. It's slow and steady, right? I want you to try and do the same. I know you can do it.

Lee Know tried to but it was just so hard, it felt he was underwater, trying desperately to take in any air but failing. And his mind just kept on repeating the same thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.

He squeezed Chan's hand until his knuckles turned white, his nails almost digging into his hyung's hand, trying to push those thoughts away.

- Keep trying. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need. But I need you to keep trying, keep on focusing on my breathing.

It took some time, but eventually Minho started to regain control over his breathing. He focused on Chan's breathing as the leader instructed and slowly evened his.

His grip on Chan's hand started to loosen up.

- There we go. Feeling a bit more calm now?

Chan asked wiping away the tears from Minho's eyes and cheeks but never letting go of his hand on his chest.

- Yes...

Minho answered weakly, clearly exhausted and embarrassed about everything that happened.

- Do you think you can talk to me about those thoughts?

- I think so....

Although getting a positive answer it was followed by a silent pause, yet Chan didn't insist.

- I just kept thinking that I needed to do well, that I needed to get everything right and help everyone with their dance. And that we have an upcoming comeback and tour and the choreographies need to be completed by then....and nothing seemed to be working....it was like my body was being controlled by those thoughts and I couldn't shut them up. I didn't want to be a burden and I felt like everyone was judging me for making so many mistakes.

It shattered Chan's heart to hear those words coming from Minho.

- No one was judging you, Minho-ah. No one will ever judge you. We knew something was wrong, that's why we were looking at you, we were worried.

Chan reassured him, running a thumb on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

- I'm sorry...

Minho said with a trembling voice looking down but Chan wasn't having it. He gently lifted his face again.

- Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for feeling weak, for feeling stressed, for being human. You hear me?

The younger boy just nodded, not really having any words to say.

He felt exhausted.

- Come here.

Chan said gently pulling Minho closer to him and embracing him in a back hug.

Minho allowed himself to be completely embraced by Chan, resting his head on his hyung's arm and the older kept his breathing steady so Minho could match it.

And they stayed like that, for minutes, in complete silence, the room quiet apart from their breathing.

He was so exhausted from everything that happened that in a few minutes he fell asleep on Chan's embrace, the same safe and warm back hug he secretly loved.

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

request: Hi! I got really excited coming across your blog just now. Glad to have a new writer in the community! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a sickfic with Minho as the sickie and the Aussie Line as the main caretakers? I was thinking one where he wakes up with a stomachache and is incredibly annoyed for the entire day (maybe he even snaps at a few of the younger when they weren’t really doing anything to warrant it), but despite his nausea and bad mood he doesn’t say anything so the members are left in the dark about how sick he is. Then, everyone agrees to hold a supper together at one of the dorms, and the food and noise combined is the last straw, causing him to throw up in front of everyone. 

Of course, there’s no rush and if you don’t feel up to it you don’t have to worry about it ❤️ Thank you~

hope this is fic turns out to be everything you hoped for! please give me any feedback you have!! <3

No one likes mornings. This particular morning however, Lee Know was woken up before his alarm went off by a strange feeling in his stomach. He didn’t feel nauseous, but his stomach ached and churned. It wasn’t quite awful, but it was certainly annoying. He was already dreading his alarm going off, forcing him to get ready for the day. When his alarm eventually beeped signaling that it was 9:30, he stepped out of bed, the movement making his stomach turn. He threw on a simple outfit of sweatpants and a t-shirt before venturing out in to the kitchen. He hoped that his stomach issues were merely from hunger, and would fade once he had eaten some breakfast. He settled on something simple to fill him up, a piece of toast and had a leftover boiled egg from the fridge.

“Hyunggg,why didn’t you make me anyyyy?”

Seungmin, having just emerged from his room already teasing Minho.

“Make your own breakfast. You don’t do anything for yourself, always making me do it for you.”

“I’m just kidding, I can make it myself.”

He was a little taken aback by Minho’s response. Of course, maybe he was also joking, but based off his tone it really didn’t seem that way. Minho spent the rest of the morning sitting on the couch, only speaking if he absolutely had to as he waited for everyone to be ready. His stomach was still doing flips, so he distracted himself by looking at cat videos until it was time to go.

Eventually, everyone was ready leave to work for the day. Luckily, their schedule wasn’t all that busy today. They had to record some vocals for an upcoming album, followed by dance practice. The boys met up with the other half of the group before climbing into the van to get to work. While driving over, Seungmin leaned over to Chan and whispered, “I think Minho’s a little grumpy today. He barely talked all morning and when he did he scolded me over a silly joke.” 

“He does seem a lot quieter than normal. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Chan replied, glancing at Minho who was staring blankly out the window. 

When they arrived at the studio, they started recording as soon as they could. At first, everything was going very smoothly. Until, it was Lee Know’s turn. His stomach was still bothering him, and the breakfast did not have the affect he had wanted of calming his stomach. Instead, it only made it worse. He had started to develop a headache as well, and singing in that little booth was not helping anything. He started out fine, getting through the first few lines easy-peasy. But then he got to this one line. 

“You need to make that line a little smoother. Can you do it again?”

Chan said through the microphone. 

So he did it again.

“I think it needs to be smoother in the middle. Try it again.”

So he did it again.

“Can you try it again with a little bit of a sharper edge to it?”

So he did it again

“Maybe try it this wa-“

“It’s fine.”

Minho didn’t want to do it again. He just wanted to get out of that stupid little box. 

“But maybe if you tried it with a little mor-“

“I said it’s fine. It’s already got all the smoothness and the edge or whatever. It’s. Fine.”

And it was so hot in there too. If he had to sing that stupid line one more time, he was gonna catch on fire. 

“Just do it one more time Minho. I’m not asking you I’m telling you.”

“Fine.”

So he did it one last time time in that hot, tiny, loud room.

When he finished recording, he just wanted to go home and lay on the floor and cry. His stomach ache was at its peak and he was feeling very nauseous. Instead, he would have to settle for sitting on a kinda sorta comfortable couch in the studio surrounded by his obnoxious, loud, and annoying, ESPECIALLY annoying members. He normally loves his friends and band mates. But right now he just wanted peace and quiet, something he couldn’t easily find around the group. 

Usually, Lee Know would be excited to go to dance practice. It was hard work, but it payed off. It was what he loved to do. Today he dreaded it. While he felt like crap, he danced his hardest and made sure his dancing was still on point, that always comes first. Even with the loud music  combined with the headache and stomach ache, Lee Know gave it his all. 

And then he noticed something. Felix’s footwork was not exactly right. Here he was feeling like he was being punished by Satin himself, and Felix  was over there clearly not working half as hard. He has no excuse. There is no excuse.

“Hang on guys.” 

He said pausing the music.

“Felix, what is going on over there with your footwork?!?”

“Oh yeah sorry, my bad I just tripped over my feet a bit, don’t worry I’ll fix it next time.”

“What if when that happens on stage? There is no next time in a performance. You need to focus Yongbok! Danceracha members don’t trip over their feet.”Lee Know was practically yelling at him at this point.

All Felix said was, “I-I’m sorry..” as a tear rolled down his freckled cheek.

“Now hang on,” Chan cut in “that’s not fair. We all make mistakes- we’re human. Felix did all the rest of the moves perfectly, he just stumbled a bit, you’re the only one who even noticed.”

“Whatever. Just fix it next time”

Felix only nodded in response before they started the music again.

———————————————————————-

“Man I’m hungry.”

Han stated and everyone (except Lee Know) agreed quietly, all exhausted from the day of practice.

“Why don’t we all get together for dinner at our dorm? We can order delivery, I heard there’s a new…-“ Lee Know stopped listening to I.N. talking about food, it only made his queasiness so much worse. This was great. Just great. He was going to have to go back to the dorms, and instead of going back and relaxing he would have to be bombarded by his wild group. Lee Know just wanted to rest and sleep off whatever sickness had come over him.

Once they arrived back at the dorm and the food arrived, they all sat at the table. Everyone was laughing, being loud, and enjoying their meal. Except for one person. At this point, Lee Know’s head was pounding and his nausea was so much worse. Earlier, he swore it was at its peak. It was merely teasing him then. What he had thought was the worst of it turned out to be be a walk in the park compared to how he felt right now. He had ordered fried rice. He almost ordered a bowl of plain white rice, but that would definitely raise suspicion that he wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t want his annoying members to take care of him. he just wanted them to leave him alone. Against his bodies orders, he managed to eat most of his bowl of rice. As the room got louder, so did the pounding in his head. And as everything got louder, he become more and more nauseated. He just wanted everyone to shut up. 

And then, in that moment, much to everyone at the tables surprise, Lee Know pitched forward and threw up a wave of his dinner right back into the bowl in front of him. They were shocked, a chorus of gasps echoing through the room. This finally shut them up. 

Bang Chan shot up from his chair and moved to Lee Know’s side, rubbing his back and trying to comfort him as much as he could. With the next wave, Minho’s violent retching made it pretty hard to aim well, causing a little bit of a mess. But Hyunjin was sitting closest to the trash can, and was quick to grab it and bring it over as a better receptacle for the puke. He continued to sputter up more small waves of sick as his shocked members frantically tried to help him, although the chaos and their voices (now returning to their usual loud volume) was just making it worse. Bang Chan could tell that Minho was struggling with the noise when he winced every time someone spoke with a little bit louder volume. Chan shushed them, in hopes of making is sick member more comfortable. 

“I-I don’t feel good” Minho muttered, keeping his head down. 

“I can see that. Let’s get you to bed.” Chan said, helping his sick friend stand up out of the chair he was sitting in. As they stood, he turned to the rest of the boys. 

“If you don’t mind, could those of you who don’t live here head back to our dorm? I think Minho wants some peace and quiet right now.”

The boys reluctantly gathered the few things they had brought with them and headed back to their own dorm, all worried to leave after seeing Minho’s condition. 

As Chan led his sick member to his bedroom, Felix eventually decided to follow, leaving Suengmin and I.N. to take care of the mess in the kitchen. They didn’t care though, they just wanted Minho to be taken care of.

Felix walked into the bedroom as Chan finished tucking Minho in, now changed into some pajamas 

“Felix, I’m glad you’re here, would you mind staying with him while I get some things to help?” 

“No problem Chan, I’m here to help.”

Chan gave him a quick thumbs up before leaving the room.

Felix sat on the edge of the bed, gently brushing his fingers through his sleepy hyung’s hair. He could tell Lee Know was trying to sleep  but based off his twitching eye lids and pained expression it was clear something was still bothering him. 

“Is your stomach still acting up?”

He nodded and said without opening his eyes,“And my head”

“Don’t worry, Chan is getting some meds for you as we speak.”

Felix didn’t get any response to this, and he hoped that it was because his friend had finally fallen asleep. But he found out he was wrong when the boy quickly sat up, slapping his hand over his mouth. Without skipping a beat, Felix grabbed the trash can Chan had left by the bed and shoved it under Lee Know’s chin. He was just in time, as the poor boy was quickly retching painfully into the bin. He got up a small gush of vomit, before it became evident the boy was completely empty, and was left dry heaving with much force. Felix felt so awful for his sick friend, the harsh heaves and gags were clearly hurting him, especially when he started sobbing and crying. 

“Hyung please stop crying, you’re making yourself worse. Here, drink some water.” the younger boy said, passing him his own bottle of water since Chan hadn’t come back with some for Lee Know yet. Lee Know was hesitant to drink since it was sure to come back up,but he knew that dry heaving was much more painful. Felix wiped away the older’s tears before giving him a sad smile and a hug.Lee Know eventually stopped crying and was released from the hug, just as Chan returned with medicine, water, a thermometer, and some crackers. 

“Hey bud. I’m sure you just want to go back to sleep but can you let me take your temperature real quick?”

