Myungsoo stared glumly outside as he tried to stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Being sick never so much – well being sick generally , but this wasn’t the usual biannual cold he would get. This was some awful mutation of a Japanese flu he had caught while he was on the plane back from Japan. Lovely timing considering everything; it was the first break he had since getting the drama role. Although he had meant to actually do something other than sit at home and vegetate in front of the television, it was better than if he had schedules to fulfill.

A violent cough hacked its way out of his lungs. If only his mother were here, she’d make him the infallible soup that cured everything, from colds to broken arms (he’d never quite figured out how that worked, but it worked and he was not one to question it).

A soft knock on his door forced him to turn his head.

“What do you want?” He winced as his vocal cords gave up half way through his question.

“I made some soup for you hyung,” Sungjong poked his head through the door. “I thought you might need it; you sound like you’re dying up here.”

“Thanks,” Myungsoo croaked out; talking while sick was clearly not one of his talents.

“I’ve also had Sunggyu – hyung go out to get some medication,” Sungjong said while inserting himself in Myungsoo’s room now that he was sure Myungsoo wasn’t going to spew out any profanities. “And some clean sheets, staying cooped up in the same set can’t possibly be good for you; you keep on coughing and who knows what you’re coughing up.”

Sungjong busied himself with helping Myungsoo out of his bed and onto a chair and then changing Myungsoo’s sheets.

“Sometimes I’m really thankful that there’s at least one member who knows what they’re doing even if he gets mistaken as a girl on regular basis,” Myungsoo mumbled. His eyelids were drooping; he knew he’d be asleep in a matter of minutes if he didn’t force himself to stay up until he got back to bed.

“So nice to know I’m being appreciated for my talents,” Sungjong huffed with a pout adorning his lips.

Myungsoo's only response was a slight smirk.

The smirk turned into a grunt when Sungjong came to help him back to bed after the sheets were done.

“You know this would be easier if another member helped.”

“Unfortunately for you, they’re all scared of the big, bad disease,” Sungjong replied. He tucked Myungsoo in and put the bed tray on his lap. “Now eat and I’ll be back in a bit with the medicine.”

“Anything else you want, your highness?”

“Just eat,” Sungjong answered with a roll of his eyes.

Myungsoo melted back against his pillows and a smile found its way on to his face as he sipped the soup Sungjong prepared. Well, being sick could be a lot worse but then there would always be a snarky little maknae to make his day better. In fact, the soup was almost as good as his mother’s (not that you’d hear him say it – especially anywhere near his mother).

Now if he could make the maknae come back and feed him…maybe if he started coughing again.