OnHo one shot fluff.

Onew sighed, leaning against the wall and brushing his hair away from his forehead. He was a little sweaty, but that was alright. He was okay. He was.

He sighed, hoping the performance would last just a little bit longer, so he could regain composure. He was so tired he felt like he wold pass out at any point. Despite how pathetic of him it was...

"Onew-hyung?" Onew nearly started at the voice of the other boy, and turned around, swallowing hard and his dry lips.

He hated being an MC, and it was embarrassing that Minho was a better one than him at it. And now, for Minho to see him like this...

"Hey, Minho." He still sounded somewhat out of breath, and he wondered if he looked as flushed, as pale and as lightheaded as he felt. 

"We have to get back on stage soon," Minho said slowly, frowning as he looked at Onew concernedly. "You don't look too good."

Onew shook his head, and then regretted it immediately, the sudden movement making the room spin slightly. 

He quickly grabbed his head, wondering why he felt so god damn dizzy, and looked up to see Minho's wide eyes as he took a step towards Onew.

"I'm-I'm fine," Onew rasped, letting go of his head and clearing his throat, trying to focus his gaze on Minho. 

He felt like he was about to break out in sweat, he should've just stayed home if he was going to just come and it up.

"Onew-hyung?" Minho started softly, and Onew leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. He heard Minho's soft footsteps and then Minho's cool hand pressed against his forehead, soothingly.

"Hey, you're burning up." Minho muttered, and Onew mumbled something under his breath, vision getting slightly blurry before he closed his eyes and continued trying to even his breathing.

"I'm okay," Onew gasped, not feeling enough strength to open up his eyes.

How sad was it that the boy younger than him, in the own band he was the leader of, was more composed in such a situation where he even had a heavier load.

"No, you're not okay, hyung. You need to sit down, come-" Minho took his hand but Onew pulled back, forcing his eyes open and to focus on the blurry boy. 

"I can do this," Onew pushed himself off the wall only to stagger forwards, and Minho quickly caught him, grabbing his arms.

"Yah, what do you think you're doing?" Minho raised his voice a little, tightening his grips and Onew realized that Minho looked angry. 

"I have to...I..." Onew felt the world spinning once more, darkness tugging at the corners of his vision, and groaned as the headache came back, full force. 

"Come," Minho pulled him somewhere, an arm around his waist supporting him, and Onew let him because god damn it, he was tired.

He heard the door open and opened his bleary eyes, not remembering when he'd let them fall shut, and found that they were in one of the dressing rooms. Minho pulled him to a couch and set him down, and Onew let him fall sideways, his feet still on the floor. Minho picked up his legs gently and set them so that Onew was lying on the couch.

"I'm going to go tell-"

The words left Onew's lips before they cold even register in his mind, and he reached out aimlessly,

"Don't go."

At the silence following his words, Onew wondered if he even said what he had out loud.

He heard a small thump and a soft hand took his. Onew opened the eyes he wasn't aware had fallen shut once more, and saw Minho on his knees next to the couch, holding his hand, a frown on his face.

"Why'd you push yourself so much if you had a fever?" Minho muttered, more so to himself, and Onew closed his eyes, sighing a little. 

"Hafta." Onew let Minho caress his hand, and felt at peace, glad that he could finally relax. The room was chilly, but it was alright, because he didn't have to stand anymore. 

"You don't have to push your limits, Onew-hyung," Minho said softly, and Onew grunted, not wanting to open his eyes and see the other boy's expression. 

A hand was suddenly in his hair, sweeping his locks away from his face, and ruffling his hair gently, much like Onew often did with Taemin, but it was done so gently that Onew didn't even care. 

"Sleep, okay? I'll grab you a blanket. It'll be okay, neh?" Minho's voice was so soothing to Onew's ears, relaxing the tension that had been warping his mind for days now. 

"Stay," Onew mumbled, and as much as he did desire a blanket, he'd rather Minho's presence. 

Minho said nothing and Onew heard, in the distance, cheering and applause, signalling that the performance was done. The audience needed their MCs...

"Okay, I'll stay, hyung. I'll stay until you're okay." The hand in his hair fluffed his hair a little, in a caring manner, and the other hand tightened on his own. 

"Sorry," Onew mumbled, in his sick haze, and Minho let out a soft laugh.

"Don't apologize for trying your hardest. That's what makes you our shining leader, neh?"

Onew didn't bother replying, letting sleep tug at his consciousness. 

The last thing he felt was Minho's soft cool hand brushing the side of his face, slipping down from his hair, and he heard Minho whisper,

"You're okay, I've got you, hyung." 

As sleep took over his senses, Onew was overwhelmed with a sense of comfort he hadn't felt in ages. 

Minho had him, Minho made him okay - and Onew no longer had to try so hard, because he was okay. 

Minho made it okay to simply be himself. 

Even if that meant being inadequate.