#is this considered sickness or emeto?
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Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions Belly Sighting
So a great new series called Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions (Though the other version of the title is Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective which I think just sounds cooler) is a new anime based on the manga by Akira Amano. She's created some other great series like Reborn and élDLIVE and has done the designs for characters in Psycho Pass. But this marks at least the third time that series she's associated with have had great belly content like here and here.
Ron Kamonohashi is a disgraced detective, forbidden from actually solving crimes due to an incident in his past. He uses his friend and police officer Totomaru Isshiki to help him solve crimes for...reasons.
Anyway, Ron loves brown sugar syrup and here he is after he ate extremely well at a buffet. It's even canon to the manga too!
I love this clip and it came out of nowhere. Plus I love him hola hooping and making himself sick here because he's a doof and had this on his wish list of things to do. He definitely should and probably could eat more. Since there's only one video per post I'll post this with the clip showing his spread right before too.
#The reasons are really good vore reasons#belly kink#stuffing#male stuffing#is this considered sickness or emeto?#Sick yes though he's just dumb#ron kamonohashi#Ron Kamononohash's Forbidden Deductions#Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective#Feed him#He could eat enough to get stuck in that hola hoop#It sounds like he could have more#I know a spoiler that makes it sound like his food coma was unnatural so he could have more#burp#there's a small burp in the manga panel#burp kink#Man I also love that aerial view in the manga shot#bloated belly
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aughh tummy aches from overeating my beloved 😋 who do you think would be most prone?
omg bug this is a fantastic question I've been thinking about it for a few days while this has been in my ask box...i think Tachihara is super prone to this, he definitely eats without thinking when he's having dinner with other people and chattin it up...sitting there groaning with a hand on his tummy and complaining about how he doesn’t feel too good by the end...Dazai too, his irregular eating habits make it so he's not used to over eating and he'll make himself feel pukey by accident when he's snacking...another one would be Sigma too, stress eating for sure, already feeling nauseous from stress and then being Really Actually nauseous from accidently stuffing himself as a result of the stress lol...miserable and hunched over in a chair and breathing around it all....whewwww
#delicious things to consider thank you#i hope you guys know that i sit here for like 20 minutes deciding what pronouns to write for sigma every time but i always pick he#because i know a lot of non bsd watchers follow me lol#bsd headcanons#tachihara#dazai#sigma#emeto#vomiting#emeto scenario#emetophilia#stuffing#over eating#nausea#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#illness#sick#ask box#stomachache
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my tita got us a reservation at an ~al fresco dining~ place advertising a view of taal volcano but were in the middle of a storm so the view is just silent hill
#vic.png#fitting considering i feel like im in silent hill <- siya did not take niya antipsychotics#also i got sick and threw up in the ocean earlier too i have not been having a good time#emeto in tags
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how filling - che'nya x dom(ish) top amab reader
MINORS DNI
tags: che'nya exhibiting some yandere behavior, stuffing, emeto, mentions of sickness, implied fwb relationship, slightly under-negotiated kink
a/n: unofficial sequel to this fic. you don't have to read it to enjoy this one, but there's some details that are carried over
You’re smirking before Che’nya even opens the door, his genuine look of shock being just what you predicted.
“Surprise…”
“Wha-“ his wide yellow eyes blink slowly as if he thought you were a hallucination. You suppose this is your first time visiting him at the Royal Sword Academy, and it gives you satisfaction knowing you’ve caught him off guard for once.
“Gonna invite me in, kitty? You know I’m really not supposed to be here, so there’s no telling what goody two shoes might report me.” You glance down the dorm hallway, which is thankfully still vacant. Unfortunately, you don’t have Che’nya’s disappearing ability, which allows him to be effortlessly sneaky.
“You never need an invitation” he eyes you curiously as he steps back to let you in, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders. You swiftly step inside allowing yourself to scan the dimly lit room, which you’ve only seen in pictures and video calls. Considering you are childhood friends, one would think you would have visited him at some point during the three years you’ve been enrolled at separate schools, but he dropped in on you so frequently there was never a need to.
“How are you feeling?” You set down the bag you brought on his desk. You had brought him some food since he had told you he was slowly getting his appetite back.
“A bit better I suppose” he pouts slightly shuffling back over to his bed. “I’m going to start going back to classes tomorrow.”
“Oh really?” You join him on his bed, and you notice his soft look of surprise when you leave no distance between you two. “I hope you’re not pushing yourself to go back too soon. Someone has been bringing you your work, no?” You can’t help but reach out a hand to try to assess his condition yourself. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, and it feels normal, but you press it to his cheek for good measure. He purrs at your actions, holding your hand against his cheek as he nuzzles into it further.
“You’re not worried about getting sick?” Che’nya looks more like himself than ever glancing up at you seductively with a smirk on his face. “Or maybe you just missed me too much.”
“Says the one who’s texted me nonstop telling me how miserable he is and complained that he had no one to take care of him.”
“No one as fun as you at least” he teasingly kisses the back of your hand that he’s still holding against his face.
“You really must be feeling better” you surmise. If he hadn’t sent you pictures of him looking peakish or voice messages of his terribly hoarse voice, you might believe he exaggerated his sickness to get you to come over. Though you were still suspicious of his intentions when he sent you a picture of him in his bed yesterday, dressed in lingerie and claiming to be “sooo bored.” You couldn’t deny part of you hoped that same lingerie was hidden under his blanket now.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come over when you were sicker”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to come at all, but I’m glad you did” he gives you a toothy grin. “And you brought me something” his eyes glance over to the bag you brought, ears twitching with anticipation.
“Don’t get too excited. I just thought you might like a home cooked meal now that you’re eating more. You are keeping your food down now, right?”
“You made me food?” The second part of your sentence gets ignored as the thought of you preparing something for him evidently fills his head. His starry-eyed gaze keeps shifting from you to the bag, so you figure you might as well offer it to him now, which he readily accepts.
“It’s not anything special. You know I’m not much of a cook, so I just made you your favorite stew and also a strawberry tart, but you don’t have to eat it today of course” Your humble words do nothing to dull his excitement, his eager eyes never leaving you as you take out the stew and use your magic to heat it for him.
“Here you go” You try to hand him the bowl, but he gives you a sly look exposing his bare chest as he pulls his arms out of his blanket.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to have any spare hands at the moment” he shrugs his shoulders as he displays his arms that seemingly have no hands attached.
“How curious…” you steal his common phrase giving him a knowing look. “I guess I’ll have to feed it to you then.”
“I guess so…” Che’nya looks at you innocently, but you can imagine the playful flick of his tail being concealed by his blanket.
He happily accepts spoonfuls of stew, letting out occasional hums of pleasure between bites. Before you know it, he’s cleaned out the bowl and is asking for the strawberry tart. You attempt to get him to hold off to ensure the stew settles well in his stomach, but he insists he’s fine, so you get out the tart.
“And you made this?” The hunger in his eyes appears deeper than a desire for food.
“Yeah. Trey had a busy week, so I didn’t want to bother him with it. I followed his recipe though, so I think it turned out well”
“I’m sure it’s delicious” he assures you. “Especially since you were thinking of me while baking it” he doesn’t even try to veil his delight over the thought. He opens his mouth expectantly and you feed him a bite, choosing not to comment on the reappearance of his hands.
“Mmmm,” he licks his lips as if to savor every crumb. You offer him bite after bite which he chomps on happily.
“Okay maybe we should stop here, and that way you’ll have some more for later.”
“No” he whines. “It’s so good. I don’t want to stop.” He looks at you through his lashes pleading with you. “Please, feed me more.” Against your better judgment, you give in to him.
“Ok… but if you push yourself too far, that’s on you” you warn giving him another bite. He lets out an approving nod, humming happily. You can’t deny it does stir something in you seeing him eat your food so earnestly. You believe your own eyes must be filled with hunger when the blanket slips off his body, revealing him to only be wearing boxers. The band sits below his stomach which has a noticeable bulge.
He rubs it lazily as he takes longer breaks between bites. You assume he’s getting full based on his deeper breathing, but he has yet to refuse a bite, his soft smile never leaving his face. While he seems as content as ever you find yourself shifting in your spot, trying to ignore the feeling of your cock straining against your pants.
You came here as a friend you try to remind yourself, but the praise that falls from Che’nya’s lips doesn’t help your situation.
“Mmmm, I missed being able to eat properly, but now you’ve ruined other food for me. How am I supposed to enjoy anything when I know I could have your cooking instead? It feels so good being full of your food, so you have to cook for me more, okay?” He rubs his belly with both hands as if admiring the bulge himself.
“My belly would definitely get bigger if I got to eat your cooking all the time” he giggles to himself. “Wouldn’t you like to see that” He looks at you suggestively, and you can hardly hold yourself back any longer, moving your body so that you’re straddling his lap. He looks at you with amused curiosity, gently bucking up against you when you rub your hands across his stomach just like he was doing moments prior.
“I would actually” you smirk “But for now, how about you eat these last two bites for me”
“If that’s what you want” he whines a bit when you move your hands, but he looks at you with heavy lust as he wraps his lips around the fork you offer him. He pants slightly as he licks his lips, and you can’t help but offer him the last bite straight from your hands.
He doesn’t immediately take your fingers in his mouth, which is how you know he is reaching his limit. He takes a moment, seemingly steeling himself for the last bite, but eventually opens his mouth allowing you to place the last piece of tart inside. He closes his lips around your fingers, making sure to lick the tip of your fingers before he chews the bite in his mouth.
“Look at you, kitty. You actually ate it all” You go back to rubbing his stomach, letting your fingers drift a little higher to tease his nipples.
“Ah,” he lightly gasps. “I know I could fit more” he slightly lifts his hips so he can slowly grind against you.
“I should have known you’d be insatiable, even when you’re still recovering.” You lean back, letting your fingers lightly trace the stain of precum that marks his boxers. He’s all too eager to help you take off his only piece of clothing. He hisses in pleasure when you finally take him in your hand, but he’s quick to insist you rid yourself of your clothes too.
Just as eager to feel his touch, you don’t argue, swiftly getting off him so you can fulfill his request. You lay beside him now, his hands immediately going to stroke you. Your intermingled moans fill the space between you as you get each other off. You take your other hand and rub it against his tip, causing his hips to jerk. His head falls against your shoulder as he lets out a strangled moan, and you continue your movements.
“Please… I’m ready for you…” he manages to pant out. “…wanna be full.”
“I don’t know if you should take me.” You can’t help but still be concerned about his limits.
“But I wan-“ He interrupts his own sentence with a cough, barely managing to cover his mouth. He pauses for a moment, but another harsh cough racks his body, most likely remnants of the sickness he had. He slowly sits up, facing away from you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Even though he stopped coughing, he still sits frozen, hand covering his mouth.
“Che’nya?” you have a feeling you know what’s wrong and those thoughts are soon confirmed when he starts his next coughing fit. Instead of covering his mouth, he instantly reaches for the wastebin by his bed that’s half filled with tissues. He clutches it tightly his cough suddenly turning into retching.
At the sound of him emptying his stomach into the wastebin, you quickly move so that you’re by his side. You soothingly rub his back as he continues to vomit, waiting patiently for him to get it all out.
“Fuck” he rasps out, a trail of saliva still hanging from his bottom lip and tears dotting the corner of his eyes. He wipes his mouth then takes a deep breath as he looks up, closing his eyes. Your hand that’s on his back drifts up to the nape of his neck where you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger.
“This is where you say I told you so” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, managing a small smirk. He doesn’t even wait for you to answer, softly chuckling to himself. “But I would do it again”
“My food was that good, huh?” There’s doubt laced in your words.
“Hmmmhmmm” he hums, his eyes are closed again, and you wonder if he’s feeling another wave of nausea, but he puts the wastebin back on the floor instead. “What can I say? I’ll always want all of you”
“I know” are the words you choose to say after a beat of silence. Instead of further acknowledging his feelings you bring a hand to his stomach, rubbing small and gentle circles across his abdomen.
He lets out a sound that is both a sigh and a moan. You haven’t even touched his nipples and yet he seems to be turned on, his dick twitching. “I think I want you to fill me up even more now” he admits.
“If that’s what you want” you graze your finger over his nipple while planting a kiss on his shoulder. His breathing becomes ragged as you tease his skin between your teeth. You play with his chest for a bit longer before asking him where he keeps his lube.
Che'nya lays on his side, massaging his stomach as he waits for you. Despite his flushed face, his tail still moves with eager anticipation as you settle in your place behind him. He's quieter than usual, only making a soft pleased sound as you push your fingers into him.
“More” he begs, and you oblige, finally lining your cock up with his entrance.
“Let me know if you need me to stop” you remind him before pushing your tip in. You slowly bottom out waiting until he gasps for you to move to continue with your thrusts.
“Fuck…you feel so hot and tight around me, kitty” You snap your hips into him a bit harder. “It feels so good”
“Ah- “ Che’nya grips his bedsheets tighter, and you hear a gurgling sound come from his stomach.
“Don’t stop” he whimpers feeling you hesitate. You place your hand on his stomach and feeling it rumble beneath your touch, you fuck into him with new fervor.
“Aghh” he gasps and leans over off the bed just in time for a thin stream of vomit to make it mostly into the wastebin. With Che’nya’s walls squeezing tightly around you, you reach your climax with a couple more thrusts. He holds your hand that rests on his stomach and whines as he feels you fill him up.
Keeping yourself buried in him, you move your other hand to his cock to help him finish, which only takes a few strokes. You take in his dazed expression and faint smile, feeling an urge to kiss his sweat slicked skin. He whimpers at the feeling of your lips on his neck, his classic Cheshire grin appearing as you trail slow kisses up his jawline.
“Yup,” he sighs blissfully. “I would definitely do it again”
#now that i have this very indulgent fic out of my system i can work on those drabbles#che'nya x reader#cw emetophobia#emeto#cw sickness#stuffing#twst smut#twst x male reader#twst ☆ che'nya !
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Been here for a while, enjoying your fics. ❤️
Could you consider to write something including post - concussion emeto? Maybe with Matthew, because who else would be hit 😅
Greetings,
A.
Hello A.! I'm so happy you are enjoying yourself, that's super sweet! ❤️ Thank you so much for the request! Ran away from me a little but includes what you wanted :D I'm very honoured.
This one's crying, the other's sick
Seline is upset and crying. Matthew comforts her, when it turns out he came home with a concussion.
There will be no direct trains because of construction work. You can take the bus and the train connection, but we can't guarantee your way if either is delayed.
Just great. Exactly what she needed for the travel home to see her parents.
Seline knew she was freaking out for no reason. This fact didn't make it any easier to not do it.
Her life has always been divided into two places. Bratislava and Vienna. Home and school, parents and friends, Slovak and German.
She knew and her parents knew that her life was heading into the direction of Vienna - more money, more prestige, the use of languages. Slovakia was a nice home, but everyone who had any sense, ambition and knew just a bit of English moved out for college and never returned.
But Seline doubted as many people had such a good relationship with their parents. That's why she wasn't moving out even after 10 years of travelling. She even felt sorry for all her classmates and colleagues, many of which had to move to Vienna at 18 for university. Without parents and roots and childhood friends. Independence and adult responsibilities. Or were they proud of it? Was it a good thing they couldn't be children for that long?
When she asked her friends from countries farther away, like Bulgaria or Italy, they said it was fine. That they couldn't imagine living with their parents again or still. That it was nice to live alone.
Maybe they just didn't like being around them as much as Seline. Having such close relationship with your own mother was from what Seline could see, quite the exception. Her mother was her most trusted friend, her confidante, her idol and advisor. Seline's friends didn't call their mothers for two hours a day and they didn't visit every weekend and they didn't...
Seline wouldn't have moved out if it wasn't for the fights with her younger brother. And because she got good work at the university as an assistant, but that was running out. Every year was a risk of not getting the contract prolonged. She considered studying another master degree, cause as long as she was a student, they were more likely to keep her. Graduated non-students were more expensive because of taxes. PhD students were the most risky, cause they go no funding without an actual job at a project or faculty. And those were all temporary, only for a limited amount of years. Not to mention the law in Austria that you couldn't work at the same university more than 8 years on temporary contracts, which was supposed to protect university staff. Except the universities, instead of employing people without temporary contracts, didn't employ them at all, until they came with a few years of foreign experince. Go for a two years to England. Or France. Or anywhere else. Uproot yourself and maybe we will get you back.
Very family friendly.
So it somehow happened that Thursday morning she found out that her train for Friday to visit her parents would take 1.30h instead of 50 minutes and because the bus could be late and the train that you should change after wouldn't wait in the case it was, meant she would be straned somewhere in Parndorf.
So she would have to take the train before, that was direct and safe, which meant she would travel for an hour earlier, miss the connection she would have if the train were normal, wait two hours at the main station in Bratislava to get to her parents house. Her house. Whatever it was.
This would normally not anger her to the point of tears, but it was about a week before her period, so PMS was hitting her hard.
She didn't want to go to the train sooner. Or wait at the station because she missed the direct beautiful train that would get her to the home town near Bratislava.
She could take a taxi and pay more. Or take her own car. But Seline hated driving. It was stressful and fearsome and horrible responsibility and each bigger car or faster driving car made her jump in her seat in deadly fear. Her father would scoff at her for being so panicked about it. That she should drive more to get rid of it.
Well. Because of the fear, her main goal was not to drive.
Either with time with the train, with money with the taxi or with effort and nerves with the car. Nothing was for free.
She left her car at her parents anyway. Didn't need it in Vienna with all their great public transport connections. It was a relief she didn't gave to consider going with a car and no one could guilt her into using it.
She had two roomates who liked driving and cars. But she couldn't exactly ask them for a 1 hour long drive on the highway to Bratislava to see her parents.
Isaiah didn't complain about her visiting her parents during weekends. Since their schedules at university weren't packed, they had most Mondays free and other days during the week with only one seminar or online class here and there and could be together.
Seline loved not having to commute. To stay in bed until 11, talk with Isaiah over lunch, take a walk in the park or by the river and go to a seminar at 5 in the evening, meet with friends after or a bit before. Leisure nice days. Working 8-5 terrified her. She loved the flexibility, the way she could rule her time, do homework or write essays whenever she felt like, write stories and her poems whenever she was inspired, listen to music till 2 in the morning or binngewatch series all evening.
Though evening were usually reserved for movie nights with the whole trio. She loved those too.
Standing between two worlds was always a trait of hers. Something she was at peace at. But deciding between one home or the other, one city or the other and the time between pained her still, or even more so, after 10 years of back and forth.
If she could just buy that two generational house somewhere close to Vienna, on the fringes of the city and have them all there. Travel would take 20 minutes with the subway, her parents and her pack would be at the same place and they could have a view on the fields and not on the people and noise filled buildings of the city...
Except her parents still worked in Bratislava, and her grandmother and her uncle lived there and their families lived there and...and her parents didn't even speak German.
She could go back and live in Slovakia. She would get a high paid job just for speaking German and English so well. Lots of her friends from primary school did that. Those that didn't leave for France, US, Belgium or as far as Australia, that is.
She never saw her future in Bratislava. Not with the communist looking buildings and shabby streets and corrupt government and horrible health care. But she grew up around fields, open sky and on the train. City life was culturally shocking.
Seline walked back and forth on her floor, stamping her feet in anger. She let the frustrated tears loose, no one was home. Updating her train app if the connections didn't change after all didn't bring any new results for the 5th time.
She ended up in the hall, by the stairs, leaning against the wall. Today was a good day to wallow in self-pity as any. Hugging her knees, she cried quietly, half-realizing she was just being dramatic and the situation wasn't half as bad as her riled up emotions would have her believe.
"Whoa, hey. Are you crying for real?"
Seline almost jumped out of her skin at Matthew's tone, shooting up to her feet. "W-what are you doing here?!"
Matthew stood on the last step of the steps next to her. His knuckles were still wrapped in white bandages, so must have been boxing and returned sooner. He was gripping the railing tight and looked pale and tired, but the sarcastic tone and raised eyebrow chased her worries away. "I live here. Duh."
"T-that's my floor." She hurriedly rubbed at her face to get rid of the moisture. "I didn't hear you arrive."
"You were...preoccupied," Matthew said dryly. "So what's up? Did something happen? Should I go beat someone up?"
Seline chuckled despite the tears and her emberassment for him to catch her like this. "No. That's really sweet, but not at all necessary."
Matthew gave her a dubious look, then crouched down on the ground next to her, sliding down the wall slowly. "Something must have happened."
"Nothing happened. I'm just being silly." She waved his concern away, trying to smile.
"Uhm. Do you want me to call Isaiah?"
"No!"
Matthew blinked at her vehemence.
Seline ran her hands through her hair and sat down back next to him, back against the wall. "Nothing happened. It would just worry him."
"If he could comfort you, I'm sure he would be happy to worry. Maybe I just can't say what you need to hear."
"It's fine. Seriously. I'm overreacting because of hormones. Nothing is wrong." She flushed a little, realzing she said hormones, but when Matthew didn't laugh or say she was a hysterical girl, her shoulders slumped in relief and she relaxed a little.
"I didn't realize you two were so similar. Always such a put together front," Matthew commented, looking away with a sigh.
"You really want to hear my stupid reason?" She showed him the screen of her phone, too quickly for him to focus without realizing. "The trains won't be running at the time I wanted to go home tomorrow. I will have to leave early and wait up till my parents come home for them or take a risky train-bus connection that doesn't have to work out."
Stunned silence. "Can't you just drive?"
"No, I can't just drive," she said, annoyed. "I hate driving and I don't have my car here and you can go and say how this is my fault for not overcoming myself with the car and-"
"Fine, I give up." Matthew put his hands up in surrender. "You have a total right to hate driving. You want me to drive you?"
"I-" Seline spluttered for air. "I-I can't ask that of you-"
"Well, you aren't asking, I'm offering," Matthew said with a shrug. "I can drive you to your parent house and then go back. Your trains will work on Sunday, right? I can pick you up at the station."
Seline crossed her arms on her chest, avoiding his gaze. "It's just this one time. I can take the trains normally, the timing fits well, with them coming home and all. Just this once." Shouldn't she invite him over when he drives her that long? She didn't invite him or Isaiah to meet her family yet.
"It's no problem," he said tiredly. "Stop defending it like I'm moving a mountain for you. If you told this to Isaiah, even hinted at it, he would offer the same."
Seline nodded, eyes overflowing with tears again, this time from how touched she was. Seriously, today was such a stupid day. She was crying for everything. "Thank you."
"Oi. What now?" Matthew said, a little exasperated. He turned to her, wrapping his bandaged hand around her elbow and then pushed her forward against his chest.
Seline melted at the contact, pressing her crying face against his chest. Matthew enclosed his arms around her, practically dragging her to sit in his lap as he held her. She sat with her side and arm against his chest.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is just over emotion. Don't worry," she said reassuringly as his hug tighthened.
He sighed into her hair.
She laughed nervously against his ear, chin on his shoulder, wanting to fill the silence with something. "No way I want Isaiah to see me like this. Giant minus point, to have such an emotional girl on his hands. He would be running for the hills."
Matthew snorted. "But you don't mind me seeing?"
"You won't break up with me," she said with a half-broken smile.
"He wouldn't either."
"Not on the first time. But on the fifth time? Tenth time? I better not give him more difficult times if I can help it, before he starts counting."
Matthew shook his head. She could feel the movement against her face as she closed her eyes. "No one is counting. That's not what couples do."
"Oh really? It's all I'm doing. Counting how much we are giving each other and if it's still ends up in mutual benefit."
She could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. "I don't think it's supposed to work like that. It's not a business deal."
"It's very similar. I have to be pretty enough, attractive enough, smart and entertaining so when I really really need something, I can get a favour and not waste on something stupid and minor like this-"
"Isaiah would run himself to the ground caring for you and never think of something like that."
"Well, that's just because he is kind and selfless and so self-sacrifacing towards everyone. Doesn't make me any special."
Seline frowned. "I love you."
Matthew leaned forward, his face in his hands, leaving her with the view on his back. "You think emotion doesn't play any role? People aren't just a list of plus and minus traits. You feel something about them too. If everyone was so strick as you say, I wouldn't make the list for anyone."
There was a beat of silence.
Matthew jerked underneath her, looking up, face going all red. "What? Where did that come from?"
"You are right." Seline shrugged. "I'm very rational about the whole dating thing, comparing and counting things, because I don't want the pink glasses to blind me to our compatability. But when it comes to friendships or family or...well, pack, it's all about feelings and I know what I feel. I love you. In the family sort of way."
Matthew rubbed his forehead, unsuccessfully trying not to blush. "You have never said it to Isaiah, you can't blurt it out like that to me."
Seline suspected there hadn't been enough people saying it to Matthew in general. "I love him too. But if we work out as a couple, I have to love him in that other, romantic way too. I'm not sure we are that far yet."
Yes, she was attracted to Isaiah. It's been very hard for her to fall in love, to respect let alone to admire someone else, so she was very happy she found him. And he was intelligent, thoughtful, considerate and he put so much effort into everything and she admired him for many things...but she never had such a long relationship, as she was not interested in dating in her teen years, and the inexperience was making her cautious.
Matthew shook his head, burying it in his hands once again. He was breathing all harsh and fast. She could feel his chest heave underneath her. She wrapped her hands around his neck, suprised at how sweaty he was and how weirdly pale...was he like that from the start?
"Hey, Matt-"
"You two should really," he gulped loudly, shuddering, "have a talk. Being this tense and counting around each other can't be- hrrrk-" he burped loudly, slamming a hand to his lips.
Seline retracted her arms back, putting one gently on his chest and the other on his stomach. He was still breathing so fast and his stomach was heaving, like it shriveled under her palms...and suddenly Matthew leaned to the side and gagged violently over her arms on the floor.
"Matt!" she yelped as his stomach heaved and he gagged again, this time bringing a mouthful of water. Seline rubbed his stomach, feeling it contract as he heaved the third time, this time bringing up a big wave of water. "What's wrong with you? Are you- did you- you were feeling sick the whole time?"
Matthew spat onto the ground, giving a full-body shudder. "Sorry. I just..."
"Is this some kind of flu? Did you eat something bad?" Crisis always brought a calm over her, making her practical. She could feel her mind clearing from trivial concerns, emotions in the backround.
"Not really. My sparrring partner got a really good hit to my head today...I guess I was feeling a little light-headed since then." He blurred his words together a little and he was still that sickly pale.
"Wait, you mean to tell me you are concussed?" She tried to scramble away from his lap, not wanting to add weight to his misery. He was feeling sick and dizzy from a hit to the head and let her blabber on?
He tighetned his hold again, squeezing her against him, hanging his head on her shoulder. "Sorry...can I just...I don't really want to move." He smiled crookedly. "I can't believe I survived climbing up the stairs."
"Matt, you silly fool. You should have said something." She threaded her fingers through his hair, looking for a bump. "Did you heal yourself?"
"A little. Didn't really stop hurting all the way. And my, ehmm, ears are ringing a little." He winced at her touch but didn't pull away.
"Come on, you should get some sleep." His head was basically limp on his neck, barely holding himself up. She figured he could sleep since he healed himself with this shadow. It must have been the symptoms that remained. "You can stay in my room, I can't really help with the stairs like Isaiah can. You will be more comfortable there, okay?" And they would get away from the mess on the floor.
Coaxing Matthew to unwrap himself took another 5 minutes. She held him under the elbow, trying to stabilize him, but they both knew he was too big for her to hold his weight, should he fall. He stumbled the few steps to her bedroom, holding onto the wall and her for support.
He basically collapsed on her favourite pillow, squeezing his eyes in a painful way that cued her in on the light. She closed the curtains on the windows and fetched a wash-basin from the bathroom, then climbed into the double bed with him.
"Hmmmm...Do I have too many minus points for vomiting to get another hug today?" Matthew mumbled sleepily, rolling to his side as she adjusted the covers over him.
"You are such an idiot," she said fondly, wiggling herself under his arm, face against his chest. It was a warm, comfortable position for her too.
"You sure Isaiah won't mind?"
Seline chuckled. "From you, he won't. My guess? He will end up sleeping here today too." She kissed the top of his forehead. "The basin is right next to you. Tell me if you feel sick again. Should I get you a painkiller?"
"Nah. Can't stomach it right now. Just stay."
It warmed something inside her that he wanted her so close, that he might have hugged her the first time for his comfort as well. Or maybe just for her. He was such a marshmellow, it was a shame it only came out when he was feeling sick.
@bellysoupset
#sickfic#whump#emeto#emeto fic#comfort#concussion#I got your request Soup#and needed to write this before I get to that one#cause there will be a connection yay
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if that’s okay i‘d love to get a continuation to this, where the caretaker maybe realises something is wrong? and they can have a talk with the whumpee about it? or some comfort and recovery for the whumpee?
because tumblr won’t let me link stuff on anon, here’s the link: https://www.tumblr.com/whumpshaped/734392975865626624/hello-would-you-write-a-conditionated-whumpee-in
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tw perceived noncon drugging, emeto mention, past trauma, past noncon drugging, conditioned response
Breakfast was uncomfortable and awkward. Caretaker kept trying to say something, only to close their mouth again without a word.
“Are you alright?” they eventually asked, and Whumpee stiffly nodded. “I… I thought I heard you throw up yesterday.”
“That’s odd,” they said curtly.
“You… didn’t?”
“No.”
Caretaker kept poking at their scrambled eggs, biting their lower lip like they were trying to punish themself for speaking up in the first place. And yet, they couldn’t help it.
“If the food is bad…”
“It’s not.”
Whumpee took a big bite of their breakfast sandwich to prove it, and Caretaker sighed.
“Look, I– I get that it can be embarrassing… I just wanna know what’s going on. I can help you if you’re sick.”
“I’m fine.”
Caretaker averted their eyes, going back to pushing pieces of egg around. Whumpee couldn’t stand how troubled and heartbroken they looked.
“Did you put something in my food yesterday?” they blurted out. “At dinner? Or was it the drink?”
