Chapter Text
Blood
Crimson red around both of his hands as Taeyong presses to stop the bleeding. Several beeps from the operating room amplify into his ears while the team rushes to save the patient from imminent death. Taeyong wasn’t fazed. Blood is normal. Blood grounds him to reality; pulls him to the ground to remind him that he is alive. He impassively tells the anesthesia to stabilize the patient’s vitals first before he’d proceed and everyone around the room once again anticipates his every command, whispering softly at how decisive he is.
He finished the surgery without any more inconvenience after that and briskly walked out of OR to attend to the patient’s significant other and tell them the good news. Taeyong saved her.
As he always did.
“Wanna get coffee?” Eunwoo walks with him towards the nurses’ station to sign some papers.
Taeyong picks a pen from his white coat and scribbles a few signatures on the papers handed to him by Mrs. Park. He doesn’t even look back at his bestfriend when he answers, “I’m busy, Eunwoo—”
“It’ll be quick.” The younger doctor audibly swallows the lump in his throat and Taeyong raises a brow. He’s nervous. Why is he nervous? “I just want to tell you something.”
“Dr. Lee?” An old woman’s voice rings in his ears. Taeyong turns to find who he thinks is the mother of the woman he had just operated on. “H-how’s my Heeyoungie? Is… is she okay?”
Taeyong pushes a professional smile. “The operation was successful but we still have to monitor her after. My team is already taking care of that matter, no need to worry as of now. She will be moved to the CCU so I suggest you wait there. A nurse will get you once it’s safe to see her.”
The relieved sigh from the old woman came with tears as she took Taeyong’s hands to hold in between hers. “Thank you. Thank you thank you so much, Dr. Lee. Heeyoung is my everything. I don’t know what we would do without you. I–I cannot thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Mrs. Choi. It’s my job.” He reassured her with a pat on her shoulder. Their conversation didn’t take long before a nurse approached the mother and made her sign something. Taeyong bids her farewell and goes back to Eunwoo.
He hands the papers back to the nurse in the station and uses his arm as leverage to lean on the mahogany counter. “Fine.” He finally answers the long-awaited invitation. “But I have an operation in an hour after this so you better hurry.”
Eunwoo beams and walks ahead followed by the older. Taeyong still has enough time to quickly rest before his next operation. A coffee might be a good idea. And besides, he doesn’t want to stay around here and catch another glimpse of Mrs. Park’s annoying deep dimples every time she strikes a casual conversation with the surgeon. It isn’t her fault, of course. Mrs. Park is kind, well-meaning, and entirely undeserving of his irritation. Unfortunately, Taeyong’s inexplicable resentment toward dimples—a grudge he suspects traces back to some aggravating neighborhood child he can no longer even remember—has endured long enough to become a permanent fixture of his personality. As a result, Mrs. Park’s perfectly innocent smile has found its way onto the ever-growing list of Things That Irritate Lee Taeyong Far More Than They Reasonably Should.
Despite all that, Taeyong is known to be patient and calm. As a surgeon, it is one of the traits that he values about himself the most. And it’s not because he needed to have those temperaments, but because Taeyong himself, since he was younger, had always been the composed one. Always the pacifist, the kid who gets in between other kids in a fight to urge them to talk it out, the kid who—despite the earthquake alarm ringing—walks calmly to the corridors with a hand on his head while his other first grader classmates wail in panic, and the kid who ignores other kids’ teasing in the swing without giving them the satisfaction of winning. That’s how he takes revenge. Making other kids feel like their bad humor was inadequate to be given an ounce of his attention.
You could say Taeyong was born intelligent, having been able to think about this as a little kid. He wouldn’t deny it if you ask him. He knows he is at the far right of the curve and he takes no small amount of pride in it, especially now, when he occasionally runs into those same neighborhood runts in crowded grocery store aisles and parking lots. The years have sanded down their edges, turning them into ordinary adults who offer him stiff smiles and awkward greetings, as though embarrassed by the children they once were. Taeyong can never quite decide whether he finds the encounters amusing or gratifying.
Despite that, there is, however, one little secret he swore he’d take with him to his grave: dimples.
That was the name he'd given him—the embodiment of every crack in his carefully built composure. His greatest shortcoming and singular weakness. His shameless neighbor. Taeyong doesn’t remember much about him. But he gets nightmares sometimes; a faceless kid with two deep dimples taunting him in the sunlit playground as he’s reading his book under a tree.
He always woke before he could remember the rest. It’s just a silly dream but the way his body reacts, how it sweats and hyperventilates, tells him they should be considered nightmares.
It irritated him more than he'd ever admit. Why would someone he could barely recall linger so stubbornly in the corners of his subconscious? Why had his mind erased the face, yet preserved the feeling with precision? Sometimes, when he’s left alone in the dark corner of his room, these futile questions linger once again in his mind. But until the missing pieces find their way back to him, the dimpled boy would remain exactly what he had always been: Taeyong's one undeniable vulnerability.
He didn’t finish his thought when the realization hit him that they had arrived at their destination.
