fic: in sickness and in health [block b; various pairings; pg]
in sickness and in health
block b; jaekyung, zikyung, bjae; pg-13; 1900
three sickness related block b drabbles.
jaekyung; au; 390 w
Kyung sniffles as he rolls over, covers raised all the way to his nose. Jaehyo can’t help the hand he runs through his friend’s hair, knowing that maybe Kyung won’t like it. But Jaehyo’s just concerned and Jiho can just shut up about how he’s obviously got the hots for Kyung.
“How’re you feeling?” he murmurs, Kyung’s hair sweaty, skin burning.
“Like shit,” Kyung says, voice coarse and guttural. He sounds awful and Jaehyo has to fight down his natural instinct to hug him.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jaehyo whispers, already thinking about bringing a wet cloth over to press against Kyung’s forehead, relive some of the stress from the fever. Kyung says nothing, and Jaehyo thinks that perhaps he’s too tired to respond, that maybe he shouldn’t bother Kyung so much.
“Will you sing to me?” Kyung asks him, just as Jaehyo rises off of the bed and Jaehyo’s so surprised, he just sort of falls back. He can feel Kyung’s boney frame through the blanket he’s wrapped himself in, can feel the occasional shudder that runs through Kyung as he tries to dig himself deeper into his bed.
“Ah, I can’t even sing-”
“Don’t lie, hyung,” Kyung mumbles, turning his head to look at Jaehyo. There is an odd sort of hurt in Jaehyo’s heart as he sees Kyung and he finds his hand stretching to push Kyung’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “Your voice is just as nice as Taeil hyung’s.”
“Wh-what?” Jaehyo stumbles on the word, sure that Kyung’s more than just delirious with fever.
“Jiho recorded you singing, I have the video on my phone.”
Jaehyo’s too surprised to say much, eyes widening, a blush finding its way to his cheeks.
“Your voice is so nice, hyung. Actually,” Kyung pauses, hesitancy flashing in his eyes before he grins, a bit like his usual self, brazen and a bit thoughtless. “You’re really nice.”
“I am…?” Jaehyo starts, not sure what Kyung is trying to say, too afraid to let the weight of his words explode into the possibilities Jaehyo wants.
“Yeah,” Kyung smiles, eyes drooping with sleep. Jaehyo can feel warmth spread throughout his body, smiling in return, soft and small.
He sings quietly, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him, sure that Kyung was already off in dream land.
zikyung; canonverse; 480 w
When Jiho gets sick, Kyung avoids him, a slightly grossed out expression plastered over his face every time they’re forced into the same room, the same small little van with each other.
“Stop being such a dick,” Jiho tells him, voice raspy and rough from his constant coughing. He’s got an almost murderous expression on his face, leaning back against his seat, eyes straining to stay open. Kyung feels almost sympathetic but reminds himself that sympathy for the enemy is what gets you sick.
“Well excuse me for not wanting to get whatever plague you have,” Kyung snaps back, irritated that he had to sit next to Jiho in the van. Kyung wasn’t really such an asshole about the flu but every time Jiho got sick, it would be a matter of days before Kyung would be doubling over, hacking out his lungs too.
It’s like they had one immune system between the two of them.
“Fuck you,” Jiho snarls, or, well, he attempts to before he’s dry hacking right into their shared breathing space and Kyung is too old to be this fucking squeamish but he leans as far away as he can, practically in Minhyuk’s lap.
“You’re such an asshole,” Minhyuk says, as Kyung rights himself once Jiho’s stopped spreading his germs to everyone.
Jiho says nothing though, just seems to curl in on himself, head falling against the cool glass of the windows and Kyung does feel a bit like a dick.
“Shut up,” he mutters and Minhyuk shrugs, turning away from Kyung to look out the window too.
They let Jiho sit out for dance practise, and really Kyung thinks he shouldn’t be with them at all in the first place; he should be in bed, at home, resting. Shooting their manager a dirty look, Kyung walks over to where Jiho is leaning against a wall. He has his hood up, headphones in and Kyung has to shake him to get his attention.
“You alright?” Kyung asks, offering the water bottle in his hand over.
Jiho stares at the water bottle before accepting it, hands freezing. “I thought you were afraid of my plague.”
