black versus blue

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/14805297.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Kim
Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin
Character: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Kim Taehyung | V & Park
Jimin are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V is a Sweetheart, Hurt Kim
Taehyung | V, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending,
Eventual Smut, Chatting & Messaging, jk is a muscle bunny and tae
kicks ass, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, all da feels,
Doctor Kim Taehyung | V, Doctor/Patient, Motorcycles, Time Skips,
Hurt/Comfort, Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Kim Taehyung | V, Anal Sex,
Smut, Blow Jobs, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Collections: BTS Fanfiction Archive, best boys
Stats: Published: 2018-05-30 Completed: 2018-06-26 Chapters: 12/12 Words:
41138

black versus blue

by shadowsinsounds

Summary

Taehyung had always dreaded meeting his soulmate, unlike the rest of the world’s
population. He always hid the words scrawled in black cursive on the inside of his right
wrist and felt terror at the thought of them turning blue, of his soulmate speaking them.

And as he sprinted down the packed Seoul sidewalk, hot tears streaming down his cheeks
and sobs choking his throat, he knew he'd been right.

Or was he?

Notes

another multi-chapter ! this one is very much a work in progress so updates will NOT be as
quick as LN&CS. thank you all so so much for your comments & kudos on my works, it
makes me smile :)

much love to you all, hope you enjoy !! hope everyone is happy & healthy & loving life :)
and feel free to come say hey on tumblr !
See the end of the work for more notes
 Chapter 1

Taehyung had always dreaded meeting his soulmate, unlike the rest of the world’s population. He
always hid the words scrawled in black cursive on the inside of his right wrist and felt terror at the
thought of them turning blue, of his soulmate speaking them.

And as he sprinted down the packed Seoul sidewalk, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs
choking his throat, he knew he had been right to to fear it.

People always looked at him strangely for his soulmate mark. After all, having Back off, freak
scribbled on your arm where other people had Hello or How can I help you? or, if you were his
best friend Jimin, You’re stupid hot, certainly makes a statement. Jimin commiserated with him
sometimes, pouting that his future soulmate will call him stupid but Taehyung usually just smacks
him gently upside the head because they both know that’s not what that comment means.

Taehyung was able to go days, months without thinking of the future interaction that was supposed
to make him happy but would only break his heart. When he turned thirteen, he took to wearing
multiple thin leather bracelets on his wrists, hiding the words. He was so sick of being called a
freak, sick of being tormented. After all, if his future soulmate, the one person supposed to stick by
his side and love him forever, called him a freak, he might as well be one.

So Taehyung didn't enjoy high school all that much. He stuck to his art, diving into his studies,
practically living in the studio. If not for Jimin gently bullying him, constantly dragging him
around in his wake, Tae probably would have died from the paint fumes by now.

Especially today, the start of their last week of high school. A group of classmates had gotten hold
of his sketchbook that morning, tearing pages as two of them held him pinned against the wall,
unable to protest. It was only after two teachers turned down the hallway, not even looking up, that
Tae was able to wrestle his way free and snatch his book back. He ignored the calls of “Freak!” at
his back and turned into the studio.

He hauled out a large piece of canvas that he was sure to catch hell for from his art teacher and
snatched a set of spray paints from his cubby. He snapped a mask over his nose and mouth and
threw a headband on his forehead to keep his deep brown hair out of his eyes, then selected the
black paint.

Jimin found him there a couple hours later, out of breath and windswept from dance practice. His
plain t-shirt and trackies were damp with sweat and he guzzled from a water bottle as if his life
depended on it. He frowned over at Tae, then heaved a sigh, clicking off the ancient radio and
waiting until Tae looked around at the sudden silence.

“Is it five already?” Tae’s eyes were dazed.

Jimin sighed and squeezed his friend’s shoulder, ignoring the paint flecks on Tae’s shirt and jeans.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I need coffee.”

“I want to finish this—”

“Tae,” interrupted Jimin, voice gentle. “It’s done. Come on.”

Taehyung sighed and wiped his hands on a clean rag, staring at his piece, before letting Jimin steer
him from the room.

A large canvas decorated over and over and over again with the word FREAK in different sizes and
colors stares after them.

The local coffee shop looked packed with high school students from five schools within the area.
Taehyung hated the place, always had, but Jimin loved the cheap drinks and, unlike Taehyung, was
actually quite popular with their classmates. It was the genuine beaming smile, the rounded cheeks
that made his eyes disappear into crescents, the childlike enthusiasm and boundless energy.

Some days, when the teasing and bullying got really bad, Taehyung thought his life would be easier
if he could keep Jimin to himself. There would be less interaction with the rest of the world. But he
always shoved that nasty thought away, knowing he would easily turn his back on all society if not
for his best friend.

They stood in line at the counter, Taehyung with his gaze fixed on his feet, Jimin chatting with
three girls from their History class in line in front of them. They cast Taehyung wary glances and
refused to say hi even when Jimin nudged at them all.

Jimin sighed when they move on. “They’re too pretty to be so bitchy.”

“It’s high school, Jiminie. Prettiness and bitchiness seem to go hand in hand.”

“It shouldn’t be that way,” said Jimin stubbornly.

“You shouldn’t put so much faith in people, you’re going to lose that wide-eyed innocence of
yours.” Taehyung waved away the pout he got in response. “Sorry, I’m sorry, damn it. Ignore me,
I’m in a mood.”

Jimin reached up to cross their six-inch height difference and slung an arm around Tae’s neck.
“You’re always in a mood,” said Jimin cheerfully, both of them ignoring the boys who shouldered
Taehyung on their way out. “It’s okay, Taetae, one more week and we’re off to SNU!”

Taehyung couldn’t wait.

They shuffled forward as the girls collected their orders and moved away, Jiminie paying for his
cappuccino and Taehyung’s mocha before Tae could protest. They moved to the side to wait, idly
looking at the crowd.

Taehyung’s eyes wandered, half-listening to Jimin’s gripes about new blisters on his heels from not
breaking in his new shoes before dance practice that day.

Suddenly, his breath caught in his chest.

A pair of eyes were staring at him from across the café. Eyes belonging to a tall gangly boy whose
body seemed stuck somewhere in puberty, all wide eyes and a large overbite and shaggy chestnut
hair covered in a backwards snapback, matched with a tall clumsy body that hadn’t been grown
into yet.

But the boy was gorgeous.

And shy, from the looks of things. The second their eyes met he looked down and blushed. He sat
at the end of a booth next to four rowdy boys, all baseball players from the look of the gear stashed
under the table. Taehyung didn’t recognize them so he figured they must be students at another
high school.

“Who are you looking at?” came Jimin’s curious voice, muffled as if he were underwater.

“Nobody,” said Tae, breathless, finally looking away and staring at the ground. He felt like he’d
just run a marathon, heart pounding, a drop of sweat running down his back.

What the hell?

“Okay. Well nobody is on his way over here.”

Taehyung whipped his head up, eyes wide, to see the gorgeous boy making his way through the
crowd. It seemed like he was indeed on his way over, until his steps turned slightly and he merely
went to a booth on the other side of the café, standing there greeting the occupants between
Taehyung and the exit.

Taehyung blew out a breath and turned to accept his coffee. What was he thinking? That a boy that
pretty would actually say hi to the town freak? In front of a coffee shop full of their peers, no less.

His knees were shaking. Even more so, when he catches sight of the FREAK scribbled on the side
of his cup and the mocking laughs of the barristers behind the bar.

Jimin scoffed in disgust and wrapped an arm around Tae’s waist. “Come on, Taetae, let’s go
home.”

Suddenly yearning for his bed and his dog and a cool, calm room, Taehyung nods, feeling
apathetic as he let his friend steer him out. Their way to the exit took them by a booth full of
Taehyung’s usual tormentors.

One boy stuck his foot out in Tae’s path, catching his boot and making Tae stumble. He yelped
with surprise and, unbalanced, collided hard with someone’s shoulder, his mocha all but exploding
at the impact. The hot coffee splattered everywhere and he yelped again, unable to catch his
balance before falling to his hands and knees.

“Back off, freak,” spat a harsh voice.

“S-sorry…” Taehyung managed to mumble, knees barking with pain. He looks up to see who he
collided with and instantly froze.

It was the gorgeous boy. His eyes were cold and suddenly mean as he winced in pain, holding his
t-shirt soaked in hot coffee away from his body.

Of more immediate importance was the burning sensation on Taehyung’s right wrist, one
untouched by the spilled coffee. He lunged to his feet and grappled with his leather bracelets,
ignoring the stares as he rips them free and stares at the letters scrawled there.

The letters turned blue before his eyes.

The gorgeous boy let out a similar hiss and lifted his own wrist.

S-sorry was written there. In blue.

They stared at one another. The gorgeous boy looked to be in shock, his expression still twisted in
a mean expression but his eyes suddenly lost in confusion.
The café took up the chant. “Freak, freak, freak…”

“His own soulmate thinks he’s a freak,” cackled a boy nearby.

Taehyung felt his eyes fill. He looked around at the crowd, a mess of jeering, laughing faces that
blur together. He vaguely heard Jimin shouting at them all. Of more importance was the gorgeous
boy, still staring at him, saying nothing and not moving an inch.

Taehyung felt his heart break, and he sprinted out of the café.

He ran down the sidewalk, tears overflowing, gasping in harsh breaths between sobs.

He always knew it would hurt, meeting his soulmate.

But he never knew it would tear his heart so completely in two.

 Chapter 2

10 years later

Taehyung stood before the doors of the bustling Seoul hospital, looking around with a smile.
Attending Cambridge University for medical school after finishing his undergraduate degree at
SNU was the best decision he had ever made. He was able to work with no distractions, push
himself to graduate at the top of his class as Dr. Kim Taehyung, with offers from top hospitals all
over the world. But he followed the instincts pulling at his gut and returned home to Seoul.

Two years later, he still didn’t regret it.

“You look lost in thought,” commented a voice nearby. A man stepped up beside him, tall and
handsome, with broad shoulders and perfectly coiffed blonde hair. He was already dressed in clean
blue scrubs, a hospital ID tag pinned to his chest pocket, a shoulder bag slung over his shoulder.

“Jin hyung.” Taehyung turned to greet the seasoned nurse, one of his best friends, with a smile. He
glanced around but Jin was alone. “Where’s Namjoon hyung? He always walks you to work.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “He spilled coffee on his shirt, he had to run home and change so he wouldn’t
be late for a meeting at the record label.”

“How many times is that this week?”

“Fourth,” responded Jin dryly as the pair head inside. “And it’s only Tuesday.” Suddenly he poked
at Taehyung’s clothes as they stepped into an elevator and pressed the button for the surgical floor.
“Wait, wait. Look at you, Doc. What’s with the model digs?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. He wore a simple white collared shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows,
paired with nice black slacks and black loafers, nothing too outlandish. But he supposed that
compared to his usual scrubs and white doctor’s coat it was quite the change.

“I have a last minute meeting with the rest of the hospital chiefs,” he explained, leaning against the
wall of the elevator with a sigh. “Something about changes to the budget.”

Jin hummed sympathetically. “Must be hell being Chief of Surgery. That’s why they pay you the
big bucks,” he teased.

Tae shoved at his shoulder, eyes drawn to his own right wrist, where the leather strap of the large
wristwatch he wore covered the blue words.

Jin wore his proudly, but Tae thought who wouldn’t be proud to wear the words I hope you’re my
soulmate because wow you’re pretty emblazoned on their wrists. Jin loved to tell the story of
studying in the school library when an audio engineering student tripped and fell flat on his face
nearby, Jin running to help him up only for them to latch eyes and Namjoon to murmur those
words. I hope so too was the reply he wears.

It was a beautiful story, one that Taehyung truly enjoyed to hear. But it was one that haunts his
thoughts when he remembers high school.

He hadn’t left his house for a week after what happened in that café. He didn’t attend his high
school graduation ceremony. His parents had been confused but understanding, once they saw the
blue words but no soulmate attached to his hip. College had been wonderful, more so once Jimin
came to him a month into their first term and nearly cried as he apologized for being so over
friendly in high school, for talking and chatting with all the people who teased Tae. Tae had merely
replied that Jimin would have had to have been mute to avoid talking to anyone who teased him,
and Jimin had pouted. Tae never thought his best friend did anything wrong in the first place. He
had yelled, that day in the café. The first time Jimin had ever yelled, at anyone, even if Tae was too
out of it to really appreciate it.

They decided to room together, and Tae was able to make friends who didn't think him a freak.
Partially because he always hid the words on his wrist. Watching Jimin fall in love with his own
soulmate (You’re stupid hot followed by You realize stupid is the worst adjective to put there,
right? countered by Well at least we both have stupid written on our wrists) over the course of their
sophomore year had begun the course of thinking that steered Tae from his art degree to pre-med.

The fundamental principle of art was emotion. He found it cathartic, painting and drawing away his
sadness, his loneliness, but it was taking a vicious toll on him. Medicine was straightforward. A
riddle at times, but constant essential steps of diagnosing and treating. He escaped into it gratefully.

Plus he enjoyed it. And he was good. There was a reason he was the youngest Chief of Surgery at
a major metropolitan hospital in thirty years.

Taehyung was startled from his thoughts by the elevator doors opening, expelling himself and a
handful of nurses and residents into the surgical wing. Jin watched a few interns stare at Taehyung
with awe bordering on hero worship in their eyes, and snorted a bit when Taehyung hardly cast
them a glance.

After two years of friendship, Jin knew full well that Tae kept his emotions dead-bolted down
deep inside him. It took months for quick greetings and cups of coffee to turn into soju at the local
pub, months longer for coffee cart scones to turn into home-cooked meals at Jin and Namjoon’s
apartment. It had been worth it. Taehyung is a sweetheart, Jin thought. A thoughtful, intelligent
man with a giving heart. But he kept that heart tucked away, and it didn’t take Jin long to figure out
the reason could be traced to the blue writing on his wrist and lack of soulmate.

Jin didn’t know the story, and refused to ask. He and Namjoon hoped the younger boy would
confide in them at some point, and until that day, Jin took it upon himself to care for him. It didn’t
seem like anyone else would. Besides, Jin wanted to.

Namjoon liked to joke that Taehyung was too old to be adopted. Jin merely stared him down until
he backed away with his hands in the air.

The pair paused in front of the OR board.

“Reschedule Mr. Lee’s cystotomy for right after lunch,” requested Taehyung, head cocked. “This
meeting will take all morning. Ms. Park’s cholecystectomy may have to be pushed back an hour or
so but you have her eating out of the palm of your hand, she shouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll steal her some extra chocolate pudding, she’ll put up with anything,” said Jin with a smile.

They parted ways with a wave of farewell.

The meeting was as dry as Taehyung had anticipated. The chiefs of all the departments huddled
around a conference table with the COO of the hospital, bickering about funding disagreements for
the upcoming quarter. Since Taehyung had taken over the surgery department, profits from
surgeries had skyrocketed, so he wasn’t fussed. He put in a request for equipment that Jin and the
other nurses had long been requiring, was immediately granted the request, and proceeded to tune
out the rest of the chatter.

His cell phone on the table in front of him abruptly went off, three sharp pings denoting an
emergent patient requiring his attention, and he immediately got to his feet.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I have a patient in the ER,” he announced, and strode from the
room calmly without a backwards glance.

Once he was out of view, he began to sprint.

“Hold the elevator,” he barked as he sees the doors closing, a flustered hospital administrator
obeying him as Taehyung ran inside and began pummeling the button for the first floor emergency
room. He whipped his stethoscope from his back pocket and slung it around his neck before
removing the three rings decorating his fingers and zipping them into another pocket.

The doors opened onto the chaos of the ER and Taehyung headed straight for the first trauma bay,
nurses and staff all but jumping out of his way.

“What have we got?” he barked, snapping gloves out of a container as he moved to the side of the
bed.

“Young adult male, twenty six years old. Motorcycle accident,” rattled off Jin, voice grim as he cut
the boy’s bloodied t-shirt away to reveal a gaping chest wound and multiple abrasions. “A car ran a
red light and hit him square on the side. Bystanders say he went flying into the windshield then hit
the asphalt when the car braked.”

“Was he wearing a helmet at least?” demanded Taehyung, stethoscope already pressed to the boy’s
chest.

“Yes, with a full face mask.”

“Thank god for that,” muttered Tae, then he raised his voice to speak to the team. “I want portable
chest x-rays, stat, I’m wondered about fractured ribs, he’s tachycardic with decreased breath
sounds on the right. Call Neuro for a consult. Get him started on a bolus of fluids and I want full
bloodwork and a tox screen.”

“He’s not drunk,” shouted a sudden voice, strangely familiar. There was a flurry of motion at the
entrance to the trauma bay and Tae headed there after a quick reminder to Jin to stat his x-rays.

Park Jimin stood there in sweaty workout clothes, a small laceration decorating his left temple
surrounded by vivid black bruising. The hair he had dyed a bright pink last year lay limply against
his skull, his eyes watery and wide.

“Jiminie?” Tae reached his best friend’s side and automatically reached towards his injury. “What
the hell are you doing here, what happened—”

“He’s a friend of mine from the company, we dance together,” Jimin said rapidly, referring to the
entertainment company where he worked as a backup dancer. He shook off Tae’s attention. “We
just finished a rehearsal and were heading to lunch, I was following him in my car, my car hit the
asshole who hit him when the guy ran the red light. My head hit the window, that’s all.” He
latched onto Taehyung’s arm, desperate. “He’s not drunk, Tae, he didn’t do anything wrong, that
asshole ran a red light.”
“Okay, Jimin, okay.” Tae waved another nurse over. “Mina, take care of my friend here, get him
admitted and page someone from Plastics to take care of the head lac. What’s your friend’s name,
Jiminie?”

“Jeon Jungkook,” he said immediately, shaking now.

“I’m going to take care of Jungkook, okay?” He waited for Jimin to nod shakily. “Do you know
how to reach his emergency contact, his family?”

“His parents died years ago and he has no siblings. He’s closest to Yoongi.”

“Your Yoongi hyung?” Tae’s eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of it, then lets it go. That
wasn’t the priority just then. “Then call your soulmate and get him down here, okay?”

“Doctor!” shouted Jin just as the machines started blaring alarms.

Taehyung gestured for the nurse to take Jimin aside despite his friend’s protests and bulleted back
to his patient, who now seemed to be awake and fighting the nurses.

“No, don’t,” the boy mumbled in weak protest, unable to even lift his own arms. “W-what’s going
on?”

Instantly Taehyung leaned over him, noting, despite himself, the pretty eyes, the dark hair, the
overbite. “Sir,” he said, strong but gentle at the same time, fully commanding the boy’s attention.
“You’ve been in an accident. You’re at Seoul Metropolitan Hospital. My name is Dr. Kim and I’ll
be taking care of you.”

The boy blinked weakly at him, slowly calming down. “Pretty,” he murmured, before his head
lolled to the side and his eyes closed. He passed out.

“Sir? Sir!” shouted Tae as the alarms blare again. He checked the readouts of the ECG machine.
“He’s hypotensive and tachycardic, let’s bolus more fluids and set up a dopamine CRI, stat.”

“Bloodwork and tox screen are clear, and x-rays are in,” shouted Jin over the chaos as nurses
swarmed to obey.

Tae studied the screen, heart sinking for some reason even as he nodded understanding.
“Pneumothorax. Two fractured ribs, one of them must have punctured his right lung,” he muttered
grimly, frowning in concentration. “And he’s bleeding into his chest. I need to get in there. I want
an MRI to check for any head injury, have Neuro meet us there. Then book an OR, let’s get
moving.”

The nurses wheeled his bed away as Jin gets on the phone, ordering the surgical wing to prepare an
operating room. Tae stepped out to see Jimin perched anxiously on a nearby bed, a resident calmly
suturing his head wound.

Jimin’s soulmate, Min Yoongi, stood beside him, clutching his hand and murmuring something in
a soothing voice. He wore a black hoodie and jeans that told Tae he’d been working in his studio
before he got the call.

“Tae,” called Jimin with relief, eyes wild. “I saw them take Jungkookie, what’s going on, is he
okay—”

“He has severe internal injuries, I need to operate right away,” said Taehyung calmly. He turned to
squeeze Yoongi’s shoulder. “Yoongi hyung. You both are free to wait in the waiting area once
Jiminie gets cleared.”

“Taehyung. I’m the closest thing that kid has to family,” said Yoongi, clutching Tae’s shoulder in
return. “Will he be okay?”

“He has a couple broken ribs. One has punctured his lungs and caused a build up of air,
compressing his ability to breathe. I need to get in there, repair the defect and stop the internal
bleeding. But he’s young and otherwise healthy. He’ll have a rough recovery but, barring any
serious complications, he should come through it all right.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they’re damp, and Tae can’t help but
wonder who the hell his patient is to make the impassive Min Yoongi emotional.

“You’ve got to save him, he’s a good kid,” Yoongi managed to say, holding Jimin’s hand tighter.

“I’m sure he is,” soothed Taehyung. “We’re doing everything we can. I’ll send someone out to
update you as soon as I can, okay? He’s in good hands, I promise.”

“I know he is,” said Jimin fiercely.

Taehyung nodded to them both before striding away.

 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

i love all of your comments, thank you thank you <3

hope you enjoy :)

The MRI revealed a mild concussion but no signs of brain injury. Jeon Jungkook was immediately
rushed to surgery. The operation was long, exhausting and grueling, but it went smoothly.
Taehyung was able to realign the ribs and ligate the small vessel that had ruptured and caused the
internal hemorrhaging. Lung function was restored via placement of a chest tube with no
complications, the hypotension and tachycardia resolved.

Taehyung stepped back from the operating table and stripped off his gowns and sterile gloves as
soon as he finished suturing the nasty chest wound.

“Let’s keep him on a morphine drip and I want hourly respiration checks,” he called to the staff as
nurses begin removing the sterile drapes.

“His friends said he has no significant other?” asked one nurse, head cocked down at the boy’s
right wrist.

“Correct.” Taehyung cracks his back, dreaming of a cool shower and an enormous sandwich with a
cold glass of milk.

“But his soul mark is blue,” the nurse said, seemingly bewildered.

Another nurse chided her. “Soulmates pass away, Minseo, don’t be unprofessional.”

“Marks turn grey when the other half dies, everyone knows that,” Minseo argued back. “But his is
blue. So why wouldn’t his soulmate be here?”

Taehyung could have sworn that his own mark tingled from where he kept his wrist hidden in a
clean towel. “Nurses. That is not your job,” he scolded.

Instantly there is a flurry of bowing, Minseo blushing and muttering, “My apologies, Doctor.” The
recovery team took control over the patient and transported him to the intensive care unit for
monitoring.

Taehyung went out into the waiting area and immediately saw Jimin and Yoongi get to their feet,
hands clasped tight. There were tear tracks drying on Jimin’s cheeks, and obvious tension in
Yoongi’s jaw.

“Mr. Jeon is okay,” said Tae immediately, as soon as he reached them. Jimin collapsed weakly
back into his chair, face in his hands.

Yoongi sighed hugely, the tension draining out of him like water from a sieve. He patted his
soulmate’s back before swallowing. “Thank you, Tae,” he said, voice weak. “Thank you. He’ll
really be okay?”
“He’s got a long recovery ahead of him,” warned Taehyung gently. “We needed to place a chest
tube to allow us to remove the air from his chest and let his lung re-expand. He’ll need to stay here
for five to seven days before the tube can be removed. And after that he’ll need to stay off his feet
for a couple weeks more at least. But, again, barring any complications, he’ll be okay.”

Jimin lunged to his feet and grabbed him in a fierce hug, Tae instantly rubbing his friend’s back
and crooning softly in his ear, “It’s okay, Jiminie. He’ll be okay.”

“You saved him,” whispered Jimin. “Thank you, Taetae.”

Tae eased back. “I was just doing my job.”

“And you’re damn good at it,” put in Yoongi, squeezing Tae’s shoulder again. “Can we see him?
Jungkookie isn’t a fan of hospitals, he’s going to be freaked out.”

“He’s still recovering from the anesthesia, he’ll be asleep for a while yet. Why don’t you guys go
get cleaned up, come back for evening visiting hours? He may be awake by then. I’ll call you
immediately if there are any changes.”

Jimin frowned, but Yoongi reached over to rub the back of his neck. “Come on, babe,” he
whispered. “Let’s go grab a shower and some food, okay? Maybe pick up your prescription? Your
head has to be killing you.”

Jimin rubbed his eyes with his fists like a small child, allowed Yoongi to pull him closer.
Taehyung watched them with affection in his eyes. He loved the way Yoongi takes care of his best
friend, always had, even back when they just met in their sophomore year of college and Tae was
struggling with jealousy.

“Okay,” Jimin finally acquiesced, sighing. “Okay, but we’ll be back. He’s our favorite dongsaeng,
we’re all he’s got.”

Tae felt a bit taken aback that he’s never heard of the younger boy then, but then again, Taehyung
practically lived at the hospital. It had been ages since he caught up with the couple outside of
occasional texts and calls.

“We’ll take good care of him,” Tae promised again, hugging them both before waving them away.
“Go on. We’ll see you tonight.”

Taehyung watched them walk away, hand in hand, and he smiled a bit, even as his heart cried out
in loneliness.

Taehyung checked in on his other hospitalized patients in the surgical wing, reading through charts
and checking post-operative statuses. He gently criticized a resident for forgetting to initial his
charts, then complimented a nurse for keeping one of his elderly patients company during her
lunch break.

Taehyung paid attention.

After finishing his rounds, Taehyung excused himself to the doctor’s lounge, sitting down for the
first time in six hours. He could have made the second surgery scheduled for the day, he could do a
cholecystectomy practically in his sleep, but something wasn’t right. He felt off, anxious for some
reason, and he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. He was too responsible a surgeon to go
in on a patient when his head wasn’t in the right place. Hopefully his patients would understand
being pushed back a day due to the emergency.

He couldn’t attribute the anxiety to interacting with Yoongi and Jimin. In the past, yes, there were
times during college when he ached to have what they have, when he wondered what it would be
like to have someone at his side. But those thoughts always stirred up memories of his one
disastrous interaction with his soulmate.

The soulmate who never chased him down, never followed him out of the café. The soulmate who
must have realized that the entire café obviously knew who Taehyung was, the soulmate who
could have easily gotten his name, his school. Taehyung hated himself for the weeks he spent in
sorrowful anticipation, wondering if his soulmate regretted his outburst, regretted calling Taehyung
a freak, if his soulmate would find him again and try to fix what he broke.

But he never saw the boy again.

After ten years, after growing close to Jin hyung and Namjoon hyung, after watching Jimin and
Yoongi hyung’s relationship flourish and bloom, Taehyung prided himself on growing familiar
enough with soulmate couples that interacting with them didn’t send him into a pitiful self-hating
spiral.

So he didn’t understand the cause of his current anxiety.

Jin walked in just as Taehyung was debating tracking down his colleague in psychiatrics to spew
out all of the nonsense in his head like he did with his therapist.

“Excellent work on that motorcycle case,” complimented Jin, handing Taehyung a muffin and a
fresh cup of coffee, knowing that the boy was awful at taking care of himself.

Taehyung took a bite out of reflex before realizing just how hungry he was. “Our team did most of
it.”

“And isn’t it just like you to not accept a compliment. Not many surgeons could have handled that
level of soft tissue damage and internal hemorrhage. You did good. Now say ‘thank you, Jin
hyung.’”

