Work Text:
Minho's apartment is quiet when Hyunjin enters. Neither knocking nor ringing the doorbell had elicited any type of response, so he has decided to let himself in. “Minho-hyung?” he calls out, his heart racing with anxiousness. Still, all that greets him is silence. He chews on his bottom lip in contemplation, but ultimately decides to look through the place before moving on. The living room is empty save for the cats, as is the kitchen. The bathroom door is cracked open, and the light is turned off, so Hyunjin rules out that option as well.
Finally, Hyunjin knocks on the door to the bedroom. He hears the bed creaking and a muffled voice calling out: “What?” Hyunjin breathes a sigh of relief, feeling the anxiety dissipate somewhat. So Minho is definitely in there. That's good. He pushes the door open to find Minho curled up in bed with the covers pulled all the way up to his chin and only his head sticking out, and all the relief Hyunjin had just felt vanishes in an instant to make way for the worry to make its return. Minho looks fucking awful. He fixes his bleary, glassy eyes on Hyunjin and slurs: “Hyunjinnie? Wha–?” His voice cuts off into a croak, and he has to do a painful-looking swallow to try again. “What... what are you doing... here?”
“Hyung,” Hyunjin breathes out. His gaze darts around to take in Minho's disheveled appearance. “What's wrong?” Minho tries to answer, but instead of words, all that comes out is a sneeze, which subsequently sets off a coughing fit. Hyunjin's shoulders slump. Oh. He walks over to sit on the edge of the bed, despite Minho's attempted protests. When he puts his hand on Minho's clammy forehead, he can't help but hiss. “God, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell us you're sick?”
“Didn't want you to worry,” Minho mumbles. A shiver works its way through his body, violent enough to make his teeth chatter.
Hyunjin deadpans. “Texting Channie-hyung that you're not going to be able to make it to work today because 'something came up', and then ignoring all our texts and calls for hours afterwards isn't exactly going to make us worry less.” He chooses not to tell Minho about how Chan had called Hyunjin in a state of near-panic, asking him to please check up on Minho because he couldn't get a hold of him after receiving that cryptic message, and he couldn't leave the office to do it himself. He's not trying to guilt trip Minho. Hyunjin sighs and pets Minho's sweat-matted hair. “What do you need me to do?”
Minho shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I'm fine by myself. Go home.” It stings a little, how quick Minho is to turn down Hyunjin's help, but Hyunjin doesn't let it show.
“I'm not going to just leave you like this,” he insists. “Tell me what you need.” Even with Minho's weak expression, Hyunjin can see the way he sets his jaw in a stubborn clench. Hyunjin isn't willing to back down on this so easily, though, he just raises his eyebrows in challenge. Minho looks like he's about to object again, but Hyunjin cuts him off: “No. Just let me take care of you, hyung. For once.”
They stare at each other for a while in tense silence until all the fight seeps out of Minho, and he averts his gaze. “Fine,” he relents reluctantly, and Hyunjin smiles.
Hyunjin texts Chan to call him when he gets the chance, and Chan does so while Hyunjin is at the grocery store. “Hey,” he greets Hyunjin, sounding a little out of breath. “Everything alright? Did you manage to get a hold of Minho?”
“He's sick,” Hyunjin explains. “I went to his apartment to look for him and found him in bed looking like shit.” He shoots a sheepish, apologetic grin at the elderly lady next to him, who glares at him in affront at his use of profanity. “He probably has a cold or the flu or something, so I'm at the store now picking up some things for him.” Hyunjin's basket is full of an assortment of tea and honey and all the ingredients needed to make samgyetang. Also, several boxes of tissues.
On the other end of the line, Chan curses under his breath. “Why didn't he just tell us?”
“That's what I said,” Hyunjin agrees. He holds up two different types of cold medicine next to each other to compare before deciding to just get both of them. “He said he didn't want us to worry, but I told him that sending a weird text and then ghosting both of us didn't make us worry any less.” Chan just sighs. Hyunjin can imagine him probably running a hand over his face or pinching the bridge of his nose the way he usually does when he's frustrated about something. Hyunjin grimaces even though he knows Chan can't see it. “Hyung, he's going to be fine.”
“I know,” Chan says with another sigh. “I know, I just... yeah.” Hyunjin gets it, he thinks. What Hyunjin is feeling himself is not so much frustration, per se, but maybe more like disappointment? Maybe he feels a bit hurt that Minho wouldn't come to them for something like this? That he would rather hide it from them instead of letting them help? Hyunjin is aware that it's silly and selfish, and that Minho is a grown adult, who's allowed to deal with his problems any way he wishes, but still. Hyunjin can't stop his heart from aching just a little. “I'll come over after I'm done with work. Text me if either of you need anything.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin says. “Bye, hyung. I love you.” Chan mutters his own proclamation of love in return before hanging up, and Hyunjin goes back to picking out the final few things he intends to buy, heart heavy.
Minho is asleep when Hyunjin returns to the apartment, and Hyunjin decides it's probably better to let him rest. He spends a few minutes just watching Minho, face soft and vulnerable, breathing stuffy and ragged and scratchy. He's still curled up on his side, and he looks so unusually small. Hyunjin hates seeing him like this. He clenches his jaw. He's going to take care of Minho to ensure he recovers as quickly as possible, whether Minho likes it or not. Hyunjin leaves Minho to sleep and goes to the kitchen to prepare food for when he wakes up.
