Seung-min never got sick.
This was not technically true. He was human, subject to biology and weather like everyone else. But in the practical history of Youn-jun's life, Seung-min simply did not fall ill.
Jun had known him since kindergarten.
Jun had seen him walk on a sprained ankle through sports day because "it was inconvenient."
He had seen him take an exam with a migraine and score first.
He had seen him stand in winter rain without a coat because he had "misjudged the temperature."
But sick?
Never.
Which was why, when Seung-min placed both hands on Jun's desk halfway through second period and said quietly, "Jun," the world immediately became suspicious.
Jun looked up.
Min was pale.
Not elegant pale. Not rich-boy porcelain pale. Actually pale.
His tie was slightly crooked. His hair looked untouched by effort. Worst of all, his eyes were unfocused.
Jun stood so fast his chair screeched.
"You look awful."
"Thank you."
"You're burning."
"You haven't touched me."
"I can tell spiritually."
Seung-min blinked slowly. "That seems unreliable."
Jun grabbed his wrist anyway.
Hot.
Alarmingly hot.
Jun's voice sharpened at once. "Why are you in class?"
"We have a test."
"I hate you."
He slung Min's arm over his own shoulder and started dragging him toward the door.
Seung-min, despite being taller and objectively stronger, offered no resistance.
Their teacher turned from the board. "Where are you two going?"
Jun did not slow down.
"Medical emergency."
"You cannot declare that yourself."
"I just did."
The teacher opened his mouth.
Then looked at Seung-min's face.
"…Fine. Go."
---
The school infirmary smelled faintly of antiseptic and old blankets.
The nurse took one look at Seung-min and pointed at the bed by the window.
"Lie down."
"I'm capable of sitting."
"You're capable of obeying."
Even Jun nearly sat down from the force of it.
Seung-min lay back without further argument.
Jun hovered beside the bed like an anxious ghost.
The thermometer beeped.
The nurse frowned. "High fever."
Jun frowned harder. "How high?"
"High enough that you stop asking questions and let me work."
She handed Min medicine and a glass of water, then turned to Jun.
"You."
Jun straightened. "Yes?"
"Stay quiet or leave."
"I can be quiet."
She looked unconvinced but departed behind the curtain to check another student.
Jun turned immediately back to the bed.
Seung-min had closed his eyes.
Jun's chest tightened strangely.
"Min."
"Hm."
"Why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"
"I noticed this morning."
"And then?"
"I came to school."
Jun rubbed a hand over his face. "You're impossible."
"I've heard that often lately."
"This isn't funny."
"I know."
The answer was so soft that Jun looked up sharply.
Seung-min still had his eyes closed.
Without his usual composure, he looked younger. Less like the person who handled everything and more like someone who had simply run out of strength.
Jun dragged a chair beside the bed and sat.
"You should sleep."
"I am."
"You're talking."
"I'm talented."
Jun would have laughed on any normal day.
Today, he only reached out and brushed damp hair away from Min's forehead.
Too warm.
Way too warm.
"You're really sick," he muttered.
Seung-min opened one eye. "Insightful."
"Be quiet."
"Yes, mother."
---
For twenty minutes, the infirmary stayed mostly silent.
Rain had started outside, tapping softly against the glass. Somewhere down the hall, students moved between classes in waves of noise that faded quickly each time.
Jun tried reading his textbook.
He read the same sentence six times.
Every few seconds he glanced up.
Still sleeping.
Still breathing.
Still too warm.
Jun hated this.
Not sickness itself. The helplessness of it. The fact that Seung-min looked fragile in a way Jun had never had to consider before.
He hated it enough that when Min shifted restlessly and frowned in sleep, Jun stood instantly.
"Min?"
No answer.
Seung-min's hand moved weakly across the blanket, fingers searching.
Jun hesitated only a second before placing his own hand there.
The searching stopped immediately.
Jun froze.
Seung-min's fingers curled around his hand and held on.
Then, with eyes still closed, he murmured, "There you are."
Jun's brain ceased all useful function.
He sat down very slowly.
"That is manipulative," he whispered.
No response.
Asleep again.
Still holding Jun's hand.
Jun looked around wildly as if someone might witness this crime against his heartbeat.
No one did.
He turned back to Min.
"You're lucky you're ill."
Seung-min's thumb shifted once lazily against the side of Jun's hand.
Jun nearly passed away on the spot.
---
The nurse returned an hour later and stopped.
"Well," she said.
Jun looked up too quickly. "What?"
"You seem comfortable."
"We are not."
"Mhm."
She checked Min's temperature again. "Lower than before."
"Good," Jun said at once.
"He'll need rest. Someone should call his family."
"I already texted his father."
The nurse raised a brow. "Prepared."
"I'm efficient."
"Stressed," she corrected.
"I am calm."
At that exact moment, Seung-min tightened his grip in sleep and Jun yelped.
The nurse smiled in a deeply unprofessional manner and walked away.
---
When Seung-min woke properly, the rain had stopped.
Sunlight spilled pale across the sheets.
He blinked once, then looked down.
Jun was asleep in the chair, head resting awkwardly beside the mattress, one hand still trapped in Seung-min's grasp.
For a long moment, Min said nothing.
Then he studied Jun's face.
The slight crease between his brows even while sleeping. The way he had clearly refused to move. The exhaustion that only came when Jun worried too much and pretended otherwise.
Something warm moved quietly through Seung-min's chest.
He lifted their joined hands slightly.
Jun stirred.
"Don't move," Jun mumbled instantly. "You need rest."
"You were asleep."
"I monitor unconsciously."
"That sounds false."
Jun sat up, blinking hard. Then his eyes focused.
Then narrowed.
"You're laughing."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Seung-min's mouth curved faintly. "You drool when anxious."
"I do not."
"You did."
Jun gasped. "I cared for you tenderly and this is my reward?"
"You complained the entire time."
"I complained lovingly."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Both went still.
Jun's ears turned pink with terrifying speed.
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant," Seung-min said quietly.
Jun looked anywhere except at him. "Good."
A pause.
Then Seung-min, voice rough with sleep and fever, said the most dangerous thing yet.
"Do it again."
Jun snapped his head back. "What?"
"Care for me tenderly."
"You're insane."
"Probably fever."
Jun stood so abruptly the chair nearly fell.
"I'm getting water."
"You're blushing."
"You're contagious."
Behind him, Seung-min laughed softly into the pillow.
And for the first time all day, Jun could breathe again.