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“Your Rotten Fish is No Match For My Love”

SUMMARY: San spends the night in Wooyoung’s hotel room caring for his best friend after he gets food poisoning from some bad fish, and along the way the pair realize there’s something more to their friendship than they’d previously thought.

SICKIE: Wooyoung

CARETAKERS: San (+ some from Yeosang)

WORD COUNT: 7,025

TW: graphic descriptions of vomiting

Read on AO3!

NOTE: Behold, the Woosan sickfic that almost killed me because I locked in too hard and wrote this all in one sitting despite having a chronic illness that very much does not like it when I do anything in more than half hour intervals.

Also, if this seems at all familiar, it had the premise yoinked from a fic I wrote like 5 years ago for an entirely different fandom. I highly doubt anyone who read that is gonna be reading this, unless there’s some secret RuPaul’s Drag Race x ATEEZ faction that I don’t know about, but wanted to give a heads up just in case.

A strange sound woke San from his sleep. He groaned, rolling over to look at the clock next to his bed. 11:07pm- he had only been asleep for two hours. San wasn't normally one to go to bed early, but they had back to back schedules the next day and he wanted to make sure he was well rested. He listened for a moment to see if he could hear the noise again, but the room was silent, save for the dull hum of the aircon. Shrugging, he rolled back over, pulling the covers up to his chin as he tried to fall back asleep. The sound came again a few minutes later, just as he was drifting off. It took a moment for him to realize what he was hearing was the faint but unmistakable sound of someone vomiting in the room next to his- Wooyoung’s. Still half asleep, San sat up, fumbling to find his phone on the bedside table before shooting his friend a text.

ATEEZ CS ❤️: are you okay?

Stupid question, he thought to himself, chewing at his thumb nail. Wooyoung was throwing up, of course he wasn’t okay. A few minutes went by with no response. He texted again.

ATEEZ CS ❤️: do you want me to come over?

If they were at the dorms, San wouldn’t have thought twice about going to check on a sick member, but they were staying in a hotel and he didn’t know how well the managers would respond to him leaving his room in the middle of the night when they were supposed to be sleeping. Wooyoung didn't text back, but a series of painful sounding coughs and gags coming from the other side of the shared wall was all the response San needed. Fuck it, he thought to himself. If the managers had a problem with it, he’d deal with it in the morning. He couldn’t leave his best friend to suffer by himself when he was so obviously unwell.

San grabbed his hotel keycard from the nightstand, slipping it into the pocket of his sweatpants along with his phone. After a moment of thought, he circled to the other side of the bed, picking up Shiber from where he lay on the other pillow and tucking him under his arm as he made his way out of the room, being careful to close the door quietly behind him. The hallway was brightly lit and it took him a second to adjust to the sudden shift in lighting, rubbing roughly at his tired eyes before reaching up to knock on the door next to his.

“Young-ah? It's San, open up."

A few moments passed and he was just getting ready to knock again when the door creaked open, revealing a very pale and very unsteady looking Wooyoung standing in the doorway.

"Sannie I-" was all he managed to get out before he was cut off by a gag. He clapped a hand over his mouth and spun around, stumbling over his feet a little as he made a beeline back to the bathroom. From his position in the doorway, San could hear more than he could see as Wooyoung crashed rather violently onto the tiled floor, just in time to be sick again. San caught the door before it closed and followed the younger man into his hotel room, nose crinkling slightly at the acrid smell that hung in the air. The room was a mess, sweaty sheets tangled up on the bed and a towel on the floor next to it half covering what was clearly a failed attempt to make it to the bathroom on time. San frowned at the sight- how long had Wooyoung been sick? They’d only checked into their rooms a few hours ago after dinner at the hotel restaurant. He tried to think back to the meal they’d shared- had Wooyoung seemed off then? No, he was his usual bright and bubbly self, cracking jokes with Mingi and playfully shooting straw wrappers at an (only slightly) irritated Seonghwa. What could’ve happened since then?

