fic: make it better [exo]
make it better
exo; wu fan/jongin; pg; 1500
jongin's got a stomach ache. canon.
for my upset stomach fluff_bingo prompt.
make it better
Jongin refuses to budge from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, taking up three seats. He’s tired and his back hurts and whatever it was he ate at dinner isn’t sitting too well with him. The way his stomach is lurching even while he’s lying down makes him feel like throwing up so the fact that Sehun is annoyed that he won’t move doesn’t really bother him in the slightest.
“You can’t just hog the entire sofa,” Sehun huffs irritably, shoving at Jongin’s feet.
“Yes I can,” Jongin mumbles back, glaring at Sehun from where his head is resting on his arms. His eyes squeeze tight when he feels a wave of nausea hit him, jaw clenching as he tries to keep the contents of his stomach inside.
“God, stop being an ass,” Sehun snaps, actively pushing Jongin’s legs off the couch. The motion makes the nausea worse, Jongin’s legs immediately curling upwards until he has them nearly pressed against his chest. “Hey, are you okay?”
Jongin shakes his head, biting his lower lip hard enough for it to hurt, exhaling only when the sick feeling passes. “My stomach hurts.”
“What hurts?” The voice is definitely not Sehun’s, deeper in tone and as Jongin opens his eyes, it’s Wu Fan’s worry that greets him.
“My stomach,” Jongin whines, suddenly feeling much more childish. Behind Wu Fan, Jongin can make out the rest of his bandmates piling into the living room, the faint clatter of dishes in the background mixed in with Kyungsoo’s laughter. The sofa sinks near his feet, Sehun’s attention fixed on Jongin as well.
Wu Fan’s brows knit together as he sinks in onto the couch next to Jongin, only half on, the space left beside Jongin minimal. His hand immediately goes to Jongin’s hair, carding through as if touching Jongin will somehow make everything go away.
“Is he alright?” Chanyeol asks over Wu Fan’s shoulder, face hovering in Jongin’s peripherals. If Jongin wasn’t feeling so gross, he’d tell Chanyeol to go away but he does and Jongin knows that Wu Fan rather likes Chanyeol. He’s willing to tolerate him if just for that reason.
“Come on, let’s get you to your room,” Wu Fan tells Jongin, whispering something to Chanyeol that Jongin can’t quite make out. His fingers clutch at Wu Fan’s thigh as his stomach twists again, the uncomfortableness difficult to bear. It’s enough to get Wu Fan’s undivided attention again, his boyfriend’s hand covering his own and squeezing. “Do you think you can walk?”
Jongin laughs, although it sounds more like a croak, muffled and pitched too high. “I’m not dying.”
“You look like you are,” Sehun supplies helpfully and Wu Fan glares at him hard enough to send him shrinking back into his seat, cheeks flushing embarrassingly. Chanyeol snickers behind Wu Fan, Junmyeon’s worried face joining in on the huddle forming around Jongin. He feels like he’s on his deathbed and they’re all trying to say their goodbyes.
“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks, genuinely worried and Jongin feels almost bad for making him worry, since he stresses out over everything enough as it is. Jongdae’s right behind him, a hand settled on his waist and Jongin thinks it’s a bit funny that he knows what’s going on there more than Junmyeon does.
“His stomach hurts,” Wu Fan answers, gently pulling Jongin upwards. He sits up mostly on his own, frowning when the shift in position causes his stomach to dip dangerously. Wu Fan gets him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him in close. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of him,” he tells Junmyeon as Jongin leans in, sighing as the scent of cinnamon that always lingers on Wu Fan curls around him. He’s warm and sturdy, guiding Jongin to his room carefully even if Jongin is perfectly capable of walking on his own.
“I’ll be okay, ge,” Jongin says, Mandarin still a bit stilted even if he’s been practising obsessively lately to impress Wu Fan. He doesn’t get a response, Wu Fan opening his bedroom door and taking him to his bed. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“I’d rather it didn’t hurt at all,” Wu Fan tells him, getting him to lie down on his bed. Jongin just smiles, glad that he wasn’t in the hoodie he’d worn all day anymore. He always feels too hot, clothes a bothersome layer.
“It’ll go away,” he assures, wincing as his throat reflexively closes, stomach’s contents churning torturously. He really doesn’t want to throw up, least of all in front of Wu Fan. That would be really fucking embarrassing.
