When Jaejoong wakes up with a headache, he knows it’s a bad sign. A sign that, really actually, he should just not even bother getting out of bed. Because no day that starts with a headache has ever gone well, it just doesn’t happen. Headaches are harbingers of bad. But he’s an idol and this is his life now and there are things like voice lessons and photoshoots and dance practice that have to happen, harbinging headaches or no. So Jaejoong drags himself out of bed and through the shower anyway. Pulls on clothes that at least are comfortable. Tries (and mostly just pretends) to eat some breakfast. Takes something for the pain quick when no one’s looking and pretends to be fine.

It’s not so hard in the studio; he’s much better at singing than he once was. Gone are the days of missing half the notes and flubbing the rest, his voice does what he wants it to. (And he’s maybe a little bit proud of that. Maybe a lot a bit, actually. Because he knows he surprised them. After he failed that first audition he worked his off to improve, and, yeah, he joined an underground band to help, but that’s still not the same as having actual voice lessons with professional teachers, so when they took him on, he was better but still not great and he’s pretty sure they still weren’t quite sure what to do with him vocally. Pretty sure they hired him more as an adequate singer who had a pretty enough face to be the visual than as someone they really thought would be a Singer. Certainly they never expected him to be a lead vocalist — as much as a group like TVXQ has lead vocalists. But he is. His voice is maybe one of the best in the group now, and he knows better than to brag, and it’s not that he’s smug, exactly. He’s not saying that the others aren’t good, because they are, they’re amazing. But he worked really ing hard to get here and he earned this and so at least here, in the privacy of his own head, he is proud.) So singing when he’s not feeling his best isn’t that hard. Is something he can do, actually, with pretty minimal effort. And they don’t have any interviews or radio dramas or photoshoots today, so that’s good, although he supposes the makeup would have helped. If he looks half as tired as he’s starting to feel, someone’s going to notice eventually.

They get an forty-five minute break for lunch before dance practice. Jaejoong isn’t really hungry, but he knows he should eat something so he grabs a banana and plunks down beside Yoochun.

“That’s all you’re eating?” And of course, Changmin would be the one to notice and of course he would notice that, because he’s Changmin and he can eat as much as all the rest of them put together in one go and then still be hungry half an hour later and Jaejoong is really glad they get a grocery allowance otherwise they’d never be able to afford it.

He shrugs. “Not that hungry,” he says.

“Ah, hyung, you shouldn’t listen to people about diets,” says Junsu, fidgeting with his chopsticks and not quite looking at Jaejoong. “You don’t need it; you’re tiny anyways. You really should eat more, probably.”

Jaejoong stares across the table at him. And Junsu is sweet and not at all stupid, but he’s a little strange sometimes. He doesn’t really care what people think of him, though he does want them to like him, and he never takes off that bracelet from his twin brother and he doesn’t really seem to get it about fanservice and he worries about the weirdest things sometimes. And he does it so earnestly that Jaejoong just doesn’t know what to do with him.

“I’m not dieting,” he says incredulously, because the idea is ridiculous. He can’t eat like Changmin can (no one can eat like Changmin can) but he loves food and he never really worries about what he eats and the managers only fuss about food because of the grocery bill anyway. “I’m just not that hungry. It’s a thing that can happen; we can’t all be vacuum cleaners.” He reaches across the table to pat Changmin on the head.

Changmin, mouth full, glowers at him over a spoonful of rice. “I’m growing,” he mumbles around his food.

“Ah, but when will you stop?” asks Yoochun. It’s a good question; the maknae is already taller than everyone except for Yunho, and these days even they’re looking more and more like the same height. Changmin tries to stand so no one can tell when they’re in public, keeping his feet apart or his knees bent a little, but it won’t work for much longer if he keeps growing the way he has been. Jaejoong wonders if he’ll stop doing it on his own — when it gets too uncomfortable or starts looking too ridiculous — or if he’ll have to tell Yunho to have a talk with with him. Let him know it’s okay. (Yunho doesn’t seem to have noticed, and probably wouldn’t understand why even if he did, but he adores Changmin almost as much as Changmin looks up to him so if it gets any worse, starts to get too ridiculous, Jaejoong might have to intercede.)

“Never!” says Changmin, swallowing his mouthful and grinning. “I’m going to be the tallest person ever. Except for Yunho,” he adds, frowning, glancing over at Yunho (eating his own lunch standing up while he talks to one of the staff, doing his duty as leader, which Jaejoong still has no idea how he manages it all), clearly trying to figure out how to make that work.

Jaejoong snorts. “Careful,” he says. “I think you just found one of those math problems they always warn you about in school. We can’t afford for you to become any more crazy than you already are.”

And that might be a little rich, coming from him, because he is definitely on the managers’ list of members who might be too crazy/impulsive to be allowed out without a chaperone, but haranguing Changmin is such a habit now that the maknae would probably worry more about him if he didn’t tease. He forces down another few bites, then stands.

“I didn’t sleep well. I’m going to try to nap for the rest of break so I’ll be up in the practice rooms. Tell Yunho for me.”

He doesn’t bother to wait for a reply. They will. He knows they will. He heads up to the dance studios, finds a corner to curl up in, and tries to sleep.

 

It doesn’t help. When Yoochun shakes him awake, he thinks he actually feels worse, if that’s possible. His body aches in places it shouldn’t and he can’t quite seem to shake the fuzzy sleep feeling from his head. But dance practice is important; they’re blocking the choreo for a music video that they’re supposed to start filming for in two weeks. Jaejoong takes Yoochun’s hand up and follows him into the practice room.

Stretching helps wake him up some, but it’s not enough. His dancing abilities are good — nothing like Yunho’s, who dances like it’s what he was born to do, or Junsu’s, who dances like he thinks he was — but he’s hit or miss at best; too easily distracted some days, randomly clumsy or uncoordinated on others. And after he messes up the first time, he gets flustered and can’t find the rhythm again. And today it’s like his limbs are made of something foreign. Like he’s disconnected from his body a little. It makes him move a little strangely. Makes him need to watch the others to remember what they’re doing, leaving him a beat behind every time.