A loud cough interrupted his thoughts and San quickly pulled himself back to the present, safely depositing Shiber on the desk along with his room key before rounding the corner to the small en-suite bathroom. Despite its intensity, the vomiting spell seemed to have been short-lived, already tapering off by the time San made his way over to where Wooyoung was kneeling, arm draped over the toilet seat and head hanging low as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

"Aigoo," San cooed, crouching down next to his friend, reaching a hand out to brush his sweaty bangs off his forehead. He winced at the heat he was met with- the younger was definitely running a fever. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Wooyoung whimpered, shakily straightening up and wrapping a protective arm around his aching stomach. "I don't feel good."

“I can see that. How long have you been feeling sick?” San reached out to flush the toilet, averting his eyes as the murky water swirled away. He did not need a visual to go along with the sounds he’d been hearing for the last several minutes.

"l've been feeling kinda off since after dinner, but I just chalked it up to the adrenaline from today finally wearing off, you know?" Wooyoung started. San nodded, rubbing a comforting hand on his best friend’s shoulder as he stopped to cough harshly into his elbow. Wooyoung paused for a moment, swallowing thickly, before continuing.

"I tried to go to bed early so I could sleep it off, but I couldn’t fall asleep and my stomach started to hurt- and I mean really hurt, not like ‘I ate too many shrimp crackers and I feel kinda bloated hurt’ but like OW, you know? And it kept getting worse and worse, and then I started to feel really nauseous and hot and I was like ‘oh my god I’m gonna puke’, so I ran to the bathroom and I threw up, and then once it started it just wouldn’t stop,” Wooyoung rambled, pausing every few words to sniffle and wipe at his nose with the back of his hand in a futile attempt to stop it from dripping. San ripped off a piece of toilet paper from the roll, handing it to him and gesturing for the younger to blow his nose. Wooyoung did as told, giving his nose a forceful blow before suddenly freezing, hands still tented over his face. San looked at him worriedly, ready to jump into action if he needed to be sick again, but after a moment Wooyoung just leaned forward, stifling two small sneezes into his cupped hands.

“Bless,” San said with a sympathetic smile, patting his friend’s knee.

“Ugh, sorry. Got in my nose,” Wooyoung cringed, wiping his hands and giving his nose a final blow before balling up the used toilet paper and throwing it into the toilet.

“So like I was saying,” he continued, “I keep getting sick, and then I’ll feel better for a little bit afterwards, but then it just gets bad again. I don't know what's wrong with me, Sannie. My stomach hurts so bad..." Wooyoung trailed off, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

"My poor Wooyoungie,” San murmured, fully sitting down now. It seemed like they were in for a long night, and he figured he’d better make himself comfortable. “With how fast this came on and how many times you’ve been sick, it sounds like you might have food poisoning. Do you think you could've eaten something bad?"

"Ugh, maybe. I had tilapia at dinner, do you think that was it?"

San made a face. He never trusted seafood at hotels when they were traveling abroad, and it seemed for a good reason. Just as he was about to make this sentiment known, he saw Wooyoung straighten up abruptly, his face paling. Knowing what was about to happen, San carefully helped guide him forward, managing to position him over the toilet in time for more chunky liquid to spill from his lips into the water below. San looked away once more, focusing his attention instead on pulling Wooyoung’s hair back, gathering as much of his two toned locks as he could into a small ponytail and affixing it with a hair tie he’d pulled off his own wrist. Wooyoung’s hair wasn’t really long enough to be a problem, but San figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Cleaning vomit out of his best friend’s hair in the middle of the night was not his idea of a good bonding activity. He’d do it, of course, but ew, he would really prefer not to.

Content that the younger man’s hair was now safely out of the line of fire, San began to trace lazy shapes on Wooyoung’s back in an attempt to soothe him, whispering words of encouragement softly until he was done. After a final, particularly painful sounding cough, Wooyoung spat disgustedly into the bowl before flopping back against the wall with a groan.

“This fucking sucks,” he whined.

"I know baby, I’m so sorry,” San sympathized, leaning forward to tuck a strand of hair that hadn’t made it into the ponytail behind Wooyoung’s ear. “How are you feeling now? Any better now that you’ve got that out of you?"

“A little better, I think. Not as nauseous anymore. Still hurts, though."

"Do you want to try and drink some water?"

Wooyoung nodded his head tentatively. His stomach was still cramping badly and he wasn't completely sure he was done being sick, but with how much he’d thrown up already he knew he would likely get dehydrated if he didn’t try and get some fluids back in his system.

