hc_bingo fic: pandemics and epidemics
Title: Illness Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Fandom: DBSK
Pairing: none
Prompt: Pandemics and Epidemics
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1113
Summary: When everyone gets sick in the middle of a busy schedule, what’s a flustered band umma to do?
AN: Written, as the subject and tag say, for hc_bingo. Masterpost with game card is here.
If he had to make one more pot of comfort-jjigae, he was going to snap. ...Okay, no, no, he wasn’t going to snap, he was going to calmly and rationally... pour it into their manager’s lap. Preferably while it was still boiling.
No. No, he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t their manager’s fault. Mostly. Even if he had told Sooman that they were all perfectly fine and ready to travel when asked, despite Yoochun hacking up a lung and Changmin curled under his covers like a giant pill bug. How the hell were they supposed to sing when Yunho croaked like a frog every time he opened his mouth? And Junsu...
Well, Junsu was always perfect, even when he felt like crap. Jaejoong hated it. It was a whole different kind of sickening, even if he didn’t really hate it because he knew Junsu would crash harder than any of them because of it the second they had a down day.
Which, looking at the calendar, was not going to be for a very long time.
He almost wanted to cry.
Except if he took the time to cry, then the food would go cold and they’d never get better and they’d all sound horrible and their careers would be over and it’d be all his fault. So he didn’t.
He dished the first bowl up and left the rest of the pot to simmer so it wouldn’t burn or cool off. The first bowl always went to Changmin, of course. The fans joked that he was the baby, and they weren’t always wrong. Changmin was so much younger than them, and he’d spent most of his best years pushing himself to keep up with them. How was Jaejoong supposed to not want to baby him, even if he did punch harder than the rest of them?
Feeding Changmin when he was sick was something of an exercise in patience. Or maybe it just seemed that way because it was such a contrast to the usually supremely self-reliant maknae. The first hurdle was always to find him. Yes, he was still in his bed, but when he was sick he tended to sleep with so many pillows under so many blankets that he became just one lump among many. Jaejoong sat the bowl aside, poking and prodding at the blankets until a lump moved on its own. Victory was in sight. But the second and even larger hurdle was convincing Changmin, or rather Changmin’s stomach, that coming out from under the blankets for food was worth it. He took a deep breath and put on his most annoying ‘rise and shine and enjoy the day~’ voice. “Minnie-ah~ Wake up. Time for din-din~”
Thankfully, Changmin’s well-honed disgust for cute things prevailed over his slightly less well-honed sense of self-preservation. He head appeared around the edge of the covers, glowering as much out of malice as the change in light. “...Din-din?”
Jaejoong managed a smile, holding out the bowl. “Got your attention. Eat what you can. I’ll come get the bowl later.”
A slightly less hostile frown. “Hyung...”
“Just eat, Min-ah. They’re not giving you guys any extra time to get better.” He ran a hand through Changmin’s messy hair before handing him the bowl and escaping before Changmin could protest any more. He was too busy taking care of everyone else to let them be concerned about him. And still three more stops before he could clean up the kitchen and take a break.
Really, what had management expected, flying them back and forth between two countries in the middle of a flu outbreak of all things. Did management think they were invincible?
Actually, management probably did. It would explain a lot.
Next to Junsu because he was the easiest to deal with. When he was actually sick, he became a holy terror of epic proportions, keeping the entire apartment on edge, but when he was still trying to stoically hold off illness until the last possible moment, he was surprisingly cooperative. He took his soup quietly, content to eat it on the couch while texting his brother. Their phone bill would be even larger this month with Junsu trying to rest his voice. It did make the apartment disturbingly quiet, though.
Jaejoong paused, third bowl in hand. Yoochun or Yunho next. Well, he was already practically going in reverse age order, so Yoochun. Who was staring out his window with a notepad and pen in his lap instead of resting. He laughed sheepishly when Jaejoong just looked at him and crawled back into bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Of course he couldn’t. Jaejoong handed him the bowl and spoon. “You’re still supposed to try.”
“Yes, mother.” Yoochun stuck his tongue out, safe in the knowledge that Jaejoong wouldn’t hit a dying man. Unfortunately, Yoochun knew him too well. Jaejoong just stuck his tongue out right back and left the room with dire promises of future retribution.
Finally, one last bowl. There was a bit left in the pot, so he put it away in the fridge and cleaned up a bit before heading to Yunho’s room. The lights were off, just the soft glow of afternoon sunlight seeping in under the curtains. Jaejoong left the bowl on the end table and crawled on the bed to curl up next to Yunho. “Time for din-din, leadersshi.”
Yunho chuckled hoarsely, folding himself around Jaejoong. “You said that to Changmin, didn’t you.”
“Maybe. It got him out of bed to eat, though.” He’d learned to always cherish the small victories.
“And what about you?” Trust Yunho to worry about other people first. “Are you still feeling okay?”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes, sitting up enough to reach for the bowl and hand it over. “Eat first. Question my motives, later.”
“Joongie...”
“Later, leadersshi. I’m okay. Now eat.” Honestly, he felt almost as much like shit as the rest of them, but someone had to take care of everyone else.
“When you collapse, you’ll forgive us for ordering take-out, right?” And Yunho really needed to stop reading his mind.
“If I collapse, which I won’t, I expect a perfect, gourmet five-course meal with more side dishes than we have bowls for. All fresh, made by your own two hands. And fresh-grown lettuce, too.” Yunho’s laugh sounded horrible but it still made Jaejoong feel better. He didn’t even feel the urge to pour boiling jjigae on their manager anymore.
Maybe he’d just start a rumor or two instead. Keep management on their toes for a while. But all for later. For now, he had a Yunho and a warm bed. The world was good enough. For now.
