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atths--twice · 24 days

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Germs and All

After attending a conference, Scully falls ill. Not wanting to be alone, and missing Mulder, she heads to his apartment.

I've been fighting through a cold the past few days. As a result, I've had extra time on my hands as I've been resting. Because of this, my mind wanders to MSR more than usual. I love stories where they take care of each other and so, I've written this little fic.

Hope you enjoy. 💓

Scully woke up, her mouth dry and nose stuffy. Groaning, she rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock before closing her eyes in the gray light. Opening her eyes again, she looked back at the clock as she drew in a breath.

11:30.

It was eleven thirty?

Sitting up, she looked around the room and then picked up her watch to be sure the time was correct.

11:30.

“Oh, God,” she whined softly as she fell back onto the pillows, sniffling deeply. “How is it so late?”

Rain hit the windows and she sighed as she sat up again and laid her watch back beside her half drunk cup of tea. Pushing herself up, she groaned again, her body aching.

Stumbling to the bathroom, she used the toilet, washed her hands and brushed her teeth. Staring at her reflection, she sighed and made a face before turning off the light and leaving the room.

Shivering, she grabbed the comforter off of the bed and wrapped it around herself as she groaned again and opened the bedroom door.

Pausing just past the doorway, she looked to her right and saw Mulder sitting on his couch, smiling at her.

“Hello,” he said and she frowned with another groan. “I take it you’re not feeling better.”

“It’s eleven thirty,” she complained and he nodded, glancing at his watch.

“Nearly quarter till twelve now,” he said and she whined.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” she asked, kicking the comforter back from her feet as she walked over to him.

“Let you?” he asked with a chuckle, as she sat on the end of the couch with a huff and then laid down, her head resting against his thigh.

“I’m tired,” she complained, letting out a deep breath. “And my nose is stuffy.”

“I know,” he said, his fingers rubbing her head and running through her hair. “Well, about the stuffy nose anyway.”

“I slept all night. How am I still tired?” she whined and he chuckled again.

“You have a cold, Scully.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned with a frown. “This is all Skinner’s fault. I didn’t want to go to that stupid conference. He made me.”

“Hmm,” Mulder hummed, his fingers rubbing her neck.

“That feels good,” she whispered, her eyes closing.

“Skinner wasn’t sick,” he mused and she sighed heavily.

“No. But someone there was and I got it from them. You didn’t go, so you’re fine.”

“I won’t be in a couple of days, seeing as you brought all the germs with you. This place is ground zero now. The bedroom in particular is highly contaminated.”

“I know. I should’ve gone home,” she admitted with a nod. “I just…”

“I was just teasing,” he said, his thumb pressing firmer into her neck and causing her to moan. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Even though I’ve…” She sniffled deeply and let out a deep breath. “God. Even though I’ve brought the plague upon you?”

“It’s just a cold,” he said, laughing softly.

“Feels worse.”

“You say that every time you’re sick.”

“Because it does. It always does,” she whined, breathing through her mouth as her nose had become far too stuffy.

“I’ll get you some medicine,” he said, scratching her scalp lightly and moving gently from the couch. “You want anything to eat?” She moaned and shook her head. “Tea?” She shook her head again and he chuckled softly. “Okay, just the medicine.”

She nodded as she burrowed into the comforter, finding a more comfortable position.

A kiss was pressed to her temple and she smiled.

“Even full of germs, and wrapped like a mummy, you’re adorable,” he whispered, kissing her again before he left the room.

She smiled and then coughed, groaning as she shook her head. The comforter was pulled even closer and she took a stuffy breath.

“Hey,” Mulder said and she opened her eyes. “Here’s the medicine and some water. You need to sit up to take it and the cough syrup.”

“I hate cough syrup,” she grumbled and he hummed as he helped her sit up.

“I know,” he said, handing her the syringe in his hand.

“You like using this, don’t you?” she asked, putting the syringe in her mouth and pressing the plunger, swallowing the medicine quickly. Making a face, she took a sip of the water he offered.

“I do. I’m glad you gave it to me,” he said, smiling as he handed her two large liquid filled pills. “These should help too.”

She took them and placed them into her mouth, swallowing them with the rest of the water in the glass. Pouting, she handed the glass back to him and then coughed, turning her head to avoid coughing directly on him.

“I’ll get you some more water,” he said as she coughed again. She laid back down with a moan, cursing that stupid conference.

It had been monotonous, uninspiring, and lonely without Mulder with her. And then the last night there, she had felt the telltale signs of a cold brewing as her throat was scratchy when she swallowed.

