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The moment someone starts pounding on the front door, Taehyung knows he’s made a grave mistake.
It all started with the fact that his grandfather had lung surgery two months ago and ever since, his breathing has been a bit shallow and short. The doctors said it was completely normal and that he shouldn’t be exposed to any form of physical activity that could possibly harm him. Given the fact that his grandfather has been following the doctor’s instructions very well, there was no need to worry anymore. And yet, Taehyung’s always been a little too cautious for his own good.
So, when he got back home from grocery shopping and saw him peacefully sleeping on the couch in the living room, he carefully set the bag on the floor and tiptoed to him. With his heart slowly picking up, Taehyung swallowed and leaned down to check his breathing.
One, two, three…
He counted to ten. And even though his left ear was right above his grandfather’s mouth, dark eyes staring at his chest, he didn’t hear nor see anything.
And he panicked, alright.
Not even a second lasted till his mind wailed like a siren and his fingers started fumbling with his phone to dial 112. A stoic voice of an emergency services operator answered him after two signals and– well. Taehyung doesn’t remember much from their conversation. Although, it really doesn’t take a genius to know that he was too stressed not to blurt out something completely ridiculous as if it was his first time calling 112 (it was).
The lady on the phone tried her best to calm him down and patiently guide him to all the answers she needed. He meekly cooperated, naturally, because it wasn’t in his business to make the lady’s life harder than it already was. Besides, his grandfather wasn’t breathing. Therefore, she asked questions, he replied and it went on like this for a while; that’s exactly how Taehyung ended up standing in the middle of his living room with the phone line dead and a “stay calm, sir, I’ll send an ambulance right away” repeating in his head.
Except that it apparently wasn’t needed, because his grandfather mumbled something and turned to his side, completely unaware of Taehyung’s distress.
The way his heart rate went from a furious pace to a complete stop could totally be called a mini seizure, or that’s what Taehyung likes to tell himself to justify his unnecessary actions. He forced himself to hover over his grandfather’s face again, with eyebrows frowning and lips wavering, before he managed to reach one conclusion: he’s very much alive and breathing.
That was about five minutes ago. Now, Taehyung is crouching in front of the sofa and his sleeping grandfather (he still hasn’t moved an inch except for the immediate fail of his legs to keep him upright) with his face in hands while someone – possibly a paramedic that came here to help – is banging on the front door.
(The thing is, he wasn’t sure what to do with this newfound information about his grandfather’s health, so he just kind of… didn’t do anything. He contemplated calling 112 again to let them know about his mistake, true, but it seemed bothersome. And he definitely didn’t want to be a bother.
Pause. Wouldn’t coming here for naught be nothing but trouble for the paramedics, too? What if someone really needed them just when they’d show up at Taehyung’s front door? This single thought has made his anxiety rise up so much it screwed him into the damn spot. That is, until he heard shouting and banging and utter chaos outside as if he was in the middle of a war zone or a crossfire. Maybe both. Isn’t all of that in his head anyways?)
“Is anybody there?” The banging has gotten louder again and that’s enough to cancel Taehyung’s inner turmoil. “Please, open the door, it’s the medical services!” The guy yells out, still composed (what?), and Taehyung starts wondering just how in hell all these people sound so damn lethargic with jobs like that.
Scrambling to his feet, he reaches the front door in three big leaps, with clammy palms and heart in his throat, yanking it open. Or rather, trying to, because Taehyung totally forgot he’s locked it when he came back. So the door does open, but stops after the chain of the upper lock blocks its further movements. Oh, awkward. He really didn’t mean to slam it right back in the paramedic’s face, but he does it anyway to get the door properly.
By the time he manages, he’s very sure his cheeks are in flames. And the paramedic’s entire appearance certainly doesn’t help.
Because, for the love of everything that’s holy, the man is gorgeous. He’s all tanned complexion, high-bridged nose, strong jaw, chestnut hair, and Christ, those eyes. Black, pitch black, swallowing Taehyung whole, framed by a pretty set of lashes and thick, arched eyebrows. His (cherry, my fucking God) lips are slightly downturned, and there are dark bags under his eyes, but he looks perfect nonetheless. Taehyung would really like to spend an eternity more just to admire the beauty in front of him but he figures out it’s best if he explains the situation first.
With that in mind, he clears his throat and speaks up: “I’m so sorry, mister paramedic, this is a mess– I mean, a mistake– because my—”
He’s not even given a chance to finish because thick (long, calloused, attractive) fingers clasp around his shoulder and gently push him back. The pretty paramedic steps forward and Taehyung automatically moves back, letting him enter his apartment.
“It needs to wait, sir.” The tone of his voice is crystal clear – there’s no room for further discussion. And Taehyung, like a lovesick fool, obliges, following the man into the living room with hearts in his eyes. He watches him close the distance between the front doors and the sofa in record time, then carefully hover over his (sleeping) grandfather to examine him.
The paramedic checks his breathing, then pulse, and finally grabs him by the shoulder to turn him onto his back. That’s when Taehyung mentally decks himself in the face and decides to speak, for fuck’s sake, he needs to communicate.
“He’s– he’s only sleeping!” is what leaves his mouth and believe him when he says that he didn’t want to sound so whiny. He didn’t. It may not have been the case earlier, but now Taehyung’s really on the verge of tears. Out of embarrassment or panic, he really doesn’t know. It’s hard to get a damn grip when a godlike guy suddenly stares at him like he’s just grown a second head. An equally braindead head, Taehyung presumes.
“What?” The paramedic asks, and it really doesn’t even sound like a question. Not even a regular sentence. If Taehyung had to describe it, he’d probably go for ‘a yell that’s not really one because the guy’s bending over backwards to maintain his patience’.