Lee Know wordlessly opened his mouth for Chan to insert the thermometer before waiting for the beep. After what felt like ages it finally beeped. 

“39.2 degrees. You must feel awful.”

“I do.”

“I brought you some medicine that should help. I know you don’t want to hear it but you can’t take this on an empty stomach. Can you eat a couple crackers?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you try?It will make you feel better” Felix said. He could see how miserable Lee Know was, and hated to see him  like this. 

“It’ll probably just make me throw up again”

“But maybe it won’t?” Felix was desperately trying to convince Lee Know, but truthfully he had no idea how to. Surprisingly, the miserable boy started to cry again. 

“It’s okay Minho. I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well, but I promise the medicine will help you feel better.” Chan tried to calm his sick dongsaeng down, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“But I-I don’t- want to th-throw u-up again” 

Poor Lee Know. He clearly was very emotional from the fever. He went from grumpy to bawling his eyes out within 10 minutes.

“It will help make you less sick so you won’t throw up so much. But if you do still puke, we’ll be right here with you.” Felix added.

“B-but I was so m-mean to b-both of you today. Why are you b-being s-so nice and c-caring?”

Felix almost wanted to laugh at how emotional Lee Know was. To even think that they wouldn’t take care of him, the fever was definitely getting to him. Felix decided to save his teasing for when his friend was feeling better.

“Minho, you’re sick. If I was feeling as crappy as you are right now, I would have snapped too!”

“Yo-you’re not st-still upset at me?”

“No, we’re not. Right Chan?”

“Right. You know how you could make it up to us?”He didn’t wait for an answer “If you take your medicine and get some rest. Can you do that for us?”

Lee Know accepted his fate and took the medicine with a nod. Once he swallowed them down, he was already half asleep just sitting there, and layed back down onto his pillow. 

Chan and Felix exchanged a glance before staring down at how cute Lee Know seemed to be while sick. 

Bang Chan retreated to his own dorm, entrusting that Felix had it covered for the night, while Felix cuddled in with Lee Know, snuggling up against him, rubbing his stomach and playing with his hair, trying in any way possible to provide comfort, before finally falling asleep there himself for the night. And when Lee Know got sick again in the night, Felix was right there beside him.

———————————————————————

I really hope you enjoyed this fic. please please please PLEASE give me some feedback <333 

much love!💕

[3rachasninja]

This was so sweet and cute 🥺🥺

sick days | lee minho

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hi! this is my first ever post on here,, hehe. constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.

cw: sick reader, petnames, slight cursing, slightly suggestive (??), angstyish oops, mostly fluff! just minho being the cutest bf :3

another hacking cough forces itself from your throat, leaving behind a painful sting and the inability to swallow. a frustrated groan emits you, followed by disgruntled sniffle. you hate being sick. 

sore throats, gross coughs, painful headaches, and a stuffed nose were all a recipe for disaster — especially today. you and minho had planned out the perfect date; a picnic, stroll in the park, and finally a movie. you had looked forward to it all week, barely getting through. only the promise of seeing your boyfriend kept you going.

you turn over on your side, the gentle movement sending another round of pain signals ringing in your head. tears sprung to the corners of your swollen eyes. you were devastated at having to miss your date. blearily, you swung a hand over to the bedside table, blindly searching for your phone. 

once found, you swiped over to minho’s contact. pressing the call button, you slumped back onto your pillow defeatedly. 

“jagi?” came the sweet voice of your boyfriend. “what’s up?” 

an exhausted whimper answers him. “min.. min i’m sorry” is all you can utter. 

his voice instantly is filled with concern. “what’s my love sorry for, hm? is everything okay?”

“no, m’sorry min.. i feel so bad. my head hurts, and i puked earlier, and it —“ another pained sound exits you. “— it hurts.” 

something shuffles over the phone, and your boyfriend is quick to reply. “oh, my poor jagi. i’m on my way, don’t worry.”

you furrow your brows. “wh-what? no no you don’t have to do that, min!” 

“see you in five.”

your eyes rolled as your boyfriend hung up on you a abruptly (like he always does — and it never fails to surprise you). coughing again, you accept that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from coming over. you scan your messy room and groan. you’re sick! you don’t want him to see you like this! 

you swing your legs over to the side of your bed, only pausing when a sneeze erupts from your pinkened nose. you settle your socked feet on the floor and attempt to rise to your feet. 

you sway, blinking harshly as to try to clear the black spots plaguing your vision. maybe getting up wasn’t the best idea..? oh well. 

slowly, you begin to shuffle around your room, picking up discarded clothes and trying to round up any embarrassing wrappers or trash. you’re halfway through folding another t-shirt when your body flashes hot, then cold. the pounding in your head increases tenfold and you drop the shirt in favor of clutching your temples. spots engulf your sight and you sink to your knees, not even attempting to make it to the bed.

you’re sweating. but the ceiling fan above only makes you shiver, goosebumps lining your arms. everything is too bright, and you squint from a combination of a headache and the glaring overhead light that suddenly feels like a thousand suns beating down on you. 

another whimper crawls out of your dry throat. the only thing your fever-weakened mind can think is minho. where is minho? you need him, it hurts it hurts everything hurts —

“jagi?! oh my god, are you okay?” thunderous footsteps make their way to you and you wince at the sudden exclamation. 

cold, cool hands press themselves to your trembling body and you sigh in relief. they stroke through your hair, carding through gently. you open one eye to see who they belong to, but clamp it shut immediately, the bright light making your eyelids pulse.

 you hear shuffling from the side, and one of the hands leave you. you suppress a whine, but something in your expression must be alarming because the voice coos. “oh, baby, i’m just turning off the light, okay?” 

no, it’s not okay. not when those hands are the only thing grounding you, keeping you from melting. however, as promised, the offending light gets shut off, and you hum in appreciation. 

the nice hands quickly return to their rightful place in your hair, and you bravely attempt to open your swollen eyes again.

your boyfriend looks down at you gently. “my poor girl. let’s get you back into bed, hm?”

you nod pathetically, letting him lift you up and place you softly on your mattress. you murmur a quiet thanks and he kisses your sweaty forehead in response. he sits on the side of the bed next to you, placing his hand on your leg and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“have you eaten at all yet?” he inquires.

you shake your head, “no, not yet. i don’t think i could eat a thing without puking it back up, to be honest.”

minho hums at that, scanning your face. he reaches out and places a small hand on your forehead, feeling out your temperature. he frowns.

“i think we need to check for a fever, honey. you’re very warm.”

he moves to go stand and you pout. “don’t leave, please.”

“i’m just going to grab the thermometer and a glass of water, i’ll be right back, okay?”

“be fast!” you plead.

he cards a hand through your hair. “i’ll be so fast, jagiya.”

it feels like an eternity as minho tries to locate the thermometer from outside your bedroom. you shiver again, pulling the closest fuzzy blanket over you and burrowing into it.

and that’s how he finds you when he returns — a sweaty, sick burrito. you watch as he smiles down at you fondly, pulling back the blanket a little to take a look at you.

“think you can sit up for me? need help?” he asks.

“need help, please,” you respond nasally.

minho aids in positioning you up so you’re leaning against your pillow. he holds out the found thermometer and motions for you to open your mouth.

you oblige and he places the thermometer under your tongue. after a few moments, he pulls it out and looks down on it with a displeased expression — like it personally offended him.

“100.” he states, his brow crinkling. “yeah, you’re not leaving this bed.”

you sigh and slump farther into your blanket. “i’d rather hear that in a different situation.”

minho blinks slowly, fondly. “i’ll ignore that, just because you’re sick.”

you stick out your tongue as he rises from the bed to put away the thermometer. he looks down at you, unimpressed, but with a twinkle of amusement in his catlike eyes. “brat.”

“i’m sick!” you whine, “be nice.”

“i am being nice. so nice, in fact, that i’ll ignore this little attitude —“ he reaches down and pokes your forehead, “— because i know that you feel like shit.”

you roll your eyes when he’s turned and putting the thermometer in some drawer, but deep down you’re very grateful he came over to take care of you. for all his teasing, he really does treasure you. you still feel bad for canceling the date.

in some feverish, dramatic mood change, tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot and uncomfortable, and you sniffle. not only did you cancel the date, you’re acting like a brat instead of thanking minho for looking after you.

“m’sorry,” you croak from your cocoon of blankets.

minho turns around sharply and scans your face quickly. he strides over to the bed and sits beside you. “what?”

“m’sorry!” tears begin to trickle down your face, sticky and unwanted. you reach up to swipe them away.

minho’s hand reaches out, grabbing onto your arm and lightly tugging you into his chest. “silly girl. what are you sorry for?”

“f’making you come over and take care of me and being a brat and not saying thank you!” you rush out, slurring some words.

a chuckle shakes minho’s chest. “oh wow, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“i’m sorry!”

“hey, hey,” his joking manner disappears when a fresh wave of tears erupts from your eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re sick. you have a fever, baby. you aren’t being a brat, i’m sorry i called you that when you weren’t feeling well.”

you peek up at him. “you mean it?”

minho doesn’t respond, just pulls you tighter into his chest and kisses the top of your hair. his cool hand rubs on your back soothingly under your shirt. he gently lays back onto your bed, cradling you to his chest.

“try to sleep some of this off. take a nap,” he orders you lightly. “i’ll be right here.”

at his words, you snuggle into him. he reaches to the side and pulls a blanket over the two of you. just before sleep takes it’s hold over you, you look up at him, catching his eye.

“thanks for being here, min. i love you,” you murmur, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you begin to succumb to sleep.

the last thing you hear before sinking into feverish dreams is, “anytime, baby. i love you more.”

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yas! ok! first post done, please lmk what u think!!!1 reblogs and likes are appreciated:3

[fairyniceyeah]

🧭🐶 You got me losing patience

Title from Case 143 (Stray Kids)

Summary: Seungmin slips on stage and to make matters worse, it’s because he is already sick with the stomach flu. Getting treatment at the hospital doesn’t go well.

CW: emeto, injuries, blood, needles, hospitals

Sickie/Whumpee: Seungmin Caretaker: Bang Chan + Minho/Lee Know

🧭🐺

“Channie?”, Minho asked as he approached the leader. Chan turned around, the smile slipping from his face as he saw the worried face of his oldest dongsaeng.

“Minho-yah, what’s wrong?”, he asked, abandoning the jewelry he had started taking off. They had just finished their Case 143 Mnet Comeback-Stage and now that the nerves weren’t high anymore, he had looked forward to a relaxed evening. Apparently it wasn’t to be so, judging by the way Minho was chewing on his lower lip.

“Have you seen Seungminnie? Did he go with the medics already?”, Minho asked and for a moment Chan swore his heart had stopped beating in his chest. Why would Seungmin go with the medics? Had something happened he had not noticed? How couldn’t he have?

“Wha … why?”, he stammered, heart pounding faster now, seemingly trying to cancel out the skipped beats.

“Oh, right. You couldn’t have seen. He slipped while doing the spin we do during Changbinnie’s rap. I saw he twisted his ankle but he seemed to be able to continue. Now, however, I can’t find him”, Minho explained. 

“I … no, I haven’t seen him”, Chan said nervously, “I thought he was behind me when we left the stage. Hyung?” He called over a manager. “Did you see Seungmin-ah?”

The older manager frowned and shook his head. “No, I haven’t … you don’t know where he is either?”

Chan and Minho shook their heads. At least the rest of the group hadn’t noticed the rising tension yet. Hyunjin and Felix were sprawled on top of each other on a couch in their waiting room with Hyunjin and Jeongin talking quietly. Han and Changbin were dancing around full of energy, celebrating. All of them were swarmed by staff members carrying make-up kits, fans and towels. 

