The leader glanced over his shoulder at the door where Chanyeol stood, hands on his hips, Yixing and Jongdae behind him, looking much more sympathetic than the rapper.
Junmyeon sighed. “I can’t leave him…” He turned back towards the bed, where Jongin was fast asleep. Finally. The dancer had been suffering from a horrible flu, delirious and bedridden with a fever that had been sitting just under hospital-level for nearly 36 hours. Jongin had been tormented by sleep paralysis and nightmares so terrifying that he’d ended up vomiting twice. While all of his members had taken their turn caring for their Nini bear, Junmyeon hadn’t left his side since he’d collapsed into bed. “I can’t leave him…” Junmyeon repeated breathlessly.
“And what good are you to him if you’re sick too?” Chanyeol asked, voice sharp. Junmyeon hung his head, the truth squeezing his heart. He knew Chanyeol was right but… what would happen if Jongin woke up and his leader wasn’t there?
“Myeonie.” Yixing appeared at Junmyeon’s side, kneeling neck to him and grabbing his hands. “Please. You’ve been doing such a good job watching over our baby…”
“He needs me,” Junmyeon whispered.
“I know. But he’s sleeping right now. You should take this opportunity to rest too,” Yixing replied, voice slow and gentle.
“Please, hyung.” Junmyeon whirled to his other side where Jongdae had appeared seemingly out of thin air. “Rest. For us. For Nini.” The leader’s attention snapped back to the boy sleeping in the bed before them.
Yixing squeezed Junmyeon’s hands again, then let go to rub the leader’s shoulders instead. “How long has he been out?”
“Maybe two hours? He woke up a bit ago, mumbled some incoherent ramblings, then fell bask asleep,” Junmyeon answered, finding it hard to keep his eyes open with Yixing’s strong fingers massaging into his muscles.
“Where’s his temp?” Chanyeol asked from behind the leader’s chair.
“Hasn’t moved a bit.”
Jongdae sighed, reaching forward and brushing Jongin’s sweaty hair back from his face, whispering, “Come on, sweet boy. Work with us here.”
Junmyeon sighed, the noise coming out closer to a whine. “I don’t know what else to do.” He rubbed at his eyes.
“Why don’t we start with a snack and a nap?” Chanyeol suggested.
Junmyeon groaned. “Yeollie, I can’t…”
“We’ll be here with him,” Yixing promised, squeezing Junmyeon’s shoulders meaningfully.
“Nothing will happen that we can’t handle,” Jongdae added.
“Come on.” Junmyeon blinked up at Chanyeol, who was offering his hands. The rapper smiled encouragingly, but a flash of worry colored his face. “Your eyes are bloodshot, hyung.”
“How long have you been awake?” Jongdae asked.
“I… don’t feel like answering that question.”
“And that’s fine,” Yixing cut in before the younger two could continue hounding the leader. “Let’s get you to bed, hyung.”
Junmyeon sighed, hanging his head as his eyes slipped closed. The second his eyelids drooped, the weight of exhaustion settled over his entire body. Maybe they were right. Junmyeon grabbed Chanyeol’s hands and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“Please wake me the minute he does,” the leader said.
Yixing nodded as he slipped into Junmyeon’s chair. “Of course, hyung.”
Junmyeon’s eyes flashed to Jongdae and Chanyeol. “I mean it.”
“So do we.” Jongdae’s smile said otherwise.
“Let’s go, Myeonie.” Chanyeol wrapped an arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders. The leader took one last look at his second youngest member, cheeks fever flushed but eyes mercifully closed. Jongjn seemed to be at peace for now. Maybe a nap would do him good too…
Caregiver(s): Chanyeol, with some Suho, Chen, and Baekhyun
Word Count: 1,801
Notes: Savauge is a made up choreographer, and we hate him. Youngmin is/was one of EXO's managers. Is it crazy for me personally to have chosen the milder form of pneumonia for this prompt? Yeah. But I felt myself getting too close to 'Come Lean Your Back on Me' with serious pneumonia, so here we are!
“Hyung, you aren’t actually coming to practice, are you?” Chanyeol asked, incredulous as he watched Minseok slip his shoes on.
“Yes, I’m actually coming to practice,” Minseok replied simply, sparing a slight glance up at the rapper, and trying not to smile at the sight of Chanyeol’s eyes looking about ready to pop out of his head.
“Hyung! You literally have pneumonia!” Chanyeol exclaimed, throwing his arms out in exasperation.
“I have walking pneumonia, Yeollie. Doctor said I’m fine to keep working unless it gets worse.” The cough that followed his words did not convince Chanyeol in the slightest.
