8-Monachopsis
From: [email protected]
Subject: Surgery Details
As soon as Yoongi saw the email in his inbox, sent to the address sent up by his father's company, his mood soured completely.
Here it was: the information about the surgery that would change his life forever should he decide to go through with it. Not only would he have a chance at walking again, but he would also become his father's heir and gain his support and love once more.
What could go wrong?
A lot, apparently. The surgery was extremely experimental, having only been performed successfully on fifty-three patients. The others either had little to no change in their state of paralysis or they had died due to surgical complications or pre-existing conditions.
The procedure itself was incredibly invasive and even though Yoongi didn't understand medical jargon, he winced every time he read the words "spinal intervention" or "nerve reallocation". It was enough to worry him, even though he often dreamed of such a procedure.
Was it really worth the risk? What if he still couldn't walk and his father shunned him as planned? What if he had complications and lost the progress he had made? What if he died?
Yoongi slams his laptop shut.
There was a time in his life when he wanted nothing more. But fate is a funny bitch; he supposes karma is too.
Rolling out of his studio, Yoongi pauses when he finds Taehyung in the living room, on a Skype call with Jimin. The nurse is curled up on the couch in his bright red scrubs with a pair of gold circular glasses perched on his strong nose. His hair is pulled back only in the front into a small ponytail on top of his head. Jimin is on the screen wearing a breezy white shirt and board shorts. To see the two of them conversing so freely is an unusual sight; Yoongi hadn't realized they were that close.
"Min Yoongi!" comes Jimin's voice from the computer speakers as soon as he spots the elder lurking in the background. "Why didn't you tell me you have a date tonight?"
With a groan, Yoongi comes over to the couch so his best friend can yell at him properly. "I was going to mention it."
"When? When it was over?" Jimin scoffs before pouting rather cutely. "You know I love to dress you up nice and pretty! What were you going to do without me?"
Taehyung is watching the exchange from his place on the couch with amused eyes. He seems so relaxed just leaning back into the cushions, one converse-clad foot propped up on the other knee. It irritates Yoongi.
"I already have something picked out," Yoongi assures with a wave of his hand. He tries not to notice the way Taehyung eyes him at this; he doesn't miss the way the nurse runs his gaze over him slowly before focusing on Jimin once more.
Jimin's eyes light up. "Please tell me it's the silky black shirt and those dark-wash skinny jeans," he pleads. "Oh! And the choker! You always look so good in the choker!"
Taehyung quirks a brow and Yoongi touches his neck momentarily at the thought. He hadn't considered the choker, having only worn it on nights where he knew he was going to get fucked roughly, but he does suppose he looks good in it.
"Yeah, that's-"
"And do your makeup please," Jimin interrupts, giggling with glee. "But not before you use my facial oil! That way your complexion is nice and dewy and— Oh, Taehyung-ah?"
The nurse angles the computer towards him and widens his eyes in anticipation. The glasses make him look older and more polished, even with usual quirky choice of styling. "Yeah?"
"Please help Hyung get ready or else he will end up a tragedy. You said you like fashion, right?" Taehyung nods, but not before his gaze drifts over to Yoongi. "Good! Make him look so good this guy will have problems thinking rationally when he sees him."
Yoongi snorts at his friend's eager nature— Jimin absolutely loves it when people lust over his friend— but then Taehyung's deep voice breaks the atmosphere.
"Is this a good idea?" the nurse questions, his gaze moving back to Jimin. Gone is the easy-going mood, replaced by a concern that automatically sets Yoongi on edge. Why does everyone insist on treating him like a child? "Can this guy be trusted with Yoongi-ssi? What if he needs help?"
Jimin laughs again, though it's soft. He readjust his phone and leans into the screen. "Taehyung-ah, I'm sure that Hyung made sure that his date knows all about him. You said they will be going to Seokjin-hyung's restaurant, so no harm there. It's just dinner."
"But it's not," Taehyung retorts quickly, though he sounds anxious. He swallows hard and looks over to Yoongi. His eyes are wide, panicked almost. Those red lips are chapped and chewed to shit, probably out of anxiety. Why exactly the nurse seems so concerned escapes him, however. "You said you'll be back in the morning, right? Well, who is going to help you with your morning routine?"
