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The world was spinning.
Minhyuk didn’t know if that was because he was spinning. It probably was. He stopped dancing and closed his eyes for a few seconds until he was sure the dizziness would dissipate, but then the world didn’t stop spinning.
He sniffled and then coughed into his elbow. A terrible realization fell over him as he rubbed at his nose.
He was sick.
How on earth could he have gotten sick? He always took such good care of himself! He took vitamins and went to the gym and ate healthy foods. Sure, sometimes he danced until after midnight and then woke up early for his classes, but that didn’t mean anything. Almost every college student ever stayed up super late and woke up super early. That was the only way to survive as a student, really.
Minhyuk felt his forehead with the back of his hand. Was he hot? He couldn’t tell. He was definitely sweaty from all the dancing he had been doing, so surely he was also hot.
When did he even get sick? Why did it hit him so suddenly? He had felt a bit groggy earlier that day, but he didn’t feel sick until he worked on his turns.
“Damn it,” Minhyuk whispered to himself, lightly slapping his cheeks. “Come on, Minhyuk! You aren’t supposed to get sick!”
Getting sick was for other people. Minhyuk never got sick.
He tried to ignore it. For a few minutes, he tried to tell himself that he definitely wasn’t sick, that he could continue to dance without much issue. However, the more he pushed himself, the worse he felt, until he finally plopped down onto the floor and laid back to stare up at the ceiling.
Even if he was now still, everything still spun wildly.
He tried to remember the last time he was sick. Perhaps it was when he was a child. Children always got sick, and he was no exception. He remembered being cooped up in the house for several days. It wasn’t all bad, because he was able to play video games and watch movies, and his mom made him soup and tea and allowed him to eat in bed.
As a young college student, he knew he would have none of that. He still had assignments to work on and classes to attend and dances to perfect. There was no way he would be able to laze about in bed and have someone wait on him.
An idea popped into his head, and he sat up suddenly (and resisted the urge to vomit).
Sanha.
Sanha would help him out and give him the best advice.
Minhyuk’s loving, doting boyfriend had been sick before, and Minhyuk was there to help him to heal. He had done everything he remembered his mom doing; he cooked Sanha soup and turned on movies and offered up herbal teas and homemade remedies passed down through generations of Park family secrets. Sanha had become well again in a mere day or two. If Sanha replicated the care Minhyuk had shown him, then perhaps Minhyuk’s illness wouldn’t last long.
But that meant telling Sanha he was sick. And he didn’t want to tell Sanha he was sick.
For one, that would mean Sanha would have to push aside his own college studies to care for his ailing boyfriend. For another, it would be so embarrassing to be looked after by his younger boyfriend. Minhyuk had always been the mature one in their relationship, a sturdy, unmoving rock. Sanha was cute and flighty and dorky and chaotic. Minhyuk couldn’t even imagine how shameful it would be if he was immobile and reliant on another human being.
He laid back down again, having made his decision. He would not call Sanha. He would not put his own needs before that of his boyfriend’s needs. And he would not shrivel away in bed while Sanha acted older than his age.
He would take a nap. Just a short nap, right here on the wonderfully cool floor of his dance studio. He would sleep for half an hour and then he would be fine.
Except, the moment he closed his eyes, he was out, and he stayed out for three full hours.
He only awoke when Sanha’s voice, so desperate and adorable, echoed in the empty practice room.
“Minhyukie, wake up! Are you okay?”
Minhyuk groaned as he blinked open bleary eyes. His vision took a while to focus, and he swallowed back his drool before wincing. His throat was sore and he felt even worse than before.
“Sanha,” he croaked out.
“You sound horrible.”
Minhyuk tried to nod, but he couldn’t really move his head. His neck was sore. Damn, everything was painful.
“Are you sick?”
Minhyuk sniffled and said, “Think so.”
Sanha’s eyes were wide with concern. “Oh,” he said. He was kneeling on his knees beside Minhyuk’s body. He looked unsure as to what to do next, so Minhyuk decided to rescue him.
“It isn’t that bad. I can…I can go home and sleep it off.”
“You look like you fell unconscious while dancing,” Sanha pointed out.
“No, laying here was a deliberate choice.”
“Was it? Or were you just too tired and sick to make your way to our place?”
Minhyuk didn’t answer, and Sanha gave a small, “ a-ha .”
“See,” Sanha continued, and his shock and worry seemed to be ebbing away, “I’ve been sick plenty of times. I know what it’s like. You’re sick, and now you need me to care for you, right? Isn’t that right? You need your sweet, wonderful boyfriend to tuck you into bed and cater to your every whim!”
It sounded lovely, but Minhyuk remembered his resolve and he shook his head. “No. No, I can…I can take care of it.”
“Then go grab your stuff,” Sanha said, pointing over at Minhyuk’s backpack, the contents of which were strewn about the floor. “Pick it all up and follow me home.”
Even the thought of crawling around the room and grabbing his personal belongings seemed like too much. Minhyuk could already feel his body aching, and he hadn’t even moved yet. He grit his teeth down and struggled to sit up. His elbows hurt, and his back also hurt from sleeping on a cold, hard floor for hours.
Once he was sat up, he didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He wanted to flop back over on the floor and fall asleep, pained back be damned.
Sanha grinned. “Say it,” he demanded.
“Say what? ”
“Say that you need me to care for you.”
The demand didn’t even sound that bad. Sanha’s offer was enticing. He needed to swallow his pride and admit he needed help, and then he would be able to go home and curl up in bed and get up for nothing.
He thought of Sanha’s classes, though, and he shook his head.
“You have to go to school,” he muttered.
“I can do that and still care for you. How often do you think I have classes?” Sanha scoffed.
Minhyuk struggled to think of another excuse. “I’m older, and I…if you care for me, then…”
“You’re one year older. Big deal.”
Sanha’s offer was more and more enticing by the minute. Minhyuk swallowed thickly, then cleared his sore throat.
“What if I get you sick?”
“Eh.” Sanha shrugged. “Then you can care for me, and I know you like doing that. You have a weird, paternal streak.”
He wasn’t wrong. Minhyuk adored catering to Sanha’s every whim and desire. Sanha was such a perfect boyfriend, and Minhyuk really did love caring for him.
“Say it,” Sanha urged him again. “And I’ll take care of you.”
Minhyuk thought of the spinning ceiling and his back and his throat and his sniffles and his cough and his possible fever. Minhyuk also thought of a warm meal and a doting boyfriend and a comfortable bed.
“Sanha,” he murmured, and Sanha leaned in, looking quite excited.
“Yes?”
“Take care of me.”
Sanha squealed with delight (somehow, Minhyuk knew he would), and nodded his head with much enthusiasm. “Of course I will!” he exclaimed. “I’ll turn on your favorite drama, alright? And I can make you some rice porridge, and some tea, and I’ll make sure you have plenty of water for hydration, and I will even buy your favorite snacks, if you want! Whatever will make you feel better, my cute Minhyukie!”
Sanha helped him stand and grabbed all of his stuff without Minhyuk asking.
He rushed to and fro, eager to assist, and Minhyuk decided that it probably wouldn’t be so bad to have his young, adorable boyfriend look after him.
Just for a few days, at least.