And it’s only the first day of the choreo and they’re only blocking it for now, so he can get away with it for a bit, but both Yunho and their dance instructor are pretty picky about their choreo and they almost always notice when someone’s messing up. And Jaejoong does’t usually start out this sloppy. Tends to pick things up quickly and then make mistakes later. And he knows Yunho has noticed; can feel those eyes on him, watching, and he’d apologize if he could but all his energy right now is going into staying on his feet and remembering even one out of every five steps he’s supposed to be doing.

They start again. And Jaejoong is so tired. They start again. And his head doesn’t hurt anymore, but it doesn’t feel right, either. They start again. Is he even still attached to his feet? They start again. And—

“Hyung!”

Jaejoong blinks, trying to see past the weird, neon sparkles that seem to have taken over the room.

“Hyung?”

Junsu’s face blurs into (semi)focus. The sparkles are still everywhere, even Junsu’s hair and Jaejoong his head.

“You’re all shiny,” he says, feeling confused. They won’t use glitter until they start filming, and anyway, glitter is never this big. Or this weirdly colored.

“Hyung!” Junsu says again. “Hyung, what—?”

Hands on his shoulders. On his back. Jaejoong knows those hands. Knows this smell. He looks over as Yunho crouches down beside him (When did he sit down? He doesn’t remember sitting down). Jaejoong opens his mouth to ask what’s going on, but stops when Yunho lays a palm on his forehead. He hums a little, closes his eyes, leans into the touch. Then he remembers there are other people in the room and makes himself stop.

“Hyung, what’s wrong with him?” Junsu asks, and he sounds so worried. So genuine.

“I’m fine,” Jaejoong says. Promises. Junsu shouldn’t worry. “I’m just tired.”

“No, you’re not,” says Yunho, and he sounds a little angry. And a lot concerned. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you say you were sick?”

“I’m not,” Jaejoong protests. 

“He said at lunch he didn’t sleep well, but he hasn’t looked good all day,” says Yoochun. (Jerk.)

“And he hardly ate anything. Just half a banana.” Changmin. (Bastard.)

“I’m just tired. And I have a headache.”

“You have a fever,” says Yunho. “And I am taking you home, come on.”

Protests ring out at that (What? Yunho-ssi, you can’t do that. One of the staff can take him.) but Yunho ignores them. Stands up and pulls Jaejoong with him.

“I’m okay, I can stand,” Jaejoong says, trying to pull away because he’s tired but he’s not that pathetic. Yunho raises an eyebrow and lets him go. Jaejoong promptly sways and has to grab Yunho’s shoulder to stop himself falling over. Okay, maybe his is that pathetic.

“Sure you can,” says Yunho, steadying him and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Quit being so stubborn.” Then he turns to the others. “Stay here, finish practice. Do it properly. Focus on the choreography for your individual shots. You should have them blocked out by tomorrow. Try to have the full choreo by the end of the week. Jaejoong and I can catch up later and I can work on my own choreo some at home.”

“What if he’s sick for more than just a day or two?” asks their instructor. “He doesn’t look very good.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not standing right here,” Jaejoong snaps. Tries to snap. He’s not actually sure how much of it he manages to get out and his face is pressed into Yunho’s shoulder (When did that happen? He doesn’t remember doing that. Or leaning against him this much. Or needing to hold on to him.) so it might not matter anyway. Yunho’s arm tightens around him and he’s not sure if it’s a warning or an apology. Maybe both.

“Even if he can’t dance he can still come and watch,” says Yunho calmly. And it’s so funny to Jaejoong, that Yunho can’t lie to save his life, but he can do this, make these decisions on the fly and manage to say it all like it’s a matter of course. Like no one’s going to argue with him (almost no one ever does). “That will help some. And our solo parts aren’t that long. If he’s still sick after a few days — sick enough that it’s a problem — then we’ll regroup then. Reschedule if we have to. And we can change the shooting order, do everyone else’s individual shots first, and any dramatic cuts, or shots with just the ensemble. That will buy us some time if we need it. Okay?”

Everyone nods. Of course they do. Yunho doesn’t pull the ‘leader’ voice out very often (except maybe during dance practices, because he loves to dance and really wants to make it right so he’s a bit of a slave driver then), but when he does, everyone listens. Even the managers.

“Good,” Yunho says, grinning and bobbing as much of a bow as he can to their instructor with Jaejoong still half-slumped against his side. “Take care of them well.”

He shakes Jaejoong a little, as if to rouse him. “’M not asleep,” Jaejoong grouses at him. “Are we going now?”

“Aish, you’re so difficult,” Yunho scolds, but there’s affection in his voice. “Yes, we’re going now, come on. And try to walk on your own, I’m not carrying you.”

“You would,” Jaejoong tells him as they stumble out the door and into the hallway.

“Would not,” Yunho retorts, and Jaejoong can feel him trying not to smile. “This is your own fault for not saying something sooner. If you can’t even walk I will ing drag you, just see if I don’t. I’ll take the stairs too.”

“That would for you,” Jaejoong observes, trying and not quite managing to focus on the elevator doors at the end of the hall. “Or, rather, it wouldn’t. Ever. No ever for you—”

Yunho’s free hand clamps over his mouth. “Ya! We are still in the building. Do I have to gag you?”

“Promises, promises.” Jaejoong grins. He’s not serious, of course, they’re no where near ready to even start thinking about that kind of thing (and honestly Jaejoong doesn’t think he likes the sound of it. Much prefers to hear the sounds Yunho makes. And to have his own mouth free to taste Yunho’s skin with), but he knows it will nettle Yunho and he likes that game so he says it anyway. Yunho turns the most fascinating shade of something almost purple and drags him into the elevator as fast as he can.