“That’s still pneumonia, hyung.”
Minseok sighed, head falling back against the wall. He looked utterly exhausted, and the day hadn’t even begun. “I know, but I feel like you’re hearing the ‘can’ more than the ‘doctor said’ part. Savauge is coming in today, remember? No doctor’s note means no absences…”
Despite the all-clear from a medical professional, Chanyeol did not fully believe Minseok was as okay as he claimed, strict guest choreographer be damned. He’d been ill enough to be sent to the doctor, after all. Sure, his symptoms weren’t really anything beyond those of a common cold, except for the much harsher cough, but it was rare for Minseok to get sick at all, and even stranger that his body hadn’t been able to kick this cold for almost two weeks. So it wasn’t surprising that he actually had mild pneumonia, which explained why the normal meds weren’t as successful. But even with the clear ‘mild’ diagnosis, and without an obvious fever or difficulty breathing, Chanyeol didn’t like the idea of any of his brothers having to work when the word ‘pneumonia’ was on the table, period.
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Chanyeol looked around, desperate for help. His eyes landed on the leader in the kitchen. “Suho-hyung, stop him!”
Junmyeon poked his head into the hall and shrugged. “I can’t, bud. Minseok-hyung’s right: unless his symptoms get significantly worse, there’s no reason he can’t go to practice. But, he has to take it easy.” Junmyeon put extra emphasis on the last three words, pointing meaningfully at Minseok, which Chanyeol understood as part of a prior conversation on the topic. The eldest simply nodded, giving a thumbs up.
“Hyung’s also right about the choreographer being a bigger asshole if any of us skip,” Baekhyun’s voice called from further in the kitchen, mouth clearly full of whatever he was eating for breakfast. Minseok nodded towards the doorway in vindicated triumph. Chanyeol huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in frustrated defeat.
“Hyung, please rest today.”
“Chanyeol, I can’t…”
“Yeollie, give it up,” Jongdae said as he clambered down the stairs. He shot a fiery stare at Minseok as he sauntered to the kitchen. “If hyung wants to be stupid, let him.”
Minseok rolled his eyes. “Kim Jongdae, we’re not doing this again…”
“OOOOooooooOOOOO! Trouble in paradise?!” Baekhyun teased as he slid into the hallway in his socks, eyes volleying between Minseok and Jongdae.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Jongdae held up his hands, his tone making it obvious he firmly disagreed with his own words. “Hyung’s coming to rehearsal, as is his right. Who cares that he barely slept from coughing up blood all night…”
“WHAT?!” Junmyeon’s head whipped around the corner.
“That did not happen…” Minseok said flatly.
“It better not have!” the leader exclaimed.
Jongdae rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, I lied about the blood part for drama. But you were coughing all night,” he corrected.
Minseok’s eyes narrowed, his voice tinged with worry as he countered, “You said it didn’t keep you up.”
Jongdae shook his head. “It didn’t.”
“Then how do you know if I was up all night?”
“Cause you look like you got punched in the face,” Jongdae replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He pointed at his own face for emphasis. “If you don’t get enough sleep, you get five o’clock shadows under your eyes.”
“I mean…” Baekhyun cocked his head to the side, examining Minseok closely. “He’s not wrong. You do look like you got punched.”
Minseok sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “You’re all ridiculous.” He coughed again, wincing as his throat burned. Jongdae wasn’t wrong, this stupid cough had kept him up most of the night, but Minseok wasn’t about to admit that to the people actively trying to sabotage their own rehearsal by forcing him to stay home.
“Hyung…” Chanyeol started again.
“Yeollie, I’m not changing my mind.” Minseok cut him off, then looked at each of his dongsaengs in turn. “I’m medicated, I’m hydrated, and I will take it easy and sit down if I need to. Case closed.” Jongdae stormed off into the kitchen, Baekhyun following on his heels. Junmyeon nodded in resignation before going to find the other members. Chanyeol sighed, studying his shoes, unsure what to do with himself given that he and Minseok were now the only two ready to leave.
“Yeollie, relax your face or its gonna get stuck like that,” Minseok teased, trying to ease the rapper’s ire with humor. The corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile hidden underneath his mask, but his eyes were far too dull and shadowed for it to matter.
Chanyeol huffed again, pouting harder. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither. But it’s okay.” Minseok tapped his foot against Chanyeol’s. “Thank you for caring about me so much.”
Chanyeol felt his ears turn a self-conscious red. “Anytime, hyung.”