“Huh?” Caretaker’s eyes snapped up to meet theirs, full of confusion and concern. “So it was the food. Was the taste off? Mine tasted fine, I didn’t realise–”
“I said, did you put something in my food yesterday?” they repeated, more emphatic this time. Demanding, almost. They had a special distaste for people dancing around their questions ever since they’d met Whumper.
“No,” Caretaker said immediately, still baffled. “I’d never. Do you think I’d do that?”
“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but then you gave me that, that phrase, and then left me alone in the dark–”
“What phrase?”
“You know the phrase!”
Caretaker shook their head slightly, so utterly puzzled that for the first time, Whumpee considered the possibility that they didn’t actually know. “I can avoid it next time if you tell me,” they offered.
“It’s ‘good night’!” Well. That sounded dumber than intended. “When, when it’s said– said like that, I– Whumper kept saying that! They kept saying it whenever they knew I was about to pass out! They kept saying it after drugging me! They’d have these pills, and they’d–”
“Hey, hey, Whumpee…” Caretaker cut in, making them realise they were getting carried away. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna say it again. And I’m definitely not putting anything in your food.”
Whumpee sniffled, trying to avoid a full-blown breakdown as much as possible. “Great,” they forced out. Caretaker gave them a tentative smile.
“No other concerns?” Whumpee shook their head, quickly going back to their breakfast so they wouldn’t have to keep looking at Caretaker. “Alright, then.”
Truthfully… their sandwich was looking a lot safer and tastier now than they’d gotten that off their chest.
#asks#whump#whump drabble#perceived noncon drugging#emeto mention#past trauma#past noncon drugging#conditioned response#recovery fic#comfort
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Mammon's Morning Sickness
MINORS DNI
Dom(ish) top amab gender neutral reader, sub(ish) bottom pregnant trans man Mammon, pregnancy kink, emeto, piss, cunnilingus, mommy kink, daddy kink, demons having animalistic traits (purring, chirping, etc)
Terms used for Mammon: chest, tits, tdick, clit, pussy, cunt
Thank you to @arloheart for the commission!! Such a delight to write (haha. rhyme), thank u very much for the support <3
It's the second day in a row that you've awoken to the sound of Mammon throwing up in the bathroom. You pull yourself from the comfort of your bed, and join him where he is on the floor, hunched over the toilet.
He whimpers and groans when you wrap your arms around his waist, placing gentle touches on his upset stomach. You kiss his shoulder, holding him through it, until his body finally decides it's done.
"I dunno whats the matter with me," he pouts, slumping his full weight against your body. You rub comforting circles into his skin as you think.
"It's not something you ate?"
"'m not Beel," he huffs. You pinch him and he yelps, giving you an accusatory look. "Listen, I swear it's nothin' I ate! I've been eating all the stuff I normally do," he whines.
"No other symptoms?" you ask, feeling his forehead for a fever. Mammon shakes his head,
"Nope," he pauses to consider something, "I mean, shit there's been some kinda weird things." You hum, urging him to continue. Mammon makes himself more comfortable in your lap before continuing, "like okay, I had a really shitty headache a couple've days ago, n' I've been peeing a lot? Plus my periods late, and ugh," he folds his arms in front of his chest, "my tits have been killing me."
You consider this for a moment. None of these seem very strange on their own, but put together...
"Mammon-"
"No fuckin' way," he cuts you off. It seems like you've come to the same conclusion. "No fucking way," he repeats again, his eyes wide. You give him a sheepish look,
"I mean, it wouldn't hurt to do a test, right?" Mammon nods his head,
"Yeah, of course, we gotta-" he rises to his feet quickly, then lets out a little hysterical breathless laugh, "right now, we gotta get one right now." He's grinning from ear to ear, quickly brushing his teeth to remove the taste of any remaining bile.
The two of you, giddy and filled with adrenaline, practically skip to the nearest drugstore. Mammon makes you pay for the pregnancy test, which is fine by you because you notice the way his hands shake as he picks it up.
"I can't wait til we get home," he tells you, yanking you towards the back of the store.
"Do you want me to come in with you?" you ask, and Mammon doesn't even answer, just drags you into the bathroom with him.
He shoves his pants down and sits on the toilet, hastily opening up the package. It takes him a while with his nerves (or excitement. Likely a mix of both), but he's finally able to pee on the pregnancy test.
The next three minutes that pass by feel like hours.
"Um, so," Mammon starts awkwardly, "if it's negative, that just means I'm sick huh?"
"Suppose so," you say, "do you... want it to be negative?"
Mammon chews the inside of his cheek, squirming from the question.
"No, I think. I think I want it t'be positive," he finally says. You smile, leaning down to kiss him sweetly,
"I do too," Mammon smiles, leaning in to kiss you again.
"'kay even if it's negative, we'll make sure it's positive soon," he laughs, a flush working its way to his cheeks. "Has it been long enough?"
You check your phone and nod. Mammon squeezes his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking down.
"Pos-" he laughs, looking up at you with wet eyes and the biggest smile, "positive!!" he squeals, thrusting the test into your hand.
You're able to catch a look at it for a moment, while he yanks up his pants, before Mammon crashes into you, wrapping you into a hug.
"Oh I love you, I love you," he cries, "I'm gonna have a baby, yer baby!"
You kiss him, all the while still holding his piss covered pregnancy stick.
There's a few minutes of tears; happy, excited, coming-off-adrenaline type tears. You hold and kiss one another until there's a knock at the bathroom door, and you're reminded of where you are.
There's a lot to do, a lot to say, but for now the two of you rush back, holding hands and giggling all the way back to the House of Lamentation.
-
Two weeks pass and you're still waking up to Mammon's morning sickness.
"Morning sweetheart," you greet him, joining him on the floor as you often do. Mammon groans, lifting his head from out of the toilet.
"Did I wake ya?" he asks sadly. You hum, rubbing his hip with one hand, and his little baby bump with the other.
"No," he breathes a sigh of relief, and then dry heaves, "how long have you been up?" you ask.
It takes Mammon a moment to answer, a wave of nausea causing him to hold his mouth open, drool dripping from his lips as he waits for something to come up. Nothing happens and he swallows, then says,
"Dunno, like half hour maybe?" your heart aches from how long he's been alone. "God I had these crazy dreams, ya wouldn't believe, 'm gonna have t'tell you about 'em," he gags, then heaves again. You figure he'll have to tell you about his dreams when he isn't being cut off by his nausea.
You're nearly certain it won't happen, but it does, suddenly. Mammon manages to throw up as you rub his clenching stomach, quietly savoring the soft feel of his skin under your fingers. Your cock has started to fill inside your sleep pants, but you pay it no mind in favor of comforting him.
"Ugh," he moans when he's done. "I think that was the last of it," he says, but the two of you stay in front of the toilet for a good couple of minutes to make sure.
"Oh no," Mammon says after a moment, and you think that means he's going to throw up again. It's only when you hear the sound of liquid hitting the tiled floor that you look down. He's wetting himself, unable to make it to the toilet even though it's right in front of him.
"Aw baby," you coo, rubbing his bladder gently. "There you go, let it all out, this is completely natural," which is true, because the new weight of the baby has been pressing against his bladder a lot these days.
"'kay," he breathes, "feels good." You groan, letting your hand drift from his belly to his pussy. Mammon whimpers, leaning back into you.
Touching him through his wet— getting even more wet with each second— pajama pants, you press your thumb against his clit. Feeling his stream through the fabric, you listen to the way that Mammon's breath hitches. Your cock twitches as you rub circles around his hardening tdick.
Eventually he stops pissing, and the two of you are left sitting in a puddle on the bathroom floor while Mammon writhes, purrs, and moans from your touches.
"Wait, wait," he gasps. You stop your touches, "my knees hurt," he whines, and as soon as he says it, you feel a numbness in your legs.
"We can move this to the bed," you mummer seductively. Mammon whines,
"Yes, please," and with that the two of you rise to your feet. Mammon peels off his drenched pants, leaving them in the puddle to deal with later. You're both far too needy and desperate to be bothered with it now.
With sticky legs, Mammon scurries to your bed, lying himself down on his back, spreading his legs for you.
"You sure your stomach's alright?" you have half the mind to ask as you settle in the space he's made for you. Mammon huffs,
"Yeah 'm fine," he then gives you a smug look, "you'd like it even if I did get sick on yer bed anyways," and fuck, you can't argue with that.
Instead, you lean down to kiss his belly. Mammon lets out a noise similar to a squawk in surprise, like he hadn't expected you to kiss him there, like you haven't already kissed his growing belly a million times since he started to show.
Looking up you can see him staring down at you with anticipation and giddiness, his bottom lip trapped between his little fangs. You don't want to tease him much, but you can't resist the urge to lay at least twenty or so more kisses along his brown skin.
And of course, you have to give his tits a little attention too. They've been getting more full, and more sore with each passing day. You wrap your lips around his nipple and suck. Mammon cries out, because the sensation boarders perfectly on painful and relieving. You cannot wait for the day he starts leaking milk. He lets you suck and play with his tits for a while, getting so worked up over how sensitive they are.
"Ungh, please?" he whimpers eventually. You look up at him, cocking an eyebrow. Mammon flushes, then brings a hand to his mouth, and chews on the skin at the tip of his finger for a second. "Please, can ya eat me out already? Please?" he finally asks outright.
Smiling, you kiss your way from his chest, to his belly, down to his pussy. Mammon continues to chew on his finger, a clear sign that he's excited about what's to come. You kiss his inner thighs before giving his cunt any attention. His skin is sticky from his drying piss, and you're unable to stop yourself from licking the taste of it between kisses.
Above you, Mammon makes an assortment of noises, from chittering and chirping to little high pitched and breathy moans. When you eventually reach his cunt and lick between his lips, Mammon lets out a garbled pronunciation of your name.
"Yes, yeah, please, more?" he babbles, and fuck he's so wet you can't help but dive in. As you bury your face in his cunt, lapping at his hole and sucking on his clit, Mammon melts into the bed.
His legs wrap around you, his thighs clenching against the sides of your head.
"Feels good, you're so-oh good at this, it ain't fair," he whines. Instead of pulling your head away from his cunt to laugh at his comment, you purposefully scrape your teeth against his tdick.
Mammon hiccups, his legs squeezing tightly around your head, pushing your face further against his pussy.
"Yes, do that again, mommy please, gonna make me— ooh— cum, I'm gonna cu-uh!" you cut him off by again grazing your teeth lightly against him.
With a choked moan Mammon cums from your mouth. You happily lick up the slick that gushes from his pussy, practically devouring him.
Your lips find his clit again, and you suck on it, relentless even as overstimulated whimpers fall from his lips.
"Hurts," he moans, twitching in your mouth, "mama, I want yer cock."
His begging reminds you of how uncomfortably hard you are. Finally pulling away, you lick your lips, then pull back so you can get a good look at Mammon.
"Fuck, look at you," Mammon flusters under your gaze, "aw no need to get shy daddy," you coo, leaning down to kiss him. He kisses back wrapping his arms around your neck to keep you there.
"I really want ya," he pulls away from the kiss just enough to say. You groan and kiss him again before pulling back.
"Just have to get you opened up darling," you explain when he whines at the loss of your touch. He pouts as you strip your pants off and find the lube. That pout quickly dissipates when you lube your fingers and press them against his hole.
"Still feeling okay daddy?" you ask, pushing two fingers into his slick cunt. Mammon clenches around your fingers,
"Good," he breathes, "feelin' good."
You hum, smiling to yourself as you make quick work of stretching him open for your cock.
Mammon squirms a bit under your touch, but he's completely relaxed, opening up nicely for you.
"I'm ready," he whines, "c'mon n' fuck me mommy," he gasps. You curl your fingers and he chokes out a rushed, "please, please."
"That's better, daddy," you purr, and Mammon trills happily. You pull your fingers out of him slowly and gently, and then fumble for the lube.
Quickly slicking your cock with it, you hiss at the rush of pleasure that hits you as you touch yourself. In turn, Mammon whimpers, staring you down, unblinking, with his bright gold eyes.
He's already made it very clear that he's ready for you, so rather than ask him if he's feeling okay, you hold his thighs and align your cock with his pussy.
"Yes," he whispers softly when he feels your tip press into him, maybe speaking more to himself than he is to you.
Mammon squeezes and flutters around your cock as you slide into him, sighing contently, and purring up a storm.
"Oh," he gasps, when you're finally balls deep inside of him.
A question of whether or not he's okay is on the tip of your tongue, but you can't get it out before you feel a hot liquid splash against your skin.
"Oh," you muse, watching as Mammon wets himself on your cock. "Oh daddy, baby, Mammon," you moan, impulsively shallowly thrusting into him. "Was it too much? Too much in your belly, pushing against your bladder?"
He nods erratically, "yeah, ungh," you reach down to let your fingers be drenched in his piss, "fuck."
Mammon opens his mouth, inviting you to push your fingers into his mouth. He moans at the taste of his own piss, squeezing tightly around you.
You start fucking him in earnest, the two of you so worked up by him pissing all over your cock that neither one of you pay any mind to the puddle soaking into the sheets beneath you.
Mammon gurgles and drools around your fingers, clenching his soaked pussy tightly around you as you fuck him nice and deep.
Your arousal has clouded your brain, and all you can think about is how lucky you are to have Mammon under you like this. He looks so good, all wet and needy and belly swollen with your child. In the haze of your lust, the pace you've set is unrelenting, but Mammon takes it all and more, rolling his eyes back in ecstasy as you re-angle your hips and brush against his walls in a way that has him moaning and squealing around your fingers.
If you weren't chasing your own pleasure, or only thinking about how good you want to make him feel, you might have realized just how far into Mammon's mouth your fingers had sunk. You may have pulled back, and let him suck on your tongue if he wanted his mouth full.
Instead, your fingers slip, and suddenly Mammon's gagging, yanking your fingers from his mouth, and twisting so he can heave, then puke over the side of the bed.
You stare, in awe, faintly registering just how wet and tight Mammon got as he vomited.
"Fuck," you whisper as he pauses for a moment (making sure nothing else will come up), before laying back down on his back, sinking into the plush pillows under him.
"Are you okay?" you finally find the words that have been on the tip of your tongue. Mammon lets out a groan, shimmying his hips around at an attempt to feel you moving inside of him again. "Mammon, babe, I'm so sorry, are you—"
"Swear t'fuckin' christ, if you don't keep fuckin' me I'm gonna kill ya," he whines, his voice rough and scratchy. You wait a moment, checking for any little sign that he wouldn't be okay to continue. Upon finding none, you start moving your hips again.
He moans happily as your hips find the rhythm they'd set earlier, and before you know it, he's back to purring.
Your hands clutch at his thighs first, holding him open so you can look at your cock stretching and fucking his cunt. They wander, from his soft thighs, to his hips, and then finally you're rubbing his hard clit.
"Ungh-yes, yes thank you mommy," he gasps, twitching around your cock. "Close, close, gonna cum— please, can I?" you groan, feeling yourself getting close to climax as well.
"Yeah daddy," you lean down, kissing his collarbone affectionately, "hah, cum for me, baby," Mammon lets out a high keen, clinging to your skin, his nails digging into your skin, "make my cock even more messy."
And that's all it takes. With a squeal of your name, he cums, letting out hot, staccato breaths as you fuck him through it. You're close, but it's not until Mammon starts to wind down, nuzzling his face between your shoulder and neck and chirping happily, that your orgasm crashes over you.
"Mammon," you groan, fucking him full of your cum. Mammon kisses all over your skin as your climax wracks itself through your body, petting your skin and clinging to you tightly.
Once you come down from your high, you pull out slowly, and fall next to Mammon. He nuzzles himself into you, purring when you wrap your arms around him, and hold him close.
"Love ya," he murmurs softly.
"I love you too," you say, kissing the top of his head.
You lay there for a while, and you know Mammon could fall asleep like this— despite being absolutely covered in filth— so you're the one who's gotta take the lead here. You tap his hip gently,
"C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up."
His legs are wobbly and weak, but the two of you make it to the bathroom, where you plan to absolutely smother Mammon with care. As soon as you deal with the mess you left there earlier.
-
"When is this supposed to end?" Mammon whines, his head buried in the toilet as he makes his way through another bout of morning sickness.
"Somewhere between the 2nd and 3rd trimester," you answer. In response, Mammon groans. "Hey," you start, pinching his belly playfully, "y'know I'm gonna make you feel better after this, right daddy?" He lifts his head, giving you a wicked smile,
"I can't wait."
#lalala so beautiful and wonderful to write for mammon again. my wife who i have missed so much while away at war#spice#tw emetophobia#cw emetophobia#emeto#p/iss#cw mommy kink#cw daddy kink
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Grumpy alphas need lots of love
Fandom: Stray Kids
Alphas: Chan, Minho, Jeongin
Beta: Seungmin
Omegas: Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix
When Jisung woke up, the bitter scent of anger hung in the air, making the rapper afraid of leaving his dorm room. He had never witnessed Chan being that angry and wondered what may have caused the alpha's mood to drop like that but didn't dare to go and find out.
As time passed, the pack learned that Chan wasn't the only alpha, who tended to get grumpy when sick.
OT8, emeto, omegaverse, pack dynamics
~28k words
No one’s POV.:
Jisung had slept in quite late, taking advantage of their rare day off, but as soon as he opened his bedroom door to go and grab a late breakfast, he froze. A bitter scent hung in the air, obviously alpha but it smelled really intimidating and negative, so the rapper barely dared to leave his room. Jisung thought that it might have some faint similarities to Chan’s scent but considering the oldest was the most patient alpha he knew and rarely ever got angry, this was certainly a first. Sure, he had witnessed the Aussie stressed, upset and frustrated before but never to this extend. Closing the door as quietly as he could, Jisung sat back down on his bed and pulled out his phone to text Changbin. A few moments after he had sent the text, there was the lightest of knocks at his bedroom door before the older rapper slipped into the room. “Good morning”, Changbin smiled, taking a seat next to his dongsaeng, “You don’t have to hide. Chan-hyung is in his room.” – “Do you know what’s up with him? He smells scary”, Jisung frowned, shuddering. The other just shrugged, admitting: “I only saw him for a few minutes this morning, when I ate breakfast. He was a little grumpy and only gave me a curt nod. We didn’t exchange a single word. It was weird.”
Weird was an understatement. This was not the Chan either of them knew, the calm and collected leader, who’d always put on a smile in order to reassure his dongsaengs, no matter how tired he was. All they knew was that the alpha smelled very… wrong. Hyunjin apparently had come to the same conclusion, fleeing to the other dorm to have breakfast with the rest of the group and to avoid the odd situation at his own dorm. None of them had any idea, how bad of a night their pack-alpha had had. Chan had already been nursing a headache throughout the previous day but it hadn’t been much more than a nuisance and the thought of sleeping in on their day off had helped him power through the day. When the alpha finally shut off his computer though, he had to realize that it was already far later than he had thought. Not like he would’ve been able to leave earlier, needing to finish editing the track he had been working on but he wanted his bed even more now. Pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes, Chan scrubbed at them to try and force them to stay open long enough to get back to his dorm. The rest of the pack was already fast asleep when Chan clumsily kicked off his shoes and stumbled to his room, collapsing on his bed without even bothering to change his clothes. Now that his task of getting home was completed, he was out instantly.
Maybe Chan should’ve changed his clothes, he realized when he woke up barely an hour later, disoriented and incredibly sore. His head felt so heavy he struggled to lift it off the mattress but the waistband of his jeans dug uncomfortably into his tummy, making the alpha groan in discomfort. For a few minutes he just lay there, contemplating what was worse, moving or staying in his uncomfortable clothes. He eventually had to accept that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep if he didn’t put on something comfy, so huffing in frustration, Chan forced himself up against the heaviness weighing him down. The alpha’s limbs were leaden and his head pounded, making him question his decision to get up. Stumbling dizzily, Chan caught himself on the handle of his closet door and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. Already drained, he plopped down on the edge of his bed and sluggishly pulled off his jeans, replacing them with the sweatpants before crawling under the blanket and going right back to sleep.
The next time the leader woke up, his head pounded mercilessly, making him groan. Massaging his temples, Chan sat up and glanced at the clock. It was still pretty early and considering how late he had gone to bed, there was no way he’d get up this early on a day off. Figuring he might catch a few more hours of sleep if he took some painkillers, the Aussie dragged himself out of bed again. The way to the bathroom seemed endless but he managed and also collected a water bottle and protein bar from the kitchen. His stomach already felt funny and he didn’t want to cause himself more pain than necessary by taking the pills on an empty stomach. As Chan sat down on his bed again, he had to take a moment to breathe. He had started to feel a little lightheaded on his way back to his room and was waiting for the sensation to disappear. Clumsily fiddling with the protein bar, he eventually managed to rip open the packaging and despite having close to no appetite, he forced himself to take a big bite. The faster he ate, the faster it’d be over. When Chan tried to swallow the sticky substance, he choked, a sharp pain scraping his throat as he coughed. His hand trembled and he barely managed to uncap the water bottle but was eventually able to rinse down his protein bar. No, he had no desire to finish the rest of the bar, eyeing it in distaste before placing it on his bedside table. His throat still stung as he downed his pills and laid back down.
Despite his best efforts, Chan didn’t manage to go back to sleep and just lay there, taking in the mess that was his body. By now, he was pretty sure that he was running a fever. At least, that would explain the headache, dizziness and muscle aches. The Aussie couldn’t help but grow upset. They had a day off and he had made plans to spend it with his group. With how busy all of them had been, they had only seen each other while working but he hadn’t had any opportunity to give his dongsaengs the snuggles they usually craved. Chan couldn’t even remember when he had last scented his omegas, feeling like the worst pack-alpha for neglecting his mates like that. A low growl rumbled in the alpha’s chest, making him cough. Weakly propping himself up on his elbow, he tried to catch his breath and winced. His throat burned and his head pounded when he sat up to have a few sips of water.
Chan set the water bottle back down with a little more force than would’ve been necessary but he wasn’t only upset anymore, he was downright mad. How could his body betray him like this when he just wanted to spend a nice and cozy day looking after his pack members and catching up on quality time with the boys? Now, while the others would most likely end up in a huge cuddlepile in one of the living rooms to catch up on comfortable pack-time, Chan would have to keep his distance, if he didn’t want to get any of his dongsaengs sick. The longer the alpha lay there, stewing in his frustration, the angrier he became. Realizing his mood would only keep getting worse if he allowed himself to dwell on his thoughts, Chan sighed and got out of bed. He wasn’t hungry but maybe he could make himself some tea. It might help his throat some and even if it didn’t, he’d have a task to focus on for a little while.
After accomplishing his mission of making tea, Chan turned to find Changbin grabbing himself breakfast. With his throat still on fire, the older decided against using it and only nodded as a greeting before taking his tea and fleeing back to his room. He couldn’t have his friend see him drink tea because it would immediately give away that something wasn’t right. Chan didn’t even know why he was trying to hide how bad he felt. He’d have to tell his group eventually, otherwise they’d get too close and too touchy and end up catching whatever he had managed to come down with or they’d feel hurt by him avoiding their company, which would be just as bad. As the leader waited for his tea to cool to drinking temperature, he allowed a few silent tears to fall, not realizing how that zapped even more energy from him. Before he could even have a single sip of his tea, he had cried himself to sleep.
Changbin had finally managed to coax Jisung out of his room and convinced the younger omega to have breakfast. While Jisung still felt a little intimidated, Changbin was mainly worried. Chan didn’t smell right in the slightest and his behavior this morning was odd too, the rapper knew he should check on his hyung. First, he’d keep Jisung company though. He could tell the younger still felt on edge and he could totally understand why, the tension still thick in the air. Before Jisung had finished his breakfast though, their front door opened quietly. Changbin and Jisung both watched curiously as Felix slowly peeked into their dorm, frowning: “Hyunjin was right, it smells scary here.” – “Good morning, Lixxie”, Changbin chuckled opening his arms for his dongsaeng. The dancer smiled, running up to his hyung to get his good-morning-hug. “Is everything alright with Channie-hyung?”, the Aussie asked carefully, sniffing the air again. While Jisung anxiously chewed on his bottom lip, wondering the same thing, Changbin offered: “If you keep Sungie company, so he doesn’t have to eat alone, I’ll go and check on him.” – “Aren’t you scared?”, Jisung worried, studying his hyung. The older shook his head, humming: “It’s Chan. He’s not scary and he has never given us any reason to be scared of him, hm? He’s probably just upset about something, so I’ll go and see if it’s something we can fix and if not, we’ll just give him lots of hugs till he’s not upset anymore.” – “Hugs make everything better”, Felix agreed, taking a seat next to Jisung, while Changbin got up to check on their pack-alpha.
Chan dazedly lifted his head when he heard his bedroom door open. He had always been a light sleeper but he recognized the scent and knew there was no threat, so he just dropped his head back onto the pillow as Changbin approached him. “Good morning, hyung”, the rapper hummed as he took a seat on the edge of Chan’s bed, “Though, today isn’t really a good morning, is it?” Keeping his eyes closed, the leader tiredly shook his head and held back a wave of fresh tears. The room was still pretty dim, so Changbin couldn’t see the alpha’s face properly but from his behavior, he could tell the older was exhausted. Laying down alongside Chan, the rapper rested his forehead against the other’s shoulder and asked: “What’s wrong, hyung? You smell really angry and I know you’re not someone to get angry easily.”
Not wanting to start crying again, Chan took a shuddering breath. He was grateful that Changbin had laid down with him, not liking it when others looked down on him when he was already feeling helpless. “Are you okay? You feel pretty warm to me”, the omega hummed softly, when it didn’t seem like his hyung would say anything any time soon. Pulling away from Chan’s arm, Changbin reached up to feel the leader’s cheek instead. It wasn’t only damp with tears but also feverish. Gently drying the tears with the cuff of his sleeve, the rapper guessed: “You’re sick, aren’t you?” Chan nodded defeatedly. “I wanted to spend our day off finally having some quality time with the pack”, the alpha rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, “Now I can’t because if I do, everyone else will catch it too.” Comfortably laying back down, Changbin didn’t seem all too concerned about that and only asked: “Let’s work with what we’ve got for now. How long have you felt sick?” – “Had a bit of a headache yesterday but last night it really hit me like a train”,Chan groaned, covering his face with his arm, successfully hiding the fresh tears of frustration. Changbin could tell though and calmly hugged the alpha’s waist, whispering: “You think it might be the flu?” Painfully clearing his throat, the older nodded and weakly sat up to cough.
“Should we go to the living room? You can lay down on the couch and maybe we can watch some movies with the others”, Changbin offered, handing the other his water bottle. After forcing down a few sips, Chan frowned: “I really don’t wanna get anyone sick *sniff* besides, I’m no fun right now.” – “Hyung, you’re always with us, no matter how little fun we might be. Do you really think we only appreciate you when you’re fun and upbeat?”, the omega sighed, “We care about you and if you’re afraid about contagion, we can keep the skinship to a minimum but we missed spending time with you. Outside of work I mean and you don’t deserve to be lonely, while already being sick. I highly doubt any other us would complain about having a quiet day and we can take things as slow as we need to, hm?” The only response he got was a hoarse sob, that Chan had desperately tried to muffle against the sleeve of his hoodie. The alpha had so desperately tried to stay somewhat put together but his mate’s words had struck his heart making his already cracking façade crumble completely. Changbin didn’t mind though, comfortingly rubbing his hyung’s back. He knew how strong Chan always had to be for them. The alpha deserved a break from being strong too and the rapper wouldn’t dare judge him for having his weak moments.
“Lixxie is here by the way”, Changbin smiled, “He got worried that you might be upset when Hyunjin told him you smelled scary.” – “I-I smell scary?”, Chan stammered worriedly. He couldn’t imagine having made his dongsaengs feel afraid of him. “Not necessarily scary…”, the omega said slowly, searching for the right words, “A teeny-tiny bit intimidating maybe. Like a grumpy alpha…. Come on, let’s show them you’re not angry.” Though Chan was still hesitant, he let Changbin pull him out of bed. Swaying for a moment, the leader clung to his friend’s broad shoulders as the younger steadied him, cooing: “We can take it as slow as you need, yeah? You tell me when you feel ready to move.” After Chan took a few deep breaths, the dark spots faded and he gave a tentative nod, linking his arm with Changbin’s. It took them a while to make the short walk from the alpha’s bedroom to the living room but they were in no rush.
Felix’ head instantly shot up when he heard the shuffling footsteps coming down the hallway. “Hyung!”, the omega gasped, shocked at their alpha’s rough appearance. Chan winced as the other’s volume aggravated his headache. Forcing a smile for his dongsaeng, the leader rasped: “G’morning Lixxie, hey Sung.” – “Wow, you sound awful”, Jisung commented nervously, “What happened to you?” – “’M sick”, Chan admitted, lowering his head in shame. By now, Felix had made his way over to them and wrapped his arms around the alpha’s waist. The oldest wanted to tell him no, tell him to keep his distance but he couldn’t. For one, his legs felt even weaker now that he had been on his feet for a while, so having a second member supporting his weight was highly appreciated. And two, he couldn’t resist his Aussie brother. Felix’ touch instantly broke down the walls the alpha had built, causing a tear to spill from his eye.
Noticing how Chan’s legs started to tremble from the strain, Changbin guided them to the couch, where the older weakly collapsed into the cushions and groaned when the impact sent shockwaves of pain through his skull. The alpha felt cold, small hands on his flushed cheeks as Felix brushed away the tear and felt for a fever, surprised by just how bad his hyung was burning. “Your fever’s pretty high”, the omega cooed, “Might explain why you smell so weird. On the other hand, you smelled angry, not as much anymore but still…. Are you mad, Channie-hyung?” Drawing in a shaky breath past his chapped lips, Chan bit down on his bottom lip to hold back more tears and gave a tentative nod. Felix affectionately stroked the alpha’s cheek to soothe him and hummed: “You wanna tell us why or who you’re angry with or should we drop the topic?” – “M-My body”, Chan mumbled barely audibly, “’m angry at my body.”Taking a seat next to the leader, Felix wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders and nuzzled his face against his mate’s collarbone. The omega purred softly as he scented Chan, making his hyung’s heart go all mushy, the anger dissipating quickly.
