Work Text:
“Remind me to get more bandages,” you mumbled, pulling the last few out of the box. You felt Yoongi sigh against you, his wet hair dampening your t-shirt from where his head rested against your torso. He was sitting on the toilet in his joggers, his left arm tucked carefully into his side. You stood over him, his knees between your legs. “You want me to get Pororo, Line Friends, or Pikachu this time?”
“You can just buy the normal ones. Don’t spend the extra money to get the characters on them.” You patted his shoulder gently with his towel, making sure the area was completely dry.
You hummed, peeling off the backing of the first bandage and delicately placing it over the first suture. Hello Kitty waved up at you. “You know I can’t do that. You heal faster when it’s a cute character on the bandage. A five-year-old told me that once, and I’m inclined to believe him.” You stuck the second bandage on with a flourish.
With his good hand, Yoongi squeezed the back of your thigh. “You can buy the plain ones in bulk. We’re probably going to be doing this for a while. The kids’ ones are going to start getting expensive.”
When the third bandage was in place, you kissed the top of his head before forcing him to lean back to look at you. “Nothing is too expensive for my man.” You pinched his cheek quickly before reaching over and grabbing his shirt from where it sat folded on the vanity. It was one of your favorites on him–white, plain, with a v-shaped neckline, and it made him look so comfy when he wore it with his black joggers.
Gingerly, you helped Yoongi pull the sleeve on his arm and then the whole thing over his head, frowning as he winced with each slight movement. It had only been a few days since his surgery, and the doctor hadn’t been kidding when he said the pain medication he had prescribed was only to make the pain more tolerable. You helped him slip his sling on and adjust the immobilizer, strapping the velcro into place so it was snug, but not too tight.
“Ice pack?” You stepped away from him to throw out the empty box and the wrappings of the three Hello Kitty bandages now covering his sutures.
“Probably should.” You hovered in the bathroom doorway just long enough to see him stand up on his own before making your way into the living room to get his cold therapy machine ready. “You know you don’t have to do all this,” he called from the bedroom. He must’ve made a detour to grab something. “I’m 27. I can care for myself.”
You ignored the voice in the back of your mind that for a moment suggested that he didn’t want you there. You knew what he meant. The day of his surgery, you had driven him to the hospital, waited with him in pre-op, and then patiently sat in the waiting room with his mother during surgery. You had driven him back to your apartment, and the two of you had been cooped up together ever since. You had gone from staying over at the dorms or him staying at your apartment for only a day or so at a time to living together for the foreseeable future, and you were still getting used to each other’s habits.
You liked to help him. It made you feel useful. It made your heart hurt less when you saw him sitting pitifully on the couch knowing that you were taking care of him. Yoongi, on the other hand, was accustomed to being fiercely independent, and was still getting used to needing help with basic tasks.
But according to his nurse, your name was the first thing out of his mouth when he was coming out of the anesthesia, and he hadn’t stopped bothering her about when you could come see him until he was coherent enough to know what he was saying. He had stopped bugging her then, but you had seen the way his eyes lit up when you walked into his post-op recovery room behind his mom.
“I know you can. I happen to enjoy helping you.” You looked up from the machine just as he was walking into the living room, a blanket in his hand. The barest hint of a shy smile was on his lips.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want your help, more that he was still embarrassed. The two of you had been dating for nearly a year, and you were both comfortable with where your relationship was at, but there were still certain things that made him shy. Apparently, you taking care of him was one of those things.
Yoongi had wanted to go back to Daegu to stay with his parents while he recovered, but you had convinced him to stay with you. It was more convenient to stay in Seoul, you had reasoned, both for his doctor’s appointments and for his members and BigHit. That, and you were a little selfish, wanting him closer than the three hour trip to his hometown, though you would never outright admit that to him.
He settled on the couch, his left arm resting beside the arm of the couch, and you helped him put the shoulder pad on properly. You patted his cheek and left him to go grab ice to put in the machine.
“So I was thinking,” you called, scooping a cup full of ice out of the bag you kept in the freezer. “Just because the doctor said that you should rest doesn’t mean you have to mope around watching movies all day.” He looked up from his phone, an eyebrow raised. You dumped the ice into the machine and pressed the button to get it to begin circulating water. “What do you think about going to pick up some paint supplies tomorrow? We can set up a little studio in the spare room.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said softly, squeezing your knee when you sat down on his right. “I’m honestly fine with movies.”
“The doctor said you could be down for three months, Yoon. What are you going to do? Watch everything on Netflix?”
“If I have to.”
You snorted, reaching over to play with the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. “Yoon, you can’t just watch movies for three months. I know you. You’ll want to throw yourself out a window. I’ve already started to clean out the spare room.”
Yoongi sighed, draping the blanket he had brought from your bedroom over his lap. He smoothed it out before draping the excess over your legs. “I can paint in the kitchen. You don’t have to move your things around to accommodate me.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Gingerly, you rubbed your hand over his shoulder, careful not to apply too much pressure. The shoulder pad was icy, and you could feel the water flowing through it. “I want you to be comfortable here, Yoon. I know this is a big change–I want to make it easier on you. I like being helpful. I like taking care of you.”
“I just don’t want you to feel forced.”
“Hey.” Your hand was back in his hair, this time, your nails raked gently at his scalp. You noticed him leaning into your hand slightly, his eye lids heavy with contentment. “I invited you here, remember? I signed up for this.”
“I still don’t understand why,” he said softly. “You’ve done nothing but fret over me, and you took two weeks off work-”
“Are you really that dumb, Min Yoongi?” Your tone was playful, but it still caused his eyes to snap open as he waited for you to continue. “Taking care of you like this is weird. We went from dating to being an old married couple in a matter of days. But I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t love you a lot, you big idiot.”
A big, gummy smile blossomed across his face. “I know. And I appreciate all of it.” He squeezed your knee. “I love you a lot, too. I just don’t want to be a burden.”
“I promise you I will let you know when you become a burden.” You moved closer to kiss his temple, your hand moving to brush his hair behind his ear before going back to massaging his scalp. “In the meantime, we’ll go shopping for paints, yeah?” He nodded, leaning slightly to the side so that he was cuddled closer to you. You took his hand and squeezed.
You’d get through this together.