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.
Notes: @forever-atiny I fear this is not exactly what you were expecting... but this is what my brain came up with. It was a small scenario, and I couldn't find a satisfying way to continue it. So I hope this little ficlet gives you some joy!!!
“Where are you going?” Jimin asked as Seokjin hoisted the hood of his raincoat over his head.
“Pharmacy.” Jimin raised an inquiring eyebrow. Seokjin shrugged. “It’s November. Time to stock up.”
“On what?”
“Cold and flu season provisions.”
Jimin snorted. “Hyung. Seriously? No one’s even sick!”
“So?” Seokjin’s lips betrayed a prideful smile. “Wouldn’t you rather be over prepared than under?”
“I mean, I guess, but this feels like overkill, hyung.”
“You can believe that all you want, but you cannot stop me.” A flash of lightning and roll of thunder followed Seokjin’s statement.
“Not even this storm can stop you, huh?” Jimin asked.
“No. My mission is too sacred.” Seokjin zipped the coat all the way up past his chin. “Wish me luck. And thank me later when we have the extra strength sudafed, cherry flavored cough drops, and grape popsicles on standby when you need them.” Jimin snorted, shaking his head as the eldest scrambled out the door.
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.”
When Namjoon finally sat down at the table in the dorm’s kitchen, a tidal wave of exhaustion instantly overwhelmed his body, and he collapsed forwards, forehead pillowed on his arms. The day had been… long, to put it mildly.
Namjoon usually didn’t mind his role as leader, but today was one of the ones he wished Big Hit gave the job to someone else. He’d woken to a vague headache threatening in his temples, but tamped it down with three Advil. He’d left the dorm early for a meeting with some HYBE and brand execs that ran insanely over the scheduled time. The amount of yelling that had taken place was honestly embarrassing, and it took everything in Namjoon to remain level-headed, to bring everyone together, to be a leader even among his superiors when they proved unable to. The whole thing brought his headache back, full force, and no amount of added Advil had helped this time.
Then, because of the late meeting, Namjoon missed had missed all but fifteen minutes of dance practice, and a choreography learning day no less. In those few moments, Nmajoon couldn’t get a hang of the moves; he knew dance wasn’t his strongest suit, but tried anyway, desperate to release some of the pent up tension from the disaster meeting. So he skipped half of lunch to catch up with the choreographer, who insisted it wasn’t necessary, that Namjoon would easily learn it later, but it had been Namjoon’s choice. He didn’t like the idea of letting his team down, no matter the circumstances. Besides, he wasn’t all that hungry anyway.
Last, but certainly not least, there had been content to film, a task Namjoon usually thoroughly enjoyed. He loved goofing off with his members, getting to reveal their silly side to ARMY, just being together. But today? Every time Seokjin laughed it felt like a spear striking through Namjoon’s brain. Hoseok’s consistent touches (grabbing his hands, squeezing his shoulders, lightly smacking his arm or leg when he laughed) that usually made Namjoon’s heart sing instead made his skin feel too tight. Each playful argument between Jimin and Taehyung, their voices raising higher with each teasing insult, made Namjoon want to bolt from the room. The very air around him felt closer and warmer and more uncomfortable the longer that little red light blinked on the camera before them.
So the second the camera shut off and the director declared they had enough content, Namjoon rose from his chair, ignoring all of the chatter around him, and methodically gathered his belongings. He spilled his headphones into his ears as he slid into the car, first one in, and closed his eyes as he waited for the others to join. No one questioned the leader’s silence. They’d long since come to an understanding that, sometimes, a member would feel overstimulated after long days like this and just need a quiet moment to himself in the car. The headphones were a sign to let him be; to let him recalibrate. Unfortunately, in this moment, recalibrating for Namjoon meant acknowledging all the new aches and pains he’d picked up throughout the marathon of the day, including a rather severe pain in his throat. Well, that couldn’t be good.
Upon arriving home, as the rest of the members disappeared to their own tasks and plans and spaces, Namjoon collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, catching him up to the present after his review of the busy day.
Namjoon startled at a hand on his back. Jerking up, he made eye contact with Yoongi.