It was a regular cafe near the hospital. The door jingled as they walked in and Taeyong inhaled the familiar bitter aroma. He scans his eyes around and takes in the modern decor of the place’s interior design. Just as Taeyong likes. Simple and boring. He often came here when he was a young aspiring surgeon, always ready and excited for his next operation. Now it has become dull. So repetitive. Blood, blood, clamp, cut, blood, scalpel, blood.
Their pager vibrates indicating that their order is ready and Eunwoo offers to get it while Taeyong waits. When the younger arrived, he brought with him two slices of cake that the surgeon didn’t order, although appreciates.
“I thought you might need that sugar, you know.” Eunwoo hands him the plate. “You’ve been working nonstop.”
Taeyong wordlessly picks the fork and slices through the chocolate dessert. “I don’t really have anything else to do.” He stares at it as if it was interesting enough. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You didn't have to step in on that operation, you know.” Eunwoo's eyes fell to the coffee swirling in his hands. “She would've been transferred to another hospital. It was risky for your career operating on something that you're not very familiar with.”
“I know.” Taeyong averts his eyes away and takes a sip of his coffee. “But I couldn't stand by and watch the woman possibly die in the ambulance when there's a bigger chance I could save her.”
“You and your savior complex really.” Eunwoo defeatedly exhales that it makes the surgeon smile. It took him a while to gather the confidence to say his next words. “Is it because you still feel guilty about him?”
Taeyong tried to open his mouth but no voice came out from his throat. Instead, he just slices the cake and takes one to his mouth, feeling the creamy taste of its flavor. Eunwoo knows some of his traumas, specifically the major PTSD inducing ones like when one of his professors told him to take the blow from a patient in an incident of misdiagnosis or well, when he was kidnapped as a child. It’s a spectrum.
“Sooner or later you'd have to free yourself from that weight, you know? You can't just drown in it forever.”
“I know.”
For a few minutes, none of them spoke and Taeyong starts to just poke his food for the sake of doing something to not make them awkward. Eunwoo always knows what to say. He’s smart, probably the only one close to his age that could parallel him in intelligence but thankfully he’s a junior so the rivalry never came. Instead, they turned to understand each other really well, perhaps too well. And it’s why he’s the only person he’s ever really been close with, intellectually, probably emotionally… and physically.
“Is that the only reason why you wanted to talk to me?” Taeyong says gruffly, finally lifting his eyes to the younger.
“I like you.” Eunwoo blurts out without hesitation, finally able to express the words out loud after a long time of holding them inside. “Like romantically. And… and I know you know. I know you’ve always known.” He’s been preparing himself for months now, practicing how he’d confess to his senior and best friend, and you could tell from the way his speech came without pauses. He’s right though, Taeyong isn’t dumb. He’s always known. It’s not like finding a ring on his bedside table after their first night sleeping together made it obvious or something. Not like Eunwoo nervously telling him to ‘keep it’ didn’t give him a hint. Not at all.
“I was hoping we could officially go out... Like on a date.” Eunwoo gulps. “If you want, of course.” He observes how Taeyong is reacting, if he’s shocked, furious or confused, but none of those is carved on his face. He couldn’t read him. Just as always.
To Eunwoo, Taeyong is always so hard to predict.
Taeyong takes his iced americano and sips it wordlessly. No one has ever confessed to him before; either because no one actually liked him, or they just found him hard to approach. Nevertheless, it felt foreign, but not like what the books had told him. No butterflies. No symptoms of brain chemicals released in his body. Nothing.
It’s not like he expected more. Even when they casually have sex, Taeyong sees it as nothing more than a stress relief despite knowing Eunwoo doesn’t. Sometimes it confuses him too. The kisses were almost always passionate, but it doesn’t… exhilarate him like how they say it’s supposed to.
But alas, whether he feels romantically for Eunwoo or not doesn’t matter. He’s aging faster than he realizes, and settling down should start climbing in his list of priorities by now. And who else is best to settle down with aside from the only person who’s ever had a relationship with him.
When he puts the cup down and opens his mouth to respond, a clunk reverberates from below. A bread knife. Taeyong thought it must’ve been from the table behind him judging from its placement. He raises a brow and reaches down to pick it up but he was stopped by a hand in a suit beating him to it. It was the way this man's watch—a yellow gold Rolex Cosmograph Daytona with oyster bracelet— glimmered around his wrist as he held the knife that caught Taeyong's attention at first. He knows that watch. It was the most expensive item in that store he frequented. As a doctor, watches are very important. Time could tip the scales between life and death.
But it wasn't the watch that made his face contort. Something about the way the hand firmly gripped the serrated blade of the knife instead of the handle made Taeyong frown. When he lifted his head to take a look at the insane owner of that hand, it was too late. He had already strided across the cafe, with only his back facing the surgeon, bringing with him the knife before dropping it on the counter without even stopping on his tracks. Taeyong watches him leave.
Eunwoo didn’t really get a response from Taeyong that day as the surgeon got an urgent call immediately after the knife incident. The older had apologized before running back to the hospital to attend to the post-op patient experiencing signs of shock. Tomorrow. Eunwoo tells himself in comfort. I’m sure he’ll answer tomorrow.
