“So what you’re saying is… I have to go check on Chanyeol?” Kris asks, a single golden eyebrow raising up high on his face. His eyes portray his confusion easily, despite the normal ferocity of his usual expression, and follow a short brunette as he twirls about the room.

“For the fifth time Kris, yes. You absolutely have to check up on Channie.” The shorter says this with exasperation his voice as he runs his hands through his massive closet, looking for a shirt. “I don’t know what the big deal is! All you have to do is stop by his place, ask him if he’s still alive, then leave. I do it all the time!”

Kris grimaced,  “Yeah, you do it all the time, Baekhyun. Not me.”

Father Winter has not been the nicest to the boys this year; a great majority of their dozen has come down with some sort of nasty virus. A nose dribbling, hacking-and-coughing, stay-in-the-bed-all-day monster, that’s what it is. Thankfully (or rather, not so thankfully), a few of them were able to get over it pretty quickly, or not catch it at all. Kris is included in this group of blessed individuals. However, the non-sick of their little troupe decided it was their duty, their job to keep tabs on the sickies. This was something that didn’t sit well with Kris; not so much that he’s a jerk, it’s just… well…

“‘Mothering is not my style’, is that it?”, Baekhyun remarks with his torso halfway lost inside the closet. “Honestly Kris, I don’t know why you even bother to keep up with that ‘cool guy’ charade. It’s so annoying”

Kris looks at him affrontedly, “Charade? I’m not--”

“‘I’m not putting up any charade!’”, the shorter says in a mock deep voice. “Newsflash Wu, you are. We’ve been roommates for how long now? I’m pretty sure I know what you act like for real.”

The brunette finally yanks out a black sequined shirt and pairs it off with the matching Vans shoes, meanwhile Kris settles for glaring at the other, unable to come up with a proper comeback. Baekhyun falls into a faux leather jacket and runs his fingers through his hair before turning to Kris with his hands on his hips.

“How do I look?” he asks.

Kris responds, “Like a Grade A douchebag.”

“Awesome.” Baekhyun grabs for his keys and phone, and starts toward the door until Kris finally stands up from the sofa with all of his six foot, two inches glory.

“Seriously, Baek. Do… do I have to go?”

“Yes.” he says, affirmatively. “I have a thing I have to go to. If I could go check on the the giant, I would do it in a heart beat! But I can’t. So you have to.” Baekhyun looks Kris straight in the eye when he has one foot out of the door, but then pauses. Kris’s lips have thinned into a barely visible line, and he’s holding on to his arms at the elbows. The brunette sighs.

“Look. I really need you to do this for me, Kris. I’m worried enough about him as it is. At least when you’re there with him, I know I don’t have to worry about him spontaneously dying or anything. So please?”

It’s the blonde’s turn to sigh now. “.... Fine.”

Baekhyun’s smile twinkles with relief as he slides out of the dorm.

- -

When Kris arrives at Chanyeol’s room a building and a half away, the blonde is so cold that he thinks his hands will need to be surgically removed from his pockets. Why in the hell the other tower’s room has to be so far away from the other’s is beyond him, and why the other refused to stay with any one of the other boys was as well. Many of them had plenty of room in their dorms, so why they had to make things difficult was just frustrating and ridiculous and time consuming and ugh.

Kris, too cold still to move his hands, kicks the door a few times to signal his arrival.

“Yah, Park Chanyeol? You dead yet?”

For a few moments, the blonde is met with silence, but then hears the loud, clumsy sounds of feet and legs and arms, and just general body parts moving towards the door like a big dog on wood floors.  The door opens with a jerk, then slowly swings out and reveals its tall, messy auburn haired tenant. His eyes are almost non-existent and face comically twisted thanks to the bright light of the halls making him squint.

“Kr...is? What’re you doing here?” he asks, clearly puzzled.

“I’m here to make sure that you don’t choke on your own phlegm”, he says with a shrug. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

Chanyeol’s eyes, though crusty with sleep and sickness, seem to brighten as that “teeth rich” mouth of his turns up into a brilliant smile.

“I’m feeling better. I--”, Chanyeol begins, but descends into a coughing fit, something nasty and wet rattling in his throat. Kris backs away from the other, moving himself from the line of fire. When Chanyeol gathers himself a little bit, Kris nods his head in the direction of the kitchenette just beyond the door.

