sickonthedancefloor

[sickonthedancefloor]

YOONGI 🥹

[sickonthedancefloor]

Bread Bowl

Title: Bread Bowl

Word Count: 818

Sickie: Jungkook

Caretaker: Taehyung (romantic)

A/N: almost forgot I have this silly little drabble to post. inspired by this bread bowl text tiktok

“I have to go to work, baby.” 

Taehyung tries to tug his arm free from Jungkook’s grip, but his boyfriend doesn’t let go. Sighing, he sinks back down onto the edge of the bed and leans over to press a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek. He can’t help but smile when Jungkook leans into the touch, huffing out a stuffy little sigh of contentment.

“I promise it’ll go by fast. Just stay in bed and get some rest, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t leave me,” Jungkook pouts congestedly. “I’m sick.”

“I know, baby. I’ll bring you something to eat during my lunch break, okay?” 

Taehyung knows he’s said the right thing– food is always the right thing, when it comes to Jungkook. 

“Soup?”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

Jungkook thinks about it for a moment. Taehyung uses the distraction to pull his arm free. He stands up and carefully tucks a tissue box in Jungkook’s grasp instead, holding back a laugh as Jungkook immediately clings to it instead, his arm curling tightly around the box.

“What’s that one kind of soup you always get? The one inside of the bread? I want the soup bread.”

“The bread bowl? Okay! Do you want chicken noodle soup, or broccoli cheddar?”

“I want the bread one.”

“You can get any soup in the bread bowl, baby. How about chicken noodle?”

Nodding, Jungkook’s pout returns to his face. “As long as it has the bread bowl.” 

“Noted. Bread bowl for my cute sickie-poo.” 

Taehyung chances moving back toward the bed so he can tuck the comforter around Jungkook’s shoulders, and then leans down to kiss him on the forehead. “Rest. I’ll see you at noon.”

Jungkook doesn’t look very happy about being abandoned, but he’s also too sleepy now to do much about it. He nods at Taehyung, eyes half-lidded, and sniffles softly. “‘Kay. See you.”

*

*

Taehyung is just returning from lunch when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and ducks into an empty conference room, in case Jungkook wants to talk on the phone– but it’s just a text message from his boyfriend. Still, he settles into a chair and quickly types out a reply.

*

All of the lights in the apartment are off when Taehyung gets home. He quietly toes off his shoes and takes the plastic bag he’s carrying into the kitchen, setting it on the counter before he makes his way toward the bedroom. He can hear the sound of Jungkook coughing as he approaches, so he returns to the kitchen to grab water first.

Jungkook is lying in bed scrolling through his phone when Taehyung pushes the door open. He has one sleeve of his hoodie pressed against his mouth and nose, and he sneezes once, coughing again afterward as Taehyung climbs into bed next to him.

“You sound worse than you did this morning,” he comments, reaching out to press his palm to Jungkook’s forehead. “How are you feeling?” 

Jungkook doesn’t give an answer. He just sniffles, wipes his nose with his sleeve, and squints at his phone. 

Sighing, Taehyung cards his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. “Are you mad at me?”

Still no response. Taehyung glances over at the nightstand, pleased to see that there’s an empty water bottle among the mountain of tissues. 

“It’s not that weird, you know,” Jungkook suddenly says. He’s pouting and Taehyung has to resist the urge to lean down and kiss him. 

“What’s not weird?”

“Eating bread. With soup. It’s a perfectly normal lunch.”

“Right. If that’s what you want to eat. But usually people would just get bread in normal form, and not bread bowl form, if they’re eating it like that.”

Taehyung panics when he sees tears well up in Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sorry, baby, I was just teasing! Don’t cry, I got you another one!” 

Jungkook sniffles wetly and blinks up at Taehyung, his chin quivering. “Another what?”

“Another bread bowl. I’ll be right back!”

He leaps out of the bed and hurries out to the kitchen, returning with the plastic bag. 

In the time he’s gone, Jungkook has sat up and is now sitting cross-legged in bed, his phone discarded on his pillow next to him. 

“Here. You can have a do-over. I got broccoli cheddar this time, though.” Taehyung pulls the food container from the bag and holds it out to Jungkook.  

Now Jungkook is actually crying, but Taehyung is pretty sure it’s a good thing. 

“Will you pour the soup in for me?” Jungkook croaks out, reaching for a tissue so he can blow his nose. 

“Of course. Do you want me to feed you, too?” 

Jungkook nods, his eyes shining over the top of his tissue. 

Taehyung leans over and kisses him on the forehead, smiling fondly. “Okay. You’re so cute. I love you, sickie-poo. Now, get ready for the best bread bowl of your life.” 

[sickonthedancefloor]

actually, it's rocktan sonyeodan. and i'm a big fan.

[sickonthedancefloor]

Hi how are you doing

I just wanted to ask because I know you are busy but I wanted to ask if you are welling to write something seungcheol centric, I was craving a sick cheol fic and ao3 keeps failing me

I am not picky I just want a fix of him being very sick and loved

If you can’t I understand

Vulnerability

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: S.Coups (flu)

Word Count: 849

Notes: I GOT YOU! I had the image of 'sad sickie eating cereal at 2am,' and this fit so perfectly into that.

On his way back from grabbing a quick glass of water in the bathroom at 2am, Jeonghan paused at a noise from downstairs. He peeked over the railing, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of pale light seeping from the kitchen doorway. Interested, Jeonghan slipped quietly down the stairs, thankful he was wearing socks to keep his presence hidden until he wanted it known. 

Padding closer to the kitchen entrance, Jeonghan’s eyes fell on a figure sitting at the kitchen table. And even in profile, with his back turned mostly to the doorway, Jeonghan knew instantly that it was Seungcheol. His leader, his best friend, his very, very sick leader best friend, sitting in the kitchen at 2 in the morning. Eating a bowl of cereal. And… oh my god, and crying. 

“Cheollie.” Jeonghan’s voice was gentle, not too loud to startle Seungcheol as the vocalist rushed to his side. As the leader turned to look at him with round, fever bright eyes,  Jeonghan confirmed that, yes, those were tear tracks staining Seungcheol’s cheek. Jeonghan’s gaze roved over the leader’s body, looking for anyway signs of injury. “Sweetie, what’re you doing down here?”

Seungcheol swallowed slowly, wincing at the movement. “I was hungry,” he answered, sniffling sharply, rubbing at an eye with the heel of his hand. 

Jeonghan turned his attention to the table, at the bowl of plain cereal the leader had a spoon held over. “Nice choice.” Seungcheol nodded, sniffling as he took another bite. Jeonghan’s hand found its way into Seungcheol’s hair, combing through the messy strands. “And why are you crying?”

“I don’t even know,” Seungcheol replied with a smallest laugh at himself, dropping his spoon against the bowl with a soft clink. “I just…” He sighed. “I just feel so bad, Hannie.” His voice broke again, fresh tears spilling down his face.  “And I poured too much.” Seungcheol gestured towards the half-filled bowl of cereal. “And I can’t put it back…” His voice caught and he bent away from Jeonghan, a throat-ripping cough caught in his sleeve. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jeonghan rubbed Seungcheol’s back until he regained his breath. As Seungcheol swiped at his eyes again, Jeonghan plucked a few tissues from the box on the table (one Seungcheol must’ve toted down here himself,) and placed them in the leader’s hands. “Here, I’ll take your bowl and cover it with plastic wrap, and you can finish it later, yeah?” Jeonghan suggested, grabbing the bowl. Seungcheol nodded, dabbing at his eyes before blowing his nose. 

Jeonghan’s lips curled into the smallest, tender smile as he turned his back on Seungcheol, offering him the smallest amount of privacy to get it together as he moved to the counter and got out the plastic wrap. Of course there was no need for Seungcheol to ‘get it together,’ Jeonghan couldn’t care less, but he also knew his leader, who loathed appearing weak, even while he championed others embracing their humanity. Was it hypocritical? Yeah. But Jeonghan let it slide for his Cheollie. 

“Hhe’Etshu!”

“Bless youuu~” Jeonghan singsonged, pulling the wrap over the cereal bowl. 

“H’ETshu!”

“Bless you!”

“ETchu!!”

“You want me to start cursing you?” Jeonghan turned around, hand on his hip. Seungcheol groaned, sniffling deeply as he glared back at Jeonghan. The vice leader chuckled. “I’m sorry, I thought that would make you laugh.” 

Seungcheol groaned again, rubbing at his temples. “Hannieeeee… I hate this!” 

Jeonghan clicked his tongue, hugging Seungcheol’s shoulders and pulling the leader’s head to his chest. “I know, my angel. I know.” 

“I don’t wanna miss more work,” Seungcheol choked out, biting his lip to stop himself from crying more. Which they both knew was going to happen whether he wanted to or not. “I know, sweetheart.” It broke Jeonghan’s heart: the uncharacteristic whining, the raw, ragged voice, the open tears, all of it. Seungcheol was the type to swallow his pain, releasing it in small bursts with those he trusted most. Sure, Jeonghan had seen Seungcheol cry countless times. But this was different - this wasn’t performance perfection anxiety or leader responsibility break down. This was guilt for something over which he had no control. And that made Jeonghan’s job all the harder and more important. “But there’s nothing more we can do. We just have to keep you medicated and hydrated, and let your immune system catch up.”

“I know.” He sniffled harshly as he pulled away from Jeonghan, enough to sit on his own, but still close to his best friend’s healing aura. He swiped violently at his flushed cheeks. “God, why am I crying so much?!” 

“That’s the flu, honey.” Jeonghan laughed and placed his hands around those cheeks as if they were the most precious thing in the world. “You’re allowed to be fragile, Cheol. You don’t need to apologize for crying or being sick or anything. Accept the time to rest, and get back to it when you can. We’re all rooting for you, buddy.”

For the first time, Seugncheol shot him a teary smile. “I love you, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“And I love you, Choi Seungcheol.”

[sickonthedancefloor]

you might have already written this, maybe I just can't find it 😅 but since you headcanon vernon as emetophobic, I feel like the "denying being sick" trope would work so well with him! like, he feels off, but brushes it off out of fear, and when he's eventually sick he gets really worked up. the hurt/comfort possibilities are endless 😆

Denial

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Vernon

Word Count: 1,425

Notes: I don't think I've ever fully written Vernon denying being sick, and it was kinda neat to write because I do the same thing 😅 Hope you enjoy, sweet anon!

Mingyu wasn’t quite sure how the day had ended up here: his back smashed against the bathtub, his legs folded up and stuck under a lapful of sleeping Hansol, tear tracks drying on the younger man’s cheeks while his arms wound tightly around Mingyu’s stomach. But, the more he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised.

~~~

Hansol had been off all day. From the moment he’d entered the practice room, his vibe had been… jumpy. Seungkwan had grabbed his arm immediately, pulling the rapper to the side, worried eyes roving over him. 

“You good?” Seungkwan whispered, voice warm yet concerned. 

Hansol smiled, small and shy, but still a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just didn’t sleep well.” Seungkwan’s forehead creased with deeper concern. Hansol grabbed his hand. “Nothing to worry about, Kwannie.”

Seungkwan’s glare didn’t let up. “Why didn’t you sleep well?”

Hansol shrugged. “Couldn’t get my brain to shut off. Guess I shouldn’t have had coffee at 6pm.” Seungkwan nodded, squeezing Hansol’s hand before letting go, letting Hansol go get ready for dance practice. But there was something in his voice, something about the way he was carrying himself, that left a sour taste in Seungkwan’s mouth. There was a tension in his body that betrayed more than a lack of sleep. And Seungkwan was determined to find out what. 

