Languages: Korean, English, Japanese (conversational), Vietnamese (basic), Mandarin (basic)
I do have a AO3 but I haven’t posted in a lifetime
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I would love to be able to write on here as well, so please leave a request and I will try my best to fulfill it.
Groups I will write quicker for:
BTS
TOMORROW X TOGETHER
SKZ
I listen to a lot of groups but know these three more, and I feel I’d be able to write better for them, but if you request a different group, I’ll do my research and try my best ㅠㅡㅠ
Things I’m comfortable writing:
Whump
Emeto
Snz
Sickfics
Angst
Hurt/Comfort
Things I’m not comfortable writing:
Mpreg
Scat
Omorashi
Smut
x reader
*If there’s anything not in these lists and you want to request, just tell me and I’ll let you know if it’s okay or not!*
Also, requests may take a few weeks—I am still taking classes and have a part time job and home things to take care of as well.
Thank you and feel free to request!
What my username is: So some people asked and it’s actually my favorite Love Live! character’s name (Setsuna) and then i reversed the letters LOL
A/N: wrote this in about 30 minutes lol but I can’t stop looking at that cutie jikook picture 🤭
Jungkook doesn’t waste any time getting comfortable on the plane. He’s sleepy, and almost sad about the fact that the flight is only two and a half hours long. He could use a much, much longer nap, but he’ll settle for two and a half hours.
There’s a heavy weight to his limbs that makes him feel like he’s glued to the chair. Jungkook had reclined it as soon as the plane took off, but now he’s just kind of stuck like that, staring up at the plane’s ceiling as he starts to drift off to sleep, but not quite fully there yet. He’s never actually regretted staying up too late before, but this might be the closest he’s come to that– he’s too tired to even reach for his phone, which means he can't turn on his music, and that’s kind of a bummer.
As he reaches a state of almost-slumber, someone crawls into his lap.
Jimin.
Jungkook can recognize his scent and his weight, even in a state of partial consciousness.
Jimin is quiet. And warm. Too warm, Jungkook decides as Jimin lies down on top of him, face nuzzling into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.
But still, Jungkook isn’t going to move. Nor can he. He’s too heavy, and now Jimin is a heavy, warm weight on top of him.
Somewhere nearby, he can hear Hoseok’s cooing voice: Look at those two, I have to take a picture!
Jungkook is too sleepy to comprehend what Hoseok is talking about.
At least Jimin smells nice. It’s the last thing Jungkook is aware of as he finally falls asleep.
*
“...we’re going to land soon.”
Jungkook blinks awake to the sound of Seokjin’s voice. “Huh?”
“Jungkookie? You awake? We’re going to land soon.”
Sniffling, Jungkook tries to make his eyes focus on Seokjin’s face. He’s hot all over, thanks to Jimn’s body covering every inch of him. It’s comfortable, but in a too-hot sort of way.
“Too hot,” he croaks out, knowing Seokjin will understand.
Seokjin does not understand. “We’re going to land soon, Jungkookie,” he repeats, carding his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. “You guys need to sit upright.”
Raising an eyebrow, Seokjin tilts his head to one side. “What?”
“Jimin-hyung is…too hot.”
Jungkook isn’t sure why his tongue feels too big in his mouth. He needs water, probably, and about ten more hours of sleep.
“Jimin is too hot?” Seokjin echoes, moving his hands down to Jimin’s face. When his palm slides across Jimin’s forehead, he freezes. “Oh.”
Jungkook sniffles. In the next breath, he feels a sneeze sneak up on him, and turns his head to the side to let it out.
“Oh,” Seokjin says.
“Bless you,” Hoseok calls out from his seat.
Jimin, startled awake by Jungkook’s sneeze, groans softly and sits up halfway. “Kookie?”
“Hey.” Seokjin crouches down and takes Jimin’s flushed face in his hands. “You’re awake.” He speaks softly, even though they’re all awake now. “How are you feeling?”
At first, Jimin seems to hear him, but then his brows furrow and he tries to lie back down, face seeking out the crook of Jungkook’s neck again.
“Ohh, nope.” Seokjin stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to get up. You need to sit in your own chair for landing.”
Jimin groans again.
Seokjin clears his throat. “Joon-ah?”
Namjoon is at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“I think these two decided to get sick on us,” Seokjin chuckles, like he’s telling Namjoon a funny story instead of bad news.
At that, Jimin’s head lifts up. “Wha’?”
“I think you’re running a fever, Jimi–”
“Kookie is sick?” Jimin asks, turning to look at Jungkook’s face.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Seokjin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Namjoon, I think we’re going to need med check-ups for them both after we land. They’re both really warm and Jungkook is–”
Jungkook sneezes, this time into Jimin’s chest.
There’s a moment of silence. Jungkook breaks it by sniffling wetly into Jimin’s shirt.
“That. Jungkook is doing that,” Seokjin finishes. “If you could just inform the staff, I’ll get them ready for landing.”
Namjoon nods, silent as he walks toward the front of the plane.
Seokjin tugs on Jimin’s shoulder until he sits up. “Come on, Jiminie. You need to sit down in your seat and buckle up. We’re going to be landing soon.”
At Jimin’s hesitation, Seokjin tries another tactic.
“Will you help Jungkook sit up and make sure he’s buckled in?”
Finally, Jimin springs into action– albeit clumsy, stumbling action, weighted down by fever and exhaustion as he uses an extremely hands-on approach to get Jungkook’s seat upright. Seokjin isn’t sure if Jimin is clinging so much to Jungkook because he’s not feeling well, or if it’s because he now knows Jungkook isn’t feeling well, but either way it's a struggle to separate them and get Jimin back in his own seat.
Once he’s there, Seokjin hands him a bottle of water. He brings one to Jungkook, too, uncapping it for him so he can drink.
“Hyung.”
Seokjin turns around. Yoongi is watching him from across the plane.
“Time to buckle in for landing,” Yoongi tells him.
Seokjin smiles. He takes his seat next to Yoongi and buckles his seatbelt. “They both have fevers, I think.”
Frowning, Yoongi looks at Jimin, then at Jungkook. “Well, that sucks. Do they need medicine? I have–”
“A whole pharmacy in your carry-on,” Seokjin finishes for him, reaching over to pat Yoongi’s thigh. “We can figure that out after we land.”
Summary: Seven members all living together under one roof means everything is multiplied; there are seven schedules to manage, seven people to split chores and cook meals, seven times the chaos, and seven sets of helping hands.
Unfortunately, it also means seven chances to catch the same cold that turns one sick day into an entire sick week.
A/N: This fic is commission #2/3 for my very wonderful, very lovely, very patient friend. (next one coming soon?!?)
This time is no different. Jungkook spends one full weekend doing photoshoots and attending a movie premiere and having back-to-back dinners with his friends. He comes home late in the morning on Sunday and he’s exhausted– from socializing, from working, from not sleeping in his own bed for two nights in a row.
Seokjin clocks it right away, within thirty minutes of him stepping through the front door.
“You didn’t sleep,” he says, a statement rather than a question, cupping Jungkook’s cheek with a frown when he shuffles into the kitchen for a snack. “You’re gonna get sick, if you’re not already.”
“I’m not already sick,” Jungkook mumbles around a yawn. “Just tired.”
“I’ll make you something warm.”
Jungkook sniffs. “I was gonna make myself some ramen…”
“I’ll make you ramen, then. Go change into something comfy.”
Something comfy, to Seokjin, means pajamas.
To Jungkook, it’s his biggest sweatshirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants.
Seokjin eyes Jungkook’s bottom drawer of his dresser, full of unworn pajama sets, with a pout as he sets a bowl of ramen down on the nightstand.
“Take it easy today, Jungkookie. You’ve worked hard this weekend. Call hyung if you need anything, okay?”
“Thank you, Hyung.”
With a fond smile, Seokjin kisses the top of Jungkook’s head and leaves him to rest.
Monday
After sleeping for a good chunk of the day on Sunday, Jungkook goes to bed at 8:30 p.m. with a sore throat, sleeps all the way until 9:17 a.m. the next morning, and wakes up with a full-blown cold.
He drags himself to the bathroom, standing in front of the sink in a daze for a few minutes before he works up the will to rummage around in the medicine cabinet for a box of DayQuil. It takes him entirely too long– another couple of minutes, maybe– to punch the two pills out from their blister pack and swallow them down with a mouthful of water from the sink. His hands are shaky and he feels too slow, too sleepy.
“Hey,” Seokjin says from outside of the half-open door while Jungkook uses the bathroom and washes his hands. “You up for the day? Or going back to sleep?”
It takes a moment for Jungkook to reply. He dries his hands in a hurry and then scrambles for the tissue box on the counter, sniffling against a suddenly runny nose.
“Think I slept too long,” he finally croaks out from behind his tissue. “I feel gross.”
Seokjin eyes the box of medicine on the counter. “You probably need more sleep,” he counters. “You are sick, then?”
Jungkook nods sadly and pulls out another handful of tissues.
“Just take the whole box if you need it,” Seokjin snorts. “Go back to bed. I’ll bring you something to eat in a bit.”
By the time Seokjin appears in Jungkook’s bedroom doorway with a plate of toast and a mug of tea, Jungkook is asleep again, flat on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow.
“He’s going to get us all sick,” Seokjin mutters to himself, leaving the food and retreating with a sigh and a plan to go shopping at the pharmacy later.
Seokjin stops in front of the dry-erase calendar hanging in the kitchen next. He’s the self-designated keeper of their schedules and he likes to keep track of everything in one place. Luckily, this week isn’t the busiest they’ve ever had, but with Jungkook sick today he’ll have to cancel a meeting that’s scheduled for the afternoon.
Erasing the meeting from the calendar, Seokjin also notices that Jungkook has added his little gym magnets to every day this week. He gathers them up and returns them to their allotted whiteboard-parking-spot along with the others. Then, he grabs the blue marker– blue for chores– and adds grocery shopping to today.
“Huh?” Taehyung’s voice is whiney as he appears out of nowhere and presses himself against Seokjin’s back. “I don’t wanna go grocery shopping today, I just went!”
“I’ll do this trip,” Seokjin chuckles, capping the dry-erase marker and returning it to its basket. “Jungkook has a cold so I need to pick up a few things.”
“Jungkookie has a cold?” Jimin gasps, never far from Taehyung’s side. He shuffles up behind Seokjin and surveys the calendar. “I should go check on him and see if he needs anything.”
Seokjin hooks an arm around Jimin’s waist before he can get far. “He’s resting. You can come with me to the store.”
Taehyung starts backing away. “Well, I better get started on those emails…”
He’s gone before Seokjin can turn around.
Jimin, however, looks more than eager to join Seokjin on a shopping trip. “Did you already make a list, Hyung?”
Seokjin pulls out his phone and shows Jimin his running notes, currently at eleven items and counting. “I always have a list, Jiminie.”
*
“I brought you another blanket,” Jimin whispers from the doorway, trying to determine if Jungkook is awake.
It’s late afternoon, and though the sun is bright outside, Jungkook’s room is cloaked in darkness, courtesy of his blackout curtains.
Jungkook coughs a few times and shifts restlessly in his bed. “Min?”
Jimin is across the room in a second, spreading the blanket out over Jungkook. He tucks it around his shoulders, then untucks it so he can climb into bed next to him.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, smoothing his palm across Jungkook’s forehead.
Though he’s clearly feeling miserable, Jungkook doesn’t complain. He just turns onto his side and presses his face into Jimin’s shoulder, coughing softly into his shirt.
The door creaks the rest of the way open, and Seokjin appears holding another blanket. “Oh,” he murmurs in surprise when he sees Jimin and Jungkook already cuddling in the bed. “Does Jungkookie need a blanket?”
Jimin shakes his head and answers for Jungkook. “No, I just brought him one.”
Seokjin carries the blanket over anyway, folding it up and draping it over the back of Jungkook’s desk chair. Then, he cleans up the small mess of used tissues and empty water bottles and prepares Jungkook’s next dose of medicine.
“I can make sure he takes that,” Jimin offers. “What time?”
Jimin has been Seokjin’s shadow all day, helping him care for Jungkook and only leaving his side to cuddle with the sick maknae. It makes Seokjin smile to see how attentive Jimin has been to Jungkook’s needs. As he watches, Jimin tugs the blanket higher over Jungkook’s shoulders and leans over to kiss his temple; Jungkook, having already drifted back to sleep, doesn’t even stir.
“He can take it any time now,” Seokjin finally replies after checking the time. “Whenever he wakes up next.”
“Got it, Hyung!” Jimin whispers.
Seokjin finishes cleaning up. He retrieves two new bottles of water to set on the nightstand for both Jimin and Jungkook, then presses kisses to the tops of their heads before leaving and closing the door quietly behind him.
*
In the evening, Seokjin makes a full family dinner and starts laying it out on the table in front of a half-family of only three.
“Where are they all?” he mutters to himself, already starting down the hall.
He finds Jimin and Taehyung both in bed with Jungkook, curled around either side of him. Both of them are sleeping, but Jungkook is awake. He sneezes once– uncovered, unbothered– and then gives a soupy sniffle as he looks over at Seokjin.
It takes him clearing his throat three times before he can speak. “Hi.”
“Hi. How are you feeling?” Seokjin asks, hands on his hips. “Did you run out of tissues?”
Jungkook sneezes again and shrugs one shoulder.
Seokjin spots the box of tissues on the floor. It’s one of eight new boxes that he and Jimin picked up at the store earlier in the day. Still completely full.
As Seokjin sighs and bends to pick it up, Jimin shifts, his face moving closer to Jungkook’s until he’s only centimeters away from the germ zone.
Before Seokjin can act, two things happen at once: Jungkook inhales sharply, gearing up for another sneeze, and Jimin’s hand flies up, somehow already armed with a tissue that he cups over Jungkook’s mouth and nose just in time.
“Bless’ya, Kookie,” Jimin murmurs, still appearing to be half-asleep.
Jungkook sniffles and nuzzles into the tissue. “Thanks.”
“This isn’t going to end well for any of us,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.
There’s nothing that can be done about it now, though. Seokjin has already rescheduled tomorrow’s recording session for Jungkook; he might as well do the same for Jimin and Taehyung.
In his sleep, Taehyung coughs once, then rolls over onto his back, and Seokjin finds himself sighing yet again.
“I’ll bring you three dinner in a moment. You can eat in here.”
“M’kay, Hyung,” Jungkook croaks. “Thanks.”
*
Neither Jimin nor Taehyung are willing to leave Jungkook’s bed after they eat. Jungkook seems content to have the company, so Seokjin doesn’t push it too hard, though he does remind them that they’re setting themselves up for quite a few sick days.
“M’not gonna get sick, Hyung,” Taehyung grumbles in response, uncharacteristically prickly. His voice is already walking the line of hoarseness.
Seokjin is sure to leave extra water for the three of them while he waits for the kettle to heat up in the kitchen.
“At least try to take care of your voices,” he urges, turning on Jungkook’s humidifier. “I’ll bring you tea in a minute. Any other requests?”
Taehyung shakes his head with a frown, Jimin blinks sleepily up at him and doesn’t seem to realize he’s being asked a question, and Jungkook requests a long list of snacks and items that has Seokjin regretting asking.
“No problem, Kookie,” he says anyway, plastering a smile on his face. “You just stay here and rest. Be right back.”
Tuesday
Sure enough, both Jimin and Taehyung wake up on Tuesday morning with sore throats.
Somehow, a cold is never a simple thing in their house– and certainly not when three of them have colds all at the same time.
“My poor sick babies,” Seokjin tuts as he doles out doses of medicine to Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.
“You’re all sick?” Namjoon asks from the doorway, getting the update in real time. “Wasn’t it just Kook yesterday?”
“They’re sharing,” Seokjin sighs.
Namjoon takes a step back. “How generous.”
Seokjin does a quick hand-gauged temperature check on the three sick maknaes’ foreheads, then starts gathering used tissues and cough drop wrappers and empty water bottles into a trash can.
“Yoongi is making breakfast. Do you three want to eat in bed or come out to the living room?”
Jungkook, silent until now, presses his face against the side of Taehyung’s neck with a soft groan. “Don’t wanna eat,” he whines, voice thick with congestion.
“That’s not a good sign,” Namjoon mutters from the doorway.
Jimin gently pats Jungkook on the chest, making eye contact with Taehyung for a moment before he turns to Seokjin.
“We’ll eat in the living room.”
Namjoon goes ahead of them to prepare the living room, gathering up blankets and moving tissue boxes before he turns on the TV.
They settle on the couch, with Jungkook in the middle, tucking themselves under blankets. Yoongi brings three bowls of egg juk and three glasses of orange juice on a tray.
“Thank you, Hyung,” Taehyung says, sipping on his orange juice.
“Thank you, Hyung,” Jimin echoes, cradling his bowl to his chest.
Jungkook scrunches up his nose, still not feeling hungry. “Thank you, Hyung,” he pouts, trying to remain polite. “Wish I could smell it.”
“It smells really good,” Taehyung confirms, grinning up at Yoongi.
Hoseok appears a moment later carrying three steaming mugs. “Honey only for Tae,” he says, setting the first one down on the coffee table. “Lemon only for Jiminie. And, honey with lemon for Kookie.”
“Thank you, Hyung,” Taehyung says hoarsely. “You’re the best.”
“Thank you, Hyung,” Jimin echoes.
Jungkook frowns at the mug– he hates tea– but picks it up regardless. “Thank you, Hyung.”
“Enjoy your breakfast,” Hoseok grins. “Let hyungs know if you need anything.”
After receiving three nods of confirmation, the four eldest move to the kitchen table to eat.
“Looks like I’m taking a few more sick days,” Seokjin comments, eyeing the calendar. He’ll need to erase a few things, reschedule a few more things.
“I can’t believe all three babies are sick at the same time,” Hoseok says, glancing toward the living room.
“I can,” Yoongi snorts. “It’s only a matter of time before–”
“Don’t say it,” Namjoon stops him.
They all know it’s true, though; it’s not a matter of if, but when, the rest of them will come down with the same cold that’s currently plaguing their three youngest.
Wednesday
Wednesday morning brings rain, and an atmosphere inside the house that’s nearly as gloomy as the weather.
Seokjin wakes to the distant sound of coughing. And sneezing. Lots of it, from multiple people. A whole house full of sick people. For a moment, he doesn’t want to get out of bed, but after a few more minutes he forces himself to get up, sluggishly shoving his covers aside.