Waking up to a stuffy nose and achy body, the flight home had been miserable. Hailing a cab, she had given the driver Mulder’s address, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the window.

When she had made her way to his door, her suitcase feeling exceptionally heavy and clumsy, she swayed as she knocked twice and waited.

His happy smile had vanished at the sight of her, concern quickly replacing it.

“I don’t feel so good,” she had said, pitching forward and falling into his arms.

“Aw, Scully,” he had whispered, pulling her and her bag inside.

He had brought her into his room, turned on the shower to warm up, and helped her undress.

While she had been in the shower, he had changed his sheets, found some clothes for her to wear, and made her some tea.

When she had dressed in one of his long sleeved shirts and a pair of cuffed sweatpants with the drawstring pulled as far as it could go, he had sat her down on his bed and blown her hair dry as she moaned repeatedly, her eyes closed.

When he had finished, he brushed her hair and kissed her on the forehead.

“Why don’t you lay down and I’ll go get you some medicine?” he had asked and she had nodded. “Come on, come and lay down.”

He had helped her up and led her to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and then tucking her in once she had laid down, her head pounding.

“I’ll be back soon. Rest.” He had kissed her head twice, ran a hand down her side, and whispered goodbye as he left.

He had woken her to take some medicine, sitting with her until she had fallen back to sleep, stroking her hair as he spoke quietly about his last couple of days without her.

She had woken throughout the night, his arm around her waist or fingers locked with her own, her nose stuffy and head still aching.

“Hey,” he said softly and she opened her eyes, looking up at him. “Do you want some more water? Luckily, I found a bendy straw so now you don’t have to sit up.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, nodding slightly. “I’ll have a little bit. Thank you.” He sat on the coffee table and held the glass and straw for her as she took a few sips.

“Feeling any better at all?” he asked and she sighed as she pulled back from the glass of water.

“Not at the moment,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing again.

“Well, hopefully that medicine will help soon. I brought over another box of tissues and a paper bag for the used ones. Do you need anything else?”

“No, not right now. Thank you,” she said, attempting to breathe through her nose and giving up to take a deep breath through her mouth. “I’m just so tired.”

“Rest, Scully,” he said, kissing her temple again, the glass of water set on the coffee table.

And she did, dozing in and out as he sat on the couch beside her, his fingers in her hair or resting on her shoulder. She heard baseball being announced, the crack of a bat, and organ music playing. Then she heard the dialogue of a movie as she turned over and sighed, the comforter tucked around her when she did.

“Thank you,” she breathed and he hummed as his fingers rubbed her scalp again and she fell back to sleep.

Her bladder woke her and she moaned as she stirred, extricating herself from her comforter cocoon.

“I ordered some food,” Mulder said as she stretched and rolled her neck. “Matzo ball and chicken noodle soup. Waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.”

“That sounds good,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Not sure how much I’ll be able to eat.”

“I know. But you haven’t eaten anything all day. You need something.”

“Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

When she came out of the bedroom, she was wearing one of his hoodies, as she had lost the warmth of the comforter. She had also put on a pair of his thick socks and pulled her hair back into a small ponytail. Yawning, she padded to the dining room and sat down.

A small bowl of matzo ball soup had been placed at her spot, the spoon resting inside of it. She smiled at the sight of the cut up matzo ball, making it easier to eat. Glancing up, she watched him walk in with his own bowl of soup and a plate of sliced bread.

“You cut my matzo ball,” she said with a sniffle as she reached for her spoon.

“Yeah, I did,” he said, setting his stuff down and sitting beside her. “Easier and quicker for you to eat.”

“Thank you,” she said, filling her spoon with broth and a piece of matzo.

They sat in silence as they ate, Scully taking her time to eat as much of the soup as she could.

“I can’t taste any of this,” she said, shaking her head, leaving her spoon down in the bowl. “Not one bit, but I’m sure it’s really good.”

“It is,” he said and she nodded as she pushed the bowl from in front of her.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, watching him finish his bowl of soup. He smiled at her and she smiled back, suddenly overwhelmed with affection for him. “I love you.”

He stopped eating and stared at her, his smile growing.

“I know I’ve told you before, but I just wanted to say it again,” she said, sniffing and letting out a deep breath.

He set his spoon in his bowl and made to move towards her, his hands reaching out.

“No,” she said, putting up a hand. “Contagious, remember?”