Jimin makes an awkward noise on the computer and even though Yoongi can't see all of his friend's face from this angle, he already knows that Jimin's droopy eyes have gone wide at the statement.
Yoongi is not ashamed of his intentions. "I imagine the guy who just fucked me will have the decency to help me out of his apartment in the morning," he replies coolly.
Taehyung blinks behind his glasses at this. Jimin gasps, scandalized.
Yoongi smirks.
"Is this— Is this even worth the risk?" Taehyung asks through grit teeth. "I'm just worried. Meeting strangers online can be dangerous and you're just going to go to this guy's apartment so you can sleep with him? Yoongi-ssi, surely there are better ways to—"
"To what, Taehyung-ah?" Yoongi cocks his head, steeling himself for yet another argument with this man. "Get laid? For everyone else, yeah, there are better ways. For me? No. Do you see me? You think guys just jump at the chance to take me out?"
Sighing heavily, Taehyung looks over to Jimin on the screen and then back at his employer. "Well, this guy knows what you look like and he still wants to take you out. I'm just thinking that maybe it should end at dinner. Its safer that way. You've only been talking to him for what, a week? Maybe just see how this date goes before you—"
"Who are you? My father?" Yoongi is positively bristling now. Where does his nurse get off? Yoongi isn't an idiot; he knows what he's doing. If he could survive his drug-addled, drunken party days, then he can handle dinner and a quick fuck.
"Hyung, please calm down," Jimin requests softly. As your caretaker, Taehyung-ah is just concerned, as he has a right to be."
"Right, as my employee, it's your job to worry about me, right?"
Taehyung grimaces at the tone. "It's not just that," he argues. "I wouldn't feel comfortable with anyone going on a date like this. It doesn't seem right..."
"Because you've had so much success with dating," Yoongi bites back, realizing his words only seconds later.
But it's too late. Taehyung, usually so soft, so kind-hearted and curious, simply throws the laptop on the couch and then walks off. Minutes later, a bedroom door slams shut. Yeontan scurries after his owner up the small stairwell with a few worried yips.
"Hyung, that was uncalled for." Jimin sounds disappointed, exasperated, and Yoongi doesn't blame him. He understands.
Rolling over to the couch, Yoongi picks up the computer. He looks at his best friend on the screen. Jimin is frowning at him.
He feels bad, he really does, but he's tired of everyone second-guessing every move he makes. Right now, he just wants to focus on himself for once.
"I'll apologize later, I just— I really need this date."
Jimin's face softens and he's reaching out to the screen as if he could comfort his friend through it. "I know, hyung. I know. You need to get out there again, and if you feel comfortable meeting this guy, then do it. I trust you. Text me his address though and keep me updated. If for a second I don't get a response, then I'm calling the police."
Yoongi chuckles at this thought. "What if we're busy fucking?"
"Oh," Jimin flushes at this, "then maybe text me letting me know you're about to fuck so I know not to worry?"
"That's so creepy." Yoongi grimaces and Jimin laughs, the sound tinkling through the speakers.
"You're right. Don't do that because then I'll be at dinner with my family just thinking about you getting your ass pounded." He shivers comically at the thought. "Speaking of that, are you ok? Like, with doing it after so long?"
Yoongi rolls his eyes and snorts. "You forget how much of a slut I was before the accident."
"Hyung, really? Do you have to remind me? Some of those stories have me scarred for life," he whines.
"If I recall correctly, some of those stories you really liked." Yoongi wiggles his eyebrows at this and Jimin blushes furiously.
"Go get ready for your date and apologize to poor Taehyung-ah! I should really pay him extra for your verbal abuse."
"You're so dramatic," Yoongi complains before ending the call with a grin.
——————
"You know she's too good for you, right?"
Taehyung looks up from his notebook to see a senior classmate leaning against his desk with a smirk. "What?"
"Don't play dumb, Kim-ssi," the boy snorts, inclining his head towards the gaggle of girls gossiping on the opposite side of the room. "You asked Yoonji on a date, didn't you? You know she only said yes because she pities you. It's a joke to her. She can have anyone she wants."
"T-That's not true," Taehyung sputters out, caught off-guard by this classmate's bold statements. "She likes me. We, uh, talk a lot."