Kyung shrugs, giving Jiho a smirk and Jiho rolls his eyes, twisting the bottle open to take a sip of water. “I have a reputation, you know.”
“What reputation?” Jiho snorts, voice still too raspy to hold his usual snark.
“Shut up and give me your hands.”
“Why?”
“They’re freezing,” Kyung offers as an answer, before grabbing Jiho’s left hand. Jiho lets him take it without any protest and as Kyung rubs the cold fingers between his own warmer ones, Jiho gives him a small smile, the sort he only reserves for Kyung.
Kyung knows he’s going to end up sick and when he does, he also knows Jiho’s going to be an ass about it. Still, some kindness now will pay off later.
bjae; canonverse; 961 w
Jaehyo pulls the covers of his blanket higher, the eight layers he was wearing suddenly not enough to keep the chills away. He can faintly hear the rest of his bandmates making a ruckus in the sitting room, Jiho’s hoarse voice among them.
There is a part of Jaehyo that resents Jiho’s ability to weather anything, fevers and teasing alike, as if there was nothing that could knock Jiho down. But he sniffles, runny nose dripping, forgetting for a moment the fun he could be having and attempting to find the box of Kleenex he’d brought to bed with him.
His right hand pats around the empty space in his bed, manages to find Piglet - who Jaehyo draws closer - but no tissues. Sighing, Jaehyo pushes his comforter off of himself, peering over the edge of his bed. It doesn’t come as surprise to find the box lying on the floor, Jaehyo only making it out due to the stark contrast of the white tissue against the darkness of the room.
There is no way he is going to climb down to go grab the tissues, Jaehyo thinks to himself, already drawing his blanket upwards again. Slightly grossed out by himself, Jaehyo wipes his snot on the arm of his hoodie.
“Fuck everything,” he mumbles, voice hardly his own. His head is pounding, his body aches with imaginary pain, and his lungs feel like they’ve been filed with glue. Jaehyo wonders why this all had to happen during their comeback.
In all his self-pitying, Jaehyo doesn’t see the door open until Minhyuk’s deeper voice seems to break him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, Jaehyo?”
Jaehyo sniffles in response, head poking out of his blankets. Piglet is pressed against his chest, warm and cuddly but Jaehyo really wishes it was his mother’s palm rubbing vapour rub. He can make out Minhyuk’s silhouette in the frame of the door, light from the sitting room flooding inside.
“Hyung, I’m dying,” Jaehyo groans, unsure if Minhyuk’s even heard him. He doesn’t even call Minhyuk hyung, but he feels like a small child right now, wanting nothing more than a little attention.
Minhyuk laughs, as if Jaehyo’s deteriorating health were funny. “You’re not dying.”
“How do you know?” Jaehyo mumbles, eyes beginning to water from staring at the light.
“Because your hyung’s going to take care of you,” Minhyuk tells him. Jaehyo’s a little surprised, watching as Minhyuk closes the door. He can make out a bowl in Minhyuk’s hands now, eyes having adjusted to the dark a while ago.
Minhyuk makes his way across the room, picking up the abandoned box of Kleenex as he reached Jaehyo’s bed. He smiles at Jaehyo as he stand upright again, and Jaehyo can see the washcloth in the bowl now, imagines how cool it must be.
“What if you get sick?” Jaehyo asks, voice quiet, raspy around the edges.
“I don’t get sick,” Minhyuk answers, entirely too sure. He grins at Jaehyo though, climbing up the ladder to Jaehyo’s top bunk bed. Jaehyo’s bed isn’t too big, but he manages to scoot closer to the wall to make room for Minhyuk. There’s enough space for Minhyuk to sit a little awkwardly, legs crossed.
“Minhyuk shin,” Jaehyo smiles softly, as Minhyuk presses the washcloth he’s squeezed the water out of against Jaehyo’s skin. It feels like summer rain, refreshing. Jaehyo closes his eyes at the relief, letting out a satisfied sigh. This earns him a quiet laugh from Minhyuk but Jaehyo thinks that’s okay, Minhyuk could laugh all he wanted.
“Yeah, exactly, gods don’t get sick,” Minhyuk says, voice soft. It’s comforting in the way Jaehyo’s always noticed it to be, in the way it settles around him and tells his heart to take a break, rest for a while. Or maybe Jaehyo’s just delirious.