➰➰➰
The drive home was more exhausting than Taeyong expected. He’s definitely had busier and more toxic days but tonight he just didn’t have the physical, mental and emotional capacity to even take a single happy step forward. The young girl he operated on just this morning had suddenly developed complications in the CCU and he had to watch the once cheerful mother sob on the floor as he broke the devastating news that although the operation was successful, her daughter still didn’t make it. And the worst thing is, he couldn’t even pinpoint exactly why. The possibility of it being his fault starts bothering him. What could he have done to prevent that? Did he miss to consider something before operating? Taeyong puffs his cheeks in frustration when the answer doesn’t come to him. For now he just wants to rest.
Instead of moping around in his car, Taeyong decided to turn on the music to take his mind off of all negativities. He hadn’t even decided on an answer to his friend’s confession yet even though it should be easy. There really shouldn’t be any other answer but ‘yes’ and yet here he is still weighing his options despite the scale tipping heavily to one side. Alas, he decided he’ll give it time after he takes that damned well-deserved sleep. He turns the wheel by the curve with a tired sigh. Fortunately enough, there wasn’t a single car, nor anyone around. It was past midnight after all, and his area isn’t really that well populated to have people around at this hour. Taeyong likes that.
After socializing with so many different people in the hospital as the leader of the medical team, Taeyong craves quiet moments like these. It is at such a time when he can open the car windows, inhale the less polluted air, and enjoy being the sole person in the street that Taeyong can finally relish his life outside the confines of 4 giant walls.
He checks the side-view mirror to see if there are cars behind and when he confirms that there are none, slips his hand outside the window and feels the cold midnight breeze only to hit the brakes in a swift when a bloody figure crosses by and narrowly misses getting bumped.
The unknown person falls to the ground, and Taeyong stares into the dark space, heaving and frozen. He spent what felt like hours inside his car trying to process what happened, trying to pull himself back to reality, before he remembered the existence of the fallen body. Taeyong wasted no time rushing toward the spot where it had landed, bracing himself for the worst—perhaps a broken arm, a fractured finger, some injury he had somehow caused. He was certain he hadn't struck him directly but he could still be wrong.
Taeyong freezes. What he saw was incomparable to his initial thought.
Blood
Taeyong sees the familiar liquid once again. Crimson red decorating the pavement like art. He assesses the situation, looks for any signs of injury from the crash but all he sees are wounds all over the man’s body. Taeyong has lived long enough as a surgeon to know these are bullet wounds. He counts one, two, three, one on the right thigh, one on the left arm, and one on the left shoulder. And there’s no way he can treat him here without anything in his bag. He can call the ambulance or even the cops, but the fear of facing the consequences possibly hitting this man has bested his thought. He can lose his driving license, or worse, his license to practice medicine.
Yes, he’s overthinking. He should’ve ran to the fallen man. He should’ve bolted and immediately tried to stop the bleeding. But instead, he stood there frozen, like a deer in headlights just watching for everything to unfold right before his eyes. For a moment—perhaps for a split second—he had thought of running away, which isn’t very Taeyong-the-noble-and-always-mature-surgeon of him if he were to be honest, but in those moments he wasn’t in his right mind. He looks at his surroundings; no buildings, no CCTV camera, and not a single breath from anyone. He could just run away and pretend nothing happened but before he could even move, a boisterous laugh echoes around the quiet night.
Taeyong stares at the man in horror.
“I can’t believe a doctor like you is really thinking of making a run for it.” The man, bloody on the pavement, finally turns his head to look at Taeyong with eyes dark. He was pale and weak, but he was also laughing… and alive. And at that moment, Taeyong registers; he knows I’m a doctor? “Wouldn’t that be against your oath, Doctor Lee?”
Taeyong frowns. There is something wrong about how this man literally got 3 bullet shots all over his body, how he’s just lying there laughing like a maniac as if he doesn't, and how he knows Lee Taeyong. But more importantly, there is something deeply wrong about those two abnormally deep craters in his cheeks appearing as the strange man grins at him as though he isn't bleeding. Dimples. Great. Now he really wants to leave this man to fend for himself while he takes a nice warm bath in his cozy home.
Before Taeyong could think about anything more enticing, he ran to the man and dropped to his knees to assess him, snapping himself back to reality and professionalism. The moment he says his name and introduces himself, he’s going to officially take responsibility for this man. Whether it was the right thing to do, or even remotely safe, was a question he had no answer for. But he does so anyway.
“My name is Lee Taeyong, I’m a doctor. And I’m going to help you.”
A choice.
It was what Taeyong made that night that turned the tide of his life.
“And I’m Jaehyun,” The man jokingly lifts his hand to invite the surgeon for a shake. “Your patient.”
Rather than saying anything more, Taeyong instead assesses the three wounds for its entry and exit points, and if it damaged any of this man’s bones before he ran back to his car to grab whatever was inside of it that he could use. He shakes the thought of stupid dimples away from his mind as he starts working, now annoyed at the fact that this meager thing is starting to get under his skin. He shouldn’t be thinking of cheek craters at times like this, get it together Dr. Lee!