~~~

“Sollie, what’s going on?” On a water break after five consecutive runs of their newest choreography, Soonyoung had sidled up next to the rapper. His tone was casual, light, but firm: the dance captain questioning his performer. He’d noticed that while Hansol was completing each step, there was something missing. His movements were robotic, sometimes even what could be called ‘jerky’ or ‘uncoordinated,’ incredibly not Hansol. 

The rapper shrugged. “Just having an off day,” he muttered, trying not to draw further attention as he could feel eyes watching them. A cold sweat had broken out on the back of his neck, running uncomfortably down his spine. Hansol swallowed hard, choosing to focus on that sensation rather than the incessant ache in the pit of his stomach. 

Soonyoung didn’t miss the look of unease poorly masked behind Hansol’s typical nonchalance. He tapped the younger man’s shoulder. “Okay, well if anything changes, tell me, okay?” Hansol simply nodded and moved back to the dance floor. Soonyoung shook his head, and when he turned around, he met Seungkwan’s piercing gaze. The vocalist nodded towards Hansol. Soonyoung shook his head again, then slid his eyes towards Joshua. Seungkwan nodded. Message received. 

~~~

“Hey bud.” Joshua slid into the seat next to Hansol in the van, and the younger man felt his stomach drop in a way that had nothing to do with the way it had been twisting and turning all day. Joshua smiled soft and warm. “What’s going on, Nonie?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Hansol gave a weak laugh, attempting humor. He knew he’d failed based on the sympathetic flash in Joshua’s eyes. The rapper shook his head, leaning against the window. “I don’t know, hyung. Just a rough day.”

“Are you sure?”

Hansol pressed his lips together, gazing out the window. The blur of the traffic made him feel dizzy, spurring a violent flip in his stomach. Hansol squeezed his eyes shut. 

He felt Joshua’s fingers wrap around his own. “Sollie? Please?” The rapper simply shook his head. Joshua squeezed his hand. “Chwe Hansol, are you sick?” 

“No,” Hansol hissed, giving a sharp shake of his head. But he didn’t pull away when he felt a cool touch against his cheek. He heard Joshua hum, felt the comfort of his touch disappear. Still, Hansol didn’t open his eyes. Didn’t see Joshua turn to Seungcheol behind him, only to find the leader looking worriedly at his phone.

“What is it?” Joshua whispered, not to attract any unwanted attention. Luckily, Seokmin and Chan were goofing around next to Seungcheol, unknowingly creating the perfect diversion. 

Seungcheol’s eyes were worried when they met Joshua’s. “Hannie just texted. Hao just threw up in the other car.” Joshua felt his own stomach drop in response. Seungcheol frowned, a hopeless pout of his lips. “Any chance it could be motion sickness? Food poisoning?”

“Cheollie…” Joshua nodded towards Hansol. 

The leader’s eyes narrowed in question. “You don’t think…”

“He’s pale and panicky and too warm for comfort,” Joshua whispered, shaking his head. “Kwannie came to me earlier and said he was worried about Hansol. Looks like he was right.”

Seungcheol sighed, pinching the spot between his eyes. “This could be very, very bad.”

~~~

Once they’d gotten home, Hansol had been able to slip away from Joshua, slip away from everyone in the anxious chaos of Minghao’s illness. While he’d been too focused on his own breathing to quell the dizziness of the car’s movement to overhear Seungcheol and Joshua’s conversation, he hadn’t been able to avoid the obvious when their car pulled into the driveway next to the first one, next to Junhei kneeling next to Minghao, helplessly retching into the grass, while Jeonghan attempted to steer everyone else away and inside, giving the dancer a mere modicum of privacy. 

Hansol had happily run inside, to the safety of his own room as his eyes began to well up with tears. Hansol knew something was wrong from the second he’d woken up to a knot in the pit of his stomach. But he’d brushed it off because, quite frankly, he couldn’t be sick. Not like this, anyway. As he’d stood up, gone about getting ready for the day, his knees had felt like jell-o and a pulse had started beating in his head. Still, Hansol had swallowed the pain away with a few ibuprofen tablets and the smallest bowl of rice he could choke down to maintain the perfect balance between upsetting his unsettled stomach and getting scolded for not eating before practice. Because he couldn’t be sick.

Of course practice had been a nightmare. The shaky feeling intensified with each repetition, the pulse in his brain growing into a violent throb, the knot in his stomach growing angrier by the second. Seungkwan had clocked him immediately, Soonyoung not long after. Eventually, everyone’s eyes had found their way to Hansol, and he had to pretend he was fine. Had to maintain that mask of normality despite the awful truth of his situation. 

But seeing Minghao so sick in the driveway? That had been the final straw. Hansol couldn’t deny the truth anymore. If Minghao was sick, then so was he. And he only had so long before the inevitable happened to him too. 

“Hansol?” 

The rapper whirled around to the door, meeting Joshua’s worried gaze. Mingyu loomed in the doorway behind him. Before he could more than register what was happening, Joshua was right next to him, gently pulling Hansol’s hands away from his ears. 

“Honey, what can I do?” Joshua asked, one hand still holding Hansol’s while the other brushed away the tears from the younger man’s cheek. 

Hansol sniffled. “I don’t wanna…” His voice broke, head falling forward, embarrassed. He couldn’t even say it. 

“It’s okay, Sollie. It’s gonna be okay.” Joshua’s arms wrapped around him, began to lead him forward. Hansol sobbed again, hiding his face in his hands as he second arm wrapped around his other shoulder and hurried him down the hall. 

Hansol didn’t remember much more after that. His brain went into autopilot, blocking out the inevitable moment when his body turned itself inside out, thankfully in the privacy of the bathroom. Of course, Joshua and Mingyu were there, physically holding him up and promising him everything would be okay, but somehow that didn’t matter much to Hansol. He hated vomiting with a burning passion, hated losing control and making a mess and having other people see him in such a state. But he was also human. And while the thought of another person touching his sweaty skin, willingly getting so close to him puking, made him wanted to shrivel up into a ball and die, having two of the people he trusted most in the world with him in his most vulnerable moment meant everything. 

~~~

Which was how, twenty minutes later, Mingyu wound up with a teary, exhausted Hansol passed out in his lap, while Joshua went to grab some supplies for the long night ahead. And there was no place he’d rather be. (Okay, there were actually a ton of places he’d rather be, but if this helped his brother feel even the slightest bit better, Mingyu would never deny him anything.)

[sickonthedancefloor]

Famous Last Words (Part 4)

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie/Whumpee (so far): DK, Joshua, Jun

Word Count: 1,876

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here!)

Notes: The performance.

Seungcheol met back up with the team in the dressing room after sound check. Hayoon had returned to rehearsal as soon as they’d gotten Junhei to the clinic, but Seungcheol refused to leave him, especially when he had to be transferred to a real hospital (only because there was, obviously, no MRI machine at the studio). 

“Doctors say it was a knee subluxation, caused by an over-rotation during the fall,” the leader explained, absently rubbing at his lower back, sore now from carrying most of Jun’s weight all the way to the clinic, (a worthwhile pain, if you asked him). “Hayoon tried to hold onto Jun’s leg to keep him safe, but ended up putting too much pressure on the knee, knocking it out of place, but none of the muscles are torn, so that’s the best case scenario there. And his back is probably just strained, no breaks or anything.” A makeup artist ushered him into a chair, and Seungcheol complied readily. 

“Thank god,” Mingyu sighed, tension he didn’t know he’d been holding releasing from his shoulders.

“It’s not your fault,” Joshua whispered to him, gently rubbing said shoulders. Seokmin also came over to pat him on the back. 

“Feels like it.” 

“If anything, it’s my fault, Gyu.” Seungkwan leaned over from his makeup chair, tapping Mingyu’s back while the hair stylist paused to grab a different product. “I stopped. You ran into me. It’s me.”

“Yeah, why did you just stop?”

Seungkwan’s body froze, his face falling blank as his eyes snapped to Soonyoung in the mirror. The dancer’s eyes, even in reflection, were cold. “What?”

“Why did you just stop in the middle of dancing like that? You know how stupid that was, right?” 

The room went silent, a thick, suffocating tension filling the room. 

Seungkwan’s expression darkened, his cheeks flaring crimson. “Well, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stop if…”

“FIFTEEN MINUTES!” a production assistant called into the open doorway, shattering the discomfort of the moment. 

“You heard ‘em. Let’s get moving!” Jihoon shook his head with an air of finality. “Moaning about Junnie’s absence isn’t going to fix things. We’re here. We’re about to perform. We need sex god Mingyu, not kicked puppy Mingyu.” Mingyu’s cheeks flared red, and someone (probably Minghao) snorted out a laugh from somewhere in the studio. The tension broken, chatter between the members started up again as they raced to finish getting ready. Jihoon, however, kept his attention focused evenly on Soonyoung and Seungkwan, watching the negativity roll of both of them in ominous waves. Something was definitely wrong there, but fifteen minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to solve it. That would have to wait. 

Once all the members were ready, they were shepherded to the sound stage. As soon as they entered the set, they were in professional mode: completely zoned in, respectful of the director, and ready to go. The members listened to the director’s goals, got in position, and began to dance. While they were using backtracks, many of the members still performed their lines live, making for an even more energetic performance. 

After running through the choreo for the first song twice, the director called a hold to check the footage and make sure they were getting what they wanted. As the members milled about, Seungcheol sidled next to Seokmin. 

“How are you?” the leader asked, rubbing the vocalist’s shoulder. Seokmin shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Of course Seungcheol knew that Seokmin had lost his voice that morning after a week of busy schedules, forced to talk on variety shows and sing beyond even his limit. The whole group knew. But that didn’t mean Seokmin had to be happy about it. He knew how to sing properly, how to keep his voice healthy. But even when he was doing everything right, he couldn’t prevent the inevitable: overuse. When he’d opened his mouth that morning during rehearsal, no sound came out at all, and it frustrated him beyond comprehension. They’d tried everything throughout the day to coax his voice out, but his vocal cords just wouldn’t cooperate. 

And, even though Seokmin was cheesing up his performance with killer facials and energetic dance moves, Seungcheol could see him breaking inside. The leader’s hand moved to hold the vocalist’s. “I know lip-syncing is hard for you. But at least this isn’t a live, and you’re nailing sound check so far, from what I’ve seen at least, so no one’s gonna know. Which doesn’t mean much when you’re as talented as you. So just remember that you’re amazing, and not letting anyone down, yeah?” 

Seokmin met his eyes then, revealing the shining layer of tears Seungcheol knew would be there. 

Seungcheol clicked his tongue and opened his arms. “Come here.” Seokmin wrapped his arms around Seungcheol’s torso, face smashed against the leader’s collarbone. Seungcheol squeezed him hard until they heard the director calling them all back to their marks. 

Seokmin pulled away, shaking his head to clear it. He mouthed a heartfelt thank you, including the sign as well. Seungcheol nodded, squeezing Seokmin’s shoulder one last time and grabbing his hand before moving to join the rest of the members as the director announced that the footage they’d recorded already was perfect, and they could move on to the next track. 

