#!emeto

“Agh,” he complains to himself. “Feet, come on.”

Is he tired? Is that what it is?

Yeonjun reaches his water bottle and unscrews the cap, wondering why his throat feels kind of tight. Not allergen tight, but an odd feeling, almost restrictive, as if something in his throat is what’s giving him issues. With a deep sigh, he subdues whatever may be bothering his insides in exchange for taking a sip.

And it’s an awful idea. The moment the warmed water passed over his tongue and down his throat, he could already feel it threatening to come back for a return visit.

“Come on, come on,” he mumbles to himself, his fingers gripping the water bottle.

As he takes another sip, he realizes quite quickly what he’s experiencing here—and it’s just… nausea.

His stomach feels unsettled, and the moment the water touched it, it shattered something solid in him. His mouth feels wet already, saliva beginning to pool around his tongue. He swallows roughly to subdue it.

It doesn’t work, anyway.

Immediately, the floor doesn’t seem so solid, and neither does Yeonjun’s resolve. With shaky hands, Yeonjun swallows again, and thus begins the internal monologue of: don’t throw up – don’t throw up – don’t throw up–

And it doesn’t work. His stomach immediately summersaults and he barely has time to put the water bottle on the counter before he rushes to the small trash can, hunching over. It’s barely two feet from the ground, but it helps. He gives the can a rough spit, but it doesn’t do anything.

Immediately, Yeonjun is angry. After all these hours of working to get this done and his timing has to be the worst. He doesn’t have time. This is a non-issue.

And his stomach seizes up again. A cramp the size of a tsunami waves across him and cause him to curl down further, bringing the tall member to hover barely over the can. He doesn’t have time to focus on another wave of cramps before he just feels it come pouring upward. Warm, thick, and full of chunks, and it reeks. It felt like undigested breakfast, warm tea and cold rice working its way into the trash can at an alarming rate. Yeonjun feels shaky, so he places his hands on his knees to brace himself as another mouthful rips its way up. The noise he makes is inhumane, annoyed by how his stomach hurts, his his back is throbbing, how he has to deal with all of this in the first place. He didn’t make these plans, for sure; he wanted to be done, go home.

He coughs up another heavy mouthful, breath heaving with each effort. He hurts, aches, and he’s not getting any relief as his body continues to expel everything his stomach may have contained over the past week. Barely another cough in, a hard spit, and he’s back to coughing up bile and stomach acid once he feels himself running empty.

He feels woozy. His vision spins for a moment, and the sound of the choreographer from the speaker goes almost silent for a solid few seconds. Yeonjun’s vision blurs, then returns as another cramp seizes him. Another mouthful. He’s so shaky, he can feel himself almost willing his knees to keep him up while he spits another mouthful.

And after a moment, it stops. He’s spent, exhausted, and he crumples almost immediately to kneeling on the ground. Without a napkin and with no strength to get a tissue from the box on the side table, he merely uses the back of his hand to wipe at his mouth and spits another rough mouthful into the trash can.

“God… that fucking hurt,” he mumbles to himself.

The choreographer’s voice is too loud. The speaker is a little ways away, the remote nearby, but Yeonjun can’t bring himself to make it over there. His head feels too disjointed, almost feeling far too faint. And hot, everything feels so overwhelmingly hot. Sweat plasters his shirt to his back, and the air in the room isn’t cool enough to combat how his temperature must have spiked.

Tilting over, he merely lays down on the floor and pulls his phone from his pocket. When he opens the screen, the bright light brings the nausea back so he turns it back off. Just a few minutes, he tells himself. He’ll just wait, rest a moment, he should start feeling better in a few minutes. His eyes close.

~*~

Yeonjun isn’t sure when he fell asleep or what happened, but he awakens to Soobin’s voice on the phone and a hand gently stroking his hair. He groans, only to hear Soobin’s deeper voice hushing him softly.

“It’s okay, hyung. It’s okay, you’re okay.’

Yeonjun, strangely, believes him. A brief chill runs down his spine, but when he curls in more, he can feel the heat of Soobin’s thigh underneath his head, and the comfort of a thick sweatshirt draped over him. He just pulls his hands into the fabric more. It’s oddly very comfortable here, and with Soobin’s long fingers combing through his long locks, he almost begins to drift off again.

As he settles, he hears Soobin’s voice begin again. He must be talking to someone; Yeonjun’s vision is blurred and teary when he tries to look up, so he gives up quickly and closes his eyes. “Yeah, he just woke up for a moment. Mhmm… he hasn’t since I’ve been here, but he’s not mumbling anymore.” A pause. “Yeah, I’ll wait here.” And then: “Yeonjunie?”

“Mm?” Yeonjun mumbles in acknowledgement. He tilts his face but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Think you’re awake enough to tell me what happened?” The request isn’t unkind and Soobin’s keeping his voice low, almost as if he senses Yeonjun’s growing headache. His fingertips rake along Yeonjun’s scalp and it’s so gentle and comforting that it almost lulls him back to sleep.

“Yeonjunie?”

“’M up…” Yeonjun grumbles. His mouth feels full of cotton. It takes him another moment before he just sighs. “Dunno… tired.”

“I know… were you feeling sick all day?”

That receives a grunt and the smallest of head shakes. Yeonjun doesn’t think he felt terrible all day; actually, things were going well for the first few hours, he’s sure. Soobin doesn’t push him further, but he does pause in his hair rubbing to place a hand on Yeonjun’s forehead. Yeonjun whines, trying to tilt his scalp back to Soobin’s hand, and it gets a small chuckle from the young man as he returns his head to scratching his scalp.

“Yeonjunie?” the older one hears again, but with a soft groan, he merely pushes his head back into the sweatshirt and falls asleep again.

