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Changbin takes very good care of his body. He keeps himself on an easy diet, he works out whenever he can, he even does yoga with Chan on occassion. He takes his vitamins every morning and keeps up with his doctor's appointments. He hasn't felt ill in years, the closest he's come to being sick was the occasional migraine from spending too many hours staring at his laptop screen. In short, Changbin does not get sick. Ever.
Which is why it comes as a surprise when he wakes up one morning feeling off.
It's nothing crazy, per se. He feels a little stuffy and he's a bit more tired than he usually is after a solid 8 hours of sleep. He's fine, really. He's not getting sick, and he certainly doesn't need to tell Chan about the sudden shift in atmosphere, either. His husband is already a morbid worrier, there's no need to stress him out for no reason if there's nothing wrong. And there is nothing wrong.
Changbin isn't sick.
Changbin is nearly finished with dinner when he feels his stomach begin to churn. Chan cooked a delicious steak for the both of them, and they ate it while chatting about the events of their days. Chan says he tried out a new recipe at the bakery that he works at, and it went well. Strawberry strudel with sprinkles, he described it as. He's excited about it, his dimples show when he grins and Changbin can feel his stomach ache disappear for just a second. When they finish, Changbin stands, collecting his and Chan's dirty plates and heading to the kitchen to dispose of them in the sink. He sighs, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up to wash the dirty plates when he hears Chan speak from behind him.
"I'll wash them, it's my night," Chan says. He rolls Changbin's sleeves down for him with a smile, but it falters when Changbin walks away without a word. Changbin is never this quiet, especially after a good meal. Chan recalls that his husband was relatively quiet during dinner, too, which is also out of the ordinary.
Chan clears his throat dramatically, raising an eyebrow when Changbin stops in his tracks. He looks back, giving Chan a questioning look.
"Come back here, grump." Chan orders.
Changbin obeys, shuffling his black socks back into the kitchen and slotting himself into Chan's waiting, open arms. He tucks his head into Chan's neck, taking a swift inhale of the faint vanilla body wash that clings to his skin. Sighing, he lets his cheek rest on Chan's shoulder and his eyes flutter closed.
"Are you feeling okay?" Chan mumbles. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of Changbin's head, rubbing his cheek onto his spouse's fluffy black curls. "You're being quiet, quieter than usual." He points out. He rubs a hand down Changbin's back, hoping to soothe any worries he might have.
Changbin sighs at the contact and feels his body relax in Chan's hold. "I'm fine, don't worry."
"Are you sure?" Chan asks, worrying anyway.
"I'm jus' tired, that's all." Changbin says, his voice muffled in the fabric of Chan's black sweatshirt.
Chan hums. "Okay." He nudges Changbin out from his shoulder and leaves another kiss on his nose. "Get some sleep, then. I'll be there once I finish these dishes." Another kiss, this one on his forehead.
Changbin nods, mumbling a low goodnight and leaving a weak kiss of his own on Chan's cheek. He starts the long journey back to his and Chan's shared bedroom, which is really only a quick walk down the hallway of their apartment. Once there, he curls into bed. He doesn't have the mind to take any painkillers before laying down, the headache pounding behind his eyes taking up all of his focus and messing with his thoughts. He shoves his face into Chan's pillow, inhaling his scent and dozing off with a furrow between his brow.
Changbin can tell something's up with his body, but he refuses to entertain the idea of any possible illness. He has work in the morning, he needs all the sleep he can get.
—
Chan tiptoes into the bedroom around an hour later, keeping his steps light. He spent his time cleaning up the kitchen deep in thought, worrying over the state of his husband. Was he sick? Did something happen during the day that he doesn't want to tell Chan about? Chan shakes his head, shoving those thoughts away. Changbin said he was just tired, he'll believe him.
He changes into something more comfortable, a pair of shorts and a tanktop, before climbing into bed next to his sleeping lover. Changbin subconsciously curls around him, wrapping an arm around his waist and shoving his face into Chan's neck, making him shiver. Presented with the opportunity, Chan decides not to let it go to waste. He presses the back of his fingers against Changbin's cheek gently, moving them around to check for a fever. He doesn't feel anything, which eases his nerves. Changbin must've just had a headache.
—
The typical morning routine in Chan and Changbin's apartment is quite jumbled. Chan wakes up before Changbin, but Changbin leaves the house before Chan. Chan is very meticulous about his routines, so he wakes up earlier to give himself time to complete all of his small tasks. He needs to complete his skincare routine, iron his clothes, make his morning tea, and breathe before heading out into the busy city.
Changbin usually wakes up as Chan is putting his empty tea mug into the sink. More often than not, he finds his spot draped over Chan's back in a sleepy back-bearhug to start his day. Chan loves it, he always appreciates moments like those; quiet and tender. No words need to be shared, the two of them are practically linked by the soul.
Today, Chan doesn't get his hug. He stands at the sink in his fluffy black robe and messy bed head for a little longer; perhaps Changbin was just a bit off schedule. Two minutes pass, and Chan begins to sulk, missing the warmth of his husband. He decides to go and investigate, shuffling down the hall and back into the bedroom. Low and behold, Changbin is still in bed, and his alarm is going off repeatedly from his phone that sits on his nightstand.
Weird, Chan thinks. Changbin never lets his alarm go off more than once.
Chan takes it upon himself to turn the alarm off and wake Changbin up himself. He tugs the blanket down, revealing Changbin's scrunched up, sleeping face. He's drooling a little and it's forming a small puddle on the sheets. The sight makes Chan smile, his Changbinnie's always been a pretty sleeper. Now's not the time to sap, though.
"Changbin," Chan says, his voice deep and heavy. When the sleeping man doesn't budge, Chan tries again. "Yeobo, c'mon. You'll be late." He pairs his words with a gentle rub of his hand down Changbin's face, stopping to dig a piece of crust out of his eye. He's about to throw himself on the bed in defeat when Changbin suddenly shoots up, throwing himself out of bed and rushing past his husband to start getting ready. Chan stands in place, a little startled.
For reference, Changbin never sleeps in. He's a light sleeper and insists on only setting one alarm because he knows it'll wake him up the first time. He doesn't even like alarms to begin with. They scare him awake and make him angry, which is why the alarm tone he settled on was very gentle. Chan recalls all of these details as he makes their bed, a confused pout on his face. After adjusting the last pillow, Chan finds Changbin in the bathroom. He's brushing his teeth quite roughly, clearly upset at the delay in his schedule.