Hyunjin isn't too familiar with Minho's kitchen, and so it takes him a little longer to figure out where everything he needs is. It doesn't make it easier that all three cats are circling his ankles like tiny, hungry, wailing sharks from the moment he starts unpacking the chicken. They're cute, but they have a way of getting underfoot that is very inconvenient, especially when Hyunjin is wielding knives. He still feels bad any time he accidentally steps on one of their tails or paws, though, and he does feed them a few scraps. Unfortunately, this only seems to make them all the more persistent. Hyunjin sighs. Adorable little pests.
The pot has just come to a simmer when Hyunjin hears shuffling footsteps approaching. Minho has a blanket wrapped around himself, trailing behind him like a cape. His hair is defying gravity, his eyes are puffy, and his nose is red. He still looks awful, though somewhat more alert than he had been when Hyunjin first found him in the bedroom. “You're still here?” Minho rasps as he glances around the mess Hyunjin has made of his kitchen.
“You should stay in bed,” Hyunjin chides gently, and Minho grimaces.
“Too hot in there. Smells like germs. Had to open the window.”
Hyunjin looks skeptically at Minho's no doubt very stuffy nose. “Are you even capable of smelling anything at the moment?” he questions. Minho tries to glare at him, but it's not very intimidating when he looks like he could topple over at any second. Hyunjin sighs. He has to admit that airing out the bedroom is probably a pretty good idea, anyway. “At least go sit on the couch, then. What kind of tea do you want?” He's already reaching to fetch a cup from the cupboard he saw them in earlier.
“I can make my own tea,” Minho says, but Hyunjin only blinks at him and repeats, slower:
“What kind of tea do you want?”
Minho sniffs. “You're stubborn, aren't you?” he grumbles. Pot, meet kettle, Hyunjin thinks. He doesn't say anything, though, simply continues to regard Minho with a level gaze, arms crossed over his chest. It's the same kind of staredown they had earlier when Hyunjin had to talk Minho into being taken care of in the first place. Hyunjin still isn't going to back down. Minho lowers his eyes to look at the floor. He sniffs again. “Is there chamomile?” Of the half a dozen different teas Hyunjin bought, one of them is indeed chamomile.
“Go sit down,” Hyunjin says again, and this time, Minho actually listens.
By the time Hyunjin enters the living room carrying a steaming mug of tea, Minho is curled up on the couch with the blanket wrapped fully around himself. He sits a little more upright as Hyunjin approaches. “Don't think I'm letting you come anywhere near me when you're not wearing a mask,” Minho snaps. “I'm not risking infecting you with whatever shit I have.” Hyunjin sets the tea down on the end of the coffee table farthest away from Minho, and he takes a few steps backwards. It feels almost like a drug deal or a hostage exchange, and it would be a little comical, if Hyunjin wasn't currently so worried about Minho's condition. Minho picks the mug up and holds it between his hands that are still covered in the blanket. He takes a sip and shivers as the hot, honeyed beverage slides down his throat. “Thank you. Does this mean you'll finally go home?” It still hurts, somewhat, that Minho is so desperate to get rid of him when all Hyunjin is trying to do is help.
“No,” Hyunjin says softly. “Channie-hyung is coming over after work, too.”
Minho looks sharply towards him. As sharply as he can when his motions are sluggish and lethargic, at least. “Why?” he asks, and Hyunjin almost wants to laugh out of sheer incredulity. Why wouldn't Chan come over? Isn't it to be expected, a complete no-brainer, that Chan would come over to dote on his sick boyfriend? That's what Chan and Hyunjin always do when the other isn't feeling well.
“To help take care of you,” Hyunjin says. He's trying to sound firm, but he can't stop the frustration from slipping out. He's frustrated that Minho is fighting him every step of the way on this. Minho's eyes flash, and he's obviously about to protest again, but Hyunjin just shakes his head. “Nope. He's coming over.”
Clearly exasperated, Minho exhales harshly. “God, you're so fucking–!” The way he raises his voice makes it crack, which in turn makes another coughing fit rake through his body. It's bad enough that he has to set his cup down on the coffee table to keep from spilling all over himself, and Hyunjin takes a worried step closer, until he remembers what Minho said about not being allowed to go near him. Instead he hovers anxiously, wringing his hands as he watches Minho curl in on himself from coughing so hard.
Once it's over, Minho leans weakly against the armrest, trying to catch his breath. He looks miserable with his eyes closed and his sweat-beaded forehead wrinkled. Hyunjin presses his lips into a thin line. “Hyung,” he begins, but Minho makes a sharp noise to cut him off.
“Let me speak,” he says. His voice is thin and brittle. It sounds like it's painful for him to talk at all. “I love you... and I appreciate what... what you've done for me so far. But I... really want to be alone.”
“I'm just trying to take care of you.”
“I know,” Minho says. “You have, and thank you for that. But I can take care of myself.” So he insists, and yet he really doesn't come across as very convincing in his current state. Hyunjin wants to tell him no, that he obviously can't, that Hyunjin and Chan are going to help him and make him better, but Minho sighs, long and exhausted. “Hyunjinnie. You're kinda stomping all over my boundaries right now.” Suddenly, rather than adamant and firm, Hyunjin feels guilty. He had been so focused on his overpowering need to nurse Minho back to health that he hadn't considered what Minho actually needed. He figured he knew what was best for him and fully ignored Minho's wishes. Minho opens his eyes to look at Hyunjin again. “Please. Just go.”
Hyunjin's shoulders slump, and he averts his gaze. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn't mean to.”