Fandom: DBSK
Pairing: none
Prompt: Pandemics and Epidemics
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1113
Summary: When everyone gets sick in the middle of a busy schedule, what’s a flustered band umma to do?
AN: Written, as the subject and tag say, for hc_bingo. Masterpost with game card is here.
If he had to make one more pot of comfort-jjigae, he was going to snap. ...Okay, no, no, he wasn’t going to snap, he was going to calmly and rationally... pour it into their manager’s lap. Preferably while it was still boiling.
No. No, he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t their manager’s fault. Mostly. Even if he had told Sooman that they were all perfectly fine and ready to travel when asked, despite Yoochun hacking up a lung and Changmin curled under his covers like a giant pill bug. How the hell were they supposed to sing when Yunho croaked like a frog every time he opened his mouth? And Junsu...
Well, Junsu was always perfect, even when he felt like crap. Jaejoong hated it. It was a whole different kind of sickening, even if he didn’t really hate it because he knew Junsu would crash harder than any of them because of it the second they had a down day.
Which, looking at the calendar, was not going to be for a very long time.
He almost wanted to cry.
Except if he took the time to cry, then the food would go cold and they’d never get better and they’d all sound horrible and their careers would be over and it’d be all his fault. So he didn’t.
He dished the first bowl up and left the rest of the pot to simmer so it wouldn’t burn or cool off. The first bowl always went to Changmin, of course. The fans joked that he was the baby, and they weren’t always wrong. Changmin was so much younger than them, and he’d spent most of his best years pushing himself to keep up with them. How was Jaejoong supposed to not want to baby him, even if he did punch harder than the rest of them?
Feeding Changmin when he was sick was something of an exercise in patience. Or maybe it just seemed that way because it was such a contrast to the usually supremely self-reliant maknae. The first hurdle was always to find him. Yes, he was still in his bed, but when he was sick he tended to sleep with so many pillows under so many blankets that he became just one lump among many. Jaejoong sat the bowl aside, poking and prodding at the blankets until a lump moved on its own. Victory was in sight. But the second and even larger hurdle was convincing Changmin, or rather Changmin’s stomach, that coming out from under the blankets for food was worth it. He took a deep breath and put on his most annoying ‘rise and shine and enjoy the day~’ voice. “Minnie-ah~ Wake up. Time for din-din~”
Thankfully, Changmin’s well-honed disgust for cute things prevailed over his slightly less well-honed sense of self-preservation. He head appeared around the edge of the covers, glowering as much out of malice as the change in light. “...Din-din?”
Jaejoong managed a smile, holding out the bowl. “Got your attention. Eat what you can. I’ll come get the bowl later.”
A slightly less hostile frown. “Hyung...”
“Just eat, Min-ah. They’re not giving you guys any extra time to get better.” He ran a hand through Changmin’s messy hair before handing him the bowl and escaping before Changmin could protest any more. He was too busy taking care of everyone else to let them be concerned about him. And still three more stops before he could clean up the kitchen and take a break.
Really, what had management expected, flying them back and forth between two countries in the middle of a flu outbreak of all things. Did management think they were invincible?
Actually, management probably did. It would explain a lot.
Next to Junsu because he was the easiest to deal with. When he was actually sick, he became a holy terror of epic proportions, keeping the entire apartment on edge, but when he was still trying to stoically hold off illness until the last possible moment, he was surprisingly cooperative. He took his soup quietly, content to eat it on the couch while texting his brother. Their phone bill would be even larger this month with Junsu trying to rest his voice. It did make the apartment disturbingly quiet, though.
Jaejoong paused, third bowl in hand. Yoochun or Yunho next. Well, he was already practically going in reverse age order, so Yoochun. Who was staring out his window with a notepad and pen in his lap instead of resting. He laughed sheepishly when Jaejoong just looked at him and crawled back into bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Of course he couldn’t. Jaejoong handed him the bowl and spoon. “You’re still supposed to try.”
“Yes, mother.” Yoochun stuck his tongue out, safe in the knowledge that Jaejoong wouldn’t hit a dying man. Unfortunately, Yoochun knew him too well. Jaejoong just stuck his tongue out right back and left the room with dire promises of future retribution.
Finally, one last bowl. There was a bit left in the pot, so he put it away in the fridge and cleaned up a bit before heading to Yunho’s room. The lights were off, just the soft glow of afternoon sunlight seeping in under the curtains. Jaejoong left the bowl on the end table and crawled on the bed to curl up next to Yunho. “Time for din-din, leadersshi.”
Yunho chuckled hoarsely, folding himself around Jaejoong. “You said that to Changmin, didn’t you.”
“Maybe. It got him out of bed to eat, though.” He’d learned to always cherish the small victories.
“And what about you?” Trust Yunho to worry about other people first. “Are you still feeling okay?”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes, sitting up enough to reach for the bowl and hand it over. “Eat first. Question my motives, later.”
“Joongie...”
“Later, leadersshi. I’m okay. Now eat.” Honestly, he felt almost as much like shit as the rest of them, but someone had to take care of everyone else.
“When you collapse, you’ll forgive us for ordering take-out, right?” And Yunho really needed to stop reading his mind.
“If I collapse, which I won’t, I expect a perfect, gourmet five-course meal with more side dishes than we have bowls for. All fresh, made by your own two hands. And fresh-grown lettuce, too.” Yunho’s laugh sounded horrible but it still made Jaejoong feel better. He didn’t even feel the urge to pour boiling jjigae on their manager anymore.
Maybe he’d just start a rumor or two instead. Keep management on their toes for a while. But all for later. For now, he had a Yunho and a warm bed. The world was good enough. For now.