"Good morning, baby," Chan smiles at him through the mirror reflection. Changbin huffs a response and continues brushing. Chan decides to help the other man out, and he steps behind him, leaving a kiss on the bare skin of Changbin's shoulder. He grabs their shared spray bottle and a brush, starting to detangle Changbin's unruly bedhead. He pauses to let Changbin spit into the sink, then continues once he starts to floss.
"Thank you, g'morning," Changbin says once his teeth are clean. His hair is detangled and presentable, thanks to Chan.
"It's nothing," Chan grins. "But- are you okay?"
Changbin groans. "I'm fine, I just overslept."
"Clearly," Chan sasses, narrowing his eyes at his husband. He kisses Changbin's cheek, smirking when he blushes. "D'you want a cup of tea?"
Changbin shakes his head. "No, I don't have time for that. Thanks, though." He smiles, rushing into the bedroom and leaving Chan alone again. He busies himself with putting away the hair materials, frowning when he thinks back to the bags under Changbin's eyes. He won't bring it up, though. He'll just keep a quiet eye on Changbin.
The man in question gets himself ready at record speed. He's a personal trainer, and punctuality is important when it comes to his clients. He throws on a loose muscle tank, a pair of Chan's baggy jeans and one of his hoodies. He tosses a pair of gym shorts in his duffel bag for when he arrives at the gym, too. Since the seasons are beginning to change and the temperature outside is steadily dropping, he can't leave the house in just his gym clothes. Chan wouldn't let him, anyway; he was always fussing over Changbin and bundling him up to the extreme. Once Changbin deems himself packed and ready, he rushes over to the front door.
Chan finds him there and leans against the arch of the front hallway, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches Changbin struggle to get his shoes on and messily throw on a jacket. Changbin is about to leave, his hand is around the door knob when Chan coughs behind him, stopping him. He turns around, a worried expression painted over his face as he waits to hear what his husband could possibly have to say.
"What is it, hyung?" Changbin asks.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Chan responds, holding out Changbin's protein shake that he made for him earlier. Changbin was so busy rushing that he forgot to make the drink for himself, so Chan did it for him. Changbin gasps, walking over to take the cup from Chan's hands. He doesn't get to walk away again, Chan yanks him forward by the collar of his jacket, fixing it for him with a tut. He tucks the hood down neatly and fixes Changbin's duffel bag on his shoulder, then clasps his hands over Changbin's cheeks gently.
"Relax, you're not late," Chan mumbles. He puckers his lips and squeezes his eyes shut dramatically, waiting for his goodbye kiss.
"Mwah!" Changbin exclaims as he presses a heavy kiss to Chan's lips, and one to each of his cheeks and then his forehead before rushing out the front door. Chan skips back to the bedroom with a blush across his cheeks.
—
As he's combing his own hair into place, Chan’s phone vibrates from where it's sitting on the bathroom counter. He taps the screen, leaning over to check the notification and smiling when he sees that it's a text from Changbin.
Bin 💍 [7:45am]
thx for waking me up
love u 😘
Chan giggles, dropping the comb to pick his phone up and text his husband back.
[7:46am] Me
anytime baby 😎
A few more days pass Changbin by, and his condition only worsens. It starts with the headaches, the dull throbbing would start behind his eyes from the moment he woke up and persist until he shut them again to sleep for the night. Then, the body aches. He ran out of steam at the gym way quicker than normal, and he’s almost positive his clients noticed.
The worst symptom by far was the sneezing.
Changbin has been sneezing all day. He woke himself out of his sleep two minutes before his alarm went off with a sneeze. When he was wrapped around Chan for his morning hug, he sneezed again. Chan blessed him, of course. Doing his hair, another sneeze. Kissing Chan goodbye, sneeze! Walking to the train, yet another.
On his way home, he got so many stares from people on the train because he just couldn't stop sneezing. By the time he got back to his apartment, Changbin was convinced he spent more of his day sneezing than breathing. His nose was sore and red from all the itching he's been doing throughout the day, and he just hopes Chan doesn't stare at him long enough to notice. It's a stupid wish, really. Chan is always staring at him.
When he steps into the warm, cozy apartment, his shoulders sag. He's home, finally. He doesn't have to stifle his sniffling and avoid the awkward, disgusted stares of strangers. To celebrate, he sneezes again, and Chan hears him this time. He calls out from the living room, luring Changbin deeper into their home like a mouse to a block of cheese.
Chan is slouched on the couch, staring absentmindedly at an animal documentary that plays on the TV in front of him. Meerkats, Changbin notices. Chan's playing a game on his phone, probably genshin. The room is dim, only a standing lamp next to the TV console working to provide light. The curtains are closed and the apartment is warm, making Changbin feel all gooey inside. He leans over the back of the couch and rests his head on Chan's shoulder, shoving his face into the warm space between Chan's neck and his hoodie that's about two sizes too big.
"Welcome home, baby," Chan says. He throws his phone to the side and uses his free hands to scratch at Changbin's scalp, unknowingly relieving some of the tension from his persistent headache. Changbin hums, forcing himself to stand. He kisses Chan's hair and drags himself to his bedroom to change.
He takes a few minutes to change, the ache in his limbs slowing him down. He finds his usual resting attire, shorts and a tanktop, except this time it isn't enough. There's goosebumps rising along his exposed arms and legs, he's cold. Sweatpants and a hoodie for tonight, then. Changbin slugs back to the living room to find that Chan has opened the pullout, and the extra cushions provide enough space for the couple to sprawl out on the couch comfortably.
Chan looks up from the documentary when he notices Changbin's presence and grins, holding his arms out for his husband to fall into, which he does. Changbin snuggles up into Chan's chest and sighs, the warmth radiating from his own clothes and Chan's body making him go boneless.
"Are you cold?" Chan asks, noticing the way his spouse was heavily bundled. Chan pulls him close, wrapping his arms around his torso and squeezing their chests against each other.
"Yeah, s'chilly in here," Changbin responds.
Chan hums. The thermostat isn't that low, if his memory is correct. Whatever, he'll just warm Changbin up. He reaches an arm over to grab the throw blanket that was previously draped against the back of the couch, and maneuvers it over their bodies.