~~~

The rest of the performance went incredibly well given the circumstances. The pressure of reblocking so quickly had helped solidify the temporary changes in everyone’s brain, and the dancing had gone off without a hitch. Or, at least, almost without a hitch. During the second run of HOME;RUN, Jeonghan had gotten confused and gone the wrong way, tripping into Wonwoo, who, in turn, fell into Soonyoung. It was, in reality, a tiny mess up, one viewers wouldn’t even notice in the recording. But, in the moment, Soonyoung had shot Wonwoo a glare that pierced his soul, and the performance captain had muttered a disappointed, “I’m getting real tired of you dropping the ball, Woo,” into the rapper’s ear as they set for the next number. It wasn’t unusual for Soonyoung to drop such lines during an important performance, but the tone of his voice and the hard set of his jaw weren’t normal. And it made Wonwoo want to cry. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. He’d already 'dropped the ball,’ as Soonyoung had so kindly pointed out, too many times that day…

But besides that moment, Seventeen sparkled. Their improvised moments of live singing and ad libs were sure to enchant the audience when their episode aired. Everyone felt like this performance was the win they needed after a long, stressful day. 

In the lull of activity after they’d filmed the final song for the third time, and the boys waited to be told what to do next, Jeonghan collapsed onto a bench, sighing over dramatically to release the tension of a performance well done. Joshua sat down next to him, his head collapsing onto Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Hey,” Jeonghan whispered, chuckling softly as he messed with Joshua’s hair. “What’s up?”

“It’s not okay,” Joshua whispered back, voice strained and congested and so desperately tired that Jeonghan felt his own chest constrict. He felt Joshua shiver, and the older boy wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his hand up and down the younger boy’s arm for comfort while simultaneously pulling him closer. Suspicion piqued, Jeonghan rested his fingers against Joshua’s forehead, finding an abnormal heat that had nothing to do with the set lights. 

“Damn, Shuji… why didn’t you say something sooner?” Jeonghan hissed, pulling back and holding Joshua at arm’s length to get a better look at him. Beneath the layers of makeup and flashy outfit, Joshua looked nothing like himself, missing his signature sparkle. Dark shadows were discernible under his eyes, and an unhealthy flush peeked through the foundation on his cheeks. 

“I don’t know. Adrenaline?” Joshua offered weakly, shrugging his shoulders. “Swept up in the moment? Fear of letting you all down?” His voice caught and he coughed, roughly turning away from Jeonghan. The older vocalist’s heart broke. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Jeonghan clicked his tongue in sympathy, eyes darting around the room to find Seungcheol as he felt another shiver course through the younger vocalist’s body. He found the eldest already looking at the two of them with a questioning gaze. Get him home, Jeonghan mouthed back. Seungcheol frowned as he gave a single nod of his head. As the rest of the group moved to sit down, the leader tugged Jihoon’s sleeve and whispered, “We need to get Shua home ASAP. I’ll talk to the director, you talk to management.” The younger man’s eyes flashed briefly to Joshua before he nodded. “Got it.”

“We’re falling apart here,” Jeonghan whispered to Seungcheol as the leader approached the duo. The leader scoffed in agreement. “You’re telling me.” He paused to run a comforting hand through Joshua’s hair, casually checking his temperature. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Didn’t feel this bad,” Joshua replied miserably. 

“I swear, he was fine this morning,” Jeonghan sighed. “Maybe a little off, but nothing out of the ordinary. This hit him like a fucking a train in the last hour or two.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, pushing his fingers through Joshua’s hair one last time before Jihoon appeared at his side. 

“Broadcast team and management have okay-ed the last recordings. Broadcast wants promo videos, and then we can leave. Management suggested small groups, broadcast team said pairs of two,” the producer relayed to the leader before turning his attention to Joshua, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry you feel so shitty. We’re gonna get you home as soon as possible.” Joshua nodded in response, his silence the most glaring tell to how awful he felt. 

“Okay, we’re filming duo promos,” S.Coups announced as he moved to the front of the group. His voice left no room for comment, and all eyes fell on him immediately. “I will pair you up as we go. When you hear your names, get in front of the camera, say the prompted lines, and do it well in as few takes as possible so we can all get home, staff included. As soon as you’re done filming, go change and head out to the cars. Joshua and Vernon, you’re up first. Jeonghan and Dino, you’re on deck.” 

Everyone fell in step quickly, standing next to the person their leader assigned.  

Despite having been separated for so much of the day, Hansol was keenly aware that Joshua was in no state to be in front of a camera, despite smiling so easily that no one on the other side of that screen would be able to tell. So the younger man took it upon himself to lead their camera time, reading off of the cue cards, and leaving the shorter lines for the vocalist. Hansol cracked an unplanned joke in English, smiling to himself as Joshua responded around a genuine laugh, before they both signed off with a wave. As soon as the red light disappeared, Hansol wrapped an arm around Joshua’s waist and bit his lip to keep himself from crying out when his hyung practically melted against him. He hated that their job forced them to work like this.  

[sickonthedancefloor]

HAPPY JUNE 15TH, EVERYONE!!! Here is the official Sicktember 2025 Prompts list!

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Event FAQ: https://www.tumblr.com/sicktember/785439209109454849/sicktember-faqs-for-the-2025-year?source=share

Past Prompts: https://sicktember.tumblr.com/prompts

How to Submit Your Work: https://www.tumblr.com/sicktember/760549128005615616/content-promotion-reminder?source=share

Sicktember 2025 AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Sicktember_2025

Text List of 2025 Sicktember Prompts:

Sicktember Prompts Text Version:

“It’s the middle of the night, why are you up?”

Forced to go to school/work while sick 

“Why are you so sweaty?” 

Pneumonia 

Worst possible timing 

The boy who cried sick

“There’s a frog in my throat,” 

Aches and pains 

“Get your butt back in back!” 

Red eyes 

No known cure 

“You’re adorable when you’re sick,” 

Chronic Illness 

Bedridden 

“This is the worst headache of my life,” 

Misery loves company 

Infection

“We’re going to the hospital,” 

Stomach ache 

Fever Nightmares

“I’ll make you some tea,”/tea 

Sobbing 

Overdoing it 

“I feel like I’m dying,” 

Medicine

Slow Recovery Time

“I’m sick, not stupid!” 

Ghostly Pale

Came back worse/round two 

“You’re too sick to (blank)

Alt Prompts:

Gentle Back/Belly Rub

Warm Bath

“I want my (comfort item),”

Lullaby

“I love you,”

[sickonthedancefloor]

look at his cute little finger heart <3

[sickonthedancefloor]

The member of a group with a weak chest, who shivers in the first autumnal wind, and who never manages to avoid any respiratory bug that's doing the rounds. As soon as the weather turns, they wrap a scarf around their throat, even indoors, and begin to don cable knit sweaters and cardigans. But they can't avoid coming down with a cold for long. And once there's been one cold, there's a second and a third, and they spend more of the winter poorly than not. Not so dreadfully ill that they're confined to bed, but visibly and audibly under the weather on most of the occasions they meet with their friends.

Most of those friends won't raise it - because it's just how things are, they've come to expect it - though there are plenty of silent gestures of sympathy; pressing a cup of tea into icy hands, saving the seat closest to the fire. But there's always the moment when a newer friend inevitably remarks that they're looking peaky again, or comments that it's the fifth time they've sneezed that evening. And then they give a self-depreciating smile and confess that they're "something of an expert at catching cold."

(Very much inspired by this great snippet found by @shamefilledsnzblog)

[sickonthedancefloor]

Famous Last Words (Part 2)

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie/Whumpee (so far): DK, Joshua

Word Count: 2,100

Part 1 | Part 2 (You're Here!) | Part 3

Notes: More set up, woo! I told y'all this one's long...

“AGAIN!” 

The collective groan from the members was muffled by the music starting up once again. As they all rushed back into their stating formation, Soonyoung crossed his arms tightly over his chest, mouth drawn into a thin line. Even after years of working together, no one was fully used to the stark contrast between Hoshi their friend and Hoshi the performance leader. Primarily because the switch from one to the other was quicker than lightning. 

The contrast was starkest when the performance leader took a step back to watch rather than dance with the team. 

“Stronger arms, Wonwoo. They’re arms, not noodles.” 

“One, two, THREE, four. Emphasize the three, not the four.” 

“Left foot, Vernon.”

“Seungkwan, your face looks dead.” 

Hoshi’s voice carried authority, his eyes scanning their every move with terrifying accuracy. He didn’t need to yell, simply raise his voice higher than the music; their ears were trained to his frequency.

“Two spins, THEN down.”

“Junhei, don’t look down during the lift. It ruins the effect.”

“Joshua, you’re supposed to go right. Seungkwan, you’re supposed to follow him. Come on, guys.”

And dance practice the day of a performance was nothing short of excruciating. The nerves and excitement of showing off their music to fans had the tendency to mess them up, tangle their feet and obstruct their sense of direction. It was just nerves; they would be fine on stage. But Hoshi needed them to prove they could do it now.

Finally, mercifully, the track ended. Final poses were held until they were told to release. 

“Water break. Two minutes,” Soonyoung directed, spinning on his heel towards his own bottle. The rest of the group followed suit, quickly and quietly grabbing their water and gulping it down with alarming speed. Two minutes wasn’t nearly enough time. But, the sooner they got the dance right, the sooner they could rest for reals. 

Soonyoung knew he was being extra hard on them today. It was no secret that Soonyoung was a perfectionist, and the dark side of that trait always reared its head before a show. Especially a one-off performance where they didn’t get a second chance to do it right. He would apologize later. And he quieted the guilty voice in the back of his brain with the reassuring thought that his members would understand. They always did, always made up after a high stress situation. 

It also didn’t help that he’d just received the email that he didn’t get the solo project. And it stung worse than he’d anticipated. 

Two minutes later on the dot, almost everyone was back on the floor. Almost. 

“Seungkwan, any day now!” Soonyoung yelled. The younger man flinched slightly, eyes darting up from his phone before he slipped the device back in the pocket of his bag. “Sorry, sorry.” The younger man quickly sidled into the group in the center of the room. 

“Today was supposed to be a cleaning rehearsal, not a re-teach practice,” Soonyoung snapped, eyes darting like lightning between all of the members, but resting for a meaningful extra second on Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan specifically. “We perform at 8pm. Keep up.”

“I’m sorry, that’s on me,” Joshua replied instantly, shaking his head. His disappointment in himself seemed to pull his entire presence down. “I promise I’ll keep up.” 

“Sorry, hyung. I don’t know where my head’s at today, but I’ll do better moving forward,” Wonwoo added. 

Seungkwan didn’t reply. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his eyes trained at the floor. 

Practice began again. This time, they were running their entire performance set through with no breaks. 

Or at least, they thought no breaks. 

Halfway through, the music suddenly cut off. 

In the middle of Junhei’s lift. 

One of the dancer’s lifting Jun partially released his hold on the member’s leg. Jun bobbled in the air before the team snapped back into coordination and put him down. 

“DON’T stop the music during lifts!” Jihoon very quickly checked his tone of voice, but the fire in his eyes remained. “It’s dangerous.” 

“I’m so sorry!” The choreographer’s intern held up their hands. “I panicked. I…” She looked like a deer in headlights as she turned towards Hoshi, who simply nodded reassuringly. 

“That’s my fault. I gave you the wrong signal.” The performance leader turned to address the whole team. “Energy is flagging. Everyone. I get that you’re tired, but until you can prove to me that you can do this nonstop, full out… we’re going to keep running it. Back to the top.”