Wu Fan sits down next to him on the bed, hand sweeping his fringe out of his eyes before curling into his hair again. “I hope so. I’m going to get you something for it, okay? Sit tight.”
“No, ge,” Jongin whines, grabbing Wu Fan’s cardigan as he rises off the bed. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be right back, Jongin,” Wu Fan soothes, attempting to unclasp Jongin’s fingers from his cardigan. Jongin holds it even tighter, pouting as much as he can through the gross way his stomach twists.
“No, stay,” he repeats, pulling on the cardigan, childishness getting the better of him. “Please.”
“You’re being a brat,” Wu Fan informs him, even as he sinks back down onto the bed, lying down next to Jongin, arm fitting under Jongin’s neck. Jongin only grins as he curls into his side, legs tangling with Wu Fan’s. “Don’t throw up on me.”
“That’s mean,” Jongin protests, sticking his tongue out at Wu Fan before settling his head onto his chest. “You’re supposed to be nicer to sick people.”
“Oh, am I?” Wu Fan teases, fingers finding their way into Jongins hair again. He plays with the strands, twirling some of the longer strands around his fingers before they fall back down. It’s comforting, Wu Fan is always comforting.
“Yeah,” Jongin says, tracing circles into Wu Fan’s side with his index finger. His jaw clenches as he attempts to pretend he’s not feeling nauseous but Wu Fan catches it, hand stilling.
“Maybe I should kiss it better,” he suggests, pushing Jongin onto his back. Jongin flushes, afraid to meet Wu Fan’s eyes, the large hand he feels pressed against his stomach hot against his skin even through Jongin’s t-shirt.
“Does that work?” Jongin breathes as he feels Wu Fan lift his shirt upwards, hand rubbing soft circles against Jongin’s bare skin. It makes him shiver, eyes closing briefly.
“How about we test it out?” Wu Fan smiles, voice soft and Jongin bites his lip when he feels Wu Fan’s lips press against his tummy. His head feels a little light, focus lifted off the way his stomach is twisting.
“It feels nice,” Jongin murmurs, cheeks burning at the admission. Wu Fan chuckles, kissing Jongin’s tummy again before looking up at him.
“I told Chanyeol to go get you medication, so let me go get it.” This time Jongin just nods, Wu Fan’s smile fond as he gives him a small peck on the lips before leaving. Jongin sighs stupidly, tugging his shirt down and closing his eyes.
He’s shaken awake just as sleep claims him, Wu Fan’s face blurring into focus. “Hyung.”
“For your stomach,” Wu Fan whispers to him, a bottle of water in one hand and a box of medication in the other. Jongin nods his head, sitting up and opens his mouth expectantly. Wu Fan laughs, pinching his nose before he places two white round pills onto his tongue before pushing his mouth closed. He hands Jongin the water bottle, which Jongin takes a few sips from before pushing it back at Wu Fan and flopping back down onto the bed.
“Thanks,” Jongin mumbles, smiling up at Wu Fan happily.
“You seem better already,” Wu Fan grins, placing the water bottle and medicine on the floor beside Jongin’s bed.
Jongin wants to tell him it’s because Wu Fan take such good care of him but the very thought of it makes him flush with embarrassment. Instead, he pulls Wu Fan’s hand to his lips and kisses it. It surprises Wu Fan, but he smiles really big and Jongin thinks it’s the nicest.
“You can go hang out with everyone else,” Jongin offers. He doesn’t really want him to but Wu Fan’s done enough as it is and it’s not like the twelve of them get together for very long now-a-days.
“I think I’m okay,” Wu Fan says but his brow furrows nervously. “Or do you want me to go?”
“No, I -- you can stay, if you want,” Jongin fumbles, blushing again. The way Wu Fan laughs is telling of the fact that he set Jongin up and Jongin smacks him, hiding his face into his pillow, feeling stupid.
“You’re cute,” Wu Fan whispers into his ear, settling in next to Jongin. He wraps Jongin into his arms, a hand sliding up Jongin’s back underneath his t-shirt. Jongin tucks his face into the crook of his neck, eyes closing as he relaxes. His stomach isn’t churning painfully anymore and he wonders if that’s because of the medicine or because Wu Fan’s kissed him better.
