#!fainting

“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.

The boys had been buzzing with excitement since they woke up that morning in the dorm. Hoseok had, unsurprisingly, woken up second only to Seokjin, and the two happily shared a moment over tea as they waited for their manager to bring them breakfast. It was going to be another long day of filming, but they had been rehearsing nonstop for the past few weeks. Hoseok felt good about practice; they were going to do great.

After helping wake up the rest of the boys, they crammed into the bathroom in groups as they rushed to brush their teeth and wash faces and change. The typical days in the Bangtan household when they were grabbing things for a shoot were just consistent noise and jokes, barely even silent when they shoved food in their faces.

"You sure you're not going to finish your rice, Hoseok-hyung?" Jungkook asked as his hand gently wrapped around the small bowl.

"Aish, you food thief! Just take it." Hoseok made a stabbing motion with his chopsticks, slow enough that Jungkook managed to pull his hand and the rice bowl away before the utensils hit the table below. Carbs weren't bad, but they made Hoseok feel heavy on their mass dancing days. He just shoved a piece of pork belly into his mouth and chewed quickly before washing it down with soup.

"Twenty minutes then we've gotta head out!" Sejin called to them from his seat in the entrance way. "Make sure you all eat something!"

He honestly didn't have to tell them twice. Shouting of missing socks and passing shoes, grabbing any last-minute needed items, a missing pair of headphones, water, and Sejin had the gang out right on time. Everything seemed to become a whirlwind from there. They had their choreographer there for any last minute reminders, but Hoseok was also there to make sure everyone remembered. The setting of Boy In Luv's music video had been a school, with most of the dancing taking place in the classroom. The company had rented a school set for the first day of filming, and they were nothing but laughs. Honestly, filming wasn’t as tough, they were extremely prepared. For their first major comeback, they had gone all out with preparations. Long nights of practicing and rehearsals and finetuning, but it would be worth it.

Hours had passed before they knew it. Downtime for set-changes and makeup touchups had been spent playing around for the cameras or checking the footage. Hoseok had been bouncing between goofing with Taehyung and Jungkook, and talking with the choreographer and the camera staff. For some reason, things felt almost… airy.

“Hoseok-ah?” one of the makeup noonas called to him.

He’d been staring at the monitor as the choreographer checked the captured footage again, and although he was also examining it… did he almost space out? The young woman brought him back to earth, and the ground almost felt shaky as he turned to face her. She took a sheet of oil blotting paper out and pressed it against his forehead.

“You’re sweating a little, let me touch you up real fast before next take.”

He found himself smiling, closing his eyes a little as she gently pressed powder on his forehead. The noonas were nice, Hoseok liked their staff. He waited as she swept a brush over his nose and checked his cheeks, blotting out a few oily spots with rice paper. Hoseok always got sweaty if they rehearsed too hard or if it was too warm, but he was actually a little chilled in the room. When she finished, she smiled up at him. “All done.”

The director on set at that moment called out to them, one more take from the middle chorus. The footage looked good, but the producing staff wanted a different angle. Which meant one more time. The team moved back to the front of the classroom and arranged themselves, and Hoseok suddenly felt his footing leave him. He bumped right into Jimin, and both boys laughed it off.

“Okay, ready?” They nodded.