The first thing he did was to control the bleeding as sterile as possible, even though that’s nearly impossible in the place they’re situated. He expected Jaehyun to complain, to groan, or just… react like any sane person would as he disinfects the wounds but none of it came out from the patient lying on the ground. Instead, he lied there like he had just gone out on a picnic to see the stars.
This Adult Dimples is starting to remind him of Little Dimples back in his childhood and he doesn’t like the idea of how that’s going to end. He swears they have this uncanny resemblance but he ignores that thought and focuses back on his work. It can't be him. The universe isn't that petty or evil to make them meet again. And besides, the name Jaehyun doesn't really ring a bell to him—not like he remembers little dimples’ name in the first place. He isn't exactly sure why, but it feels as though his mind has walled off a part of his memories of that boy.
Taeyong brings his focus back to his work, now on his 2nd bullet wound. “You’re extremely lucky, you know that?” Perhaps if he reiterates Jaehyun’s situation, the man would wake up and pull himself back to the ground. Maybe then he’d realize he’s literally about to bleed to death. “None of these wounds are fatal, not even a break in your bone. It’s almost as if it’s..” ‘intentional’ he wants to say but he shakes his head. It can’t be. That would be stupid. He pulls both ends of the cloth to apply pressure on the bleeding wound.
“Intentional?” he didn’t need to overthink when Jaehyun supplies his thoughts. “Which one do you think is more believable, Dr. Lee?” Jaehyun tilts his head to the side to have a clear view of the surgeon now working on his arm. “That I’m extremely lucky? Or that I intentionally shot myself for some reason?”
Taeyong clenches his teeth. What a peculiar question. He doesn’t answer — in fact, he couldn’t find it in himself to answer. None of those choices make sense to his rational world. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses the keys to dial for an emergency rescue but he isn't even able to reach halfway when Jaehyun comes lunging at him, pushing both of their now wrapped bodies rolling on the ground. He didn’t get to register one thing after another when a series of gunshots fell in his ears, effectively startling him into tightening his arms around the stranger on top of him and shrieking.
All he remembered was that a sound of a car rushed past them the same time the gunshots were heard and a somehow blurry picture of a wolf tattooed on someone's left arm before Jaehyun pulled him back up and pushed him inside his own car to “drive.” Panic uncharacteristically befalls him. He knew what was happening—his body was slipping into survival mode, yet knowing the science behind it did nothing to steady the violent tremor in his hands or stop his legs from shaking beneath him. The drive home came in a blur. One second Taeyong and his uninvited guest were in the parking lot, the next he’s bringing him to his condominium with an arm wrapped around the taller’s waist supporting his body, and blood dripping on his carpet. Perhaps it was the doctor in him but before he could find it in himself to shake all the adrenaline, Taeyong immediately continued where he left off in treating Jaehyun.
The very moment the surgeon pulls that cloth to secure it around the wound, he falls to the ground and breathes heavily, now only just internalizing whatever the fuck he has just been into. He brings a bloody and shaky hand to cover his mouth, the familiar smell of rust now dancing around his olfactory nerves. And for the first time in his life, it felt nauseating.
“What have I done?” He mumbles to himself, shakily backing away from Jaehyun now that everything is starting to dawn on him. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Guns, shootouts, car chases, bullet wounds, blood, blood, blood…
Taeyong had once heard rumors from the nurses at the station about crime groups running the roots of their little city for decades, including the hospital that he’s working at, but he thought it was just some silly stories the people made to make their boring place exciting. His colleagues were pretty much convinced the chairman is part of the mafia—even Eunwoo had once told him about the conspiracy theory of them using the hospital to sell organs or shits—but to him, nothing about criminals owning a hospital made sense nor do their “decades” of existence within the city without detection.
Tonight he was proven otherwise. Not entirely perhaps, but enough to make him believe that they indeed exist in the dark corners of their city. And he had just potentially involved himself in it. Taeyong laughs nervously, his nerves starting to pop one by one but he maintains his composure and do what he does best: rationalize.
He forces out a doubtful chuckle, seemingly losing his grip, “haha, it’s okay it’s okay. You were just helping, that’s what doctors do. Nothing will happen. They probably didn’t even see your face! Ha!” And then it dawns into him again. “Fuck they probably took note of my plate number—no. No. They don’t know who I am, and if they somehow find a way to do so, they would find out I’m a doctor! Ha! They’d know I actually have nothing to do with this man.” He glances at the said man who looks at him with an amused expression, dimples and everything. Taeyong swears he might throw a punch. “You should leave.” He deadpans.
The slight twitch of Jaehyun’s lips didn’t go unnoticed before he let out a seemingly mocking chuckle. He knows that Taeyong had figured it out. After all, he is so easy to read. He looks around his bloody body in a gesture to remind Taeyong of his condition. “I didn’t know you could be such a heartless doctor, Mr. Lee.”
Taeyong presses his lips in a tight line, balling his hands into a fist. It doesn’t take a surgeon like him to know Jaehyun would die, either by bleeding to death or by infection if he kicks him out. Even if the man looks like it’s not affecting him, he could see it in his blueing lips how pale he was starting to become and he just couldn’t find it in himself to allow a man looking like that to roam outside where he could potentially be shot to death not just because it’s his responsibility as a doctor, but because he knows it’s going to weigh twice as more in his conscience. He has an oath. A promise to his patients.