As the team moved back to their starting spots, the mutters and glares Soonyoung received weren’t unusual, weren’t even unexpected. But he felt a pain twist deep in his chest, felt himself grow separate from his brothers. Sure, this distance was only temporary. He could smooth it over with them tomorrow, or even tonight after they nailed their performance. 

This was all a part of the job. 

Soonyoung kept repeating that to himself until he believed it. 

(He had yet to stop repeating it well into the next day…)

***

Lunch was a much needed breather after the hours of grueling rehearsal. After the sudden stop, the group had managed to make it through two run throughs with Hoshi’s approval. Spirits were somewhat higher when they were released for a break. And some of the members were more than keen to break the tension. 

“Someone tell a story. We need to lighten the mood up in here,” Jeonghan directed as he slumped into his seat. 

“Why can’t you do it, hyung?” Chan challenged as he popped a grape in his mouth. 

Jeonghan shrugged. “I’m not made of comedy, Channie.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Seungcheol muttered just loud enough to be heard. That earned him a carrot to the head, courtesy of his, very mature, vice leader. 

“OH!” Everyone jolted a bit at the sudden shout from Mingyu, (especially Hansol, who was right next to him and, unfortunately, on the side Mingyu was facing when he’d yelled.) Their eyes followed Mingyu as he scrambled to his feet and puttered over to his bag, rummaging inside until he unearthed a blue hoodie. “Minnie, I forgot I brought you this!” 

Seokmin’s eyes lit up and his spine straightened as he made grabby hands towards the rapper. Before Mingyu could give him the jacket, though, the vocalist fluttered to his notebook and scrawled out a rushed: “IS IT STILL WARM?!”

“Um, no?” Mingyu laughed. “It was when I left the dorms this morning, cause I pulled it straight from the dryer, but it’s definitely room temperature right now.” Seokmin sighed dramatically, but still held out a hand for his cherished hoodie, which Mingyu passed over happily.

“Who was doing laundry this morning?” Jihoonie asked, scowling. 

“Mind your business,” Jun replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jihoon pointed his fork at the dancer. “I’m personally very disappointed in you, Moon Junhei. I expect a higher standard.” 

Jun held out his arms in protest. “Jeonghannie started the load, and I just finished it!” 

“TRAITOR!” Jeonghan threw a carrot at Jun that the dancer impressively caught in his mouth, earning a delighted thumbs up from his no-longer-mad hyung.

“Okay, I got a story,” Minghao spoke up, sitting a bit taller in his chair. 

(Soonyoung looks at his phone below the table, checking that he’s understood the words on the screen for at least the eighth time today. They have not changed. He slides his phone back in his pocket, swallowing back a disappointed sigh with a bite of his chicken. Chan, sitting next to Soonyoung, is the only one who notices this.)

Minghao sat forward, leaning one elbow on the table. “So I’m at the little store on the corner, right? And I’m completely disguised, no one’s gonna recognize me…” 

“Clearly not good enough if there’s a story,” Mingyu joked, earning him a dry glare from Minghao that the rapper simply met with a cheesy smile. Minghao slowly pointed a finger at Mingyu, the warning clear even without words. 

(Seungcheol laughs to himself at the silliness of his team as he massages a sore spot on his side. Except it isn’t sore, he realizes; it’s more of an odd, prickly feeling. Something to deal with later. He’s having fun right now.) “Anyway. That detail was for the more publicly minded of us: I’m completely disguised, and NO ONE recognizes me. Because these two guys start fighting. Apparently, the one guy’s girlfriend was cheating on him with the other guy, and…”

The sound of glass clattering on the table interrupted the dancer yet again, followed by a high pitched, “OH SHIT!” from Junhei, who had accidentally knocked over his Gatorade (thankfully with the cap on) right into Jihoon’s currently unused fork, which had flown against Wonwoo’s food container (thus the glass sound). The elder dancer, hands tented over his mouth from shock, and probably fear, slowly turned and looked at the younger man next to him.

(Jeonghan silently observes two things, neither of which is the drama unfolding between Junhei and Minghao. Rather: neither Joshua nor Wonwoo is actually eating. Joshua is taking the tiniest bites of his meal; Wonwoo is moving his around in a way that makes it appear as if he is eating it. Jeonghan notices that Wonwoo’s eyes are distant, checked out from the conversation unfolding at this table. He’s in his head. Jeonghan adds the rapper to his mental list of people to watch today. Joshua is currently number one on that list, though, which is why Jeonghan is worried, not surprised, when he watches his fellow vocalist stifle two completely silent sneezes into his fist, perfectly covert so no one else at the table notices at all.) 

Minghao now pointed the warning finger at Jun, this time with more emphasis. “I swear to God, Wen Junhei.” The older dancer held up his hands in surrender. Minghao pointed at him another three seconds for good measure before continuing, “So the girlfriend was cheating, according to the first guy, who punches the second guy, in the face, right before the ‘girlfriend’ shows up screaming with…”

“hehTCH!” 

“Stop interrupting me!” Everyone burst into laughter as Minghao’s fist hit the table. 

“I’m so sorry,” Joshua laughed, waving away the accusatory finger now pointed in his direction. “It wasn’t intentional, I swear.”

“But this was and is intentional,” Chan said as he stole a grape from Minghao’s plate and popped it in his mouth. Minghao blinked as Chan grinned at him. “You bastard.”

“LANGUAGE!” Minghao met Seungkwan’s comment with what he’d started calling a ‘peace sign with one finger,’ earning a scandalized gasp from the younger member, who fell backwards into Dokyeom, hand on his chest. 

“I’ll say it: we’re funny,” Hansol shrugged. As the rest of the group dissolved into laughter and shouts over each other, Jeonghan gently squeezed Joshua’s bicep, demanding the younger man’s attention.

“You sure you’re good?” Jeonghan whispered, staring at Joshua so intently and with such concern that he nearly looked away out of guilt. 

“I’m okay,” he replied, followed by a sniffle that likely undermined his point. It wasn’t technically a lie. He was okay. He had to be.  Jeonghan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes never leaving Joshua’s, as if he could read something there. The younger vocalist rolled his eyes. “It’s just a cold, Hannie.”

“Tell me the minute it’s not okay, yeah?”

Joshua’s soft smile could’ve ended him right then and there. “Of course.” The moment was over, it had to be if they didn’t want to risk drawing unwanted attention.

(Jihoon notices Soonyoung’s uncharacteristic silence. The dance leader would normally be the one egging on more jokes. Today, he’s silently shoveling food into his mouth, as if he wants to be anywhere but here. Actually, Jihoon recognizes the same downcast energy in Seungkwan. Both of them had been much quieter than usual today. Of course, Jihoon is also the only one who knows that company had rejected both of their solo project proposals, so he figured that was the cause of this sudden gloom. Still. He noticed that Seungkwan had broken into the tomfoolery while Soonyoung had not. Jihoon made a note to keep tabs on that.)

“Wait, Minghao, how did your story end?” Mingyu asked over the commotion. 

“Oh. So the girlfriend shows up with her identical twin sister. Turns out they weren’t dating the same girl at all.”

The table went eerily silent. 

“I’ll say it: it wasn’t funny,” Hansol remarked, earning him a sharp push from Minghao that got everyone laughing again. 

[sickonthedancefloor]

Feveruary day 17: 'I know you want to help but you're only making things worse'

Sickie: Seokjin | Caretaker: Yoongi

Words: 1,035

A/n: This one's written for @borahaehae, who's been so kind and supportive and a total sweetheart. 💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seokjin slumps down with his back against the kitchen wall, panting harshly, fighting the urge to lean over and throw up where he's sitting. The spatula he's holding drips oil onto the floor - not that he can bring himself to care at the moment.

Someone squats down beside him - he glances up, making out Yoongi's features through his wavering vision.

“You give up yet?” The rapper asks.

Seokjin meets his gaze with a glare. “I'm fine.”

Yoongi sighs. “Honestly, hyung, we can handle this. Hoseok’s not too terrible in the kitchen, and Tae and Jimin will help me keep Joonie and Jungkook distracted until we're done.”

“But it's for their birthdays,” Seokjin whines, burying his face in his hands and nearly poking his eye out with the spatula at the same time. “What kind of hyung am I if I don't even cook for them on their birthday?”

“A pretty normal one, actually. My brother has never cooked for me on my birthday.” Yoongi snorts. At Seokjin's despairing gaze, he sighs. “I know you want to help, but you're only making things worse, hyung.”

“Not true, I think the cooking has been going swimmingly so far.” Seokjin retorts.

Yoongi gives him a flat, unimpressed look. “I meant for yourself. You're whiter than a sheet and I'm amazed that you haven't passed out yet. How are you feeling now?”

“Fine.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.” Seokjin grits out. Nausea churns in his stomach and he feels himself break into a cold sweat at the thought of having to move. Stubbornly, he struggles to brace his arms under him to get up, but they buckle instantly under his weight and he crashes back to the floor with a pained whimper. “No,” he amends grudgingly.

Yoongi huffs a soft, amused laugh. “Come on.” The spatula is taken from Seokjin's hand and tossed with a clatter onto the kitchen island. Seokjin feels his arm being tugged around Yoongi's neck and an arm wrapped protectively around his waist before he's slowly lifted up.

He feels like a newborn foal with how he struggles to get his legs steady under him. His head lolls forward without him controlling it; saliva pools in his mouth when the change in position causes nausea to rise again. He closes his eyes against the dizziness that suddenly slams into him.

“Someone's way overdue for a nap.” He hears Yoongi joke, and he huffs a weak laugh in response. He keeps his eyes closed as they trudge along, leaning more of his weight against Yoongi than he'd like to admit.

“Hey, hyung. Don't pass out on me before we get to your room, I won't be able to carry you. Stay conscious for me, will ya?”

“I’ll try my best, dear precious Yoongi of mine.” Seokjin grunts in return.

Even so, his body feels heavier with every step, and exhaustion clings tight to his heels, making it harder and harder to keep moving. Cold sweat runs down his hairline when he stutters out, “Wait… Yoongi-ah, hold on.”

The rapper stops all movement immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you dizzy? About to pass out? Or do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

“...Do you smell something burning?”

Yoongi freezes, for a completely different reason this time. “Fuck, the galbi."

Seokjin immediately tries to push himself upright. “Hyung will-”

“Not a chance.” Yoongi tightens his grip around him with a glare, before turning his head to yell down the corridor. “Seok!”

The sound of loud footsteps come running before Hoseok himself slides into view. “Hyung?” He says, addressing Yoongi, before he spots Seokjin slumped against him and his eyes widen. “Oh no, hyung…?”

“Jin hyung isn’t feeling very well right now.” Yoongi confirms. Hoseok’s lips pull down into a sad pout. “I’m bringing him back to his room to rest. Can you take care of the galbi for me? It might be a little burnt at the bottom, just scrape off the burnt bits and the rest should be good to go.”

Hoseok pales a little at that, but nods bravely. “You got it, hyung,” he says, dashing off to the kitchen.

Seokjin watches him go, amused despite himself. “You sure he'll be alright?” He asks the rapper beside him. “We should…”

“Hoseok can handle it.” Yoongi answers firmly. “The only real thing we're in danger of is probably him plating the galbi on that squirrel dish he stole from the Run BTS set.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, as they continue their slow trek to his bedroom. “You're right. Hoseok's gotten pretty decent in the kitchen. …I should have more faith in my dongsaengs, shouldn't I?”

