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The decision had been his from the start. From the moment Dr. Baek was laid over the bed, oxygen mask over his face, Yang Jae-won knew. Even before he felt his coat being grabbed at, even before he heard Dr. Baek’s words—before all of that, he knew. He was aware of the decision that fell into his hands.
It's the lead surgeon’s decision.
Yang Jae-won held onto the bed with precision, doing what he had been doing for what felt like ages, now. Dr. Han and Nurse Cheon followed along, both trained for the situation—but, somehow, he felt awfully lonely. Eyes trained at the hospital’s layout; he couldn’t help but to have hundreds of thoughts swelling in his mind. The decision weighed heavily on his body and he couldn’t help but to feel like crying.
He was alone, now.
Dr. Han kept on going about a CT scan—but his mind was elsewhere. His mind was replaying all the memories he’s built alongside Dr. Baek; all the moments he’d been dragged along by the scruff, like a kitten, thrown into surgery procedures he’s never even read about. In his mind, he could almost hear the faint voice of Dr. Baek—
“No. 1, why are you hesitating? This is not the time to hesitate,” the voice chastised him. Jae-won bit his lip and felt himself drowning in what could be mere hallucination or memories—at this point, he isn’t even sure. “Get your shit together, No. 1!”
—Yang Jae-won pulled onto the bed towards the right. Decision made on the spot, but deep down, he’d always known. He knew he’d follow in Dr. Baek’s steps and do what felt proper to the occasion. In the back of his mind, he kept on reviewing what he knew about the patient’s conditions and the possible outcomes. Deep down he knew what had to be done. And if he stopped to do a CT scan, he’d lose the precious golden hour.
“Prepare the OR,” he screamed out of his lungs, carrying the bed almost by himself. Nurse Cheon was quick to follow, while Dr. Han was dragged against his will.
His decision wasn’t exactly conventional—he knew that. But he couldn’t afford to lose more time. He needed to do what he’d been learning all of these months. Dr. Baek is put onto the bed inside the OR, the nurses fussing over the common procedures while Yank Jae-won scrubbed his hands and arms profusely. The decision was made—there was no doubt in it; he wasn’t exactly confident, but he just couldn’t wait until he felt confident with his skills. He’d do it regardless of whatever anyone said—regardless of Dr. Han’s opinion, regardless of Dr. Park’s clear discomfort with the decision to jump into surgery without knowing where the scraps of metal even were.
A deep breath in, then out.
“Scalpel,” and he makes the incision.
The waiting was, in his opinion, worse than the actual surgery. Of course, during said surgery Jae-won was absolutely terrified, but he couldn’t even process what he felt—adrenaline and about months of practice kicking in and blocking any unnecessary feelings.
But this…
Yang Jae-won sat beside his patient’s bed. Vitals were stable and the surgery was a success, but Dr. Baek wouldn’t wake up for a while. He knew that—he knew it, but he couldn’t help but to sit by his mentor, bite his lip and feel restless.
Dr. Baek’s face looked peaceful—body still under the effects of the anaesthesia and painkillers. For the first time he was seeing Baek Kang-hyuk properly sleeping. Usually, Jae-won would pass out in their bunkbed, not paying attention to his colleague and mentor, and then, he’d be woken up by the same man. He’d never seen Dr. Baek sleep—not even nap. He’d never seen the man so still.
It scared him.
“Dr. Baek,” he muttered quietly. “Hey, Dr. Baek—wake up,” he said a bit louder.
It was all in vain, of course. Dr. Park himself had warned that Dr. Baek would stay sleeping for about five hours—of which, yes, he could wake up, but he’d be most likely tired and fall right back asleep due to medication. It bothered him—it bothered him because he knew Dr. Park was correct and he’d seen it in many patients before.
Jae-won’s eyes roamed over Dr. Baek’s resting body. Vitals were good, there was no reason to fuss over. But he waned to be sure—he wanted to guarantee it. Hesitantly, he reaches towards Dr. Baek—slow and apprehensive, but desperate. His hand grasps at the man’s arm—fingers covering the tattoo he’d already engraved deep into his brain.
Warm.
Not dead.
