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taetaemilktea · 1 year ago

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can you please do a Taehyung sicktember fic on-

8. Persistent fever.

Caretaker of your choice.

Thank you <3

Finally! Sorry it took so long, but I finally got something out here~

Sickie: Taehyung Caretaker: Jimin, Jin Content: fever, sinus issues, nausea, vomiting (mentioned)

‘Home early’, Taehyung types in the chat with Jimin, answering the two billion question marks he had sent while he was on the flight. Taehyung was set to do some photography in Tokyo for the next few days, but his managers and one on-site nurse told him they’d postpone and reschedule in two weeks, when the photographer had another open period. Taehyung didn’t think he was doing that poorly, certain the fever was mostly from the hangover and the stage lights, but his manager didn’t believe him for a second. So they packed up, wished him well, threw him in a mask and took the chartered jet back to Seoul.

Taehyung was under strict orders to ‘rest and recuperate’, and with a scoff he just maneuvers himself and his suitcase into his apartment and wishes his manager-hyung good night.

“I mean it,” his manager said, “I’m only leaving you alone because you said you can take care of yourself. So you better. I’m checking on you daily.”

“Hyung, it’s not that bad,” Taehyung dismissed that day, accepting the small hug and rough back pat before his manager moved back. He didn’t even bother checking his messages, didn’t even worry about his suitcase and let it drop in the living room. Shoes off, door locked, security on, Taehyung just ended up flopped in his bed and conking out for the night. He doesn’t catch his manager laying medication out on his dining room table, or the water bottle set at his bedside table next to his phone, before he let himself out and trusted Taehyung to sleep on his own.

~*~

Something felt… off. When Taehyung awoke again, he felt all sorts of wrong. His sinuses felt heavy and swollen, and he just felt overly warm and sweaty. His limbs felt heavy, but he really needed to be awake for a few minutes. He managed to get up for a little, when an odd emptiness bothered him into finally making his way into the kitchen to get something to eat. He didn’t have many fresh groceries, concerned most of it would spoil while he was out, but he did have juice. He grabbed a bottle of orange juice and then raided the pantry for his dry salvageables.

Ramen, perfect. Low-energy, little effort, still delicious. He heated up a small cup, oddly not wanting more. His stomach didn’t feel very solid… but this exhaustion just clung to him like a second skin. This wasn’t normal jetlag; jetlag didn’t normally come with sore limbs and a growing headache. But no food usually came with a headache, he remembered that much.

As his ramen cooked, he took two paracetamol from a pack laid out and sat at his table, checking his phone to send a thanks to his manager. A wonderful 6%, which had him going to find his charger while he waited for the painkillers to kick in. And he smiled. His darling Jiminie had sent him a message, full of emojis and silly aegyo-inspired phrases to greet him. He wanted to know when he was free, they could hang out or call while they didn’t have an agenda.

‘Anytime you want,’ Taehyung answered. ‘I’m free whenever.’

‘You’ve been back for 12 hours, why are you ignoring meeee?’

‘sleepg :(‘ came Taehyung’s lazy reply.

His ramen was done. Taehyung brought the cup to the table with a pair of chopsticks and began to lazily munch away. Just as he shoved a mouthful in, his phone began to buzz—with Jimin’s name flashing over the screen. Taehyung didn’t think twice before opening it, mumbling a weak “Jyiminie!” over his noodles.

Jimin frowned at his friend’s appearance on the camera. “Tae-yah… you don’t look so hot. Did you get sick?”

Taehyung shook his head, but the feeling had him grimacing a little. “Nah… just a headache,” he grumbled. “I think I’m still sleeping off the plane.”

That had Jimin’s frown growing. “But you were only in Japan… Taehyung, what happened?”

Taehyung shrugged. He knew Jimin was off traveling with his family in Europe, he didn’t want to worry him, especially given he was so far away. “They rescheduled everything for a few weeks, when the photographer’s open again. It’s no biggie.”

“Yes it is… Did they send you home sick?”

