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Superstars made falling from stage look like something easy, something you simply shake off with a small shake of your head, raising your arm to the silent audience and getting back to your performance like a goddamn superhuman. Yoongi has been an underground rapper for a couple of years, never having experienced anything embarrassing on stage - aside from that time when Namjoon had decided to perform even with a stomachache and proceeded to puke on the front of his shirt. How very artistic of him.
Anyways, Yoongi was no newbie in knowing all different kind of tricks that would have enabled him not to embarrass himself on stage. He had even gone to the extent of compiling a list; he had printed a copy of it for Namjoon too, making sure to have him know it by heart by the very next day.
However, nothing, not even his Shame Proof list, could have saved him from avoiding someone else’s incompetence and negligence. It was during one of his spring tour concerts that it happened. Namjoon and Yoongi were performing their last song, sweat already matting their hair to their foreheads, making their shirts stick to their bodies. They were jumping around on stage, Namjoon spitting his lines like only he could do, all concentration and raw feelings. Yoongi was looking on at the sea of people, moving to the rhythm of their beats, waving hands pumping to the music. A surge of pride squeezed his chest, a pang of satisfaction for having instilled such passion into their loving fans. He felt the need to get closer to them, to show them how much he appreciated them for helping him get to such a point in his career, in his life.
Yoongi put a foot on one of the black speakers lining the edge of the stage, shifting all his weight on it. But that was when he felt a sudden rush of air; one moment his gaze was marveling at the mass of nodding heads, and the next the world around him was a colorless blur. His lungs felt like they were collapsing inside of him, his brain registering a growing discomfort at his side. He could still hear the music above him, pounding and pulsing in waves, but there was a loud buzz coming from inside his head. Abruptly, the discomfort at his side turned into a stabbing pain, a sensation so strong that he felt the sudden need to throw up. In the blink of an eye, security guards and paramedics were at his side, but his vision cut off to black.
His head felt heavy, drowning endlessly into darkness. There was a beeping sound resounding somewhere, tinkling in his ears. It was insistent, and it was in synch with the sound of his beating heart. The beeps were regular, a syncopated rhythm that had him humming under his breath, wanting to follow it.
“You’re awake, I see.”
The beeping was still there, his head still felt heavy, but a voice added to that. It was melodious and deep, making Yoongi hum appreciatively.
“We’re almost done with the cast.”
The voice sounded so soft, it reminded Yoongi of cotton candy. Pink cotton candy. The scenery in front of his eyes was still so black though, and he soon realized it was because his eyes were closed. When had he closed them?
He cracked one eye open, white light almost blinding him. There were spots in his vision, grey edges catching up to him.
“Mmm-uh-shit...”
He needed someone to turn off the the lights, because he could feel a headache starting to pound at his temples. Could someone do him this simple favor? He tried to voice his demand. “... Turn ‘e lights?”
A chuckle came from beside him. It was the dream voice, again. Yoongi tried to turn his head to the side, tried to get a look at the source of the magical sound that had so beautifully invaded his reverie. His neck was so stiff. He inhaled deeply, lungs burning with the intake of air.
“We’re almost done, ok?”
Yoongi nodded, but then his gaze met the figure of a stunning man. He must have been dreaming, still in a world of rhythmic beeps and sweet voices. The man was dressed in light blue garments, his skin a shiny golden that reflected the white lights in such a mystical way that Yoongi had to squint his eyes not to get blinded by such a stunning apparition.
“... ‘t hurts.” Yoongi said, his voice raw and scratchy. He felt like everything was moving in slow motion, the man beside him taking ages to bat those gorgeous eyelashes, smile spreading so lazily on his features.
“I know, but it will get better, don’t worry.” The apparition truly had the loveliest voice he had ever heard.
“... Are y’ real?” Yoongi had to know. He had to know, because those small pink, blue and green sparkles dancing around in his vision were now fluttering all around the tall man, like fairies swarming by a spring flower.
The man chuckled, his hands occupied with rolling a white gauze around something. “I am, I am. I’m Taehyung.” He shot a smile at Yoongi, flashing him all his teeth. What a strange smile he had, its corners squared and lips stretching all the way.
“...Why ‘re y’ here?”
“I’m a doctor. I’m here to put a cast on your arm.”
Yoongi nodded dumbly. His arm. He tried to move it, but something heavy was weighing it down. It also hurt, an itchy feeling begging him to scratch at it.
“It’s itchy…” Yoongi whined, in hope for someone to help him; he didn’t have the strength to do it himself, to just reach out and prod at the thing blocking his arm.
A warm hand rested on his forehead, pushing back his hair from his face.
“There, we’re all done, Yoongi-ssi!” It was the apparition again, this time leaning over his face and staring down at him with so much gentleness Yoongi felt his lips stretch in a dumbstruck smile.