“Ground zero, remember?” he asked, his hands now cradling her face as he smiled. “The damage has been done. Therefore, a kiss on the lips won’t cause any harm.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes as his lips met hers.

He kissed her gently, his thumbs slowly rubbing against her cheeks as she hummed again. Needing air, she pulled back slightly and drew in a breath, before his lips were on hers again.

“I love you too,” he whispered, kissing her one more time. Smiling as he pulled back, his thumbs stroking along her cheeks. “Germs and all.”

“Ha ha,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Ugh. I think I need to lay down.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving his hands from her face. “Let me clean this up and get you some more medicine. Then bed.”

She waited at the table for him as he quickly cleaned up. More cough syrup and pills were brought to her along with a glass of ice water. She took it all with only minimal complaints, thanking him with a nod.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

He led her through the apartment, turning the lights off behind them. He grabbed the comforter and followed her into his room.

She went into the bathroom, used the toilet, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth.

Mulder had put the comforter back on the bed and pulled back the covers on her side once again. Waiting while she laid down, he tucked her in and kissed her head.

“Be right back,” he said and she hummed as she closed her eyes.

When he finally laid down, she was nearly asleep, but she opened her eyes to look at him and give him a small smile.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she reached for his hand.

“That’s why you came here, isn’t it?” he asked softly, kissing her knuckles. “Knowing you were ill? Wanting to be cared for?”

“Yes and no,” she said, moving closer to him.

“How’s that?” he asked and she opened her eyes again.

“I missed you. I wanted to see you,” she said, her eyes rolling back as she shut them again. “I didn’t plan on being sick. I just missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Germs and all?” she asked, her words slightly slurred.

“Yes. Germs and all,” he assured her, kissing her forehead and whispering his love for her as she fell asleep, held safely in his arms.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #sickfic #taking care of your partner #common cold #conference away #sleeping late #Sleeping on the couch #tired and achy #medication #chicken soup #matzo ball soup #season 7 #established relationship #comfort food #forehead kisses #gentle kisses #sleeping together

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pixelatedraindrops · 3 months

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My RainCode fic, Under The Weather is officially on my AO3! I made a quick little scribble to promote it a bit further too :3

Poor Yuma can never catch a break with me... ;w;

I altered and added to it so its 2k words longer than what I had in the OG post so...hope you enjoy the little additions I made to it!

This is also my tamest silliest fic as well as it being the only one that has NO SPOILERS. So anyone can give it a read!

Hope you enjoy! ^-^

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 8 months

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Don't Come Crying to Me by happyaspie

Part 17 of Sicktember 2021-2023

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated G || Word Count 3093 || Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Common Cold

Summary: In a moment of exasperation, Tony says to Peter ‘Don’t come crying to me when you get sick’. Peter takes the instructions to heart and a few months later when Tony invites him to help with a mission, he decides to keep the fact he woke up feeling awful under wraps. That goes just about as well as you would expect

@sicktember 2023 Prompts: 4. Hiding an Illness 18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

[Except Below the Cut]

“Hey, Kid. Ready to go?” Tony asked as he stepped inside of the Parker’s small Queens apartment.

“Yep. I'm ready,” Peter replied, already shouldering a backpack and an overnight bag.

Tony chuckled as he watched the kid try to lean down and balance it all while simultaneously tying his shoes. He turned the door the moment Peter was upright again and did a double take.

“Where’s your coat?” He asked.

Peter shrugged and gently tugged at the strings trailing over his chest. “I have a hoodie,” he said as if that was sufficient enough for the middle of a New York winter.

“It’s 30 degrees and snowing,” Tony incredulously stated.

Peter continued to hover by the door without moving toward the nearby coat closet. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark. I’m just walking to your car. I’ll only be outside for like two seconds.”

Tony blinked a few times as he tried to wrap his brain around the teenage logic. When he couldn’t come to any kind of a reasonable conclusion he rolled his eyes. “Oh for Christ’s sake, kid,” he sighed. “Just wear your coat. You’re going to catch a cold.”

Peter wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes in mild defiance. “I don’t think that’s how it actually works, Mr. Stark,” he said. And Tony, knowing the kid was right but unwilling to admit it, let it go.

“Whatever,” he flippantly replied. “Just don’t come crying to me when you get sick”

“I'm not going to get sick,” Peter immediately shot back.

“Well, when you do,” Tony replied, already turning his back to walk out the door. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

That was the end of the discussion. The moment they got into the car Tony flipped on the seat warmers and turned the heat up to the max setting. It was efficient and soon the entire car was filled with warmth. To the point that by the time they’d reached the climate-controlled garage at the tower, they were both starting to sweat.