Yoongi only answers him after they reach his room and guides Seokjin into bed, handing him a glass of water and the blister pack of fever reducers he kept on his bedside table to take. “You really should, hyung. We've learned from the best, haven't we?”

Seokjin puffs his chest out with pride, laughing at Yoongi's words. “Yah, Yoongi-ah, you really know how to make a guy feel good about himself. But don't learn too well, otherwise I'd be out of a job as eldest hyung.” He means it jokingly, but the way Yoongi turns to look at him tells him that he hadn't missed the undercurrent of uncertainty in his words.

“You'll always be our best eldest hyung.” Yoongi says softly, leaning forwards to place a kiss on Seokjin's forehead. Then, he pulls back with a threatening “But if you tell anyone what I just said, they'll never find your body.”

That has Seokjin smiling, which becomes a grin when he notices how red Yoongi's ears are. “Deal. Although I bet you'd dig me up before my body's cold in the ground. You loooove me.”

Yoongi snorts and shoves him lightly, an obvious attempt to distract Seokjin from the blush on his face. “Rest, hyung. You still feel really warm. I'll come get you when we're finished cooking.”

As Yoongi turns to leave, Seokjin calls out to him again. “Yoongi-ah! You'll come get me if anything happens, right?”

He recoils a little when he's met with Yoongi's fierce glare.

“...Absolutely not?” Seokjin guesses, wincing.

“Absolutely not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Check out my feveruary masterlist in my pinned post!~

[sickonthedancefloor]

that thing whumpees do sometimes where they lean against a wall by their forearm with their head down and sort of half say half pant something like "i'll be okay just gimme a minute"

caretaker telling them no, they can't rest, they have to keep moving!! whumpee slipping in and out of consciousness! caretaker not even knowing whumpee is hurt until they see the blood streaking the wall!!

[sickonthedancefloor]

Famous Last Words (Part 1)

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie/Whumpee (so far): DK, Joshua

Word Count: 2,082

Notes: Welcome to the 'what can go wrong, will go wrong' fic! She's not fully finished, but enough is done that I feel confident starting it off. New parts will drop on Thursdays until the fic is finished. The first few parts will mainly be setting up the coming chaos, so I promise there'll be more happening later on. Let me know about the length of the parts - I can make them longer/shorter as necessary. Happy reading!

The sun had just peeked over the horizon when Hansol’s alarm went off. The young man sighed. He loved his job, he absolutely did. But he hated waking up before his body was ready. 

It didn’t help that something felt… off today. There was a negative aura hanging in the air that Hansol couldn’t fully understand or ignore. His gut was telling him that something wicked was on its way. He rolled onto his side, hoping it was just the dregs of a weird dream he couldn’t fully remember. 

Hansol brushed aside the weird feeling he’d had upon waking as he stumbled out of bed and through his morning routine. He’d almost entirely forgotten about it by the time he walked into the kitchen for breakfast, finding a good majority of the hip hop and performance teams present (the vocal unit had been called early to record some demo tracks). 

“Morning, Nonie!” Soonyoung greeted brightly, waving from the other end of the table. Several others turned and acknowledged him too. Hansol simply just waved, not quite awake enough for speech yet. 

“We got pancakes or cereal,” Minghao explained when Hansol joined him in the kitchen, resting his head on the dancer’s shoulder.

“Who made the pancakes?” Hansol asked. 

“Junhei.” Minghao scratched Hansol’s hair a few times before gently pulling away to take his plate to the table and let the rapper get his own food. 

Hansol met Jun’s gaze across the counter. “Thanks, hyung.” Jun, mouth full, simply offered a thumbs up in response. 

“Today’s a great day!” Mingyu sighed, the brightness of his smile rivaling the sun itself. “The sun is out. Junnie made pancakes. We get to perform tonight.”

Soonyoung glanced at him over his coffee cup. “Hopefully.”

“Come on, hyung.” Mingyu socked him playfully on the shoulder, his fingers taking hold and shaking Hoshi encouragingly until the dance captain had to laugh along with him. 

“Stop, stop! I give!” Soonyoung laughed, desperately trying to pull away. “I’m just… a little nervous is all.” 

“About the solo project?” Chan asked before shoving a large spoonful of cereal in his mouth. His eyes, though, were watching Hoshi carefully as the dance leader nodded. 

Hansol set his place on the table. “I didn’t know you tried for the solo, hyung.”

Soonyoung shrugged. “I didn’t really say much about it. Didn’t want to jinx anything, ya know?”

“Fair enough.” Hansol nodded. 

“Well, that’s a fair reason to be feeling butterflies, hyung,” Mingyu conceded. “But other than that? What could go wrong?”

“Famous last words, Mingyu-ah,” Seungcheol warned from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a devious glint in his eyes. 

Mingyu, in turn, rolled his own eyes skyward. “Oh cut it out, hyung. Today is going to be amazing. Just you wait.” 

***

Seungkwan felt optimistic as he took one final deep breath of the fresh morning air before sweeping open the door to the company building. The vocal unit was meeting early to record some demo tracks for Jihoon’s upcoming album proposal, and Seungkwan was the last to arrive; he’d been granted a 30 minute delayed start after a variety show taping ran late the previous night. And those extra minutes of sleep had been crucial - Seungkwan had gotten to wake up with the sun instead of before it, which had put an instant smile on his face. 

Tapping his foot excitedly as he rode upwards in the elevator, Seungkwan felt the butterflies in his stomach begin to act up. Not only was Seventeen taping a performance tonight, but today was the day when the company would announce who got the next solo project. Seungkwan had finally built up the confidence to throw his hat in the ring; he’d worked tireless to prepare a proposal he was truly proud of, having done much of the work himself (with Woozi’s expert guidance, of course, but in the form of lessons and second listens rather than the producer doing all the work with Seungkwan’s help). He had an incredibly good feeling about this one, but doubt still lingered. The nerves were eating him alive. Seungkwan couldn’t wait to be with his members to have something to distract him. 

Sure enough, his vocal unit hyungs gave Seungkwan quite the distraction as soon as he stepped foot in the recording room. He entered just in time to hear Seokmin of all people screech out a raspy, dissonant noise that vaguely resembled singing. 

“Wow, you sound rough,” Jihoon blurted out from his place at the workstation. 

In the recording booth, Seokmin’s lower lip jutted out. A hand flew to his throat, which had just produced perhaps the last sound he’d been expecting: that raspy, strained, horribly off key attempt at a very-much-in-his-range scale. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he croaked, panic evident in his eyes despite the pout on his lips. “It wasn’t like this when I woke up…”

“Are you sure?” Joshua asked, brow furrowing in concern. He was leaning on the counter in the back of the recording room, Jeonghan next to him in the same position, and it was clear that both of them had switched into ‘older brother’ mode. Seungkwan also noted that Joshua’s voice sounded a bit hoarse as well, and the older man was wearing a mask. But Jihoon also had a mask under his chin so maybe Joshua just having a ‘don’t perceive me’ kind of day and Seungkwan was reading into things…

“Okay, maybe it was. I don’t know. My alarm didn’t go off, so I was kind of scrambling and didn’t really… talk I guess,” Seokmin explained. It was getting harder to hear him, his voice disappearing by the second. His eyes kept moving around between his members, searching for answers; it didn’t help to see varying levels of worry. Jihoon motioned for him to exit the booth, and Seokmin hurried to comply. 

“Does your throat hurt?” Seungkwan asked as Seokmin entered the circle of his four waiting brothers. 

“My throat barely hurts,” Seokmin replied, exasperated. “Nothing more than…” He paused, touching his neck warily. “Yeah, no. It doesn’t hurt. I just…” he shrugged, “can’t talk.” “Do you feel okay otherwise?” Jeonghan asked, reaching for the other vocalist’s throat, examining it himself. Seokmin nodded, uninhibited by Jeonghan’s tender fingers. “Your lymph nodes don’t feel swollen.”

“It’s probably all the yelling you did on broadcast this weekend,” Joshua added, eyes wrinkling with a soft smile. “Overuse, yeah?” 

Seokmin’s eyes widened as he nodded. “That makes sense!”

“Okay, then stop talking,” Jihoon instructed, thrusting a notebook into Seokmin’s hands. “The sooner you shut up, the sooner you can sing. And I am saying that as your friend who knows you literally live to sing, not your producer who needs you to. We have plenty of time to get this track done, so do not rush this, okay?” Seokmin nodded dutifully. “Remember: the sooner you stop talking, the sooner you can sing again.”

“And go back to being so loud we beg you to shut up!” Jeonghan added with a gentle slap on Seokmin’s back. The younger man nodded dutifully, and mimed zipping his lips shut. 

“Sit with me on the sound board. You can help us with tone quality.” Seokmin smiled warmly as he happily slid into the rolling chair next to Jihoon’s. “Shua-hyung, be honest with me, is your voice going to cooperate today?” Joshua nodded. “Okay, then get in there.”

As Joshua entered the recording booth and got set up, Seungkwan wrapped his arms around Seokmin from behind, kissing his hair softly before resting his chin atop his friend’s head. Seokmin melted in his arms. “What’s up with Shua?”

“He says he’s ‘fighting a cold,’” Jeonghan said with a roll of his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Which means he’s sick and in denial about it.” Seungkwan nodded in understanding, endeared by his hyung’s petulance at the situation. 

“Ready when you are.” Joshua smiled from the booth. 

Jihoon nodded as he toggled a few buttons, then flipped to the desired page on his laptop. “Can you go to Track 4, page 2? I want to hear how you sound on the pre-chorus first. It starts at measure 24.”

“Got it.” Joshua gave a thumbs up when he was ready. Jihoon nodded and started the guide track. Joshua sang the line, clear and bright. Jihoon asked for it again. Then a third time, each time completely pausing to listen to Joshua’s voice before adjusting settings and typing quick notes into his computer. 

“Can you try the chorus?”

“Yes.” 

The same process repeated. Jihoon gave a few notes, Joshua applied them. Jihoon’s eyes and fingers were kept busy as the producer nodded to himself. 

“Okay, come on out.” 

Joshua nodded, carefully removing the recording equipment and rejoining them in the main room.

Jihoon waited for Joshua to appear at the booth door before eyeing him with concern. “You are sounding a little strained, but it’s nothing we can’t work with. I think those parts will still work well for you, and what we got will work for demos.” Seokmin, unable to sit still anymore, jumped up and wrapped himself around Joshua. The elder patted his head.

“Awesome,” Joshua sighed. Before the words had left his mouth, Seungkwan had thrust a water bottle at his chest and pulled Seokmin, none too gently, off of him. (Seokmin whined audibly, and Seungkwan pointed at him accusatorially as the older man slapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide with panic at breaking vocal rest.)

“Drink all of that, and then more,” Seungkwan instructed. 

Joshua chuckled. “I’m already drinking plenty of water, and taking extra vitamins.” Seungkwan’s glare did not let up until Joshua cracked open the water bottle and gave him a quick salute and an, “Affirmative, sir,” before taking a generous sip. He shook his head as he replaced the cap. “But you’re overreacting.” 

“Not a chance. A certain someone said the ‘WCGW’ words today, and we are not chancing anything,” Jeonghan replied. Seokmin tapped his notebook, eyebrows furrowing. “WCGW?” Jeonghan motioned for the notebook and, upon receiving it, scribbled the words ‘what could go wrong?’ 

