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The apartment was too quiet.
Felix stood in the middle of the living room, wrapped in the stillness like it was a weighted blanket, except instead of comfort, all it offered was dread. The only sound was the faint wheeze of Jisung’s breathing coming from the cracked bedroom door.
Felix ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before turning sharply and grabbing his phone.
Felix [2:17 PM]:
CHAN HELP
jisung’s dying
or he sounds like he is?? idk
he coughed and it was like wet and evil
and now he won’t even open his eyes fully
He waited maybe three seconds before adding:
Felix [2:18 PM]:
pls pls pls tell me what to do i gave him water and a hoodie is that enough
oh and an ibuprofen but i don’t think it’s working
oh god
No reply yet.
He groaned and threw himself onto the couch, cringing at the low groan from the bedroom. Jisung hadn’t moved much since this morning, when Felix had come into his room expecting to wake him for breakfast only to find him bundled in three blankets, hair stuck to his forehead, burning up and murmuring nonsense like, “Tell the soup lady I loved her.”
Felix had panicked.
Not like the run-screaming-into-the-street kind of panic, but the freeze in the doorway wondering if this is pneumonia or just a really intense cold kind.
And the worst part? Chan wasn’t here. The only person who knew how to handle stuff like this. The one who had actually lived through every member of their friend group getting food poisoning in Busan and somehow kept everyone alive and hydrated with a scary amount of calm.
But no. Chan was in Sydney, probably eating lamingtons with his mom and being blissfully unaware of the crisis occurring back home.
Felix opened the bedroom door slowly, just enough to peek in.
Jisung was a lump under the blankets, only a hint of brown hair and a very red nose visible. He gave a weak cough, followed by a groan that sounded suspiciously like, “Please kill me.”
“Jisung?” Felix whispered. “Are you—do you want soup?”
“Mmmnff.”
“I’m gonna make you soup,” he said, closing the door carefully, like not to let the plague escape.
⸻
2:34 PM – Kitchen
Felix had never felt more betrayed by a cupboard before.
“Where’s the soup?” he muttered, crouching and shoving aside boxes of cereal and some suspiciously old pasta.
No soup. No instant noodles. Just one can of baked beans that might’ve belonged to Chan. That wasn’t helpful.
Felix [2:37 PM]:
no soup
no noodles
just beans and rage
can i make him scrambled eggs or is that bad for sick people
Still no reply.
He settled for rice and boiled eggs, praying Jisung wouldn’t just throw it up. By the time he returned to the bedroom with the bowl balanced carefully in one hand, Jisung was half-awake, blinking blearily.
“You’re alive,” Felix breathed, a smile tugging at his mouth.
“Am I?” Jisung croaked.
“Barely,” Felix muttered, crouching beside the bed. “Here. I made food. Eat or die. Not on my watch.”
Jisung tried to lift himself up and gave up halfway. Felix immediately shoved a pillow behind his back, fussing like a worried mom.
Jisung squinted at the bowl. “Is this… real food?”
“Be grateful. I risked food poisoning for this.”
He fed Jisung a few spoonfuls before the older boy slumped back, too tired to chew anymore. Felix sighed and set the bowl down, brushing damp hair back from Jisung’s forehead. He was still burning up.
Felix [3:02 PM]:
temp is like 38.9 i think??
idk how accurate this thermometer is it’s got a duck on it
i think it’s made for toddlers
⸻
3:27 PM – Living Room
Finally, a reply.
Chan [3:27 PM]:
FELIX
ok first: breathe. he’s not dying.
give him fluids, ibuprofen every 4-6 hrs, and cool compress
did he eat? can he keep stuff down?
Felix [3:28 PM]:
he ate 3 bites of rice and then gave me a speech about becoming one with the bed
so yes and also no
Chan [3:28 PM]:
lmao ok
just keep an eye on his temp
if it hits 39.5 or higher, take him to urgent care
make sure he drinks even if he doesn’t want to
pedialyte is best. gatorade works too
Felix blinked.