 

By the time they get back to the apartment, the weird giddiness is mostly gone and Jaejoong thinks he could probably walk on his own. He’s not actually positive though, because as soon as he’s out of the car, Yunho is beside him, sliding an arm around his waist again. And Jaejoong is still exhausted and his head still feels fuzzy so even though he’s not sure he needs the help (isn’t really sure he wants it) he doesn’t argue. Just closes the car door behind him and grips Yunho’s shoulder.

He doesn’t lean on him as much this time, which makes walking a lot easier, but the elevator ride up to their floor of the building more awkward somehow. Normally Jaejoong likes it when Yunho puts an arm around him — tends to love it any time Yunho touches him, really — but this seems different and he’s not sure how he feels about it. Which is weird because back in the studio when everyone tried to tell Yunho to let someone else take him home and Yunho completely ignored them, that was…that was good. He liked that. But now, standing in the elevator car with Yunho holding on to him and watching him so carefully, he’s not sure he likes this. And he’s not really sure what the difference is.

(Once or twice, he thinks he sees Yunho try to say something. Catches him watching Jaejoong in the reflection on the elevator doors like there’s something he’s thinking. Something he wants to say. And maybe Jaejoong should just ask him what it is, because this silence is so awkward, but he’s not quite sure he wants to know. The same way he’s not sure he wants Yunho’s arm holding him up. So he doesn’t ask. And Yunho doesn’t say.)

“I’m going to wash up a little,” Jaejoong says when they get into the apartment, pulling out of Yunho’s hold and toeing off his shoes.. He’s too tired to shower again, but he can at least wash his face and maybe rinse his hair. “I don’t want to be sweaty for the rest of the day.”

“Okay,” says Yunho. He’s still watching Jaejoong, like he’s worried he might fall again, but he doesn’t try to help him as they start walking again, this time towards the bathroom. “Ah, I know I’m mostly a disaster in the kitchen but even I can do some things. If I make us some ramyun will you eat it?”

“Do I get a choice?” Jaejoong mumbles, which isn’t fair of him, he knows, but he feels like and he hates being sick and he’s still not sure what he’s feeling.

Yunho shifts uncomfortably. Scratches the back of his head. “You should really eat something at some point,” he says. “You can’t get better if you don’t take care of your body. But I guess it doesn’t have to be now.”

“Good,” Jaejoong says, then winces at his own tone. Yunho’s only trying to help. “Sorry. Sorry, I just—” He breaks off. Runs a hand through his hair. Sighs.

“No, I’m sorry,” says Yunho. He reaches out, puts a hand on Jaejoong’s shoulder. (And it’s a little tentative, a little unsure, and that’s Jaejoong’s fault and why can’t he be better at this?) Jaejoong can’t quite meet Yunho’s eyes, but he steps closer and Yunho pulls him in and Jaejoong sighs. Rests his head on Yunho’s shoulder. Hugs back.

This is better. Feels right. Not like the elevator.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho says again, running a hand up Jaejoong’s back and settling it at the base of his neck. “I know you must feel terrible.”

Jaejoong doesn’t answer, just pushes a little closer, curling into Yunho. Yunho’s arms tighten around him and it’s better. It helps. Makes the misery a little more bearable. Makes him feel a little less like crawling away into a corner to die.

He’s not sure how long they stand there like that, Yunho holding him and Jaejoong just letting him, pressing his face into Yunho’s shoulder like he can somehow hide from the reality of being sick there, but he knows it’s a while. Long enough for him to relax a little. For his breathing to even out again.

“Does your head still hurt?” Yunho asks eventually. “I think we have some stuff in cabinet.”

Jaejoong shakes his head. “No, it’s not— I don’t— ” He shifts, standing up again, though not pulling away this time. Runs a hand through his hair. “I had a headache, but now — nothing hurts exactly. Just…everything feels wrong, I guess. Ugh, it’s probably that flu that’s been going around. Half the staff’s had it already. Look, you don’t have to stay; you don’t want to catch this.”

Yunho snorts. “I’ll take my chances,” he says, then brings and hand up and feels Jaejoong’s forehead again. “Will you at least drink some tea? You really do have a fever. You shouldn’t get dehydrated.”

Jaejoong smiles, a little sheepish. (A little guilty.) “Yeah, I guess even you can probably manage to make tea. And I will eat something later, I promise. Right now I just really want to get the sweat out of my hair and take a nap.”

Yunho chuckles and kisses the side of his head, then lets go. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll get us some tea and grab my laptop and some DVD’s and meet you in the bedroom.”

“Did you seriously just try to make me being sick into a date? Because I don’t think it’s going to be at all romantic or y when I fall asleep during the opening credits.”

“That’s fine, you can sleep all you want. I’ll spend some quality time with Bambi. I’ve been neglecting her lately anyway.”

Jaejoong laughs; Yunho really does love that stuffed animal of his.

“Oh, should I be jealous?” he asks, following Yunho as he starts towards the kitchen. Yunho turns back and gives him a look that Jaejoong thinks is supposed to look smug or sultry or something but mostly just looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Maybe,” he says. “But not til you’re feeling better, otherwise you’ll be too tired for me to make it up to you properly.”

Jaejoong grins, and it’s kind of adorable how Yunho can say the most embarrassing things, sometimes even in interviews or on national TV, and never have any trouble, but saying this when it’s just the two of them makes him blush all the way to his ears.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, then yawns and goes back to the bathroom. And it’s weird to feel this ty and a little stupidly happy at the same time, but it’s nice — better — and Jaejoong really is lucky because Yunho might actually be the best thing ever.

 

When Jaejoong walks into the bedroom, toweling his hair dry and feeling at least a little better for being cleaner, Yunho is already there, setting up a small folding table next to his bed, presumably for the laptop.

“Shouldn’t that be by my bed?” Jaejoong asks, confused. “Or are you really just going to sit here all day with Bambi while I snore in the corner?”

“You don’t snore,” says Yunho. “And there isn’t room by your bed so we can use mine.”

“But I’m going to sleep,” Jaejoong reminds him.

“I know.”

“I’m not taking your bed.”

Yunho blinks, looks up from setting up the laptop. “Because you don’t like my bed or because someone might think something weird?”

