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Jisung was an adult.
No matter how much his members, his fans, heck , even his family liked to treat him like he’d exited the womb two second ago, he was a full-grown adult, dammit. It was harmless fun most of the time, until he realized that he couldn’t mention feeling even the slightest bit unwell out of fear that his members would start coddling him again. Last time he’d been injured, his members treated him like he was made of glass even months after he’d recovered. He shuddered just thinking about it. Never again, especially now that there were even younger members who looked up to him as a seasoned idol and not a cute baby.
But today, he had a small dilemma. He’d woken up the slightest bit groggy—no big deal, he could handle it. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t felt very hungry at breakfast, but he hadn’t thought anything of that either. It didn’t matter if he would have to go the whole day feeling dizzy and weak—it wasn’t like he had anything important to do, aside from a brief dance run-through. It was hardly a practice, and not to brag, but he’d nailed the choreography ages ago. It was no big deal, right? He’d just act okay for half an hour and then resign to his room for the rest of the day. He was a responsible adult, the least he could do was show up.
Jisung regretted that decision when he entered the practice room and was immediately reminded that oh , this was nineteen other guys in the same practice room. Nineteen extremely loud guys. He could hardly keep his thoughts in order when there were at least five different conversations going on at any given time, punctuated by hysterical laughter and occasional screeches (whatever that was for, he didn’t really want to know), and suddenly he felt like the most mature person in the room.
“Jisungie, you okay?” Chenle asked casually, patting Jisung on the back. He’d somehow snuck up behind Jisung and he hadn’t heard it because of the sheer noise echoing in the room.
Truth was, he didn’t feel particularly great. On top of general malaise, his stomach was beginning to hurt, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was due to hunger, stress, or sickness. The latter of which he pushed to the back of his mind—if he didn’t think he was sick, he couldn’t really be sick, right?
“Uh. I’m fine, I guess?” Jisung replied hesitantly, stiffening a little. He didn’t want anyone to find out he wasn’t feeling well, no, not when everyone was there.
“If you say so,” Chenle shrugged. Jisung was taken aback when the older boy squinted and made the “I’m watching you” motion with his hands as he walked to his position. What could he possibly have meant by that? Honestly, his members showed concern in the weirdest of ways sometimes.
Jisung didn’t utter a single word for the rest of that dance practice, channeling his energy into staying upright and passing off as okay. It was a hard job as the small ache in his stomach slowly turned into a full-blown fire.
When the run-through was finally over, Jisung begged his legs to keep him standing upright as he wanted nothing more than to just collapse on the floor (and writhe around, but maybe that was a bit dramatic). It wasn’t unusual for the members to sit down after an intense dance practice, but he couldn’t afford to do so today, not when it would provoke even more concern. Well, it seemed that he was provoking concern either way.
“You feeling alright, maknae?” Taeyong had approached him almost the exact same way Chenle had earlier, only with a bit more formality, and Jisung almost jumped as the leader’s firm hand landed on his shoulder. It was beginning to grow scary at this point—either his members had incredible intuition or he was terrible at hiding how he felt. Probably a mix of the two.
“…yes?” Jisung responded, voice coming out much smaller than he intended. He cleared his throat and responded properly. “Yes, hyung.”
Taeyong smiled, patting the younger’s shoulder. “Great, but I just wanted to check because you seemed a little down today,” he explained. “How’s life been treating you lately? I know we’ve all been so busy.”
“It’s been fine, I guess,” Jisung mumbled behind his mask. “Thank you, hyung. By the way. For asking,” he added out of respect, stuttering slightly.
“You don’t have to thank me, Jisungie. And that’s great to hear,” Taeyong chuckled. “Just tell me or one of the Dreamies if something is wrong, okay?” He held up his hand for a fistbump of agreement, which Jisung accepted.
“Oh, and if Mark and Haechan bother you too much, let me know,” Taeyong added, winking and poking Jisung’s shoulder playfully.
As Jisung smiled and turned away to grab his bag, he nearly keeled over as his stomach made itself known once again with a harsh cramp. He bent over, disguising it as reaching for his bag, and let his face scrunch up in pain for a second as he breathed through it. This was certainly something not to be ignored.
By the time he reached home, Jisung was hardly functioning. He felt like he could drift off any second but was kept awake by the agonizing twisting of his stomach, and the conflicting signals only served to make him feel sicker.
Deciding to take charge for himself, Jisung gathered what energy he had to grab himself a glass of water which he brought to his room and promptly forgot about as he curled up in bed. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes as he gritted his teeth and clutched his stomach tightly. It hurt so much, and he just wanted someone to be there, to know that he wasn’t feeling well, and for a second he regretted keeping quiet.
Jisung almost gave in and reached for his phone to text someone to come over, until he reminded himself that the whole reason he was alone was because he wasn’t a baby. Oh well. Most grown adults could handle a little stomach ache on their own anyways.
This was hardly a little stomach ache, though. He could physically feel the pain twisting deep in his core, and it hurt like nothing else he’d ever felt before. Curling up with his knees to his chest seemed to be the only thing that relieved some of the pressure, along with keeping both hands wrapped around his middle. An intense cramp finally sent Jisung over the edge, and he had to reach up and wipe away the tears that had slid across his face.
A ding resounded from Jisung’s phone and he hesitantly picked it up, sniffling. The text gracing the top of the screen was from Chenle, notifying Jisung that he would be coming over in a minute for “no particular reason”. At that moment, it turned out that Chenle’s weird habit of always being strangely available for strange reasons came in luck, and Jisung took a moment to mentally thank the elder for being his savior. Sure, it meant he would get babied, but if it didn’t happen by his own volition then it practically didn’t count.