“No, we uh …”, Chan stuttered. He felt awful. It was bad enough that he apparently was missing a member in a space that - while just for idols - was more public than he liked. The building was huge, it was easy to get lost and there were other groups all around them, all stressed and under pressure. 

Seungmin had never fared that well with emotional stress and confrontations. If he was hurt to add onto that … Chan did not want to think about how the young vocalist must be feeling. 

“Maybe he went to the bathroom”, Chan lied - well, it wasn’t really a lie. Maybe a white lie. There was a chance that Seungmin was in a bathroom after all. “We’ll go look for him.”

The manager, having been with them since the beginning, knew that Chan would never stay back when a member was concerned. So he just sighed and nodded.

“Be safe, stay together and call if you don’t find him in the next fifteen minutes.”

Without any thought to the other five members, Chan and Minho slipped out the door.

🧭🐺

Sometimes Chan hated being right - the building was huge and built like a labyrinth. While he knew that Seungmin had a good sense of direction, he didn’t know what state the younger was in. If he truly was injured he would likely choose to hide, not liking showing vulnerability, especially not surrounded by sunbaes and hobaes.

They had checked the bathrooms first, hoping that maybe Seungmin had decided to hide there. It had been a futile hope - they were crowded and it was clear that Seungmin would never go there then. So they had resigned themselves to walk through every hallway and pray they found their vocalist soon. Chan could tell Minho was nervous and he himself was barely faring any better.

At least they quickly understood the layout of the building. All horizontal hallways going off from the main hall would have waiting rooms at the front, with storage rooms in the back and would end with a dead end. 

The leader had already lost count of how many hallways they had been in hoping that Seungmin was somewhere between the stage and their own waiting room. Had it been five? Six?

“Do you hear that?”, Minho suddenly asked, grasping Chan’s jacket and shushing him. For a moment all Chan could hear was the bustling of a crowded building but then he heard a whimpering sound at the end of the hallway they were in. 

“Do you think that is him?”, Minho whispered, eyes wide.

Chan had never heard Seungmin make such a sound before but they also were running out of options. He was scared of the state he might find the younger in if that would reduce him to … this.

“I … I don’t know. Let’s check.”

They walked towards the end of the hallway, trying to hear where the sound was coming from. It definitely came from the end of the hallway, three or four doors down. The last door was open and the sound seemed to come from there. Grasping each other's hands tightly, they peered inside.

Yet … nothing was inside the room, nothing where Seungmin could hide. 

Yet … the whimpering was louder than ever, now joined by a sniffling sound. 

Stepping outside the room, Chan closed the door with a sigh. He should have known.

There, on the hallway floor, squeezed between the wall and the previously open door, sat their missing vocalist curled into himself with his head buried in his knees. Seungmin looked so young like this, hugging himself tightly.

Minho gasped beside him but Chan paid him no mind, too focused on their youngest.

“Hey, Min-ah”, Chan whispered and knelt down by his dongsaeng’s side. Seungmin ignored him or maybe hadn’t even heard him. Reaching out, Chan gently cupped Seungmin’s cheek with his palm, his pinky under Seungmin’s chin. There was undeniable heat radiating from the younger. 

A fever? Chan wondered briefly how high it was and how that had happened. Had Seungmin been feverish before the stage already? Or was his injury that bad?

They could figure that out later. As Minho sent a text to the manager, Chan lifted Seungmin’s head so they could look at each other. Nevertheless, the vocalist refused to meet his eyes. Up close Seungmin looked even worse - face ashen pale and streaked with snot and tears. Trailing his eyes downward, following Seungmin’s gaze, Chan wondered how he had not noticed the smell earlier. Behind him he heard Minho mutter a worried: “Oh, Min-ah.”

There was a watery puddle of vomit on Seungmin’s pale pink sweater vest, staining it darker. It seemed to be mostly liquid, a bit of what looked like rice visible, but that made it clear how unwell Seungmin truly was. It seemed like he had been feeling sick earlier too - that at least would explain the lack of food in his throw up.

Chan felt his heart break for his ill dongsaeng and at the same time he was beating himself up. How could he have not noticed that Seungmin was not feeling good? But regrets were for later, now they had a sick and injured dongsaeng on their hands.

“Hyungies?”, Seungmin rasped, his voice raw and wet from crying. He sounded awfully young, younger than the sixteen year old Chan had met years ago. There was desperation to his voice and deep, deep exhaustion.

“We’re here, baby”, Minho quickly reassured, kneeling down beside Chan and using his own sleeve to wipe at Seungmin’s wet face. It was cute really, how he was able to quickly change from his loud, boisterous camera personality to the caring and sweet soul only they were able to experience. “We got you.”

Chan nodded at that, stroking back sweat-soaked hair. “We’re not going anywhere. Can you tell hyungs what happened?”

Seungmin looked up at them, eyes watering with tears that spilled over and trailed down his cheeks before Minho was able to wipe them away.

“I … I wasn’t feeling well all day and, uh, I threw up this morning and earlier before sound check. I thought I could push through but then I twisted my ankle during the dance and I was feeling so sick and it hurt and I was so overwhelmed and…” The words spilled from Seungmin’s lips like a waterfall, coming faster with each second and causing him to choke on air. He coughed hoarsely, nearly gagging again.

“Oh, baby. Why didn’t you say earlier?”, Chan whispered, hurting with Seungmin but also so worried why the younger hadn’t trusted him with his sickness. At this point he wouldn’t even have cared if Seungmin had entrusted himself to any of the other members but himself or staff even, just to anybody to stop this from happening. “I could have figured something out.”

“I wanted to … but you were so stressed earlier with Sungie’s anxiety and … and I wanted to perform anyway. It was too late to change things and I … didn’t want to be left out”, Seungmin mumbled.

Chan sighed. He knew it was difficult for his dongsaeng to just stop and prioritize his well-being. He also knew that Seungmin had a hard time with his status as main vocalist even after all the years and felt the need to work harder than anyone else to not let anyone down. It was still hard to see his baby so unwell, alone and hurt in a random hallway after having thrown up on himself.

“I will always have time for you, Min-ah. If not, I will make time. You don’t owe anybody your health either…”, Chan replied, wanting to add more and wipe the insecurity from the younger’s mind. Minho’s hand on his knee stopped him.

“Seungminnie, do you think you can make it back to the waiting room so the medics can look you over?”, the dancer asked, shooting Chan an apologetic glance. I’m sorry for interrupting you but he needs medical intervention before we talk about his mental state. Chan nodded. You’re right.

“Hyung, my ankle really hurts”, Seungmin admitted, “I … I don’t think I can walk.” His lip wobbled dangerously and Chan was quick to intervene before he started crying again.

“How about I piggyback you?”, the leader suggested, “I know it’s not ideal but I really think you should get looked over as soon as possible.”

“Everyone will see…”, Seungmin whispered, looking down at his lap and cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

“Everyone will see an exhausted idol who did his best and needs some help from time to time, like everybody else”, Chan reassured. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time any of the staff or other idols had seen a sick or hurt member from a different group backstage. It was a sad reality in their line of work. “If it will make you feel better, you can take off your sweater? You could wear my jacket instead?”

Seungmin nodded gratefully, cheeks red in embarrassment. Quickly Chan took off his own black performance jacket while Minho helped Seungmin pull the soiled sweater vest over his head. It was not as difficult as they had feared, the sick already having seeped into the fabric and so not at risk of dripping everywhere. Still, it was disgusting - and Chan had to give Minho a lot of credit for schooling his face into a neutral expression. He was so happy his dongsaeng could take the soiled item off. 

Quickly he wrapped the shivering Seungmin into his own warm performance jacket. The stylists would just have to deal with the loss.

“Are you still feeling nauseous?”, Minho asked worriedly, holding onto Seungmin’s hand. The dirty shirt laid abandoned on the floor.

“Kinda, yeah”, Seungmin whispered, swallowing.

“I’ll try to be steady, okay? Let us know if you need a break”, Chan said with a tiny smile. It was not ideal to carry a sick, queasy and easily embarrassed member through crowded halls but they had to make due. 

Seungmin nodded. 

Without further ado, Chan turned around, trusting Minho to help Seungmin on his back. Within a minute he had a warm weight on his back, arms hooked under Seungmin’s thighs and the younger’s face pressed into his neck. He was uncomfortably warm and already Chan was sweating again after the show - Seungmin’s temperature really must be through the roof. Briefly Minho helped Chan to his feet then he vanished to the side, one of his hands on Seungmin’s back in a gesture of comfort.

🧭🐺

The walk back - now that they knew where they were going - was much quicker. To their luck they didn’t meet many people in the hallway, just an idol group they didn’t recognize giving them worried glances. 

Minho opened the door to the waiting room to let them in, only to be nearly bowled over by a worried Han. “Hyung, where were you? The managers wouldn’t say and I was wo … what happened to Seungminnie?” The rapper’s eyes went wide when he saw the younger carried in on Chan’s back. 

The rest of the members stared in shock for a second before rushing over to try to check on Seungmin. Chan felt Seungmin’s grip on him tighten and there was a quiet whimper coming from him. He understood, he too wouldn’t want to be crowded in a situation like this. Seungmin was already overwhelmed and overstimulated - a bunch of rambunctious young men, even if caring and his best friends, wouldn’t do him any good.

“Changbinnie?”, Chan called over the chaos, “please take the others to the car and go home. Minho and I will stay here while Seungmin-ah is getting checked over by the medics, okay?”

Changbin looked rather reluctant to leave the vocalist’s side but he nodded, quickly herding Hyunjin, Han, Felix and Jeongin with the help of a few managers to the door. Soon only Chan, Minho, Seungmin and one manager were left. 

Chan walked over to a couch, carefully setting Seungmin down. The younger immediately curled into himself and as Minho sat down on the floor next to him, he grasped his hyung’s hand tightly. He had his eyes squeezed shut and with the tears on his pale face and red flushes on his cheeks he looked the definition of pitiful. Chan sighed and made Seungmin stretch out his injured leg so he could elevate his foot on a pillow and the armrest of the couch. The younger just whimpered a bit, staying silent otherwise. 

“What happened?”, the manager asked, frowning, and already on the phone with the building’s medics. 

“Stomach flu, I guess”, Chan started to explain, “he said he threw up a few times today and then during the dance he twisted his ankle.”

The manager hummed and gave the information down the line to the medical operator, nudging a trash can closer to Seungmin with his foot.

🧭🐺

They had only waited for a few minutes - Chan at Seungmin’s head and playing with his hair, Minho holding his hand and whispering reassurances, and the manager in the corner to not overwhelm the vocalist - when suddenly Seungmin’s eyes shot open.

“Hyung”, he gasped, flailing around. He hiccoughed and then Minho shoved the bin under his face, seconds before his stomach contents spilled from his lips. The sound of the liquid hitting the bottom of the trash bin was enough to make Chan nauseous just from watching. Seungmin gagged and another wave of brownish vomit came up, splattering into the previous mess.

Tears trailed down the young man’s face as he tried to get a breath in before he threw up again. It was awful to watch.

“Chan, hold this”, Minho said in a small moment of respite, “he needs to sit up more.” 

Chan nodded and held the trash bin under Seungmin’s chin while Minho struggled with helping Seungmin sit upright, without touching his injured foot. It was obvious that the vocalist was really dizzy, clutching at his head in desperation. 

Minho barely had time to sit down next to him on the couch and wrap an arm around him, so Seungmin could lean on him, before the singer gagged harshly. It was a painful sound and Chan didn’t want to imagine how badly it must be hurting his throat. 

More sick came up without much more warning, spraying out of Seungmin’s mouth and nose as the young man sobbed. He was clutching at the bin with white knuckles.