“You didn’t have breakfast yet, did you?”, Changbin asked, hesitant to interrupt his friends’ sweet moment. Felix sat back up, giving his hyung a worried look. Shaking his head, Chan sniffled: “Tried a protein bar a few hours ago but it hurt my throat and my tummy doesn’t feel good anyway, so….” – “Do you want to try eating again or…?”, the rapper offered but Chan shook his head. Remembering how intimidated he had felt that moment, Jisung snuck out of the dorm to find Hyunjin and explain what was really going on at their dorm. When the two made their way back to their dorm, the rest of their pack had decided to tag along as well. It was always Chan watching out for and protecting them, so now they would be there to comfort and care for him. Minho had to suppress a growl when the other alpha’s angry pheromones hit him the moment he stepped foot into his friends’ dorm. Sometimes, the dancer really hated his alpha instincts reacting so strongly and defensively even when it came to Chan and Jeongin, the other two alphas in their pack. On the other hand, those instincts would keep his dongsaengs save, so he didn’t feel like he had a right to complain, and he knew that Chan and Jeongin sometimes struggled with the same things, so lots of communication and bonding time helped the pack function smoothly.
“Hey”, Minho smiled sadly, as he crouched in front of his only hyung. Chan’s glossy eyes met his and Minho could see the tension on the other’s chest melt away. For Chan it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest, the moment he saw Minho there. He knew he wouldn’t be able to protect his dongsaengs right now, should he need to, so knowing the other was there to protect their pack and keep everyone safe allowed the oldest to give in to his body’s demands for rest. Closing his eyes, Chan breathed: “Hi.”– “Sungie told us”, Minho informed softly, watching the leader lay down as soon as Felix got off the couch, “What do you think you managed to come down with?” – “Flu probably”, the older hummed lowly, painfully clearing his throat, “Hit really suddenly during the night.” Minho nodded in acknowledgement, carding his fingers through his hyung’s messy curls. “Do you guys have enough medicine here or should I check our dorm?”, the dancer offered, looking up at Changbin and Hyunjin. The rapper had just returned from the bathroom and wordlessly held up two boxes of medicine, stating: “We have painkillers, fever-reducers and nausea medicine. I don’t know if we need cough syrup but if so, we don’t have any.” – “Okay, I’ll check our dorm later but for now, it sounds more like a sore throat than a cough, right?”, Minho accepted, shooting Chan a questioning look to which the older nodded, too tired to force himself to speak.
Just when Chan was about to drift off, Hyunjin gently nudged him, smiling: “We made you some tea, hyung.” – “Thanks”, the alpha whispered, glad that his dongsaeng felt reassured enough to be back in his presence again. Thinking that he had scared his mates away, had broken Chan’s heart. The dorm soon grew quieter as the leader drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn’t really manage to sleep though, it felt more like floating half-there and half-gone. When Chan sat up to regain his orientation, he realized how his dongsaengs had dispersed, only Jeongin sitting in a beanbag close to the couch. The maknae noticed his hyung’s confused look and got up to sit next to the other. “Where’s everyone?”, Chan frowned, always worried when one of his mates was unaccounted for. Linking his fingers with Chan’s, Jeongin ran his thumb in circles over the back of the other’s hand and hummed: “Minho-hyung went over to his dorm to see if they have more supplies, we might need to take care of you. Seungmin’s making soup for whenever you feel ready to stomach anything.” The beta gave a small wave when Chan glanced towards the kitchen, making the oldest smile. “I know that Hyunjinnie-hyung, Jisung-hyung and Felix wanted to gather some nesting supplies, so they can make the living room all cozy for movie marathons and what not. Changbin-hyung’s probably supervising them”, Jeongin smiled, thinking about the amazing large nests the omegas had built on previous occasions. The maknae loved when the entire pack would get cozy in one of those nests for some quality-cuddle-time, too bad he never managed to built a nest. Felix had once tried to teach him but soon had to accept that it simply wasn’t in his dongsaeng’s blood. That didn’t mean that Jeongin wouldn’t find one of his omega-hyungs to help him arrange his bed to somewhat resemble a nest. Sometimes that was exactly when the youngest needed to fall asleep, not caring whether an alpha was supposed to feel that way or not.
Chan eventually dozed off with his head on Jeongin’s shoulder, while the younger gently ran his fingers through his mate’s sweaty curls. He didn’t even hear the rest of the pack return, the omegas dumping large heaps of pillows and blankets onto the living room carpet. Minho and Changbin carried the coffee table into a corner, so their dongsaengs would have enough space for their nest and could get to work right away. Minho had collected a bottle of cough syrup and a bag of cough drops from their dorm, along with two bottles of sports drink in case Chan’s stomach was still bothering him later. For now, the oldest luckily managed to sleep and Jeongin sat patiently scrolling through social media afraid he’d wake his hyung if he moved the slightest bit.
The next time Chan opened his eyes, it was to a cold sensation on his face. “You’re okay, just go back to sleep”, Changbin whispered. He had helped Jeongin shift the leader into a flat position, allowing their youngest to use the bathroom. On his way back, Jeongin had brought a cold washcloth, that Changbin gently dabbed against Chan’s burning skin before draping it across his forehead. The older sighed in content as the cold cloth soothed his headache. When Changbin pulled away, the alpha grabbed his wrist, rasping: “Did everyone have breakfast?” He was afraid his dongsaengs might forget about their own needs because he had messed up daily routines. “All of us had breakfast, hyung”, the rapper hummed crouching down to eye level, “The kids are all taken care of and Seungmin finished the soup a little while ago, so if you feel like having a late breakfast let us know, yeah?” – “I-I think I could try”, Chan contemplated, “Not really hungry but I could do with another dose of painkillers.” Changbin nodded, brushing the backs of his fingers against the other’s flushed cheek, commenting: “Not surprising, your fever hasn’t improved at all. I’ll go and get you a bowl of soup.”
Sitting up was a struggle but Chan had eventually pushed his sore body up and leant back against the cushions. He sniffled as the change of position made the pressure in his sinuses shift. Seeing their pack alpha was awake, Hyunjin joined the older and took a seat next to him on the couch. The dancer patted Chan’s back when the oldest choked on a held-back cough. With his throat burning, Chan leant his elbows on his knees, desperately gulping in air as he continued choking. Hyunjin slipped his arm across the alpha’s chest when the older was catching his breath but swayed. Gently pulling Chan back to rest against the cough cushions, the younger rushed to fetch his hyung some water. “Thanks”, the Aussie breathed, when Hyunjin handed him the glass. With Chan’s hands trembling badly, the omega needed to support the bottom of the glass, afraid the leader’s grasp would slip. The cool liquid soothed Chan’s abused throat a little and he closed his eyes to treasure the feeling, only opening them again when he felt the couch dip next to him.
Changbin had returned with soup but glancing at the alpha’s hands, decided against handing it to his hyung. Offering the spoon to Chan, the rapper smiled: “I’ll hold the bowl for you, just try to eat as much as you can. Your body needs the energy to fight this flu.” Giving a tired nod, the leader accepted the spoon and shakily lifted it to his lips. His stomach growled but he couldn’t tell whether it was hunger or if the organ disapproved of him eating. Chan managed to force down half of the soup and didn’t even spill any, despite almost dropping the spoon once. Somehow, the small amount sat heavily in his stomach, making him feel uncomfortably bloated. “Done?”, Changbin asked softly, when the alpha grimaced. Nodding, Chan slipped his hand under his hoodie and palmed at his tummy to try and soothe it. Hyunjin seemed to notice as he handed the older two pills, worrying: “Your tummy not happy?” Quickly downing the pills, Chan shook his head and tried to hold back a queasy hiccup. “Don’t really wan’ anything in me right now but everything hurts, so…”, the alpha muttered, drawing his legs up to his chest.
With his head resting on his knees and eyes closed, Chan didn’t see how Hyunjin left and returned with a bucket not much later. He placed the bucket next to the couch, in case Chan’s stomach wouldn’t calm down. Feeling his stomach in his throat, the oldest didn’t dare to lay back down, so Jisung traded places with Hyunjin and gently traced shapes on his mate’s back. Chan released a breath, he didn’t even know he was holding, his muscles relaxing under the rapper’s affectionate touch.
“The others were wondering if you wanted to have a movie marathon”, Jisung hummed, glancing at his omega friends working hard to make the perfect nest for them. Blearily picking up his head, Chan sniffled: “I dunno if I can actually watch it ‘cause my eyes an’ head hurt but…. Think the background noise would be comfy.”Playing with the hair at the nape of the alpha’s neck, Jisung agreed: “Your eyes look really tired and irritated. Aww, hyung, you really look like you need cuddles.” That statement caused Chan to break into tears, Felix instantly rushing over when he heard the hoarse sobs. “We can’t cu-cuddle”,the pack-alpha choked out, “I don’t want- …want you guys to feel this shitty.” Cuddling up to Chan’s side, Felix held back his own tears and whined: “We’ve been working together throughout the past week and interacted with the same people. No matter who you might have caught this from, we were probably already exposed.” – “True”, Jisung supported, “Besides, you never worry about your own safety when one of us is sick. You cuddle us anyway and we will cuddle you anyway.” Chan only cried harder at that. He knew he should keep his mates safe, should tell them not to, but he couldn’t. Everything hurt and his emotions were all over the place. He was really craving some cuddles.
Their nest was almost finished and Jisung went to help Changbin and Hyunjin make a few last adjustments, while Felix calmly scented Chan’s arm. Jeongin sat close to the omegas, doing his best to memorize how the nest came together. Minho and Seungmin had started preparing hot chocolate for everyone, also making another cup of tea for Chan as they figured he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything sugary right now. The beta was carefully transferring the drinks into mugs, while Minho went to check on the two Aussie’s. Chan’s tears had slowed but he looked awful, eyes glossy and swollen. His unusually pale face splotchy and lips chapped. Sweat was beading on his forehead, so Minho offered: “Hey, you wanna go and wash up, maybe change into some less sweaty clothes? You don’t look like you could rest comfortable like this.” – “Too tired, ‘s too difficult”, the oldest slurred, scrubbing at his face. “Hey, don’t do that”, the dancer frowned, catching Chan’s wrists, “I’ll go and fetch you a fresh hoodie, just so you can feel a little less sticky, or would you prefer a t-shirt?” – “Hoodie please. ‘s kinda cold”, Chan replied with a shudder, hugging himself the moment Minho released his wrists.
Seungmin quietly gathered the rest of the pack and handed out the hot chocolate, when Minho returned with a hoodie for Chan. The leader struggled to pull his sticky hoodie over his head, so Felix helped him tug it off. Lifting his arms, caused Chan’s stomach to cramp up and make him wince. The two dancers could easily hear the angry gurgle, as their mate fought the urge to curl up. Minho quickly picked up the discarded washcloth and wiped his hyung’s chest and shoulders with it, so he could at least feel somewhat refreshed but get it over with as fast as possible as to not torture him for longer than necessary. Goosebumps spread on Chan’s skin and he was grateful when Minho guided his arms into the sleeves and smoothed the dry hoodie down his back to make sure his skin was covered properly. The oldest hummed in content, finally feeling warm again as he pulled the cuffs of his sleeves to cover his hands.
“You wanna cuddle in our nest?”, Hyunjin asked softly, studying the alpha’s tense expression. With the nausea rising, Chan bit his lip and shook his head. Moving wouldn’t be a good idea right now. As the pack calmly settled around him, they asked him what movie he’d like to start with but Chan rasped: “I’ll hopefully fall asleep anyway, so you guys choose.” – “Let’s pick a Disney movie. You like those, don’t you?”, Changbin offered, picking up one of the blankets that weren’t essential to their nest. The rapper scented it before passing it on to Jeongin, who sat closest to him and did the same. Once everyone had scented it, Minho draped it around Chan’s shoulders, the leader instantly relaxing. Enveloped in his pack’s scents, Chan felt so safe and at ease, he couldn’t help but grow drowsy again. The scents also helped dull the nausea a little, so he eventually dared to lean into Minho’s side, the dancer stroking his hair to lull him to sleep. Chan still witnessed the first twenty minutes of ‘Finding Dori’ before nodding off.
Minho tore his eyes away from the screen when he felt Chan move next to him. The leader struggled to his feet, earning a questioning look from Minho. “Bathroom”, Chan whispered, surprisingly sounding much calmer than he felt as he pulled the blanket around his shoulders like a cape. Minho contemplated following his hyung to make sure he didn’t fall over on the way there, seeing how the older staggered and caught himself against the wall. In the end, the dancer decided against it. He was an alpha too and could imagine Chan not wanting to have his independence undermined. Instead, he sat up just a little straighter, ready to help the leader back to the couch once he was done. When ten minutes had passed and Minho still hadn’t heard the flush, he decided to go and check on the older. Gently rapping his knuckles against the wood, he waited for a reply but got none. Knocking a little harder, the dancer warned: “If you don’t tell me you’re fine, I’m coming in now.” All he got was a strained cough, so he tried the door, surprised that it was unlocked.
Minho growled when he opened the door and was hit with a wave of aggressive pheromones. It was so strong, he barely registered the underlying stench of vomit. His heart dropped when he spotted Chan curled up against the bathtub, his hands tightly fisted in his messy curls, pulling his hair. “Hey, stop that”, Minho scolded quietly, dropping to his knees next to the older. Stroking his fingers over the backs of Chan’s hands, the dancer hummed: “Hyung, you’ll make your headache worse. Deep breaths, hm?” He eventually got Chan to loosen his grip and gently took his hyung’s hands in his, squeezing them lightly. “Let’s calm down, okay?”, Minho tried, studying the leader. He was startled when Chan growled at him. The oldest had never done that and to be honest, Minho was scared. That changed immediately when they made eye contact though. Tears were streaming down Chan’s face and the younger realized the growl had been from pain and desperation, not anger though Chan was definitely angry too.
Sighing, Minho wrapped his arm around Chan’s shoulders and lifted a corner of the blanket to wipe his hyung’s tears. “You’re feeling worse, aren’t you?”, the dancer cooed, glancing at the toilet. Chan nodded defeatedly as he bit his lip to keep from either crying or growling. Comfortingly squeezing the Aussie’s shoulder, Minho frowned: “Why are you so angry, hyung?” – “Why does my body hate me so much?”,the older forced out between gritted teeth, his voice cracking painfully. ‘Maybe because you never allow it to sleep’, Minho thought but held his tongue. Feeling Chan’s forehead, Minho sighed: “Your body doesn’t hate you, hyung. You were just unlucky and yeah, I know that this isn’t how you had wanted to spend your day off but you need to stop getting mad at yourself for falling ill. It’s entirely human and also out of your control, so getting mad isn’t going to make anything better, if anything, it’ll make things worse.”
Minho sat with Chan for a while but the older didn’t get sick again, so Minho eventually flushed the toilet. “You think you’re done here?”, the dancer asked, smiling when his hyung nodded, “Alright, you wanna brush your teeth, while I go and get you some water?” Though Chan was exhausted, he allowed his dongsaeng to pull him to his feet. Sitting on the closed toilet lid, the leader accepted his toothbrush and tiredly scrubbed at his teeth, while Minho slipped out of the room. He needed to lean against the younger for support when rinsing out his mouth. Easing Chan back down, Minho handed him the water and had him take a few careful sips. While the older was already close to dozing off, Minho gently brushed his sweaty bangs out of his face and felt his forehead, humming: “Let me take your temperature. I have a feeling it’s only getting worse.” Chan only gave a sleepy hum of acknowledgement but turned his head to allow the other access to his ear. Minho clicked his tongue when the device beeped, the reading pretty high. He studied his hyung for a moment and realized he was still shivery, so taking away his blanket would be a cruel move, especially after the entire pack had scented it.
“Let’s get you back to the living room”, Minho breathed, wrapping his arm around Chan’s waist, “Maybe you wanna lay down in the nest now. It looked really cozy and the boys have been obsession over making it as comfortable as possible.” Getting up on trembling legs, the oldest leant heavily on Minho and relied on the other to keep him from toppling over. Chan’s head pounded and he stopped dead in his tracks as his vision faded. Hearing Minho curse, Changbin was by their side in an instant. Supporting their hyung from either side, the two quickly dragged him the last few meters to the living room and made it just seconds before the leader’s legs gave out. Chan groaned quietly as Changbin laid him down in the nest in the living room. The omega kept one hand on Chan’s shoulder the entire time, so he could feel his presence, using the other hand to motion for Felix. Though he wasn’t entirely out, Chan could barely comprehend his situation, flashing hot and breaking into a sweat as the room spun around him. The scent of his pack enveloped him, the only sense of comfort as every fiber of his body burned, his head pounding and eyes stinging.
Chan inhaled sharply, when something cold touched his forehead, bringing back his focus almost immediately. Holding the icepack in place, Felix soothed: “You’re okay. Just take a few deep breaths and the dizziness should fade soon.” – “Mmmmmh, hurts”, the alpha slurred, his eyes still screwed shut. “What hurts, hyung?”, Felix frowned as he cupped Chan’s flushed cheek. Furrowing his brow, the older tried to express when he was feeling but it was tough. Chan brought his hands up to cradle his head, muttering: “Everything.”He drowsily opened his eyes when he heard Minho set down the bucket next to the nest. They made eye contact, the younger promising: “Just in case, you probably won’t even need it.” Chan wasn’t so sure about that. His stomach was still in knots and although he was pretty certain, that he didn’t have much in him, he wouldn’t want to challenge fate.
With a heavy heart, Felix laid down by Chan’s side, lightly holding the icepack in place, so it wouldn’t slide off. He gave Jeongin as sad smile, when the maknae cuddled up to Chan’s other side and nosed at their hyung’s shoulder. None of them had expected they’d be spending a rare day off like this but at least they had Chan with them and the leader wasn’t hiding away in his room. Sure, they were taking a risk but it was a risk that Chan himself had taken time and time again. It was just so foreign to see their strong and seemingly invincible leader in such bad shape. It didn’t take long for Hyunjin and Jisung to join their mates in the nest, while Minho, Changbin and Seungmin discussed their next steps. With how sick Chan was, there was no way he’d be recovered in time to attend their schedule the following days, so Minho decided to step up and call their manager. The alpha might have stretched the truth a little to the point where their manager was so concerned about contagion, that he promised to arrange for all of the boys to have some more time off to care for their leader and make sure they themselves stayed healthy too.
Changbin and Seungmin watched over their sleeping pack, Seungmin being the first to notice Chan waking up. The leader was panting, terrified eyes meeting with Seungmin’s as he took a deep breath, the scents of his dongsaengs’ grounding him. Seungmin quietly snuck up to the nest, not wanting to wake any of the others. “Hey”, he whispered, reaching out to brush his hand against Chan’s arm, “You okay?” The alpha gave a small nod, wincing: “Jus’ a nightmare. Ugh, my head hurts.” – “I’m pretty sure you’re dehydrated, hyung”, Seungmin hummed, offering the older a hand to help him out of the nest, “Sit with Changbin-hyung for a bit and I’ll go fetch you something to drink.” Chan stumbled into Changbin’s embrace, the omega helping him over to the couch, where they sat down together. The oldest was resting his head on Changbin’s shoulder, while the rapper rubbed his back. When Seungmin returned, he was carrying a steaming cup and smiled: “It’s just some broth, so hopefully your tummy will accept it well. There’s no rush, just sip it slowly and see how you feel.” Chan nodded sleepily before lifting the cup to his lips.
Feeling cold now that he wasn’t all cuddled up with his mates, Chan wrapped his fingers around the cup to warm them and closed his eyes. The broth seemed to settle his stomach, at least a little, the angry churning easing up. “Chan, you awake?”, Minho asked carefully. The older hummed in confirmation, though his eyes remained shut. Crouching down in front of the leader, Minho smiled: “I just spoke to our manager.” That announcement suddenly had Chan wide awake, the realization that he’d need time off of work to recover only hitting now. “Relax”, the dancer chuckled, “We got our break extended. All of us have a few more days and we’ll see how you’re feeling by then and if you need more time. For now, the rest of us will be staying with you. Oh, you’re drinking something. That’s good! How does your stomach feel?” Chan’s shoulders relaxed and he shrugged: “Think the broth’s settling my stomach. It still feels meh, but I don’t think I need to be sick. Not yet, at least.”
With four of the members still sleeping comfortably in their nest, Minho soon turned on the TV again. Keeping the volume low, they watched “Big Hero 6”. Chan rested against Changbin’s side, slowly nibbling the crackers Minho had brought him while Seungmin curled up next to him. The beta was rare so openly affectionate but Chan definitely enjoyed it when he was, tangling his fingers in the younger’s hair. His heart fluttered when Seungmin started to purr quietly. It was something that had only happened on a couple of occasions because it meant the boy let his guard down completely, so Chan smiled as he finished his cracker and kept indulging the beta with headpats.
Chan hadn’t even noticed how his eyes fluttered shut again as he drifted off against Changbin, so he was surprised when he woke up later to an empty living room. He wasn’t entirely alone though. Changbin had stayed with him, looking up from his phone when Chan sat up and looked around in confusion. “Good morning, hyung”, the rapper chuckled, smoothing down Chan’s hair that was sticking out in all directions, “Just kidding, it’s late evening.” – “Hnnngg, …where’s everyone?”, the leader groaned as he tried to stretch his sore muscles. Gently massaging the alpha’s neck and shoulders, Changbin explained: “They’ve been asleep for quite a while, so Minho-hyung woke them and they’re having dinner right now.” – “Aren’t you hungry too?”,Chan frowned, feeling guilty that his dongsaeng was stuck with him. “I’m okay”, the rapper denied, “I can eat something later. How are you feeling, hyung?” – “My head doesn’t hurt as much, so it probably was dehydration”, Chan shrugged, rubbing his face, “’m really sore and tired and no amount of sleep seems to fix that. My throat hurts a little when I swallow or speak but it’s alright and I don’t feel as nauseous anymore, though I wouldn’t wanna put anything in my stomach that might change that.” Nodding in acknowledgement, Changbin hummed: “Maybe you could try some plain rice later, so you can have another dose of medicine before the night. If you want, I could run you a cool bath to see if that helps with the aches?” – “Jus’ need some help, walking to the bathroom”, the alpha rasped, “’m not dizzy but my legs feel funny. Not sure if it helps with the aches but I’m so sweaty it’s disgusting” – “Alright, hold onto me and if you start to feel faint, please give me a warning”, Changbin pleaded, helping the oldest to his feet.
Their walk to the bathroom took them a while but Chan was happy he made it without fainting, despite his legs growing wobbly as they got closer to their destination. Changbin eased the alpha down to sit on the rug and started to fill the tub with water, humming: “What do you wanna wear after your bath? Maybe something light, so you don’t overheat.” – “My grey sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt?”, Chan requested uncertainly, “Can we keep a hoodie close though? The chills suck.” – “Sure, we can”, the rapper agreed, dipping his hand into the water to check the temperature before dropping in a eucalyptus bath bomb. When the tub was filled, Changbin asked: “Can I leave you without you drowning?” Chan gave a sleepy nod, that wasn’t exactly a reassurance for the omega but he accepted it. “Alright, you can get in and I’ll grab you a fresh set of clothes”, Changbin stated, getting back to his feet before helping Chan up too. The alpha sat on the closed toilet lid as he sluggishly peeled off his clothes. He winced when the movement pulled on his muscles but it was nice to not have damp fabric clinging to his skin for a while.
Chan sighed as he lowered himself into the water. It was just warm enough to not cause him chills but eased the burning sensation on his skin. Hopefully, it’d lower his fever a little so he’d feel more like himself later. The alpha laid back and let the water soak his hair the cool sensation on his scalp relieving some of the pressure in his skull. Allowing himself to just float for a bit, Chan relaxed and had to remind himself not to fall asleep. Somehow all he seemed to be able to do today, was sleep. The scent of eucalyptus was quite intense and before long, Chan had to sit up as his breath had started to hitch. Pitching forward with a throaty sneeze, the alpha winced and massaged his throat, giving a scratchy cough afterwards.
When Changbin returned with his hyung’s clothes, he found the older dozing with his head resting on the side of the tub, so he wouldn’t drown. Combing the wet curls back, the rapper whispered: “Do you want me to wash your hair for you?” – “Could you?”, Chan breathed, sleepily lifting his head. “If you let me use conditioner too”, Changbin teased, picking up the bottle of shampoo, “You’ve been dyeing your hair a lot recently.” Squirting some shampoo into his hand, he spread it on the alpha’s wet curls and gently massaged it into the other’s scalp, careful not to get anything into his eyes. Chan relaxed into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. He usually skipped out on the conditioner as he couldn’t be bothered when only having a few minutes to shower but he wouldn’t argue with Changbin when the rapper was so gentle, applying the product to his damaged hair.
Chan shuddered when he got out of the tub and quickly bundled up in his towel to hopefully stop the chills before they could really start. When he plopped down on the closed toilet lid, Changbin grabbed a small towel and rubbed the alpha’s hair dry. The rapper was relieved when he made eye contact with Chan and his hyung’s eyes looked a little clearer than they had all day. Sure, they were a little swollen and the older looked incredibly run down, but the feverish gloss wasn’t as evident anymore. “You wanna try to have a bite for dinner? I’m sure everyone will be eagerly waiting to give you cuddles but once you’re trapped in that pile, there’s no getting out of it”, Changbin asked with a small laugh, remembering the struggle it always was to get out of a nest with a whole pack trying to get their dose of snuggles in. Chan seemed to have the same though, chuckling quietly to himself. When the leader agreed to try eating a little, Changbin left him to change and went to the kitchen to prepare a small bowl of plain rice, hoping it’d go easy on the alpha’s stomach and him getting sick earlier might have been a fluke.
Feeling refreshed, Chan found the energy to walk to the kitchen on his own. He waved at his dongsaengs fixing the nest as they settled in the living room. Felix shot him a wide smile and waved back, while the others were too occupied to notice him. In the kitchen, he found Changbin and Seungmin, who decided to keep their hyung company, so he wouldn’t have to eat alone. Changbin placed a small bowl of plain cooked rice in front of Chan and gave him a sympathetic smile when the leader hesitated. The oldest was determined though and taking his time, managed to finish all his food. When he was done, Changbin took the bowl to the kitchen and Seungmin placed a cup of lukewarm tea in front of Chan, handing the alpha two pills. The alpha struggled, barely getting the pills past his swollen throat but he really wanted to feel better already. Now that Chan was fed and medicated, he already started to feel a little more alive, though he knew that it mainly was a mind-thing as there was no way the medicine had kicked in already.
The other members had since split up between the two dorms and taken their turns showering, so they could have a sleepover. Minho, Felix and Jeongin collected their pajamas for the night, bringing Seungmin’s along too. Though they disliked the circumstances, they were glad to be able to spend some time as a pack once again, without having to work. Hyunjin had taken Felix to his room to show the Aussie his most recent painting, while Jisung had attached himself to Jeongin, the maknae affectionately scenting his hyung as they sat on the couch, waiting for their hyung.
“Yah! Don’t steal my squirrel”, Minho warned as he found his dongsaengs scenting each other on the couch. Purring loudly, Jisung made grabby hands for the dancer to join them. Minho crouched in front of the pair and smiled when the omega leant against his chest, nosing at his hyung’s scent glands. Jeongin linked his fingers with Minho, a wide smile spreading on the maknae’s lips while Minho switched between scenting him and scenting Jisung. The second oldest felt his heart flutter as Jeongin wasn’t usually this affectionate with him. The youngest alpha always eagerly scented the omegas of the group, sometimes he scented Seungmin too though the beta wasn’t that enthusiastic about scenting. Rarely was Jeongin okay with Chan or Minho scenting him, probably feeling belittled when the older alphas did it to him but right now, it was just what he needed. Jeongin didn’t know why he felt so clingy right now but considering they didn’t tease him for it, he’d just enjoy it while it lasted.
Chan smiled affectionately when he saw his donsgaengs so comfy but couldn’t hide the longing in his eyes. Noticing that, Changbin took the leader’s hand and pulled him along. Chan still didn’t want to get his face that close to his mates but faintly scented them by rubbing his wrists against their necks. Jisung’s delighted purrs filled the air but what really made Chan’s flutter, was when he picked up on a much quieter purr. Changbin kept his eyes closed as the oldest scented him but with his hand against the rapper’s neck, the alpha could feel the vibrations and smiled. He knew as the oldest omega in the pack, Changbin was a lot tougher than his dongsaengs but secretly still enjoyed it when Chan and Minho cared for him like this. Always making sure that the younger omegas received the amount of comfort and affection they needed to strive, Changbin’s own needs often ended up on the back burner, so knowing this, Chan took his time to scent the other thoroughly. He had planned to spend this day off caring for his mates and make sure his dongsaengs got the amount of affection they needed from their pack alpha, so he wouldn’t let his sickness stop him from fulfilling his duties as a leader.
After two more movies, the group had gone to sleep in the big nest in the living room. As much as Chan yearned to join his pack, he had opted to sleep on the couch. For one, it didn’t feel right to sleep in one large pile with his dongsaengs while being sick, though he had already been quite careless as the day had progressed, and two, the alpha may have been able to keep his dinner down but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t queasy and it would be better to have an easy escape route to the bathroom, should he need it. They had pushed the couch closer to the nest, so Chan had his arm dangling off the couch and Felix slept half sitting up against the couch, hugging his hyung’s arm. The other members lay piled on top of each other, limbs tangled. Glancing at the nest in darkness, Chan couldn’t even tell where one of his mates ended and another began.
