"get dressed up for a casual date"

Evan sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror in their bedroom He’s excited, any time they do something that isn’t just curled up on the couch these days is exciting, but he’s also tired. He’s not sure if he’s coming down with something or just run down from his last shift, but going out feels like the last thing he wants to do. 

He fumbles with the button at the top of his shirt, looking up in the mirror once more. He’s paired a baby blue button-down with navy dress pants—an outfit Tommy has made more than clear he’s fond of. Evan’s pretty sure it’s just because it makes the color in his eyes pop more, but he’s not complaining. When he’d seen Tommy walk into the bathroom with his own outfit, he was fairly positive his boyfriend had color-coordinated their outfits. 

He grabs his navy oxfords as he walks out of the bedroom into the kitchen, and settles in a chair to slip them on. As he’s finishing tying the second one, Tommy comes out of the hallway and Evan trails his gaze down his body, and while he doesn’t magically feel better, he definitely appreciates the sight. 

Tommy has a medieval blue polo on underneath a smoke-gray collared cardigan and paired with black jeans. 

“You look hot,” Evan rasps, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Tommy smirks back up at him as he adjusts his watch, letting his own gaze take Evan in as he stands up from the chair. 

“Not so bad yourself, baby.” He crosses the space and drops a kiss to Evan’s lips. Evan leans into him, sighing softly. Tommy lifts a hand to his cheek, brushing his knuckles gently over his jaw. He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “You feeling okay? You’re a little warm.” 

Evan shrugs, leaning into his hand. “‘m fine.” 

Tommy tilts his head further at him, clearly questioning the honesty of that statement. He shakes his head after a moment and glances down at his watch again. 

“Why don’t we just go, make an appearance, and come back home,” he offers. “We can order pizza and watch Oppenheimer.” 

Evan nods, and Tommy kisses his birthmark before stepping away and grabbing his keys from the hook by the doorway. Evan follows after him through the house and out to the truck. 

When they’ve pulled out of the driveway, Tommy reaches across the center console and grabs Evan’s hand, tracing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. He glances over at him as they pull up to the exit of his neighborhood towards the main road. Evan has his head on his fist, eyes closed. 

“Babe.” 

“Hmm?” He opens his eyes slowly, glances over at Tommy. 

“You sure you’re okay,” he asks again. “And don’t lie to me this time.” 

Evan blinks slowly a few times, staring out the window at the twilight sky. 

“I’m just tired,” he murmurs, turning on the headrest to look over at Tommy. “Besides, Maddie put a lot of work into tonight.” 

Tommy nods. Pretty much from the morning after their engagement, Maddie had started planning a party for them. And for as obnoxious as Evan had been about making sure that Chimney had a proper bachelor party—never mind the fact that he didn’t actually attend it—they’d requested something small. They were open to formal or semi-formal, but just wanted it to be their closest friends. 

Tommy turns the truck onto the interstate, keeping most of his focus on the road but still glancing over from time to time at Evan. He’s nodding off again, which makes him want to turn around and take them back home. Still, he knows even if Evan is dozing, he’s still conscious, and he would not be okay with them not showing up at all.

“Think you can manage twenty minutes,” Tommy asks him. 

“Mmhm.” 

. . . 

When they pull up outside of Maddie and Chimney’s house, Evan rouses, mostly because of the change in motion. He glances over at Tommy and smiles wearily before unbuckling himself and getting out. As he makes it around the vehicle, Tommy is coming out of the driver’s side, reaching for his hand. Evan reaches around himself with his right arm and pulling Tommy’s arm across his body. Tommy rests his hand on his hip, giving a few light rubs as they cross the street towards the house. There are cars everywhere already, which makes him think they’re probably the last to arrive. 

“Are we late,” Evan asks as they stroll up the walkway. 

“If we are, it’s fashionably so,” Tommy jokes. He lets Evan step in front of him onto the front stoop and open the door, following closely behind him. 

“Hey, they’re here,” Eddie calls out from inside the house. 

“Buck! Tommy!” 

Tommy steps inside the house, only to be quickly met with Christopher tossing an arm around each of them. They both hug him back, and when he steps back, their friends are starting to swarm, greeting them with hugs. 

