by deparkls on ao3

Beomgyu swears taking out his contacts has never been so hard.

He still has his right contact in when a throbbing pain flashes through his head and he stumbles straight into the side of the bathtub, clutching his forehead. His whole body feels hot and sweaty and his breaths are erratic as he tries to stabilise himself by grabbing onto the sink basin, focusing on his reflection in the dirty mirror. Something is very wrong, though, because somehow two Beomgyus stare back at him instead of one.

"What."

Beomgyu blinks, and his clone in the mirror is gone. Huh. He must be seeing things.

He tries plucking the contact out with a shaky hand, and finally gets it after 5 minutes of struggling. Over contact lenses. Beomgyu feels like the lowest person in the world and the most successful at once. Either way, it still doesn't change the fact that his face still feels like it's on fire, and he's got water running down his front at eight in the morning, but he couldn't care less right now.

Sure, Beomgyu has had fevers before, mainly when he was younger and he had his parents to take care of him. But now he's in his second year of university and after being alive for so many years, he can confidently say that he's never felt closer to death than right now. Things are different now. He can't even walk around without waves of dizziness crashing into his head, and he can barely see where he's going. He's never felt so weak.

He picks up his phone with difficulty, and the first thing he does is send a text to Soobin saying he can't make it to their meetup spot today.

Message: trash bin <3

You: hey hyung sorry i can't hangout with you and kai today

You: caught a cold :(

trash bin: what are you ok?

trash bin: what happened?

You: idek lmao and i'm fine

trash bin: i told you to stop overworking yourself omg

trash bin: see this is what happens when you don't listen to your genius best friend

You: it wasn't because of uni idk why

You: anyway i might not show up for a few days bcz i actually feel like i'm gonna die rn

trash bin: wtf- gyu

trash bin: you do have meds in ur apartment right.

You: probably

trash bin: if you need more i can get some from the pharmacy

You: nah i'll be fine

You: dw about me bin just enjoy ur date with kai <3333 i'm such a nice friend fr

trash bin: ..okay if you say so

trash bin: you sure u don't want me to come over

You: yes hyung i'm not gonna die i'm a self functioning human being

trash bin: you can't even cook

You: i have leftovers

Beomgyu shuts his phone off and flops down onto his bed with a groan. What a great friend he is, truly, falling sick on the one day that both of them are free. He feels terrible. He can feel the veins in his wrist pulsing uncomfortably fast and his legs turn to jelly as he tries to prop himself up. He pushes again, and this time he's waddling over to his desk because why not get some work done when he's stuck at home for at least a few days, right?

(Wrong.)

Beomgyu's brain feels fuzzy staring at his laptop screen. He feels like he's operating on autopilot, skimming through paragraphs of stuff he can barely comprehend in this state. He knows he probably should sleep, or eat, or just lie down, but he can't bring himself to just do nothing when there's so much to be done. Why did he choose biology as his major anyway? Beomgyu can't remember. He can't remember anything.

He feels blank. Everything hurts and nothing makes sense. Beomgyu sighs again.

...

Beomgyu wakes up to someone tapping his shoulder. He must've fallen asleep at his desk, because his face feels cold against the desk's wooden surface and his back is hunched uncomfortably. He barely registers what the person was saying; everything being drowned out by the loud pounding in his head. It rings in his ears as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying his hardest to make it go away, please-

"Beomgyu!"

And when Beomgyu raises his head, the last person he expects to see is Choi Yeonjun.

The thing is, Yeonjun and Beomgyu aren't the best of friends- a huge understatement. Anyone could tell they hated each other's guts.

Beomgyu can still remember the first day they met. It was through their mutual friend Soobin, apparently he'd met Yeonjun in a lecture they had together as they were both English majors. He remembers even finding Yeonjun attractive at first glance, an idea that he might actually puke at right now because the moment he opened his mouth he became the biggest asshole to exist in Beomgyu's life. He remembers thinking, does this guy have a superiority complex? He insulted Beomgyu every ten seconds since they met, and Beomgyu didn't even do anything. It's obvious that they never got along from the start.