He catches Hoseok coming out of the shower, coughing into his fist as his wet hair drips onto his shoulders.
“That was you coughing?” Seokjin asks, his stomach sinking.
“Huh?” Hoseok frowns. “No, I was just clearing my throat.”
Seokjin fixes him with a look, but Hoseok dodges him and calls over his shoulder, “Dance practice is in thirty minutes, Hyung! Better hurry and get dressed.”
Dance practice. Seokjin makes a U-turn and heads to the kitchen so he can check the calendar. Sure enough, there’s a dance practice scheduled for today, but he’s been all mixed up with all of the cancellations on their calendar and forgot about it.
By the time Seokjin gets ready for practice, it’s just about time to leave. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon are already waiting by the front door, but Seokjin takes one more minute to stop by Jungkook’s room. The three maknaes are still asleep in Jungkook’s bed, same as they had been before Seokjin got dressed, but he can’t help needing to see with his own eyes that they’re resting peacefully and not in immediate need of anything.
“How are they doing?” Yoongi asks him when he finally makes it back out to put his shoes on.
“Resting. They’re on the mend, hopefully. I’m sure by the time we’re back from practice, the three of them will be up and messing around with their usual energy.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Hoseok agrees, squeezing Seokjin’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go dance your worries away!”
Curled up on the couch in front of him, Taehyung sniffles pitifully. “But I feel really cold.”
Pressing the back of his hand to Taehyung’s forehead, Seokjin calls over his shoulder, “Yoon?”
Yoongi appears just moments later, coming to stand behind Seokjin with a questioning hum.
“Does Tae feel hot to you?” Seokjin guides Yoongi’s hand to Taehyung’s forehead, eyes wide with renewed worry.
Yoongi feels Taehyung’s flushed face, sliding his hand first to his cheek and then to the back of his neck.
“He still has what Jungkook and Jimin have,” Yoongi replies calmly. “Just a cold. And he might have a low-grade fever. Nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll get the thermometer,” Seokjin says anyway, hurrying off to the bathroom. “What if it’s the flu?”
“Is it bad?” Taehyung asks quietly, looking up at Yoongi with watery eyes.
Yoongi chuckles. “No, baby. Don’t let Seokjin-hyung worry you. You always get a bit of fever when you’re sick, hmm?”
Taehyung nods, though he still looks a bit unsure.
When Seokjin returns with a thermometer, Hoseok is with him, concerned eyes zeroing in on Taehyung’s shivering form.
“How are you feeling, TaeTae?” Hoseok asks, dropping down onto the couch next to him while Seokjin crouches back in front of Taehyung.
“I feel gross.” Taehyung clears his throat and swipes at the sweat on his forehead. “Need a shower…w-wait, I need a tissue first.” He curls forward, eyes squeezing shut, and lets out a thunderous sneeze into his hoodie sleeve.
Hoseok grabs the box of tissues from the coffee table for him. “Bless you! Let hyung take your temperature real quick and then you can take a nice warm shower.”
Seokjin waits for Taehyung to blow his nose and then slides the thermometer under his tongue.
“Joon is at the art exhibition,” Hoseok murmurs to Yoongi as they watch Seokjin fret. “He’s stopping back by the company afterward to update them on our sickies. We’ll have to do tomorrow’s dance practice without them too.”
“I figured as much,” Yoongi sighs. “We’re lucky those three already have the choreo down so well.”
“Let’s take it one more time, just to be sure,” Seokjin says, squinting at the thermometer reading.
“It’s not even 38°C, Hyung,” Yoongi interrupts before he can put the thermometer back into Taehyung’s mouth. “Looks like he’ll be fine with a little Ibuprofen.”
Seokjin looks at Yoongi, then at Hoseok, and then back at Taehyung. “Okay. Right. Fine.”
Yoongi pulls Seokjin up off the floor, his hands gentle on his back. “I made lunch,” he says, softly, as if he’s trying not to startle his hyung. “Go get a drink of water and sit down at the table.”
There’s a moment of hesitation, and Yoongi just waits patiently, his expression neutral and his hand moving to Seokjin’s elbow. Then, Seokjin nods, and he lets Yoongi guide him away from the couch, both of them pretending like they can’t hear Hoseok coughing as they leave the room.
*
Taehyung makes it halfway through his shower before Seokjin finds himself outside the bathroom door, hand raised to knock.
“Come in,” Taehyung croaks out, barely audible over the sound of running water, but Seokjin is already turning the knob anyway.
“Doing okay in there?” Seokjin asks. “You’re not dizzy or anything, right?”
A weak cough sputters out from behind the shower curtain, and then Taehyung pushes it aside a few inches. “Nope. Doing great!”
Seokjin opens his mouth to reply, but Taehyung is already stepping back under the spray.
“I can wash your hair if you want,” he offers after a minute, inching closer to the shower.
“Hyung,” Taehyung sniffles from behind the curtain, “I like it when you help me. But I just want to take a quick shower. Don’t need help for that.”
“...Okay. If you’re sure.” Seokjin takes a step back, then another. Taehyung just sniffles again, and Seokjin can hear him squeezing shampoo out of what sounds like a nearly empty bottle. “I’ll, um…I’ll go, then.”
Seokjin’s shoulders sag as he turns around. He knows that Taehyung is right, and that he’ll be completely fine showering on his own– he’s worrying way too much about a low-grade fever. It’s silly, but Seokjin still can’t quite shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach, even–
“Hyung?” Taehyung calls out hoarsely just as Seokjin is about to open the door to leave.
Seokjin whips around so fast he almost turns a full circle, wobbling in place for a second before he rights himself and steps towards the shower.
Taehyung is peeking back out past the shower curtain, looking half like he’s about to sneeze and half like he’s about to laugh. “Wanna come in?” he offers softly, extending a wet hand. “I guess I do need some help rinsing my hair.”
*
Later in the evening, after a hearty home-cooked meal and a round of cold medicine, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin get tucked into bed together once more. Seokjin takes their temperatures as everyone converges in Jungkook’s bedroom; Namjoon bringing two new boxes of tissues, and Yoongi cleaning up used tissues and gathering empty cups.
Hoseok comes in carrying an armful of blankets, warmed up in the dryer. He doesn’t look well as he drapes them over the bed– a little pale, a little sniffly– but no one seems to notice how unnervingly quiet and subdued he is.
No one except for Seokjin, that is.
“Looks like you brought one too many blankets,” Seokjin says softly, draping one over Hoseok’s shoulders. “Good thinking, warming them up first. The babies will be so much warmer now.”
Hoseok melts beneath the warmth of the blanket, his eyelashes fluttering closed for a long moment before he blinks around the room.
“Hyung?” Jimin’s small, raspy voice draws Seokjin to his side in an instant.
“What do you need, Jiminie?”
Jimin cups his sleeve-covered hand over his face and sneezes twice in a row before answering. “Tissues?”
Seokjin bites back a smile and grabs the tissue box that’s just an arm’s reach away on the nightstand. Jimin has been so quiet the past couple of days, but he’s never hesitated to ask for help. Seokjin can tell he’s fighting to stay awake as he dabs at his reddened nose with a tissue.
“What else?” He urges gently.
“Thirsty,” Jimin whispers. “And Kookie needs water too, please.”
“On it,” Yoongi says, leaving to fetch more water.
By the time Yoongi returns with water, Seokjin has herded Hoseok and Namjoon toward their own rooms to get some sleep, and both Jimin and Taehyung are sleeping. Yoongi sets water bottles on the nightstand and uncaps one for Jungkook.
“Thank you, hyungs,” Jungkook smiles.
He’s looking sleepy now, but restless between Jimin and Taehyung in the bed. Yoongi waits for him to drink and then takes the water back, setting it on the nightstand next to the others. He then hands Jungkook a tissue so he can blow his nose.
“Try to get some sleep,” Seokjin says, tugging the warmed blankets up once Jungkook settles on his back.
Jungkook nods, eyelids drooping. Taehyung coughs in his sleep and Jimin is snoring softly, curled up small against Jungkook’s side. Seokjin stands there watching them fondly until Yoongi takes his elbow and tugs him out of the room.
“You’re hovering,” Yoongi whispers, almost laughing. “Let them sleep.”
Seokjin closes the door and wraps his arm around Yoongi’s waist. “Hoseokie wasn’t looking too good earlier. I should go check on him.”
Yoongi guides Seokjin to his room, shaking his head. “I’ll check on him. You can start washing up. I’ll check on Joon too, before you get any thoughts in your head about doing anything other than getting ready for bed right now.”
Yawning, Seokjin stretches his arms above his head. “Okay, fine. But only because I’m tired. They really wore me out today.”
“Wore yourself out,” Yoongi mutters under his breath in response. “Rest well, Hyung.”
“You too, Yoon. Good night.”
Thursday
Early on Thursday morning, Seokjin appears in the doorway of Jungkook’s room, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
The bed is a mess of tangled limbs and rumpled sheets and used tissues. Seokjin is pleased to see that Jungkook is already awake, sitting up against the headboard right in the middle of the bed between Jimin and Taehyung, and looking much better than he had the day before.
“How are you feeling?” Seokjin asks softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching up to feel Taehyung’s forehead with the back of his hand. He’s happy to feel only sleep-warmth and not the heat of fever he’d felt there yesterday.
“Pretty good,” Jungkook replies, looking up from his phone. He still sounds a little congested, but his face is back to a normal, healthy flush.
Seokjin smiles. “That’s great–”
Taehyung coughs himself awake then, whining hoarsely as he curls up under the blanket. The movement jostles the whole bed and Jimin stirs with a liquidy sniffle.
“Huh?”
Jungkook drops his phone into his lap. His hands move to Jimin’s and Taehyung’s shoulders like he’s trying to soothe them back to sleep, but Seokjin thinks this is a perfect opportunity for a transition.
“Jungkook, why don’t you go take a shower?” he suggests, standing so he can hand Taehyung a bottle of water from the nightstand. He grabs the box of tissues and goes around to the other side of the bed, where Jimin is snuffling into his sleeve. “I’ll get your bedding changed. You can rest on the couch when you’re done, okay?”
“I wanted to go to the gym,” Jungkook replies over the sound of Jimin blowing his nose.
“Funny,” Seokjin deadpans. “You can go to the gym in a few days when you’re fully recovered.”
Jungkook frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. He looks so adorably petulant that Seokjin almost reconsiders.
“Go take a shower,” Seokjin chuckles. “Tae, Jimin, come with me.” He pulls back the blankets. “We’re doing a transfer.”
Taehyung and Jimin are sleepy but compliant. They crawl out of bed, shuffling after Seokjin as he leads them across the hall to Hoseok’s room. Jungkook is right behind them, brows furrowed in confusion until Seokjin opens the door and Hoseok greets them with a pitiful cough-sneeze combo.
“Hoseokie is sick now too,” Seokjin announces, as if they can’t hear that for themselves.
“Oh no, Hyung,” Jimin murmurs, already climbing into the bed. He wraps his arms around Hoseok’s waist. “Sorry we got you sick.”
Hoseok waves a hand dismissively. He tries to speak, but his voice cracks. After clearing his throat, he gets out a “don’t apologize” that’s immediately followed by a loud cough.
“So sorry,” Jimin whispers, resting his head on Hoseok’s chest.
Seokjin presses the back of his hand to Taehyung’s forehead again, lingering for just a moment before nudging him forward. “Go get some sleep with Hoseokie,” he instructs, then turns to Jungkook. “Shower time, Kook.”
As soon as Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung are cuddled up together in bed, and Jungkook is in the bathroom, Seokjin sighs and heads back to his own bedroom. He flops down face-first onto his bed and closes his eyes, only then registering the slight headache that’s forming behind his eyes.
“Great,” he groans out loud. It’s probably because he hasn’t had any water yet this morning. And coffee– he’s definitely going to need several cups of coffee. And maybe some breakfast.
Deciding he’ll wait until he hears Jungkook get out of the shower before he gets up, Seokjin keeps his eyes closed and starts running through a mental list of everything they currently have in the fridge, and wonders what he should make for breakfast.
*
Seokjin doesn’t mean to take a nap, but he ends up falling asleep and wakes two hours later feeling like his tongue is too big for his mouth. There’s drool on his chin and he clumsily wipes it away in disgust, stumbling towards the bathroom so he can brush his teeth and wash his face immediately.
It takes him far too long to feel like he’s fully awake. Even after he splashes cold water on his face, there’s still a heaviness in his body when he moves that makes him want to crawl right back into his bed, and the only thing that stops him from doing just that is his desperate need for a drink of water.
There’s a half-empty bottle of water on his nightstand. He doesn’t even care that it’s room temperature and at least a day old as he chugs the rest of it down greedily. It quenches his thirst just enough that he can focus on the task he’d promised to do next– wash Jungkook’s bedding.
Seokjin’s heart sinks when he steps into Jungkook’s room and sees that his bedding has already been stripped off, and only then does the sound of the washing machine running just down the hall register. He nearly curses under his breath, but bites his tongue and drags a hand down his face instead.
“Did you have a good nap, Hyung?”
Seokjin yelps and turns around to see Jungkook standing in the doorway.
“I didn’t nap!” He blurts out, even though he very obviously did.
Jungkook scrunches up his face. “...Okay, Hyung. Do you want to come to the gym with me?”
Seokjin’s brain doesn’t quite process Jungkook’s words fast enough, so he starts nodding before he realizes what he’s doing. “Wait– what? No, absolutely not–”
“You can’t stop me from working out,” Jungkook says, with far too much amusement in his tone for Seokjin’s liking. “I’m not even sick anymore.”
Seokjin’s hands fly to his hips. “Jungkook, you still sound sick. You should be resting, not working out.”
“I don’t need my voice to lift weights,” Jungkook giggles, infuriatingly nonchalant. “I feel good, I’m only a tiny bit congested still– but I’ll wear a mask. And I’ll make it to practice in time, promise.”
Closing his eyes, Seokjin takes a deep breath through his nose, then exhales slowly. He opens his eyes to look at Jungkook, who’s pulling on a hoodie. He’s already dressed in his gym clothes and Seokjin feels his sense of control rush out of him, like he’s trying to catch something that’s slipping right past his fingers.
No, he thinks, but he can’t get his mouth to say it. No, you can’t–
Then, Jungkook is standing right in front of him. “You doing okay, Jin-hyung?” he asks quietly, one hand coming up to hover somewhere near Seokjin’s shoulder.
Instead, Seokjin ducks away and stalks towards the door. “I’m fine, Kook,” he lies, not looking back. “Be safe at the gym. Please–” He swallows thickly, suddenly extremely thirsty again. “Please don’t overdo it, okay?”
He leaves before he can hear Jungkook’s response, and before he spirals further out of control.
*
“Thank you, Hyung.” Hoseok has the blanket pulled up to his chin. His face is pale, sleep-warm beneath Seokjin’s palm. But not fever-warm– Seokjin has checked twice already in the past ten minutes.
“Of course, Hoseokie. Anything you need, you just call Hyung, okay?”
Hoseok nods and closes his eyes, already close to falling back to sleep. Seokjin sits on the edge of the bed for just a moment longer, watching over him as his breathing evens out. On Hoseok’s other side, Jimin and Taehyung are sleeping face to face, their congested breaths mixing together.
Slowly, Seokjin stands and backs out of Hoseok’s room, pulling the door shut softly. He’s feeling tired again after a long day of caring for his sick dongsaengs and a gruelling dance practice– and, annoyingly, very thirsty again.
Before he gets a drink of water from the kitchen sink, Seokjin stops in front of the calendar. Today, there had only been dance practice, which Hosoek, Jimin and Taehyung had skipped out on. Tomorrow– Friday– there’s only a meeting on the calendar for Namjoon and Yoongi, plus a recording session for Jungkook that Seokjin is almost certain he’ll have to postpone until his voice is back in shape.
And then, it will be the weekend. Seokjin has never looked forward to a weekend more. He sees a couple of social events on Saturday that he briefly considers erasing, but decides to leave just in case. He reaches out to touch the eraser anyway, his fingers hovering for a moment.
Behind him, whoever is sitting in the dining room sniffles loudly– loud enough to remind Seokjin that he had been on a mission to get water. He drops his hand just as there’s another sniffle.
It sounds like Namjoon.
Sure enough, he turns around just in time to see Namjoon swipe at his nose with his sleeve, sniffling yet again.
Suspicious.
Seokjin sighs and makes his way to the kitchen, deciding he’ll make some tea for both himself and Namjoon. He fills the electric kettle with water and finds two mugs and the tea, leaning on the counter and staring absently at the backsplash until the kettle starts to whistle.
When he brings everything out to the table, Namjoon is writing in his notebook. Seokjin sets a mug of tea down in front of him and sits down in the chair across from him. Up close, he can clearly see that Namjoon is exhausted, dark circles under his eyes that stand out against his too-pale face.
“Didn’t sleep well last night?” Seokjin asks, instantly regretting it when he sees the offended look that crosses Namjoon’s face. “Sorry, maybe it’s just me. Felt like I was waking up every two hours.”
Namjoon deflates a little, leaning back in his chair with a small sniffle. “Yeah, guess I didn’t sleep very much either.”
That’s all Namjoon gives him verbally, though. Seokjin stares down at his mug of tea. Namjoon’s a little more sensitive than the others when it comes to illnesses. While Seokjin understands all too well the pressure Namjoon feels to appear strong in front of the other members, he still wishes their leader wouldn’t be so stubborn about getting sick.
He clears his throat, keeping his eyes down as he asks, “You feeling okay?”
“Yep.”
Seokjin nearly smiles. He glances over to see Namjoon watching him with narrowed eyes.
“And what about you?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “Jungkook texted me earlier and said you were acting weird, whatever he means by that.”
“I was just being a little overprotective, that’s all,” Seokjin scoffs. “I still don’t think he should have gone to the gym when he’s recovering. I don’t like how pale he was looking at dance practice, either.”
Namjoon, having successfully deflected from his own health, looks almost smug as he responds, “We were all looking pale by the end of that choreo run Sungdeuk-hyung put us through. Imagine how it’ll go when Hoseok is feeling better.”
Seokjin shudders and takes a sip of his tea. “Yeah. Just imagine.”
Friday
On Friday, Seokjin has to finally admit that Jungkook isn’t really sick anymore. Even Jimin and Taehyung are clearly on the mend, feeling much better, their symptoms nearly gone.