He had been watching the nest for close to an hour already, struggling to sleep after sleeping for most of the day. Plus, the leader had developed an annoying cough, that he fought to suppress, so he wouldn’t keep the others up. At some point, Chan had staggered to the kitchen to take some of that cough syrup, Minho had brought from their dorm. His eyes watered as he squinted at the label and tried to figure out the right dosage. Sniffling, the Aussie scrubbed at his face and tried again. He didn’t even notice someone sneaking up on him.
Minho had woken up not long ago and heard his hyung rummaging around in the kitchen. When the oldest didn’t return after a while, Minho detangled himself from the cuddlepile, careful not to wake any of the others, and went to check on their leader. Chan startled when the dancer rested a hand on his back, relaxing when he realized who was there with him. “Was jus’ gonna take some medicine”,Chan rasped before clearing his throat, “’s kinda blurry, d’you know how much I gotta take?” – “Hang on”, Minho hummed, taking the bottle from his hyung. He read over the label before pouring some into the measuring cup and handing it to Chan. The older thanked him quietly before knocking it back, grimacing at the taste. They made their way back to the living room, where Minho hugged Chan good night before laying back down next to Jisung, the rapper sleepily snuggling up to him. Chan plopped down on the couch massaging his temples before laying back down. As soon as he hung his arm over the edge of the couch, Felix reattached himself to the alpha’s arm. It was truly impressive how the boy’s instincts could sense Chan’s presence while deeply asleep.
Though Chan didn’t really manage to fall asleep, he allowed himself to drift, embracing the floaty feeling, the sleepy haze that dulled his discomfort a little. He was only brought back to focus, when he heard a frustrated whine coming from the nest. There was some shuffling but he couldn’t see who was awake. It took another grumpy huff for Chan to recognize the boy by his sounds. It seemed that Jeongin was trying to get up but was stuck under the limbs of the other pack members. Chan quickly got to his feet, approaching the side of the nest. Crouching next to the younger, Chan brushed the maknae’s bangs out of his face. He cringed at the way the hair stuck the his dongsaeng’s sweaty forehead and cooed: “You trapped, pup?” – “No shit, Sherlock”, Jeongin huffed, again trying to free himself, “Some help maybe?” Though stunned by the younger’s reply, Chan rushed to help detangle Jeongin’s limbs and shift Hyunjin off of the boy’s legs. No sooner than he was free did Jeongin clamber out of the nest, stumbling once he was on his feet. His legs tingled from the blood returning to them and the shift caused his head to spin, so the maknae sat down on the carpet a few steps away from the nest.
Worried, Chan crouched next to him, rasping: “You okay?”– “Too hot”, Jeongin panted, fanning himself with his hands. While his dongsaeng sprawled out on the floor, trying too cool off, Chan went to the kitchen to fetch the younger a glass of cool water. Taking a seat next to Jeongin, the leader gently nudged his arm and cooed when the boy hazily blinked up at him. “Have some water, pup”, Chan instructed, waiting for Jeongin to sit up. When he did, the maknae gratefully accepted the drink and muttered: “Sorry, just got overheated for a moment.” – “Mhm, I can imagine. You look all sweaty”,Chan smiled sympathetically, watching his dongsaeng chug the water in one go. When Jeongin was confident he could stand without losing his balance, he hummed: “I am all sweaty. Is it okay if I use your shower?” – “Yeah, of course”, the leader encouraged, “Go ahead, try to cool off a little.” – “Um, hyung… My clothes”, Jeongin muttered, not really feeling like going over to his own dorm to collect a change of clothes. Chan seemed to realize that too, chuckling: “You know where my closet is, just help yourself.” The younger’s face brightened at that and he hurriedly thanked the other before getting to his feet.
Jeongin barely managed to suppress a groan, finally understanding why Hyunjin generally preferred to nest on his bed. He tried to stretch his arms and shoulders a little as he made his way to the bathroom, wincing at how sore he felt. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, had he not somehow ended up at the bottom of their pile, with who knows how many members pilled on top of him. His head was starting to hurt too and Jeongin got concerned that he had sweat to the point of dehydration, which seemed highly likely when he took off his shirt and realized just how soaked it was. He’d make sure to have another glass of water before laying back down later. First, he’d take a nice cool shower to get rid of the sweat and be less sticky. Then, he’d make use of his privilege to steal some of his pack-alpha’s clothes. Maybe he should shower extra-cold, so he could put on one of Chan’s large hoodies without instantly getting overheated again.
Finding nothing wrong with his plan, Jeongin showered pretty cold. He secretly loved wearing Chan’s hoodies but was usually too proud to ask for one, which the omegas of the pack did frequently. Now he had the perfect excuse to borrow one, so he’d surely not miss out on it. By the time Jeongin stepped out of the shower, he was chilled all the way through, shivering as he grabbed a towel to wrap himself in. He had to fight to keep his teeth from chattering but had no regrets. His hyung’s hoodie was entirely worth the temporary discomfort. What Jeongin hadn’t planned on though, was Chan’s concern when the maknae returned to the living room shivering. The boy had pulled the sleeves over his hands and was hugging himself as he tried to warm up. To Chan the only logical conclusion was that he had gotten his dongsaeng sick. The rapid change from feeling too hot, the sweating and now the chills. Plus, it had come on so fast during the past hour. This had to be the same thing that had wrecked Chan the previous night.
Jeongin felt guilty and a little ashamed as his sick hyung fussed over him, trying to assure the older: “I’m really just cold because I took a cold shower. I promise I feel fine otherwise and I’m sure I’ll warm up in no time.” Though Chan remained doubtful, he accepted that explanation. They weren’t so sure about Jeongin returning to the nest though. Sure, he’d be warm in no time but the hoodie he wore now was a lot thicker than what he had been wearing before, so he’d inevitably overheat again. “You can stay here with me if you want”, Chan offered quietly, “It’s not the same as a nest, I know that, but I’m pretty sure my fever is high enough to warm you up too.” Jeongin nodded, trying not to seem too eager as he curled up in the leader’s arms. He had missed this. With how busy they were, he had only gotten the occasional hug from Chan when they greeted each other to head to their schedule. No matter how much Jeongin pretended to hate the skinship, he also craved it from time to time and right now, for some reason he really, really needed it.
Chan smiled fondly as his dongsaeng cuddled up to him and was satisfied that the boy’s shivers soon let up. While Chan stayed up for a little while longer, unable to fall asleep, Jeongin was out pretty fast. Wearing his hyung’s hoodie and having the older hug him, the makane was fully enveloped in his mate’s scent, which made him incredibly drowsy. He didn’t even notice how he started to rub his cheek into Chan’s chest and gently kneaded the material of the leader’s shirt. Chan noticed though, lightly running his fingers through Jeongin’s damp hair. It was sweet to see their youngest so affectionate as that wasn’t often the case. Jeongin was always so insistent on his independence and didn’t like to seem too soft. Sometimes Chan worried that the maknae’s secondary gender made him feel pressured into seeming strong and invincible, despite all of them being more than willing to dote on their youngest.
The two members that Jeongin was the most affectionate with were Minho and Felix. Minho because he was another alpha, so Jeongin didn’t feel like he had to be strong for him and sometimes allowed himself to let his guard down around the second-oldest. Unlike Chan, Minho didn’t have the responsibility for an entire pack on his shoulders, which was what usually stopped Jeongin from opening up to their leader. The oldest already had so much on his plate that Jeongin didn’t want to bother him. Despite being the youngest, Jeongin was adamant about Felix being everyone’s favorite baby. That didn’t mean he was jealous of the omega, feeling the same about the Aussie as the rest of the group. It was easy for the maknae to be affectionate with Felix because the other was naturally cuddly and he didn’t have to worry about being teased for taking care of the older. Except for his voice, Felix really was the perfect omega, all soft and caring, always up for snuggles and really good at nesting. It was only natural for Jeongin to feel protective of him. In the beginning, Chan had felt hurt that the youngest would always choose his Aussie brother over him but realized he’d be all the same if their roles were reversed. The leader figured that them both being alphas further strained their relationship but watched Jeongin seek out Minho for comfort, which always sent stabs of jealousy through his heart. Chan’s only comfort was Minho’s explanation that Jeongin cared too much about their leader, that he didn’t want to bother him with his problems. No matter how many times Chan insisted that Jeongin could always come to him with any worries he might have, the maknae still tried to avoid it, which made these rare soft moments between the two of them even more precious.
With the young alpha snuggled against his chest, Chan had eventually drifted off too and managed to get a few more hours of fitful sleep. Jeongin seemed so peaceful in his arms, the leader couldn’t help but scent the boy gently, making sure not to wake him. As the other members woke up one by one, Chan shushed them quietly, wanting their youngest to get as much sleep as possible after last night’s incident. Felix sat up straighter, cutely rubbing his eyes with his fists before sleepily blinking up at the two alphas on the couch. Why did they have to cuddle without him, when all Chan would give him was his arm to cuddle with. “Good morning, pup”, the oldest whispered, reaching out to pet Felix’ hair. That was enough to cheer the omega up and he happily nuzzled into Chan’s hand. Stretching his arms, Felix yawned: “Why did Innie leave the nest?” – “I think he ended up at the bottom of the pile and started to overheat”, Chan replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair out of Jeongin’s face, “When I helped him get out, he was all sweaty and I think he was lightheaded too. He took a cold shower to cool off but he stayed with me after that.” - “Aww, poor pup”, Felix cooed, lightly running his fingers down the maknae’s arm, “How are you feeling, hyung? Did you manage to get some sleep?”
The question had taken Chan by surprise and he needed to think for a moment before replying. He had wanted to say he was fine and honestly, he had been convinced that he was, his sole focus on their youngest, but now that Felix forced him to pay attention to his own body, the leader realized that he was far from fine. “I don’t know”, Chan shrugged, “Achy an’ tired but it’s okay.” Rolling his eyes, Felix got to his feet and rested his small hand against his hyung’s forehead before clicking his tongue: “Your fever’s still pretty high, so maybe stop downplaying the way you feel, hyung.” He refrained from pointing out that cuddling their dongsaeng had probably made it worse because he knew Chan always craved affection from their maknae but rarely ever got it. “I-I genuinely didn’t pay attention”, the alpha defended himself, trying to take note of every sensation, “I guess, now that you say it, my head an’ throat still hurt an’ my eyes are a little irritated, probably from the fever, but that’s ‘bout it. No big deal.”
Minho had been listening in on their conversation and offered: “Do you want me to take Innie from you, so you can get up and have some water?” The angry glare, Chan shot him was enough for the dancer to defensively raise his hands as the oldest tightened his hug, pulling Jeongin even closer. Chan couldn’t help but feel possessive. Usually it was Minho that Jeongin sought out, so no, Minho couldn’t have their dongsaeng this time! Still looking angry, the leader hoarsely growled: “You won’t take my pup!” - “I wasn’t going to take your pup from you, hyung. Would you drink the water if I brought it to you and you wouldn’t have to let go of Innie?”, the second-oldest tried, afraid Chan would put his own needs on the backburner to make sure everyone else’s needs were covered. Relaxing at the reassurance that no one was going to take the maknae from him, Chan gave a hesitant nod and watched the younger wearily as he got up. He still wasn’t going to completely let his guard down in case it was a ruse and Minho would come back to steal Jeongin.
Shaking his head at his hyung’s possessiveness, Minho went to the kitchen and poured the older a glass of water. When he returned to the living room, Chan was nosing at Jeongin’s scent glands, while Felix scented his wrist. It was times like this, that Minho remembered just how much their pack-alpha too was depending on their affection. As he quietly convinced Chan to take a break, just long enough to sit up and have a few sips of water, Changbin and Seungmin passed them, heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the pack. Hyunjin and Jisung were the only two still curled up in the nest, limbs tangled with each other. The pair looked so cozy cuddled together like that. They had grown even closer since the dorms were separated and Hyunjin moved in with 3racha and Minho wasn’t entirely used to seeing the two of them so all over each other. The alpha could still remember how the pair had hated each other’s guts during the survival show. Even after they had formed a pack, they still rivaled for the three alphas’ affection. It seemed their differences had taught them to understand each other and by a long shot, be each other’s source of comfort.
Chan coughed softly as he handed the glass back to Minho. Swallowing had irritated his throat and he struggled to fight back the cough, so he wouldn’t wake Jeongin, who rested against his side. With his eyes watering, Chan finally accepted Minho’s help shifting the maknae off of him and stumbled towards the bathroom. His head swam the moment he got to his feet but he didn’t want to wake his dongsaeng, so he let Felix take his place on the couch. Halfway to the bathroom, Minho caught up to Chan and wrapped a steady arm around the leader’s waist, keeping him from losing his balance.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Chan broke into harsh cough, choking on air. Afraid his hyung might fall with how shaky his legs seemed, Minho made the older sit on the closed toilet lid and gently patted his back. The leader’s eyes watered and in the bright bathroom light, Minho could see how they were still glossed over. “Ow”, Chan groaned as he massaged his throat. Using his sleeves, he scrubbed his face and tiredly looked up at Minho, who reached out to feel the other’s forehead, frowning: “You feeling okay? You look really, really pale.” The older shrugged, slipping one hand under his shirt to palm his middle. “The water isn’t really settling well”, Chan admitted quietly, unable to suppress a queasy burp, “Not sure it’ll stay down for long.” He soon broke into a sweat as he shakily moved from the toilet lid to the floor. With his mouth already watering, Chan’s heart started to race. This couldn’t be happening. Minho sympathetically stroked his back and flipped the toilet seat up, watching the other wince and shuffle closer to the toilet.
“I-I don’ -I don’t feel good”, Chan whimpered before lurching forward with a gag. Taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub, Minho brushed the leader’s curls out of his face and promised: “You’re okay. Just get it over with and you can go lay back down again.” The older shook his head, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he fought his stomach. His throat was way too sore for this. The battle was soon lost when his stomach turned again. A single tear dripped from Chan’s lashes as he heaved, only able to bring up a small watery trickle. No surprise, he hadn’t eaten much last night but hopefully that meant, he’d be done soon. Forcing a cough, Chan tightly grabbed onto the edge of the bathtub and retched up another mouthful. His throat strained as his stomach tried to turn itself inside out. Watching his hyung struggle, Minho got up and fetched a small towel, which he ran under the tap. The dancer wrung out the excess water and folded the cold compress up before draping it across the back of Chan’s neck, humming: “Just try to take a few deep breaths, hyung. There’s nothing for you to bring up, so we need to try and settle your stomach before your throat is completely wrecked.” – “Already is”, the oldest choked out, his voice cracking painfully before cutting out.
After ten more minutes of torturous dry heaves, Chan was able to catch his breath, curling up on the bathroom rug as his stomach cramped. Minho kneeled beside him and used the damp towel to clean the leader’s face. Brushing away the tears and wiping the sweat off of Chan’s brow, the younger worried: “You want us to take you to a doctor? I’m pretty sure you’re getting dehydrated and your fever is barely improving, not even with medicine.” Chan kept his eyes screwed shut and shook his head the tiniest bit. His head was pounding from the strain making it difficult for him to grasp a clear thought. “I-I’ll try drinking something soon”, the oldest promised, his voice shot, “Just don’ wanna move right now.” – “That’s okay”, Minho assured quietly, “I’ll go and fetch you some water and a sports drink, so we can see what settles better. You okay for now?” Chan nodded, hugging his painful middle as his dongsaeng got to his feet and shuffled out of the bathroom, thankfully turning off the light, so it’d stop assaulting Chan’s eyes.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Minho, who appeared by Chan’s side next. Apparently, Jeongin had started to give Felix an attitude, not pleased by waking up with someone other than he had fallen asleep with. Sure, it was confusing but there was no need to act out because of it. The tone he had used when talking to the omega was completely unexpected, considering the intense soft spot he usually had for the other. Felix had been taken aback, going from cuddling his youngest dongsaeng to arguing with him in less than two minutes.
Felix hadn’t meant to break like that but he couldn’t hold back his tears at the harsh treatment. Once Hyunjin had led Jeongin away to try and get him to cool off, the Aussie started crying, needing a thorough scenting from Minho in order to calm down. While Minho sat in the nest with Felix in his lap, letting his comforting alpha pheromones soothe the boy, Changbin had retrieved a bottle of sports drink and refilled Chan’s glass with water before heading to the bathroom. “Hyung?”, the rapper asked softly, crouching next to the leader. He had decided against turning on the light and instead left the door slightly ajar, so he could see. Sniffling quietly, Chan turned his head towards his dongsaeng to show him he had heard him without having to talk. Changbin squeezed the alpha’s shoulder and helped him sit up, whispering: “Do you think you can stomach a few sips? If so, water or sports drink?” – “I think, I’ll try the sports drink”, Chan breathed, hoping the dizziness would improve once he managed to get in some electrolytes. Nodding, the rapper uncapped the bottle and handed it to Chan, who accepted it with a trembling hand.
They sat together in the semi-darkness for a while, Changbin wanting the oldest to sit upright for a while before they’d try getting him to his feet, afraid the leader would faint if they took it too fast. Chan tiredly rested his head on his mate’s shoulder, occasionally drinking a few small sips before losing his eyes and waiting for his stomach to calm down. The omega let him rest, brushing the backs of his fingers against the other’s flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you to your room? I think the others are about to have breakfast and I’m not sure you want to be around food”, Changbin hummed. When Chan picked up his head and gave a small nod, the rapper got to his feet and offered the older both of his hands, pulling him up. The alpha’s head spun and he was grateful for Changbin’s hands on his arms. With the younger’s support he managed to get halfway down the hallway before being hit with a wave of pheromones that clearly expressed upset. It was weird because it was a blend of both Felix’ and Jeongin’s scent. Had something happened? Before Chan could ask Changbin what was wrong, Jeongin passed them, having traded Chan’s hoodie for one of Hyunjin’s t-shirts. The leader was quick to pull the maknae into a hug, unable to bear knowing the boy was upset and he hadn’t been there for him. If only Jeongin hadn’t been so sweaty. Shoving Chan away, the youngest complained: “Hyung off! You’re too warm.” Chan froze in his spot, feeling his heart break as his dongsaeng huffed and made his way to the kitchen, completely unaware of the tears spilling down the leader’s face at the rejection as Changbin led him to his bedroom.
Gritting his teeth, Jeongin made his way to the kitchen to grab a bite for breakfast. He was faintly aware that his mates wanted to have breakfast together but he wasn’t in the mood and even considered heading back over to his own dorm. By now, the alpha regretted sleeping in the nest with the rest of the group, something he usually loved doing but considering the nest had been built on the living room carpet, it was a bit harder than expected, leaving his muscles stiff and sore. The nests his hyungs built on their beds were so much comfier but to be fair, they were never spacious enough to fit that many members. Seungmin found the youngest searching the kitchen for food and offered him some friend eggs, reminding him that they’d all be ready to eat soon. Brushing the beta off, Jeongin found a bottle of banana milk and grabbed an apple. He was surprised when Jisung stood in front of him pouting: “You don’t wanna eat with us, Innie?” The maknae shook his head, wanting to walk off but Jisung blocked his path. “No, hyung”, the alpha growled, “No, I do not want to eat with you.” Frozen in shock, the rapper didn’t put up any fight as Jeongin pushed past him, biting into the apple even though he wasn’t really hungry.
“It’s okay, hyung”, Changbin promised, helping Chan settle on his bed and stroking the pack-alpha’s back, “Innie didn’t mean to be that harsh. He just woke up in a bit of a mood today and has been cranky ever since.” The older nodded in acknowledgement, wiping his eyes on his sleeve but the tears still kept falling. He shouldn’t have been so surprised, knowing that Jeongin hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep but his reaction had been so uncalled for. Was that also why Felix smelled so upset? Sniffling back another flood of tears, Chan rasped: “What about Lixxie? He didn’t smell right.” – “Innie vented his frustration at him the second he woke up”, Changbin sighed, “I don’t think moving him while he was asleep was a good idea to be honest. Jeonginnie let his guard down around you and expected to also wake up with you. Waking up in someone else’s arms must have been a shock. I’m pretty sure he’s just a bit rattled by the experience and the lack of good sleep makes it worse. He’ll come around eventually.” The leader nodded sadly. “Minho is with Felix, who is probably just as shaken because he had expected a calm morning with lots of cuddles, not being growled at this early in the day and especially not by Innie. Baby-bread doesn’t act like that with Felix”, the rapper continued, “Don’t worry though, Minho and I have it handled. We can deal with a grumpy pup and once the others accept that it’s nothing personal, they’ll be a lot calmer too.”
Once Jeongin had finished his apple, he reached into his pocket, grabbing the painkiller he had snuck from the kitchen counter. He hated his tendency to get headaches whenever he ran on too little sleep and though he had technically slept rather long, it wasn’t a good rest. The ensuing headache was the only reason he had gotten himself some food at all, not wanting to upset his stomach by taking something without at least a snack in his tummy. Rinsing the pill down with a large sip of his banana milk, Jeongin snuck a hand under his t-shirt and rubbed his rumbling tummy. He regretted eating that apple because it wasn’t like there was still much harm he could’ve done by taking the pill on an empty stomach. The organ already churned angrily after he had listened to Chan being sick, shuddering at the memory as the sound replayed over and over in his head.
Maybe going back to his own dorm would be for the best, at least till the pill took effect. He doubted he’d be able to keep it down if he had to listen to Chan throwing up again and he really needed it to stay down, otherwise his mates’ chattering would drive him up the walls. That was the thing, Jeongin never dealt well with headaches, despite having them pretty frequently, always getting more sensitive to noise and a little cranky in general. He could still smell how hurt Felix felt and his heart did ache a little for the omega, already regretting how harsh he had been. Maybe he should just lay down at the other dorm for a while, maybe get some more sleep and return once the risk of him snapping at the others was a little lower.
In the end, Jeongin decided to stay. The other members were currently having breakfast, meaning the living room was considerably quiet when he curled up on the couch. He was too sore to go back to the nest besides, he had probably lost the privilege of being allowed in the second he spoke to their youngest omega the way he did. Luckily, it seemed like Chan had fallen asleep in his room, so the risk of Jeongin getting sympathy sick was low, for the time being at least. As the boy lay there, slowly growing drowsy again, a shiver ran down his spine. He was the only one walking around in only a t-shirt, so it was no wonder he felt cold but he had been so hot earlier. Squirming in discomfort, Jeongin found Chan’s blanket. They had all scented it for the older last night and it still faintly smelled like the pack, so Jeongin eagerly nuzzled his face into it. The scent was so comforting, especially when he knew he couldn’t go to any of the others for comfort after being so grumpy towards them. Tiredly spreading the blanket over his shivery body and hoping the group would take a while to finish their breakfast, the maknae closed his eyes again and allowed himself another nap.
Figuring their dongsaeng’s mood would improve once he had had enough rest, the other members didn’t dare disturb the boy. Changbin, Jisung and Seungmin had settled in Jisung’s room and decided to continue a drama the three of them had been watching recently, while Minho and Felix had followed Hyunjin to his room, where the Aussie was showered with affection by the other two dancers. He had calmed down after breakfast but his mood remained gloomy. Though Felix had accepted that it hadn’t been anything personal, the rejection had still hurt. Chan felt similarly. He was supposed to take another nap, which was why Changbin had left him to rest, but he somehow couldn’t sleep. Remembering how bitter Felix’ scent had been, the alpha waited for the dizziness to fade, so he could make it out of bed without collapsing. He really wanted to check on his dongsaeng. Chan had figured they were still in the living room, so he sluggishly rolled out of bed and shuffled down the hallway. It was quiet outside of his room but Jeongin’s similarly bitter scent hung heavily in the air.
Chan realized that Jeongin must be in the living room and went to check on the maknae, finding him asleep on the couch. The blanket had slipped to the floor, so the leader wasn’t too surprised to find goosebumps on Jeongin’s bare arms. Hoping for the younger to get the rest he needed, Chan carefully picked up the blanket and scented it. Jeongin had seemed fond of his scent the previous night, so maybe he’d find some comfort in it now too. Once the blanket was thoroughly scented, Chan spread it over the boy’s sleeping form and made sure it was nicely tucked around his shoulders and arms, so he wouldn’t feel cold. After that, the leader quietly made his way to Hyunjin’s room. Felix loved to stay there with his fellow dancer, so he figured the younger would be there. Maybe Hyunjin was showing him some of his paintings to cheer him up. Unsurprisingly, he could already hear Felix low voice through the door and knocked gingerly. Minho was the one to let him in as Felix sat in Hyunjin’s lap and had the other omega play with his hair. Walking Chan to the bed, where he sat down next to the pair, Minho asked: “What are you doing out of bed, hyung? Are you feeling better?” Felix got out of Hyunjin’s lap to hug Chan, so the leader stroked his back and tried to control his pheromones in hopes of comforting the younger Aussie. “They still smelled upset, so I wanted to make sure everything’s okay”, Chan admitted, ignoring the other question, “Innie’s asleep, so he should hopefully cheer up later, and Lixxie seems to be getting all the cuddles, so he should be fine soon too, hm?” Felix nodded eagerly, rubbing his cheek against the alpha’s shoulder.
The four of them sat for a while until Chan seemed to grow drowsy and more out of it than before, so Minho offered to take him back to his room. “I haven’t even been out of bed for long”, the oldest grumbled, “How can I feel so drained from doing nothing?” – “Hyung, your body is working hard to fight off the infection. That’s not doing nothing”, Hyunjin argued, shooting the alpha a soft smile, “It’s nothing shameful to rest when you need it, especially when you’re give the opportunity.” Chan sighed, knowing the younger wasn’t wrong, no matter how frustrating it felt to need so much rest. “Hope you feel better soon, Channie-hyung?”, Felix beamed, his chocolatey scent sweet as always, when Minho walked the oldest back to his room. Once he was sure Chan had everything he might need, the dancer stopped by the living room to check on Jeongin. The maknae was still asleep but not very deeply. He seemed restless and startled awake when Minho got closer. “Hey”, the dancer smiled softly, “You okay?” – “’m fine”, the youngest grumbled. Being confronted with another alpha, he had immediately pulled up his walls. There was no way he’d let his hyung see him weak.
With Jeongin’s scent souring even further, it didn’t take long for Changbin to slip out of his room to check on him. The rapper walked in on the two alphas glaring at each other and quickly stepped between the two of them, earning a growl from Jeongin. “Yah! No growling and no fighting”, Changbin warned, “Neither of you.” Minho only looked at him with his brows furrowed, still confused by the maknae’s sudden temper. Jeongin on the other hand gave the rapper a challenging look, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Shaking his head in disappointment, Changbin sighed: “I don’t know what we’ve done that upset you but considering you seem to have a problem with literally any of us, you might want to go to your room, so we don’t end up bothering you.” Seeing that the rapper seemed to have Jeongin handled, Minho headed to the kitchen to get some distance between the maknae and himself. Jeongin shot his hyung a death glare and nodded. “Not like I’d want to be around you anyway”, the alpha spat, taking Changbin by surprise. Where was the Jeongin he knew? Shaking his head, the rapper frowned: “Are you okay?” The younger pushed past him though. “I’m fine, fuck off!”, Jeongin huffed, determined to get to his own dorm, so his friends would stop getting on his nerves. Taking a deep breath to calm his own rising frustration, Changbin turned to join Minho in the kitchen when he heard a dull thud.
Jeongin’s head had been pounding from the strain of simply being on his feet and Minho’s presence felt like a threat, the older alpha way too close for comfort. With Changbin disappointed in him too, the maknae saw no other option than to flee to the safety of his own room, even if that meant that he’d have to go to the other dorm. His vision swam and he had to brace himself against the wall as he struggled to remain on his feet, staggering down the hallway. Jeongin had almost made it to the front door and bent down to put on his shoes, when his vision darkened and his legs gave out.
Changbin spun around instantly, cursing under his breath when he saw Jeongin’s crumpled form by the door. He should’ve known, deep inside he had known. Something had to be seriously wrong for the maknae to act the way that he had. Having heard the thud and Changbin’s curse, Minho too rushed from the kitchen. Kneeling next to his dongsaeng, Changbin announced: “Hyung, he’s burning up.” – “Probably caught the same thing as Chan”, the dancer frowned, “Should’ve know something was up. He wasn’t acting like himself at all.” Crouching next to Jeongin, Minho shook the boy’s arm and called: “Innie? You hear me?”
It took a moment but Jeongin eventually stirred. His vision was still dark, his ears ringing as he couldn’t tell up from down. Everything seemed to spin, making his stomach turn. “Ssh, stay down, pup. You just fainted”, Changbin shushed when the younger whimpered, keeping a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder. His words fell on deaf ears though as Jeongin struggled against his hand, his heart racing. Minho soothingly cupped the maknae’s flushed cheek, promising him that everything would be fine and that he just needed to take it easy for now. With his head pounding, Jeongin kept fighting his hyungs, sitting up in a panic as his stomach lurched. His hand shot to his lips and Minho was quick to wrap his arm around the younger’s shoulders, so he wouldn’t collapse back onto the floor. Gasping as sick spilled out between Jeongin’s fingers, Changbin rushed to help his hyung prop the boy up. “It’s okay, pup”, Minho promised, his voice soft, “You’re okay.” Tears dripped from Jeongin’s lashes as he choked up his meager breakfast, struggling to remain upright as the floor seemed to move underneath him. He relied heavily on his mates’ support to keep him from slumping over.
Patting Jeongin’s back as the boy coughed, Changbin cooed: “It’s okay, Innie. We got you. Hyungs got you. Just breathe for now.” The youngest’s chest hitched with a sob as he slumped into Minho’s side. “I-I’m sor-sorry”, Jeongin sobbed, slurring his speech the slightest bit, “I-I don’ feel good.” – “We know, pup. It’s okay”, Minho promised quietly, brushing the boy’s sweaty bangs out of his face. Changbin kept rubbing his back to help him calm down. If he worked himself up, he might make himself sick again. They waited for Jeongin to catch his breath before Minho asked: “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Do you feel like you’re done for now?” Giving the tiniest of nods, the maknae looked at Minho, his eyes glossy with fever. “Do you think you can stand if we help you up?”, the dancer worried. Unsurprisingly, Jeongin shook his head. His legs felt like jelly and his head still spun. “That’s okay”, Changbin comforted when he saw the younger’s bottom lip quiver, “I’ll carry you to the bathroom and we will run you a nice warm bath.”