Neither, actually, although Jaejoong supposes that second one is a good reason too.

“I have nothing against your bed,” he says. (Of course he has nothing against Yunho’s bed; it smells like Yunho.) “But if I take yours where are you going to sleep?”

Yunho shrugs. “I can use yours. You should probably be on this side of the room anyway; it gets cold over there with the window and the air vent.”

And he’s actually serious. Jaejoong mouths wordlessly at him for a moment then gives up. “Fine,” he says, catching sight of the tea and teapot at the foot of the bed and going over to pour himself a cup. “You might want to change the sheets before you use it. I already didn’t feel good when I woke up this morning.”

There’s a tiny little table — just big enough for a lamp and a clock — between Yunho’s and Junsu’s beds. Jaejoong sets his cup of tea on it, puts the pot on the floor, then crawls into Yunho’s bed and stretches out.

“Okay.” Yunho finishes setting up the table and laptop and plugs the cord in. Then he holds up a couple of DVDs. “Do you want to pick?”

Jaejoong shakes his head. Sits up against the headboard and grabs his tea again. “I probably really will sleep through most of it. You pick. Just don’t make it too loud.”

Yunho nods, considers for a moment, then pops a disc out of the case and puts it in. Then he sits down the edge of the bed.

“Scoot forward,” he says.

“Why?”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “Just do it. You’ll see, okay?”

Jaejoong huffs, but does as he’s told, sliding forward on the bed. Yunho moves to sit behind him. Jaejoong half-expects him to try to pull Jaejoong back against his chest — which would maybe be nice, but definitely isn’t a good idea because it would be so hard to explain if anyone found them like that — but instead Yunho just puts his hands on Jaejoong’s shoulders and starts working his fingers slowly into the muscles.

Jaejoong groans and leans back, just a little, into those fingers. They all do this for each other from time to time, because their lives are stressful and require them to be really physically active and eventually you just need someone to help you get out the kinks you can’t reach, but it’s been a while since anyone gave Jaejoong a proper massage and, god, it feels good.

“I’ll keep going as long as you keep drinking, deal?” says Yunho, pressing in a little harder, his movements slow and rhythmic.

Jaejoong hums. Nods. Sips his tea. Says, “You really are the best, you know.”

Yunho’s hands freeze on him, just for a second, so quick Jaejoong isn’t even sure it happens, then he laughs and says, “No flattery. Drink your tea!”

By the time the tea is gone, Yunho’s done his shoulders, his neck, and most of his back. Jaejoong can’t even remember the last time he felt this loose and relaxed and he kind of wishes he could just lie back against Yunho’s chest to sleep because he’s pretty that actually would be really be nice and also, even with the tea and the blankets, he’s a little cold. Though that’s probably just the fever. He sighs and hands the cup to Yunho, who takes it, slides out of bed, and grabs the pot.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“Okay. I’m going to get another blanket”

Yunho looks back at him from the door. “Are you cold?”

Jaejoong nods. “I think it’s just the fever,” he says, sitting up and starting to push back the covers.

“Don’t get up,” Yunho tells him. “I’ll get it.”

“I can do it—”

“I’ll get it.”

And this is another one of those arguments Jaejoong just isn’t going to win. He lies back down. Glowers a little at Yunho, who just nods and walks out to put the teapot and cup away. He comes back shaking out one of their spare blankets. Jaejoong starts to sit up again for it, but Yunho is already spreading it out over him. Then he walks around to the other side of the bed and slides in behind him, stretching out along Jaejoong’s back and wrapping his arms around him. Jaejoong closes his eyes. Breathes. And it’s a little like earlier. Like in the elevator. And he thinks maybe he knows what that was, what this is, now.

“I’m not a girl,” he says quietly. Behind him, Yunho pulls back a little. Props himself up on one elbow and cranes over, peering at Jaejoong’s face.

“Do I need to take you to the hospital?” he asks and Jaejoong cracks an eye. Yunho looks utterly confused. “Is the fever making your brain weird?”

Jaejoong sighs. “I mean I can take care of myself. You don’t have to.”

Yunho’s face clears. “I know that,” he says. “I know you can, that’s not why. I’d want to take care of any of us who was sick.”

“Oh yeah? And if it was Junsu or Changmin who was sick, you’d have carried them home and climbed into bed with them too?”

“Well, no, I wouldn’t get into bed with them. That would be weird,” says Yunho, giving Jaejoong a strange look. “But I’d still want to get them home and make sure they were okay. Being a guy or being a girl’s got nothing to do with it. You’re someone I care about so I want to help, even if you don’t need it. If I were sick, wouldn’t you want to do the same?”

Yes. Yes, he would. If Yunho were sick, Jaejoong would absolutely want to take care of him, whether he needed taking care of or not, and he probably wouldn’t let anyone else help him, either. Would maybe actually hate it a little, if anyone else helped.

But probably he shouldn’t say that, so instead he laughs.

“No way,” he says. “If you get sick, you’re on your own. I’m already sick and it . I don’t need your germs too.”

Yunho lips twitch and then he forces them into a pout. “You wouldn’t even make me soup?”

Jaejoong reaches down to where Yunho’s arm is still around him, finds his hand, twines their fingers together.

“Well, maybe,” he says. “But I’d send Junsu to give it to you.”

Yunho laughs and lays back down, nosing into the back of Jaejoong’s head and pulling him close again.

“Ah, I guess that’s something,” he says. “Want me to wake you for dinner or let you sleep?”

“I promised I’d eat something, I suppose it may as well be with everyone else.”

“Mm, better chance of edible food that way, I suppose.”

“Oh? I thought you said you could make ramyun.”

Yunho snorts. “I can. It just takes a few tries sometimes. Go to sleep.”

“Well, stop talking then.”

“You’re so difficult.”

“Yeah,” Jaejoong agrees. “But you love me anyway.”

Yunho smiles into his hair. Pulls him a little closer.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I do.”