“Thank you, Jin hyung,” parroted Taehyung obediently, giggling a little when Jin rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Jeon is still sleeping, I’m having Minseo keep an eye on him until he’s fully awake and
responsive,” continued Jin, speaking in his capacity as Chief Surgical Nurse.

“I thought her shift ended an hour ago.”

Jin made a skeptical sound. “She was unprofessional and out of line. What if the patient had a
rapid recovery from the anesthesia, woke up and heard? Luckily he seems sensitive to the meds
and is still sleeping like a baby but still. She was out of line.”

“She’s young.”

“Are you overriding my decision?” The words were amiable.

Taehyung snorted. He would sooner light himself on fire than combat his Chief of Nurses on an
executive decision, and Jin hyung knew it.

“That’s what I thought. Oh, and Mr. Lee and Ms. Park were fine with pushing their operations until
tomorrow,” added Jin, voice muffled as he bent over to touch his toes with a groan.
“Good. I want blood pressure checks on Mr. Lee twice an hour overnight, his resting heart rate is
dangerously low. I’m worried about hypertension, especially with his weight.”

“I’ll add it to his chart. You’re off tonight, why don’t you go get some rest?”

“My friends are good friends with Mr. Jeon, they’ll be back to visit. I want to stay and keep an eye
on things anyway.”

“Jimin and Yoongi?” Jin’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. He had been hearing stories about the pair
for ages but had never met.

Taehyung felt a rush of guilt. He had never purposefully kept his friends apart. But he never hosted
gatherings or invited them all out together for a drink, either. His excuse was that he was too busy
at the hospital but he knew it was for fear of drowning in his own loneliness if faced with two
happily soulmated couples.

“Yeah, Mr. Jeon dances with Jimin apparently,” said Taehyung, finishing his coffee.

“Ah, explains the body. If only all our patients took such good care of themselves. Evening visiting
hours aren’t for a couple hours, why don’t you grab a nap?”

Taehyung cocked a brow at him. “Do I look that bad?”

“You look ravishing, darling, but you have a full slate tomorrow. Rest while you can.”

“All right, all right,” caved Taehyung, grumbling. He waved Jin away with a huff. “I’ll rest if you
go run herd on my patients.”

Jin saluted before scampering out. “Sir, yes, sir!”

Taehyung stretched out on the sofa, letting his eyes fall close slowly. His last thought was of
shaggy black hair and an overbite before he succumbed to sleep.

Taehyung’s nap didn’t last long. He jolted awake after an hour to the sound of his pager going off,
sneakers hitting the ground on autopilot before he was fully awake. He took a moment to splash
water on his face then sprinted to the ER.

At three in the morning he all but stumbled out of the operating room after his routine
appendectomy was compromised by a surgical intern perforating the cecum. Taehyung was able to
correct the mistake, no problem, but had to give the baby doctor a dressing down afterwards. It
always left a bad taste in his mouth.

Thankful that he didn’t work in a teaching hospital and have to deal with a pack of interns chasing
their tails, instead only rarely dealing with one or two, Taehyung sighed and headed towards the
intensive care unit. He checked on a couple of patients then detoured into Mr. Jeon’s room.

Minseo was standing at the foot of the patient’s bed, scribbling in his chart and yawning fiercely.
She startled, badly, then bowed low when he walked in.

“He hasn’t woken yet, Doctor,” she said nervously as Taehyung went to the side of the bed. “But
I’ve checked his vitals twice an hour since he came out of the OR and everything looks good, no
red flags.”
Taehyung accepted the chart and looked through it, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Nice work,
Minseo. Next time just keep the comments to yourself, okay?”

She blushed. “Yes, sir.”

“Now go home and get some sleep, you’re way over your shift.”

Grateful, she bowed again. “Yes, sir. Have a good night.”

Taehyung examined his sleeping patient thoroughly once she left, checking all the vitals, his ECG
leads, the fluid pump. Once reassured everything looked good, he pulled a chair close to the bed
and sat. More like collapsed down to sit but no one was there to see, the floor calm and dimmed for
the night. He heard hushed voices from the nurse’s station a few feet from the doorway but
Taehyung felt mostly alone, beside the sleeping boy.

He cast a last glance at his patient, taking in the dark rings under his closed eyes, paled skin, the
barely open mouth and pink lips, the defined cheekbones and tough jawline, the shaggy black hair
cascading messily over his forehead. Something about the boy pulled at him but Taehyung was
positive he’d never heard the name Jeon Jungkook before.

Shaking himself, he pulled his phone from his pocket, illuminating the screen and snorting at the
string of messages from Jin.

From: Jin hyung

jimin and yoongi are the cutest little couple I’ve ever seen omgggg

I wanted to squish them both then take them home and feed them my homemade kimbap

But Joonie told me I should probably wait until I know them better -_-

they were nervous that Mr. Jeon hadn’t woken yet but I reassured them that every patient recovers
differently from surgery

they said they’d be back first thing in the morning and asked me your favorite type of breakfast
pastry

i said anything that wasn’t purchased by you

love you, get some rest

and don’t stay there all night or I’ll come back to forcibly eject you

Taehyung snorted a laugh and texted back.

To: Jin hyung

thanks for the update, hyung

I’ll go home soon

love you too

Taehyung rolled his eyes a little. Jin treated him like he was some hapless student and not the Chief
of Surgery. But he couldn’t deny how much he appreciated it. His own parents were quite distant,
accepting the money he sent them and using it to travel the world as they pleased. They weren’t
unkind people but there was no doubt they were inherently selfish.

There were also quick messages from Yoongi and Jimin.

From: jiminie <3

love you taetae

thank you for everything

we’ll be back in the morning with breakfast for you and your staff

<3 <3 xoxoxo

From: smolest hyung

thank you taehyung

just

thank you

Everything about Taehyung softened, and he sighed. He was an asshole for not spending time with
his friends just because they were soulmated. He resolved then and there to do better.

The soft beeping from nearby suddenly accelerated, denoting a swift increase in heart rate.
Taehyung tucked his phone away and stood, legs threatening to buckle in exhaustion, but he stood
at his patient’s bedside nonetheless as the boy’s eyelids fluttered.

Eyes still not fully opened, the boy whimpered low in his throat.

Taehyung’s heart shook.

He didn’t have time to analyze the strange reaction, for his patient began weakly thrashing, eyes
twitching behind closed lids. Following instinct, Tae gripped his hand and made a shushing noise.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he murmured, leaning close. “Take it easy. You were in an accident but you’re
okay now, you’re here with me. Can you open your eyes for me?”

The boy whimpered again.

“Shh, you can do it, I promise. Just open your eyes, okay? Open your eyes for me.”

Beautiful dark eyes fluttered open and locked on Taehyung, pinning him in place absolutely.
Taehyung couldn’t have moved away even if he wanted to.
“Pretty,” the boy breathed in a broken, rough voice.

Now Tae’s heart fluttered. Something danced in his stomach, and his legs suddenly felt weaker.
What the hell?

Disregarding it, he focused on his patient as the boy coughed a little.

“Take it easy,” said Taehyung gently as he reached for the nearby cup of water, holding the straw
to the boy’s lips. “Just a couple sips.”

He drank as if he’d spent twenty years wandering a desert, completely parched. Taehyung took the
cup away after a few sips and nearly grinned at the pout he received as thanks.

“I…” The boy coughed a little, then again, and weakly looked around the room. “Someone hit me.
On my bike. Hurt,” he whimpered.

Taehyung squeezed his hand. “I know. You were brought here to the hospital in an ambulance.”

“Hospital?” The boy’s eyes widened in recognition and Tae felt lost as they filled with panic, with
fear. “No, no, I can’t. I c-can’t be here.”

An alarm went off as the beeping skyrocketed, alerting two of the night shift nurses who rushed
inside to check the machines.

“Sedative?” one brusquely asked, then flinched when Tae turned a devastating glare on her.

“We don’t unnecessarily drug patients for having a panic attack,” he spat, then dismissed the
stunned nurses completely, turning to sit on the side of the bed and clasp his patient’s hand in his
own, holding them in his lap.

“Hey now, hey,” he murmured, as the boy’s eyes wheeled wildly in his head and his breath came
so rapidly his injured chest shook with the force of his inhales and exhales. “Mr. Jeon.”

“Jungkook,” the boy whimpered, tears filling his eyes. His hand squeezed Taehyung’s so tightly
the knuckles shone white.

“Jungkook,” murmured Taehyung, bringing his other hand to cup the boy’s jaw. The skin felt soft
and warm beneath his thumb. “Jungkook, look at me. You need to breathe.”

“Can’t. C-can’t be here.”

“Yes you can, you can breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay? Can you
do that for me? Please?”

Jungkook sobbed again, shaking like a leaf, but his mouth closed as he obediently fought to inhale.
He gagged, coughing, then sobbed again. Taehyung kept squeezing his hand, kept whispering him
through it, eyes refusing to look away from Jungkook’s as he managed one complete trembling
inhalation, following up with a shaky exhale.

Slowly, so slowly, the rapid beeping slowed as Jungkook’s heart rate decreased to normal, and his
chest rose and fell in slow, deep, even breaths. But he didn’t release Taehyung’s hand.

“Okay,” soothed Taehyung, offering him another sip of water with his free hand. “Okay. Are you
feeling all right? Are you in any pain?”

Jungkook shifted a little, and grimaced. “Chest feels tight,” he whispered. “But no pain.”
“At least we know the morphine is working. Do you remember the accident?”

Jungkook bit his dry lip, displaying front teeth that reminded an endeared Taehyung of a bunny.
Tae shook himself and focused.

“I was headed to lunch with Jimin hyung,” he whispered slowly. “I went through a green light and
s-suddenly there were horns everywhere and a t-truck hit me.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” said Taehyung, voice so gentle. Jungkook’s eyes didn’t waver from his,
and Tae started to feel dizzy at the intensity. “The impact fractured two of your ribs, one of which
punctured your lung and caused what we call a pneumothorax, a build up of trapped air in your
chest, as well as some internal bleeding. You were rushed into surgery and I was able to fix your
injuries. You’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks to you.” Those hazy eyes were suddenly piercing. “Dr. Kim.”

“You remember my name. That's good.” Tae blew out a breath, before flashing his pen light in
Jungkook’s eyes, testing the pupillary response. “That’s a good sign. You got a mild concussion as
well, plus scrapes and bruises over practically every inch of your body. We had to place a chest
tube to drain the air and prevent it from coming back, that should help with your breathing. We’ll
take it out in a few days once your lung has healed and can function properly without it.”

“A few days?” His voice shook.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Tae, and he meant it. “We’ll do our best to get you out of here as soon as
possible. I realize you don’t like it here.”

Jungkook struggled to swallow. “Parents d-died in a hospital,” he whispered brokenly.

“Sophomore year of high school. Car accident.” He grimaced. “That’s why I prefer motorcycles.”

“I’m so sorry.” It was the only thing Taehyung could think to say.

“You’re being far too nice to me,” Jungkook said, head sinking into the pillow as if he was
exhausted. His eyes were only half open now as he stared up at Taehyung with nothing but regret in
his eyes.

Taehyung just couldn’t figure out why.

“You’re my patient,” said Taehyung, nonplussed. “Of course I’m kind. I’ll always be kind to you.”

“Even if I wasn’t kind to you?”

Frowning, Tae cocked his head. “What are you talking about?” He blinked, grasping at straws,
even as Jungkook began to cry again. “You’ve never been unkind to me.”

Jungkook only stared at him and cried. “I chased after you, you know,” he whispered.

Taehyung’s fragile heart stopped beating altogether.

“I fucked up. I was a stupid k-kid and I d-didn’t understand, I couldn’t have known that you were
him—”

Suddenly frightened, for no reason he could name, Taehyung tried to back away, but Jungkook
redoubled the strength of his grip, holding his hand fiercely.

“Don’t—” pleaded Taehyung, overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never been more sorry for anything. I chased after you, but…” His voice failed,
his breathing harsh and unsteady.

Despite everything, Tae groped for his wrist, checking his pulse, leaned in to tilt his chin up to
make his breathing easier. He could never ignore one of his patients in distress, ever.

“Breathe,” said Taehyung.

“No. No, because somehow I’ve been dropped in your lap after ten fucking years,” murmured
Jungkook, tears rolling across his temples to soak his pillow. “Ten years of wondering how you’re
doing, where you are. I chased after you that day. But I got a call from the h-hospital before I
caught you. Telling me my parents died.”

Taehyung’s heart broke all over again. “This can’t be,” he protested weakly, but he couldn’t bring
himself to shake off the boy’s grip. “I c-can’t—”

Jungkook rotated their hands, baring his right wrist that Taehyung still had two fingers pressed to
as he monitored his rapid pulse. Staring down at their intertwined fingers, Tae slowly moved his
other hand.

And saw S-sorry…, etched there in as brilliant a blue as the day they met ten years ago.

“Been t-trying to find you, for ten years. To apologize,” Jungkook whispered, head falling towards
his shoulder, exhaustion all but radiating out of him. “You s-saved my life before I c-could. I’m
sorry. Thank you.”

And Jungkook fell asleep, hand falling slack in Taehyung’s, his tears ceasing their inexorable
tracks and the frown lines in his forehead smoothing out.

On autopilot, Taehyung reached out and straightened his head, fluffed the pillow supporting his
neck. He used a clean towel to dab Jungkook’s face dry, placed his arms neatly at his sides and
pulled the blanket up to cover him, tucking him in safely. Then he left the room, padding to the
nurse’s station.

“Soomi,” he said hoarsely, gesturing to his favorite night nurse. “Mr.…” His voice died. He
cleared his throat and tried again. “Mr. Jeon awoke and was lucid for a brief period of time. He’s
sleeping now. Check his vitals every two hours but otherwise let him rest for the night, he needs
his sleep.”

“Of course. Will do, Doctor.” Soomi hesitated, wide eyes concerned. “Sir, are you okay? You
don’t look well.”

Taehyung stared at her for a moment. “It’s been a long day,” he finally murmured. “I’m quite
exhausted, I think. I’m going to catch some sleep.”

“Maybe you should take a day off tomorrow,” the motherly nurse suggested kindly, patting his
forearm. “You haven’t taken a day off in the whole two years you’ve worked here, no one would
blame you.”

Leave the hospital? Now?

No.

“I’m quite all right,” was all he said. “Thank you for your hard work. I’ll see you at change of shift
tomorrow.”
Robotically, he walked away down the hall, not noticing Soomi staring after him in overwhelming
concern. He turned down a few deserted hallways until he found his favorite on-call room, the one
with the comfier bed and thicker walls that better quieted the clamor of the surgical wing. He
locked the door and sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes, then removed his scrub top,
leaving just the pants on. He rolled into a ball on his side, clutching a pillow to his chest as he
always did.

Then he cried himself to sleep.

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

hi hi !! there will be tons of fluff from here on out cause i love fluffy taekook <3

thx as always for the kudos, comments & love ! have a wonderful start to your week
everyone

Taehyung’s pager woke him at seven in the morning and he rushed straight to surgery to assist his
colleague with an emergency liver transplant before immediately performing Mr. Lee’s cystotomy,
removing the painful bladder stones that had been plaguing the man for weeks. On a roll,
Taehyung had his team prep Ms. Park at the same time and removed her gallbladder with
efficiency that had his team and interns gaping at him.

By the time he retreated back to the doctor’s lounge afterwards for a bracing shower, changed into
clean scrubs and chugged a cup of coffee, it was near noon, the surgical wing bustling on a busy
Wednesday.

He approached the nurse’s station and saw Jin leaning against it, the nurse perking up at the sight
of him and immediately thrusting a basket of muffins towards him, as well as a banana.

“Eat. Now,” he said sternly, not allowing Taehyung to speak a word until he’d polished off the
banana and two blueberry muffins, chasing it down with the bottle of water that Jin held out next.

Feeling less shaky, Taehyung grinned at him in thanks. “My savior. What would I do without you,
hyung?”

“Starve and die,” he said, snarky. “But your friends supplied your salvation this morning. Mr. Jeon
did well overnight. He woke again an hour ago when your friends first got here. I thought he was
going to have a panic attack but he managed to calm himself down right before his friends came
in.”

“He doesn’t like hospitals,” responded Tae noncommittedly. They paused in the doorway of
Jungkook’s room.

Wait, Jungkook? Since when did Taehyung start thinking of him as Jungkook?

“You spoke?”

“I was there when he awoke last night, we had a brief conversation. I was able to ease him through
a panic attack.”

Taehyung avoided Jin’s questioning eyes by peering into the room.

Jimin sat in the same chair Taehyung had occupied the previous night, pulled up close on the far
side of Jungkook’s bed. Yoongi stood behind him, an arm around his shoulders.

Jungkook was awake, the head of his bed propped up so he reclined easily. His bruises looked
more brutal in the daylight cascading through the open blinds on the window, his skin more
fragile. But his eyes were lively as he smiled over at his friends, talking softly, with no hint of the
panic, fear or regret he had shown Taehyung last night.

Tae was almost loathe to disturb the peaceful scene. But he had a job to do.

“Morning, all,” he greeted softly as he walked in, startling Jimin, who looked over at him with a
beaming smile before jumping up to hug him.

“There he is!” crowed Jimin, swaying them from side to side. “The rock star! Did you eat some
muffins? Your friend Jin hyung told us about the four surgeries you’ve done since we saw you
yesterday, like holy shit, Tae, I always knew you were brilliant but damn—”

But all Taehyung thought, as Jimin raved about him, was, did Jimin know?

Did Jimin know that his dancer friend, his supposed dongsaeng, was the soulmate who had broken
Tae’s heart in high school?

He had to. Jimin was there that day, he saw everything in that café, he saw the words flare blue on
Tae’s wrist, saw the echoing flash of blue script on Jungkook’s wrist. Jimin had to have recognized
him, had to have seen the soulmate mark.

But Jimin acted the same as he always did.

Jungkook was watching them with a nervous expression, like a bomb was about to drop. The mix
of connections and histories were confusing and gave Taehyung a headache as he gently
disentangled from his best friend to examine his patient.

Jungkook tensed as he came closer, watching Taehyung warily, like he was bracing for a blow or a
harsh word. Tae didn’t like it. But he didn’t know how to fix it. His hands felt stiff and not his own
as he listened to Jungkook’s chest through his stethoscope, ignoring the firm muscles he could feel
through the thin cotton hospital gown.

“How’s your pain?” asked Taehyung as he examined the insertion site of the chest tube before
gently peeling back the bandage to peer at his stitches.

“Fine.”

“Don’t lie.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “He turned down his morphine.”

“Yoongi hyung,” whined Jungkook. “I’m not hurting, I promise.”

“You can always up the meds again if you wish,” said Taehyung, gesturing to the switch where
Jungkook could control his intravenous morphine. “But your chest looks good, no signs of
infection in the wound or complications with your chest tube. And your lungs sound clear. You’re
doing well.”

“Thank you,” murmured Jungkook, and Taehyung could feel the hidden meaning in the words.

The words on Tae’s wrist all but throbbed. Suddenly he was the one whose chest felt tight, who felt
like he’d been hit by that truck.

He stood abruptly, making Jungkook blink. “Jin, let’s retake some chest x-rays, make sure there’s
no sign of a recurring pneumothorax, but I’m not worried. And I want to recheck his lactate
levels.”
Jin nodded brusquely and got to work.

“We’ll get out of your way.” Yoongi reached down and patted Jungkook’s leg. “Feel better,
maknae, we’ll come back and see you tonight.”

“Okay,” murmured Jungkook, but his eyes were on Taehyung, who had pulled Jimin aside.

“Can I speak with you?” Taehyung nearly choked on the words.

“Yeah, of course,” said Jimin, blinking when Taehyung gripped his hand and all but hauled him
from the room. Jimin chuckled a little in bewilderment as his friend towed him down the hall and
pulled him into the empty doctor’s lounge, shutting the door sharply behind them. “Tae, what is
it?”

“Did you know?” breathed Taehyung.

Jimin looked horribly confused. “What? Know what?”

“Don’t play me, Jiminie, please—”

“Taehyung, I don’t understand—”

“Did you know Jungkook is my soulmate?” Taehyung shouted.

There was a horrible ringing silence.

The two best friends stared at one another, Tae gasping for air. But Jimin still looked confused.
“Jungkook…he’s…”

“My soulmate, Jimin, my soulmate.” Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate. “You remember that day
right? I mean, I know it was ten years ago but it’s still pretty fucking vivid in my head, being called
a freak by the person I’m fated to spend the rest of my life with in front of what felt like our entire
high school—”

“Taehyung, stop. I didn’t know!” Jimin cried out.

Taehyung stared again. “You’ve been dancing with him for how long?”

“About eight months, I think,” said Jimin, voice shaking.

“And Yoongi’s known him for how long?”

“All his life. They were neighbors growing up.”

Taehyung swallowed. The connections…

“How could you not know?” whispered Tae, voice threatening to break. “Did you not see the
mark?”

“He always wears long sleeves or tons of bracelets. Like you used to do, remember? I’ve never
seen it.” He swallowed. “I always kind of assumed his soulmate was dead. He never mentioned
anyone and he looked so sad sometimes—”

Tae snorted, rubbing away tears.

“I didn’t recognize him, Tae, I swear,” continued Jimin rapidly. “We only saw him for all of one
minute in that café ten years ago—”

“I know how long ago it was.”

Jimin walked closer, reaching out a hand. But he seemed to read that Tae didn’t want to be
touched. “So you saw the mark during his surgery.”

“No. No, the nurses did, but they didn’t mention what it said. Jiminie, he recognized me.”

“What?” Jimin gaped. “Your hair isn’t even the same color! It was ten years ago! It’s not like you
recognized him! God, why am I freaking out so bad?”

Tae couldn’t help but snort. There was his friend. He spoke truly, Taehyung’s hair was a unique
silvery grey now which had been the unfortunate result of a drunken night and an experiment with
bleach. He thought he rocked it. But it was a far cry from his old brunette locks.

“He doesn’t look like he did ten years ago,” muttered Taehyung, lost in thought.

“Yeah, he looks like he does steroids now or something.” Jimin rolled his eyes at Tae’s stare. “No,
he doesn’t actually do steroids. But he’s definitely jacked.”

Yeah, Tae had noticed. He shivered for some reason.

“And his hair is longer and he grew into his overbite,” added Tae absentmindedly.

Jimin gaped. “Wow.”

“No, wait—” Tae held up his hands but Jimin was already practically bouncing on his feet.

“You think he’s hot! Oh, Tae, he’s so cool, too, I mean we call him the golden maknae at work
because he’s annoyingly talented at basically everything he does. And he’s really dorky but cool at
the same time, like, he grew up tailing Yoongi hyung so what do you expect and he’s the sort of
guy who—”

“Publicly brands his soulmate a freak?”

Jimin winced. “Tae.”

“No, Jimin, I get it, okay? He’s your favorite dongsaeng, he thinks the sun shines out of Yoongi
hyung’s ass, he’s awesome. But that’s not the guy I know.”

“You know, I hate him too. For what he did to you.”

“You can’t.” Tae shrugged a little. “Jiminie, I know you. This guy is one of your best friends, he’s
your soulmate’s family. Realizing he’s my soulmate, realizing he publicly humiliated me, may be
enough for you to be angry with him but you can’t hate him. He’s too ingrained in your life.”

“So, what, you think you’re not important to me? That your feelings don’t matter? Taehyung,
you’re my best friend. Very best friend. We’ve been ride or die since we were in diapers.”

“I know that. I know,” said Tae softly. “But to me, Jeon Jungkook is not just my soulmate but the
asshole who embarrassed me and rejected me.”

“He didn’t reject you—”

“And to you, he’s your dongsaeng,” Tae continued, ignoring him. He sank his face in his hands,
suddenly feeling his exhaustion. “I can’t even hate the bastard, not after—”

He shut up fast, but Jimin had already kneeled in front of him. “After what?” He cocked his head,
thinking. “What did he say to you, Tae? When he told you he knew who you were?”

Tae stared down at the carpet.

“He must have apologized,” said Jimin hesitantly. “We were just kids, Tae, he was just messing
around.”

“Like that makes it any better. Yes, he apologized. He said he came after us immediately after.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, and he looked slightly awed. “Really?”

“But his parents died the same day,” continued Taehyung gruffly. He shut his eyes a moment,
trying to hold in the useless anger, the fear, the confusion.

“Poor Jungkook. Oh, Taehyung—”

“Does that make it okay?” Taehyung cut him off, suddenly rising to his feet again to pace the
room. “Does a senseless tragedy make it okay for him to have done that to me, make it okay for
him to have not chased me down to apologize, make it okay that I spent the last ten years alone and
hating him?”

“I don’t know.” Jimin got up too. He raked his fingers into his hair, fisted them there. His eyes
were just as watery as Taehyung’s. Finally he sighed, and stared at his friend with sad, exhausted
eyes.

“I guess that’s up to you to decide, Tae.”

Taehyung hugged Jimin before he left with Yoongi, unable to be mad at his friend any longer. It
was a completely fucked up series of connections that left him whirling. He hadn’t even recognized
Jungkook, how could he have expected Jimin to?

Granted, Taehyung saw him bloodied, bruised and broken, lying in a hospital bed. Jimin had been
talking and dancing and hanging out with Jimin for months.

But was that unfair?

He couldn’t blame Yoongi either, because no one, absolutely no one, besides Jimin, knew the story
of what happened that day, knew what words were written on Tae and Jungkook’s wrists. Yoongi
probably knew the S-sorry… was there, but not the connection to Taehyung.

For a couple of hours Tae was able to shut his mind off. He ran herd on his nurses and interns,
checked on his other patients, made a few final adjustments to the paper he authored that was set to
be published in a medical journal later that year.

But with the way Jin was eyeing him from the nurse’s station, he couldn’t ignore Jungkook any
longer. It was too obvious he was ducking the boy’s room and he couldn’t have Jin asking
questions.

Because Taehyung didn’t know what he would say.

When he entered Jungkook’s room, the blinds were drawn and the boy was sleeping. Taehyung
blew out a breath and was able to check the machines and his chart without waking him. Satisfied
at his progress, Taehyung slid the chart back into the tray at the end of the bed and turned to leave.

“Please don’t be mad at Jimin hyung,” whispered a voice.

Taehyung whirled around. Jungkook’s eyes were open, staring at him with a terrified expression.
“What?”

“Yoongi told me you guys are best friends, have been since you were kids. So it must have been
him who was with you that day in the café, I didn’t recognize him when we started dancing
together—”

“We all did a great job at not recognizing one another,” muttered Taehyung, feeling his exhaustion
like a weight on his shoulders. Could he really be angry at Jimin or even Jungkook for not
recognizing each other if he was guilty of the same mistake?

“No one’s ever seen my mark,” whispered Jungkook. Even now he kept his right wrist cradled in
his left hand, keeping the letters hidden. “Not for ten years, not since I fucked up.”

Taehyung blinked. He had been so prepared to be angry at Jungkook. But the other boy was
owning up to what he did, apologizing, acting like he regretted it. The reason Tae didn’t get an
apology that same day was because Jungkook’s parents died.

How was all that supposed to make Taehyung feel?

He was too tired to even begin riddling it out.

“I’m not mad at Jiminie,” Tae finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m confused and…
and overwhelmed and hurt all over again, but I’m not mad. I’m too tired to be mad.”

