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“Sunoo!” Sunghoon is frantic at this point. His hands are fiddling with his tie, his hair is refusing to communicate despite the copious amounts of hair gel he’d tried to slop on, and he can’t find his fucking keys. “Sunoo! Have you seen my keys?”
The shock of waking to see the alarm clock flashing ‘8:45’ in taunting red text was still fresh in Sunghoon’s mind. He rubs the side of his head in frustration.
“No…” calls a strangely quiet voice from the bedroom.
Sunghoon pauses, his tie still half-done around his neck, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Sunoo’s voice replies.
Sunghoon frowns. “Are you sure? You don’t sound so good.”
“I’m fine.”
Sunghoon hesitates. He glances at the clock: ‘8:55’.
Shit.
If he leaves now, maybe he can at least make it by 9:10. Sunghoon’s hands go back to looping his tie as he resumes the search for his keys. He runs into the only room he hasn’t checked — the kitchen.
Sunghoon eventually finishes with his tie. His eyes dart around the kitchen before a slight glint of metal catches his eye, somewhere by the coffee maker.
Oh thank god. By some miracle, the keys are sitting right in front of him on the counter. He shoves them in his blazer pocket.
“Found them!” Sunghoon calls out, “Now come and give me a kiss, I’m late!”
“No, just go,” Sunoo’s voice responds.
Sunghoon stares at the bedroom door down the hallway. Something is definitely wrong. “Sunoo? Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, just go!” Sunoo croaks, “I’ll make you even more late!”
“Sunoo, you sound sick—”
“I’m fine,” Sunoo insists.
Sunghoon frowns again, he hurriedly walks up to the bedroom door and gently pushes it open. All he can see from the doorway is a Sunoo-sized lump under the blanket. Sunghoon carefully approaches him.
“Sunoo?” He calls softly.
“Sunghoon, I’m seriously fine,” Sunoo tries to assure. However, the wet cough that follows is significantly less convincing.
“Oh, Sunoo,” Sunghoon lowers himself onto the bed, his arm resting on the other side of Sunoo’s body, which is still covered by the duvet.
“Stop it,” Sunoo murmurs with a rasp. “You should get to work.”
“Work can wait.” Sunghoon slowly places his hands on the top of the blanket, grasping it and bringing it down.
Eventually, Sunoo’s face appears, his hair a disheveled mess. Ignoring Sunoo’s cute little squirms, Sunghoon rests the back of his hand on Sunoo’s forehead. As suspected, he’s burning with a fever.
Sunghoon sighs, brushing his fingers through Sunoo’s hair. He leans down and plants a kiss on his temple. Sunoo’s head turns sharply.
“Sunghoon! You’ll get sick!” He croaks, alarmed.
Sunghoon chuckles, rubbing his thumb on Sunoo’s cheek, “I’ll go and get some soup.” He rises from the bed.
Sunoo lets out a defeated wheeze, “You really don’t have to—”
“Save your voice,” Sunghoon interrupts, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Sunoo looks at him with hazy eyes, and Sunghoon nearly melts. He smiles softly down at Sunoo, before turning on his heel and making his way out the door.
“Thank you,” Sunoo’s voice says quietly. So quietly that Sunghoon wonders if he was even supposed to hear it.
Sunghoon turns around to look back at Sunoo from the doorway. Sunoo has already shut his eyes, body curling deeper into the sheets, and Sunghoon’s heart does a backflip in his chest.
He pulls himself away and leaves the room. As Sunghoon hurries towards the apartment door, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and begins to call his work.
Sunghoon knocks on the bedroom door, gently pushing it open with his hip, “Sunoo? I’m back.”
Sunoo’s head pops out from under the blanket. He makes a miserable groaning noise.
Sunghoon walks in, balancing a wooden tray in his arms. Atop rests a bowl of heated chicken soup, a lemon ginger honey tea, and a packet of headache pills — all supplied by the convenience store across from their apartment complex.
Sunoo stares at the tray in awe. His eyes look slightly glazed over.