A sigh escapes his lips and he can’t help but to almost deflate in relief. Head slumping over, his free hand taking his glasses away so he could properly massage his nose bridge. Dr. Baek was alive. He’d done it. He’d performed the surgery perfectly.
It's then that his phone starts to vibrate. With a deep breath, he straightens up his back, sitting upright.
“Wake up soon, Dr. Baek,” Jae-won squeezes at his mentor’s arm, hoping he’d get the message.
There’s another patient he needs to take care of—he can’t just leisurely stay in Dr. Baek’s room and not work. He has lives to save.
There was a call—Nurse Cheon had merely told him to come to Dr. Baek’s room. No other explanations. It gave him a chill across his body—hair standing up as his stomach drops drastically and he finally thinks—
This is it.
But Nurse Cheon’s tone isn’t sad, nor is it desperate and hurried. It’s neutral—awfully so. It reminds him of when Cheon Jang-mi had called him lying about Dr. Baek calling him to the rooftop. Almost mischievous—hiding the mirth behind a professional tone that only she could muster.
That on itself made him feel relieved. But there was still the possibility that, perhaps, something went wrong. That maybe—on the off-chance that he’d done the surgery wrong—the burn was back to spreading across Dr. Baek’s organs; he wondered if, by the time he arrived at his room, Dr. Baek’s abdomen would have necrosis all over his skin.
With a shake of his head, Jae-won ran through the hospital’s layout. Running like he did whenever there was a patient in need of attention—running like he’d always done.
When he gets to where Dr. Baek is, he finds Dr. Han, Nurse Cheon, Dr. Park and a couple of other nurses—none of them look grim or hesitant. They look happy. Yang Jae-won’s body almost goes lax in relief—but he holds himself up. Instead, he looks around his team—because that was his team—and quietly wonders what is even happening.
“What is it?” He’s panting, out of breath, but he needs to know.
Dr. Han is smiling like he’s won the lottery, “there you are.”
“Why aren’t you going in?” He asks, confused.
“The lead surgeon should be the first to check in,” Dr. Han smiles, placing a hand over his arm in a comforting manner, before pulling him along.
That’s right. He had been the lead surgeon—he did it. He had been the one opening Dr. Baek up and making sure the man didn’t die right in his hands. The thought made him anxious—scared all over again; but now he was also scared of meeting Dr. Baek. Scared of meeting up with the man he looked up to through months, only to be met with disapproving eyes. He was afraid he’d failed him. He was afraid his work wasn’t enough—
Jae-won was stiff, but he followed Dr. Han’s guiding hand. With a firm nod, he taps on the button to open the sliding door, leaving his team behind. He quietly peeps into the room, popping his head out of the curtains, before letting himself in. He doesn’t dare look up—
You’ve made a mistake, Yang Jae-won.
—but soon he is being forced to. Because Dr. Baek is up—he’s up and sitting in his bed when he, most definitely, should not because he’d just stitched the man’s abdomen a couple of hours ago. And yet—despite the washing worry that goes through his limbs, despite it all, he gasps in surprise and relief all at the same time. Because Dr. Baek is alive.
There are many things he wants to ask, many things he needs to do—like check in with his patient and check his vitals. But, for the time being, he is speechless.
“Dr. Baek, are you alright?” A quiet question comes out.
“What happened to the fire victim?” Dr. Baek isn’t even looking at him—he isn’t even greeting him properly. The man is already sitting with a tablet in hands checking over the patients he hadn’t had the chance to look over—which was insane to even think about. And Jae-won can only breathe and look at his mentor in surprise.
It takes him a second to remember what his mentor was even talking about. “Ah,” he looks around the room, gathering the information from the depths of his brain. “Dr. Park from the Burn Unit stepped in. The victim is now in the general ward. His prognosis is good, too.”
Dr. Baek sighs. Jae-won, honestly, deep down, wants to punch him—he’s feeling so many things and having so many things he needed to say. Yet Dr. Baek sat on his bed, one knee up—
And, really, he should stop that otherwise his stitches would open.
—looking at his iPad like he isn’t a patient himself. Jae-won wants to scream and destroy the whole room alongside Dr. Baek.