“Hey, l-look at me.” Hyunjin does. Minho manages a smile, feeble though it may be. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Hyunjin says quietly. “I'll finish making the soup, and then I'll be out of your hair. And I'll text Channie-hyung not to come.” It's not what Hyunjin wants, but it's what Minho wants, and he has to respect that. “But you have to text or call regularly to tell us how you're doing, and I'm definitely making you eat something before I go.”
Minho scowls, though his mouth is twitching like he's fighting a smile. “You drive a hard bargain,” he says, then sighs. “I really wish you could kiss me right now.”
“Me too,” Hyunjin says. He settles for a flying kiss, pressing his lips to his hand and blowing it at Minho, who feigns catching it with his own lips. It's sappy and ridiculous, and Hyunjin can't help but laugh, the tension in his chest easing just a bit. It'll have to do.
The samgyetang has been divided into appropriate portions for Minho to heat up in the microwave. All the packets of tea have been set out on the kitchen counter for Minho to choose from. There are several bottles of cold water in the fridge and ice cubes in the freezer. The medicine and tissue boxes have been left within reach of Minho's nest on the couch. Hyunjin, although still reluctant to do so, goes home. On the way, he texts Chan, who reads the message, but doesn't reply. It's fine. They'll talk later.
Hyunjin sits at his favorite spot in the window nook with his sketchpad and a set of pencils. The sky is grey and gloomy, which seems oddly appropriate. It matches how Hyunjin feels. He realizes that he's being dramatic, and he tries to tell himself that he's ridiculous for sulking, but he can't stop it. He can't help but feel slighted and upset. He's sad that Minho isn't feeling well, and he's worried about him, and Hyunjin is allowed to be disappointed that he can't do anything to help him feel better. He keeps checking his phone just in case Minho sent some kind of update, even though he knows full well that it hasn't been very long since he left, and that Minho is most likely sleeping.
When Chan comes home, Hyunjin is still sitting in the same spot. “Hey,” Chan greets him softly as he enters the living room and approaches him. “You alright?”
Hyunjin grabs Chan by the front of the shirt and pulls him in so he can burrow his face into his chest. Suffocating himself in Chan's cleavage always did improve Hyunjin's mood. He exhales a frustrated sigh as Chan gently caresses his hair. “Minho-hyung pretty much kicked me out,” Hyunjin says with a pout that Chan can't even see. “He looked really bad, but he said he was fine to take care of himself. Didn't want me to help, just wanted to deal with it on his own.”
“Hmm,” Chan says. “That's very Minho-coded, isn't it?” Hyunjin sighs again. It really is, to be honest. He pulls back so he can look up at Chan, whose smile doesn't quite reach his eyes the way it usually does. He cups Hyunjin's face. “From what I've seen of him, he likes to be in control of everything at all times. That means himself as well. I know he doesn't like to be vulnerable and show his weaknesses, because that would mean losing that control.”
“Is it bad that I wish he would?” Hyunjin asks in a whisper.
Chan shrugs. “Maybe, but I feel the same way. I think it would probably be healthy for him to let go for once. I wish I could get to see him cry.” He pauses, then pulls a face. “Wait, that came out wrong.” Hyunjin giggles. He feels a little better, knowing that even if his emotions are dramatic and unreasonable and ridiculous, at least he's not alone with them. Chan feels the same way. Perhaps it's still fucked up. Perhaps they're both fucked up.
“I asked Minho-hyung to keep us updated on his condition,” Hyunjin says. “I keep checking to see if he sent anything, but he hasn't. I guess maybe he's asleep.”
There's a sly twist to Chan's lips. “He did text me,” he confesses, and Hyunjin's jaw drops open in surprise. Once it really sinks in, he pouts. How unfair that Chan gets a text and Hyunjin doesn't. Chan, seeming to notice Hyunjin's dissatisfaction, explains: “It was something about work. Well... mostly.”
“Mostly?” Hyunjin repeats, narrowing his eyes.
Humming, Chan brushes Hyunjin's hair behind his ear. “He also told me that since he's currently incapacitated, I should make sure to fuck you enough for both of us.”
“Oh,” Hyunjin says and gulps. Then, he smiles. “That's also very Minho-coded.”
Chan grins. “You're right,” he says. “It is.”
Throughout the rest of the day, Minho does send messages in their group chat. It starts as a trickle, then grows into a flood as time progresses. Some of them are just texts whining about how bored he is and how much he absolutely despises being sick. Some of them are pictures – one of him giving a thumbs up over a bowl of samgyetang, one of the massive tissue mountain he has accumulated, one of him with all three cats piled on top of him in various spots on his body as he lays on the couch looking pitiful.
send nudes, Minho texts at night when Hyunjin is brushing his teeth before bed. Hyunjin rolls his eyes in fond exasperation but snaps a mirror selfie nonetheless, throwing bedroom eyes at the camera, shirtless and with his underwear slung low enough on his hips to flash the barest hint of pubic hair. fukc i was jokin, Minho sends back almost immediately, and Hyunjin giggles to himself. Moments later, another picture pops up. This one is of Chan in bed, shot from the neck down as he grabs the outline of his cock through his briefs. It's enough to make Hyunjin choke on his toothpaste. Minho sees the message, but doesn't respond to this one.
“That was rude,” Hyunjin comments as he's about to crawl into bed with Chan.
Chan, knowing exactly what he's referring to, only shrugs with a smirk. “You started it.” Hyunjin changes trajectory and decides to throw off the covers and sit astride Chan's lap instead. Chan keeps grinning. He runs his hands up Hyunjin's bare thighs. Hyunjin pretends to scowl at him, but that doesn't throw Chan off one bit. He just raises his eyebrows. “What?”
Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. “Don't play coy with me,” he says with a huff. “I'll have you know you almost made me choke on my toothpaste because of that picture. I could have died.”
“Hm,” Chan says, sounding appallingly unconcerned as he gropes Hyunjin. “I have something else for you to choke on.” Hyunjin gapes at him. Fucking rude. His phone buzzes with an incoming message, but he ignores it in favor of bending down to kiss the smarmy smirk off Chan's face. Hyunjin is suddenly starting to understand why Chan and Minho get so riled up whenever he's being a brat on purpose.
“Brat,” Hyunjin mutters, nipping at Chan's bottom lip, and that smug grin is right back. Chan looks as if he's about to retort, but then Hyunjin's phone buzzes again, and then shortly after that a third time, and Chan pauses.
“Could be Minho,” he says quietly.
Hyunjin nods. “Could be,” he says, and he leans across to the nightstand to reach for his phone where it's plugged into the charger.
As it turns out, it is Minho. He has sent several texts in the group chat, but Chan always keeps his phone on Do Not Disturb after they're in bed, which is why only Hyunjin's phone buzzed. The first message is a long, wordy paragraph laying out in sappy details how much Minho misses them and how he wishes he could be there with them right now. It's enough to make Hyunjin a little misty-eyed, and Chan doesn't look much better off once Hyunjin reads it aloud to him. The second message is Minho blaming the cold medicine for the uncharacteristic outburst of emotions and telling them to disregard it entirely. The third message is him asking if they're fucking. Hyunjin chuckles wetly. How very Minho of him.
“Well, he did make me promise to keep you satisfied since he can't,” Chan says once Hyunjin reads the final message to him. He still has his hands resting at the top of Hyunjin's thighs, and he tightens his grasp slightly, just enough to squeeze. There's a question in his gaze.
Hyunjin wets his lips, eyebrows furrowing. “I love you and I want to have sex with you, but I think I'd just be worrying about Minho the whole time,” he admits. “I'd be too distracted.”
“Yeah, me too,” Chan sighs. He smiles cheekily. “Let's just say we're gonna fuck, anyway. Tell him what he wants to hear.” Hyunjin huffs. He aims his phone down to take a closeup shot of where Chan's hands are gripping his thighs, and he sends it to Minho without further context. Then, he climbs out of Chan's lap to curl up next to him instead, his arm around Chan's waist, his head on Chan's shoulder. Hyunjin kisses his neck, and a pleased shiver rakes through Chan's body. He kisses the top of Hyunjin's head in return. “I love you.”
“Love you too, hyung,” Hyunjin mutters. The bed feels weirdly empty without three people in it. It's strange to think that up until recently, it was just the two of them, and now their twosome feels incomplete. Hyunjin presses his lips into a thin line. “I really hope Minho-hyung gets better soon.” Chan only sighs in response and holds Hyunjin a little closer.
Hyunjin wakes up to the sound of Chan's hushed voice. “Hey,” Chan whispers. “Hey, hey, you're alright, tell me what's going on.” Immediately, Hyunjin is wide awake. Chan is sitting up in bed with his phone pressed to his ear. There's a troubled knit to his brow, and he's chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. Hyunjin takes in his concerned expression and feels his heart start racing.
“Is it Minho-hyung?” Hyunjin asks, and when Chan nods, he certainly doesn't feel any less worried. Something is clearly wrong. Hyunjin sits up as well as he tries to figure out what's going on with just the one side of the conversation he's privy to. All he can hear through the phone is Minho's cough, which somehow seems to sound even worse than it had earlier, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He sounds fucking awful. Hyunjin hates it. He grapples for his own phone to check for the time, curses when he realizes it's dead because he forgot to plug it back in.
“Fuck,” Chan says, wincing. “We're going to...” He hesitates, reconsiders. “Minho, do you want us to come over?” Hyunjin practically holds his breath as he anticipates the response. He can't actually hear what Minho says on the other end, but the way Chan pushes aside the covers right away and starts looking for clothes is enough for Hyunjin to understand and do the same. Chan sandwiches the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he fights to put on pants. “We'll get there as quickly as we can, okay, sweetheart? Just hang on. See you soon.” He shoves his phone into the pocket of the sweatpants he just put on, then he looks at Hyunjin with a terrified expression that breaks Hyunjin's heart. “Hyunjinnie, I'm... shit, he sounded really bad.”
“I know,” Hyunjin says. He cups Chan's face in both of his hands. “But we'll go over there and take care of him, yeah? We'll make him feel better.” Chan exhales a shaky sigh and nods, and Hyunjin forces himself to put on a smile, forces himself to be brave for both of them, and lands a brief kiss on Chan's pursed lips. “Are you okay to drive?”
They get to Minho's place faster than they probably legally should have been able to. Minho is still on the couch where he was when Hyunjin left, and his face crumbles when they enter the living room, both wearing masks like Minho had demanded. “Hi,” he whispers. Barely any sound comes out of him, only a weak, scratchy breath.
Chan is by Minho's side in a heartbeat, kneeling on the floor, brushing his bangs away from where they stick to his sweaty forehead. “Hey,” he says softly. “How're you doing?” Minho screws his face up even further, his lower lip wobbling precariously. Hyunjin's eyes widen in panic. Is Minho going to cry? Chan shushes him. “Hey, you're okay, you're okay. We're here now.” He strokes Minho's hair soothingly, and Minho sighs, his eyes slipping shut. “Let's get you to bed.”