~*~

When he wakes up again, he’s once again struck with an overwhelming urge to vomit. He pushes himself upright, eyes opening to bright white lights, and the nausea rushes to turn his stomach inside out. And immediately there’s a hand on his shoulder, leaning him forward. He can briefly feel a bucket in his hands before he sticks his face inward and gags. But only a stringy mouthful of water and spit and bile escape him. He groans, but it turns into a gag and he manages to cough up a little more bile. With a strained cough, he spits, and feels the edge of a cup placed on his lips.

“Take a mouthful and try to rinse,” Soobin’s voice cuts in softly.

It’s commanding enough but gentle at the same time; even when speaking like authority, Soobin’s voice is always so soothing. He truly is a fantastic leader. Yeonjun just does as he’s told, taking in a sip and relishing in the sensation of cold water on his tongue before he feels something gritty and slimy in his mouth. It’s almost enough to make him gag again, but he shuts his mouth to try and avoid thinking about what it actually is and just spits the water into the bowl. He rinses a second time, before Soobin tells him to just sip slowly.

“What—” but it takes Yeonjun a moment. He still feels dizzy, he thinks; not really any pain, but he doesn’t feel very secure sitting up. His head leans forward, and a gentle hand directs him to a shoulder. Judging by the scent from earlier, it’s Soobin again. “What… did I miss?”

Soobin sighs softly, and brings the cup back to his lips. “Another sip. Yeonjunie-hyung, you’re sick, you know.”

With that, Yeonjun just groans. He doesn’t have the time, but he guesses his body made sure he did.

“Your fever’s going down, though… But this is the third time you’ve thrown up in here. The hospital’s going to keep you to get you hydrated again.”

It is? Yeonjun doesn’t even recall throwing up in here, much less being brought in here at all. That gets him to raise his head, eyes open to face Soobin. As they make eye contact, their leader smiles, relief showing in his eyes. “Feeling more awake? You’ve been out of it for the better part of three hours.”

“What happened?” he mumbles.

Apparently, as Soobin explains, Yeonjun answered his call. When he hadn’t come back for the two to leave or answered his texts, Soobin had called his phone and, half-asleep, he answered and mumbled about his stomach hurting. Soobin pieced his location together by the choreographer’s voice in the background and found him. A medical check in the practice room, a trip to the hospital in the van, blood work, and vomiting three times while asking the same question was what led them to that moment.

But he was lucid now. His skin, albeit pale, was slowly regaining its honey soft color. And he’s being held overnight, IV pushing Tylenol and saline through his veins to keep him hydrated.

With a groan, he merely puts his head back on Soobin’s shoulder, which gets a laugh from the younger leader. “Thanks, man.”

“For what, taking care of you?”

That elicits a small nod while Yeonjun closes his eyes. He’s exhausted, even though he’s been sleeping on and off this whole time.

“I did, hyung,” Hoseok insists. He’s breathing heavily, the strain of the practice pressing almost like a weight against his chest. He takes a sip of his water and lets the cool liquid rest in his mouth before swallowing it. But only one sip, he couldn’t weigh himself down with water until he felt like he’d accomplished the scene. Setting the bottle back down, Hoseok turns to the older rapper. “Can we try it again?”

Yoongi nods. “Start it from the end of the verse, we’ll launch into the chorus better.”

Hoseok answers with a nod of his own. He presses the forward button until the MP3 sped up to where they needed, then scurries back into his spot. The music begins again, and right at the beat, both boys jump and launch right into the choreography, checking their motions through the mirror before them. It was an intense song, lots of stomping and harsh moves while being quicker than it needed to be for the lyrics. But it was a cover; the band beforehand had put harsh, fast moves for effect. Their choreographer wanted to see if they could tackle it as rookies. The monthly trainee evaluation for January was delayed for the end of the month because of the holidays, so they had time to nail it. But they were determined to do well, and Yoongi noticed one of their hardest workers was his younger companion. Hoseok had a spirit about him that couldn’t be tampered. Truly, he finds it rather inspiring to work with him, even though the days are long and often tiring.

As the song trails to a stop, both boys just drop to sit on the scuffed wooden floor, breathing heavily as the song began to repeat itself through the speakers from the beginning. They’re already drenched with sweat, muscles burning from the intense movements they’ve been doing. And this is only after Yoongi had joined in; Hoseok, some strange form of early bird, had been to the studio for an hour or two already just dancing around, before he’d come back for breakfast.

Honestly, giving him a key to the dance studio was a bad idea. Hoseok spent half his life in that room, had already spent part of the holiday before Yoongi had even gotten out of bed.

It had been an hour and a half already, nearly two… Honestly, Yoongi wants to pass this evaluation but he wants lunch more. “Come on, Seok-ah, you’ve got this in the bag.”

Hoseok shakes his head, but something just looks off about him. He looks uncomfortable, like something was bothering him, and Yoongi doesn’t think it was just the choreography.

“One more time…”

Yoongi sighs. “I’m tired, Seok-ah… Come on, let’s get food and go home.”

Well, to the dorm. Their home away from home. The dancer affixes Yoongi with a disappointed look, teetering on the edge of asking to stay, but instead he sighs. “Okay. Let’s… let’s do cool-down and go back.”

Yoongi smiles, and he can see the younger one tries to return it. Hoseok slips a hand under his shirt and rubs his stomach; maybe it really is just hunger. Hopping to his feet, Yoongi goes to turn the music off, then heads over to help Hoseok to his feet. He feels his friend’s sweaty hand grip his and yanks him to his feet, only to have Hoseok stumble and tilt on edge. He almost drops to his knees but he catches himself with a step forward, both hands pressed on his thighs to keep him upright.

“Hoseok-ah!?”

“Hyung…” Hoseok grimaces. “Y-yeah?”

He’s sweating, and hard. Now, dancing for nearly four hours will do that to anyone, and there’s always times they find themselves in various states of undress from just dancing or working too hard. But something is definitely off. Hoseok’s breathing is rough, even with their short break.

“C’mon… let’s go sit down.”