“Dul, set!”

~~~

Namjoon wasn't exactly sure what happened. One moment, they'd been dancing while the camera followed them, and the next, the staff was stopping them due to a syncing error. Hoseok had stepped out of place, which was already bizarre given their dance captain was a stickler for details. Nerves, Namjoon had been willing to dismiss it--but as he'd turned his head, he caught sight of Hoseok’s eyes rolling to the back of his skull, and the dancer crumpled almost immediately. His body hit the ground hard.

"Hoseok-ah!"

"Hoseok-hyung!"

"Seok-hyung!"

Son Sung Deuk, their choreographer, was quick to move to their aid, pushing Hoseok onto his back. "Don't crowd him."

Namjoon just stared at his fellow 94-liner, whose face had gone white as a sheet, and he felt terrified. Namjoon and Hoseok had been through a lot together as friends. They were some of BigHit's earliest trainees, and they were two of the first three in the group. They had been roommates and friends for nearly five years now, and they'd already seen each other's good and bad sides. They’d been there for each other’s first worst drunken nights, overworked injuries, seasonal illnesses… But one side Namjoon had never seen was a nearly-lifeless Hoseok looking so ashen. Hoseok had often overworked himself dancing, but not to the brink of collapse, not like this... He wasn't sure what he could do, if there was anything he could.

Faintly, Namjoon could feel a small hand grip onto his arm, and he looked down to realize it was Jimin, whose eyes were wet and worried. Namjoon automatically wrapped an arm around the younger one's shoulders and held him close, a gesture of comfort, but he had to honestly wonder if this was to comfort himself as well.

Sung Deuk felt for Hoseok's pulse, then placed a hand on his forehead to check for a fever. Hoseok, albeit unconscious, was breathing a little too hard for their liking, almost struggling with the strain of trying to keep air going, and the older man began to fan Hoseok with his hand. One of the makeup noonas rushed over with an electric fan and took over trying to cool him down.

"Hoseok-ah, wake up! Come on, kid!" His hand shook Hoseok's shoulder gently, then pat his cheek.

The boys held their breath, waiting for a response. Another staffer hurried over, bringing with her an ice pack which she pressed against his neck. A third behind them, Namjoon noticed, had an AED kit--just in case, it seemed. Namjoon’s blood ran cold—if they needed a defibrillator…

At first touch of the cold pack, Hoseok's head lulled to the side from Sung Deuk's motions, but soon he grimaced, a hand slowly moving to his head. He opened his eyes, but quickly shut them at the light.

"Hobi-hyung!" Jimin and Jungkook both squeaked out.

"Nn... what happened?" Hoseok mumbled, voice slurred in confusion. " 'm not... the dorms."

They all sighed in relief. There was some realization there, that was a good sign. Sung Deuk smiled, patting his hair carefully. "You fainted, kid. Just take a deep breath for me, we're gonna get you some help."

Hoseok frowned, his lips forming the so familiar pouting siot letter even while disoriented and confused. Although his eyes were closed, Namjoon could tell he seemed ready to cry. "It's okay, Hope-ah," he tried to encourage. His voice was trembling. He swallowed it back, for his friend’s sake. "They're gonna take care of you."

"Joon-ah...?" Hoseok asked softly. His hand in his hair balled into a loose fist, and Sung Deuk gently peeled his fingers back and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze in his own.

"Yeah. I'm here, we're all here," Namjoon answered him. Reaching a hand over he smoothed back Hoseok’s hair. His hand stroked his cheek gently, and his older friend seemed to melt under the touch. His face began to relax, turning his cheek towards the touch. It seemed to be soothing, and he was glad that even though he wasn’t sure what caused the sudden ailment, at least it was easing his pain.

The staffer with the ice pack just moved it around as she spoke with Sung Deuk in hushed tones, and the two decided to move him from the floor. “Hoseok-ah,” Sung Deuk called softly, “let’s try to sit up, okay? Joon-ah.”

Namjoon nodded, shifting a little closer. As Sung Deuk pulled Hoseok’s arm, Namjoon moved behind him to help hold him up—and Hoseok’s eyes rolled in the back of his skull again. His body felt almost too heavy as he immediately fell back on Namjoon, and for a moment Sung Deuk watched him carefully. Namjoon was absolutely horrified, holding Hoseok in his arms as if he’d break if he let go.

“What happened?” he could hear Jin asking behind them.

“I think his blood pressure dropped.” Sung Deuk sighed as the realization hit him. He’d seen this in some performers before, especially some of the hardest working trainees. “He probably overdid it and didn’t realize… We’re going to take him to the hospital.”

As Sejin hurried over, Sung Deuk reached to pull Hoseok from Namjoon, but the tall rapper was too concerned to let his buddy go. Their choreographer had to smile, and he reached a hand for Namjoon’s shoulder. “Let us carry him to the car, okay?”

Hoseok stirred at that moment, head falling to Namjoon’s shoulder. With that, Namjoon sighed, nodding. He uncurled his hands and, with Jin’s help, the three of them got Hoseok onto Sejin’s back. Sejin quickly walked with him out of the classroom, the other boys hurrying after him. It was only once they made it to the van did they turn to the group for a headcount. Teary eyes, worried faces…

“Only one of you. He’s going to be just fine, but I don’t need all six of you worrying in the waiting room,” Sejin said to the group.

It was unanimous, and with a gentle shove from Jimin who’d been clinging to his sleeve, Namjoon stepped forward. “I’ll go,” declared their leader.

With a nod, Sejin wasted no time in turning back to help Hoseok into the car. He’d come to once more, and despite being a little disoriented, was coordinated enough to climb into the van and sit on his own. Sejin moved to the front to the driver’s seat and Namjoon crawled in on the other side, but it was then that the Hoseok could see the worried faces of his band members. He seemed confused, but despite the grimace that seemed to take residence on his face, he put on a bright smile for the boys.

“I’m okay, it’s okay,” he told them softly.

“H-hyung,” Jungkook squeaked, before more tears began to fall from his cheeks. Jin pulled him close to his chest. Before they could get too emotional, Sung Deuk buckled Hoseok in and pat his shoulder. “See you soon.”

“Ah… yeah.” Hoseok gave him a shaky thumbs up. And with that, Sung Deuk closed the car door. From there, they decided to call a break for the rest of them. Missing two of them, there wasn’t much else they could do, and the boys they knew would be too worried for their fallen comrade to focus, so their filming staff didn’t make them. With their choreographer leading them back into the classroom area, they went for snacks and drinks, and the staff made sure to check on each of the boys to make sure they were physically feeling okay and staying hydrated. They couldn’t have another one falling apart on them.