San made his way out of the bathroom, returning moments later with a plastic water bottle from the room’s mini bar.

"Small sips, okay?"

Wooyoung took a few sips of the water, grateful to be able to rid his mouth of the awful taste, but quickly regretted it as not even a minute later he felt the nausea begin to creep up again. With a low moan, he leaned back over the toilet in preparation for the inevitable. San continued his previous ministrations, rubbing circles on his friend’s back silently as he breathed nauseously over the water for a few minutes. Wooyoung let out a few airy burps and spat out the saliva that had begun to pool in his mouth, but nothing else came up, and for a moment he thought it might’ve been a false alarm. He was just about to say as much when a sudden gag tore up his throat, forcing him to jerk his head forward so he didn’t make a mess as he forcefully coughed up the water he had just drank, followed immediately by yet another wave of his stomach contents.

"Aigoo, I’m sorry,” San apologized. He reached a hand around to hold Wooyoung’s forehead as he continued to retch and gag loudly into the bowl, worried the younger man would nosedive into the seat with how violently he was being sick. “That was a bad idea, Youngie, I’m really sorry,” San apologized again, feeling terrible for having prompted Wooyoung to drink before he was ready. “I think your belly’s still too upset to handle having anything in it.”

“It hurts, Sannie," Wooyoung panted between coughs, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the toilet seat, desperate for something to stabilize himself as his body purged itself painfully.

"I know, baby, I know. Just let it out, l've got you." San held him steady as he continued to be sick. He was surprised at how much Wooyoung was still bringing up, despite having already been sick several times in the past couple hours. Whatever the younger had eaten really must not have agreed with him, San thought to himself. He briefly wondered how the others were doing- no one else had ordered the same thing that Wooyoung had, but hadn’t Jongho snuck a few bites off his plate? He made a mental note to send a quick text to the maknae after he’d gotten Wooyoung settled down. Their youngest member had an unusually strong stomach, and he hadn’t eaten very much, so hopefully he’d be alright, but San definitely didn’t like the idea of him being alone if he happened to be even a fraction as sick as Wooyoung was right now.

When the vomiting finally tapered off, Wooyoung gave a shaky exhale and promptly collapsed back onto San, who had positioned himself behind his sick friend to better support him through the miserable ordeal. San could feel the heat radiating off the younger man’s body as he wrapped a protective arm around him, easing him to the side so they could lean more comfortably against the bathtub behind them. It pained San to see his best friend so sick. He desperately wished he could do more to ease Wooyoung’s suffering, but he knew that the sickness just had to run its course. For now, San would just do what he could to make him feel comfortable and safe until it passed.

They sat like that for some time, the small bathroom quiet except for the sound of Wooyoung’s breathing and the light whirring of the ceiling fan San had turned on on his way in to try and clear out some of the smell. San had taken one of Wooyoung’s clammy hands in his own and was rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. The repetitive motion was soothing not only to his sick friend, but also to San’s own nerves, which were feeling rather fried after how suddenly and unexpectedly his night had turned from ‘try and get some sleep before you have to get up for work tomorrow’ to ‘try and make sure your best friend doesn’t die on the floor of a hotel bathroom in a puddle of his own bodily fluids.’

"Do you wanna try to go back to bed or do you think you're gonna be sick more?" San asked after a while, noticing that Wooyoung seemed to be falling asleep on him.

“I can’t go back to the bed, the floor, I-“ the rest of the sentence was muffled into the fabric of San’s shirt, where Wooyoung’s face was now buried, having migrated off his friend’s shoulder and onto his chest.

“What was that, baby?” San asked, reaching his hand up to lightly scratch the back of the younger man’s neck as he waited for him to repeat himself.

“I didn’t make it in time, Sannie, I made a mess,” Wooyoung finally admitted, sheepishly. San cringed a bit internally, thinking back to the towel on the floor, but didn’t let it show on his face. Wooyoung obviously already felt bad enough about it as is and he didn’t want to make him feel worse.

“Don’t worry about it baby, I’ll clean everything up and then we’ll get you settled in bed so you can get some sleep, okay?”

