Chapter Text
As strange as it may be, Yoongi loves hospitals. He loves the clean and crisp smell, the spotlessness of the rooms and equipment. The willingness of the staff to help with whatever without question. It’s refreshing in a way. Yoongi has dealt with too many unsavory people; people who are entirely selfish and uncaring for others.
It takes a special kind of person to be a healthcare professional, he decides. Strong enough to take on death and not fall apart when they inevitably fail, but soft enough to still care for their patients regardless.
Yoongi doesn't think he could do it. He shuts down too often. Burns bridges at the drop of a hat and is willing to saw off any vital part of himself if it means he’d save the rest of his fail sense of emotional well being. And that's only over trivial drama and bullshit. But feeling responsible for a death? Yoongi would probably melt down if he let himself care for people only to have them die.
Nope, he is better off sticking to his career as a lyricist and producer. Less death. More creativity and forgiving audiences rather than blood and scary responsibilities.
“So when do I start chemo?” Yoongi asks the blonde man, Dr. Kim, on the opposite side of the desk. He isn’t surprised. He knew he was dying long before he Namjoon made him get tested. He’d had a feeling deep in his bones.
Well, maybe not less death.
“Is there anyone you would like me to call, Mr. Min? Starting chemotherapy will be extremely taxing and it is very important you have a strong support system.” Dr. Kim shoots him a worried look, eyebrows pushed together. He laces his fingers and rests his chin on them, elbows on the desk.
“Nah, you know I haven’t talked to my parents since they disowned me in highschool.” Yoongi shrugs as if it didn’t still tug at his heart to admit it aloud. He hooks one knee over the other, a habit he has had forever. Jin, ever the nagging mother he is, always swats at Yoongi when he does this, saying something about it fucking with his spine.
“Your brother?”
“He doesn’t need to know.” Yoongi sighs. His older brother will text him once a year at least, so Yoongi knows how happy he is with his wife and kids. They aren’t as close as they once were, not after all the family drama, and Yoongi would rather keep it that way. His brother needs to keep up his relationship with their parents. Yoongi’s dying anyway. There's no point in Yoonwoo dropping everything and losing his good graces with their parents for a dead man walking.
“Friends then?” Dr. Kim asks.
Yoongi can’t think of anyone he is close enough with to call. Sure, he has acquaintances at work he can goof off with during breaks but this, his having cancer, is not something he is willing to share with them. It’s too heavy. They wouldn’t be able to joke anymore. He has friends from university, but they all have jobs and he doesn’t want to burden them.
He shakes his head in answer.
Somehow the crease in between Dr. Kim’s brows deepens. “In that case, I’d like it if you would stay with us while you are on chemo so we can properly care for you. It’s imperative that a patient, such as yourself, has a proper support system.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Yoongi brushes the offer off. It’s not that he can’t pay for it; he has plenty of money. Nor does he have any qualms about being in the hospital. Just, how pitiful would that be? Having to stay in the hospital because he doesn’t have anyone to help him at home.
“Yoongi,” Dr. Kim drops the professional airs and switches to Namjoon, his best friend and roommate from college. Dimples appear as his lips pull into a pout. “It’d make me feel better knowing you are here instead of suffering alone. You know I would stay with you but I can’t leave my patients here. Please just let me help you.”
“Fine Namjoon,” Yoongi sighs. It’ll be nicer here than if he hired a home nurse. At least he’ll have Namjoon and Jin to take his mind of his imminent death. He uncrosses his legs and motions to the door. “Do I have to check in now, or can I go grab stuff from home?”
Jimin pops his head around the doorway of Chaelin’s room, keeping the bottle of ginger tea out of sight, to search for his favorite cancer patient. He doesn’t see her anywhere, only stuffed animals here and there. Mr. Bear, her favorite, is gone, so she must have him with her.
Disappointment in his gut, he heads back to the nurse station to check when she had her appointment today. “Is Chaelin at the chemo ward already?”
The head nurse answers him, “Left a little while ago, hun.”
“Thanks,” then he’s off to the chemotherapy ward, walking as fast he can down the bustling halls. He bumps into Dr. Jin, who shouts at him to say ‘hello’ to Chaelin for him as he passes, on the way and has to dodge a few gurneys but he gets there pretty fast all things considered.
It takes no time at all for him to spot her tiny body in one of the chairs placed a semi circle when he burst in through the double doors. Some other patients look up at him as he does, including the man seated next to her, the sound of the doors banging catching their attention. He bows his head in apology a few times, then heads over to Chaelin’s chair.
“Sorry i’m late, i had to help out with something.” he pants.
“Did you run again?” she keeps her gaze trained on Mr. Bear in her lap.