Minho's eyes shoot open again when Chan puts an arm under the crook of his knees, an arm under his back, and lifts him off the couch in a bridal carry as if he weighs nothing. “I can walk,” Minho slurs, less snappish than he would have probably liked for it to come out.
“Sure you can,” Chan placates, and Minho gives up on protesting and lets himself be carried, even though he looks like a disgruntled cat about it. Hyunjin follows them to the bedroom. Chan sets Minho carefully down on the bed, sitting on the edge of it himself and putting a hand on Minho's forehead to feel his temperature. He tries to hold back his grimace, but Hyunjin sees him wince.
“Hurts to talk,” Minho croaks.
“Then don't,” Chan says.
“Hurts to breathe.”
“Well, we don't want you to stop doing that,” Hyunjin says. He smiles softly at Minho as he finally walks over to join them on the bed, crawling up to sit next to Minho's prone form.
Minho draws in a wheezy breath. “Baby,” he squeaks. He reaches out for Hyunjin, imploringly, desperately, and Hyunjin takes his outstretched hand and links their fingers together. Minho pouts. Fucking pouts. “'m sorry. I... I'm so sorry. I'm...”
Hyunjin shakes his head fervently. “Shhh, hey, it's okay, you don't have to say anything, it's okay, you're okay.” He caresses Minho's cheek, hot and clammy under his palm. Minho is trembling. He's breathing fast and ragged and panicked as he looks back and forth between them, Chan's hand stroking his hair, Hyunjin's hand on his cheek, on his jaw, on the side of his neck, touches gentle and soothing.
“You'll be fine,” Chan murmurs. He shifts to sit more fully on the bed. “You're alright. You'll be alright, kitten.” Hyunjin looks sharply at Chan, whose gaze flits briefly up to meet Hyunjin's. Chan looks taken aback, too, like he didn't mean for the pet name to slip out. It's the second time tonight. Hyunjin hasn't really noticed them using pet names with each other before, so it's new. It's something to think about later, though. They both look back down at Minho, directing their attention towards him for the time being. As they keep muttering soothing words to him, his breaths even out to something more mellow, and he's staring up at the ceiling with hazy eyes. He looks a little spacey. Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. Come to think of it...
“Hyung?” Hyunjin says, moving back up to press his palm to Minho's cheek. It seems like...
Minho's gaze slips back into focus, and he blinks rapidly as if to clear away the fog. He looks at Chan, then at Hyunjin, then at Chan. “Oh,” he exhales. All of a sudden, his breathing starts to pick up again until he's practically hyperventilating. “R... red.” Hyunjin stares at Minho with wide eyes. What? Minho whimpers. “Please. Red light.” Both Chan and Hyunjin take their hands off him right away, conditioned to react to a called safeword immediately and without question, even though the current situation isn't like the ones where they usually make use of safewords.
Minho rolls over to wrap his arms around Chan's waist, pressing his face into Chan's stomach, and he starts sobbing. Heartbreaking, gut-wrenching sobs that are definitely not made any less upsetting by the terrible rattle that sounds from his chest each time he inhales deeply. It's enough to make Hyunjin tear up, too, and when he looks at Chan with a feeling of terror gripping his heart, Chan's eyes look wet above his mask as well. Gingerly, Chan puts his hand on Minho's shoulder in a comforting touch. Neither of them say anything. They just stay quiet, and they let Minho cry as much as he needs to.
Eventually, he seems to tire himself out. He still keeps his face hidden and his arms around Chan, but the sobs die down to the occasional sniffle. Hyunjin gently pets his hair. “Hyung?” he says. Minho shakes his head. Hyunjin pouts even though Minho has his back turned and wouldn't be able to see it anyway when Hyunjin is wearing a mask. “Come on, hyung, look at me.”
“No, 'm embarrassed,” Minho mumbles. “Leave me here to die.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes fondly. “Don't be dramatic,” he says, which makes Minho flip onto his back to squint at him in affront.
“You're literally the most dramatic person I know,” he croaks. His eyes and nose are both red, and his face is a mess of tears and snot. Hyunjin reaches out to brush his thumb under Minho's eyelashes to wipe away some of the wetness. Minho sniffles again, then pouts. “I hate being like this.”
“Being sick?” Hyunjin asks, and Minho shakes his head again.
“Being weak.” His voice is barely a whisper. He's looking vaguely off into empty space rather than looking at either of them. “Being vulnerable. Hate what just happened to me.” His mouth turns downward at the corners, and his eyebrows furrow in a frown. “Hm. Don't wanna talk about it.”
Chan sighs. “I think we have to,” he says, gently but sternly. Hyunjin agrees. They really should talk about it. Talk about Minho crying like that, and also about what happened in the moments leading up to it. Hyunjin thinks he has a pretty good idea of what Minho went through, but he wants to let Minho explain it himself. He doesn't want to make possibly incorrect assumptions.
“Let me sleep,” Minho mumbles. “Tired.” Normally, Hyunjin would call him out for trying to evade talking about serious topics, but Minho genuinely looks exhausted, eyelids drooping like it's a struggle to keep them open. Hyunjin fetches a wet washcloth to carefully clean Minho's face, even as Minho is halfway on the path to unconsciousness, and Minho hums. “Thank you. Love you.” His expression smooths out to something more peaceful as he drifts off completely. He always looks much softer when he's asleep, as if his guard is let down. It makes Hyunjin's heart clench.