If he were being honest, actually, Beomgyu doesn't really hate Yeonjun. He just hates the way Yeonjun is nice to everyone but him. Why was he the exception? What did he do wrong to make Yeonjun hate him so much? Maybe he's the problem. Beomgyu thinks they could probably get along if only Yeonjun wasn't such a jerk towards him and only him, but he'll never admit it. Not in a million years. Yeonjun would definitely laugh at him.

Beomgyu's brain promptly short-circuits, because of all the people Choi Yeonjun was not supposed to be here.

"Yeonjun? Wh- how-"

Yeonjun looks tired. "Soobin sent me to check up on you, so here I am. I guess." He doesn't elaborate, and for some reason Beomgyu's heart constricts.

"I told him I didn't need anyone... idiot," he mutters under his breath. His voice comes out hoarser than he expects, and his throat feels dry and sore as he talks. "How did you get in anyway?"

"Soobin gave me your passcode, so don't worry, I didn't break in."

Beomgyu wants to roll his eyes, but the headache still pounds strong as ever and he settles for crossing his arms and staring. "O...kay? What are you gonna do, stand there?"

"Gods.." Yeonjun holds up a plastic shopping bag, its contents heavy at the bottom. "I brought Tylenol from the pharmacy because Soobin said you ran out of meds. Happy?"

"But why? Not like I asked you to," Beomgyu stares at him weirdly.

"Can't you be thankful for once? It's not like I want to be here either," Yeonjun spits out. "Whatever, I don't care whether you take your meds or not." He dumps the bag on his desk, the Tylenol bottle rolling across the surface, and walks out the door.

Beomgyu is left disoriented. He can still hear Yeonjun's retreating footsteps, subconsciously focusing on them until the only sound left in the room is his heavy breathing. He doesn't bother chasing after him. He couldn't believe this guy, leaving a sick Beomgyu alone after only dropping off a bottle of meds? He could have at least stayed longer. That heartless bi - but it's not like Beomgyu cares. Right, he doesn't care what Choi Yeonjun does.

Beomgyu shakes his head to rid himself of any Yeonjun related thoughts, and picks up the Tylenol bottle. He watches as a few pills tumble into his palm, swallows them in one go, and settles his head back on top of his folded arms as he tries to fall asleep again.

...

Yeonjun pushes open the door to Beomgyu's room to announce that he's leaving, not that Beomgyu will even care.

"Yah, I'm gonna g- oh."

The younger boy was fast asleep, with his cheek pressed to the desk and face relaxed. Yeonjun sees the open Tylenol bottle and feels slightly relieved that Beomgyu had decided to take the medicine.

He contemplates just leaving Beomgyu be, but winces when he sees the desk corner jutting uncomfortably into Beomgyu's stomach. Yeonjun might hate Beomgyu, but believe it or not he still has a sliver of compassion for the boy in his heart, especially considering his current state. Beomgyu's not exactly easy to hate when he isn't spitting at Yeonjun 24/7 anyway.

"Does he have zero awareness of his health?" Yeonjun mutters in disbelief, shaking his head.

He sighs before slipping his hands under Beomgyu's armpits, hoisting him up and resting his chin on his shoulder. Beomgyu feels surprisingly light in Yeonjun's arms for a twenty year old man and one over 180 centimetres tall, at that. Sometimes he wonders how Beomgyu manages to look so small even though Yeonjun is only taller by a few centimetres.

He sets Beomgyu down on the bed, not bothering to align his head to the pillow. He'll live.

Yeonjun wipes off the sweat on his hands- that he has no idea how he acquired from holding the other for less than twenty seconds- on his sweatpants, face scrunching up in disgust. From what he could see Beomgyu was already sweating buckets, so he figures covering him with the duvet would just make it worse. Yeonjun doesn't even know why he's being so nice with Beomgyu today. He could've just left him at the desk, just like anyone would with someone they hated, and it wouldn't matter. It's not like the relationship between them could get any worse, anyway.