"Better? Nice and warm?" He asks. Changbin nods. "Good, good. How was work? You seem pooped." Chan starts. He's always curious about Changbin's clients. Any other day Changbin would be grateful, he loved to dump information on anyone who would listen. Today, though, he's too tired to gossip, so he settles for a more closed-ended response.
"It was fine. How was the bakery? Did you bring any treats home for me today?" He asks, muffled into the blanket that comes up to rest over his ears. Only his eyes peek out from his blanket-hoodie cocoon.
Chan chuckles, light and airy. "No, not today. I can bring you some tomorrow, but you'll have to remind me so I don't forget. I can bring cookies? Muffins?" He offers.
"Muffins, please- achoo!" Oh god, not again. Changbin sniffles, rolling his eyes.
"Bless you!" Chan responds. He looks down to see if Changbin would need a tissue, but he doesn't seem to. Until he sneezes again.
"Bless," Chan giggles.
And again. "Achoo-! Fuck," Changbin groans.
Chan's eyes widen, "Bless you, any more for me?" He teases.
There was another. Changbin sneezes again, this one sounding more like a squeak than a sneeze, and it's an absolute snot rocket. Changbin quickly sits up, the blanket pooling around his waist. He tilts his head back, trying to sniff the boogers back up his nose, until Chan stops him.
"Baby, ew!" Chan laughs. "Here, let me help you." He sits up on one elbow and reaches the other over to grab the box of tissues from the end table. Pulling some out, he uses his own hands to run the tissue under Changbin's nose and collect the slime that sat on his top lip.
"You're so cute, that sneeze sounded like a little bunny," Chan smiles, pinching Changbin's cheek. "Blow, please," He directs, pouting when Changbin blows his nose into the tissue. He sounds quite congested, and Chan frowns. The dirty tissues are lazily thrown onto the end table alongside the box, and the two resume their original positions.
Chan fixes the blanket around them, bringing it up around Changbin's neck to keep him warm. The two lay in silence, save for the low voice of the documentary narrator. The silence stretches for about five minutes until the rumbling of a stomach breaks through.
Chan gasps, looking down at the man bundled in his arms. "Did you eat lunch today?" He asks. He's met with silence, so he asks again, a little louder this time. "Bin? Did you have lunch?"
"…No." Changbin mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on the TV, now documenting wolves, to avoid Chan's piercing and probably scolding gaze.
"Changbin! It's been hours, why haven't you eaten?! You only had a protein bar for breakfast today, how come you didn't eat any lunch?" Chan scolds. He nudges Changbin's cheek with a finger and pauses the documentary, leaving Changbin no choice but to face his upset husband like a real man.
"I just wasn't hungry-"
"Don't lie. You're always hungry." Chan cuts his lie off short. Damn their years of marriage, Changbin can't even lie anymore, Chan knows everything.
Chan begins to think. Changbin was clearly tired, all the sneezing, and now this? Something is up. He thinks back to the last couple of days, stopping his mental backtracking at his theory of Changbin's impending illness. He has to be coming down with something. None of his behaviors over the past week have been even remotely normal. Chan decides to test his theory. Undercover, of course.
"I'm making you dinner." He announces. "Pasta, I'm making pasta." Changbin's favorite food.
Changbin winces, but nods anyway. Good, Chan thinks. Right into the trap.
—
Chan cooks quickly and Changbin watches him from his position atop the counter. He's still wrapped in the blanket, Chan set him up with it after he whined about wanting to watch him cook but being too cold to do so. He still doesn't feel too great, but he's working on covering it up. He holds in some sneezes that manage to go unnoticed by Chan, which he counts as a win.
"Achoo-!" Damn it. Chan was looking right at him when that one escaped.
"Bless you. Don't sneeze into your palms, please, that is so gross." Chan cringes, handing Changbin a wipe to clean his hands.
Changbin manages to stop sneezing, but a dry cough takes its place. Chan hands him a glass of water and gives him the look, and Changbin knows his luck is running thin. Chan must be on to him and his not-sickness, he only has so much time left before his husband goes full detective nurse mode.
—
Chan finishes the meal and settles them both at the table with a plate of pasta in front of each of them. He made Changbin leave his blanket in the living room, just in case it got dirty.
"Thank you, yeobo. Smells really good," Changbin smiles.
Chan blushes, always a sucker for praise when it comes to his cooking. "Thanks, now eat."
They begin to dig into their meals, and Chan makes sure to keep a hawk eye on Changbin. He studies his facial expressions with expertise; Changbin's brows are furrowed. This could mean one of two things, either he's really enjoying the food, or he's wincing in pain. Next, Chan focuses his gaze on the other man's hands. The way Changbin is moving his fork around his plate is- it's weird. Usually, Changbin would be twirling his fork in the noodles with expertise, eager to scarf down the meal. But now, he's mushing the fork around and it looks as if he's forcing himself to take every bite. He's also quiet again, and clearly trying to avoid Chan's piercing, unrelenting gaze.
"Does it not taste good?" Chan asks, sulking. He made it the same way he always does, so there's no real reason for Changbin to be reacting this way… unless he wasn't feeling well.
Changbin hears the sulky question and panics, quickly shoving a fork full of pasta into his mouth. "N-No! It's r'lly good, I promise!" He says, swallowing the food in his mouth before continuing. "I'm just not really hungry."
Chan sighs, his fork clanking against his plate, "Baby, I can hear your stomach growling, you're hungry."
"I'm not, I swear. I'm just so tired, I guess it's messing with my appetite," Changbin replies, and it's true. He's upset. Any other day he would have already devoured this plate and asked for seconds, but tonight he would rather die than even sit at the table for any longer.
"Alright, why don't you head to bed then, yeah? Get some rest, I'll clean this up." Chan offers a weak smile, to which Changbin reciprocates. Chan watches his husband stand and shuffle down the hall and into the bathroom to get ready, and he's left alone with his thoughts again.
Chan stands, gathering the dishes and heading to the kitchen to wash them. It's Changbin's dish day, but Chan would be quite the asshole if he made his clearly sick husband do chores. So he washes them, and forces his ears to work overtime as he does. He can hear Changbin coughing and sneezing all the way down the hall, and he sighs. Changbin has never been good at admitting defeat, and this is just another one of those times. The coughing gets more intense and Chan swears he hears a gag, and he stops everything.
