Chapter Text
Hospitals are one of the places that seem to exist outside the constricts of time. Like libraries, gas stations and 24-hour grocery stores. Namjoon thinks time is something that exists because humans decide that it does. Because humans need something to explain why day turns into another day and why it takes the length of— funnily— time it does. He thinks about daylight savings time and how humans are given the chance to adjust the time set in one place so that the world can run on the same count. Well, that's what he thinks. Namjoon groans out loud.
He hates— dislikes— thinking about things like this. He dislikes thinking like this. Thinking freely, without bounds or any organization, without the fear of judgement. Thinking that's more of a mosh pit filled with incoherent thoughts that he can't fully grasp with the limited knowledge he has. He dislikes thinking like this because sometimes he thinks of things that don't have answers. Things that just are. Things that don't need explanations to be ruled true. Things that only need to be accepted because they're already proven true.
Time to shut his office lights off. Giving his pale green ceiling a last look, he sighs. He'll need to read the charts for Jiyoon's physical check-up tomorrow. Considering who her physician is, it's probably detailed to the point where Namjoon would know of any physical injuries that could indicate how he could better their sessions. Breathing exercises, yoga, a stress ball, maybe one of those kinetic sand kits, a plant, swimming, running, abstract art, poetry? What would he suggest? Nothing? Everything? He hopes what he told her would lessen the weight on her shoulders. A support group? No, that would be too much. A support person? Me? Namjoon thinks to himself. Too personal, a small part of him disagrees.
Then his thoughts shift to dinner. He hasn't eaten an actual meal today. Would one still call it dinner if it's eaten during the odd hours of midnight? The qualifications of a midnight snack wouldn't even lessen his hunger so he doesn't accept that either. But calling it a dinner when it's already 1:16 AM doesn't really sit right with him. The chill is still somewhere in his chest. Also something that doesn't sit right with him. The door to his office is shut softly and locked with a satisfying click.
The walk towards the nurse's station is a quiet torture. The hum of slumber blankets the bright hospital corridors. The occasional night staff being the only ones able to glide through it. He feels it clutching at his shoulders. Feels it wanting to pull him under. A promise of rest and sleep and rest caressing his shoulders beneath the white doctor's coat he hasn't removed yet. He can sleep in the staff lounge, but he won't.
He needs to go home.
He wants to go home.
His plants need to be watered and chattered at and maybe they also need to be touched, and he doesn't want them to die of neglect. Namjoon would be so guilty and torn if his plants die of neglect. Namjoon fails to suppress a yawn. He stops walking to yawn some more and to rest his eyes for a few seconds. Putting his lamp on the dimmest setting and then walking through the brightly lit corridors is a bad idea. He acknowledges this but never learns it.
"Good evening, Soonyoung-ssi." Namjoon greets the blonde sitting at the nurse's station as he presses his thumb against their schedule machine. That's another 6 hours of overtime for him this week. "Any fun stories today? Anyone hitting on you? Any quarter life crisis within the shift?"
The nurse raises an eyebrow at the question. "Funny," the nurse, Kwon Soonyoung, says with a roll of his eyes. "To answer you, no. No. And yes."
Soonyoung sounds disgruntled. It must've been a fun shift then. Soonyoung shifts in his swivel chair and puts his hand over his mouth. As if protecting a million dollar secret.
Then the nurse starts talking.
"There was this good looking guy during my sixth hour who kinda looked like Dr. Min from Family Medicine? Oh, surprise story time. Yoongi-ssi once stopped me in the middle of a report to ask me about the sanctity of marriage and what the concept of it means to someone still chasing after their dreams. And— cause I was caught off guard— I told him I wasn't planning to have a family anytime soon but that I think it's a nice thought. Then he looked at me all weird in a sort of judging cat way? You know, the look. Now, I feel weird that I found someone who resembles him hot."
