Hospitals are a strange place; you can find both birth and loss in one place, surrounded by stark white walls and a strong antiseptic smell. But perhaps the strangest paradox is the area between life and death— those struggling to hold on when their bodies desperately want to give up.

If Taehyung had given in to the social anxiety that had plagued him all throughout the later half of high school, then he would've never stepped foot inside another hospital, but losing Yoonji had pretty much forced him to grow up. With her passing came the need to honor her somehow, to make himself useful to others like her. So Taehyung had chosen a life built around hospitals; around clinical tests and the sterile equipment; around syringes, catheters, bedpans, and saline bags.

Medical school hadn't been easy; he saw way too many patients like Yoonji. He saw way too many of those same patients die no matter what he or any of the medical staff could do. He saw miraculous recoveries and unexpected declines in health. He saw it all and somehow he began to dissociate the part of him that cared for strangers from the part of him that cared for Yoonji. One Taehyung was professional and direct and the other was nothing more than human, feeling every torrid emotion that ever warped that beautiful face.

Watching Yoongi be placed on a gurney and wheeled off had brought with it a new realization, one that Taehyung is apt to deny.

He feels very much human in this moment.

He feels..... upset at the thought of losing Yoongi and he's sure it has everything to do with the fact that his patient resembles his first love. When he saw Yoongi lying on the bathroom floor, he recalled every time Yoonji had gotten up from her chair too fast and she fell to her knees. He saw her lying on the worn carpet of her bedroom because she was too weak to crawl into bed. He saw her trying to catch her breath after they had made love, insisting she was fine, only to watch her shudder from lack of air moments later.

Taehyung saw a lot of things when he looked at Yoongi and the stress of the last hour had only brought this fact to light.

So what does he do now? He knows that he should quit. It's the logical thing to do. It's not right to continue to care for a patient that he feels emotionally connected to on such a volatile level. Normal affection— as is the case with Jimin being a caretaker— was fine, but Taehyung felt something when he looked at his patient and that something was a deep longing for a person who he could never see again.

Yoongi was not Yoonji.

He keeps telling himself that.

Yoongi is not Yoonji.

And yet...

"He suffered a mild concussion as well as severe bruising on his left hip. I don't believe there's any internal bleeding but he will have to account for any nerve pain if he experiences any," a doctor tells Taehyung. Yoongi has already awakened from his trauma and is sitting in his chair dressed in a hospital gown.

The elder is still somewhat out of it, but he's clearly unhappy. He keeps scowling at the floor and every so often his narrowed gaze will settle on Taehyung but then quickly flit away. The doctor had tried to discuss what his examination had yielded with Yoongi, but he had wanted nothing to do with anything after waking up, so that left Taehyung as the obvious choice to relay the information to.

"The cut on his forehead required stitches and they should dissolve within a week or two," the doctor continues. "I would take it easy for a couple days, nothing too strenuous. Also, the concussion isn't too concerning, but I want to be sure that there's no complications. Don't let him sleep for at least the next twelve hours. If there are any signs of incoordination, nausea, or slurring of speech, please bring him back."

Nodding, Taehyung takes the papers presented to him. They're reference sheets for concussion protocol and the type of stitches that Yoongi now has in his skin. "What about physical therapy? He has a session every week day."

The doctor hums in thought, looking Yoongi over. "He really should avoid anything having to do with his bruised hip, but he can return to therapy in a day or so if it's kept to a bare minimum until the injury begins to heal."

"I understand." Taehyung thanks the doctor with a slight bow and then the man takes his leave. A discharge nurse finalizes the insurance details and then Taehyung is wheeling Yoongi out of the facility. He checks his phone once more to make sure that Hobi had managed to drop off the car in the valet parking lot.

When he sees a confirmation text, he breathes out a sigh of relief. It's an odd dynamic, but he's grateful that all of Yoongi's employees are close-knit. Hobi had driven the car here and then hitched a ride with Seokjin who was just going into work at his restaurant. He makes a mental note to thank the both of them later as well as get on Jungkook's good side so he won't be so angry at his therapy patient the next session.

It's dark now, the sun having set hours ago when chaos had erupted. Yoongi had been unconscious for a good forty-five minutes or so, and that was terrifying for Taehyung, but the doctor had assured him that Yoongi's body had went into a state of shock after hitting his head and he simply passed out from the anxiety rather than the wound. Neither instance was good, but at least it was one less medical emergency to worry about.