With Minho’s help, Changbin scooped the maknae up. Jeongin whimpered at being moved as his body ached and stomach rolled. He doubted he could throw up again, barely having had anything in his tummy to begin with, but the discomfort was still there and the back of his throat felt funny. Changbin was as careful as he could possibly be, his movements slow and controlled as to not cause his dongsaeng anymore pain. Cradling his soiled hand close to his body, Jeongin weakly clutched the rapper’s shoulder with the other, afraid of falling despite knowing his hyung would never drop him. His fever-muddled brain couldn’t comprehend why Changbin was there. Why he’d help him when Jeongin hadn’t been anything other than mean today. Hell, he had even made Lixxie cry, so for any member to be talking to him at all was confusing. “Can you lift your arms for me? Let’s get that dirty shirt off of you”, the rapper hummed when he had settled the young alpha on the bathroom rug. Though his muscles burned, Jeongin tried his hardest to comply, muttering apology after apology to the point where his words blurred together.
Once Changbin had removed his dongsaeng’s vomit-stained t-shirt, he gently rested his hands on either side of the boy’s face, forcing him to look at him. “Innie, we know you didn’t mean it”, the rapper promised, “I know you don’t feel well, Minho knows you don’t feel well and the rest, the rest is mainly confused why you were acting so out of character. We aren’t mad and they aren’t mad either. We are all just worried because you wouldn’t tell us what was going on with you.” – Didn’t know wha- was goin on with me”, Jeongin slurred tiredly, though he was relieved that his mates weren’t mad. As Changbin filled the tub with water, he hummed: “Well, at least, we have figured that out now. It seems you caught whatever Channie-hyung has but it’s okay, we still have some time off and both of you will be fine in no time.” Jeongin only gave a sad sniffle in reply. Time off or not, this still sucked. “You can get in in a moment, while I fetch you some fresh clothes. Is there anything specific you wanna wear?”, Changbin asked as he turned off the water. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, the maknae whimpered: “Can- Can I have one of Channie-hyung’s hoodies?” His voice cracked pitifully making him seem far younger than usual. Running his fingers through the boy’s hair, Changbin promised: “I’ll ask him but I doubt he’ll say no.” None of them would dare say no to their pup. “I’ll be back in a bit”, the rapper smiled, leaving Jeongin to get into the tub and wash up.
After cleaning up the mess, Minho quickly informed the rest of the group what was going on. All except for Chan that was, the leader sleeping soundly in his room, a sight that none of them had seen in a while. That didn’t mean that he didn’t wake up when Changbin slipped into his room. Sleepily blinking up at the rapper, Chan rubbed his face and tried to collect himself. “Hyung, can I borrow one of your hoodies?”, Changbin asked quietly, smiling when the alpha nodded without hesitation, “Thanks, go back to sleep, hyung?” Instead of going back to sleep like the omega had requested, Chan sat up and yawned: “What’s going on?” Grabbing on of the leader’s hoodies, Changbin sighed took a seat on his hyung’s bed and ran a hand through his hair. It was obvious that he felt stressed, which worried Chan. “It’s Innie”, the rapper sighed, “He’s been so grumpy because he’s sick. Your symptoms are identical, so you two probably caught the same thing.” Now, the leader was wide awake. No wonder his pup had been so cranky. If they had the same thing, Jeongin had to feel absolutely awful. Seeing Chan try to get up, Changbin was quick to place a hand on his shoulder and frown: “Stay in bed, hyung. Minho-hyung and I have it handled. Innie’s taking a bath right now, so I’ll go back to check on him. He requested one of your hoodies when I asked him what he wanted to wear, so how about you scent it for him?” The oldest nodded eagerly, taking the clothing item from his dongsaeng. Once he had scented it thoroughly and handed it back to Changbin, he requested: “Please wake me if you need me. I wanna be there for Innie too.” – “Of course, I will, hyung”, the rapper smiled, “Try to get some more rest for now, yeah?”
Once all members were updated on Jeongin’s condition, Minho slipped into the bathroom and crouched next to the tub. Jeongin, who had just been floating in the lukewarm water, drowsily glanced up at the other. “Hey there, pup”, the dancer chuckled, “Do you want hyung to wash your hair for you?” Struggling to sit up, Jeongin nodded and yawned: “Please, my arms are so sore.” – “Mhm, I bet they are. You gotta be pretty achy with a fever like that”, Minho cooed, reaching for the shampoo. Gently massaging it into the boy’s scalp, Minho looked up when the bathroom door opened and Changbin quietly slipped in. He placed a stack of clothes onto the sink and smiled: “I got you a pair of Hyunjin’s sweatpants and one of Chan’s hoodies just as requested.” Making eye contact with Minho, the rapper added: “If you’ve got him, I’ll go and make more tea. Pretty sure we’ll need it.” – “Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Binnie”, the older agreed, reaching for the showerhead to rinse the shampoo out of Jeongin’s hair.
Changbin was glad that Jisung, Felix and Seungmin joined him in the kitchen, so he wouldn’t be stuck in his thoughts. Being the head-omega of the group, the rapper always worried about his mates and two of them falling ill stressed him out. Not because he didn’t think they could handle taking care of two people, he knew they could, but rather because he always felt deeply for the people around him and watching two of them suffer hurt his heart. Felix noticed Changbin’s tense shoulders and wrapped the older in a back hug. Releasing a breath, he didn’t even know he was holding, the rapper leant back into his dongsaeng’s chest. “They’ll be fine”, the Aussie hummed lowly before nuzzling his face against his hyung’s neck, scenting him lightly. The tension in Changbin’s muscles slowly melted away and he was able to focus properly on his task again. Jisung busied himself with fixing the nest as the blankets had gotten a bit messy with so many members sleeping in it for the night. Checking the fridge and kitchen drawers for light snacks, Seungmin noted that they were running out of crackers, so he refilled the rice cooker to ensure they’d have plain rice as a light meal for their friends to eat before taking medicine. When he was done, he informed Changbin he’d be heading out to get more crackers and sports drinks, maybe also pick up some more medicine, so they’d be all stocked up for the days to come.
Hyunjin had gone to check on Jeongin too and was glad he had because the poor boy had felt so dizzy upon sitting up, that it had taken both Minho and Hyunjin to maneuver him out of the tub. “Tummy doesn’t feel good”, the younger warned sluggishly, burping into his hand. Suppressing a curse, Minho quickly flipped up the toilet seat and Hyunjin helped him get their dongsaeng situated in front of it. They barely made it in time for Jeongin to retch up a thin trickle of stomach acid. The burning sensation in his throat was enough to bring the boy to tears again and Hyunjin gently combed his wet hair back with his fingers. Minho carefully draped the towel around Jeongin’s shoulders and rubbed his back through it, promising: “You’re okay, Innie. Deep breaths, hm?” He knew the boy had barely eaten anything and whatever might have been in him, he had already thrown up earlier, so this should be over quick. And it was, though it didn’t feel quick at all to Jeongin. His head pounded as his stomach uselessly clenched, trying to force something out that wasn’t there. By the time the heaves died down, he was spent. The two dancers made quick work of getting their dongsaeng dressed and the boy eagerly snuggled into Chan’s sweater, deeply inhaling the leader’s scent before Minho helped him use some mouthwash to get rid of the vile taste on his tongue. As Hyunjin picked Jeongin up, the maknae whimpered softly: “I-I wan’ Channie-hyung, please.”
“Let’s go and see if he’s awake”, Hyunjin cooed, carrying Jeongin out of the bathroom and down the hallway to their leader’s room. The maknae carefully opened the door as to not wake Chan should he be asleep. The oldest of course wasn’t asleep. The thought of him sleeping while knowing one of his dongsaengs wasn’t well was ridiculous. Naturally, he’d lay awake thinking, worrying. Seeing this, he was quick to sit up when he spotted Jeongin in Hyunjin’s arms and patted the spot next to him as an invitation. This was all Hyunjin needed to settle the maknae next to Chan. “Aww, my poor pup”, Chan rasped, opening his arms for Jeongin, who instantly snuggled up against the Aussie’s side, “I’m sorry, I got you sick too, Innie.” The youngest tiredly shook his head, arguing: “Don’t think it would’ve worked that quick. We probably caught it from the same person.” At least, that was what Jeongin would insist on, knowing his hyung would feel so much worse watching him suffer if he believed it had been his fault. “Can we cuddle, hyung?”, the maknae asked quietly, almost ashamed by requesting it but he craved some affection right now.
While Chan cuddled Jeongin, slowly easing the younger into a light slumber, Hyunjin joined the rest of the group. Seungmin had just returned, so him and Hyunjin sorted through his shopping bags, restocking the kitchen cabinets with light snacks and laying out medicine for later. Thanks to Felix, Changbin was a lot more at ease and when Jisung had finished fixing their nest, they had even managed to make their hyung laugh again. Once the rapper had finished making the tea, Minho poured two cups and went to Chan’s room. Quietly cracking the door open, the dancer discovered that Jeongin lay still in Chan’s arms, so he snuck in quietly and placed the cups onto the nightstand. Shooting his mate a grateful smile, Chan mouthed: ‘Thanks.’ Then the leader turned his focus back on Jeongin’s damp hair, smoothly running his fingers through it. He had missed holding his pup and though they had cuddled a bit last night, it had been rather cramped on the living room couch. Sometimes, Chan wondered what had become of the sweet boy they had gotten to know pre-debut. Ever since Jeongin had presented as an alpha, he had been feisty and savage, challenging boundaries and teasing his hyungs. Maybe Seungmin was a bad influence, the vocalist as savage as ever, raising their youngest to grow up just like himself. Was that a bad thing though? Chan surely didn’t think so, he loved all of his dongsaengs with all their funny little quirks.
One of Jeongin’s quirks was kneading. It always helped him calm down, which was why he had small squishy keychains attached to all of his bags and a few different stress balls on his bedside table for when he felt too anxious to sleep. The boy didn’t think his group was aware of the full extend of his habit though. When Jeongin slept, he often ended up kneading his pillows or blankets. It was embarrassing because he was a full-grown adult but acted like a pup. His group didn’t think so. They of course knew how important it was for their youngest to self-soothe, recalling all the times he had dozed off in a waiting room before performances, still kneading his keychain even in his sleep. That was why Chan internally cooed when he noticed Jeongin’s hand twitch in his sleep. Bunching up the corner of his blanket, Chan gently slipped it into the maknae’s hand. The boy made a soft noise in his sleep, squeezing the fabric before cuddling even closer to his hyung. ‘Adorable’, was all the leader could think, tracing shapes on the younger’s back. It had been way too long since the two of them had had some quality time and even though the circumstances were rough, Chan at least got to hold his pup again.
Chan himself had gotten close to drifting off again, when Jeongin stiffened in his arms, startling the leader. Glancing down at the boy, the leader found tears streaming down his dongsaeng’s face. He though the boy might have a nightmare and shushed him softly. Jeongin’s face contorted in pain, his knuckles turning white where he clutched the blanket as his breathing grew increasingly labored before cutting off. Oh no, not the cramps! “You’re okay, Innie. Try to breathe through it”, Chan whispered, lightly dabbing the tears away with his sleeve. Tensing up even more, Jeongin shook his head in desperation and gasped: “’t hurts s-so bad!” A sob tore from his throat and Chan’s hand went up to gently knead the overly tense muscles at the back of his dongsaeng’s neck. “I know, pup. Hyung knows”, he cooed, his heart aching, “Deep and steady breaths, so your muscles can relax. It won’t get better if you hold your breath, baby.”
Sniffling softly, Jeongin eventually started breathing regularly again, although a little shallow, once the cramp eased up a bit. Chan felt the boy’s forehead, despite having no judgement of temperature himself. He wanted to get the younger a hot water bottle to soothe the pain a bit but was afraid of making his fever worse. As if the heavens had heard Chan’s prayer, the door creaked open and Jisung popped his head in, having smelled the maknae’s distress. “What’s wrong?”, the rapper frowned, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. He studied Jeongin’s pale face, brushing a lone tear away. Barely holding back more tears, the younger whimpered: “Tu-tummy hurts… bad.” – “Cramps”, Chan hummed, carding his fingers through the boy’s hair, “Could you check how bad his fever is? I wanted to go and get him a hot water bottle but he still feels a little warm.” Jisung nodded and rested his palm against Jeongin’s forehead, biting his lip. “He still feels pretty warm”, the rapper hesitated, “Let me go get a thermometer, yeah?” The maknae gave a pathetic nod and buried his face in Chan’s chest as Jisung got to his feet and slipped out of the room.
To Chan’s surprise it was Changbin, who returned, holding up the thermometer. “Let’s see”, the rapper hummed, carefully inserting the device into his dongsaeng’s ear. When it beeped, the rapper clicked his tongue and mused: “I mean, it’s certainly high but if the pain’s that bad…. I think you can have a hot water bottle, at least for a little while. We have to check your temperature frequently though.” – “Mhm, jus’… please make it stop hurting so bad, hyung”, Jeongin cried, hiding his face as he roughly scrubbed the tears away. Chan caught the boy’s wrists and gently guided his hands away from his face, shushing: “You’re okay and it’s okay to cry.” – “Alright, should we get you to the living room?”, Changbin offered, wanting to keep a close eye on their maknae. Giving him a hot water bottle would be a risk but he should be fine if they monitored his temperature and made sure he wouldn’t overheat. Jeongin slowly shifted off of Chan and sat up, trying to scoop to the edge of the bed, so he could follow Changbin to the living room.
Just as Jeongin tried to straighten up, another cramp tore through his stomach, causing him to double over again, screwing his eyes shut. Tears spilled down his cheeks as Changbin eased him back onto the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulders to distract him from the pain. Chan scooted closer, running his hand up and down the maknae’s back. “I’m going to carry you there, okay?”, Changbin hummed, when Jeongin’s face seemed to relax a little and he opened his eyes. Sniffling softly, the boy hesitated. This was humiliating. He was a grown adult, he could walk. Sensing the youngest’s conflict, Chan offered: “You could go ahead and prep him a hot water bottle and I’ll carry him to the living room once he feels ready to move.” – “As long as I can’t be sure that you manage to walk down the hallway without falling over yourself, you are not carrying anyone anywhere”, Changbin deadpanned, taking a seat next to Jeongin, “It’s okay, pup. We’re in no rush.”
Giving Changbin a sad smile, Jeongin closed his eyes and leant into the rapper’s side. As he was slowly getting drowsy again, he could hear Chan argue with Changbin in a hushed tone, the pack-alpha sounding slightly offended. “No, hyung, because first of all, you’re sick and could get hurt and second, I will not risk you dropping my pup and have him get hurt”, the rapper sighed. Chan stared at his mate in disbelief, growling: “He’s still my pup and I would never drop Innie.” A small smile spread on Jeongin’s lips despite the pain and exhaustion. He usually did trust Chan not to drop him but if the leader felt anything like him right now, it already be impressive if the oldest managed to get himself to the living room, let alone someone else, besides, the maknae really didn’t want to risk Chan hurting himself in an attempt to carry him, so he tried to speak up and agree with Changbin but the pair wasn’t done yet. It was entertaining to hear the older two get all possessive, insisting that he was their pup, but he was still hurting and doubted he’d manage to get to the living room himself.
“Hyungs, my tummy still hurts”, Jeongin winced hesitantly, instantly catching their attention. Squeezing the boy’s shoulder, Changbin cooed: “I’m sorry, hyung got carried away. Let’s go and get you your hot water bottle.” The younger gave a shy nod and held on to Changbin’s shoulders as the rapper carefully scooped him up. He didn’t miss Chan’s betrayed look as he pouted at Changbin. “Hyung, come on. Let’s be realistic, hm? If you feel that energetic and steady on your feet, why don’t you come with us? The two of you can cuddle on the couch and I’m sure there are a few members who’d gladly keep you company”, the rapper sighed as he turned towards the door. All he got was a challenging look from Chan, so carrying Jeongin to the living room, he left Chan to sulk on his own.
Jisung was the first to notice them and shot Changbin a questioning look, holding up the empty hot water bottle. The older nodded, so Jisung set about starting the kettle. Hyunjin and Felix quickly made their way over to the pair. “Do you want cuddles?”, Felix asked softly, glancing towards their nest. It was an omega’s safest place, perfect to nurse a sick, young pup back to health. Craving affection, Jeongin nodded slightly, so Changbin climbed into the nest with his dongsaeng in his arms. The three omegas settled in comfortably around the maknae, releasing calm and comforting pheromones that made the boy drowsy. Minho and Seungmin glanced at their mates confused. Was Chan asleep? Their leader wouldn’t part with Jeongin that easily. While Jisung filled the hot water bottle and headed towards the nest to give it to his dongsaeng, the two decided they should probably check on Chan.
Passing the nest, Minho and Seungmin cooed. Jeongin had cutely curled up around the hot water bottle, his face so much calmer now though they weren’t sure whether it was the hot water bottle or his mates’ affection soothing the pain. The maknae lay in Changbin’s arms, Felix resting against the rapper’s side, so he could easily play with their youngest’s hair. Laying on the Aussie’s legs, Hyunjin drew shapes on Jeongin’s arm, while Jisung had the boy’s feet in his lap, lightly resting his hands on his dongsaeng’s ankle, so he could feel his presence. It seemed like the perfect time to spend some quality time as a group, considering how much Jeongin seemed to need his pack’s love right now, so Minho and seungmin should better collect their leader too. To their surprise, Chan was awake when they went into his room to check on him. How had the leader willingly parted with Jeongin. Chan lifted his head when he heard his mates approach and Minho was quick to realize, the older had not parted with Jeongin willingly. “Hey hyung”, Seungmin smiled, though it was a little forced with the tension thick in the air. The beta was usually a steady neutral when things got out of hand, so he had instantly taken the initiative talking to Chan, figuring it would only get worse if Minho, another alpha took charge. “Don’t you want to join us for cuddles?”, the second youngest continued, “You should suffer all by yourself, hm?”
At first, it seemed like Chan wasn’t going to reply at all but he eventually rasped: “’m not suffering.” – “You’re not?”, Minho frowned, raising an eyebrow. Glaring at the dancer, Chan repeated: “No, I’m not. What do you want?” – “We wanted to ask you if you wanted to join the rest of us for cuddles. That’s what I asked already but I’m figuring you don’t?”, Seungmin intervened. Exhaling slowly, Chan shook his head in defeat. Still, they could sense some longing in the Aussie’s eyes. To be honest, he didn’t look the slightest bit better to Minho and Seungmin. Deciding to be brave, Minho took a seat next to his hyung reached for his hand. It still felt pretty warm to him, so he gave it a light squeeze and softly asked: “What’s wrong, hyung?” Chan only shook his head and remained, glancing at his lap. Though he tried to somewhat turn his face away, Minho could see him bite down on his bottom lip hard. When the first tear fell from his lashes, Seungmin sat down on his other side and rubbed his back.
“I-I wouldn’t dro-drop my p-pup”, Chan sobbed, his voice cracking painfully. Squeezing his hand, Minho agreed: “You wouldn’t drop your pup, hyung. You’re way too protective to let anyone get hurt, hm?” The leader nodded, glad that someone finally saw the truth. “Bi-Bin said I’d – that I’d drop, I-Innie”, he admitted, his trembling hand reaching up to wipe at his eyes, “And then -then he jus’- just took him away.” Minho and Seungmin made eye contact, realizing that all of this was a misunderstanding. Seungmin could feel Chan’s fever through his shirt, so he was stunned when the oldest continued: “I wouldn’t drop him. I’m not even dizzy anymore, I feel fine.” Furrowing his brows in confusion, Minho hummed: “And he didn’t offer you to come along?” Still upset at the rapper, Chan shook his head but the others could see through his lie. There was no way, Changbin wouldn’t have asked him. The truth was, when Chan had tried to get up to follow them, he had felt faint and opted for sitting back down. That left him with no way of being with his youngest dongsaeng, which was inacceptable.
Realizing that two of his mates were now here taking care of him, Chan grew even more upset, mainly at himself though. Maybe Changbin was right and he couldn’t properly take care of Jeongin right now but that meant that he had to make sure the other members would be there to take care of their youngest. Right now, he was doing the exact opposite, making Minho and Seungmin take care of him and keeping them from being with Jeongin. Forcing in a deep breath, Chan tried to regain his composure. “Well, since we don’t want you sitting here on your own, suffering or not, do you want to come with us?”, Minho offered, glancing at Seungmin. Maybe it’d be best to just distract Chan for a while as it seemed the obvious fever was messing with his emotions. Why he hadn’t wanted follow Jeongin to the living room still remained a mystery to the. When the leader nodded, Seungmin asked: “Alright, what do you feel up for? Maybe you could start with having some food because you haven’t really eaten in a while since you’re not dizzy anymore, maybe your stomach will tolerate it now.”
Chan’s stomach dropped. He realized that if he wanted them to believe that he was recovered, he would have to play it off well but if he managed to do that, they’d turn their focus to Jeongin, who obviously needed their care a lot more. “Mhm, I really do feel better. Sure, I’m still tired because I didn’t sleep that well and my voice’s a little scratchy but…”, the leader lied, trying to seem enthusiastic about eating while his stomach turned at the mere thought of it. Not wanting to argue with their hyung when the older was so insistent about something, Minho and Seungmin got up and waited for Chan to do too.
Against his better judgement, the leader got to his feet and straightened up, hoping his mates didn’t notice how hard his hands were trembling as his vision darkened around the edges. They didn’t, too distracted by Chan’s complexion turning even paler. It made the feverish flush on his cheeks stand out more and Seungmin wondered when the older would own up to the way he felt and just go back to bed or let them help him to the living room. Minho knew though, that as an alpha, Chan would be too proud to admit to his lie and would most definitely see it through to the end if he didn’t pass out somewhere in between. The dancer chatted nonchalantly with Seungmin as the three of them made their way to the kitchen but kept a close eye on Chan, who didn’t seem as steady on his feet as he claimed to be. Frantically wiping at his eyes and cheeks, the leader tried to remove any evidence that he had been crying, not wanting the rest of the pack to know. He almost toppled over from doing so while walking as the ground seemed to move under his feet but was proud when they reached the kitchen without any incidents.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Chan leant against the kitchen counter and tried to play off just how shaky his legs felt. While Seungmin gathered some food for Chan to choose from, Minho tried to have a casual conversation, making the oldest believe his act was still strong. Having heard them in the kitchen, Felix carefully clambered out of the nest and rushed over to check on Chan. The alpha forced a smile as Felix joined them asking him how he felt. While the leader tried to swallow the lump growing in his throat at having to lie to the omega, Minho replied: “He said he’s feeling better, so we’re just finding him something to eat before he can come cuddle too.” Chan inwardly cursed the other alpha, the pressure to keep up his lie even higher now. “Oh”, Felix claimed, a little surprised but happy, “Glad you’re feeling better, hyung. Innie was asking for you but I think he already fell asleep.” That statement made the leader’s eyes sting again. His pup had needed him and he hadn’t been there.
“Here, do you want some rice, crackers or a slice of toast?”, Seungmin smiled, laying out the options. Feeling his throat tighten, Chan looked at the beta and stammered: “I-I think I’ll go with- with the rice.” His throat was still on fire and he doubted he’d even be able to swallow the toast. Nodding, the younger scooped some rice into a bowl and handed it to Chan, who shakily made his way to the dining table to sit down. Minho joined the older and handed him chopsticks, watching his hyung worriedly. Wanting to spend time with Chan now that he was better, Felix took a seat beside the leader and happily chatted with Minho about a choreography they had been working on. Nervously poking at the rice, Chan eventually lifted the tiniest bite to his lips and chewed very slowly. Having something in his mouth already felt so wrong and he could feel his stomach turn but he saw no way out of it now. “Are you okay, hyung?”, Felix asked worriedly, “Your tummy is pretty loud….” – “Mhm, it’s just rumbly because it’s empty”, the older lied but his tone was flat and Felix too slowly started to have his doubts. Yet, Chan kept eating, no matter how long it would take for him to finish his rice, he would do it, his mates would believe him that he was fine and they could all take care of Jeongin together.
That was easier said than done though and Chan’s determination slowly crumbled when he realized the bowl was still half full. Slowly breaking into a sweat, the alpha lowered his chopsticks and took a deep breath. The rice sat heavily in the pit of his stomach and he doubted he’d get another bite down. Felix worriedly rested his hand on Chan’s leg when the older placed down his chopsticks and closed his eyes, fighting for self-control. Resting his head in his hands, the leader took a few shaky breaths. He couldn’t do this. “Hyung, it’s okay if you’re not that well yet”, Minho hummed sympathetically but Chan shook his head. He was fine and he would somehow finish his food, he just needed a moment. When his mouth started to water, the leader pressed a tight fist to his lips, what little color he might still have had draining from his face fast. No matter how hard he fought it, Chan couldn’t hold back a gag, startling his friends.
“Sink!”, Minho urged, realizing the bathroom would be too far away. Clamping his hands over his mouth, Chan struggled to his feet and stumbled, glad that Felix caught him and helped him stagger towards the kitchen sink. His stomach lurched and he barely managed to lean over the sink in time as the rice rushed up his throat. Felix gently patted his back when the older coughed but helplessly looked at Minho. Hadn’t the older said he felt better? Minho was by their side in an instant, quickly wrapping his arm around Chan’s waist after seeing the leader’s legs tremble. Chan clutched the counter so hard, his knuckles turned white, as his throat strained with a forceful retch. His throat felt shredded yet he just couldn’t seem to stop trying uselessly. He barely managed to bring anything up besides the few mouthfuls of rice he had just forced down, cursing himself for going against his better judgement. Even when he was mostly empty, Chan kept coughing, the strain making his head pound and bringing tears to his eyes. It was hard to really get a full breath of air in, his stomach cramping up before his lungs could fill up.
“Try to breathe through it”, Felix whispered, a steady hand on Chan’s back as the alpha grew more worked up. He was hurting and he couldn’t breathe, his lungs not cooperating. Every cough threatened to make him sick again and he just couldn’t handle it anymore, feeling overwhelmed. The leader looked up with tears in his eyes when Minho nudged his hand, pressing a glass of water into it, which the older shakily lifted to his lips. Chan rinsed his mouth a few times before taking a small sip to help him stop coughing. It took a while but the fit eventually tapered off, the leader progressively slumping into Minho’s side as the second-oldest did his best to keep his hyung on his feet. Felix kept rubbing Chan’s back, while the leader sipped some water, but the omega was spooked, anxiously looking at Minho, praying the older had the situation under control because he himself surely didn’t.
The ordeal had zapped what little energy Chan may have had, leaving the oldest shaky and faint. His hand trembled, the water swishing around in the glass as his grip threatened to slip. “N-Need sit”, the leader slurred weakly as he set down the glass. Noticing how unfocused his eyes were getting, Minho hurriedly wrapped his arms around his hyung and lowered both of them to the floor. He propped the older up with his back against the cabinets, instructing: “Deep breaths, you’re gonna be fine. Just focus on catching your breath.” Panting, Chan tried but his vision was growing progressively blurry as he drew his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees, so he wouldn’t fall over. Felix crouched next to him and comfortingly messed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Talk to us, hyung. What are you feeling?”, the omega hummed, praying their hyung wouldn’t faint on them. Drawing a shaky breath, Chan muttered: “Dizzy. Thought- I-I thought, I’d faint but it’s getting better. Now, I just- I just feel really, really dizzy.”
When it seemed that Chan was in the clear, Minho got back to his feet and rinsed out the sink, the leader tiredly leaning against his leg. Felix continued to mess with his hyung’s hair and stroke his back, noticing how the back of the alpha’s shirt clung to his skin. Chan was burning, sweat running down his temples but at the same time he felt chilled to the bone. Seungmin watched them and went to get a fresh shirt for the alpha when he realized how much he was sweating. When he passed the nest on the way to the bedrooms, Seungmin noted with relief that at least some of them were able to rest well. Hyunjin and Jisung were completely knocked out, holding on to Jeongin, who slept peacefully in Changbin’s arms. They had been lucky that Jeongin had slept through the entire incident because if he hadn’t chances were high it would’ve set the maknae’s stomach off too. The rapper too seemed to be asleep, though he had merely been dozing and had listened to Chan being sick again. Holding the sleepy bundle in his arms, Changbin felt his heart ache. At least in his own eyes it would’ve been his job to be there for Chan, yet he was trapped and couldn’t get out of the nest.
“Hyung, do you feel okay enough to move?”, Seungmin asked quietly, “I fetched you another shirt ‘cause yours is completely sweat-through.” – “Thank you”, Chan sniffled before struggling to take his sweaty shirt off. Minho and Felix helped him as the sticky fabric clung to his skin and winced in sympathy as the leader shuddered. It seemed his fever was getting worse and now he didn’t even have anything in his stomach, so he could take some medicine. Seungmin guided Chan’s hands into the sleeves and carefully pulled the fresh shirt over the alpha’s head. He felt sorry that he couldn’t get the older a hoodie with how shivery he still was but was worried about his fever. Chan didn’t seem to fond of moving still, so Minho, Seungmin and Felix sat on the floor with him, as the leader tiredly rested his head on Felix’ shoulder. Watching the older worriedly, Minho hummed: “Why did you say you were feeling better, hyung? See where pretending you were got you.” A tear ran down Chan’s cheek and he wiped it away with his sleeve. “I-I want to either take care of Innie or have you guys take care of Innie for me but now you’re sitting here with me”, the leader whimpered, “You shouldn’t, I’m fine but my pup needs to be taken care of.”
