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Hao doesn’t tell anyone he feels sick.
He wakes before his alarm, throat aching, head heavy, the kind of exhaustion that sits deep in his bones. The dorm is quiet at this hour… way too quiet. He lies still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, convincing himself he can push through it. He always does.
By the time he makes it to the kitchen, his hands are shaking.
The kettle whistles too loudly. Hao winces, turning it off too fast, sloshing hot water over the edge of the mug. He barely notices. He leans against the counter, breathing slowly, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
“Hao Hyung?”
Hanbin’s voice is soft, careful, like he already knows the answer.
Hao straightens immediately. “Good morning Hanbinie”
Hanbin studies him for a moment. He doesn’t say anything right away. He just reaches out, touches Hao’s wrist.
“You’re warm” Hanbin says quietly.
“I didn’t sleep much” Hao replies.
Hanbin doesn’t argue. He just nods, gesturing at the mug in Hao’s hand. “Drink first”
They sit in silence. No alarms. No other members yet. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the faint light creeping through the window.
It’s peaceful.
But as always, the peace doesn’t last.
⸻
Rehearsal is where it becomes impossible to hide.
Hao messes up once. Then again. He laughs it off, apologizes, resets. No one makes a big deal out of it.
Except Hanbin.
After the third missed step, Hanbin catches his elbow. Not enough to stop him, just enough to steady him.
“Sit down hyung” Hanbin murmurs.
Hao hesitates. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me”
Hanbin meets his eyes. There’s no force there. Just concern. “Please”
Hao sits.
That’s it. No announcement. No panic. The practice continues without him. Hao watches from the side, wrapped in his hoodie, heart sinking with equal parts relief and shame.
Later, when the room empties, Hanbin comes back with a water bottle and a thermometer.
“You have a fever” he says.
Hao exhales. “I thought so”
Hanbin doesn’t scold him. He just says, “Let’s go back to the dorm”
⸻
The dorm feels different when Hao returns early.
Too quiet. Too still.
Hanbin helps him into bed, tucks the blanket around his shoulders, places his phone on the nightstand within reach.
“I’ll be in the living room” Hanbin says. “Please call me if you need anything”
Hao nods.
The door closes softly.
For a long time, Hao just lies there, listening to the muffled sounds of the dorm going about its day without him.
That’s when it hits him. The loneliness. The guilt. The fear that he’s falling behind.
He turns his face into the pillow and lets himself feel it.
⸻
He doesn’t know when sleep overtakes him. His eyes flutter open when he heard someone knocking gently before peeking in. “Hey haohao”
Hao pushes himself up slightly. “Hyung”
Jiwoong sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd him. He sets a small bag down.
“Want some soup?” Jiwoong says. “Your mom’s recipe. Hanbin asked her”
Hao’s chest tightens. “She knows?”
“She does now” Jiwoong says gently. “She was worried, but grateful”
Jiwoong doesn’t stay long. He squeezes Hao’s shoulder once before leaving.
It feels intentional. Respectful.
⸻
That night is worse.
Night falls gently over the dorm.
Hao wakes to darkness and pain.
Not sharp… just everywhere. His joints ache, skin oversensitive, throat burning every time he swallows. The room feels too warm, air heavy against his lungs. He shifts weakly, blanket tangled around his legs, frustration bubbling up in his chest.
He hates this part the most.
The part where everything starts to reach its peak.
“Hyung?”
Hanbin’s voice comes from the doorway, barely above a whisper.
Hao turns his head slowly. Hanbin steps inside, careful, like he’s afraid of startling him. He’s changed into soft clothes, hair still damp from a shower, worry written plainly across his face.
“I didn’t mean to wake you” Hanbin says.
“It’s okay” Hao murmurs. His voice sounds wrong to his own ears. Too thin.
Hanbin sits on the edge of the bed, not touching him yet. “How are you feeling?”
Hao considers lying. The words stick in his throat.
“Bad” he admits instead.
Hanbin nods, like he expected that answer. He reaches out then, brushing the back of his fingers over Hao’s cheek.
“You’re really warm” he says quietly. “Can I check your temperature again?”
Hao nods.
Hanbin moves with unhurried care, like time has slowed just for them. When he frowns at the thermometer, he doesn’t say the number out loud.
“I’ll stay tonight” Hanbin says simply.
“You don’t have to” Hao replies automatically.
Hanbin meets his eyes. “I really want to”
Something in Hao’s chest tightens. He turns his face away, blinking fast.
Hanbin doesn’t push. He just settles beside him, close enough that Hao can feel the warmth of him, solid and real.
⸻
Then midnight hit. the devil’s hour.
Hao wakes gasping, heart racing, sheets damp with sweat. His head feels too big for his body, thoughts slippery and unfocused. Panic rises before he can stop it.