Hoseok gives a shaky nod and lets Yoongi lead him to the plastic chairs shoved in the corner, dropping onto one of them. He leans forward again, propping one elbow against his knee, his other hand moving back to his stomach. Yoongi doesn’t sit just yet, instead choosing to bring Hoseok his water bottle, fanning him lightly with his own ballcap. Hoseok mumbles a small thanks, but he stays still and just tries to calm his breathing. He manages to calm down enough, but he looks uncomfortable as he sits back up.

“You okay?”

Hoseok nods. “I think breakfast just didn’t sit too well with me.”

Breakfast? But… all Yoongi could recall seeing him was some egg toast and soup. That usually sat well with everyone. Maybe their eggs were going bad. Yoongi reaches over to ruffle Hoseok’s hair, pointing to his jacket. “Let’s just hurry back. Maybe you just need something good for lunch.”

That earned a smile. “Cooking from hyung? I’m so lucky.”

Yoongi loved that smile. At least Hoseok seemed well enough to keep his spirit. And he immediately launched into a soft whine as he picked at his tee, completely damp with sweat, clinging to his chest. He decides he’s showering first, and honestly, it’s for the better; he smells sweaty. The whole room does, and often. Yoongi turns off the music and plugs in their scented dark light from the corner, hoping to take down some of the smell while they’re gone. Throwing on his cap, he leaves his jacket off and fishes for the keys to drive the two back to the dorm.

~*~

Hoseok still isn’t doing much better. Both are freshly showered and changed, and despite his tanned complexion, Hoseok just looks ashen. He says he’s okay, not one for much complaining (he called it professionalism, Yoongi called it being too brave sometimes), but Yoongi brings him a cup of tea when he notices Hoseok just holding his stomach. He figures it’s cramping, probably from too much work and not enough food, so he returns with a small bowl of seasoned rice and a spoon. Something to snack on while he finished the meat. By the time he finished, he finds the bowl of rice half eaten and Hoseok seems a little more relaxed. Yoongi sighs, placing their small row of banchan down before setting down the meat. He’s brought more rice for the two of them.

The way Hoseok’s eyes light up at the sagymeopsal just makes his day. It isn’t much, but Hoseok looks so happy he goes for a piece first instead of his usual kimchi. “Ahh hyung, this is really good!” he compliments, muffled by the meat.

Yoongi can’t help but grin back, nodding shyly as he waves the compliment off. He grabs his own piece and begins to eat. As dinner passes, Yoongi notices Hoseok seems more lively, definitely less uncomfortable than earlier. He eats a lot too, and both boys find themselves flopped on the floor in the living room, idly watching some reality dating show as they breathe through the food.

“I don’t think I can move to clean all this up,” Hoseok mumbles with a laugh. His hand finds his stomach again, bloated from probably eating so much, and he merely rubs up and down to soothe himself. But he looks happy, relaxed; and that’s all Yoongi really wanted. Perhaps today was just stressful from all the dancing. Yoongi makes a note to lecture him later, probably teasingly, but he figures right now, with how peaceful they both are, he doesn’t need to say anything. The two of them fall asleep right there on the rug, neither waking until one of the managers messaged them both late in the evening to check on them.

~*~

“Bored” with four frowny faces is the only text Yoongi receives when he checks on the dancer. His parents convinced him to come home for at least Christmas, and he agrees, especially seeing as he has some gifts for them that he afforded with his part-time job. Yoongi hasn’t spent a lot of time at home; his parents hadn’t been the most approving of his choice to join Bighit and become a trainee, and while they weren’t actively sabotaging him, it was hard to be around them with questioning remarks on if they’d debut and not have any real answers to give them. But he’s been making leaps and bounds in the rap world; he fought hard enough to make it into Bighit, he really isn’t worried. His parents had, thankfully, decided not to dwell and the few days were rather peaceful.

But every once in a while, his mind had drifted back to Hoseok. Hoseok who dragged himself out of bed early the day after their long studio morning to go right back to dancing, who had been putting on good faces up until it came time for Yoongi to head home. Hoseok who had been randomly spamming the chat just because he didn’t have company in their normally hectic noisy dorm. He must have been sad, spending another holiday up in Seoul instead of Gwangju with his family. But Hoseok said it was worth it; he didn’t want his parents to foot more roundtrip fare to get him home for Christmas when he’d only be gone for a few days, and his sister also hadn’t gone home; they could just video chat, he told them.

So Yoongi had decided that morning that he was leaving early. He tells his parents goodbye, kicks his brother playfully, and takes off back to the dorms.

As a bonus, with some extra cash his parents give him, he buys fried chicken. It’s a holiday tradition somewhere, he’s sure. Japan, he thinks? He’s not sure what the origin is but he knows it probably has to do with America. Whatever it is, he’s sure it’ll still be enjoyable.

Opening the door, Yoongi quickly shouts that he’s back, and finds Hoseok laying back on the floor in the living room watching a drama on their television, hand lazily fiddling with a tea bottle. The younger one grins at his arrival, attention immediately shifted. “Hyung! You’re back! Hey!”

Hoseok honestly doesn’t look good at all. Once again, just like he’d caught him in the practice room, he was pale and a little sweaty again, with a hand pressed against his stomach. Maybe it was just hunger again, but given how he was so pale… Yoongi was starting to doubt it.

“Brought chicken too.” Yoongi puts on a smile and sets it down on the table in front of him.

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “You came back early and brought food? Hyung, you must be an angel.”

The two laugh, and Hoseok clears a space on the table and hurries to his feet. He pauses, trying not to stagger; Yoongi’s quick to grab his arm to support him. “Hoseok-ah?”

The younger dancer grimaces, eyes shut as he takes a deep breath. He releases it with a shudder, his hand reaching up to rub at his head. “Sorry, hyung… I got dizzy for a second.”

“You don’t look well… here, sit. Let me get it for you.” Yoongi helps Hoseok back to the floor cushion, handing him his tea again, unscrewing the bottle for him. The bottle is still mostly full. “Drink some, okay?”