And he cannot let another form of guilt eat him alive again. He's been suffering enough for one. He cannot fit two inside his weighing chest.
Though he still cannot accept all the sudden shits thrown at him, Taeyong lets out a defeated and annoyed sigh. He hates that this is ruining his composure. He shouldn’t be reacting without thinking. He’s always been five steps ahead of everyone else and he’s going to make sure he keeps it that way when he formulates a plan later. He walked out of the living room without a word and headed for his personal medical kit in the kitchen. If Jaehyun was going to stay here for the night, he might as well thoroughly treat his wound. He’s not going to let the man have an infection on his watch. That’ll be embarrassing for him as a respected surgeon.
“Stop staring.” Taeyong warns as he wraps the last wound with an appropriate dressing. It's been thirty minutes since Taeyong began treating Jaehyun—thirty minutes of stitching wounds and trying to process everything that had happened. Jaehyun, however, wasn't making any of it easier. He hadn't stopped looking at him once, his gaze unwavering, the corners of his lips perpetually curved into an infuriatingly fond smile. It was enough to make heat creep up Taeyong's neck.
He would never admit it, not under oath, not on his deathbed, but the man was unfairly attractive especially now that the IV fluids had begun to work and color had returned to Jaehyun's lips, leaving them a healthy shade of red. His features were striking, all clean lines and sharp angles, softened only by impossibly smooth skin that made Taeyong, rather irrationally, a little jealous. It was ridiculous.
The man was gorgeous. Objectively so. Almost offensively so.
He was convinced, or at least trying very hard to convince himself, that this was simply the lingering aftermath of the adrenaline from earlier. Elevated heart rate, heightened awareness, impaired judgment... there had to be a physiological explanation. He couldn't recall a paper supporting the theory, but he made a mental note to search for one later.
Because there was absolutely no chance he was developing any sort of interest in a man he'd met less than two hours ago. His patient, no less. No. That wasn't like him. Not like Lee Taeyong—meticulous, principled, and far too professional to blur a line he had spent years drawing.
The said doctor dismisses his dreadful thoughts and mindlessly puts his things back in their place while refusing to look back at his uninvited guest, afraid that something inside him might dangerously stir. There was one thing he had just only realized after his mind calmed down. “Back there when those people were shooting at us… you…” he swallows a lump in his throat, turning the white tape with his fingers. “You—“
“Jumped up to shield you from the bullets? Yep.” Jaehyun snorts. “Heroic, isn’t it? You’d even mistaken me for a good person.”
Taeyong’s brow twitches up and though his eyes are focused on playing with the tape, his ears are intently listening. “Aren’t you?” He lifts his head and gives Jaehyun a blank gaze. “A good person, I mean.”
Jaehyun turns his body and folds his uninjured leg on the couch, his arms leaning on the backrest. “What do you think?” He says with an amused grin.
A sharp breath leaves his lips before he zips it tight. He looks straight at Jaehyun whose eyes were holding equally blank gazes, like the night sky devoid of stars. “No.” He taunts. “You’re not.”
Taeyong expected him to be offended, to scowl and argue him wrong but instead, just like all his other expectations from the younger, he was proven wrong.
“Exactly.” Jaehyun leans closer. “And you should remember that.” He heaves upon standing up and wordlessly walks away.
“Where are you going?” Taeyong asks incredulously, standing up himself with his medicine kit. “Please tell me you’re leaving my house already.”
“Eurmm…” Jaehyun turns to face him as he scrunches his nose. “No.” He audibly smirks. “I’m off to bed.”
At that, Taeyong’s ears ding and he darts to block Jaehyun from touching his doorknob. He had planned to let Jaehyun sleep in the living room because truthfully, there wasn’t any other room in his house with a bed or even just a sleeping space–he had already converted those into an office and a place to hold his reference books. It’s not like he needed those anyways. He usually doesn’t have guests to welcome except Eunwoo. Kind of depressing come to think of it.
“This is my room.” He deadpans, assuming that would put the puzzle pieces together and give Jaehyun the hint that he cannot walk inside. But the stranger only gives him a blank look, as if taunting and silently voicing out a ‘so what?’
“Get the hint will you? I’m going to be sleeping here. And you,” he pokes his index finger to Jaehyun’s chest “will sleep on the couch.”
Taeyong gives him a what?-you-can’t-do-anything-about-it look, feeling childishly triumphant when Jaehyun doesn’t reply and instead only fixates on him without a hint of emotion. Take that Jaehyun! That’s for you and your stupid dimples.
How horrifyingly mature of him.
A few moments, something suddenly clicks inside the taller's eyes as it momentarily lights up. Jaehyun’s mouth falls agape with a groan while his hand flies on his injured shoulder, clearly and undoubtedly,pretending without shame that he was hurting.
“How can you, a doctor, watch your poor, hurt,patient just lie down on that small couch without remorse?” He adds a few fake pained groans for the effects of it and Taeyong rolls his eyes so hard he almost feels his eyeballs at the back of his head.