“What’s wrong?” the older man asked. His eyes were firm, serious. There was no use arguing with him.
Namjoon sighed. “I don’t feel well.”
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Yoongi huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me more.” Namjoon tapped his throat. “Hm. Fever?”
“Maybe?”
Yoongi reached a hand forward, planting it against Namjoon’s forehead, then moving it to his cheek and neck. “That feels like a mild fever to me.” Yoongi’s cool fingers danced over Namjoon’s throat, lingering right below his ears. “You feel swollen too. Might be strep, or tonsillitis.”
Namjoon’s brow furrowed. “I thought that only happened to kids?”
Yoongi snorted a single laugh. “Wow, you really must be sick.” Namjoon met that statement with an unamused glare. “But really. You taking anything?”
The leader shook his head. “Took Advil for the headache throughout the day, but everything else just kinda…” He brought his hands together, fingers interlacing dramatically, “hit since we got in the car.”
Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, Hobi clocked something off with you on the ride home. Kook noticed it too.” Namjoon’s lips pressed together and resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, a stress tell he knew Yoongi would call him on. “Jin and I, of course, noticed the minute you walked into dance practice.” Now Namjoon huffed, rolling his eyes as his arms crossed. “And I’m sure Jimin and Tae can feel our concern through the hive mind so… let’s stop ignoring it, yeah?”
“I’ll get a doctor’s appointment first thing tomorrow,” Namjoon replied, trying to sound annoyed.
Yoongi ruffled his hair, angel soft. “Good man. You want ginger, lemon, or chamomile tea?”
“Surprise me, cause I know you’re going to drown whatever it is in honey anyway.”
Feveruary Day 11: "We better get you cleaned up before (blank) sees you like this."
Fandom: BTS
Sickie: J-Hope (cold)
Caregiver(s): Jimin
Word Count: 544
Notes: For @tilly-poppies! Hope you enjoy, my friend!
Jimin’s blood ran cold as a knock echoed throughout the dorm. The vocalist slowly peeked over his shoulder towards the entryway, unsure if this was even real life. Everyone that knew their address had keys. Why on Earth would anyone be…?
Another, more insistent knock sounded. Brow crinkled in hesitant curiosity, Jimin stood from the couch, cringing a bit at a stab of pain shooting through his twisted ankle as he limped towards the hall. He cautiously stayed in the den, peeking a single eye around the door frame towards the entry.
A third knock was followed by a familiar voice calling, “Hello?! Jiminie? Are you close?!”
Jimin jumped to attention, hurrying to the door as fast as he could. His fingers fumbled with the lock in his haste, but it only took a few seconds for him to throw open the door to his precious Hoseok-hyung. Who was… soaking wet?
“Hobi?” Terribly confused, Jimin looked his hyung up and down. Hoseok’s clothes were drenched, his waterlogged hair hanging heavily against his forehead and shedding tiny drops of water into his eyes. A puddle of water was starting to collect at his feet. And he was shivering rather violently. “Wha… what’s going…?”
“I left my keys at the studio.” A sheepish little smile accompanied a shrug, as if this were something Hoseok did all the time. He sniffled sharply, sweeping his bangs away from his eyes.
“Were you walking?!” Jimin exclaimed.
“No. This happened between the car and the building.” Hoseok shrugged and sniffled again. “Storm popped up out of nowhere.”
As another shiver shook the rapper’s body, Jimin suddenly snapped back into reality, ushering him inside. “But why are you even home, hyung? I thought you and Yoongi had the mixing studio until…”
“Et-Achu!” Hoseok stumbled forward, nearly tripping on a pair of Namjoon’s shoes that the leader had neglected to put away. Jimin reached for him, latching onto the back of the rapper’s jacket, as if that would stop him from crashing to the floor. Hoseok caught his balance, though, straightening up with an exasperated, congested sigh. “Well, that might have something to do with it…”
“Oh, hyung.” Jimin pouted sympathetically as Hoseok caught two more sneezes in his sleeve. “When did this start?”
“Maybe two days ago?” Hoseok sniffled again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But it’s nothing. Really…”
“It might be nothing, but I’m sure this,” Jimin gestured to Hoseok’s shaking, soaking wet body, “isn’t helping.”