Sunghoon places the tray carefully beside Sunoo on the mattress — he knew it wouldn’t fit on the tiny nightstand by the bed — and gives Sunoo’s hair a ruffle. Sunoo usually hates when he does it but Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking slight advantage of the situation. Besides, Sunoo seems too entranced by the tray to care.
“Sunghoon—“ Sunoo begins to croak, pulling himself towards the tray before a fit of spluttering coughs cuts his words short.
Sunghoon tuts, “Remember, I told you to save your voice.” He sits down next to Sunoo and starts rubbing his back in circular motions.
Sunoo lets out one last phlegmy cough, before looking back at Sunghoon with pitiful eyes, “I just…thank you.”
Sunghoon can feel his heart swelling.
Sunoo turns away, “And…I’m sorry.”
Sunghoon frowns, “Huh? Why?”
“For wasting your day.”
Sunghoon pauses, before releasing a sigh, “Don’t say things like that, Sunoo.”
Sunoo doesn’t respond. He’s looking down at the tray.
Sunghoon rests his hands around Sunoo’s waist, “You’re not a waste of time, you know that right? You could never waste my time. I don’t care about anything other than you, okay? You’re the only thing that matters to me right now.”
For a moment the room is very still.
Then Sunoo nods his head weakly. Sunghoon knows he still doesn’t fully believe him. He knows Sunoo still feels guilty. But he also knows that all he can do is stay here, by Sunoo’s side, and that maybe, eventually, he’ll make Sunoo understand. And for now, that’s enough.
Sunghoon presses a kiss to Sunoo’s back, just under his left shoulder, “Now drink your soup, it’s getting cold.”
Sunghoon yawns, his fingers still clacking away at the keyboard. At this point, he’s pretty sure he’s reached some kind of flow state. He’s been writing reports for so long that the sun has set and the view outside the bedroom’s balcony door has turned a dark blue.
Sunghoon takes a break from his laptop to look back at the bed.
Sunoo is fast asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly and his head lolled over to the left side. Sunghoon can’t get a good look at his face, so he rises from his chair and, as quietly as he can, approaches the bed. He kneels down so his eyes are level with Sunoo’s.
Even though he’s sick, Sunoo still looks beautiful. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and the tip of his nose has turned a bright red.
Sunghoon is suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him. Sunoo’s been avoiding physical contact all day, (“Sunghoon, you’ll get sick!”, “You need to stay healthy for work”, “Stop it Sunghoon, I’m still contagious”), which Sunghoon has tried really, really hard to accept. But he’s been touch-starved for far too long, and now his body is violently craving it.
So in a brief moment of what’s most likely stupidity, Sunghoon presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Sunoo’s mouth. His skin is abnormally warm.
Sunoo’s eyes slowly open. And Sunghoon can see the cogs turning in his head as Sunoo realises what just happened.
“Sunghoon?” Sunoo rasps, his eyes are icy. Since when could a sick person look so threatening?
“Oh, Sunoo! You’re awake!” Sunghoon reels backward, hoisting himself up off the floor. He feels safer now that he’s out of arm’s reach.
“Sunghoon,” Sunoo’s voice is dangerous, “did you just—?”
“Oh don’t worry, that was nothing,” Sunghoon insists, “It was just a quick…I mean I barely even touched your lips if you think about it.“
“How many times did I tell you?!” Sunoo props himself up on his elbows. Maybe the soup and tea was a bad idea, it had clearly given him way too much strength.
“Honestly, Sunoo, it’s not that bad. I’m telling you, I don’t even feel any…any…a…a-achoo!” Sunghoon is interrupted by a loud sneeze.
Silence.
Sunoo is staring daggers at him. “Sunghoon, you stupid—”
“Hah, no that was just a normal sneeze. I’m fine, seriously,” Sunghoon tries to assure. Then he feels the bridge of his nose begin to tingle again.
Sunghoon can feel the panic rising in his chest, he needs to escape from Sunoo’s glare. If looks could kill, Sunghoon would be a dead man. “J-just gotta go…get snack…from kitchen,” Sunghoon tries to bolt towards the door, but it’s too late.
His traitorous nose lets out another sneeze.
Sunoo’s voice is dripping with venom. “Park Sunghoon, I’m going to fucking kill y—“