Felix [3:30 PM]:
do we LOOK like people who keep pedialyte in the house
Chan [3:31 PM]:
check the bottom of the fridge. blue bottle, sports cap. it’s labeled “DO NOT DRINK UNLESS YOU’RE DYING”
that’s for situations like this.
Felix sprang up, ran to the fridge, and there it was: a half-full bottle of grape-flavored electrolyte drink, sitting behind the gochujang. Chan, king of preparedness.
He brought it to Jisung, gently coaxing him to sip through a straw. Jisung made a face but didn’t fight it.
“Good boy,” Felix muttered. “Drink more or I’ll start reading out loud from your old song drafts.”
Jisung’s eyes opened just enough to glare at him.
Felix grinned, relieved by the spark of life.
⸻
4:03 PM – Jisung’s Room
Felix was seated cross-legged on the floor, his back resting against the wall just beside Jisung’s bed. The air was thick with the soft hum of the humidifier, and the occasional hoarse coughing fit from the bed.
He scrolled through social media, eyes flicking up every time Jisung stirred.
Chan [4:05 PM]:
Any changes? Still feverish?
Felix [4:06 PM]:
38.7 now
still looks like he got hit by a bus made of germs
gave him the drink. he called me “a tyrant with a pretty face” then passed out again
do i take that as a compliment??
Chan [4:08 PM]:
absolutely. you’re doing good, Lix.
keep the fluids coming. and if he gets cold, no blankets, just another dose and a cold compress.
Felix exhaled slowly and looked toward the bed again.
Jisung was still curled on his side, facing the wall, the covers kicked halfway off. His shirt was damp with sweat. Felix carefully got up, walked over, and began gently dabbing a wet cloth across the back of his neck. Jisung whimpered and shifted.
“Hey,” Felix whispered. “You’re okay.”
A raspy sound came from Jisung—maybe an attempt at a laugh.
“You’re my nurse now,” he murmured. “You gonna write that on your résumé?”
Felix smiled faintly. “Only if you don’t die.”
He sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, one hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “You scared me this morning.”
There was a long pause before Jisung croaked, “Did I?”
Felix looked at him, and for the first time all day, the joke was gone from his voice.
“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do.” He let out a breath, almost a laugh. “I panicked. I thought—God, I thought maybe you were having some weird infection or like… organ failure.”
“That’s dramatic, even for me.”
“You were talking about soup like it was your last words!”
Jisung cracked a lopsided smile, but it faded too fast. His eyes drifted shut again.
Felix lingered, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He pulled the blanket a little higher over Jisung’s knees, then pressed the back of his hand to his cheek.
Still too warm. But not worse.
Felix [4:19 PM]:
he’s lucid-ish. temperature’s holding
you think he’ll be okay by tomorrow?
Chan [4:22 PM]:
hard to say. could be a 24hr thing or a nasty flu.
but honestly? if you weren’t there, I’d be worried.
you’re doing great.
Felix stared at the message, warmth blooming behind his ribs.
Felix [4:23 PM]:
i’m just winging it
with your step-by-step instructions
like a cooking show for disease
Chan [4:24 PM]:
haha
that’s the best anyone can do.
just be there for him. talk to him even if he’s out of it.
he gets quiet when he’s scared
Felix glanced over at Jisung.
The boy was half-asleep again, brows creased faintly, lips parted like he might be stuck in some fever dream. Felix shifted back to sit against the wall and let the silence settle between them.
Then he started talking.
At first it was nothing—just rambling about how he’d almost bought a ceramic duck from the grocery store clearance aisle, and how they were never letting Jisung pick the movie on group nights again because the last one had been two hours of black-and-white Finnish puppetry and no one recovered emotionally.
Then the talk turned softer.
“How come you never let us help when you get sick?” he asked the air. “You always play it cool. Or disappear for a day and come back pretending it was allergies. It’s not. You don’t have to be tough all the time.”
Jisung stirred but didn’t answer.