It's true. They talk a lot. Before school, during breaks, at lunch, and after school as Taehyung walks her to her house surprisingly not far from his own. They talk so much that it's begun to feel like they've known each other for their whole lives; they tell each other things that they don't dare admit to anyone else.
Taehyung is beginning to think he's falling in love.
"Sure she does, kid," the senior boy is taunting. "That's why she also agreed to go on a date with Lee Changkyun on Friday."
Feeling his stomach drop, Taehyung turns around in his seat to glance over at the most popular guy in school, currently surrounded by most of the soccer club and all the fourth-year girls. He looks like he belongs in a drama, his features strong and sharp, making him appear much more mature. His eyes are uniquely slanted, the kind of shape that looks alluring without any makeup and Taehyung has heard many of the girls talk about how excited they get when that gaze is on them.
He's heard hushed conversations and whispered retellings of the sort of things Lee Changkyun likes to do at parties and on dates. He never dates virgins and if he does, they don't stay that way for long.
Taehyung swallows hard and looks down at his calloused hands, at his school uniform which has been mended many times by both his mother and grandmother. His hair is unkempt and he constantly has to fiddle with the glasses perched on his nose because they don't fit quite right.
He looks over to Yoonji, sitting on her desk with her legs crossed while giggling with her friends. She looks so radiant, so effortlessly beautiful with her long lashes and little pursed lips. He wants to kiss those lips every time he drops her off at her house, every time she breaks into a wide grin showcasing her square teeth and pink gums.
Silently, Taehyung wills her to look over and smile at him, to prove this rude classmate wrong, to prove himself right.
Look at me, look at me, look at me....
Slowly, Yoonji lifts her gaze and sweeps over Taehyung until she's looking across the room over to Lee Changkyun and the senior boy takes note and grins salaciously back at her.
Taehyung can't look anymore. He stares down at his desk.
"Look, Kim-ssi, you're a nice guy, but being nice only gets you so far." The classmate claps his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry, though, when she gets bored, I'm sure she will come find you again."
There's a knock on the door and Taehyung wipes at his eyes, smearing the saltwater there. Yeontan lifts his little head up from the pillow next to him.
Yoongi doesn't wait for permission to come in, he simply peers into the doorway and lingers near the threshold. He sucks in a deep breath. His face is marred with what Taehyung now knows is guilt. "I'm sorry, Taehyung-ssi. That was rude of me to say."
Shocked, the nurse just sits on his bed, blinking away the remnants of tears. He never thought he would see the day that Yoongi would apologize for his behavior, let alone in regards to him.
With a sigh, Yoongi wheels himself further into the room, causing Yeontan to jump off the bed to go greet the man. In another surprising gesture, Yoongi pats his lap in invitation until Yeontan jumps up and settles on it with a satisfied squeak.
Taehyung arches a brow at the sight. Had Yoongi done this before? Why had he never noticed that his employer actually showed affection to his pet?
When Yoongi looks up at him in expectation, Taehyung regains his lucidity. "That was.... really shitty of you to say. I'm not even going to lie, I'm upset."
"I know." Yoongi admits, still stroking Yeontan. His gaze is hollow, cast down to the floor, and Taehyung wonders if this is hard or him, to admit his faults, to be the bigger person. "I didn't mean it. You just made me feel cornered with all your questions, but I— I really need to do this. For me."
"Why?" Taehyung finds himself asking, willing Yoongi to look him in the eye.
He does.
"I need to know that I'm not... unwanted," his patient admits, face twisting into a grimace at the admission.
"But—"
"Don't," Yoongi warns. "Don't tell me that I have Jimin, or Kook-ah, or anyone else. That's not what I mean and you know it." He falls quiet, and then, "you understand exactly what I mean."
Taehyung does. Even though he hasn't felt the need to date since he lost Yoonji, he has had plenty of lonely nights craving someone next to him, wishing for someone to wake up to, even just once, to feel as if he's complete again.
He often wishes for someone to tell him it's ok, that he's allowed to be happy despite her being gone.
That it's not wrong.
He recognizes the desperation in Yoongi's eyes, has felt so small compared to others before. Something within him snaps— something that he hasn't felt since that day he cowered beneath his jeering classmate.