"Can you hurry up?" Yoongi demands from his chair. He shivers visibly. "I'm fucking cold and this shit is like wearing a thin sheet over my balls."

Taehyung can't help himself; he snorts out a laugh at this. They gave Yoongi some pain medicine in his IV when he woke up, and it seems it has loosened his tongue considerably. "I'm going as fast as I can, Yoongi-ssi. Any faster and we would be running."

"I wouldn't mind that to be honest," Yoongi retorts. "You're not the one whose dick is about to fall off, so just fucking run."

"Are you serious? You want me to run?" The nurse tries to contain his grin as he walks.

Yoongi groans. "Don't make me repeat myself. My head already hurts like fuck." The man turns around slightly in his chair and narrows his eyes. "Is your hair— Are you wearing it in a fucking ponytail?"

Bobbing his head from side to side, Taehyung hums. "Sometimes it gets in my face so I have to put it up."

"Then fucking cut it." Yoongi purses his lips and then turns around. He's slouching over, almost trying to curl up in a little ball from the cold.

"I don't want to cut it," Taehyung states, still walking rather leisurely past pedestrians and patients out for a night's walk. "I like it like this."

The noise that erupts from Yoongi's throat is comedic— half scoff and half snort. "Stupid ponytail," he grumbles, probably not intending for the nurse to hear.

Taehyung thinks it's funny how Yoongi says this. He thinks it's nice to have the elder teasing him half-heartedly rather than going straight for the throat as he's been known to do.

But mostly, he's just glad that Yoongi is ok— a little banged up, but ok.

"Can you please hurry up," Yoongi spits out suddenly, scaring a little girl and her family on the sidewalk nearby.

Taehyung grimaces, picking up his pace a little in an effort to appease his patient. "Yoongi-ssi, I know it's cold, but I really shouldn't go any faster. You cant be jostled around too much because of the bruising—"

"Taehyung! Just fucking run!" Yoongi snaps, shifting in his seat to look back at the nurse. His eyes are dilated and his face is red and puffy. He's pouting, probably trying to appear intimidating, but the medication has rendered him about as scary as a puppy.

It's cute.

He's cute.

Like Yoonji, his brain corrects.

The face is cute because it belongs to Yoonji.

"I'm not running." Taehyung stands his ground, though it earns him a withering glare from his patient. He giggles at this, bobbing his ponytail around and it only further aggravates the elder.

Yoongi huffs and rights himself in his seat. He's shivering again and yes, it's cold, but they're almost to the parking lot.... "Stop!" he tells out suddenly, pointing towards the street.

Taehyung immediately freezes. The chair rolls to a stop and in the split second that the nurse lets go to focus on what Yoongi is pointing at, the elder grabs the wheels of his chair and takes off.

"Yoongi!" Taehyung shouts, stunned. It takes him a few seconds to process that his patient is running away before his body reacts and he goes chasing after.

For an injured man, Yoongi is fast. Clearly he's familiar enough with his chair that he knows how to race in it, and his arms are nothing but a blur as he rockets down the sidewalk. Taehyung has to apologize to several pedestrians and one cat as he gives chase. By the time he reaches the parking lot, Yoongi is already talking to the valet.

"What the fuck are you doing? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

The valet boy recoils at Taehyung's voice but then he scurries off to get the car. Yoongi merely snorts in derision as he waits by the valet stand.

"You weren't going fast enough," his patient replies, as if it were obvious.

Taehyung doubles over, trying to suck in a lungful of air. "What if you would've fallen over again? What if you rolled out in front of traffic? You've got to be more careful, Yoonji!"

"What did you just call me?" Yoongi is staring at him now, eyebrows furrowed together under his piecey black bangs. When Taehyung merely stares back in confusion, Yoongi crosses his arms. "You called me Yoonji. Seriously, you can't even get my name right? Jimin said you were a professional but I don't see it."

"I saved your life!" Taehyung retorts, feeling unusually defensive. Why is it that this particular client is so incredibly good at getting under his skin? And did he really just call Yoongi by the name of his first love? "How much more professional can I get?"

Yoongi scoffs, watching the car being pulled into view. "I wasn't even dying. You brought me here while I was taking a nap basically," he looks back over to Taehyung flippantly. "So thanks for that, I guess."