Jihoon hummed. “Was it Mingyu?”

“You know it always is.” Jihoon muttered something as he turned back to the soundboard, probably a scathing insult towards the rapper. “How could you possibly know that, Hannie?”

“Coups texted me.” Jeonghan took the opportunity to press his hand against Joshua’s exposed cheek. “Are you absolutely sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yes, Hannie. I feel alright. We just haven’t brushed off the morning cobwebs yet.” The worried glances didn’t stop. Joshua rolled his eyes. “It’s just a little cold…”

Jeonghan wasn’t convinced. “You’re absolutely sure?” There was something about the way that Joshua’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, eyes that weren’t sparkling as much as usual, that were just a little bit more shadowed today… Jeonghan tried to press the back of his hand to Joshua’s cheek again, but was quickly swatted away with a laugh.

“Please just take extra care with yourself today, hyung,” Seungkwan spoke up. “Even if it’s nothing much now, we don’t want to see you suffer later, yeah?”

Joshua nodded with as reassuring a smile as possible as he pulled his mask back up. “Of course, love. I won’t let you all down.”

Jihoon nodded in approval before he noticed his watch. “Ah shit, we gotta go. Group practice. Kwannie, we’ll get you in here later today, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Seungkwan replied with a thumbs up, moving to gather his belongings along with the rest of them. 

As they all prepared to leave the studio, Seungkwan froze, looking at his phone. Specifically an email from another producer in the company. He clicked the message, eyes rapidly scanning its contents. His heart sank. 

Seungkwan hardly realized he’d been left behind when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Shaking himself back to the present, Seungkwan found Seokmin eyeing him with concern. He tapped his notebook: Everything okay?

Seungkwan nodded with a half smile. “I didn’t get the solo project.” Seokmin pouted in sympathy, then wrapped the younger man in a hug, squeezing extra tight. Seungkwan squeezed back. “Thanks, hyung.” Another squeeze from Seokmin before he disentangled himself from the hug, cupped Seungkwan’s cheeks affectionately so he could plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, and left the room. 

Despite the disappointment settling in his chest, Seungkwan smiled at the warmth of his best friend’s love. 

Part 2 Coming Next Thursday

[sickonthedancefloor]

Seokjin, chills, ocean! 🥶🥶🥶🥶

seokjin | chills | ocean

word count: 244

💦 Water Tiny Drabbles 💦

a/n: lol why is this so dramatic

In the very early hours of the morning, when the sky is still dark and the house is still quiet, Seokjin awakes from something that must be a nightmare; his heart is pounding, his body is sweating, and there are vivid images that flash through his mind until he blinks and blinks and they fade away.  

He’s in a weird state, torn between wanting to return to the coziness of sleep and an inexplicable urge to be awake. It’s not until he rolls over that he becomes aware of how warm he is– no, he’s not warm, he’s hot. Like the heat is on too high. Like he’s next to a fire. Like the sun is beating down on his bare, oversensitive skin. 

The chills hit him out of nowhere, washing over him like a relentless barrage of waves– crashing against him, until he’s swaying despite the fact that he’s lying down, swaying with every oscillation between too hot and too cold.

And it’s unbearable.

But then, there’s someone beside him. Someone warm. The warmth feels like a welcome hug, soothing the chill but not adding to the uncomfortable heat that seems to be coursing through his veins. 

“Your fever came back,” Yoongi whispers against his temple. 

For a moment, Seokjin wants to cry, but then Yoongi’s arm snakes around his waist and he no longer feels like he’s drowning in an ocean, and instead feels like he’s floating on top of the water.

[sickonthedancefloor]

Poet | Artist is about to take over my brain. The shawol obsession is back. There's no saving me.

[sickonthedancefloor]

Here is a (VERY) old WIP finally done!! It turned out kinda long and wasn't sure about the title lol but I hope ya'll enjoy it! Have a great weekend!!

Slow burning

Sickie: Hoseok

Caretakers: OT7

TW: emeto

Hoseok considers himself pretty resilient. He can endure a lot and pushes his body for hours doing choreo. Even if he gets sick or hurt, he bounces back fast and gets through the most grueling of schedules. But he's been having stomach problems for awhile now. A weird random pain that comes and goes. He also may have thrown up a few times; no big deal. Hoseok tries to keep that to himself.

Sometimes his stomach wakes him up at night. One minute he's alseep, next he's up cringing and silently cursing; then he's off to the bathroom. Hoseok pukes in the toilet, trying not to make retching sounds. "Ughh" he moans quietly. It's especially bad at night. He muffles another gag spurting out. Hoseok looks at the door, paranoid of waking someone. Luckily he's able to finish and sneak back to bed. But he doesn't feel any better.

****

Hoseok also has trouble at mealtimes. Sometimes food breifly helps, or it can just straight up hurt to eat. Hoseok is taking his time with this jajangmyeon. "Is something wrong, Hobi?" Seokjin asks.

"Oh, I'm okay hyung" Hoseok shoves more noodles in his mouth. It tastes good, but he swallows uneasily. His appetite fades and he already feels full. Hoseok looks down frowning. He worries he'll get sick again and can't finish it. Seokjin shakes his head.

An hour later:

Hoseok goes on with this gnawing pain inside. He believes it's indigestion. "Yeah, that's all it is.." His stomach churns and releases gastric juices, coating everything. But then it starts to burn and make him nauseous.

Where is this coming from???

Hoseok has no idea. He hates using the work bathroom to be sick but has no choice. He burps into his hand and tastes bitter reflux; the burning intensifies. "Ughh, fuck.." His stomach roils and he belches losing his dinner. It feels gross coming up half digested, not to mention the smell. Hoseok sighs dreadfully holding his middle. He bends further and throws up more mangled noodles. This is awful.

Maybe he should see a doctor.. But Hoseok shakes that thought. He's too busy and that would attract worry from the others. Hoseok just chalked it up to stress, sometimes it affects his stomach and digestion.

****

"One, two, three.. ahh!"

Hoseok's trying to dance but stops in his tracks. His stomach is flaring up again, causing a great discomfort. He gets anxious and holds his breath, keeping a poker face. He stays like that until it's over. The members watch confused and he feels their stares.

"...Just a cramp, that's all" Hoseok says through clenched teeth. He slowly exhales and reaches for the antacids in his pocket. He's been taking those with him for awhile now. They bring some relief and he's able to move again.

"Hyung, what was that? Are you okay??" Jungkook asks.

"I don't know, I've just been having these.. 'stomachaches' for awhile now."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows "how long have you had this?"

"Just a few days" Hoseok doesn't feel like talking about it.

"How bad is it? Are you gonna throw up?"

"It's not that bad Kook, I'll be fine" Hoseok says tentatively. "Okay, let's start again. Sorry about that"

After that convo, the guys keep an eye on him. Hoseok felt the vibes but kept his composure. Even though his stomach forced him to take more breaks. He didn't want to push it and ended practice early.

"Ok, that really isn't like Hobi" Namjoon said afterward. "Is he getting sick?"

"Not sure, but he barely ate at breakfast" Yoongi notes. "He should get that checked out." But they all know that's easier said than done with Hoseok.

Hoseok overhears them talking about him. But he just pretends that didn't happen. Afterall, this will get better on its own...

****

Hoseok doesn't know what to do. It's been 3 days and he's gotten worse. He always has to drop what he's doing to throw up somewhere. He's taking more and more antacids, but they're not as effective. And now his members are onto him.

Hoseok's locked away in his studio, trying to be productive. He was writing something down when his stomach grumbled "Ugh, ow!" Hoseok flinches dropping his pencil. He assumed it was from hunger as he didn't have lunch. Hoseok tries to get up but that hurt even more. "Ahh shit!" He falls back seething in pain.

Hoseok groans miserably closing his eyes. He sinks down with hands resting on his tummy. He rubs it to soothe the pain, but that doesn't work. Instead he grabbed the trash bin, hurling into it. His stomach contracts and a thick wave splashes out. Hoseok coughs wetly, his eyes tearing up. He lurches forward with hair in his face.

That gnawing pain drills into his stomach and he lets out a yelp, followed by a more productive heave. Hoseok can't stand this. He upchucks again and feels so gross. His mouth tastes like bile and he's left panting.

Hoseok looks at the dirty bin and the unfinished work scattered on the table. He sighs heavily. He's tired of his stomach running his schedule. As much as he wants to go home, Hoseok forced himself to stay and ignores the slow burning that lingers.

****

6PM:

Hoseok was in his studio all afternoon. He's been putting off seeing the others and nervous about dinner. Hoseok wants to eat but isn't sure he can trust his stomach. He's hungry and feels slightly faint from not eating for hours.

His stomach growls acutely "ughh" Hoseok groans. He knows it's not helpful leaving it empty. He hopes dinner will be something easy.

"Hyung, is your tummy still bothering you?" Jungkook asks.

Hoseok is put on the spot. "Oh, I'm..still a bit sick yeah"

"Hm, have you seen a doctor?"

Hoseok knew someone would ask that. "I mean, it's getting better I think.." *His stomach growls louder* He half winces, holding it.

"Awh, you're probably just hungry. You'll feel better with some food" Jungkook reassures. Hoseok wants to believe that. He takes the last of his antacids and hopes for the best.

At the dinner table they're having bulgogi, Hobi's favorite dish. It smells good but can he keep it down? Hoseok eats slow and cautious with a hand over his middle. But still tries listening to the convo going around.

"What do you guys think? Did I use enough spices?" Seokjin asked. Everyone nods and agrees that it's delicious.

"Hobi hyung, I haven't seen you all day. How are you feeling?" Jimin brings up.

"...I'm fine" Hoseok mumbles "just been busy." He keeps it vague but feels like they're lowkey pressing him. They all noticed the change in his behavior.

Hoseok's trying to hide the torment he's going through. He's barely half done and wants to give up. But knows Jin took forever getting the meat just right. He tries smaller pieces and takes his time chewing it. His stomach gurgles in complaint when receiving the new food. Hoseok pauses, a microexpression of pain flickered across his face.

"Hyung, are you ok?" Taehyung worries

Hoseok holds back a whine, pressing his lips together. He sqirms in his chair tensely. The spicy meat sitting in his stomach incurs painful nausea.

"Hoba, what's wrong? Aren't you hungry?" Yoongi asks

Hoseok sets down his chopsticks and pushes his bowl. "I can't eat any more"

"Do you have a stomachache? Cramps?"

"Urghh, no, it.. burns" Hoseok grunts.

Yoongi's eyes widen at that."Burns??"

Hoseok pushes his chair back and leans forward, arms crossed over his abdomen. His breathing slowed down and strained. A jolt of searing pain extends through his system. He wails out, unable to hide it.

The members watch Hoseok get up and run to the sink. He hunches over and then projectile vomits, making them all gasp. His dinner pouring out, one horrid retch after another. Hoseok moans in anguish as his stomach twists and the acidity worsens. "Ughh, fuck!.." His arms tremble as he tries to stay balanced.

The others rush over to help. "Oh gosh, hyung, you're really sick!" Jungkook frets.

Hoseok coughs and his stomach contracts forcefully, shooting out more. He recoils and gasps for breath, his whole body shaking.

"Hyung, do you need to go to the hospital??"

Hoseok shakes his head but gives one more scratchy retch. Then starts to feel dizzy and sinks to the floor. He curls up in a ball, clutching his stomach desperately. "Owwww!!" He shrieks with teary eyes. The pain is unbearable and his insides feel like they're on fire. Hoseok gets ringing in his ears and his head spinning. Before he knows it, he passes out.