The dishes are abandoned and he quickly grabs a water bottle from the fridge and follows the sound of the harsh hacking to their shared bedroom. He pushes the door open and finds Changbin sitting up in bed, hunched over as he struggles to catch his breath.
"Here, here," Chan rushes over, handing the water bottle to Changbin. He stands over the edge of the bed, rubbing his husband's quivering back until he manages to catch his breath. When he does, Chan gives him the look. The I know something's up and you're not telling me, look.
"You're sick." Chan has a hand on his hip as he looks down at Changbin, who looks away with a scowl.
"I'm not. I choked on my spit," he lies.
Chan scoffs. "I know you're sick, I have eyes," he sasses.
"Well you need glasses then, because m'not sick," Changbin grumbles as he lays back down, facing away from Chan's unwavering presence and burying himself in the blankets. He's still sniffling, and he sounds so cute that Chan can't even pretend to be upset anymore.
Chan leans over to just watch, admiring the stubborn beauty of his totally not sick husband. Changbin's eyes are closed and his eyebrows are scrunched. He sneezes again and groans, clearly irritated by the entire ordeal. Chan just smiles and pinches one of his spouse's cheeks, calling him cute, too.
He bends down to leave a kiss on Changbin's forehead. "Get some rest, yeobo," he whispers.
Chan closes the bedroom door fully to prevent any light from seeping in and disturbing Changbin. He was definitely warm, Chan thinks. Not feverish, but warmer than he should be.
What felt like an innocent cheek pinch to Changbin was actually Chan's cleverly disguised temperature check.
Changbin wakes up the next morning and just knows he's going to have a hard day. He woke up sweating, his blaring alarm doing nothing to help the way his head was already pounding. His throat was raw, it hurt to swallow, and he was in a horrible mood. He managed to get ready without letting much of that anger show, keeping up a weak conversation with Chan in the kitchen when making his protein shake. He left the house irritated, believing that Chan had no idea how he was feeling, which he was relieved about.
Except, he was wrong. Chan noticed everything. Before Changbin even had the mind to put up a front, Chan was on to him.
To start, Changbin was basically overheating throughout the night. Chan knew, since he was periodically gauging the other's temperature with his palm whenever he'd wake up from his sleep. Chan rarely slept through the night, always waking up every couple of hours. It usually irritated him, but tonight he was grateful for it. He made sure the blankets weren't covering Changbin too much so he wouldn't worsen his impending fever.
When Changbin woke up, his face was pale and his eyes were watery. Chan noticed that, of course. He's always staring at Changbin, he's got no shame. His husband is beautiful, why wouldn't he stare? Even when he's irritated and snappy, Changbin was gorgeous.
On his way out the door, Changbin's body snitched on him some more. When Chan handed him his duffel bag and protein shake, his hands and arms shook, giving away his weakness. Chan pouted, but schooled his facial expression to an unreadable one as he gave Changbin a kiss on the cheek and sent him off to work. He locked the door and turned back into the apartment with a deep frown and newfound determination. He was going to corner Changbin once and for all.
—
As expected, Changbin's day was full of shit. His first client canceled on him last minute, leaving him with two hours of free time that he could have spent sleeping. The sneezing and coughing only seemed to get worse, and it got to the point where he went and grabbed a mask to stop the spreading of his own germs.
To make matters worse, the trains were fucked, and he had to wait almost twenty minutes on a crowded platform full of people with a pounding headache. When the train finally did arrive, it was crowded, so he couldn't even sit down and snooze for the rest of his way home. He was hot and cold at the same time, and all he wanted to do when he got home was rest.
He got to the door of his apartment and sighed, unlocking it with a weak hand and letting himself in. His eyes were trained to the floor as he toed his shoes off and let his bag slump against the wall, and when he finally looked up, what he saw made him roll his eyes and accidentally worsen his headache.
Chan stands in front of him, his back against the far wall of the foyer. His arms are crossed and his eyes are narrowed as he stares at Changbin.
"How was work?" Chan asks.
"It was fine," Changbin responds sharply. He bends down to unzip his bag, digging his arm in it to fish out his empty bottle.
"Was it? You don't look fine to me," Chan comments. Of course I don't look fine, I feel like shit, Changbin thinks. He doesn’t say that, though.
He settles for, "I'm fine. Just tired."
"Tired, or sick?" Chan pushes, making Changbin throw his head back with a groan.
"Can we not do this right now?
"Do what? I'm just asking. I already know the answer, just wanted to see if you'd tell me the truth," Chan says. His voice was strained, like he was holding something back.
The tone of his voice only seemed to piss Changbin off further, and he spoke with a bit more anger. "You don't know anything, I'm not sick." He sneers.
Chan frowns, locking eyes with his husband. "There's nothing wrong with being sick, yeobo. You don't have to hide it from me."
"There's nothing to hide! I'm-" Changbin cuts himself off abruptly with a harsh cough, turning away to let it out into his elbow, "Fine! I feel fine, I'm just exhausted. There, is that enough for you?" He finishes, raising his voice towards the end of his sentence.
Chan winces at the cough and again at the rise in volume from his usually calm partner. "I'm just trying to help you-"
"I don't need your help! I need you to leave me alone for once, I know my body!"
They both freeze at the sudden outburst, and it stuns them both into silence. Changbin risks a look at Chan and he's frowning, making Changbin feel so ridiculously guilty.
"You're right, I'm sorry," Chan mumbles. He fidgets with his fingers and focuses his gaze at the floor, unsure if he should walk away or wait for Changbin to leave first. They hardly ever have periods of tension like this, so neither of them know what to do. There's silence again, but Changbin is the one to interrupt it this time.
"I'm going to sleep," he announces, and walks away.
Chan watches his partner, his soulmate, walk away until he reaches the bedroom. He forces himself to look away and go back to the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea to help his nerves. While sipping on the hot beverage, he comes to a final realization: his Changbinnie is sick, very sick.
—
Changbin feels like the number one asshole on earth. Chan was only trying to help him and what did he do? Yelled at him, probably scared him, too. Chan doesn't like loud noises, especially not yelling.
Changbin throws himself into bed again, resisting the strong urge to lay on Chan's pillow and inhale his comforting scent. He curls onto his side of the bed, cold and alone, and his eyes begin to well up with tears. He feels so bad, physically and emotionally. He shouldn't be the one crying, Chan just got yelled at for trying to be helpful, he should be the one upset right now! His silent tears escalate to quiet sobs, and his breath hitches around an inhale, making him cough.