Wow.

Did he just—

Yoonji would never act this way.

That's the first thought that pops into his head and Taehyung is instantly ashamed.

Why does he keep comparing the two? How could he slip up and call his patient by his lover's name?

Before he can even fathom what is going on his mind, the valet pulls the car up and Taehyung helps a grumpy Yoongi into the vehicle, careful not to overstep his boundaries. The wheelchair gets folded and placed into the trunk with just as much care. They pull out onto the crowded road and neither makes a move to turn the radio on.

It's silent and uncomfortable.

"Are you going to call Jimin and tell on me?" Yoongi asks suddenly, voice dripping with distaste.

Taehyung swallows hard and switches lanes. The city lights flicker by as they head home. "Tell on you? No, but Jimin-hyung does need to hear about this even if it doesn't look good for me as your caretaker."

With a snort, Yoongi leans over to rest his head against the window. His breath fogs up the glass. "He knows I'm stubborn so he won't be surprised."

It's not exactly an insult, Yoongi telling him not to worry about looking incapable, but it's not exactly a comforting reply either. Taehyung purses his lips in thought before he chances a glance over at his patient. Yoongi has his eyes closed shut, lips parted in ecstasy, and Taehyung figures that the cool glass of the window probably feels soothing against his head wound.

"Still, I failed as a nurse," he reasons, hating the truth as it flies out of his mouth. "It's my job to let him know and I— I should probably step aside and let someone else care for you."

This grabs Yoongi's attention, and Taehyung hears the elder swear under his breath when he looks over too quickly, making his head spin. "Quitting already? I must be pretty bad to make all those damn fake tattoos not seem worth it."

Taehyung actually laughs at this, the humor in the other's tone unexpected. He can feel Yoongi glaring at him, however, so he quickly composes himself. It's odd, but Yoongi should be feeling rather smug right about now but instead he seems angry that the nurse is considering quitting. Hasn't he been trying to get rid of Taehyung this whole time?

"It's actually not about you," he admits slowly, trying to ignore Yoongi's inquisitive stare. "I just don't think I'm the right fit for you."

The car plunges into a silence so thick with tension that Taehyung has to shift in his seat just to distract himself.

"Not the right fit.... for me?" Yoongi repeats, his voice low and dangerous. Taehyung recognizes that tone. He had heard it right before Yoongi blew up on him earlier in the day. He braces himself for the worst. "What the fuck does that mean? Is this too hard for you?"

"Too hard? No, Yoongi-ssi, you don't even seem to like me and I know it's not just because you don't want someone to replace Jimin-hyung. It's like you actually hate me and I can tell that I'm causing you stress if you feel the need to try to do things without me, so I think it's best if I—"

"Oh, it's because I'm scared," Yoongi spits. He's staring a hole into the side of the nurse's head. "That's right, I got it."

Taehyung sputters. "I said this wasn't about you—"

"How the fuck could it not be about me? I'm paying you a fuck ton of money to watch me and after a few days, it's suddenly not working out? 'It's not you', my ass." Yoongi looks away suddenly and Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief, that is, until Yoongi continues on. "What, did that girlfriend of yours use that line on you too? Does it feel good to use it on somebody else?"

Taehyung is honestly rendered speechless for a moment, driving through Seoul with a stranger who pulls no punches. He glances over at his patient. "What?" he gasps out, then, "She—"

"No wonder you're alone," Yoongi spits and there's venom in his words but not in his eyes. No, his eyes just look empty and forlorn and Taehyung knows what he's doing, he knows that Yoongi is lashing out on purpose, but he can't help but fall for the bait.

Because Yoongi isn't the only one that's in pain.

"My girlfriend didn't leave me," Taehyung clarifies, pulling up to a crowded stoplight. The red hue fills the vehicle and colors their faces. He turns to look Yoongi pointedly in the eye. "She died of cancer. I took care of her the last six months of her life." He pauses then, gritting his jaw. Yoongi just stares back at him, bewildered. "So no, I never got the chance to hear her reject me because I was too busy watching her fade away."

The light turns green and Taehyung may push on the accelerator a little too hard. For someone with such a biting retort, Yoongi finally has nothing to say the rest of the way home.

When they pull into the apartment complex's parking garage, Taehyung is quick to park the car and pull Yoongi's chair out of the back. He helps his patient into it silently and even on the long elevator ride to the penthouse, neither dares to speak.