Namjoon, on the other hand, can’t say the same.
“Just because you’re saying you’re fine doesn’t make it true,” Yoongi says dryly as he watches Namjoon struggle through making himself breakfast while trying to stifle a cough. “Go to bed, Joon.”
“Better yet,” Seokjin adds, “Go to Hoseok’s room. Jimin has already vacated so there’s a spot for you.”
“Don’t need to go to the sick room,” Namjoon mutters under his breath, sniffing sharply. “I need to get ready for my meeting.”
“We’re sending Jimin and Jungkook in your place, actually,” Seokjin informs him, bracing himself for their leader’s response. “You can’t deny that they’ll have wonderful ideas for the marketing team, and you’ll be able to add your input next week when you’re no longer dripping from your nose.”
Namjoon flushes pink and takes the tissue that Seokjin hands him without a word.
Ten minutes later, after Namjoon has struggled stubbornly through a bowl of cereal and accumulated a pile of used tissues, Yoongi and Seokjin are able to convince him to rest with Hoseok and Taehyung.
Reluctantly, Namjoon joins Hoseok in his bed, grumbling under his breath but rapidly losing steam. Taehyung is in the shower, and when he gets out he heads to his own bedroom instead, claiming that his hyungs will sleep better with more room in the bed.
“I’ll still rest today, Hyung. I promise,” he grins before Seokjin can protest. “I just have a few things I need to work on. I won’t even leave my bed.”
“I’ll be keeping you to that,” Seokjin replies, reaching up to feel Taehyung’s forehead. “There will be frequent checks. Now, go drink that water I gave you this morning that you’ve barely even touched yet.”
“How did the three of them recover so quickly?” Yoongi murmurs after Taehyung leaves the room. “If I end up catching this, I’m going to be stuck in bed for a week.”
In response, Hoseok lets out a hacking cough, Namjoon sneezes loudly, and Seokjin sighs.
“They’re young,” Seokjin says.
“You’re only five years older than Jungkook,” Yoongi points out.
“Is that all?” Seokjin muses, dragging a hand down his face. “Feels more like ten, sometimes.”
A loud snore interrupts, and Seokjin and Yoongi look over in surprise to see that Namjoon has already fallen asleep, his mouth open and his hands bunched up into fists in front of his face. Hoseok, yawning, turns to face him, his eyelids drooping.
“Poor thing has been more tired than he was letting on,” Seokjin tuts, pulling the blanket up over Namjoon and Hoseok and tucking it in around their shoulders. “So stubborn.”
“Yeah. Well, you should get some rest too, Hyung,” Yoongi murmurs. “You’re doing a lot to take care of everyone.”
Seokjin hums noncommittally, but he knows Yoongi is right.
They leave Namjoon and Hoseok to sleep. Seokjin peers through the door for a moment before he closes it the rest of the way, a tired yet fond smile crossing his face when Namjoon lets out a loud, stuttering snore.
“Kook and Jimin and I are going to head out now,” Yoongi says. “Text me if you need anything.”
“I need this cold virus to stop attacking my members,” Seokjin chuckles wryly, leaning against the wall to watch Yoongi pack his work bag. His gaze flits to Jimin and Jungkook pulling their shoes on by the front door. “Keep an eye on them for me?”
The corners of Yoongi’s mouth turn up. “Only if you promise to get some rest while we're gone,” he negotiates.
Seokjin waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
*
Instead of resting, Seokjin decides to use the time to catch up on laundry.
The chores have fallen a bit behind over the past few days; Seokjin is almost certain that they’ll be doing laundry for a week straight until they’ll be able to catch up. He gets a few loads out of the way, at least, lugging piles of clothes and laundry baskets throughout the various rooms of the house.
He stops by Hoseok’s room after he finally gets the towels sorted and folded. A nap has left Namjoon more congested and no less stubborn than before. He’s sitting up in bed with his laptop in front of him, a tissue clutched against his nose.
“How are you feeling?” Seokjin asks, whispering since Hoseok is still sleeping. “You’re not working, are you?”
“I have a lot to catch up on already,” Namjoon replies, blowing his nose one-handed. “I saw you canceled both of my meetings on Monday.”
His tone clearly implies his dissatisfaction with the schedule change, but Seokjin isn’t too worried about that.
“Oh no, you sound stuffy. I’ll bring you some medicine with lunch.”
Namjoon sniffles, frowning and scrunching up his nose in discomfort at the resulting shift of congestion in his sinuses. He plucks another tissue from the box and swipes at his nose. “I’m not hungry. And I’ll be fine to work on Monday.”
“I admire your optimism,” Seokjin chuckles, checking Namjoon and Hoseok’s water bottles. “Drink some of that water, please.”
Seokjin pretends not to see Namjoon rolling his eyes as he leaves to go check on Taehyung, knowing he’s probably much more miserable than he’s currently letting on.
Taehyung is in his room, sitting in his bed similarly to Namjoon, with his laptop propped up in front of him. He’s watching an anime, but pauses it and smiles up at Seokjin when he comes in.
“How are you feeling?” Seokjin asks, sitting down next to him and cupping the side of his face. “You’re sounding a lot better.”
“Feel a lot better,” Taehyung says. “No more fever. No stuffy nose. I think tomorrow I’ll be–”
“Nope,” Seokjin cuts him off. “Tomorrow, you can rest.”
Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest. “You let Jimin and Jungkook go to work today,” he protests.
“Jimin and Jungkook didn’t have fevers just yesterday,” Seokjin counters. “And that meeting couldn’t really be postponed. Trust me, those two aren’t going anywhere tomorrow, either.”
Whining, Taehyung rolls away from Seokjin. “I’m just going to see my friends, Hyung. They don’t care if I’m sick.”
“Then they shouldn’t mind if you take one more day to recover. Wouldn’t want to get them sick too, would we?” He pats Taehyung’s hip. “Now, I’m going to go get started on lunch. Drink some more water, please.”
*
When Yoongi, Jimin and Jungkook return from their meeting, Seokjin herds them all to the table and serves them steaming bowls of samgyetang.
“How was the meeting?”
“Productive!” Jungkook chirps, and Jimin nods in agreement.
“Boring,” Yoongi mutters around a yawn. He pulls his bowl closer and starts eating enthusiastically.
“Thank you for lunch, Hyung,” Jimin says. “It’s really good.”
Seokjin lingers a moment longer, watching the three of them eat with a smile on his face, before he takes lunch to Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung in their rooms.
After everyone is done and Seokjin has cleaned up all of the dishes and the kitchen, he feels tired enough to nap. Instead, he decides to do one more load of laundry for the day. As he passes through the living room, he sees that Yoongi is sleeping on the couch, curled up under a blanket. He stops to feel his forehead, checking his temperature and only moving on when he’s satisfied it’s normal, though he pulls the blanket up a little high over Yoongi’s shoulders first.
Saturday
Yoongi holds out for as long as he can. He eats tangerines by the bagful until he’s undeniably fortified with vitamin C. He hauls around the disinfectant wipes with him everywhere he goes. But after a week of living in the same house as sick people, he is inevitably bound to get sick sooner or later.
He just wishes it would have been later, and not when Hoseok and Namjoon are still sick. Not when Seokjin is likely on the verge of getting sick too, but too focused on taking care of everyone else to even take care of himself.
He wakes up on Saturday morning and can’t even pretend he’s not sick– not that he ever would. He’s not stubborn like Namjoon and Seokjin. But he’s also not looking forward to letting everyone know that he’s finally caught this cold, and instead waits until Jimin walks into the kitchen while he’s getting himself some water to quietly admit that he has a sore throat and a runny nose.
“Oh no,” Jimin gasps, wrapping his arms around Yoongi. “I’m so sorry, Hyung.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” Yoongi shrugs.
“What do you need? Medicine? Should I make you some tea?”
The corners of Yoongi’s mouth twitch up. “You’ve been spending too much time with Jin-hyung, huh?”
Jimin huffs, feigning offense.
“He doesn’t know yet, by the way,” Yoongi sighs. “I’ll tell him later, but for now I’m going back to bed.”
“Want me to cuddle with you?” Jimin offers, and Yoongi shakes his head, aiming a cough into the crook of his arm.
“Thanks for the offer, but maybe later.”
Jimin follows him down the hall anyway, stopping by Jungkook’s room to grab a spare box of tissues. He hovers as Yoongi climbs into bed– his fussing eerily similar to Seokjin’s– and only leaves after he’s sure Yoongi is comfortable.
*
In the afternoon, the whole house is quiet.
Yoongi is napping in his own room, and Hoseok and Namjoon are napping in Hoseok’s room.
Seokjin seems to be missing until Jungkook checks his room and sees that he’s asleep in his bed, sprawled out like he flopped down and was too tired to move. Jungkook can hear that his breathing is labored and stuffy, and his chest tightens with concern. It’s all because of him, after all, that everyone in the house ended up getting sick.
“I’m sorry, Hyung,” Jungkook whispers as he tugs a blanket over Seokjin’s sleeping form.
Sun is shining through the windows, bright and cheery, when Jungkook goes back out to the living room to find Jimin and Taehyung.
“Jin-hyung is sleeping,” he tells them. “And I’m pretty sure he’s sick now.”
“Well, I guess it’s up to us now to take care of the hyungs,” Taehyung says. “They took care of us. Really sucks that all of us got this cold, but I guess that’s kinda how it always goes, huh?”
“Sharing is caring?” Jungkook grins sheepishly, holding out his hands until Jimin and Taehyung laugh and roll their eyes.
They spend the rest of the afternoon quietly taking care of their sick hyungs and playing video games, and the day passes with surprising calmness. None of the four sickies are feeling well enough to do much other than nap, and the fact that it's a weekend seems to help with any lingering guilt about missing out on work after a week of so much missed already.
Jimin checks in on Seokjin twice, each time finding him more deeply asleep than before.
The second time, he presses his palm to Seokjin’s forehead the same way Seokjin always does for them, frowning at the slight warmth there. He pulls the blanket a little higher over his shoulders, sets a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand, and tiptoes back out.
“He’s definitely sick,” he reports when he rejoins Taehyung and Jungkook in the living room.
Jungkook frowns, feeling guilty all over again, but Taehyung pats his knee.
“Hey,” he says softly. “No blaming yourself. It’s not like we tried to avoid cuddling with each other. This was basically inevitable.”
Still, Jungkook frowns and buries his face into Taehyung’s shoulder. “I just hate that I really stressed hyung out this week,” he says.
“I think hyung would be stressed if he knew that you’re feeling guilty about that,” Jimin says gently, rubbing Jungkook’s back. “As long as you give him lots of cuddles when he’s suffering, he’ll be just fine.”
A couple of hours later, Jungkook has made a run to the pharmacy for a restock, Taehyung has picked up a few extra neglected chores, and Jimin has offered his cuddling services to all four sick hyungs, and the house falls quiet again by the time the sun starts to set.
*
“What should we make for dinner?” Jimin asks Taehyung and Jungkook. “Any ideas?”
“I think,” Taehyung replies, “that we should order takeout for dinner.”
Jungkook nods. “Not a bad idea.”
Jimin laughs, relieved he doesn’t have to cook. “Takeout it is. I’ll place an order now.”
They decide on a restaurant and order more than enough food for the seven of them. When the food arrives, they plate it up and arrange it on trays with water and tea and orange juice before carrying it to their sick hyungs.
Hoseok, Namjoon and Yoongi have all taken over Seokjin’s bed, but Seokjin is nowhere to be found. Once they’ve delivered food and make sure their three hyungs have everything they need, they go in search of their eldest hyung.
They find Seokjin in Namjoon’s bed– which makes sense, since his room is a bit crowded.
Seokjin is clearly not feeling well, but they decide not to address it just yet.
“We brought you dinner,” Jimin says, climbing into bed next to Seokjin. “Everyone else has already eaten.”
Seokjin sniffles wetly, taking a moment to respond. He looks like he’s still in the process of waking up after a long sleep, his eyes puffy and his face slack. Jungkook props a pillow between his back and the headboard and Taehyung arranges a variety of drinks on the nightstand within Seokjin’s reach.
“Thank you,” Seokjin finally says, his voice cracking. “You’re sure everyone else has already eaten? What about–?”
“Yes, Hyung,” Jimin interrupts. “Everyone else ate. We just ordered food, so it’s nothing special, but hopefully there’s something here that looks good?” He hands Seokjin a pair of chopsticks and nudges a bowl of rice closer on the tray.
Seokjin picks at the food, sniffling frequently. Taehyung hands him a tissue and Seokjin doesn’t even seem to realize that all three of them are watching him as he wipes his nose with it.
“Do you want some tea, Hyung?” Jimin asks, reaching out to brush Seokjin’s hair back from his forehead. His palm lingers for a moment before sliding down to the side of his face, his thumb brushing back and forth across the apple of Seokjin’s cheek.
In the end, Seokjin only has a few sips of tea and less than half of his food before he declares he’s done, but eating seems to give him a boost of energy.
“I should go check on the others,” he says, surprising them. He grabs the tray and starts gathering everything up, too fast for any of them to help before he’s carrying it out of the room.
“We already checked on everyone,” Jimin calls out after him, but he knows it’s pointless to try and stop him now.
He trails out after Seokjin, with Taehyung and Jungkook right behind him. Seokjin sets the tray on the kitchen counter before going to find Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok in the living room, where they’re watching a movie together.
“How are you all feeling?” He asks them, eyeing the crumpled tissues and half-empty mugs on the coffee table in front of them. “Did you all eat already?”
Namjoon pauses the movie and nods. “Yep. The maknaes took care of ordering dinner tonight, so we’ve already had food.”
While Seokjin interrogates, Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s hand and pulls him to the kitchen.
“We have to clean everything up before Jin-hyung tries to do it,” he whispers. “Let’s hurry.”
In record time, Taehyung and Jungkook clean up the kitchen, box up the leftover food for the fridge, and wipe down the counters until they’re sparkling. They manage to sneak back out to the living room just in time to hear Jimin convince Seokjin to head back to his room to rest, claiming that he and Taehyung and Jungkook are going to do the same.
“Good idea,” Taehyung nods, throwing his arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “We can all turn in early tonight.”
“We’re going to bed as soon as this movie is done,” Yoongi promises, smiling up at Seokjin.
“That’s good,” Seokjin murmurs absently, rubbing at his nose. “Okay, then. Get some rest, everyone.”
All six of them are left shocked when that’s all they get from Seokjin– no more fussing, no protest. He just turns and heads back to his room, moving sluggishly and sniffling the whole way.
“He’s sick, isn’t he?” Hoseok asks once they hear his bedroom door close. “Think he’ll be okay?”
“Of course,” Jimin replies confidently. “He’ll probably just need a little…encouragement to rest once he accepts it tomorrow.”
Namjoon reaches for a tissue and blows his nose. “Want to watch the rest of this movie with us?” he offers, looking at Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook over his tissue.
“Sure,” Jungkook responds, watching as Hoseok grabs a tissue next. “But first, I think we better get a few more boxes of tissues out here.”
Sunday
Seokjin finally succumbs to the unavoidable shared cold just when the weekend is reaching its end.
Truthfully, he’s been fighting off the cold for much longer, but it’s on Sunday afternoon as he’s sitting on the edge of his bed checking his emails on his phone when he feels it all hitting him at once– a sore throat, a runny nose, the sense of dread he feels at having to cancel yet more meetings and practices and events.
“Shit,” he whimpers to himself, allowing himself to curse. Allowing himself to wallow for just a moment in self-pity, because, shit. This really sucks.
“Fuck,” Seokjin adds, wincing at how hoarse his voice already is.
He presses both hands against his face, groaning softly and preparing himself for what lies ahead. He’ll need to let the others know. He should take some medicine, to lessen the symptoms. He’ll definitely have to call the company to discuss schedules and rearrange some things on the calendar.
What Seokjin wants, though, is to curl up in his bed and pull the blankets over his head and pretend like he’s not sick. Maybe he can just sleep it off. Maybe he can keep fighting it for just a little–
A harsh sneeze rips its way out of him, painful and wet. Uncomfortable. The thought of his poor dongsaengs, all six of them, having to go through this is more than Seokjin’s heart can handle at the moment, and he feels his eyes welling up with tears as he lifts his blanket and curls up on his bed and squeezes his eyes shut.
Just a little sleep. Just a little longer.
*
“How long has your throat been bothering you, Hyung?” Jimin asks, startling Seokjin as he sips on a glass of water at the kitchen table that evening, wincing with every swallow.
“Probably since Thursday, when Hobi-hyung said his throat hurt and Jin-hyung whispered “same”,” Jungkook shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” He wraps a blanket around Seokjin’s shoulder and then wraps his arms around him from behind so he can’t shrug it off.
“You’re mishearing things,” Seokjin huffs, wiggling around weakly in Jungkook’s hold.
Taehyung sets a mug of tea down in front of Seokjin. “Drink this, Hyung. It’ll help your throat a lot.”
“You can go back to bed, Hyung,” Jungkook murmurs. “We’ll take care of everything.”
“I haven’t even started making dinner yet,” Seokjin huffs. The thought of standing and even just walking to the kitchen makes his legs feel shaky.
“Tae is already on it,” Jimin tells him. “Do you want to go to your room, or to the couch?”
Seokjin doesn’t even reply. He just stands and lets Jungkook guide him down the hallway. It doesn’t feel right to have the youngest members taking care of him, the eldest member– but it feels necessary, considering how exhausted he is currently.
Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok are already sleeping in Seokjin’s bed, each of them snoring away. It’s a tight fit, but Seokjin crawls in next to Namjoon and curls around him easily, face buried in Namjoon’s shoulder. Jimin tucks him in alongside the other three, smoothing the blankets over them until Seokjin settles into sleep, his breathing evening out into soft snores that are drowned out by the congested breathing of the others.
“They sound so miserable,” Jimin frowns sadly.
“Are the four of them really going to snore like this all night? How are they not waking each other up?” Taehyung asks.
“They need a humidifier,” Jungkook decides. “I’ll go get mine and bring it in here. Turn them so they’re lying on their sides instead of their backs.”
When Jungkook returns with his humidifier, he finds that his four sick hyungs have been maneuvered to face each other– now Namjoon and Seokjin are chest to chest, while Yoongi and Hoseok are curled around each other, Yoongi’s head tucked under Hoseok’s chin.