“I’m so sorry for what I did to you, for going along with the crowd like that.” Jungkook’s voice
strengthened even as Tae felt weak. “And I’ll never stop apologizing for it. But I’ve spent ten
years trying to find you again, being too stupid to realize a mutual friend could have helped if I had
only shown my mark as proudly as it deserves to be shown. But it hurt me to remember what I did
to you so I hid it.”

“There’s no such thing as fate, Jungkook—” protested Taehyung, knowing where this was headed.

“I’m not sorry it took a truck wiping me out and you fixing me in order for me to find you again.
I’ve found you. And I’m not going to let you walk away.”

Taehyung stiffened immediately, could practically feel his body harden. “I’m my own person,
Jungkook. Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t grant you automatic forgiveness. You broke my
heart that day, practically stomped on it. I like being on my own, I’m happy and I’m successful,
I’m great at what I do, I work my ass off. I don’t need you.”

Jungkook winced but his expression was full of determination. “You won’t have to do anything.
I’m going to earn your forgiveness. Then I’m going to court you.”

“Court me?” Taehyung snorted, even as butterflies danced in his stomach. Nobody courted anyone
anymore. Soulmates met and that was that. The casual dating that people indulged in before
finding their mates was never serious enough to warrant it. “Yeah, right.”

Taehyung watched the smirk grow across Jungkook’s lips, watched his eyes narrow until they were
half-lidded and lazy and wicked with it.
“You’ll see, Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung had the sudden thought that he was in a hell of a lot of trouble.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

hope everyone is happy & healthy ! thanks so much for all the love <3 bac atcha guys

i start a new job this week soo updates will be more sparse :( but honestly taekook is a
lotta fun to write about and i find it really relaxing so no worries, i'm not going
anywhere !

Taehyung was practically exiled from the hospital after that conversation with Jungkook.

He’d taken one step out of the room and stopped, blinking dazedly, then Jin hyung was pulling him
aside and ordering him to take the rest of the day off. He protested, vehemently. Something within
him rebelled at the idea of leaving Jungkook alone. He had to remind himself that his staff and
colleagues were just as good at their jobs as he was.

Still, unease churned in his gut as Jin practically marched him away from the surgical wing.
He fetched his bag from his locker, full of dirty scrubs and junk food wrappers, and withdrew his
headphones to plug them into his phone and blast his favorite lo-fi playlist as loud as he could
tolerate. It kept his mind blessedly free of thought, so much so that he nearly fell asleep sitting on
the bench waiting for the bus despite the volume. He managed to stumble home, steps on autopilot,
letting himself into the building in Gangnam with an attempted wave for the doorman before
teetering into the elevator. He took it up to the penthouse where it took four tries to get his key in
the door.

Once inside, he had enough presence of mind to dump his dirty scrubs in the washer and set it to
running before stripping down and stepping into a blisteringly hot shower. Some tears leaked from
his eyes as he stared at the water swirling down the drain. He put it down to exhaustion, too
exhausted to analyze the chaos of emotions storming him.

Managing a haphazard towel dry that left his skin warm but still damp, Taehyung stumbled into his
enormous bedroom and all but crawled up the four steps leading to his bed, where he collapsed
fully naked into the blue silk sheets, the expensive mattress hugging his beleaguered body like a
dream.

He was asleep in moments.

Taehyung drifted awake lazily, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep, knowing that some great
emotional upheaval awaited his full attention but fuzzy on the details at that moment. He only
knew he was in for more hurt, more painful memories, more dredging up the past.

He rolled over, his lower back cracking, and stretched his arms and legs as far as he could. His
joints popped and relaxed, and his muscles felt pleasantly tight. He took the time for a soak in his
bathtub, needing the pampering now more than ever as thoughts of Jungkook kept interrupting his
morning routine.
Taehyung always loved being on his own. He liked having his own space, the privacy, the lack of
someone else monitoring his comings and goings. There was no one to scold him if he wanted to
spend five straight days in the hospital, except for Jin hyung, no one to judge him for eating instant
noodles in just his boxers in front of the big screen television watching his favorite dramas. He had
been alone for a long time, and enjoyed it.

So why did his penthouse suddenly feel so horribly lonely?

His footsteps echoed as he got dressed in the walk-in closet, as he packed clean sets of navy blue
scrubs, as he stuffed pieces of fruit and candy bars in his bag. Sad for no reason he could name, he
left music playing on the hidden speakers overhead when he left for the hospital, so that there
would be sound to greet him when he returned home.

Morning rounds dragged on. Normally Taehyung took great pleasure in visiting with each of his
patients, updating his staff on their conditions and treatments, drawing them out so often that it was
almost habit for Jin to tap his watch and have to shove him towards the OR for his scheduled
surgeries.

But today, rounds seemed to last forever. Each question had him near hissing with impatience, and
though Taehyung wasn’t the most patient mentor to deal with originally, his staff seemed to realize
he was in quite the mood that day and steered clear.

Taehyung hated himself for the relief that overwhelmed him when the group entered Jungkook’s
room. As if he had been hurting but returning to the boy’s company eased it.

He is your patient, Tae lectured himself furiously. Patient. Not soulmate, not here.

The vicious pep talk didn’t really work. He still felt anxious as he led his colleagues towards
Jungkook’s room. He was a doctor, for crying out loud, he was the fucking Chief of Surgery at a
major inner-city hospital. He would not be afraid to talk to his own patient.

Then he saw Jungkook sitting up in his bed, beads of sweat on his forehead as he lifted, flexed and
extended each of his arms. The movements were achingly slow, and Jungkook had his lower lip
caught between his teeth in concentration, nose scrunched up so he looked more like an angry
bunny than ever before.

“Are you insane?” demanding Taehyung as he strode to his side, startling the boy into weakly
dropping his arms. “You’re on bed rest for a reason, doing that could pull my stitches out.”

Jungkook pouted, and Tae tried to convince himself that it was not adorable.

He failed. Miserably.

The injured boy eased back to rest against the bed again, face sheepish now as Tae removed his
bandages to check the sutures, movements brisk and practiced but overwhelmingly gentle.
Grumbling to himself, Tae did his exam then replaced the bandages, satisfied.

“You’re recovering from majorly invasive surgery,” lectured Taehyung. “You’re in no shape to be
exercising.”

Jungkook cleared his throat. “If I speak, are you going to keep yelling at me?”

Tae considered. “Maybe.”

He seemed to weigh the risk, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sitting around this much, it’s
killing me. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

Moving around was obviously a part of Jungkook’s lifestyle, Taehyung wasn’t an idiot. He knew
how Jimin lived, knew the fitness and endurance required to be a full-time professional dancer. He
could also recall the terror that had struck the boy the previous night when faced with a hospital
stay. The pain must be a good distraction.

Still.

“You won’t be on bed rest forever, just another day or so,” relented Taehyung, Jungkook hanging
on his every word. “It’s actually good for your body to be moving around, it helps keep your
system from becoming stagnant. But it has to be at the pace we set or you’ll risk hurting yourself
again, and the last thing either of us wants is for you to have to go back to the OR. So for now, you
have to take it easy. Clear?”

Jungkook nodded as vigorously as his bruises let him. “Crystal. Won’t happen again.”

Taehyung huffed out a breath, straightening his shoulders as he turned to his colleagues.

“Jeon Jungkook,” began Taehyung without ceremony, facing his coworkers to avoid the heavy
stare of the man in the bed. “Male, twenty six years old, recovering from major invasive thoracic
surgery following a motorcycle accident in which he suffered a traumatic pneumothorax due to two
fractured ribs and a moderate hemothorax plus a mild concussion as well as significant contusions
and abrasions over most of his body. We placed a chest tube to prevent a recurrent pneumothorax
and placed nineteen stitches to close the large laceration on his chest. Respiration normalized with
no signs of hypoxemia. He has since remained stable with no episodes of hypotension, tachycardia
or shock, and the tube insertion sight looks good with no signs of swelling, irritation or redness.
He’ll remain here for constant monitoring for at least another three days at which time the chest
tube can be removed and he can be sent home.”

“Would you expect the hypotension to recur?” asked a first-year surgical intern.

“What do you think caused his hypotension?” countered Taehyung quietly, having a flashback to
all the horrendous times in medical school that his professors replied to a question with a question.
But he always learned better that way. The Socratic method never failed.

The intern’s brow wrinkled. “Um…”

Tae sighed a little, patience a bit thin after the past couple of days. “What is hypotension?”

“Low blood pressure.”

“Correct. Now what key component of Mr. Jeon’s injury would result in low blood pressure?”

The intern shifted his weight, stared at the floor.

“Anyone?”

“He was bleeding into his chest, right?” a nurse tentatively said.

“There we go. Blood loss from a ruptured or damaged blood vessel results in less blood circulating
through the rest of the body and consequently, the heart, causing overall low blood pressure. This
also caused the heart to beat faster to compensate for the decreased blood volume, explaining
Jungkook’s tachycardia. So, when we opened him up and stopped the bleed, blood volume was
restored and the hypotension resolved. Any other questions?”

Jin watched Taehyung curiously. “Jungkook?”

Do not blush, do not blush, do not blush.

But Tae felt the traitorous heat creep along his cheekbones as he cleared his throat and said, “Mr.
Jeon.”

“I gave him permission to use my name,” said Jungkook quietly. His eyes were wide with awe as
he stared at Taehyung.

“It’s unconventional,” mumbled a nurse, perhaps trying to explain to Jungkook why the crowd of
people were staring at the usually aloof Dr. Kim Taehyung with blatant surprise.

“It’s okay,” said Jungkook. “He’s my soulmate.”

The room fell completely, drastically silent. A nurse dropped a clipboard with a clatter that startled
everyone like a gunshot.

The declaration was calm, Jungkook’s voice cool and somehow proud, as if he was bragging.

Taehyung put a hand over his face and sighed. He focused on the embarrassment to avoid facing
the pleasure that swarmed him at being so publicly claimed.

At being someone his soulmate was proud of.

A dramatic gasp from beside him had Tae suddenly flinching, moments before arms grabbed him
in a suffocating hug. “You found your soulmate!” crowed Jin, and Tae was terrified to see tears
misting his eyes as his hyung drew back. “You finally found him, Taehyung, oh my god.”

“We’ve met before,” muttered Taehyung, who couldn’t help glaring at Jungkook even as the boy
winced at the reminder. “Ten years ago.”

“What?” Jin looked lost, and he wasn’t the only one. The entire crowd in that room were wide-
eyed and staring. Parting ways with a soulmate after meeting them was, frankly, unheard of. Even
serial killers had successful stories of meeting their soulmate and staying together forever.

Not that Taehyung was putting his soulmate interaction on that level, but, well. He thought terrible
things when he was bitter and hurting.

He could practically feel the burning questions in everyone’s heads, could feel the eyes darting to
the words on his right wrist hidden by the strap of his watch, but it was none of their business, so
he barked, “That concludes rounds for the morning.”

No one moved, and Taehyung cast a beady eye at the crowd. All it took was for him to narrow his
eyes to have them startling into movement, and Tae smirked, a little smug, as the room emptied.

Or almost emptied, since Taehyung heard a sniffle from beside him.

“But…ten years…” Poor Jin simply looked like he couldn’t grasp the concept.

“Ten years ago I messed up, and I hurt Tae, badly. I lost track of him before I could make it right.
Now I’ve been given another chance,” said Jungkook calmly from the bed.

Jin looked like he was about to swoon.

“Will you cut that out?” demanded Taehyung.

He found he was struggling to hang on to his anger and that just wasn’t right.

Jungkook wasn’t that charming. Tae wouldn’t cave so easily.

Then Jungkook had the nerve to wink at him. A fucking wink. Tae didn’t know what was worse,
that wink or the smirk he had given in response to the challenge of courting him.

Jin stood with his head cocked, hands on his hips as he stared at the boy in the bed. “You and me,
we’ll talk later,” he said to the patient, and Jungkook only nodded as if he expected that.

“The only discussion you or anyone will be having with my patient will revolve around his
treatments and recovery plan, am I understood?” said Taehyung through his teeth.

Jin hyung merely saluted.

Feeling like that was as good a parting line as any, Taehyung strode out first, only for a voice to
call out from behind him, “See you later for my sponge bath, soulmate!”

Taehyung ducked his head as laughter chased him down the hallway.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

fun fact, i have no idea how long this fic will be. how fun.

another fun fact, my new job is kicking my ass but I LOVE IT SO MUCH OMG i've
been a student for a hella long time but now it's like i'm an adult like WHOA. LIFE.
WHO KNEW.

updates will continue to be random courtesy of my ridiculous hours but they'll always
come ! writing about these guys is one of my fav ways to relax so never fear, i won't
ditch my WIPs

and OMG ANOTHER FUN FACT - LN&CS hit 1k kudos and i think i DIED. no lie.
means a hella lot, thank you all <3

i hope everyone's happy & healthy ! k yeah soo i'll shutup now - enjoy !! (i hope!)

Taehyung spent a few days ignoring Jungkook.

It wasn’t easy. The entire hospital knew the story now, that the Chief of Surgery’s soulmate was in
a recovery suite in his own surgical wing and Taehyung was avoiding him like the plague.

He didn’t shirk his duty, far from it. He assigned only the best and most diligent nurses and
surgeons to monitor Jungkook’s progress, grilled them for hours every day on treatment protocols
and demanded updates so often that nurses began ducking into empty rooms as he walked the
wing.

The end of a long, exhausting Friday saw Taehyung down in the emergency room again,
consulting with the cardiologist on call regarding an eighty-eight year old widow who presented
for an episode of collapse and difficulty breathing.

“It’s a textbook case of congestive heart failure,” said Dr. Pan, who barely came up to Tae’s
breastbone. She was a tiny Vietnamese woman a decade older than Taehyung who spoke with a
thick accent despite having lived in Seoul since the days of her residency. She wore thick black-
framed glasses and always pulled her hair back into a tighter-than-tight bun at the base of her neck
that made Taehyung wonder if it gave her a perpetual headache.

“And you want to do a bypass?” guessed Taehyung.

She hummed, both of them peering at the patient’s chart. “She needs at least a triple, if not a
quadruple. Her echocardiogram is a complete mess.”

“She isn’t a candidate.” Tae met her stare evenly. “I’ve been treating Ms. Sun for two years, I’ve
scoped and removed bony fragments from both of her knees and her left hip. She has the most
advanced case of arthritis I’ve ever seen, plus she’s been a diabetic for thirty years. I think you’re
over-reaching.”

Pan pursed her lips stubbornly. “Next time she comes in, it’ll be for a heart attack instead of a
fainting spell.”

“She lives in a round-the-clock nursing care facility with family visiting her every day. She’s still
healthy enough for her daily walks and can still care for her dog. She lives a wonderful life. I’m
worried if you attempt a quadruple bypass that she won’t survive it.”

Tapping a pen to her lips, Pan stared at him. “I admit the risk is high. But she needs the operation.”

But at what cost?

Taehyung fought hard to conceal his thoughts as Pan made the pitch to Ms. Sun and her family
members. She was professional, empathetic, and was sure to outline the high risk associated with
the procedure. She explicitly stated the chance of cardiac arrest and death. Pan never sugar-coated
things.

It still left a bad taste in his mouth.

Part of a doctor’s job, in Taehyung’s way of thinking, was knowing when not to treat.

When Ms. Sun agreed to have the procedure and was admitted, and her surgery scheduled for the
following Monday, Pan asked Taehyung to scrub in and assist. For the first time as Chief of
Surgery, he requested time to consider it. Pan stared after him in surprise as he walked away.

Out of habit he peeked in on a sleeping Jungkook through the blinds of his window, as he made
sure to do at least half a dozen times per day. He never thought about why. All he knew was that
he couldn’t rest, couldn’t sleep, without checking on Jungkook before he left the hospital.

Exhaustion hung around him like a constant weight around his neck. The bags under his eyes had
reached a stunning new shade of purple, and lines seemed permanently etched at the corner of his
eyes. His shoulders drooped and his bag nearly dragged along the ground as he trudged out of his
elevator towards his front door.

Jimin sat there on the floor, leaning against the wall. He rolled his head back to look at Taehyung,
and his gaze was soft and full of empathy. Brandishing four full bottles of soju, he said, “I know
you’re off tomorrow. We’re going to get drunk.”

Tae sighed. Then he unlocked the front door and held it open for his best friend. “I’m ordering
takeout. I have no food.”

“When do you ever?”

Jimin settled onto the couch, made himself at home as he had countless nights before, while
Taehyung quickly showered and changed into sweats and an overlarge hoodie. When he emerged,
Jimin was unpacking food and Tae’s favorite Studio Ghibli movie was playing on his obnoxiously
large television.

Tae could have shot the evening down. He had been planning to go to the hospital the next day
anyway, like he always did on his days off.

He had zero intentions of drinking the night away.

Two hours and three empty bottles of soju later, Tae lay sprawled on the couch, head hanging
upside down off the cushions to stare at his friend who seemed to be attempting to perform some of
his dance choreo while horizontal on the carpet.
“So you want to talk about it?” blurted Jimin suddenly, once he finished trying to reenact the
Exorcist.

Tae didn’t need clarification. “Nope.”

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad, Jiminie, I’m…” Taehyung scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’ve been over this.”

“I know. But Yoongi and I have been to visit Jungkook every day, usually twice a day. And we
haven’t seen you around.”

Taehyung sat up, arms crossing over his chest in a move that he told himself wasn’t defensive. “I
haven’t been shirking my duties, Jiminie.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. God, Taehyung, Jungkook would have died without you. I just
thought that maybe you were m-mad at me.”

Tae’s head whipped around to stare at his friend. He hadn’t heard him stutter since they were kids,
when Jimin used to be bullied over his puffy cheeks and baby fat.

“Jiminie—”

“I didn’t recognize Jungkook,” said Jimin, talking fast. “I met him once or twice in the last few
years since he’s close with Yoongi hyung. Then he got hired at my company and we started
dancing t-together and we became friends but I never recognized him, I never saw his tattoo, I
never saw it, I swear—”

“Jimin, stop.” It was nearly a shout, and served to cut off the stream of words. Tae rocked up to his
feet and paced in circles behind the couch, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”

He just wanted a night off. He didn’t want to think about the boy that fate had tied him to.

Was that too much to ask?

“P-please don’t be mad at me.”

Tae didn’t have to look over at Jimin to know he was crying. But it was Taehyung who deserved to
be upset, Taehyung whose world had been rocked, whose career had been affected, whose life had
turned completely upside down. He didn’t want to comfort his best friend right now.

But was that selfish?

He didn’t know how to feel.

The doorbell rang. Neither of them moved, until it went off again and Tae swore, storming to the
door and throwing it open. He rolled his eyes, threw his arms up and turned away. “Perfect.”

Yoongi strolled in, carelessly cool in all-black jeans and t-shirt, red headphones around his neck
and a white backpack on his shoulders.

“You forgot the hyung,” he said drily. “How come you guys haven’t been answering your
phones?”

“Jimin was occupied trying to do a handstand. I was occupied with laughing at him.”
“I see.” Yoongi’s laughing eyes shot to his soulmate and he immediately frowned. “Babe, why are
you crying?”

“Tae is mad at me.” Jimin wiped his face with his sweater, trying to calm down.

“I am not mad,” barked Taehyung in a voice that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but anger. “I
just don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Babe.” Yoongi sat beside Jimin and curled a warm hand around the nape of his neck, shook him
gently, affectionately. “What did we talk about this week?” he asked, slightly teasing. “None of
you recognized one another and I never knew the story. No one is to blame for anything involving
him and Jungkook.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” grumbled Tae. No one heard him.

Jimin pouted. “Be on my side.”

“I am on your side.” Yoongi kissed him then settled at his side, tugging an appeased Jimin against
him. “How are you, Tae?”

“Drunk and tired of answering that question,” snarled Tae before padding to the kitchen and
pouring himself a glass of water. The dazed and drunk feeling had faded, leaving a headache in its
wake that tripled his exhaustion.

“If you want to talk about Jungkook—”

“I don’t want to talk about Jungkook!” exploded Taehyung, hurling the cup against the wall. Glass
exploded, shards cascading to the hardwood.

He whirled on his friends, who flinched and gaped at the raw fury in his eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about him! Why the fuck would I want to talk about the guy who made my
childhood a living hell?” Taehyung kicked the armchair, ignoring the flare of pain in his toes,
sending it screeching across the floor. “The man responsible for branding me a freak for the world
to mock? The man responsible for me giving up my art? ”

The silence that fell in the wake of Taehyung’s outburst felt charged, like summer air after a brief
but violent thunderstorm. His muscles shook with exertion. Exhaustion hit him as if he had
slammed face first into a brick wall at a sprint, every inch of his body trembling.

“You…you t-told me you fell in love with m-medicine,” whispered Jimin, shaking almost as hard
as Tae.

Tears filled Taehyung’s eyes and cascaded over his cheeks, a veritable testament to his pain. “I
love medicine. Because it saved me when I couldn’t be an artist.”

Tae turned and headed for his bedroom, stumbling a little. Jimin called after him, his name, maybe,
but Taehyung didn’t turn back. He went into his room and shut the door quietly behind him.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, his friends were gone. But there was a stack of blueberry
pancakes courted by scrambled eggs and bacon sitting on one of his pretty plates on the warming
tray beside his stovetop. A tray sat next to it with a glass of milk and a bowl of mixed fruit. Tae
stared at it, then looked into his pantry and fridge. It was fully stocked, and the kitchen itself as
well as the living room were spotless.

A note on the fridge said, We love you, Taehyung. We’re sorry for everything. If you want to talk,
please call? <3

Tae sighed. But he ate the breakfast before heading to the hospital.

Ms. Sun passed away during her quadruple bypass that Monday morning.

Tae had ended up scrubbing in. He knew himself, he knew he couldn’t have handled it if he sat on
the sidelines when he potentially could have helped.

But his hands made no difference.

The vessels in her chest were too weak, too strained by the years of worsening congestive heart
failure. Pulmonary edema threatened to collapse her lungs. The clots in her arteries couldn’t be
removed in time to successfully resuscitate her.

Dr. Pan refused to notify the family.

She was infamous in the hospital for refusing to deliver sad tidings, her brilliance in the operating
room enough to excuse the policy. Other surgeons were involved in the operation but Taehyung
volunteered.

Ms. Sun had been his patient. His.

He stepped into the waiting room and watched the family unnoticed for a minute. He saw Ms.
Sun’s two daughters, their husbands and children. One of the youngest kids clutched a polaroid
picture of a fluffy little white dog that Tae knew was named Heen.

They spotted him, and stood up with hopeful expressions. Taehyung watched the smiles slowly
fade as he approached, as he reached out to grip the eldest daughter’s hand in both of his.

“I’m so sorry…”

Taehyung, eyes dry and burning, headed for the surgical wing out of habit, hands shoved in the
pocket of his scrubs.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” said Tae bluntly.

Then he looked up, and stared at Jungkook.

The boy stood in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely not hospital issue, meaning that
Yoongi and Jimin must have brought him supplies from home. Even with skin pale from lack of
sleep and sun, shaky limbs and bruises dotting his bare face and arms, he looked handsome, Tae
could admit.

For a moment Taehyung simply stared. Then he shot to where Jungkook stood leaning against the
wall, one hand braced on his IV pole.
“Who said you could get out of bed?” asked Taehyung, but to his dismay, his tone was more
scolding than authoritative. He sounded like a worried boyfriend.

Jungkook pulled his shirt up, distracting Tae with the flash of muscles, and he blinked before
realizing the chest tube was nowhere to be seen.

Tae’s eyes narrowed.

“Dr. Lir took a look at my latest scans and bloodwork, and pulled it an hour ago. He cleared me for
three walks per day as long as they’re under twenty minutes.”

Taehyung simply closed his eyes.

“Dr. Kim?” continued Jungkook hesitantly.

Tae’s eyes shot open and Jungkook nearly recoiled at the sheer violence of the frustration in his
eyes. “Call me Taehyung, I’m not that much of an asshole to insist you refer to me as doctor when
you told me I could use your name.”

“Taehyung,” said Jungkook softly, and Tae instantly felt calmer. “Are you okay?”

The answer was no. For so many reasons.

Taehyung just lost one of his favorite patients. And he was struggling not to blame Dr. Pan. And
Dr. Lir was a solid colleague, one of the best surgeons in the hospital, with thirty years of
experience under his belt. They often stepped in on each other’s cases when emergencies or
consults called them away. It was a common practice, and the reason that Taehyung considered
medicine a team sport.

Lir often made changes to Taehyung’s patient protocols, and Tae did the same for him.
So why the hell was Taehyung so angry just then?

Both his anger and grief were visible, he could tell from the way Jungkook watched him with such
clear concern. But he battled it back. He was at work, damn it, he couldn’t run around in a
rampage.

So Taehyung swallowed it back, like he always did. He closed his eyes for a long moment, and
when he opened them, he was calmer.

“Want company on your walk?”

“Really?”

“I’m too tired to be mad at you right now for something that happened ten years ago.” Taehyung
sighed and looked a worried Jungkook in the eye. “So for now can we just…walk?”

“Yeah.” His voice was low, and soft, and kind. “Yeah, of course.”

“No promises on not getting mad at you in the future,” added Tae in a mutter.

“Sounds good to me.”

Sighing, Taehyung shifted to stand beside him, and offered his arm. Jungkook moved slowly, as if
the offer would be rescinded, but Tae waited patiently until Jungkook rested his hand in the crook
of his elbow, holding his IV pole with the other hand.
Heat blossomed where Jungkook’s hand rested on Tae’s skin, bared by the short sleeves of his
scrubs. Taehyung fought not to shiver as they began slowly shuffling down the hall.

“Want to talk about it?” offered Jungkook.

“No. No, I really don’t.” Tae wouldn’t even know where to start.

The silence that fell was stilted and tense. Taehyung was scared Jungkook would begin demanding
explanations, wanting a reason why Tae had all but ignored him for ten days.

So the silence was awkward.

For all of two seconds.

“Want a distraction?”

“Please,” said Tae with relief, grasping at straws.

Jungkook hummed, considering. “Well, soulmate, I haven’t asked you the real important questions.
The ones that truly reveal whether this will work.”

Tae had several thoughts. Soulmate? And what questions? He instantly tensed, thinking of high
school, thinking of the café.

“Cats or dogs?”

Tae blinked. “What?”

“Cats or dogs?” Jungkook glanced over, a mischievous expression on his pretty face. “Come on,
everyone has a preference.”

“Dogs.” Rolling his eyes, Tae waited for the other boy’s approximation of a cheer to die down.

“Excellent, same here. Okay, favorite vacation spot. Mountains or beach?”

Warming up, Tae considered as they reached the end of the hallway and turned around.
“Mountains. I rent this cabin on a remote lake sometimes. I like the solitude, the peace.”

“What do you do there?”

“Read. Walk. Listen to music.” And grieve those I failed to save.

“Sounds nice,” admitted Jungkook, moving slower now. His steps faltered a bit and he leaned
more heavily on Taehyung, unwillingly, as if he refused to show weakness in front of him. Tae
bore his weight with no issue. “I always do the beach, with friends, you know? But what you
describe sounds nice.”

“It is if you don’t mind the quiet,” said Tae wryly. Jin and Namjoon had once accompanied
Taehyung on a quick four-day getaway. Two days in, Jin admitted that though he loved Taehyung
like a younger brother, they would never go into the wilderness again.