“Hyung’s so nice,” Jaehyo mumbles.
“Is he?” Minhyuk plays along, changing the washcloth. Jaehyo opens his eyes to convey his gratitude properly but feels his stomach dip in a way completely unrelated to how sick he feels. Minhyuk’s indulgent smile is a little too much, and Jaehyo tells himself that he’s obviously beyond the point of recovery.
“Yeah.”
Minhyuk says nothing for a while, changing the washcloth every few minutes, swiping Jaehyo’s fringe off of his forehead. Jaehyo finds it impossible to keep his eyes open, sleep catching up with him.
“Are you gonna go?” he asks, incoherent and tired, suddenly worried that Minhyuk would leave him once he fell asleep.
“Did you want me to stay?” Minhyuk responds, hand stilling from where it’d been rubbing soft circles against his cheek. Maybe Jaehyo imagines the little hitch in Minhyuk’s voice but he hopes not.
“Please,” Jaehyo replies, using every ounce of energy in himself to give Minhyuk a pleading look. His eyes, however, refuse to stay open for too long so he shuffles towards the wall a little more, pushing his blanket down to give Minhyuk a little more space.
“Okay, I’ll stay, don’t worry.” Jaehyo feels Minhyuk shift on the bed, feels his presence disappear and tells himself that obviously Minhyuk couldn’t sleep holding a bowl of water all night. He would be back. He promised so.
His heart seems to swoop upwards when he feels Minhyuk lie down next to him, childish pleasure mixing in with a sense of being spoiled. “What if you get sick?”
“Sssh, sleep,” Minhyuk tells him instead, shifting to let Jaehyo press his head against his chest. Jaehyo knows he must feel like a sauna but Minhyuk wraps his arm around Jaehyo, their legs entangling. He feels the press of lips against the top of his head and can’t help but smile, entirely too pleased.
“Thank-you,” he mumbles as he finally falls into the welcoming arms of sleep.
- there were supposed to be more but then the block b "scandal" happened.
- lost a lot of the feelings behind this. /shrugs but i do hope you guys enjoy what's here :)
block b; jaekyung, zikyung, bjae; pg-13; 1900
three sickness related block b drabbles.
jaekyung; au; 390 w
Kyung sniffles as he rolls over, covers raised all the way to his nose. Jaehyo can’t help the hand he runs through his friend’s hair, knowing that maybe Kyung won’t like it. But Jaehyo’s just concerned and Jiho can just shut up about how he’s obviously got the hots for Kyung.
“How’re you feeling?” he murmurs, Kyung’s hair sweaty, skin burning.
“Like shit,” Kyung says, voice coarse and guttural. He sounds awful and Jaehyo has to fight down his natural instinct to hug him.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jaehyo whispers, already thinking about bringing a wet cloth over to press against Kyung’s forehead, relive some of the stress from the fever. Kyung says nothing, and Jaehyo thinks that perhaps he’s too tired to respond, that maybe he shouldn’t bother Kyung so much.
“Will you sing to me?” Kyung asks him, just as Jaehyo rises off of the bed and Jaehyo’s so surprised, he just sort of falls back. He can feel Kyung’s boney frame through the blanket he’s wrapped himself in, can feel the occasional shudder that runs through Kyung as he tries to dig himself deeper into his bed.
“Ah, I can’t even sing-”
“Don’t lie, hyung,” Kyung mumbles, turning his head to look at Jaehyo. There is an odd sort of hurt in Jaehyo’s heart as he sees Kyung and he finds his hand stretching to push Kyung’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “Your voice is just as nice as Taeil hyung’s.”
“Wh-what?” Jaehyo stumbles on the word, sure that Kyung’s more than just delirious with fever.
“Jiho recorded you singing, I have the video on my phone.”
Jaehyo’s too surprised to say much, eyes widening, a blush finding its way to his cheeks.
“Your voice is so nice, hyung. Actually,” Kyung pauses, hesitancy flashing in his eyes before he grins, a bit like his usual self, brazen and a bit thoughtless. “You’re really nice.”
“I am…?” Jaehyo starts, not sure what Kyung is trying to say, too afraid to let the weight of his words explode into the possibilities Jaehyo wants.