He sits up, the movement making his head throb, and coughs again, harder this time. Paired with his sobs that are steadily increasing in volume, Changbin is a mess.
—
Chan was planning on giving Changbin enough time to fall asleep before he went near him again, but he just couldn't ignore the fact that his lover was in their room alone, sick, and upset. So, Chan does the one thing he could think of in a situation like this: he tries to help. He prepares a mug of tea, carrying it carefully down the hall and stopping in the bathroom to grab painkillers from the medicine cabinet. Materials in hand, he stops in front of the closed bedroom door and hesitates.
Listening through the wood, he hears coughing, which was to be expected. He also hears a lot of sniffling, more sniffling than what would come with a sneeze and it almost sounded like Changbin was crying? Chan quickly opens the door and low and behold: Changbin is crying. Sobbing, actually.
"Oh, baby," Chan calls. He rushes over to the bed, placing the mug and painkillers down on the nightstand before crawling into bed and pulling his distressed husband into his arms. He settles them against the soft headboard and holds Changbin close, patting his back firmly to try and reduce the coughing. It works, and now Changbin is left crying pitifully against Chan's chest.
"What's wrong, hm?" Chan asks.
"I'm so sorry!" Changbin hiccups, "M'sorry, sorry-"
"Shh, it's okay," Chan soothes. He uses his hoodie sleeve to wipe away the tears that just keep falling from Changbin's red eyes, pouting at the state of his other half. Changbin coughs again, mumbling another apology.
"You're okay, you don't need to apologize, baby."
"B-But I yelled at you! Aren't you mad?" Changbin whines out, his voice wobbly.
Chan hums, rocking them side to side gently and pressing his cheek against Changbin's hair. "I'm not mad, lovely. I know you didn't mean to shout, I was just worried, yeah?" He continues to sway, leaving gentle kisses against his husband's head and holding him close until his crying simmers down to just sniffles.
Chan gently eases Changbin off of his chest, helping him into a position where he's straddling Chan's thighs. He flicks on the lamp that sits on the nightstand, the dim warm glow helping him see his movements easier. He grabs a handful of tissues and wipes the tears and snot away from his face, throwing the soiled tissues into the small trash bin beside the bed. Turning back to his sulking partner, Chan holds Changbin's warm face between his hands and leaves the lightest kiss on the tip of his red nose.
"I made you some tea and brought some painkillers, if you want them," Chan says, keeping his voice low. "You don't have to take any of it if you don't want to."
Changbin reaches a weak hand out towards the mug and looks at Chan, his shiny eyes silently begging for the mug. He takes the painkillers too, croaking out a raspy thank you before continuing to sip at the tea, his occasional sniffles echoing into the mug. When he's finished, he leans forward onto Chan's chest again, who adjusts their position so they're closer to laying down than they are sitting up.
Chan pushes the back of his hand against Changbin's cheek, and he doesn't shy away from the touch this time. His cheek is warm, and Chan winces. "So you're not sick," he jokes.
Changbin whines, "M'sorry." He buries his face into Chan's chest a little deeper, and Chan tightens his hold around his waist.
"What for?" He asks.
"For lying to you…and shouting," Changbin responds, his pout deepening with guilt.
"You're alright, it's not your fault you don't feel good. I just don't want you to think that you have to hide how you're feeling, especially from me. I don't like seeing you like this, "Chan admits. "I want to take care of you."
Changbin simply nods, sniffling again. He's exhausted and he doesn't have anything to say. He yawns, snuggling into Chan's warm embrace again. Chan adjusts again so that they're laying down, but propped against two pillows so Changbin's sinuses don't clog.
"Go to sleep, yeobo. I'll be right here when you wake up," Chan whispers. He tangles his hand in Changbin's hair, massaging his fingers against his scalp and temple, hoping to relieve some of the pain from the headache that Changbin has to have.
Changbin lets out a sigh of relief, his body finally relaxing as he lets sleep pull him into its clutches.
A few hours later, Changbin begins to stir. His eyes flutter open and he's instantly met with a throbbing headache and a churning stomach. He squints, trying to make out his surroundings in the dark room. Chan must've turned the lamp off while he was asleep, pitch black darkness covers every surface of the room like a blanket. Changbin whines, squirming under the covers and reaching his hand out for Chan.
"Oh, hey, you're awake. How do you feel?" Chan asks. He sets his phone aside, the brightness on the lowest possible setting so as to not disrupt his sick partner's slumber. He grabs onto Changbin's waiting hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His palm is warm, prompting Chan to press his hand onto his sick husband's cheek. He's still ridiculously warm, and Chan sighs.
"Not good," Changbin croaks. "My stomach's hurting and s'cold. I'm shivering, hyung," he whines.
Chan coos, wrapping his arms around the sick man and holding him close. He lifts Changbin's hoodie over his head and tightens the drawstrings, then pulls the quilt up to his chin and kisses his forehead. His free hand reaches downward, stopping on Changbin's stomach and massaging it gently.
"Better? Are you still sleepy, baby?" Chan asks.
Changbin nods, and his eyes begin to droop. "Tired, hyung."
"I know, poor baby," Chan pouts. "Try to go back to sleep, hm? I'll stay with you," He soothes.
They spend the rest of the night like that, tangled together and so warm. Between Changbin's fever and the endless layers he has on, Chan is boiling throughout the night. He refuses to move or even shift too much, though. Changbin needs all the rest he can get.
At some point in the night, Chan accepts the fact that he can't fall back to sleep. He stares at the dark ceiling, his hands still wrapped around Changbin. He checks his temperature again, still warm. It's at that moment that Chan realizes that there's absolutely no way Changbin will be going to work in this state, so he pulls his phone out. He happens to be good friends with his husband's boss, Minho. They went to high school together, and Minho even introduced the wedded couple.