“What was that?” Chan whispers. He still looks taken aback by all of it.
“I don't know,” Hyunjin says. “I mean, I have a vague notion, but...” He trails off. He wonders if Chan saw the same thing Hyunjin did. Better to let Minho explain it, probably.
There's a pensive furrow to Chan's eyebrows. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Me too.” The way he's looking at Minho makes Hyunjin think they're on the same page. Chan looks at Hyunjin, and Hyunjin can tell from the curve of his eyes that he's smiling softly. “You should get some rest. I'll watch over Minho.”
“What about you?” Hyunjin protests.
“You know what I'm like with sleep,” Chan says, chuckling even though his insomnia isn't funny. He reaches out to stroke Hyunjin's hair. “Just rest for now, baby. I'll wake you up if anything happens.” Hyunjin sighs in defeat. If he was any less tired, he would probably put up more of a fight, but he can feel the bone deep exhaustion setting in.
Hyunjin curls up on the opposite side of the mattress, as far away from Minho as possible, and he watches Minho's sleeping form until he can't keep his eyes open any longer, either.
When Hyunjin wakes up, Minho is already awake, and Chan is not. Chan is sitting with his back against the headboard and his neck bent at an angle that looks uncomfortable and is sure to ache for the rest of the day. Hyunjin scoffs. So much for staying awake. Minho is looking up at the ceiling, but his attention shifts to Hyunjin when he sits up in bed. “Hey,” Hyunjin whispers. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Minho says. He does look a lot better, too. Skin less sallow and clammy, eyes less bleary, cheeks less ruddy. His voice is still nearly gone, and he's hot to the touch when Hyunjin reaches out to feel his forehead, though not nearly as bad as he had been when they came over. It makes a sense of relief flood Hyunjin's mind. So Minho is definitely improving. That's good. “Could use a shower. And something to eat.”
“Not sure about the shower,” Hyunjin says. “Maybe if you let me stay in the bathroom with you, just in case.”
“Gonna give me a sponge bath, nurse Hwang?” Minho rasps, and the teasing smirk on his face is how Hyunjin knows he's returning to normal. Hyunjin rolls his eyes. If only he could kiss away Minho's smug expression the way he usually does, but, alas, face masks and germs ruin all his fun.
Their chatter has Chan beginning to stir. He sits more upright, grimacing and hissing at the crick in his neck that Hyunjin just knew would be there. “Ow, fuck,” he says, massaging his neck and shoulder. “Didn't mean to fall asleep.” He looks at Minho, and his eyes curve in a smile when he sees that he's obviously looking better than last night. Chan caresses his hair affectionately. “Hi, sweetheart.” The pet names still seem to stick, though.
Minho's smile falters, and for just a moment he looks stricken, but then he's smiling again. “Hey,” he whispers. It's a different kind of smile, not the sharp, smug one. This one is softer, sweeter, almost bashful. Enough to make Hyunjin's heart flutter.
Chan offers to feed the cats and maybe clean the living room a bit while Hyunjin helps Minho in the bathroom. Hyunjin sits on the closed toilet lid as Minho is washing up. Hyunjin had offered to join him, but Minho remains firm in not allowing Hyunjin near him without a mask, and Hyunjin can't exactly wear one in the shower, so this is the compromise. “Let me know if you need help with anything,” Hyunjin offers, and Minho simply hums in response. Hyunjin can imagine how good it must feel to be able to wash away all the sweat and staleness.
For a few minutes, there's nothing but the sound of the water hitting the tiles and Minho's raspy breathing, interspersed with him clearing his throat once in a while. “Can I ask you something?” Minho eventually says.
“Sure,” Hyunjin says, looking at a spot on the gaudy shower curtain that he thinks is approximately where Minho must be standing on the other side of it. “Ask away.”
It takes another few moments before Minho mutters: “What does subspace feel like?”
Hyunjin's mouth drops open in surprise. That wasn't the question he expected. He has half a mind to pull the shower curtain back to be able to look at Minho and take in his expression, but at the same time he gets the feeling that Minho purposely chose to ask about this while they're unable to see each other. More specifically, while Hyunjin is unable to see Minho. “Well,” Hyunjin muses. “It's kind of difficult to explain, and I'm sure it feels different for different people, but...” He purses his lips in thought as he considers his words. “It's like... floaty, I guess? Dreamlike. My brain feels all fuzzy and distant, like I'm not quite in my own body.” He keeps staring at the shower curtain, waiting for Minho to respond, but all he gets for a long time is silence.
“I think that happened to me,” Minho finally admits, voice quiet enough to barely be heard over the water. “Last night, I... I felt... like that. Fuck, we weren't even doing anything, and then all of a sudden it... it felt like I...” He takes a deep breath. “It was scary.”
“Why?” Hyunjin asks. Out of the corner of his eye he registers movement, and he glances towards the entrance to the bathroom. Chan is standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He doesn't say anything to announce his presence, just listens.
“Dunno,” Minho says. “Didn't know what was happening. Felt too vulnerable. Overwhelmed.”
Hyunjin hums in understanding. “Is that why you cried?”
“Yeah. That and because... because I felt so powerless. I don't know.” Minho exhales harshly, lets out a sheepish laugh. “Fuck, you know I'm bad at talking about my feelings.”
