“This is stupid,” Heechul argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “I do not need to be babied. I am the most mature, well adjusted, prettiest member of this group and I am not diseased.” Leeteuk sighs and rubs his temples.

           “Heechul. There is nothing wrong with getting the chicken pox. We’ve all had it.”

              “The chicken pox is for children,” Heechul retorts. He digs his fingers into his flesh a little deeper to fight the urge to scratch at the hideous red dots scattered all over his body.

              “You’re sick and you’re not doing anything today. I know you really wanted to go on the show and play with the cats, but you get to stay home and play video games. You like video games, Chullie,” Leeteuk says. It is exactly like reasoning with a child. He frowns then. He heard that chicken pox is more dangerous for an adult than a child. Then again, Heechul spent most of the previous day tucked away in the bathroom, throwing up and complaining about a vicious headache. They assumed he was hungover, but Leeteuk definitely didn’t remember suffering that much when he was eight.  

              “Normally you are trying to get out of practice,” Kangin says.

              “You’re definitely sick if you are trying to go to dance practice,” Eunhyuk adds.

              “I’m not sick and I don’t have this chicken pox nonsense you keep blathering about,” Heechul repeats. He sniffles and tears actually well up in his eyes. “Why are you all being so mean?” he asks in a small voice. Donghae yelps and tackles him in a hug and Heechul melts against him, letting the younger boy rock him back and forth as he cries. Kangin and Siwon exchange looks.

              “Should we call the hospital? Because this is not normal,” Kangin mutters to Leeteuk while Donghae pets Heechul’s hair. Leeteuk sighs, then sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches out to Heechul. Heechul makes a little sound of displeasure and burrows deeper into Donghae’s shirt, but allows Leeteuk to feel his face and neck. Leeteuk frowns, then takes his phone and disappears out of the room. He returns ten minutes later.

              “We’ve got to go do our schedules,” Leeteuk murmurs to Heechul, who squeaks in alarm as Donghae begins to pull away. “I want you to try to sleep. Someone will be here to stay with you, so don’t worry.” Heechul tries to cling to Donghae, but his muscles are too sore and achy and weak and Eunhyuk is easily able to peel him off of Donghae, who looks every bit as distraught at the separation as Heechul. “Can you try to lie back down and sleep?”

              “I’m not a child and I’m not diseased,” Heechul snaps. Leeteuk grins at him and tucks him in anyway, kissing him on the forehead. The rest of the members make their farewells and eventually Heechul is left all alone. He is not sick. He’s just covered in awkward red dots and it’s just warm in his room and he’s sore because two days ago he had to do all of the dancing. But he’s fine. If he was going to get sick, it would be something dignified like strep throat or a manly, manly cold. The manliest of colds. He glares at the ceiling. This is stupid. And itchy. It is both stupid and itchy. He can’t even sleep because it’s so itchy.

              Suddenly, the door flies open to reveal Geng carrying a tray of food and tea. His eyes are b with nothing but the warmest of love and concern.

              “I thought you had a photoshoot.”

              “Rescheduled,” Geng says. He sets the tray down. “How are you doing?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle. Heechul merely holds up his arms and Geng smiles at him, rushing to his side and drawing him into a comforting embrace.

              “I don’t feel well,” Heechul mumbles into Geng’s shoulder. Geng can feel the heat radiating from Heechul’s body. “I itch and everything hurts and yesterday I couldn’t stop throwing up and I’m too old and sophisticated to get the chicken pox.” Geng lightly chuckles and kisses Heechul on the head. “And you’re going to get it too.”

              “Already did when I was six,” Geng murmurs.

              “You traitor,” Heechul says, his rage muffled in Geng’s shirt. He pulls away to scratch at his arms, but Geng grabs his wrists. “Unhand me, you barbarian!”

              “If you scratch you’re only going to make the infections worse,” Geng tells him. “Come on. A bath might make you feel better.” Geng picks Heechul up easily and carries him into the bathroom, setting him down on the counter.  “No scratching.”

              “If you didn’t want me to scratch, it shouldn’t itch,” Heechul grumbles. He folds his hands primly in his lap. “And you don’t get to tell me what to do. You are a heartless traitor.”

              “I’m sorry my six year old self had a social life,” Geng replies with a grin. He fills the tub and adds all of the most soothing oils he can find, then helps Heechul undress and get into the tub. While Heechul soaks, Geng perches on the edge of the tub and begins to gently brush Heechul’s hair. “Feel better?” he asks after a long while. Heechul brings his hands up to cover his face.

              “No. I’m red and stupid looking and ugly and diseased. Just put me in quarantine forever. I don’t want to be seen ever again.”      