Felix sighed and rested his head back against the wall. “Anyway. You’re stuck with me this time, tough guy. No escape routes.”
⸻
5:00 PM – Kitchen
Felix stood at the counter, sipping a lukewarm cup of tea. His phone buzzed again.
Chan [5:01 PM]:
you holding up okay?
Felix [5:01 PM]:
i’m fine. just tired.
kinda scared still but it’s better now that he’s resting
thank you btw
seriously. you’re like… the mom friend and the survival expert and the therapist all in one
Chan [5:02 PM]:
lol
just older, that’s all
you’re doing more than fine. jisung’s lucky to have you there
Felix leaned over the sink, letting the compliment sit for a moment. He didn’t always know how to take praise—but this, from Chan, in the middle of something so delicate, made his chest hurt in a way that wasn’t entirely bad.
He washed the teacup slowly, then returned to check on Jisung, who was sitting up groggily now, hair matted and eyes puffy.
“Hey,” Felix said gently, crossing the room.
“You’re still here?” Jisung rasped.
“Of course I’m still here.”
“Thought maybe I dreamed that part.”
Felix smiled and crouched beside the bed again. “You dream about me often?”
“Shut up.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
Jisung rolled his eyes—sluggishly, but it still made Felix grin.
“I’m gonna try to shower,” he mumbled.
Felix blinked. “That’s ambitious.”
“Don’t want to die greasy.”
“I mean, I can help—if you need—”
“No,” Jisung said immediately. “If I collapse, you have my permission to call 911 and let them deal with the consequences.”
Felix watched him shuffle off with all the grace of a stunned deer. But it was a good sign.
He turned to the bed and started changing the damp sheets.
⸻
5:13 PM – Bedroom, Fresh Sheets
Jisung came out ten minutes later, hair wet, wrapped in Felix’s hoodie. He climbed into the fresh bed with a long sigh.
Felix gave him a thumbs up. “You’re officially back from the brink.”
“I smell like shame,” Jisung grumbled.
“You smell clean. Which is better than the alternative.”
He handed over a fresh bottle of water and sat beside him again, curling one leg beneath him.
“You wanna watch something?” Felix asked. “Low volume. No puppets.”
Jisung blinked at him.
“I feel… safe,” he murmured, almost surprised by the words.
Felix’s breath caught. He looked down at his hands.
“I’m glad.”
“You’re not… bad at this.”
“Shh,” Felix said with a grin. “Don’t ruin my bad-boy image.”
Jisung closed his eyes again, and this time, it was peaceful.
⸻
The Next Morning – 8:03 AM
Felix woke up slumped awkwardly on the floor, one leg dangling off the side and a crick in his neck so sharp it nearly made him swear aloud. His phone buzzed weakly against his chest. It was already light out—the filtered grey of a cloudy morning peeking through the curtains.
His first instinct was to shoot up and check on Jisung.
He scrambled off the floor and stumbled over to the bed. Jisung was asleep, breathing steady, curled under a light blanket. His fever had broken sometime in the night—Felix could see it in the softness of his expression, the color returning to his skin, the absence of that awful heat.
He let out a long, relieved breath.
Felix [8:04 AM]:
update: he’s alive
no more death groans
i think the worst is over
His phone buzzed almost immediately.
Chan [8:04 AM]:
thank god
I was about to book a flight home
still might tbh
Felix stared at the message and then at Jisung’s sleeping form. He tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen, rubbing at his stiff neck.
⸻
8:21 AM – Kitchen
He set the kettle on and leaned over the counter, letting the tension from the last day settle like dust. The adrenaline had kept him moving—cooking, checking temperatures, changing sheets, pacing like an anxious parent waiting for their kid to come home.
Now that Jisung was stable, it hit him all at once. The stress. The fear. The constant guessing.
He sat down and texted again.
Felix [8:23 AM]:
you really would’ve come back?
Chan [8:24 AM]:
of course
he’s my family
and so are you
Felix blinked at the screen. A tight knot in his chest loosened.