Hyunjin does know. He also knows that Minho doesn't like not being in control, but chooses not to mention it. “I can imagine it being scary if you don't know what it is,” he says. He's still looking at Chan, who finally looks back at him with a knowing smile. So they did both see it. They both recognized the signs for what they were. “But it's okay to be vulnerable, hyung, especially with us. I love you, and Channie-hyung loves you. We want you to be open with your emotions. Laugh if you need to, yell if you need to, cry if you need to. We're never going to look at you differently for it, we just want you to be comfortable enough to trust us with everything.” He hears Minho sniffling on the other side of the curtain. It's unclear whether it's because of the sickness, or if he's crying again. Hyunjin doesn't comment on that, either. They'll talk more once Minho feels better.
Chan is gone by the time Minho exits the shower, like he was never even there in the first place, eavesdropping on the conversation. Hyunjin helps Minho dry off, patting him down with a big, fluffy towel. Minho is watching him quietly the whole time. There's something unspoken in his eyes, something soft that looks a lot like gratefulness. Once more, Hyunjin wishes he could kiss him. He even almost goes in for one before he remembers that he's wearing a mask, and that kissing Minho while he's sick is probably a bad idea. He settles for pressing his palm to Minho's cheek, a gentle caress, and Minho sighs and leans into the touch.
Afterwards, Minho has expended enough energy by showering that he has to go lay down for a while again before he can do anything else. Hyunjin leaves him in the bedroom to rest and goes to the living room to find Chan on the couch, petting one of the cats. He has his mask pulled down under his chin, so Hyunjin can see the soft smile he sends in Hyunjin's direction. “Good job back there,” he says.
Hyunjin huffs. “Thanks.” He pulls his mask down as well and walks over to kiss Chan, sighing softly into it. Oh, how he missed being able to do that. He motions to pull away after just a quick press of lips, but Chan keeps him in place with one hand on the side of his neck, the other on the back of Hyunjin's thigh, pulling him forward until Hyunjin has to put his knee on the couch next to Chan's hip. Fuck it, Hyunjin thinks as he climbs fully into Chan's lap. The cat scampers away, and Hyunjin feels a little bad about chasing it off, but is too distracted to think about it for very long. “It was exactly like I thought,” Hyunjin says against Chan's lips. Chan's just hums, nodding his agreement as he kisses Hyunjin over and over again, seeming to grow more hungry with each one. Hyunjin giggles huskily. “Somebody's needy.”
“Missed this,” Chan murmurs, as if it's been days and not mere hours since they last kissed. “And it's hot seeing you all authoritative and talking about feelings and stuff.”
“And stuff,” Hyunjin repeats, rolling his eyes fondly. “Eloquent.” Chan bites Hyunjin's bottom lip in retaliation, causing Hyunjin to gasp, which allows Chan to lick into his mouth. Hyunjin was teasing Chan about being needy, but with the sinful way Chan's tongue is swiping against his own, and the way Chan is still keeping a tight, almost possessive grip on his thigh, he's starting to feel it, too.
From somewhere next to them, Minho suddenly clears his throat. “I wanted something to eat, but I see you've already started on dessert.” They both look over at him. He's standing with his blanket wrapped around himself, but as they watch him, he slowly sits down at the opposite end of the couch, curling up to keep as much distance between them as possible.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” Hyunjin says.
Minho shakes his head. “Just had to rest for a bit. You don't need to stop for my sake, though.” He does some sort of gesture with his hand, hidden under the blanket. “By all means, keep going. I have to live vicariously through you.” He slumps to the side to lean his head on the backrest, gazing at them attentively. Chan and Hyunjin both still hesitate. To Hyunjin, it feels kind of wrong for them to be doing this when Minho is sick. They should focus on him and his needs, not the need to get themselves off. However, when they don't continue, Minho furrows his eyebrows. “Do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asks.
Hyunjin's mouth drops open at the thought. “Oh,” Chan breathes, sounding much like Hyunjin feels. Shaken. “That... might be kind of hot?” He looks at Hyunjin for his reaction. Hyunjin swallows thickly and nods.
“Ah.” A slow, sly smile spreads on Minho's face. “Well, I do like bossing people around.” He looks between them, calculating, considering. “Then, keep kissing. For now.” Hyunjin doesn't have to be told again.
They make out for a while. Long enough for Hyunjin to grow impatient, to want more. He tries to roll his hips to grind down against Chan, but a disapproving click of the tongue from Minho is enough to make him pause. Hyunjin does pull away to pout at Minho, though. “Please, I want–”
“Mhm, I'm sure you do,” Minho cuts him off dismissively. “But who's calling the shots right now, huh?” So that's what this is about. Minho wanting to regain the upper hand after losing his composure. Minho being in control again. Turns out Minho is easier to read than Hyunjin previously thought. Still, he only keeps pouting at Minho, willing him to give in, while Chan is stifling a chuckle into the side of Hyunjin's neck where Minho can't see it. In the end, Minho sighs. “Brat. You're lucky I'm so soft for you.” He eyes Hyunjin like he's still trying to figure out what he wants to do with him. “Alright. Take off your clothes. Both of you.” Hyunjin gets off Chan's lap to strip, clothing items strewn haphazardly on the floor. Chan does the same from his seated position. Hyunjin doesn't mention how Minho usually doesn't want to do anything in the living room where the cats can witness it. Hyunjin doesn't want to relocate, he just wants Chan's hands on his body.
Once Hyunjin is naked, he motions to straddle Chan's lap again, actually goes through with it when Minho makes no move to tell him to stop. Chan's cock is a hard line along his lower abdomen, and they both moan when Hyunjin's own cock brushes against it, white hot. Chan lifts his hands like he wants to put them on Hyunjin's hips, but he hesitates and looks at Minho for permission. “Can I touch him?” he asks.