Hoseok nods, and goes to sip as Yoongi to the kitchen to grab a drink for himself. There’s not much in their little fridge, but he finds two colas and brings them out. It’s a special occasion; surely, whichever trainee had this will understand. He’s not sure if Hoseok will be up for the carbonation, but he wants to keep the offer there. As he returns, he finds Hoseok leaning forward, rubbing his stomach again.

Yoongi sighs. He’s glad he came when he did; Hoseok doesn’t need to be alone like this. They wait until Hoseok seems to feel a little better, whining as he sniffs the air. “Hyung… the chicken smells so good.”

“But do you think you can eat it?” Yoongi moves his hand to rub at the back of Hoseok’s neck, smiling as he watches his dongsaeng’s shoulders droop. “Is your stomach bothering you?”

Hoseok sighs. “A little, yeah…” But both boys knew Hoseok was lying; he could barely tell a convincing lie on a good day, but he looks downright uncomfortable to be where he is. Still, to prove himself, he reaches over and pulls off a piece and takes a bite. Yoongi watches him closely as Hoseok chews and swallows… and immediately leans forward.

“A lot… come on, Seok-ah, can you stand?”

“I get dizzy… I’m already a little dizzy.”

Shit. Hoseok isn’t a short kid, either. Doesn’t weigh much thankfully, but it’s all muscle. Hoseok’s always been lean limbs and slim muscles, but that doesn’t make him the lightest. Yoongi isn’t going to let them stay there though, not while Hoseok seems to be struggling so hard. He closes the travel box, sure they can put it up later, and goes to help Hoseok to his feet. And Hoseok sways. His skin goes ashen almost immediately, his eyes unfocused, and he knees seem to refrain from shaking by sheer force of will. For a solid second, Yoongi doesn’t think he can catch him, but Hoseok stumbles a step forward just in time.

The young dancer sighs. “Sorry, hyung… I kind of want to sit down.”

Yoongi just moves to Hoseok’s side. “We’re gonna need to take you to a hospital. There’s no way you can do anything like this.”

What worries Yoongi next is the immediate lack of protesting that came after. Hoseok mulls over the idea, as another grimace of pain washes over his face, and Yoongi just wraps an arm around his waist. He really does not seem to be feeling good.

“Come on, Seok-ah, let’s go.”

It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like to walk Hoseok downstairs from their dorm, but Hoseok goes without complaint. Besides a hitch of breath or a pause to wince, he doesn’t utter a single complaint. But Yoongi can feel how strained Hoseok’s small answers to his questions are, the slight tremble from under his arms. Hoseok’s skin feels so hot under his touch. When they make it downstairs, Hoseok takes to sitting on the side stairs while Yoongi orders a taxi. They’d considered the subways for all of one minute before Hoseok’s footing had slipped, and Yoongi opted against it. A taxi ride wouldn’t be awful on the finances; Yoongi’s sure replacing the sodas will cost more.

~*~

“That was… the worst taxi ride,” Hoseok grumbles as he leans heavily on Yoongi. Yoongi can’t disagree; the drive was rough, the traffic stop-and-go, and he’d taken to holding Hoseok’s hand to keep the younger dancer calm. But Hoseok’s face had taken on a greenish tint, and they weren’t even in the doorway before Hoseok pushes away from Yoongi.

“Seok-ah—”

And… splat. Hoseok leans forward by the trash can at the entrance, eyes screwed shut as he vomits again. Yoongi sighs, moving over to hold him up by his shoulders. He rubs his back with his other arm, trying to keep him calm.

“It’s okay, Seok-ah, let it out. I know it hurts.”

His hand rubs slow circles on his back, grimacing as he feels Hoseok’s back tense as he vomits another mouthful. He’s feeling warmer, and Hoseok can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt. He’s shaking completely now, one hand holding onto the pillar in the front, the other gripping his knee with white knuckles. He looks so weak, so strange, and Yoongi hates it. Hoseok, to Yoongi, has always been a strong young man; he’s always been up to every challenge, takes every job seriously, tackles every challenge he’s faced with his chin up and head held high. He’d dealt with feeling this poorly without complaining about anything. It startles Yoongi to know his friend has been suffering without asking for help at all.

But hyung’s here now. Yoongi’s not going to let him suffer alone.

Once Hoseok finishes, Yoongi’s arm around his shoulders tightens to help him up before he stumbles. Hoseok feels unsteady on his feet and he looks completely grey, and exhausted.

“Think you can make it inside?” Yoongi asks softly. “Or do you want to wait here and I’ll get a nurse—”

The automatic doors open, and a nurse hurries out with a handful of tissues. He hurries over to the pair. “Is he okay? Drunk?”

Hoseok accepts the napkins with a small mumble of thanks, wiping his mouth with the paper.

Yoongi decides to take charge talking to the nurse. He swallows his annoyance that every adult thinks the youth are nothing but trouble, and figures being direct is the best way to solve the issue.

“He’s sick. He’s having really bad stomach pain and a fever now.” Yoongi’s frown grew. “The taxi ride up here was really bad.”

The nurse, thankfully, nods and looks at Hoseok, taking in an initial evaluation. Hoseok is still unsteady but Yoongi’s holding him closely, and the man holds up one finger and hurries inside. He comes back out with a wheelchair. “Come on, let your friend sit here, we can go inside and get him signed in.”

That brings a smile to Yoongi’s lips. Finally, Hoseok will get some help.

~*~

Curled on his side in the hospital’s open room, Hoseok yawns as he looks at Yoongi. “Sorry, hyung, I know this was a lot.”

Yoongi just reaches over to stroke his hair. “That’s stupid, don’t apologize for being sick. Do they need to give you more painkillers?”

Hoseok gives a rough laugh. Through an IV, he’s received some fantastic painkillers, antinausea medication, and antibiotics, and he is completely relaxed under the thick blanket. The hospital is warm, but the medication working through his veins felt cold enough to give him a chill. While he was being examined, Yoongi had called their manager to give him a heads up and the staff promised to reimburse Yoongi for all of his efforts. Feeling a little more appreciated by the staff, albeit a little bashful for the compliments, he’d hurried off the call to return to Hoseok’s bedside.