“What about favorite takeout?”

“Korean barbecue. You?”

“Lamb skewers. I’ve been known to overstay my welcome at barbecue places, though. Okay,
here’s another one. If you couldn’t be a doctor what would you be?”

Taehyung all but felt his face turn to stone, felt it fall into the serious, grim-faced expression he
wore that was often mistook for arrogance or derision but was simply a mask to avoid others
seeing the hurt. He had fallen in love with medicine, with surgery, but it hadn’t been his first love.

That would always be art.

He could still feel the way charcoals glided across a blank page in his sketchbook, the way
watercolors blended together on a canvas, the hiss of spray paint when he depressed the trigger. He
couldn’t even sketch anymore without pain stealing his breath.

“Did I say something wrong?” asked Jungkook hesitantly. The expression Taehyung wore made
his own chest hurt, for some reason.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” murmured Tae. With monstrous effort, he shook off the ghosts of the
past, too tired to be mad. “I’m a doctor. I couldn’t consider being anything else. You?”

“I’d still be a dancer, so perhaps that was a silly question. I guess we both found our callings.”

“Guess we did.”

Knowing he had upset Taehyung, but not able to figure out why, Jungkook tried to find a lighter
topic. “What about your favorite superhero?”

“Are we talking DC or Marvel?”

They paused outside Jungkook’s room as the boy turned to Tae with eyes wide in dramatic
enthusiasm. “You know the difference?”

“I’m not sure whether to be offended at the blatant surprise in your tone.”

“No, no,” Jungkook rushed to defend himself, giggling a little. Tae’s heart ached when he wrinkled
his nose again. “I just thought I was the only nerd big enough to care about the difference.”

“Hello?” Tae tapped the inscription on his scrubs. “I can’t believe the doctor title didn’t give away
the fact that I’m a huge dork. I went through ten years of school post high school.”

“Ten!?”

“I mean, I did it in eight, but yeah. Two years of college, four years of med school, four year
surgical residency.”

“Wow.” Jungkook looked awed again. “Okay, so then you must have a favorite superhero.”

“Wonder Woman.”

“What?” He clutched his chest. “Oh god. I don’t think this relationship can be saved. This is the
end, right here. You’re a surgeon, put the shattered pieces of my heart back together.”

Amused despite himself, Tae grinned a little. “You have something against women kicking ass?”

“You’re trying to trap me and I don’t appreciate it. I think she kicks supreme ass, actually. And
that movie was definitely one of the best superhero movies overall.”

“But?” Taehyung helped him into bed and refastened the ECG leads on his chest.
“Iron Man kicks so much more ass,” whined Jungkook, pouting a little.

Taehyung was surprised into a laugh, even as he unwound his stethoscope. “Seriously?”

“I dare you to disagree. Come on, Stark singlehandedly built his first suit. He’s a normal dude
except for the whole tech empire thing, he did everything from scratch, he wasn’t handed godlike
powers or born particularly special. He made himself special.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

Jungkook crossed his arms and looked away, grumbling. “Mock me all you want, I know I’m
right.”

“Sure you are, bun.”

The nickname slid so casually from his lips that Taehyung didn’t even notice, attention focused on
the ECG screen. He didn’t see Jungkook’s little grin, the way he peered at Tae with something like
hope, the way he shivered a bit and fisted a hand against his suddenly racing heart.

“Are you feeling all right?” Tae watched the heart rate monitor ramp up, eyes narrowed. “Are you
in pain?”

“No,” choked Jungkook, blushing now with embarrassment. “No, I’m fine.”

Still concerned, Taehyung leaned over him and slid his stethoscope in his ears, pressing the end to
Jungkook’s chest. He noticed the boy shiver and attributed it to pain.

“Breathe in for me,” requested Taehyung in a low voice. Jungkook complied, hopeless to his
wishes. “Good. That’s good. Exhale now.”

Cheeks on fire now, Jungkook fought not to wriggle at the praise.

Tae adjusted the scope minutely. “One more time.” Another adjustment. “And again for me.”
Content, Tae leaned away again. “Your vitals are stable. I have no concerns right now, you’re
healing well. You could have another dose of morphine to help you rest and alleviate your
discomfort, if you wish.”

Jungkook’s chest felt like he’d been stampeded by a herd of horses. Just the brief walk had his
muscles shaking like jelly and his body sluiced with sweat. His lungs felt constricted, like he was
unable to inhale to the fullest extent.

Though that could have been due to the embarrassment.

But Taehyung could read the pain in his eyes, in his body language. So easily. How could he know
this boy so well, after just a few days of stilted interactions? Was it a soulmate thing?

Or was it just a Jungkook and Taehyung thing?

“There’s no shame in showing pain,” said Taehyung gently, a hand on the morphine drip.

But Jungkook still averted his eyes as he nodded.

Taehyung administered the pain meds then busied himself with the chart, though a nurse could
have easily updated his paperwork.

“I called you a freak,” murmured Jungkook, eyelids slipping half-closed as the analgesia hit his
system.

Taehyung froze, pen resting on the file.

“I was a stupid kid. I wanted my teammates to like me. Everyone was calling you a freak and I felt
bad and I thought you were pretty but then the coffee burned me and I just…I was an idiot. I can
never make it up to you but I’ll spend forever trying to.”

“Stop.” Taehyung felt lightheaded, his breath coming faster. “Stop it, please.”

But Jungkook had fallen asleep.

Taehyung bowed his head, struggled not to cry. The next thing he knew there was a warm hand on
his back, gently guiding him until his forehead rested against a broad shoulder.

“It’s okay, Taehyungie,” soothed Jin. He put a hand on the nape of his friend’s neck and held him
there when Tae made to pull back. “I pulled the blinds, no one can see. Just breathe. You’re okay.”

“It hurts,” admitted Tae shakily, rubbing his breastbone. “It hurt ten years ago and it hurts now.
Worse.”

“I don’t know what happened between you ten years ago but—” Jin cut himself off as Tae pulled
back and began tugging at the strap of his watch. “Tae, you don’t have to—”

Taehyung bared his wrist and Jin saw the words. Back off, freak.

“Oh, Taehyungie—”

“It’s not even that nasty an insult, really,” said Tae, detached. He traced fingers over the cursive
letters and watched Jungkook’s sleeping face. “I’ve heard worse from drunks stumbling into my
ER in the middle of the night. But at sixteen even stupid words sting. And to have my soulmate say
them, to grow up reading them and fearing the moment I would hear my soulmate say them…it
was hard. And to now know that he wished to apologize, that the reason he couldn’t was because
his parents died…I’m struggling to hold on to my anger, Jin hyung.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” said Jin, voice gentle. “You made sure of that, Tae. You saved him.
You can feel however angry you want, and take the time to sort it out.”

But that was the problem, Tae thought, as Jin dragged him out to get some lunch.

He was terrified because he couldn’t find his anger.

 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

hi hi !! another day, another chapter !

His phone went off at one in the morning. Taehyung’s feet hit the floor before his mind engaged,
swiping up his cell.

“Dr. Kim.”

“Dr. Kim, it’s Soomi from the hospital. Your patient, Mr. Jeon, collapsed tonight—”

“Collapsed?” he barked. “What was he doing out of bed?” Tae immediately pulled scrubs on,
balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder.

“It looks like he got up in the middle of the night and attempted to walk up the stairs, we found him
collapsed in the hallway. He had been there a while we think—”

“How did he slip by the night staff?” snarled Taehyung. “Is he stable?”

“Yes, sir.” The poor woman’s voice shook. “But he’s hypotensive and Dr. Pan wants your
assistance, he isn’t responding to a fluid bolus.”

“Reduce his fluids back down to maintenance immediately, he’s at risk of developing pulmonary
edema from the systemic hypertension,” snapped Taehyung, sprinting out of his apartment and
slamming the door behind him. “I noted it in his chart, damn it. Start a dobutamine CRI, I’m on my
way in.”

Cursing everyone and everything, Tae skipped the wait for a bus and sprinted twenty blocks to the
hospital.

When he swept into Jungkook’s room, the boy lay prostrate in bed. He was conscious, eyes wide,
as he stared up at the crowd of nurses around his bed. His breathing was raspy and shallow, and the
ECG machine and heart rate monitors were going crazy.

“Clear the room,” ordered Tae immediately, reading the panic in his patient’s eyes at the proximity
of half a dozen strangers. “I want Soomi and Pan here, that’s it.”

“Doctor—”

“Now!” he shouted.

The room cleared.

Soomi remained steady, taking Jungkook’s blood pressure. His systolic was low, lower than even
his hypotensive crisis during surgery. Pan was in the process of administering the dobutamine,
hanging the bag next to his fluids and hooking it up to his IV line.
Taehyung ignored their stares as he sat beside Jungkook, instinctively bending down to dominate
his patient’s vision, hands on his shoulders.

“Jungkook,” he called, trying to cut through the panic. “Jungkook, eyes on me.”

“H-hurts. St…strangers h-here.”

“The strangers are gone, it’s just me, it’s me. Taehyung, remember? Your heart rate is high and its
driving your blood pressure too low, I need you to relax, breathe and let your medications work.”

Jungkook grabbed his hand. Taehyung let him.

“Chest hurts,” he croaked, sweat dotting his forehead.

“I know, but you need to breathe anyway. Inhale.” Tae counted it out, watched Jungkook shake and
struggle. “Exhale. Again, inhale. And. Exhale. Good job, Jungkook, keep it up.”

Too slowly for Taehyung’s liking, the medication hit Jungkook’s bloodstream and bumped his
pressures back to normal. Color eked into his pale cheeks, and his breathing slowed to a steadier
rhythm.

Both Jungkook and Taehyung sagged, muscles releasing their tension.

“You scared us, Mr. Jeon.” Soomi blew out a breath before patting his shoulder. It was a stretch to
reach, as Taehyung refused to move from his perch on the bed. “No more running up the stairs.”

Jungkook wriggled a little. “I felt stronger.”

“Well, you’re not,” said Pan bluntly. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring
at the ECG machine as if it had personally offended her. “You suffered a severe chest injury, Mr.
Jeon. Your heart and lungs need time to recover before you work up to your normal fitness regime.
Do something like that again and you risk going into heart failure.”

“Heart f-failure?” Jungkook’s gaze swiveled to Tae.

“It means that your heart suffered enormous strain, and pushing too far too fast could result in
permanent damage, rather than temporary—”

“You could have a heart attack and die,” said Pan bluntly.

For a moment the room was still. Then Jungkook flinched so violently that his knee knocked
painfully against Tae’s hip, his hands flying up to cover his face as though Pan had struck him a
blow. His heart rate monitor blared an alarm.

Taehyung dove forward, grabbed Jungkook’s wrist as the boy began digging his nails into his neck
as the fear set in hard.

“Dr. Kim—” began Soomi, but Jungkook flinched again.

“Out,” bellowed Taehyung, glaring at the pair of them. “Out, now.”

Pan looked affronted. “Well, I’ve never—”

“Soomi!” shouted Tae, and the nurse escorted Pan out with little fanfare, the cardiologist’s bluster
echoing behind them.
“Jungkook, Jungkook,” murmured Tae. The younger boy’s heart rate was already coming down as
the strangers left his room. “Breathe, please.”

“I’m g-going to die?”

“No,” said Tae firmly. He bent even closer, until he felt like he could fall into Jungkook’s wide
watery eyes. “Listen to me. I’ve got you. You’re my patient and I’m damn good at what I do. I
didn’t perform a seven hour surgery to fix you just to let you die on me now.”

Out of nowhere, Jungkook giggled. And the expression on his face afterwards was more surprised
than Taehyung’s. His body fully relaxed into the bed and his breathing and heart rate had come
under control.

“Now it’s all about you?”

Tae blew out a breath, pleased he felt well enough to play. “Now you’re catching on. Besides, you
haven’t finished groveling for my forgiveness yet, so you’re not allowed to die.”

“That must mean I’m making headway, then.”

“If you’re referring to the fact that I’m no longer mad at you, then yes. But that doesn’t mean I
forgive you.”

“I know,” murmured Jungkook.

Taehyung didn’t even realize he still held the boy’s hand until he felt Jungkook’s thumb stroking
the back of his hand.

“Can I ask why you’re not mad at me anymore?” Jungkook sounded so soft. Hesitant.

Taehyung sighed, crossing one leg under himself. “My job sucks sometimes,” he admitted, eyes on
the way their fingers naturally intertwined. “People can be difficult. Colleagues, nurses,
administrators, students. Then my patients themselves, and their families. I get exhausted,
sometimes. Sad. Being angry just…it takes up energy that I don’t have. It was ten years ago, you
were an idiot kid, and you apologized. So.” Tae blew out a long breath, looked up to meet
Jungkook’s awed gaze. “Friends?”

Jungkook nodded so emphatically, one of the ECG leads flew off of his collarbone. Tae fixed it
with a chuckle before offering Jungkook his hand to hold again.

Jungkook looked at their hands much like Taehyung had. But his eyes flitted to the words exposed
on Tae’s bare wrist.

He hadn’t taken the time for a watch.

Back off, freak.

“Definitely a conversation piece,” mused Taehyung, sighing a little. “I’ve gotten good at hiding it
but I slip up sometimes. Once I told someone we were costars in a Broadway production and we
were rehearsing lines when we met for the first time. Or that it was Halloween and I was an extra-
lifelike zombie who jumped you in an alley. Or that I worked in a pet store and tried to convince
you that cats were better as you were picking out your puppy.”

“You shouldn’t have needed a cover story at all,” said Jungkook bitterly.
Soomi tapped on the open door. “Dr. Kim?”

“Yes?”

“There’s a Sun Kyon at the front desk requesting you?”

Taehyung felt the familiar sadness threaten to drown him. Sun Kyon. Ms. Sun’s eldest daughter.
Two weeks ago Taehyung had held her hand and told her that her mother died on the operating
table.

“It’s two in the morning, Dr. Kim, you don’t need to see her,” said Soomi gently.

Tae ignored Jungkook’s inquisitive glance and got to his feet, squeezing the boy’s hand before
walking away.

“Taehyung?” ventured Jungkook, voice shaky. “Are you okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

Sun Kyon looked a mess. She wore sweatpants and a hoodie dotted with large coffee splotches, her
face heavily lined with exhaustion and her typically spotlessly groomed hair lay in limp tendrils
around her thinned cheeks.

“Ms. Sun?" Taehyung approached her, eyebrows narrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, clutching her purse tightly. “I can’t seem to sleep through the
night anymore. I’m so sorry to come here and bother you, I know you’re a busy man.”

“Please, it’s all right.” He ushered her to a couch and sat. “What can I do for you?”

She seized his hands in hers. “You never wanted her to get that surgery.”

Tae’s heart sank. “Ms. Sun—”

“You didn’t want her to do it,” she interrupted. “I could tell. Dr. Pan made her pitch and you
looked supportive but there was something in your eyes, you doubted it.”

“Ms. Sun, stop. Dr. Pan is a brilliant doctor, a world-renowned cardiologist. She deemed your
mother to be at risk of dying from heart failure without that bypass.”

She snapped.

“But she died anyway!” Ms. Sun leapt to her feet, towered over Taehyung with tears streaming
down her cheeks. “You let that doctor talk her into a procedure that everyone knew would
probably kill her! My mother should have passed away in her sleep, in her own bed, with Heen at
her side. In her own time.”

Taehyung couldn’t tell her that he agreed. Pan was a doctor. They had to support one another. It
was the code.

“Ms. Sun, your mother was one of my favorite patients. I grieve her like you do.” Tae slowly eased
to his feet. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“You coward! You’re just trying to save that doctor’s ass! You killed my mother, you son of a
bitch!”

She spit the words harshly. But they weren’t as harsh as the slap that cracked against his cheek.

The entire waiting room fell silent. People stared, wide-eyed.

Taehyung slowly lifted a hand to cover his stinging cheek. He felt the tears coming. And ruthlessly
buried them deep.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry for your loss,” he said evenly. Two members of security walked over to flank
him as he continued, “Please accept my condolences. I’m sorry but I need to ask you to leave now.
Go home to your family, Ms. Sun. They need you.”

Taehyung turned his back on her and walked away, listened to the sobbing insults hurled at his
back, listened to the shocked whispers of the spectators. He headed for the surgical wing and could
almost see the story spreading ahead of him.

Jin accosted him the moment Tae arrived, fussing over him like a worried mother. He could feel
his stony mask crumbling, and leapt for his cell phone when it went off, signaling an emergency
patient requiring his aid.

Taehyung dove into work. He performed an emergency appendectomy then immediately scrubbed
in to assist the oncologist with a liver lobectomy in a patient suffering from multicentric
lymphoma. Tae barely blinked when he finally emerged from the OR to see that night had settling
in again. The day had simply flown by.

He rounded on his patients, the surgical wing blessedly empty this time of night. Dreaming of his
bed and a monstrous pile of rice and chicken, he swung by Jungkook’s room on his way out of the
hospital.

Jungkook was sitting up in his bed, knees curled to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His
cheek rested on one knee as he gazed out the window, where a sliver of moon shone over the Seoul
skyline.

Taehyung felt half of his exhaustion simply melt away. And instead of fighting it, he embraced it.

“You aren’t sleeping,” he commented quietly as he leaned on the doorjamb.

Jungkook blinked at him, then lifted his head and smiled shyly. “I never sleep well.”

“Ah, right. Hospital.”

It took more effort than Tae would have thought to straighten his beleaguered body. He walked
closer, as if there was a string tied between him and the boy. One that beckoned him in, welcomed
him. He thought he looked casual as he approached but Jungkook suddenly straightened fully and
reached towards him.

“Are you all right?” asked Jungkook, and his voice was so concerned, so worried. “Taehyung,
there’s a bruise on your cheek.”

Tae stopped a foot away from the bed, lifting his hand to trace a finger over his aching cheek. “Oh.
Right. I guess there is.”

“Taehyung.”
“It’s not that bad, it’s just a little swollen.”

“Taehyung.”

“It’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’ve had worse, really, it’s not a big deal.”

“Taehyung.” Jungkook leaned and snagged his scrub top in a tight fist, reeled him in gently.
Cupping his face in gentle hands, Jungkook’s eyes roved his face, snagging on the bruise. “Who hit
you?”

Taehyung broke.

A tear slipped from his right eye, falling over the bruise. Jungkook wiped it away, achingly gentle.
More followed. And more, then still more, until they fell too rapidly for Jungkook to clear away.

“Taehyung? Please. Who hurt you?”

He was just.

So.

Tired.

Tae’s face crumpled when he sobbed.

“I killed her.”

Jungkook instantly bundled him in, tugged Taehyung into his lap where he curled up and pressed
his face to Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook murmured something indecipherable.

Moments later a blanket was tucked over Tae’s shoulders, the pair of them easing back to rest
against the elevated top half of the bed. Distantly Tae heard the room door snick closed.

The sobs were harsh and shook Tae’s frame. Tears soaked Jungkook’s t-shirt as Tae babbled out
the entire story.

“I killed her, I k-killed her, my favorite patient. I let Pan talk her into it knowing it would k-kill her,
that she wouldn’t survive it and now her family h-hates me. Her d-daughter hit me and I deserve it,
I deserve it all. I killed her.”

“No, you didn’t,” murmured Jungkook, over and over and over again as Taehyung kept desperately
repeating himself. “You didn’t.”

As suddenly as Taehyung had curled into him, he pushed Jungkook away, broke apart to sit on the
side of the bed, hiding his face in his own knees. Humiliated, he tried to stop the tears. He couldn’t
remember the last time he cried this hard, the last time he couldn’t stop the tears on a dime.

It must have been ten years ago, on that hot Seoul sidewalk.

He felt a warm hand stroke the small of his back. The motion was tentative. But it felt nice and Tae
didn’t pull away.
“You need sleep,” murmured Jungkook. “Come here, lay down.”

Tae snorted weakly, knuckling away tears. “I’m the fucking Chief of Surgery, I can’t be seen lying
with a patient.”

Jungkook nodded towards the door, where Jin had pulled up a chair directly outside it, scribbling in
a stack of charts. “Your hyung is basically guarding the door, Chief. Come on. It’s okay. I’ll sit
over there and let you rest a couple hours, you need it.”

Tae stared at him. At the messy black hair, the shadows of bruises and cuts decorating his firm
body, the bags under his eyes rivaling Taehyung’s own.

Instead of saying anything, Taehyung eased his legs up, shimmied up the bed and laid his head on
the pillow, careful of Jungkook’s leads and IV line. His body instantly sank into the thin mattress
like it was a cloud. He reached up a limp hand and pulled at Jungkook’s shoulder until the boy lay
down tentatively beside him.

The bed was tiny, hardly wide enough for the pair. With Jungkook lying on his back, Tae curled on
his side beside him, his front pressed against Jungkook’s side from head to toe. Tae caved to
exhaustion and buried his forehead against Jungkook’s shoulder, sighing deeply.

“Good night, Taehyung.”

He felt the words like a vibration in the body beside him, deeply soothing. “Night, Jungkook.”

Taehyung snapped awake the instant the door opened. It was only Jin hyung, who nodded at Tae
and quirked him a smile that reeked of approval before disappearing again. The clock on the wall
read seven in the morning.

He eased up to sit. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept so dreamlessly, so deeply. He was
usually a restless sleeper, prone to rolling back and forth, making a tangled mess of the blankets
and sheets. At least twice a week he fell out of bed. More than once a night he got up to pee, to get
a drink of water, to pace in aimless circles until exhaustion claimed him again.

Sleeping five hours in the same position was unprecedented.

He chanced a glance at Jungkook, who remained asleep. He still lay on his back, but his face was
tilted towards Tae, mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply. The monitors beeped a quiet, normal
rhythm, signaling all was well. His blood pressure had long since stabilized.

Taehyung didn’t realize their hands were entwined again until he moved to get up, and Jungkook’s
fingers tightened on his.

“Where you going?” the boy slurred, eyes blinking open sleepily.

Tae felt a rush of fondness that left him lightheaded. He blinked, surprised at himself.
“I have rounds in a bit,” he said quietly. “I’ve got to go.”

Jungkook whined, low in his throat, and Tae bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

Suddenly the boy sat up, and their faces came within inches of each other. They both blinked,
surprised. Jungkook reached up a hesitant hand.
Tae had ample time to back away, to get up, to leave.

But he didn’t want to.

Jungkook’s hand caressed his cheek, tracing a gentle finger over the swelling, the hint of bruise.
“Does it hurt?” he murmured.

Tae shook his head, then nuzzled his cheek into the warm palm. He liked the feeling of Jungkook’s
skin on his. There was warmth, and it tingled. Jungkook made another low sound, one Tae couldn’t
decipher.

Then Jungkook leaned in. And he kissed him.

And Taehyung let himself sink, let himself fall into the kiss.

He forgot their tangled history, he forgot the hurt, the pain, the regret. Oh, he thought. So this is
what it feels like.

Jungkook nibbled tentatively on his bottom lip and Tae’s breath hitched in his throat, shivering as
their mouths opened to let their tongues touch, hesitant, warm. Jungkook’s hands slid up to cup his
face, tilt it gently to the side, make the angle that much better.

Jungkook eased back first, only to press kisses to the corner of his mouth, to his injured cheek, up
to his temple, skimming over his closed eyes.

“Taehyung,” he murmured, waiting until Tae’s hazy eyes opened. “I like kissing you.”

Tae blushed. “I like it too,” he admitted. But confusion threatened to needle his thoughts.

“Can I…” Jungkook hesitated. “I want to take you on a date. When I get out of here, I mean.”

Taehyung blinked. A date? He had expected Jungkook to be smug, to say something along the
lines of that was that, we’ve proved we work, we’re together now, soulmates forever, yada yada.

Jungkook read his confusion easily, and his answering smirk was smug. “I’m courting you,” he
reminded him, making Tae scowl. “Get used to it.”

Tae finally extracted himself and got up, straightening his scrubs with a sniff. “That doesn’t mean
I’ll agree to a date with you, just like that.” Why the hell couldn’t he find his anger? Why the hell
was he tempted to let the boy who broke his heart take him out?

He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept waiting for Jungkook to give up, to lose
interest. It had been weeks of Jungkook lying in a hospital bed watching the absolute mess of a
working Taehyung, capped off with a complete breakdown the previous night.

“Stop looking like that,” pleaded Jungkook.

Tae snapped out of it. “Like what?”

“Like you’re waiting for me to insult you again.” Jungkook sighed when Tae gaped at him.
“Taehyung, you saved my life. You save lives, every day. You take all the shit that people dish out
at you and save lives anyway. I admire you so much. And I’d really, really, really, like to take you
out on a date.”

Taehyung was speechless.

“Please?” wheedled Jungkook, reaching out and playing with Tae’s fingers, smirking a little when
Tae slapped his hand away. “Please, please, please?”

“Fine,” groaned Taehyung, amused despite himself when Jungkook wriggled a little bit, as if his
excitement was too much for his mind to contain.

“You won’t regret it,” he vowed.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. What the hell did I just do?

Before he could further embarrass himself, he headed for the door. He opened it, then paused and
blew out a breath. “Tulips.”

“What?”

“Figure it out.”
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

there's these gifs on tumblr floating around from the BTS buzzfeed interview with
puppies and jk is cuddling this lil rascal who is LOOKING UP AT HIM IN
COMPLETE ADORATION AND JK IS AN OBLIVIOUS BUNNY meanwhile tae is
giving one a fuckin butterfly kiss like OMG THE AUDACITY and then he playfully
BIT at the puppy's NOSE and i'm shook and

seriously people, its the little things in life. work is hella stressful (STILL LOVE IT)
and holy shit i have a lot of responsibility and its wonderful and terrifying and looking
at my playful boys being ridiculous and cute and writing about them makes me smile.

hope everyone's happy and healthy and loving life ! thx as always for reading :)

The next day Taehyung entered the surgical wing only for seven of his nurses to swarm him,
squealing excitedly. Tae blinked at them, lost, and let them steer him to the nurse’s station where
six vases, each holding at least a dozen multicolored tulips, stood on the counter. They were
beautiful, stark against the beige hospital walls, near glowing under the ugly fluorescent lighting.

He stopped on a dime and gaped.

“I like this kid.” Jin stepped up beside him, smirking. “Any boy who puts this much effort into
wooing you earns automatic approval from me.”

“Gee, thanks, hyung. Means a lot.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm,” Jin called after him.

Taehyung swept into Jungkook’s room and stomped up to the bed. “Are you out of your mind?”

Jungkook blinked up at him, distracted from the video game in his hands. “What?”

“When I said tulips, I meant it as a joke, as in like one or two would be lovely, not that you should
send me hundreds and embarrass me in front of my entire surgical staff,” he hissed.

Shouts of laughter met his words and Tae whirled around to see Yoongi and Jimin sitting in chairs
by the window.

“You sent him flowers, Jungkookie?” cried Jimin, delighted.

“That’s my dongsaeng,” said Yoongi with clear approval.

“It wasn’t hundreds.” Jungkook smirked. “Six dozen, actually. Seventy two, if you’re feeling
particular.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“What’s your point?”

“It’s embarrassing,” whined Taehyung.

Jungkook seemed to consider that. He tilted his head, lips pursed as he studied him. “Do you like
them?”

“What?”