"I do understand. I really do, Yoongi-ssi, but please don't talk to me like that again."
"I'm sorry. I'll try not to be an asshole when I'm upset."
Yeontan licks the man's hand in appreciation.
"Ok," Taehyung breathes out. His patient watches him with wide, curious eyes. "Let's get you ready then."
The way Yoongi blinks repeatedly before giving the nurse a soft smile is worth it.
Yoongi wasn't lying when he said he had an outfit picked out. After helping his patient into the shower, Taehyung lays out the instructed clothing on the bed and gathers the facial products from Jimin's room as requested.
"I'm done," he hears Yoongi yell after fifteen minutes or so and Taehyung turns off the water and lets the elder wrap his damp arms around his neck. He lifts Yoongi up off the shower chair, his hands slick on the back of Yoongi's slim thighs and he lowers his patient down into his chair before he's dutifully drying him off.
When Yoongi is properly dry, he begins to wheel the man into the other room to get dressed, but then the nurse's arm is being tugged.
"Not yet," Yoongi says, nearly breathless, still flushed from the shower. "I need to put lotion on."
Right, his patient is getting ready for a date, which means he probably wants to smell nice. Of course.
Yoongi points to a bottle on the counter and Taehyung brings it over to him. "I'll need help," the elder admits, cheeks flushing even further.
Taehyung pauses at the sight, wondering why his patient is still acting so coy. Yoongi has been forgiven for his earlier rude comments, so why is his voice so soft? Was he really that nervous about this date?
Of course he was. He intends to sleep with this man, to trust a stranger with his care after seeing him in the most intimate way....
Why does this thought bother Taehyung so much?
Sucking in a breath, the nurse drops to his knees and watches as Yoongi squeezes a dollop of lotion onto his pale hands before passing the bottle back. Yoongi avoids his gaze and begins to rub the lotion into his arms, neck, and chest, and Taehyung does as instructed and begins to rub down his patient's legs.
It's strange, how tender and soft Yoongi is beneath his fingers. How the raised tissue of the scarring on his legs is smooth and shiny and barely noticeable without tactile sensation. There are little patches of baby-fine hair on the healthy tissue, but hardly any muscle beneath the taut skin.
"Your skin is soft," Taehyung finds himself whispering, eyes drifting up to Yoongi.
The elder is done with the lotion and is watching him. "Is it? I don't really— I don't really like to touch my legs much."
"You should." The nurse continues with his task, letting his hands glide across the flesh. "It's still your body. You shouldn't resent it." He immediately freezes, fearing that he has overstepped a boundary, but instead, he looks up to find Yoongi stone-faced and impassive.
"I wish I could feel that," his patient whispers, so low that Taehyung isn't sure it was meant to be heard. He chooses to let it go and finishes rubbing the lotion in.
When he's done, the nurse leans back and clears his throat. "Do you really trust this guy?"
Yoongi blinks and then rolls his eyes. "This again? Do you want me to get upset?"
With a heavy sigh, Taehyung rises to his feet to place the lotion back on the counter. He stands there for a minute before shaking his head. "I just worry about you," he counters, "you barely know this guy and Namjoon-hyung said—"
"Tell me, what did Joon say?" Yoongi quickly interjects. "Let me guess, he thinks I'm trying to get into shit like I used to? Figures he would think that, nosy fucker—"
Taehyung can't believe what he's hearing. He whirls around to find Yoongi staring at him with contempt, always so defensive even when completely nude. "He cares about you! He's your friend! How can you talk about him like that?"
"Why do you care?" Yoongi spits back, shifting in his chair. "Why do you care who I talk about, who I talk to, what I do? You're just my employee, a fucking nurse! I don't understand why you can't just get that through your head! I don't need your sympathy, I don't need your fucking pity. I just need you to do your damn job."
"I would love to just do my job but you've made that impossible for me!" Taehyung argues, frustration slipping into his tone. Why does it feel like the hundredth time they've had this fight? "You wouldn't let me help you with things, nearly getting yourself killed, and now that we've settled down and found a nice routine, you won't just talk to me. You talk to Jungkook-ah. You talk to to Hobi-hyung. You even make conversation with Seokjin-hyung, but everything I do, you want no part of it! What is it Yoongi-ssi? Is it my hair? Is it my interests, my hobbies, the way I talk or dress? What on earth did I do for you to look at me and decide that I'm not worthy?"