Seungmin had never been good with vomit - despite the frequent migraines he suffered from. When he wasn’t half-blind with pain, vomiting was something that shook the younger to the core. He wasn’t necessarily emetophobic but he also was careful to take care of himself so he wouldn’t be sick. If he was sick despite trying hard to avoid it he always wanted somebody by his side. Still, his insecurities and fears of being a burden to his hyungs, had him ignore his mental well-being before, as he had today.

Chan was just glad he had somebody to hold him now.

“Hyung”, Seungmin whimpered, tearing Chan out of his thoughts. Chan let go of the bin with one hand to soothe the tight grip Seungmin had on the rim. 

“It’s going to be okay, baby, we’re here”, Minho assured, rubbing Seungmin’s back.

As Seungmin panted over the bin, seemingly unsure if he was about to throw up again, the door opened - admitting a medic. 

“Are you done?”, Chan asked gently, trusting the manager to speak with the paramedic before they tried to get closer. In this vulnerable position, Seungmin surely would not appreciate more eyes on him and prying questions.

“I don’t know, hyung, I don’t …”, Seungmin started but was cut off as his throat contracted again and he dry-heaved. It was pretty clear that he was basically empty.

“You’re going to be okay, baby”, Minho whispered, “let go of the bucket, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine.”

He gestured at Chan to take the bin away, which the leader gladly did. He didn’t think he could watch Seungmin so miserable much longer without bursting into tears himself. As he turned back around, Minho had Seungmin straddling his lap and the vocalist’s fist clutching at the stage outfit he was still wearing. Seungmin was crying silently into his shoulder with Minho running circles over his back.

🧭🐺

“Chan-ssi, the paramedic needs to take a look at Seungmin-ah now”, the manager said after a moment. 

Chan nodded and stood up from his position on the floor. “Min-ah”, he said quietly, placing a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder, “I’m sorry but can the medic check on you now? I promise you’ll feel better afterwards.”

Seungmin whimpered and clutched at Minho even more tightly. The dancer looked up at Chan with a worry written all over his face. It was such an un-Seungmin-like behavior but then again, the younger really was not feeling well. It could also be attributed to the fact that he was, after all, burning up.

“Seungmin-ssi”, the young, female medic addressed the vocalist in a comforting voice, “you don’t even need to let go of your hyung, okay? I just need you to turn a bit so I can check your foot over, hm?”

After a few tense seconds, Seungmin nodded and let Chan move him so he was still half on top of Minho but his legs were stretched out so the medic had easy access. Chan settled down on the floor next to them, pushing the disgusting bin away. The manager nodded at him and took it from him, leaving to empty it out. Chan placed one hand on Seungmin’s back and the other on Minho’s arm. The dancer gave him a shaky smile in thanks.

“I’ll take your shoe off now, okay?”, the woman said and Seungmin jerkily nodded. He didn’t make a sound despite the pain, obvious in his tense shoulders and the way he clutched Minho even tighter. 

🧭🐶

Seungmin buried his face in Minho’s chest, wishing he could just melt into his hyung. He was feeling terrible, his stomach churning, his ankle throbbing and even his arm was still hurting. He just wanted to go home. The paramedic was kind and careful but still it hurt when she touched and moved his ankle. Mino rubbed his back and Chan offered his hand to hold.

“Press as tightly as you need, Min-ah”, Chan whispered, “we got you.”

Between all the movement and the fever Seungmin was sure he had, at some point, passed out or at least spaced out all the way. Awareness returned to him when the medic let go of his foot and stood up.

“I can’t tell for sure if it’s broken or not. You need to go to the hospital for a CT or MRI scan to be certain. Until then, you can decide if you want an IV with pain meds first or not. I’d give up oral painkillers if you hadn't been throwing up, especially because they will put a new line in the hospital anyway. But considering your state I’d suggest the IV.”

Four pairs of expectant eyes turned to Seungmin and he shrunk under their glances. He didn’t want an IV. He’s never been a fan of needles and the thought of metal underneath his skin nauseated him. Besides, getting one now and then needing another one at the hospital - no, he didn’t think he could deal with that. He also didn’t want to go to the hospital but he knew none of his elders would allow it and deep down he knew he couldn’t avoid it anyways.

“I’m okay until the hospital.”

“Are you sure, Min-ah?”, Chan asked, kneeling down in front of Seungmin and taking his hands in his, “it will hurt a lot and we don’t know how soon they will take care of you. Being an idol only means privacy at the hospital, not necessarily better or faster service.”

“I’m sure”, Seungmin said, nodding resolutely. His future self would have to deal.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

🧭🐶

Chan carried him to the company car, gently helping Seungmin get situated while Minho took the opportunity to slip into the other backseat next to the injured vocalist.

“Hey, I wanted to sit next to Seungmin-ah”, Chan complained, pouting a bit. Seungmin shakily laughed at his expression of betrayal. 

“Tough luck, Bang Chan-ssi”, Minho teased and clasped Seungmin’s hand in his. “I want Seungminnie-time too.” 

It was ridiculous seeing the two oldest members play-fighting over him like that but it warmed Seungmin’s heart. It felt good to be loved this deeply. When Chan first approached him about joining his team, Seungmin hadn’t even dared dream of becoming this close to the members. 

The lighthearted atmosphere was soon shattered though. Seungmin didn’t have a tendency to get carsick but with his stomach already upset as it was he felt every movement of the car and every bump in the street. As a rather deep pothole caused a burp to rise up his throat, Seungmin pressed the back of his free hand to his lips, partly nauseous and partly embarrassed. He always felt embarrassed by these bodily functions no matter how long he had been living only with young men roughly his age.

Along with the burp, nausea suddenly bubbled in his stomach again. Seungmin didn’t want to be sick again, he really really didn’t. But the heat that encompassed his whole body and the cold sweat starting to form at his temples hinted at a different outcome. His throat was tight, swallowing suddenly a difficult task. 

Seungmin tapped the inside of Minho’s wrist and bent over, the other arm moving from his mouth to hold his stomach. He hoped it was enough for his hyung to understand what he needed. He didn’t think that only words would come out if he tried to speak at that moment.

Luckily Minho understood what he wanted and handed over the trash bin they had borrowed from M-Net’s waiting room. They had stored it in Minho’s footrest to allow Seungmin a bit more freedom and so he could accidentally hit his foot against it. Now Seungmin placed it onto his lap, curling over it. He was so exhausted, he let his head rest against the rim - unable to hold it up further. 

A warm hand appeared on his back again and another ran through his hair, trying to soothe him. Another hand came to rest on his knee - Chan likely. Normally Seungmin would have felt overwhelmed with all the touches but now it was just comforting.

Another speed bump brought him out of his thoughts and before he even realized what happened, a mouthful of bile hit the bottom of the bin. The stench was burning his nose and Seungmin had to press his eyes shut as he saw the remnants of rice mushed up - he hadn’t eaten since breakfast but apparently even the rice he had shoved down back then hadn’t all come back up yet. 

“It’s okay, baby”, Chan’s comforting voice said. “We’re nearly there.”

Nearly there turned out to be another ten minutes but in retrospect Seungmin had to thank his leader for his lie. Knowing they would soon be there helped him keep calm the rest of the ride.

🧭🐶

The wait in the hospital was excruciatingly long. A nurse had ushered Minho and Chan, who was again carrying Seungmin, and the manager into a private examination room - but already apologetically saying that just because they were in an examination room the wait might still be a long time. 

It was. Seungmin was just glad he was allowed to lie down on the gurney, not sure if he would be able to stay upright in a chair. It was terribly cold in the room - even the members without high fevers (the nurse who had taken his vitals had announced it was pushing nearly 39.4°C) said it was. The manager had acquired one of those thin blankets and a pillow, while Chan hadn’t given one fuck and just laid down on the gurney with Seungmin. Seeing the young vocalist shiver, the leader hadn’t been able to endure.

Now snug under the blanket and in his leader’s arms, Seungmin was finally sleepy. His ankle pulsed and the nausea was still not gone fully but he was ready to drop off.

🧭🐶

“Wake up, baby”, Minho whispered, his breath tickling Seungmin’s ear. “A doctor is here to look you over.”

Seungmin groaned but forced himself to wake up. The sooner he got examined the sooner he could go home. Chan gently helped him sit up and face the young doctor standing in the room. 

“I’m going to do an IV”, the doctor announced without further ado, not even a greeting or introduction. Maybe Seungmin had just not heard it when asleep. Before Seungmin even had a chance to hold out his arm, the doctor, now sitting on a chair, yanked his arm forward and forced the sleeve of Chan’s jacket Seungmin was still wearing up. It was rude and it hurt, but Seungmin swallowed the tears down. He was an adult after all. He didn’t want to seem like a baby in front of his hyungs, the manager and a stranger.

Without any warning, the doctor tied the tourniquet around Seungmin’s upper arm, pulling it tight. Already Seungmin could feel the skin there getting bruised. But the doctor knew best, right? “Hold still”, the doctor said, tone kind of aggressive.

Seungmin had to swallow harshly. He hadn’t even moved, had he? Why was the doctor so rude?

He prepared himself for the uncomfortable touch and pull of finding a vein. It had always been difficult for doctors to find his veins and Seungmin knew with just how dehydrated he was it would probably be really difficult that day. 

The doctor sprayed the disinfectant on his elbow and then, he just … stabbed. He didn’t feel around, he didn’t didn’t test different places, he didn’t even check if there was a vein there. Surprised Seungmin let out a small yell, an expression of pain and fear. It hurt more than it should and well, the disinfectant burned. 

“Don’t be a wuss”, the doctor said, poking around with the needle that never filled with blood. Seungmin looked up when out of the corner of his eyes he saw Chan get up, an aura of anger surrounding him. But Seungmin shook his head. He didn’t want his leader to make a scene, he could endure. He would be fine.

Then the doctor pulled the needle out, pressing a cotton ball harshly against the blood running out. He rolled his eyes.

“Well, I guess I need to try again”, he said, sounding almost gleeful.

He did try again. Again and again. 

Seungmin just stared up at the ceiling, hoping the doctor would just find a vein. Normally he preferred to watch the doctors do their thing but he felt numb now. Bracing for the pain didn’t help. It hurt nevertheless.

The young vocalist nearly wished he had let Chan intervene. It was all becoming too much. But he didn’t dare seek eye contact with his hyungs now. He had after all just taken Chan’s help for granted, pushed him aside when he just wanted to help. Now he had to endure his pride. 

It was after a few tries, Seungmin supposed it was over five tries in different places at that point, that he made the mistake of looking. The needle was big - bigger than he had anticipated. Seungmin felt sick seeing it. Still, even after so many failed attempts the doctor didn’t care about trying to find a good spot, he just stabbed. It was the right word, really. The force he used was way too much for the delicate process, especially since he now aimed at Seungmin’s wrist.

It was not a conscious decision, anything else but conscious, when Suengmin flinched away harshly. Maybe it was the fever or the exhaustion or the pain but his reaction was slowed. So when he moved his arm away in fear, the needle was already embedded in his arm - tearing the skin open and blood gushing out instantly.

It was at that moment that Seungmin realized he was out of his depth. Blame it on the sickness but he suddenly felt too overwhelmed, sensitive. Tears shot into his eyes as he curled over the injury, weakly gagging. 

“Enough”, Chan yelled but Seungmin was too lost in pain and fear to really understand what was happening. 

🧭🐺

It was hard for Chan seeing one of his kids injured or sick or sad. Nearly having to let go of Minho and Felix before their debut. Losing Woojin. Hyunjin begging Stay to stay with him during the false bullying accusation. Seeing Changbin insecure over his looks and sad as the least biased member. Minho hiding away and pretending to be fine when people said he seemed like a cold and unlikable person. Han’s anxiety diagnosis and his panic attacks. Felix’s back injury. Jeongin beating himself up over mistakes. Seungmin never smiling anymore after haters commented on his braces. It all hurt Chan so much he sometimes wondered how he hadn’t broken down crying yet. 