Hoseok sighed again. “Please don’t tell Namjoon. Or he won’t let me work.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jimin let go of Hoseok’s jacket to close and lock the door. “Now, we better get you cleaned up before Jin-hyung sees you like this.”
Hoseok’s face went white. “Please tell me he’s not…”
“Jimin-ah, you ready to…?” Seokjin waltzed down the stairs, fresh from the shower. His smile faded into horror at the sight of the waterlogged rapper in the entryway. Hoseok shot him a thumbs up with what he hoped was a convincing smile. Then he crumpled forward, sneezing again. “Oh, hell no.”
“Sadly, yes, he’s here,” Jimin whispered to Hoseok in the split second before they were swept up in Seokjin’s hurricane of outrage (at the weather, of course).
Feveruary Day 5: "I told you to wear something warmer"
Fandom: BTS
Sickie: Jungkook (cold)
Caregiver(s): Jin
Word Count: 534
Notes: Short(er) and silly as heck.
Seokjin tapped his knuckles against the door, warning of his entrance before swinging into the room. Upon his entry, Jungkook’s head appeared from under the duvet, eyes squinting blearily and hair sticking up in every possible direction.
“Gooooood morning, Kookie,” Seokjin sang, voice just loud enough to be annoying. A congested groan was the maknae’s only reply as he dropped his head back against his pillow with a soft thwump, eliciting a pathetic little cough. Seokjin couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Rough night?”
Jungkook’s eyes cracked open just enough to glare at him. “Ha ha, good one, hyung.” He sounded significantly stuffier than the day before.
“Really, though. Did you get any sleep?”
“A little.” Jungkook paused, sniffling deeply. “Whatever tea Yoongi gave me knocked me the fuck out…”
“Yeah, I have no idea where he found that stuff, but it’s the good shit, for sure.” Seokjin nodded.
“But I still woke up a few times and couldn’t get comfortable.” Jungkook rubbed a hand over his eyes. Another cough crawled its way up his throat. Seokjin pushed off of where he’d been leaning in the doorframe and snagged Jungkook’s water bottle, passing it to the younger man when he’d found his breath again.
“I’m sorry, love.” Seokjin frowned as Jungkook drained the last few sips of his water. “I’m also sorry to be the one to tell you filming starts in half an hour.” Jungkook groaned, flopping back against his pillow. “We waited as long as we could to wake you.”
“Can’t I just be sick today?” Jungkook asked, hopeful eyes peering up at Seokjin. Damn, this kid’s puppy dog eyes were no joke. Even so…
Seokjin shook his head. “That’s not my call, kiddo. So let’s get you up and medicated, and the rest of us will do what we can to cover for your lack of energy.”
“But I am ill! I am on my death bed!” Jungkook’s arms flopped against the covers as he sniffled rather pathetically.
“Uh-huh, right. You have a cold, dumbass.”
“I am this close,” Jungkook held up two fingers rather close together, “to drowning in my own snot.”
“That’s gross, and I feel for you, but you don’t have a fever, so…” Seokjin jerked a thumb towards the door. “Let’s go.”
Jungkook sighed. “But it’s so cooooold, hyung…”
“Hey, I told you to wear something warmer…” Seokjin held up his hands as if surrendering his responsibility for their predicament.
“That’s not… Ugh!” Jungkook sat up, pressing on his eyes for a moment before reopening them, ready to argue. “I told you, I’m not sick cause it’s cold out. I’m sick cause Mingyu’s immune system sucks and I hang out with him anyway,” Jungkook shot back.
“You haven’t even seen Mingyu in two weeks!” Seokjin exclaimed.
“Yeah, well, our bond transcends that.”
“You’re literally just making excuses.”
“Am not!”
“Are t- No. I’m not engaging.” Seokjin shook his head and turned towards the door. “You got thirty minutes, Kookie. I left some pills for you on the bathroom counter. They should help with the drowning situation.”
“Are they from Yoongi?”
Seokjin shot a smile over his shoulder. “But of course. For you? Only the best.”