“I swear to god—“
“It’s not like I’m staying ‘til tomorrow.” Jaehyun gives him the lousiest attempt at puppy eyes whereas Taeyong could only sigh in defeat. He’s too tired to argue. His body is already aching with heaviness from the hours-long operation and there’s nothing more that he wants to do other than plop on his silk bed, with or without Jaehyun, after taking a nice, short, warm bath.
Taeyong knows very well that it was already not very wise of him to welcome a stranger inside his house, much more his own bedroom where he keeps his most precious belongings hidden, but he isn’t really the most intelligent human when he’s 48-hours sleep-deprived and covered in blood.
‘Wait a minute…’ Taeyong’s lips started to curve into a sly smile. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives Jaehyun the most annoying and authoritative look.
“You want to sleep inside my comfy bedroom?” He smiles sarcastically. “Then beg for it.”
At those words, the light inside of Jaehyun’s eyes died and his brow twitched up for a split second. His tongue pokes inside his cheeks as he lets out a pathetic chuckle. Then his gaze lands back on Taeyong who was looking at him with an equally competitive shine before he tilts his head and lifts the other’s chin with his index finger.
“Do you want me to suck you off too while I do so?” He smirks, the lilt in his voice evident.
Taeyong feels his cheeks rising in temperature. The doctor raises his hands in surrender. “You know what, I’m tired. Do whatever the fuck you want as long as you leave first thing in the morning. I’m going to shower.” He opens the doorknob and heads for the shower inside his bedroom, leaving a triumphant Jaehyun behind.
Blood
Crimson red liquid running to wrap itself around Taeyong’s body in the process of getting washed away with water into the drain. Taeyong watches the familiar fluid swirl around the little holes before it disappears. It reminds him of that day after the incident when he came home with a face covered in dried red blood. His mother had run to him in panic, sobbing and wailing as she hugged her long-lost son after almost 2 weeks of his disappearance. Taeyong was too stunned to voice out a single word, or even just feel a single emotion but he remembers crying nonstop.
He doesn’t remember much of that incident. His theory is that his brain had intentionally erased those horrifying memories as an act of protecting itself, else he would be suffering a lot mentally. The brain sometimes does that. Sometimes memories can be too traumatic for a child to keep so the brain tucks it aside and forgets about it to preserve its well being, unless something triggers it. He does, however, remember a dimly lit room about the size enough to only fit 2-3 children. There weren’t any windows, only a door that leads outside where the enemies lie. There was a vent above them though and Taeyong distinctly remembers climbing above to fit inside of it.
It was how he escaped, but it was also how he left him.
Taeyong doesn’t remember who he is. His memories could only go as far as flashing pictures of the child’s body. But he remembers spending time with him in that chamber. He recalls fragments of memories with him but he couldn’t seem to assemble all the pieces together. He doesn’t understand why he was able to leave a poor boy behind and escape by himself. Was he a traitor? Did he betray that boy so he could survive? Was it why his brain had started to erase those memories? To free himself from guilt? Because that didn’t seem to do the work. Until now he is still carrying that heavy load inside his chest and the more he tries to free himself from it, the more it takes a toll on his body.
Taeyong steps out of the shower when his head starts to hurt again. He was wrapped in his bathrobe as he dries his hair with a towel when he halts.
Right….
There’s an abomination in his house.
“What are you doing?” Taeyong asks a bit sassily when he sees the stranger trying to reach for something under his bed.
Jaehyun stood up immediately and lifted his hands to show him the ring he was holding. “Found it.”
“A ring.” He says as a matter of factly, too distracted to notice the kind.
Jaehyun was still on his knees holding the jewelry when his eyes glinted in cheekiness. “Will you marry me?”
Taeyong freezes, taken aback, but immediately regains his composure as he raises his brow skeptically. “No…” He ignores him for the rest of the night and finally heads to bed. He stops by the foot of the mattress, annoyed as he watches Jaehyun scroll his phone nonchalantly. “You’re seriously sleeping here? Are you seriously going to be this shameless in my own household?”
“I’m hurt. Aahh.. bleeding all over.” Jaehyun says in the most monotonous acting ever without even batting an eye.
Taeyong sighs annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t even find it in himself to push him out. He really needs to work out on his savior complex. “Fine, but no funny business.” he warns.
Jaehyun smiles but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the object. “Is sex considered funny business?”
The surgeon groans.
➰➰➰
True to his words, Jaehyun didn’t stay the morning after. Taeyong woke up alone in his bed with Jaehyun’s side a little bit stained with blood. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Didn’t even pay for shit. What? Did he think I was doing those for free?
He gets out of bed and gets himself ready for work. The thought about what transpired last night still bugged him. It was so… weird. It felt like a scene in a movie. Like those action kinda stuff his dad used to watch in their DVD where there’s some kind of rich crime group doing their business behind the shadows, powerful enough to be left alone by even the government themselves. Yeah, what the fuck. It almost made him laugh internally. That’s not possible. But… Would that also mean he’s been caught in their web of drama after trying to help someone from their world?
Haha nope.
Nope.
He found himself accidentally pouring a bit of the hot water meant for his coffee into his hand making him yelp and it was at that moment that he slapped himself back to reality. It’s probably just some petty gang wars or something and Jaehyun is probably just a part of it. Well, he does seem childish enough to be so. Probably a child who grew up with unattentive parents so he joined gang fights to get their attention.