“You take your meds yet?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “Baekhyun usually comes and makes me take them.”

Of course. Baekhyun does everything for the big dope, administering antibiotics isn’t too much of a stretch. Well, that’s not what Kris is here for. He’s here to tell him to takes his meds, get sleep and not die, not baby him like a second mom. Or, at least that’s what he tells himself right before something inside him draws him into the sick bay that is the other’s room with a sigh. He pushes past lightly, Chanyeol obediently following him like a shadow. Kris kicks his shoes off at the front door, and ditches the jacket once he reaches the living space before finally gliding to a halt in the kitchen. He digs through a Kaiser Permanente paper bag labeled ‘TAKE THESE!!!’ in bold print on a sticky note until he finds what he’s looking for: a bottle of red and white pills. He quietly gets the sick boy some water and throws a thing of instant noodles in the microwave, whilst said sick boy watches like a big, lanky child from the counter. He looks unsure of whether or not he should do whatever it was he was thinking of doing, and Kris wants no part of that.

“Go lay down, I’ll bring you your stuff.” Kris says coldly, though the gesture is anything but. Chanyeol scurries away from the counter and sits under this ratty old fur blanket, legs pressed against his chest. A short, silent moment and a few beeps later, Kris is calmly padding over to Chanyeol’s couch. Kris can tell the other’s been here for a while, the used tissues adding to the nest-like feel of the area. He tosses the bottle of pills to Chanyeol, a immediately busies himself with clearing the coffee table of sick junk.

“You’re a big boy, so you should know how to take your meds, right?” he asks snidely as he hands him the bottled water without actually looking up.

Kris still doesn’t bother to look at Chanyeol as he dumps the used tissues in a little garbage bin that has been cleverly hidden under the table (probably Baekhyun’s doing), though he can still hear the other fumbling with the cap of the pills. Kris makes a trip to the kitchen again for some disinfectant wipes (another Baekhyun added item), and when he comes back he feels eyes boring right into the side of his face. Don’t look up, man, don’t do it. Don’t…

Kris glances up as he wipes the table down and meets a pair of soft, dark eyes watching him with a small, closed-mouth, semi-delirious smile. Kris furrows his eyebrows as a defense.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just think it’s real cool that the “Duizhang” came to see me while I’m sick.” Chanyeol says this so sincerely, Kris almost feels like vomiting from the kindness behind it. But really, that wouldn’t be cool, barfing all over a sick man. And for what? Sentimentality?

“I’m only here because Baekhyun couldn’t come. He begged me to, you see?”, Kris goes back to cleaning the table with that statement.

Chanyeol hums some sort of response, but remains smiling behind his Cup of Noodles. Kris has a slight feeling that he’s mocking him, so he smacks his knees on impulse. Chanyeol must have been caught off guard because the startled jump he receives in kind for his tap almost sends the noodles flying everywhere. The auburn haired one’s mismatched eyes widen as he overzealously attempts to control the runaway noodle cup, causing Kris to snicker accidently.

“Hey! What was that for?” Chanyeol demands, puffing his cheeks like he does when bewildered.

“Love taps”, is Kris’s response, still grinning. Ah, his facade is slipping, he thinks. But he can’t really bring himself to care all that much. Maybe it’s something about the younger, goofy giant that just makes him want to act like a complete dork? Who knows.

Chanyeol tries to fake anger with him, but that goes about as well as someone trying to run on a floor covered in baby oil.

They hang out and laugh at each other for a while, cracking jokes and generally acting like idiots until Kris decides it’s time to make his leave.

“Aww, but Kris! You should stay longer!” Chanyeol objects.

Kris just shakes his head and gathers his things while Chanyeol makes to get up and walk Kris to the door.

“Ah, no.” Kris says with a hand raised. “I’ll show myself out, you just rest.”

“But Kris--”

“No, really, it’s cool. You’re sick anyways. You need to rest.” Kris says as he ruffles Chanyeol’s hair kindly before bopping him on the head lightly. Chanyeol overreacts in kind, eliciting another laugh from the elder. He quickly says his goodbyes and shows himself out of Chanyeol’s room, pausing just outside the door after he closes it.

He sighs before starting on his way back to his own dorm hall, “I guess I’ll never have my ‘cool guy’ image around you people, huh?”