Hoseok is already looking a little better. He’s not as pale, his cheeks finally taking on a rosier tint rather than the ashen grey he had earlier. He also didn’t look as stressed, but his eyes blink almost more rapidly as he looks at the older rapper. Yoongi reaches a hand over, stroking Hoseok’s hair back.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

“Hm?” Yoongi smiles down, long fingers raking across Hoseok’s scalp. He watches as the younger dancer’s eyelids grow heavy, another yawn escaping; Hoseok brings the corner of the blanket to his mouth and yawns into it again. As he begins to drift off, he mumbles a soft but solid, “Thank you, hyung. You’re the best.”

That startles Yoongi. Looking away as his neck begins to feel hot, he just shrugs. “You’d do the same for me, so… It’s nothin’.”

The smile on Hoseok’s face is the only indicator he’s heard, but neither of them say more.

"Hobi-ah! Hobi-ah! You didn't even get up! Come on, it's time to go."

The fan was gone, and the noona who had been there, but an uncomfortable chill had taken over its place as Hoseok squinted his eyes open. The sweat felt caked on his face, like crust gathering at his eyes. His limbs felt like lead, and it took him a few moments to register the voice. Honestly, he couldn't place the light trill until he saw Jimin appear before him, the younger singer's hand finding his shoulder.

"Come on, hero. Sejin-nim found us a ramen restaurant."

Hobi groaned. Food, while advisable and very necessary, just felt like an uncomfortable afterthought. He wasn't in the mood to eat, much less get up, but given the temperature drop in the room he kind of wished he had grabbed his hoodie.

"Jimin, have you seen my jacket?" was what Hoseok attempted to say. It came out more along the lines of, 'Jimiiii, m' jacket?' But Jimin's expression seemed clouded as he looked at him.

"You're cold? But it's so warm here..."

Hoseok nodded. He finally pushed himself to sit up, but the effort it took had him leaning forward to drop his head against Jimin's arm, his back protesting. He just felt so sore. Did he overdo it at the concert?

"Hobi... You're kinda warm."

"Mm... no, cold."

Hoseok really needed to wake up more. He normally felt tired after concerts, but this just felt painfully excessive. He lifted his head, looking towards the floor when he spotted a fresh water bottle. Perfect. Taking the water bottle, he opened it and just drank a solid third. It was lukewarm, which wasn't the tastiest, but it felt needed, refreshing. Maybe he was just a little dehydrated, some food and good sleep would help.

"Hobi... are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired, Jiminie... Just really, really tired."

---

The mere idea of dinner didn't seem to sit well with Hoseok either. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep until he felt Jin shaking his shoulder gently. He blearily opened his eyes to find Jin leaning over him, a smile growing on his hyung's face once they made eye contact.

"Come on, Hobi, dinner!" Jin cheered lightly.

With just a grown, Hoseok shut his eyes again. He really didn't want to get up. His head and his limbs felt like led, and his stomach just felt uncomfortable. But Jin's strong arms tugged at him until he budged from his seat, and he had no choice but to get up and follow along. Once out of the car, Jin paused to look at him for a moment, his grin faltering.

"You look... I don't know. Are you okay?"

"I think I just went harder during the concert than I usually do," Hoseok mumbled. He leaned over, his head dropping on Jin's shoulder. Jin promptly wrapped an arm around his side, hugging him close to him. It was comforting, warm in a way Jin always was, firm and supportive and kind. Hoseok smiled, eyes blinking heavily. "Hyung, don't let me go, I might fall asleep here."

That brought a soft, hiccupy laugh out of Jin. "Aaahhh Hobiiii, don't fall asleep standing! At least get some soup!"

Jin didn't let them dawdle longer in the cold air and he walked Hoseok inside. Limbs barely dragging along, Hoseok followed Jin to their private back room where the remainder of the band had already been seated. The room was cold, and Hoseok could feel a chill the moment he slid into his chair. He could already feel Jin's eyes focused back on him--his eldest hyung, always so observant over the smallest of things--but he pointedly stared towards the menu and attempted to focus on it.

That was until he felt two hands grip his beanie, but the hands merely pulled the hat further down to cover his ears. That.. made a lot more sense, honestly. It was warmer, having the beanie pressed snugly onto his neck, but the light material against his ears muffled the noise of the restaurant. When Hoseok looked up, he caught Jin's light smile before the older man turned to his own menu.

"It's kinda chilly in here," came Jin's only explanation.

Hoseok couldn't fight the small smile off his own face as he returned his eyes downward. He honestly was not hungry, which wasn't too surprising for him. After concerts, Hoseok usually felt rather peckish but never outright starving. A bowl of ramen or a salad could hold him over until breakfast, when he was prepared to eat everything under the sun. With a small yawn, he took a sip of the water provided and tried to tune into the conversation happening.

It was another animated night of Jungkook and Taehyung reenacting something goofy that had occurred during the concert when they were allowed to just let loose and have fun. Today's silly song had been Love Maze, which had ended up with an impromptu dance move between Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin, and Hoseok smiled down at his menu as he recalled the memory. The concert had honestly been a ton of fun, and ARMY had loved it. It had just taken too much out of him. Had he gone overboard? He couldn't even remember, but he didn't regret it regardless. He heard his name passed around, and an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Hoseok didn't waste time leaning into the embrace, humming softly at the sudden warmth... Jimin, he was pleased to see.

"Rest on me, hyung, I'll nudge you when the waiters come," Jimin spoke softly.

Hobi nodded, and as much as he wanted to just rest his eyes, he couldn't help but fall asleep on his roommate's shoulder.

---

"I think he has a fever," Jin said softly over his dinner.