When he locks the door to his apartment later that day, Taeyong suddenly feels shivers down his spine and swirls inside his stomach. Like someone is watching him from somewhere and he couldn’t decipher where. He twirls around and scans the area, hand in the doorknob ready to go inside in case of emergency, but there was no one, not even a breath around. He releases a calm exhale. He’s just overthinking shits. Last night must’ve taken a toll on him without his knowledge. Of course, it would. He was literally almost shot. Taeyong shivers. Maybe he should report it to the police after work. Those kinds of people need to be put behind bars.
Funny. He only thought of that now.
When he arrived at the hospital with the same eerie feeling, Eunwoo greeted him in the lobby holding a chart in his hand. He points at it, “why are you doing that in the lobby?”
Eunwoo shrugs, “was waiting for you so I decided I should just write something down while I do so. You know, taking down two birds with one stone.”
Taeyong gives him an understanding nod. Then, as if he just switched the lightbulb on, he remembers Eunwoo’s confession yesterday. ‘Shit. That’s probably why he’s waiting for me. I wasn’t able to think about it last night because of that stupid Dimples barging into my house.’
Taeyong bites his lips. “Listen… about yesterday–”
“What are you doing here?” The sharp voice of his best friend cuts him off.
Taeyong looks at him surprised but finds that Eunwoo was looking somewhere else–somewhere that’s not him. He follows his colleague’s line of vision and turns behind to see a tall figure tower over him. When his mind started to process who it was, Taeyong’s eyes bulged.
“Jaehyun?!” That was the most expression he has ever expressed in this hospital. He quickly looks around to see if anyone else heard it.
Jaehyun was smiling.
He was smiling just like last night and for a brief second, Taeyong felt tingles run down his spine again. No. It’s not like last night. Everything about him feels… different.
His eyes are blank, his smile is empty and his stance felt like there was no soul. Jaehyun’s lips were in a vile smirk like he’s a completely different person. He wore this fancy black suit that highlights every edge and curve of his figure along with his seemingly luxurious watch.
That watch. The one from yesterday at the cafe.
“You know him?” It took Taeyong a few seconds to process that Eunwoo was speaking to him. He leaves Jaehyun’s disturbing figure and turns to his bestfriend shrugging.
“Kinda long story. Wait. How do you know each other?”
Eunwoo shuts his eyes as if to calm himself down even though he could already feel his nails digging into the skin of his palm. “It doesn’t matter. We’re no acquaintances.”
“Of course, Dr. Cha. We’re merely two people who know each other very well.” Jaehyun’s voice was a tone lower than he remembered. “And I am only here to have my wounds checked because my doctor,” Jaehyun intentionally side-eyes Taeyong who was starting to turn into a tomato “seems to be such a heavy sleeper he doesn’t even wake up when I shake him.”
It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Taeyong knows Eunwoo has shits figured out but he also might be thinking about it the wrong way. “It’s not really what you–”
“Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed last night, Dr. Lee.”
Taeyong almost chokes. He tries to protest but he finds Jaehyun already several steps away from them, checking the time from the watch around his hand while tucking the other in his pocket. He looks quite… elegant. When he turned, Eunwoo was marching away as well. Taeyong was left with a strange tension lingering around the atmosphere.
What the fuck.
➰➰➰
It was during Taeyong’s 4th patient in his rounds that he felt that eerie feeling again. Tingles from his spine down to his toes like someone is watching him somewhere. Taeyong had asked his colleagues if they ever feel it but none of them seem to do so except one intern. Donghyuck shyly walks to him privately.
“Truth is, I’ve been feeling it since the start of our rounds, Dr. Lee.” Hyuck says, uncomfortably squirming on his spot. “Like… like someone is watching. B-but I don’t know what, or who.” Taeyong’s heart accelerates. If Donghyuck felt it too, then it couldn't be just a reaction to yesterday's horrifying incident. He thanks the younger for his honesty and dismisses him.
Did they find out? Do they know who he is?
No. It can't be. Yesterday's incident was nothing to worry about. He was just helping someone. And it was like one time so maybe those guys would give him the benefit of the doubt right?
He was walking alone to the elevator to head to his clinic when he felt his head starting to throb.
“I-I feel like someone’s watching us.” A familiar voice of a little boy resonates around Taeyong’s mind. He couldn’t see the boy’s face, only his body. It was the same yellow shirt that he sees in those fragments. The same tattered navy blue jeans and brown belt that he had worn in that chamber.
“Coward~ You’re just scared I’m going to beat you in the monkey bars.” Little Taeyong says with a teasing tone.
After that were pictures suddenly flashing inside Taeyong’s mind. It disappeared so fast he wasn’t even able to comprehend one detail to another. Swiss Army Knife. Peanut butter. Blankets. Blood. Blood. Blood.
“Dr. Lee? Are you okay?” Donghyuck’s voice pulls him back and he suddenly finds himself standing in the hospital, the elevator dings and the door opens. Taeyong breathes, heavy and lasting. He nods and gives the younger a small smile before stepping inside with him.