“They’re still snoring,” Taehyung whines.
“That’s just Joonie-hyung. He might not stop.”
Jimin checks his phone. “I’m setting a timer for their next dose of medicine. We can wake them up for food, give them meds, and then put them back to bed.”
Jungkook’s hand settles on Seokjin’s forehead. “Poor Hyung,” he whispers. “He took really good care of all of us.”
Jimin gives a small smile. “And we’ll take good care of him, too.”
*
“What are we doing this week?” Jimin asks, staring at the calendar in confusion.
It’s nearly midnight and the three youngest members of the household are gathered in the kitchen before bed.
“I don’t know,” Taehyung replies, equally perplexed. “Jin-hyung usually does the calendar, but he erased everything for the rest of the month. How long did he think we were all gonna be sick?”
“Don’t you two ever look at the other calendar?” Jungkook asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
Jimin and Taehyung turn to face him. “What other calendar?”
“The shared one. Everyone puts their stuff in it?” Jungkook spins his phone around to show the screen. “All of our meetings and other work stuff, plus practices and lessons and everything? How do you not know about it?”
Jimin grabs the phone, eyes going wide. “How long has this existed?”
“I just found out about it like a year ago,” Jungkook says. “But probably since debut. How do you think hyung keeps track of everything? He just likes to write it out so we can see it easier.”
Taehyung gulps. “Uh, that’s a shared calendar? Like, with the whole company?”
Jungkook smirks. “Yes, Hyung. Everyone knows about your Friday night anime marathons and your online book club.”
“There’s a lot of stuff on this calendar for tomorrow morning,” Jimin says, still looking at Jungkook’s phone.
“Guess we should head to bed, then,” Jungkook replies, hiding a yawn behind a fist. “It’s getting late.”
“Or we could stay up and watch something on TV?” Taehyung suggests.
“I mean…” Jimin looks between Taehyung and Jungkook. “We might as well call in sick tomorrow too, right? Someone needs to be here to take care of the hyungs.”
Jungkook nods. “Good idea. Maybe Tuesday, too.”
“It won’t be hard to catch up on stuff,” Taehyung adds. “We’ll be back to work in a few days.”
Their decision made, the three maknaes head to the living room, piling onto the couch and pulling blankets into their laps.
That’s where they all fall asleep a few hours later, and that’s where Hoseok finds them on Monday morning when he shuffles out of Seokjin’s room in a half-awake daze.
For a moment, he just stares blearily at them, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. Then, he shuffles into Jimin’s room and pulls the comforter off his bed, dragging it back out to drape it over the three of them, tucking it gently around their sleeping forms.
With a smile on his face, Hoseok goes back down the hall, slipping quietly into Seokjin’s room. Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi are all still fast asleep. Hoseok crawls into bed with them, snuggling against Seokjin’s warm body and closing his eyes so he can catch a few more blissful hours of sleep.
Jungkook is startled late one night, when he opens the toilet door to find one of his hyungs already inside, curled over the open toilet seat as he retches futilely.
“Hyung!” Jungkook cries, alarmed, when he catches sight of Hoseok’s pale face, one of his hands curled protectively over his stomach. “Hyung, what happened? Was it something you ate?” But they'd all had the same thing for dinner that night; yet none of the other members had exhibited any signs of illness so far.
Hoseok closes his eyes when Jungkook crouches beside him, leaning into the palm Jungkook places on his forehead with a quiet sigh. His dancer hyung doesn't feel warm at all, which somewhat alleviates Jungkook's worry that he had caught some kind of stomach bug. “It's - stress induced.” Hoseok croaks weakly, eyes still closed. “Don't worry. It usually passes after some time.”
Usually? “You mean this isn't the first time this has happened?” Jungkook asks, concerned. How long has this been going on? And why did Hoseok hide it from them?
“Since we've been trainees. Yoongi hyung knows.” Comes the short reply, before Hoseok lurches forward again to retch, but nothing comes up besides a tiny bit of bile.
Jungkook knows now is not the time to be questioning his hyung, not when he is clearly in need of comfort more than anything else. He presses in closer, tucking Hoseok carefully against his body, feeling relieved when his hyung leans his weight more fully against him, head dropping to rest against Jungkook's chest.
He'll hold Hoseok for a while until he feels better, before he carries the sick member back to bed - and in the morning, he'll look for Yoongi hyung to find out how he can better help his hyung, when his stress induced sickness inevitably rears its head again.
A/n: Andd we have our first two members and prompt revealed! 🤗 i wonder if anyone has managed to guess them correctly? More to come in the next few days!
Note: @sickonthedancefloor I hope I did you prompt justice, friend!!!
“Hey! Look who it is!” Taehyung exclaimed, arms thrown out in welcome as the door closed behind Hoseok. The dancer paused, holding up a peace sign before shuffling to the front of the room. “Look who finally decided to show up!”
“Ha ha, so funny.” Hoseok rolled his eyes over dramatically, his statement punctuated by a sharp sniffle that had Seokjin practically shoving him into the folding chair at the front of the practice room. “Hyung, I know what I agreed to!”
Jin’s eyes alone spoke volumes. “One incident today, Hobi, JUST ONE!” He held up a finger for emphasis, “and I’m sending you back home.”
“Relax, hyung.” Namjoon clapped Jin on the shoulder with a raise of his eye brows. “Hoseok-ah’s an adult. He knows his limits.” The leader’s eyes flicked warningly towards the dancer. “Right?”
Hoseok shot them both an enthusiastic, two-handed thumbs up. “Right-o! Cough’s been gone for about 24 hours, so I am cleared to return to work.” Another sniffle punctuated his statement. “I am still a little stuffed up, but it’s out of my lungs, and that was the deal.”
Seokjin narrowed his eyes at Namjoon, as the leader had agreed to the deal that Hoseok could return to work as soon as his cough settled. It was, after all, just a cold, albeit the scary kind that settled in his chest. Clearly, though, Hoseok hadn’t developed bronchitis (or, don’t even think it, pneumonia,) so the leader really couldn’t move the goal post now.
Namjoon nodded. “That was the deal. As was you taking it easy today. Thus,” he gestured down, “the chair.”
“I know, I know.” Hoseok waved away the leader’s concern. “So go stretch. My eyes’ll be sharper today since I can’t participate fully.” The smile behind his mask was overly sweet, and both Seokjin and Namjoon could sense it, immediately groaning and returning to the dance floor. Hoseok chuckled to himself, rubbing at his neck. While his throat no longer felt sore, a persistent pain was beginning to bug him, crawling from his neck up the right side of his head to his ear. Hoseok sighed; it was probably from all the laying down he’d been doing. Sure, he didn’t have anything more than a stupid cold, but it had knocked him out harder than he’d expected. He’d even spiked a fever three days ago. He’d finally turned the corner two nights ago, the ache in his chest finally easing from rest and medicine. Yet the fact that he was still uncomfortably stuffed up despite the congestion finally loosening its hold on his lungs? Criminal.
Pulling his water bottle and a box of tissues from his bag and setting it decisively next to his chair, Hoseok’s eyes scanned his members, all in various stage of stretching. It was SO GOOD to be back, to be able to participate, even in a small way. When he called the member together to start running through choreography, he was J-Hope the dance captain once again, all focus and precision. Sure, he winced a few times from the pain crawling up his neck. Sure, he had to pause a few times to ward off the occasional sneeze. But Hoseok was back in his element, and his members were on top of the world having their choreography virtuoso back in action.
Everything came crashing down an hour before their lunch break. The group moved to a newer song, a dance that hadn’t fully settled into their muscle memory yet. So far, Hoseok had been able to teach from his chair, watching their run throughs and providing verbal feedback with minor hand gestures. But the group was getting worked up. Something about this track… even Jimin and Jungkoook were struggling.
“Okay.” Hoseok held up his hands and vaulted to his feet. The movement caused a sharper pain in his ear then Hoseok expected, and he stumbled slightly. Six pairs of hands raised, as if nervous he would somehow faint immediately. “I’m fine. Just moved a little too fast.” While every member’s posture relaxed, their eyes did not. Hoseok did his best to ignore that.
“Sit down, hyung. We can figure it out,” Jungkook insisted, sincere and helpful.
“It’s okay, Kook, I can walk you through a few moves. I won’t go at tempo, promise.” Hoseok crossed his thumb over his heart, watching the older members out of his periphery. “The movement goes 5, 6, 7…” He began to slowly walk through the steps, breaking it down, hoping to provide clarity where it was needed. And he was highly successful… until the turn. The turn involved a level change - there was a plié and head tilt and, when he did so, Hoseok’s vision tilted. He stumbled again, blinking rapidly to clear the sudden stars swimming before his eyes.
Steady hands caught his shoulders. “Hoseok, sit.” Yoongi.
“I’m f-fine…” Hoseok attempted to shake his head, but the movement caused another burst of pain and he cried out, holding the right side of his head as he fell onto one knee.
“HYUNG!” The cry echoed around him, but Hoseok couldn’t identify the voice as the volume sent yet another shockwave through his body. What was happening? This hadn’t happened at all since he’d been sick. As the confusion swelled within him, Hoseok felt his heart beat start to race and the room around him began to spin faster and faster.
“Hoseok?” Yoongi’s voice, deep and soft, right next to his left ear. Warm hands still holding Hoseok like his life depended on it. “What’s wrong, love?”
“I…” Hoseok swallowed thickly, suddenly nauseous. “Dizzy…” he breathed.
“Jimin, go grab ice, please,” a voice directed from somewhere above Hoseok’s head. “Kook, go with him.”
Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut, willing the spinning to stop. It didn’t. Neither did the screaming pain in his ear.
“Jung Hoseok!” A hand against his cheek startled the dancer’s eyes open. He met Seokjin’s worried gaze. “Hobi, can you hear me?”
“Huh?” Hoseok gasped breathlessly.
“I’ve said your name three times,” Seokjin said gently, his thumb working caressing the rapper’s cheek. “You responded to Yoongi right away, but not me. You don’t seem to have a fever, you’re suddenly dizzy, you…”
“Are pulling on your ear,” Taehyung interrupted.
“Wha-?” Hoseok didn’t even realize he was doing exactly that until Yoongi grabbed his hand, folding it into his own. “I don’t…”
“Seok-ah, you’re pulling on the ear where Jinnie was,” Taehyung said, eyebrows creased in worry. “Isn’t that… a clear sign of an ear infection?”
Seokjin sat back on his heels, eyebrows furrowing. “Since when are you knowledgeable about that?”
Taehyung shrugged. “I have two younger siblings. When someone pulls on their ear, that usually means ear infection.”
“But I…” Hoseok paused, the world only starting to come back into focus. He sniffled harshly, suddenly aware of his symptoms again. “When was I…?”
“Just now,” Yoongi answered before he could finish. “You lost your balance, then grabbed for your ear. And Jin’s right, you didn’t seem to hear him at all, but heard me just fine. That sounds like infection, Hoba…”
“But… how?” Hoseok asked, meeting his eldest hyung’s gaze.
Seokjin shrugged. “A lot of ways. Probably your cold moving from your chest up to your head.”
“Yeah, all that snot’s gotta go somewhere,” Taehyung joked.
“That’s… so rude.”
Taehyung’s face fell. “No, hyung, I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, no, not you, Tae!” Hoseok shook his head, immediately regretting it at the shoot of pain through his ear. After he winced thoroughly, he forced his eyes up to the younger man, squinting against the light. “I mean rude of my body to do that. Your joke was, unfortunately, spot on.”
“Hey, Kookie, can you turn off the first light switch?” Namjoon asked suddenly, his eyes focused beyond the small group. Hoseok assume the ice brigade has returned. “I think the full fluorescents are hurting our dear choreographer.”
“It’s okay, I…”
“Stop.” Yoongi pressed a finger to where he assumed Hoseok’s lips where beneath his mask (he was mostly right.) “You’re allowed to be in pain. Just accept it. And sit back in your chair until we can you to a doctor.”
“So dramatic,” Hoseok muttered as Jimin pressed an ice pack into his hand, which the dancer immediately pressed against his throbbing right ear. “It’s just a cold… and maybe an ear infection.”
“Jeez, hyung, we leave for two seconds and you get sick AGAIN?!” Jungkook exclaimed, shaking his head. “I’m starting to feel left out.”
“Oh trust me, this is something you want to be left out of,” Hoseok replied as Yoongi and Seokjin lifted him from the floor and back to his chair. Did he need the help? No. Was he going to hate the coddling that was sure to come with this new illness development? Yes. But did he love it anyway? 1000 percent.
Summary: Hoseok is invited to Jimin’s half birthday and has no clue why he’s so stuffy.
Notes: Holy moly I started writing this in maybe November??? And COMPLETELY forgot about it. So so sorry it’s so rushed and bad, just trying to get back into writing!
“A … garden party?” Hoseok asks incredulously. Who would even throw a garden party on a Wednesday—
“Jimin.” Jungkook answers, as if he’s read Hoseok’s mind. Maybe he has, who even knows? He’s a maknae and maknaes are always on top …
“But why—“
“It’s his half birthday.”
Well that explains a lot. Half birthdays to Jimin are, for some reason, almost as important as actual birthdays. The dancer had claimed that it was his way of showing people that he had made it halfway through another year of his lifetime of putting up with their shit.
“He’s having it at Seoul Forest. Said the flowers highlight his hair.”
Hoseok frowns. Jimin’s hair was just dyed brown last week…
“He dyed it pink.” Jungkook finishes. “The amount of split ends I counted was crazy.”
Of course it’s pink. Jimin has dyed it so many times in the past couple months that Hoseok was worried about him balding.
“So anyways,” Jungkook continues. “you’re coming, right? There’s gonna be food, flowers, hot men, more food … Did I mention food?”
Hoseok pretends to think about it, but he already knows he wouldn’t miss it for the world, already marking the date down in his mental calendar, his mental writing in pastel glitter pen.
But wait. He has an important meeting to go to on Wednesday…
“I guess I’ll think about it.” Hoseok finally responds, thinking about whether or not he can skip this meeting with his boss or not. It’s to discuss whether or not they should fire one of the other dance instructors for coming to work drunk and teaching the kids a completely … different choreography than they were supposed to learn. He also has a lunch scheduled with his sister and his parents to discuss his parents’ move to a new house in Gwangju and a plan to plant-sit for his neighbor that afternoon. And he also has to walk his other neighbor’s dog that evening …
Then he stops. “Which hot men will be attending?”
Jungkook sighs dreamily. “Namjoon and those big juicy thighs, Jin-hyung, Tae obviously, Yoon—“
“I’ll be there!” Hoseok shouts, nearly throwing himself out of his chair.
The maknae slurps his milk loudly. “You would be there just for him, wouldn’t you?”
Hoseok catches himself nodding, not even an ounce of embarrassment at this point. Everyone knows he likes Yoongi and … he’s hoping that Yoongi might like him back too…?
So that’s a quick summary as to how Hoseok finds himself at a garden party on a random Wednesday afternoon holding a jar of strawberry jam and a basket of Texas Roadhouse rolls.
He’s ushered under an arch of balloons by Taehyung, Jimin’s boyfriend. Taehyung holds his arms out so Hoseok moves in for the hug, only to be bypassed for the rolls.
Only a little stung, but Hoseok understands. Texas Roadhouse has good rolls.
A moment later, Taehyung points to a daintily decorated table. “Gifts go there.” He points to another table. “Cards on that table.” And then a third table. “You can find out from Jungkookie where you’ll be sitting.”
Hoseok heads to each respective table with his gifts in hand. When he had left his apartment, he had applauded himself in picking out the perfect gift bag size but putting his gift next to Taehyung’s has smarted him a bit, but no one spoils Jimin like Taehyung does.
Hoseok heads towards the third table, where the younger stands with a thick, large clipboard in hand.
Jungkook makes sound effects as he scans over the contents of the clipboard. “You’ll be sitting at table two with our half-birthday boy, myself, Tae-hyung, Jin, Joon-hyung, and Yoongi.”
Oh thank god for the last one.
For this event, Hoseok had researched many conversation topics such as but not limited to climate change, circus elephant deaths, train crashes, and species of whales. Not that he thought most of them would be relevant, but to each their own, he supposes.
“You’re in the chair next to Yoongi.” Jungkook reads off the paper. He points to the table. “That one.”
Hoseok squints as he looks. He should have brought his glasses. “Which one?”
Jungkook points again. “That one.”
The seat in question is towered over by a bush, as well as surrounded by beds of tulips. In order to sit there, he’s practically in a bush.
Hoseok shrugs. What’s a little more color in his life?
“Go sit, go sit!” the younger male urges. “The sooner I get all these guests seated, the sooner we can eat!”
Hoseok sits next to a hooded Min Yoongi wearing all black. He looks very out of place at this colorful garden party and it makes him chuckle.
“Hi, Yoongi-hyung!” he chirps, taking his seat, which is nearly being swallowed by a bush.
The elder grunts in reply and Hoseok laughs, the action tickling his nose a bit.
“What did you get Jiminie?” Hoseok asks, trying to keep the conversation rolling even though it seems that Hoseok is having a one-sided conversation with himself at this point.
“A gift.” Yoongi murmurs. “It’s over there.” He points over to the gift table.
On the table sits a very elegantly wrapped gift, maybe a box the size of 6x8. It looks … really nice. It’s so Yoongi. Especially with the bow on top.
Hoseok goes to talk but ends up in a coughing fit. God, why in front of Yoongi of all people?!?
“Sorry, hyung.” Hoseok gasps a bit as he finally gets some air in his lungs. “Must’ve choked on air.”
Once he’s finished dying, he sniffles and scans over the table for something he can wipe his nose with. He quickly unravels the napkin sitting on his plate and presses it to his nose, sniffling a few times.
Yoongi looks unimpressed, though he doesn’t say anything and looks away just a moment later.
“Looks like everyone’s here!”
Hoseok glances up from the napkin and his eyes widen. There’s easily a hundred people. And Hoseok can’t believe they’re all gathered for a half birthday of all things.
He spots Taehyung dragging Jimin to the front of the party, but it’s hard to hear Jimin due to lack of a microphone and the sheer amount of people in attendance. Out of the corner of his fuzzy vision (maybe he needs a new contact prescription?), he sees Jimin stamp his foot in that cute, pouty manner.