Yoongi startles at the words. His lips purse before they part in confusion. "Worthy? What do you think I've found you not worthy of?"
"Your attention," Taehyung breathes out, and suddenly he's back in high school, crying in the middle of the street because his fucking classmate was right— Yoonji was going on a date with Lee Changkyun and there was nothing he could do about it.
"It's nothing serious and I figured it was ok since we haven't really talked about this," Yoonji had said that day, gesturing between the two of them.
Taehyung had wondered back then why she couldn't just wait, why she couldn't go a date with him first, then decide if she wanted to see other people. Was he not enough? She didn't talk to him like she talked to everyone else. She treated him like a kid brother, like a puppy begging her for simple touch.
It was only after several months of pursuit and several other dates with guys that treated her like shit that she finally acknowledged Taehyung. He always wondered if she was settling, if she secretly wanted something better every time she looked at him.
"My attention?" Yoongi seems beyond bewildered at this, and Taehyung flushes in shame. That wasn't really the problem with their relationship— miscommunication was— but somehow this sentiment had slipped out instead. He had merely intended to express that he wished Yoongi would warm up to him, befriend him.
"It's getting late," Taehyung blurts out. "We should finish getting you ready."
Neither of them speak as Yoongi is dressed, his face cleaned and prepped for makeup with various recommendations by Jimin. When his job is done, Taehyung stands by and watches Yoongi blow-dry his hair and fluff it out with a small brush. He watches his usually reserved patient pump out a small amount of foundation on a sponge and dab it on his imperfections and line his eyes with a dark pencil. Finally, the look is complete with a sheer balm on his lips and a spritz of cologne on his silky black shirt. The choker around his neck does exactly as Jimin specified.
Yoongi looks good, like the pictures Taehyung found on the internet, like the man who had the world at his feet and set it on fire. Even Yeontan takes notice, waddling into the bedroom to inspect the scene and running up to Yoongi for petting.
"Do I look ok?" his patient asks, and Taehyung has to avert his eyes, but he grunts out an affirmation all the same.
Yoongi is beautiful in a way that Taehyung has yet to comprehend. Handsome in the same way that Namjoon believed Taehyung was.
What does this revelation mean?
Taehyung doesn't want an answer to that yet.
When the nurse brings Yoongi downstairs to wait for his date, he doesn't miss the way the elder packs his medication for tonight and tomorrow morning. He doesn't miss the way Yoongi undoes the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal his lotioned collarbones, the way his eye makeup makes his gaze that much more mesmerizing. His lips shine with color.
Taehyung has to excuse himself to the kitchen where he splays his hands on the marble countertop and wonders just why he feels sixteen again, watching his first love walk into her house, knowing that later that night, she would be in the arms of another guy.
———————
To say that Yoongi is nervous would be an understatement.
He's terrified, so much so, that he wonders how he ever used to do things like this, how he had enough confidence to go home with someone he only exchanged a few words with. How in the world he had been able to make eye contact with several men in one room at a lavish party and then wait for them upstairs to let himself be completely ravished all at once without a care for consequence.
Who was that person? Where did he go, because right now, Yoongi really needs him.
He's shaking in his chair, waiting by the front door. He's already got his keys, his phone, his wallet, his medication. He drowned himself in cologne and has made sure that the logistics of the evening will play out well. He's already taken his daily shit, so there will be no need for that kind of thing while he stays overnight. He's learned how to piss like a girl when circumstances require, and he will just wear tonight's outfit home in the morning.
He will keep Jimin updated on his whereabouts and Seokjin will assess his date when they make it to the restaurant just in case anything seems off about the guy.
Everything will be fine.
So why is he so nervous?
Yoongi hates to admit it, but Taehyung's words had gotten under his skin. Hell, Taehyung had gotten under his skin the last few days. He could understand the nurse being cautious about Yoongi's physical safety, but why was he concerned with his emotional state?
So what if Yoongi wished for things to be like they were. Who cares if he craves the attention, the thrill of getting lost in alcohol, drugs, or someone else's body? Those had been the best days of his life, finally free and able to express himself while sticking it to his asshole of a father.