It's perfectly fine with Taehyung, who has descended into a rather sour mood. He rarely talks about Yoonji, especially with strangers, and he has no idea what possessed him to throw her in his patient's face. What did he hope to accomplish with this? Sure, it had silenced Yoongi's verbal abuse, but besides that, would good has it done?

Frowning, Taehyung scolds himself for once again fucking up his professionalism. He shouldn't care so much that this one patient dislikes him— it was bound to happen sooner or later— but Yoongi is different.

Yoongi reminds Taehyung of someone he desperately wishes was still here. Yoongi is a masochistic pleasure despite actually being a pain in the ass. Somewhere deep inside Taehyung, he actually believes that if he can redeem himself with Yoongi, then he can make it up to Yoonji for her final days.

For the days that her parents kept him away and she needed him.

For the day when her closest friends and family gathered to honor her memory and he stayed home, screaming into his pillow because he was warned to stay away.

Yes, it's a sick realization, but Taehyung isn't surprised really. He's been searching for a purpose ever since she left this world— he just didn't realize he would be willing to be such a martyr for a man that wears her delicate features.

Yoongi was given a sponge bath at the hospital by request, and Taehyung tries not to be bitter about the fact that his patient felt safer with a stranger than with him. Though, he supposes he too, is a stranger, but he just can't fathom why Yoongi treats him with such distain.

"You can't go to bed for the next twelve hours, so what do you want to do?" Taehyung asks as he pushes Yoongi into the foyer and locks the door behind them. He flicks the lights on and several stylish overhead track lights come to life above them.

Yoongi sighs deeply and rubs his temples as if he's thoroughly annoyed with the question. "Depends, are you going to watch me for all twelve hours?"

"I'm not going to hover over you, but I'd like to make sure you don't fall into a coma from your concussion, so yeah," Taehyung replies honestly.

"How thoughtful," Yoongi quips back before heading towards the living room. He stops in front of the couch and grabs the remote from the coffee table.

Taehyung watches the elder flick through several channels before selecting some variety show, and then, much to his irritation, Yoongi uses his upper body to pull himself out of his chair and onto the couch. It takes him a minute to situate himself with his limp legs dangling over the edge, but once he does, he looks over to Taehyung with a smirk.

Ignoring the obvious attempt to rile him up, the nurse goes to sit on the opposite end of the couch. He fiddles with his hands while Yoongi searches for something to watch. "What shows do you like?" he finally asks after a few moments.

Yoongi sighs. "Does it matter?"

"I like dramas," Taehyung offers, hoping that they can at least have one normal conversation over the next twelve hours. Anything to convince him that he didn't make the wrong choice choosing this job. He knows they should be talking about the incident, but that can wait for another day, or if Taehyung does leave, then they never have to sour things even further.

Yoongi lets out a little breathy laugh. "Of course you do. You're probably a sap for all that romance bullshit."

"Do you really think it's bullshit?" Taehyung finds himself asking, only because Yoongi's tone of voice belayed one thing but his eyes said another.

"It's all bullshit," Yoongi replies curtly.

Taehyung follows up with another question, then another comment about the variety show playing on the tv, but Yoongi coldly ignores him. After two hours of static silence, he finally gets the hint.

"I'll be in the dining room working on paperwork to find a new caretaker for you," the nurse tells Yoongi before walking off. He's trying extremely hard not to blow up on his patient, but being constantly undermined and ignored has him back on edge.

It's one thing to have a bad work relationship or a clash of personalities, but what Yoongi is doing is intentional and spiteful despite whatever deep rooted insecurities he may have. Not only that, but his attempts at besting Taehyung could actually lead to physical harm and Taehyung is man enough to admit when he needs to step away for the good of the client.

It really was a stupid idea to force his way into this job. He saw Yoongi's face and he allowed himself to be caught up in a past that has no place in his future. At this point, he's practically delusional. Yoongi probably doesn't even really look much like Yoonji anyway and Taehyung is just projecting his loneliness and need for closure onto someone in the strangest way ever.

Sitting at the kitchen table, the nurse knows he'll have to call Jimin tomorrow morning, but for tonight, he tries to distract himself from his frustration by going through all of the colleagues he believes would be suitable for Yoongi. He has several ideas of great nurses, but he hesitates when he has their emails pulled up. Wouldn't exposing Yoongi to more strangers hurt him even worse? He's obviously unstable. Would it even be best to leave this job after only a few days?