- it only took me forever to write them but yay, i did :)
-thankyou for reading!!!
exo; wu fan/jongin; pg; 1500
jongin's got a stomach ache. canon.
for my upset stomach fluff_bingo prompt.
make it better
Jongin refuses to budge from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, taking up three seats. He’s tired and his back hurts and whatever it was he ate at dinner isn’t sitting too well with him. The way his stomach is lurching even while he’s lying down makes him feel like throwing up so the fact that Sehun is annoyed that he won’t move doesn’t really bother him in the slightest.
“You can’t just hog the entire sofa,” Sehun huffs irritably, shoving at Jongin’s feet.
“Yes I can,” Jongin mumbles back, glaring at Sehun from where his head is resting on his arms. His eyes squeeze tight when he feels a wave of nausea hit him, jaw clenching as he tries to keep the contents of his stomach inside.
“God, stop being an ass,” Sehun snaps, actively pushing Jongin’s legs off the couch. The motion makes the nausea worse, Jongin’s legs immediately curling upwards until he has them nearly pressed against his chest. “Hey, are you okay?”
Jongin shakes his head, biting his lower lip hard enough for it to hurt, exhaling only when the sick feeling passes. “My stomach hurts.”
“What hurts?” The voice is definitely not Sehun’s, deeper in tone and as Jongin opens his eyes, it’s Wu Fan’s worry that greets him.
“My stomach,” Jongin whines, suddenly feeling much more childish. Behind Wu Fan, Jongin can make out the rest of his bandmates piling into the living room, the faint clatter of dishes in the background mixed in with Kyungsoo’s laughter. The sofa sinks near his feet, Sehun’s attention fixed on Jongin as well.
Wu Fan’s brows knit together as he sinks in onto the couch next to Jongin, only half on, the space left beside Jongin minimal. His hand immediately goes to Jongin’s hair, carding through as if touching Jongin will somehow make everything go away.
“Is he alright?” Chanyeol asks over Wu Fan’s shoulder, face hovering in Jongin’s peripherals. If Jongin wasn’t feeling so gross, he’d tell Chanyeol to go away but he does and Jongin knows that Wu Fan rather likes Chanyeol. He’s willing to tolerate him if just for that reason.
“Come on, let’s get you to your room,” Wu Fan tells Jongin, whispering something to Chanyeol that Jongin can’t quite make out. His fingers clutch at Wu Fan’s thigh as his stomach twists again, the uncomfortableness difficult to bear. It’s enough to get Wu Fan’s undivided attention again, his boyfriend’s hand covering his own and squeezing. “Do you think you can walk?”
Jongin laughs, although it sounds more like a croak, muffled and pitched too high. “I’m not dying.”
“You look like you are,” Sehun supplies helpfully and Wu Fan glares at him hard enough to send him shrinking back into his seat, cheeks flushing embarrassingly. Chanyeol snickers behind Wu Fan, Junmyeon’s worried face joining in on the huddle forming around Jongin. He feels like he’s on his deathbed and they’re all trying to say their goodbyes.
“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks, genuinely worried and Jongin feels almost bad for making him worry, since he stresses out over everything enough as it is. Jongdae’s right behind him, a hand settled on his waist and Jongin thinks it’s a bit funny that he knows what’s going on there more than Junmyeon does.
“His stomach hurts,” Wu Fan answers, gently pulling Jongin upwards. He sits up mostly on his own, frowning when the shift in position causes his stomach to dip dangerously. Wu Fan gets him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him in close. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of him,” he tells Junmyeon as Jongin leans in, sighing as the scent of cinnamon that always lingers on Wu Fan curls around him. He’s warm and sturdy, guiding Jongin to his room carefully even if Jongin is perfectly capable of walking on his own.
“I’ll be okay, ge,” Jongin says, Mandarin still a bit stilted even if he’s been practising obsessively lately to impress Wu Fan. He doesn’t get a response, Wu Fan opening his bedroom door and taking him to his bed. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“I’d rather it didn’t hurt at all,” Wu Fan tells him, getting him to lie down on his bed. Jongin just smiles, glad that he wasn’t in the hoodie he’d worn all day anymore. He always feels too hot, clothes a bothersome layer.
“It’ll go away,” he assures, wincing as his throat reflexively closes, stomach’s contents churning torturously. He really doesn’t want to throw up, least of all in front of Wu Fan. That would be really fucking embarrassing.