“You like tulips, right? They’re your favorite. You keep saying it’s an embarrassing public display
but I don’t hear you saying you hate them.”

Tae opened his mouth to succinctly declare he hated them, then closed it without saying anything.

He just couldn’t lie.

No one had ever given him flowers before.

And he liked them.

With a huff he spun on his heel and headed for the door, but manners stopped him.

“Thank you,” he threw over his shoulder, disappearing fast as laughter chased him out.

Someone called his name and Tae turned when he reached the end of the hallway. Jimin paused a
few steps away, hesitant. He wore jeans and a sweater, telling Tae he had finished up dance
rehearsals for the day.

“Taehyung.” Jimin fidgeted, wrapping the too-long sleeves around his tiny hands. “How are you?”

“Oh, don’t go getting all formal on me, Jiminie.”

He blushed. “Well, you were really angry last time we spoke.”

Tae sighed. “I know. I’m sorry for losing my temper.”

But Jimin shook his head vigorously, reaching out to grab Tae’s forearm. “No, no, no.”

“Jiminie—”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Tae. I know you hate to be pushed into talking about things but I
pushed you anyway and I shouldn’t have. And then I got upset and made it about me and I’m
sorry.”

“Jimin.” Taehyung stepped towards his best friend and hugged him, hard. “I’ve missed you.”

Jimin sniffled a little, and cuddled against his chest. “Miss you too, Taetae. Friends again?”

“Please. Like we ever stopped.”

Giggling, Jimin drew back. “So I hear someone’s taking you on a date.”

“Oh, Jimin.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t tease. But I think it’s great.” Jimin backed away slowly from the teasing glare
on Tae’s face. “Okay well, love you bestie, don’t kill me, bye!”

His cackling echoed down the hall as he ran away.

-

The tulips were still alive and well, flourishing on every surface of Taehyung’s apartment, when
the day came that Jungkook could be discharged. When Taehyung walked into the hospital room it
was to a crowd of people and enthusiastic hoots and applause.

Tae stopped dead. Blinked.

Jungkook sat on the side of his bed, dressed in clean jeans and a white button-down shirt that fit
loose and comfortably yet still betrayed the surprising thinness of his waist. He was scratching the
back of his head, face ducked shyly as Yoongi and Jimin crowded around him. Jin stood at the
head of a group of nurses, all the ones who had monitored Jungkook through his recovery the past
couple of weeks. Even Namjoon was there, having been drawn into the chaos days ago.

“The man of the hour!” crowed Jimin, practically jumping up and down.

Tae sighed, snapped the chart shut. “What is this?”

“They all want to listen to you do my last rounds presentation,” said Jungkook. “I did not, I repeat,
did not, tell them to come here for this. All I needed was for Yoongi hyung to get me home.”

“You may have almost died, Jungkook, but it’s not all about you.” Jimin sniffed. “Go ahead,
Taetae, lay it out.”

“Yeah, Taetae,” teased Jin.

Mightily tempted to serve his friends a middle finger, Tae just barely held on to his composure in
front of his colleagues.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he drawled, arching an eyebrow when the man of the hour warmly looked up at
him. “Twenty-six year old male, twelve days post-op from thoracic surgery following a motorcycle
accident which fractured two of his ribs, causing a traumatic pneumothorax, hemothorax and
concussion. Chest tube removed five days post-op with no complications. No sign of recurrent
pneumothorax or hemothorax. Concussion has resolved with supportive care. His original recovery
plan was complicated by multiple episodes of severe systemic hypotension brought on by acute
stress caused by overexertion.” Jungkook bit his lip to hide a grin when Tae scowled at him.
“Hypotension resolved with a dobutamine drip and hasn’t recurred in five days. Patient is being
discharged with moderate pain medications, strict instructions for home rest, and recommendations
for physical therapy. No vigorous exercise for at least eight weeks.”

Resounding cheers greeted the pronouncement, Jungkook laughing a little as Yoongi and Namjoon
bumped fists, as Jimin did a move that looked something like a happy dance mixed with having to
pee.

“Party at our place tomorrow night,” announced Jin to the crowd, casting Namjoon a gimlet stare
when the taller dimpled boy rolled his eyes. “Got to welcome the prodigal son home in style.”

“No alcohol. Not with your meds,” said Tae, uncaring when Jimin booed him because Jungkook
nodded seriously. “All right, you’re free to go, Mr. Jeon. No more wrecking your motorcycle,
there’s only so many times I can stitch your ass back together.”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Semantics.”
The room slowly emptied, most everyone still chuckling at their byplay. Jin flitted back to work
after kissing Namjoon warmly, ignoring his soulmate’s grumbling about the party, Namjoon
chasing him out the door for another kiss. Yoongi and Jimin casually strolled out after them, Jimin
winking back at Jungkook and making him blush.

Taehyung set the completed chart aside and stepped closer to Jungkook. “Seriously, don’t overdo it
once you get out of here, okay? You won’t be back to one hundred percent for a while.”

“Don’t you trust me, Tae?”

“Oh, boat loads.” He blinked. “Tae?”

Instantly backpedaling, Jungkook said hurriedly, “No, what? Tae who, I said Taehyung, you know,
because you said I could call you Taehyung so I didn’t say Tae—”

Tae stared, fascinated. He let him ramble for a bit, but his lips twitching into a smile betrayed his
amusement. “Jungkook. It’s cool.”

“W-what?”

“I like it.” Taehyung didn’t even blush when he admitted it. He crouched to help the younger boy
get his boots on, hiding a giggle when Jungkook missed the opening with his foot several times.

“Y-you…”

“Yeah, I like it. Let’s move on.”

“But—”

“Jungkook,” whined Taehyung.

“But you’re mad at me,” blurted Jungkook, standing up so rapidly that he swayed.

Tae easily braced him. “We’ve been over this. Not anymore. We’re friends, bun. Starting fresh.”

Jungkook stared at him. Then he cupped Tae’s face in his hands, and his smile was sweet and shy
and warm all at once. And he leaned in and kissed him. And Taehyung sank into it, he simply sank,
like he did in the lake outside his cabin when he made the trip every summer.

It made Tae’s heart flip.

One night during medical school, when Tae was alone and coming off a forty-eight shift at the
teaching hospital, too exhausted and afraid to drive, terrified he would fall asleep behind the wheel,
he had walked the two miles through London to his dingy apartment. He rarely walked, never had
the time or energy. But that night, he walked.

The street lights were a dim yellow, dim enough that Taehyung could ignore the trash in the
streets. A few drunk guys stumbled out of a pub, hooting and calling to him. He crossed the street
to avoid them. A double decker bus rolled by, kicking up the stench of exhaust. A couple of girls in
high heels and tiny dresses approached, cooing over his jawline, over the hair that was a brilliant
blonde at that time.

He advised them to turn down an alternate street.

Then he was alone. And felt suddenly, overwhelmingly, crushingly, lonely. He felt suffocated. He
staggered against a nearby fence, slamming a hand against it to brace his weight, gasping for air.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, until something nudged his leg.

A dog stood there. A middle-sized shaggy brown mutt, not remarkably cute nor ugly, either. A
stray by the look of the neck void of anything but fur. He sat neatly when Taehyung looked down
at him, then barked.

Taehyung simply collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around the dog, pressing his
forehead against the animal’s warm shoulder. And he breathed. And his heart flipped in his chest.
He wasn’t alone anymore.

Now it felt like that again. Like his heart had simply turned around in his chest, had jumped around
from the sheer emotion currently destroying Taehyung little by little.

“Starting fresh,” murmured Jungkook. He brushed his nose against Taehyung’s in a gesture that
made Tae melt. “Will you come to Jin and Namjoon’s party tomorrow?”

“Really? You want me there?”

“Tae. Of course I do. You’re basically the only person I care about showing up out of the mess of
people Jimin invited.”

“Don’t let Jimin hear you say that. Um, if I’m not working, then I’d love to.”

There was that bunny grin again. “Sweet. And don’t think this counts.”

“Counts?” Taehyung helped him get his coat on.

“As our first date. This doesn’t get you out of me taking you out.”

Tae rolled his eyes. “How about you focus on being able to stand for more than ten minutes at a
time without getting dizzy, okay?”

“Challenge accepted. And I was wondering, actually…”

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, bun.”

Jungkook laughed. “Well, I was wondering if I could get your number.”

“Oh.”

“I promise not to hassle you when you’re at work, I totally understand how busy you are and I
wouldn’t want to become a bother so if you’d rather not exchange numbers, that’s totally fine, I
could go buy some carrier pigeons, or study Morse code, or figure out how smoke signals work—”

“Jungkook,” interrupted Taehyung, amused to no end. “I was just trying to remember my cell
phone number.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

Tae shrugged a shoulder. “I never give it out to anyone, so I don’t have it memorized.”

Jungkook seemed almost stumped, then his lips quirked as he shook his head. “Never stop
surprising me.”

Moving surprisingly quickly for such an injured man, Jungkook reached out and snagged his
doctor’s coat, dragging him a step closer. He plucked a pen from the breast pocket and started
scribbling on Tae’s hand, still grinning a little.

“There,” he said when he was done. “That’s my number. Now you can go ahead and text me and
I’ll have your number. No stress necessary.”

That sounded like a hell of a lot of stress to Taehyung, but okay.

“Okay,” sighed Tae, skin tingling where the other boy had written on it. “At least this means no
carrier pigeons. Birds freak me out.”

“Noted.”

Taehyung did text him, once Yoongi and Jimin pushed the younger boy out of the hospital in a
wheelchair and helped him into the car, and after Tae helped his orthopedic surgery resident place
screws in a fractured femur. He told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just curious, that he
was simply a doctor checking on his patient.

What bullshit.

To: jungkook
hey it’s taehyung
just wondering if you got home okay

He received a response immediately, which somehow didn’t surprise him.

From: jungkook
TAE
thank god, there you are
save me

To: jungkook
??

From: jungkook
the hyungs kidnapped me

To: jungkook
what?
From: jungkook
apparently I’ll be staying in their guest room for a while
jimin and yoongi hyung’s
they literally put me in bed and forced me to stay put
I’m not allowed to go back to my apartment

To: jungkook
good

From: jungkook
TAE
whose side are you on
the AUDACITY

To: jungkook
I’m your doctor, I’m the one who assigned you to partial bed rest
you didn’t honestly think I’d disagree with your hyungs

From: jungkook
traitor

To: jungkook
…

From: jungkook
omg I take it back don’t hate me pls

To: jungkook
lol you’re so cute
so easy

From: jungkook
(cool, don’t mind me, just dying over here)
and easy?
no one’s ever told me that before
huh
To: jungkook
SO CUTE

From: jungkook
STAHP holy shit im dead
you’re talking to my ghost nbd
anyway jimin’s at least letting me tag along to rehearsals tomorrow
I can watch and mourn just how out of practice I am
and how much I’ll suck when I finally get back to it

To: jungkook
jungkook
this isn’t permanent
I know it feels like it is but it isn’t
you’ll be back at it soon and better than ever

From: jungkook
how can you be so sure

To: jungkook
are you doubting your doctor??

From: jungkook
omg no pls I’m sorry

To: jungkook
that’s what I thought
seriously jungkook
everything will be okay
enjoy the pampering while it lasts
I know that yoongi hyung isn’t one for waiting on his dongsaengs hand and foot

From: jungkook
you’ve got a point there
ugh I’m sorry

To: jungkook
for what??
From: jungkook
being such a little bitch and complaining
especially to you

To: jungkook
bun…

From: jungkook
(STOP you’re killing me)
you’re my soulmate and I’m supposed to be wooing you with my manliness goddammit

To: jungkook
…you realize I was literally wrist deep in your chest cavity a couple weeks ago right?
saving your life?
you have no secrets from me

From: jungkook
…
okay
that’s disturbing
and really fucking hot

To: jungkook
I’ve got five minutes before i have to do a cystotomy
I don’t have time to have a discussion about your kinks

From: jungkook
again, so hot
go save lives with your magic hands
I’ll see you tomorrow?

To: jungkook
yeah
yeah I’ll see you tomorrow bun

From: jungkook
(still DYING)

To: jungkook
(◕‿◕✿)

From: jungkook
fuck
you’re cute too
 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

life is good, hope everyone is happy & healthy !! much love to everyone following my
writing, it means so much <3

things are starting to heat up this chapter !

From: jiminie <3

have you heard from jungkook today?

The next day, Taehyung frowned down at his phone, scarfing a banana during his ten-minute break
between the two surgeries scheduled for his afternoon.

To: jiminie <3

no, I haven’t
why?

From: jiminie <3

that idiot
he came to watch rehearsals today
and stayed after when the rest of us left
to stretch, he said
but its been hours and he’s not answering me

Taehyung bit his lip. He and Jungkook were friends, at least, right? Not just estranged soulmates?
Checking up on him wouldn’t be weird. Unless he made it weird, by being himself or something.
After all, they did just start texting yesterday, they’d barely known each other a month and for over
half that time Jungkook had lain prostrate in a hospital doped up on pain medications that Tae
himself prescribed so it wouldn’t be weird to reach out, no.

Tae just shut his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Fuck it.

To: jungkook

hey how was watching rehearsals today?

Jungkook had told him about that so it wasn’t weird to remember, Taehyung reasoned. Perfectly
socially acceptable.

He hoped.

He scrubbed in on a bowel resection for a patient with stage two pancreatic cancer, then sat
through a tedious proposal from Dr. Lir asking for funding for his research on radiation therapies
for gastric adenocarcinomas. Taehyung didn’t lend his support to the project. The last research
venture Lir took on cost the hospital two hundred thousand and resulted in dozens of dead mice
and zero results. Lir was far too impetuous and slipshod to have the patience for research.

The entire presentation, Tae's attention was on his phone. His silent phone.

Jungkook never answered him.

Taehyung felt concerned, now. And he told himself the next text he sent did not make him
overbearing.

To: jiminie <3

tell me where he is

Hours later, as dusk fell over Seoul and the streets began to bustle with night life, Taehyung found
himself outside the headquarters of the entertainment company that Jimin and Jungkook danced
for, the same one that Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung also produced for. He was able to
bypass security thanks to his friends’ influence, taking the elevators as instructed by Jimin’s texts
until he reached a basement floor housing what looked like dance studios.

He walked until he heard music pumping through the walls, all of the studios empty at this time of
night, except for the one at the very end of the hallway. He paused and looked through the small
window in the door.

Jungkook stood in the middle of the room, bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing so hard
that his damp hair danced across his forehead. His t-shirt lay discarded on the floor. Sweat slicked
his bare chest, still laced with bruises and healing cuts. The vivid red scar from his surgery stood
out in stark relief against his pale skin, distracting Taehyung from his beautiful build.

His head whipped around when Taehyung opened the door, leaning in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked gruffly, straightening to swipe at the sweat on his
forehead.

“I thought you’d be in here undoing all my hard work,” he drawled sardonically, crossing his arms
over his chest. “Glad to see I was wrong.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung.”

He sounded so tired.

Taehyung slowly walked into the studio, studying the scuffed hardwood floors, the wall-to-wall
mirrors, the barre nailed to the wall, the ridiculously expensive-looking stereo system sitting
against one wall.

Jungkook had turned back to face the mirrors, beginning the routine again. Tae watched his legs
tremble, the tremors in his arms as he lifted them during a particularly complicated move, watched
his brow crease in obvious frustration as the move flowed a rough couple of beats behind the
rhythm of the music.

Taehyung’s heart hurt.

When Jungkook stumbled, Tae couldn’t help himself, rushing forward to grab his arm before the
boy could fall, ignoring the bad-tempered shrug he received in response.

“Jungkook,” whispered Tae, hurting for him.

“Stop,” begged Jungkook, trying to push him away, but his body held all the strength of a
newborn. “Tae, come on. I can keep going.”

“You can barely stand up straight. Please, Kook. Please stop.”

For a moment, Tae was convinced he would be shoved away, pushed back, snapped at to leave. But
Jungkook suddenly sagged, almost collapsing against him, pressing his forehead to Tae’s shoulder.

“What if I can’t do it anymore?” His voice trembled so hard, Tae could barely distinguish the
words. “What if I can’t dance anymore, what if I never get it back? It’s all I know how to do, it’s
what I am—”

Tae cupped his face, shushing him quietly, cutting off the frustrated ramble. He looked straight
into his eyes and said firmly, “Jungkook. Bun, you nearly died. It’s only been a month. It’s going to
take time to get back to where you were.”

“I need it,” confessed Jungkook, reaching up to grip Tae’s wrists hard. “Taehyung, I don’t know
who I am without dance.”

“You’re Jungkook. You’ll always be Jungkook. If I’ve learned anything about you in the past
month, it’s that you’re a stubborn son of a bitch, bun.” Tae grinned a little when the other boy
snorted in surprise. “You’ll get back to where you were. But it’s not going to happen right away.”

The boy sighed, tension leaving him in a wave that Tae could physically see.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked him again, after a quiet moment, but his voice was
soft now, warm, as he stroked down Tae’s sides to caress his waist.

“Jimin told me where you were. I had to see for myself just how badly you were disobeying your
doctor’s orders.”

He had the decency to blush, averting his eyes. “I wasn’t going that hard,” he mumbled.

“Your legs are shaking,” drawled Taehyung. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You’ve got a
party about to start in your honor, remember?”

Jungkook sighed. But he didn’t fight him.

Jungkook’s apartment was smaller than Taehyung’s, but infinitely homier. Tae couldn’t remember
the last time he curled up on his couch and watched a movie; he used his apartment to sleep and
bathe and change clothes and occasionally eat, that was it. But Jungkook’s was lived in. The tiny
living room held a couch that sagged from use, covered in worn blankets. The carpet was
comfortably faded. There were dishes in the sink of the adjoining kitchen.

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, shrugging a little. “It’s not much.”

Tae looked around, his smile growing. “It’s perfect.”

Blushing, Kook waved him away. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to grab a shower before we
head to Jin hyung’s.” He hesitated a moment. “Want to cab over together?”

“Sounds good.” Tae chuckled as Jungkook ducked his head and moved towards the bedroom and
attached bathroom, stumbling over a video game controller.

Framed pictures decorated most of the walls. Tae moved closer to study them, looking at the tiny
boy who must be a younger Jungkook from the overbite and too-long black hair. Many pictures
featured him hugging or in the arms of an older couple. Jungkook and the woman had the same
shape to their eyes, the same laugh lines around their mouths, and his nose was almost an exact
copy of the older man’s.

With a start, Tae realized the couple must be his parents, dead these ten years.

Tae rubbed a hand over his still-aching chest.

More pictures featured Yoongi hyung, often wearing his trademark disgruntled expression with
Kook hanging off his shoulders or giving him bunny ears. There were more kids in pictures that
Tae assumed to be friends from college, and even a couple recent ones featuring both Yoongi and
Jimin, often with a dance hall or recording studio in the background.

Tae picked up a picture of the three of them, Jungkook squished in the middle with a sheepish grin
on his face. Jimin stood on the left, both arms wrapped around the younger boy’s chest in one of
his koala hug death grips, grinning so hugely his eyes were tiny crescents above his round cheeks.
Yoongi stood on the other side, one arm slung around both of them, smirking.

“That was taken a month after I joined the company,” came Jungkook’s quiet voice, startling Tae.
He nearly bobbled the frame.

He walked over, leaned into Tae to press a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “I still can’t believe
Jimin and I didn’t recognize each other,” he murmured, lips moving against the thin fabric of Tae’s
t-shirt. “Granted, ten years ago I was too busy staring at you, but still. I should have showed him
my tattoo.”

Uncomfortable, Tae gently put the frame down. “I didn’t recognize you in the hospital either. It’s
okay, bun.”

Jungkook put his hands on Tae’s waist, gently turned him around and eased him against his chest.
Tae settled into the warmth, so new, so soothing, so…so Jungkook. The younger boy smelled
cleanly of fresh soap, hair shaggy from a quick towel dry. He was dressed in dark skinny jeans and
a plain black collared shirt with the top three buttons undone, exposing a fair bit of toned chest. Tae
forced himself to remember he had studied and touched almost every inch of Jungkook's body, in
his professional capacity as his doctor, but it didn't make being surprisingly faced with it any easier
to handle.

Tae idly reached up and smoothed some of the wild strands of dark hair. This close, he could feel
the little tremors shake Jungkook’s frame.

“You overdid it today, didn’t you?”

“No. Well, yes,” admitted Jungkook sheepishly. “But I’m always like this.”

“Like what?”

“Shaking,” he whispered, snaking his arms fully around Tae’s waist. “I always shake when you
touch me.”

Tae made a helpless sound in his throat and surged forward, kissing Jungkook hard, almost
whimpering when Kook nipped at his bottom lip before intertwining their tongues. Taehyung
simply melted, knowing Jungkook would bear his weight, support him with everything he had.

But this beautiful boy still shook in his arms.

So Taehyung was the one to pull him towards the couch, push him down gently with a hand on his
shoulder. Jungkook settled, leaned his back against it, cocked his head in drowsy curiosity.

“Tae?”

Taehyung hushed him, voice low and soothing, easing himself down to straddle the younger boy’s
waist. Jungkook welcomed him with open arms, their lips meeting again in a kiss that was soft and
warm. Comforting, rather than passionate, as Jungkook still shook beneath him.

Heart pounding in his chest, Tae cupped Jungkook’s face in his hands, danced kisses over his
hairline, his temples, down his cheeks to his lips again before pressing lazy open-mouthed kisses
down his neck.

“Tae,” murmured Jungkook in a drunken tone.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispered back.

A wave of possessiveness swarmed Taehyung. He pictured this boy, this beautiful, kind boy,
underneath someone else, lips pressed to someone else’s, and everything within him rejected it.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, more fiercely. He kissed him, more hungrily now, fingers
anchoring in his hair. “Mine.”

“Yours,” echoed Jungkook instantly. His hands likewise came up to frame Tae’s face. “I’ve been
yours since I hit that ER.”

“Mine.” He ran his fingers through the other boy’s soft, dark hair, feeling the shivers increase in
intensity. “Mmm. You like your hair being played with, bun?”

The nod was shaky, but fervent.

A cell phone rang, somewhere in one of their pockets. Water dripped from the leaky faucet in the
kitchen sink. Traffic roared from the street below, an occasional honk blaring through the
windows.

They were oblivious to it all.

Tae continued to stroke and play with his hair, heat racing up his spine as Jungkook whimpered
when he tugged experimentally on the strands.
He broke their kiss to hiss, “God, bun, so good. So good for me.”

And Jungkook whined, head falling limply against the back of the sofa. His hips rose and pressed
against Taehyung, making Tae groan.

“God.” Tae panted, eyes wild as he stared down at him. “You like that. You like being a good
boy?”

“Hyung,” whined Jungkook, writhing beneath him. “Kiss me again.”

Tae pressed a kiss to his neck, teasingly light. “I am kissing you.”

“Hyung.” Jungkook’s pout was quite impressive. “Do it right.”

“What happened to being a good boy?” Tae leaned fully back, arched a brow teasingly.

Jungkook could only sit there and pant, staring up at the older boy with frustrated want in his eyes.
He writhed, tried to grind his hips up, aching for contact, but Tae tightened his knees and pinned
them down.

Jungkook always took care of his partners in bed. He liked control, he liked taking care of
someone, having them rely on him for their pleasure.

But something in Jungkook simply ached to be taken care of. To have Taehyung take care of him.
To have his soulmate take care of him, to have Tae wind him up and take him apart. He felt he’d
burn up with the wanting.

“Kiss me,” pleaded Jungkook. “Please?”

Taehyung groaned and acquiesced. “Such beautiful begging. So good,” he murmured, kissing him
deep.

An incessant buzzing in Taehyung’s back pocket distracted them. Jungkook slid a hand into his
back pocket, giving Tae’s ass a casual squeeze and making him gasp, before extracting the phone
and making as if to throw it across the room. Tae grabbed his wrist with a breathless chuckle.

“It’s probably Jin hyung,” he said breathlessly, near moaning as Jungkook took the opportunity to
attack his throat with teasing nips and long sucks. The screen illuminated, displaying dozens of text
messages and a few missed calls from Seokjin. They were an hour late for the party.

Taehyung cupped the other boy’s face, sighing before pressing one soft, slow kiss to his lips. “We
have to go. There’s a lot of people waiting to see you finally out of bed.”

“What if I want to go back to bed?” Jungkook murmured against his lips. “With you.”

Taehyung shivered, drew back to look in his eyes.

He wanted Jungkook. He knew he wanted Jungkook. But what if it was a mistake? What if
sleeping together made their situation more confusing than it already was? It would make them
fuck buddies, at the least. They hadn’t even gone on their first date yet.

And what if it was amazing? What if Taehyung felt things with Jungkook that he’d never felt with
the scatter of one-night stands he had throughout college and med school, what then?

What if Jungkook disappeared again? Tae wasn’t sure he’d survive being left alone for the second
time.
Before Taehyung could continue overthinking things, Jungkook pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.
“Let’s go to the party.”

Tae blinked. “What? But—”

“There’s no rush,” continued Jungkook, soothing Tae now, just like Tae had soothed him earlier.
“Taehyung. Tae, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. I’m in this for the long haul.”

A lump rose in Taehyung’s throat, his hands tightening on Jungkook’s wrists. “I didn’t mean to
suggest you’d ditch me—”

“I know. I know.” Kook kissed him again. “I want you, Tae. God, I want you so much.”

“I want you too—”

“So we’re going to wait,” said Jungkook, nodding decisively. “Because this time I’m not running
off on you.”

“Technically I was the one to disappear on you.”

His stare was very unamused. “No. No, I did. And this time around is going to be different. So let’s
go to the party. I want to show you off.”

Blushing, Tae extricated himself from Jungkook’s lap, both of them half-hard and aching.
Jungkook grabbed his hand to lead him from the apartment, and as they piled into a taxi, Taehyung
found himself hoping Jungkook never let him go.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

taehyung is now BLONDE (personal fav) and jungkook is like a BERRY-ISH

PURPLEY RED and my heart rly can't take it

they looked sooo happy on that lotte stage, everyone needs to go watch airplane pt 2
where they bump fists, its freaking adorable. them being happy makes me happy

hope you like the new chapter !

Jin and Namjoon lived in a penthouse in Gangnam not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The couple
could hear the music from the elevator while still a few floors away, making Taehyung roll his
eyes. He liked parties, though he could rarely indulge in them. He liked the mix of people, the
drinks, the dancing.

But he noticed Jungkook growing quieter as they ascended, falling completely silent as they got off
on the top floor and approached the front door. Taehyung was about to ask him if he was okay
when the door suddenly swept open, the wave of noise making them flinch, and hands grabbed for
them to pull them inside.

Dozens of people were there, some of which Taehyung recognized from the hospital, a lot of
nurses and lab staff and orderlies that had befriended Jungkook during his long stay. The rest of the
crowd were strangers to Tae, but judging from their fit frames and elegant movements he supposed
they were friends of Jungkook and Jimin and Yoongi from the company, dancers and producers.

Taehyung was swept into tipsy hugs from his friends among the nurses, while Jungkook was
immediately put into a headlock by a man with vivid orange hair and a cheerful grinning face who
all but shot sunlight out of his pores.

“Jungkookie!” the man crowed, near throttling Kook in his enthusiasm. “You almost die and you
don’t let me know? I had to find out from our resident grandpa, shame on you.”

