𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐

TW: none

fluffy sickfic

Requested by Ydeath_606

I hope it's to your liking! I had fun with this one

Chan wants to curse out whoever opened his fucking window shades.

The early morning light is too much, especially for his weary brain. Of course, it doesn't help that he fell asleep at five this morning... purely by accident, and, in his eyes, semi-early. At least it's better than six a.m.

He regrets not listening to Minho the night before more than ever now, the headache that has been tormenting him for the past few days striking at him with a vengeance, more of a migraine now than anything else.

He should have listened to the dancer.

Should have, would have, could have.

He also probably should have mentioned the fever to him the moment he got it, instead of simply choosing to keep quiet. In his defense, he truly thought that he would be able to power through it.

Apparently not.

Oh, well.

It's too late to do anything about it now.

His door creaks open, and he groans softly, doing his best to ignore the intruder, even as a set of chills suddenly wrack his body.

"Hyung?"

Chan doesn't respond.

He can't, the world flashing in a series of bright colors, red and blue and yellow and white, too bright and loud for him to be able to focus on anything, let alone Minho's voice.

He dimly is aware of footsteps, the mattress dipping as someone sits next to him.

A cool hand brushes across his forehead, followed by a string of curses.

"Shit, hyung, why didn't you tell us you were feeling like this yesterday? There's no way you've only had this fever for one day."

Chan mumbles something unintelligible in response. If he is being honest, even he isn't sure what he is trying to say.

Minho must understand, or at least pretends that he does.

His hand rests on Chan's forehead again, and he clicks his tongue worridly.

"You need to eat. Do you think you can manage some crackers, or something else to eat? I have medicine for that fever, but you need to have something in your stomach first."

Chan manages what he thinks is a nod.

He isn't sure. Everything is cold and the room feels like it's spinning.

Minho sighs, then stands, the mattress shifting again.

"Right. I'll be back. If you can wait, I'll make some soup."