Taehyung’s deep sigh answered it all. “I’m fine, Jimin-ah. I have meds, I’ll sleep it off. It’s just a cold.”

That had Jimin sighing. He took a moment to doublecheck, asking what medication Taehyung had in his cabinet, offering to order him something if necessary. Taehyung waved him off, assuring Jimin of the cold medication he still had and a half-empty bottle of cough syrup. He showed Jimin the boxes as they chatted, for his friend’s approval. Jimin didn’t keep him on the phone long, telling him to sit still and eat his noodles. Taehyung put on light jazz and ate quietly, before he just trudged his way back to his room.

He was out by the time his head hit the pillow.

~*~

Taehyung woke to the sounds of something clanking around his kitchen. Worried about an intruder—a sasaeng, maybe?!—he sat up carefully, eyes darting around the room to look for any hidden cameras or ropes or odd people. Intruders to celebrities could be dangerous, and despite his apartment complex having top notch security, there had been a few incidences here and there. He felt wide awake, immediately although a thick feeling creeping up his throat made him want to cough. Taehyung slapped both hands over his mouth to stifle his sounds, then sipped at the water.

Then worriedly stared at the water: what if it’s poisoned?!

But… it tasted like water. It was warm, boring… maybe not poisoned. Taehyung glanced at his phone, to realize it’s been plugged into the bedside charger. Weird… When he tapped the screen, he noticed a few messages, all from Jimin.

Oh gods, Jimin could help.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to open the contact information, ignoring the texts in favor of dialing him immediately.

There was a ding from the living room, followed by a light ringtone that Taehyung recognized instantly. And Jimin’s soft, light voice asking aloud, “Who could be calling right now?”

Taehyung didn’t move the phone until he heard the ringtone stop. Then Jimin’s voice on the other line, lighthearted but very confused: “Tae-yah? Why are you calling?”

“Jiminie… Are… are you in my house?”

That had the smaller boy huffing out a laugh, followed by footsteps shuffling to his room. When the door opened more than just a crack, he could see his best friend standing inside, his dyed-blonde hair peeking from underneath a beanie. Immediate comfort flooded Taehyung’s senses, and as he dropped his arm with the phone, he just huffed in a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“You moron, you scared me!”

Well… that was valid. Now that Taehyung mentioned it, Jimin realized he didn’t really leave many clues. Just the message, as he pointed to Taehyung’s hand. “Well, I texted you I was coming over. I’m sorry.”

Groaning, Taehyung laid back on the bed. He felt drained again already, ready to sleep that fear out of his bones. Jimin just walked in, smoothing down his hair. “Sorry, friend. You didn’t seem like you were doing so well, so I came to check on you. I’m making soup.”

Oh.

Well, that was nice.

Taehyung smiled, a wide, dopey look as he leaned back on one arm. “You’re literally the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“Good!” Jimin danced back to the kitchen with a little wiggle, which had Taehyung laughing as he watched him head back. Feeling far more relieved, he flopped back against his pillow and opened his messages, clicking through them lazily. A response to manager-hyung—he’s fine, and a bonus Jimin!—and some emojis to Jimin himself, and one back to the group chat to send kissy faces and tell everyone he’s fine. He was just tired. He lets out a loud, obnoxious sneeze, before he just sniffles and turns onto his side.

He didn’t mean to doze off, but he woke up when Jimin calls his name, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s tiny hand reached up to smooth back his hair. “Tae-yah?”

“Hmm?” Taehyung’s eyelids felt so heavy. His limbs felt weighed down, but so warm.

“Taetae… your fever feels like it’s gotten worse. Have you taken any medication? Today?”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Dunno… when did you first text me?” Honestly, Taehyung wasn’t even sure when he got back. How many hours had it been since hyung took him home? He figured it’s been more than enough time, and shrugged, sitting up. Jetlag is a bitch. “It’s okay, Jyiminie. You cooked, right?”

