Longer than it is supposed to be for this drabble collection. But eh, whatever. I make my own rules. Warning: A slice of (SUPER imaginary/ TOTAL delulu) life. Fluff ahead! (surprise surprise? ;D)

With hard work and a little help from lady luck (surprisingly, the roads were not as congested as he thought it would be and both him and his co-stars somehow succeeded in making less NGs than usual), he managed to finish filming early tonight. Eric told his young manager that he did well today and not to forget to pick him up tomorrow morning. He was half-tempted to go straight to bed after taking a shower—after all, ever since he took on the drama, having an early break was a rare occasion and he had a lot of extra sleep to catch up with.

However, there is something even more important than sleep in his mind.

That is why he crosses the basement parking lot of his apartment complex, from his building to the building where his so called best friend lives just opposite of his. He takes the elevator to his floor, punching the lock code of his apartment without hesitation—he doesn’t even know if he is home right now. He is not sure why, but there is this nagging feeling all day—telling him that he needs to see him, needs to make sure he is alright, and that was what pushed him to concentrate and work even harder than usual today.

That person’s place is almost as clean as usual, almost meticulously tidy—it is unlike his own place, where he lives in an organized chaos. It is not that messy in his opinion, who cares if the magazine stack was not perfectly arranged according to date of publication and his calendar doesn’t show the correct month? His phone can always show the date anyway. Apparently though, at least one person does care, and that guy has to nag him and nag him endlessly about it. However that night, some things are strange about that certain person’s home—his shoes are not neatly placed on the rack, carelessly left on the floor. The coffee cup is also left on the table, strange—Hyesung hates doing the dishes, but he always makes sure that he puts his cups and plates and eating utensils in the sink.

The lights are off, and Eric wonders why. It is still pretty early compared to the time Hyesung usually goes to sleep, but there is not a single sound in the apartment except for his own footsteps. Usually, Hyesung would be watching TV or playing whatever game he is currently obsessed with, singing along while listening to music or maybe cooking dinner in the kitchen—the lack of noise bothers him.

“Hyesungie?” Eric calls his name, but nobody answers. But isn’t Hyesung at home? The shoes indicate so, but why isn’t he answering? Hyesung would usually scold him if he comes without notice, fussing that he should have told him so he could tidy up or something—not that Eric cares, even if Hyesung wears rag and rolls around in dirt he would still think that he is the most gorgeous man on earth anyway.

Eric opens the door to the bedroom gently, and there he is on his bed—sleeping, tightly bundled under the covers. A messy head of brown hair is peeking from below the blanket, a glass of water and some aspirin tablets are placed on the side table. Eric moves closer warily, sitting on the space next to sleeping man, his weight dipping on the soft mattress.

Hyesung’s face is flushed and his skin is warmer than it is supposed to be—he is running a fever. He frowns even in his sleep, sniffling, and his body shivers slightly even though the heater has been turned up. He is restless, tossing and turning and looking uncomfortable all around. Eric scoots closer to Hyesung on the bed, his hair in a comforting manner, treading his long fingers on the soft strands. He watches as Hyesung’s expression turns more relaxed, how he unconsciously leans towards his hand, seeking solace. Eric doesn’t wish to wake Hyesung up, but the younger man is a light sleeper especially when he is sick. Eric smiles gently when an eye reluctantly opens, searching for his figure. Hyesung blin