After about a few minutes of watching Jimin shout to be heard, Hoseok feels his nose start to tickle, only this time, it’s stronger. His breath hitches. Nose, please don’t make too much noise …
Yoongi glances over and Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut to will the sneeze away. Not now. Not here. Not in front of Yoongi.
It’s still coming though, so Hoseok drops his forehead onto the edge of the table and as quickly as he can, he squeezes his nose shut and covers his mouth with a napkin. The sneeze is (thankfully) stifled, but he can feel that it is not the last one. He sneezes again, stifling it as much as he can, but it hurts.
Oh holy moly, Yoongi has seen him at a vulnerable moment. Hoseok is embarrassed. He wants to melt into the bushes and disappear.
“Bless you.” Yoongi murmurs and then looks away, much to Hoseok’s delight once he sits up again. Maybe he’s just lucky.
But as his luck would have it, the tickle in his nose hits him again and it’s so sudden, he can’t even stifle the sneeze this time, snapping forward with the force and smacking his head into the table with a loud “thunk!”
“Hob-ah!” Seokjin shouts from across the table, garnering attention from nearby guests.
Hoseok lets out a wet sniffle. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he’s just so so stuffy. “Sorry, I’b just so so sduffy.”
From next to Seokjin, Namjoon frowns. “Are you getting sick? You should go home and rest if you are.”
Sick? He was fine before coming here. He takes a sip out whoever’s cup was in the middle of the table. At this point, he can’t be more embarrassed than he already is.
“Seok-ah, your eyes are really red.” Yoongi comments, and he’s frowning. Is Hoseok the cause of that???
Hoseok is about to respond when he remembers just how stuffy he is and he knows that whatever he says is just going to come out congested and garbled, so he resorts to shaking his head. It most definitely isn’t convincing. But then he realizes that Yoongi has called him Seok-ah.
Yoongi doesn’t look convinced but he turns back to the front of the party, where Taehyung is calling by table for people to get up for the buffet. Their table is first, probably because Jungkook is going to be sitting with them.
The food probably smells as amazing as it looks, but Hoseok’s nose is too stuffed to be able to smell anything at the moment. He’s about to turn to Yoongi to ask his hyung if he wants to go up together, but in a few seconds, Yoongi has left him in the dust and is heading to the coffee bar.
That makes Hoseok let a small smile spread. Of course his hyung would take a black coffee over whatever floral tea is being offered on the tables.
Seokjin is the first one back at the table and he leans over Hoseok’s shoulder as quietly as possible. “Are you sure you aren’t sick? You sound gross.”
Hoseok is both touched by the concern and offended by his hyung’s last sentence. He sniffles before talking. Maybe he’ll sound clearer. “I promise. I was fi’de whe’d I left. This just started whe’d I got here.”
Namjoon, who returns next, hums thoughtfully before stuffing a roll in his mouth. “Maybe … oh wow this is good. Who brought the rolls?”
“Hobi-hyung did. Did you spread the cinnamon butter on top?” Jungkook says, plopping down at the table with his plate piled high. “Also, Hobi-hyung, you look really bad right now.”
Hoseok presses his napkin to his nose again and dabs. “Thanks.”
“Is it the tulips? The only reason I’m not as bad as you are right now is because I doubled the dose on my allergy meds.” Jungkook explains, then turns back to his plate.
Hoseok stops and thinks. This didn’t start until he got here… and once he got here he was stuffy and sneezing. Oh. Allergies.
He’s folded over by the waist and sneezing again into his poor, abused napkin when Jeongguk rummages in his pocket and pulls out a bottle of his allergy medication. “You might get sleepy though, but I guess that’s better than sneezy.”
Hoseok grabs the bottle with the speed of an addict and has swallowed two by the time Yoongi has returned with a huge, steaming cup of coffee.
“Hey, hyung!”
Yoongi glances at him. “Did you finally take medication?”
Hoseok blinks. “You knew?”
“Well, it was kind of obvious. Didn’t realize you didn’t know.”
Looking back on it, Hoseok realizes it was kind of obvious, what with the way he’s literally sitting in a bush and crushing a bed of flowers but perhaps he was too smitten with Yoongi to even realize, but he finds that he doesn’t even care anymore. Now he won’t be the embarrassment of the party.
***************
“Should I wake him?”
“No, this is the funniest shit I’ve seen all day!”
☕️ for the double whump prompts with namgi? Namjoon as the caretaker, yoongi sickie c:
~not-quite-a-lurker
double-whump prompts (round #2)
☕️ Yoongi is sick and Namjoon makes him hot tea. Yoongi accidentally spills the hot liquid all over himself.
word count: 1,048
Namjoon has never really felt at ease in a kitchen before. In fact, it’s quite the opposite– he’d rather be anywhere else, any other room that has less utensils and less appliances and less knives– but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Currently, he’s trying to make tea. He has made tea a time or two in his life, but usually under supervision and usually, someone else ends up taking over. Today, there’s no one to take over. He’s on his own.
The electric kettle is easy enough to operate: fill with water, plug into the outlet, push the button to start.
The mugs are easy enough to find; he only chips off a teeny tiny bit of ceramic when he pulls one out of the cabinet.
The tea is a little harder to find, but there’s less risk involved and he’s able to find the exact kind Yoongi requested.
When he gets to the point of pouring boiling water into the mug, Namjoon just tries to remember everything Seokjin-hyung had taught him, going slow enough so he doesn’t spill any of it. Then, it’s a matter of carrying the tea out to the living room without spilling it on himself.
The first few steps are precarious; Yoongi coughs out in the living room and it makes Namjoon flinch. Luckily, he’s able to steady himself so he can continue on.
Halfway to the couch, he looks up from the mug to check his pathway is clear, and his eyes land on Yoongi, who’s huddled under a pile of blankets on the couch. Only Yoongi’s face is really visible, flushed pink from the fever and shadowed by the blanket over his head.
Namjoon grins. It shouldn’t be such an adorable sight– Yoongi is sick, after all– but he can’t help but find it that way.
He’s a little too focused on his sick hyung, so he’s not paying the best attention as he approaches the coffee table. His shin collides with the table and Namjoon yelps, tea sloshing around dangerously close to the rim of the mug in his hands. It’s a miracle that none spills out and that Namjoon survives the ordeal with only a stinging shin.
Yoongi watches him through half-closed eyes, thankfully too out of it to register Namjoon’s near fumble. He coughs once, then untangles one of his arms from his blanket cocoon to reach out for the tea.
“Both hands,” Namjoon suggests softly.
It takes a moment for Yoongi to get his other hand free. He swipes at his nose with his fist and then holds both hands out, ready to receive the mug that Namjoon very, very carefully lowers down.
As soon as Yoongi is in possession of the tea, Namjoon huffs out a breath of relief and takes a step back– smacking right back into the coffee table again. He curses under his breath, twisting around so he doesn’t fall on his ass, and stumbles a few steps away as his calf throbs with pain.
“Huh?” Yoongi is squinting at him, the mug of tea cradled against his chest between both hands.
“Nothing,” Namjoon grits out, waving a hand in dismissal. “I’m just gonna go clean up in the kitchen.”
Through the pain-induced tears that are blurring his vision, Namjoon sees Yoongi nod and duck his head to blow across the surface of the tea, apparently oblivious to Namjoon’s injuries.
Namjoon starts making his way back to the kitchen. He’s halfway there when he hears a sharp inhale, followed by a sneeze, followed by a hoarse screech. “Ow!”
Forgetting his own pain instantly, Namjoon spins around and rushes back to Yoongi, mouth opening to ask what’s wrong when he sees it– Yoongi has spilled the tea all over himself, the hot liquid soaking the blankets covering his chest and lap.
“Shit,” Namjoon hisses, grabbing the overturned mug from Yoongi’s lap and nearly chucking it onto the coffee table in his haste. He briefly checks to make sure it remains upright before turning back and tugging the blankets off of Yoongi.
“Shit, hyung, are you okay?” He’s panicking, he knows, but his mind is racing through worst case scenarios– what is he supposed to do for a burn? Should he spend his time searching for how to treat one, or on calling an ambulance?
Yoongi is surprisingly quiet, sitting still as Namjoon tears every last blanket away from him and then starts tugging on the hem of his hoodie.
“Joon,” Yoongi finally rasps once Namjoon has attempted to pull his hoodie off and it’s stuck under his armpits. “What are you doing?”
“We have to act quickly,” Namjoon insists, his hands trembling. “Hyung, are you in a lot of pain?”
“Not there,” Yoongi gets out around a cough. He lifts his arm up and shows Namjoon the back of his hand. “The tea only spilled a little on my hand. Think the blankets got the rest.”
Namjoon looks at Yoongi’s hand, then at his bared stomach, then back at his hand again.
“Oh.” He slowly tugs Yoongi’s hoodie back down. “Right. Thank fuck.”
Yoongi coughs again, turning his head to the side, and curls his arm against his chest. “Hurts,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Just a little.”
“Right, fuck.” Namjoon springs into action again, pulling his phone out of his pocket to search Naver.
Yoongi’s hand has a pink splotch on the back– a first-degree burn, according to Namjoon’s phone.
“We need to run that under cold water,” he reports.
Yoongi’s face scrunches up. “No thank you.” He shivers at the very thought.
“What? You have to.”
Namjoon gently guides Yoongi up, looking past the pout on his face. He leads Yoongi to the kitchen and turns the faucet on as cold as it will go. Yoongi winces when the water hits his skin, shivering against Namjoon’s side, until he determines it’s been long enough and pulls his hand back.
“I think you’re supposed to hold it under longer,” Namjoon protests, but Yoongi sniffles pitifully and glares at him.
Sighing, Namjoon turns off the water. “Fine.”
Yoongi doesn’t waste any time returning to his spot on the couch, but once he’s sitting he frowns at the now-wet pile of blankets next to him.
“I’ll put these in the dryer,” Namjoon offers. “Do you want me to make you more tea?”
“No,” Yoongi replies quickly, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just take a glass of water, maybe?”
Namjoon nods. “You got it. Warm blankets and cold water, coming up.”
I believe in you!!! Fun prompt since you're getting coffee: a bangtannie of your choice is exhausted and running themselves ragged for days, but a deadline is a deadline. They finally, finally find a moment to chill and just want a coffee, but their body has other ideas. (Coffee sick? Falling asleep? Passing out in a conference room? Your pick!)
thank you my sweet friend<3 I love this prompt!
Title: Coffee or Tea?
Word Count: 903
Sickie: Hoseok
Caretaker: Yoongi
“Can we stop and get coffee?” Hoseok hates how low and whiny his voice comes out, clearly not in great condition after so many late nights and long days of working nonstop. He clears his throat, looking hopefully at Yoongi in the driver’s seat– but to his dismay, Yoongi shakes his head.
“Can’t. We’re already late.”
Hoseok nods in understanding and slumps against the door, cheek pressed against the cool window. He could easily fall asleep right here, something he would not normally claim in a moving vehicle.
He’s just barely awake still when Yoongi pulls into a parking space. Rubbing at his eyes, Hoseok unbuckles and gets out of the car. His limbs feel heavy as he follows Yoongi to the elevator, and they ride together in silence up to their floor; Yoongi’s quiet because he’s always quiet, and Hoseok is quiet because his tongue feels too big in his mouth and his throat is dry and there’s the tiny yet annoying beginning of a headache blooming just behind his eyelids.
Time passes both too fast and too slow. Hoseok isn’t sure if he’s keeping up with everything or not, and all he can think about is getting his hands on some coffee at lunchtime.
They end up working through lunchtime.
Hoseok nearly cries when he realizes that their meeting is only halfway through and that they’re nearing the afternoon, and he hasn’t had a single sip of coffee yet today. He pulls out his phone and discreetly sends a text.
Hyung I’m desperate for coffee please cover for me?
He waits until Yoongi glances down at his phone and then clears his throat. “Be right back,” he murmurs, slipping out of his chair and racing towards the door.
Once he’s a free man, Hoseok has to figure out exactly how he’s going to pull off his plan. He can’t exactly show up with coffee when he’s supposed to be in the meeting, but he might not have a choice at this point. He stops short in the hallway and just stands there for a moment, trying to make his brain catch up– how is he going to get his coffee?
It comes to him in a moment of genius. Yoongi has a coffee maker in his studio. And Yoongi’s studio is close.
Before Hoseok knows it, he’s on the elevator to ride down one floor. His feet carry him on autopilot to Yoongi’s studio, and he punches in the code to get in automatically. At least that part of his brain is working.
Yoongi’s studio is the perfect temperature inside and smells like tangerines. Hoseok pauses just inside, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His body instantly feels calmed, the way it always does when he’s in here.
The coffee maker beeps when he turns it on, and he finds what he really hopes is a clean mug sitting next to it.
While he waits for the coffee to brew, Hoseok lies down on the sofa, draping one arm over his eyes. The headache that’s grown almost unbearable at this point pulses in his temples and he groans out loud. He moves his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut until he can feel the ache start to recede just a bit.
The coffee is probably ready by now. It’s been either five minutes or an hour. Hoseok can’t really tell. And for some reason, now he doesn’t really care– not when he’s suddenly feeling so heavy, exhaustion washing over him like a wave.
He can get his much needed coffee in a moment. For now, it’s okay if he just stays on the sofa for a little longer…eyes closed, body melting into the cushions like a weight sinking into water…just for a couple more seconds…
“–Seok?”
Hoseok jerks awake, eyes flying open to meet Yoongi’s worried gaze above him.
“Hng?”
“Shit, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Yoongi breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “What are you doing?”
Hoseok blinks up at him. Yoongi’s hair is falling into his eyes a little, and Hoseok has the urge to brush it away. He reaches up–
“What?” Yoongi catches his wrist, concern and amusement warring in his expression. “Are you– oh.”
Yoongi’s fingers squeeze his wrist. His other hand hovers above his head. “You’re really warm.” His palm settles on Hoseok’s forehead and he bites his lower lip. “You feeling okay?”
Hoseok’s mouth opens, closes. “Coffee,” he blurts out, eyes going wide. “I made coffee.”
A startled huff of laughter bursts out of Yoongi. “You’ve been missing for an hour and you’re still worried about your coffee?”
Sitting up, Hoseok looks around wildly. “An hour? No, I just needed…I wanted to…”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Yoongi’s hands settle on his shoulder. “You can have coffee another day.”
He pushes against Hoseok’s shoulder and Hoseok is too tired to do anything but go with it, falling back onto the sofa.
“I think I’ll make you some tea though,” Yoongi adds, tilting his head to one side and he takes in Hoseok’s pale face. “You just rest, okay?”
Hoseok wants to protest, to sit back up, but then Yoongi’s fingers are carding through his hair and his eyes close against his will, and sleep pulls him right back under without a second thought.
When he wakes again, Yoongi is waiting with a steaming mug of chamomile tea.
I think last night, you were driving circles around me
Title: I think last night, you were driving circles around me
Word Count: 2,526
Summary: For forty-eight years, Taehyung has been alone, eternally bound to the place he was murdered– his own home. A ghost lives a lonely life, but the man who moves into his house might be even lonelier.
A/N: once upon a time I wrote a somewhat similar concept of human jk + ghost tae in which jk gets sick from being cold, but this story is pretty different. it is a sickfic but has a lot of angst, no true caretaker, and a bit of an unresolved ending (please see content warning below for other stuff). I’m working through things or whatever.
title from the song Your Ghost by Greg Laswell
CW: reference to past abuse, past murder, dead main character (ghost), angst, hurt/no comfort, non consensual touching (not in a sexual nature), unresolved ending, illness, sad/lonely characters
The mailbox in front of the house at the end of the street has been bent in half for decades.
Taehyung remembers very vividly the day his husband had taken a crowbar to it when he’d come home early and checked the mail before Taehyung could; he hadn’t been very happy to learn Taehyung had signed up for a bimonthly Vogue magazine subscription with what was supposed to be his monthly allowance. His husband had of course withheld the next three months’ allowance to repair the mailbox. But it was never fixed, and the mailman never once questioned it when he had to set the mail on top of the mailbox instead of inside of it.
It’s no longer used. Hasn’t been, in forty-eight years now. Taehyung has only seen someone come and inquire about repairing it one time, but a hushed conversation with a concerned neighbor had that particular interested buyer hurrying back to their car with their disgruntled realtor in tow.
No one else dares to try to sell the house after that.
Apparently, people aren’t too keen to move into a “haunted” house. Taehyung can only hear the conversations when he opens the window; he’s trapped inside this home now. He’s all alone. He’d like to think he’d be a friendly housemate, if someone were to want to move in some day, but there isn’t anyone brave enough to see for themselves.
Until one day, there is.
The human that moves into Taehyung’s house is lovely to look at. Taehyung stands in the foyer to greet him when he moves his belongings in, carrying box after box and stacking it neatly in the sitting room until it’s full. He chats excitedly with the human for the entire six hours it takes him to move in, pretending as though the human can hear him and is reciprocating his conversation.
Taehyung looks at the paperwork sitting out on the kitchen counter the next morning. Jeon Jungkook. That’s this handsome man’s name, and Taehyung likes the way it rolls off his tongue. He says it out loud as he roams through the downstairs in his usual path. Walking the same route seven times over a day– a ritual he’d long since adopted to keep himself from getting too terribly bored– he repeats Jungkook’s name and then his own full name.
Jeon Jungkook. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook. Kim Taehyung.
“If I could still move things around, please know that I would have never allowed the house to fall into such disrepair,” he tells Jungkook as the man inspects the house little by little, making notes on a little pad of paper.
Taehyung reads those too, over Jungkook’s shoulder.
master bedroom– new window (check HomeFixIt for prices)
spackle for walls
tighten bathroom cabinets
banister– new balusters (check HomeFixIt for prices)
Though he has no clue what a HomeFixIt is, Taehyung agrees that the banister will certainly need new balusters. Most of them had been broken when Taehyung’s husband pushed him down this very flight of stairs, after all.
The mailbox goes on the list, too. To Taehyung’s surprise, a brand new one is delivered the very next day in a large box on the front porch. When Jungkook opens it, Taehyung admires the shiny mailbox, and finds himself longing to check the mail one last time.
Oh, how he’d taken such things for granted.
After Jungkook installs the new mailbox, he retreats to the place he’s been spending most of his time since moving in: his bed. He’s not usually just sleeping there, but rather lying down, sometimes with his eyes closed and sometimes staring up at the water-damaged ceiling.