“Yeah,” Kyung smiles, eyes drooping with sleep. Jaehyo can feel warmth spread throughout his body, smiling in return, soft and small.
He sings quietly, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him, sure that Kyung was already off in dream land.
zikyung; canonverse; 480 w
When Jiho gets sick, Kyung avoids him, a slightly grossed out expression plastered over his face every time they’re forced into the same room, the same small little van with each other.
“Stop being such a dick,” Jiho tells him, voice raspy and rough from his constant coughing. He’s got an almost murderous expression on his face, leaning back against his seat, eyes straining to stay open. Kyung feels almost sympathetic but reminds himself that sympathy for the enemy is what gets you sick.
“Well excuse me for not wanting to get whatever plague you have,” Kyung snaps back, irritated that he had to sit next to Jiho in the van. Kyung wasn’t really such an asshole about the flu but every time Jiho got sick, it would be a matter of days before Kyung would be doubling over, hacking out his lungs too.
It’s like they had one immune system between the two of them.
“Fuck you,” Jiho snarls, or, well, he attempts to before he’s dry hacking right into their shared breathing space and Kyung is too old to be this fucking squeamish but he leans as far away as he can, practically in Minhyuk’s lap.
“You’re such an asshole,” Minhyuk says, as Kyung rights himself once Jiho’s stopped spreading his germs to everyone.
Jiho says nothing though, just seems to curl in on himself, head falling against the cool glass of the windows and Kyung does feel a bit like a dick.
“Shut up,” he mutters and Minhyuk shrugs, turning away from Kyung to look out the window too.
They let Jiho sit out for dance practise, and really Kyung thinks he shouldn’t be with them at all in the first place; he should be in bed, at home, resting. Shooting their manager a dirty look, Kyung walks over to where Jiho is leaning against a wall. He has his hood up, headphones in and Kyung has to shake him to get his attention.
“You alright?” Kyung asks, offering the water bottle in his hand over.
Jiho stares at the water bottle before accepting it, hands freezing. “I thought you were afraid of my plague.”
Kyung shrugs, giving Jiho a smirk and Jiho rolls his eyes, twisting the bottle open to take a sip of water. “I have a reputation, you know.”
“What reputation?” Jiho snorts, voice still too raspy to hold his usual snark.
“Shut up and give me your hands.”
“Why?”
“They’re freezing,” Kyung offers as an answer, before grabbing Jiho’s left hand. Jiho lets him take it without any protest and as Kyung rubs the cold fingers between his own warmer ones, Jiho gives him a small smile, the sort he only reserves for Kyung.
Kyung knows he’s going to end up sick and when he does, he also knows Jiho’s going to be an ass about it. Still, some kindness now will pay off later.
bjae; canonverse; 961 w
Jaehyo pulls the covers of his blanket higher, the eight layers he was wearing suddenly not enough to keep the chills away. He can faintly hear the rest of his bandmates making a ruckus in the sitting room, Jiho’s hoarse voice among them.
There is a part of Jaehyo that resents Jiho’s ability to weather anything, fevers and teasing alike, as if there was nothing that could knock Jiho down. But he sniffles, runny nose dripping, forgetting for a moment the fun he could be having and attempting to find the box of Kleenex he’d brought to bed with him.
His right hand pats around the empty space in his bed, manages to find Piglet - who Jaehyo draws closer - but no tissues. Sighing, Jaehyo pushes his comforter off of himself, peering over the edge of his bed. It doesn’t come as surprise to find the box lying on the floor, Jaehyo only making it out due to the stark contrast of the white tissue against the darkness of the room.
There is no way he is going to climb down to go grab the tissues, Jaehyo thinks to himself, already drawing his blanket upwards again. Slightly grossed out by himself, Jaehyo wipes his snot on the arm of his hoodie.
“Fuck everything,” he mumbles, voice hardly his own. His head is pounding, his body aches with imaginary pain, and his lungs feel like they’ve been filed with glue. Jaehyo wonders why this all had to happen during their comeback.
In all his self-pitying, Jaehyo doesn’t see the door open until Minhyuk’s deeper voice seems to break him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, Jaehyo?”