The three sat in stunned silence before Felix frowned: “What are you saying, hyung? You’re not fine and we wouldn’t just leave you here by yourself. Innie is taken care of and sleeping soundly, just like you could if you weren’t so stubborn.” – “Lix is right”, Minho whispered, reaching for Chan’s hand, “I get why you would try to protect our youngest but hyung, here are still six healthy members. Don’t you think we can split up and take care of both of you? Yes, Innie is sick and needs to be taken care of but so are you and although you might manage to get by on your own, you deserve to be taken care of all the same.” He gave Chan’s hand a comforting squeeze as more tears dripped from his lashes but this time the leader didn’t bother to wipe them away. A chill ran down his spine, making Seungmin sigh: “I know you don’t want to move, hyung, but come on. We can get you somewhere more comfortable, your bed, the couch, the nest,… anything is better than the floor. You’re not going to feel warmer if you stay down here.” – “It’s okay, we won’t let you fall. I know it’s tiring but it will be worth it”, Minho promised, running his thumb over the back of Chan’s hand.
After some more prodding, Chan eventually had to agree to move, even if it was only because he felt so cold. His bedroom was out of question pretty quickly though, the distance way too far for his sore legs to cross. Leaning heavily on Minho and Seungmin, he managed to shuffle into the living room, where Felix helped him settle into the nest next to Changbin and Jeongin. “Hey”, the rapper whispered, reaching out to cup Chan’s cheek, “You know, I was just teasing, hyung. You always take good care of all the pups but you need to see your own limits instead of spreading yourself too thin, hm? We are here to help too, it’s not all on your shoulders. We’re a pack and we help each other. Yes, you’re leading us and we are glad to follow your lead but we’re still in it together.” The leader gave a small nod, resting his head on Changbin’s shoulder. It was still pounding and the omega’s calm presence seemed to soothe the pain a little. Maybe that was why Jeongin slept so peacefully. There was this safe aura enveloping the nest, no wonder it had knocked Hyunjin and Jisung out too. Chan wondered if this was all Changbin’s doing, the rapper having pretty strong pheromones considering he was an omega. It was shocking how calm and soothing Changbin always seemed to be when interacting with his pack. From the outside, he seemed intimidating and well, he could be if somebody threatened his dongsaengs but that didn’t happen often Chan’s glare usually stopping potentially dangerous people dead in their tracks. His pack knew him better though, his dongsaengs not in the slightest intimidated by him. They truly enjoyed roughhousing with their mate, who somehow was so in control of his strength that no one ever ended up hurt. Changbin was their steady rock, a secure presence to rely on, when things seemed to spiral out of control.
Deeply inhaling his dongsaengs’ pheromones, Chan wasn’t only exhausted anymore. A comfortable sleepy drowsiness had settled over him and when the other members joined them, he couldn’t even lift his head from Changbin’s shoulder anymore. Felix purred softly, curling up between his mates. In his sleep, Hyunjin’s hand found Felix’ and the Aussie linked their fingers before closing his eyes. Chan gave a content hum when Seungmin draped a blanket around his shoulders, trying to show his appreciation towards his dongsaeng despite being barely awake. The beta smiled, carefully tucking the edges of the blanket in. Gently caressing the leader’s cheek, Changbin whispered for him to finally go to sleep. Chan weakly reached out and took Jeongin’s limp hand into his, unintentionally causing the boy’s kneading instinct to start back up. A faint smile played around Chan’s lips as his youngest dongsaeng lightly squeezed his fingers. Surrounded by his pack, with his pup right beside him, the leader followed Changbin’s instructions and fell into a peaceful slumber.
“H-Hyung…. Hyung, please…” Chan woke up to Jeongin tugging on his sleeve. The maknae had tears streaming down his face and seeing this, Chan was suddenly wide awake. “Ssh, I got you, pup. Hyung’s got you”, the leader cooed, “What’s wrong, hm?” Choking on a sob, Jeongin whimpered: “H-Hurts.” The older felt his heart break and helped Jeongin shuffle out of Changbin’s arms. The rapper had long since fallen asleep like the rest of the pack, all of them falling prey to the warmth and dozing off. If only Jeongin’s cramps hadn’t returned with a vengeance. He had woken up not too long ago and tried to just breathe through the pain but it was impossible. “Do you feel sick too or just cramps?”, Chan asked softly as his dongsaeng curled up in his arms. The younger shrugged. Nothing felt right about his stomach but he didn’t know if he needed to be sick. Lightly sniffing Chan, Jeongin breathed: “Cramps an’ – fuck ow! – And tummy’s- tummy’s icky overall.” The boy gasped in pain, his grip on the leader’s arm tightening. More tears spilled down his cheeks and Chan was surprised that none of the other members had woken up by now.
When the cramp let up for a moment, Jeongin panted and weakly melted into Chan’s embrace. “Do you want me to rub your tummy or would touching it make it worse?”, the Aussie offered quietly. Instead of a verbal reply, Jeongin took his hand and guided it under his shirt. Afraid of hurting his pup more, Chan lightly drew circles with his palm, his hand only grazing the younger’s skin at first. The maknae sniffled tiredly, burying his face in Chan’s chest as the leader gradually increased the pressure, making sure the other was still comfortable with it. Jeongin’s stomach gave an audible growl before the boy tensed up, biting the cuff of his sleeve in an attempt to stay quiet. Gently tracing his hand over Jeongin’s tight middle, Chan whispered: “You’re okay, Innie. Try to breathe, hm?” The younger desperately shook his head. He couldn’t. It just hurt so bad, he couldn’t do anything but try not to cry out loudly. “I know, pup”, Chan cooed, pressing a light kiss to the crown of his dongsaeng’s head, “I know it hurts but you’re doing great. Just hang in there.” He kept tracing circles on Jeongin’s tummy and simultaneously rubbed his cheek against the other’s hair, lightly scenting him for comfort.
“Hyung, I- I don’t feel good”, Jeongin sniffled after about ten minutes. The cramps were slowly fading but they had wracked havoc on his poor stomach. His mouth was starting to water as the nausea grew. Brushing the younger’s bangs out of his face, Chan hummed: “Want the bucket?” Jeongin contemplated it for a moment but his friends were finally sleeping too after taking care of him and Chan and he didn’t want to wake them. “Bathroom?”, he requested, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d get there. Looking at the younger in surprise, Chan asked: “Do you think you can stand?” Jeongin gave a tentative nod, so the leader shifted him out of his arms and they both got to their feet. Clambering out of the nest, Jeongin almost knocked himself over but Chan was surprisingly steady on his feet and caught him. It seemed the adrenalin of watching his pup hurt was enough to help him function. Hunching over, Jeongin hugged his sore middle, while Chan linked their arms and slowly guided him to the bathroom. The maknae weakly sank to his knees on the rub and slipped his hand under his shirt to palm at his tummy. His throat still felt odd, like he was close to gagging but it didn’t seem to happen soon.
Chan gave Jeongin’s back a short rub before grabbing a washcloth and running it under cool water. He gently brushed the younger’s hair back with his fingers and dabbed the cool cloth against the boy’s forehead, cleaning away the sweat. “Close your eyes for me, pup”, Chan instructed quietly before wiping away Jeongin’s tears. The younger gave a tired sniffle as he curled up against the bathtub, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. Folding the washcloth, Chan draped it across the maknae’s neck and whispered: “Do you want hyung to get you some water? Maybe we can settle your stomach if you have a few sips?” Jeongin shook his head the tiniest bit. He didn’t want water. He didn’t want anything other than for all of this to stop.
Taking a seat next to his dongsaeng with his back against the bathtub, Chan tried to ignore his aching heart. He knew all to well how the younger was feeling and wished he could take it off of him. Jeongin leaned into Chan’s side and rested his head on the leader’s shoulder, closing his eyes. His stomach gurgled and he bit his lip at the discomfort, relaxing when Chan’s hand took a hold of his and gave it a light squeeze. Surprisingly, Jeongin managed to doze off after a while. Glad the boy was able to rest for now, Chan didn’t dare to move no matter how much his muscles were protesting their position. The floor wasn’t all that comfortable but he’d stay there all night if it meant Jeongin would get a chance to sleep off his illness. Considering how sore he felt, it was no wonder that Chan didn’t manage to drift off like his dongsaeng. The leader tiredly looked up and lifted one finger to his lips, when the door creaked open and Jisung slipped into the room. He had woken up not too long ago and found the two alphas missing from the nest. When they didn’t return after a few minutes, the rapper had decided to go looking for them.
“What’s going on?”, Jisung whispered, taking in the pitiful sight in front of him. Stretching his neck, Chan yawned: “Innie had really bad cramps and woke me. He felt like he needed to be sick, so we came here. Nothing happened and he fell asleep.” – “Aww, pup”, Jisung cooed, glancing at their youngest, “Should we get him back to the nest?” Furrowing his brows, Chan contemplated it but worried: “He’ll probably wake up if we try to move him and I’m so glad he’s sleeping for now.” The rapper nodded. Sleeping was probably the best thing for Jeongin right now, so they shouldn’t disturb him. “How are you feeling, hyung?”, Jisung asked softly. Giving the younger a small smile, Chan hummed: “I’m okay, I mean, achy all over and stuff. My head hurts but my stomach feels okay.” – “That’s good. You’re probably dehydrated, so your headache might improve if we can change that”, the younger smiled, “Since we’re going to hang out here for a bit, let me grab some stuff.” Chan only nodded tiredly, knowing there was no use in telling Jisung ‘no’. He knew he couldn’t do anything to stop the rapper and he wouldn’t listen if the older told him to go back to sleep, so why waste the energy trying.
Chan was surprised by how long Jisung was gone but maybe his perception of time was messed up. When the rapper eventually did return, he handed Chan a steaming cup, humming: “I heated up some broth, so you get the electrolytes too. Hope it’ll go easy on your stomach.” – “Thank you, Sung”, the alpha breathed, wrapping his hands around the cup. His fingers had felt a little cold, so this was nice. Jisung had also brought a blanket, which he spread over his friends’ legs, tucking it up around Jeongin’s shoulders. Luckily, the boy didn’t even stir. Admittedly, it was getting a little cramped in the bathroom with three of them settling in but Jisung didn’t want to leave his friends to their own devices.
Chan slowly sipped the broth his donsgaeng had brought him and relaxed as it helped him warm up from the inside. He wasn’t trembling with chills yet but being away from the nest and the warmth of their mates did leave him feeling rather cold, despite Jeongin’s feverish body pressed up against his side. Jisung could tell his hyung was feeling uncomfortable but he knew the older would be too stubborn and protective to risk waking their youngest in an attempt to get them somewhere more comfortable. “Hyung, I know it’d be risky for me to carry Innie back to the nest but maybe we could carefully trade spots. I can see that you’re hurting and if this is going well, Innie will hopefully sleep for quite a while. A while that you will be unable to shirt your position”, the rapper offered, “I’ll hold his head and shoulders, so you can slip to the side and I will take your spot.” – “I’m okay”, Chan disagreed but the pain was obvious in his tense expression, “It’d be too risky.” Jisung hadn’t expected for his hyung to go along with his idea, so he wasn’t upset but he had still wanted to offer.
After a while though, Chan seemed to change his mind. His muscles were on fire and it took him immense self-control to keep from squirming in pain. When he pleadingly glanced at Jisung, the rapper knew exactly what he wanted to ask but didn’t dare to. Taking the empty cup, Jisung whispered: “Let me refill this for you and then we can switch.” Chan nodded gratefully at the prospect of being freed from his position. He was glad the broth had settled so well, though he wasn’t sure he could handle another cup. Not long after Jisung had disappeared, he slipped back into the bathroom and placed the cup onto the sink before crouching in front of his mates. He carefully slipped his palm between Chan’s shoulder and Jeongin’s cheek before gently wrapping his arm around his dongsaeng’s shoulders and giving Chan a nod. The leader slowly pulled away and once he was sure Jisung had a secure grip in the maknae, he smoothly moved aside. Rolling his shoulders, Chan sighed in relief. He felt stiff and everything hurt but he could move again.
Chan got to his feet and tried to take over from Jisung as smoothly as he could, so the rapper could sit down. At some point, Jeongin stirred and picked up his head, so Chan let go of him, while Jisung quickly sat down next to the younger. “Ssh, go back to sleep, pup”, the leader shushed, guiding Jeongin’s head towards the rapper’s shoulder. Jisung purred softly, hoping the sound would keep his dongsaeng calm. It somehow worked and yawning cutely, Jeongin went back to sleep with his head on the omega’s shoulder. Before Chan could sit down, the rapper reminded: “Your broth.” Nodding in acknowledgement, Chan grabbed the cup and sat down, placing it next to him. The leader stretched his neck and shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension before taking a small sip from the cup. His eyes stung from the exhaustion and fever, Jisung’s soft purring not really helping him stay alert.
“It’s okay if you want to go back to the others and lay down, hyung”, the rapper encouraged but that was no option for Chan. Shaking his head, the alpha argued: “He got confused and upset when I wasn’t there when he woke up, so I won’t sneak away from him again.” – “That’s okay too”, Jisung smiled, taking Jeongin’s hand and drawing slow circles with his thumb. He chuckled to himself when the younger started squeezing his hand, the boy really was a pup at heart no matter how grown up he insisted to be. Stretching his legs out in front of him, Jisung used his free hand to pat his thigh and offered: “You wanna take a nap here with Innie? I’m not going anywhere.” Though tired, Chan gave a small laugh at that and after taking a few more sips, he placed down his cup and curled up on the bathroom rug, his head on Jisung’s thigh. The rapper had started to purr again as he ran his fingers through Chan’s messy curls, making the alpha drowsy. “You’re comfy”, the leader slurred, his eyes drooping as Jisung’s nails lightly scraped his scalp. Under the omega’s soft touch, Chan was out like a light within minutes.
It hadn’t taken Jisung long to fall asleep himself, the feverish warmth of his mates making him drowsy. Jeongin had eventually let go of his hand and instead grabbed his sleeve, bunching up the fabric between his fingers. When he woke up close to two hours later, the youngest felt flustered. He hadn’t meant for his hyungs to see his kneading. Well, maybe they hadn’t because it only started after they fell asleep? Glancing at the two sleeping figures, Jeongin couldn’t help but wonder how they had ended up there. Considering his fingers were still tangled in Jisung’s sleeve, he gave the rapper a little tug. Expectedly, nothing happened. Jisung had always been a rather heavy sleeper. Whining softly, Jeongin nudged the other’s arm and this time the rapper at least moved a bit, so he repeated his action. “Hmm?”, Jisung groaned, opening his eyes for a moment. Seizing his opportunity, Jeongin tugged on his sleeve again and whispered: “Hyung!” – “Huh, yeah? Wha’s wrong?”, the rapper slurred, opening his eyes though he was still a little bleary. “What are we doing here?”, the younger questioned, still confused by the setting. Sitting up straight, Jisung rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. He rubbed his face and yawned: “Having a sleepover, what does it look like?” When Jeongin pouted, he added: “You felt like you needed to be sick but fell asleep instead and we wanted you to stay asleep, so we couldn’t move you and just decided to join.”
Jeongin had more questions but both of them froze when Chan stirred. The leader eventually sat up and looked at them questioningly. “Everything okay?”, Chan hummed, his voice thick with sleep. He had an easier time waking up than Jisung, relieved to find his head not hurting as much as it had before. It seemed he had really been dehydrated because he felt less dead now and carefully reached out to smooth Jisung’s messy hair down. The rapper yawned, explaining: “Innie was confused how we ended up here.” – “Oh”, Chan frowned, surprised that his dongsaeng didn’t remember, “How’re you feeling, Innie?” The younger shrugged, avoiding Chan’s eyes. Fiddling with his sleeves, Jeongin admitted: “My tummy seems okay but…. Everything hurts, my head hurts and it’s mushy. I feel… slow. Like thinking… it’s hard.” – “Do you feel confused, pup?”, Chan asked gently, his voice soft and understanding. It was enough for a tear to drip from the maknae’s lashes. He didn’t know why he was so emotional but something about the haziness in his mind made him feel vulnerable. Jisung wrapped his arm around Jeongin’s shoulders, pulling him into his side.
After pressing the backs of his fingers to Jeongin’s forehead, Jisung hummed: “Still feverish but not too bad. How do you feel, hyung?” – “Better? I don’t know”, the leader shrugged, “My head hurts but not as bad. I’m still as achy but I feel more alert and not dizzy at all.” Jisung motioned for him to come a little closer and felt his forehead. “You too are still pretty warm but your eyes don’t look out of focus anymore”, the rapper stated. Chan nodded, adding: “My stomach feels alright and the broth stayed down. Maybe Innie’s dehydrated. Would explain why his brain is ‘mush’ even though his fever isn’t that bad.” – “Probably”, Jisung agreed, nuzzling his face into Jeongin’s hair, scenting him, “You wanna try and sip some broth too, Innie? Might help with the headache.” Jeongin shrugged, breathing: “I can stop if my tummy’s not happy about it, right?” – “Of course, you can”, Chan cooed, while Jisung continued to scent their youngest, “I really feel like it helped me feel more like myself, so maybe just getting some fluids and electrolytes into you could already make a big difference.” With the promise of not having to force himself, Jeongin agreed to at least try but wanted to enjoy Jisung’s affection for a little longer.
When he was ready to move from their position, Jeongin was facing another problem. Every fiber in his body burned and he doubted he’d be able to move at all. His legs shook when Jisung helped him to his feet and Chan was quick to support his other side. Whimpering, the maknae clung to his hyungs. His arms burned but he still held onto them, desperate to stay on his feet. Jisung was quick to scoop the boy into his arms, afraid he’d fall. When the rapper saw the protest in Chan’s eyes, he hummed: “Hyung, why don’t you go ahead and already warm up some broth for him?” At that, the leader nodded and rushed out of the bathroom, leaving Jisung to shake his head. He understood that as the pack-alpha, Chan felt especially protective of Jeongin and wanted to be the one taking care of him but he was still sick himself, despite feeling a bit better. The fever was still there and he should strain himself too much too early, especially not when there were other members who could help them out. It seemed Chan really needed to have a task, as his mind would otherwise convince him that he was useless and his pack didn’t need him. That was complete nonsense but the alpha often felt like he wasn’t enough for his dongsaengs, not good enough as a leader.
Jeongin nuzzled his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck while the rapper carried him. They could already hear the clattering of cups from the kitchen and wondered how no one else had woken up from it. Glancing at the nest, Jisung came to realize that all of them had woken up but didn’t want to interrupt Chan, who seemed on a mission. When the rapper saw the time on the clock in the kitchen, he paled. It was night and all of them had slept through the light afternoon and dinnertime. How could a whole pack have such messed up sleeping patters? Jisung carefully placed Jeongin into one of the seats at the kitchen table, the maknae instantly drawing his legs up to his chest. Making eye contact with Jisung, Minho smiled and joined them. The dancer ruffled Jeongin’s hair and cooed: “How you feeling, Innie?” The maknae shrugged, resting his head on his knees. “He has a bad headache and is pretty out of it. We figured he’s probably dehydrated so, he’ll try to have some broth”, Jisung explained, resting a comforting hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. Minho nodded and motioned towards Chan, raising one eyebrow. “He had two cups of broth earlier and said he feels better, though still a little feverish. Seems a lot more functional though, so I’ll believe him when he says he has improved”, the rapper smiled, Minho’s smile mirroring his.
“Gosh, I can’t believe I slept through dinner, like… How many hours were that? Too many to still be considered a nap, huh?”, Minho laughed, “We’re such a mess, all of us.” – “That’s not a bad thing”, Changbin said softly as he walked up behind the dancer. The other members had decided to give them some space, especially after Jisung said Jeongin was out of it. They were afraid of overwhelming their youngest when he was already so vulnerable. “We have a very strong bond, so it makes sense for certain situations to affect the entire pack”, Changbin explained with a soft smile, “Chan and Jeongin were okay for the time being and it was only convenient for everyone to get some sleep. That way we could restore our energy in case things got more chaotic or serious later on, making it impossible to sleep then. It’s an evolutionary thing, helping packs survive.”
Minho looked at Changbin with wide eyes. He had always known that the rapper took his position as head-omega very serious but he wouldn’t have expected the younger to be that well educated, it made him feel stupid in comparison. “Hey, pup”, Changbin cooed, crouching next to Jeongin. The younger looked at him with glossy eyes, too tired to even lift his head off his knees. Cupping his dongsaeng’s cheek, the rapper smiled: “Today has been a lot, hasn’t it?” Jeongin nodded. The omega’s voice was so calm and soothing, filled with understanding. “You’ll feel better soon, hyungs will make sure of that. Just hang in there, ‘kay?”, Changbin hummed, stroking the maknae’s flushed cheek. That was when Chan joined them with a steaming cup of broth. “Here, Innie. Just try taking small sips”, the leader instructed softly, “You can always stop if it doesn’t feel right. There’s no pressure.” Jeongin nodded, sniffling softly. Maybe Chan was right and he’d feel better afterwards. At least, the leader seemed to be doing better, so hopefully it would work for him too. With trembling hands, Jeongin accepted the cup and even managed to lift his head but was afraid he’d spill the hot liquid on himself if he tried to lift it. Picking up the boy’s struggle, Changbin took the cup from him and blew on the steaming broth before holding the cup to his dongsaeng’s lips. Jeongin took a tentative sip, relaxing as it warmed him from the inside. “Good job”, Changbin whispered, “Another one?” Once his dongsaeng had taken another sip, the rapper placed the cup down to give him a break.
Sniffling softly, Jeongin forced a smile and admitted: “Feels kinda nice. At least on my throat.” – “Yeah? That’s good”, Changbin smiled back, “Just try to take it slow, so your tummy doesn’t get overwhelmed.” While the rapper took his time feeding Jeongin the broth, Minho walked up next to Chan, quietly informing the leader that he’d be heading out to pick up dinner for the rest of the group. Their daily routine had been completely thrown off and none of them were in the mood to cook, so the dancer would get takeout for whoever was able to stomach it. Minho quietly asked the members what they felt hungry for and when he had everyone’s orders, he headed for the door. Rushing after the alpha, Felix quickly put on his shoes. “You shouldn’t have to go alone, hyung”, the Aussie beamed, making the older smile. The boy was just too pure. While the two were gone, the others tidied up the living room a bit. It had gotten a bit messy with the entire pack spending most of their time there and it would be difficult to feel peaceful in such a chaotic environment.
Seungmin stood in the kitchen ready to lay the table for when Minho and Felix would return with their late dinner, when Jeongin finally finished the last few sips of his broth. It hadn’t upset his stomach like he had feared it would but he had admittedly taken it pretty slow. “Do you want to lay back down? I don’t think you wanna be around when Minho-hyung and Felix return with food”, Changbin asked once Jisung had taken the empty cup to the kitchen. Jeongin only shrugged uncertainly. He didn’t really have the energy to do anything other than lay back down and get some more rest with how badly his head was still hurting but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to going back to their nest. That was a first for Jeongin but right now, his muscles were too sore. Rubbing his face, the maknae requested shyly: “Couch please?”
After a moment of shocked silence, Chan furrowed his brows, frowning: “You okay?” Jeongin remained silent. “What’s wrong, pup? You’re not acting like yourself”, Changbin asked softly, glancing at the nest. The maknae would always choose the nest whenever one of the omegas offered him to stay in one with them. Though his mind still felt slow, Jeongin knew he couldn’t tell his hyung that he didn’t want to stay in the nest. That was an incredibly hurtful thing to tell an omega and he knew his mates had built it for all of them to be comfortable. Changbin seemed to know what was on his dongsaeng’s mind though and hummed: “We shouldn’t have built it on the carpet, hm? You’re too achy, aren’t you?” At that, Jeongin broke into tears and buried his face in his hands. “I-I’m sorry”, the boy choked out, afraid he had hurt his hyung’s feelings with the rejection. “Why would you be sorry, pup?”, Changbin whispered, stroking the younger’s back, “We don’t want you to be in pain, so please, choose wherever you feel the most comfortable. If you want, you could also stay in my room. A bed would probably be better than the couch. The couch always leaves me achy, no matter how healthy I am.” The omega wasn’t wrong, their couch really wasn’t the most comfortable but Jeongin was still uncertain. He didn’t feel like invading Changbin’s privacy.
“How about I build a small nest on my bed? You can be all cozy for the night and we’ll be close by in case you need anything? I’ll stay out here in the living room for the night anyway and I know you love our nests”, Changbin offered. He had always found it endearing how eager Jeongin was to join any of them in their nests whenever they offered. The maknae thought he was discreet about it but to his mates it was obvious, so Changbin was sure the younger himself was far more heartbroken over not being able to go back to their nest than any of the omegas felt about the rejection. Jeongin’s hesitation and the conflicted look in his tired eyes told the rapper all he needed to know. He made eye contact with Hyunjin, the dancer smiling: “I got him, hyung. You can go ahead and collect some material. We’ll fix the nest later, so just grab what you need.” Changbin nodded gratefully, getting up and making his way to the living room. “Binnie-hyung will build a really cozy nest for you”, Hyunjin hummed, running his fingers through Jeongin’s hair, “Let me help you wash up a bit, so you can rest comfortably. Maybe we can also get you a different shirt, you’re sweating quite a bit.” – “Want Channie’s sweater”, the younger breathed, pouting up at the leader. Chan almost combusted at his dongsaeng’s cuteness and promised: “I’ll fetch one for you, pup. Go and wash up and I’ll be there.”
While Chan rushed to his room to pick out one of his softest sweaters for Jeongin, Hyunjin carefully picked the maknae up. Once the dancer had carried his dongsaeng to the bathroom, he settled the younger on the rug. With the boy still a little dizzy, he propped the younger up against the bathtub before helping him take off his shirt. Hyunjin took a washcloth and wet it with lukewarm water. Already having felt a little cold before, Jeongin instantly shivered as soon as his shirt was off and he frowned when his hyung approached him with the washcloth. They had previously stuck to cold water in order to bring his fever down, so he wasn’t looking forward to the cold touch. “It’s warm”, Hyunjin cooed, when he noticed the other’s frown, “Don’t worry, pup. Let’s get this over with quick, so you can put on Chan-hyung’s sweater and lay down.”
The dancer had made quick work of washing Jeongin’s face and wiping down his back and arms. While he patted the other down with a towel, Chan joined them, carrying an oversized sweater. The leader’s heart broke when he watched the youngest shudder, so him and Hyunjin carefully slipped the sweater onto their dongsaeng before they helped him to his feet. Stumbling a little, Jeongin clutched his hyungs’ arms and was glad when Hyunjin picked him up again. Sure, it was humiliating but he was too exhausted to care. “Let’s find Changbin-hyung, hm?”, the dancer smiled, when the younger nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. Jeongin tiredly sniffed him, relaxing as he inhaled the omega’s sweet scent. The trio quietly joined Changbin in his room and Jeongin gave a shy smile when he realized the rapper was almost done with the nest. It was already an honor for an alpha to be invited into an omega’s nest but to have a nest built specifically for them was a whole new level and Jeongin couldn’t help but wonder how he could be lucky enough to be that loved by his pack.
“Hey, you ready to go to sleep?”, Changbin asked softly once he had arranged the last blanket. Fighting back a yawn, Jeongin nodded cutely, making his hyungs coo. Hyunjin placed him down in the center of Changbin’s bed and Chan stepped forward, taking the maknae’s face into his hands. Gently kissing Jeongin’s forehead, the leader whispered: “Good night, pup. Don’t hesitate to wake hyung should you need anything, yeah?” – “You can wake any of us”, Hyunjin added, stroking the young alpha’s hair, “We don’t mind, we just want to be there for you, so you can get better.” Once the two had bid Jeongin goodnight, Changbin took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched his dongsaeng curl up between the pillows and blankets. Gently running his fingers through the maknae’s hair, Changbin smiled: “They are right, Innie. We’ll be in the living room, so really close by. You can just yell if you need anything, okay?” The younger nodded, so Changbin got up and turned to leave. He was stopped immediately when Jeongin quietly called his name. “Hyung, can you scent me?”, the boy requested, the rapper’s sweet pheromones were always so soothing and maybe he wouldn’t feel as lonely if the scent lingered for a little longer.
Changbin complied in an instant, wanting Jeongin to feel as comfortable as somehow possible. Minho and Felix had already returned and the rapper could hear the clattering of plates from the kitchen. Sure, he felt pretty hungry, yet he took his time. Affectionately scenting his dongsaeng at a slow pace, Changbin purred softly and watched how the younger’s eyes started to droop shut. Jeongin tried to stay awake just a little longer to soak up as much of the affection as he could but he was unable to resist sleep creeping up on him. When the rapper was sure Jeongin was asleep, he covered him with a thin blanket and snuck out of the room to let the boy rest. To his surprise, Chan had joined the rest of the pack at the dinner table. Though he only had a bowl of plain rice in front of him, the smell of food didn’t seem to bother him, so maybe he’d really be able to keep something other than just broth down. The pack-alpha shot Changbin a smile when the younger took a seat and accepted the plate Minho handed him. It felt like the chaos was slowly dying down, things going back to normal. Having a meal together with most of the members present surely felt like a step in the right direction, even if it was an odd time to have dinner.
Considering they had spent most of the afternoon sleeping, it came as no surprise that none of the members felt remotely tired after they finished their meal, so after washing up, they settled back into the nest in the living room and prepared to watch a movie. Though Chan’s fever still lingered, he had been able to keep down the small serving of rice and sipped a cup of ginger tea, while Jisung and Seungmin discussed different anime they had wanted to watch for a while. The leader easily drowned out their bickering, not really caring what they were going to watch. His mind was mainly with Jeongin sleeping soundly in Changbin’s room. It felt so wrong to Chan to leave their youngest all alone when he was sick but maybe some undisturbed rest was just what the maknae needed.
