The makeup artist pressed a cool sponge against Lee Know’s cheek, but the relief was fleeting. His skin burned, his head throbbed, and no amount of powder could hide the feverish flush that kept creeping up his neck. He swallowed hard, but even that hurt.
The director’s voice cut through the studio:
“Alright, let’s reset for another take. Energy up, everyone!”
Lee Know let out a breath that was more of a cough, and then straightened his shoulders. He’d done this countless times before. Push through, smile, dance sharp, keep going. But today his body wasn’t cooperating. His limbs felt heavy, his head foggy, and no amount of professionalism could keep him from stumbling just slightly on one move.
The word was merciful. As soon as the music faded, Lee Know turned automatically, scanning the room until his gaze found Han.
Han sat cross-legged on a spare prop box, munching on something from a small bag. His eyes flicked up instantly, sharp and perceptive as always. He tilted his head, silently asking, You okay?
Lee Know trudged toward him, tugging off his stage jacket and fanning himself weakly. “I’m dying,” he muttered, collapsing onto the box beside Han.
Han pulled a water bottle from the floor, twisting off the cap before handing it over. “Drink,” he said simply. Lee Know accepted it without argument, sipping gratefully. “My throat feels like sandpaper.”
Han rummaged in his pocket, producing a small roll of throat lozenges. He shook one into his palm and pressed it into Lee Know’s hand like it was contraband.
Lee Know blinked at him. “You’ve been holding out on me?” Han smirked. “I plan ahead. Someone has to keep you functional.”
Lee Know popped the lozenge into his mouth, the menthol sting both soothing and startling. “Thanks,” he murmured, voice softer than usual.
Han leaned back against the wall, studying him. He patted his lap, and Lee Know graciously laid his head down. Han could feel the heat coming off of Lee Know's head as the older struggled a bit to get comfy. “You should’ve stayed home. You look miserable.” Han said with concern as he brushed the damp strands of hair off his hyung's forehead.
“They need all of us for the video,” Lee Know said, rolling his eyes. “Mm,” Han hummed, unconvinced. “I think the world would survive one day without you spinning in circles.”
Lee Know shoved his shoulder weakly, but the playful gesture faded as another cough tore through him. He sat up and slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Without a word, Han reached over, tugged at the hood of Lee Know’s sweater, and pulled it up loosely over his head. A small shield from the glaring lights, a small act of kindness. Lee Know didn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
The hours dragged on. Between takes, Lee Know’s energy dwindled further. The group cheered each other on, but Han never let his attention drift too far.
When the stylists reapplied Lee Know’s makeup, Han appeared quietly at his side, holding another bottle of water as Lee Know coughed harshly into his elbow.
When Lee Know sank onto a chair during a short break, Han dropped into the seat beside him and leaned close enough to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just one more set.”
When Lee Know’s head lolled back against the wall, eyes half-shut, Han slid his phone into his hands, screen already lit with a video of kittens playing. “Emergency morale boost.”
Lee Know blinked at the tiny animals tumbling across the screen, and despite himself, he let out a hoarse laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” Han replied.
By the time the director finally called it a wrap, Lee Know was swaying on his feet. The adrenaline that had carried him through the last shot drained instantly, leaving only exhaustion behind. Harsh coughs wracked his tired body, and he barely noticed when Han slipped an arm around his shoulders, steadying him.
“Come on, hyung,” Han said gently, guiding him toward the van. “Bedtime.”
Lee Know groaned, “I still have to change—”
“I’ll get your bag,” Han interrupted firmly. “You’re not lifting a finger.”
They reached the van, and Han nudged Lee Know into the seat first. When Lee Know leaned against the window, eyes closing, Han draped his own hoodie over him like a blanket.
Lee Know mumbled something that was halfway between “thank you” and “don’t fuss,” but his voice was so low it barely counted.
Han just smiled, tucking the fabric around him. “Sleep. I’ve got you covered.”
And for the first time all day, Lee Know didn’t fight it. He let himself sink into the quiet, comforted by the simple certainty that Han was right there.
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