Once his brother Jun Ki had entered the service and decided to stay there, Yoongi knew his father couldn't just abandon him; the man had to accept his son for the time being and Yoongi had one hell of a time taking back his life after everything had went to shit that one night— the night Yoongi first kissed Jimin.
"A neighbor called. They saw you kissing a boy."
Yoongi remembers standing there in the front doorway, his backpack slung over his shoulder. His mother was crying, his father was fuming. The furious man asked his son if it was true and when Yoongi had been too stunned to answer, he was slapped hard across the face.
"Was it Park Jimin? Please tell us, Yoongi. I have to let his mother know. I can't just let her think her son is normal."
He didn't understand why his mother was so hysterical for her best friend, why she was worried how the other woman would react to her son being gay, as if it were a disease that Yoongi had just passed on to the other boy.
Again, he didn't answer quick enough and his cheek burned with the second slap.
"Answer your mother, boy! Was it Park Jimin?"
"No! No, i-it was someone e-else!"
His father had pulled back his hand at that; his mother relaxed with an audible sigh.
"You're a waste of breath. No son of mine will ever be a whore for another man."
How wrong his father had been.
The sound of the doorbell knocks him out of his reverie and with a deep breath, Yoongi rolls over to answer the door. When he pulls it back, standing in the doorway is a tall, handsome man, the spitting image of his profile picture. Yoongi lets out a relieved breath at the realization that he hadn't been tricked, but it's short-lived because the peace is quickly replaced with nearly crippling anxiety.
Kangbyun's thin lips break into a cheeky grin and then he's leaning in the doorway. "Are you going to let me in, gorgeous?" He's dressed nicely in black slacks and a crimson button-down that looks expensive and neatly pressed.
With a sputter, Yoongi rolls back to let his guest in and Kangbyun whistles appreciatively while looking around the apartment. "This is a nice place," he observes, and his voice is light and airy, similar to Jimin's, but more mature.
"Thank you," Yoongi manages to say, hoping his voice doesn't shake with nerves.
Kangbyun turns his attention to him with one eyebrow cocked. "Fuck, your voice is so sexy. Do you smoke?"
"Occasionally," Yoongi admits with a shrug. He feels suddenly self-conscious looking up at his date from his chair, even though this is the view he has of everyone in his life.
"That's not healthy for you, gorgeous," Kangbyun teases, producing something from behind his back— a bouquet of flowers that he presents to Yoongi with a smile. "These are for you, though you make the beauty of the flowers pale in comparison."
Yoongi can't help the blush that spreads like wildfire on his cheeks as he stares down at the offering. The flowers are beautiful, stunning hues of pinks, reds, and blues, neatly wrapped up in cellophane. He takes them with a squeak, having found that his voice won't cooperate now. He knows this guy is using lines on him, but it's been so long since he's had such attention that he doesn't mind.
This is only supposed to be an easy fuck anyway.
"So, I contacted your friend at the restaurant and our reservation is in thirty minutes," Kangbyun begins, still grinning down at Yoongi with a set of perfect teeth. "Just enough time to get through traffic, yeah?"
"Yeah," Yoongi breathes out, fighting back a smile. This feels so good, so nice—
Kangbyun clears his throat. "Before we go, let me help you with some things." He begins looking around the foyer, much to Yoongi's confusion. "Where are your crutches?"
"Crutches?" Yoongi furrows his brows and ceases sniffing the flowers. "I... don't have any crutches."
His date seems surprised by this, but then he just laughs it off. "So I have to push you around all night?" His tone is light, joking, but Yoongi can hear the undercurrent, the annoyance.
"Yes," Yoongi slowly drawls out, "I can't walk— Didn't you read my bio? I explained it on there."
"Oh, that? It was kind of long, so I skimmed it. I was more interested in all your pretty pictures," he admits with another jarring laugh. "But from what I read, I gathered that you were in a car accident and that you're injured. Thought you used crutches or something when you're not in the chair recovering."
Yoongi is speechless. There is bile threatening to crawl up his throat and his heart is hammering away in his chest.
Why would he ever think this was a good idea? Why did he ever think anyone would want him like this?
