Ateez Oneshots & Sickfics

Yunho: Holding Him Up

•Ateez: Yunho
•Sickfic
•CW: fever, nausea.
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It had been a long, grueling week for the members of Ateez, a rising K-pop group. They'd just finished a high-energy schedule filled with interviews, rehearsals, and recording sessions, and now the group was finally given a few precious days to rest. For the members, it was a welcome break. For Yunho, it was something else entirely.

He had woken up feeling off that morning-his stomach in knots, his body aching with a low fever. But as was typical in their line of work, Yunho pushed through, thinking it was just a minor inconvenience. "It's nothing," he had told himself. "I'll be fine after breakfast." But the nausea only intensified, making even the simplest task a challenge. It wasn't until they were on their way to the studio for a filming session that Yunho felt the full brunt of the stomach bug hit him.

By the time they arrived, he was pale and sweating, the queasy sensation in his stomach becoming impossible to ignore. He could barely hold himself upright as they entered the building, and when he tried to join his bandmates for a quick rehearsal before their shoot, he had to sit down, clutching his stomach in misery.

"Yun, you look awful," said Mingi, his voice full of concern as he walked over. "Why didn't you say anything? You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Yunho insisted, but his voice was weak, and his usual playful energy was completely gone. "I just... I think I ate something bad."

But Mingi didn't look convinced. His eyes darted to the rest of the group, who were also starting to notice Yunho's condition. Hongjoon, the leader, placed a hand on his forehead, his face immediately softening.

"No, you're burning up," Hongjoon said, frowning deeply. "You're not fine, Yunnie."

At that, the other members gathered around. Seonghwa, always the nurturing one, bent down to Yunho's level, his voice gentle. "Come on, let's get you to the lounge and lie down for a bit. You don't need to push yourself."

Yunho opened his mouth to protest, but the wave of dizziness that followed made him think better of it. He nodded weakly, allowing Mingi and Hongjoon to guide him toward a quiet lounge area.

As they settled him onto the couch, the discomfort in his stomach only grew worse. Yunho curled into himself, hugging his knees to his chest, his face contorted with pain. He could hear the worried murmurs of his bandmates around him, but he didn't have the strength to speak.

"You need some water," Yeosang said, grabbing a bottle from the table. "Here, take a sip. We'll get you some medicine in a minute."

Yunho tried to lift his hand to take the bottle but found it too heavy. He closed his eyes, feeling utterly defeated. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to slow everyone down..."

"Don't apologize," San said softly, sitting beside him and rubbing his back in soothing circles. "You're not slowing anyone down. We're all in this together. Just focus on getting better. We've got you."

Seonghwa sat beside him on the other side, his hand resting gently on his arm. "Yeah, you're our baby," he teased softly, trying to lighten the mood. "You can't go around getting sick. You've got to take care of yourself, you know?"

Yunho chuckled weakly, but the effort only made his stomach churn. He winced, closing his eyes. "I just... feel so gross. I can't even keep anything down."

"Don't worry, we'll help you," Wooyoung said firmly, his voice comforting. "Sangie, can you go grab some ginger tea from the kitchen? That'll settle his stomach."

"Got it," Yeosang replied, already standing up. He turned back to Yunho with a reassuring smile. "We'll take care of you."

While Yeosang was gone, Wooyoung kept rubbing his back gently, offering quiet words of reassurance. "Rest, okay? We're not going anywhere. Just close your eyes for a while."

Yunho complied, drifting in and out of consciousness as his bandmates looked after him. The fever was making him feel disoriented, and every time he tried to sit up, his stomach rebelled. The worst part was how utterly helpless he felt. He wasn't used to being taken care of-he was usually the one lifting others up, cracking jokes, making sure everyone was okay.

But today, he was the one in need, and it was comforting in an odd way to feel their care. They didn't treat him like a burden; they just... took care of him.

When Yeosang returned with the tea, she handed him the warm cup, his voice full of concern. "Drink it slowly. It'll help."

Yunho took a sip, the warmth of the tea soothing his upset stomach a little, though the nausea didn't completely disappear. He closed his eyes again, leaning back against the pillow. "I'm really sorry, guys..."

"Seriously, stop apologizing," Hongjoon said with a chuckle, although his smile was laced with worry. "You've given us so much. We're just returning the favor."

Yunho smiled faintly at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. He felt a little more at ease as the others settled around him, chatting quietly and doing their best to distract him. Jongho, ever the caring older brother, suggested they watch a movie to pass the time.

"Pick something light," he said with a smile. "We need to cheer Joon up."

Despite the unease in his stomach, Yunho felt comforted. They had made him feel cared for in a way he hadn't expected. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this safe and loved, his bandmates doing everything they could to help him recover.

As the hours passed, the worst of his symptoms began to subside, and by the time night fell, Yunho was able to sit up and eat a small bowl of soup, with Wooyoung and Mingi feeding him bites and making sure he wasn't overexerting himself.

"You sure you're okay?" Seonghwa asked, glancing up from his phone. "You're looking better."

"Yeah, a little," Yunho replied, his voice still weak but thankful. "Thanks, guys. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd be fine," Hongjoon said with a grin, ruffling Yunho's hair. "But we're glad to take care of you. You've earned it."

Yunho smiled, leaning back into the couch, feeling the warmth of their care surround him like a soft blanket. He might have been the youngest, but in that moment, he knew he was never alone.

(1082)