Wooyoung nodded, lifting his head from San’s chest, but not meeting his eyes. Now that he wasn’t actively getting sick anymore he’d been able to get his bearings a bit, and he was clearly feeling more than a little embarrassed about the whole situation. At the confirmation, San stood up from his place next to Wooyoung on the floor, his legs feeling a bit numb from the extended time sitting awkwardly on the hard tile.

“Okay, I’m gonna go see if I can get some stuff from the front desk. Just close your eyes and rest your head here, I’ll be back before you know it,” he reassured, grabbing a clean towel from the rack and placing it on the edge of the tub as a makeshift pillow. “I have my phone so you can call me if you need me, but I’ll try and be quick. Just hang tight, okay?”

Wooyoung sleepily hummed his acknowledgement. He already seemed to be drifting off again, half slumped against the tub with his knees tucked up to his chin. It looked terribly uncomfortable, but San figured he must be too exhausted to care.

***

Thirty minutes later, San had successfully gotten the floor cleaned up and had replaced the sweaty linens on the bed with clean ones. He’d even tucked Shiber into the freshly made sheets, hoping that getting to snuggle with San’s beloved plushie would lift the sick member’s spirits a bit. The front desk staff had been sympathetic and had given San some Gatorade and crackers on the house too, which he’d put on the nightstand for later when Wooyoung might be able to stomach them. The floor had been easy to clean- it had really only been a tiny puddle of vomit, as Wooyoung had thankfully been able to make it the few additional feet to the bathroom before the worst of his sickness began, but San knew he’d feel better not having to see or smell it when his stomach was still so unsettled. He’d tossed the soiled towel into the garbage can and tied the bag up, setting it to the side to be dealt with later.

San knocked softly on the bathroom door before opening it, finding Wooyoung exactly how he’d left him. He knelt down next to his friend and gently shook him awake.

“Young-ah.”

“Mmfph.”

San pouted fondly at the sleepy noise the younger made, clearly not happy at being woken up from what was the first sleep he’d been able to get all night. Cute, he thought. Sad, but cute.

“The bed’s all ready for you. Are you ready to move or do you need a minute?”

Wooyoung blinked sleepily up at him, trying to assess how he was feeling before responding.

"Y-yeah, I think I'm okay,” he said hesitantly after a moment. He was still queasy but he didn’t feel like he was going to be sick again just yet. “For now, at least."

“Alright, good, that’s good. Let’s get you to bed, baby. Scoot forward a bit and I'll help you up."

Wooyoung normally would have protested, insisting he was fine to walk on his own, but in his current state, he was grateful for the offer. He moved forward, away from his resting spot against the tub, allowing room for San to get behind him and pick him up under the arms. His head swam with dizziness as he stood up and he stumbled forward a bit, but San tightened his grip, steadying him before he could fall. Wooyoung leaned heavily back onto his friend, allowing him to carry most of his weight as they slowly made their way to the bed.

Wooyoung fell back asleep almost immediately upon laying down, clearly exhausted from having been violently ill, but not before letting out a tiny, painfully adorable squeal at the sight of Shiber waiting patiently for him on the bed. San, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. He lay next to Wooyoung, stroking the sick man’s hair gently with one hand and fiddling with the ring on his finger with the other. For the first time that night since he’d abruptly awoken to the sound of his best friend being sick and the whirlwind that had ensued in the hours that followed, he had a moment of peace and quiet. A moment to think. He knew he should be in his own room, resting up for what was undoubtedly going to be a chaotic day of schedules, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Wooyoung like this. San knew firsthand how awful it felt to be alone when you were sick, and he never wanted anyone to have to feel that way. Especially not Wooyoung. He didn’t know exactly when his feelings had changed from platonic love and professional admiration to something more, but in that one silent moment on the bathroom floor, with his best friend half asleep in his arms, looking so perfectly beautiful despite the fever flushing his cheeks and the smell of sickness still lingering in the air, San knew there was no going back. He loved Wooyoung, and he knew there was nothing more important in this moment than being there for him and making sure he was safe.

San was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a strangled gag coming from beside him. He shot out of bed immediately and ran to the bathroom to grab the trash can, mentally cursing himself for not thinking to bring it earlier. He managed to thrust it under Wooyoung’s chin just in time for him to choke up a mouthful of bile, grabbing the younger by his shoulder with his other hand to stabilize him when he pitched forward again with a guttural retch. This time the gags quickly turned unproductive, his stomach already mostly void after several rounds of sickness, and Wooyoung was soon left dry heaving painfully.