Jimin had moved Hoseok from laying on his shoulder to resting his head against his thigh, and Hoseok's mouth had fallen open a bit from the change. His breathing was raspy, and as Jimin placed a hand on his cheek, he frowned as he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so too," Jimin answered. "He probably pushed himself too hard at the concert, he seemed completely exhausted when it was done."

"I was wondering about that," Namjoon chimed in as he sipped a beer. He fiddled with the plastic bag of Hoseok's to-go order of ramen--they just ordered it to-go when they first picked their meals, no one wanting to wake the dancer. It was late, and it wasn't completely uncommon for them to be too exhausted to eat, but it was a rare occurrence to see their leading dancer and team sunshine so drained. Being sick just made more sense. "Hoseok's usually still fussing over everyone after a concert, I was downright concerned when I caught him sleeping."

"Hopefully it just passes by tonight," Jin mumbled. "It could just be overheating. We worked hard during the concert."

The others nodded in agreement. Namjoon couldn't help but reach a hand to Hoseok's cheek and press his fingers against soft skin. Maybe it was just temporary, he had to tell himself; but the heat radiating against him worried him nonetheless. "I'll stop by a drugstore on the way back just in case. I don't think we've got anything in the hotel, do we?"

Jimin and Jungkook both shook their heads. Usually at least one of them had extra painkillers or various cold or throat lozenges, but he imagines they left everything in the hands of the staff. The energy seemed to dwindle after that; they were all tired, but having their J-Hope asleep and as cause for concern, they didn't seem to be as in the mood anymore. They quickly finished, and as Yoongi took care of the payments, Namjoon and Jimin tasked themselves with waking the poor young man.

"Hobi, c'mon, we're going back," Jimin tried to coax. For the first minute, Hoseok didn't respond at all, but it wasn't until Namjoon's hand tugged on his arm that he groaned, something small and pitiful.

"Hobi, c'mon." Namjoon tugged his arm again, and Hoseok tried to pull away as he blinked open his eyes.

Wait... He glanced over, taking in the decor of their booth in the shop, to Namjoon's face, brows scrunched in worry and lips pointed downward, and it dawned on him that he was still in the ramen shop. Namjoon was just relieved to see realization slowly coming back to him, as Jimin's hands found his shoulders and helped him upright.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Jimin murmured. "We're tired."

We. Collectively. Less room for Jung Hoseok to argue, and Jimin knew it. If he were to point out that Hoseok was tired, he probably would have gotten an argumentative response, something along the lines of being able to finish the night if they had more tasks, or wanted to explore. But we meant it continued more than just him, went to names he wasn't even familiar with and asked for 'rest'. We tonight meant the entire band. And honestly, it wasn't a complete exacerbation--he himself was feeling drained, and he could see exhaustion drooping on all of his hyungs. How Jungkook and Taehyung were still going strong was beyond him.

"Back to the hotel?" Hoseok asked, voice small and shaky. He just stared owlishly between Namjoon and Jimin, as if trying to discover some forbidden secret.

"That's right, Hobi," Namjoon answered. "Come on, back to the hotel."

The next morning, Hoseok just felt worse. That Monday was their first day off, and usually the staff let them partner or split up and explore the city. They didn't get a lot of opportunities during the weekends of the concert, but the next two days, if not spent in the rooms, were often spent shopping and seeing fun sights. Hoseok remembered vaguely telling Taehyung he'd go with him to the aquarium last night, he thinks (did he imagine it?), and he remembered something about a really neat store downtown, but the rest seemed vague and disjointed. Did he really agree to go out today? With limbs that didn't seem to move on their own anymore? This was difficult...

His head felt completely stuffed with cotton, heavy and plugged up like no other. His nose was stuffy, sinuses enflamed and swollen--and it came with not only a dull headache but an uncomfortable fog that seemed to just cloud his thoughts. His ears didn't feel like they worked right. Really, none of him felt right. Not completely focused, all he could think were two words upon waking: 'So tired'. He could barely breathe, and after two very uncomfortable, forced sniffs, he merely opened his mouth to take in more air.

Hoseok's phone buzzed next to him. Then twice, three times.

Groaning, he stretched a hand out to find where it had moved to last night, limb moving lazily across the comforter. Honestly, Hoseok doesn't think he charged it at all, but it definitely came from somewhere around the bed. However, after a few minutes of futile searching, he merely gave up and allowed the uncomfortable haze to take him under.

The brief nap didn't seem to last long at all. There was some sharp knocking, and someone's deep voice calling his name, rather cautiously. A minute or so later, he heard the lock click and the door slid open.

"Hobi, you alive yet?"

Ah, Namjoon. Hoseok forgot he'd given him the extra room key.

Hoseok groaned, turning to the side. His mouth felt dry, and his limbs were heavy. He didn't want to get up yet, that felt like too much energy. And for someone who could run nearly nonstop on one Americano? That was saying something.

"Hobi? You're still not feeling great, Hoseok?"

With an incoherent grumble, Hoseok nodded. He hadn't even opened his eyes, didn't want to risk upsetting his head even further. There was a thick, consistent pounding that he immediately wanted to sleep off. He heard Namjoon's steps approach and stop, and soon long fingers had begun carding through his fringe. Then Namjoon's cool hand pressed against his forehead, and Hoseok shivered--why was he so cold?

"You're still warm... guess you didn't sleep it off like we hoped," Namjoon murmured.

Sleep it off? Hoseok had to take a moment to try and recall what made him feel so lousy in the first place. He remembered falling asleep at dinner, but even returning to his room seemed hazy. Brows furrowed, Hoseok merely looked at Namjoon, eyes squinted, as if trying to search for the answers. He wasn't sure what happened--hell, he wasn't even sure if Namjoon knew. But the look on their leader's face, that heavy-set frown and pensive eyes, Namjoon certainly must have figured it out.

"We should have had you take some medicine last night." His hand raked through Hoseok's sweaty bangs, pushing them from his forehead. His touch was gentle and cautious, and his simple motions lulled Hoseok into closing his eyes, nearly dozing again. He could just figure it out later, really... This felt nice.