After a few terse minutes of Kangbyun just staring at him awkwardly, Yoongi finally speaks. "I-I was in a car accident, but that was four years ago. I was paralyzed from the waist down. I can't walk." He swallows hard. "I will never walk."
It hurts to admit, and Yoongi doesn't think he's ever admitted it out loud before, but there it is— the stark reality.
Kangbyun just stares, his mouth in a tight line with his eyebrows raised impossibly high beneath his dark, coiffed hair. "Oh," he breathes out, blinking. "Oh, I guess it's my fault for not understanding— Wow, I just don't know what to say."
Don't say anything, Yoongi thinks. Don't say another fucking word.
"If I had known you were a cripple, then I guess I would've—"
Yoongi drops the flowers in his hands. The plastic wrapping crinkles harshly against the tile floor. He's no stranger to derogatory slurs, hurtful words, but hearing one fall from the mouth of someone he had hoped would understand him is jarring.
"Can you even fuck?" Kangbyun boldly asks. "Like you weren't just teasing me, right? I mean, your mouth and ass still work, right?" He chuckles then, like it's the punchline of a joke and Yoongi should join in.
Suddenly, Yoongi doesn't know why he feels tears sting his eyes. He wanted this. He wanted a quick and easy fuck, to be objectified like he used to be, had even joked with himself about it.
But now—
"I can still fuck you, right?" Kangbyun asks again, with an eagerness slipping into his tone.
Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, to surrender himself to this stranger, because he just wants to feel wanted, even if it's for the wrong reasons—
"Get out."
Taehyung's deep voice is booming, echoing into the foyer as the nurse stands in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes hard and arms crossed over his scrub top.
"What? Who is this?" Kangbyun implores lookimg between the nurse and Yoongi.
"It doesn't matter who I am— Get out," Taehyung snaps, stalking further into the space.
Yoongi shakes off his shock. His eyes narrow. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Taehyung doesn't bother acknowledging him, instead walking right up to Kangbyun. "Get out before I call the cops."
"Are you his fucking boyfriend—" Kangbyun cuts himself off, eyes scanning over Taehyung's outfit and most likely putting the pieces together. "Oh, you're his babysitter."
Before Yoongi can even get another word in, Taehyung is pushing Kangbyun hard, shoving the man back towards the front door. "Get out!" His scream reverberates off the walls and in Yoongi's bones.
Kangbyun scoffs, his nostrils flared wide, and before he leaves, he eyes Yoongi one last time.
All Yoongi sees there is disgust.
When the door slams shut, Yoongi readies himself to read his nurse the riot act, but Taehyung doesn't stay. He just leaves the room, leaves his patient sitting there with no explanation, dressed up with cologne clinging to his clothes, makeup smothering his skin, and flowers littering the floor.
And despite being so pissed, despite being so incredibly angry at the situation and his nurse, all Yoongi can do is cry like a little bitch, sobbing into the palms of his hands, shaking in his chair. He wants to scream, he wants to shout, he wants to fucking run, but he can't. He can't go anywhere, do anything without help, because he's broken, so broken—
Someone is prying his hands away from his face, and Yoongi doesn't know how long he's been crying like a child, but Taehyung takes his time wiping his patient down, dabbing at the smeared eyeliner running beneath Yoongi's water-logged eyes. He then offers some tissue for Yoongi to blow his nose with and then he's picking up the flowers off the floor and throwing them away.
It's only after his sorrow calms that Yoongi realizes what's so off about the situation.
Taehyung smells good, like fresh cologne. His eyes seem more defined, his hair brushed and lightly styled. His lips are still shiny with balm, but it's freshly applied. Yoongi looks him over. His nurse is no longer wearing scrubs, but a velveteen dress shirt and a pair of dark slacks finished with dress shoes. The piercings in his ears glitter.
Taehyung leans down in front of him and catches a stray tear with his thumb, wiping it away gently. "He doesn't deserve you," the nurse tells him, his face close, so close. "But you deserve a date. So will you go out with me, Yoongi-ssi?"
And impossibly, Yoongi— fiery, sarcastic, bratty Yoongi— has been rendered speechless by a man with a bleached mullet, fading traces of shitty fake tattoos, and the warmest gaze he has ever felt upon his skin.
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