~~~

The hospital had gotten to Hoseok quickly. Hoseok managed to stand on his own alright when the driver pulled the car to the front, but he looked pale and weak as Namjoon held his arm. They opted to set him in a wheelchair to lead him in, concerned about his double fainting spells, and the nurse led them to a private room in the back. A brief checking of his vitals showed no illness, but definite signs of overexertion. Preliminary scans showed no concussion, but he was dehydrated enough that the staff had attached him to an IV almost immediately.

Only a few minutes into the bag and color already began to return to Hoseok’s face. Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at Hoseok and noticed his friend’s demeanor already perking up a little from the cot he lay on. He still looked tired, but not as pallid, and definitely seemed more aware of everything going on in the hospital. With a sigh of relief, once the doctor left, Namjoon just smacked his arm.

“Don’t scare us like that anymore, Seok-ah!”

Hoseok grinned, looking exhausted but still amused. “I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry, I ruined the shoot.”

“You didn’t ruin the shoot. Sejin-nim said we can always go back.”

Sejin, sitting in the corner, nodded as he typed away on his phone. “We can have the studio for another day. If you’re feeling better tomorrow, Hoseok-ssi, we can try again tomorrow.”

With that, Hoseok’s smile fell and he shook his head. “No, let’s try tonight. I’ll be okay.”

Sejin and Namjoon both frowned at that.

“No way, Seok-ah.”

“Yes way, Joon-ah.”

Both of them frowned at one another, until someone cleared their throat from the doorway. At the sight of the doctor, Namjoon bowed slightly and stepped back. “Doctor, he’s going to need to rest for the day after this, won’t he?”

“I’m feeling better,” Hoseok answered instead.

The doctor chuckled as he walked over. “I know you’re eager to get back, Hoseok-ssi, but we just need to make sure this won’t happen a second time.” He moved over to check Hoseok’s vitals again, pleased to know he didn’t develop a fever. He already ran warmer than normal, but his temperature hovered right at 99F. His pulse seemed back to normal too, which had him smiling. Hoseok watched the check, eyes more aware. “Well… You are stable as he is right now. What I want to do is at least get your blood sugar up, see if that will help as well.” With that, he reached into the pocket of his white coat and handed Hoseok a package of salted crackers and a granola bar. “Eat these.”

Hoseok looked at the snacks and grinned. “Thank you, Doctor!”

The doctor pat his shoulder and left the room, and Namjoon sighed, reaching over to open the cracker pack. “So you just needed water and snacks? Jeez, Hoseok-ah, next time eat the rice at breakfast!”

Laughing, Hoseok shoved Namjoon’s hand back and bit into the granola bar. Not deterred, Namjoon opened the pack anyway and stole a cracker. Hoseok just snacked lazily as Namjoon pulled out his phone and called Yoongi’s cell, amused when it was quickly on speakerphone. After reassuring them that everything was fine, they merely chatted for a few extra minutes as background noise, about their game plan. They still had to wait for the doctor’s clearance for Hoseok to leave, but they couldn’t make any rash decisions yet. The boys knew that. They were just relieved to hear Hoseok awake, laughing along with another terrible joke from Jin.

The doctor returned half an hour later, and after confirming Hoseok’s vitals were still looking good, he gave them the clearance to leave. He heavily recommended they take him home to get some rest and a proper meal later, and orders to return if systems persisted. But they were free to go.

“Guess it was just a fluke,” Namjoon said, ruffling his friend’s hair.

Hoseok swatted his hand away, but looked at Sejin the moment the doctor left the room. Sejin grabbed Hoseok’s uniform jacket and turned to look at him, but the young dancer reached up for it. “We were almost done with filming, right?”

Sejin nodded. “Just the last rose scene with the actress, and the second set before tomorrow’s film change.”

Looking up at him, Hoseok nodded. “Can we go back?”

That had the manager pausing, staring as if he didn’t hear the young man before him. But given Hoseok’s determined look… despite overworking himself to the brink, Hoseok was still ready to give it his all.

Namjoon and Sejin exchanged glances. And Namjoon turned back to his friend. “Hobi—”

“No, let’s go back,” Hoseok interrupted him. “I’m okay, I can finish the dance.”