 

He still has a fever the next day. He knows because Yunho shakes him gently awake in the morning to tell him so, though he thinks he probably could have guessed by the way he feels; achy, and hot and cold all at once. He groans, rolls onto his back and throws an arm over his eyes.

“We have to go—” Yunho starts.

“I know, I know,” says Jaejoong. “The radio program.” It’s not a long one. Just a quick little interview to talk about the music video they’re working on a bit. Just enough to wet the fan’s appetites. They don’t even have to be dressed nice or in makeup because no one’s taking photos or filming, but still…

“You’re not going,” Yunho says.

“Yunho—”

“You’re not going,” Yunho says again, more firmly. “They don’t need all of us, not to sit there and tell them we’re making a music video that we can’t actually tell them anything about because it’s a secret. And mostly not choreographed yet. You’re going to stay here and sleep and drink this,” he places a sports drink on the folding table, “and not push yourself.”

“The managers—”

“I already asked them. It’s fine,” Yunho assures him. “Changmin’s going to stay with you.”

Jaejoong sighs. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You collapsed yesterday—”

“That was because I didn’t eat and then we danced for two hours,” Jaejoong says. “I don’t need Changmin to look after me. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, it’s him or one of the managers, because I’m not leaving you here alone for four hours,” Yunho informs him. “And since I know for sure that Changmin will actually call me if anything happens, I vote for him.”

Jaejoong half-sighs, half-growls. Yunho sounds so adamant and he’s not sure whether to be pleased or pissed. He settles for just plain tired.

“Fine,” he says. “I guess at least Changmin won’t sent the house on fire if I let him near the stove.”

Yunho smiles crookedly at him. “That’s the spirit,” he says. Then he holds out two little pills. “Here, take these. For the fever.”

Jaejoong sighs, then sits up, twists the top off the sports drink (some kind of melon flavor, he thinks, sweet, but light. Not too much.) and swallows them down. Before he can lie back down again, Yunho catches him by the back of his neck and presses a kiss into his hair.

“Try to eat something and get lots of sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stands and walks towards the door. Jaejoong yawns and settles down again. More sleep does sound like a good idea. Yunho reaches the door, turns the knob. Pauses.

“And try not to antagonize Changmin too much,” he says, looking back. “He really is worried about you, too.”

Jaejoong flaps a hand at him.

“I’ll try,” he says on another yawn. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

 

It’s not that hard, it turns out. Jaejoong sleeps for most of the morning, getting up only when he finally has to pee too much to stay in bed any longer. He washes his hands, then wraps himself up in a blanket and stumbles out to the living room. Changmin is on the floor, watching TV and playing Go against himself, but he looks up when Jaejoong enters.

“Ah, you’re up,” he says. “I was going to come get you in a bit. Yunho said you should take more medicine by now.”

He springs to his feet and starts for the kitchen. Jaejoong trails along behind him, spots the pill bottle on the counter as Changmin grabs it.

“Left you instructions, did he?” Jaejoong says, and he’s not sure if he’s teasing Changmin or Yunho but it doesn’t really matter; the concern is still both sweet and annoying in either case. He gets himself a cup and some water from the tap.

Changmin shoots him a slightly reproachful look as he shakes out two pills.

“Just to give you these around ten and call him if anything happened,” he says, holding out the pills. Jaejoong takes them. Places them on his tongue. Swallows.

“He also said you should eat something. The others will be back soon, anyway. I know I’m not you but I could make something simple for all of us.”

Jaejoong nods and drinks the rest of his water. “That’s what I told Yunho,” he says, putting his glass in the sink and heading for the couch.

“Really?” Changmin looks surprised.

“Yeah. Junsu’s set the stove on fire three times since we moved in, you know. It wasn’t even that long ago.” He sits. Decides that’s still too much effort and lies down.

“Yeah, we should really teach him how to not do that, at least,” says Changmin, and his voice is a little uncertain. And also strangely close. Jaejoong opens his eyes to find the maknae crouched down before him, eyeing him critically. “Hyung, are you sure you’re okay?”

Jaejoong blinks, then smiles a little. Reaches out and pats Changmin on the head.

“You’re a good maknae,” he says to Changmin’s startled face. “I’m fine. I even walked by myself. Go make some lunch, I’m sure everyone would like coming home to something to eat.”

Changmin ducks his head, embarrassed, and scurries off. Jaejoong closes his eyes again. Dozes off.

It’s Yoochun who shakes him awake this time, bright-eyed and smiling, which is a nice, if slightly incongruous, sight after everyone else’s concern.

“You’re back,” he says, moving to sit up. He has to do it slowly; his body is stiff. Maybe sleeping on the couch wasn’t such a good idea.

“Yeah,” says Yoochun. “Come on, Changmin has lunch on the table. It smells pretty good.”

Jaejoong blinks and tries to shake the sleep from his head. It doesn’t really work but he shucks the blanket anyway. Yoochun gives him a hand up and they go to the table. It does smell pretty good, even to Jaejoong, who’s still not really hungry, though he knows he needs to eat. Junsu and Changmin are already there, sitting down and stuffing their faces.

“Where’s Yunho?” he asks, looking around for him. “Didn’t he come back with you?” Because he should be back. Everyone else is back. And he promised. He promised he’d come back quickly.

“He’s outside arguing with the managers,” says Yoochun, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and a bowl of rice. “They’re trying to go back on the agreement that if he went to the interview he could stay with you for the rest of the day. They keep saying one of them can stay with you, but Yunho’s not having any of it.”

“Does it count as an agreement?” asks Junsu, frowning. “Hyung didn’t really ask them. He just said it and then we all left. I thought they’d argue with him about it in the car — he can’t keep skipping schedules —”

“He wasn’t skipping,” Changmin interrupts. “Jaejoong-hyung was sick. It’s not as if Yunho just didn’t go.”

“Whatever, he still can’t afford to miss things. But the managers didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well,” says Yoochun, “they probably didn’t want to make him angry until after the interview.”

Jaejoong shoots him a look. So does Changmin.