"Shh, it's okay, I think you're empty," San reassured him, using his free hand to ease Wooyoung back onto the headboard. The younger let himself be moved without a word, his eyes screwed shut and his hands gripping the edge of the comforter as he swallowed convulsively, trying to get his stomach back under control. “Try and take some deep breaths, Young-ah. I'll be right back."

San went to clean the trash can and when he came back he found Wooyoung still sitting up, arms wrapped tightly around his midsection and tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as his chest hitched with silent sobs.

"Woo? What’s wrong, baby, why are you crying?" San asked, hurriedly placing the bin back next to the bed and rushing over to his friend, hands flitting around like he didn’t know what to do with them as he tried to figure out what had happened in the few minutes he’d been gone.

"I’m sorry Sannie, this is so humiliating. You should be in your own room sleeping but instead you're stuck here taking care of me.” Wooyoung stopped to sniffle wetly, before continuing, “I'm a fully grown man and I can't even take care of myself. Can’t even make it to the bathroom without making a mess. I am disgusting. I’m disgusting and I’m weak and I’m-"

San cut him off, "Hey hey hey, listen to me. It's not your fault you're sick, okay? It happens to everyone. It doesn't make you weak and it certainly doesn't make you disgusting." He paused for a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to wipe an errant tear from Wooyoung’s cheek with his thumb before continuing, "Woo, you could never be gross to me, okay? I promise.”

Either soothed by his friend’s reassuring words or simply too exhausted to keep crying, Wooyoung sighed heavily, letting his head fall forward onto San’s shoulder. He wanted to tell him how much it meant to him that he stayed. He wanted to tell him that he never wanted him to leave. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, but all he managed to say was, “Thank you.”

***

The night was long. Wooyoung was able to get a little bit of sleep between episodes, but San wasn't so lucky. It seemed as soon as he was able to get everything cleaned up and settle back down, Wooyoung was awake again. It was around 4am when the vomiting finally stopped, and the pair were left completely drained- Wooyoung from being sick and San from being awake all night, ferrying back and forth between the bed and the bathroom to clean up so Wooyoung wouldn’t have to spend the night on the cold bathroom floor. Although Wooyoung’s stomach seemed to have finally calmed down, San knew he shouldn't leave him alone since he was still running a fever. He also knew that their wake up call was at 6:30, and he needed to at least try to get a few hours of sleep so he wouldn't be a complete zombie during the day’s activities. Wooyoung would no doubt be cleared from his schedules for the day, but being sleep deprived was not enough to grant San permission to sit out alongside him. Not wanting to disturb Wooyoung, who seemed to finally be getting some restful sleep, San stepped into the hallway to call Yeosang. The older man had a habit of waking up unreasonably early to have some quiet time alone before their hectic schedules, so San knew that, out of all the members, he was the most likely to be awake.

After a few rings, a vaguely sleepy "Hello?" came from the other end of the line.

"Hey, Sangie. Did I wake you?"

"No, you're good, I've been up for like fifteen minutes. What's up, San? It’s early.”

"Wooyoungie’s sick,” San started, not wanting to waste any time with formalities. “l've been up with him all night, he’s running a fever and he can’t keep anything down- we think it might be food poisoning from the fish he had at dinner. He finally settled down a little while ago, and I was hoping you could come stay with him so I could try and get some sleep. He’s not throwing up anymore so you shouldn't need to clean up or anything, but I just don't feel good leaving him alone after all that, you know?”

Yeosang wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t the biggest fan of dealing with sick people, but Wooyoung and San were two of his best friends and he’d do anything for them.

"Aigoo, poor Youngie,” he frowned, “give me five, I'll be right over."

“Thank you, Sang. I’m sorry you had to be the one I asked, I know you don’t do well with this kind of stuff, but I figured you’d be the only one awake and I didn’t wanna piss off Hongjoong hyung by interrupting his beauty sleep and Seonghwa hyung has been so tired and-“

“It’s fine, Sannie, really,” Yeosang cut him off, “I know you wouldn’t ask if you didn’t need to, and I’m happy to help. I’ll see you guys soon- do you need me to bring anything?”