Watching another human sleep isn’t something Taehyung has done in such a long time. He’s almost taken aback by how much movement and sound is involved; the tossing and turning, the heavy breathing and sometimes light snoring.
And then there’s the warmth that lingers on the bedsheets long after Jungkook gets up, so inviting that Taehyung almost doesn’t know what to do with it. For years, he’s spent his days wandering throughout this house in complete silence. Years of a coldness that doesn’t feel cold anymore. Years of watching the sunlight move across the floor in the same patterns, over and over, while the seasons outside keep passing by without him.
Taehyung has become very used to the silence and the loneliness that comes with it; now Jungkook is here, but while the silence is a little less, the loneliness seems to hurt a little more.
Jungkook spends a lot of time on his handheld phone, calling someone who never answers. He’s alone in life, with no partner to live with, but Taehyung supposes that must not have always been the case; a small photo appears on the screen of his phone when he dials the same number every night– sometimes two or three times in a row– of Jungkook cheek-to-cheek with another man.
There’s an upstairs loop that Taehyung likes to complete every evening before nightfall– up and down each hallway twice, through each room once, and then a quick check up in the attic, where he then stays for a bit of time. It’s up there that he used to hide away from his husband during the screaming fits and drunken rages.
Even on the warmest of days, the upstairs windows frost over by the time he’s done with his nightly course.
Jungkook hates it. He hates to be cold even the slightest bit, it seems, and spends a lot of time complaining about it. As a result, he wears a lot of layers of clothing. He mostly wears big hooded sweaters with sleeves that go past his hands.
“Why is it always so fucking cold in here?” Jungkook grumbles, sniffling as a shiver runs down his spine.
“Ah, sorry. That’s me.” Taehyung smiles. “It’s just really nice to have someone else here to spend time with,” he tells Jungkook, watching in slight horror as Jungkook’s sweater-covered hand comes up to swipe at his now-runny nose.
Taehyung steps on a particularly creaky floorboard, and Jungkook’s head snaps up, as if he’s able to hear it. Taehyung experimentally shifts his weight back and forth, but the floorboard doesn’t make any further sounds.
“Did you hear me?” He asks, but Jungkook is staring down at his phone now, looking sad.
He must be standing a little too close, because it makes Jungkook start shivering anew, so he retreats to the attic for the evening, a little bit of disappointment settling in his chest.
A big thunderstorm rolls through the next day when Jungkook is out on a jog.
Taehyung misses him. He had spent a while watching Jungkook change into his t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sneakers before stretching methodically on the floor of the bedroom. Watching the street from the attic window now, Taehyung wonders where it is he jogged off to once he turned around the corner, and when he’ll be back.
It takes nearly two hours for Jungkook to return. When he steps through the front door, he’s soaking wet from the rain and shaking like a leaf.
Waiting for him in the foyer, Taehyung has such a physical urge to draw him into an embrace that he walks forward and opens his arms before remembering he can’t.
“Goodness, you’re shivering. Go get yourself a towel and dry off,” he instructs, even though Jungkook can’t actually hear him.
Jungkook does not get himself a towel. He doesn’t even put a kettle on for tea. He simply goes into the living room and crouches down in front of the fireplace, his hands trembling as he puts wood into the firebox. He builds a fire, curses at how little it does to actually warm the room, and then spends a lot of his time on his phone researching how much money it costs to replace a “shitty 1970s fireplace”.
Taehyung scoffs at that. He’ll be damned if someone wants to take out that fireplace when he remembers so well the day it was installed; if Taehyung had to be the punching bag for his husband’s project-fueled rage, even after he offered to help so many times, then the very least Jungkook can do is be grateful he has a fireplace at all.
“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t change out of those wet clothes,” Taehyung warns, sitting on the armchair with his legs crossed.
Jungkook sneezes, and then stomps off to hopefully get changed, and Taehyung sidles up to the fireplace with a sigh.
The rain lasts all day, and into the night, where it’s joined by thunder and lightning. The thunder rattles the windows and leaves Jungkook on edge. He walks around the house wrapped up in a comforter that drags behind him, and jumps a little with every clap of thunder.
It’s still raining the next morning, too. Taehyung perches on a still-unpacked moving box in the sitting room and watches it come down in endless sheets. The rain always makes him feel a bit melancholy. The thing he likes about the rain, though, is the endless noise it creates– the tapping against the windows, the plinking against the roof, the dripping against the pavement outside.
Sometime during the storm, Taehyung hears Jungkook swearing. It’s the middle of the night. He drifts into the bedroom and sees Jungkook sitting up in bed, glaring at the ceiling.
“Fucking leaky roof,” Jungkook curses, shivering. There’s a big wet spot on his bed now.
All of Jungkook’s obscenities send a thrill down Taehyung’s spine. He reminds Taehyung a little of his husband, sometimes– big and broad-shouldered and muscular, with a short temper and a brooding gaze. But Jungkook doesn’t even kill spiders, and he fixes the holes in the walls instead of making them. Taehyung has only seen him interact with one human who came to deliver and install a TV, and Jungkook had only spoken to greet the man and then thank him before he left.
As Taehyung predicted, Jungkook comes down with a head cold over the next couple of days. Whether it's from his jog in the rain or his leaky roof, Taehyung isn’t quite sure. He watches the progression of Jungkook getting sick like it’s an episode of a show; he can see it quite easily, but it seems to take Jungkook a while to notice, and then even longer to admit.
“There might still be a bottle of Contac in the medicine cabinet,” Taehyung offers, forgetting that Jungkook ripped out the old medicine cabinet when he first moved in and it had been completely empty anyway.
He’s mildly disgusted by the way Jungkook refuses to use tissues, instead using his sleeve– or worse, his hand. Eventually, he carries a roll of toilet paper around with him, but that just makes Taehyung sad for Jungkook’s poor nose. Of course, Taehyung hasn’t been ill for over fifty years now, so it’s possible the toilet paper is softer these days.
The symphony of Jungkook’s coughs and sneezes fill the air as persistently as the rain. The consistent sounds are even more satisfying than the rain, though, for they are human-made. Taehyung listens and smiles and frowns all at the same time. He can’t do anything to ease Jungkook’s symptoms, nor does Jungkook seem keen on doing anything for himself.
Finally, after a couple of days of misery, Jungkook gets medicine delivered to him. It comes right to the front porch and not to the brand new mailbox out front. Jungkook doesn’t seem to leave the house for anything, not even grocery shopping.
It seems clear as day that Jungkook has a fever, but for some reason he wonders it aloud multiple times: “Fuck, I must be running a fever,” he mutters while he shivers under a pile of blankets on the sofa. That’s how Taehyung learns that Jungkook doesn’t even own a glass thermometer.
“You should at least be in bed resting,” he suggests, kneeling in front of the fireplace and wishing he could stoke it so that Jungkook doesn’t have to get up to do it himself.
Eventually, Jungkook does go to bed. He sits upright, propped up against his pillows and the headboard, and sneezes his head off while the rain picks up again outside.
“You really need some Vicks for that congestion,” Taehyung tuts.
When Jungkook’s fever seems to be the highest, Taehyung stands at the foot of the bed, listening to the sounds of him whimpering and sniffling. His teeth chatter with every shudder that runs through him, and his skin is flushed, radiating heat like a furnace.
God, how Taehyung longs for some of that warmth.
He watches Jungkook reach for his phone, as if he might call someone, but in the end he doesn’t. Taehyung thinks maybe he’s given up on trying to reach the person in the photo.
Curling up on his side, Jungkook starts to cry. A sad cry, and a sick cry, and together the sound is devastating.
“There, there,” Taehyung soothes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He settles his palm across Jungkook’s forehead, holding it there until Jungkook sniffles himself to sleep.
Taehyung hasn’t laid down in a bed for so, so long.
Jungkook’s sheets are soft against his spectral body. He can’t feel them in the same sense he used to, but rather by a memory he drags up from somewhere deep. As Jungkook sleeps, Taehyung runs his hands along the sheets, and then along Jungkook’s arms, up the side of his fever-heated face.
An hour later, with a shuddering gasp, Jungkook wakes again with tears already on his cheeks. He thrashes about, and Taehyung wraps his arms around him, unable to truly hold. Jungkook sobs and shivers violently and Taehyung sings a lullaby he remembers from his childhood.
When Jungkook’s fever breaks, he drags himself to the shower. Taehyung waits in the bedroom. Once, he would’ve been able to change the bedding and freshen up the place a bit. For Jungkook, he thinks he would be doing it out of care and not out of fear.
Jungkook changes the sheets himself once he returns. He’s shaky and sluggish, but he makes the bed and climbs back under the covers, blowing his nose heartily into a wad of toilet paper.
As he shifts around in an attempt to get comfortable, there’s a loud, creaking sound that comes from the attic. Jungkook looks up at the ceiling in alarm, and Taehyung’s gaze follows for a moment before he looks back at Jungkook.
“You heard that?” He asks.
Jungkook seems to be frozen in fear, listening for more sounds, but it’s quiet after that.
Sighing, Taehyung stands from the end of the bed and paces a little, glancing upward. “Don’t worry,” he tells Jungkook with a small chuckle. “That’s just my husband. You don’t think I’m the type to go out without a fight, do you?”
Jungkook closes his eyes.
“No,” Taehyung concludes, lying down next to Jungkook on the bed again. “I don’t believe you are.”
Notes: A sweet anon asked for this prompt with J.Hope, another for Suga. And thus this happened. It's short, it's relatively incomplete, but this was the idea, and nothing more was happening for it, so I hope it's still enjoyable!
When Hoseok rolled awake at 2am, every muscles aching and the air itself feeling dangerously warm, he knew he was fucked. The dancer groaned, digging his face further into his too warm, suspiciously moist pillow (and immediately cringing back because ew.) Hoseok had done his best to fight against Taehyung’s puppy dog eyes, to not give into the younger man’s pitiful request for company and cuddles when Hoseok had so kindly showed up at his door with soup and ice cream to support Taehyung in his current battle with the flu. Naturally, he’d failed miserably. And now he was sick. In the wee hours of the morning on the day of Hoseok’s friendship celebration with Yoongi.
It was his idea to call it a ‘friendship celebration.’ Amidst the craziness of their schedules, Yoongi and Hoseok had realized they hadn’t gotten much quality time together in a few months. So, they blocked out a day in the calendar to do just that. They had some food reservations, activity plans, the works.
And now Hoseok had to spoil all of their fun.
With a dejected groan, Hoseok slapped the nightstands until his fingers found his phone. Squinting against the bright light of the screen, Hoseok shot off a text to Yoongi, asking for a raincheck. The second it was sent, Hoseok’s head hit the pillow again, falling into an uneasy sleep, phone lost in the folds of his blankets.
*
At 3:20am, when Yoongi finally pulled his head off of the toilet seat after laying there in a nauseous fugue for God knew how long, he knew he was fucked. He’d woken up sometime after 1am with an urgent twisting in his stomach that had lead to at least two rounds of vomiting up everything he’d ever consumed (could’ve even been three rounds, Yoongi genuinely didn’t remember where one bout ended and another began). Curse Seokjin for coming over for dinner after filming a variety show with children. There was no other explanation for it; Yoongi hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary, and hadn’t been around any other sick people, to his knowledge. Besides, this didn’t feel like food poisoning. Yoongi felt hot, sticky, achy, obviously feverish in a way that meant ‘flu’ rather than ‘bad fish.’
Swallowing thickly, stomach settled for the briefest of moments, Yoongi pulled himself up on shaking knees and grabbed his phone from the counter. He’d managed to stumble back to his room for the device about an hour before, and now opened his messaging app to shoot Hoseok a cancellation notice. Yoongi felt a stab of pain shoot through his chest. This was going to crush Hoseok. He’d been so looking forward to this day… honestly, Yoongi had too.
But there was no way Yoongi was going anywhere today. So he sent a message to Hoseok with trembling fingers before curling up on the bathroom floor, two towels serving as a pillow and a blanket, as he settled in for what was likely going to be a looooong night.
*
Hoseok woke around noon to his phone buzzing on his nightstand. Eyes half closed, he grabbed the device and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?” Hoseok cringed at the sound of his own voice.
“Are you mad at me?”
The genuine worry in Yoongi’s voice woke Hoseok up just enough to focus through the fever haze. “Yoongi? What? Why would I…?”
“You never texted me back.” Was Yoongi… was he crying?
Hoseok propped himself up on his elbow. “Yoongi, what are you talking about?”
A sharp sniffle from the other end. “I texted you this morning to cancel for today, and you never said anything.”
Hoseok paused, confusion rushing him full force. “Wait, wait, wait. No. I texted you to cancel.”
“No, I texted you.”
“Yoongi, I’m positive I messaged you.”
“No you…” The other end of the line went silent. “Oh.” Another pause. “I didn’t see that… how did I miss that?”
“I don’t know,” Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair as he collapsed back against his pillow. “But, to be fair, I didn’t see your message either. I haven’t looked at my phone all day. I’m very not well.”
“Same here, bub.” Yoongi blew out a long breath. “Are we dumb?”
“I mean, yeah. But I think we can blame it on the flu right now.”
Notes: OH MY GOD I DIDN'T THINK I DISAPPEARED FOR SO LONG. I'm so so sorry about that, especially after promising and promising I was writing ... and I know there are SOOOO many wonderful things I still have to read and comment on, which I absolutely plan to in the next few days. I did disappear due to high amount of schoolwork (wow, who would've thought college is WORK LOLLL) and I've had lots of doctors appointments and planning (very overdue, and apparently now I have like 3-5 chronic conditions) but I really love all the prompts for sicktember (even though its October LOL) and will finish every single one of them no matter how long it takes omg. If you got this far into reading, thank you and hope your day is at least going ok!!
“Jiminie,” Hoseok shouts, his already loud voice nearly deafening in the morning, “time to wake up! We have dance class today!”
Now, Jimin loves his roommate. They both started as roommates in a random match during freshman year, Hoseok having taken a gap year due to health issues, but taking classes now that his condition is more manageable, and now in junior year, they had continued to be roommates. It was easy to like Hoseok. He’s caring, sweet, funny, the absolute definition of the parent friend, and it also helped that they were both dance majors.
But this is the first time in his life that Jimin has wished that Hoseok wasn’t so pert in the mornings. And really, how is one so awake at ass o’clock in the morning?
A quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s almost eight in the morning but still, who is really functioning until at least noon?
“Hobi-hyung, I think I’m sick.” Jimin tries even though he, in fact, is not sick and just tired from gaming all night. He just wants another few minutes, or hours, in bed.
Jimin almost feels bad when Hoseok immediately drops his dance bag onto the floor with a loud clang (probably his almost three-pound-each-sneakers) and immediately heads over to his side and feels his forehead. His Hyung looks really concerned. But he supposes Hoseok was the one to sign them up for an eight AM class. Maybe he should play into this whole sick thing.
He exaggerates a fake but loud cough. “I’ve been coughing all night. I’m exhausted.” And then he rasps, “I think I’m losing my voice too.”
Hoseok coos. “Oh, my poor Jiminie. Lay here. I’ll go make you some tea.”
And just as quickly as he came, Jimin is now left with his own thoughts. Does he feel bad for lying? Yes. That is a thought that occurs to him.
But sleep.
Which means that the next few hours are bliss. He lays in bed with Hoseok waiting on his hands and knees for him (though he tells Hoseok to actually get off his knees because Hoseok has bony knees so he knows kneeling hurts his hyung. Jimin is cruel today, but not that cruel)
Later on, while Hoseok is in the kitchen making more tea, Jimin’s phone starts to buzz.
“Yeobseyo?” he answers, flipping onto his back and his phone pressed to his ear.
“Jiminie?” Taehyung’s voice vibrates through his ear, making him shiver at the deepness of it. “Are we still meeting for lunch today? I really hope we are, because I just picked up my shirt from the dry cleaners.”
His brow furrows. “Dry cleaners? We’re literally going to McDonald’s.”
Rich people, his brain supplies, so he leaves it at that. Last year Taehyung had gotten bored and with his allowance money he had been saving since the age of seven, had bought a Panda Express location in America, bringing in a quick thousand dollars, which has only grown since then.
“So we’re still meeting?”
Balancing a tray with soup and meds in one hand and holding a mug of tea with the other, Hoseok uses his (socked and clean) foot to nudge down on the door handle.
Instead of his sweet, sick Jiminie, he’s met with the younger dancer laughing loudly with his phone pressed to his ear and kicking his feet up and down like he does when he’s happy.
“Okay!” Jimin says loudly. “I’ll meet you at McDonalds in an hour. I just have to convince Hoseok-hyung that I’m ...”
His voice trails off and his eyes widen in horror when he sees that Hoseok is standing next to him. “Oh shit.” he mumbles and then hangs up. His voice goes raspy again. “Tae is taking me to the doctor ...?”
But he’s lying. And Hoseok feels hurt by it. All this to escape an early class?
“Jimin, you’re not really sick, are you.” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady. He can’t show weakness to a man-child, especially not now. He was lied to? How could his sweet Jiminie do this to him.
At least now, Jimin looks remorseful. “I’m sorry, Hobi-hyung. Believe it or not, I’m not actually sick. I just didn’t want to go to class. It’s too early.”
Too early? By the time they have to leave for class, Hoseok has already done a load of towels, his white clothing, most of his darks, studied for whatever test he has the week after, made breakfast for him and Jimin, practiced his routines, and swept the floors. (Typical upstairs neighbor behavior)
“How could an 8AM be too early?” he chokes out, still feeling betrayed.
Jimin frowns and looks down. “I’m sorry, Hobi-hyung. I made you miss class and take care of me.”
Then he adds, “It really won’t happen again.”
Hoseok sighs, unsure now, but ultimately deciding to give his roommate a second chance. “Okay.”
It’s a week since what they’ve dubbed “The Incident” (though there’s so many incidents with other people that they should probably change the name) and though Jimin never wants to see that look on his hyung’s face ever again, there is no way he is going to that vegan restaurant with Hoseok. First of all, Hoseok isn’t even vegan??? He’s seen Hoseok at an all you can eat, and that man wouldn’t become vegan if his life depended on it. And second of all, the only reason Jimin was needed is because Hoseok was too scared to go up to the cashier and order food.
So of course he does the only thing he knows how to do to get out of it.
“Hobi-hyung, I’m so sorry. My stomach hurts really badly. I think I put too much cheese in my ramyeon earlier. This dairy is killing me.”