[Continue reading on AO3]

#sicktember 2023 #happyaspie writing #peter parker #tony stark #common cold #sick peter parker #spider-man #iron man #mcu #marvel #irondad and spiderson #irondad

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jazzyrazzy157 · 2 months

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This is kind of bonkers, but I’m satisfied with the end result

#codename kids next door #knd #knd villains #knd ocs #knd au #knd father #mr boss #mr wink and mr fibb #stickybeard #count spankulot #knd toiletnator #knightbrace #common cold #grandma stuffum #crazy old cat lady #soccer mom #mr.fizz

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ellidena · 1 year

Photo

#digital art #illustration #fanart #mairimashita! iruma kun #mairuma #irumakun #iruma suzuki #gaap goemon #opera-san #momonoki #lord sullivan #sullivan #cold #blanket #pillows #work from home #common cold #computer desk

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bultaoreunheyyy · 2 months

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Hyung has a cold

Title: Hyung has a cold

Word count: 2275

Summary: Jungkook gets a new place and has everyone over for a small housewarming get together.

Sickie: Yoongi (cold)

Caretaker: Everyone else

A/N: Unedited. A short exploration of Yoongi having a cold but it not being a big deal + and some soft, casual comfort/caretaking from the others.

“Welcome to Jungkookie’s new house!”

Taehyung’s already two glasses of wine deep, and when he greets Hoseok and Yoongi at the front door, his cheeks are rosy red and there’s a small, unidentifiable stain on the front of his shirt.

“Um, thanks,” Hoseok chuckles as he steps inside. “Where’s Jungkookie, though?”

“He’s in the kitchen bein’ a good host and getting Jimin and Namjoon a drink. So I’m answering the door.” Taehyung replies. He hiccups, then frowns slightly. “Wait, did we do it wrong? Should I make him answer the door while I get drinks for the guests?”

Hoseok full-on laughs at that, one hand slapping his knee and the other reaching out to clutch at the front of Taehyung’s shirt. Taehyung looks both delighted and alarmed at the outburst of laughter, and he shuffles closer to Hoseok with a wide smile and even wider eyes.

Behind Hoseok, Yoongi can’t help but roll his eyes, but he’s also smiling despite the headache that’s already creeping in behind his eyes. He gently nudges Hoseok forward so they can both get into the house, and then he closes the door behind him, shivering once they’re in the warmth of the spacious entryway of Jungkook’s brand new home. He can tell the heater is on to combat the cold winter weather outside, but he’s still cold from the short journey from the car to the house even though he’s wearing a pair of thick sweatpants and two layers of sweatshirts– a hoodie zipped up over another hoodie– underneath his winter jacket. The only thing that’s truly warm is his face, and that’s either the slight fever he’s pretty sure he’s running or the heat from his own breath trapped inside of the facemask he’s wearing over his mouth and nose.

Hoseok shrugs his jacket off and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall. He turns to Yoongi and motions for his jacket next, only half listening to Taehyung as he describes the drink-heavy contents of Jungkook’s refrigerator.

Jimin appears then, followed by Namjoon and Jungkook, and he nudges Taehyung aside so he can pull Hoseok in for a hug.

“Hi, Hoseokie-hyung! Hi, Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook greets them, his own drink in hand. “Come in and I’ll give you a tour!”

Taehyung cups a hand around his mouth and leans close to Jungkook’s ear. “Don’t forget to ask them if they want a drink first,” he whispers, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear. Jungkook nods seriously before turning to the two newest arrivals.

“Can I offer you a drink? I have soju, beer, whiskey, wine…uh, vodka? Tequila? Oh, and I have juice and milk, too!”

“I’ll get something after the tour, Jungkookie,” Hoseok says. “I want to see everything first!”

“Okay. Yoongi-hyung?”

Yoongi tucks his hands into his hoodie pockets and shakes his head. “I’ll wait, too,” he says, wincing when he hears how hoarse his voice sounds.

“He didn’t want to get out of bed. Please excuse his outfit,” Hoseok sighs, waving vaguely at Yoongi’s sweatpants-double-hoodie combo.

“You didn’t want to come?” Taehyung asks, lower lip jutting out dramatically. “Why not?”