Now, Seungmin was sick and injured and so clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. To some extent it was even worse seeing normally steadfast and dandy Seungmin be reduced to tears and covered in sick than seeing one of his more fragile members that way. 

Chan really wasn’t a fan of the young doctor. He seemed rude, arrogant and inexperienced. But he hoped the first impression was wrong. 

Sadly, it wasn’t. 

Chan and Minho watched from the sidelines as the doctor first prepared Seungmin’s arm for the IV insertion. The manager had left for a phone call. The pained yelp Seungmin let out when the doctor first pushed the needle in was heartbreaking. Chan never wanted any of the members to make a sound like that ever again. 

Chan very nearly didn’t believe his ears when the doctor told Seungmin to not be a wuss. What kind of doctor treated a patient like that, especially a young man who was in serious pain and ill at the same time? Chan started to feel anger bubbling up in him. How dare the man treat Seungmin like this? Like an unruly child rather than a sick and injured adult? 

He was about to speak up when he caught Seungmin’s eyes. The younger man shook his head slightly, obviously telling Chan to back off. Chan wouldn’t let Seungmin get hurt like this, no matter what the younger man wanted. He clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

But a hand on his arm washed away the red over his gaze. Don’t, Channie. Seungmin wouldn’t want a fuss. Minho looked like he had bitten into a lemon holding back from doing interfering but they both knew Seungmin wouldn't want that. The main dancer and main vocalist were both so alike that Chan trusted Minho to know what Seungmin would prefer.

So Chan clenched his jaw but held back on commenting on the doctor’s attitude. They did want to get Seungmin safe and home without a fuss. An argument over his head was not in the cards if it could be avoided. 

They watched frozen as the man pushed needle after needle into Seungmin, never finding a vein. It seemed almost sadistic. It was clear as day that the doctor couldn’t care less about his patient’s comfort. But they stayed quiet. After everything was over both of them would blame themselves for it.

Then it all went wrong. The doctor tried to find a vein in Seungmin’s wrist, a place that Chan knew was not the safest. But then Seungmin, who had appeared spaced out all during the previous attempts, jerked away. Immediately a spray of blood gushed out and along with it came the tears. Immediately Chan jumped to his feet, Minho following suit. The leader knew his voice took on the authoritative, angry tone that he only used when people - never his members - really fucked up. It was more than deserved in this case. 

“Enough!”

While all his senses screamed at Chan to rush to his crying Stray Kid, he knew it was his leader’s duty to do damage control. Besides, Minho had already rushed to Seungmin, gathering the young vocalist in his arms and chan trusted him to take care of him.

“What?”, the doctor asked, whirling around to come face to face with Chan.

The leader was much smaller than the other man but right now he didn’t care as he said flatly, threateningly: “Leave now. You have hurt Seungmin enough.” 

It was less than what he wanted to say but he also couldn’t just go around yelling at people even if it was his heart’s desire in this case. The real downside to being an idol. 

“Leave”, Chan repeated as the man made no move. He felt oddly calm now, eyes locked with the doctor. He hoped the anger and disgust at the medic’s unprofessionalism came across through his facial expression.  

As the doctor opened his mouth to retort, he was interrupted by the manager coming back inside. “What is going on in here?”

Chan was sure they were a sight. He himself yelling at a doctor much taller than him with Minho comforting a sobbing Seungmin in the background. He could have kissed the manager for his timing and felt his shoulder slump in relief. He didn't like yelling, even if deserved, and only ever did if there was no other choice. Starting now, the manager could deal with the doctor. 

“Please have him removed from the room”, Chan said, his tone leaving no room for arguments, “this man has been very rude to Seungmin, not treating him like needed in this situation, and he obviously not caring to actually do his job in finding a vein. He injured Seungmin without really trying to actually put the IV.”

“That is a lie”, the doctor barked, “you cannot prove anything.”

The manager’s eyes hardened and he gestured at the doctor to leave. “Go before I call security. The fact that you used the word ‘proof’ is proof enough for me.”

The doctor looked like he wanted to defend himself but as Chan shot him another look he decided against it, rushing from the room.

🧭🐶

The worst in Seungmin’s opinion was that they were causing a scene. He was causing a scene.

He heard how Chan was talking to the doctor, his protective leader instincts taking over. Seungmin didn’t like it one bit. While he knew it was for his own good and that Chan’s anger was not directed at him, he was still scared. Raised voices weren’t really his thing. Especially when he already felt so unwell and overwhelmed. 

“Hey, Seungminnie”, Minho whispered and removed the tourniquet from his arm. Then he ran his hand through Seungmin’s bangs to keep them away from his forehead, leaving his cool palm there. It felt heavenly - Seungmin’s whole body seemed to be freezing except for his burning forehead. “It’s gonna be alright, just you see. You know Channie-hyung would move mountains and make the world spin the other direction if you needed him to.” 

Seungmin blushed, ducking his head. It was true, all of what Minho had said. Bang Chan - best leader was an award deserved. It was comforting to be loved so deeply and at times even scary how far Chan would go to make them happy. Seungmin wished they could do the same for their leader one day.

Still he couldn't stop the tears soaking Minho’s shirt. He was trembling all over, only his wrist - that Minho had hastily pushed more of the cotton against to stop the flow of blood and which was now immobilized by the grip his hyung had on it - was held still.

Vaguely he was aware of the doctor leaving and then Chan was kneeling by his side, taking Seungmin’s hands laying limply in his lap into his.

“Hyung is sorry”, Chan whispered, now crying himself, “I should have stopped him before it got this far.”

He gently moved Minho’s hand away to look at the wound but again, immediately blood rushed out. Chan sobbed, resting his head on Seungmin’s lap. “I’m so sorry, Min-ah.”

To say Seungmin was shocked was an understatement. He had not expected Chan to react like this, to basically bow at his feet. 

“Hyungie, hyungie, it’s my fault”, Seungmin whispered through tears, “I thought I could do it. Don’t blame yourself.”

It was then that Minho took action. “Neither one of you is at fault”, he said sternly, in his no-nonsense voice that he usually used on the younger members when they were being a bit too hyper, “neither of you knew that the doctor would do this … whatever it was. A power trip maybe, but neither of you were part of that. We need to talk about this for sure but we will do so later when all of us are not so exhausted and sick.”

Seungmin nodded against Minho’s shoulder, running his hand through Chan’s curls. “It’s okay, hyung.”

When Chan lifted his head his eyes looked haunted but he nodded resolutely.

🧭🐶

“Boys, a new doctor is here”, the manager said and all three of them turned around to see an older woman step into the room, her smile hidden beneath her mask but her eyes kind.

Before any of them could say anything, she stepped forward and bowed deeply. “I’m terribly sorry for what happened, Seungmin-ssi, Bang Chan-ssi. I was not aware that this doctor would be capable of mistreating patients. I heard from his direct colleagues that he apparently isn’t a fan of idol culture and has been rude to idols before, though never to this extent. I hope you can accept the hospital’s apologies.”

“Apologies accepted”, Seungmin mumbled, too tired to care much about pleasantries at the moment. 

Chan nodded reluctantly but then added: “Will there any legal action be taken? His treatment of a patient was unacceptable.”

“He won’t be allowed to treat idols anymore but it will be very hard to prove that he maliciously tried to manipulate the attempts to take blood. I believe you but I can’t promise that the upper management or a court would”, she replied, looking guilty.

“I will talk to our legal department”, the manager promised.

“Can you look over Seungminnie now?”, Minho then asked, “He's really tired and I would like to take him home soon.”

Any other day Seungmin would have hated how his hyung spoke over his head but today it was a welcome relief. He just wanted to be done.

“Of course”, she said, “if Seungmin agrees?”

He appreciated her effort to include him and his opinions, so he tried to smile when he nodded. He was sure that it was just a grimace though.

“Let me wrap your wrist real quick. After that I would like to examine your foot to determine what might be wrong before we do any scans. Your hyungs said you also got the stomach flu and you are running a fever. I know it sounds scary and I really hate to do it but I need to put in an IV line first so we can get you medicated. Is that alright with you?”

Swallowing down the fear, Seungmin nodded and let himself rest against Minho’s chest. Getting his injured wrist wrapped wasn’t that bad and the bleeding stopped soon. Then the bad part came.

“Okay, let me see. I promise I will be gentle. If you need me to stop, just tell me and I will”, the doctor said and Seungmin held out his shaking arm. “Oh, you’re really dehydrated, honey.”

Seungmin watched as she felt his arm up and down, wincing as she accidentally pressed on a few of the spots the other doctor had tried.

“Can I see the other arm?”

But with the other arm she seemed even less happy. The doctor returned to the original arm, wincing when she saw a bruise of the failed attempt earlier form, and made Seungmin open and close his fist. The tourniquet she placed on his upper arm burned but not as much as it did earlier. The disinfectant spray was icy cold.

“I don’t feel comfortable doing a line in your elbow since it’s so bruised. I want to try the back of your hand, okay?”

Seungmin nodded numbly, pressing his back closer to Minho. Still, he couldn’t look away. Seeing was better than not seeing. 

The doctor gently slapped his hand, trying to cause more blood flow, feeling around again. “I’m not really happy here but I want try anyway. You’re making finding a vein really hard in your state.”

If Seungmin wasn’t raised as a nice person he would have rudely told her it wasn’t his fault that he was dehydrated and that the IV couldn’t be placed in the most convenient, easiest place. But even in his tired state he knew she only meant to make conversation. So he nodded his consent, feeling Chan take his other hand in support.

“Small pinch”, the doctor said and Seungmin had a millisecond to brace himself before … before he violently jerked his hand away. It was a subconscious move and he was lucky she hadn’t touched his skin yet. The doctor jumped in surprise and Seungmin was quick to apologize: “I’m sorry … I …” 

He stumbled horribly over his words. He didn’t even really know what to say. It was scary, getting a needle under his skin. It hurt. He didn’t want to feel the pain again.

“It’s quite alright”, the doctor replied. “Just tell me when you’re ready to try again.”

“Breathe, Min-ah”, Chan said, gently pressing his hand, “we’re right here with you.”

After a few deep breaths, guided by his hyungs, Seungmin felt ready again. Well, not ready to start but ready to be done with the ordeal.

But it wasn’t to be so. Even as Seungmin didn’t flinch away and the doctor moving the needle around under his skin, she couldn’t put in the line. They couldn’t quite blame her - she was obviously trying and very apologetic. Plus, they all knew drawing blood from Seungmin was hard on a normal day.

“I really don’t like doing this but I think our last chance is putting the line in your wrist”, the doctor finally said, “otherwise we will have to try your foot and that is a really uncomfortable place for an IV, especially since then both your feet would be compromised.”

Seungmin just sighed and turned his body so his head rested against Minho’s shoulder. While he normally wanted to see, right now he was overwhelmed with all the sensory input. He hated the thought of having a needle in his wrist but the foot was even less desirable.

“Just do it”, he whispered.

To their collective surprise, the doctor slid in the needle easily and then she exclaimed: “I got it. It’s in, Seungmin-ssi. You did so well.”

Reluctantly Seungmin peeked out from his hiding place and immediately regretted it. The sight of the needle embedded in his wrist, so close to arteries and bones was nauseating. As he was already sick and nauseous, it was too much.

“I feel sick”, he whispered. The doctor reached over to a shelf but it wasn’t fast enough. 

Seungmin couldn’t even muster the energy to try to stop the wave of nausea crashing over him. He just opened his mouth and let the gags tear through his throat. Bile and spit dangled from his lips, gently wiped away by Chan holding a tissue. Maybe he finally was empty. Nothing would come up.