Hoseok frowns, looking a little suspicious, especially after last week’s events. “Maybe you just need medicine?”
Jimin internally sighs. He’s going to have to play into this a little more. “Maybe. I took some a couple minutes ago, and it still hasn’t kicked in.”
His hyung seems a little more convinced now. “Oh, poor Jiminie. Do you want me to grab you a heating pad?”
“I’ll get it. I’m about to-”
He fake gags and hops off his chair, rushing to the bathroom to “throw up.” Hoseok wouldn’t follow him, hating just the thought of it.
“I’ll go by myself.” Hoseok squeaks and a moment later, the door slams shut.
Immediately, Jimin feels bad but then he thinks of the vegan cheese he could be eating instead and suddenly, pretending to vomit doesn’t seem so bad after all.
His little stunt probably bought him at least an hour or two (since Hoseok is now going alone, it’ll probably take him at least 20 minutes to talk himself into going up to the counter to order and then he’ll probably take a good few minutes to take pictures of the food before eating and then the pictures of himself eating) so Jimin exits the bathroom and throws himself onto the couch.
The next hour passes like that. At some point he gets up from his little couch nest and grabs a pint of ice cream from the freezer and he’s halfway through an episode of whatever show he had been streaming when the front door slams open and Hoseok’s loud voice echoes through the room. “Jiminie, you’’ll never guess who-”
And it’s like deja vu. Hoseok stops in his tracks and stares wide-eyed at him. “I thought you were having a dairy reaction.”
Jimin winces. “I was? But then I figured once I was done throwing up that ... ice cream would make it better?”
Hoseok sniffles and looks as though he’s been punched in the gut, which he has before and Jimin never “How could you keep lying to me?”
Well ...
Hoseok turns around. “I can’t be here right now. I need another veggie wrap.”
The next morning, at around 6 AM, Jimin wakes up feeling god-awful. There is no way that after all of that, he’s actually sick now.
After a hard debate on whether to get out of bed or not, he decides to stay in bed, which results in him falling back asleep almost immediately. Maybe the yuckiness would go away by the time he woke up again.
Except an hour and a half later, Hoseok is now shaking him awake. “Jiminie, we have class soon.”
“Ugh.” he groans, feeling as though a horse and carriage has run him over. “Hobi-hyung, I can’t go to class. I’m not feeling well.”
His heart falls as Hoseok’s face contorts, not into an expression of disgust, but one of disappointment, of one who’s been lied to one too many times this week. And Jimin doesn’t blame him, no, he would never blame his hyung for something he brought upon himself but right now, Jimin feels like shit.
“Hobi-hyung, I promise I don’t feel good this time. I wouldn’t lie again.”
He really wouldn’t, because his head aches too much to even think about lying. How he feels right now is something akin to how he feels after going to one of Jackson’s parties. Tired and sore.
Hoseok still looks unsure. “Jimin-ah, the class. Y’know, we can’t keep skipping it.”
Jimin is frustrated now. Why won’t Hoseok believe him. He feels tears building up in his eyes and coupled with the pounding headache, it’s making him feel sicker. He just wants a warm hug and he wishes he never lied to his hyung because this type of karma is just cruel. Maybe Hoseok cursed him or something while he was sleeping. He wouldn’t blame him if he did.
“Jimin?” Hoseok asks in a quiet voice. “Please don’t cry.”
He’s crying?
The next moment, there’s a cool hand on his forehead and the bed dips down slightly as Hoseok sits next to him. “You do have a fever this time.”
“I’m sorry, Hobi-hyung!” Jimin cries, ignoring the burning of his throat as he does so. “I swear I’ll never lie to you again! Please uncurse me or something!”
“Curse?” Hoseok’s head tilts to the side in that cute way he does when he’s confused and doesn’t understand something. “Why would I curse you?”
“Because I lied to you so many times! Honestly, I would curse me if I were you.”
Hoseok lets out a loud laugh which does not help at all for Jimin’s headache, but he would never say so because he loves Hoseok’s laugh. “Minnie, I don’t even understand the rules of Monopoly. How would I even know how to curse someone?”
“I don’t know, Harry Potter or something? It’s possible!”
Hoseok lets out another loud chuckle, then seems to calm himself. “Now, you need to rest for that fever to go away. You go back to sleep, and I’ll bring you some tea when you wake up, okay?”
Jimin nods, relieved that he’s cleared things up with his hyung. “Okay. Thank you, hyung. I love you.”
Well don’t worry! I’m still writing I just had sooo many assignments pile up in the past few days but I’m done so I plan on writing a lot tonight!!! (Also my roommate went to hang out with people tonight soooo i’m free and don’t have to hide my computer screen!)
More updates:
How did people even graduate college??? I’m literally three weeks in and this is NOT it
I have a stalker!!!! (if this guy doesn’t quit it i might just AHHHH)
If anyone knows how to deal with a stalker pls let me know!!! Or maybe i should explain in more detail cus it’s stalking but also … not??? Idk how to explain it honestly
thank you everyone for the concern! in the past week I think I chased him off - there was a club fair event thing and idk HOW he spotted me out of a crowd of maybe 400 especially because I said I probably wasn't going but he did and I think he tried to get a little ... touchy??? and I ran away and he hasn't talked to me since so I think that's good!!!
A/N: this is set in a not yet posted post-apocalypse universe I’ve titled “chickens”, in which Jungkook lives on a farm but is allergic to his chickens (and most of the other animals). I can’t wait to share the whole fic with you someday, and I’m really excited that someone requested this specific prompt with this specific universe because it just fits so perfectly :)
When Namjoon wakes up, it’s dark outside and the farmhouse is quiet. It’s a different kind of quiet than what he’s used to– because while quiet is almost always a good thing these days, it’s also an eerie norm that he’s still not used to.
Jungkook’s house is quiet in an almost peaceful way.
Namjoon stops to check on the others briefly, though they’re all still asleep, and then he makes his way down the hall.
He finds Jungkook sitting in the kitchen in the near dark. There’s only one lamp on in the corner behind him, but it illuminates the space on the table in front of him. Jungkook is pulling a needle and thread through a small piece of fabric, sewing something with an intense look of concentration on his face.
“Hey,” Jungkook greets him softly without looking up. His voice sounds hoarse, distorted by slight congestion.
“Hey.”
Pausing only for a brief moment to dab at his nose with the back of his wrist, Jungkook sews three more stitches before he finally sets his project down and looks up.
“Oh, I’m so sorry about the dark,” he says, standing to walk over to turn on the lightswitch. “I’m used to being here alone.”
Namjoon watches him walk around and turn on a few more lights, a few lamps out in the other room. His heart rate speeds up at the thought of having so many lights on all at once, increasing the chance to be seen– but then, that’s how they’d found Jungkook in the first place.
Warm lights on the horizon, like a beacon.
With a smile on his face, Jungkook sits back down at the kitchen table and begins to put away all of his sewing things into a small plastic bin. In the increased light, Namjoon can see that his eyes are red. He wonders if Jungkook has been crying, or if it’s due to his allergies still.
“Dinner is on the stove. It’s ready whenever you’re hungry.”
Namjoon glances over to the stove and sees a large pot on the stovetop. Next to the oven, two loaves of bread are sitting on the counter, and judging by the delightful scent wafting through the air Namjoon assumes they’re freshly baked.
It has been a long, long time since they’ve had food that’s not from a can or a pouch or a box, or not cooked over a hurried fire. Namjoon can’t remember the last time he ate a baked good– and a fresh, homemade one at that. He stands there in awe, just staring at the stove, for what feels like an eternity. He wonders what’s in the pot. He wonders if he’s dreaming.
Jungkook breaks the silence with a soft sneeze and a wet sniffle. Even though Jungkook doesn’t ask for anything, Namjoon finds himself striding over to grab a dishcloth from the drawer he’d seen Jungkook open earlier. He brings it back to the table.
“Bless you,” he murmurs, holding the dishcloth out.
Jungkook looks almost surprised as he takes it and lifts it up to his face. “Thank you.”
He rubs at one eye, then the other, both turning an even more irritated red– and then he does the same to his nose. Namjoon fights back the urge to do anything more. He bites his lower lip and glances away while Jungkook blows his nose.
When he hears Jungkook sneeze once more, the sound so quiet that it’s almost a whisper, Namjoon looks back at him.
“We can’t just eat your food and sleep in your beds,” he blurts out. His voice echoes a little too loudly throughout the house. “We don’t…we don’t have anything to repay you with.”
Jungkook smiles and sets the dishcloth down on the table. “That’s alright,” he replies. There’s the same easy kindness in his voice as earlier, the same sadness in his eyes. “I don’t mind. Just having someone else’s company for even one night is more than enough.”
A/N: I also added a lil bit of caretaker Jungkook.
thank you to whoever sent this one in, it's one of my favorites of the fics this month!
Kim Seokjin is the most annoying person on the entire planet.
Yoongi can’t stand him. He can’t stand a single thing about the man– which is very unfortunate considering they’re coworkers.
In a perfect world, Yoongi would simply avoid Seokjin at work. But perfection is unattainable, and fate is unavoidable, and now they’re partnered together on a project all because Seokjin couldn’t keep his mouth shut about how funny it would be if he and Yoongi worked together.
Ugh.
Yoongi is fucking over Kim Seokjin.
He hates that he’s even thinking about Seokjin as he goes into work on Monday morning. Monday mornings should be reserved for drinking coffee and mourning the loss of the weekend, but instead he’s dreading walking into the office and seeing Seokjin already sauntering around cracking obnoxious jokes, or laughing obnoxiously at said jokes, or goofing off obnoxiously as he gets his fifth cup of coffee of the day.
But Seokjin isn’t sauntering around the office cracking obnoxious jokes, or laughing obnoxiously at said jokes, or goofing off obnoxiously as he gets his sixth cup of coffee of the day.
No, he’s not doing any of that.
Instead, he’s sitting at his desk. Actually sitting in his desk chair, facing his laptop– except his laptop is closed, and Seokjin’s head is in his hands, his shoulders all hunched over.
Yoongi stops short. Something is not right, and something way too close to worry fills his chest.
Not that he could ever let Seokjin know that.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Seokjin groans loudly and turns around halfway, waving one hand dismissively. “Go away, Yoongi-ssi.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Yoongi repeats, stepping closer instead when Seokjin leans over to rest his cheek on his desk.
“It’s…a really terrible disease. There’s no known cure.”
“He has a cold!” A voice chirps from Yoongi’s left. He looks over to see the intern– Jungho? Jongkook?– peering at him with wide, curious eyes. “So, technically, he’s right that there’s no known cure!”
Seokjin lifts his head and squints. “Scram, Jungkookie!”
“I have your medicine,” Jungkook replies without blinking. “The liquid kind, ‘cause you can’t swallow the big pills–”
“Jungkook!” Seokjin’s voice cracks pathetically. “Just– bring it here, then.”
Yoongi watches in shock as Jungkook carries a huge canvas shopping tote over to Seokjin’s desk and begins emptying it out. There are several bottles of medicine, three boxes of tissues, a six-pack of electrolyte drink and a large bag of tangerines.
“Thank you,” Seokjin whispers hoarsely.
Jungkook puts his hand across Seokjin’s forehead. He chews on his bottom lip and he looks about two seconds away from crying or something.
“You’ve got the intern doing your grocery shopping for you?” Yoongi clamps his mouth shut, but the words have already tumbled out.
Jungkook turns and narrows his eyes at Yoongi in what might be a glare. It’s the same exact expression Yoongi’s three-year-old niece gets on her face when her eomma tells her she can’t eat ice cream before supper– including the pink cheeks and pouty lips.
“Easy, Jungkookie,” Seokjin murmurs. “It’s fine.”
Spinning back to face Seokjin, Jungkook drops down into a squat. “You’d be fine if you were at home resting, hyung,” Yoongi hears him say. “I’ll be checking on you in an hour from now.”
Jungkookie. Hyung. Since when have Seokjin and the intern been using such familiar terms with each other?
In a tone so quiet Yoongi is pretty certain he’s not supposed to hear it, Seokjin tells Jungkook, “I’m only here until two. I have an appointment this afternoon. I promise I’ll be fine until then, okay?”
Jungkook nods and takes his now-empty tote bag back. He shoots Yoongi another glare, his nose scrunching up a little too cutely for it to be intimidating, and then turns around and leaves.
After Jungkook is gone, Yoongi doesn’t really know what to do.
He finally makes his way to his desk– right next to Seokjin’s desk, unfortunately– and sits down. He sets his bag down and opens his laptop and starts arranging all of his things just the way he likes them– neat and tidy and organized.
And Seokjin just– sits there. Glassy eyed and red nosed and sad looking.
It’s not right at all.
“Why are you even here?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself.
Seokjin straightens his posture, which visibly takes effort. “Some of us aren’t rich like you, Yoongi-ssi.” He sniffles, the sound congested. “Speaking of,” he mutters as an afterthought, “I don’t know how I’m gonna pay Jungkook back for all of this stuff.”
It takes Yoongi a moment to realize he’s talking about the tissues and other supplies. He thinks about the stack of 50,000 won bills he currently has in his wallet, and before he even registers what’s happening, he opens his mouth and says, “I’ll pay Jungkook.”
“Holy fuck,” Seokjin spits out. “I think I’m running a fever. I swear I just heard you say…” He shakes his head and then leans forward to put his forehead against the surface of his desk. “Fuck…”
Yoongi has never, ever heard Seokjin swear before, so he might actually be right about the fever.
For a moment, both of them are silent. Well, Yoongi is silent. Seokjin is making a strange sound every time he exhales– it’s clear he can’t breathe through his nose.
“I think you should go home,” Yoongi says. “Or literally anywhere else but here. You’re spreading your germs all over the place.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I’m poor?” Seokjin quips back, reaching for one of the boxes of tissues. “I can’t just afford to not work.”
It takes him several attempts to get the box open, and then a full minute to pull one single tissue out. Yoongi shudders at the thought of watching Seokjin use said tissue, so he quickly stands and makes a beeline for the break room so he can get himself a cup of coffee.
When he returns, Seokjin hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting at his desk, looking somehow even more pathetic than before, his cheek resting on his folded arms.
“It’s not like you’re actually going to get any work done anyway,” Yoongi blurts as he sits back down. “Might as well go home and suffer there, where the rest of us don’t have to watch you.”
It occurs to him that Seokjin always arrives before him and leaves after him, so he has absolutely no clue how Seokjin commutes to work. If he drives, there’s no way he’d be able to safely operate a vehicle in his current condition. Maybe he gets a ride from someone. He’s sure Jungkookie knows. Hell, maybe it’s Jungkook who gives him a ride.
“How do you usually get to work?” He asks, because for some reason he hasn’t already learned way too much about Seokjin today.
“I take the bus, of course.”
“Of course.” Yoongi sighs.
He drags a hand down his face. He stares down at his mug of coffee, still steaming hot. He listens to Seokjin’s obnoxious, wheezy, sickly breathing.
And then, he stands up and starts gathering his stuff. “I’ll drive you home then.”
Seokjin doesn’t move an inch. He just stays with his head on his arms and his eyes closed, loudly breathing through his mouth.
Yoongi reaches for his wallet. “Actually, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
It takes an embarrassingly long time for Yoongi to find Jungkook, because he has no clue where the interns actually spend their day. He finally spots him sitting in an empty conference room, typing away on his laptop.
He takes a couple of bills out of his wallet and walks into the conference room.
“Uh, here,” he says, holding the bills out to Jungkook. “For Seokjin’s…stuff.”
Jungkook stares at him like he’s grown a second head.
“He was worrying about paying you back,” Yoongi explains. His cheeks are suddenly warm. “It didn’t seem right for him to worry about that when he’s already so pathetic.”
“Keep your rich Daddy’s money,” Jungkook scoffs. “I don’t need it.”
“My Daddy–? Excuse you, but I’ll have you know that this is my hard-earned money! And my appa died when I was a child, you asshole.”
Jungkook shrugs and crosses his arms. “Okay, you’re not special. Both of my parents are dead and you don’t see me complaining about it.”
Yoongi sputters for a second, his arm still outstretched. “You’re…you’re worse than Seokjin! Who the fuck hired you anyway, Intern?”
“Oh? You think you’re better than me, just because I’m an intern?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “People like you are the reason hell exists.”
Yoongi’s jaw drops open.
“And by the way, my name is Jungkook. Jung. Kook! Not Intern.”
Before Yoongi can respond, an obnoxiously loud sneeze rings through the air no less than a foot away from Yoongi’s right ear, and he jumps a foot in the air.
“Excuse me,” Seokjin sniffles from behind a giant wad of tissues. “Woah, that one was a doozy. I might need to sit down…”
“Hyung!” Jungkook shoves past Yoongi, rushing to Seokjin’s side as he starts to sway back and forth, and grabs him under one arm. “Here, come sit down.”
Jungkook guides Seokjin into the conference room and helps him into a chair. “Did you take some of the medicine? Maybe I should call the doctor and see if we can move your appointment up?”
“No, no,” Seokjin replies dismissively. “I’m fine. I just need to let this small wave of dizziness pass. As long as I don’t sneeze again, I’ll be totally fine.”
“I really think I should take him home,” Yoongi says from the doorway.
Jungkook looks over sharply, a hint of surprise flashing across his face before it’s replaced with anger.
“Like I would trust you to take him home.”
“Okay. Are you able to take him home then?”
Jungkook frowns. “Well, no, I don’t have a car…”
“Jungkookie,” Seokjin whispers. “It’s okay. Yoongi-ssi can take me home.”
“Hyung, he’s a terrible person. A really, really terrible person!”
“Wow, Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin says. He chuckles, which makes him cough weakly. “You got someone as sweet as Jungkookie to call you a terrible person. You must have done something pretty bad to get that. I have to say, I’m impressed. Not surprised, though.”
Sweet? Yoongi bites his tongue to hold back a retort as he watches Jungkook put his hands on Seokjin’s shoulders.
“I’m only agreeing to this because you’re really pale. And because you shouldn’t even be here in the first place.” Jungkook then pulls out his phone. “I’m ordering food to be delivered to your house right now. Don’t forget to take the medicine and tissues with you. Those are a gift, by the way,” he adds, shooting Yoongi another withering glance. “Because I know you’d do the same for me.”
“He’s right,” Seokjin sighs wearily, looking up at Yoongi with eyes that are a little too unfocused. “I have to bring him homemade soup and cough syrup every three months or so because his immune system is nonexistent–”
“Hyung!”