“No, I think we’re all set here. The front desk gave me some crackers and Gatorade so maybe he can try those later if he’s feeling up for it, but he’s asleep right now so all you really need to do is watch him and make sure he doesn’t, like, choke on his puke in his sleep or anything.”

“Lovely. Thanks for that visual, San,” Yeosang grimaced, hanging up the call.

San went back over to sit on the bed while he waited for Yeosang. He looked at Wooyoung, finally sleeping peacefully next to him, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d be holding. It had been a grueling night and San was utterly spent. His head was pounding from the lack of sleep, his clothes smelled vaguely of cleaning solution, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to eat tilapia again, but more than anything else he was feeling in that moment, he was relieved. Relieved that he’d woken up all those hours ago instead of sleeping through the noise. Relieved that whatever god awful thing had been tormenting Wooyoung’s body finally seemed to be almost done with him. Relieved that he’d been able to be there for his friend so he didn’t have to suffer by himself. The thought of Wooyoung being alone all night, as horribly sick and miserable as he had been, made San’s heart clench painfully, and he was just so fucking relieved that he was able to be there instead.

After a few minutes, San heard a knock on the door. Whispering his thanks to Yeosang, San headed back to his own room for some much needed sleep, but not before sending Jongho a series of quick texts.

San Hyung: hey, are you feeling okay?

San Hyung: Wooyoungie’s sick, we think it might be the fish you guys ate 🤢

San Hyung: Yeosang is taking over for me here so if you need anything, call him

San Hyung: please don’t die!

***

Wooyoung woke up to the sound of typing, the rhythmic noise quietly audible in the otherwise silent room. He opened his eyes slowly, but immediately shut them again when a wave of nausea crashed over him. He waited for it to run its course, knowing he had nothing left in his body to throw up. When it finally passed, he rolled over, straining his eyes to try and read the alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:25am it flashed back at him in bold red letters. Wooyoung cursed his internal body clock for waking him up on time when he knew that being cleared from schedules for the day would’ve meant he was allowed to sleep in as long as he wanted.

Upon lifting his head from the pillow, Wooyoung was surprised to see a familiar figure perched on the armchair on the other side of the room, computer balanced on his knee and a light scowl on his face as he focused intently on something on the screen.

"Yeosang?" he called, cringing a bit at how rough his voice sounded from the strain of repeated vomiting. "What are you doing here?"

Yeosang looked up from his laptop with a bit of a start, evidently too engrossed in whatever he’d been working on to have realized the younger had woken up. He quickly made his way over to his friend, positioning himself on the side of the bed at Wooyoung’s feet. "Hey, Young-ah. San asked me to come keep an eye on you so he could get some sleep. How are you feeling?" The question was punctuated with a cold hand on Wooyoung’s forehead as Yeosang reached forward to check his temperature. “It seems like your fever went down.”

Wooyoung immediately felt a stab of guilt at the mention of San’s name. Shit. Wooyoung had kept him up all night, he must be exhausted and he was probably mad at him, and what if he had said something weird? He remembered crying but couldn’t remember what he’d *said*, what if he accidentally-

"Woo? Are you okay? Do you need the bin? Shit, where the hell did San put it, I thought he said you-“

Wooyoung looked up at Yeosang, who looked equal parts concerned and like he wanted to run out of the room, and realized his spacing out had given the ever so slightly squeamish member the impression that he was likely seconds away from throwing up all over the floor.

“I’m fine, Sangie, I’m not gonna be sick,” Wooyoung interrupted him before his panic could escalate. “I’m just… thinking.”

Visibly relaxing once the threat of imminent sickness was off the table, Yeosang stopped his frantic pacing and sat back down on the bed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle vomit, he just… strongly preferred not to.

“Oh? And what is it you’re thinking about so intently at this hour?” he prompted, handing Wooyoung the bottle of Gatorade that San had left for him on the bedside table. “San said to try and drink a bit of this if you’re feeling up for it. Slowly.” He added the last word after a moment of thought, remembering how San had mentioned Wooyoung had trouble even keeping water down in the hours prior. He so did not want to be cleaning up neon blue vomit at six in the morning.