Chan startled when something cold touched his neck and Minho chuckled: “Relax, hyung.” The dancer had brought a cold washcloth and draped it across the back of Chan’s neck. “Since your stomach seems to be doing better and you’re already working on getting rehydrated, so I figured we could try and get your fever to break”, Minho explained, taking a seat next to his only hyung. Nodding slightly, Chan breathed: “Thanks, Min. Hope Innie’s doing okay too. It’s been quiet, so I don’t think the broth he had is giving him any trouble but…. It’s hard not being with our pup.” – “I know, hyung, I know”, the younger sighed, guiding Chan’s head down onto his shoulder, “Changbin and Felix already plan on checking on him periodically, so don’t worry too much.” The leader acknowledged it with a hum, relaxing as he leant into Minho’s side. The cold cloth seemed to ease the lingering headache or maybe the medicine he had taken after their late-night dinner was starting to kick in but either way, Chan felt better than he had in a while and he was content to just sit with his group while the opening of an anime played.
Though Chan hadn’t felt sleepy, he drifted off about halfway into their movie, his head resting on Minho’s shoulder. Just like they had promised, Changbin and Felix took turns quietly sneaking out of the nest to check on Jeongin. In the early morning hours, Felix had been able to sweettalk his dongsaeng into nibbling a few crackers and taking some medicine. After that, the Aussie had draped a cold washcloth over Jeongin’s forehead and petted his hair till the boy went back to sleep. When he returned to the living room, Seungmin was standing over Chan and Minho, carefully trying to insert the thermometer in the leader’s ear without waking him. “Seems like his fever finally broke”, the vocalist whispered, placing the thermometer on the coffee table before shooting them a smile. At least one of their sick mates was recovering well. It was already close to sunrise when the rest of the pack finally went to sleep too curled up around each other.
Hyunjin awoke close to noon, when someone tripped over his leg. The dancer sleepily looked up and smiled, watching Jeongin climb over the sleeping bodies of his hyungs to curl up next to Chan. In his hands, the maknae clutched one of the blankets from Changbin’s room, gently kneading the fabric as he nuzzled his face into the leader’s side. Seemingly sensing the presence of their dongsaeng next to them, Changbin started to purr, the low sound waking Felix. When the omega noticed Jeongin, he quietly made his way over to the boy, running his hand down the other’s back. Jeongin sleepily lifted his head to look at Felix, giving the dancer the chance to feel his forehead. “Good morning, Innie”, the Aussie whispered, “You feeling okay?” The younger nodded, still drowsy and not nearly awake enough for a conversation. Cuddling back into Chan, Jeongin closed his eyes and went back to sleep while Felix traced shapes on his back.
When Felix had last checked, Jeongin had still felt pretty warm to the touch, which unsurprisingly didn’t change after he cuddled up between the rest of the members. Chan felt flustered when he woke up to find the younger snuggling against him, the other members slowly waking up too, cooing at he adorable sight. “Good morning”, Changbin yawned, “How’re you feeling, Chan-hyung?” The leader shot him a smile, humming: “Pretty normal, maybe even a little hungry.” – “Mhm, your fever broke last night, so you should regain your energy over the next day or so”, Changbin mused, his eyes scanning over the rest of the pack. All of his mates seemed to be safe and okay, the omega relaxing as a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. He reached over to feel Jeongin’s forehead, commenting: “Still warm but nearly as bad as before. Is it just me or does his skin color also look a little healthier than yesterday?” – “It’s not just you”, Jisung denied, “Innie’s not so awfully pale anymore and the flush on his cheeks is fading.” As if he had heard his name, Jeongin lifted his head and blinked at the rapper. “Good morning, pup”, Chan cooed, smoothing the maknae’s hair down, “How’re you feeling?” The younger only yawned before nuzzling his face into Chan’s chest, clumsily scenting the leader. Pressing a kiss to Jeongin’s disheveled hair, the oldest let him continue his scenting and enjoyed the warmth of his pack for a little while longer before they would try getting some porridge into Jeongin, so he too could regain his energy soon.
#stray kids#skz#fanfic#fluff#comfort#sickfic#fanfiction#sick#emeto#omegaverse#abo#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#jeongchan#angst#angst with a happy ending#skz angst#one shot
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Month of Sick 2024 Day 3: Bad News(ish)
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@monthofsick
Iron man and Spider-Man. Choose your own timeline.
Warnings: emeto, high school drama
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Something seems off with the kid. Tony can sense it before the door to the lab whirrs slowly shut and seals like a hydraulic bathtub.
He can’t stand slamming. Not that Peter would dare to make an entrance with a bang. When the kid was first starting to visit him in the lab, Tony thought the mouse creeping was some sort of respect thing. Then he’d realized it was probably an apartment thing. Topics like housing inequality and wage gaps set angry, brain-eating larvae loose in his prefrontal cortex.
Tony usually fills the holes with a few spontaneous donations to institutes of higher learning. His fingers twitch toward his keyboard, but he rests a millimeter above the touch screen. Tony doesn’t want Peter to catch him throwing cash around, even therapeutically. That would just throw the kid-money-apartment guilt trip back into motion. At least Peter will be prepared for the niceties of life in a college dorm. It’d taken Tony a couple times around the block to recognize and participate in the etiquette of close quarters. And, of course, to start holding himself to the same standard he expected of everyone else. Hence his objection to doors noisily bouncing off walls.
Peter exhales slowly. “Hey, uh, Mr. Stark.”
The kid’s sneakers come to a halt, and he stands a respectable distance from Tony’s elbow. Something hangs in the space between them. The air feels charged with electricity. Is this what the tingle, the spider-sense feels like? Tony has never coveted Peter’s powers. He’s glad to stick with good ol’ observation and inference. He’s just a little proud how naturally the scientific method flows toward the correct conclusion. Like the fact that Peter’s anxious as fuck. And he’s been skating on carpet in wool socks. Or combing his hair without adding product. Tony grounds his feet and puts his hands on his knees, just in case the static bursts into an electric shock.
“Yeah?” Tony replies. He holds his gaze on the holographic screen in front of him for a moment, for the sake of normality. If he replies too quickly, he might tip the balance and bring on the thunderbolt. Tony cringes internally as he imagines Peter burned to a crisp. Or maybe a small pile of ash.
It would be the ash, for sure. Now that Tony’s turned to look at him, he considers his hypothesis confirmed. The kid’s pale. His hair sticks to his glistening forehead. His shoulders move up and down with every breath, which comes out loud and shallow. Bronchitis, Tony guesses. Depends on whether or not Peter’s running a fever. He could have FRIDAY run a scan in seconds. He could probably write a program for a chest x ray as well, but he doesn’t think breaking the eye contact is a good idea for now.
“Pete?” Tony asks cautiously. He tries to keep his concern out of his voice. “Did you run here or something? Why? It’s cold and brrr.” Tony mimes shivering and crossing his arms for warmth. “I thought track and field didn’t start until spring.” He eases up. If he talks too much, Peter will just start nodding in pseudo agreement.
“No, I, uh,” Peter stammers. “I took the bus.” He jerks his head suspiciously over his shoulder. “Do I smell like the bus?”
Tony keeps a straight face. He fights the urge to breathe in through his nose but eventually needs to rearrange what’s certainly a stony expression. He tries not to sniff too hard, then sets it off with a gentle smile.
“But do I, like…?” Peter trails off, lifting one arm. He presses his lips together, and the palest blush colors his nose and cheeks. If anything it makes him look sicker.
“You smell like… Rolaids, cinnamon, carnauba wax, and…pie crust?” There’s also a tinge of sour stress sweat, but Tony decides not to mention it. This whole topic of body odor is a surface issue. Meaningless chatter. Tony hopes his answer helps to loosen whatever’s got Peter so constricted, though he worries it might just pull it tighter.
“Hm.” Peter takes another audible breath, then nods. “Yeah, that’s—um, good.” He drops his arm back to his side, where he immediately begins picking at a rivet on the pocket of his jeans. “I was at Ned’s. His grandma was making emanadas. And she has those big glass candles with, like, the virgin Mary, you know?” The kid tries for a casual laugh, but he hiccups when he takes in a breath. He releases the rivet and puts his hand over his abdomen.
Tony wants to thump the kid on the back, but now’s probably not the right time to introduce physical contact. Tony doesn’t like to be handsy. Peter might have germs. The hand sanitizer is too far across the lab bench, and reaching for it now would be downright offensive.
“Ned’s house sounds great.” Tony says, filling what would be an awkward pause as Peter collected himself. The anxiety’s still coming off him in waves. Tony watches Peter’s shoulders quiver.
Tony ditches any remaining decorum and asks, “Hey, is your stomach bugging you?” He’d initially left is comment about Rolaids alone. They’d seemed like kind of a personal thing. He leaves a moment for the kid to respond, perhaps if time is of the essence to get to a bathroom or something, but Peter doesn’t say anything. He just swallows, then looks up without meeting Tony’s eye.
“Too many empanadas before the bus ride?” Tony offers.
“Hm… no.” Peter twists his lips, but settles on neither a smile nor a frown. It seems like he’s making his mouth as small as possible. “Yeah, I’m, like, I keep tasting lunch, but it’s, like, I’m fine.” The kid laughs again, sounding just as congested. “That’s probably TMI. Sorry.”
Tony shrugs. He doesn’t love discussions about acid reflux, but if that’s the problem… At least it’s a straightforward problem, but Tony has a feeling that’s more of a side effect. The real issue is something much deeper.
“They weren’t real Rolaids.” Peter blithers on. “Some kind of off brand…I got them at the bodega for, like, three bucks. I don’t think they actually work.” Peter catches himself and continues, “Not that I feel sick or anything. Just kinda—“ He removes his hand from his stomach and wavers it in midair. “I don’t know if the CVS ones are any better, or if it has to be, like, brand name…” Peter trails off nervously.
“If you do feel sick, we can fix that. Medicine cabinet in the ‘s pretty stocked ” Tony clasps his hands and rests his chin on his knuckles. “What’s going on, Pete?” Tony asks. “You don’t look so good. I mean, you smell fine, but…” Tony shrugs again. He doesn’t want Peter to feel interrogated, but if they can get to the heart of the matter… Maybe the kid will stop looking like he’s going to shit himself.
“I…” Peter hesitates. “I don’t feel really good.”
Tony can’t hold himself back anymore. “FRIDAY, run a temp scan.”
“Oh, no, I don’t have a fever.” Peter shakes his head, but the AI begins to glow, running a thin red line floor to ceiling and back again.
“Temperature scan complete,” FRIDAY reports. The outlines of two human bodies appear on the screen; temperature readings appear beside each in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.
Tony doesn’t even glance at his information. He squints in confusion when he reads Peter’s, though.
“98.7…” Tony muses. Maybe the kid isn’t incubating a bug. “How about heart rate?” Tony requests.
More numbers appear beside each figure. Tony blinks to be sure he’s reading the measurement correctly. The kid’s reads 130. Peter’s more than wound up. He’s about to blow his circulatory system.
Peter’s powers raise his metabolism, Tony reminds himself. But not that much. He’s pretty sure there are defibrillator paddles in the lab somewhere.
“Your heart rate is rising really fast.” Peter points to the pulsating heart icon beside Tony’s outline. “Is that, like, not good?”
“Oh—“ Tony backhands the air in front of his face as if batting the kid’s comment out of the way. “Forget me. Look at yours! That’s what’s not good. You’re stressing me out.”
“I told you. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Tony says firmly. “Are you scared or something? Is this- I don’t know- a panic attack?”
“Um, I don’t—” Peter gulps, then pulls his lips into a straight line. “I guess kinda stressing too.”
“What about?” Tony braces himself. What bothers highschoolers these days? Tony thinks to his own teenage experience, but he was so detached during that phase of life. He had nary a responsibility. His parents were still alive. Peter doesn’t even have that to lean back on. A rush of belated empathy hits Tony in the chest and leaches into his heart. The shot is not full of flesh-eating parasites this time. It hits hard and heavy, adding a terrible weight and increasing his worry.
Peter sighs. He puts his hands over his eyes. “Ok, ok. But please don’t get mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” Tony’s still focused on the possibility of a serious health incident. Even if the kid did it to himself, he’s far more concerned about the fallout than the details. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re probably going to be totally disappointed.” Peter keeps his eyes covered. “I—I don’t think I made it into MIT.”
“You don’t think?” Tony repeats. “What, did you get a letter or something? They didn’t waitlist you, did they?” He does feel his temper begin to rise despite himself. Not toward the kid, though. What kind of signature-stamping admissions officer would put Peter’s application in the ‘maybe’ pile? His grades, coupled with his experience, should blow anyone out of the water.
“No. I don’t think so. But maybe? I didn’t think of that.” Peter says in a rush.
“What do you think?” Tony presses. He glances at the flashing numbers of Peter’s heart rate again. “Tell me.”
The kid takes a shaky breath. “Ned and I made this, like, pact thing, that we would tell each other at the same time, If we got in. After we’d both gotten our letters.”
“Ok…” This is clearly background. Tony waits for the hammer to fall.
“I kind of accidentally found out about Ned. Just now, at his house. He got his MIT letter. And I saw it. I saw Ned’s letter. But like, not really, exactly.” Peter wrings his hands and cringes. It’s like he’s trying to minimize his involvement in a crime.
Tony’s heavy heart throbs with empathy. If he were a cop, he’d let the kid off. He nods, and Peter keeps talking.
“It was just the envelope, though. But it had the logo and the return address and everything. And it was a big fat envelope. So he got in. They sent him the whole admission packet thing. I know he got in.” Peter bites his lip. “Denials come in tiny envelopes, right?”
“Usually,” Tony replies. “Bureaucratic shit.” He rolls his eyes, but immediately realizes he’s being too flippant. He straightens up and looks into Peter’s eyes. His lower lids glisten with unshed tears. “Why does that make you think you got denied?” Tony asks slowly. “I get that your big reveal is sort of ruined, but did your letter—“
Peter cuts him off, his cheeks burning red against his pale face. “That’s just it. I haven’t gotten my letter. Ned’s, like, two streets away, and I’m pretty sure we have the same mail carrier person, so if Ned got his, like, yesterday or today, mine should’ve come too.”
“Well—“ Tony intends to inject a little logic and reassurance, but the kid keeps going.
“I don’t know what kind of envelope they sent, I mean, like, whether I got in or not, and it’s—it’s— just too much, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and my stomach’s, just, like,” Peter pauses and contorts his face, his fingers slowly closing into a fist, “It’s making me all messed up. It might actually be making me making me sick. I think—maybe — I could, like—puke—or something—“ The kid wraps both arms tightly around his middle, then reconsiders and presses a hand over his mouth.
“Ok, ok,” Tony says, making placating gestures while looking wildly around the lab for a trash can. There’s one under the desk on the other side of the room. Definitely not helping. And it’s too late anyway.
Peter leans forward and retches. Vomit dribbles from his palm and drips down his chin. He makes an apologetic sound, but it’s lost in the next upcoming heave.
“You’re good.” Tony stands, sending his stool rolling backward under the lab bench. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh,” the kid groans. His shoulders lurch, and more splashes down into the puddle growing around his feet. “‘M really sorry.”
“Don’t be, really.” Tony tentatively pats Peter’s shoulder. For now, he’s providing comfort. But Tony’s poised to catch the kid if he slips or starts to pass out.
Peter hiccups. Then he gasps, and his entire body shudders.
“Pete?” Tony moves sideways so he can get a look at the kid’s face. He’s still pallid, but now his eyes and nose are red as well. The impending tears are now running down his face.
“It’s ok,” Tony intones. “Really. We’ll get through it.” They’re just words, but he means them. Truly. Deeply.
Peter splutters, then spits on the floor. “Sorry,” he says again. “That was, like, really gross.”
“Eh.” Tony shrugs. “Feel better?”
“Uh, no.” Peter’s voice is hoarse, and it sounds like his mouth is still wet and stringy. “I mean, yes,” he amends quickly. “But, like, not completely?”
“Stomach is better, but the stress is still there?” Tony interprets.
“Yeah.” Peter sighs. “I’m, like…” he shakes his head.
“You’re going to be ok.” Tony gives the kid’s shoulder a squeeze, then points him toward the couch against the wall. Once he’s sure Peter is steady on his feet, Tony follows, dragging his stool along behind him.
Once they’re both sitting, Tony points at the bot positioned by the desk. He clicks his fingers. “Hey. You. DUMM-E.”
The robot whirrs and spins its tires.
“Mop,” Tony commands. “Now,” he pauses, then adds, “please.”
DUMM-E clips the wall with a loud scraping sound, but soon they can hear the squish of a wet mop against the floor.
Tony rests his elbows on his knees again. It’s his best calm, listening posture, he thinks. That’s what he wants, anyway. He doesn’t have a default reaction to stress-puke. Tony tries to be calming and an active listener. Maybe a sounding board. He wants to be whatever the kid needs, and, to be honest, he isn’t sure what that is.
“God, I’m…” Peter looks at the floor and shakes his head. He’s trembling and still suppressing sobs. “Sorry.”
Tony leans in and speaks quietly. “You’ve got to stop saying that. I don’t care. I have the bots to deal with the small stuff. Gross stuff.” He shrugs. “Whatever.”
DUMM-E makes a reproachful swivel and whir, but Tony ignores it.
Peter sniffles, but doesn’t say anything.
“Alright, I’ll start,” Tony says. “I’m going to skip the sappy stuff. But I am going to ask you the annoying questions.”
Peter nods without looking up.
Tony puts his hand up to count on his fingers. “Did you check your mail today? Or just Ned’s?”
“I checked,” Peter replies in a monotone. “Well, actually I texted May and asked her to check.” He meets Tony’s eyes for a brief moment. “So, well, basically.”
“Alright.” Tony nods curtly and puts one finger down. “Do you know the timing of your mail carrier’s route?”
“It’s, um, in the morning? Usually?” Peter wipes the back of his hand under his nose.
“Ok.” Tony puts down his second finger. “Have you…” Tony pauses. He can’t remember the next question. He’s sure there’s another. It’s on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m so doomed,” Peter whispers. “I’ve totally failed you, Mr. Stark. If you don’t want me to go on missions anymore, it’s ok.”
“Hey, stop that. I’ll still care about you if you don’t get into MIT.” Tony lets out a breath. “There, now you’re making me say sappy stuff.”
“I’m sorry.” Peter’s face folds and tears start falling again.
“It’s ok. It’s ok, really.” He has another question. He does. He just needs to concentrate. Emotions rattle between the holes tunneling away his brain. “Umm…” Then it comes to him. It’s so stupid simple. He should’ve asked it first. “What address did you give them? On your application?”
“Huh?” Peter squints, then blinks wetness out of his eyes.
“Did you put your address? Like your apartment?” Tony specifies. “Or did you put this one?” He points at the floor. “The tower. I get a few other people’s mail here. People without permanent addresses. Like Thor.”
“Thor gets mail?” The kid asks.
Initially, Tony isn’t sure if he should answer. Would Peter feel like he’s distracting him on purpose? “So much mail.” Tony chooses to go with the flow. “And he reads all of it. He sits there for hours. Eating out my fridge.” Tony hazards a smile, but continues to make haste. “What about your mail. Do I get your mail? I can’t remember.”
“Oh.” Peter covers his mouth.
Tony prepares himself for another round of puking.
“I think…” Peter murmurs, “I think, maybe, yes?”
Tony can barely hear him; the kid’s voice is both quiet and muffled. But he sees the expression on Peter’s face. Surprised. Hopeful?
“I think I put this address. Because it was all official and everything?” The kid raises his head. “I think I probably did.”
“Ok,” Tony says. “Well—“
“You must think I’m so stupid.” Peter seems on the brink of tears again. “Oh my god—“
“Stop talking.” Tony doesn’t mean to make it an order. Well, perhaps he does. Just a little. He stops barely a second, then issues another. “Why don’t you run up the stairs and check the mailbox?”
“What? You think it came here?” Peter jumps to his feet.
“Go see. It’s right at the end of the driveway.” Tony points to the door.
Peter takes off at a sprint. His shoes squeak halfway across the floor. It’s still damp from its recent mopping.
Tony looks down at his watch. He gives the kid a 30 second head start. Then he swivels his stool around. “FRIDAY?” he asks.
“Yes, boss?” Tony swears he senses excitement in the AI’s tone.
“Pull up the security cam feed. I want a good look out front.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#month of sick#day 3#month of sick 2024#bad news#sickfic#emeto#spider-man#iron man#Marvel#mcu
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⋆ Taken Care Of ⋆
KYOYA X TAMAKI
Sickfic, you know the drill. Kyoya wakes up feeling on the verge of death (he has a minor illness), Tamaki insists on taking care of him. Set in the future when they’re both adults with jobs, no specific age, marital status or job clarification so go crazy with your headcanons I guess.
WARNINGS: The illness is unspecified but similar to the flu I guess, if you require specifics. I don’t think an emeto warning is necessary, there’s no vomit but possible slight reference to it?? Pretty easy to miss if that kind of thing doesn’t bother you, but I thought I should still mention it just in case. Pretty vague about sickness overall to be honest.
WORD COUNT: 1340
WILL BE POSTED ON Ao3 AND WATTPAD AT A LATER DATE AND EDITED AT THAT TIME WITH LINKS. THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!
Kyoya felt awful.
From the second he awoke he was hit with a searing pain in his forehead, which, as he discovered when bringing up a hand to grasp it in a futile attempt to calm the aching, was drenched with sweat. He nestled down into his blankets for a second, allowing himself a moment's relief before he got up to face the day. As terrible as he felt, and as much as he detested waking up this early, he simply couldn't be late for work. The very thought of leaving his bed was daunting — he was already far from being an early riser, but the condition he was in wasn't helping with that in the slightest. Still, he mused with a soft groan, if he didn't get up now he wasn't sure he ever would.
Reluctantly, Kyoya swung his legs out of bed and stood up — only to immediately stumble back onto the bed, vision blurred and stomach lurching. This movement seemed to wake up Tamaki, who stirred beside him with a confused "mrph?"
"Go back to sleep, Tamaki, you don't have to be up yet," Kyoya attempted to assure him, surprised at the raspy voice in which his words were spoken. He didn’t understand. He'd been fine last night, if a little more drowsy than usual, but now the very act of speaking felt akin to swallowing sandpaper.
Tamaki, ever-compassionate and caring for his partner's wellbeing, very annoyingly ignored him. "Kyo, are you okay?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes before looking worriedly at his partner. "You don't sound too well."
"I'll be fine," Kyoya insisted weakly. He tried once more to stand up, but every fibre of his body seemed intent on pulling him back down. "Just ... give me a second."
"You look terrible," Tamaki continued, lifting a hand to press against Kyoya's face. Kyoya couldn’t resist leaning in to the touch. "You feel terrible. You're boiling!"
"It's fine. I don't even feel too warm," Kyoya said, thinking it best to leave out the perhaps more concerning detail that he was, in fact, shivering.
Tamaki removed his hand to instead wrap his arms around Kyoya’s waist, gently yet firmly tugging him further into the bed. "Please come back to bed, mon amour. You can't go to work in this state!"
Kyoya considered it. It wouldn't be right to infect anyone else, he supposed — and he really did just want to crawl back into bed for all eternity (or, until he felt a little bit better at the very least).
"Maybe I should," he finally admitted with a sigh. He climbed back under the covers, practically melting into the comfort of his still-warm pillow as the mattress — Kyoya still had no idea as to how Tamaki had acquired one quite so soft — caressed his aching limbs.
"Good, because I'm not letting you leave this house — no, this bed — until you're better."
"Is that so?" Kyoya responded dryly. He rolled his tired eyes at Tamaki's dramatic declaration, before allowing them to flutter shut once more.
He'd surprised himself, giving in so easily like that. He ought to go back on his decision and find a way to get his work done regardless. He'd worked through illnesses before; it was just what he'd been raised to do, he supposed. But things had been different since Tamaki entered his life — Tamaki would practically force Kyoya to take breaks ever since they were younger, even when he wasn't ill. He didn't quite understand that, and wrote it off as some overprotective nature Tamaki had developed from his own upbringing while caring for his sick mother — but it did help him. Kyoya would feel better after spending time with Tamaki even when he hadn't realised he’d previously been feeling badly at all. On a similar note, Tamaki had filled a gap in Kyoya's life he hadn't known had been there to begin with, so he supposed that was just the effect Tamaki had. Now, he vaguely felt the man in question press a soft kiss to his forehead, the rest of his surroundings an incomprehensible haze as he drifted (quite without meaning to) into slumber.
Kyoya hadn't the slightest idea of how long he'd been asleep, but when he awoke he felt the most well-rested he'd been for perhaps as long as he could remember.
The door creaked open, startling Kyoya. Shouldn't Tamaki be at work by now? What time was it, even?
"I’m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!" Tamaki whisper-yelled, as though the act of lowering his voice would magically send Kyoya right back to sleep.
"It's fine, I was already —" Kyoya began, then, remembering why he's been so startled in the first place, deflected with, "forget that. What are you doing here?"
"Hm? I live here, silly." Tamaki walked further into the room, revealing to Kyoya a tray he was balancing in his hands. Kyoya was now propped up onto his elbows, looking inquisitively at his partner.
"You're meant to be at work." Shit. Work. He'd completely forgotten in his exhaustion to inform them of his absence.
"I already told them I'm not coming in today," said Tamaki. He must have noticed Kyoya's panicked expression, because he added, "I did the same for you too."
Kyoya frowned. Tamaki seemed fine, particularly given the lack of the dramatics that usually accompanied any illness Tamaki subtracted. "You're not sick as well, are you?"
"No! I just want to take care of you."
That was what Kyoya had feared. "I can take care of myself," he told him with an exasperated sigh. "There's no reason for us both to miss work. I didn't even want to in the first place."
Tamaki let out a fond laugh. "You don't have to be so independent, mon cheri. I'm sure you can take care of yourself, but I want to be here to help. It won't hurt to let yourself be taken care of for once!" He sat beside Kyoya; gingerly, so as not to send the contents of the tray flying. "Now, are you hungry? I thought it best not to bring anything else unless you wanted it, I know how funny you get with food when you're unwell, but I'll make you anything you want. Drinks included — but have some water first, okay?"
As Tamaki continued his ramblings, Kyoya looked properly at the tray for the first time. It was one of the nicer ones they owned; lilac and white china, emblazoned with a beautiful rose pattern. It may well have been Kyoya's favourite, if he were to choose one. Set upon it was a jug of water beside a tall, ice-filled glass, as well as a miniature vase which proudly displayed a singular violet rose. Kyoya smiled despite himself. Trust Tamaki to go all out, even for something so simple as preparing a glass of water.
"You'll have to go back to work tomorrow," Kyoya said, pouring himself some water as instructed. It wasn't as though either of them desperately needed to be in work — they quite obviously had more than enough money to get by — it was the principle of missing work that unnerved Kyoya so.
"It's almost like you don't want me here," Tamaki chuckled.
Kyoya raised an eyebrow, not indulging Tamaki's joke, though he couldn’t help but to inwardly remark on just how untrue it was. "I just don't want you skipping work for no good reason.”
"You're a good reason," Tamaki said, his voice earnest as he handed Kyoya the now-full glass. "I want to be here for you whenever you need me."
Kyoya didn't know how to respond to that (Tamaki could find a way to make anything a grand declaration of love, and though Kyoya loved the fool right back all the more for it, those moments never failed to catch him off guard), so he took the glass in one hand, and Tamaki's free hand in the other.
Tamaki was most certainly going to be in work tomorrow, even if Kyoya had to drag him there himself. But for now he was too tired to argue, so he decided, for once, to let himself be taken care of.
#still getting used to writing these characters sorry guys#I have become cringe and included nicknames in a language I do not speak in my fic lord help me#jk I was already cringe#and it fits with canon guys trust pls#no beta we die like my confidence for sharing my writings with others#I did proof read it myself so many times I am now sick of the sight of it though#I’m so scared to start posting fanfic again so be nice pls and ty#it was my new year resolution to post at least a fic a month and it’s jan 31st and. nothing#and I’ll be damned if I fail at a resolution on the FIRST MONTH of the year#TAGS:#ohshc#ouran high school host club#ouran host club#tamaki suoh#kyoya ootori#kyotama#kyoya x tamaki#tamakyo#tamaki x kyoya#sickfic#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#??#established relationship#au#oneshot
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tw emeto, suspected food induced illness, scat, mentions/references to treatment and chronic illness
this is sort of a prequel to this fic but also could happen at any point in their timeline
*kotyonok means kitten, lyubov means love, and moya lyubov is my love
at the request of an anon: kostya and lana are both originally ukranian, however they live in adelaide, australia
if you have any questions/requests/comments, feel free to send them my way!
Lana and Kostya didn’t have many rules in their apartment.
Sure, there was the basics. Do what you can, when you can to help keep the house in order. Clean up after yourself. Food was fair game unless otherwise specified.
Truthfully, the rules in place in the house were simply common sense. But, there were a few other rules. Ones for each other, with each other.
For Lana, personal rules were simple. He didn’t like Kostya coming up behind him without saying something. If Lana was in his room and the door was closed, Kostya was expected to leave Lana alone until otherwise prompted. Kostya wasn’t allowed to fix Lana’s collars or help him with his tie if he had an award appearance to go to.
Kostya had rules too. His were longer, all pretty unspoken. But all things considered, Lana was fine with it. If he had treatment, Lana was expected to not interact much with him until Kostya seemed okay. Kostya was always overwhelmed by everything after it was said and done, not to mention how terribly nauseous treatment made him. Lana didn’t mind to leave his boyfriend be. Which made the other rule make sense. If Kostya was getting sick, Lana was not allowed to touch him. Not that Lana blamed him, being stuck in a hospital with nurses and doctors and techs with their hands all over during those rough moments would traumatize anyone. And Lana was allowed to be near Kostya, of course.
Then there was the weird rule. Most couples, if one picked up food on the way home it was simply expected they bring something for their partner. Not in their house. Well, not for Kostya.
Sure, Kostya would bring Lana food or snacks he knew his boyfriend liked. But Lana didn’t bring Kostya anything on Kostya’s preference. Especially not on treatment days. It always overwhelmed Kostya. Kostya would panic of Lana brought him anything. Because Kostya was just wired to think he needed to eat immediately if someone brought him something. Even if eating immediately when something was brought only left Kostya heaving off and on for hours until everything calmed down.