****

Hoseok doesn't know how, but he finds himself at the hospital. He slowly shifts in bed, putting a hand on his stomach. It still hurts a little and he moans tiredly. Now he wishes he saw a doctor.

"Hey there" Seokjin murmurs "how you feeling?" Hoseok's face says it all. The older rubs his arm gently. "You gave us quite a scare yesterday" The members all nod. "We're just glad you're ok"

When the doctor came, he explained that Hobi has an ulcer from H pylori infection, but he's going to be just fine.

His doctor prescribes him antibiotics and medication to reduce his stomach acid while he heals. And of course, get plenty of rest. His members stay close by, and that makes it that much better.

[sickonthedancefloor]

Sick Day

Title: Sick Day

Word Count: 4,166

Sickie: Jimin (cold/fever)

Caretaker: Yoongi (romantic), Taehyung & Jungkook (platonic) 

Feveruary Prompts: (Day 9) Face Masks, (Day 12) Role Reversal – Medic to Sickie, (Day 24) “Don’t you think you should stay home today?”, (Day 26) “You sure I’m sick? Because I feel fine.”, (Alt 1) Forced to work

A/N: Please ignore all the typos and any continuity errors, I initially wrote this in smaller sections for all of the prompts and then pieced it together to make one story so it might be a bit disjointed.

On Monday morning, Jimin wakes up with a tickle in his throat. 

It’s not even on his radar at first, but after he chugs 20 oz. of water and takes a hot shower and starts in on his first cup of coffee, he can feel it every time he swallows. It’s a scratchy, annoying little thing– but it’s a thing. A thing that he is going to have to address at some point. 

That point is not yet, though. 

Especially not when he glances at the clock and realizes that he’s somehow running late already. He must have gotten lost in the lights again while he was in the shower. 

Jimin hurries to finish getting ready, brushing his teeth and trying to remember if there’s anything left in the fridge he can throw together for a quick breakfast. As he’s standing in front of his dresser pulling on his scrubs, he’s aware of the tickle in his throat again, and he clears his throat in an attempt to get rid of it.

His boyfriend Yoongi, who until now had been sleeping soundly, stirs awake immediately at the sound.

“Jimin?” He mumbles sleepily, emerging from beneath the comforter with a yawn. 

“Hey,” Jimin whispers. “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.”

“Time is it?” Yoongi asks, reaching for his phone. 

“Almost time for me to leave for work,” Jimin replies, striding over to the bed so he can lean down and give Yoongi a kiss. “Good morning, by the way. Did you sleep well?”

“Morning. Yeah, I slept really well.” 

Yoongi smiles up at him, his eyes puffy with sleep and his hair a mess, still looking cuter than Jimin has ever seen anyone look first thing in the morning. For a moment, he forgets everything negative– the weird feeling in his throat, the fact that he himself hadn’t slept well at all, how late he’s running already– and leans down to press a fond kiss to Yoongi’s forehead, wishing he could crawl into bed with him and stay there for the rest of the day.

When he straightens up, Yoongi squints at his phone. “You gonna walk?”

Jimin knows that his question means there isn’t time to walk, so he sighs and goes back to his dresser to grab a face mask. “No, I’ll take the bus.” 

“It’s really cold outside,” Yoongi says. “Probably better not to walk anyway.”

“How cold?”

Yoongi turns his phone around so Jimin can see the screen. “Very cold. It might snow tomorrow, apparently.”  

“Ughhh,” Jimin groans, checking his own phone. Fuck, he’s really going to be late if he doesn’t leave right now. He’ll have to grab something to eat at work. 

“I have to get going,” he tells Yoongi, leaning down for one final kiss– this time, right on the tip of Yoongi’s nose. “Try not to miss me too much when you’re all warm and cozy in bed without me.” 

With a big pout and a little wave, Jimin hurries out of the room, rushing to the front door and slipping his shoes on while he shoulders his backpack and puts his face mask on. Luckily for him, the bus stop is right across the street, but he shudders violently the second he steps outside and is hit with a blast of icy cold air, and doesn’t stop shivering the entire seventeen minutes he’s waiting for the bus, which ends up being late to arrive.  

It’s so cold that Jimin continues to shiver through the commute despite the heat blasting from the floor heaters on the bus. When he arrives at the hospital, he jogs inside, checking his watch and sighing in relief when he sees that he’s just in time to clock in.

“You’re late,” Taehyung greets him cheerfully, holding out a paper to-go cup of coffee as he rushes into the staff room.

The tip of Jimin’s nose stings from the cold. He blows out a heavy breath behind his mask, hoping to warm it up a little.

“My bus was late,” he grumbles. “And I’m still on time, according to the clock.”  

His nose is now running from the cold air, and he sniffles wetly, pausing for a moment to assess if he’s going to need a tissue. He gives one more forceful sniff, hoping that his nose isn’t too pink. He takes the coffee from Taehyung and shoves his backpack into his locker, then unhooks his mask from one ear so he can take a nice long gulp of coffee. 

“Oh fuckin’ yes, thank you. I needed this.”

“You can thank Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Jimin raises an eyebrow in question– and as if summoned, Jungkook pops up right behind Taehyung, peering over his shoulder at Jimin with wide, sparkling eyes. 

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook? This fine young man right behind me? Our shadow for the past– what has it been, Jungkookie, four weeks now?”

Jungkook nods, his shoulders hunching forward like he’s embarrassed about it. Or maybe pleased. Jimin is still trying to figure the kid out. 

Taehyung isn’t even looking at Jungkook to see him nod, though. His eyes are still trained on Jimin as he finishes the next third of his coffee. 

“What’s up with you?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Nothing is up with me. Jungkook, thank you very much for the coffee. You are a literal angel. A lifesaver.” 

Jungkook nods again. His cheeks turn bright pink and Jimin can’t help but smile. 

“Seriously, thank you.” Jimin finishes his coffee, chucks the empty cup in the trash, and puts his mask back on. “Okay, work isn’t going to do itself. Let’s go!”

“Ohhh,” Taehyung says, long and drawn out. “You’re sick.”

“What? No I’m not,” Jimin scoffs, his face flushing under his mask.

Taehyung looks at Jungkook. “He sounds kind of stuffed up, right?”

“Don’t answer that, Jungkook,” Jimin snaps when Jungkook opens his mouth to reply. “I am fine.”

Jungkook blinks, looking back and forth between them with wide eyes and a panicked look on his face, but soon enough Jimin is ushering him and Taehyung both onto the floor.  

For the remainder of his shift, Jimin is mostly able to forget about his sore throat– or, he would be able to, if not for Taehyung bringing up the fact that he “sounds sick” every chance he gets. 

He’s not sure if it’s Taehyung’s nagging or his throat, but by the time he’s on the bus heading back home, Jimin feels exhausted and grumpy, and when he goes to bed that night, the tickle in his throat has morphed into something worse– a stuffy nose, a headache, and a sore throat. 

Jimin crawls into bed early, and feigns sleep when Yoongi comes into the room to check on him. Yoongi touches his hair gently, carding his fingers through the strands and brushing it back from his forehead, and Jimin easily drifts off for real to the soothing touch.

*

On Tuesday, Jimin finds himself being interrogated again before they even get on the floor. 

“Taehyung, I don’t know how many more times I have to say it. I. Am. Not. Sick.”

“Keep an ear out for him sneezing,” Taehyung stage whispers to Jungkook, who looks like he’s actually about to start taking notes. “He’s quiet about it, but he gets really sneezy when he has a cold.” 

“You’re so weird,” Jimin mutters, feeling cranky because Taehyung is actually right, and he doesn’t need Jungkook to know these kinds of things about him. 

Taehyung takes a step closer to Jungkook. “It’s like he didn’t go to med school and learn that you’re not supposed to hold in your sneezes like he does, you know? Also, you know what they say, Jungkookie– never trust a man who sneezes silently.”

“Nobody says that, Tae,” Jimin huffs. “There’s nothing wrong with being polite and containing my germs when I sneeze!”

“Ah-ha! So you admit it! You have germs!”

Several hours later, just when Jimin thinks he’s off the hook and Taehyung has let it go, he feels a sneeze creeping up on him right as he’s sitting down at the computer to update a patient’s chart. He’s wearing short sleeves, and he doesn’t have time to reach for a tissue, so he quickly cups his hand over his mouth and nose, spins around, and muffles four sneezes in a row into his palm.

When he turns back around to finally grab a tissue with his free hand, Jungkook is standing right there, staring down at him with his mouth wide open.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word, but he watches intently as Jimin plucks out a tissue and hurries over to the sink. Jimin wipes his nose as discreetly as possible, then scrubs his hands at the sink thoroughly before drying off and grabbing a mask.

“Bless you,” Jungkook says softly when Jimin sits back down in his chair. 

Jimin sighs. “Thank you, Jungkookie. I’m fine, you don’t have to look at me like that.” 

“I thought Taehyung-hyung was kidding when he said you…” Jungkook trails off, his cheeks reddening when Jimin narrows his eyes. 

They’re interrupted a moment later when Taehyung comes out of nowhere to lean over the desk.

“You look like rudolph!” He announces as he watches Jimin put his mask on. “You can hide it, but I know the truth.” 

“There’s no truth and I’m not hiding anything, Tae.”

“Ohhh, you sound congested, Jiminie. Your nose is bright red, and I can hear how scratchy your throat is.” 

“My nose is not red. Besides, if you want to talk about red– well, I didn’t say anything earlier when the side of your neck was all red from where someone was clearly trying their best to give you a hickey! I’ll say it now, though. And during work hours, Tae?” 

Jimin is deflecting, big time, and he’s only mildly surprised when Jungkook stiffens at his words, Taehyung’s eyes darting over to him.

“I think I’m going to take my lunch now,” Jungkook gulps, wringing his hands together. 

Jimin takes a moment to feel proud of Jungkook for telling them instead of asking them, watching him scurry away with a small smirk while Taehyung continues yapping on behind him about how it wasn’t a hickey but rather a mosquito bite.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” Taehyung groans once Jungkook is out of sight, fond and annoyed all at once. “Sorry for caring about you.” 

Jimin grins. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now, stop caring about me and tell me about what’s going on with you and Jungkookie instead.” 

*

In the afternoon, Jimin is almost ready to admit that he’s feeling unwell, his pace dragging due to the exhaustion that comes from working while under the weather.

Almost ready. 

“I don’t have a fever, Tae! I’m sweaty because I’ve been running around all day, and I’m tired because you’ve been on my ass all day.” 

Jungkook– their loyal shadow, such a great learner but always literally right next to Jimin at all times without fail– nearly runs right into him when he stops walking abruptly.

“Sorry,” Jungkook murmurs automatically, looking down to where he had placed his hand on Jimin’s waist to keep himself from crashing into him fully. 

Jimin gulps, because he can feel the warmth of Jungkook’s palm even through his scrubs, which means Jungkook can almost certainly feel the warmth of his waist before he yanks his hand back. Which wouldn't be a huge problem if not for the fact that Jimin feels like he might actually be running a fever, overwarm and sensitive all over his skin. 

It would be irresponsible to be here at work if he has a fever. He’s already pushing it with the sore throat and runny nose. 

“Let me take your temperature then,” Taehyung insists. 

Just as Jimin opens his mouth to respond, one of Taehyung’s call lights goes off.