“Can I get you both a drink,” Maddie asks from the back of the pack. Tommy glances over at Evan, remembering their discussion in the car, but Evan shrugs. 

“Just some water for now,” he replies. When Maddie glances up at him, Tommy nods as well. 

Much as Tommy tries to stick to the plan, their twenty minutes pass before they’ve even managed to properly greet everyone. They get pulled in opposite directions—Evan by Eddie and Bobby while Tommy ends up in a discussion with Hen and Chimney. Tommy keeps shooting glances in Evan’s direction anyway, watching for any sense of him trying to break away. But after almost forty-five minutes, they’re still on opposite sides of the room and Evan seems to be deep into a discussion with Christopher and has somehow also collected Jee-Yun onto his arm. 

“Let me use the bathroom,” Tommy interjects, midway through Hen insisting Tommy still owes her a round of lunch. He walks away from them, through the dining room and into the kitchen, passing Eddie and Lucy deep in conversation as he does. He finds Maddie at the counter, moving hors d’oeuvres onto a plate. 

“Evan doing okay,” she asks as she glances back into the other room. “He seems kinda out of it.” 

Tommy shakes his head. “I think he’s coming down with something, but we didn’t want to bail.” 

Maddie shoots him a glance. 

“What?” 

She laughs, shakes her head at him. “Please, Tommy. I know you well enough now to know that you would’ve stayed home if he would’ve allowed it.” 

“Someone has to stop him from going ‘full Buck’ all the time,” Tommy reminds her, reaching for one of the mini sausages on the plate. “Besides, I think he has a low-grade fever.” 

 Maddie shakes her head again, but there’s a smile on her face. She looks around the corner into the family room again, spotting Jee in Evan’s arms. 

“Wait, you said fever,” she asks. “He’s got my daughter right now.” 

It’s Tommy’s turn to chuckle at her as he picks up the platter she’s been working on. 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Now help me get him out of here while he’s still functioning so that we’re both not cleaning up vomit tonight,” he asks. 

Maddie nods, picking up another tray of food. They walk back out into the other room and set the trays on the table in the dining room. Maddie manages to draw everyone’s attention by mentioning food, and people are quickly lining up thereafter, Jee taking off in front of the group to get served first.

Tommy crosses the room then, grabbing Evan by the bicep as their friends move towards the dining room. 

“You doing okay,” he asks, lifting a hand to Evan’s cheek. He’s more flushed, and Tommy swears he feels warmer. 

Evan lets out a sigh. 

“I feel like we should stay,” he comments. “We just got here.” 

Tommy shakes his head at him. “You’re flushed, and you’re warm. I talked to Maddie.” 

Evan glances past him towards his sister. She’s helping Jee, but she glances up in his direction in a way that tells him she’s been waiting for him to find her, and she gestures her hand in a ‘shoo’ motion. 

“People are gonna notice,” Evan rasps, even as Tommy turns him towards the door. 

“Let them,” he replies, opening the front door. “Your sister will explain. You need to get home into bed.” 

Evan huffs, but doesn’t argue as they walk out of the house. 

. . .

Half an hour later, he’s tucked Evan into their bed with fever reducer and a glass of water on the bedside table, changed back into sweats. He steps out of the bedroom as Evan dozes softly in the ambience of the tv across the bedroom, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lifting it to his ear. 

“How bad’s the fever,” Eddie asks from the other end of the line. 

“Just under a hundred and two,” Tommy replies. “Didn’t realize you noticed.” 

“That he was as red as his birthmark? Yeah, I noticed,” Eddie chuckles. “Everyone just started realizing y’all left, but it seems like they’re still sticking around. I gotta get Chris to a birthday party. Can I bring you some food?” 

Tommy glances into the bedroom again as Evan coughs, rolls over in his spot on the bed. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that,” he replies. “I was going to bring some home, but I knew we were on a time limit.”

“Nah man, I got you covered,” Eddie resonds. “Hey Chris, get me some more of that. Maddie?” 

Eddie’s voice gets more faint and he can only make out some of what his friend is saying as he seems to gather things for them to leave. A moment later, he’s back.

“Alright. I’ve got some stuff put together. Chris’ party is a few block from you guys, so text me if you need anything else. I’ll be around in a bit.” 