“Call me grandpa one more time, Hobi,” growled a nearby Yoongi.

Jungkook laughed and extracted himself to reach for Taehyung, gently pulling him to his side, as
easy as breathing. “Taehyung, this is Hoseok, or Hobi. We’ve danced together for years. Hoseok,
this is Kim Taehyung. He’s the surgeon who saved my life. And my soulmate.”

Tae fought to hide his shock. Jungkook had stated the words so casually, so confidently. Like he
was proud to belong to Taehyung. He had warned Tae that he wanted to show him off, but damn.

Give a guy some warning.

Hoseok’s eyes widened comically moments before he jumped forward to sweep Taehyung into a
suffocating hug. He pulled back after a moment to squeal happily, “Holy shit, it’s so nice to meet
you! Oh my gosh, you guys are like a kdrama, this is insane. I’m so happy!”

Taehyung’s lips twitched, and he leaned into Jungkook’s side. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Hoseok opened his mouth again but Taehyung was distracted by a sudden weight jumping on his
back, making him startle, but then he grinned. He bore the familiar figure easily.

“Taetae!” crowed an obviously drunk Jimin. “Where have you and Kookie been? We had to start
the party without you.”

“Obviously,” observed Tae, finally dislodging his friend and spinning to face him, noting the red
cheeks and blurry eyes.

Jimin’s eyes widened as he stared at Taehyung’s neck. He started dancing in place, pointing at him,
squealing a sound that wasn’t words.

Tae blushed and reached up to cover the hickies on his neck. “Don’t—”

“Oh my god!” exploded Jimin. “You guys totally slept together!”

Taehyung sunk his face into his hands with a groan, as Jungkook stifled a laugh and squeezed the
nape of Tae’s neck in a comforting way. Hobi cackled in a voice eerily similar to Jimin.

“I’m shocked Jungkook could get it up. You look like roadkill, buddy.” He dodged Jungkook’s
swipe with the ease of long practice. “Jimin, I didn’t know you knew Jungkook’s soulmate,” he
continued.

“Oh, we go way back. We were besties in diapers,” said Jimin, punching Tae affectionately in the
shoulder. “Stop pouting, Tae. Sex is totally natural—”

“No, no, no.” Tae clapped a hand over Jimin’s mouth. “No we haven’t. Not yet.”

“Not yet—”

“I need a drink.”

“I’ll get it,” offered Jungkook, still struggling to hold in his laughter. “Gin and tonic?” He blushed
at Tae’s arched stare. “Jin hyung told me.”

“That’d be perfect. Thanks, bun.”

Nearby Hobi feinted a swoon. “The cuteness. I’m dying.”

Taehyung was left wondering just how much Jin hyung had told Jungkook about him during those
long, boring days in the hospital.

Jungkook returned quickly with their drinks and they all tapped glasses in a cheers to Jungkook’s
health, making the younger boy blush as his friends all dove into recounting embarrassing stories
about him in honor of his recovery. Tae particularly enjoyed the one where a drunk Jungkook
performed a strip tease on top of the bar at a local pub during a night out after winning a local
dance competition.

Jungkook furiously denied Taehyung’s catcalls for a repeat performance. In retaliation, he leaned
in while their friends were occupied and nipped at Tae’s ear, hotly promising to give him a private
performance at a later date.

Taehyung shivered, and wondered just how he had gotten so lucky.

Taehyung found himself alone in the kitchen later on in the night, Jungkook having been dragged
away by his dancer friends. He poured himself a glass of water and sagged against the counter,
stretching first one leg then the other as his ankles throbbed, protesting the hours and hours spent
in surgery the past few days. He definitely needed a break.

He was daydreaming about his cabin in the mountains, picturing how beautiful the lake looked in
late autumn, marveling at how easy it was to picture Jungkook reclining in the Adirondack chair
beside his own, when someone stumbled into the kitchen, righting himself with a hand smacked on
the counter uncomfortably close to Taehyung’s hip.

Tae backed away cautiously, not recognizing the guy.

“My bad,” slurred the stranger, peering at Tae with bloodshot eyes. “Whoa. You’re hot.”

Tae laughed uncomfortably. “Um. Thanks. I should go.”

“Wait.” The guy caught his arm in an uncomfortably tight grip. “Don’t run off. I want to talk to
you.”

“I’ve got people waiting on me so—”

“Are you bonded?” The stranger manhandled Tae’s arm, ignoring his yelp and struggles, turning
his right wrist face up. He read the words. The laugh he let out was mocking. “Wow. You’ve got a
real keeper there. Why don’t you have some fun with me instead?”

“No,” said Tae decisively, and yanked himself loose, backing away several steps. “Don’t touch me
again.”

Hoseok bopped into the kitchen, bright hair bouncing. Instantly he scowled, his entire demeanor
darkening. “Hyungsik, what are you doing here?”

The guy sneered at Hoseok. “None of your business.”

“It is, seeing as Jin hyung and Namjoon hyung barred you from their place,” said Hoseok coolly.
He ignored Hyungsik and looked at Tae. “You good, Taehyung?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was about to come find you guys, actually.”

“I see.” Hoseok outstretched a hand to him, but his eyes were glaring at Hyungsik. “Let’s go then.”

As Taehyung walked around Hyungsik, the guy suddenly reached out and grabbed a handful of
Tae’s ass. Tae yelped and pivoted neatly on a heel, leading with his fist.

He punched Hyungsik straight in the eye.

Immediately Tae danced back, cursing as his knuckles throbbed hard enough to bring tears to his
eyes. “Damn it,” he cussed viciously, shaking his hand out, ignoring the moaning Hyungsik
sprawled on the floor. “Forgot how much that hurts.”

“Holy shit.” Hoseok’s eyes were wide with awe. “That was so hot.” He spun around and shouted at
the top of his lungs with obvious glee, “YO! TAEHYUNG JUST KNOCKED OUT HYUNGSIK!”

If it was anyone else, Taehyung would have laughed at the way the music immediately cut off and
people started swarming the kitchen. As it were, he merely sighed and stepped back, boosting
himself up to sit on the counter and examining his rapidly swelling knuckles with a clinical eye as
Namjoon and Yoongi dragged Hyungsik out, as Jimin gaped and badgered Hoseok for details.

Taehyung blinked, and Jungkook was suddenly standing in front of him with eyes narrowed in
anger.

“The hell happened?” the younger boy hissed, taking Taehyung’s hand in his with utmost care.

“That dude grabbed my ass out of nowhere. I didn’t want to be touched,” grumbled Taehyung.

“Shit. I’m so fucking sorry, Tae.” Jungkook looked around but didn’t move from his protective
stance in front of his soulmate. “Jin hyung! Grab me an ice pack!”

The party began to break up when Yoongi didn’t fire the music back up, excited whispers trailing
everyone out the door. Their little group remained huddled in the kitchen, Jungkook not budging,
holding a bag of frozen peas to Tae’s aching hand.

“I’ve got four surgeries scheduled for tomorrow,” hissed Tae when he tried to clench his knuckles
into a fist. His fingers were purpled and slightly swollen. “Damn it.”

“I’m sorry,” repeated Jungkook in a whisper.

“Wasn’t your fault, stop,” sighed Taehyung, already fed up with apologies, since Jin hyung had
already smothered him with them. “Look, I’m just gonna get going, okay? I’m half-drunk and my
hand hurts, I need to sleep.”

“Are you sure? It’s still kind of early, we could go grab a movie or get some takeout and go to my
place or something, chill out a bit,” suggested Jungkook, worry in his eyes.

But Taehyung knew from experience that he was shitty company when he was angry. “I just want a
dark room and my bed.” He slid down from the counter, kissed Jungkook warmly to make up for
the dismissal. “Sorry, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Can I text you later?” Jungkook said next, uncertainty in his tone.

Hating himself a little, Taehyung kissed him again, then once more for good measure. “Of course.
Night, bun.”

Taehyung made quick work of the rest of his goodbyes and only minutes later was putting himself
in a cab, blessedly alone and hating himself.

“It’s okay, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looked up from glaring at the ground, blinking at Jin hyung. “What?”

“Tae has a nasty temper. It doesn’t get riled very often but when it does he tends to separate
himself so he doesn’t cause any collateral damage.” Jin rolled his eyes. “The last time I cornered
him to give him some affection he all but bit my head off.”

Jungkook thought back to the night Tae had spent with him in his hospital bed, the way he had let
Jungkook comfort him when he was sad, when his patient’s daughter slapped and berated him.
Why did Taehyung let him help then, but keep a distance now?

It plagued Jungkook as he hung out with his hyungs for a little while longer before Yoongi hyung
and Jimin dragged him back to their place to get some rest. He took a cool shower then lay in bed,
his body almost instantly dragged into sleep. He definitely overdid it today.

But he couldn’t quite give in to sleep. Instead, he fiddled with his phone, lip between his teeth as he
considered.
To: tae
hey, I was just wondering if you got home ok? lemme know

Jungkook hit send, then winced. Was that too much? But his phone chimed a moment later.

From: tae
hey bun
yeah im home
sorry for just taking off like that
that wasn’t cool

Instantly, relief swamped him, and Jungkook hurriedly replied.

To: tae
no no you don’t have to apologize
seriously, its ok

From: tae
no its not but thanks for trying to make me feel better
I have a bad habit of lashing out at ppl when im pissed
and I didn’t want to do that
to you, most of all

To: tae
you can take your anger out on me any time
I mean it

From: tae
I’ll remember that
not that I plan on punching out any assholes in the future

To: tae
hows the hand?

From: tae
hurts like a bitch
ive got an ice pack strapped to it for the night
hopefully the swelling will go down by morning so I can operate tomorrow

To: tae
im rly sorry that happened to you

From: tae
stopppp
wasn’t your fault that dude was a dick
I haven’t been groped like that since college
I’d be complimented, except, well
im fucking not

To: tae
k that was pretty funny
but im gonna pretend I didn’t laugh cause I think its too soon

From: tae
…you wrote that just to make me laugh didn’t you

To: tae
depends
did it work?

From: tae
maybe

To: tae
*pumps fist*

From: tae
you nerd
im gonna crash
good night bun
thank you
To: tae
for what??

From: tae
for caring

Jungkook’s chest ached. He wanted to take Taehyung in his arms, wanted to undo the damage he
had caused ten years ago. His hands shook with the effort of holding back all the things he wanted
to say, to confess.

He was dangerously afraid that he was careening headfirst into love.

To: tae
always

Taehyung’s hand ached something fierce the next morning but he was still able to bend and work
his fingers. Relieved, he headed to the hospital and settled into a long day of surgery. Jin hyung
popped up halfway into his day and grabbed his arm to drag him to the nurse’s station despite his
grumbling.

“Jin hyung, I only have five minutes—”

“This won’t take long,” said Jin cheerfully, carting the surgeon behind him with little effort. “Trust
me, you want to see this.”

“See what?”

They skidded to a stop in front of the nurse’s station and Taehyung took one glance at the counter
then nearly melted on the spot. He sighed, and walked closer to bury his face in the dozen blush-
pink tulips sitting there neatly in a crystal vase. The nurses sitting there all cooed at him. But for
once, Taehyung simply didn’t care.

He had a soulmate. A soulmate who cared about him, wanted to court him, wanted to shout to the
world that he was proud to be by Taehyung’s side. Tae reveled in it.

He plucked the card out of the blooms and opened it, hiding the pretty paper from Jin’s curious
eyes.

Hope your hand feels better. Kick ass today but also eat something, and drink water, and stretch.
And don’t roll your eyes.

Jungkook

Taehyung was indeed rolling his eyes.

“I’ll put them with your stuff so you don’t forget them later,” offered Jin, taking the flowers into
his arms with utmost care. “Now go eat something.”

Feeling berated on all sides, Tae sighed but obeyed. He massaged his hand for a minute before
extracting his phone from his scrubs.

To: jungkook
more flowers? you’re spoiling me

From: jungkook
you’re infinitely worth spoiling
do you like them?

To: jungkook
they’re beautiful
thank you bun

From: jungkook
glad you like them
how are your surgeries going?

To: jungkook
first two were successful
these next two will be rough though
they’re both older patients, with a history of heart disease
and a bunch of other problems

From: jungkook
damn
that sounds so intense
you’re going to do great, don’t sweat it

Tae’s heart threatened to melt, as he continued to massage his aching hand. How did Jungkook
know to say the exact words Tae needed to hear?

To: jungkook
thank you, seriously
that means a lot to hear
From: jungkook
like I said, always

Taehyung kept the words with him as he scrubbed in, as he ignored the aching in his hand, as he
operated. As his patient died on the table from cardiac arrest, her heart unable to take the strain of
removing a tumor from her liver. Tae kept the words with him as he told the patient’s family, as the
family screamed at him for failing, for not doing his job.

He kept the words with him as he performed the last operation of the day, as the next patient came
through it successfully, as the grateful family swarmed him with hugs and kisses that made his
heart light. He kept the words with him when the patient threw a clot to the brain an hour post-op,
when the patient died under his aching hands as he performed CPR, when he had to go back out to
the waiting room and tell the family about the complication and that the patient died, when the
family stared at him with sadness and confusion.

Taehyung kept the words with him the entire bus ride home, as he showered, as he changed for
bed. He kept the words with him as he crawled under the covers, curled into a ball, and shook like
a leaf.
 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

thank you all for the kind words & comments !! i sincerely apologize if i don't reply - i
try to reply to all but i run out of time!

who knew having an actual career would restrict your free time...

as always, thanks for reading !! winding down on this story soon - but i've got another
multi-chap in the works, never fear ;) stay tuned !

The next morning, Taehyung’s hand was swollen, his knuckles too stiff to make a fist. Tae stared
at his hand in dismay, then called Jin and had him reschedule his surgeries for that day. He loved
his work, but he also knew when to take care of himself. Mission accomplished, he lay back in
bed, stared up at the ceiling. He thought of the families of his patients from the previous night, the
opposite ends of the emotional spectrum he had endured. His body threatened to shake again so he
purposely clenched his hand for a distraction. He winced at the pain. Well, that worked.

Soon he realized he had a true day off for the first time in a very, very long time.

Near panicking, he grabbed his phone again and dialed, motions on autopilot.

“Hello?” came a groggy voice from the receiver.

Tae winced, checked the clock. Five am. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I just dialed. I didn’t really think
about it—”

“Taehyung, it’s okay,” came Jungkook’s voice. “Are you all right? Is it your hand?”

Tae’s insides went funny. “It’s a little swollen, is all. I had to take the day off, reschedule my
procedures.”

“I know you hate missing work.” Jungkook’s voice was ripe with sympathy. “But another day or
two and you’ll be fine.”

Tae was finding it hard to speak past the lump in his throat. “I know,” he managed. “But see, I
haven’t taken a true day off in a really long time, and…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’m not really sure what to do,” admitted Taehyung, chuckling when the other boy snorted
into the phone. “No, seriously! Like I definitely need to do laundry and clean my place but
otherwise, I’m out.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Really?”

“Taehyung.” Jungkook was definitely laughing now, a sound of total joy. “You have a day off from
the hospital. I would really, really love to spend some time with you. If you want.”

Taehyung wiggled in his bed, took the phone away from his ear to squeal into his pillow. What is
this? This rush of elation, this giddiness? He’d never felt the like. He couldn’t find a diagnosis.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat roughly when he somewhat composed himself. “Yes,
Jungkook, I’d love to.”

Because who was this boy, truly? His soulmate? His friend? The man he was scared to lose himself
too? Perhaps he could get some answers.

“Sweet,” breathed Jungkook, and Tae could all but see the smile through his voice. “Okay, I’ll be
there in a bit. Don’t bother changing out of your pajamas.”

Tae cast a glance at his Cambridge sweats and overlarge tee, then pouted. “Jungkook.”

“Just trust me, yeah?”

Fuck it.

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

Taehyung had an hour to sit there and drive himself crazy. He jumped out of bed and strode for his
closet at least a dozen times. Sure, the request was to stay in pajamas, but really, would Jungkook
know if he slipped into the satin set he’d paid an exorbitant amount of money for? Or put on his
favorite leggings and sweater? Jungkook didn’t know what he preferred to sleep in.

Yet, anyway.

The thought had Taehyung near swooning with warmth and he rolled in delirious circles across his
bed, drumming his feet against the mattress. It wasn’t until his hand protested mightily while he
hugged his pillow that he winced and even remembered his injury.

Suddenly the pain in his hand was all he could feel.

Pouting as his elation was somewhat dimmed, Taehyung did get up, but headed straight to the
kitchen and extracted a gel ice pack from the freezer. He unlocked the front door in one decisive
action then retreated again to the kitchen to watch his coffee maker drip fresh coffee into the pot,
boosting himself up to sit on the counter, pressing the ice pack to his aching hand.

Halfway through his second cup of coffee, almost regretting it since he was jittery enough without
adding caffeine to the mix, a firm knock came on the door.

“It’s open,” he called, too comfortable, still perched on the wide counter with one leg bent, bottom
of his foot pressed to the opposite thigh.

The door nudged open, and Jungkook poked his head in. His hair was damp and messy, as though
he had barely taken the time to towel it dry after a shower. It made Tae smile, thinking maybe he
wasn’t the only one to be a wreck over the sudden plans. His eyes brightened when he saw Tae and
he slipped inside, arm muscles bunching in his black t-shirt as he shut the door behind him. His
dark jeans were deceptively loose high on his thighs but hugged his trim waist close and
conformed to the muscles of his calves.

Taehyung swallowed, throat dry.

“Please tell me your door wasn’t open all night,” requested Jungkook as he removed his boots and
padded towards Tae, discarding his backpack carelessly on the couch. Tae liked how homey the
actions seemed.

Tae shook his head. “Nope. Just for you.”

“Glad to hear that,” breathed Jungkook, then suddenly he was directly in front of Tae.

Tae just stared at him, for one more moment, then set his coffee mug aside and let the ice pack
plop to the counter. “Fuck it,” he whispered.

He’d had Jungkook beneath him and moaning. Why was he so shy about a kiss?

Tae slid his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders to pull the other boy closer.

He kissed him, sweet and soft, tasting the toothpaste in the other boy’s mouth as Jungkook released
an appreciative rumble and moved in until his hands bracketed Taehyung’s waist on the counter.
The kissed for long, long minutes. Tae tried repeatedly to bring him even closer, attempted to wrap
his legs around Jungkook’s waist, but Jungkook remained steadily out of reach.

“Kook.” He pouted.

Jungkook chuckled, a little breathless. “You’re making it impossible to take this slow, Tae.”

“Fast now. Slow later.” Tae tried to kiss him again.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he whined.

Taehyung cast him a gimlet stare. “Jungkook. I haven’t gotten laid in months. I haven’t gotten laid
properly, in years. From how making out went yesterday, I think we both want it.”

Jungkook rumbled, nipped at his jaw punishingly. “Tae—”

“You can’t seriously be about to protest.”

He nipped at him again. “I’m not protesting.”

“So,” drawled Taehyung, visibly brightening. “Bedroom?”

“Sure.” Jungkook let Taehyung push him back then take his hand to pull him towards the bedroom
with single-minded intensity. “We can strip the bed and wash your sheets.”

Stopping on a dime, Tae stared at him. “You. Cannot. Be. Serious.”

“Dead. Serious.” Laughing now, Jungkook reeled him in despite his protests and nuzzled into his
neck. “Taehyung. We’re going to put on some music.”

“Okay, I like that.” Tae tilted his head for easier access.

“Then, we’re going to go to your bed.”

“Yes,” agreed Tae breathlessly, as Jungkook skimmed his nose up his neck.
“And strip the sheets and wash them. Then we’ll scrub the floors and dust your furniture and clean
your bathroom because you'll rest more comfotably in a clean home…”

Still talking, Jungkook headed for his room, leading a bemused and somehow entertained
Taehyung by the hand.

Taehyung learned that Jungkook was trash for the Top 40. And Jungkook learned that Taehyung
liked his lo-fi with as little lyrics as possible. Taehyung wore fuzzy socks while sliding across
freshly polished hardwood. Jungkook preferred being barefoot. Taehyung liked drinks with
bubbles while Jungkook nearly gagged when he tried the designer sparkling water. Taehyung
owned bottle upon bottle of fancy white wine. Jungkook enjoyed soju.

And yet.

Those were surface things, superficial things.

Taehyung still fit into the cradle of Jungkook’s body when they reclined on the sofa after
scrubbing the apartment from top to bottom, his laundry machines rumbling comfortingly in the
background, furniture gleaming. Tae’s socked feet still intertwined with Jungkook’s calves. Their
chests rose and fell in tandem as they breathed. Jungkook’s arm still lay perfectly curved around
Tae’s waist.

Taehyung still felt infinitely comfortable, pressed against this boy.

They had turned a movie on but rapidly ignored it in favor of staring at each other. Jungkook traced
patterns over Tae’s wrist with a gentle finger, and Tae didn’t realize for several minutes that he was
tracing the words written there.

“Was it awful? Growing up with it?” whispered Jungkook.

“It was more like…” Tae hesitated. “Self-fulfilling prophecy. I kept wondering, if the words
weren’t there, would kids still have called me a freak? Or did I become odd because the mark
proclaimed I was?”

“You aren’t odd.”

Shrugging a little, Taehyung sighed, nuzzled his cheek against the warm chest beneath him for
comfort. “I mean, I think I am. A little. I talk to myself a lot, about random things that don’t make
sense to anyone. And I have these bursts of energy followed by laying around like a sloth. And I
loved art, that always seemed to make me weird.”

“They were weird,” said Kook petulantly.

“Maybe. Somewhere between college and med school I realized I liked myself just fine, and
people who took one look at my mark and judged me for it didn’t deserve to know me in the first
place.”

Awed at his strength, Jungkook blinked. “That’s really fucking admirable, Tae.” He pressed his
lips to Tae’s hair and left them there. “I wish I’d had half your strength back in high school. Maybe
I wouldn’t have fucked it all up.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We’ve been over it, ad nauseam.”

“I know. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder, though. What I made us miss, all these years. And I
really, really wish you could have been there when my parents died,” he admitted shakily.

Taehyung propped his chin on his chest, looking into his soulmate’s eyes. They were so sad.

“What were they like? Your parents.”

The answering grin was a tiny thing, but not to Taehyung.

“My mom had this laugh. It was so loud, especially for such a tiny thing like her. I’d come home
from school every day and immediately dump by backpack on the floor right inside the door and
every time she would scold me, then bust up laughing the moment I scowled at her.” Jungkook’s
grin spread, but his eyes were wet. “She used to tell me I was about as scary as a bunny rabbit. I
took it very personally.”

Taehyung leaned up to nuzzle his nose against his, knowing for himself just how accurate the
claim was.

“My dad was more serious, always very concerned with money. Guess he had to be, as the head of
a pharmaceutical company. He liked to have these intense conversations with me about my future
and careers and stuff. But he didn’t care when I said I liked to dance.” He shook his head, as if still
incredulous. “I thought he’d consider disowning me for sure. But all he said was, okay. He said
okay, and he helped me research how to make a living as a dancer without ending up in the streets.
Without the info he helped me dig up I probably never would have made it.”

“He sounds like an incredible man. An incredible parent. They both do.”

“Yeah.” His voice was so sad. “Yeah, they were.”

Taehyung gave it a moment, hurting for him. “Where did you go, after they died?”

“I had no other relatives. I was sixteen so everyone was talking to me about foster care or group
homes.” Jungkook shuddered. “My parents had named a godfather to me but he died a couple years
after I was born, guess my parents never named a replacement. I’m not sure what would have
happened to me if not for Yoongi hyung.”

“Yoongi? Jimin’s Yoongi hyung?”

“Yeah, our parents were friends while we were growing up. Neighbors. I wasn’t sure Yoongi liked
me all that much, actually.” His eyes dried as he laughed a little with the memories.

Taehyung couldn’t picture a younger Yoongi. He figured his hyung just sprouted up from the
ground like that, wrinkled and grumpy and wrapped in hoodies.

“I think he more tolerated me,” mused Jungkook. “We were both only children so I basically acted
like his annoying little dongsaeng and badgered him relentlessly. It took years until he let me call
him hyung.” Everything about him softened. “He told me to call him hyung the night my parents
died. The night his parents took me home from the hospital and in to their home for those two
years before I turned eighteen and moved away for college. The same day I messed everything up
with you, for what I thought was forever.”

Picturing the gangly kid with too-long limbs and too-long hair, perched alone in a hospital waiting
room as his entire world fell apart, made Taehyung want to cry.

“I’m sorry I couldn't be there for you,” murmured Taehyung, kissing his chest. He snuggled in
closer when Jungkook’s arms tightened around him.

“I made sure you couldn’t be,” said Jungkook, rueful. “Though I gotta admit, that would have been
a truly shitty ending to a first date.”

Morbid as it was, Taehyung shook his head indulgently. “Better or worse than you ending up in my
ER with life-threatening injuries?”

“Okay, I’m putting a caveat on our first date.”

“I keep hearing a lot about this supposed first date—”

Jungkook ignored Tae’s muffled voice and kept his palm over his mouth. “I say, no injuries, for
either of us. Definitely no death.”

Taehyung licked his palm, grinning when Jungkook feigned disgust. “Sounds reasonable. Though,
this definitely means I’m not cooking for us. I blew up a frying pan last time I tried.”

“Blew up…a frying pan…”

“Look, I followed the directions, okay? That pan was defective.”

Jungkook looked to be two seconds away from dying of laughter, face scrunched as he fought
against the urge.

“Don’t you dare,” whined Taehyung, sitting up to straddle his hips, leaning away. He smacked
Jungkook’s chest lightly when the younger boy shuddered a bit, laughter eking through. “Don’t
you dare laugh at me, okay, I’m a surgeon, I can follow instructions and I followed the instructions
perfectly, it’s not my fault the pan was already messed up and got a hole in it—”

“You burned a hole in a frying pan?” he choked.

“That cast iron was defective,” hissed Taehyung, and Jungkook lost it.

When his roars of laughter were so exuberant that Taehyung lost his balance on the shaking boy
and fell to the carpet, he let his head fall back with a thunk, and sighed.

But he was grinning as he watched Jungkook clutch his belly in pain from the hilarity.

Days passed, as they were wont to do. His hand healed. He pushed the trickiest of his procedures
back, filled his days with simple sutures and teaching and rounding until the purple discoloration
faded and the landed punch was nothing more than a silly memory.

The morning after that day off spent in his apartment, Taehyung went to work with a smile on his
face. And he found that the smile never really faded.

Some days there were baskets of fresh muffins sitting at the nurse’s station awaiting him between
surgeries. Sometimes it was trays of cut fruit. Once it was an assortment of chocolates that had all
the nurses melting and demanding Taehyung marry Jungkook before they did. Once, it was
Jungkook himself, standing there with his shy bunny grin, holding out a fresh coffee prepared
exactly the way Taehyung preferred.

Tae thought his heart hadn’t been the same since that afternoon.
He wasn’t used to being thought of. He wasn’t used to someone spending their time and energy on
him. Sometimes he shied away from it, left text messages unanswered, kept interactions brief with
an emotionless peck on the cheek for a farewell as he struggled to accept the affection.

Jungkook never cornered him for it, never made demands or got angry.

Tae only saw him angry once, when Tae scrubbed in on three back-to-back operations and forgot
to take a minute to sip some water. He’d gotten lightheaded and had to be half-carried out of the
OR to rest, only to run into Jungkook heading towards the surgical wing bearing strawberry
smoothies.