So Lana never brought food home for Kostya. In fact, Lana even rarely brought food in the house if he went to grab something. And even if he didn’t, he would always tell Kostya before he made anything that he would grab something. If for nothing else than respect for Kostya.
Of course, Kostya never told him to do that. It was an unspoken rule, an expectation. One Lana knew Kostya would abide by in a heartbeat if the roles were reversed.
So when Lana stopped on his way home to get dinner, knowing Kostya’s treatment was a little longer today and not knowing how Kostya was feeling, he didn’t think much of it. It was normal, especially days like today.
Kostya barely texted him, instead sleeping off most of the symptoms according to the few texts Lana got early that afternoon. Lana wished he could’ve called to check on Kostya, but he was right in the middle of album release promotion. Kostya knew that, Kostya was fine without the calls. Lana just hated being so disconnected from him.
But, Lana was starting to think a little more of what exactly he grabbed as he and Kostya are in bed. Kostya’s head was in Lana’s lap. Lana pet his hair carefully. They were sort of watching a movie. There was a movie on, anyway.
Lana was writing in his notebook with his free hand. Kostya was on his phone, probably texting back everyone he missed during the day. They were together but separate, in a way they were simply comfortable in.
It’s Kostya, actually, who makes Lana second guess if stopping for something was a good idea.
“Hey, you okay, moya lyubov?” Kostya asked, “Your stomach sounds like shit.”
Lana froze for a moment, caught off guard by Kostya's observation. He had been so focused on trying to ignore his own discomfort that he hadn't even realized his stomach was growling audibly.
"Oh, it's probably just stress or something," Lana replied with a forced nonchalance, hoping Kostya wouldn't press further, “It’s been a lot with the album release and planning everything, nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over kotyonok.”
Kostya raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You sure thats all it is? Have you eaten tonight?" he questioned, his concern evident in his eyes.
Lana nodded, offering a reassuring smile. "I got some dinner on the way home. When you told me you were sleeping of side effects I figured it would be better if I didn’t eat here.”
Kostya offered a small smile, “You don’t have to do that…”
“I know,” Lana shrugged, “But I want to.”
Kostya studied Lana's expression for a moment, sensing that something was off but deciding not to push the issue for now.
"Well, busy day then. Why don't we call it a night? We can both use some rest lyubov…" he suggested, trying to steer the conversation away from Lana's discomfort.
"Sounds good," Lana agreed readily, grateful for the excuse to avoid further discussion about his own condition. He gently stroked Kostya's hair, the rhythmic motion soothing for both of them.
“Do you want to stay together or..?” Kostya asked.
“Well, I don’t feel like moving,” Lana asked, “But are you up for it? I know treatment days sometimes…”
“No, I’m good, besides,” Kostya said, “This is comfortable.”
They settled into bed, Kostya resting his head on Lana’s shoulder. Lana's mind, however, was preoccupied with thoughts of what he had eaten earlier and the subtle but persistent unease in his stomach.
As they drifted off to sleep, Lana couldn't help but feel guilty for not being completely honest with Kostya. But in that moment, he just wanted to focus on anything else. He couldn’t do that to Kostya. He wouldn’t.
-
The darkness of the night enveloped the room as Lana stirred from his sleep, a deep sense of unease settling in his stomach.
At first, he tried to ignore it, shifting slightly in bed and willing himself to go back to sleep. But as minutes passed, the discomfort intensified, gnawing at him with increasing intensity.
Lana's breaths became shallow and rapid, his body tensing as waves of nausea washed over him.
He clutched the sheets tightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the coolness of the room. Kostya’s room was always cold. Something about cold rooms making nausea less intense, or something. Something Kostya learned before his treatment plan allowed him to be home.
But Lana doesn’t think it has any merit. He is overwhelmingly warm. The room feels suffocating and gets worse by the second. He didn't want to disturb Kostya. Not when he knew how rare it was for him to have a restful night.
But as the nausea grew unbearable, Lana knew he couldn't stay in bed any longer. With a quiet groan, he carefully slipped out from under Kostya's sleeping form, trying not to jostle him. He tiptoed across the room, his footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor.
Every step sent a jolt of pain through Lana's body, his stomach twisting and churning with each movement. He reached the bathroom door just in time, his hand trembling as he fumbled for the light switch. The sudden brightness made his head spin, and he braced himself against the sink, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
Lana knew he was about to get sick, and there was no avoiding it now. He leaned over the toilet, gripping the edges tightly as he emptied the contents of his stomach in violent heaves.
The nausea was relentless, waves of pain and dizziness crashing over Lana in rapid succession. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the discomfort even as tears of exertion and frustration welled up.
Lana could feel his chest heaving. He heard his own gasping. It was so weird, really. Usually it was Kostya up in the middle of the night. Kostya’s side effects got worse at night. Usually it was Kostya, kneeling on the floor at some ungodly hour, trying to catch his breath. It’s usually Kostya who’s too hot… well, no. No Kostya got cold. Lana doesn’t know why he’s going over this list in his head, but he is.
Lana considers himself lucky though. Even though its him tonight, he still feels lucky. With Kostya, it was an all night ordeal. Not that Lana minded, he didn’t mind at all. But Kostya’s stomach was usually such a wreck he couldn’t even leave the bathroom for hours. Lana knew it hadn’t been hours, of course.
But it still felt like forever. After what felt like an eternity, Lana's stomach finally settled, leaving him almost entirely spent. He rinsed his mouth, splashed some water on his face, and took a moment to compose himself before quietly slipping back into bed beside Kostya, hoping he could at least get some rest before the morning.
-
Lana's fitful sleep was interrupted once again, this time by a more urgent sense of discomfort. He groaned softly, shifting in bed as a wave of nausea swept over him once more.
His stomach churned ominously, and Lana realized with a sinking feeling that this wasn't just a one-time episode.
As he tried to sit up, Lana felt a different kind of pressure building up, a sense of urgency that made his heart race with anxiety. He knew what was coming next, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.
With a sense of resignation, Lana stumbled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, his steps faltering as he reached the toilet. He braced himself for another round of vomiting, but as he retched, he felt a different sensation—a sharp cramp in his abdomen that signaled something else entirely.
"Oh no," Lana muttered to himself, the realization dawning on him.
As soon as Lana was sitting down, he feels what seems like chunky liquid rush out of him, splashing in the toilet.
That was definitely not good.
He felt sweat start to stick his bangs to his face, the little curls he had sticking to his cheeks. The feeling made him all the more uncomfortable. He brushed his hand over his face. He curled down, perching his elbows on his knees and covering his face.
Everything is suddenly too bright. He turned on the light. He knows he did, he knows he did it reflexively. But now he hates himself for it. The headache that he didn’t remember existing earlier is now almost as debilitating as everything else.
Lana doesn't feel well at all. Something is really wrong and for a moment he doesn’t know what it is.
The spell passes in time. Lana reached behind him to flush the toilet, but even that brings more upset to his stomach. Now he’s just nauseous as hell.
He cleaned up himself. Tried to put himself back together. Anything to go lay down again. He’d probably go to his own room this time. He felt thoroughly disgusting, he knew Kostya would understand. His own bed sounded better than subjecting Kostya to… well, this.
But standing makes him dizzy, and all he can do is lean against the wall and slide down, pulling his knees to his chest.
It was then that Kostya, stirred from his sleep by Lana's absence. The absence of warmth and weight next to him finally registers, and he’s up. He stays where he is for a moment, figuring maybe Lana just went to his own room. But, when he hears noise, he gets up.
The light seeped through the crack in the door. Kostya knew that probably wasn’t a good sign before he even approached the closed bathroom door, concern etched on his face as he listened to Lana's labored breathing from the other side.
"Lana? Moya lyubov… are you okay?" Kostya called out softly, not wanting to startle him.
Lana didn't respond immediately, still catching his breath after the ordeal. He mustered the strength to reply weakly,
"I'm... I'm okay, Kostya. Just... give me a minute."
Kostya hesitated, torn between respecting Lana's privacy and wanting to make sure he was truly okay. He stayed on the other side of the door, his hand hovering over the handle as he waited for any sign of distress from Lana.
And then he heard it—the sound of Lana retching. Without a second thought, Kostya pushed open the door, his concern overriding any sense of hesitation or discomfort.
"You poor thing," Kostya murmured softly, his heart aching at the sight of Lana's distress.
He knelt beside Lana, offering a gentle hand on his back as Lana continued to retch into the toilet.
Lana was pale, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled with the intense nausea. Each heave seemed to wrack his body, leaving him exhausted and weak.
Kostya hated seeing Lana this way. Lana was always quite a violent vomiter. He always had been as long as Kostya knew him. The type of retches Kostya was sure started in his feet and worked their way up quickly.
Well, logically Kostya knew that wasn’t exactly possible. He knew that very well. But it stilled pained Kostya every time he heard Lana throw yp.
Lana retched again, Kostya could feel the way rhe force left Lana shaking. It was as if something in his body was desperately trying to get out, and Kostya couldn't help but feel a pang of worry.
"Kostya, I'm sorry," Lana managed to gasp out between retches, his voice filled with frustration and discomfort.
"Shh, Don't apologize, Lana," Kostya replied soothingly, his tone filled with empathy. "You're going through a lot right now. Just focus on getting through this."
Lana retched again. The waves were less abundant. But Kostya was almost certain that just meant he was heaving even more violently.
Kostya reached for a nearby washcloth, dampening it with cool water before gently wiping Lana's clammy forehead. He wanted to do anything he could to provide some relief, even if it was just a small gesture of comfort.
As Lana's vomiting subsided momentarily, Kostya helped him sit back against the bathroom wall, offering a little plastic cup of water to rinse his mouth and soothe his parched throat. Lana accepted it gratefully, taking small sips between deep breaths.
"You don't have to stay in here with me, kotyonok," Lana said weakly, gesturing towards the door. "I'll be okay."
Kostya shook his head, refusing to leave Lana's side.
“Lana, moya lyubov,” Kostya said, chuckling softly, “I’ve been sick for… what, a year now? I’m usually the one losing everything I consumed, multiple times a week even. And you have never ignored me or left me alone. Why on earth would I leave you?”
“Because I…” Lana started.
“I’m not going anywhere. No matter what,” Kostya interrupted.
“But what if I’m sick?” Lana asked, “You’ll get sick and-“
Kostya shook his head, sitting next to Lana and nudging him to lean his head on his shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on top of Lana’s head before stroking his cheek.
“Okay? So?” Kostya said, “If it’s between staying… well, less sick, or helping you. Then I will happily get sick if it means staying with you. I’ll always choose you in a heartbeat.”
#emeto#sickfic#emeto fic#emeto cw#emeto tw#fever cw#fever tw#emetophilia#food poisoning tw#food poisoning cw
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Whump Week - Day 5
Day FIVE let's give it up for DAY FIVE for @week-of-whump!! Once again, this was inspired by a convo with @whumpr and can even be considered a sequel to this!
Prompt: "Stay still"
TWs: reluctant/mean caretaker, abuse/bullying, BRIEF emeto reference
"If I have to repeat myself again, I won't just hit you once." Dimitri growled. He forced Mariano back down against the pillows, almost relishing the whine that pulled from the teenager. "Stay. Still. Sleep."
Mariano did stay down, though. He stayed in bed as Dimitri pulled the plain green sheets up over him and pressed the wrapped ice pack to his forehead. He didn't try to argue. Really, Dimitri was almost proud of the knot that had swollen up on Mariano's head--he'd hit the ground pretty hard when Dimitri had punched him for talking back.
Manuel had said that it was reasonable to not want to be called a little bitch during a debriefing meeting, and so had Luis, but Dimitri still thought it was applicable. Mariano deserved to hear the truth after their post-mission dinner had given him food poisoning. Only a little bitch would go almost unscathed through razing a city, just to get sick from a diner omelet.
Dimitri wished that Luis had just given him laps. But no, now he was stuck taking care of Mariano until he was cleared for duty again. It was the worst.
Sometimes he'd whine in his sleep, or try to get up when Dimitri was right there. "God. It's like you don't want my help."
Mariano opened his mouth to say something before flinching. He turned his face into the pillow. "Sorry."
"You should be." Dimitri grumbled as he sat down. He pulled out his laptop, plugged in his headphones. Mariano had a comfortable bed, the sun streaming in through the slats of the blinds, and he had water on his bedside table. That had to be perfect.
Before he knew it, hours had drifted by. He'd finally finished all the paperwork he had been behind on. With a satisfied sigh, Dimitri closed out the window and glanced over at Mariano.
He was asleep, finally. Manuel had made sure to tell Dimitri that Mariano needed to rest and limit screen time, and it was good that the idiot was finally listening. Dimitri reached to take the ice pack away before pausing.
His eyes lingered on Mariano's face. Were those tear tracks? "Hey." Dimitri wasn't even sure if Mariano was awake.
Why the fuck was he crying? When had he stopped? When Dimitri reached to wipe at Mariano's face, he felt him flinch.
"Hey. You're fine." Dimitri growled.
Mariano opened his eyes, wincing in the light. "...Sorry."
"What do you need? You were crying and didn't tell me."
"Sorry."
Dimitri's jaw clenched. "Stop apologizing. I'm here to take care of you. Stop being stupid."
Mariano started to talk and then stopped a few times. "The light makes the migraine worse. And the nausea."
"It's three PM. I can't turn off the sun." Dimitri scoffed. "Spoiled brat."
Mariano's face twisted, just for a moment, but he finally met Dimitri's eye. "I was...earlier I was going to go sleep in the closet. I wasn't...I wasn't trying to be difficult. Or a brat."
Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"It's dark and quiet. Easier on my stomach and head. Thought I'd bother you less in there."
Dimitri pulled a face, but he shrugged. "Alright then. Come on, come on." He helped Mariano up, noticing that he didn't make a move to grab a pillow or blanket. When Dimitri opened the door, he saw that behind a box, there was a little corner with a pillow and blanket already set up.
Dimitri froze. "What the fuck is this?"
Mariano didn't look at him, not even when Dimitri's arm tightened around his waist. "Sometimes flickering lights wake me up at night and it's hard to get back to sleep."
"So you haven't been sleeping well."
Mariano flinched like he'd been slapped. "No. But I'm dealing with it."
"No you aren't. I'm telling Manuel, and he's going to report this to Luis." Dimitri said. He helped Mariano down onto his closet floor.
Mariano fit perfectly in the tiny corner when he curled up and pulled the blanket over himself. "...Okay."
"You need to tell us if something is going on with you." Dimitri said. If he was a touch more gentle as he brushed Mariano's hair back to place a fresh ice pack on his head, neither of them would comment on it.
"I didn't want to be dramatic."
"And now you're sleeping in a closet, so maybe bite the bullet next time." Dimitri shook his head. "Sleeping pills aren't a big deal, god. Luis will probably want to meet with you later this week to get an appointment or something set up." He stood, crossing his arms. "Now just shut up, drink your water, and take a nap."
When Dimitri closed the door, he almost thought he heard a sigh of relief. It didn't stop him from going to tell Manuel what he'd found out. It didn't even stop the satisfaction that bubbled up when Manuel just muttered that he knew something was wrong.
Maybe, he thought as Manuel left to call Luis, he'd even get out of Mariano duty early as a reward.
#whump#whump week#day five#reluctant caretaker#mean caretaker#abuse#bullying#emeto reference#dimitri#manuel#mage of violence#dimitri isn't the worst#he's not GOOD but he's also not the worst here either
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Hamster Interactive Story
CYOA
Chapter 7. Vet
Previous - Masterlist
Content: Medical care, implied needle and medical drugs, broken bones, hospital and vet setting, poor vision, panic attack, emeto mention implied, dubious handling, dehumanization, pet trope, Giant/tiny, female cast, cages, being watched, money stress, selective mutism,
Pov: Ashley, then switches to Hamster for the poll.
Poll Winner: Rush Hamster to the emergency vet
—
You can’t handle seeing her like this. She’s burning in your hands, and you’re already reaching for your pink jacket. It doesn’t matter if you have to work full time at both your jobs for the next year, she has to go to the vet.
You can do your makeup in the car.
You hold her against you, and feel her squirming to try to get more comfortable in your hand. “Shh shh it’s ok, its ok, shh,” you keep shushing her as you swaddle her in a blanket on your lap to keep her safe while driving.
The vet isn’t busy yet thankfully, and you’re able to get her in before half the day is gone. “We’re going get you allll fixed up Sweet-Pea.” You reassure Hamster in a whisper to the blankets she’s hiding under, and hold it close to you. It’s covering your pyjama bottoms so people can’t notice your lack of tight jeans so easily…
The doctor working on the floor today is Dr. Reese, and you recognize him from your job. When you unravel the small heap of blanket to reveal Hamster, she visibly cowers under the bright lights, and pulls her hair over herself. This makes Reese chuckle, and he takes over once she’s set onto the examination table.
Hamster starts crying with that tea kettle whisle to her voice when Reese touches her, but turns her head towards you when she hears your voice. She reaches her tiny chubby hand out for you as if asking to be saved, and your heart breaks all over again. “I’m right here baby girl, don’t worry I won’t leave. This nice man is going to help you.” You want to put your finger down for her, but you have to keep your distance.
Hamster starts actually screaming once Reese begins prodding at her injury, and it makes you feel sick. You have to leave the room after all, and run to the bathroom to get a hold of yourself, gripping the sink to keep back tears. If you ended up with makeup running down your face, you would be too humiliated to come out, and to your horror, that’s exactly what happens…
It takes some time to calm down and fix your face, and finally you brave going back into the room to check on your girl. Your eyes are puffy but you hide it well with fresh eyeliner.
When you see her she’s half awake with a piece of gause taped to her good arm, and a cast being put on the other. She’s just staring off into space with her eyelids drooping, and barely responds to you when you speak.
Your blood runs cold, and you leave again.
A nurse calls you back in shortly after, and Reese talks to you about the break, what medication to give her, how long the cast should stay on.
He mentions something off hand, and you’re somewhat caught off guard, “Have you considered having her vision checked? It appeared to me that she was having a difficult time visually focusing on anything past her nose…”
Thats the sentence that stands out, and your guilt skyrockets at the thought of neglecting her needs. Next thing you know you’re agreeing to an eye exam for the following week, and signing papers that you hardly skim over.
They hand Hamster back to you in a paper box with holes in it, and inside she’s nested in soft tissues that surround her, with a cast protecting her arm. She’s fully asleep, and not moving. You snap a picture for your blog, and add your GoFundMe link to the description of your post.
Once she’s back home safely in her cage you leave for work.
—
—
Credit to @alittlewhump for proof reading <3333 big hearts for you <3
Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @dramat1ques @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @whither-wander-whump @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @copperyote @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @sunshiline-writes @whump-in-the-closet
#cyoa whump#interactive whump#g/t writing#g/t art#whump art#whump writing#tw broken bones#pet whump#tiny whump#medical whump#breezy’s post#hamster interactive story#breezys art#breezys writing#poll#tw hospitals
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Sorry, if this is rude.. but I'm really curious.
Why is puking such a large theme in your writing? Is it more of a whump fixation like 'emptying' oneself of their turmoil or is it more of a fetish fancy?
Again I'm sorry if this is a weird ask and please, feel free not to answer if it is.
Hmm, that is a good question.
I consider my writing to fall into the emeto category of whump. So it's like whump in terms of emeto?
I'm not entirely sure what fascinates me about it. But I feel like the biggest draw for me is the hurt/comfort potential.
Like feeling sick/puking is just incredibly vulnerable uncomfortable state, where you basically don't have control over yourself, you can't help what's happening, you can't really stop it...but it has so many causes and is so mundane in a sense? Everyone goes through it?
And it's gross. So I feel like whoever takes care of you during a sickness like that has to really really care, and you have to be comfortable and close for that comfort/intervention to not feel humiliating?
And it's exactly in this kind of state where genuine care, real friendships, close family or significant other come through to help you with what you need and can't help?
For me its like the ultimate expression of selfless, non-profit, not doing it for sex or attraction or good looks or "to look good" kind of love. And it's not something breezy and easy like a fever or a cold where you do something half-heartedly and it's done, it requires real overcoming yourself and your comfort zone?
Other thing is the whole caretaking like bellyrubs and gurgles that might have a sort of sexy/kink quality for me? The buildup and stuff? I'm not entirely sure, I explore this aspect of it more on other blogs, but it has a bity bity part of it in my fics too.
So it's kind of a mix between super selfless care and kind of sexy build up tension and vulnerability and a kind of exploration of sex and sexuality (in romantic smutty context! Not all fics are about this!!It isn't as high on my priorities in writing as the platonic aspects for example) that just feels a lot safer for me?
I'm not a fan of sex without a deep emotional connection, I'm super afraid of it, actually (which is not a trendy opinion right now). Casual sex is sort of a personal squick. My environment was very "sex bad! Sex unpure! Sex dangerous! It's a way people will use you!" (It took me a long time to figure out that sex itself isn't what bothers me. It's the casual kind of sex that does. Ergo why my world and OCs are so sensitive about touch and can't do casual hookups at all lol.).
So connecting this selfless kind of care with sexy kind of context creates the right comfort level for me.
Honestly, I don't know for sure. I think for me this ties into the debate of "is whump inherently sexual or not" and "where are the lines between whump and kink" and "are there kinks that are freaky or are they alright as long as it's consensual" and "is whump or h/c just an expression of desire for connection and care/being taken care of/caring"?
(I have read studies that suggest whump can be a substitute for vulnerability for asexual people or for people not currently having/being wary of sexual relationships).
Basically, the pure hurt/comfort and care and vulnerability is my favourite whump content. I'm here for the comfort, not for the hurt (not that there is anything wrong about the hurt itself I think). And emeto nicely ties into that.
#emeto#I mean why do we like certain kind of whump?#why does emeto exist?#is it something the writers of it share or does everyone have their own specific reason?#and we should simply accept it?#I don't know#gonna go hide somewhere now bye#ask#whump meta
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smol snip of Here for You Chapter 2~!
typical warnings: emeto/vomiting! ... nothing else atm
Tighnari curled against him, obviously seeking warmth. It said something about how poorly the fox must be feeling despite things being relatively calm thus far-normally Tighnari was very pragmatic, and hesitant to risk making Cyno sick with whatever bug he’d gotten this time. Cyno didn’t mind, of course. But he worried.
The little signs of illness added up.
“Try to rest if you can,” he suggested quietly. “I’ll be here.”
Tighnari dropped off into a fitful sleep shortly thereafter. Cyno would consider it another small victory. The water had stayed down, for the moment. Nari was resting. It was… enough.
Cyno didn’t mean to drift off with him, but did.
Which was how he jolted awake sometime later by Tighnari lurching partially upright before vomiting onto himself, a rapid gush of clear liquid that smelled of stomach acid and nothing else.
A whine, low and pitiful. Cyno gently squeezed Tighnari’s shoulder.
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hi can you please write something in which joe is really sick and unexpectedly throws up all over the floor, shocking nick (who was cuddling with his woozy bf two seconds ago) and is really vulnerable? usually tough characters being vulnerable is my jam! nick had to help him change and walk him to the bathroom/ help him to bed etc
Sorry this took forever!
characters: Nick and Joe
warnings: emeto, dizziness
Joe does not need to be taken care of (but sometimes it's kinda nice)
"You okay?"
"Mh?"
"Are you okay?" Nick craned his neck to get a better look at the man lying on his chest.
Joe was acting weird. He was even less talkative than usual, not even greeting Nick upon arriving home. Instead, he immediately went in for a hug - something Nick had never seen him do in all the years they'd known each other. Then, Joe had stumbled around while taking off his shoes, giving the impression of a newborn foal, that hadn’t quite figured out how to use its legs yet.
The question of "what's wrong?" went unanswered as Joe simply buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck. Said boyfriend was bewildered to say the least.
Since Joe obviously wasn't in the mood to talk, the pair had silently relocated to the couch, which is exactly where they'd spent the past 30 minutes.
Nick’s boyfriend had never been the cuddly type. Far from it actually. Which was fine with Nick, seeing as he himself was not the biggest fan of physical affection, although he didn't resent it either. For a total of 5 minutes, he even enjoyed his boyfriend's sudden change in nature. But the minutes went by, and Joe wouldn't get up. Or move at all for that matter. He simply laid there, his body pressed into Nick's, face buried just above his boyfriend's collar bone.
"Talk to me. What's bothering you?"
Joe groaned. His head was pounding - had been all day. Not to mention, that he was overall feeling like absolute garbage. Earlier at work he’d suddenly started feeling dizzy, momentarily having to put the needle down as to not mess up the tattoo. He pushed through that appointment but ultimately decided to cancel everything else for the day. The dizziness was unrelenting, washing over him in constant waves, that left him gripping onto counters in a desperate attempt to steady himself. The drive home was torture, the motion of the car making nausea join the colorful mix of ailments plaguing him.
So, considering all that, he'd be delighted if Nick could just stop bothering him. Unfortunately, he was very aware that that wasn't gonna happen.
"Nothing." He mumbled into his partner's skin, a feeble attempt to end the conversation quickly.
"Bullshit. You're not feeling well, are you?"
After a short pause Joe shook his head ever so slightly.
"Figured." Nick was pleased that his boyfriend had finally admitted to feeling unwell, so he decided not to bother him any further for the time being, instead turning his attention to the tv while mindlessly playing with Joe's hair.
Another couple of minutes went by and Joe had drifted into a light sleep. Nick on the other hand, was getting more concerned by the minute - while Joe had felt slightly warm before, there was now a concerning heat radiating off of him. He obviously had a fever, and it was getting worse. Nick knew he'd have to wake Joe up eventually, if only to get some medication into him.
But before Nick could make up his mind his boyfriend began to stir. He loosened his grip on Joe slightly to give him some room. The sick man settled down after readjusting himself for a couple of seconds, so Nick put his hands back onto his boyfriend’s body, holding him tight.
This peace lasted exactly five seconds before Joe shot upright. The next few moments Nick would later describe as “a series of unfortunate events unfolding in quick succession”: when Joe sat up so suddenly, his head connected roughly with his boyfriend’s lower jaw, making Nick yelp in pain. He couldn’t even finish his exasperated “what the fuck” before Joe’s stomach gurgled so loudly, it was audible for the both of them. Nick’s eyes widened as Joe doubled over and promptly threw up onto their hardwood flooring, as well as his pants.
There was no time for Nick to even comprehend what just happened – Joe, who was still half-sitting on top of his boyfriend, was already busy with round two, adding generously to the puddle on the floor. The blonde didn’t have much room to move, and he felt like shoving Joe off him would hardly be helpful right now, so he settled for gently rubbing his boyfriend’s lower back.
It wasn’t long until Joe threw up for the third time. While the first two waves had come up effortlessly, this one was thicker, and he coughed and sputtered around it. His head felt like it was being split open as he heaved and panted. Usually, he’d be mortified right about now but in his current state he couldn’t care less about who was with him. And luckily it was only Nick anyway.
After that round it seemed like Joe was done for the time being. Nick took the opportunity to wiggle out from under his boyfriend so he could inspect the damage in its entirety. It took him every ounce of strength he could muster not to gag at the site. Their living room looked absolutely horrifying with vomit all over their floor as well as their living room table and of course, Joe himself. Nick was honestly baffled at the fact that he himself had remained clean amongst all of this.
All the while Joe was fighting to stay conscious. When he began tipping to the side, his arms failing to hold his body up any longer, Nick finally snapped out of his shock.
“Woah, hey.” He grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulder, scooching closer so that Joe could lean against his chest. Nick gently wrapped his arms around his partner’s torso.
“Take a couple of deep breaths, don’t pass out on me.” And so Joe did. They sat like that for a good five minutes, both breathing deeply in and out, before Joe finally began to come around.
He sat up, immediately groaning at the pain is his head, which seemed to worsen with every little move. Nick rubbed his back comfortingly, allowing his boyfriend to take all the time he needed.
“How are you doing?”
“Awful.” Joe’s voice sounded raspy and weak – just overall so very unlike himself. Nick couldn’t help but pity him.
“You need a shower. Desperately.” He expected a snarky remark, instead his boyfriend simply nodded. Gosh, he was pathetic, and Nick hated it. This version of Joe sucked, and he was going to fix it. Now.
“Okay, let’s go.” Nick decidedly got to his feet, pulling Joe up with him. He swayed a little on his feet but managed to stay upright.
So, Nick gently led his woozy boyfriend towards the bathroom, never once taking his hand off Joe’s back. He sat him down on the edge of their bathtub and went to grab some clean clothes.
Joe stayed quiet and kept his head down. While Nick undressed him and then himself. While Nick helped him shower. While Nick dried him off. Even while Nick put the new clothes on him.
“Okay, let’s get you to bed so I can get started on cleaning the living room.” Only then did Joe look up at his boyfriend. He was still so unbelievably dizzy but even in the midst of his own discomfort he couldn’t help feeling apologetic.
“I’m sorry.”
If you listened really closely, you could hear Nick’s heart shatter into a million little pieces. He looked at his boyfriend with nothing but pure pity on his face.
“Don’t apologize. You’re sick as hell. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Let’s just get you to bed.”
Joe wanted to argue further, tell his boyfriend he could clean the living room himself, but ultimately decided against it. Nick would argue back, and Joe was just way too tired for that.
Therefore, he once again let his boyfriend lead him, this time to the bedroom. He hated this, quite frankly. Nick was making him feel like a child that needed to be taken care of. And Joe did not need to be taken care of.
But for some reason, he found himself staying quiet, when Nick quite literally tucked him in. Somehow, he was actually feeling somewhat contempt. Which, of course, he’d never admit out loud. So instead of putting up a fight, like he usually would, he just went with it. And thank god he did, because putting his aching head on the cool pillow felt like nothing short of heaven. Nick smiled as Joe immediately closed his eyes, he sighed however, when he remembered the state of their living room. Well, he had no choice but to get started. Luckily, he’d do anything for Joe – cleaning a little vomit was definitely something he could handle.
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