Tommy nods, even though Eddie can’t see him. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, Eddie,” he states. Evan coughs again, the kind that makes Tommy’s chest hurt just from the sound. “I’ll check the medicine cabinet and get back to you in a few.” 

He ends the call a moment later and strolls back into the bedroom as Evan tugs their quilt higher on him, shivering. Tommy settles down next to him and brushes a hand through his hair. 

Annabeth woke to the chatter of her siblings getting ready for the day. Immediately she wanted to go back to sleep when she felt how her body was aching. Her head down to her toes felt heavy. She knew she was sick, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the painfully bright lights of the cabin.

“Annabeth is awake.” the familiar voice of one of her siblings, although it was hard to make out who was speaking with how clouded her mind felt from her suspected fever. 

“Are you feeling alright Annabeth?” said a new voice. 

“…mm fine..” she muttered, trying to bring her self to sit up in bed.

“Are you sure? You look pale. And you never sleep in this late, you’re usually the first one up.”

“just.. tired.” she said. Her siblings were not convinced. When Annabeth finally summoned the strength to get out of bed, they decided to drop the issue. 

-

Breakfast for Annabeth was a bowl of oatmeal with craisins sprinkled throughout.  She sat down at the loud crowded Athena table. Annabeth loves her siblings. That being said, she wishes they had an off button sometimes.

“I’m going to sit with Percy.”, before her siblings could point out how they are meant to sit at their cabin table, Annabeth dashed over to Percy’s table. Percy, the only son of Poseidon, was demolishing a plate of fried eggs when Annabeth plopped down next to him. She had initially wanted to keep her illness a secret, but she needed the comfort of her boyfriend. 

She leaned into his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her. “Good morning to you too, Wise Girl. Are you okay?”

She groaned in response. “Guess not, huh? What’s the matter?”

“Everything. I feel like shit. Head hurts. Stomach hurts. Everything.” she said, snuggling closer against him. If Percy didn’t feel so bad for her right now, he would have found it cute.

“Do you want to go back to your cabin? Doesn’t look like you’re eating much anyway” he pressed his hand against her forehead. “and you definitely have a fever”. 

“It’s too loud in there.”

“Well let’s go to mine then.”

Annabeth knew that was against camp rules. But she felt so awful, she couldn’t care less.

“Okay.”

And with that, the pair snuck off back to cabin 3.    Cabin 3 has a couple extra beds, yet Annabeth still flopped into Percy’s.

“Should I get you anything? Some water maybe?”

“Cuddles.”

“If you insist!” Percy said, laying beside her. She immediately curled into his warmth and fell asleep, his arms wrapped around her, making her little spoon.

-

The next time she woke up, it was the dangerous churning of her stomach that woke her. She bolted up right and practically sprinted to the bathroom. Percy felt the commotion beside him and was torn from his rest. He pushed open the bathroom door to find Annabeth, her skin as white as a ghost with a tinge of green, hanging over the toilet with her mouth agape.

He sat beside her, pulling her blonde-gray-streaked hair out of the toilet, not minding the wet bits that had previously fallen into the bowl. 

He rubbed her back and waited. He didn’t have to wait long before Annabeth burped wetly, recognizing the oatmeal from breakfast splashing into the water. 

Eventually, Annabeth’s body decided it was finished ejecting its contents and let her relax. 

“Better?” Percy asked.

“For now.” Annabeth responded sheepishly.

🫶

(Set in the old dorms)

“You guys can go without me. Really, I’ll be okay here. It’s just a little cold anyway. I’ll probably just sleep the night away, you don’t have to waste your new year on me.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But make sure you take you take you medicine and drink lots of water. The flu is no joke.” Chan said. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Jisung nodded.

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” he said, hooking pinkies with Chan, before ducking into his elbow to let out a harsh cough. 

“You guys have fun without me, alright?” Jisung said, parting ways with Chan. 

Jisung flopped onto his bed. He stayed there peacefully, but that peace didn’t last long, as he felt bile rising in his throat. Since the rest of his members were distracted getting ready to go, he slipped off to the bathroom, hoping to be able to be sick alone. He fell in front of the toilet, barely having time to open the lid before letting out a wet belch, a fountain of the little he’s eaten today spewing out painfully. The acidity burned his already sore throat. Tears spilled down his face, mixing with the remnants of vomit splashed on his face.