Little did he know, he was merely at the start of his nightmare.
Because walking towards them are two unidentified men Taeyong has quite the idea who. The wolf tattoo on the man's left arm was like a danger sign straightforwardly waving at him—screaming at him to run. The memory of last night flashes before his eyes this time. It was the same two men that pulled the shot at Jaehyun, he's almost certain.
Panic surges into him as he presses the close button repeatedly, surprising Hyuck in the process. As if realizing what was happening, the two men darted faster towards them, trying to catch a ride in the elevator that made Taeyong’s heart jump to his throat. Fortunately for him they weren’t fast enough and he was saved by the four walls of the lift before he felt his knees starting to turn into jellies.
“Dr. Lee!” Donghyuck immediately strides to his aid.
“They–they know about me.” Taeyong tightens his hold around the arms of the younger, eyes blown wide in terror and head still throbbing in pain. His calm demeanor had ultimately shattered. For the first time in a long while, Taeyong loses grip.
“They? Who?”
Taeyong shakes his head, his mind immediately running to where it deems safe.
“Jaehyun.” Taeyong gulps. “I need to find him.” He presses the button with a label of ‘2’ and quickly steps outside the moment the door opens. “Call the security.” He instructs the younger who was left frozen inside the elevator before leaving for the nurses’ station.
“A patient named Jaehyun. Where is he?”
Baffled, the nurse stares at him for a minute before coming to her senses and searches the name on her monitor. “U-uh, yes Jeong Jaehyun. Dr. Choi’s clinic at the end of the hallway.”
Taeyong wanders aimlessly in the halls, mouthing Dr. Choi like a mantra while he reads the names in front of each door. He was made to halt when he faceplants on someone’s chest.
“You’re in a hurry.” Jaehyun states not even asking, and it was like Taeyong snaps from his reverie and finally sees hope in arm’s reach.
“Jaehyun.” He holds the younger by the arms voice shaking and grips unto him and for a split second, Jaehyun’s brows crease. “They’re after me. The men–from last night–they’re after me.”
Only Taeyong’s heavy breathing could be heard when Jaehyun quietens and Taeyong waits. He waits until seconds turn into a minute and all Jaehyun has been doing is stare blankly at him. Instead of being worried as Taeyong expected, a menacing smile only glows within Jaehyun’s lips. “I see.”
“What do you mean ‘I see.’ They’re going after me because of you!” He reiterates, spoon-feeds the whole information so that perhaps Jaehyun could connect the dots. “You involved me in this mess. They probably saw me helping you–an-and thought that I was your associate!”
“Or…” Jaehyun gently tilts his head with that same venomous smile. “They thought you were my lover.” He chuckles. “I did stay at your place overnight after all.”
Taeyong’s eyes widen before he swiftly swats his hand. He doesn't have time to think about that. “I–I don’t care what they think. It’s the same thing!”
Annoyingly enough, as if they weren’t running out of time, Jaehyun presses his lips into a thin line and clasps his hands behind him while looking up to think. “Mmm. Not really. If they thought you were my ally, they would just kidnap you and squeeze as much information as they can from you, but! If they thought you were somehow in a relationship with me, they’d..” he makes a poor hissing sound and nods to himself “probably torture you and use you as some kind of bait to get to me.”
“Are you fucking out of your mind?!”
“Ooooh~ careful with your words. You must’ve already forgotten about your little situation right now.”
Taeyong gapes, clearly appalled at the betrayal. “I saved you, Jaehyun.” He says in between his teeth.
Jaehyun pauses before he scoffs. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have.” He leans in to face Taeyong where they meet eye to eye, his orbs traveling down to the surgeon’s soft, pinkish lips before he lifts his gaze up once again. "Maybe that was your first mistake. You mistook mercy for leverage. And in doing so…" His sadistic smile never falters as he leans close enough for his words to brush against Taeyong's ear. "...you made yourself the easiest piece to sacrifice."
A beat of silence.
The words settled somewhere deep in Taeyong’s chest, colder than he cared to admit. Nothing reached his face. He met Jaehyun’s gaze without flinching, willing his pulse to remain the only thing that faltered.
"I warned you." Jaehyun’s whisper was almost gentle. "I'm not a good person."
It was all Taeyong heard before he was left standing in the hallway trying to catch his breath. All that he registered from that conversation is that he’s been tricked. He couldn’t believe that after all he did to him, after all the kindness and service he gave, he would have the audacity to leave him like this… at the mercy of an enemy he doesn’t even recognize.
Taeyong balls his fist so hard his fingers were turning white. “Coward!” He turns and watches Jaehyun halt. “You’re just scared you’d get beaten by those guys, aren’t you?” He grins, trying to taunt him.
Jaehyun turned around, face devoid of emotion, and yet you could see it in his eyes that the swirling anger was imminent.
“Take responsibility for involving me in your mess.”
Jaehyun’s brow twitches. “You want me to take responsibility?” He chuckles, slowly walking back to tower over the fuming surgeon. “Then,” just like last night Jaehyun lifts Taeyong’s head up with his index finger and gazes ruthlessly down his shimmering orbs.
“Beg for it.”