“Yeah, bumped into Jin again too. He says ‘hi’, by the way.” Jimin slyly looks at the patient next to Chaelin, appraising the man. He’s beautiful, even with thinning hair and bruising purple under his uniquely shaped eyes. Jimin must stare a little too long because the man shuffles in his chair, clearly uncomfortable under Jimin’s gaze.
Chaelin nods when he looks back to her, then looks up at him, eyes squinted appraisingly, and points to the bottle he has in his hands. Poker Face on, as if she hasn’t decided to forgive him yet she says, “Is that for me?”
“Yup, I got your favorite from downstairs.” he singsongs, shaking the tea a little as he shimmies his shoulder up and down invitingly.
She holds out a second longer, face so unamused he starts to sweat, then breaks into a big smile for him. Shifting Mr. Bear safely to the side, she grabs the drink he offers and downs a few gulps before he can start to scold her.
“Chaelin! Don’t drink so fast. You’re gonna make yourself sick.” Dr. Jin would be so proud of the tone the man next to Chae uses. Firm, but still affectionate. Jimin decides to ask Chaelin about him later.
“I know, I know, Yoongi. I was just so thirsty.” she says sheepishly. “I won’t do it anymore.”
“Good,” he ruffles her hair right as Jimin’s pager goes off.
He reaches down to his waist to check it, and grimaces when he sees the who it’s from. “Ah, sorry i can’t stay with you today. I have to go, but i’ll stop by later to see how you are feeling, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Jimin.”
He throws a wave over his shoulder on the way out.
Yoongi makes a friend on his first day of chemo, which is fucking amazing seeing as it’s the fastest he’s bonded with anyone. Granted, his new friend is a little eight year old girl who looks fragile enough to blow away with the light breeze from the air conditioner and he wasn’t the one who reached out first. She's cute, though. Adorable with her small, half moon eyes and colorful scarf tied in a bow on top of her head.
They talk for the first time because she dropped her toy. The teddy bear rolled by his feet unnoticed until a small hand had tapped him on the arm. He grabbed it for her without complaint, amused at her addressing him formally. He tells her to call him by his first name because he isn’t that old yet.
During his next session she come in late, a female nurse rolling her in.To his surprise, she makes a big fuss about being seated next to him, even arguing with the worker when she tries to seat her across the room from him. And it keeps happening each time they are scheduled together until one day the nurse just automatically places her next to him. Chaelin, as she tells him to call her, sends him a smug look when the nurse isn’t looking.
He stops bringing a notebook; he never even opens it when he does, too busy paying attention to Chaelin. She goes on and on about her favorite movies and some man named Jimin, who he meets once briefly , gets brought up often. Yoongi lets her educate him on all the ins and outs of princesses and princes when he admits to his less than competent knowledge about royal families. He sits quite through her monologues, asking the occasional question and nodding when appropriate. It’s easy to listen to her; she’s very expressive and talks with her hands so she’s constantly holding his attention.
Somewhere along the way, he starts walking with her back to the Peds ward with Hoseok and Minah, their regular nurses, following behind them with wheelchairs in hand just in case disaster strikes. They part ways at the entrance to Peds, but Yoongi always watches the double doors close behind her before allowing Hobi to guide him back to his own floor.
Chaelin is a funny little thing. The more time he spends with her, the more fond he becomes of her and a big part of him wants to talk to Namjoon about switching his sessions to avoid her. The more he cares for Chaelin, the more it’ll hurt to say goodbye to her - be it because of his death or hers. Yoongi knows this, but he doesn’t go to Namjoon just yet.
She misses one session, then another, and it has him panicking. Is she okay? Did she suddenly get worse? Had she died? Yoongi realizes he has no way of finding out. He didn’t know what room she has, just that she lives in Peds, or what her last name is. He thinks to ask around the room, maybe someone knows her, but Yoongi has never seen Chaelin speak to anyone but him and whoever, usually Minah, rolls her in. He knows she can’t legally disclose anything even if he spoke to her so he does nothing - just continues on with his treatment and hopes she will come back.
It’s quiet without her. Too boring and dull. He sits alone now, even though there are other patients of all ages in the semi circle. It’s only been a few sessions and Yoongi isn’t ready to move on from his tiny friend.
Today he arrives to the chemo ward a little late. The elevators were too cramped and there is now way he could make it using the stairwell, not with his cancerous lungs, so he was forced to wait with his nurse Hoseok. Yoongi settles down into the chair with a huff, and has to take a moment to catch his breath from the long walk.
“You know, I thinks it’s time you let me wheel you up here Yoongi.” Hoseok says, but not unkindly.
“Not yet, I can still make it. I just” he drags in a deep breath, “need a sec.”
“Alright, if you say so.”