“Yunho-hyung would never do anything to hurt TVXQ,” the maknae says loyally, “no matter how mad the managers or the company made him.”

Yoochun snorts. “Of course not. But they don’t know that. Besides, there’s nothing to stop him going on air and saying how after the program he’s going back to take care of his Jaejoongie, who’s sick and had to stay home. The fans eat that kind of thing up. If he said that and they ever found out he hadn’t it would be bad. It would either look like he’d lied, which would hurt his image, or they’d know the company hadn’t let him, which is bad for the company’s image.”

Changmin looks scandalized. “Hyung!”

Jaejoong sighs. “Don’t yell,” he tells the maknae. “I still have a headache. Yoochun, don’t be so cynical. Yunho doesn’t do things like that.”

“Not usually, he doesn’t, but he can when he really wants to,” Yoochun counters.

“Hyung!”

Jaejoong thinks Changmin might actually be louder this time and he groans, pressing a hand to his head.

“Changmin-ah,” he starts.

“Aish, so much noise!” Yunho. Thank god. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” says Yoochun. “Changmin’s being stubborn.”

“No I’m not,” Changmin argues back, “you’re the one who—”

Jaejoong claps a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you ever shut up? Ugh, I’m going back to bed.”

He stands and Yoochun moves to let him out. Yunho frowns at him.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” he asks.

“No, but I’m not really that hungry. And it’s too loud out here.”

Yunho catches his arm as he walks past, stopping him. Jaejoong doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him. Yunho sighs.

“Alright,” he says. “Go, I’ll bring you something in a minute.”

Jaejoong nods. Goes back to the bedroom, shuts the door and crawls back into Yunho’s bed. It still smells like Yunho, which is nice and Jaejoong curls up and buries his face in the pillow, just breathing in his scent and wishing that being sick didn’t turn him into such an emotional weathervane, going from petting Changmin’s hair one moment to snapping at him the next. Of course, Changmin should have listened the first time he told him to be quiet.

It’s a few minutes before Yunho comes in, bowl and chopsticks in hand.

“Changmin says to tell you he’s sorry,” he says, coming and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He wanted to come tell you himself, but I thought maybe it wasn’t a good idea. You two are so used to bickering with each other these days.”

“We were actually doing pretty well before,” Jaejoong says, sitting up and taking the bowl from him. “I wasn’t even a little antagonizing. But then I got stiff sleeping on the couch and everyone was being so loud.”

“Does your head still hurt?” asks Yunho, frowning. “Should headaches last that long?”

Jaejoong shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s not exactly a headache, just…I feel like…like there’s sheep in my head.”

Yunho stares at him. “Sheep?”

Jaejoong nods. “You know,” he says. Tries to explain. “All, all poofy and…and fuzzy.”

“Ah, like sheep’s wool.” Yunho nods, looking relieved at having an at least relatively sane explanation. “Okay, I see.”

Jaejoong nods and takes a bite of his food. It doesn’t seem to taste like much and he’s pretty sure it’s not because it needs more spices. He sighs and keeps eating.

“How did the interview go?” he asks, hoping Yunho will be able to distract him at least.

“Pretty good, really. They asked about the music video and we all dropped some appropriately vague hints and cryptic non-answers. They talked about us working hard and doing well, and everyone fussed over you being sick and praised Changmin for being such a good dongsaeng to look after his hyung. Yoochun said weird things to Junsu and Junsu didn’t get it. The usual.”

Jaejoong laughs a little. “I keep waiting for him to get it, you know, but it never seems to happen.”

“Ah, I’m not sure if it’s that he doesn’t get it,” says Yunho slowly. “Sometimes I think maybe he just doesn’t understand why.”

“I guess.” Jaejoong puts down his chopsticks. He’s only eaten about half of what Yunho brought him, but he doesn’t think he can finish the rest.

“Well, at least he’s not as bad as Changmin,” says Yunho.

“Only because Changmin doesn’t care,” says Jaejoong, handing the bowl and chopsticks back. Yunho glances down and then raises an eyebrow at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Everything else already feels wrong, I don’t need a stomach ache, too.”

Yunho sighs. “Well, I guess you ate something, at least.” He stands up. “I’ll be right back. Or…or do you want to sleep more?”

“I don’t know,” says Jaejoong, running a hand through his hair and leaning back against the headboard. “I already slept most of the morning. Now I just feel gross, but I think more sleeping might make it worse. Either way, though, it’s not like I can’t sleep with you here.”

Yunho smiles at that. “Alright,” he says. “I need to get the others out; they all still have schedules, and then…” He shrugs. “Then you can sleep or we can find something to do. Whatever you decide.”

As Yunho shuts the door behind him, Jaejoong wonders if it’s selfish to kind of hope that that something ends up involving Yunho giving him another massage. Probably. He closes his eyes. When he opens them again, Yunho is back, lying sprawled out on Yoochun’s bed across from him and reading a book.

“What are you doing?”

Yunho head snaps up, eyes focusing on Jaejoong with surprising intensity before a half-second later he relaxes.

“You fell asleep again,” he says. “I’ve been reading.”

“You could have woken me. How long was I asleep?”

“Over an hour,” says Yunho, marking his page and getting up. “And I figured if you fell asleep that fast, you probably needed it.” He comes over to sit on the edge of the bed again. “How do you feel?”

“I think worse, actually,” Jaejoong says, rubbing his eyes and then shifting his shoulders experimentally. “I need to stop falling asleep in weird positions. It’s not helping.”

Yunho puts a hand to his forehead and purses his lips. “I think your fever’s back up. Did Changmin remember to make you take more medicine?”

“Yeah, he did.” Jaejoong closes his eyes and leans into that hand, a single point of not-so-bad amongst everything else. His mouth feels dry and he thinks even his hair might ache.

“Did you drink anything?”

“I didn’t do anything all morning except sleep,” Jaejoong reminds him. Yunho pulls his hand away and reaches past him to the little table. Grabs the sports drink he left there that morning.

“Here, finish this,” he says, pushing the bottle into Jaejoong’s hands. “You’re probably dehydrated.”