Namjoon shakes his head fondly. He feels a dimpled smile taking over his face. Yoongi's been his best friend since they met at a university rap battle. They did a diss rap for the last round then staggered to the nearest fast food chain after getting Yoongi's cash prize. Everything after that was history. It's something he had to let go but it's also something that Yoongi clutched close to his ribs. Namjoon still writes though, writing and erasing and scribbling and scratching out words. It makes him feel cleansed. A bit better. A bit lighter. A coping mechanism hidden between ink and loose-leaf pages of a tattered notebook. He's got so many words inside of him and he has to let them out, doesn't he?
"Ah," he mumbles. "Yoongi-hyung probably thought you were a good person, he likes gauging people's personalities like that. I think that guy's actually related to him? Was his name Jihoon? He's a cousin Yoongi-hyung hangs out with to make music."
Soonyoung gasps quietly. Namjoon adds this to the extensive collection of evidence he has on the nurse's ideal type. It's quite evident from their talks. The last Boyfriend— he gives everyone on their floor "chit chat" that everyone calls "counseling sessions" behind his back so he knows— was a drummer. The detailed sexual encounters and pounding Soonyoung told him about was enough to make Namjoon squirm and smack the nurse with a clipboard. Soonyoung learned after that to never tell the elder about his sex life unless he wanted a bruise on his face.
"Would you want me to ask Dr. Min for his cousin's number or would you rather do it yourself?"
Soonyoung pales at the thought of asking Dr. Min for something so personal. He might get asked about what he thinks of starting a family with his cousin. That's a talk he isn't ready for. Wouldn't be ready for even in the next five years. The nurse vehemently shakes his head before changing his mind.
"Fuck it. Dr. Min's gonna give me the birds and bees talk anyways." He looks Namjoon straight in the eye and says, "Dr. Kim...You said he hangs out with Dr. Min for music right? Here? Which means I'll probably see him again. I'll ask for his number myself."
Namjoon smiles at him from across the counter, nodding a little. He reaches out to ruffle the nurse's hair. A habit he developed from hanging out with Taehyung. Soonyoung lets out an annoyed huff and swats at Namjoon's hand with a pout. "Go home, Namjoon-hyung. Your eyebags are getting worse than Nurse Jeon's."
He fakes offense on Jungkook's behalf, but laughs at Soonyoung in thanks soon after.
He notes the switch from "Dr. Kim" to "Namjoon-hyung". He notes that everyone he works with does that small switch whenever they talk to him. He wonders what it's about. A signal for ending the conversation? They always did it when they wanted him to go home, to sleep, to eat, to take a walk, to breathe. Formal to casual. Wait. Wait. Were they trying to Pavlov him into taking care of himself? He needs more data, but he thinks he's right.
Huh. Maybe it's working because he remembers to schedule lunch, or at least brunch, with Taehyung and Yoongi. Try roping in the other Dr. Kim from the surgery department to go with them. Maybe he could get the kids to take a break from accepting shifts in the ER, too. Jimin and Jungkook work too hard despite their reputation of being the most easy-going nursing majors back in college. Yoongi might even invite Dr. Jung and his other colleagues. Maybe.
Namjoon presses the button for the ground floor of the building. His office is in the western wing of the rectangular hospital complex while the parking lot stood in the middle of it all. The elevator dings, signaling him that the journey tonight is done. He shuffles out of the building, waving at the old guard Mr. Seon as he passes by. He contemplates if he should visit Jungkook in the ER but thinks that he shouldn't bother the younger man at... 1:53 AM. 1:53, no, 1:54 AM now. Jeez. His stomach grumbles as if to remind him that he hasn't taken anything besides the five cups of coffee— an achievement, he usually drinks six cups a day— and the pack of stale crackers he got from his desk drawer.
The man fishes his keys out of his pocket and goes to his car. A second-hand but new-looking sedan he got as a gift from his siblings when he got accepted directly after his interview at the hospital. That's about a year ago now. He lightly shoves the seatbelt clasp in the lock, and inserts his car key. Running on a few hours of sleep, a highly probable caffeine high, and a pack of stale crackers, he drives out of the complex and stays alert for the nearest 24-hour grocery store.