Jimin nodded. “Food, then medicine, then you can rest some more.” But his words had an edge of finality to it. Taehyung knew this voice well: it meant Jimin was going to get his way because he said so. But the idea of food is enough to get Taehyung out of bed. He flopped himself over Jimin’s shoulder, laughing when Jimin complained about him stepping on his heels, and the two trekked into the dining area. Honestly, Taehyung just had a dining table because he had drinking guests; usually, they ended up in front of the television to eat and chat, but the table was a good place for shots and bigger course meals. All two times a year he hosted anything.

The soup Jimin made was absolutely delicious. There was minimal kick in the spice, gentle for Taehyung’s sensitivity to spicy foods, but flavorful enough it makes him smile. He drinks more broth than noodle, picks around a few of the vegetables, and nearly yawns into his spoon. He’s just… drained.

“I hope this helps bring down your fever,” Jimin says softly, reaching over to stroke his curly hair. It’s a mess, hardened with old hairspray and oils he hasn’t washed yet. “Have you had any other symptoms? Are you coughing?”

Taehyung just shakes his head. “Not really… most of it’s just drainage. I had to blow my nose a lot yesterday.”

Or, what he thought was yesterday. This fever just makes him feel foggy, warm and heavy-limbed and exhausted. A tickle in his throat has him leaning his head into his hands, letting out a few wet-sounding coughs. He wipes leftover spittle onto his napkin.

“Okay. Medication then sleep.” That sounded great. Jimin gets some nyquil into him, and some tea, makes him wash his face, and tucks him into bed with the promise that he’ll be there when he wakes up.

~*~

When Taehyung wakes up, his body is sore and he feels rotten. His limbs ache and he feels overheated, enough that he roughly kicks his blanket before he kicks too hard and finds a leg.

Jimin looks over. He’s typing away at his phone, playing some sort of game, but pauses when he catches Taehyung trying to free himself from his blanket. To help, he reaches a hand over and tugs the blanket down to his legs.

“Taetae-yah, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“I’m… hot.”

Jimin tries not to snicker. “Well. Yeah, you’re sick. Feeling overheated?”

Taehyung groans, turning onto his stomach. Jimin sets a hand on his back and begins to rub his spine, but the sensation makes him feel itchy and uncomfortable, and he wiggles. “N-no…”

“No?” Jimin’s hand stops. “Taehyung, talk to me. What are you feeling?”

Taehyung groans. Laying this way doesn’t help either. Just laying here feels uncomfortable, and he turns on his side, freeing his legs completely. His pajamas feel too rough, but the idea of standing to move, change, or remove anything seems to be the worst thing. When Jimin moves his hand to touch Taehyung’s neck, the younger one squirms a little.

“No, Jyimine, it hurts,” he whimpers into the blanket.

“What hurts? Did you injure yourself?” Jimin asks, but he’s kind enough to move his hand back, shifting closer to Taehyung’s face. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Taehyung barely shakes his head into the pillow, groaning as he does so. Why did every terrible symptom have to hit him then? His headache is back, with a slow, steady throbbing. He feels nauseous from it. “No just… anything touching me… it hurts.”

“Oh…” Jimin knows this too well. When he feels too sick, his old injuries flare up and he feels nothing but pain in the worst areas for hours. But it’s been a while since Taehyung’s last dose, and he’s slept long enough that he could take some more. “Can you sit up? Let me get you some painkillers, we can see if that helps.” Not the strongest, not while he’s like this, but… Tylenol should help. Jimin slides from the bed to get the pills and water ready, leaving Taehyung to work the strength to sit up. When he finally manages to, he takes the pills from Jimin and lets his friend help him with the water. With the pills flushed down his system, Taehyung drops heavily back onto the bed, groaning when Jimin places a cold compress on the back of his neck.

But it… feels good.

“Thanks, Jyiminie.”

“Anytime, Taetae. Get some more sleep.”