Yeonjun should probably leave now, that way Beomgyu wouldn't ever have to find out Soobin didn't actually send him over. He really has no reason to be here any longer. But for some reason, he can't bring himself to move, eyes glued to his dongsaeng's tranquil resting face as if in a trance. The younger was in fact quite pretty when he wasn't busy making faces or glaring at Yeonjun all the time. Those long lashes that flutter slightly when he shifts in his sleep, and lips that look soft as ever-

Yeonjun gives himself a mental slap, jolting out of his dazed train of thought. There's no way he just thought of that infuriating bastard as pretty! No, it must be the stress getting to him. Get a grip, Yeonjun.

He takes another glance at the sleeping boy, and gets the feeling that leaving him alone would be a bad idea. Yeonjun checks the time, his phone screen showing nine forty-five in the morning. He bites his lip and exhales. Guess he's staying for a while longer.

...

When Beomgyu wakes up again, he hears sounds coming from the kitchen. Which doesn't make sense, because the last person that entered his apartment was Yeonjun, and he left after dropping off the medicine.

The sounds don't stop, and Beomgyu's curiosity gets the best of him.

He's about to get up to see who it is, but belatedly realises that his current position is in his bed, not his desk. That also doesn't make sense; Beomgyu clearly remembers being at his desk before falling asleep. His brain is clouded and he's too tired to think clearly, so he just stands up and heads to the kitchen to find out who invaded his apartment while he was sleeping.

When he nudges the door open with his elbow, the first thing he sees is a dark haired figure facing away from him, busy at something on the stove. A very familiar dark haired figure. Beomgyu almost doesn't recognise him at first.

Said figure spins around at the sound of his entering the room, and scoffs. "You're up, finally."

Beomgyu blinks several times. He's not sure he's seeing things correctly. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

"Why, surprised I didn't leave?" Yeonjun turns back to the stove, leaving Beomgyu with a front seat view of his broad back and shoulders. He gulps.

"Yeah, actually. There's no reason for you to still be here."

"There is. I'm making rice porridge for you."

Beomgyu's stomach does a thing at the words 'for you'. Yeonjun would never do anything specifically for him. "You didn't have to."

Yeonjun turns off the stove. "Soobin said you haven't been eating, and he'd kill me if I let you suffer, so I pretty much don't have a choice." The younger notices a hint of unease in his voice. Strange.

Beomgyu leans against the wall and slides down until he's squatting. "I'm not suffering." A lie. His head is still pounding, though it did somewhat calm down after the nap.

Yeonjun turns around a second time to stare at him. "Do you even see yourself? You look like shit, I can see those dark circles from here."

Beomgyu rolls his eyes; he's used to Yeonjun's hidden insults. Today he's just too exhausted to deal with the other's antics. He sighs, trying to calm down.

"I know you think I'm ugly, no need to rub it in."

Beomgyu turns away, but he can tell Yeonjun smirks, thinking he won. He knows him too well.

"I never said you were ugly..." Yeonjun trails off, sounding the slightest bit upset. Well, Beomgyu did not expect that at all.

When Beomgyu turns back around, he finds himself facing Yeonjun's back, once more. His stomach does the weird thing again, because this isn't like Yeonjun. Why was he being so calm and nice? He was usually hotheaded and ready to argue with Beomgyu at all times. Beomgyu can't figure out what changed in such a short time.

He stands up from the cold floorboards and settles down on a stool next to the kitchen bench. For once, as he spaces out staring at Yeonjun's turned back, he can't predict what's going through the other boy's head. He's not sure how to handle this new side of Yeonjun, even if it is only because of their mutual friend that he's seeing it. Said mutual friend is probably on a date with Kai somewhere, and has no clue of what's happening, Beomgyu imagines.

A thunk in front of him startles Beomgyu back to reality. Yeonjun sits across from him with a bowl of porridge in front of him. "Here," he pushes the bowl towards Beomgyu. "It's done."