When he finally got a break, he leaned back against the wall, hearing a knock on the door.

Shit, he’s been caught.  He really didn’t want any of his members with him right now. He can handle his own.

“Hannie, can I come in?” Minho. Jisung has a soft spot for Minho. Maybe he can let him in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have Minho take care of him.

He scooted himself to the door, quickly reaching up to unlock it. He scurried back to the toilet, feeling the second wave of vomit on its way up. Minho opened the door just as Jisung lost whatever was left in his stomach.

He cringed in sympathy, dropping to his knees and rubbing jisung’s sweaty back who instantly leaned into his touch. 

It didn’t take long before he had run out of stomach contents to bring up and was left dry heaving over the tainted water, occasionally coughing.

“Hannie I think you’re empty.” Minho stood, grabbing one of the little paper cups by the sink usually used to wash their mouths with water after brushing their teeth and filling it with water. He handed it to jisung who swirled the water around in his mouth before spitting it out, hoping to get rid of the foul taste left in his mouth. Minho took the cup and refilled it, passing it back to Jisung. 

“Drink it this time.”

Jisung complied of course.

“I’m going to stay back with you.”

“Nooo.” Jisung whined, laying his face on the toilet seat, almost blending in with the porcelain with how white his face was. In truth, Jisung wanted Minho to stay back. But he would never admit that.

“Okay Ji. Couch or bed?”

“Couch.”

He helped Jisung to get comfy on the couch, setting him up with a bucket and a box of tissues. Once he was all situated, Minho went to inform Chan that he was going to stay back, who was relieved that Jisung wouldn’t be alone all night while sick. He waved the rest of the group goodbye before voyaging back to the living room, the quiet hun of hans snores, who had fallen asleep sitting up. Minho sat down carefully onto the couch as to not wake the sleepy quokka. Jisung leaned into Minho’s warmth, feeling chilly from his fever. Minho cozied up under the blanket with him, placing his hand on Han’s forehead lightly, unsurprised at how warm he felt. Jisung rested his head against Minho’s shoulder. 

The next time the pair woke up was just about midnight, just in time to see the fire works. The colors bursted in the sky beautifully. Luckily, they’re dorms are far away that it’s not crazy loud and the just get to enjoy the colorful show. 

Although it was pretty, Han felt his stomach stirring. He urgently grabbed the bucket off the floor and put it between his legs, quickly drawing Minho’s attention from the fireworks display. He felt his hands combing through his hair, the sensation immediately relaxing him. The gagging was painful, his stomach had nothing left to give, it was turning inside out to try and find something to send up. Somehow, this was ten times worse than really throwing up. When his stomach did manage to bring something, it burned through his whole body, mostly containing bile and the little water he had drunk earlier. 

When he was finished, he practically collapsed back into the couch, strings of saliva still hanging from his chin. Almost immediately breaking out in a coughing fit. Minho grabbed a tissue and started to clean him up.

“‘Went out my nose. :(“

“Here, blow.” Minho held the tissue to Han’s nose, who (all though he found it kinda awkward and gross to do so) did as commanded and blew. Minho didn’t seem to find it awkward at all. 

Once they had settled back down, Minho carried Jisung (who was only about half asleep and probably could have walked himself, but wanted to be carried, like a child.) bridal style back to bed. He went to exit the room to his own bed for the night but was stopped by a shrill sickly voice.

“Can you stay?”

Minho smirked, “Oh so you’re awake now.”

“Shhh, just come cuddle with me.”

Poor Channie gets food poisoning from some takeout he ordered and spends an evening hunched over a bucket, nauseous and burpy. Every now and then a bit of sick comes up his throat, but always goes back down which makes him feel sicker.

Maybe Felix stays with him, rubs his back, play with his curly hair, and talks to him in English to keep him calm when his nausea gets too much. Maybe Minho checks in every so often to see if he's been sick or is still queasy.

sorry this took so long, i didn’t have free moment for a mini fic 😅 it also kinda was more like a full length one anyway. Suprise!

~Spicing it Up~

Yet another late night spent working on music for the latest comeback, it was all Chan had grown to know. Which meant when his stomach growled at him angrily for food, he pulled out his phone and opened his door dash and clicked the place he usually gets from. But wait. He had that last night? Why not spice it up and try something new! He clicked off that restaurant and searched for something else. He found a small local takeout place and placed his order, before getting back to work.