“I can’t- breathe-” he tries, voice breaking.
Hanbin is there instantly.
“Hey Hao hyung” Hanbin says, hands steady but panicked as he helps Hao sit up. “You’re okay gege, I’ve got you”
He hadn’t clearly heard what Hanbin had called him, but surely he felt it. Hao clutches at his shirt, fingers trembling. “I feel weird”
“I know hyung” Hanbin murmurs. He presses his forehead briefly to Hao’s temple, grounding. “You’re safe. Breathe with me”
They breathe together. Slow. In. Out.
Hao’s body shakes despite the warmth, teeth chattering softly. Hanbin pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, then hesitates before wrapping an arm around him, giving him the option to pull away.
Hao doesn’t.
He leans in, forehead pressing against Hanbin’s shoulder, exhaustion finally breaking through the last of his defenses.
“I don’t like this bingbing” Hao whispers, voice thick. “I don’t like people seeing me like this at all”
Hanbin’s arm tightens just slightly. “You don’t look as weak as you feel Hao hyung”
Hao lets out a shaky laugh that turns into something dangerously close to a sob.
“Don’t hold back your tears gege” Hanbin says without hesitation. “You aren’t obligated to be the strong one everytime”
Hao goes still.
No one has ever said that to him so plainly.
His breath stutters, and then the tears came. Quiet, embarrassed, slipping into Hanbin’s shirt. Hanbin doesn’t react beyond holding him closer, hand warm at the back of his neck, thumb tracing slow, grounding circles.
They stay like that until Hao’s shaking eases and sleep drags him under again.
⸻
Morning arrives slowly.
Hao wakes to soft light and the murmur of voices outside his door. His body still aches, but the sharp edge is gone, replaced by a heavy, drained calm.
He shifts and realizes Hanbin is asleep beside him, half-curled toward him, arm still around his waist like he never let go.
Hao freezes.
Then, carefully, he relaxes.
The door opens quietly.
“Shh” someone whispers.
Hao lifts his head slightly. Jiwoong stands in the doorway with Taerae behind him, both peeking in.
“How is he?” Taerae whispers to Jiwoong.
Hanbin stirs but doesn’t wake.
Hao clears his throat softly. “I’m okay”
Jiwoong smiles gently. “Good. Don’t talk too much”
He sets a small bag down on the desk. “Your mom’s on her way later. Manager-nim knows. Everything’s handled”
Hao blinks. “My mom…?”
“She was very worried” Jiwoong says kindly. “But she sounded relieved Hanbin was with you”
Taerae gives a small wave. “We’ll let you rest.”
They leave as quietly as they came.
Hao lies back down, staring at the ceiling, heart doing something strange and tight in his chest.
⸻
His mom arrives in the afternoon.
Hao hears her voice before he sees her…soft, familiar, threading through the dorm like warmth. When she steps into the room, her eyes immediately soften.
“Oh baobei” she says, crossing to him. “My poor baobao”
She presses a cool hand to his forehead, clicks her tongue quietly. “You’ve lost so much weight”
Hao manages a weak smile while holding back tears after hearing his mom speak in his mother tongue. “Hi mama”
Hanbin stands when she enters, bowing slightly. “Auntie”
She looks at him for a long moment. Then she reaches out and squeezes his arm. “Thank you so much for taking care of my haohao, bingbing”
Hanbin’s throat tightens. “Of course auntie”
Hanbin’s mom arrives shortly after, bringing soup and medicine, her presence calm and grounding. She checks Hao with practiced ease, murmuring reassurances.
“He’ll be okay” she says firmly but with practiced choppy korean “But he needs rest. Actual proper rest”
Hao’s mom sighs. “He never knows when to stop even back home”
Hao closes his eyes, pretending not to hear.
⸻
That evening, the dorm is quieter than usual.
No loud games. No music. Members pass by Hao’s room gently, peeking in one by one. Gyuvin dropping off a plushie with an awkward cough, Yujin whispering a too-loud “get well soon” Ricky leaving fresh pajamas on the chair without comment.
Each visit is brief. Thoughtful. Spaced.
When it’s just Hao and Hanbin again, Hao finally speaks.
“You didn’t leave” he says softly.
Hanbin looks at him. “I told you I wouldn’t”
Hao swallows. “You could’ve”
Hanbin sits beside him, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t want to leave you hyung”
The silence between them feels full now, not empty.
Hao exhales slowly. “I don’t say thank you enough”
Hanbin smiles, small and warm. “You don’t have to”
Hao’s fingers brush Hanbin’s hand. This time, neither of them pulls away.
Outside, the dorm hums quietly with life. Inside, Hao rests…really rests for the first time in a long while.
And Hanbin stays.