“He’s sleeping,” Taehyung echoes and almost breaks down crying right then and there. The silence that follows is deafening, and Taehyung wants the ground to swallow him whole. What exactly spurred him to handle things completely on his own, he doesn’t know. “I’m really sorry, oh God, you shouldn’t be there– I mean, I thought he wasn’t breathing and panicked and– and– ”
“Okay, okay. Calm down,” the guy, an angel, interrupts his dumb tumble of words that were meant to be an explanation. His expression is gentle, comforting in a way, and Taehyung immediately shuts up, lovestruck and enamored and all that stuff. “Take a deep breath first– yeah, that’s right,” he instructs him, praising him when Taehyung follows his words, fucking hell, “and tell me what happened.”
Taehyung wants to die for this man. Or god. Whatever that he is, really, because Taehyung would go after him to the ends of the earth if he asked him to.
“My grandpa had lung surgery very recently so sometimes, I get worried about him,” Taehyung starts, weirdly calm. The paramedic gives him a nod of encouragement, wordlessly telling him to go on. “I came back from grocery shopping and found him like this, on the couch. And when I checked his breathing and didn’t hear it, I kind of panicked. Actually, no, not kind of. I panicked. And I called you before thinking. And then he just– he just turned to the side and grunted! ” Taehyung shouts, outraged, as if his grandfather was a wanted criminal and just committed a first-degree murder.
The love of his life snorts. Doesn’t even attempt to hide it.
“I’m so sorry for causing trouble and taking your time,” Taehyung mewls out, quickly bowing down to hide the redness of his cheeks. He can feel them burn like alight torches. If this is his time to go to hell, he’ll accept it without any objections or complaints.
“That’s okay, don’t worry about it,” the angel laughs (Taehyung hears bells), waving his hand and finally straightening up to his full height. The dark bags under his eyes definitely don’t tell Taehyung the same thing, but that thought is quickly discarded once the paramedic continues: “I’m actually glad that you called, it was very responsible of you. Better safe than sorry, right?”
And then, he gives him the most charming smile that Taehyung’s ever seen, and just like that, the hopeless idiot is gone. If he isn’t the one to marry this man, his life will be actually pointless. Call him old fashioned but he was raised to serve his husband. He’s the one to clean the dishes and cook him food. He’ll do whatever he says because he is Taehyung’s husband and he makes the rules around the house. He owns him. Taehyung is his property. If he ever cheats on him it’s because he was lacking–
It’s not a surprise that Taehyung’s too busy thinking about going down onto one knee and proposing to him to hear the next words directed at him. He only notices that the paramedic is saying something when fingers snap in front of his face. There’s still a smile stretching the man’s cherry lips, but this time it’s rather smug, a goddamn smirk if you will, and Taehyung wants to scream and die right on the spot. He wishes he could take a picture and worship it every evening before he goes to bed.
“Come again?” He chokes out, suddenly feeling like he’s seriously missing out on some terribly important thing that’s just happened. The paramedic looks like he’s stifling another laugh, eyes narrowed and brows raised in amusement.
“I said, you’ll buy me a ring first, won’t ya, lover boy?”
It takes him a hot minute to understand. And when he does, he realizes that he’s fucking done it this time. It’s all over now. Taehyung literally had a brain fart and told him to marry him, aloud. Had he done a similar thing in the past, he would’ve known how to act afterward. Alas, given that he really hadn’t, Taehyung’s entire common sense just vanishes, leaving void and dust behind. Very suitable, if you ask him.
He’s covering his face with his hands before he knows it, and the muffled groan he lets out is anything but pleasant to his ears. Blaring flush blooms all over his cheeks once again, and Taehyung’s absolutely helpless, he cannot stop it. After all, here he is, mortifying himself for the nth time in front of the most attractive and lovable man in the entire world. The gods must be having a hard time holding back their disdain for him.
“Can I– Can I at least offer you some coffee? Or tea? Before you leave, of course,” he rushes to say, trying to put on a brave face and man up, god damn it. How can he even think about marrying this perfection of a man when he’s just a scrawny wimp like that.
The paramedic chuckles, crossing his (bulky, exposed) arms over his (equally buff!) chest. Taehyung’s gaze follows their movements and now he’s sure that he just cannot have one remotely good idea. Because the guy is wearing a black t-shirt that’s either very tight or two sizes too small for him and red uniform pants, the only thing informing Taehyung of his profession. The muscles on display make him want to cry and drool and spasm all at the same time and honestly speaking, it wouldn’t surprise him if he was the one to end up in an ambulance.
“Is that your way to keep me from leaving?” The paramedic asks, seemingly amused beyond words, judging by the playful glint in his eyes and the sly lift of his very kissable lips.
“No!” Taehyung hurries to answer, finally mustering the courage to look at him properly, without any of his fingers shielding his face. He gets a cocked eyebrow in response, which makes him blurt out more dumb stuff, to his utter disappointment. “Maybe. I mean, yes. Just– oh my God.”
The man flashes him a boyish grin, and shit, if Taehyung isn’t absolutely smitten already. He wants to ask for his name, tell him that he really craves to get to know him, just articulate anything and not stand here like he was petrified by a Gorgon, but he can’t. The remains of his sanity are glued to the beat of his heart, still fast and crazy, going thump thump over and over again until all of it short-circuits and stops working altogether. But somehow, the guy that his entire mind yearns for comprehends. He steps into Taehyung’s comfort zone, attentive and poised, and everything that Taehyung is not, causing his heart to rattle in his ribcage even more.
“I’m Jeongguk, and since it was the last call I took before my shift ended, I’ll gladly stay for a coffee. Or two, if you don’t mind.”