The smoothies ended up on the floor when Jungkook rushed forward. He looked so angry that for a
second, a split second, Taehyung braced himself, not knowing what his soulmate what do. But
Jungkook merely hauled him up in his own arms, carrying him bridal style to the staff lounge and
completely uncaring of Tae’s gawping coworkers.

Jungkook hadn’t left his side for hours, as Tae rehydrated and replenished his beleaguered body
before succumbing to a fretful exhausted nap on the ratty couch, his head in Kook’s lap. Jungkook
merely sat there and played with his hair, for hours, long into the night.

When Tae woke up, blinking sleepily up at him, Jungkook looked down and said, eyes narrowed,
“I’m taking you on that date tomorrow night.”

Tae simply blinked again and said, “Okay.” Mentally, he thought, about time.

From: jungkook
I realize now that telling you we’re going on a date, rather than asking, may not be a desirable
soulmate trait
thoughts?

The morning following his near-faint and Jungkook’s proclamation, Taehyung, feet up on the
counter as he flipped through charts, nibbled on the end of his pen and grinned at the text.

To: jungkook
if we were looking for manners, I’d say that ship has sailed
for the both of us

From: jungkook
as long as we’re on the same page

To: jungkook
so where are you taking me tonight?
some place ridiculously cheesy and romcom worthy?
From: jungkook
you know it
(please, like I’d actually ruin the surprise)

To: jungkook
you know me too well
(damn it)

From: jungkook
its been a couple months now
thank god I learned something
otherwise I’d be a complete waste of space

To: jungkook
your mind works in fascinating ways, bun

From: jungkook
I’m not the one mumbling about ripple stitches in my sleep

To: jungkook
WHIPPLE, bun
whipple stitch
we’ve been over this

From: jungkook
whatever
you’re the doc not me
its mad sexy btw

To: jungkook
what have I told you about talking kinks at work
not gonna happen bun
some of us need to be adults

From: jungkook
taeeeeeeeee how dare you
I’m the most adultest adult ever

To: jungkook
I don’t even know what to do with that

From: jungkook
ha I win

To: jungkook
that’s not what I remember happening

From: jungkook
scroll up babe

To: jungkook
it was literally 2 SECONDS AGO THERES NOTHING TO SCROLL TO

From: jungkook
what was that?
I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning

To: jungkook
you diDNT HEAR ANYTHING CUZ WE’RE READING OMFg

From: jungkook
details

To: jungkook
except nOT REALLY CAUSE ITS PRETTY DAMN PERTINENT

From: jungkook
you’re pertinent
To: jungkook
I feel like we’ve gotten off track

From: jungkook
yep but its fun
you smiling?

To: jungkook
…yes

From: jungkook
then we’re def on track
pick you up at 8?

To: jungkook
I want you to know that im shaking my head at you right now
but
yes

From: jungkook
see you tonight babe

“Well that’s one hell of a smile,” said Jin with clear approval as he walked up to Tae.

Tae was too happy to even try to hide it. “I have a date tonight.”

“With Jungkook?”

“No, with Ki Hong Lee, but I’m settling for Jungkook.”

“Smart ass.” Jin whacked him with the clipboard he carried. “You’ve only got one more surgery
today right? I booked you pretty easy the next few days after what happened yesterday.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, hyung, I just genuinely forgot to sit and take a rest. I don’t pay
attention to my own body when I’m working.”

“You’re lucky you have people looking out for you then,” retorted Jin, who then grinned smugly
down at Taehyung’s phone, still open to his conversation. “Not to mention one hell of a soulmate.”

“Oh, get out of here already,” said Tae, laughing as he shoved at his hyung. “You’re making me
more nervous.”

An unfamiliar nurse rushed up to the desk, files clutched to her chest, panting as if she’d sprinted
the length of the hospital to reach the surgical wing.

“Doctor Kim Taehyung,” she greeted formerly, out of breath and bowing unsteadily. Her cheeks
bloomed pink and she couldn’t look Tae in the eyes. “Doctor Pan requests your help in the ER, sir,
it’s urgent.”

“I wasn’t paged.” Tae double-checked his phone.

“No, sir, sorry, sir, it was supposed to be a routine echocardiogram on an older woman with
valvular insufficiency but Doctor Pan thinks the patient threw a clot, sir, the woman seems
paralyzed from the waist down. Doctor Pan is requesting your assistance.”

A small part of Tae wanted to tell Doctor Pan to shove it. But he was a doctor, first and foremost,
before he was a person with personal vendettas.

Taehyung stood up. “Lead the way, Nurse…?”

“Irene, sir.” The girl’s eyes went wide as if she hadn’t expected him to ask.

“Okay. Lead on.” Tae glanced at Jin. “Let my hysterectomy patient know that we’ll be delayed a
bit. I’ll text you when to load her up.”

Jin saluted ironically, but his eyes were worried as he watched Tae and the other nurse jog off. He
had a strange feeling.

Taehyung should have borrowed Jin hyung’s sixth sense.

The entire evening was a loss.

By the time Taehyung arrived at the pit, the exam room was chaos. Pan stood at the head of the
bed barking a million different things at a million different personnel members, while the middle-
aged woman in the bed screamed in agony.

Taehyung fought his way through and held up his hands. The nurses and interns present fell silent
immediately, like a switch had been flipped. Pan was left shouting orders into a void that ignored
her.

The woman in the bed cried as Taehyung put his hands on her legs.
“I can’t feel…I can’t feel…”

The limbs beneath his touch were cold, with no femoral pulses, zero sensation.

The sizeable clot had already lodged in her spinal cord.

They went to surgery.

Taehyung extracted the clot rapidly, but not fast enough. He hadn’t gotten to her fast enough.

The woman woke up paralyzed forever from the waist down. She had five kids under the age of
fourteen, two dogs, a loving husband and a third-floor walk-up in uptown Seoul. She worked in a
florist’s shop and made bouquet deliveries to supplement her husband’s income.

She would never deliver flowers again.

-

Taehyung left the patient’s room, left the grieving family behind. Pan followed him out.

“Thanks for your assistance, Doctor,” came her voice from behind. Tae paused, but didn’t face her.
“Though perhaps if you had gone with the perpendicular approach rather than oblique, you could
have prevented the paralysis—”

“And perhaps if you had paged me prior to sedating a patient previously diagnosed with a protein S
deficiency that predisposes her to throwing clots, without taking precautions,” interrupted
Taehyung. He didn’t recognize his own voice. He didn’t recognize the ice in that voice. “Perhaps
if you hadn’t been trying to showboat and handle everything yourself instead of bringing your
colleagues in on a difficult and fraught case. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. You can perhaps yourself
to death, Doctor Pan. But our patient is still paralyzed.”

He went into the doctor’s lounge, shut and locked the door. His phone read 7:51pm, and he sighed,
hating himself.

To: jungkook
I’m so sorry

From: jungkook
are you okay??

To: jungkook
I have to reschedule our date, I’m so sorry
I’m such an ass
I’m sorry

From: jungkook
taehyung
stop
I understand, okay?
truly I do
now answer me? please? are you okay?

Tae froze, stared at the screen. His fingers shook as he typed the reply.

To: jungkook
no

The phone rang an instant later.

“Hello?”

“Taehyung? Want to talk about it?”

The laugh sounded wet and choked. “No,” admitted Tae. “No, because I don’t want to cry. I’m
tired of crying.”

“Okay.” Jungkook seemed to think for a minute. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I
cried today?”

Tae sniffed, taken aback. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah. Broke down and sobbed like a baby in the middle of the mall.”

“Um.” Tae blinked, sniffed again. He wiped his eyes until they dried again. “Why?”

“I dropped my ice cream cone.”

Taehyung snorted. His chuckle was weak, but it was there. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I am not!” said Jungkook with clear affront, though his own voice sounded on the verge of
laughter. “I tell you, it was traumatizing. It was one of those vanilla cones dipped in dark chocolate,
mad expensive. Some little kid came up and tripped me. Asshole.”

“Poor bun, getting bullied by children.” Tae toed his shoes off and sank into the couch. “Need me
to protect you?”

“Yes,” he said instantly. “That’s exactly where I was going with that.”

“Sure. So, just to be clear, you’re equating your ice cream falling on the ground with the fact that
my power struggle with a colleague possibly resulted in a woman being paralyzed from the waist
down?”

For a beat, there was silence. Tae wanted to smack himself. Couldn’t just enjoy a good thing, could
you? he raged at himself.

“I’m sorry to hear that happened, Taehyung,” said Jungkook, soft and sad.

Tae sighed. “Me too. My job is such shit sometimes.”

“Hey, Tae?” ventured Jungkook softly after a minute of companionable silence.

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

Taehyung thought. But he fast realized he didn’t need a second to think. “Yes. Yeah, I do.”

“Okay. Are you heading home soon?”

Tae glanced up at the clock. “I just have to wrap up some paperwork. So I’ll be here another half
hour or so, why?”

“No reason. Get home safe, okay? And seriously don’t worry about our date, Tae. I’m not going
anywhere, remember?”
“Yeah. Yeah, bun, I remember. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

Taehyung hung up, but sat there staring at his phone in total silence for ten minutes before
dragging his ass to the computer.

Taehyung nearly fell asleep standing up in the elevator of his building. It wouldn’t be the first time,
which was just sad. A ding chimed, alerting him to the doors opening onto his floor. He trudged
forward, bag dragging at his shoulder. His hand trembled as plugged in his keycode and pushed the
door open.

He took a few steps inside then paused, dazed.

Candles clustered together on every available surface, casting a warm, shimmering glow. Vases of
tulips in every possible color sat beside them. The room was spotless. He was sure he had left a
jacket over the back of the couch, that his gaming systems and controllers had been scattered over
the rug, that a pile of clean scrubs fresh from the dryer that he’d been meaning to fold and put away
for days had been sitting in the armchair. But everything was picked up and put away. The kitchen
counters gleamed, the dishwasher humming in the background of soft instrumental music piping in
from the overhead speakers. The place hadn’t looked this clean since—

Since Jungkook had last stormed his apartment and helped him clean.

Jungkook stepped out from the kitchen, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel. He smiled warmly
when he saw Taehyung, but his expression was sheepish.

“Hi,” he greeted the stunned Taehyung. “I got your passcode from Jimin hyung, and I’ve got
barbecue warming in the oven, and a bottle of your favorite wine chilling on the counter. Please
don’t hate me, if you don’t want me here I’ll totally leave.”

Tae felt tears rising to the surface and rubbed his hands over his face. “W-what is this?”

“You had a rough day. And I don’t care that we didn’t get our date but I still wanted to see you,
maybe help you feel better. Is it okay?”

Choking on a laugh, Tae stood there and raised his arms, made grabby hands towards the other
boy. Jungkook immediately rushed forward and swept him into a tight hug, arms wrapping warmly
around his back as Tae buried his face in his neck. Kook swayed them gently back and forth, Tae
struggling with the emotion of it all.

No one had ever done something like this for him. Jimin and Yoongi were always there, and Jin
and Namjoon as well, but Taehyung wasn’t used to being taken care of.

Taehyung drew back, sniffled a little. He cupped Jungkook’s face and whispered, “Thank you.
Thank you so much.”

Kook kissed his thumb. “Of course, baby. I wanted to.”

With a hum of contentment, Taehyung leaned in and kissed him. No matter how many times they
had kissed before, it always felt new, exciting. Warmth spread, making Tae clutch at him harder,
lifting up on his toes to push more strongly against Kook.
Jungkook hesitated, drew back. “Tae, we don’t—”

“Please,” pleaded Tae. “Kiss me?”

Groaning against his lips, Kook spun them a bit and slowly pressed Taehyung against the back of
the couch, pinning him there as his lips devoured Tae’s, tongue sneaking in to twine with his.
Triumphant, Taehyung slipped his hands beneath the other boy’s t-shirt, nearly purring as his
fingers traced warm skin, the divots around his pecs and abdomen, the V leading into the
waistband of his jeans.

Kook shivered and drew back again. “Taehyung—”

“I want you.” Taehyung leaned in to nip at his ear. He felt invigorated, alive, warmth cascading
through his veins as this beautiful boy stared at him. His soulmate. “It’s okay. Kookie, please.”

Jungkook groaned desperately, kissing Taehyung with renewed fervor. They began slowly circling
towards the bedroom, navigating through the maze of flowers and candles. Tae shoved him back a
step, playfully walking backwards and pulling off his scrub top, watching the way Jungkook’s eyes
darkened as he watched Tae remove his pants then his boxers, entirely bare as he stood by the bed.

Jungkook began unbuttoning his shirt, watching as Taehyung reclined back on the bed, tugging
carelessly at his half-hard cock, watching as Jungkook slowly removed his shirt.

“If you regret this later, if you hate the timing of it,” drawled Jungkook as he watched Taehyung
stroke himself. “I’ll hate myself forever.”

Tae smirked. “Guess you’ll have to take the risk.” He sobered when Jungkook didn’t come to him.
“Jungkook. I want you. I want this. Get your ass over here before I get myself off and leave you
there.”

Jungkook shivered, and purposely left his jeans on as he crawled on top of Taehyung, knocking his
hand aside to clasp his hands and pin them to the bed beside his head.

Taehyung shivered, lying there helplessly, trapped, as Jungkook kissed him hard, tongue delving
deep. He mewled, straining against the grip on his hands, aching to touch. He kicked up his hips,
grinding his hardened cock against the answering bulge in Kook’s jeans.

“Ah, ah,” breathed Jungkook, shifting to nuzzle and nip at Taehyung’s throat. He spread his knees
to either side of Tae’s hips and squeezed, pinning his hips down, fully caging the boy beneath him.
“None of that.”

“Kook—” pleaded Tae, writhing.

“This is about you. Tonight, this time, it's about you,” Jungkook murmured against his throat,
sensuously trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck, nipping at the junction between shoulder
and neck, kissing down to the beautifully narrow collarbones. He sucked a hickey onto the line of
bone, enjoying the way Tae’s breath hitched in his throat and his renewed struggle against
Jungkook’s grip on his hands.

“It wasn’t exactly how I planned on taking care of you tonight,” drawled Jungkook, sucking a line
of hickeys across his collarbones. “But I guess I can be flexible.”

“You better be,” breathed Taehyung, smirking again until Jungkook nipped him again, a little
harder.
Jungkook danced kisses across his chest until he reached the opposite shoulder, trailing back up the
other side of his neck until he finally reached his lips again. Then he suddenly dropped his hips
hard on top of Tae’s, rolling them smoothly. Tae threw his head back against the covers and
groaned.

“Oh my god. Jungkook,” gasped Tae, eyes watering, as Jungkook continued to roll his hips.
“Please. Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

Tae jerked his hands but Kook’s grip didn’t budge. “More. Please? Please, Kookie.”

“Such beautiful begging,” he murmured, releasing one of Tae’s hand to trail it down his neck,
down his chest, playing with the hardened point of his nipple. Tae’s breath caught and his freed
hand flew to Jungkook’s hair, fisting the strands as Kook bent to suckle.
Jungkook finally released Tae’s other hand, kneeling over Tae now to slide his hands down his
chest, thumbs resting in the junction between hip and thigh as if they belonged there. He continued
to kiss and suckle at his nipple, leaning back to blow a cool breath across it before switching his
attention to the other.

Taehyung clawed at his back, trying to egg him on. The pace was slow, tortuously slow. He wanted
Jungkook’s hands on him, fingers in him, stretching him open. But Jungkook continued to play,
seemed content with winding Taehyung up to full desperation.

Attempting to roll them, Tae jerked his body, but Jungkook only chuckled.

“Jungkook,” growled Tae, wiggling fiercely beneath him. “Come on.”

Kook only laughed again. Then he rapidly slid down Tae’s body and suddenly took his cock in his
mouth in one smooth motion.

Taehyung gasped in desperate surprise, Kook’s hands pinning his hips to the bed, forced to lie
there and take it, as Jungkook swallowed him to the base. He writhed, cock pulsing in the hot wet
suction as Jungkook hallowed his cheeks and slowly bobbed up and down.

Jungkook released him with a pop, nipped at his hip while looking up into his eyes. “Lube, babe?”

Taehyung shivered, stretching to reach his nightstand drawer, nearly dropping the small bottle as
Jungkook licked the length of his cock. He all but threw it towards the end of the bed and collapsed
flat again, hands flying to wind into Jungkook’s midnight hair.

“Jungkook,” panted Taehyung, pressure coiling low in his belly. “God. I can’t, I can’t—”

“Shh.” Jungkook stroked his thighs soothingly before uncapping the bottle and generously
covering his fingers. He sat up, kneeling between Tae’s outstretched legs, watching Tae closely as
the boy panted beneath him, hands fisting in his own hair as Kook traced one finger around his
rim.

“What do you want, Tae?” he murmured, watching him with intensity that made Taehyung blush.

Taehyung could only pant and stare at him, shivering as the tip of one finger breached him.

“Tell me, babe,” requested Jungkook, bending down to kiss him.

Taehyung mewled into the kiss. “You. I want you. Your fingers, stretch me open, please.”
Groaning against his sweat-slicked skin, Jungkook obeyed, sliding a finger into him, glide eased by
the lube. “God, you’re perfect. So fucking tight.”

“Jungkook,” he groaned in delirious response.

Jungkook straightened again, studying Tae’s face as he slowly thrusted in and out, his other hand
trailing up to stroke his cock at the same time. Tae could do nothing but lie there, the muscles in
his legs twitching as Kook soon added another finger.

“So beautiful,” whispered Jungkook, looking at the way Tae’s silvery hair fell into his eyes when
he shivered, his wide and watery eyes, the way he bit his lip in response to Jungkook adding a third
finger. He took his time opening Tae up, ignored the way his own cock throbbed in the confines of
his jeans, near painful against the zipper, in favor of making Tae feel good.

When Taehyung had become a babbling, sweating mess beneath him, Jungkook leaned down and
pressed a final kiss to the head of his cock before removing his fingers, wiping them carelessly on
the sheet.

Taehyung suddenly sat up beneath him, seizing his face to kiss him desperately. “You feel so
good,” he whined, nipping harshly at Kook’s throat, making him growl a curse. “I need you. Now.
Please? Baby, please, fuck me.”

“God damn it.” Jungkook kissed him desperately as Taehyung wrestled with his jeans, shoving
them down to free Jungkook’s achingly hard cock, stroking him as Kook nipped at his bottom lip.
“Condom, babe?”

Tae whined but obeyed, grabbing one, but ripping it free and rolling it on himself. Jungkook’s eyes
threatened to roll to the back of his head as Tae took a teasingly long time to wrap it then lube him
up, long fingers sinful on Kook’s length.

Finally Jungkook pushed his hands away, pressing Taehyung flat into the bed with a kiss. “You
ready?”

Taehyung was already pulling at his hips. “Yes, Jungkook, damn it. Come on, babe, please.”

Reaching down, Jungkook guided his cock to Tae’s entrance and slid in, near choking at the tight
heat. Jungkook buried his face in Tae’s neck, pausing halfway sheathed, shivering as Tae scratched
at his back.

“All the way, please,” pleaded Tae. “God, I want to feel you.”

Helpless to obey, Jungkook pushed forward, sliding home until his thighs met Taehyung’s ass. He
stilled his hips, waiting until Tae adjusted.

Jungkook’s heart shook in his chest as Tae seized his face in his hands, dancing kisses over his
face, his cheeks, his temple, his nose, finally his lips.

“Shit, you feel so good,” murmured Jungkook between kisses.

“Move, please,” he begged. “Need it, need you.”

Cursing, Jungkook pushed up on his elbows, rolling his hips back and thrusting forward in one
smooth motion, groaning at the way Taehyung took him so perfectly.

“Yes. Yes,” chanted Taehyung. “More, faster, please.”

Jungkook obeyed, thrusting quickly now, adjusting his hips minutely until Taehyung let out a
desperate gasp and choked on a moan.

“There? Does that feel good, baby?” Jungkook whispered the words, nibbling at his throat as he
thrusted harder, cock slamming into his prostate.

“Oh my god, yes. Fuck yes, fuck me.”

“I got you, I got you, baby. God, you’re so good.” Taehyung whined beneath him and Jungkook
thrust with renewed vigor. “Shit, yeah, you like that. Like being good.”

“Thought that was just your thing, but fuck. Fuck you’re hot,” babbled Taehyung, lost in the heat,
mind hazy with pleasure as Jungkook took him apart from the inside out.

Taehyung moaned loud as Jungkook reached down to stroke his cock, jerking him off in time with
his rapid thrusts.

“Want you to come, come so good for me,” murmured Jungkook, nipping at the piercing in his ear.
The room was full of the slapping of skin against skin, their moans and curses echoing in the air
fragranced by candles and flowers.

“Little more, just a little more,” babbled Tae, tensing now, heat filling his belly, body on edge and
wanting to fall.

Jungkook released his cock, making him whine, sitting up and leaning back on his knees. He put
his hands on Tae’s hips, used the grip to slam Tae’s hips down as he thrust forward hard, nailing
his prostate again with deadly accuracy. Taehyung choked on a whine, head thrown back against
the covers, revealing the long line of his neck shiny with healthy sweat.

“That’s it. Take me, Tae,” murmured Jungkook, fucking him hard. “Touch yourself, baby, come
for me, come hard.”

Whining again, Tae reached down, shivering as Jungkook watched him with narrowed eyes despite
the frantic pace, watching the way Tae fisted his own cock and jerked, hard. It only took a couple
strokes before Taehyung was coming, inner muscles clenching down on Kook’s length as his cock
erupted, soaking his own belly.

Jungkook groaned at the sight, hands tight on Tae’s hips in a bruising grip as he watched his
soulmate fall to pieces beneath him. Tae rolled his head weakly on his neck to peer up at him
through sex-hazed eyes, biting his lip before whispering, “Jungkook. Come, Kookie, want to feel
you.”

Helpless, Jungkook leaned down, buried his face in Tae’s neck, and came, hard, filling the condom
as he weakly thrusted once, twice, a third time, until Tae whined, oversensitive.

Jungkook collapsed on top of him, Tae’s arms clutching him hard around the waist, still shivering.
Rolling gently, Jungkook lay on his back, bringing Tae with him to curl against his side. He
pressed kisses to the top of his head and forehead, danced his lips over his closed eyes and covered
his panting mouth in a final kiss before relaxing into the pillow.

It tugged at Jungkook’s heart when he pulled away from Tae’s desperate grasp, reassuring him
instantly when Tae shivered and whined at the loss. “I need to clean you up, hold on baby, I’ll be
right back.”

Jungkook ignored his trembling legs and rushed to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth in warm
water before hastening back to Taehyung. He cleaned him gently, apologizing softly as Taehyung
winced when he stroked between his legs, between his cheeks, then traced the cloth along his
chest. When Tae was clean he threw the cloth aside carelessly and bundled him close again.

“You okay?” murmured Jungkook against the top of his head.

“So good,” Tae whispered drowsily back.

Taehyung had never felt so sated. The one-night stands he had indulged in over the years had
ranged from boring to enthusiastic but had never been so intense. He felt like Jungkook had
thoroughly taken him apart, putting him back together with careful precision. No one had ever
taken the time or put in the effort to study his reactions in bed, to tailor his actions to what
Taehyung wanted, what he needed.

He didn’t know what to do, except to cling to Jungkook, kiss his chest again and again.

Drowsiness seeped in to the edges of his mind. He tried desperately to stay awake, to absorb the
sensation of damp skin on skin, the warmth of his soulmate at his side.

But exhaustion swept him up hard and pulled him to sleep.

Taehyung drifted awake gently, lingering in a lovely half-doze, skin tingling as he felt fingers
tracing lazy designs on the bare skin of his back. His hand was clasped in another’s, held firm
against a broad, warm chest. Lips rested against his hairline, his head nestled on a firm shoulder.

It took him a moment to realize Jungkook was humming under his breath, a quiet melody that
Taehyung didn’t recognize, the sound rumbling in the chest beneath his ear. His voice was
beautiful and serene, threatening to send Taehyung back to sleep.

But he wanted to see.

He sniffed a little and tiredly blinked open his eyes, seeing first their intertwined hands resting on
Jungkook’s chest. He leaned his head back, and suddenly Jungkook was there, his face so close,
eyes wandering over Tae’s face as if searching for something.

“Hi,” whispered Tae hoarsely, nuzzling his cheek against his chest.

Jungkook hummed low in his throat, kissing his forehead. “Hi, baby,” he murmured. “Did you
sleep okay?”

“Mmm. How long was I out?”

“Only a couple hours. You can sleep more, if you want.”

Taehyung didn’t want to sleep any more. He wanted to be with Jungkook. So he stretched and
eased his body over until he lay sprawled fully on Jungkook’s chest, crossing his arms and resting
his chin atop them to study the younger boy.

“Is this what you had in mind when you broke into my apartment?”

Jungkook tugged a piece of his hair. “Of course not.” He sniffed when Tae giggled a little. “I
wanted to feed you a good meal and pamper the hell out of you, actually.”

“Mission accomplished. Never would have thought we both had a praise kink,” Tae remarked
casually.

Jungkook choked on air. “Wh-what?”

Tae blinked innocently. “Well we know you have one. Your couch remembers it fondly.” He
grinned when Jungkook pinched his ass. “And I sure as hell have one, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“I could tell,” said Jungkook dryly. “We were each taking care of the other person, at the time.
That may be why.”

“I like that about us,” decided Taehyung, nuzzling into him again.

They both smiled, Jungkook tracing the shape of his mouth with a gentle fingertip. Tae kissed it.

“Was it…” Jungkook hesitated. “Was it okay?”

Tae blinked. How could Jungkook doubt himself?

“Kook, it was great. You were great.” Tae blushed, hid his face against his chest. “I thought it was,
at least.”

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he murmured, waiting until Tae lifted his head. “Tae, being with you was
everything I wanted. I just hope you liked it, too.”

“Everything,” agreed Tae, shimmying up to kiss him. “It was everything, Jungkook.”

They kissed for several long minutes, lips moving in lazy waves against each other. They kissed to
soothe, to reassure, to comfort, to calm. They kissed for everything. Jungkook broke the kiss only
to grip Tae’s right wrist, bring it to his lips to trail his lips over the blue cursive. Taehyung gasped
shakily.

“I’m glad they’re blue,” whispered Tae, referring to the words. Back off, freak.

Everything about Jungkook saddened. “They should be different words.”

Taehyung shifted to straddle him, framed his face in his hands. “Jungkook.” He waited until his
soulmate looked at him. “You’ve given me so many other words. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Pretty.’ ‘I chased
after you.’ ‘Sorry.’”

Tae kissed him again, lips warm. “You’ve given me everything,” he murmured against Jungkook’s
lips. “It’s okay.” He drew back, looked into his eyes.

“They’re just words, bun.”

 Chapter 12
Chapter Notes

aaaand here we have it, the last chapter !

yes, my update schedule is totally not a schedule...i tend to have multiple WIPs going
on at the same time, its how i defeat writer's block, by shifting gears and bouncing
from story to story, it works for me. so i post chapters as soon as i finish them to avoid
confusing myself.

anywho, here we are ! final chapter ! thank you all for hanging with me throughout
this story. your kind words and comments all mean the absolute world to me, i do my
best to respond but i know i miss some so just know that i truly appreciate it !!

writing about these boys is my catharsis, my stress relief. i'm just so happy that people
enjoy my little stories.

got another WIP starting up soon so stay tuned if interested ! one word - wolves

;)

love you all !!