“...You ‘r a doctor?”
The man nodded. What was his name again?
“Exactly!”
Ah, yes. Taehyung. Why was he so gorgeous?
“Why ‘r you so gorgeous?” Yoongi marveled, vision still swimming in tiny, golden and shiny spots.
Taehyung blushed, his cheeks coloring with such a lovely shade of pink that he could have put cherry blossoms to shame. Would they be just as soft under his fingertips?
“You - You should rest now, Yoongi-ssi.” Taehyung stammered, eyes going to the bedside table. He occupied his hands with some objects lying on it: Yoongi could see some kind of liquid solution and surgical scissors.
“... ‘r we in a hospital?” The white, blinding lights and smell of disinfectant were definitely going to give Yoongi a headache, but as long as the hot doctor was going to stay by his side, he was sure he’d be all right.
“Yes, don’t you remember what happened?” Fingers circled around Yoongi’s wrist, pinching his index finger into something that reminded him of a clothespin. “Oxygen levels are ok. You’re all good, Yoongi-ssi!”
What happened. The fuzziness around him was so overwhelming that even thinking was hard for him. However, an image, tentative and unsure, flashed in his mind. He could remember music, the bass line thumping in his chest together with his heart. There was a crowd, waving hands and bobbing heads. But that’s all he could come up with.
Yoongi shook his head, pursuing his lips. “No… It’s hard.”
Taehyung took a bottle of water from a nearby cart. “This should be the nurse’s job, but, here -” There was a straw poking out of it. “Drink a bit.”
Yoongi eyed the man up and down, appreciating the gentle arch of his lips and the soft hair falling over his ears.
“I’d drink y’ up.” He said, a small smirk on his face.
Taehyung chuckled embarrassedly, pushing the straw against Yoongi’s lips. “You should really drink. You need to stay hydrated and keeping the osmotic balance of all your minerals is -”
“ ‘m only thirsty for you, though.” This time Yoongi wrapped his lips around the straw, sipping on it. He had to struggle a bit before successfully putting it between his lips, tongue sticking out to get a hold of it.
Taehyung cleared his throat, before placing the plastic bottle back on the metal cart. “Well,” He picked up a clipboard from the foot of the bed. “Your x-rays don’t show any kind of ulterior fracture; sequellae can be discussed further -”
“Wh’t about m’ heart?” Yoongi interrupted.
The doctor lifted his head up, staring confusedly at him. He shuffled some papers, eyes skimming along them.
“Ummm, heart function seemed perfectly regular, no sign of arrhythmia or -”
“‘Cause I think y’ stole it.” The pleased smiled that set on Yoongi’s face made him look like a tabby cat who had just caught a mouse. He batted his eyes at Taehyung, who was gawking at him with his mouth open and eyes as wide as saucers.
“Um, I’m - I -” He scrambled to take a thermometer out of his pocket, shaking it in his hand. “I’ll - Take your temperature, now.” He tapped a finger on Yoongi’s chin, gesturing for him to open up his mouth. The man lazily did so, eyes playful and full of mirth. While they were waiting for the mercury in the thermometer to go up, Yoongi pensively hummed.
“Shouldn’ y’ check y‘r temperature?”
Taehyung shook his head, an amused smile now painting his lips. “Why, Yoongi-ssi? I’m perfectly healthy.”
Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “But you’re lookin’ hot today.”
Taehyung removed the thermometer from his mouth with a scoff. Pink was once again blooming high on his cheekbones, leaving Yoongi with the need to reach out.
He brought the small device to his eye level, squinting at the numbers on it. “Temperature still in normal values range.” He looked at Yoongi, who must have still been wearing that dumb, contented expression. “Anything to report, Yoongi-ssi?”
Yeah, his arm felt itchy and heavy, his temples were nearly pulsating with an headache and the world around him still moved too damn slow for his liking. However, he voiced none of his thoughts, making a come-hither gesture at Taehyung. The doctor looked surprised, but obliged nonetheless, leaning over the hospital bed. His face was mere centimeters from Yoongi’s one.
“Y’ should put a bandaid on m’ knees, doctor.” Yoongi whispered conspiratorially.
Taehyung’s eyes twinkled, mischief now seeping into them. He smirked, lips curling upwards. Yoongi had his gaze stuck between the perfect arch of his nose and his cupid’s bow.
“Why should I, Yoongi-ssi?” The doctor whispered back, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth.
“... I think I’ve scrap’d them fallin’ for you.”
Taehyung blinked, bewildered, his brain registering what he had just been told. And all of a sudden, he bursted out in a boisterous laugh; his eyes were closed and his head thrown back to expose his long, tan neck. Yoongi was damn proud of himself for making the hot doctor laugh, a smug smirk plastered on his face.