Yoongi sighs, and immediately regrets it when the rush of air makes his throat and sinuses tickle in what’s sure to result very soon in a cough or a sneeze, or both. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all.” It turns out that the tickle is more in his throat, so he coughs as soon as he’s done talking, ducking his head down as he raises an arm up to cover his mouth with his sleeve even though he’s wearing his mask.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s eyes go wide. He gently pats Yoongi on the back. “I’ll make you a separate plate tonight, hyung. Do you want some hot tea?”

Jimin, ever the worry-er about germs, points to the pump bottle of hand sanitizer that Jungkook has by the shoe rack before Yoongi can even answer the question. “Everyone, sanitize and shoes off!” He turns to Yoongi. “Hyung, come sit in the living room. I’ll get you a blanket.”

Yoongi barely has time to slip his shoes off before Jimin is guiding him towards the living room with a hand on the small of his back. He sniffles behind his facemask and lets Jimin push him down into the plush new recliner in the far corner of the room, smiling a little when the younger man tucks a throw blanket that still has a tag on it around his shoulders before reclining the chair for him until his feet are propped up. Then, Jimin disappears without a word, but soon returns with a box of tissues and a second blanket, something soft with a bright geometric pattern on it.

“Kook has a billion more blankets, if you need another,” he says as he sets the blanket and then the tissues in Yoongi’s lap. “I’ll go get started on some tea.”

Just like that, Yoongi is left alone in the living room. He unhooks the facemask from his ears and uses a tissue to blow his nose, groaning softly to himself at how stuffed up suddenly feels despite having the runniest nose known to man on the journey over. Listening to the others get a tour of Jungkook’s house, Yoongi is grateful for the distance from all the noise, and he’s touched that Jimin was thoughtful enough to bring him a second blanket and tissues before leaving him here in the quiet of the living room.

Spreading the second blanket out over his lap, he lets his head fall back against the headrest of the recliner and closes his eyes, attempting to do a mental calculation of what time he’ll need to take more of the medicine he brought along with him. It’s in his pocket, he’s pretty sure. Or maybe Hoseok had it in his pocket?

Maybe he forgot it at home…

He’s supposed to take the medicine every…four hours? Six? Huh…

No, four hours…

He’s pretty sure…

Four…

“Hyung?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize he has dozed off until a gentle hand is shaking his shoulder.

“Hyung?”

It’s Jimin, peering down at him with an expression that’s too serious and too worried for Yoongi’s liking.

“Ah,” he croaks. He clears his throat and sits up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He wipes a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and frowns at how chapped his lips feel.

“Everyone’s here now,” Jimin tells him quietly. “We’re gonna eat.”

Yoongi nods and starts to shift so he can stand up, but Jimin’s hand is on his shoulder. “You can stay here. We’ll eat out here.”

Yoongi can’t really imagine that Jungkook wants them all to eat in his nice clean new living room and risk spilling something, but he doesn’t say anything, and already everyone is filing in carrying assorted dishes and drinks that they set on the low coffee table. They’re all loud as fuck together and Yoongi has no clue how he fell asleep with all the ruckus.

Seokjin is last, and he isn’t carrying anything, just walking beside Jungkook and smiling proudly at him. He looks over Yoongi, now curled up under both blankets in the recliner, and frowns.

“Hyung has a cold,” Taehyung informs him before he can say anything.

“Ah,” Seokjin replies. “Sorry to hear that, Yoon.”

Yoongi just nods and swallows back an ill-timed cough. The others are crowding around the coffee table, already using chopsticks to grab bites of and serve themselves heaping servings of meat and noodles and banchan, and Seokjin gives Yoongi a sympathetic smile before joining them on the floor.

Jungkook loads a little bit of everything onto a pretty blue plate and brings it over. “Here, hyung,” he says, offering the dish proudly. “Do you need anything else? More tea? Water?”

Yoongi has to clear his throat several times before he can get words out. He takes the plate and eyes the mug of tea on the table next to him that someone must have brought him while he was asleep. ‘No, Jungkookie. I’ve still got some tea left. Thank you, this looks delicious.”

Jungkook beams and nods his head before he turns around to watch the others.

Yoongi feels the same pride he saw on Seokjin’s face just minutes earlier, warming his chest and making him smile. He reaches out to pat Jungkook’s hip. “You did a great job, Kook,” he says. “It tastes great.”

Jungkook turns back to him and his cheeks are pink. He doesn’t even notice that Yoongi hasn’t actually eaten any of it yet. “I just watched a few YouTube videos. It was easy to learn, really. And of course, I’ve learned a lot from you and Seokjin-hyung over the years, and–”

“Go eat,” Yoongi interrupts, nudging Jungkook back toward the table.