Jaehyo sniffles in response, head poking out of his blankets. Piglet is pressed against his chest, warm and cuddly but Jaehyo really wishes it was his mother’s palm rubbing vapour rub. He can make out Minhyuk’s silhouette in the frame of the door, light from the sitting room flooding inside.
“Hyung, I’m dying,” Jaehyo groans, unsure if Minhyuk’s even heard him. He doesn’t even call Minhyuk hyung, but he feels like a small child right now, wanting nothing more than a little attention.
Minhyuk laughs, as if Jaehyo’s deteriorating health were funny. “You’re not dying.”
“How do you know?” Jaehyo mumbles, eyes beginning to water from staring at the light.
“Because your hyung’s going to take care of you,” Minhyuk tells him. Jaehyo’s a little surprised, watching as Minhyuk closes the door. He can make out a bowl in Minhyuk’s hands now, eyes having adjusted to the dark a while ago.
Minhyuk makes his way across the room, picking up the abandoned box of Kleenex as he reached Jaehyo’s bed. He smiles at Jaehyo as he stand upright again, and Jaehyo can see the washcloth in the bowl now, imagines how cool it must be.
“What if you get sick?” Jaehyo asks, voice quiet, raspy around the edges.
“I don’t get sick,” Minhyuk answers, entirely too sure. He grins at Jaehyo though, climbing up the ladder to Jaehyo’s top bunk bed. Jaehyo’s bed isn’t too big, but he manages to scoot closer to the wall to make room for Minhyuk. There’s enough space for Minhyuk to sit a little awkwardly, legs crossed.
“Minhyuk shin,” Jaehyo smiles softly, as Minhyuk presses the washcloth he’s squeezed the water out of against Jaehyo’s skin. It feels like summer rain, refreshing. Jaehyo closes his eyes at the relief, letting out a satisfied sigh. This earns him a quiet laugh from Minhyuk but Jaehyo thinks that’s okay, Minhyuk could laugh all he wanted.
“Yeah, exactly, gods don’t get sick,” Minhyuk says, voice soft. It’s comforting in the way Jaehyo’s always noticed it to be, in the way it settles around him and tells his heart to take a break, rest for a while. Or maybe Jaehyo’s just delirious.
“Hyung’s so nice,” Jaehyo mumbles.
“Is he?” Minhyuk plays along, changing the washcloth. Jaehyo opens his eyes to convey his gratitude properly but feels his stomach dip in a way completely unrelated to how sick he feels. Minhyuk’s indulgent smile is a little too much, and Jaehyo tells himself that he’s obviously beyond the point of recovery.
“Yeah.”
Minhyuk says nothing for a while, changing the washcloth every few minutes, swiping Jaehyo’s fringe off of his forehead. Jaehyo finds it impossible to keep his eyes open, sleep catching up with him.
“Are you gonna go?” he asks, incoherent and tired, suddenly worried that Minhyuk would leave him once he fell asleep.
“Did you want me to stay?” Minhyuk responds, hand stilling from where it’d been rubbing soft circles against his cheek. Maybe Jaehyo imagines the little hitch in Minhyuk’s voice but he hopes not.
“Please,” Jaehyo replies, using every ounce of energy in himself to give Minhyuk a pleading look. His eyes, however, refuse to stay open for too long so he shuffles towards the wall a little more, pushing his blanket down to give Minhyuk a little more space.
“Okay, I’ll stay, don’t worry.” Jaehyo feels Minhyuk shift on the bed, feels his presence disappear and tells himself that obviously Minhyuk couldn’t sleep holding a bowl of water all night. He would be back. He promised so.
His heart seems to swoop upwards when he feels Minhyuk lie down next to him, childish pleasure mixing in with a sense of being spoiled. “What if you get sick?”
“Sssh, sleep,” Minhyuk tells him instead, shifting to let Jaehyo press his head against his chest. Jaehyo knows he must feel like a sauna but Minhyuk wraps his arm around Jaehyo, their legs entangling. He feels the press of lips against the top of his head and can’t help but smile, entirely too pleased.
“Thank-you,” he mumbles as he finally falls into the welcoming arms of sleep.
- there were supposed to be more but then the block b "scandal" happened.
- lost a lot of the feelings behind this. /shrugs but i do hope you guys enjoy what's here :)