“But Hobi, you just—”

“And I feel better now. I don’t want to set us farther back.”

Sejin sighed. “It won’t set us back. We can just book the set again; we have time through editing.”

But Namjoon could see the determination in Hoseok’s eyes. When his friend became this driven, it was very hard to say no to him. Namjoon just slumped in the chair, closing his eyes. “Take a nap, Hob-ah. If you’re still doing okay when we get there, we’ll see what Sung Deuk-nim says when we get there.”

That was as close to ‘yes’ as possible. Hoseok grinned and just leaned against Namjoon, eyes closing as he felt Namjoon’s arm drape over his shoulders. Despite his best attempt, he did doze right on his leader’s shoulders. Namjoon waited until he heard Hoseok’s little sleeping sniffle before he opened his eyes, making brief contact with Sejin from the front seat.

“He’s not going to take no for an answer even when we get back, is he,” Sejin sighed.

Namjoon nodded. “He barely listens to me on a good day about rest. But if we work through the evening…”

“I’m sure we can clear your schedules for tomorrow.” Sejin smiled, immediately opening a text message. Namjoon smiled; Sejin kept his promises, he’d make it work out.

~~~

“Pleeeease?” Hoseok begged. He was a lot more chipper when they arrived, apparently feeling loads better after the car’s power nap. The commute wasn’t a far distance, but the traffic getting back in midday Seoul rush-hour took nearly an hour. It was enough time for Hoseok and Namjoon to both catch power naps, but while Namjoon still seemed to be waking himself up, Hoseok was bright-eyed and energetic. Perhaps some of it was an act, anything to convince their choreographer to continue, perhaps it was just to convince himself.

Their choreographer sighed, giving him another once-over. He’d already briefed the others that their dance leader wanted to continue and had pushed them back to the stylists for refreshing their makeup to play it safe. They only had a few scenes left, having finished with their female co-star before Hoseok’s earlier collapse. It would be intense, primarily dancing, but Hoseok’s determination shown too brightly to be ignored.

And he was a softie. He caved immediately.

“Go revisit the stylist-noonas. Joon, you too, your hair’s flattening. We’ll resume in 30 minutes.”

Hoseok cheered aloud. His enthusiasm was infectious, the three maknae joining in on his cheers as he nearly skipped over to the stylist’s room. Jin just looked to Namjoon, who had paused to shrug off his hoodie.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Jin asked.

“Of course not,” Namjoon grunted back. He just sighed heavily. “But he’s not going to listen to me. We’re just going to have to watch out for him. The doctor said he was okay to leave, so Hob-ah says it was just a fluke.” The two shared worried glances with Yoongi, who’d come over after fixing his shoes.

Yoongi just shook his head. As their second eldest and a great reader of people, they both silently asked for his input. Yoongi thought on it for a moment, then shrugged. “You said Sejin-nim’s clearing our schedule tomorrow, right? It’s worth letting Hobi tire himself out with a job well done. He’ll be stressed out if we don’t let him try, and then we’ll all have to wake up early tomorrow.”

That was true… they’d probably have to continue early, which wouldn’t help any of them. It wasn’t like they had healthy rest schedules, being a rookie group anyway, but if they were getting a clear schedule over pushing through one evening, it was worth trying.

They heard loud laughter coming from the stylist room, and could immediately tell it was Hoseok’s.

“That does it, then.” Jin sighed, pushing Namjoon’s shoulder. “Go on and get your curly chicken feather fixed.”

“It doesn’t look like a chicken feather, hyung!” Namjoon complained, but he hurried over to get his hair fixed as Jin gathered the maknae back over. They were in for a long evening.

~~~

It wasn’t as long as they’d thought, surprisingly enough. The seven boys gathered around the monitor behind their choreographer while he replayed their last clip of footage. It was clean, insanely clean. Their best take yet! And with that, the cinematographer clapped his hands and dismissed them for the day. With a loud cheer, the group bowed to the staff before they were lined up to film the end of the shooting sketch. Excited to be done, Yoongi went for the camera first, hamming it up with Taehyung. Namjoon glanced over at Hoseok, who looked tired but proud, glad they’d finally finished the filming and wouldn’t need to push anything further. With one final cocky phrase to the camera, Hoseok did his best to look smug, but he hurried off as dots began to swim in his vision again. As the camerawoman moved to film Jungkook and Jimin next, Hoseok found the closest seat and dropped down, sighing.

Namjoon and Yoongi just fanned him with their hands. With a thumbs up from Sejin, Namjoon reached over to ruffle his friend’s hair.

“Come on, Seok-ah, let’s go home.”