Wu Fan sits down next to him on the bed, hand sweeping his fringe out of his eyes before curling into his hair again. “I hope so. I’m going to get you something for it, okay? Sit tight.”
“No, ge,” Jongin whines, grabbing Wu Fan’s cardigan as he rises off the bed. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be right back, Jongin,” Wu Fan soothes, attempting to unclasp Jongin’s fingers from his cardigan. Jongin holds it even tighter, pouting as much as he can through the gross way his stomach twists.
“No, stay,” he repeats, pulling on the cardigan, childishness getting the better of him. “Please.”
“You’re being a brat,” Wu Fan informs him, even as he sinks back down onto the bed, lying down next to Jongin, arm fitting under Jongin’s neck. Jongin only grins as he curls into his side, legs tangling with Wu Fan’s. “Don’t throw up on me.”
“That’s mean,” Jongin protests, sticking his tongue out at Wu Fan before settling his head onto his chest. “You’re supposed to be nicer to sick people.”
“Oh, am I?” Wu Fan teases, fingers finding their way into Jongins hair again. He plays with the strands, twirling some of the longer strands around his fingers before they fall back down. It’s comforting, Wu Fan is always comforting.
“Yeah,” Jongin says, tracing circles into Wu Fan’s side with his index finger. His jaw clenches as he attempts to pretend he’s not feeling nauseous but Wu Fan catches it, hand stilling.
“Maybe I should kiss it better,” he suggests, pushing Jongin onto his back. Jongin flushes, afraid to meet Wu Fan’s eyes, the large hand he feels pressed against his stomach hot against his skin even through Jongin’s t-shirt.
“Does that work?” Jongin breathes as he feels Wu Fan lift his shirt upwards, hand rubbing soft circles against Jongin’s bare skin. It makes him shiver, eyes closing briefly.
“How about we test it out?” Wu Fan smiles, voice soft and Jongin bites his lip when he feels Wu Fan’s lips press against his tummy. His head feels a little light, focus lifted off the way his stomach is twisting.
“It feels nice,” Jongin murmurs, cheeks burning at the admission. Wu Fan chuckles, kissing Jongin’s tummy again before looking up at him.
“I told Chanyeol to go get you medication, so let me go get it.” This time Jongin just nods, Wu Fan’s smile fond as he gives him a small peck on the lips before leaving. Jongin sighs stupidly, tugging his shirt down and closing his eyes.
He’s shaken awake just as sleep claims him, Wu Fan’s face blurring into focus. “Hyung.”
“For your stomach,” Wu Fan whispers to him, a bottle of water in one hand and a box of medication in the other. Jongin nods his head, sitting up and opens his mouth expectantly. Wu Fan laughs, pinching his nose before he places two white round pills onto his tongue before pushing his mouth closed. He hands Jongin the water bottle, which Jongin takes a few sips from before pushing it back at Wu Fan and flopping back down onto the bed.
“Thanks,” Jongin mumbles, smiling up at Wu Fan happily.
“You seem better already,” Wu Fan grins, placing the water bottle and medicine on the floor beside Jongin’s bed.
Jongin wants to tell him it’s because Wu Fan take such good care of him but the very thought of it makes him flush with embarrassment. Instead, he pulls Wu Fan’s hand to his lips and kisses it. It surprises Wu Fan, but he smiles really big and Jongin thinks it’s the nicest.
“You can go hang out with everyone else,” Jongin offers. He doesn’t really want him to but Wu Fan’s done enough as it is and it’s not like the twelve of them get together for very long now-a-days.
“I think I’m okay,” Wu Fan says but his brow furrows nervously. “Or do you want me to go?”
“No, I -- you can stay, if you want,” Jongin fumbles, blushing again. The way Wu Fan laughs is telling of the fact that he set Jongin up and Jongin smacks him, hiding his face into his pillow, feeling stupid.
“You’re cute,” Wu Fan whispers into his ear, settling in next to Jongin. He wraps Jongin into his arms, a hand sliding up Jongin’s back underneath his t-shirt. Jongin tucks his face into the crook of his neck, eyes closing as he relaxes. His stomach isn’t churning painfully anymore and he wonders if that’s because of the medicine or because Wu Fan’s kissed him better.
- it only took me forever to write them but yay, i did :)
-thankyou for reading!!!