“Who treated the other patients while I was out?” The man looks almost disappointed that he didn’t get the opportunity to work on the patients.
“We’ve had quite a few traffic accidents,” and yet, despite his own feelings, Jae-won falls back into normalcy; setting back into his work mode that usually follows along whenever Dr. Baek is around. “So there have been many orthopaedic patients. Dr. Im from the ER and Dr. Jung from orthopaedics helped out a lot. No fatalities so far.”
“No. 1…”
“Yes, Dr. Baek,” he approaches him, awfully confused.
“According to the chart, you cut me open without a CT scan,” finally, finally Dr. Baek looked at him. Jae-won met his eyes, somewhat shocked and confused—caught off-guard.
“Do you mean your surgery?” They look at each other for a second, but Jae-won can’t keep eye contact for too long. So, he looks the other way, avoiding his mentor’s stare. “You said yourself, Dr. Baek, that I should decide for myself. That was my decision. The surgery couldn’t wait—”
“Right,” the man drops the iPad onto his bed. “What was the basis for that?”
Jae-won bites his lip for a second, meeting Dr. Baek’s eyes with hesitation. It’s not that he hasn’t had proper basis for his decision—but the weigh of it pulled him down. He felt unsure. Confidence down low. He just couldn’t feel confident around Dr. Baek. Not when he was on such a different level. Jae-won feels as if his basis weren’t enough—even though he knows they were.
The self-doubting and deprecating thoughts swarm in his mind, but he stands tall, looking directly into Dr. Baek’s eyes. “The patient’s condition. In trauma surgery, the patient’s condition matters more than textbook knowledge,” he tells, hands gesturing around. “That’s what you told me,” he says that part a bit quietly.
“What was my condition?”
Jae-won gulps—he wants to talk about something else. He wants to talk to Dr. Baek and confide in him how fearful he’d been taking in the scalpel and how afraid he was of losing him. He wanted to sit down and cry and hold Dr. Baek’s warm hand as a way to prove that Dr. Baek was alive. He wanted to do a lot of things—and yet, Dr. Baek gave him no chance.
With a small nod, Jae-won proceeds to explain. “The heat kept spreading nonstop. So, I figured there would be cumulative damage. As time passed, the damage would only accelerate. I realized it might cause liver failure…” he stops for a second, breathing in, before tacking on: “yes. So, I made my decision.”
“Did you cut out…” Dr. Baek looks down at his abdomen. “…a third of my liver?” The silence stretches. “That’s bordering on a living-donor liver transplant.”
Jae-won stops for a second, not being able to contain his humour. “Yes. That’s right,” he smiles a bit.
“You little bastard,” his mentor says. “You almost killed me.”
That throws Jae-won’s humour off. The feelings he’s been holding flourish under his skin and he can’t help but to look at Dr. Baek dead in the eyes—serious and full of emotion—as he says, “but you’re still alive.”
“That’s true.”
Jae-won flinches softly at the response, realizing he’d stepped over a line. He sighs, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, Dr. Baek.”
“No,” Dr. Baek says softly. “I’m saying you did a good job, Dr. Yang Jae-won.”
It takes a second for him to even acknowledge that his name was coming off Dr. Baek’s mouth. It takes a second for him to even understand what it meant. Jae-won looks over at his mentor, shock clear on his face.
“What?” He takes a step in, approaching the man with complete disregard for the man’s own space. He needed to make sure he heard it correctly. “Dr. Baek… Did you just call me by my—my name?”
“Yes,” he sees his mentor nodding lazily. “You’ve finally earned your name.”
Jae-won looks at Dr. Baek, eyes tearing up. His lips tremble and he looks at the man in front of him with shock. There are so many things he wants to say. So many things he wants to tell—he wants to yell at Dr. Baek and demand he never puts himself in danger ever again; he wants to tell him to never give him the weight of the decision; he wants to tell him that he’s glad he’s alive; he wants to tell so much…
Yet, he couldn’t muster the strength to say anything. He stands a feet away from Dr. Baek, a small tear running down his cheek. The stress finally coming off his body as he feels relief and happiness washing over him. Jae-won is speechless.