Jaejoong sighs and twists the top off. Probably Yunho’s right. And the sports drink is a good idea anyway; with as little as he’s eaten in the last day and a half, he probably needs the electrolytes.

“I tried to think of things for us to do that are quiet,” Yunho says, standing and stretching as Jaejoong downs half the bottle, “but all I could really come up with is movies or chess.”

Jaejoong puts the bottle back on the table and rubs his head. “I’m not sure I’m really up for chess,” he says, pushing back the covers and moving to stand up. And then sits right back down again, gripping the edge of bed hard, fighting to stay upright as the world yaws horrifyingly away from him.

“Ah, I guess it’s movies then,” Yunho is saying, but he stops the second he realizes something’s wrong, crouching down on the bed beside him. Jaejoong’s eyes are closed again but he can feel Yunho’s hands fluttering around him, trying to figure out what to do, where to touch.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Dizzy,” Jaejoong says, concentrating on breathing deep and steady, trying to will the sensation away.

“Are you going to throw up?”

“No.” He’s almost sure of that, though if the dizziness doesn’t go away soon he’ll be less sure. “But I need to pee.”

“Can you walk?” Yunho asks.

“I can’t even stand. How am I supposed to walk?” Jaejoong snaps, then winces. And it’s just like yesterday, Yunho only trying to help and him miserable and lashing out and, god, he hates this. Before he can apologize, though, Yunho starts to laugh.

“Aish, you’re so difficult,” he says, standing and reaching down to pull Jaejoong up with him. “Honestly, I should just let the managers have to deal with you for a day; they wouldn’t keep trying to talk me out of it then.”

He wraps an arm around Jaejoong’s waist and pulls his arm over his shoulders. And Jaejoong might absolutely hate feeling this pathetic, but he needs to pee more.

“Yoochun said you were fighting with them about that,” he says as they make their way to the bathroom, because no matter how bad this is, not talking would just make it worse.

“Yoochun talks too much,” Yunho grumbles, not meeting Jaejoong’s eyes. “It wasn’t a fight. They just needed to be convinced, that’s all. Can you—?”

“I can pee by myself, yes,” Jaejoong says, feeling utterly humiliated just for the veracity of the question.

“Okay,” says Yunho, letting him go without argument. “I’ll wait right here, so just yell if you need anything.”

Jaejoong nods and closes the door. And the world is still a little tippy, still not quite stable beneath his feet, so he has to lean against the door, and then the wall, but at least it’s not so bad that he has to try to pee sitting down. When he opens the door again, Yunho is sitting on the floor, waiting and there’s a glimmer in his eye like he’s about to make a joke but it dies the second he sees Jaejoong’s face. In an instant he’s up on his feet and sliding back into place at Jaejoong’s side.

“You look like a ghost,” he says, pushing Jaejoong’s hair out of his face with his free hand and peering at him. “A sick ghost. I think there are corpses with better color than you. If you’re still this bad tomorrow I’m taking you to the hospital. Or having a doctor come here. One or the other.”

“That’s not fair,” Jaejoong protests, gripping Yunho’s shoulder and concentrating on keeping his feet underneath him as they start back to the bedroom. “I always get pale when I’m sick.”

“Do you always get so dizzy you can’t walk, too?” Yunho says as he deposits Jaejoong back on his bed. And he sounds a little angry. Like he’s almost scolding. “Because I’ve seen you sick before and I certainly don’t remember you having trouble walking or standing.”

Jaejoong can’t hold his eyes. Looks away. Glares fiercely at the corner of the table with the laptop on it, still sitting by the bed.

“Fine,” he says, and his voice cracks. “Fine, whatever. I don’t care. Leave me alone, I want to sleep now.”

“Jae—”

“Get out.” And he can feel it. Can feel the trembling starting. The exhaustion and the misery and the embarrassment all crushing in on him and he has to get Yunho out of here before he starts crying. Or shouting. Or maybe both. “I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

And he still isn’t looking at Yunho, so he can’t see his face, but he can feel it. Can feel him hesitating, looking for something to say. Jaejoong holds his breath. Waits. Because he can’t ask, he can’t, but—

Yunho sighs. “Alright,” he says quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

Yes. (No.)

“I won’t be far, so if you need anything, just call my name.”

He leaves. (Jaejoong told him to. But he didn’t mean it.) Jaejoong sits on the side of the bed and pulls his knees up to his chest. Fists his fingers in his own hair. Presses his mouth against one knee. At least he can have this breakdown silently.

The door creaks open. “Ah, sorry, you left this on the couch, I thought you might want—”

Jaejoong looks up, surprised. And then looks away. But not quickly enough. Yunho breaks off. Jaejoong screws his eyes shut. Wants to swipe the tears from his face but that would mean admitting that they’re there. And if he pretends hard enough, if he shuts his eyes tight enough and keeps his face to wall and doesn’t say anything, Yunho might pretend he hasn’t seen either. (And this is stupid, it’s so stupid. Because that’s not what he wants. Except it is. Except it’s not. He wants him to go and he wants him to stay and he wants to be home or to not be sick or—)

The mattress dips. A hand touches his shoulder. Jaejoong freezes, caught between two instincts. Two desires. Yunho doesn’t say anything. The hand moves, slides across his back, followed by an arm which settles around his shoulders. Jaejoong hesitates a second, two, then whips around. His fingers seize in the front of Yunho’s shirt and he tucks his head there, choking on a sound that might be a whimper. Or maybe a sob.

Yunho gathers him up, wrapping first his other arm around him and then, after some minor shifting, one leg, too, curling around Jaejoong and pressing his lips into his hair while Jaejoong fights his body for control.

“I hate this,” he says, whispers, when he can finally speak around the thing pressing at his throat. “I hate being sick and being stuck in bed and not being able to walk and I’m so tired even though all I’ve done all day is sleep, and you’re going to end up sick too and that’s going to be my fault and I hate that too.”

