#request answer

Y/n was absolutely certain Azriel’s pacing footsteps must have indented the floor by now. She coughed as she turned on her other side in bed to face him.

“You have to see a healer. If you do not trust the ones here I will take you to my city, my court’s healer is-”

“Azriel, stop” she said softly, eyes pinned on his worried ones “This happens to humans, I’ve told you. This is the second time I’ve caught a cold this year”

“Second time? It’s the second time you’re sick this way, this year?” he abruptly stopped in the middle of the room, eyes nearly gauging out of his head.

She tried to giggle a little at his blatant display of shock, but she ended up sneezing in the middle of it. She reached for the nightstand but Azriel beat her to it, handing her a tissue as he came to a crouch in front of the bed.

He frowned as she blew her nose.

“You’re still warm” he pressed a hand to her forehead, his frown only deepening.

“Because I have a cold, Az. I’ll be fine, I promise”

Shadows swarmed around the bed, caressing her and twirling through her hair, as if unsure about her wellbeing, like their master.

She reached out a finger to his forehead, trying to smooth out the lines of his frown. A pained, reluctant smile appeared on Azriel’s face.

“I’m worried,” he sighed after she was done blowing her nose. He sat on the bed next to her, placing a hand on her cheek “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let something happen to you”

Her heart clenched. A rough cough wound up in her throat.

“There must be something I can do” he bit out, eyes heavy with emotion.

“Az, really I’ll be fine in a few days. I just need to rest”

With his hand stroking so softly at her cheek, she burrowed deeper into the bed, now fully coming to feel the deep-set pain in her bones.

“There’s one thing I’d want, though” she mumbled with her eyes closed.

Azriel’s finger stroked under her eye.

“Anything, sweetheart”

“Chicken broth always helps, but-”

“I’ll go cook you some” he jumped up at the opportunity.

“Azriel, no-” she sat up, eyes shooting open “I only said it because it always helps, but I meant that I would make myself some in the morning. You really don’t have to-”

“I want to. I want to help you”

“But it’s- it’s only a cold” another bout of coughing stopped her from speaking “You told me earlier that you have a mission to go to. I don’t want to keep you”

“None of that. I don’t care about any missions if you’re unwell”

“Azriel…” unexpected tears gathered on her waterline. Maybe it was the gentleness and care Azriel treated her with. The love. But that answer held so many questions, so many dangers.

She told herself it’s the sick-ridden exhaustion and illness that made her react like that.

Azriel only shushed her in reply and gently pushed her to lay back down.

“Try and rest, please. I’ll make you the soup and I’ll stay with you. You’ll be alright” he murmured, as if more to himself as he pulled the covers over her.

“But- your family will notice you’re gone, won’t they? Your High Lord?” she stressed “I really don’t want to keep you if it will cause problems for you”

“You could do no such thing. Ever,” he pressed a firm kiss to her hairline “Do not worry about me, hm? My only care right now is you getting better”

She found that she had no strength, and will, left in her to protest. Would it be so wrong to let herself be taken care of for once? Maybe the exhaustion was truly taking over her mind.

She didn’t notice as a stray shadow winded itself around her pillow. A guard in Azriel’s absence.

She felt another lingering kiss press to her hairline.

“Please, try and rest now. If not for yours then for my sake, at least”

She must’ve been dreaming when she heard him whisper three more words before leaving the room.

-

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His throat hurt, he was freezing and every minute or so he had to turn away to cough into his elbow. Even the CEO was throwing him worried glances but - like everybody else - refrained from speaking. It was after all well known that Seonghwa did not get sick. Even if he was coughing and probably running a fever and feeling awful, he was not sick.

He refused to be.

Hongjoong had argued with him over him coming into work that morning but even he had had to admit defeat. San and/or Mingi must have snitched on him. Top Ten anime betrayals.

Seonghwa had long given up on paying attention to what the meeting was about. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he had even known in the first place. He was more preoccupied with sipping on his tea and not spitting out the cough drop in his mouth every time he had to cough.

It hurt. It really hurt to cough - not just in his throat but also in his chest. Something really must have it out for him. Karma, he would have called it but he couldn’t recall doing anything that deserved this.

Even in Yunho’s borrowed hoodie (Seonghwa had had to grudgingly accept it earlier in the car because he had been so cold he was sure his fingers were about to fall off) he was still shivering and trembling. He sighed. 