—
[3:25am] me
minho~
its channie
bin's not gonna be in for a couple days
he's sick
fever n everything :(
nono-chan 🐰 [3:31am]
kay
obviously its you
i have your number saved 🙄
[3:32am] me
oh hello
why are you up
its literally 3am go to sleep
nono-chan🐰 [3:34am]
dont worry about it
tell changbinnie i said feel better 😘
take good care of him or
ill do something to you
watch your back hyung
😴😴
[3:35am] me
thank u
ill relay the message and nurse him back to health 😰
sleep well minhoooo 🥰
The next morning is quite the hassle. Changbin wakes up and pukes, sobbing his way through the retching over the toilet. Chan stays by his side, rubbing his back and helping him rinse his mouth out afterwards to get the nasty taste out. He ushers Changbin back into bed and wraps him back up in the blankets. Hovering over the edge of the bed, he looks down at his ill husband with a sympathetic pout.
"Are you hungry? Does your tummy feel better?"
"Mhm, hungry," Changbin mumbles.
Chan hums. "I'll check the kitchen for something to make. I'm not sure we have enough good food for you and your weak stomach," he trails off. He turns around, walking towards the bedroom door when he hears a pitiful whine from behind him.
"Don't leave me!" Changbin cries.
Chan is back by the bed immediately. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm just going to the kitchen," he whispers.
Changbin shakes his head, reaching a shaky hand to grab onto Chan's sweatpants. "Can I come with you, please? Don't wanna be by myself," he pouts.
"Are you sure? Isn't it more comfy in bed?"
"Not without you," Changbin replies. He rolls out of bed and attaches himself to Chan's back, following him down the hall and into the kitchen of their apartment.
"Mmm, just as I thought," Chan says after searching the fridge and cabinets. "Everything in here will most definitely make you puke again."
Changbin huffs, the air hitting Chan's neck and making him shiver. Chan brings a hand up to cup his partner's cheek, and Changbin sighs at the relief. Chan's hands are cold, and they feel great against the younger's warm skin.
"The only thing I can do is go to the store, lovey. You need food."
Changbin yawns. "Kay. M'tired, hyung. Can we go back to bed?"
Chan pouts, leaving a kiss on his baby's cheek and forehead. Changbin is so sluggish and quiet, a stark contrast to his usual energetic and talkative personality.
"You can go back to bed, but I'm gonna go to the store, okay? I'll be so fast."
Chan leads them back to the bedroom and tucks Changbin in, then stops by his closet to change his clothes. He turns back to Changbin, who's been silently watching him from his blanket cocoon.
"Achoo!" Changbin squeaks, making Chan smile.
"Bless you, cutie," he says. "Is there anything specific you want from the store, baby?"
Changbin shakes his head no, yawning again. Chan nods, moving to the bed to grab Changbin's phone. He unlocks it with ease and maneuvers to the FaceTime app, calling his own phone. With the call connected, he props Changbin's phone up on the nightstand so the camera is displaying him in bed.
"There. Now you can be with me when I go out, okay? So you won't be lonely, baby." Chan bends down and leaves a handful of kisses across Changbin's face, his nose, forehead, cheeks, and chin, then begins his trip.
—
Chan walks quickly, his ragged breathing flooding the microphone and bleeding into the quiet bedroom where Changbin lays in bed. He decides to stop at the small market a few blocks away from their building, and he greets the owner kindly when he walks in.
"Okay, I'm here. Lets seee…" he trails off. Skimming the aisles, he stops in front of the large selection of soups. "Changbinnie, baby, which kind of soup do you want? There's chicken noodle, tomato, broccoli cheddar, that one doesn't sound too good for your stomach. There's clam chowder anddd a bunch of other options," he finishes, looking at his phone screen. Changbin grabs his phone and holds it close to his face, squinting at the screen to look at the soup options. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are pouted, and Chan has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling.
"I want chicken noodle, please," Changbin decides. Chan nods, grabbing a handful of noodle packets and dropping them into his basket. He continues to explore the store, humming a tune to himself as he paces around.
"Do you want broth? There's some here. In case you don't want to eat noodles," Chan mumbles.
Changbin hums, and Chan nods. Three cans of chicken broth are added to the basket, and the shopping continues. Twenty minutes pass, and the basket is getting heavier. Instant rice packets, carrots, more noodles, a box of saltine crackers, a liter of ginger ale, and a few boxes of tea. Before each item, Chan made sure to relay every single available option to Changbin, giving his opinions on which ones he thought would be best for the sick man. Changbin made the decision for every single item, and he was beginning to get tired.
"Hyuuung, are you almost finished? I think you have enough stuff, m'not even that sick," Changbin whines.
Chan sucks his teeth, glaring down at his screen. "Of course you're that sick, yeobo. I'm almost finished, I'm going to the check-out right now, okay?" Chan kisses the camera with a giggle. He walks around, and Changbin watches his head swivel as he tries to locate the registers. Chan suddenly stops in another aisle and gasps,
"Oh! Medicine, how could I forget," he looks down at his phone, frowning. "See? You're rushing me and I almost left without medicine, baby." Chan tuts.
Changbin whines loudly, startling Chan. "Can you just come home? I don't need medicine, I'm fine!"
Chan groans, shaking his head. "Don't be like that. I'm getting you medicine, what kind of nurse husband would I be if I let you mope around sick with no medicine?! Now, tell me what's hurting you, please."
Great. More questions for Changbin to answer. He doesn't even want to be awake right now, and he has to list off all of his miseries. He groans, shoving his head into the pillow and relaying his woes.
"I can't hear you when you're hiding your face from me. You don't seem to want me out of this market any time soon!"
Changbin can practically see the nagging look on Chan's face. He groans again, turning his head out of the pillow with teary eyes and a pout. "My head hurts. And my stomach hurts and my shoulders and my jaw and my throat and everything," he sulks through the list, sniffling when he finishes.
"Thank you." Chan focuses his attention back to the medicine shelf in front of him, reading some of the labels to himself. He picks up two boxes and holds them into the camera. "I'll get these. One's for the daytime and one's for the nighttime."
Changbin nods, and Chan frowns at him. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll be home as fast as I can, okay? I know you don't feel good, but I need to make you feel better, so I need to buy all this stuff," he talks as he walks.
"S'okay, I just miss you," Changbin whines.
Chan smiles, "I miss you too— Oh! Ice cream!"
"Hyung! Get out of that market!" Changbin yells, his voice cracking. He whines, long and wet, and shoves his face back into the pillows to cry. Chan doesn't seem to notice his tears, he's too focused on the cooler in front of him.