He recalls the way Yoongi had looked at him earlier this morning as he was helping him get dressed— the look of pure shame, of fear. Taehyung had inspired that in his patient and that was the last emotion he wanted someone to feel in his presence. He would never let himself do anything to make Yoonji feel that way, and wasn't he trying to honor her memory by working in this field?

He has to quit.

He owes it to Yoonji, to Yoongi, and to himself.

Sometimes things just aren't meant to work out.

Just as Taehyung finishes typing out a descriptive email to Woonjae— one of his favorite colleagues— explaining Yoongi's situation, a peculiar noise reaches his ears.

It's been about another hour and Taehyung has yet to check on Yoongi, so he slowly rises from his chair and makes his way into the living room. Yoongi is no longer in front of the tv, but he has gotten himself back into his chair and is currently seated in front of the grand piano.

He's playing.

It's beautiful.

Taehyung feels his jaw drop as he takes in the sight, the way Yoongi's long fingers move over the keys with such ease, the way his eyes are shut, lashes fanned out over the swell of his cheeks. The melody flows from him without much effort, not one note turning sour.

Taehyung has seen this before.

He watched Yoonji practice enough times to memorize how she moved, the way the music came from some deep part of her that no one could ever touch. He's seen it before and now he's seeing it again.

And it's amazing, how Taehyung can even begin to look at another human being the way he looked at Yoonji, but he's starting to. And it's a testament to the guilt and shame he still feels when he forces himself to look away and send the email typed out on his phone.

He can't stay here.

Yoongi isn't Yoonji.

And more than that, Yoongi is a man and so is Taehyung.

Whether it be brotherly affection he's seeking, or a different bond all together, Taehyung knows there's nothing natural about the situation he's found himself in.

————————

Something is pissing Yoongi off.

He's not entirely sure what it is yet, but it's lurking at the edges of his slumber. After a few more moments of drowsy confusion, Yoongi regains his lucidity enough to register that he's in his bed and that there's a noise in the distance that won't stop.

Ringing.

Someone is ringing the doorbell repeatedly.

With a groan, he rolls himself over and curses as pain shoots up from his hip, and the memory of the hospital visit with Taehyung comes rushing back to him.

How could he forget?

He felt humiliated and ashamed that his plan to gain a little independence had failed so severely. All he wanted to do was take a damn shower and yet he ended up in a far worse situation than being nude and soapy in front of his new nurse. Taehyung had found him unconscious, injured, and nude.

It was absolutely mortifying and definitely not something Yoongi wants to relive again. It was even worse when he had woken up in the hospital and his dry eyes had landed on Taehyung, and the nurse had looked so distraught, as if Yoongi wasn't just a paycheck, as if he was something more.

But he's not. He's just money with a face and that's all he'll ever be to people like Taehyung.

The ringing of the doorbell intensifies in both volume and frequency and Yoongi turns to the alarm clock. It's only eight in the morning, which means he's only been asleep for two hours— Taehyung made sure that Yoongi stayed up the entire twelve hours as recommended by the doctor for his mild concussion.

It had been a bitch, but Yoongi was on enough medication to forget about his aversion to the expensive piano in his living room and had found himself lost in the music for the first time in years. He was so focused on playing that the hours had slipped by easily; he wasn't even aware of what Taehyung had done during that time. He had only seen the nurse when it was time for bed and they worked together to dress him appropriately with weary faces.

Thankfully, yesterday's incident hadn't come up; they had been much too tired for that.

A door opens down the hall and Yoongi can hear Taehyung stumble out of his room to answer the front door. Hobi won't come to clean until after lunch, it's not Seokjin's day to cook, and he assumes Jungkook has already been informed of the canceled therapy session. That leaves Yoongi and Taehyung alone with another for the day— well, them and the unexpected guest.

Yoongi is pulling himself into his chair when he hears the front door open. The low murmur of Taehyung's voice drifts up the stairs followed by the deeper intone of the guest. From here, Yoongi can't even begin to guess who it might be, but he's curious about who would come at such an early hour.