“Why are you such a crybaby, No. 1?” Dr. Baek scoffs, a hint of a grin at the corner of his lips. “Are you this happy to hear your name?”
“…I’m—” Jae-won stutters, more tears falling off his face, dropping onto Dr. Baek’s lap. “I’m happy you’re alive…” he whispers softly, hiccupping slightly as he finally allows himself to cry.
“Jae-won-ah,” Dr. Baek sighs softly, reaching his hands at Jae-won’s cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Thank you for saving me. You did good.”
“…Dr. Baek,” he sobs, a hand reaching over to take his glasses off as he continues to cry.
“Stop crying,” the other says. But Jae-won isn’t listening. “Hey. No. 1,” nothing. Jae-won is a little too out of it to respond. “So bothersome,” he says quietly.
Dr. Baek’s hands shift towards Jae-won’s neck, pulling him close. At this point, Jae-won is not exactly focusing much on reason and only following the other man’s touch and voice. And, on the other hand, Dr. Baek just can’t resist anymore. With Yang Jae-won within his hands, shedding tears over the fact he is alive—calling out to him like a lost puppy.
In a second their lips meet. An amalgamation of each of their emotions finally bursting free. Jae-won’s soft sobs are quieted down as he grunts in shock at the sudden contact, eyes looking down to meet with Dr. Baek’s.
Dr. Baek leans an inch away, “don’t be a fucking weirdo, No. 1,” he smirks. “Close your eyes.”
And Jae-won does so. He shuts his eyes close, anticipation coursing through his veins as he waits for something to happen. However, it takes too long. Far too long. It makes him anxious. Afraid that, maybe, Dr. Baek was backing off—or that he was just making fun of him. Either way, it gets him to impatiently open his mouth, before saying:
“Hey, Dr. Baek—”
Dr. Baek takes that moment to seize his lips again—this time sucking at his lips and slipping in some tongue. And Jae-won makes a noise of shock, surprise and excitement all together. Baek Kang-hyuk kisses like he has all the time in the world, slow and precise—somewhat predictable, considering he was so meticulous with everything due to his job as a surgeon.
Jae-won had only kissed a few people in his life—he felt severely under-experienced. But Kang-hyuk was leading the pace, guiding him along—as he always did. It made something in his stomach flutter; he pressed his eyes shut, angling his neck a bit more, leaning in a little closer. Jae-won felt the sudden need to flush their bodies close—for him to feel Kang-hyuk’s warmth and feel physically that he was alive.
A hand finds its way onto Jae-won’s hair, pulling him in, while another hand grabs at his waist. Jae-won whines, instinctively trying to get closer and closer and—
Kang-hyuk leans away, groaning in pain. Jae-won immediately snaps out of it, looking at him to check for any signs of problem. “Dr. Baek—”
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he waves Jae-won off. “I forgot I have stitches. You’re too eager, No.1.”
“Huh?” He stares confused. Only to realize he’s been almost getting to straddle on Dr. Baek’s lap—a leg awkwardly placed at the edge of the mattress. Embarrassment flushes in, making him feel the heat all over his face. “Ah! Well! Dr. Baek—you see—”
“No. 1!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Thank you,” he says softly, with an honest smile on his lips.
“Uh… Oh… well,” Jae-won feels the heat on his face worsen. “You’re welcome, Dr. Baek.”
“I’ll take you out to dinner properly once I’m discharged,” Dr. Baek smiles teasingly. “Alright, No.1?”
“Ah, yes, sir!”
“Now get those shits off the window,” he points at the crowd standing outside of Dr. Baek’s room. There stands a somewhat shocked Dr. Park, a smiling Nurse Cheon and a wide-eyed Dr. Han.
Jae-won screams loudly, turning his back on them. “Dr. Baek!”
“What?” There’s a teasing smile on his lips.
“Dr. Baek!”
“Yes, I’m aware you love me, No.1,” he nods.
“Dr. Baek, please!”
“Want to hide with me in the blanket? I’ll help you out this time,” he opens up his blanket, inviting him in.
“Argh! No! Dr. Baek—” he stutters and mumbles and loses himself as he proceeds to feel mortified. “Whatever! Bye!”
“Bye, bye, Dr. Yang!”