He picks up the spoon and hesitates. "You don't have to stay just because of Soobin, you know. I'll be fine."

"Dammit, is it really that hard to believe I can stand you for more than ten minutes?" Yeonjun snaps, sounding exasperated. Beomgyu recoils at his tone.

"Sorry..." The younger mutters, feeling small. One thing about Beomgyu and Yeonjun is that they never apologise to each other. Beomgyu knows that if they were to get into a real argument, Yeonjun would definitely have the upper hand.

They fall into an uncomfortable silence again. Yeonjun is the first to break the silence, turning away and grumbling, "Just eat your porridge." He scratches at his nape, a habit Beomgyu notices he only does when he's embarrassed.

Beomgyu tries to lighten the mood, teasing, "How can I tell you didn't poison it?" He watches as Yeonjun rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

Yeonjun never smiles around Beomgyu.

Beomgyu's heart swells at the sight, and he gets the urge to smile too for some reason. He shakes away all thought of doing so, though, the moment it starts.

"Because I said so. Don't you trust me, Beomgyu?" Yeonjun smiles mockingly.

Beomgyu snorts, but it comes out as more of a giggle. "No," but he starts eating anyway, almost inhaling the food with the speed that he's shoveling it into his mouth to try and hide his growing smile. It's new, feeling this light around Yeonjun. He thinks he could get used to this, but he knows it won't last long.

He doesn't notice Yeonjun staring, nor does he see the small smile creeping onto the other's face.

...

Beomgyu finishes his porridge hastily and places the empty bowl in the sink. Magically, most of the pain in his head disappeared after eating, but he still felt drained as ever. He imagines it might be because of Choi Yeonjun. It would make sense, after all.

The tension in the room had returned as he was eating. Beomgyu knows they can never spend more than a few seconds without spitting remarks at each other. As much as he tried, he couldn't figure out why Yeonjun was being so quiet today.

Beomgyu could pretty much feel Yeonjun's stare boring holes into his retreating back, getting the urge to curl up into a ball and make himself as small as possible to hide from it. He purposely avoids looking at the other as he beelines towards his bedroom, planning on getting back to work.

"Yah."

Beomgyu spins around in the middle of the hallway like a deer caught in headlights. He meets Yeonjun's questioning stare and feels exposed.

The older raises an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"Uh- back to work? ..Duh." When Yeonjun doesn't reply, he adds, "I still have a long report to finish, and it's due next week-"

"Seriously, Beomgyu? You're sick and you're still worried about uni?" The elder shakes his head, leaving Beomgyu confused.

"I mean, yeah? It's pretty urgent. Why not?" He's not sure what Yeonjun's implying.

Yeonjun goes silent for a second. "..You're so dumb."

Beomgyu almost takes a physical step back. "What, so you just wanted to insult me? I swear to God, Choi Yeonjun," he hisses, then hesitates. He doesn't want to fight Yeonjun, not today.

"..Whatever, I'm going."

"Beomgyu."

Beomgyu pauses, exasperated. He gives the older a pointed look, meaning you're wasting my time.

"If you keep working in that state of yours," Yeonjun looks him up and down, "you'll just lose energy faster and your fever will take longer to heal. For goodness' sake, I shouldn't need to tell you this, you're the biology major here."

"You think I don't know that?" He narrows his eyes. "Why do you even care so much about what I do anyway?"

Beomgyu doesn't know if it's a trick of the light, but for a split second Yeonjun panics. He catches himself immediately, and Beomgyu thinks he might actually be seeing things. Damn this fever.

"I don't want to have to deal with your cranky ass later."

Of course. "Or you could just leave me alone, that way w-"

Yeonjun had enough. "Fuck, can't you just shut up and take care of yourself for once? There are people who care for you, you know."

And Beomgyu does shut up this time, because Yeonjun sounds genuinely upset. He chooses to ignore the worry in his voice, and instead of spitting back a reply, he whispers, "Okay."