Felix [8:25 AM]:
don’t say stuff like that you’ll make me cry into my earl grey
also we’re out of bread and i ate all the frozen dumplings
we’re going to have to live off rice and vibes for the next two days
Chan [8:25 AM]:
you kept him safe. that’s all that matters.
I’ll come back tomorrow morning. bring groceries. and hugs.
you can sleep for 10 years after that
⸻
10:14 AM – Bedroom
Jisung was sitting up, sipping slowly from a warm mug of tea that Felix had managed to make taste semi-edible by stealing some honey from Chan’s baking stash. He looked exhausted, eyes rimmed in dark circles, hair flat from sweat and sleep—but better.
Felix sat beside him again, just far enough to give him space, just close enough to be there.
“I think I had fever dreams about you,” Jisung croaked.
“Oh?”
“You were glowing. You had wings. And you kept feeding me spoons of rice and whispering about electrolytes.”
Felix snorted. “So basically me in real life.”
Jisung’s lips curled into the smallest smile. “You stayed?”
“Obviously.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, voice quieter now. “I mean, it’s not like we’re—”
“You’re my best friend, Ji.”
The words landed like an anchor. Jisung looked down into his tea, blinking fast.
“I was scared,” he admitted. “Last night. I couldn’t even think straight. Everything was blurry. But I kept hearing your voice.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t better at… knowing what to do,” Felix said. “I freaked out so many times.”
“You didn’t show it. Well—except for the texts. I think I heard your phone buzzing nonstop.”
Felix grinned sheepishly. “Chan was my lifeline. Pretty sure he deserves a medal.”
They sat there for a while, sipping tea, the silence no longer sharp or heavy. Just quiet. Healing.
Jisung broke it with a soft murmur: “You took care of me better than anyone ever has.”
Felix looked at him, startled. “Really?”
Jisung nodded. “I think I get it now. What it means to let someone in.”
Something in Felix’s chest twisted.
They didn’t say anything else for a while.
⸻
Next Morning – 9:17 AM
The door unlocked with a gentle click and swung open. Bang Chan stepped in, a duffel over his shoulder and a grocery bag in each hand.
“Helloooo?” he called softly.
Felix rushed from the kitchen, socked feet skidding on the hardwood.
“Hyung!”
Chan blinked as Felix launched into him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. He staggered back, laughing warmly.
“Whoa, okay, I missed you too—”
“I didn’t sleep right for two days,” Felix mumbled into his hoodie. “I had to Google how to treat fever in boys who act like dying Shakespeare characters.”
Chan chuckled, holding him tighter. “You did amazing.”
Felix didn’t let go for another minute. Then he stepped back and gestured toward the bedroom.
“He’s doing better. Still tired. But he’s drinking water and everything.”
Chan gave him a look. “And you?”
Felix shrugged. “Running on tea and stress. But I survived.”
Chan set the bags down and slipped into the bedroom.
Jisung looked up, bleary but awake, and gave the ghost of a smile.
“Look who decided to come back from paradise,” he rasped.
Chan chuckled, walking over to feel his forehead. “You sound like death.”
“Hot,” Jisung croaked. “Sexy.”
“You smell like menthol and sadness.”
Felix leaned against the doorway, watching them with an ache in his chest he didn’t have a name for. Family, maybe. Or safety. Or love.
Chan glanced back at him.
“You can rest now,” he said.
Felix exhaled and nodded.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I will.”
⸻
Felix was finally in his own bed, curled under a soft blanket, his phone resting on his chest. He was already half-asleep when a new message popped up.
Jisung [10:42 PM]:
thanks for taking care of me
don’t tell chan
but i think you’re my favorite nurse now
Felix [10:43 PM]:
i already ordered scrubs
we’re doing this properly next time
Jisung [10:43 PM]:
no next time pls
but if there is… i want you there again
Felix smiled into the dark.
Felix [10:44 PM]:
always