"I’m trying! It's not my fault the ice cream cooler is like- two inches from the front register. Which flavor do you want?" Chan asks with a slight chuckle. He pulls open the cooler and looks at the options, flipping the camera to let Changbin see as well. "There's vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, coffee, um. Chocolate chip? Do you like any of them, baby?" He looks back to his phone, sighing when he finds Changbin's face hidden into the pillows again.
"Changbin," he calls.
No response. Just a few sniffles and another whine.
"Changbinnieee, hyung is calling you, I know you can hear me," Chan tries again. "This is the last question, I promise. I just want you to enjoy the ice cream, so I need to get the right one, my poor sick baby," he coos.
"I don't want it!" Changbin finally replies. He sits up and crosses his arms, tears streaming down his face. His lip is wobbling and he's sniffling, making Chan wince. "Just come home! Leave the ice cream, leave everything!"
"Shh, it's okay. Don't shout, baby, you'll hurt your throat," Chan soothes. He knows Changbin loves ice cream and he'll probably be quite upset if Chan comes home without any, despite his previous outburst. So, Chan quickly digs his arm into the cooler and grabs a pint of chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips, then closes the cooler and unloads his basket onto the front counter.
Changbin continues to cry, wiping his hoodie sleeves over his face to catch the tears. He's staring at his phone screen angrily, watching as his husband purchases every single item that was in the stupid basket. Chan finishes paying, and he carries the bags in one hand so he can hold his phone with the other.
"All done. I'm on my way home now, okay?" Chan speaks. Changbin watches the clouds move behind his rushing husband, and his anger simmers just a little. At least Chan is trying to be fast this time.
"Are you mad at me?" Chan asks. He pouts dramatically, batting his eyelashes into the camera.
Changbin shakes his head. "No. Stop talking and walk faster," he sasses.
Chan giggles, picking up his pace. "Can you lay back down, please? You still need to rest, even if you claim you're not sick."
"I am sick, and I need you to take care of me," Changbin mumbles, curling back into the blankets. He wipes the last tears off his cheeks, his sniffles coming to a stop.
Chan kisses the camera again. He walks and walks, and his lungs are burning when he finally reaches the lobby of their apartment building. He stays on the phone the entire time, only ending it when he walks into the bedroom.
"Miss me?" He teases.
"I guess. I'm hungry. Feed me, hyung?" Changbin pouts towards his husband with the most pitiful puppy eyes he can muster.
—
Ten minutes pass, and the couple is now in the kitchen. Chan unpacked the groceries, making sure to put the ice cream in the freezer so it won’t melt. He starts cooking for his husband, setting up a pot of boiling water for the soup to cook in. Changbin is sitting on the counter, sniffling occasionally as he watches Chan cook. He's humming a tune as he glides around the kitchen, filling the silence. A little more waiting, and the meal is finished.
Chan settles Changbin on the living room couch. He wraps him up in blankets, pinning his arms to his sides. He brings the bowl of soup into the living room and sits down next to the blanket pile, blowing on it gently to cool it down. The TV is on, and a random drama plays, keeping Changbin occupied.
"Open for me, say ahh," Chan says with an evil smirk. He's holding a fork of noodles out towards Changbin, who scowls.
"I can eat by myself. I'm not a baby, I'm just sick," Changbin fusses. Chan doesn't relent, he simply pouts, nodding.
"Of course you're a baby, you're my baby, baby. Now open, I'm feeding you."
Changbin rolls his eyes, but opens his mouth nonetheless. Chan feeds him his noodles, holding a cup of water up to his lips between every couple of bites. He's nearly done with the bowl when his phone rings. He pulls the fork away, leaving Changbin's waiting mouth open as he checks the caller ID.
"Oh, it's Jisungie!" Chan smiles, answering the video call.
"Hi Channie-hyung!" Jisung's bright voice chirps from the speaker. "How's Changbin-hyung? Where is he, can I see him?"
Chan nods. "He's right here, I'll hold the phone up so you can speak to him. His arms aren't allowed to move," Chan giggles. He flips his phone around so the screen is facing Changbin, who glares at Chan with red cheeks.
"Hello Hannie," Changbin croaks.
"Hyung! How are you feeling?" Jisung asks.
"I'm good. Chan-hyung is taking good care of me," Changbin responds, sending Chan a glance. "How did you even know I was sick?"
Jisung pans the camera over and Minho appears. "Minho-hyung told me. He said you weren't feeling good so I called Chan-hyung to see how you were doing. I have to go, though, feel better soon!" Jisung kisses the camera and forces Minho to do the same, then hangs up the call.
Chan puts his phone down and picks the fork back up, holding it out to Changbin. They continue like that until the bowl is empty, and Changbin yawns.
"Let's get you back to bed," Chan hums. He rushes to the kitchen, putting the soup bowl in the sink and grabbing two of the daytime medicine capsules. Once he gets Changbin to take them, he untangles his drowsy husband from the blankets and hoists him into his arms bridal style. Chan hauls them both down the hall and back into their bedroom, disposing Changbin onto the bed gently.
"Do you need anything? Some more water? Tea?" Chan asks, keeping his voice low.
Changbin shakes his head, and Chan crawls into bed with him. The shopping trip and early morning throw-up fiasco has drained the energy of the both of them, and Chan ends up falling asleep soon after Changbin. The couple rests peacefully, the only sounds filling the room being Chan's snoring and Changbin's occasional congested sniffle.
Chan wakes up after a few hours. He checks the time and finds that they've slept for way longer than anticipated. The sun has set, and the room is dark. Changbin is still asleep, he's removed himself from Chan's side while he slept and was currently in the fetal position a few inches away from Chan. He's tossing and turning and his eyebrows are scrunched together. Chan doesn't think anything of it, he figures Changbin must be dreaming.
Chan finds entertainment in his phone, scrolling through his social media and playing games. He's about to pull up a show to watch when he hears a whine from beside him. He looks over and stares at Changbin, waiting for any other noises. The man whines again, and Chan smiles. Changbin shuffles around, his hands coming to block his eyes subconsciously.
Chan leaves him be and turns back to his phone, pressing play on his show. It plays for no longer than ten seconds before another whine sounds from Changbin. Chan sighs, turning his phone flashlight on and pointing it towards his husband. Changbin is crying, there's tears rolling down his cheeks and his bottom lip is quivering. But he's still asleep!