-

Sometimes, spicing up your usual door dash is not the best idea, which Chan soon learned late that night once he returned to his dorm. It was maybe 1 AM, earlier than he usually would get home, but tonight he felt strangely uncomfortable after dinner in his office, and decided he could head home and finish up at the dorm. By the time he got there, he felt severely worse. His stomach was swirling annd full, he felt awful. He probably had over done it with the food, although he didn’t remember eating all that much of it. Must of just been extra filling. When he opened the door to the apartment, he was surprised to see Minho and Felix sitting on the couch.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Well we were watching a movie with Jisung.” Minho said sounding a little annoyed.

“But he got tired and went to bed, so we’re finishing up the movie ourselves before we head home to our place.” Felix cut in, being the ball of sunshine he is, there was not a hint of annoyance in his voice, in contrast to Minho.

“Mind if I join? I was gonna do so work but i’m not feeling it tonight and you guys (A/N- the urge to put y’all😭) are here anyway.”

“Of course we don’t mind!” Minho said, patting the cushion next to him.

Chan melted into the couch, exhausted.

“You okay Chris?” Felix said to him, noticing how he curled in on himself.

“Yeah. My stomach hurts a bit.” He responded, wrapping his arm around his stomach.

“Have you eaten?” Felix said, concerned.

“Yes. I think that’s the problem.”

Minho was trying to translate the English, but eventually gave up and watched the movie.

“Did you eat too much? What did you eat?” Felix asked, seemingly turning on his big brother mode that he would use if Olivia wasn’t feeling well, even though he is younger than Chan.

“I tried a new place tonight. I don’t remember eating a lot of it, but I must have.”

“Or maybe the new place simply isn’t agreeing with you.”

“I guess.”

They sat and watched the movie in silence for a while, until the silence was finally broken by Chan, still speaking in English, much to Minho’s annoyance since he was experiencing some FOMO from barely understanding the conversation. Couldn’t they just speak Korean for his sake.

“I’m gonna vomit.”

Vomit… what does that mean again? He’s gonna what? Minho couldn’t quite recall. Minho figured it was not good, seeing Felix’s eyes widen as he hurriedly stood up and rushed to get something as Chan put his head between his knees. Minho put two and two together that his hyung was nauseous, and placed a hand on Chan’s back, just as Felix returned with a bucket.

“It going to be be a-okay, Chan. Don’t worry. It will be over before you know it.” Felix stated reassuringly as he gave Chan the bucket. Felix instructed Chan to sit up, just as he ducked his head into the bucket with a retch. Nothing. He just hung there over the bucket salivating into the bucket as he stared at the bottom. The next retch came with some liquid but it didn’t want to come all the way up. It burned his throat and made him gag more, still unproductively. Minho stood to get him some water and things, as Felix quietly comforted him, his accent reminded him of home which helped him feel a little less miserable as the nausea was so very awful.

It took almost an hour for anything to really come up. And once it did, it brought up everything Chan had in him. It tore through him painfully, but once it was done, it was a huge relief. He could finally breathe. The nausea was becoming insufferable, he was just glad it was over, for now atleast.

“You did good, Chan” Minho said, in English, as he handed him the water bottle.

(because i am not korean, i cannot accurately describe their new years traditions. so for the sake of the fic and the other new years fics to come, they will celebrate with american traditions.)

December 31,  aka New Year’s eve. A day filled with celebrations and champagne. But this year, it will be celebrated with sleep and tylenol, because Beomgyu is running a fever. He’s sure of it. From the moment he woke up to turn down the temperature on the thermostat to find it was already at 70 degrees, he knew he was sick. Bummer. And on New Year’s Eve? How lame. He contemplated telling his members. On the one hand, they don’t have work anyway. But also, the group had been looking forward to attending the company’s New Year’s eve party. He decided they didn’t have to know. Besides, his fever is probably not even that high. If he can ignore the chills, hot flashes, fatigue, sweat dripping down his forehead and aches through his whole body, he’ll be fine. No biggy.

