Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

The Boiling Point (Wonjin & Jungmo)

The tension in the practice room was suffocating, as it had been for the past few weeks. Jungmo paced across the room, his mind racing with frustration. Every rehearsal felt like a battleground, with Wonjin seemingly at the center of all his irritation. It wasn't that Wonjin did anything wrong—if anything, he was perfect, maybe too perfect. But Jungmo was on edge, and Wonjin's calm presence somehow ignited his anger.

Wonjin, on the other hand, was exhausted. The endless practices, the pressure to perfect their routines, and the strain of keeping up with both his vocal and dance responsibilities weighed heavily on him. But what drained him the most was Jungmo. The constant criticism, the biting remarks—it had gone on for too long.

It was another late evening, and the rest of the members had left to grab a quick dinner. Only Jungmo and Wonjin remained in the practice room, working on a specific dance sequence that had been giving Jungmo trouble. Wonjin had tried to help, but every suggestion he made seemed to trigger Jungmo.

"Why do you keep saying it like that?!" Jungmo snapped, spinning to face Wonjin, his frustration boiling over.

Wonjin sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He'd been patient—too patient—but his own nerves were frayed. "I'm just trying to help, Jungmo-hyung."

"Well, it doesn't feel like help. You're always so perfect, aren't you?" Jungmo's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Wonjin flinched. The words cut deeper than they should have, and he felt a flash of heat rise in his chest. He was tired. Tired of the fights, tired of being the target of Jungmo's anger. His fingers curled into fists, but he kept his tone steady. "What's your problem? I'm doing my best, just like you."

"My problem?" Jungmo's voice rose, his frustration finally spilling over. "You're my problem! You act like you're better than the rest of us. You don't say it, but you don't have to. You think I can't see it?"

Wonjin's patience snapped. "I don't know where you're getting that idea, but I'm just as stressed as you are! You're the one who keeps picking fights, and I'm done with it!"

The argument escalated quickly, both of them shouting over each other. It wasn't just about the dance routine anymore—it was about weeks of pent-up frustration. Jungmo, overwhelmed by his own emotions, couldn't stop himself from lashing out.

"I'm done with this too!" Jungmo yelled. "You think you're the only one feeling the pressure? You have no idea—"

But then he stopped mid-sentence. Wonjin had suddenly gone quiet, and Jungmo noticed something off. Wonjin's face had gone pale, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He swayed slightly, one hand reaching up to his face.

"Wonjin?" Jungmo's voice softened in confusion, his anger momentarily forgotten. He watched in horror as a thin line of blood began to trickle from Wonjin's nose.

Panic surged through Jungmo. "Wonjin!" He rushed forward, instinctively trying to grab him, but Wonjin weakly pushed him away.

"I'm fine," Wonjin muttered, though his voice was weak, and his legs wobbled beneath him. He took a shaky step forward, but the world around him spun, and he collapsed.

Jungmo barely caught him before he hit the floor, his heart hammering in his chest as he cradled Wonjin's limp body. "No, no, no. Wonjin, stay with me," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

His hands shook as he pulled out his phone, frantically dialing Serim's number. "Hyung, help! It's Wonjin—he's collapsed. There's blood—please hurry!"

Moments later, Serim burst into the room, his eyes widening at the sight. Wonjin lay unconscious in Jungmo's lap, his nose still bleeding. Jungmo was crying, his hands shaking as he brushed Wonjin's hair away from his face, trying to stop the blood with his sleeve.

"Jungmo, calm down," Serim said, kneeling beside them, his own worry masked by his need to take control of the situation. "We need to call an ambulance."

Serim dialed for the paramedics, his voice steady even though his heart was racing. He knelt beside Jungmo, trying to reassure him. "It's going to be okay, Jungmo. Just breathe."

But Jungmo couldn't breathe. The guilt was suffocating. He had been so focused on his own anger, on his own frustrations, that he hadn't even noticed how much Wonjin had been struggling. And now, Wonjin was lying in his arms, unconscious, because of him.

When the paramedics arrived, they moved quickly to check on Wonjin, gently cleaning the blood from his face and assessing his condition. One of them turned to Jungmo and Serim with a calm expression. "It looks like he fainted from stress and exhaustion. His body just couldn't handle it. He'll be okay, but he needs to rest."

Serim had to gently pull Jungmo away as the paramedics lifted Wonjin onto a stretcher. Jungmo resisted at first, not wanting to leave his side, but Serim squeezed his shoulder. "Let them do their job. He'll be fine."

Jungmo nodded numbly, his eyes never leaving Wonjin as the paramedics tended to him. His mind was spinning with guilt and fear. How had it come to this? How had he let things get so bad?

When the paramedics finally cleared Wonjin to go home, Serim and Jungmo helped him into the car and took him back to the dorms. Serim led them into Wonjin's room, carefully laying him down on his bed.

As Serim turned to leave the room, he glanced back and saw Jungmo lying down beside Wonjin, his face still tear-streaked. The guilt was eating him alive, and he couldn't bring himself to leave Wonjin's side. Serim watched for a moment, his heart heavy with worry for both of them, before quietly closing the door behind him.

The next morning, Wonjin stirred, his head heavy and his body sore. He blinked, slowly becoming aware of the warmth beside him. He turned his head and froze. Jungmo was curled up next to him, his face inches away, his cheeks streaked with dried tears. Wonjin could feel Jungmo's arm wrapped tightly around him, his body clinging to him as if he were afraid to let go.

Wonjin tried to shift, but Jungmo stirred, his eyes fluttering open. The moment Jungmo saw that Wonjin was awake, his eyes filled with fresh tears, and before Wonjin could say anything, Jungmo lunged forward, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," Jungmo choked out, his voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't see how much you were struggling. I'm sorry, Wonjin. I'm so sorry."

Wonjin was taken aback by the intensity of Jungmo's apology, but the anger he had felt before was gone. All he could see now was Jungmo's genuine guilt and regret. Wonjin gently rubbed Jungmo's back, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay, hyung," Wonjin said quietly. "I should have said something earlier. We've both been under a lot of stress."

Jungmo pulled back, wiping at his eyes, but the tears kept coming. "I didn't mean to push you so hard. I just... I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been so angry, and I took it out on you. I didn't realize how much you were going through."

Wonjin shook his head, offering Jungmo a small smile. "We've all been going through a lot. It's not just you."

Jungmo nodded, though the guilt still weighed heavily on him. "I don't want to fight with you anymore," he whispered. "I'm sorry for picking fights."

"I don't want to fight either," Wonjin admitted. "Let's just... talk next time. Instead of yelling."

"Yeah," Jungmo agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "No more yelling."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting. Jungmo eventually leaned back against the pillows, exhausted but relieved. Wonjin, still weak from his fainting spell, leaned into Jungmo's side, grateful for the quiet understanding that had settled between them.

They spent the rest of the day in bed, talking about everything that had led up to their blowout. The weight of the comeback, the exhaustion, and their own unspoken frustrations. Slowly, they began to rebuild the trust that had been shaken.

By the time night fell, they had both fallen asleep again, side by side, the tension that had hung between them finally gone.

For the first time in weeks, both of them felt like they could breathe again.