“You’re scheduled for an MRI soon”, the doctor explained, still holding the emesis basin she had taken out of the shelf, “I’m going to give you an antiemetic, fluids and painkillers through the line. You should feel better soon. Please try to drink a bit if you can.”

With those words she left the room.

🧭🐶

The wait for the MRI was thankfully short and the medicine was starting to work quickly. The worst thing was Chan forcing Seungmin to take a few sips of water.

Soon Seungmin was lifted into a wheelchair and moved into the MRI room. His jewelry was taken off and soon enough Seungmin was flying flat on the movable platform. The technician pressed a bell into his hand and told him to press it in case of emergency. Then he was inside the machine, eyes pressed shut. He was drifting, not really taking anything in.

The MRI was loud, metal clanking everywhere. It didn’t matter - Seungmin was so tired he basically fell asleep the moment his eyes were closed. 

He was awoken by a voice talking to him. Was he done? He hoped so. But then the words registered in his mind. “I will push the contrast agent in now. You might feel a bit warm but let me know if anything becomes unbearable.”

Seungmin nodded and then he felt what the woman had said. It was like he suddenly was burning from the inside, everything too hot. But he did not expect the disgusting taste in his mouth. He didn’t know how or what had happened, if that was supposed to happen, but the nausea that the antiemetic had valiantly fought against, rose again at the taste.

“Take me out, I need out”, Seungmin pleaded. “I can’t - it’s too hot. I …”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. His chest spasmed and vomit spilled from his lips. Seungmin doubted it was much more than the water he had drunk but it was terrifying laying on his back. Without warning he was turned to the side and the vomit spilled down his cheek. It was disgusting but much better than choking on it.

“Okay, okay, you’re okay”, the technician said. But as Seungmin opened his eyes he saw his leader kneeling by his side. 

“Channie-hyung”, he whispered. 

Chan smiled and wiped Seungmin’s face. “I got you, baby.”

🧭🐺

Chan looked down at the sleeping vocalist on his lap. Seungmin had fallen asleep after throwing up during the MRI. Apparently some patients could taste the contrast agent and it had triggered Seungmin’s sensitive stomach. Chwas was just glad that Seungmin was now asleep, the vocalist had been stretched far beyond his limits of the day.

The doctor had determined that it was indeed a broken ankle and now Seungmin’s foot was in a cast, resting on Minho’s lap. They finally were on their way home with prescriptions for nausea medication, fever reducers and painkillers, as well as a pair of crutches. 

But for now Seungmin was asleep and that was what he needed most. 

“Don’t worry, Chan”, Minho whispered to not disturb their dongsaeng, “he will be fine, just you wait. Soon enough he will chase us through the dorm on crutches and be an absolutely terrible delight.”

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - Stray Kids

[coichii]

101 DEGREES FARENHEIT - LEE KNOW

pairing - bf!minho ♥︎ fem!uni student!reader

genre: sickfic, angst, and comfort

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, unhealthy habits, self deprecating behavior & thoughts.

A/N : i made this while tiptoeing on the edge of sickness and feeling well..😭 also originally was not going to be his birthday fic but uhm.. i lost motivation….

You grab a sip of your water for what feels like the 1000th time tonight.

Somehow, throughout the day, you had picked up a cold. You knew there was some strain of flu spreading throughout your school, but man this one spread quicker than ever.

There’s no time for that though, especially not with midterms coming up right around the corner. So with heavy eyes and a sore throat that you swear is getting worse within a matter of seconds, you continue studying.

You didn’t live on campus. In fact, you lived in a small apartment with your boyfriend, Minho. It was close enough to both your university and his company, so it worked out perfectly. Not having to deal with pesky, disgusting roommates and getting to live with the love of your life instead was the dream.

The sound of keys ringing and the door cracking open was enough to pull you out of your thoughts. Your lover had just came home.

You smile gently as you hear his quiet footsteps grow ever closer to the door, heart bubbling with same excitement as it had when you first moved in. The feeling never went away, not even a little bit.

“Hi baby.” He says, walking in to your shared bedroom and sitting down on the bed behind you. “Still working this late?”

“Well yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” You reply. You wonder if your voice gave your illness away, because you can see his eye brows furrowing as you speak. “Are you sick y/n?”

“I just came down with it. My throat hurts, that’s all. I may not even be sick.” You try not to worry him, lying as you speak. If you’re being honest, your throat hurts like a bitch. But you know him well enough to know that if he knows how bad your feeling, he’ll focus all his energy on making you feel 110% and push off practically everything else.

He hums in response, eyes still searching yours before he’s moving to stand up. “Let me make you some tea then hmm? that should make you feel better.”

“Are you sure? It’s still super later Minho.” You respond, but you know it’s a loosing battle. He could be stubborn when he needed to be, and he is when it comes to you and your health.

“It’s fine. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of you. Do you want chamomile?” He asked, not taking no for an answer. You smile as you feel yourself giving in, eyes feeling even more agonizingly heavy.

“Please” you groan out, and he’s leaving to the kitchen. You feel grateful for him as the day and pain catches up to you, finally deciding to close your textbooks and change for the night. Thankfully, you had already showered and brushed your teeth, so there was no worrying about that.

You grab the book you had been reading from your nightstand as you tuck your self into bed, silently waiting for the tea your boyfriend had prepared.

Even though you put up a slight fight about it, you can’t help but enjoy when he treats you like this. You love when he takes care of you, it makes you feel special and loved. It fills you with a special kind of warmth that can’t be described in words. Just pure love.

Just as the pain in your throat felt as if it was getting impossibly worse, your boyfriend came in with a steaming cup of hot chamomile tea, placing it down on the coaster next to you. “It’s really hot so be careful okay? I’m going to go shower now.” He dotes on you, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Ok, thank you so much baby. I’ll probably be sleep by the time you’re done.” And he hums in response, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

The tea does a good job with soothing your throat, the sweet, honey taste dripping down your throat perfectly remedying the itchy, scratchy feeling.

You decide to finally get some shut eye as midnight comes around quicker than you thought, placing your book back on the nightstand and trying to get comfortable.

Key word : Trying

It’s hard, especially with the small cough that creeped its way into your throat all of a sudden. It’s keeping you up, the hacking noise disrupting the peace your body needed to finally fall asleep.

It takes longer than you wish it did, but eventually the tea is able to coax your body into sleep, eyes finally getting the rest they desperately needed.

Moments later, Minho joins you in the bedroom, clad in nothing but breezy pajama pants. Getting into bed with you and snuggling close, he knows you’re asleep, but he can’t help but begin to pepper small kisses upon face and hold you tighter.

“Get better, my love.” He drifts off, falling into sleep alongside you.

And you wish you could say you did.

You woke up smoldering hot but shivering at the same time. You look at your clock, groaning as the bright light amplified the small headache that had spread through your entire face. 10 am. You’re usually up by seven.

You silently say a quick “thank you prayer” that you don’t have classes on Wednesdays. Taking a day off of school during exam season is a whole death wish. But with how things are progressing, you’re not sure if you can even go tomorrow without getting 9-1-1 called.

You open your phone, groaning again as the light messes with your headache, but reading who the message is from still causes a weak smile to take form on your face.

—

new message from “linoo❤️🐰”

linoo❤️🐰: Good morning y/n.

linoo❤️🐰: Are you feeling better?

linoo❤️🐰 : I know you don’t have classes today, so you should take it easy.

linoo❤️🐰 : If you want to call or need me to come over, tell me. You know I won’t mind.

you : hey, I just woke up❤️ im fine though.

he texts back within less than a minute

linoo❤️🐰 : your symptoms are gone?

you : well no… they’re worse. but I’m fine !! i promise

linoo❤️🐰 : you’ll call me if it gets worse right?

you : yes :) I promise

linoo❤️🐰 : okay, have a good day. I love you

you : I love you 2 !!

—

You sigh as you place your phone down, mentally deciding to go take a shower. Surely that’ll fix the headache right?

Your head spins as you get out of bed, the world looking blurry and dizzy with specs of gray. It’s hard to walk.

“How the actual fuck did it get this bad so quickly?” You mumble to yourself, stumbling towards the bathroom and turning on the water.

The steam helps a little bit with the tension in your head and the congestion of your nose, but it’s not doing much. Atleast not as much as you need. Your throat was still burning for some relief, and the dizziness hasn’t stopped either. You’re thinking if it gets any worse, you’re probably going to have to go to the hospital.

The shower itself helps a little bit more with alleviating the pain, the warm water cascading down your skin and warming it up inside. But you can still feel it.

You can still feel the pounding of the headache you swear is forming into a migraine practically tearing your head apart, your throat is still screaming you for something warm, and to make matters worse, you think you’re developing nausea too.

Yup, definitely the flu

The flu never stopped anyone though, and midterms are still right around the corner. So with a dry cough and constant sneeze, you were popping advil, and taking a seat at your desk.

“A little sickness can’t me from doing this” you thought to yourself, but it was much harder than you thought.

Suddenly the sun had already set. The moonlight creeps its way inside through the slits in the blinds, but you hadn’t seemed to notice. You didn’t notice the way your eyes were blurred with unshed tears either. Your mind was absolutely buried in the thought of midterms.

I’m not prepared. Im going to fail. I’m a disappointment. I’m so useless, one fucking cough and I end up like this? I don’t even know why I try anym-

“Y/n!” Minho’s voice cuts through the mess swirling through your brain. You look over to where the voice came from and you swear you can see his face crumble the moment he looks at you.

To be fair, you hadn’t looked in the mirror since you took your shower in the morning, but Minho saw something different. He saw disheveled hair, droopy and tired eyes, beads of sweat drooping down your shivering body, and most importantly, tears.

“You told me you would call me if it got worse.” He bitterly spoke, and you felt that cut right through your heart. “I-It didn’t. I’m fine min-“ but he’s cutting you off immediately.

“You’re not fine y/n. You’re literally crying!” He booms, and you can’t help but feel extremely guilty. “Have you ate today? Or at least took medicine?!”

“Uhm, once at like n-nine. Look min I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for not calling you when I was supposed to. B-but my studying. If I stop, I’m not going to make it. I can’t fail min.”

His expression softens at your admission, eyebrows de-furrowing and eyes being replaced by compassion instead of anger and hurt as he walks closer towards you.

“Baby, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. I get it, I love that you want to study. But baby, is it really worth your life?”

Crack

“I know it means a lot, but so do you and your mental health. You can’t push yourself this hard and expect good results. You need to rest.”

Crack

“I love you so much. I can’t stand seeing you like this. Please let me take care of you okay? That’s all I want to do for you love.”

Shatter

You’re sobbing all of a sudden, burrowing your head in his sweatshirt as tears pour as of your eyes like faucets. It’s making your head hurt more, but you didn’t care. You just needed him.

He let you stay there for a while, he knew you needed it. He shushed the small sorries coming out of your mouth, telling you that you didn’t need to apologize. He only pulled you away when you calmed down completely.

“I’m going to get the thermometer. Stay here, my baby.” and he’s off to grab the thermometer you kept on hand from one of the cabinets in the bathroom, coming back with a concerned look on his face.

He quickly rubbed the thermometer along your forehead, reading out your temperature with a sharp ‘beep!’

“101 degrees.” He sighed. “Baby, if this gets any worse, you’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

Your breath hitches and tears spring to your eyes again, which Minho notices immediately.

“Hey, look at me.” He says, using his pointer finger to make you face him. “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you feel better okay?”

You nod along, resting your body back into his comforting arms as he massages your tense shoulders. He’s whispering small praises as he does this, and you swear you can feel your headache dissipating slowly.

While even though it’s going to be a while before you’re completely better, or even a little bit, you knew with him, it would all be okay.