God, he should not have done that. Another coughing fit took hold of him, causing his whole body to shake with the force of it. It was more violent than before and he turned away so he wouldn’t have to look at the other people in the room. His eyes watered and he couldn’t fucking stop. His throat was being shredded, at least it felt like it. Vaguely he was aware of the CEO stopping to talk and a worried hand on his back but all he could focus on was trying to catch his breath. His chest felt awfully tight.

“Hwa? Hwa?”, a voice came through the fog in his head and he glanced with eyes tearing up at his captain. 

“I’m fine”, Seonghwa gasped, finally able to draw a breath again, “I’m okay.”

“Why don’t you go home, Seonghwa-yah?”, the CEO asked gently, a bit of pity in his voice. Seonghwa hated it. He did not want to be pitied. He was an adult in his mid-twenties and the oldest of the group. He didn’t get to get sick. There were seven dongsaengs relying on him.

“I’m sorry for the interruption, abeoji”, Seonghwa apologized, “I’m fine. Continue, please.”

The CEO sighed and nodded, then continued his speech.

⌛

The next fifteen minutes Seonghwa painfully tried to suppress his coughs with more or less success. None of the managers or executives were able to meet his gaze though Seonghwa knew he must look unfocused and tired. His members were throwing him concerned glances which he ignored. Mingi even had a hand on Seonghwa’s back, soothingly running his huge palm up and down over Seonghwa’s spine. While he normally would have hated the attention from a dongsaeng when sick he couldn’t deny it felt nice. He glared at Hongjoong before the captain could even bring attention to it.

But even despite Mingi’s efforts Seonghwa was still sick, even if he didn’t want to admit it. His chest was burning like it was on fire and he constantly had to focus on keeping his breathing even. But he succeeded in not coughing again.

Until he didn’t succeed anymore.

He lost his focus on his breathing for just a second but it was enough. Seonghwa pitched forward, not even having time to turn around before the next fit took hold. He buried his face in his elbow and coughed. It felt like the eruption of a long dormant volcano, burning, hot and painful.

His mouth filled with something and he spat out some disgusting yellowish mucus into the sleeve of Yunho’s hoodie. He’d have to apologize to the other later. For now, he needed to leave, he didn’t want to disturb the meeting any further.

“Excuse me”, Seonghwa mumbled and pushed his chair, which was only saved from clattering to the floor by Hongjoong, back. He stumbled to his feet and rushed out of the room. He couldn’t stay in there, making them watch again and have them worry. It had been embarrassingly enough the first time.

But staying out in the public hallway was as bad as the meeting room, so Seonghwa hurried in the direction of the bathrooms, trying not to faint as his vision turned black from the lack of air and the need to cough again. He didn’t make it far until he stumbled, crashing into a wall and likely bruising his shoulder. It hurt. His throat hurt. His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe properly. He was dizzy and his vision was spotty. 

With a frustrated yell, pulling at his hair, he gave up and sunk to his knees. Well, he tried. 

Suddenly a hand was at his elbow, the same spot he had spat the mucus into but the person didn’t seem to care at all. 

“Hyung? Hyungie?”, a frightened but at the same time determined voice asked, “please don’t faint on me.”

Seonghwa coughed again, blinking back tears and stared up at his savior.

Mingi?

It wasn’t as unexpected as his first instinct had him believe, Seonghwa supposed. Mingi, while easily scared and sometimes very much a maknae, always had been very in tune with Seonghwa’s health. And his easy-going nature and his puppy eyes never failed to make Seonghwa feel bad for pushing him away.

“Hyung?”, Mingi repeated, a bit more frantic now. Right, he hadn’t replied.

“I’m okay, Mingi-yah. Not gonna pass out”, Seonghwa reassured. Mingi, however, didn’t look reassured.

“Seonghwa-hyung, you’re clearly sick and not feeling well. I could hear you coughing all night. So could San. Stop pretending, please. We’re so worried”, Mingi whispered, a bit angrily.

Seonghwa breathed out and nodded. He really had no foundation to build his arguments on. But breathing - breathing of all things - triggered another coughing fit. He doubled over and gasped: “Mingi, bathroom. Please.”

There was no way he could hold back coughing anymore and he did not want to be the main attraction of a show in the middle of a KQ hallway. Mingi seemed to understand and immediately began supporting his hyung the last meters to sanctuary.