"Ah--" Namjoon's hand froze. How long had it been? "Hobi, wake up!"

"Mm?" Hoseok grunted in response, but didn't move from his spot. Namjoon's hand moved away, the younger boy scooting back a little. With a frown, Hoseok moved a hand over to grab Namjoon's wrist. His grip was clammy and warm, not strong at all, but he didn't meet any resistance. Hoseok dragged Namjoon's hand closer, ignoring as Namjoon's fingers whacked his sore nose, resting only when he dropped the hand right atop his head.

'Keep going,' The message was clear. 'Don't stop, it feels nice.' Being sick made sense. It honestly explained everything: the headache, the clamminess, the chills. Even exhaustion--a concert wouldn't take this much out of him, would it?

With the chuckle from Namjoon, but those familiar fingers soon find themselves pressing into his hair again, and Hoseok decides he doesn't care. He lets himself succumb to sleep once more.

---

That was unexpected. Hoseok relaxed far too fast under Namjoon's hand, and only seconds seemed to pass before he could hear soft, congested snoring from the older '94-liner. That was worrisome, especially since Hoseok didn't seem to have a problem yesterday. Did this all come along after the concert? Or had he been hiding it? It took Namjoon a moment as he tried to recall the details of the day, but with last-minute arrangements, costume changing, makeup, stage rehearsal... There was no way to tell.

Worried, he moved his hand to Hoseok's shoulder and shook, concerned Hoseok may have actually passed out in weakness. Hoseok grimaced at the shaking, trying to tuck himself further into his blanket. Okay... so he just fell asleep. Namjoon sighed, and with another ruffle of Hoseok's hair, he pulled out his own phone and immediately scrolled through the contacts to their beloved eldest hyung. He didn't even bother with text and pressed the 'dial' button immediately.

Seokjin didn't take long to answer at all. "Joon-ah, my friend! Where are you? You're missing breakfast, I'm going to eat your share if you don't come for it!"

That got a soft snort out of Namjoon. "There's a reason. Do you have the medicine in your room? I think Hobi's sick, he hasn't gotten out of bed."

The joking tone to Seokjin's voice dropped immediately. "I was afraid of that... Does he have a fever? Is he coughing?"

"He feels like he has a fever," Namjoon answered. "Haven't heard any coughing or sneezing, but he went right back to sleep really quickly."

Seokjin sighed. "Hopefully it's not too bad yet... Hang on, I'm gonna finish up here and grab the bag in the room. Just keep an eye on him until I get there."

"Alright, hyung, I'll be here."

As they disconnected, Namjoon sighed and opened up the group chat, then closed it. No use worrying the others yet. Instead, he switched to the chat with their manager, sending a quick message about his teammate's condition. The near-immediate response he received offered help if they needed it, and just said to keep him updated. Namjoon sent a thumbs-up response before drawing over the chair from the hotel's desk, dropping into it.

Leave it to Hoseok to save getting sick for after the concert. At least it was convenient timing.

"You need to tell us when you don't feel well, you silly," he mumbled, though a fond smile fell as he reached over to pet Hoseok's hair. With his free hand, he just opened up the internet and mindlessly checked his emails.

Thankfully, the wait wasn't long at all. Fifteen minutes later, and Namjoon let in a worried Seokjin who had a bag from the hotel's convenient store, a cup of something hot, and a small RJ pouch from his room. Namjoon picked up the pouch.

"Seriously, how much RJ stuff do you own, hyung?"

"Aish, Joonie, don't worry about how much RJ stuff I own!" Jin bickered playfully as he pulled items out of the bag. Fever patches, cough syrup, pepto, a bottled sprite, a few tea bags from downstairs, and even some cracker packages. Namjoon peeked into the RJ bag to find throat lozenges, painkillers, bandaids... even a small thermometer.

"The thermometer is from Sejin-nim," said Jin, and he held his hand out.

Namjoon handed it to him. The last minute inventory was a pretty good set. "Guess... let's wake him up again and see what he's feeling."

Jin nodded. He kneeled next to the bed and gently shook the dancer. He moved the blanket back, and sighed at the forlorn look the younger one gave him.

"Seokkie-ah! Come on sunshine, wake up for a little bit."

Jin?

Hoseok hummed in confusion as he attempted to turn himself onto his back. His blanket felt positively stifling now, and he was getting sweaty. He grimaced, honestly feeling uncomfortably warm as he tried to push it away. Jin helped by pulling it down to his waist, but soon that large hand pressed against his forehead again.

"You're not kidding. He's roasting. Seok-ah, how are you feeling?"

Hoseok's eyes opened, but he grimaced and shut them again. Everything seemed to spin the moment he tried to look, and it turned his stomach immediately. He curled in on his side, bringing a hand to his head.

"Bad headache?" Jin asked softly.

"Mmhmm..."

"Feeling anything else? Sore throat, upset stomach? Give us something to work with."

"But... day off," Hoseok croaked. His voice sounded hoarse, and he looked completely drained. "No working."

Namjoon snorted. "You got jokes on your sickbed. Can't be that bad."

With a smile that soon turned into a grimace, Hoseok shook his head.

...then promptly leaned over the bed and vomited. Jin barely moved back in time, but didn't manage to avoid side splatter on his shoes. Namjoon was quick with grabbing the wastebin from the desk and moving it under Hoseok's face, grimacing as the dancer gagged up another hot mouthful of sick. Jin moved to the side of the bed, rubbing Hoseok's back.

"There, just get it out..."

And get it out he did. Hoseok barely had time to take a breath in before he heaved forward again, choking out mouthfuls of thick, clustered vomit. Jin held him up by his shoulders when he noticed Hoseok's arm shaking under his own weight holding him up, and he continued to mumble reassurances until he began to slow down.

"Deep breath in, Seokkie," Jin coaxed, pulling Hoseok back from the basket. "You're done. You can't have that much more in you."