Wooyoung frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He took a tentative sip of the drink, then another when his stomach didn’t immediately protest at the introduction of the cool liquid. God, he felt hollow. Had he thrown up his actual organs last night? It felt like he had.

“I feel bad. About San, I mean. Well, I feel bad in general, but I really feel bad about San.”

“Why, did something happen?” Yeosang inquired. He scooted himself the rest of the way onto the bed so he was seated across from Wooyoung, who was now fully sitting up with his head resting back against the headboard, absentmindedly picking at the label of the Gatorade bottle in his hands.

“You mean besides him spending the entire night cleaning my puke? I- Sorry-“ he mumbled when he caught a glimpse of the mildly disgusted look on his friend’s face. Yeosang waved him off, and he continued, “I just feel guilty. He said it was fine, but I know he was lying. No one wants to spend their time looking after a sick person, it’s gross. I’m gross.”

Yeosang looked incredulous. “Young-ah, you know this is San we’re talking about, right? The San who would drop everything and run the moment he knew you needed something? The San who would give you the shirt off his back, and probably his pants and shoes too if you asked for them? That San?”

Wooyoung didn’t meet his eyes.

Yeosang scooted forward, trying to get a better look at his friend’s face. “What’s going on with you? It’s not like San hasn’t seen you sick before, why is it such a big deal this time?”

Before Wooyoung could respond, Yeosang’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.

🪨: I’m at the door. didn’t wanna knock in case Youngie’s still sleeping. can you let me in?

“Sannie’s here,” Yeosang relayed, already moving to answer the door. He turned back to point at Wooyoung before opening it. “This conversation isn’t over,” he warned, although his tone was light as he did so. He wasn’t upset, just concerned at his usually unabashed friend’s sudden insecurity.

Wooyoung could hear their hushed conversation from his place on the bed as Yeosang filled San in on the details of the rest of their night. ‘No, he hasn’t thrown up again (thank god). Yes, he’s still running a fever, but I think it’s lower than when you left. No, he hasn’t tried to eat anything yet, but he’s been able to keep down some Gatorade, but surely that much colored dye can’t be good for a sick person, right?’ Yeosang conveniently left out the part about Wooyoung definitely acting weird as fuck. Good, Wooyoung thought.

Why was it such a big deal this time? He repeated Yeosang’s question to himself while the two older members talked quietly in the doorway, trying to figure out what suddenly felt so different. Out of the dozens of times San had seen him sick, or hurt, or crying… why was he suddenly embarrassed this time? He normally had no problems with being vulnerable. He cried openly, complained even more so, and famously loved being doted on when he was sick. So why was it such a big deal this time? Wooyoung repeated the question again, but he already knew the answer, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. Something had shifted that night for him, a feeling he’d been trying to ignore for months out of fear of ruining the dynamic of the group or worse, his friendship with San. There had been a brief moment when he’d opened the door, just a split second before his stomach sent him scrambling back over the toilet, where he’d made eye contact with San. San, eyes still half lidded with sleep, tightly clutching Shiber under his arm, looking so worried. About him. Suddenly Wooyoung couldn’t ignore it, and now the idea of San seeing him vulnerable just didn’t feel easy the way it did with everyone else anymore. Wooyoung sighed, dragging the back of his hand across his face. He wanted to go back to sleep and pretend none of this had ever happened.

Stupid, nasty fish, he thought to himself with a huff. Ruining everything good in my life.

“I’ll go fill Hongjoong hyung in on what happened so he can let the managers know,” Yeosang told San, before peeking his head back around the corner to wave goodbye to Wooyoung. “Feel better Youngie! We’ll tell ATINY you miss them!”

Wooyoung offered his friend a small smile, returning the wave as the older member left the room, before turning his attention to San, who was already making his way over to the bed. A worried frown tugged at his lips upon seeing the state his friend was in. Wooyoung was expecting him to be tired, given how little sleep he must’ve been able to get that night, but San looked utterly beat. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was a mess, sticking up oddly on the side in a way Wooyoung wasn’t unfamiliar with seeing on the likes of Yunho or Jongho, but rarely on their perfectly poised San, and man, had those dark circles been there last night? Wooyoung was too out of it to have noticed. San still looked handsome- when did he not?- and it was nothing the stylist noonas couldn’t fix with a little bit of concealer and some hair gel, but the evidence of the night’s events were written clearly on his face and it made Wooyoung’s stomach turn with a familiar guilt. Had he even stopped to wash his face, or had he woken up and immediately come to check on Wooyoung?