“I mean it, Jungkookie. I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need it. Because you’re a good kid, and you’re precious to me, and the best intern I’ve ever known.”
“That’s the fever talking, hyung,” Jungkook says, a slightly embarrassed yet amused smile on his face.
Yonogi clears his throat. “This is, uh, really heartwarming and all, but I think we should get going now.”
Seokjin nods and stands. Jungkook hovers next to him, eyeing Yoongi distrustfully.
“Text me when you get home,” he says to Seokjin. “After he leaves.”
Seokjin reaches up and pats Jungkook on the top of his head. “Will do. You’re gonna kill it in the meeting today. Good luck.”
Yoongi has no clue what the fuck meeting they’re talking about. He waits for Seokin to say goodbye to Jungkook and then turns to lead him back towards the offices.
At his desk, Seokjin starts shoving things into his bag, pausing when he gets to the medicine. “Guess I should probably take some of this.”
“Right now?” Yoongi asks, resisting the urge to tap his foot impatiently.
“I guess I could just cough and sneeze all over the inside of your car…”
“Fine. Just take it so we can go.”
Seokjin picks at the sealed bottle of liquid medicine. Yoongi can see that his hands are shaking as he tries, unsuccessfully, to open it.
After watching him attempt to get it open for a minute, Yoongi wordlessly grabs the bottle and peels the plastic seal off, then unscrews the lid. He pours a dose into the little cup and hands it over to Seokjin.
“Bottoms up!” Seokjin says with a surprisingly cheery voice before knocking the medicine back like it’s a shot of alcohol.
He starts coughing immediately after.
Yoongi grabs one of the electrolyte drinks still sitting on Seokjin’s desk and opens the lid.
“Here, drink some of this,” he instructs, placing the bottle into Seokjin’s hand.
Seokjin shoots him a grateful thumbs up and sips the drink until he’s no longer hacking away. He slowly finishes packing up, stopping no less than four times to blow his nose loudly into a tissue.
It’s the worst thing Yoongi’s ever heard in his entire life.
In the car, he’s so tense his muscles start to ache.
Seokjin is completely silent in the passenger seat. Well, except for his loud-ass breathing. Yoongi cringes internally at the congested, crackly sound his lungs are making.
Luckily for both of them, the drive is short. Yoongi is surprised when he pulls up in front of the address Seokjin gives him and sees a fairly nice house with a well-manicured lawn out front.
Seokjin takes his sweet time unbuckling and opening the car door. He gathers up all of his stuff, takes a deep breath, and then gets out of the car, pausing to take another deep breath before he closes the door and starts walking slowly towards his house.
Yoongi almost drives away right then.
Instead, he lets out a long sigh and then turns his car off. Seokjin has only made it halfway to the door by the time Yoongi catches up with him. He doesn’t seem at all surprised when Yoongi walks with him and then takes his keys from his trembling grip to unlock the door for him.
“I’m not letting you pass out and miss more work than you need to. There’s no way I’m doing the entire project by myself,” Yoongi says by way of explanation, even though Seokjin still hasn’t said a single word.
Seokjin’s face is flushed and his coughing has become more frequent despite having taken medicine. He half-walks, half-stumbles into his living room, and Yoongi follows because there’s something that’s making him– some strange kind of feeling in his chest that won’t let him leave until he’s sure Seokjin is going to be okay on his own.
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi?” Seokjin says as he wraps a blanket around himself and plops down onto his couch, still dressed in his work clothes.
“What?”
“I know you hate me, but do you think you could take it easy on my brother?”
“Huh? Your brother?”
“Jungkook? Looks like he’s about fourteen-years-old but he’s actually twenty-four? Dark hair, real self-sacrificing personality? One of our interns? I swear you were just talking with him today but I don’t know if that was a fever dream or what…”
“Jungkook is your brother?”
“I mean, technically he’s my half brother. And before you ask– no, I’m not the reason he got the internship. I had no clue he even applied.”
Now that Yoongi’s thinking about it, he has no idea how he missed that Jungkook is Seokjin’s brother. It makes a lot of sense– they’re both very similar to each other. And both huge pains in his ass.
“I don’t hate you,” he mumbles, watching as Seokjin grabs another blanket to drape over himself.
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “You spend your entire work day glaring at me or insulting me or trying to avoid me. And that’s totally fine, I can take it. But Jungkook…he’s sensitive. He’s a good kid.”
Yoongi snorts. “Sure he is.”
“Just…promise me you'll take it easy on him?”
He’s not sure why, but Yoongi finds himself nodding. “Fine. Now, do you need anything else before I go?”
“Hm.” Seokjin’s eyes drift shut. He shivers under his blanket, and after a moment, he shakes his head.
“Okay. I’m going to get going then. Don’t forget to text Jungkook, or whatever.”
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi?”
“What?”
“Thanks for bringing me home. I appreciate it. Nice to know you have a soul after all.”
“You’re so obnoxious,” Yoongi mutters, rolling his eyes. Then, softly– like he’s afraid someone other than Seokjin might hear him– he adds, “Feel better soon.”
“Bonfire tonight!” Jimin cheers as he moves his arm in the air like the lucky cat at the Chinese takeout restaurant. He has packed bags for this trip and he cannot wait another hour because of his excitement.
Seokjin frowns, leaning against the doorframe. “You do know we’re only going to be gone for two nights, right? There is no way you possibly need this much stuff.
He lets out a noise, miffed. Seokjin has no right to say this, not with the Billy Bass fish Jimin knows is in the elder’s duffel bag.
“Besides,” Seokjin continues, “who is going to carry all of your bags to the car? Because I know you aren’t going to.”
Jimin points to the body lying across his bed. “Jungkookie, of course! Who else would carry my bags willingly?”
Seokjin puts a hand on his hip. “Willingly?” he turns to the maknae. “Did he put you up to this.”
The maknae only stares back. “I am not at liberty to say.” But he adds, “Nor am I about to turn down a free meal.”
Seokjin sighs and leaves the room. “Well, we have to start packing up the van soon. Bring this craziness outside and pack it in yourself. I am not throwing out my shoulder again just because Jimin packed a portable power station.”
After sharing a quick look (and a few laughs later), Jimin and Jungkook carry bags 1-5 out to the driveway, where Seokjin is laughing his windshield wiper laugh aimed towards Namjoon, who is being targeted by a stream of colorful curses by Yoongi and Hoseok, who seems to be looking for his phone (it’s hanging out of his back pocket). The only one Jimin doesn’t see is . . .
“Where’s Tae?” Jungkook askes, also squinting. Jimin almost makes fun of his bad eyesight, but he shouldn’t be the one to judge that.
He meets Jungkook with a flick onto his forehead. “He’s your hyung, you brat!” But the maknae is right. Taehyung is nowhere to be seen, at least, not out in the driveway anyways. Maybe he’s already in the van. Squished in the backseat. Under Jimin’s bags. Maybe he’s suffocating.
“Oh god, he’s suffocating!” Jimin gasps, which alarms Jungkook. They hurry to throw open the sliding door to the van, hitting Hoseok in the process to see that Taehyung is--
A quick once over of the house reveals that Kim Taehyung is still in his natural habitat, aka his bedroom, where he presumably hasn’t moved from his bed in the last 17 hours.
“Oh thank god.” Jimin says, holding a hand to his chest in relief. He moves closer to the bed and knees the lump in the bedsheets in the side. “Get up! We have to go!”
Kim Taehyung, the lump in the bedsheets, hardly rolls over. He only grunts and pulls the blankets tighter around himself. “I’m not here.”
Jimin knees him again. “Well evidently you are here. Are you even packed yet?”
Taehyung squints. “What day is it?”
Jungkook frowns. “Jiminie hyung, look at Tae’s eyes.”
And Taehyung looks loopy. Jungkook is right. So Jimin sighs. What a bad time to be sick.
He turns around and pats the maknae on the shoulder. “Go tell the others. I’ll deal with this.”
Once Jungkook scurries off, Jimin sits on the bed next to his same-age friend. “So, you picked a good time. You couldn’t wait until I was unpacking? It takes a while to pack eight bags, you know ...”
Taehyung only grunts. “Sorry, Jiminie. I’ll make it up to you.”
With a fond sigh, Jimin lightly punches the sick man in the back. “Okay, Tae.”
“Nice one,” Hoseok complimented as Jimin walked into the kitchen, his shoulder giving a satisfying pop.
“Thanks. I’m hurting today,” Jimin replied with a wince as he settled his elbows against the counter, watching Hoseok move around the kitchen.
“Regretting staying late last night now?” Hoseok asked brightly, tossing a devious grin over his shoulder before turning back to the pan on the stove where he was flipping scrambled eggs.
Jimin sighed, resting his chin on his arms. “You can just say ‘I told you so,’ hyung.”
Hoseok chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, that’s not fair. I chose to stay too.” He peeked back at Jimin again. “The new choreo is so worth a day of sore muscles.”
Jimin grinned. “Are you happy with it?”
“Are you serious? I’m ADDICTED to it,” Hoseok exclaimed, shaking his head as he stirred the eggs. “I had so much fun working with you and Kook.” Jimin beamed, an expression that quickly changed to shock when they heard a muffled sneeze from the living room. Hoseok and Jimin’s attention whirled to the couch just as Jungkook’s head appeared, hair mused and sticking up on one side.
“Jungkook? What’re you doing down here?” Jimin asked, voice catching on a laugh at the adorable look of sleepy confusion on the youngest’s face as he blinked around.
“Ummm… great question,” Jungkook muttered, swiping at his nose with a sweatshirt covered hand. He moved to rub at his neck, grimacing. “I hurt.”
“Join the club,” Jimin said, leaning back at the counter, arms crossed over his chest.
“Guess we’re too old to stay up dancing until 2am, huh?” Hoseok added jokingly.
Jungkook scoffed. “Speak for yourselves.”
“Brat.”
Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Jimin, but the teasing quickly turned into another pained frown as Jungkook massaged at the back of his neck. “Seriously, Kookie, are you okay?”
“I dunno.” He peeked up at his hyungs’ worried eyes. “You guys aren’t in pain?”
“I mean, we’re sore, but I wouldn’t say ‘in pain,’” Hoseok explained, transferring his eggs to a plate and turning off the stove. He turned fully towards the youngest. “Did you sleep down here?”
“I must’ve.” Jungkook pouted, looking around as if the answer would reveal itself to him. “I remember changing after our choreography session, then I came back down to watch a movie… I must’ve just passed out.”
“Maybe you slept funny, then,” Hoseok suggested.
“Maybe.” Jungkook’s head dipped below the couch. “It’tchu!”
“Bless you,” Hoseok chirped as Jimin’s eyes narrowed.
“Hey Kook, is it just your neck that’s bothering you?” Jimin asked, voice flat.
Jungkook’s eyes wandered upwards as he thought. “Ummm… no. My back’s also in pain, and my arms are throbbing a bit.” He paused, pursing his lips. “Maybe my legs too.”
“Not your head or anything?” Jimin pushed. Jungkook shrugged, sniffling lightly. “What about your throat?”
It was Jungkook’s turn to narrow his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just ruling out all of our options.
“Jimin…” Jungkook’s tone was vaguely threatening. Hoseok’s eyes volleyed between the duo, unsure how to step in.
“Listen, all I’m saying is you’ve had a lot of late nights recently, and we both know there’s that nasty little cold, flu, something bug going around HYBE. It’s hit TXT, ENHYPEN… and, ya know, Seventeen, including your best non-BTS friend…”
“Jimin-hyung, I’m not sick.”
The sudden turn to formality peaked Hoseok’s suspicions, spurring him into action. “Come here, babe,” he said, gliding across the room to the couch in record time. His slender fingers were tenderly pressing against Jungkook’s throat before the youngest even had time to protest. “Hmmm… that… feels a little swollen to me. And…” He paused, lips pursed tightly as one hand moved to Jungkook’s cheek, the other to his forehead. “And that feels a little warm.”
“Oh my god, you guys are SO dramatic,” Jungkook whined, leaning away from Hoseok to collapse back against the couch. “I’m fine! It’s probably just stress…”
“Hey, hey, settle down,” Hoseok said calmly, holding up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say…”
“No, you always do this! You and Jin and Joon hyungs, and Yoongi and Tae and YOU!” Jungkook pointed over at Jimin. “You treat me like a baby if I so much as sneeze, and I hate it.”
“Woah, Kook, that’s not it at all!” Hoseok exclaimed, sitting on the couch next to the younger, whose chest was heaving with emotion. “I just want to make sure you are okay, as your friend. Your brother. I’m not trying to baby you.” Jungkook didn’t meet his eyes, sniffling indignantly. “But you do have an elevated temp, and your lymph nodes are swollen, so…”
“I’m not staying home.”
“I didn’t say…”
“But I do say you need to take it easy,” Jimin interrupted, appearing at Hoseok’s side. “You always do this when you’re sick. Just let us baby you!” Hoseok grabbed Jimin’s hand, squeezing to remind him that was the heart of their issue right now.
“Hyung, I’m not a baby!” Jungkook shot back.
“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying you need to let us baby you,” Jimin clarified. “And by ‘baby,’ I mean ‘care for,’ ‘love,’ ‘dote on.’” Jungkook’s frown didn’t break, but he didn’t argue back. Jimin shrugged. “Think about it this way. The more you let yourself rest today, the faster you can get back in the studio.” Jungkook shrugged, looking away in acknowledgment of Jimin’s logic. Hoseok found himself smiling at the exchange. “And the sooner you get off the couch, the faster we can de-germify it so no one else catches this demon virus.”
“Jimin!” Jungkook whined, heading falling back at the couch again. But the worst seemed to be over; Jungkook was pouting when he turned his attention back to his brothers, but it was his normal ‘stop being annoying’ pout and not the ‘I’m at my wits end’ one. “I didn’t get any germs on the couch.” He suddenly gasped and collapsed forward, hands clamped over his mouth. “Heh-idschiew! It'schiew! Hii’shoo!” He peeked up at Jimin over his fingers. “See? Not on the couch.”
“He’s not wrong,” Hoseok laughed, pointing back to the tissue box on the kitchen counter in answer to Jungkook’s panicked eyes sweeping the room.
As the youngest scampered up off the couch, Jimin sighed overdramatically. “I’ve seen how you droll when you sleep.”
“Fuck you,” Jungkook shot back before blowing his nose.
“Pretty words, please!” Hoseok exclaimed, but he was left in the dust as Jimin simply shot back a worse insult, which Jungkook happily echoed. Hoseok sighed, simply walking around the duo to retrieve his scrambled eggs.
A/n: Requested by @bultaoreunheyyy! I had a great time writing this 🥰🥰
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's close to 1am when Jungkook lets himself back into the house, kicking his shoes off haphazardly in the doorway before making a beeline straight for the kitchen. He almost doesn't seem to notice Seokjin as he walks straight by him, opening a drawer and rummaging in it.
Seokjin clears his throat to make his presence known, not missing the way Jungkook startles a little, gaze jumping to him before he - deliberately, Seokjin can tell - turns back to the drawer he was rummaging through. “Kook-ah.” Seokjin says, undeterred by being ignored. “You went out for a run this late at night?”
And to his surprise, he's met with a huffy, “none of your business, hyung.”
Seokjin feels his eyebrows climb up into his hairline. The maknae was in a mood tonight, it seems.
Jungkook had pulled out a ready-mix packet of protein shake and was squinting at the back of the packet, struggling to read the preparation instructions under the dim kitchen light.
“Here, let hyung help.” Seokjin stands to reach over Jungkook's shoulder for the packet, but his arm brushes against Jungkook's neck and he jerks it back, surprised.
“Eurgh! Why are you so sweaty?”
“Probably because I just went for a run?” Jungkook says, visibly rolling his eyes. It's a far cry from the usually sweet, polite Jungkook they know and Seokjin frowns, trying to figure out what was wrong. From what he remembers, nothing particularly bad happened during practice today; only that Jungkook had been a little less energetic when the babies were goofing around and his rhinitis seemed to be acting up more than usual… ah.
Now that he realises it, Seokjin wants to kick himself for missing the signs - the night was cold enough that there was no way Jungkook was sweating that much from just a run, and the maknae's cheeks were just a touch too rosy for it to be from the exercise, either. And Seokjin can read the instructions on Jungkook's protein shake packet perfectly fine from where he's standing, so Jungkook's squinting was likely more from a headache than from any supposed bad lighting.
“I don't think it was the run, Kook,” Seokjin says softly, stepping closer to the maknae. “Are you sick? Is that why you're being so crabby?” He reaches out to feel Jungkook's forehead - and gets his hand slapped away, a move that leaves him flabbergasted because of how out of the norm it was, especially for Jungkook.
Jungkook whirls around to face him, eyes flashing indignantly. “I am not-” is all he manages to say, however, before Seokjin sees all the colour drain from his face and his knees crumple.
Seokjin leaps forward to catch him before the maknae can crack his head open on the kitchen floor. There's silence for a beat, filled with Seokjin's harsh breathing at the scare and Jungkook's shaky one - then, a tiny sniffle from Jungkook.
And the maknae bursts into tears.
“I'm sorry,” Jungkook wails, his loud, hitching sobs filling the room. “I-I didn't - I didn't mean to snap at you, I just woke up feeling weird and gross and wrong so I thought going for a run would make me feel better but it didn't, then I came home feeling grosser and weirder and wronger-”
“Hey, hey. Kookie, you have to calm down.” Seokjin interrupts, alarmed by how Jungkook's breathing was rapidly picking up. “Breathe, baby.”
Jungkook sucks in a shaky breath, burying his face in Seokjin's shirt as he clings tightly to him. Now that they're pressed together, Seokjin can feel the alarming heat coming off Jungkook's body, and makes a soft tsk of pity, smoothing Jungkook's sweaty bangs back from his forehead. In a way, he feels relieved that he finally understands the reason Jungkook has been so irritable - even though it's for reasons he would never have wished on their poor maknae.
“Let's get you off the floor and to your room.” Seokjin murmurs. “You'll feel better after a bath.”
Jungkook sniffles sadly as he nods, and oh, Seokjin's heart is so weak for his poor, teary, sickly maknae. Jungkook’s arms come up to wrap tightly around his neck, and while Seokjin knows his back is going to hate him for this come tomorrow, he also knows that right now - he's never letting Jungkook fall.