As soon as Mingi had shouldered open the door Seonghwa tumbled towards the sinks, bracing himself on the porcelaine and coughed. His long hair fell into his face but he couldn’t care less. All he could focus on was the burning.

He couldn’t do anything to stop the torture, his throat and chest working against him. He coughed over and over again, the only thing keeping him from falling forward and bashing his head in the sink was Mingi’s hands on his shoulders. Seonghwa tried to focus on that, the feeling of somebody being there while he felt like he was suffocating.

It was minutes of coughing without break and Seonghwa was starting to feel faint again. He was getting light-headed from lack of air and his vision grew spotty. Still his body didn’t have mercy.

It was the opposite really. Just as Seonghwa felt like maybe he could stop soon, he suddenly tasted sour bile in his throat and with the next cough a small amount of his stomach contents came up, splattering onto the white surface.

Seonghwa didn’t have the capacity to feel shocked or disgusted, despite his hair taking a hit. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and pray for death, as another cough triggered a new wave of vomit. 

Mingi muttered what sounded suspiciously like a curse and let go of him. Seonghwa whimpered. He didn’t want to be alone now, though he knew he was disgusting. 

“It’s okay, hyung, I got you”, Mingi soothed and then his hands gathered Seonghwa’s hair, uncaring of its state and bundled it up at the back of his neck. Once he could hold it with one hand, he placed his other on Seonghwa’s back and rubbed gentle circles on it.

It was probably the nicest thing Seonghwa had ever felt. It didn’t matter that the coughing made him throw up more and more, it didn’t matter that his knees were shaking, it didn’t matter that everything hurt. The only thing that mattered was Mingi holding him through it all.

⌛

And then it was over. He hadn’t even thought it possible anymore, thought he was forever trapped in limbo between breathlessness and pain. But finally the coughing stopped. 

His arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself up and just as they buckled he managed to shove himself backwards, trusting his dongsaeng to catch him. Mingi did. Of course, he did. It was like he had expected it: He wrapped his arms around Seonghwa’s waist and guided him to the floor.

Seonghwa shivered as he came in contact with the cold tiles and yet it was a relief, the coolness against his fevered skin. 

“Oh, hyung”, Mingi mumbled as he knelt down in front of Seonghwa. He was holding some paper towels and gently began wiping at the eldest’s face. Tears, snot and traces of vomit were easily wiped away, leaving a red-faced, flushed and exhausted hyung in its wake.

“I don’t feel good, Mingi-yah”, Seonghwa whispered brokenly. He hated to admit it but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot, salty tears spilled down his face and the only thing preventing him from bursting into sobs was that his body was so tired it physically couldn’t. His strength was fading so quickly he wouldn’t even be surprised if he passed out.

Seonghwa felt humiliated, exhausted and so, so sick.  His head was pulsing, his chest aching and his muscles were sore. He just wanted to go home, take some medication and sleep. 

Mingi, seemingly sensing how close his hyung was to breaking, carefully gathered him in his arms and Seonghwa buried his face in his neck. Warm hands ran down his spine and never before had Seonghwa been so grateful that Mingi - despite his personality - was so tall. He felt … protected in a way he hadn’t for a long time.

“Hyung, let me call a manager, okay? We can go to the doctor, get you some meds and then you can sleep all you want, hm?”

Exhaustedly, Seonghwa nodded, not removing himself from the younger.

“Tell Yunho I’m sorry for ruining his hoodie”, he mumbled.

“Yunho cares more about your health than his hoodie, hyung”, Mingi said gently and pressed a kiss against Seonghwa’s hair.

Within seconds Mingi had his phone in his hand and was talking into it softly. Seonghwa didn’t care to listen, he just closed his eyes and drifted.

⌛

Seonghwa woke up to a manager coming into the bathroom and helping Mingi lift him into his arms. He let his eyes flutter close again and just laid his head against Mingi’s shoulder.

The doctor’s visit passed in a blurr. There were tests and questions but in the end Seonghwa could barely puzzle together what had happened in detail. He only knew that a larger hand never let go of his.

Once back at the dorm Seonghwa was dosed up with medication and a warm, fuzzy blanket was pulled over him. A solid weight against his back held onto him and Seonghwa let himself drift.

Maybe … maybe being vulnerable wasn’t so bad.

Notes: I am having an awful cold at the moment so I feel the anon requester and Seonghwa so hard at the moment. My voice is gone and my friends keep laughing at me. Fair, though.