He popped a slice of toast into the toaster. He debated just going back to bed, but he didn’t want to be suspicious. He’s usually the early riser of the group, and now that the rest of the members are stumbling into the kitchen, it’s too late to go back. 

Taehyun took one look at Beomgyu, and knew he was sick. The paleness of his face streaked with hot pink cheeks made it oh so apparent the he had quite a fever. 

“Soobin, can you come here?” He hollered through the halls. Soobin, still rubbing sleep from his eyes followed the voice to the kitchen, stopping in the doorframe, “What is it-“,

“Shit Gyu, are you sick?”he interrupted himself upon the sight of his obviously sick dongsaeng.

“I- Uh..well…” he murmured, shocked that his members had been able to tell so easily. He felt a strong hand pressing on his forehead.

“Oh my god Beomgyu, you’re on fire! Not that I’m surprised, you look like you just ran a marathon!” Soobin exclaimed as he removed his hand which was now ever so slightly moist with forehead sweat. He turned to grab the thermometer only for Taehyun to shove it into his hands having already grabbed it. He poked it into Beongyu’s ears, and waited for the beep. 

Soobin’s eyes widened when the beep finally came, the thermometer read 102.9 degrees.  “Yup, that’s definitely a fever. Go back to bed, I’ll bring in some water and some medicine.” 

Beomgyu didn’t hesitate to get back under the warmth of his comforter.

By now, Yeonjun and Huening Kai had woken up too, and filled in on the situation. Meanwhile, Beomgyu was sound asleep in his bed room. After hours of him sleeping, Yeonjun went in to check on him. Upon entering the room, he was hit by the unmistakable stench of sweat. He tried not to let it show on his face as he tried not to breathe through his nose. 

“Gyu, can you wake up for just a minute so I can take your temperature again?”

Beomgyu made a noise of approval, and without opening his eyes even a crack, he turned over to let Yeonjun insert the thermometer. When the beep came this time, it was found that his temperature had only climbed to 103.3. “Oh god Beomgyu, if this gets any higher it could be dangerous. And it doesn’t seem like the medicine is working much.”

Beomgyu groaned, still refusing to peel open his eye lids. Yeonjun left the room, and Beomgyu hoped that he would stop pestering him about it, but returned moments later with a wet washcloth. He felt the cold relief on hushed forehead. The cool didn’t last that long as the heat radiating of his face easily warmed the washcloth. 

“Okay. I’m gonna come back in to check again in an hour alright?”

Beomgyu was practically asleep already before Yeonjun even finished his sentence.

When Yeonjun came back, he felt bad waking the sleeping boy once again, especially when he looked so adorable when sleeping. He tried to wiggle the thermometer into the boys ears without waking him, barely making it in. In the process, he was disgusted when he felt how the sheets were almost completely soaked in sweat. The thermometer beeped and read 103.7. Yeonjun was flabbergasted at the fever’s ability to continue to grow.

“Beomgyu? Do you think you can take a cool bath or something? Your fever is still rising and we have to get it down.”

He said to the still half asleep Beomgyu.

“But I’m already so cold..” He whined.

“The thermometer says other wise. Sorry. Unless you have a better idea? And while you’re in there I’ll wash your sheets, they’re getting kinda….gross.”

Beomgyu sighed, finally sitting up in his bed. His body ached, longing to lay back down, but he knew it was for the best. He glanced at the clock next tom him on his bed side table, reading the time. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the party??”

“Oh- nah. I don’t think we’re going.”

“Is it because of me? I don’t want to ruin New Year’s” Yeonjun could see Beomgyu’s expression become ridden with guilt.

“Maybe a little. But it’s okay really. It’s the same party every year anyway, nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“Are you sure? You guys can go, I can hold my own.”

“Not like this you can’t. Your fever is crazy. Besides, it will be nice spending New Years in a more relaxed fashion this year.”

Beomgyu accepted that his members would stay to take care of him, and stood to head off to take his bath. He immediately had to sit back down as dizziness washed over him. Yeonjun looked at him with a great deal of concern.

“Just.. dizzy.”

Yeonjun held his hand to hoist him back up and helped him off to the bathroom. Once we was settled in the bath for a bit, Yeonjun went off to throw Beomgyu’s bedding into the wash. 

By the time Beomgyu was done in the bath, the sheets were only just switching to the dryer.