“Better get that,” Jimin smirks, leaning against the nurse station counter. “Jungkook, why don’t you go with Tae for this patient?” 

But Taehyung is too stubborn to let it go completely. “Actually, I have an idea! Jungkook, you can take his vitals. It’ll be good practice. I’ll be right back so you can tell me I’m right.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jimin huffs out a breath, but he bites his tongue and watches as Taehyung reluctantly leaves to go check on his patient.

Jungkook steps forward and clears his throat softly. “Uh, Jimin-hyung, should I…?”

Jimin glares in Taehyung’s direction as he responds, “Sure, Jungkook. Go ahead and take my fuckin’ vitals. Might as well do my blood pressure while you’re at it– it’s probably through the roof right now.”

When he sees Jungkook tense up out of the corner of his eye, Jimin takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment before turning to face him.

“Sorry, Kookie. You don’t have to actually do it. I’ll take my own temperature.”

Jungkook grabs a stool and the vitals cart, and rolls them both in front of Jimin. “It’s okay, I could use the practice,” he says, giving Jimin one of his soft, sweet smiles that instantly makes him feel at ease. “If you’re comfortable with me doing it, that is.” 

“Go ahead,” Jimin says, sighing softly. He smiles back. “I’ll be a good patient, I promise.” 

To both of their surprise, Jimin’s blood pressure is actually a little on the high side, and Jungkook just stares at him for a moment until he waves a hand dismissively. 

“That’s normal for me,” he lies.

Jungkook holds up his stethoscope next, and when Jimin gives the go ahead he presses it to his chest, brows furrowed in concentration while he listens to Jimin’s lungs.

It’s then that Jimin realizes his mistake– because as soon as he starts taking deep breaths for Jungkook, he can hear the audible congestion that’s already settled in his lungs, and the slight whistle that comes out of his nose with every exhale. 

Jungkook can hear it too, obviously, and he looks into Jimin’s eyes, near-panic on his face. For a moment, the two of them remain frozen. Jimin carefully glances over in Taehyung’s direction, and is relieved to see that his friend is still with his patient. 

“You can take my temperature now,” Jimin says quietly, knowing that Jungkook won’t say a word about the congestion unless Jimin does first. 

Jungkook nods, and tucks his stethoscope back into his pocket. 

To their left, Jimin hears Taehyung's voice growing louder, and looks over to see Taehyung coming out of the room, his eyes already trained on him and Jungkook again. Luckily for Jimin, though, he gets stopped by a nurse before he can make his way back over.

Jungkook holds up an oral thermometer, and Jimin opens his mouth. He closes it before Jungkook can put the thermometer in, though, and leans forward slightly. 

“Does my throat look inflamed?” He whispers before opening his mouth again.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. He peers into Jimin’s mouth, and his eyes get somehow even bigger, and then he gives a slight nod. Then, he slips the thermometer under Jimin’s tongue. 

Together, they wait in silence, until Jungkook shifts slightly in his chair and clears his throat. 

“Taehyung-hyung says we have sick days,” Jungkook murmurs, so softly that Jimin barely hears him. “It’s okay if you’re sick.” 

Jimin clenches his jaw. It’s bad enough that Taehyung is fussing over him. He doesn’t need Jungkook doing it too, even though he knows it’s only out of concern. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbles around the thermometer, which beeps a moment later. 

Taehyung starts walking their way as Jungkook removes the thermometer and checks the reading. Jimin leans over to check with him. As soon as he sees the number, he lets out a sigh of relief and slumps back in his chair. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asks as he approaches, peering at the thermometer reading. 

“99.1 degrees,” Jungkook replies. “Not a fever…”

Jimin huffs out an irritated breath. “See? You sure I’m sick, Tae? Because I feel fine,” he mutters loudly, nearly wincing at his own lie. 

“Yeah, well. Just because you’re technically not running a fever doesn’t mean you’re not sick,” Taehyung retorts, crossing his arms over his chest suspiciously. “That’s still higher than your baseline and we both know it.” 

Without looking away from Jimin, Taehyung addresses Jungkook. “Remember,” he says slowly, “Watch for the little flush on his cheeks or any shivering– he gets chills easily when he’s sick. And if his head moves and his eyes close at the same time, he’s actually sneezing.”

“I’m not sick. C’mon, Jungkook,” Jimin growls. “You get to come assist me with a catheter insertion. Taehyung, I think you have another call light on.” 

Jungkook scurries after Jimin belatedly, no doubt after exchanging a look with Taehyung, but Jimin can’t bring himself to care, not when his nose is running again and his head is starting to pound with every step he takes.

*

On Wednesday morning, Jimin ends up sleeping right through his alarm. 

He wakes up to Yoongi hovering over him and a hand on his forehead.

“What?” Jimin blurts out, feeling disoriented as he struggles to wake up fully. 

His throat is killing him, and as he pushes himself upright, his sinuses throb with congestion. Yoongi asks him a question, but he can’t make sense of the words. He’s undeniably sick, the illness making his limbs feel heavy and his brain feel foggy. 

“Must be why you went to bed so early last night,” Yoong murmurs, his hand still resting on Jimin’s forehead. 

“I’m tired,” Jimin whispers without thinking, closing his eyes and longing to fall back asleep.

He almost does– but then, Yoongi moves his hand, and Jimin remembers that it’s morning, and he’s supposed to be getting ready for work. If Yoongi is awake before him–

“Should I grab your phone for you?”

Jimin forces his eyes open and blinks sluggishly up at him. “My phone?”

“To call out…?” Yoongi tilts his head to one side. “Don’t tell me you’re still planning on going to work?”

“It’s Wednesday, right?” Jimin pushes the covers off, and shivers at the loss of warmth. “Am I really late?”  

“Don’t you think you should stay home today?”

“I should text Tae and let him know I’m gonna be late. He’s going to give me so much shit.” 

Jimin sniffles, cringing at the awful sound it makes, and scrambles for a tissue from the box on his nightstand.

“Bless you,” Yoongi coos as Jimin sneezes a half dozen times. His hand is on Jimin’s back now, rubbing small circles as Jimin pants and snuffles into his tissue, struggling to breathe through his mouth since his nose is so stuffy.

“It’s just a small cold,” he finds himself saying, his voice hoarse. 

Everything sounds strange and he realizes his ears are a bit plugged up too. He sneezes twice and grabs a handful of tissues. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else, just watches him with a worried look on his face.

Jimin sneezes at least twenty more times in the ten minutes it takes him to shower and get dressed, and by then the medicine has started to kick in. He shoves a handful of throat lozenges into his pocket, fights back tears when Yoongi wraps him up in a hug and asks if he’s sure he really wants to go into work, and then trudges out to the bus stop while mentally preparing himself to face a long, long day at work.

*

That evening, Jimin crawls into bed as soon as he gets home from work and sleeps for fourteen hours straight. 

His sleep is restless, and he spends the night tossing and turning as he drifts in and out of fever-dreams that make his head spin. When he wakes up on Thursday, it’s midday and his muscles ache like he just spent several hours working out every part of his body. 

Jimin knows without even checking that he’s running a fever. He can’t stop shivering, even with the extra blankets that Yoongi had tucked over him at some point. He glances over and sees that Yoongi isn’t in bed with him.

Groaning, he rolls over and reaches for his phone. He’s shocked at the amount of missed phone calls and text messages he has. Most of the texts are from Taehyung, with the most recent one being a short request: 

call me when u wake up u germ spreader

Sighing, Jimin calls Taehyung, then puts his phone on speaker and lays it on his chest so he doesn’t have to hold it.

“Quick question!” Taehyung greets him cheerfully when he answers. Even over the phone, Jimin can hear that his friend is very obviously sick. 

His heart sinks. “Uh, okay?”

“Remember when I asked you if you were sick, and you denied it and stayed at work anyways, and spread your germs around?” 

“Uhh…”

“Well, you got me sick, and I– I mean you…you also got Jungkook sick. Poor thing didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Wait, are you with Jungkook right now? Did he spend the night with you?!”

“That’s none of your business.” Taehyung’s voice drops to a hoarse whisper. “Jungkook is a very cute sick person. Very sweet, and a model patient. But he shouldn’t even be sick. And neither should I.”  

“Wait…you’re both not at work today?”

“Nope! We called out. That’s what people do when they’re sick, you know.”

“Shit. That’s why I have so many missed calls. I should probably go in, we’ve already been so short-staffed lately, and–”

Jimin yelps when his phone is plucked right off his chest. 

“Hey, Taehyungie,” Yoongi says into his phone, giving Jimin a stern look. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t go in. How are you feeling?”

Yoongi is quiet for a moment as he listens to Taehyung’s response. He sits on the edge of the bed, but not close enough for Jimin to take his phone back.

“No shit, you have a boyfriend now? Oh, Jungkook from work? Isn’t he the student nurse?”

Jimin sighs and closes his eyes. Without really meaning to, he tunes out the rest of the conversation, and he’s jolted awake what feels like a minute later by a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey,” Yoongi whispers. “Sorry to wake you. I think you should take some medicine.” 

Sitting up slowly, Jimin tries to keep his eyes open long enough to accept the little plastic cup that Yoongi is holding out to him. He feels heavy again, like all of his limbs are weighed down by some invisible force. 

“Taehyung says you’ve been sick since Monday,” Yoongi says as Jimin sips from the cup of medicine. He sighs, his fingertips brushing across Jimin’s flushed cheek. “I don’t know why you were forcing yourself to work through this.” 

Jimin swallows thickly, but he can’t make his tongue move to form any kind of response. Not that he has one, anyway– in this moment, when he feels so shitty, he has absolutely no clue why he would decide that working while sick had been a good idea. 

“I know it’s hard for you to admit you’re not feeling well,” Yoongi finally says, when he realizes Jimin is probably lost in his own thoughts. “You’re always taking care of other people, and that’s your strength. But sometimes, you have to let people take care of you, too.” 

Tears fill Jimin’s eyes at Yoongi’s words. It must be the fever– but he feels so emotional, sad and guilty and embarrassed all at once.  

“I feel awful that I got TaeTae and Jungkookie sick,” he croaks, sniffling and swiping at his watering eyes. “And now I’m gonna get you sick.” 

“Don’t cry, baby,” Yoongi croons, wrapping Jimin up in his arms. “I’m not worried about your germs. I’m worried about you.”

At that, Jimin promptly bursts into tears, his body shaking as he sags against Yoongi’s chest. 

“Shh,” Yoongi soothes, rubbing his hands up and down Jimin’s back. “You’re okay.” 

Jimin cries and cries, until he feels like his body is drained of everything, and then he ends up crying again when Yoongi leaves to get him a bottle of water for his parched throat. After his tears have fully subsided, he lets Yoongi wipe his nose with a tissue and tuck him back into bed, fussing over the covers so that they’re covering him all the way up to his chin.  

“All you’re doing today is resting. If you need anything, I’ll get it for you. And tomorrow, you’re calling in and taking a sick day. That’s non-negotiable, ‘kay?” 

Nodding, Jimin sniffles miserably. “Okay.” 

Yoongi gets a few things set up on the nightstand, and then crawls into bed beside Jimin. He snuggles up close and adjusts the blankets one last time, nuzzling into the crook of Jimin’s neck. 

Somehow, it’s Yoongi that falls asleep first, his arms wrapped around Jimin, and in his warm embrace Jimin quickly follows.