“They’re just words, bun.”

An echoing silence fell. Taehyung tensed, scared he had said something wrong.

Jungkook was staring at him, shocked and wide-eyed. He didn’t say anything.

Taehyung fidgeted a little. He cleared his throat, made to shift back, get out of Jungkook’s lap, but
the next thing he knew, Jungkook gathered him close and held him hard.

Tae was surprised to feel the boy’s body trembling, near shaking against his, and he hummed to
him and ran his hands down his back in a slow caress. Jungkook kissed him again, then again, and
again.

The heat threatened to rise, to engulf them again, but they were interrupted by Taehyung’s stomach
rumbling. Jungkook immediately broke the kiss despite Tae’s whine of complaint, arching a brow
at him. “When was the last time you ate something?”

Tae opened his mouth but Kook added, “Something that wasn’t a nasty protein bar or candy.”

Tae shut his mouth, stumped. “What day is it?”

Jungkook immediately dislodged Tae and went to the edge of the bed, reaching back to scoop him
into his arms. “We’re going to shower then I’m going to feed you a meal that didn’t come from a
vending machine. Probably not our barbecue, that’s probably out there souring in your kitchen but
I’m going to buy you more takeout since there’s nothing here for me to cook for you, as in healthy
takeout, an actual meal, and you’re just going to have to sit there and eat it,” he lectured as he
carried an awed Tae into the expansive bathroom.

He set him down on the black marble floor to turn the shower on, Tae shivering at the chill,
crossing his arms over himself. He shouldn’t feel shy, not after Jungkook had all but turned him
inside out, but he did.

But Jungkook merely nudged him into the shower stall once the water had heated, getting in behind
him. The multiple shower heads showered them in hot water, Tae groaning in relief as the knots in
his muscles loosened. It felt even better once Jungkook maneuvered him into the thickest spray,
standing behind him to knead and rub at the muscles of his shoulders and neck and back.

Taehyung let his head fall forward, standing there like a complacent doll as Jungkook washed his
hair then massaged his expensive exfoliating body wash into his skin, until there wasn’t an inch of
Taehyung that didn’t feel wonderfully pampered and loved.

Loved? Tae blinked, tensing.

Jungkook, kneading the small of Tae’s back, immediately lightened his grip. “Sorry, did I hurt
you?”

“No, no.” Tae swallowed, fought to relax again. “Just a knot there, I think.”

Humming agreeably, Jungkook eased up on the pressure, continued stroking his skin, working out
the kinks.

While Taehyung mentally panicked.

When Jungkook finished, when Taehyung was a puddle of mush beneath his hands, the younger
boy turned Tae to face him. His expression grew concerned as he brushed his wet hair out of his
eyes.

“Are you okay? You’re so pale.”

Taehyung’s breath came faster, shorter. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

Jungkook moved fast. The water was turned off, Tae bundled into a huge warm towel before he
could blink, then picked up and carried into the bedroom to be sat on the edge of the bed.
Jungkook knelt in front of him, clutching his hands, eyes intent on his.
“Want to talk about it?”

“I think I’m in love with you and I realized it all at once and I’m kind of freaking out,” said
Taehyung, rapid fast, too busy struggling to breathe to care about filtering his words. Let Jungkook
deal with them for a change, because his mind couldn’t handle it right then.

“Okay. You’re okay, baby,” murmured Jungkook, pressing kisses to his knuckles. “Deep breaths,
okay?”

“Can’t,” wheezed Taehyung.

“Yes, yes, you can. Because you’re Taehyung and you kick ass, you can handle some deep breaths.
You know you intimidate the hell out of me? Like, on a molecular level, I’m genuinely in awe of
how freaking strong you are. You can take a deep breath. With me, ready? Inhale.” Jungkook
breathed with him, watched with overwhelming relief how some color eked into his pale face.
“Good, and exhale. Again, okay? Again for me, you’re doing so good.”
When Taehyung’s breath returned to normal, when he let out a stuttered sigh of relief and bundled
his knees to his chest, hugging them, Jungkook continued to pet his hair, kiss his temples.

“It’s okay, Tae,” he whispered, again and again. He waited until Tae looked up at him. “It’s okay
because I love you, too.”

Taehyung gaped at him, before shutting his mouth, tears seeping into his eyes.

“I didn’t want to say it back right away because I didn’t want you to think I was just saying it to
calm you down, make you feel better,” he continued carefully.

Huh. Jungkook knew him pretty damn well, Tae realized.

“But I love you, Tae. I’m pretty sure I fell headfirst the moment I saw you, all busted up in that
hospital bed. You were the anchor for me, and have continued to be. You’re always there for me.
All I want is to be there for you, too. I don’t know if I love you because you’re my soulmate but I
do love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung choked on the words, on his tears, before Jungkook was standing and
hauling Tae to his feet, bundling him close and kissing him, softly, so gently.

There was so much emotion in that kiss. Jungkook cupped his face in his hands, danced kisses over
his cheeks, down his jaw, back up to his temples and forehead, smothering him in kisses, in love.
Taehyung giggled a little when he kissed Tae’s closed eyes, lips tickling his eyelashes. When
Taehyung opened his eyes, Jungkook’s were right there, soft and intense on his as he nuzzled their
noses together.

The moment was broken, again, by a loud rumble from Taehyung’s tummy. He hugged his arms
around himself and grinned sheepishly when Jungkook chuckled.

“Come on,” Jungkook urged, pulling him by the hand. “You need to eat.”

They had to toss the barbecue, as predicted. But Tae didn’t care. They ordered fried chicken, far
too much of it, and Jungkook tortured Tae by insisting he eat the monstrously oversized salad
before letting him touch any chicken, even while Kook chowed down. Tae tried to glare, mouth
full of dry lettuce as his supposed soulmate gnawed on drumsticks, but he ended up smiling
instead.

It was funny, how life changed.

Later, when they lay in bed, shirtless and sprawled out and satisfied, Jungkook hugged him close.
“Taehyung?” he ventured.

Tae gave a sleepy hum.

“Why are all the walls in here bare?” he asked. It had been something he had noticed ages ago
about Taehyung’s apartment. It was tastefully decorated, all of it, but impersonal. There were no
pictures, not even of Jimin. Not even any art.

Even as Tae tensed a little, Jungkook wanted to smack himself.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s the lack of art, right?” responded Taehyung. He didn’t sound angry, only thoughtful. “I know,
it weirds everyone out. I never really noticed, until recently.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“This is what couples do, right?” Tae rolled, sprawled out on top of Jungkook’s warm chest to peer
up at him. “Share.”

“I was just wondering, I guess. About you and…your art.”

Tae squinted at him. “It’s not a bad word, bun. Yeah, growing up I only ever wanted to be an artist.
I loved to paint and sketch. Spray paints, actually. I don’t know, there was something about laying
it all out on a blank paper that let my head clear. Helped me ignore all the assholes too.” Tae
played with Jungkook’s fingers, studied the way they intertwined so prettily. “But I realized,
halfway through college, that it was draining me, bit by bit. Exhausted me, mentally, emotionally.
It wasn’t catharsis anymore. It wasn’t helping me. So I had to stop, to protect myself. And when I
branched out, decided to explore other classes, other subjects, I found biology. I thought of cells
like my favorite paintings, picking them apart to see how the pieces made the whole.”

Jungkook cocked his head, smiling a bit as he stroked a hand through Tae’s hair. “I love the way
your brain works.”

“Ugh, stop.” But he smiled as he kissed Jungkook’s palm. “I don’t know. I fell in love with science
and I love being a doctor. I’ll always be happy I found it.”

“Do you ever draw anymore?”

“Sometimes. I keep supplies up in my cabin. I’ve got a sketchbook tucked away on my bookshelf
in the living room.”

Jungkook hesitated. “Maybe, um.”

“Kook?”

“Would you draw something for me? Sometime, maybe?” He sounded so shy.

Taehyung pictured curling up somewhere, on his couch or the porch swing at his cabin on the lake,
a blank sketchbook in his lap and his case of charcoals. He imagined taking a deep breath, pressing
the tip of the charcoal to paper. For the first time, his body didn’t seize up to imagine it. His
breathing didn’t accelerate, his palms didn’t sweat. His body didn’t threaten to shake apart at the
seams.

“Only if you choreograph a routine for me,” countered Taehyung, poking his chest. “To a lo-fi
song. From my favorite playlist.”

Jungkook whined. “Lo-fi doesn’t have the beat, Taehyung, the beat.”

“Lo-fi.” Tae scowled.

“Fine.”

“So easy,” said Tae smugly, kissing his chest.

Two weeks later on a quiet Friday night, Taehyung sat on the floor in front of the mirror of the
dance studio. He watched Jungkook, Jimin and Hoseok dance a routine that Kook choreographed
to one of Tae’s favorite tracks, Tae hugged his knees to his chest and fought against a wide, watery
grin.

The routine was perfect. Everything worked, from Jungkook’s sharper moves, to Jimin’s smoother
grace, to Hobi’s speed and precision, it all simply worked. Their coordination was exact, shifting
and moving from formation to formation in a seamless, beautiful performance.

They ended on a sharp pop, Jungkook in front, Jimin and Hobi aligned behind him. They held
position for a few extra seconds as Tae kicked his feet and clapped, squealing in excitement.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “That was so good, oh my god, oh my god. You guys are so freaking
awesome.”

Jungkook approached, breathing hard. His face gleamed with sweat and his hair clung damply to
his forehead. He reached down and grabbed Taehyung’s hips, hauled him up and clear off the
ground to kiss him hard.

Hobi whistled. “Hot damn.”

“And that’s our cue,” drawled Jimin, tugging a reluctant Hobi towards the door.

“Oh, come on,” whined Hoseok, dragging his feet. “Those two are so hot, I wanna watch.”

“Now is not the time to indulge your voyeuristic tendencies, Hobi.” Jimin dragged him out as he
continued to scold, the door slamming shut and automatically locking behind them.

The song played again, as if it was on repeat.

Taehyung felt delirious, still held in the air with his feet dangling off the floor as Jungkook
savaged his mouth.

“So hot,” whined Taehyung in between deep, hungry kisses. “So good, Kook. Loved it.”

“Good.” Jungkook set him down to push him back, press him against the mirrors. “Fucking loved
dancing for you.” He kissed him. “Your eyes on me.” Another kiss. “Only on me.” Another.
“Made me want you so bad.”

“Watched you. Wanted you,” agreed Tae breathlessly, moaning when Jungkook licked and nibbled
at his neck.

Heat swamped Tae as Jungkook’s lips trailed down his neck, as he tugged the loose shirt to the
side to bare Tae’s shoulder to his hot mouth. Tae shivered, tried to surge forward, but Jungkook
held him pinned there, effortless as anything.

“Jungkook,” panted Taehyung. “What—”

“Gonna suck you off,” whispered Jungkook, kissing him again. “Make you feel good. Okay,
baby?”

Taehyung let his head fall back, hard enough to bang against the mirror. “Holy shit.”

Jungkook hummed approvingly, nipped at his lips one more time. “Give me a yes, babe. Wanna
suck you, get you off.”

Taehyung nearly sobbed, desperate now as Jungkook reached down and squeezed his ass. “Fuck.
Yes, bun, fuck yeah.”
Jungkook dropped to his knees so suddenly that there was an audible thud. Tae shook at the sight,
at Jungkook reaching to unsnap his jeans and draw the zipper down, infinitely slow.

“Kook, please. Don’t tease,” Tae bit out between gasping breaths. Jungkook smirked but obeyed,
gripped the waistband of his briefs between his teeth and drew the fabric down until his hard
aching cock sprung free.

Jungkook drew his pants and briefs down to mid-thigh and fisted Taehyung casually in one hand,
glancing up at his soulmate, latching eyes as Jungkook leaned in to lick teasingly at the head. Tae
bucked his hips forward but Jungkook lay his arm across his belly, pinning him down.

Jungkook eased forward, sucking him deeper, digging his tongue into the slit and listening smugly
to Tae’s choked moan in response.

“Jungkook,” moaned Taehyung, lost in the sensation of the wet heat surrounding his cock. “Oh my
g-god, baby.”

Jungkook hummed approval, making Tae curse again as the vibrations raced up his cock. The
younger boy set a fast, aggressive pace, bobbing his head furiously, taking Tae deeper and deeper
with every move until the head nudged the back of his throat. Jungkook sucked one furious breath
in through his nose then dove forward, taking Tae clean down his throat, nose pressed to his belly.

Taehyung cried out, at the heat, the pressure encasing him snugly.

“B-baby,” he moaned, delirious with the pleasure. “I-I won’t last, shit. Jungkook.”

Pleased, Jungkook hummed again, making his soulmate choke on a gasp, and snuck one of his
hands between Tae’s legs to press teasingly at the skin just behind his balls. Tae’s hips jerked so
hard that Jungkook struggled to keep him pinned, Tae crying out again in a beautifully broken
voice.

“Fuck. J-Jungkook, I’m coming, c-coming.”

Jungkook suddenly released his grip on Tae’s hips, letting his boy jerk back and forth, thrusting
once, twice, a third time before Tae near screamed, and came. Hot liquid spurted in his mouth and
Jungkook swallowed every drop, only pulling off Tae’s cock when the boy moaned a final weak,
broken cry and sagged weakly against the mirror.

Jungkook released him, sucking in a few harsh pants of air before bracing his hands on the mirror
behind Tae and using it for balance as he crawled up until he stood. Gently he redressed Tae,
smoothing his pants into place.

Taehyung suddenly gripped his cheeks in his hands and pulled him in for a harsh kiss, moaning at
the taste of himself. He could feel the tension in Jungkook’s body, read the ache in the way
Jungkook kept his hands fisted on the mirror.

Tae snuck a hand down his chest, slid beneath the loose elastic waistband of his sweatpants and
gripped his hard cock.

“Taehyung,” bit out Jungkook, shuddering hard as his forehead dropped to Tae’s shoulder. “Shit.
You don’t have to—”

“Come on, baby.” Taehyung kissed his temple, his hair, as he fisted him and moved in quick, hard
tugs. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me?”
“Shit. God, Tae, fuck yeah.”

So on edge, from performing for Tae, from getting him off, that Jungkook came within minutes,
Tae dropping to his knees at the last minute to take the head of his cock in his mouth and swallow
his release.

Panting, Jungkook sagged, Tae supporting him as both boys weakly slid to the floor, bracing their
backs against the mirror, sitting side by side. They stared at their reflections on the opposite wall.
They looked absolutely debauched, hair scattered every which way, clothing disheveled as they
breathed and stared.

“Wow,” said Taehyung, blinking.

“Shit,” agreed Jungkook breathlessly.

Tae sighed, held Jungkook’s hand as he leaned over and buried his forehead against Jungkook’s
warm, trembling shoulder. Together they breathed. Jungkook kissed the top of his head, hard,
squeezing his hand.

“Oh,” said Tae suddenly, pulling away enough despite Jungkook’s groan of protest to grab the
strap of his bag and pull it closer. He pulled out an oversized file folder. “I finished this last night,
brought it to give to you today but, you know, distraction happened.”

“One hell of a distraction,” murmured Jungkook, kissing his temple as he returned to cuddle
against his side. “What is it?”

“It’s for you,” said Tae, suddenly shy.

Jungkook opened the folder. Everything about him froze. His face was unmoving as he stared at
the paper in front of him, bigger than the standard sheet of paper.

Taehyung watched him, then looked away, fiddling with his hands. “S-sorry…if I overstepped,” he
murmured, a little terrified as Jungkook continued to sit there, frozen. “I’m really sorry.”

“Taehyung.” Jungkook’s voice was hoarse. For a long, aching moment, neither of them moved.
Then Jungkook looked over at him, slowly leaned in, and pressed his lips softly, so softly, to Tae’s.
“Thank you.” He looked down again at the gift. “Thank you for bringing them back to me.”

Taehyung’s eyes dampened, and he quickly pressed his forehead to Jungkook’s shoulder again,
hiding, not wanting to burden him with his own emotions while Jungkook was struggling.

It was a sketch. A charcoal sketch, one of Taehyung’s best mediums, however rusty he was. It had
taken him the full two weeks to complete, dozens of shaky attempts thrown in the trash at the
hospital where Jungkook wouldn’t see them.

It was a sketch. A sketch of Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook.

Taehyung had recreated it from the neatly framed picture sitting on Jungkook’s bedside table. A
young teenaged Jungkook, hair shaggy and falling into his eyes, smiling his bunny grin and eyes
wrinkled with humor, stood between his parents. His mother stood on his right, head tilted toward
her son’s, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes a near match for Jungkook’s, her mouth smiling wide
and frozen in delighted laughter. Jungkook’s father stood on his other side, an arm around both of
their shoulders, peering, not out of the paper, but sideways at his family. His expression showed, so
clearly, the love in his eyes.
“It’s them. It’s my parents,” whispered Jungkook. His eyes were damp when he gripped Tae’s chin
in a gentle hand and directed his face up to his. They locked eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so
much.”

Tae’s heart swelled, both of them near tears, as they kissed and kissed and kissed, sitting on the
hardwood floor of an empty dance studio, surrounded by mirrors.

Jungkook broke away, ran his thumb gently over Tae’s cheek.

“I love you.”

Tae nuzzled their noses together. “I love you, too.”

Life continued to change.

Taehyung smiled now, all the time, even at work. And it wasn’t because Dr. Pan received a job
offer in the States she couldn’t refuse and packed her bags, like the nurses assumed.

It was because of the texts waiting on his phone, every time he stepped out of the OR. It was
because of the three—sometimes—square meals a day he ate, courtesy of his dancer soulmate who
had studied nutrition during college. It was because his evenings, usually filled by paperwork or
additional surgeries because there was nothing else to do, were now spent in Jungkook’s
apartment, or Jin hyung’s, laughing with a group of people who cared about him. Not his surgical
skills, him.

It was because of Jimin who invited a crying Taehyung and supportive Jungkook home with him
and Yoongi to his family’s house for Christmas when Tae’s parents sent him an email saying
they’d remain abroad, leaving him alone. It was because of Jimin's family who welcomed both
Taehyung and Jungkook with open arms into their home, allowing the soulmates a place to be
happy, to be together for the holidays.

One day, almost exactly two years to the day after they confessed their love, Taehyung stepped out
of the OR with an exhausted sigh. Blood decorated his scrubs, courtesy of a lacerated femoral
artery during decompression of a traumatically dislocated hip. He swept his scrub cap off his head,
one decorated in the style of Water Lilies by Claude Monet, which matched the print Jungkook had
bought him for his living room wall, and ruffled the hair he had recently dyed a cool blonde.

Jin met him in the hallway. “How’d it go?”

Tae sighed, bent his back in a stretch that cracked what felt like half a dozen vertebrae. “Hit a
bleeder, if you couldn’t tell. But I successfully popped his hip back in place. I don’t think he’ll be
doing any more waterskiing any time soon, but he’ll walk again.” Tae studied Jin’s empty hands.
“Where’s my coffee?” He pouted.

Jin rolled his eyes and gestured down the hall.

Jungkook stood there leaning against the counter of the nurse’s station, chatting amiably with
Soomi. He held two coffee cups in his hands and there was a box of bagels on the counter that
various nurses were picking through.

Tae suddenly didn’t feel like he’d been on his feet for eighteen straight hours. He barely kept
himself from approaching his soulmate at a run.
“Hey,” he greeted, sneaking up behind him to kiss his cheek.

“Hey, babe.” Jungkook turned, offered the cup before leaning in to kiss him properly. “How’d it
go?” He eyed the bloody scrubs with concern.

“My patient will be fine,” Tae reassured, then glanced mournfully down at his scrubs. “This set of
scrubs, however...” He trailed off with a chuckle. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Jungkook pouted. “Not happy to see me?”

Tae rolled his eyes playfully, gripped the collar of his sweater to pull him down into a longer kiss.
“Never. I just thought you had rehearsals tonight and you’d meet me at my place after.”

“Hoseok cancelled it on us. Apparently he got himself a hot date.” Jungkook grinned when Tae
giggled. Hoseok had a date almost every week. The boy was too popular for his own good. “So I
had a thought. And I was actually wondering if I could take you somewhere, if you’re wrapped up
for the day.”

“Spontaneous date? I’m in,” said Tae immediately, intrigued. “Let me just wrap up my paperwork
and grab a shower, then we can go.”

“I’ll wait.” Jungkook leaned in, kissed him again. “No rush.”

Taehyung walked towards the staff lounge with a grin on his face.

Jungkook waited for him in the lobby. Tae walked down the stairs towards him, clean and
refreshed in his street clothes of black skinny jeans and a silky cream-colored collared shirt that
bared a daring portion of his collarbones. Jungkook looked up from his phone at his approach,
smiling warmly.

Tae paused an arm’s length away, drinking him in. Kook wore close-fitting jeans and his favorite
Timberlands, paired with a deep black sweater that hugged his trim waist and had a loose collar
that rose high on his throat but dipped into a low vee along his chest.

Taehyung swallowed, allowed Jungkook to reel him in with arms around his waist. “You look
fantastic,” breathed Tae, blushing when Jungkook kissed his temple.

“Please. Look at you. Have I told you how much your blonde hair destroys me?” murmured
Jungkook against his cheek.

Taehyung shivered.

They left the hospital hand in hand, Taehyung surprised when they steered away from the bus stop
and instead joined the foot traffic to continue heading downtown, away from both of their
apartments.

“Where are you taking me?” wondered Taehyung.

“It’s a surprise.” Jungkook kissed him again when he pouted. “Just trust me.”

“Always.”

They chatted as they walked, ignoring the occasional stares as they continued holding hands. About
Tae’s latest surgery, Jungkook’s new routine that he was choreographing for a big competition
being held at the end of the month that Tae couldn’t wait to watch, their friends.

Jungkook suddenly drew them to a stop on a quieter unremarkable corner, a few blocks from the
crowd of clubs and fancy restaurants that drew most of the people in. A night market sat across the
street, a deli and a tattoo shop in front of them.

“Are we here?” asked Taehyung, looking around curiously.

Jungkook took both his hands in his. “Tae,” he began, and something in Tae shook at the
seriousness of his tone. “It’s been two and a half years since that truck ran me over on my bike,
since you saved my life in your operating room.”

Tae blinked, did some quick mental math. “Wow. Holy shit, it has. Happy anniversary?”

Jungkook chuckled, kissed his forehead. “I’ve had something in mind for a while and when tonight
freed up I thought we’d just go ahead now, but I realize you may not like it so it’s totally up to you
—”

“Bun. Take a breath,” said Tae gently. He waited until Jungkook relaxed a little. “Tell me what’s
going on?”

In answer, Jungkook gestured to the tattoo parlor.

Tae’s eyes widened. “You want to get tattoos?”

He shifted on his feet. “Not exactly. Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Come on.”

The inside of the shop was bright and well lit, resembling more a salon to Taehyung’s mind then
the dark grungy atmosphere he might have pictured. Partitions hid private exam rooms and the
lobby was decorated with tasteful red sofas and sketches of tattoo designs covered every inch of the
white walls. A woman behind the counter looked up at their entrance, and smiled at the sight of
their neatly clasped hands.

“You must be Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook?” she guessed. “Scheduled a pair appointment
for eight o’clock?”

“That’s us,” agreed Jungkook.

Taehyung followed along, bemused, as they were led into a private area with two matching
reclining chairs, courted by a long counter covered with the detritus of tattoo supplies. The
receptionist left them alone after offering refreshment with a promise their artists would be right
with them.

“Jungkook, I don’t understand,” began Taehyung, glancing somewhat uneasily at the equipment.
He’d never given any thought to getting a tattoo, too scarred by the words on his wrist. Did
Jungkook want to get matching tattoos?

“Taehyung.” Jungkook took his hands in his again, watched him with such love that Tae nearly
melted. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said instantly.

Jungkook looked down. And he took Taehyung’s right hand in his, fingers gently tracing the words
inked there.

Taehyung froze.

“You’ve had to live with this insult on your wrist for your entire life, because of me,” murmured
Jungkook.

“Jungkook—”

“You’re my soulmate. The one I was always destined to love, the one that I am honored to love, the
one I wish to protect. Especially wounds I caused by being a dumb kid.” Jungkook reached into his
back pocket, drew out a folded piece of paper. “So I had this idea.”

He offered it, and Tae hesitated before slowly grasping it and opening the page.
The words on his wrist were repeated across the top of the page. But beneath them, sat an edited
version.

Back off, freak

never Back off / / freak out only Because I Love You

Openly crying, Tae glanced in the column beside it. There sat Jungkook’s tattoo.

S-sorry…
I’m Not S-sorry…That We Met

“What do you think?” whispered Jungkook after a painful minute, in which he stood there
watching his soulmate cry.

“Jungkook, I…” His voice failed. Taehyung finally looked up, looked into his eyes, saw the love
and the pride shining there. “I love you. And yes. Yes, I love this. Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Jungkook sagged with relief when Tae nodded furiously. Their laughs were wild with
relief and emotion as they grabbed each other and sank into a kiss.

Lost in each other, it took a cleared throat from nearby to make them blink and separate. Two men,
both dressed in urbane black from head to toe, with fashionably pierced ears and wide grins, stood
there peering at them.

“Hi guys,” greeted one. “I’m Yugyeom, this is Bambam. We’ll be your artists tonight. Do you guys
know what you want?”

Taehyung looked at Jungkook again, clutching his hand tight. “Yes,” he replied softly. Jungkook’s
eyes were full, with love, with life, as Tae continued, “Yes, we know what we want.”

They left their left hands clenched tight in one another’s as the artists worked on their right wrists,
echoing the cursive script and coloring, blending the old words seamlessly into the new designs.
 They walked out a couple hours later, hands still clasped, wrists sore, but smiles wide.

They took a taxi back to Taehyung’s apartment where they caved into emotional exhaustion and
collapsed onto the sofa in one another’s arms.

Taehyung stared at the new words on his wrist, still getting used to it. Never again would he have
to fear the words catching his eye and giving him a jolt at inopportune times. Now, warmth flooded
his body as he read the words, because they reflected the feelings that Taehyung and Jungkook
shared for one another.

“Jungkook.” Taehyung waited until their eyes met. “I’m so damn happy that you’re my soulmate.”

Jungkook cuddled him closer, kissed his cheek. “I love you, Tae. Always will.”

“Good.” Tae grinned when Jungkook arched a brow at him. “Because I was sorta kinda planning
on asking you to move in with me this weekend but you beat me to the punch with all this tattoo
awesomeness so I’m just gonna blurt it out now. Jungkook, move in with me?”

Jungkook blinked. “Full kitchen and television privileges?”

“I’ll even throw in access to the bathroom.”

“Deal.” Jungkook pounced, rolling a wildly giggling Taehyung beneath him to pepper kisses across
his face. “Yes, Taehyung. I’d fucking love to live with you, let’s do it.” He pulled back, stared into
his eyes and tenderly traced his fingers over the new words on Tae’s wrist. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bun.”

And as Taehyung curled against Jungkook that night, warm and cozy and tucked up in their bed, he
thought back to that day in the café, twelve long years ago now. He wished he could go back and
reassure that young crying Taehyung that everything would be okay.

Because he had his happy ending, right here in his arms.

the end.

End Notes

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