Minho smiles, saccharine-sweet. “No,” he says in his raspy voice. Hyunjin draws in a sharp breath. Well, that certainly throws a wrench in his plans. “No touching. Put your hands under your thighs, hyung.” Chan does as he's told, essentially sitting on them. Minho hums. “Good. Since Hyunjinnie is apparently so eager to be in charge, he can get both of you off.”
Hyunjin wets his lips. “Can I use my hands?” It comes out more petulant than he means to, and Minho's gaze is sharp as he regards him, pensive.
“Not until I tell you to,” he decides. “Keep them behind your back.” Breathing out a shaky sigh, Hyunjin complies. God, how the fuck is he supposed to do anything like this? Minho said he was being soft, but not allowing Hyunjin to touch Chan when he is naked and aroused right under him seems like a cruel form of torture. Minho just keeps smiling as he looks at them. “Good. You can use your mouths however you want, but you have to stay just the way you are.”
Immediately, Hyunjin dips down to put his mouth on Chan's throat. Chan groans and tips his head back, giving Hyunjin more ample space to work his lips and tongue and teeth against his skin. Hyunjin moves lower, sucks a mark into Chan's collarbone, kisses wetly across his chest, manages to get at Chan's nipples with his tongue if he arches his back just right. Hyunjin feels ravenous. He can't help the way his hips are rocking in desperate search of any kind of friction. “Ah,” Chan moans when Hyunjin's teeth scrape a little too roughly against his pec. “Fuck.”
Hyunjin leans his forehead on Chan's shoulder, tries to catch his breath. “Please,” he whispers. “Please, please, I want...” He cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. Minho hadn't exactly been very accommodating the last time Hyunjin said he wanted something. He turns his head to pout pleadingly at Minho, making his eyes as big and wet as possible in hopes that Minho will be merciful if Hyunjin just looks pathetic enough. “Need to touch Channie-hyung, please.”
“Alright,” Minho mutters. The reply comes quick. Either he's feeling more generous than Hyunjin thought, or maybe he's affected as well. “You can use your hands now, baby. Hyung, you still can't.” Chan whines as if in protest but remains obedient. Hyunjin makes use of the lenience he's been shown and presses one palm to Chan's cheek. The other hand wraps around both of their cocks, fingers curling around hot, velvety skin to stroke them both in tandem. Having Chan's cock pressed against Hyunjin's own feels so good, so perfect. He kisses Chan again, and this time Hyunjin is the one, who swipes his tongue at the seam of Chan's lips to be allowed entrance.
It becomes difficult to keep kissing when Chan is mostly just panting rather than actually kissing back, but Hyunjin stays close, hot breaths mingling, cradling Chan's face in one hand as the other works to get them off. It's a little on the dry side, so Hyunjin spits crudely into his own palm before wrapping his fingers back around them to ease the slide. His hips are still moving almost of their own accord, thrusting into his grip in time with his motions. Everything feels so fucking hot. Minho hasn't said anything in a while. Hyunjin is too focused on the rapidly building climax in his belly to pay it much mind. “Can I come?” Chan asks before Hyunjin has the chance to.
“Yes,” Minho says hoarsely. Chan squeezes his eyes shut, his jaw clenching then dropping open as he spills over Hyunjin's fingers and his own stomach. It smears against the skin of Hyunjin's cock as he keeps stroking himself, bucking into the tight ring of his fist to chase his own release. “You too, baby. Go ahead.” It's the last push Hyunjin needs. He whines as he comes, adding to the mess on Chan's abdomen. They're both breathing raggedly, still in each other's space. Chan grins, wide and brilliant, and Hyunjin smiles too and leans in to press a peck to his lips.
“Ugh, feel sticky,” Hyunjin says, wrinkling his nose. “Lemme just go get–”
“No, you're going to clean it up with your tongue,” Minho says in a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument. “On your knees.” Hyunjin doesn't even question it, his body reacting automatically to the command. He kneels on the floor between Chan's splayed legs, and he looks Chan right in the eye as he laps at the cum on Chan's abs, broad swipes of his tongue until there's nothing left but the glisten of saliva on his skin. He works over Chan's soft cock, too, and Chan gasps and writhes at the sensation. Oversensitive, probably. Hyunjin hums as he laves another lick at the head. Chan whimpers and tries to squirm away, still compliantly sitting on his hands because Minho never told him to do otherwise. “Mhm. Good boy.” Hyunjin would maybe find it kind of funny how both he and Chan seem to perk up at the praise, if only he wasn't feeling so ruined.
“What about this?” Hyunjin asks, holding up his hand still smeared with cum.
Minho raises his eyebrows. “I said to use your tongue, didn't I?” he drawls, and Hyunjin pops his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean as well, very aware of the way Minho is looking at him as he does it. Hyunjin keeps unwavering eye contact for that reason alone. Minho hums. The smile on his face is anything but kind. “I want you to know that I am starting a mental tally of all the times you're being a brat so I can reprimand you properly once I'm not sick anymore.”
“I'll look forward to it,” Hyunjin chirps, smiling faux-innocently, and this time, Chan doesn't bother to stifle his chuckle. Minho's eyes flash, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but he's interrupted by the sound of his own stomach rumbling. Hyunjin giggles. “Let's get you something to eat, hyung.”
“Okay,” Minho relents, narrowing his eyes at him. “But I'm not letting you feed me.”
Hyunjin just keeps smiling. “We'll see about that.”