As long as you have him taking care of you, comforting you, and loving you, you know you’ll be okay.

back to masterlist

[nalgenewhore]

stubborn love

elide x lorcan, modern au/coworkers + semi-established + sickfic <3 word count: 4070

She managed to contain herself until Darrow left her office, but the minute the glass door swung silently shut behind him, Elide slumped down on her desk. The cool wood offered a small relief against her heated cheek.

Her peace shattered less than a minute later when someone re-entered her office. Elide forced herself to sit up. The quick change in positions made her dizzy, and she blinked hard a few times. Finally, her gaze focussed on Aelin, who was looking at her like something was very, very wrong. 

Elide suppressed a feverish chill. “Is something wrong?”

“Um, yeah,” her coworker exclaimed, rounding the table with outrage twisting her face. Aelin reached forward and pushed her hand against Elide’s hot face. “Fuck, El, you’re burning up. How did you even make it out of your apartment?”

Flapping her hand dismissively, Elide said, “It’s only a cold.”

Aelin gave her a look, “It was a cold last week, but you couldn’t take it easy and insisted on being in court for eight hours a day three days in a row.”

Before she can say something in her defence, Elide’s poor body was wracked with a coughing fit. It rattled the mucus in her lungs, and she didn’t protest when Aelin passed her a box of tissues to wipe her mouth. “I’m fine,” Elide wheezed. “Just tired.”

“Elide—”

“I’m really, really ok,” she insisted. She braced her hands against her desk to rise to her feet. “And I have to be in court in an hour.” For the past month, she’d been busting her ass over this case, and she’d be damned if she didn’t show up all because she had a sniffle.

Aelin guffawed, “You can’t possibly think you can go to court right now.”

Elide arched her brow as if to say Well? She shouldered her leather briefcase. At least today was only the arraignment, so Elide didn’t have to lug an attché of heavy, heavy files to the courthouse. “It’s my job.”

“Let your boyfriend do it,” her friend held a hand up to Elide’s guffaw. “And you look like you’re on death’s door.”

Her cheeks flushed at the mention of Lorcan. Elide looked at the floor, mumbling, “He’s not my boyfriend.” They had only been seeing each other for about a month. Even if Elide could admit to wanting to call him her boyfriend, she didn’t know that he’d like it. She hauled against her office door, then stood still as Aelin walked out. “If it means that much to you,” Elide said, trying to hide how shallow her breaths were, “I’ll take the day off after the arraignment.”

Before Aelin could argue against that, a deep voice interrupted them. “Hey. You ready to go?” Lorcan stopped just outside her office, looking at something on his phone.

Elide pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate the pressure from the sinus build-up. “Yeah, just a minute.”

Lorcan frowned as soon as she faced him. “What the fuck happened to you,” he asked bluntly. He never was one for meaningless pleasantries, unless it was only them. Elide preferred thinking that what he said then wasn’t meaningless, though.

“It’s called a cold,” Elide informed him.

He pocketed his phone, running a critical eye over her. In a low tone, he asked her again, “Lee, are you sure?” He looked up at Aelin, who shook her head, before looking back at Elide. “You don’t look so good.”

Elide felt far too exhausted to argue anymore, but she dipped her chin once, “I’m sure.”

✵✵✵✵✵

In the underground parking garage, Elide hadn’t put up any fight when Lorcan insisted that he was driving them. 

They were stuck in a classic downtown Orynth gridlock. She slumped to the side, the window cold against her cheek.

“Lochan,” he said, obviously conflicted. “Please just let someone take you home.” He reached over and laid a heavy hand on her thigh. “I’ll take care of the arraignment.”

Elide hacked once, her stomach aching. “What,” she wheezed as she attempted an easy smile, “you still haven’t learned to share, hmm?” Her breath caught in her tender lungs.

“Elide.”

She gripped his hand, squeezing once, “You can take me home after.” He seemed mollified by that, at least enough to let Elide rest in silence. She never let go of his hand either.

Her eyes had only been shut for a minute, she swore, before someone was gently shaking her shoulder. 

Elide gasped, her lungs too feeble to let her get a full breath. She pressed her hand to her chest like it would make her lungs work.

A warm hand rubbed her back, accompanied by a deep voice. “Slow down. Just take slow breaths.” Elide did as Lorcan encouraged her to, and in a couple moments, her lungs had cleared enough. She collapsed against him to recover, breathing as deeply as she could. “We’re here.”

“Mmm, here, where?” she murmured, too comforted by his touch.

He chuckled a bit, “The courthouse.”

“Oh,” she hummed. Then it hit her, and Elide jolted, “Oh, shit!” She shoved the passenger door open, swinging her legs around. 

Palms flat against the hood of the car, Elide was wracked with feverish chills and glared half-heartedly at him. “Why did you let me fall asleep?” 

“‘lide, it’s ok,” Lorcan told her. “It was only a couple minutes.” He didn’t even let her look at her briefcase and shouldered it himself. 

Elide was sick enough that she let him do it without a fight.

They made their way slowly to the courtroom and met their client outside. Up until today, it had been mainly Elide conversing with the young woman. For all his prowess as an attorney, Lorcan had piss-poor social skills on a good day. However, Elide had to spend all her energy on not passing out and not erupting into another coughing fit, so she let Kaltain suffer through a few awkward minutes with Lorcan.

Luckily, they were summoned quickly. Elide sighed as the air conditioning hit her face. She got to sit, but only for a few minutes before the bailiff announced the judge. 

The courtroom spun as she rose to her feet. Elide swayed, catching herself on the edge of the table. She breathed hard, blinking to centre her vision. Her periphery started to darken. “Lor…” she spoke up weakly, her shaky fingers twisting into the hem of his suit jacket. “I don’t feel- I’m…”

The next thing Elide knew, she was seated outside the courtroom, head between her hands. Her tailor-made blazer laid on the bench next to her because she was burning up. 

Lorcan sat beside her, his body angled towards her. He rubbed her spine up and down, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“We have work,” Elide protested. 

He was pissed, that was evident enough. “I don’t fucking care. You passed out.” He steered her down to his car, tucked her in the passenger side, and did her seatbelt up for her. Lorcan made sure she was alright before he took his seat behind the wheel.

Elide couldn’t let her duty go, not yet. She gestured behind them as he drove out of the parkade, “We- what about Kaltain?”

“The judge excused us till a later date.”

“Oh.” Elide shrunk a bit in her seat, cheeks burning for a reason besides her fever. What he’d told her earlier finally registered in her scattered mind. “I fainted?”

Lorcan reached for her hand, slipping his fingers through hers. He lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles and made Elide smile faintly.

✵✵✵✵✵

In the waiting room, Elide attempted to fill out the form herself, but Lorcan took one look at her shaking hand and said, “C’mere, give me that.” He sat in the uncomfortable chair next to her and let her slump against him. “Alright…” Lorcan perused the form, filling it out with no fuss. 

Elide watched him through slitted eyes. If she wasn’t so sick, she would mention something about his lack of hesitation. At points where Elide was sure he’d pause, ask her for a tidbit of personal information, Lorcan penned in the answer with his neat, concise script.

He wrapped his arm around her after handing the form at the ER desk. Idly, Lorcan kissed the top of her head. “They’ll see us soon, sweetheart.” She hummed, barely conscious against him. 

Lorcan was right, and they were shown into an exam room quickly.

Elide laid on the padded table in a thin hospital gown after the exam. She felt delirious as she scrolled on her phone, not listening to the doctor after it was determined she had bronchitis. Her temperature clocked in at thirty-nine degrees, her blood pressure was worryingly low, and her heart rate was sky-high. In spite of it all, Elide could not care less.

The doctor directed her spiel to Lorcan, giving him explicit instructions Elide was sure he’d follow strictly. He was given a slip of paper with her prescriptions on it. 

After a little while, the doctor left, and Elide griped as she had to redress in her corporate attire. Lorcan sympathised a bit, giving her a kiss on the forehead. She blinked blearily up at him, so damned tired and cold. He ran his fingers through her wavy hair. “I’m going to drop you off, then go get your medicine, alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Elide rasped, her lungs rattling. “You don’t need to stay with me. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

Lorcan gave her a look of shock. “You’re not bothering me. Why would you think that?” Without waiting for any answer, he continued on, “I told Darrow, and you’re not allowed to even look at a file until you’ve been cleared by the doctors.”

She made a face, turning her head into his chest. Never before had she been this clingy with him, but she’d wanted to be. It wasn’t like Lorcan never offered her unsexual comfort either. “I don’t wanna go to my apartment,” Elide muttered.

He rubbed the back of her neck, soothing her, “You wanna go to mine instead?”

She nodded. She wanted to be surrounded by his comfort, his presence, not return to the pit that was her apartment. 

This time, Lorcan was more patient as he took her back to the car. He didn’t go as far as carrying her, but Elide could tell he wanted to. It didn’t take them long at all to get to his place. 

All of her energy had already been spent, and Elide barely had it in her to walk from the elevator to his door, much less get changed. Lorcan was gentle with her as he exchanged her sweat-damp clothes for a loose t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

She climbed into his bed, sighing at the feel of indulgently soft sheets and thick, yet fluffy pillows. Before she could stop him, Lorcan walked out. Elide croaked, too tired to call out. 

He returned after a minute with a thermometre. “Let me take your temp, and then you can sleep, sweetheart.”

Elide rolled her eyes, but she let him stick it beneath her tongue. It beeped after a minute or so, and Lorcan let her recline again. His mouth tightened, “Mmm, still too high.” He brushed her hair back. She hummed, leaning into his touch. “I’ll go get your meds now. What d’you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.”

“You have to eat something,” he told her, still brushing his hand over her hair. “I’ll go by the deli if you want, get you some soup.” At that, Elide’s eyebrows rose high, and she looked thoughtful. Lorcan bit back a grin. He leaned down to kiss her temple. “Anything else?”

She smiled, “Coffee ice cream.”

“As you wish.”

✵✵✵✵✵

At the pharmacy, Lorcan was somewhat worried that there would be an issue with him picking up Elide’s meds. Yet, everything went smoothly. He went to the deli and to the convenience store for her ice cream. 

When he got home, Elide was still sleeping.

Lorcan let her be for a little while more as he got changed. He put the kettle on to brew some white willow bark tea as well as some honey-lemon. The pharmacist had given him an antibiotic, steroids, an inhaler, and some cough syrup with codeine. Elide wouldn’t like being woken up, but Lorcan had designated himself the role of her nurse, and he’d be damned if she didn’t get better. He knew her infection could turn into pneumonia quickly.

He padded into his bedroom with her collection of meds. Lorcan leaned over her, “‘lide, wake up.”

Elide groaned into his pillow in a very clear ‘fuck off’ gesture. 

Lorcan rubbed her back, coaxing her to roll over. He grinned at her peevish expression, “Hi, baby.”

Again, she groaned and tried to roll back over. 

“Uh-uh, c’mere,” he said, gently stopping her. Lorcan eased her up and wrapped his arm around her. “C’mon, lean on me.” 

As soon as she was seated, another coughing fit stunned her. Elide let a few tears escape, utterly drained. Her joints were throbbing, her head swimming. It hurt to stop coughing, but it hurt more to keep going. 

Lorcan gave her the inhaler first, and she panted around the taste of albuterol in her mouth. It helped her breathe a little more easily, though. “Here,” he picked up the bottle of cough syrup, cracking the lid. He poured out a tablespoon.

Elide sniffed at it distrustingly, then shook her head. “Smells gross.”

“Yeah, but you got that good shit with codeine.”

She rose a brow, looking at him with a small smile. Lorcan chuckled, then Elide dutifully downed the sickly sweet syrup. The synthetic cherry taste made her stick out her tongue in disgust, shuddering, “Nasty.”