              “You could never be ugly,” Geng soothes. He takes a cloth and lightly begins to wash Heechul’s back. Heechul leans into his touch and Geng smiles before he realizes that Heechul’s wiggling around so that the cloth will scratch the red splotches on his back. “That’s going to make it worse!”

              “What could be worse?” Heechul protests. “Come back! That’s the spot I can’t reach!”

              “Good.” Heechul scowls and Geng kisses him on the temple, then frowns. “We’ve got to do something about that fever though.” The water is cool by now, so Geng fishes Heechul out of the water, helps him dry off, and then wraps him up in his softest, fluffiest robe. He bends down to drain the water from the tub and when he turns around, he nearly plows right into Heechul, who is gazing at him with wide, wounded eyes. “Chullie?” Heechul swallows hard. “Chullie, are you ok?”

              Without a word, Heechul all but collapses into Geng, who manages to steady him. Heechul clings to him as he cries and Geng holds him in a tight, protective grasp.

              “It’s ok,” Geng murmurs. “You can feel as miserable as you want and cry as much as you want.” So Heechul does. Geng somehow manages to shepherd Heechul back into his bed and beneath the covers, but Heechul never relinquishes his hold on Geng. “Do you want an Asuka-chan?” Geng asks. “Here, have an Asuka-chan.” He reaches over to one of the Asuka-chan pillows and Heechul sniffles, before reaching out to accept the pillow. He clutches it tightly while slumped heavily against Geng, who tries to coax him into eating some food. But every time, Heechul refuses, then starts to cry some more because Geng just wanted to help but Heechul can’t handle the notion of food. “Shh, it’s ok,” Geng tells him. “But I need to take your temperature.” He reaches for a thermometer that Leeteuk left. He slips on one of the sterilizing strips, then tries to coax Heechul into accepting it.

              Geng swears when he sees how high Heechul’s fever is. In response, Heechul moans and slumps over his lap, unable to sit upright anymore.

              “I’m going to get you some medicine,” Geng says. Heechul mumbles something, but Geng is already headed for the medicine cabinet. He races back to Heechul and forces him to sit back up, although it’s a struggle.

              “Stop,” Heechul slurs.

              “I need you to take this,” Geng says.

              “What, is it cyanide? Will that make me feel better?”

              “No, it’s aspirin. Close enough.” He someone manages to get Heechul mostly upright and forces Heechul to swallow the medicine, rewarding him with a small kiss. He allows Heechul to curl up tightly beside him, his head in his lap. Tears continue to trickle down Heechul’s face, but there’s only so much Geng can do for him.

              “I love you, Chullie,” Geng murmurs, rubbing his hair. Heechul reaches for his hand and Geng allows him to take it. “Shhh, you’re going to be ok.” Heechul chokes on a sob.

              By the time Leeteuk and the others return, Geng and Heechul are on the couch in the living room, watching a documentary about cats. They turn to watch their bandmates file into the house. Leeteuk gives them both a kind smile.

              “How are you holding up?” Leeteuk asks. Heechul tightens his grasp on his Asuka-chan pillow, but extends an arm to Leeteuk, clearly wanting a hug. “Oh! Oh, of course.” Leeteuk kneels down in front of Heechul and draws him into his arms. Heechul wraps an arm around Leeteuk’s neck and presses his forehead against his shoulder. Leeteuk glanced over at Geng.

              “He’s been kind of clingy,” Geng explains, ruffling Heechul’s hair. “He just needs to be held. But he’s been good about not scratching.” Leeteuk rubs Heechul’s back, relishing the rare opportunity to cuddle Heechul for a bit.

           “Do you want something to eat?” Heechul shakes his head. “Can you at least try to eat some soup for me?” Heechul sighs, but then nods. Leeteuk smiles. As much as he doesn’t ever want to see him suffer, Leeteuk’s rather enjoying how much Heechul is letting himself be fussed over. And how quiet and docile and manageable Heechul is for once in his life. Ryeowook instantly goes into the kitchen to heat up some soup for Heechul. He brings it over to Heechul when it’s ready, but they run into the slight complication of Heechul absolutely refusing to move. Every time Leeteuk tries to pull away, Heechul half whimpers and half growls and tightens his grasp.

“Heechul, this is not conducive to eating dinner,” Geng says. Heechul manages to muster enough strength to flick him off.

“If you eat some soup, I’ll be right here and I’ll find a way to cut out at least ten seconds

of you dancing in the next music video,” Leeteuk bargains. They wait for a moment. Finally, Heechul lifts his heavy head, although he promptly slumps back over onto Geng. Leeteuk smiles and brushes some of his damp hair away from his face. “You’re still way too hot.” Heechul doesn’t even rise to the bait. Leeteuk frowns, then smirks before leaning in to rub his nose against Heechul’s. He pulls back in surprise when Heechul seems to relax at the contact.

