It takes more than a tube of ointment and green cartoon bandages this time. HJ/YD.

If Kang Yeon Doo was the most stubborn person alive, then he must be the most persistent.

Odd that, because while he can be passionate about some things, usually Ha Joon spoils her and lets her do whatever she wants, but not in this particular case. Concern overrode his indulgence, and Ha Joon was determined to have his way.

“Open.”

Ha Joon tempered his voice to sound less harsh, but he was quickly getting frustrated at the whole situation.

Yeon Doo—petite, pale, and frail Yeon Doo, was glaring at him through bloodshot eyes. Her lips were pressed firmly in defiance.

Ha Joon was trying, he really was. He had a lot of experience with first aid, usually practiced on himself, but he had not a single clue what to do with a patient who was in need of more comfort care than medical care.

Yeol got sick sometimes of course. Whenever he was too ill to get out of bed, Ha Joon would bring him food and more blankets if he got too cold—that was the extent of what he did. Yeol was self-sufficient and while he was his best friend, he was still... you know... a guy. Men don't tuck each other into bed and spoon-feed them chicken soup.

Yeon Doo was not Yeol. Yeon Doo was a girl and not just any girl—but his girlfriend. So if Ha Joon needed to get out of his comfort zone and tuck his girl in, spoon-feeding her while wiping the cold sweat on her forehead, he would do it in an instant without complaints.

Now, if only Yeon Doo would just cooperate with him a little bit.

“Stop being difficult. It's just cough syrup.”

Yeon Doo placed a hand over to talk, “No! It's disgusting!”

“I don't care!” He snapped, patience thinning. “You need to take it to get better.”

“I don't need that! I'll be fine!”

As if on cue,Yeon Doo errupted into a hacking cough. Ha Joon made a noise that was somewhere between distress and annoyance.

“You are coughing your lungs out every few minutes. You are not fine. Please take the medicine.”

He had resorted to pleading. That's how much he wanted to shove that spoon into and get the whole thing over with.

“I don't want to, Ha Joonie,” Yeon Doo leaned back tiredly against her pillow. Whatever energy that she had a while ago was completely sapped—she just wanted to close her eyes, curl under her Mashimaro comforter, and sleep forever.

“Take it just this once,” Ha Joon lied blantantly, knowing that she was drifting off but he wasn't going to allow her to sleep yet without taking her medication.

Yeon Doo whined, turning her face away.

“Have it your way,” he said sternly, dumping the spoon into an empty bowl. The clanging sound of the spoon against the ceramic bowl made Yeon Doo turn her face back around curiously, and Ha Joon took that chance to catch her face in his hands, before leaning in and giving her a long, deep kiss.

Her lips felt like hot iron against his own, as if branding him as hers forever. She was hot all over, but it wasn't the kind of suffocating heat he had expected—rather it was a pleasant warmth that was slowly creeping up and enveloping him as a cup of hot chocolate would on a winter night.

He only released her when he remembered that they both still needed to breathe.

Yeon Doo's pink face, already flushed with fever, had become a deep, rosy red. Ha Joon himself was struggling a little to keep his heartrate and breathing in check.

“... what was that?” Yeon Doo asked quietly after a moment.

“What did you think?” He countered back. 

It was the wrong answer.

In a second, Yeon Doo suddenly gained the strength of a hundred elephants, because she had shot out of bed and tackled him back into the armchair he was sitting on. Straddling him, she had grabbed a half-empty plastic water bottle and was repeatedly hitting him in the arm with it.

“STUPID STUPID STUPID!” She shrieked, her voice coarse and rough but still loud. “What were you thinking? You could get sick!”

“That's exactly my point!” Ha Joon shot back, wincing everytime the bottle made contact with his bicep. Even sick, Yeon Doo was insanely strong.

“What are you talking about, idiot?” Yeon Doo demanded, temporarily stopping her assault.

“For as long as you're sick, I'm gonna keep kissing you. The only way to make me not sick by kissing you is if you get better. And for you to get better...” Ha Joon looked pointedly at the bottle of cough syrup on the nightstand.

Yeon Doo's jaw dropped in disbelief. “You can't be serious--”

“I am.” Ha Joon interjected, and to prove his words, tilted his head up to kiss her again. Yeon Doo allowed herself only a moment to kiss him back before she pulled away and whacked his arm with the plastic bottle again.

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You're a masochist!” Yeon Doo pointed accusingly.

“And you're not a sadist,” Ha Joon pointed out smugly, “You don't want to get me sick, do you?”

Yeon Doo narrowed her eyes angrily. No, of course she doesn't.

“FINE! I'll take the disgusting medicine! BUT--!”

Ha Joon's victorious smile froze in place. Yeon Doo had that wicked gleam in her eyes that usually meant trouble for him.

“If I have to take it, you do too—ah ah ah,” she wiggled a finger in front of him teasingly when Ha Joon opened his mouth to protest.

“You kissed me just now, you could've been infected already! Prevention is the best cure, Seo Ha Joon-ssi.” Yeon Doo grinned, happily noting his growing look of horror.

And because Ha Joon had already exposed himself to the virus, Yeon Doo kissed him again, soundlessly and senselessly until she too, remembered that they both still needed to breathe.

.

Word Count: 1000

My mind is still wrapped up in assignments and upcoming midterms, but you guys deserve an update. Especially you HaYeon shippers! I know your heart has sunk like the titanic after tonight's episode. I'm sinking right along with you. Youuu areeee not aloooonnne! I am here with yooouuuuu~