He turns away from Yeonjun, unable to look at him, and lies down on the living room sofa, clutching one of the cushions to his chest. The air in the room is thick with unspoken words, but neither choose to speak up about it. Some things are better kept unexplained, Beomgyu convinces himself.

Yeonjun breaks the silence first after a few seconds. "You can go to your room, you know. I didn't mean you had to stay here."

His voice is soft, gentle, reassuring. It's a side of him Beomgyu has yet to discover.

"No, I don't mind. It's cooler out here anyway." He really doesn't mind. They leave it at that and fall into silence again, the only sounds present being Beomgyu's rough breathing and the steady whirring of the air conditioner.

Beomgyu can feel his eyelids drooping, and his brain turn to mush. He's reminded of what Yeonjun said earlier; " There are people who care for you, you know?" It's vague, and Beomgyu's not sure if he wants to know what he meant. Either way, he can't decipher what Yeonjun was trying to imply.

As he feels darkness start to envelop him, Beomgyu drowsily blurts out, "Yeonjun?"

He receives a distant, "Yeah?" in response. The corners of his mouth curl up unconsciously.

"Y'know, you're being so nice to me today, I'm starting to think you want to be friends..." he murmurs with a teasing lilt. He doesn't get to finish, nor does he hear Yeonjun's reply before his eyes fully close and the rest of the world fades into nothing.

...

Beomgyu wakes up for the fourth time today feeling groggy and, surprisingly, not as sweaty as before. He assumes the fever had died down a bit while he was asleep, a sign of him recovering earlier than he expected. He wonders if it was Yeonjun's porridge that did the magic.

Speaking of Yeonjun, Beomgyu wonders if he had left while he was asleep.

As if on cue, a voice sounds from the kitchen, "You're awake."

Ah, guess not.

The sky had already darkened when Beomgyu stands up from the soft couch and trudges over to the kitchen counter, where Yeonjun sat already waiting with two bowls laid out in front of him. The older seems busy, tapping away on his phone with the microwave on in the background. Beomgyu slides into the stool opposite him and clasps his hands, waiting. Yeonjun doesn't look up.

There's a twinge of something unpleasant in Beomgyu's chest, but he brushes it off. Since when did he care about what Yeonjun did?

Yeonjun only acknowledges him when the microwave's timer goes off, glancing in his general direction and turning away.

Beomgyu is not upset.

Yeonjun retrieves two glass dishes from the microwave and sets them down between the pair without a word. One was the kimchi jjigae he made last night, and the other was a freshly steamed bowl of rice.

"You made dinner," he comments. Nothing more, nothing less. Yeonjun didn't seem in the mood to be making small talk anyway.

The older shrugs. "Not really. Just heated the leftovers, it's not much."

Beomgyu chews on his lip. "Thanks," he says hesitantly, voice small. He's not used to thanking Yeonjun. Usually there'd be nothing to thank him for, but for some reason he woke up and chose to be nice to Beomgyu, so here we are.

They divide the food between them, and Yeonjun returns to staring at his phone. Strangely, Beomgyu feels lonely, as if there's a wall between the two.

Beomgyu stares down at his kimchi jjigae, having to remind himself that Yeonjun wasn't doing it for him.

(He wishes he was.)

He picks up his chopsticks and starts to eat, glancing up at the seat opposite him every few minutes. Unsurprisingly, Yeonjun's eyes were glued to his phone every time. Beomgyu wouldn't call himself an attention seeker, so he shouldn't be feeling bitter because Yeonjun isn't paying attention to him, but somehow now he does. How narcissistic.

They eat in silence, leaving Beomgyu to his own jumbled thoughts. He chooses not to dwell on them; it would just make his head hurt even more than it already does.

Eventually Yeonjun stands up, having finished first, and discards his bowl in the sink. Beomgyu follows not long after.

Yeonjun observes Beomgyu while he avoids his gaze. "Feeling better?" He murmurs, and Beomgyu's heart palpitates. Their elbows are almost brushing as Beomgyu reaches into the sink, the close proximity making Beomgyu feel things that definitely aren't caused by his fever.