“It’s terminal, isn’t it?” Geng says. “He’s dying. Do you even remember what happened the last time I tried to do that to him? He tried to stab me with a pineapple and banish me to Alaska.” Leeteuk only snickers and begins to spoon some soup into Heechul’s mouth. Heechul manages a few bites before he turns his face away from the spoon.

“Not anymore,” he pleads. Leeteuk looks vaguely disappointed, but he simply sets the soup aside.

“Would you like to go back to bed?” Leeteuk asks. Heechul shakes his head.

“Ok. You just stay here and rest.” He gets up and Heechul emits a cry of alarm. Leeteuk instantly sits back down beside him. “Um…”

“It’s ok, hyung!” Donghae chirps. “We are all right here! We won’t ever let be alone or lonely.” Heechul raises his dull eyes to look at Donghae, who is holding another Asuka-chan. “Leader has some stuff to do, but I will stay here with you! And if you need anything, I’ll help you, hyung!” Leeteuk shoots him a grateful look and gets off of the couch. Donghae plops down in his place and offers Heechul the Asuka. He takes it and places it on Donghae’s lap, then stretches out with his head on the pillow and his legs across Geng’s lap. “See? I will be right here now.” He drapes an arm protectively over Heechul. Within minutes, Heechul is asleep. “Poor Heechul hyung,” Donghae murmurs. “He must feel so icky. But that’s ok. We’ll make him all better!”

Deep down, however, the band is rather fond of the snuggly, disease-ridden version of Heechul. Geng manages to get a few minutes of rest by draping Heechul across Siwon’s lap or letting Sungmin coo over him for a while. Sometimes Heechul cries, but normally it’s easily resolved by giving him a hug or a pillow or both. One one occassion, nearly two days after the spots broke out, Leeteuk strolls into the living room to find Heechul weeping into the couch as Eunhyuk hovers over him with every last one of Heechul’s pillows in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” Leeteuk gasps.

“Eun-eunhyuk is being a beast,” Heechul cries. Eunhyuk sighs.

“I wouldn’t let him scratch and he won’t even take a pillow,” he says. Leeteuk clucks his tongue and floats down beside Heechul, his hair soothingly.

“I know it itches, Chullie, but we’re only doing this because we love you. Eunhyuk doesn’t want his hyung to accidentally scratch open one of the spots. That would hurt and scar.” Heechul lifts his head.

“Scar?” Leeteuk nods. Heechul thinks for a moment, then wipes his face and sits up. Relief washes over Eunhyuk as Heechul accepts the pillows from Eunhyuk, then forces him to sit down beside him so that he can be cuddled. Eunhyuk just looks happy that Heechul isn’t bawling or threatening to kill him and graciously cradles Heechul against his chest. Within moments Heechul has dozed off.

“He’s like a giant fluffy kitty like this,” Eunhyuk whispers, wrapping a blanket around him. “Can we keep him?”

“I wish,” Leeteuk mutters. But he knows that it can’t possibly last.

He’s right. For three lovely days, Super Junior’s primary responsibility is to make sure that Heechul is at all times making physical contact with one of the members and is sufficiently wrapped up in pillows and blankets. Even Kangin discovers, to his horror, that he has taken to cooing over the normally loud, harsh Heechul.

Then the fourth day, Heechul seems to be making a turn for the better. Or worse. Leeteuk is awoken one morning to a loud thud, which is clearly coming from Heechul’s room. He frowns and gets up, worried that Heechul may have hurt himself. Instead, he finds Heechul standing on his bed, his hands on his hips, glowering at Geng.

“You can’t tell me not to scratch. They itch. And there’s a million of them. And the stupid cream is sticky and doesn’t do anything.” He pauses as Geng turns the page in the book he is reading. “Are you even listening to me?” Leeteuk sighs.

“Feeling better, Heechul?” he asks.

“No I am not feeling better. This is the worst I have ever felt. This is the worst I have ever

looked! I am Kim Heechul. Kim Heechul does not get itchy red bumps on his face. I am never leaving this house ever again. And don’t tell me how to live my life. You’re not my mom. If I want to scratch, then I’m going to scratch. And I’m going to live out my life as a hermit.” He turns to Geng, his eyes suddenly mournful. “Go on without me, Geng. Find someone else whose beauty will be worthy of you. I’m going to live in shame in this house forever.” Geng merely raises an eyebrow. Heechul then leaps off of the bed and goes into the closet, rummaging through a box of old costumes. He finally pulls out a large piece of sheer black material and disappears into the nearest bathroom. Leeteuk watches in confusion, then turns to Geng.