Gritting his teeth, he endures the pain crawling up his side- a mixture of bruising near his ribs and nerve pain from the parts of his pelvis that struggle to regain feeling. While his legs are still useless, he can at least feel a pressure in the tops of his thighs and on good days, he can actually feel sensation above them, including in his more delicate areas.

By the time Yoongi rolls out of his room and out onto the second floor balcony, Taehyung has completely engaged the guest in heated discussion. There's no mistaking the deep rasp mixing in with the nurse's smooth voice—

Yoongi sighs and pushes himself closer to the banister to overlook the main room. "Abeonim, why are you here?" he questions wearily.

The argument below comes to a stop. Taehyung stares up at the balcony with round, wide eyes while Yoongi's father looms large, an imposing presence in a crisp suit. The situation is already irritating Yoongi, but the fact that his nurse had answered the door shirtless does not bode well for how it will develop.

"Yoongi-yah, you're here," his father states sardonically, gazing over occasionally to judge Taehyung from his peripheral. "Imagine my surprise when I received a call from one of your mother's colleagues informing me that my son is not in Japan as I was told, but rather that he was just admitted to the E.R."

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes away from the balcony and makes his way over to the chair lift. He secures himself in it and slowly it begins to descend. Awkwardly, he maintains eye contact with his father as it does so. "I came back early and had a minor accident." He points to the stitches on his head.

"Really? Well why didn't you visit your mother's hospital? Do you understand how this makes her look?" His father is glowering while fidgeting with the lapels on his jacket.

Yoongi doesn't respond until he reaches the first floor and rolls out of the lift. He's careful to keep distance from both his fuming father and bewildered caretaker. "I'm sorry, but I was busy trying not to die," he quips dramatically. "Next time I'm unconscious, I'll be sure to consider my mother's reputation first."

Scoffing, his father shakes his head before continuing his chiding. It's as if he doesn't even hear Yoongi sometimes; that, or he only hears what he wants. "You weren't taken by ambulance, so I'm assuming Jimin-ah brought you in? He knows better as well."

Yoongi opens his mouth to explain but a deep voice interrupts him.

"Actually, sir, I took him," Taehyung clarifies, still standing there shirtless without a care in the world. In the early morning sunlight pouring through the windows, his skin is golden caramel and the expanse of his abdomen is neither toned nor doughy. It's just smooth and somewhat mesmerizing.

"Ah yes, what did you say your name was? Taehyun?"

"Taehyung, sir. Kim Taehyung."

Yoongi's father doesn't look impressed. He eyes the nurse with obvious distain before turning back to Yoongi and ignoring the other completely. "So Taehyung here took you? Was that before or after a dinner to 'catch up'? Or are you past using that excuse now?"

"Excuse me?" Taehyung questions, brows furrowed, but his inquisition is ignored.

"Abeonim—"

"No, Yoongi, I really don't want to hear it. I honestly thought this phase of yours would end after a few years but you insisted on pushing me," Yoongi's father persists, boring into his son with cold, unblinking eyes. "And after the.... accident, I figured you had lost your appeal to these men, but I forget that money talks."

"Appa, what the fu—"

The man turns to address Taehyung once more. "How much were you hoping to get out of him, hmm? Thought you would indulge in some pleasure with him and that maybe you could worm your way into the company or did you just want pretty things?"

Taehyung flushes red and the sight would be amusing to Yoongi if he wasn't growing increasingly more pissed with every word falling out of his father's mouth. "Uh, I don't understand..."

"How much do I need to give you to make you go away?" Yoongi's father reaches into his pocket and retrieves a money clip with a rather thick stack of won. He pulls out several high-numbered bills and offers it to the nurse between two fingers. "Take it and leave."

"Sir, I'm not—"

"You're going to leave," Yoongi's father intones, shaking the money in Taehyung's face. "Was it not enough to engage my son in whatever sordid things you people like? You had your way with him and now I'm paying you off. Be grateful and leave."

Yoongi has heard enough. Even though he's not particularly fond of Taehyung at this moment, he knows what it's like to be spoken down to by an asshole as big as his father and he certainly cannot sit by and let this man prattle on about how sickening he finds his son's sexual preferences.

"Abeonim," he grits his teeth, "he's not—"

"Yoongi-ssi," Taehyung speaks up suddenly, turning his entire attention to his employer. "What would you like for breakfast? You need to eat before taking your medication." The nurse's face is warm and he gives Yoongi a knowing smile, a boxy little grin. "Also, your therapy session has been rescheduled for tomorrow. Is that alright?"