“I know,” Yunho murmurs into his hair, hugging him a little tighter. “I know. And I hate that there’s nothing I can do.”

“I just — I feel so pathetic.”

Yunho actually huffs out something that might be laughter at that.

“You’re so sick you can’t even walk — can barely even stand — and you’re still the stubbornest person I know,” he says. “I don’t think ‘pathetic’ is the word. Crazy, maybe, but definitely not pathetic.”

Jaejoong shifts slightly. Sniffs. Rubs his face in Yunho’s chest.

“You’re not useless,” he says, voice still a little wet-sounding, but stronger now. Less like he might start crying again at any second. “You’re here. It’s something.

Yunho sighs. “Well, I wish I could do more.”

“It’s not your fault my immune system decided to around instead of doing its job,” Jaejoong tells him. “I mean, unless it is.” He squints up at Yunho suspiciously. “Ah, did you throw it a party and distract it?”

Yunho stares at him, then starts to laugh for real. “Where do you come up with these things?” he asks, shaking his head, and now Jaejoong is laughing too. “Seriously, if I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d be worried. I’d think maybe the fever had gotten into your brain or something.”

Jaejoong hums and snuggles back into Yunho’s chest before he realizes what he’s doing. And then kind of can’t bring himself to be embarrassed about it. Especially not when Yunho just hugs him back and rubs his nose in Jaejoong’s hair.

“Aish, you talk like I say weird things all the time,” he says. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” Yunho tells him, grinning into his hair. “I mean, not all the time, but some days, yes. You totally are. Anyone who didn’t know you would think you’d escaped from a little padded white room.”

“How padded? Is the whole room like a giant bed? Because that could be okay. Especially if you were with me. Would you be? Would you stay with me in the padded room or — no, no you must be how I escaped. But I guess if you got me out then you must visit so maybe that counts.”

“Oh yeah. You never say weird things. Not at all.” Yunho sighs and kisses the top of his head. Which is embarrassing, so Jaejoong shoves at him a little. “Look, probably part of the problem you’re having with walking is that you still haven’t really eaten anything all day. Or yesterday. If I make ramyun now, will you eat it?”

And despite still being a little light-headed, this is probably the best Jaejoong’s felt all day. So he nods. “I guess,” he says. “But if we’re going to the kitchen then I want that blanket.”

“We?” Yunho repeats, raising an eyebrow at him.

Jaejoong nods. “We. I want to watch and make sure you don’t do anything horrible to my kitchen.”

“Jaejoong—”

“Also, if you leave me here I’ll probably just fall asleep again and then you won’t want to wake me up and I won’t eat and the ramyun will get cold and I’ll still be dizzy and feel like . So I’m coming with you.”

Yunho puffs out his cheeks. Lets the air escape in one fast huff. Shakes his head. Grabs the blanket he brought back and wraps Jaejoong up in it.

“Stubbornest. Person. Ever,” he says. Then, before Jaejoong can protest, he reaches down and picks him right up.

“Yunho!”

“Don’t distract me,” Yunho warns him. “I might drop you. , you’re heavy for someone as skinny as you.”

“Then put me down! God, you’re so embarrassing.”

“I’m embarrassing? After all the things you’ve said during interviews I don’t think you get to call me embarrassing.”

Yunho kicks a chair out from the table and sets Jaejoong in it. Jaejoong huffs and pulls the blanket more securely around himself, pretending to be offended.

“That’s fanservice,” he says primly. “And you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

“Ya, shut up. I’ll hold the kitchen hostage. I’ll bend all the pans and break half the lids. Don’t make me do it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll put ramyun inside the rice cooker, just to see what happens.”

“And you say I’m the crazy one.”

They banter back and forth as Yunho cooks, pausing occasionally for Jaejoong to give instructions or request ingredients. Ramyun doesn’t take long to make, and soon the room is filled with the smell of noodles and beef broth and Jaejoong actually feels hungry. While the ramyun cools, Yunho scoops him back up, carries him back to the bedroom and dumps him back on the bed. (And how he manages to be both gentle and completely unceremonious about it, Jaejoong will never understand but he does and it kind of matches the banter and it’s sweet that even when they’re playing, picking at each other for fun, Yunho is still careful of him.)

Yunho brings him a bowl of ramyun and some chopsticks, then sets the laptop at the foot of the bed, pops in a disc, then settles himself on the bed behind Jaejoong, leaning against the headboard and pulling Jaejoong back against his chest, keeping him awake and chiding him into eating the whole bowl. When he’s finished, Yunho puts the bowl aside, then starts working his fingers through Jaejoong’s hair, half playing with it, half sort of massaging his scalp.

Jaejoong hums contentedly. “I’m going to fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay,” says Yunho, digging his fingers in a little harder.

“The other’s will be back at some point,” Jaejoong reminds him, though, honestly, he’s not really bothered by that fact just now. (Isn’t bothered by much of anything just now, actually. God, those fingers feel good.)

“Not for a few hours,” says Yunho. “The earliest anyone would come back is just before dance practice to try to switch with me. Probably Junsu, and he’s not exactly quiet when he comes in.”

“Mm, you should probably go,” Jaejoong tells him. “It’s bad enough that I’m missing schedules, you shouldn’t as well.”

“I told you, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You left me with Changmin earlier and nothing disastrous happened,” says Jaejoong reasonably. “You can switch with Junsu for a few hours to do the choreo. Besides, I do feel a little better. It’d be fine.”

And that might win the prize for understatement of the day, because he doesn’t just feel a little better. He feels a lot better. Still tired, and still fevery, but the weird headache-not-headache is gone and despite everything he thinks he might actually be happy right now.

“We’ll see,” says Yunho, changing the rhythm of his fingers, slowing down a little. Running his thumbs along the muscles at the nape of Jaejoong’s neck. “Sleep. I’ll wake you before anyone comes home. You can drink more and finish the ramyun — there’s still some left — and take more medicine. Maybe we can play chess.”

Jaejoong hums. Curls a hand around Yunho’s ankle. Closes his eyes. Sleeps.