“He’s covering up the mirror. I tried to tell him the spots will go away and he doesn’t need to hide his face in shame forever, but he wasn’t going for it,” Geng says. “But his fever is a lot better now. I think it should be gone within the next two days.”  Heechul returns from the bathroom and then digs through the closet some more, then finds an old black veil which he drapes over himself.

“There. Now people can tell stories about how once there was the most beautiful boy in

whole history of the universe, but one day he was stricken down by the gods and horribly disfigured for the whole rest of his life and no one ever saw him ever again and his one true beloved was so horrified that he left on his noble steed that very night and rode off into the countryside of Bavaria, where he married the gorgeous daughter of a rich count.” Geng blinks and Leeteuk leans over to him.

“What’s he talking about?”

“Geng is moving to Bavaria to marry some hot, rich, blonde chick! Pay attention, mortal!”

Heechul shrieks. “How can someone like Geng love someone like me?”

    “Here, put these on too,” Geng says. He tosses Heechul long, elegant black gloves that match his veil perfectly. Heechul frowns, but slips them on as well. He stares at his hands, then frowns and disappears back into the bathroom. He flips on the light and moves the black cloth over the veil enough so that he can see himself.

“Geng, have you ever noticed how pretty I look in black gloves? Don’t I look like the mysterious heroine of a early twentieth gothic novel? Wait, hold on.” He once again dives into the box, then finds a black dress. Geng has no idea why he has the black dress. “I need a parasol. Does Sungmin have one? Hang on.” He swiftly changes into the dress and gallops away, not the least bit ladylike.

“Looks like Heechul’s almost back to normal,” Leeteuk says wistfully.

“Yeah,” Geng says. “But you know...deep down, he’s always that snuggly.” Leeteuk

sighs.

“I just wish he’d let me take care of him more. He’s just so strong and independent.”

Geng snorts as they hear Heechul bellowing at Sungmin to let him borrow his parasol. “And loud.”

“And loud,” Geng agrees. He is not feeling particularly inclined to rescue Sungmin at the moment, but after several more shouts, he and Leeteuk emerge from the room.

“Call me Lady Heedelia,” Heechul says once they find Heechul with the other members in the living room.

“Heechul is officially never allowed to be cooped up for so long,” Kangin mutters as Heechul proceeds to lecture them on his tragic history full of intrigue and mystery and an inexplicable Bavarian girl, twirling his parasol all the while.

“Yah! Pay attention!” Heechul scolds, poking Kangin with his parasol. “I’m telling you the story of how I have become permanently disfigured and how my betrothed left me in the middle of the night on his stupid horse for some blonde Bavarian!”

“I’m paying attention, hyung!” Donghae exclaims. Heechul smiles.

“This is why I like you.” He glares at Geng. “You are unbelievable. First I can’t scratch, and then it’s all, oh, I like European girls with big s and who know all of the court dances. Well, eff you, and your court dances and your stupid European balls. I hope she gets attacked by a horde of mosquitos and then you tell her not to scratch.”

“Yep. The fever definitely fried his brain,” Kyuhyun says. He reaches over to pat Geng on his shoulder. “Congrats on your new engagement to…” He looks over at Heechul. “Hey, what’s the name of the girl Geng ditched you for?”

“Buttercup,” Heechul says with a dramatic sniff. He pulls out a handkerchief and begins to rub away fake tears. And keeps rubbing. Geng frowns and reaches up to snatch it away. ‘It itches, Geng!”

“I know it does, babe, but it’s not going to get better because of that. Look, I’m sorry about the whole Buttercup thing, but this isn’t the way to handle things!” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you just come sit here and we’ll talk things out?” He gives Heechul a soft, pleading look. Heechul crosses his arms, but when Geng doesn’t falter, he eventually gives in and sits down in Geng’s lap. The instant Geng wraps his arms around Heechul, he melts against Geng, snuggling against his chest so his ear is resting right above Geng’s heart. Geng presses his lips to Heechul’s hair. “If you want me to hold you, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to make up stories about me riding a horse somehow from Korea to Bavaria.” Heechul scoffs.

“I don’t want you to hold me. It’s just that you so obviously want to hold me that eventually I just have to give in. And these gloves make it hard to scratch.”

“I know, but it’s just a few more days.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Geng replies. Heechul doesn’t look entirely convinced at first, but then the

tension slips out of his body. He tilts his head and lightly brushes his lips against Geng’s jaw.

“Love you,” he mumbles, somewhat sheepishly. Geng tightens his grasp on him.

“I love you too.”