Jisung almost wanted to relax because the notification settled his mind so much, but there was another problem. His stomach now felt like it was in his throat, and he couldn’t move out of fear it would end badly. But he knew it would also end badly if he didn’t move, now .
He propped himself up as slowly as he could, hand sinking into his bed as his elbow straightened shakily. His other hand, which was starting to shake too, was pressed tightly against his mouth as his mind raced, saying no, it won’t happen when it definitely would.
He gagged slightly into his palm and immediately his eyes widened— this really was happening. His legs, trained by a lifetime of dancing, propelled him across the room so he could fling open the bathroom door just in time to cough and retch up what little he had eaten into the toilet. “ Help,” he choked out between retches, to no one in particular, as he cried from both the pain and the fear that this was really happening to him, that he was losing control of himself just like that.
The timing proved itself even more impeccable as Jisung’s ears were met with the squeal of a door and a certain hyung’s screeching voice, which was the sound of an angel descended from heaven to Jisung right now.
“Jisungie, you seemed really off earlier today and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong so I came ‘cause why not,“ Chenle blabbered as his footsteps approached Jisung’s room, pattering around to search for the maknae. Jisung groaned to signify his location, which Chenle heard and promptly found.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Chenle gasped, kneeling down beside the younger and rubbing circles on his back. “What happened?”
“M’ stomach hurts so much,” Jisung cried, hiccuping and sniffling, which only served to set off his stomach more as more liquid was sent surging up his throat. “H-help me, hyung , m-make it stop!” he sobbed futilely.
“Shhh, you’re okay, I’m here,” Chenle cooed into Jisung’s ear, breath warm against his neck. “Breathe for me, baby.” It was a sweet gesture, but Jisung could hardly focus on the words over the sobs shaking his body and the stabbing pain assaulting his stomach.
Jisung thought he heard the sound of a phone making a call, and he made out snippets of Chenle’s voice over his own crying— “ Jisungie’s sick… come over… okay, see you soon. ”
“Wh-who’s that?” Jisung stuttered between breath hitches.
“Taeyong-hyung is coming to help you, baby,” Chenle reassured. “You aren’t stuck with just me,” he added, chuckling. “I know I’m not much help.”
There was a knock on the door, and Chenle scampered off to answer it. He returned with a very concerned-looking Taeyong in tow.
“Jisungie, baby, how are you feeling?” Taeyong asked sympathetically, kneeling on the floor without hesitation and rubbing the boy’s shoulders gently. “Turns out you really aren’t alright, huh,” he sighed. “I should’ve noticed.”
Jisung tried to respond, but his body didn’t seem capable of forming words at the moment and he only gave a pitiful moan before he was sent back into a fit of sickness.
“Whoa, Jisungie. You’re really sick,” Taeyong grimaced, rubbing the poor maknae’s back as he threw up again. He did so until Jisung’s stomach finally stopped rebelling and he let his head drop, panting.
“Is it just an upset tummy, baby?” Taeyong asked gently, patting the younger’s tight stomach and eliciting a brief wince from Jisung, who nodded shyly in response. He was getting babied again, but he couldn’t deny that it felt good to have someone care from him. Especially if it was the most reliable person he knew.
“My guess is that your body is just trying to get rid of something icky you ate earlier,” Taeyong sighed, standing up with a grunt. “Alright, Jisungie. You feeling ready to get up?”
Jisung hesitantly took the elder’s hand and pulled himself up in a way that took the least effort from his abdominal muscles. He curled up in his bed, whimpering in pain, as Taeyong slipped into the kitchen in search of anything useful.
“Wellll…” Chenle piped up, dragging out the syllable. “I knew I’d be useless at actually taking care of you, so it’s great that Taeyong-hyung could come by,” he laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “But I can keep you company,” he added, more softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Tummy hurts,” Jisung murmured quietly, fully aware of how pitiful he looked, curled up in bed with tears streaking his face. “I hate being sick so much.”
“You should’ve said something before it got this bad,” Chenle sighed, plopping down on the bed and stroking Jisung’s stomach gently.
“But you guys would have fussed over me,” Jisung countered defensively. “ Ah - what are you doing-“
Chenle released his fingers from the playful pinch he had on Jisung’s abdomen, snickering shamelessly. “Jisungie, you’re a lot worse at acting fine than you think you are. We would have fussed over you anyways.”
“Fair,” Jisung sighed. “But it just feels weird for me to ask for help now. I mean, I’m supposed to be a responsible adult and I’m technically not even the maknae anymore.”
“Jisungie, asking for help is a part of life. Why do you think I called Taeyong-hyung just now? Because I knew I couldn’t take care of a sick person myself— heck, I don’t even know what he’s looking for in the kitchen. It’s okay to admit that you can’t do something yourself. It doesn’t make you any less of an adult.”
Jisung’s eyes stung at the sound of his hyung’s wise words. “R-really?” he sniffled.
“Yes, baby,” Chenle cooed. “And for the record, you’ll always be the maknae to us. Now come here, you,” he added playfully as he cozied up next to the younger. Jisung couldn’t hold back the soft smile that crept up his face as Chenle ruffled his hair incessantly. Maybe being babied wasn’t so bad after all.
The whole time, Taeyong just stood watching in the doorway, using the hand that wasn’t holding various medications and home remedies to wipe his teary eyes. His kids really had grown up so well.