Despite his fury, Yoongi feels himself smiling back. Taehyung might be odd and he may grate on Yoongi's nerves, but the man is nowhere near dumb. "That sounds great, and I would like my usual, but we can wait until after our guest leaves."

"Yes, Sir." Taehyung even bows and Yoongi has to admit, it's a nice touch.

"Oh, father, this is my new nurse, Kim Taehyung. He is helping me while Jimin-ah is away in Busan."

His father's reaction is certainly amusing, a mixture between shock and obvious embarrassment, but then the man schools his expression into the hard stoicism that Yoongi is all too familiar with. He doesn't even apologize. "You let the help run around nearly nude?"

"I do when they're woken up suddenly without explanation," Yoongi retorts. "Is there something that you wanted?"

His father narrows his eyes and clears his throat. "Well, I'm here to talk to you about an important matter. Your brother has decided that he wants to extend his military service beyond his required duty."

"He did mention that when I last spoke to him," Yoongi states dryly.

"Yes, it's very noble. Anyways, because of this, I can no longer name him as active heir to the company and your mother insists that I still consider you."

Yoongi snorts loudly, catching Taehyung off-guard. The nurse is still watching the conversation with wide eyes. "Well, I would hate to put you out. I know how you deem me as unfit."

"Well, it apparently doesn't matter anymore. An heir with no legs is better than no heir at all."

At this, Yoongi frowns deeply. He's staring his father down but he feels every inch the tiny child who used to take this man's verbal and physical assaults on a daily basis. He almost misses those seething rants; somehow this subtle disgust is far worse. Glancing away, he notices Taehyung is oddly stiff and wearing a look of complete disbelief. He must not be used to this kind of parental "love" and Yoongi hates him for it.

"Was there a point you wanted to make, Abeonim?"

The man hums for a moment before nodding. "Ah, yes. I would like to announce your position as active heir to the company at the annual gala, but I have a request of you prior to the event."

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow in interest. His father hasn't invited him to any company events ever since the accident. He's even heard that he's been removed from the company's books, website, and most internet articles. He's the crippled skeleton in his father's large, luxury closet.

Clearing his throat, his father eyes him pointedly. "I know you've been upset because of what happened, but honestly, there's more you could be doing. I didn't get to where I am today because I remained complacent with how things were; I adapted and overcame what I thought were impossible tasks. That being said, I've found a surgeon in Europe who specializes in cases like yours. There's an experimental surgery that he believes can help you walk again. You get the surgery, and I'll walk you out in front of my shareholders as my heir. If not, then I'll just have to accept that you wish to no longer be a part of the Min lineage."

"What?" Yoongi feels his mouth grow dry. He doesn't understand. Is his father giving him an ultimatum? If he gets this surgery then he can have his father's love and approval, and if not, then it all just disappears? Will he be disowned?

Behind his father, Taehyung is grimacing, shifting on his feet. His wide, brown eyes are boring into Yoongi and there's deep-rooted concern there, the type of concern Yoongi has only ever seen reflected in Jimin's eyes.

"I'll send you the details of the surgeon's practice as well as the experimental surgery," his father continues on, glancing at his watch. He looks up at Yoongi then. "I'm sure you won't disappoint me."

Then the man is turning on his heel and approaching the front door. He casts one last glance over his shoulder as he touches the handle. "It was nice to meet you, Taehan. I wish you luck graduating medical school. Hopefully my son can teach you some things that will prove helpful when you move on to your first real job."

The door closes with click and Yoongi lets out a breath, though he actually feels like screaming. He looks over to Taehyung and finds the nurse scowling at the front door.

"Well, he's a dick."

Taehyung's bold statement catches Yoongi off-guard. He blanches for a few seconds before a laugh bubbles up from his throat. "I always use the term 'asshole', but that works too," he replies with mirth.

Smiling, the nurse runs his hands through his mop of bleached hair and sighs. He turns to Yoongi and he scrunches up his face as if conflicted. "Um, I know it's not really my place to ask this but— He thought I was a one night stand, didn't he?"

It had been painfully obvious what Yoongi's father thought Taehyung was, but for the sake of conversation, Yoongi nods. He's already pissed at the early morning intrusion, the last thing he needs is his employee turning out to be a homophobic dick as well.