~*~

By day three, Jimin had called in reinforcements. Reinforcements come in the form of Jin making a good soup, bringing in good OTC medication, and an extra person to cuddle on the couch. Taehyung felt absolutely rotten by this point, taking to dragging around his comforter around his shoulders any time he left his room. He ends up tucked into Jin’s side, letting Jin feed him whenever he got hungry for some snack or another.

Taehyung doesn’t remember much about day three.

~*~

On the fourth day, more so later that evening, Jimin tugs the thermometer from Taehyung’s mouth and frowns. Taehyung takes the chilsung cider offered and sips at it slowly, enjoying the cold feeling. The carbonation isn’t comfortable for his throat, but it settles his stomach. The nausea had worsened overnight, to the point where Taehyung was struggling to keep food down. Besides a bit of broth from that afternoon, he hasn’t had much luck.

The chills are worse, and he’s buried deep in his comforter and still asking for another blanket. His legs have been aching, on top of all of that.

“Your fever’s up, jagiya,” Jimin says softly.

“What’s new?” Taehyung responds, pouting around his straw.

Jimin strokes his hair gently, what little he can reach from Taehyung’s comforter, and the younger one leans into the touch. While the rest of him is sore, Jimin’s touch is light and familiar, and comforting. He’s worried, Taehyung can tell, but he’s too drained to do anything about it. He trusts his hyung and his soulmate, he’ll be okay.

If he listens vaguely, he can hear Jin on the phone. The eldest had stepped away to make a phone call, but Taehyung can tell it’s either to their team doctor or to the staff’s nurse team. “—up to 38.9 now,” Jin murmurs. Or rather, Jin could be speaking normally, but things sound muffled. Taehyung just leans into Jimin’s touch and closes his eyes. “It’s not spiking, just… steadily climbing. He said he’s achy, he had a headache earlier, and right now he’s been nauseous. Ne, ne. He vomited earlier, but I think he’s trying not to again. Mm.” Jin trudges back into the room. “Tae-yah?”

Taehyung groans. “Hyung?”

“Do you think we can get you to the car? The nurse says we should get you—”

That has the sick boy groaning, shaking his head. “I ‘on’t wanna,” he groaned. “I can just sleep it off. It’s only been a day.”

“Tae-yah, you’ve been home for four days. Your fever is persisting for too long, and you’re literally not getting better…”

Taehyung groans, shaking his head. He tugs the blanket over his face, pulling away from the solace of his friend’s gentle touch. When he feels a hand press on his shoulder, he flinches and tucks himself in further.

“Jin-hyung, don’t—” Jimin protests. His voice is muffled, but the hand goes away, and Taehyung’s shoulders droop, but he’s trembling. Taehyung whines into the blanket.

Gentle fingers reach for the blanket, easing it away from his face. “Tae-yah, you’ll overheat. Jin won’t touch your shoulder, okay?”

“Do I have to get up?” Taehyung asks softly. “Jiminie, I don’t want to leave…”

Jimin hesitates, looking up at Jin. Jin, frowning at them, turns into the phone. “Can the doctor come to us? Taehyungie’s not sure he can get up right now. He can? Oh that’s perfect. We’ll be here. I’ll give him some more ibuprofen while we wait.”

Perfect. Jimin releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, but he grabs the water bottle while Jin opens the ibuprofen and knocks four pills into his hand.

“Okay, Tae-yah. The doctor’s coming to you, but you have to take some medicine first.”

Awful. But a deal is a deal. Taehyung grumbles, propping himself up on one arm, his opposite hand reaching out for the tablets. He lets Jimin help him with the water and washes down the medication quickly. It’ll be irritating, on an empty stomach, but the doctor knows best. If the nausea settles, if his fever goes down, he’ll get to eat again. As Jin looks at him with worry and gently scratches his hair, Jimin glances up and hopes to see his friend’s health make a turnaround soon. Both help him lay back on the couch before Jin joins Jimin to sit on the floor. As Taehyung begins to doze again, the two older ones take a breath and let it out slowly. Their doctor is coming. Taehyung will be okay.

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