The population on this side of Seoul is barely awake at nearing 2 AM. The drive is relatively peaceful. A lone biker here, a cat meowing there. Someone on a quick convenience store run, a group of someones gathering outside a chi-maek restaurant, someone walking their dog, someone holding hands with another someone. There are so many people in Seoul, so many people in Korea. He thinks again of Jiyoon. Jiyoon, who feels alone despite knowing there are multiple someones like her. Jiyoon, who feels alone despite knowing that her own therapist is someone like her. Namjoon thinks about himself and Jiyoon and all the people in that forum. Will he ever meet someone like him other than his patients? Someone other than the people in the forum? Namjoon thinks that the parts of Seoul near Itaewon or Myeongdong would probably be bustling at this hour as he pulls into the grocery store's parking lot. He wonders if there’s someone like him in Itaewon or Myeongdong.
Namjoon removes his white coat and necktie before leaving the car. Leaves the person who is Dr. Kim, 27, The Therapist, and reverts to Kim Namjoon, 27, Hungry and Sleep Deprived. He presses on his closed eyes for the seventh time that night, thick glasses almost falling off his face. I need a full day of sleep to be a functioning adult again but that's something I don't have the strength to indulge in.
He sends a sleepy smile to the guard by the automatic doors of Choi's 24/7 Mart. With the finesse of a newborn giraffe, he tries to grab a shopping basket. Crap. When will he not embarrass himself in public? He wishes he took the dinner invite Yoongi offered at the actual end of their shift. But he knows that his hyung would pry Namjoon’s worries from his own trembling desperate clutch. He never talks about his family to Yoongi. Heck, he doesn't talk to his family. It’s more like they talk at each other.
His father's birthday is coming-up. The two of them haven't been on the same page since Namjoon came out to them. Being asexual was one thing, something they thought would pass. A phase. Something they thought was just Namjoon going through a tough time because of his licensure exams. Then a minute later, Namjoon told his parents that he was also romantically attracted to men on top of his asexuality. His father called him words he never thought he'd hear from the old man's mouth.
He didn't know that he was staring absently at a pack of ramen noodles until a voice called out his name.
"Dr. Kim? Is that you?"
Well his doctor name. Not, like, "Namjoon" or something. Namjoon's head snaps up, looking straight at Jung Hoseok's tired yet still bright smile. Oh. Was the physician always this pretty or is Namjoon more sleep deprived than he thought? Hmm.
"Hey, Dr. Kim," Jung Hoseok's heart shaped mouth says. Namjoon notices the other man has a mole on his upper lip. "You've been staring at that pack of noodles for like... three minutes? Wait. Shit. That means I've been staring at you for three minutes."
Namjoon makes a...a sound. He didn't mean to. It's an ugly sound. An aborted noise crossed between a choking sound, a snort, and a giggle. Not cute at all. Oh my god, why am I thinking about being cute. This is hunger and sleep-deprivation and definitely not because of Jung Hoseok's pretty face. No, Kim Namjoon, stop. Pull yourself together.
By the time he stopped being a bumbling mess, which was only a few seconds mind you, Jung Hoseok with the fluffy blonde-ish hair and heart-shaped mouth was staring at him with an amused smile. Namjoon decides, fuck it, I already embarrassed myself why not add more. "I didn't say any of that aloud, right? The only sound I made was whatever that was, right? I'm sorry that you've seen me in this state. No one ever sees me when I'm like this and I'm so sorry you're the first one."
Now, Jung Hoseok is full on laughing. Holy shit, maybe God is real, Namjoon thinks again. Jung Hoseok stops laughing long enough to breathe in a lungful of air. Jung Hoseok reels himself back in, visibly composing himself. Cool cool cool cool cool, just be cool Namjoon.
"It's okay. It's 2 am and I understand that this is very weird considering that we've only talked to each other now despite being assigned the same patients." Jung Hoseok says in a bright tone. Voice lilting and flowing easily in the space between him and Namjoon. "Since we're talking— wait, do you want to talk?"
Namjoon startles again. He places his shopping basket on the floor and flails a hand around before saying, "Here? In aisle— wait what aisle even is this? You want to talk here at Choi's Mart? At...at 2 am? With me?"
Jung Hoseok nods, titling his head to the side. A soft smile is on his face. "Yep, doctor stuff. Sorry that I'm doing this after your shift."