A knock on the door interrupted their moment, a small nurse entering the room.
“Doctor Kim, there are some medical records you should come look over. We need to adjust some prescriptions.”
Taehyung nodded at the lady, drying the tears that had collected at the corner of his eyes. “I’ll be there right away!”
The nurse nodded, leaving the room in a hurry, probably rushing off to take care of some other patient. Taehyung turned around to fix Yoongi with a mysterious look, mouth curled up in amusement.
“The effect of the anesthetic should wear off soon. Get some rest, Yoongi-ssi.” And with that, he picked up his stethoscope from his pocket, slung it around his neck and walked off in the direction of the door.
“Doctor!” Yoongi lazily reached out. “Y’ll be back, right?”
The man stopped in his tracks, hand poised on the door handle. He smiled at Yoongi. “Of course, see you later.” And with that he was gone.
Yoongi hummed under his breath. What a hot doctor. Was it even legal for one to be so hot? Not to mention cute. He tried to lift his arm and use it to scratch at his nose, realizing with a start the stab of pain cursing in it. He looked down at it, registering a white cast surrounding his forearm. He huffed, laying his head back on the soft pillow. Maybe he’d follow the doctor’s orders and catch some sleep.
Namjoon’s obnoxious laughter echoed in the small hospital room, further fueling the irritation stemming inside Yoongi. A nurse stopped by to reprimand him, asking him to be quieter. Namjoon sheepishly nodded, before snickering again.
“I can’t believe it. You hit on your doctor while they were treating you. Wow.” His friend prodded at his side, making Yoongi squirm in his bed.
“Namjoon, you’re so fucking lucky my arm’s in a cast, otherwise I’d be choking you to death right now.” Yoongi bit out, looking at him through slitted eyes. He could punch him in the nose, if he wasn’t scared of busting his healthy hand, too.
“God, I should have been here, I can’t believe I’ve had to hear this from Jin.”
Right, Seokjin. Namjoon’s boyfriend. He worked as a doctor at that same hospital, and apparently he knew Taehyung, who had just recently been assumed there. From the nightmare stories his friend had told him, Yoongi had fallen from stage during their performance, breaking his radius. The fracture though had to be broken again, so that the bone could heal well. Because of this, Yoongi had to undergo general anesthesia which left him in a not-so-lucid state of mind. He had hit on his fucking doctor, for fuck’s sake. How was he going to live it down?
He dropped his face in his palm, raking his hand in his hair - it was in dire need of a shower. Namjoon patted him on the shoulder.
“Come on, it’s not that bad. He must have known you were still under the effect of narcotics.” He tried to reassure him.
Yoongi growled under his breath.
“Namjoon, shut your fucking trap or I’m -”
In that moment the door to the hospital room opened, a tall male dressed in a white coat entering with a flourish.
“Good morning, Yoongi-ssi! How are we feeling?” A deep voice asked him. Yoongi’s eyes flew to the small plaque pinned to the breast pocket of the man’s coat.
Dr. Kim Taehyung
Yoongi could hear Namjoon snicker beside him, trying to cover his face with his hand.
“I - I’m fine.”
Dr. Kim nodded, picking up the clipboard at the foot of his bed. He checked off some stuff, a serious expression on his face. Yoongi gulped, eyes raking over the appearance of the doctor, his tan skin and handsome face. He couldn’t believe he had hit on him.
The doctor placed the clipboard back in its place, making his way towards the side of Yoongi’s bed.
“Seems like everything’s fine! You’ll be discharged very soon.”
Yoongi dumbly nodded, shifting his gaze to where Dr. Kim’s hands were shoved in his coat pockets. He couldn’t bring himself to maintain eye contact, those dark eyes were too much for him.
There was a short silence, something almost awkward, when the tall man spoke again.
“No, that’s not an epi-pen you see in my pants.”
Yoongi jerked his head up, locking eyes with him.
“... Excuse me?” He asked, brain unable to wrap around whatever the doctor could have been referring to.
The man smiled, all wide mouth and lips forming a rectangular shape.
“You see, I’m just happy to see you!”
Namjoon snorted so hard that he almost fell off his chair, hands flying to his sides to grab at the armrests.
Yoongi was left blinking his eyes, a blush fast taking over his features. He could feel something hot spreading down his neck and up his cheeks. He bit his lip, averting his eyes with a jerk of his head.
“... Goddammit.” He muttered under his breath.
Not even the time to recover from such embarrassment that, from the corner of his eyes, Yoongi saw Taehyung taking his stethoscope from around his neck and placing it in his hand. He had a soft look in his eyes, hair still beautifully falling over his features.
“Yoongi-ssi, why don’t you listen to your heart and go out with me?”
Yoongi had fallen, and he couldn’t get up.