Chapter 13: 12. Sickness

The next day, Xia Fei went to work as usual. The studio was bustling with activity—stylists running around, cameras flashing, and assistants shouting instructions over the noise. He slipped into his routine effortlessly, striking poses and flashing smiles, but something felt... off.

Vein wasn’t there.

It wasn’t like he needed to be—after all, he had his own work, and it wasn’t unusual for him to miss a shoot. But after weeks of him being practically glued to Xia Fei’s side, his absence was noticeable.

Maybe he finally got bored of watching me work, Xia Fei thought, but the idea didn’t sit right with him.

Throughout the day, his phone remained frustratingly silent. No check-in texts. No smug remarks. Nothing. By the time the shoot wrapped up, Xia Fei found himself scrolling through his contacts, debating whether to send a quick message—just to check.

But before he could decide, his phone buzzed.

Vein: “Come over.”

Xia Fei blinked. “Huh?” He hesitated, then another message followed.

Vein: “I feel like hell. Fever. Company would be nice.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Vein? Sick? That was new. The guy seemed almost untouchable—always composed, always in control. Xia Fei quickly called him.

Vein’s voice was rough and sluggish when he picked up. “Hey.”

Xia Fei frowned. “You sound terrible.”

“Thanks,” Vein muttered. “Feel worse.”

Xia Fei glanced at the time and immediately grabbed his coat. “Hold on, I’ll be there soon.”

---

On his way to Vein’s penthouse, Xia Fei stopped by a nearby store, grabbing fever medicine, some electrolyte drinks, and a small bag of instant porridge. He’d never seen Vein vulnerable before, and the idea of him lying in bed sick made Xia Fei strangely uneasy.

As he reached the penthouse and punched in the code Vein had given him before, the door unlocked with a soft beep.

Inside, the place felt... different. Usually pristine and meticulously organized, it now had an air of neglect. A few empty water bottles lay scattered on the coffee table, and Vein’s jacket was haphazardly tossed onto the couch.

Xia Fei walked toward the bedroom, pushing the door open slightly. “Hey, I—”

Vein was lying in bed, eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, and skin flushed with fever. He turned his head weakly and gave Xia Fei a lopsided smile. “Hey.”

Xia Fei sighed, walking over and placing the medicine and drinks on the nightstand. “You look awful.”

Vein chuckled lowly, voice hoarse. “Your bedside manner needs work.”

Ignoring the jab, Xia Fei pressed the back of his hand against Vein’s forehead, feeling the heat radiating off him. “You’re burning up.”

Vein hummed. “That bad?”

“Idiot,” Xia Fei muttered, ripping open the medicine box and pouring a glass of water. “Here, take this.”

Vein obediently took the pills and drank the water, his fingers brushing Xia Fei’s briefly. A small, tired smirk tugged at his lips. “Didn’t expect you to come rushing over.”

Xia Fei scoffed, avoiding his gaze. “What, you think I’d just leave you to die?”

Vein leaned back against the pillows, watching him with a half-lidded gaze. “Honestly? Wasn’t sure.”

Xia Fei didn’t respond, busying himself by arranging the things he brought. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and crossed his arms. “Don’t get used to this. I’m only here because I don’t want to deal with you nagging me later.”

Vein chuckled but didn’t argue. He looked exhausted, eyes fluttering shut occasionally as the fever weighed him down.

After a moment of silence, Xia Fei hesitated. “...Why’d you call me?”

Vein opened one eye, looking at him lazily. “Felt like I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Xia Fei blinked. That was... surprisingly honest. He cleared his throat, leaning back in the chair. “Well, enjoy it while it lasts.”

A soft hum of agreement came from Vein before his breathing evened out, drifting into sleep.

Xia Fei watched him for a moment, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Seeing Vein like this—uncharacteristically weak, stripped of his usual confidence—was unsettling. But at the same time, it made Xia Fei feel... trusted.

With a sigh, he sat back, scrolling through his phone to kill time while keeping an eye on the sleeping figure in front of him.

---

Hours later, Vein stirred, eyes cracking open to find Xia Fei still sitting there, head resting on his hand.

“You’re still here,” Vein murmured.

Xia Fei yawned. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own tongue.”

Vein huffed a quiet laugh. “Touching.”

Xia Fei rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Get some rest, boss.”

Vein didn’t reply, but a small, satisfied smile lingered on his lips as he drifted back to sleep.

Xia Fei sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Idiot,” he muttered, but he didn’t leave.

___

*Next morning*

Vein stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep as he felt a comforting warmth beside him. Turning his head slightly, his gaze fell upon Xia Fei, soundly asleep on the other side of the bed.

His face was relaxed, his chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. There was something strangely peaceful about the way Xia Fei looked right now—without his usual attitude, complaining about everything and everyone.

For a moment, Vein simply watched him, a quiet hum escaping his lips.

So... he cares about me this much, Vein thought to himself, a small smirk playing at his lips.

Before he could stop himself, his fingers moved on their own, brushing gently against Xia Fei's cheek. His skin was warm under his touch, and for a split second, Vein wondered what he was doing. But the moment ended too soon.

Xia Fei stirred, blinking his sleepy eyes open. As he registered what was happening—Vein's hand still lingering on his cheek—his entire face flushed a deep shade of red.

“W-What are you doing?” Xia Fei stammered, his voice groggy but unmistakably flustered.

Vein chuckled, withdrawing his hand lazily. “You looked cute. Couldn’t help myself.”

Xia Fei groaned, rubbing his eyes and trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “You're unbelievable.”

Vein stretched, sitting up slightly, and Xia Fei’s embarrassment was quickly replaced by concern. “Feeling any better?” he asked, leaning closer to check Vein’s temperature with the back of his hand.

Vein hummed in content, feeling much better now. “Yeah... thanks to you.” Before Xia Fei could react, Vein suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face in Xia Fei’s hair. “Seriously... thanks.”

Xia Fei froze, eyes wide. His brain struggled to process what was happening—Vein's firm grip around him, the way his fingers ruffled through his hair, and the warmth radiating from him.

“…V-Vein?” Xia Fei stuttered, his hands awkwardly hovering in the air before hesitantly patting Vein’s back. “O-okay, enough of that.”

Vein chuckled, his voice still slightly hoarse but filled with amusement. “Why? You’re warm. It’s nice.”

Xia Fei groaned, face burning, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re acting weird…”

“Blame the fever,” Vein muttered, his voice muffled against Xia Fei’s shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Xia Fei sighed. “So... what made you sick in the first place?”

Vein loosened his hold slightly but didn’t let go. “Overworked myself,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “More dirty work came up than usual. Didn’t realize how exhausted I was until it hit me after I got home.”

Xia Fei sighed again, his hand instinctively reaching up to comb through Vein’s messy hair. “Idiot… Don't overwork yourself like that, boss.” His voice was softer now, a mix of concern and exasperation.

Vein smirked against his shoulder. “You keep calling me that, but you’re the one bossing me around.”

Xia Fei rolled his eyes but didn't pull away, letting the moment linger. Despite the awkwardness and the heat rising in his cheeks, there was a strange sense of comfort in being so close to Vein.

"Just take it easy, okay?" Xia Fei mumbled, finally pulling away slightly.

Vein let him go, eyes locking onto Xia Fei's face with an unreadable expression. "I’ll try."

There was an odd silence between them before Xia Fei quickly stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. "I'll make some breakfast. You should eat something."

Vein leaned back against the pillows, watching him with that ever-present smirk. "Make sure it’s not instant noodles again."

Xia Fei huffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "No promises."

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Vein leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling oddly at ease. Maybe being taken care of wasn’t so bad after all.