"No! Sorry. No, it's fine. I haven't been checking on you just— waiting for the reports instead of going to your office. Sorry."
"Nah. Stop saying sorry, Dr. Kim. Yes, we're going to talk, you and me, in whatever aisle this is of Choi's Mart at 2 am. We always miss each other at the hospital," Jung Hoseok nods again, as if psyching himself up. "I just wanted to tell you that Jiyoonie seemed so upset during our check-up? We had to do breathing exercises for 15 minutes before her heart rate came back to normal. I was a bit scared that she'd faint."
"Uhm," Namjoon says, eyebrows set in a serious frown. He can't and will not out Jiyoon to anyone. "What do you know about our sessions? I can't— I can't tell you anything she hasn't told you herself."
Jung Hoseok wrings his hands over the handles of his shopping basket. He takes a deep breath and smiles sadly. "She came out to me, you know? This morning. She was shaking so much that I had to run around my work table so I could hold her,” Hoseok looks Namjoon straight in the eye, a determined frown placing itself on his face. "I told her I understand. That I understand. That I was so proud of her for having the courage and for trusting me with the knowledge of who she is. I felt like I was her older brother and not her doctor the moment she started sobbing. Do you think my hug helped? At least a bit?"
A tear slips out of Namjoon's left eye. He's... shocked per se, about the support the other doctor offered to one of his most personal. He’s upset about how Jiyoon feels and he’s glad that Jiyoon has people around her who know who she is. He swipes at his cheeks and takes a deep breath. His hands close on a phantom warmth. Namjoon thinks— decides that this chases out the cold pain in his chest. This being the conversation with Jung Hoseok at 2 am in a random aisle of Choi's Mart. He's surprised and relieved and so much more. Namjoon is warm. Underneath the too bright lights of this almost deserted grocery store, surrounded by hundreds of ramen packets, talking for the first time with someone like him.
"That... That definitely helped Jiyoon. She's strong you know? I wanted to hug her but I thought that asking her if she wanted a hug might startle her more. So, I'm glad you did. Thank you for doing that, Dr. Jung."
"Don't thank me." Hoseok mumbles. He looks away from Namjoon and to the floor. "I was just doing my job."
"No. You weren’t. You were doing what you think is part of your job, in its core was probably a huge amount of empathy. Some other doctor out there would just examine her while she cried, you know? Some other doctor would invalidate her. Some other doctor wouldn't prod her outside of what they deemed necessary to get the check-up results for a report. You’re human."
"Oh… Okay then. If you insist, Dr. Kim," Hoseok says, hand flying to the back of his neck in flustered acceptance. Hand still resting on his neck, he pouts a bit. An unconscious habit. "Sexual attraction is kinda weird though, speaking from a non-medical perspective. Like, an allosexual would see someone and think 'I want to have sexual intercourse with them'? But it's not inherently a biological truth for everyone seeing from Jiyoonie and me and many other people out there."
"Is this you coming out to me?" Namjoon accidentally spills. "No. That was rude, sorry."
Hoseok seems stunned but recovers quickly. He did mention it casually. Hoseok thinks that Namjoon believes in the act of coming out and proclaiming who you are wholeheartedly. He thinks the two of them could get along greatly. He wants the two of them to get along.
"Nah. Yes. Let's do this the right way. We're meeting as civilians right now and not as, you know, doctors."
Hoseok shakes his hands together as if dusting off the remains of their conversation from a few minutes before. A distorted voice from the speakers announces the time. "It's 2:33 AM on a 'starry-skyed' Tuesday morning. Have a good day ahead of you, dear shoppers."
Namjoon walks out of aisle seven. So, that's where we've been this whole time. He swings his basket of ramen, mumbling. "That was very twilight zone-y. Huh."
"Yeah," Hoseok says after a minute of silence. "I'm kind of creeped out by how much it reminds me of Twilight Zone. God. Do you have everything you need?"
Namjoon looks back and nods. “You?”
“Yup. So,” Hoseok’s eyes dart away and come back to staring Namjoon right in the eye. “What are your thoughts about iced americano and ramen at three in the morning?”