Work Text:
“Please don’t be angry.” Yeon-oh’s voice carries down the hallway, hesitant. He stops in the bedroom doorway, half hiding himself behind the door frame, as if preparing to be scolded. Despite the late hour, there is a rather playful air about him too.
Jaehyuk raises a quizzical brow even before turning to face him, putting his tablet away thoughtlessly.
“If you haven’t even said hel-” When his eyes land on Yeon-oh’s face, his expression sours. “What the hell happened?”
He flips the covers and gets out of bed in record time, meeting Yeon-oh, who finally steps inside, halfway in the middle of the room. His handsome face is covered with two painful looking bruises and a bandaid sits pitifully at his temple. Jaehyuk holds his chin up softly, examining them more closely. Up close, the marks left behind by the long day spent on the filming set are much more noticeable. As he strokes his cheek carefully, anger rises like bile in Jaehyuk’s throat. It’s a good thing he never got to promise it wouldn’t.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore. It was my fault, don’t be mad,” Yeon-oh pleads, placing his own hand over his, trying in vain to placate him.
“That’s not relevant.”
Yeon-oh chuckles, then, defeated. “If I tripped on the sidewalk, would you be mad at it?”
“Yes. Now come here and sit down.”
Jaehyuk snakes an arm around his waist and guides him towards the edge of the bed, motioning for him to sit. Yeon-oh obeys tacitly but rolls his eyes at him affectionately. Secretly, he enjoys the attention, as excessive as it may be. It’s endearing. Jaehyuk kneels down in front of him, his eyebrows creased in worry. Only after taking Yeon-oh’s hands into his own does he realize there are scratches on them too.
“I wanted to do my stunts by myself,” Yeon-oh offers, a shy smile playing on his lips. “And I did.”
Jaehyuk looks up at him, his gaze complicated. He seems like he’s choosing his words carefully, tasting them in advance. His anger has subsided, the flame burning away and leaving behind only embers.
“I’m sure you did. But I still don’t like seeing you like this,” he says eventually, caressing Yeon-oh’s injured knuckles softly with his thumb.
“I’m not good looking enough like this? How superficial you are, Mr. Kwon Jaehyuk.”
“You’re always beautiful. I meant that it’s not pleasant seeing the person you love being hurt.”
Yeon-oh gapes, eyes wide. The blood rises to his cheeks and the tip of his ears. He doesn’t think he will ever get completely used to Jaehyuk’s sudden and sincere confessions, sometimes so serious that they end up almost comical.
There is no point in telling him that he was only joking.
“Then kiss them better.”
He extends a hand, which Jaehyuk accepts readily, then kisses lightly, as if he were afraid to not injure it further. He places small kisses on each knuckle, making Yeon-oh promise that they’d treat them properly and bandage them. Then, supporting himself on Yeon-oh’s knees, he pushes himself halfway up. He brushes his lips first against the small band aid, and afterwards on each bruise, his warm breath being more than enough to make Yeon-oh feel like he’s already healed.
“There, all better,” Jaehyuk announces, threading his fingers through Yeon-oh’s soft bangs.
“Thank you, Doctor Kwon,” Yeon-oh says with an impish smile, then wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him closer.