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"Who would you choose if you were asked to marry a member of Stray Kids?”
“...Bang Chan!”
Chan didn’t know how many times he’d played that video. Probably a thousand times at this point. He didn’t even know if he was still awake or if he’d simply hallucinated the whole thing if he was being honest. He was feeling so sick he was probably delirious.
He buried his face in his pillow, only to take it out the next second when a cough shook him. He groaned and turned on his back, shakily sitting up a bit against his pillow. His whole face felt fuzzy and the pounding behind his eyes wasn’t helping.
“I’d marry you Chan.”
Minho’s voice kept floating around in his mind. A sharp smile and beautiful round eyes teased his memory as his heart beat faster.
He wanted to marry Minho so bad it was making him sick. Maybe that was why the flu had taken over so strongly. His immune system had lost the battle when Chan’s heart had stopped beating for a second when he’d come across that video a few minutes ago.
He’d been feeling off for a while now anyway.
“Bang Chan.”
He blew his nose. Minho had said his name. He could die happy.
He sank back into his bed, exhausted.
He had a fitful sleep. Clips of dreams and reality merged together in a land of Minho and wedding. Chan smiled faintly as he accepted Minho’s hand, his cloudy mind producing bright smiles, colours and the faint smell of the sea.
He woke up in the middle of the afternoon, sweating so much he had to send his blanket flying to the floor to escape his damp cocoon. He laid there, wet and shivering for a few minutes before he achingly crawled to the edge of his bed to fish his blanket back. He was way too cold to stay without it.
His teeth were chattering when he wrapped himself back in it. His feet were so cold, but his forehead was so warm.
He drifted to sleep again. His mind conjured images of Minho, dancing and smirking at him. He loved that mutinous face. He wanted to kiss him silly and hug him, but he couldn’t. He was sick, he wouldn’t want to pass it on to his cutest little thing.
At some point a door opened and light poured in.
An angel appeared in the doorway.
Chan watched, enraptured, as Minho approached, a bowl of stew in his hands. His hair was held back from his face by a blue headband, and he was wearing a green frog apron on top of formless lounge clothes.
He was the most beautiful thing Chan had ever laid eyes upon.
“Aigo, our Chan-ah,” Minho said quietly as he lowered himself next to Chan, placing the bowl on the bedside table. “You’re looking terrible, hyung.”
Chan hummed, sore throat constricting around the sound. He closed his eyes.
This was a nice dream. It smelt of warm stew and Minho.
“Absolutely not, you’re not going back to sleep. You need to eat something, hyung.”
“Minho-yah,” Chan croaked. He tried to open his eyes but his eyelids felt very heavy.
“Hmm?”
“You’re very pretty.”
There was a small silence before Minho’s soft laughter echoed in the room. “I know, hyung. Now be a good boy for me and open your eyes and eat your stew, huh? You have to get better. Everyone misses you.”
Chan reluctantly peeled his eyelids open. Minho was dancing in front of his eyes and he smiled. There were two Minhos in the room now. What a nice dream.
“Minho-yah.”
“What is it, hyung?” The two Minhos sounded amused.
“You’re very pretty. And kind. And so cute. And you smell really good; makes me want to cuddle you.”
“I know hyung, I know.”
“And you want to marry me. We should get married, Minho-yah. I think it would be very nice.” Chan smiled at the two Minhos. They both brought a hand to his forehead and it was odd because Chan could only feel one against his skin.
“You think so?” the Minhos asked, a fond smile on their faces.
Chan nodded. “Yes. You should marry me, Minho-yah. I only need one of you though.”
A startled laugh escaped the Minhos. The hand on his forehead slid in his hair and stroked his sweaty curls. It felt very nice. “Alright. I think that’s a brilliant idea, hyung. But you need to eat your stew first.”
Chan felt a bit sad. He felt his mouth form a pout. “And then we can get married?”
The Minhos smiled. “Yes, and then we can get married, hyung, promise.” They patted his head.
Chan smiled and struggled up with the help of the Minho who’d suddenly merged back into one. His head spun a bit from being suddenly upright and another coughing fit made his whole body shiver.
Minho tsked and brought a spoon full of warm food closer to Chan. Once the fit calmed down, he took his first bite.
The stew was very good. Warm and filling. Chan wasn’t very hungry in this dream, but he ate it all anyway.
It made Minho happy and say nice words to him. And he’d be able to marry him afterwards.
When Chan laid back on the bed, bowl empty and heart happy, he thought he felt lips on his forehead and a sweet voice whisper an “I love you, hyung” before he was drifting back into darkness.
This had definitely been a very nice dream.
Minho closed the door, smiling softly to himself, the empty bowl in hand.
“How is he?” Jeongin asked when Minho made his way back to the kitchen.
“Completely delirious, but I think he’ll make it,” Minho said lightly. He turned to put the dishes in the sink and let his smile spill wider on his lips. He bit them, and turned on the water. He could feel the pleased blush on his cheeks. “He’ll make it,” he repeated softly.
They would both make it and everything would be alright.