As soon as Jungkook sits down, though, he jumps back up. “Oh! I forgot the steak. Be right back.”

When he returns, Jungkook sets the plate of steak on the table and then cranes his neck to look at Yoongi. “Hyung, do you want to try some?” He snags a hefty piece of the meat with his chopsticks and cups his hand underneath to prevent anything from dropping to the floor as he carries it over. He pauses in front of Yoongi, halfway to feeding him directly from his own utensils before he realizes the potential for germ-sharing and sets it down on his plate instead.

Yoongi coughs into his fist and then smiles fondly up at Jungkook. “Thanks, Kook.”

Jungkook spends most of the meal hovering, watching everyone eat, chewing nervously on his lip until he sees that everyone likes everything. The food disappears quickly and soon, there isn’t much left.

“Great job on the steak,” Namjoon compliments him.

“I need your recipe for the kimchi jjigae,” Jimin says.

“The makguksu is so good, Jungkookie,” Hoseok gushes. “Is there any more left?”

Taehyung serves him more makguksi\u and then looks around the table. “Who else wants more?”

Yoongi clears his throat. “I could go for some more.” He doesn’t miss the way Jungkook grins at him, a pleased flush on his cheeks.

“Give me your plate,” Taehyung says, motioning with his hands, then thinks better of it and grabs the serving dish instead. He carries the whole thing over to the recliner and spoons some of the food onto Yoongi’s plate.

While they finish the last of their meal, Jimin makes his way into the kitchen to help refill drinks. He gets Yoongi more tea and sweetly kisses the top of his head after delivering it, leaning down next to him. “How are you doing, hyung?” He asks. “Need anything else?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

After dinner, they decide to watch a movie on Jungkook’s new massive TV.

Everyone curls up on the couch together except for Yoongi, who returns to the recliner after a quick bathroom break. He huddles under his two blankets, feeling full and sleepy and finally warm, and he’s almost certain that he won’t make it through the entire movie without falling asleep.

Sure enough, he finds himself being shaken awake for the second time that night and looks to see that the end credits are rolling on the screen. He feels stuffy and his headache is a little worse, and he scrubs the sleep out of his eyes with a fist.

“We should get going.” Hoseok has a hand on his shoulder.

“Hyung, you look so sleepy,” Namjoon comments, running his fingers gently through Yoongi’s hair. “I hope you’re able to get some good rest tonight.”

Yoongi nods, then yawns, and then coughs. He pushes the blankets off, shivering at the loss of warmth, and puts his facemask on. It seems that he and Hoseok are the first to leave, but he’s too tired to be apologetic about it and he’s grateful that Hoseok is in good spirits about it.

“Bye, hyungs!” Jungkook grabs their coats for them while everyone says their goodbyes and well wishes for Yoongi’s cold to go away soon.

Before they leave, Jungkook hugs Hoseok, and then, unable to help himself, wraps Yoongi up in a warm hug too, tucking his face against his neck until Jimin pulls them apart.

“Hyung has a cold!” Jimin scolds, as if they’ve all forgotten already.

“Hyung needs a hug because he has a cold,” is Jungkook’s excuse.

Yoongi rolls his eyes fondly and shuffles over to the door before anyone else gets the urge to hug him.

“I’d rather catch a cold than not get hyung-hugs,” Jungkook is grumbling, and he frowns until Jimn and Taehyung attack him at once, pinching his cheeks and tickling his sides.

“Bye! Thanks for hosting us, Jungkookie!” Hoseok says, and then he’s tugging Yoongi out the door and into the cool evening air.

When they get to the car, Hoseok turns the heat up as high as it will go and silently pats Yoongi’s leg as he buckles his seat belt.

“That was fun,” Yoongi says around a yawn halfway into their drive. “Can’t believe Jungkook’s place is nicer than ours.”

Hoseok barks out a laugh and nods in agreement. He turns on the radio, and Yoongi rests his head against the window, reveling in how good the cool glass feels against his cheek. His throat is scratchy and he has to cough a few times until the irritation goes away, but it’s not really so bothersome now that he knows he’s on his way to his own bed.

Yoongi closes his eyes and falls asleep before they get home.

#bts sickfic #sickfic #sick bts #sick yoongi #bts hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #common cold #caretaker seokjin #caretaker jungkook #caretaker taehyung #caretaker jimin #caretaker namjoon #caretaker hoseok #bts au #cough

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