"Oh," Taehyung breathes out, looking anywhere but at his patient. "That's just... unexpected. I mean, I read about you and—"

Yoongi snorts. "And you automatically assumed I was labeled as a playboy because I got so much pussy?"

"W-Well I wasn't going to put it like that," Taehyung sputters, obviously uncomfortable. His tan visage is blooming red.

Yoongi figures that if he's going to lose an employee because of such a stupid issue, he might as well put everything out there. "Yeah, I got lots of ass back in the day. Had these wild fucked up parties where I eventually gave up counting how many people ended up in my bed. It was that, or the drugs made everything hazy. But to answer your real question, I was with women for the media's sake but I like men."

"Ah, I see." Taehyung is staring down at the extravagant rug beneath his bare, caramel-colored feet.

"But fortunately for my father, men don't really like the whole shriveled-up legs thing, even if my ass is still tight, so...." Yoongi trails off in favor of watching the nurse's reaction.

Taehyung is blushing. "You're, uh, pretty blunt about this."

"You're leaving anyway, right?" Yoongi reasons. "Something about you not being a 'good fit' for me?"

Taehyung purses his lips and frowns. He brings his arms up to cover his bare chest as if he's suddenly aware of it. "Does he always talk to you that way?"

"My father?" Yoongi raises a brow. "Yeah, he basically hates me but he doesn't trust the company with people who aren't family, so, lucky me."

"Do... other people talk to you that way, like outside on the street?" Taehyung is staring at him now, his hair falling into his face, obscuring those thick black brows that Yoongi finds ridiculous and appealing at the same time. All he can think about in this moment is why do you care?

"Yeah, sometimes. Either that or they just act like I don't exist." Yoongi cocks his head and looks the nurse over. "Hey, are you really not going to comment on the fact that I'm gay?"

Taehyung sputters. "S-Should I?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Should it?"

"Stop answering my questions with more questions."

Taehyung is silent for a moment, something like shame or guilt flickering across his face. He sucks in a deep breath before replying. "You shouldn't feel pressured to do a surgery like that," he finally says, looking up at Yoongi. "Just because he's your father doesn't mean he has your best interest in mind."

"I'm aware," Yoongi deadpans. "I've lived with him my whole life."

"So... what are you going to do?"

Yoongi doesn't answer. He doesn't want to think about it right now, and he's sure as hell not discussing his daddy issues with a near stranger that's determined to leave him. Instead, he shrugs before flicking off the brake on his chair and making his way towards the dining room. Now that he's awake, he's fucking hungry. He'll just go back to sleep later, he reasons.

He looks back at Taehyung briefly, only find the nurse frowning down at his phone. "Something wrong?" Yoongi drawls sarcastically.

Taehyung snaps his head up. "Oh, it's... nothing. I just got a reply email about something." He swallows visibly and sighs. "Hey, look, I know I said that I didn't think this was going to work out but—"

"I knew it," Yoongi interrupts with a dark chuckle as he continues towards the dining room. "You're staying now because you feel bad for me after watching my father practically degrade me. Have you always been such a martyr, Taehyung?"

"Only for people I care about," the nurse replies.

Yoongi stops rolling, his hands perched on the rims of his wheels.

What?

"But in this case, I asked around and there's no one that can replace me on such short notice," Taehyung explains. "I don't want to break my commitment to Jimin-hyung while he's already having a tough time either."

"Right, you wouldn't want to break any promises," Yoongi mutters under his breath.

"What?" Taehyung questions, and Yoongi looks back to find that the nurse is genuinely invested in what he had to say.

Casting his gaze away from the man with the beautiful golden skin, Yoongi finds that he's suddenly lost all the fire in his words. He doesn't know what to say, let alone think, not when Taehyung looks at him like that, like he cares.

Not when there's a part of him that is happy he won't have to say goodbye to yet another person in his life.

"It's..... nothing."

And it is, Yoongi tells himself. It's nothing.

At least, it's supposed to be.

"So, I guess I'm staying then."

Yoongi glances over his shoulder again to find Taehyung smiling his stupid boxy grin, shirtless, with his hair a fucking mess. At least he doesn't have that dumbass ponytail, he thinks.

Out loud, he says, "Let me find a container for my joy," before snorting with laughter all the way into the dining room.