"How are you feeling, baby?" San asked through a yawn as he went to take up Yeosang’s former position on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh over the covers, and Wooyoung felt his heart skip a beat.

"Like flaming garbage, but at least I don't feel like I'm about to puke my guts out every 15 minutes anymore," Wooyoung laughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry for keeping you up, by the way. You didn't need to stay, I was fine."

San scoffed in disbelief. "Woo, you were most definitely not fine. You threw up like a million times and you were running a pretty gnarly fever. Yeosang said you haven’t been sick again since I left though, and he thinks your fever went down, so that’s good.” He placed a hand on Wooyoung’s forehead to confirm his findings, giving a satisfied nod at the relative coolness he found compared to the prior night. “Probably means whatever nasty thing you ate is almost out of your system now.”

Wooyoung hummed in agreement, taking another sip of his Gatorade.

“Besides,” San continued, shifting his hand from Wooyoung’s forehead to tuck a stray bit of hair behind his ear, “I wanted to stay.”

Wooyoung paused with the bottle halfway to his lips, looking up to meet San’s gaze. He looked tired, but he didn’t look mad or disgusted, like Wooyoung had expected him to be. Quite the opposite, in fact. There was something soft in his eyes, something that made Wooyoung’s stomach flip in an entirely different way than it had been doing all night.

“Why though? I mean yeah, I know I was sick, but you could’ve called Seonghwa hyung to come over. He’s usually the one who deals with things like this.” Wooyoung didn’t know if it was the residual fever making him feel bold, or that spark of whatever he’d seen in San’s eye, but he couldn’t help but push.

“I didn’t want Seonghwa to be the one taking care of you. I wanted to do it.”

“But why?”

San paused for a moment, gathering the courage to get the words out. He hadn’t planned on confessing like this, but after the night the two had shared, suddenly the idea of keeping his feelings to himself any longer felt unbearable.

“Because I love you, Wooyoung,” he finally managed to say.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You… love me?”

“Yes, I love you. I’m in love with you. However you wanna say it.” San rested his eyes on Wooyoung’s face, who suddenly looked like he’d been asked to try and understand rocket science. San knew he should probably feel exasperated at his friend’s utter cluelessness, but honestly, he couldn’t help but feel a bit endeared. Even with his hair a mess, still half up in the ponytail San had thrown it into the night before, even with his skin pale and clammy from a fever that hadn’t quite broken yet, even after having cleaned his stomach contents off the floor (and his own shirt after one particular instance he’d rather not remember the details of in the midst of that entire awful night)… even with all that, Wooyoung still looked beautiful. “Woo?” He gently called the younger’s name after he didn’t answer.

Wooyoung scrunched his nose in thought, trying to make sense of what he’d just been told, trying to think of a way to respond to his best friend so plainly reflecting back to him what he’d been trying all night to pretend he didn’t feel. His brain felt like mush, his stomach still felt a bit unsettled despite no longer actively feeling like he was going to turn himself inside out, and he felt weirdly sticky all over. This was not what he’d been expecting, at all.

“Oh,” he finally settled on once more, his feverish brain having tried and failed to come up with an adequate response.

“Is that all you have to say? Mr.Chatterbox suddenly at a loss for words?” San teased. He, too, was feeling bolder than he ought to be, considering the man he’d just confessed his feelings to was currently staring at him like he’d grown another head, but something in his gut told him it was okay, and now that he’d gotten the words out, all he felt was a strange sense of calm.

Wooyoung thought for another second, glancing down at his still fidgeting hands, before raising his eyes to meet San’s once more. “Can I kiss you?”

Now, it was San’s turn to be rendered speechless.

***

Author’s Note: Jongho, our beloved maknae with a stomach of steel, was entirely fine with not even the slightest hint of a stomach ache to complain of. He did, however, find great amusement in the idea of his hyung being taken down a piece of fish, although he was nice enough to save the brunt of his teasing until after Wooyoung could bear to be in the same room as seafood without gagging again.

#emeto sickfic

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#emeto sickfic