"Suho-hyung!"

Bitter annoyance ran down the leader's spine. Tao had been terribly ill for the past four days, "too weak" to even practice. Whenever Tao came down with a cold, it might as well have been the worst case of man flu in the history of documented medicine, for how listless and helpless he became. His vocal chords, however, always seemed to work surprisingly well, and Suho's name was always the first out of his mouth. He demanded all of his meals in bed (usually brought by Suho,) couldn't be bothered to leave bed for anything but the restroom, not even to take the four steps from his bed to his desk to reach his laptop charger (again, he called in Suho for this,) and required his back massaged at least every other day (this he called Chanyeol or Chen for, reasoning that Suho's "lady hands" were too delicate to deliver the required force.) Sometimes the other members would be nice enough to go in Suho's stead, but their tolerance levels for Tao's bull were significantly lower than Suho's. D.O., for example, probably would have killed him long ago if he'd been the unfortunate soul at Tao's constant beck and call.

The worst of it all? Suho himself had gotten sick a couple of months ago, and on the one day of it when he genuinely felt like death was around the corner, he'd asked Tao to help him put together an overnight bag and call a manager to take him to urgent care. Tao's response? "Oh hyung, you're so dramatic! You'll be fine," he called out, without leaving his spot on the bean bag chair in the common room. When panting noises stopped coming from Suho's room, Tao was far too deep into Instagram to notice that Suho had passed out. Fortunately, Xiumin, who was a little (a very, very 'little') more observant, came back from recording a radio show a few minutes later and rectified the situation.

"Hyung, where are you?" came the whine.

Suho shot a pleading look toward Kai and Sehun, both of whom made a clear effort to avoid it, but Suho wouldn't have it this time. "Guys—"

"Oh, Sehun, isn't it time for—"

Suho had let the I-have-to-go-to-that-one-thing routine get him more than once over these past 80 hours, and it wouldn't happen again. "Guys!" he said, adding a bit of Tao-esque whine to the plea.

Sehun ignored Kai's attempt at escape in favor in a more direct one. "Taking care of the other members is the hallmark of a good leader, hyung." Trying to keep from laughing at what he very well knew was nonsense, he added, "Tao will love you for it."

"But—"

Kai snapped his fingers, and in the next instant, Suho was alone, having allowed them to leave him again.

"Hyung!"

"Maknaes are the worst," the jilted leader mumbled to himself before getting to his feet and trudging to Tao's room. By the time he reached it, exaggerated hacking and wheezing were being added for dramatic effect as Tao rolled around in a terrible emulation of the throes of death. He decided to keep his distance as best as possible, staying just outside the room. "What do you need, Tao?"

The younger stopped writhing and frowned at the deadpan tone Suho had made little effort to hide, but there were more important matters to focus on at the moment. "Come here for a second."

Suho came through the doorframe, still trying his best to avoid the cloud of plague surrounding Tao.

"Closer..."

He inched forward.

"For Pete’s sake, I'm sick, not radioactive."

Suho bit the inside of his lip and finally made his way to Tao's bedside. "How may I serve?" he muttered with biting sarcasm.

"Okay, which one of these selfies makes me look sick, but not like, "gross" sick—Hey! Where are you going?"

Suho was the type of man who was able to maintain a calm exterior until the moment he exploded with anger, and that moment had come.

Tao was left in a state of confusion as Suho stormed out of the room. Suho's pounding footsteps stopped a few steps out of the doorway when Sehun could be heard saying, "Oh hey, we brought you some bubble tea." Said voice was followed by a yell, the sound of liquid hitting the ground, and more pounding footsteps stomping their way back through the dorm.

A thoroughly soaked Sehun came through Tao's door.

"Did you call him in to talk about selfies?"

"…Maybe."

The maknae shook his head and left without a word, and Tao shrugged, unconcerned with the antics of his groupmates. "I guess it's this one, then."

Tao woke a few hours later, phone still in his hand, and he realized he'd fallen asleep while reading the immediate outpouring of support from his fans. He was just about to unlock the phone and check his recent messages, when he realized the air was thick with something familiar. Sehun had closed his door upon exiting, and his nose was stopped up to the point where he couldn’t smell, but he could feel the essence around him. Groggily, he stretched all six feet of his sore, lethargic body, and made his way to the aching feet he had been mysteriously "unable" to use until earlier. Outside, he could already hear Chen's excited banter and multiple people laughing, and once he opened the door, he knew exactly what it was he'd detected.

"You ordered chicken without me?" He said, his indignation making the other ten spin around immediately.

"Oh, you can walk?" Baekhyun said, tearing into the last of the honey-glazed thighs.

"You must be feeling better now," Chen added, still holding the bone of a wing he'd stripped clean. "How about helping to clean up?"

"That's not cool at all, guys. You could have at least asked."

"You were sleeping," Xiumin said. He looked away, but made no further effort to hide the fact that he was lying about the reason.

"Then get me something and save it; you know what I like."

One of the group coughed, a noise that sounded suspiciously like, "Selfies". Several members' lips began to tremble, and a few threatened a smile.

The anger in Tao’s chest grew hotter. "Well, if that's how you treat your sick group member, then fine."

He was the only one who couldn't hear the silent but obvious response: "You never lift a finger for us when we're sick, and we've been 'treating' you for half the week. The rest of them returned to basking in the afterglow of the chicken. The heat had spread to his face at this point, and he felt pinpricks at the corners of his eyes, so he turned and retreated to his room before the others could see them escalate into tears. Chanyeol and Baekhyun's quiet snickering didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the full-blown laughter that came once he slammed his door.

He buried his face in his pillow, and allowed the water building in his eyes to be absorbed before it could fall. Once he'd calmed down a bit, he unlocked his phone and checked on some of the replies to the picture he'd uploaded.

"Don't worry! Suho-oppa and D.O.-umma will take good care of you~!"
"Get better soon, oppa! Your group members and we fans are with you! Fighting!"
"I hope you feel better soon, but you have 9 guys to take care of you! Honestly, I'm a little envious!"

Whether it was anger at the fans' ignorance, or envy at the immaculate image they were able to hold of the group, he didn't know, but reading the comments only served to augment his anger. He tossed the phone aside, and attempted to sink back into the world of dreams.

He remembered that at some point, he did wake up and sneeze nine times in a row. Other than it making quite the spectacular snotty mess, he hadn't thought anything of it. He also noticed a small box of chicken wings had been placed on the small nightstand wedged between his and the bed that was usually habitated by Chen (who had left what he called the "quarantine zone" in favor of one of the empty beds that still remained in Suho and Xiumin's room.) There was no name written on the attached Post-It note, but the apology it held had clearly been written by Lay. After consuming the chicken voraciously, he curled up and returned to sleep, hoping that the next day would be a better one.