"Changbinnie, baby, wake up," Chan whispers. He runs his hand down Changbin's face, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. Changbin stirs, whining and reaching his hands out, grasping at the air.
Chan sets his phone on the mattress, the flash illuminating the room enough for him to see. He sits up against the headboard and tugs Changbin up onto his chest. The motion startles him awake, and when he sees Chan he cries more, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck. Chan immediately notices how hot his partner is, and makes a mental note to get the nighttime meds into his system as soon as possible.
"Hyung, hyung, you're alive!" Changbin cries, his tears wetting Chan's neck.
Chan smirks, confused. He rubs Changbin's back, rocking them side to side to try and soothe his baby's worries. "Of course I'm alive, yeobo. Relax, you're okay. Whatever's bothering you was just a dream," he whispers.
Changbin sits up, rubbing his tears away and hiccuping. He sways a little and his eyes are bloodshot when he looks at Chan, who coos. Chan leans forward and kisses his forehead, wiping his tears some more.
"Do you want to talk about it? Tell hyung what happened."
"The muffins!" Changbin shouts. "The- the ones you said you were gonna bring me, they were evil!"
Chan snorts, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth and schooling his expression. "The…muffins? They were evil," he clarifies, and Changbin nods. His eyes are barely open, and Chan comes to the conclusion that his husband probably isn't even conscious right now, and he's just experienced what people call a fever dream.
"Yeah, and they were mean. They- they were tryin' to take you away from me, hyung!" He whines, eyes filling with tears again. The fever has him absolutely delusional, and Chan feels a little guilty for thinking he's adorable.
"Oh, my poor baby, that must've been so scary," he pouts, tugging Changbin down to rest on his chest. "It's okay, there's no more muffins. I ate them all, they won't try to bother you again, okay? I'll make you a fresh batch when you're feeling all better, and you can eat those, sound good?" Chan plays along, sue him. Changbin won’t even remember this, so he can have a giggle to himself.
"Mhm, better," Changbin yawns, snuggling into Chan's embrace. He's sweating, so Chan sits him up again and tugs his hoodie off. Changbin looks to be a few seconds from falling asleep sitting up, and Chan takes his chance to medicate him.
"Don't sleep just yet, baby. Here, take your medicine for hyung. It'll make you sleep easier, yeah?" Chan reaches over to grab the plastic holding the nighttime meds, and the small bottle of water next to it. He's grateful for his past self for preparing the meds before he laid down, making this much easier. Changbin takes the medicine, curling back into Chan's chest afterwards. He's in a black tank top, no longer sweating but his temperature is still high.
Chan assumes he's fallen back to sleep, so he’s startled when Changbin suddenly speaks around half an hour later.
"Hyung?" he whispers.
"Yeah?"
"I can't sleep…my throat hurts," Changbin sulks.
"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Chan offers.
Changbin accepts, and they walk hand in hand to the kitchen. Changbin watches as Chan readies the kettle and rests in his arms while the water heats up. When it's ready, they move back to the living room, sharing a blanket as Changbin sips on his tea.
They spend another hour there, Changbin struggling to fall back to sleep. Chan turns a movie on for the both of them, and it's paused halfway through when he notices that Changbin has finally fallen back to sleep. Chan carries him to bed again and falls asleep relieved. He checked Changbin's temperature one last time, and he was finally starting to cool off.
The following days are spent in a similar fashion. Changbin sleeps, Chan stays by his side. He eats meals that are light on his stomach, and, thankfully, none of them come back up. He finally showers, Chan sits in the bathroom while he does just in case anything happens. He takes his medicine and lounges around, and eventually he begins to feel better.
After a week of hellish sickness, Changbin deems himself well enough to work again. Most of his symptoms are gone and he’s definitely not contagious anymore, he just has a little sniffle that has yet to go away completely.
He wakes up to his gentle alarm for the first time in a while, and he's grateful that he isn't met with a skull splitting headache when he opens his eyes. He gets ready in the bathroom and heads to the kitchen, ready for his morning hug from Chan. Except, there's no Chan.
Changbin stands in place, confused. He goes back to the bedroom and finds Chan…still asleep? Walking towards the bed, he stares at his husband's sleeping figure. Chan is completely wrapped up in the blankets, a sleepy pout on his face.
"Hyung," Changbin whispers. "Yeobo, you're late."
"Huhwha- what?" Chan mumbles, sitting up quickly and wincing at the sudden movement. Changbin frowns. Chan has never once missed his alarm. The only time he's done so was a while ago when he had the flu.
Oh. Chan is sick. He got Chan sick.
"Oh baby, lay back down. I'm sorry, I think I got you sick," Changbin says. He brushes Chan's bangs out of his face and presses his hand against his forehead, wincing at the heat that zings his palm. "Yeah, definitely sick. I'll let Felix know you won't be able to make it to work for a few days, just rest, baby."
Changbin kisses his cheek, leaving the room. Thankfully, Chan didn't protest, he seemed too out of it to even realize what was going on. Changbin quickly gives Felix a call, letting him know Chan's situation before hanging up. He grabs a packet of medicine from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen, then makes his way back to the bedroom.
Chan has fallen back to sleep and he doesn't look to be in any pain, so Changbin holds off on the medicine. He changes out of his workout clothes and back into his sleep clothes, crawling back into bed with his warm husband. Chan stirs, curling into Changbin's side and whining.
"Changbinnie, my stomach hurts," he pouts.
"I know, I'm sorry. Are you hungry? Maybe some food will help settle your stomach?" Changbin whispers, carding his fingers through Chan's fluffy curls.
"Mmm, I want soup."
Shit. Changbin isn't good at making soup. He can make rice, no problem.
"Um- I'm not really the best at soup, baby. What about rice?" He offers, wincing at the resulting whine from Chan. His eyes are watery as he looks up at Changbin with betrayal painted across his face.
"But I want soup!" Chan cries. “My mother used to make me chicken soup when I was sick, so I need chicken soup now, please?” Tears run down his flushed cheeks, and Changbin is quick to wipe them
"Oh don't cry, hyung. I'll- I can call your mom? She can help me make you some soup. Is that good? Please don't cry, you'll only make yourself feel worse," he frowns.
"Yeah, s'good. Can-can you add egg in it, too?" Chan sniffles.
Changbin sighs, but nods. It's going to be a long week.