*
Rehearsal with Savauge felt significantly more brutal than usual. While he was an exceptional choreographer, he also seemed to suffer from a dangerously inflated ego and delusions of grandeur about his own excellence. If he’d had just an ounce more of humility, SM would hire him more often. Still, he was one of the best in the game, so the groups took turns as sacrifice to his cruel jabs and snarky commentary for a new stellar dance.
It certainly didn’t help that the heater was broken in their practice room, the air physically chilled, providing no relief from the icy glare of their choreographer.
Each run seemed to be worse to Savauge. He’d snap one note, then harp on something entirely different the next run, as if the first note had never been a problem. Or at least it wasn’t until he brought the issue up again five runs later.
After nearly an hour of non-stop performing, Savauge called a harsh cut in the middle of the dance. His laser-sharp eyes flitted between the members, who did their best to contain their heaving gasps for air - Savauge hated when his dancers dared to look tired. Suddenly, the choreographer snapped his fingers in their trainer. “Which one’s the sick one?” All eyes moved to Minseok as the he trainer pointed at him. The eldest held up a hand in agreement. Savauge hummed. “Interesting. Wouldn’t have been my guess.” He sent a sweeping glare over the members. “How come the one with pneumonia is out performing some of you?” The room went deadly quiet. Several members averted their eyes in shame, cheeks blushing hard from embarrassment. “Unacceptable. Again.”
And so it continued for another hour until Savauge’s assistant reminded him of an additional schedule, and he released the group with words of vitriolic criticism. Their manager wisely called for an extended lunch break immediately after to let the members cool off before they continued working.
Mid-lunch hour, Chanyeol stumbled into the break lounge and found Minseok curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The nap appeared to be deliberate rather than accidental: Minseok had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his ears, arms crossed and knees pulled to his chest, glasses resting on the arm of the couch. Chanyeol had noticed the eldest disappear immediately after Savauge left, but he hadn’t caught where Minseok had run off to. Guess he had an answer now.
Chanyeol felt his heart constrict as he watched a shiver course through Minseok’s sleeping frame. On instinct, the rapper pulled off his hoodie and crept closer on soft feet to not wake his brother. As he lovingly draped the hoodie over his sleeping hyung, Chanyeol noticed a distinct rasp in Minseok’s breathing that hadn’t been there before. Frowning, he touched a gentle hand against Minseok’s cheek. His skin was chilled, likely from the cold practice room. But there was the faintest trait of unnatural heat.
“Yeollie.”
Chanyeol jumped back, nearly losing his balance and toppling backwards. “H-how’d you know it was me?”
“No one else would be tiptoeing around so deliberately.” Chanyeol scoffed as Minseok’s lips curved into a smile and he cracked his eyes open. Squinting slightly without his glasses, the eldest’s teasing smile turned softer. “You worry too much, Yeol.”
“Well.” Chanyeol sighed, slumping to a seat on the floor by Minseok’s stomach. “Pneumonia’s a scary word, hyung.”
“It can be, yeah.” Minseok moved to sit up, wincing in discomfort as he uncurled each limb. A thick cough bubbled in his throat, and Chanyeol sat at attention, arms reaching forward as if he could do anything to help. He looked around nervously, eyes landing on Minseok’s water bottle not too far away. Chanyeol lunged to grab it just as Minseok collapsed back against the couch, groaning in pain, a hand rubbing at his chest.
“Are you feeling worse?” Chanyeol asked, pushing the water bottle into Minseok’s hands. He waited for the eldest to take a careful sip, monitoring his movements closely.
“Yeah, kind of,” Minseok admitted immediately. His fingers moved to his chest again, worrying at the fabric of his hoodie.
“You didn’t take it easy.”
“I was at first, but… he’s so intimidating.” Minseok closed his eyes, the memory seemingly just as painful as the crush in his lungs.
“He liked you today, though,” Chanyeol said brightly, rubbing Minseok’s knee comfortingly.
The eldest huffed a single laugh. “I guess so, yeah.” He sniffled, pressing against his forehead. “Do you think Youngmin will let me go home now?”
It was Chanyeol’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, hyung. In fact, I think he’ll be relieved to hear you admit defeat. As will everyone else.”
Minseok cracked one eye open. “Don’t tell Jongdae I surrendered. He’s gonna bother me about it.”
Chanyeol snorted out another laugh. “Hyung, how are we supposed to keep this from him?”
Minseok shrugged. “Tell him Youngmin made the call? Forced me to leave instead of me going willingly?”
“You know what? Fine. Your secret’s safe with me, so long as you get to rest.” Chanyeol pushed himself up off the floor. “I’ll go get manager-nim…”
“Yeollie?” The rapper turned back to the couch with expectant eyes. “Thank you. For caring about me so much.”