“It’ll help,” he told her. 

And he was right. Elide barely made it through her soup, a round of her antibiotics and steroids, and a bite of ice cream before she fell asleep against Lorcan.

✵✵✵✵✵

The next couple days passed in a haze for Elide. Her fever persisted, making her brain fuzzy and unable to properly register what was happening outside of the periphery of her consciousness. Lorcan had relented after thirty-six hours, letting her move from his bed to his living room couch. He’d taken the week off of work to dote on her.

At first, she’d protested that, but he quickly shut that down. Elide decided if he insisted on fussing, then she would take full advantage of it.

Currently, she was curled in the corner of the couch. She sat supported by the armrest because she could breathe better upright. 

Elide coughed into her clenched fist, wheezing. The Twilight Saga: Eclipse played on the TV. She knew it was only because she was miserably ill that Lorcan hadn’t complained when she declared they were to have a Twilight marathon.

Lorcan came over from the kitchen with a new cup of tea. “How you feeling?”

“Horrible,” she said. She shuffled over to make room for him. After he sat, Elide crawled into his lap. She rested her face against his neck, her breathing congested. “This sucks.”

“I know,” he told her. Lorcan helped her sip some of her tea. “You should have a bath or shower after the movie’s done. Steam all that crap out of your head.”

Elide grinned lewdly, her head lolling back against his shoulder. “Someone’s eager to get me naked and wet, eh?” Her laughter was a wet, phlegmy rasp. 

Lorcan arched a brow at her, clearly unimpressed by her brush with comedy. She chuckled to herself as she drank the rest of her tea, and he just played with her hair.

Ten minutes later, Elide nestled closer to Lorcan. Sudden chills had come over her, making her shiver. “You cold?” He bent his head to look at her. 

She nodded.

“Alright.” He shifted her in his arms, then got up with her cradled against his chest. Lorcan carried her to his luxurious bathroom. It had a tub big enough to hold both of them reclined with room to spare, complete with jets and heated tiles.

As he prepared to draw her a bath, Lorcan set Elide down. He got her a fresh towel and hung it on the heated towel rack. Elide watched him with slitted eyes. Over the past few days, he’d done everything in his power to make sure she wanted for nothing. She could hardly move without Lorcan bringing her more tea or her favourite foods. When he brought her her medicine, he gently coaxed her to take it.

Elide didn’t know how to take it. On one hand, she liked this kind of treatment, but on the other, she had no idea what it meant. It could’ve just been because she was sick, so she didn’t want to ask about it.

Lorcan turned away from her as she got undressed, even though he was very well acquainted with her bare body. Elide thought his attempted chivalry was too funny, but she kept her thoughts to herself. He didn’t turn back until she was submerged in the steaming water up to her head. 

He brought her a glass of water so she wouldn’t overheat. He took her temperature again. 

“Better?” Elide croaked. “I feel better than yesterday.” She hadn’t moved all day, trapped in feverish hallucinations between Lorcan waking her up just long enough to take her medicine. 

“Mmm, yeah. Down to thirty-eight.” He smiled briefly. “We’ll break this fever soon.”

Elide lifted her hand, catching his. She smiled at him, “Good.”

After her bath, she felt drowsy, so he carried her back to bed. She took her meds, then reclined against a strategically constructed mound of pillows. Lorcan joined her, winding his warm body around her to ward off any chills. 

✵✵✵✵✵

Her fever stayed down overnight, although Elide woke up feeling like her lungs had been scrubbed with sandpaper. She was alone in bed, Lorcan elsewhere in the apartment. Elide’s entire body ached like she’d just run a marathon.

“Lorcan,” she croaked. “Lor…”

She could hear his footsteps jogging across the apartment before he appeared in the doorway. “Hey, you’re awake.” Lorcan came over to her side with a steaming mug. He helped Elide sit up before handing her the cup of elderberry and lemon tea. As she took a sip, Elide coughed with a whimper. He kissed her temple as he felt the back of her neck. “Temp feels good.”

“It hurts,” Elide mumbled.

“Hurts? Where, baby?” 

With a screwed-up expression, Elide gestured annoyedly at her body. “Everywhere.” 

He hummed, “I’ll get you some Tylenol.” Lorcan moved to get up, but she tightened her hold on his hoodie.

“I don’t want any,” she said. “Can you stay with me? What’re you even doing out there?”

Lorcan winced like he was reluctant to tell her. “I was, uh, just checking on some,” he averted his eyes, “cases.”

Elide’s eyes went wide, and she attempted to surge to her feet. “You’re working? Let me see.” Without much effort, Lorcan stopped her. He eased her back down, ignoring Elide’s complaints. “Lor, please, I just want to look.”

“You barely have enough energy to get through a movie, no way are you doing legal consulting,” Lorcan grumbled. He pinned her in place with a glare.

She wrapped her hands around his arm, leaning in to entice him. “Why don’t you work in here? I’ll behave.”

Lorcan snorted because he didn’t believe for a second that Elide could help herself. “Uh-huh.” She made her eyes wide, not above pouting a bit. He narrowed his gaze at her but cracked after five silent, tense seconds. “Fine. I’ll work in here, if you promise that you won’t even ask to look at anything.”

“I promise,” Elide beamed. She reclined against the headboard with her cup of tea.

Lorcan got up to bring his work into the bedroom. 

For the first while, Elide held up her end of the deal. She sipped her tea and laid next to him, not even stealing a peek at anything. The day before, Lorcan had gone to her apartment to get some of her things, including her laptop. She was watching Ted Lasso while Lorcan worked.

Once she finished her tea, though, Elide grew antsy. First, she closed her laptop and pushed it away. She wound her arms around one of his, resting her cheek against his bicep. “Whatcha doing?” she whispered.

“Working,” he answered flatly. He angled the paper away so she couldn’t see it. “Nothing you’d be interested in.” It was a laughable statement. When it came to jurisprudence, Elide was interested in it all.

Her eyes travelled up his profile. She regarded his glasses, resting on the straight, proud bridge of his nose. Elide smiled against his arm, “You look good in those glasses.”

“Mm.”

Elide hooked her thigh over his hip, ignoring how aching her joints were. She moved closer and figured she could use her feminine wiles to get her way. 

“It’s not going to work.”

She fell back with a whine, coughing once. “Come on! I’m literally asking for it, please?”

Lorcan just shook his head. “Nope.”

Elide stared balefully at the man beside her. He either didn’t notice her glare or was ignoring her, though she suspected it was the latter. He flipped through a thick bundle of paper. Every now and then he’d pause to mark something, or make a note on his legal pad.

She clicked her tongue, half-heartedly kicking his shin. “You’re being mean.”

“You promised you wouldn’t ask me about work,” he replied evenly. “And I don’t fuck sick people.”

Feeling miffed, Elide declared, “It’s funny how you care so much now when four days ago, you were perfectly happy fucking me in this bed.” 

Lorcan shut his eyes with a sigh. He opened them again, looking at her with unending patience. “Baby, four days ago, we did not fuck. I gave you head for, like, five minutes before you passed out for ten hours.”

The way that Lorcan measured her wellness against the length of time that he’d eaten her out had her smirking. She vaguely remembered that night, yet had assumed her foggy memory was due to further activities. Not until now had she linked that gap in her recollection to her illness.

Elide cocked her head to the side, “You stayed with me the whole night?”

“Of course I did,” he frowned. He put his work aside, turning over. Lorcan cupped her jaw and flicked his eyes over her face. “I woke you up and all you said was ‘too tired’ before you were out again.” He wrapped his arms around her, completely abandoning his work to hold her. “I didn’t sleep at all.”

A happy grin curled over her lips. “You were that worried about lil’ old me?”

Lorcan chuckled, idly rubbing her back up and down. “I’d like to think I’m the kind of man who cares about his girlfriend when she’s sick.”

Elide blinked once before her smile softened. She sunk deeper into his side, asking, “Girlfriend, huh?”

His hand paused. He looked down at her. “Well, yeah. We said we weren’t seeing other people, that we didn’t want to; it follows that that would make you my girlfriend.”

Sometimes, most of the time, her favourite thing about Lorcan was his brevity. She hummed a bit, nodding to herself. “What fine reasoning skills you have, Salvaterre.” Tracing a fingertip of his shirt collar, Elide said, “So, I suppose that would make you my boyfriend, then.”

“That conclusion is both sound and valid,” Lorcan answered, his voice lower. He dipped his head to kiss the underside of her jaw. “Love it when you talk logic to me, baby.”

Her laugh vibrated against his lips, and the rasping note reminded him of how ill Elide was. Reluctantly, Lorcan pulled himself up. Their faces were close, almost close enough to share a breath. He so desperately wanted to kiss her.

She could see in his eyes what he wanted. With more restraint than she thought she had, Elide turned her head away. “I’ll get you sick.”

“I can live with that.”

Elide rolled her eyes. She looked at him shrewdly, swayed by the curve of his plush lips. Before her reasoning could win out, Elide gave him a swift peck. “That’s all you get.”

“Tch, cruel thing.”

✵✵✵✵✵

an: @empress-ofbloodshed ok ok its not the one i told u abt but shes coming i swear (also jules i WILL work on that sneaky little mb outtake ok 🥺🤞)

tag list: @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @celestialams @the-regal-warrior @shyvioletcat @icecream52 @elentiyawhitethorn @goddess-aelin (lmk if u want to b added/removed)

[roxygen22]

Sickfic/Hurt/Comfort Any Timothee character of your choice :)

On Edge

Summary: Lee saves eater!reader from themselves.

C/W: Suicidal ideation

One last sunset. That was your last wish. You had spent all day driving to a spot you knew had a great western view. At last, you stood on the precipice of the tallest point in the state just in time to watch the sun sink below the horizon. A slight breeze swept your hair behind you and cooled the tears on your cheeks. The air was fragrant from the wildflowers that bloomed below.

You heard a twig snap behind you. You startled and jolted, knocking rocks off the cliff's edge as you turned toward the noise. The amount of time it took to hear them hit the bottom made your resolve waiver slightly. In the dimming light, you saw a lanky figure with curly red hair emerging from the woods.

"Whoa there. I'm not going to hurt you," a tenor voice called out. He walked slowly toward you, with a slight crouch to his step and a hand held out, like he was trying to calm a scared feral kitten. "What brings you to the edge of the Earth?"

"A fitting end for reaching my limits, is it not?"

A brief flash of sadness (and was that...recognition?) flitted across his face. "My name is Lee. What's yours?"

"[Y/N]."

"Well, [Y/N], if you jump, I jump," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's insane. You would die, too!" you exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well, I can't turn away now. I'm involved," he said flatly as he set down his pack. "But maybe you can fill me in on why we have to die today?"

You looked over your shoulder back at the sunset. "I- I just can't do it anymore. My family wants nothing to do with me. I k-keep screwing things up, so I can't stay in one place long enough to make new friends. I'm...too different."

"I know. So am I." Lee gestured to himself. "This may sound weird," he paused, "but I could smell you from miles away."

"Smell me?" you asked incredulously.

Lee nodded. "Food just doesn't cut it for you, does it? You feel a deep ache down to your core until you...feed?"

You paled. Conversations about your eating habits usually required you to flee. You stepped back reflexively and lost your footing.

"[Y/N]!" Lee screamed and lunged forward to grab your hand as you slid off the edge. You cried and screamed, clawing at the rocks with your free hand until you were able to grab his arm. He pulled you back to safety and clutched you to his chest.

You shook like a leaf in his embrace. "I- I thought I was the only one." You felt him shake his head as he rested his cheek on your hair.

"You are not alone." You heard his voice catch as if he were crying. "Let me prove it to you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, if you'll let me."

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Masterlist

A/N: slight inspiration taken from the jumping scene of Titanic