“How bout you bring your pillow and grab one of those christmas blankets and lay on the couch for a bit, while your bedding is in the dryer atleast.”

Beomgyu didn’t care wear he was sleeping as long as he was sleeping. He wrapped himself in a blanket and hobbled to the couch. Kai was already sitting there, scrolling on instagram. He looked up and smiled at the boy burrito in front of him, scooting over to make a place for him. He gratefully layed down across the cushions, his feet hanging off the edge ever so slightly. Kai scooted Beomgyu’s head into his lap and ran his fingers through his wet hair. They stayed like that for the next couple of hours, waiting to bring in the new year. The rest of the group started to file into the room as the clock ticked closer to midnight. They didn’t have any champagne laying around so they poured some ginger ale, close enough. They tried to stay as quiet as they could as to not wake the sleeping Beomgyu beside them.

“ten… nine…. eight…. seven….”They whispered, “six…. five…. four…. three…. two…. one.”

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!!” they said, maybe a bit too loudly.

“Shhhh!” Soobin hissed.

They go quiet. But it’s still not silent, as fireworks have started to burst outside the window. Beomgyu started to stir, his hands instinctively moving to his ears. Kai, being the closest person to Beomgyu, noticed tears rolling down his face, probably the fever messing with his emotions.

“Guy, what’s the matter?”

“The fireworks hurt my head.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll be over soon?” he tried. But it was not helpful to calm the crying boy.

Taehyun shot up from his seat, dashing to his room, returning with his soundproof headphones in hand. He swiftly maneuvered them over Beomgyu’s ears.

“Better?”

No response.

“Guess they must be working.”Yeonjun giggled.

it could be taehyun or whoever you want to write 🙏

sounds like you want taehyun 😭💕 this was meant to be mini but i wanted to put an example of a time when the members get mad at sickie and don’t get mad ykwim

-

Taehyun fell into his place onstage for "Chasing that feeling" and waited for the music to begin. He felt like shit if he was being completely honest with himself. His body ached all throughout, and his head hurt like crazy and his stomach was churning.

He was both hot and cold at the same, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He just had to get through this song. That's it. Then he can be sick.

They're in the middle of a comeback and a comeback doesn't wait for a sick member, the sick member waits for the comeback. Just one song. He convinced himself he would make it.

As the music began, his muscle memory took over and he went through the motions of the dance as usual. He felt himself getting lost in the dance, listening MOA's cheers making him feel less and less ill as he performed. If there's one thing to make someone feel better, it's a crowd of thousands of fans screaming your name.

That moment of bliss was swiftly over when he felt his stomach cramp painfully. He glanced at Soobin, trying to get his attention without disturbing the performance, with no luck. Soobin had no idea of the younger's condition if he knew there was no way he would have allowed him to perform.

Taehyun tried to convince himself he could make it to the end of the song, that he would be fine just a little longer. He could no longer contain himself. He sprinted off stage as fast as he could. The moment he got backstage he was like a volcano, finally exploding after years of build up, as he projectile vomited on the floor. The moment staff noticed they shoved a trash can into his shaky hands and led him back to the green room to sit on the couch there. 

A few minutes later his members arrived in the room with him, and he was met with angry faces from Soobin and Yeonjun.

“What were you thinking?!? Running off stage like that, with no warning to us!?!” Soobin said, not quite yelling, but certainly raising his voice.

“You could have gotten hurt, or hurt one of us running through the formation mid dance!! What’s gotten in-“ Yeonjun was interrupted by quiet sob, taking a break from his anger to notice that Taehyun had started to cry, with Huening Kai and Beomgyu on either side of him trying to calm him down. As he cried, he pointed to a nearby trash can, which when picked up by Soobin, was found to be about half full with vomit.

“Oh Taehyunnie. I’m so sorry I got mad. I had no idea. I should have payed more attention.” Soobin said. When Yeonjun realized what had happened he said “Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

“Th-thought I could make it.”

“Clearly you couldn’t. You need to tell us these things before they end up like this. This could have-“ Yeonjun was interrupted again, this time by Soobin.  “Yeonjun. Everything you’re saying is very true. But this is not the time for that. We can have this conversation when he’s feeling better, okay?”

“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!