He nods, "Yeah, uh.. Yeonjun?"

The other hums in acknowledgement. "I- I still don't get why you're doing all this, like I thought Soobin sent you to check up on me, or something? Surely he didn't ask-"

"I lied."

Beomgyu frowns, turning to stare at Yeonjun's hunched figure over the sink, diligently cleaning the dishes.

"What?"

He hears Yeonjun exhale. "Soobin did tell me you were sick, but I decided to come over. I- uh, may have also asked for your passcode," he confesses. Beomgyu blinks, perplexed.

"Wh- but why? You hate me."

Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck. "Well, uh, have you ever heard me say that out loud?"

"..No?" Beomgyu doesn't see where this is going.

"Yeah, well the thing is- I never really hated you?" Yeonjun sounds uncertain, and Beomgyu's brain blanks. "I actually, um, liked you from the start but I guess I was kind of stupid and came off as rude, I don't know.."

Beomgyu doesn't know how to handle this new information. Yeonjun never hated him. "Oh, I- I think I liked you when we first met too," he admits sheepishly. He sneaks a glance at Yeonjun, his expression unreadable.

"No, it's not.." Yeonjun shakes his head, leaning on the sink's edge. Both the dishes and the running tap were long forgotten as the two stood, tense. "I mean, I like like you. Like that. I know it's sudden, and you probably don't like me back, or even hate me more now, but I- I had to say it," he lets out a shaky breath. He doesn't- can't - look at Beomgyu, can't watch his reaction. "I came because I couldn't just let you suffer, and- fuck, I should probably leave now, sorry, I don't even kn-"

"Hey." Beomgyu cuts off his rambling, and steps forward to grab Yeonjun's shoulders. "Hyung."

At the honorific, Yeonjun finally faces Beomgyu. "I like you too. For a while, actually." The younger grins slightly. This time it's Yeonjun who's speechless.

"Wait, I- really?"

"Of course really, why would I say so if it wasn't?" Beomgyu scoffs, though his expression is fond. "..Dumbass."

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and laughs. He clutches his stomach and almost doubles over in silent peals of laughter, wiping the smile off Beomgyu's face.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there and laugh at me?" Beomgyu crosses his arms and pouts.

The older stabilises himself using the kitchen counter, and shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, you're just cute as fuck and I can't believe I didn't realise earlier."

Beomgyu huffs indignantly. "I'm not cute!"

"Yes you are, you idiot. We're so stupid, gods, you're so stupid-"

"What the- I'm starting to regret liking you," Beomgyu scowls, glaring at Yeonjun. He turns on his heel and stomps off, but before he gets far a hand on his shoulder stops him.

Yeonjun spins Beomgyu around and cups his face. He looks directly into his eyes and asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Beomgyu malfunctions. "Y- but you'll get si-"

Yeonjun promptly presses their lips together, effectively shutting him up. Beomgyu suddenly loses all sense of awareness for anything that isn't Yeonjun right now, closing his eyes and relaxing into the kiss. Yeonjun's chapstick tastes like cherries, and Beomgyu's sure it'll smudge onto his lips too, but they'll deal with that later. For now he focuses on the sensation of Yeonjun's lips against his, warmth flooding through his body, and thinks falling sick might have never been a bad thing in the first place.

...

Later that night, after they both finished washing up and decided that Yeonjun would stay over for the night, Yeonjun speaks up.

"Beomgyu-yah?"

They lay on Beomgyu's bed with Yeonjun's arms wrapped around his waist, his voice muffled into the back of Beomgyu's shirt.

"Mhm," the younger responds sleepily.

"Can I take you out sometime?"

Beomgyu groans. "Let me sleep."

He feels Yeonjun grin into his back, tightening his grip around his smaller frame.

"Is that a yes?"

Silence, then a tiny, "..Yes. Now can we sleep?"

Yeonjun chuckles. His boyfriend's too cute for his own good. "Okay, okay, we'll sleep."