Hoseok frowned. "I--" Hoseok grimaced, voice raw. He took a moment before trying again. "I got it on you, Jinnie?"

"No, I'm fine." Jin stroked his hair. "C'mon, rinse your mouth out and then you can lie down again."

Namjoon already had a water bottle open, and Jin took it from him to help Hoseok take a sip. After swishing it around, Hoseok spit it out in the trash bin before collapsing onto the pillow behind him. Grimacing, Namjoon carried the bin to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and the bathroom's bin. He placed the towel on the mess, siently apologizing to the cleaning staff, and attempted to clean it up a little. Bile was gross, especially when it had an especially sick smell to it, but it wasn't the worst he's dealt with. He didn't get sick sympathetically--honestly, it was a small blessing, given how often colds and bugs passed around them. He'd grabbed a washcloth, and secretly handed that to Jin. Jin flashed him a grateful smile and began to wipe his shoes off.

"Well, that made for an eventful morning. Hoseok-ah, I guess in a little while, you should try some tea and then medicine. It's going to hurt your stomach more taking it while empty."

Groaning, Hoseok reached for the blanket and pulled it back to his chest. He just felt chilled to the bone now. He just wanted to sleep, see if perhaps it would go away on its own. He didn't realize he had been mumbling it aloud until he felt Jin's hand comb through his hair and his hyung sighed.

"Seokkie, that's not going to help at all. Come on, just a few sips."

"Nooo..." But it sounded small and pathetic. And Jin wasn't going to have any of it. Without much prompting, Jin's hands wrapped around his shoulders and guided him up, moving him to lay against his shoulder. But before being handed anything, Hoseok could feel something cool tapping his lips.

"Open up, put this under your tongue."

That didn't require much. Hoseok obliged, eyes closed, leaving it for Jin and Namjoon to handle on their own. Namjoon though, had frozen in his clothing, as he caught sight of the numbers climbing up. And up. 38... 38.5... 38.9... 39...

"Aish, Hoseokkie..."

It finally beeped, blinking on 39.3 C.

"It's this high already?" Jin pulled it from Hoseok's lips. "Joonie, grab one of those compresses for him. Hobi..."

Jin moved, and Hoseok grimaced again--Jin had leaned over, and his sense of balance shifted with him. He righted himself, and Hoseok, and lifted the mug to his lips. "Here, drink."

With a soft whimper, Hoseok carefully took sips of the tea. The warmth came with a strangely comforting feeling, soothing on his throat and actually settling against his empty stomach. It was weird, but he had to appreciate it. It wasn't long before he could feel the cool gel sensation against his forehead as he felt Namjoon smoothing a patch against his forehead. It was chilled and uncomfortable, but as he shivered, he could feel Namjoon setting another one on at the nape of his neck.

"Aigooooo," he whines.

Jin just laughs and strokes his hair. "You're really sick, Seokkie. These should help."

But before Hoseok could get comfortable, Jin jolted him again. "Try to take a pill before you fall asleep."

There was a whine of apprehension that surprised even Hoseok, and he looked up at Jin with unsure, squinted eyes. Namjoon had turned off the light again, leaving just a bit of light from the hotel windows. That definitely helped with the headache, but Hoseok wasn't sure if he was ready to try a pill.

"Try? Try for Hyungie?"

There was another whine, but Hoseok held a shaky hand out, curled fingers trying to uncurl. He'd try, at least once. Namjoon was quick to pop a cold and flu tablet from the packaging and place in his hand, and Jin placed a water bottle to his lips. Hoseok made quick work of swallowing the pill, before laying down. He made a beckoning hand again.

"Eh? But you took it, Hobi-ah, you're okay."

Hoseok's fingers clashed again. Namjoon laughed, but Hoseok was too exhausted to gripe about it.

"He wants you to give him your hand," Namjoon translated the gesture.

"OH. Oh, okay." Jin placed his hand in Hoseok's, and Hoseok moved the hand to the top of his head. An unspoken request--pet my hair please. Namjoon chuckled, but he wasted no time in running his fingers along Hoseok's scalp, lulling the dancer back to sleep.

Unfortunately, dozing only lasted a few seconds before his stomach flipped, and Hoseok's eyes widened. He didn't want to throw up again, not on the floor at least... As he attempted to sit up, he swayed the opposite way and found himself suddenly braced in someone's steady arms. The wastebin was handed to him, and he tilted his head down, a mouthful of bile and the little water he drank escaping into it already. Gasping, he pressed a hand over his stomach as a painful cramp waved through him, bringing with it another mouthful. Hoseok gagged and coughed out another long stream, of leftover food from somewhere deep within him and stomach acid. It honestly hurt his throat, and he could feel his eyes stinging with tears from the pain.

Jin's arms just held Hoseok tightly as his body convulsed, a nearly gutteral sound escaping as he retched. There really wasn't anything left in him, and yet his body felt like it needed to purge out whatever viral affliction was plaguing him.

From Namjoon: "Hobi, take a breath!"

Hoseok retched again, then opened his mouth and tried to just take a breath in. It came in as a strangled gasp, mouth open as spit drained from his lips. Another attempt and he managed to settle the urge to vomit again, at least. Namjoon borught the water bottle back to his lips.

"Here, rinse."

Ah... Hoseok followed the instructions easily, letting Namjoon hold the bottle as he brought it to his mouth and swished the liquit about, before spitting it in the can. Namjoon moved the trash can to the floor and ran a hand through Hoseok's sweat-damp hair as Hoseok slumped against Jin.

"It's okay, you stopped," he said softly. "So... I guess that was too much."

Hoseok whimpers. "I'unna lie down..."

Jin laughed but helped ease him to the pillow, draping the covers over his shoulders. He lay on his side, grimacing as another cramp rippled through his stomach.

Jin rubbed his shoulder softly. "Try to rest while you can, okay? We're staying here with you."

"Mm... okay. Don't leave." And with that, Hoseok let sleep overtake him once again.