“I think it’s past time to shave my head though,” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, still heaving through corrupted lungs, fingers catching a hand full of loose strings. He holds it out to Hoseok with a pitiful look. He doesn’t want to be pitiful, really he doesn’t, in fact the knowledge that he is makes him more nauseous than the chemo most days, but it’s kind of hard not to be when he is shedding hair like a cat and looks like death. “Ninety percent of it is gone anyway and I don’t wanna keep clinging what’s left just because I don’t wanna have a bald ass head.”
“I can help you when I get off work tonight if you want.” Hoseok says it casually like it isn't a big deal.
Yoongi doesn’t answer. They both know Hoseok will end up helping anyway. They’ve formed an odd sort of friendship over the past months Yoongi has spent under his care. He’s not quite sure when it happened. Somewhere in between Hoseok cleaning up after his vomit, dealing with his misplaced anger and cracking jokes to brighten up Yoongi’s entire existence, probably.
Hoseok gets to work hooking him up, connect the tubing to the inside of his elbow, up before he speaks again. “Last day of chemo, you excited?”
“Ecstatic.” Yoongi says wryly. He keeps his voice void of any and all emotion for emphasis. “Can’t you tell?”
“Jeez, Yoongz. Turn down the enthusiasm.” Another laugh while he fetches a fluffy blanket from the cabinets on the left to drape over Yoongi’s lap. He takes care to tuck the corners around his skeletal hips so it won’t slip off later.
“No, really though, I’m glad I get to take a break from having poison injected into me.”
Hoseok nods, shuffling his feet. “Think your bff will still be a no show?”
“Yup. I think I got dumped, Hobi.” This makes the nurse chuckle. He’s grateful. For the laughter and for Hoseok in general. He doubts he’d make it if he was stuck with the night shift nurse, Hayoon, he shudders just thinking her name, during the daytime too. If he was, he would have begged his lungs to seize up long ago. He said as much to Hoseok once and the man couldn’t stop laughing for twenty minutes.
The door opens but he doesn’t peek around Hoseok to check if its her anymore. It hurts too much when he’s let down. Yoongi studies Hoseok instead, trying to distract himself. He does this often, mostly to distract himself, but also because Hoseok is hot as fuck and let's be honest, who could resist taking a peek every once in awhile? Yoongi can't help but trace his gaze over Hoseok’s sharp nose and jawline. As always he admires the barely there mole on the left of Hoseok’s heart shaped lips as he talks.
“I could be your new bff, if you want.”
“Hey! Don’t even think about it!” a tiny voice yells from across the room. “He’s my best friend Hoseok!”
Yoongi knows this voice; he’s spent countless hours listening to it. His head snaps to the door so fast, he thinks he might’ve pulled a muscle. There is Chaelin, who appears more gaunt than usual, sat in her wheelchair glaring daggers at Hoseok with Minah in tow.
“Chaelin!” Yoongi tries to stand, to walk over so he could smother her in affection, but he moves to quick. His lungs freeze the same time his legs do, making him topple over - “Yoongi!” all three of them shout. - into Hoseok’s waiting arms. His nurse had shot his hands out to catch him, knowing Yoongi well enough to know he would try to get up. Yoongi’s cheeks smacks into Hoseok’s collarbone and his left arm stings from yanking at the I.V. place in his arm. He coughs, choking because he can’t get sufficient air into his decrepit lungs quick enough, the adrenaline making his heart beat tenfold.
A dainty hand tugs on his hospital gown. “Yoongi, it’s okay. C’mon slow down.”
Yoongi barely hears her, trying so hard to breathe. Flames lick up his chest, the lack of oxygen burning it’s way through his body. Each mouthful of air only adds to the pressure in his chest. His butt hits something hard but he doesn’t if he fell or if it was who Hoseok put him back in the chair. His head get fuzzy. Someone is standing in front of him, saying something to him. Yoongi's hands scramble to his throat unconsciously, as if his brain is trying to claw out an airway. It’s like he’s drowning in air.
And then he’s not. Someone smacks his hands down and something gets pulled over his face. His hands shoot up again to keep it securely in place, eye squeezed shut. An oxygen mask, he realizes as he’s suddenly able to take deep breaths.
“That’s it, slowly. In and out. Good job.” Hoseok says as he rubs soothing circles on his back. Yoongi leans into his touch, much too tired to keep the emotional distance he would usually have.
Hearing a sniffle, Yoongi opens his eyes. Chaelin is still in her wheelchair a few feet away. Her focus is solely on him, eyes wet. She looks shaken, but once Yoongi matches her gaze she seems to straighten up. She wipes at her face and gives him a fragile smile, pretending to be strong for his sake.
Yoongi takes his right hand away from the mask to wave her over. Chaelin slips out of the chair and teeters on unsteady feet towards him. No one stops her, though Minah follows closely behind. When she reaches him she climbs on to his lap; Yoongi helps her with both hands, not wanting her to fall. She settles onto his thighs, her head tucked under his chin, her thin arms circling his torso. Yoongi wraps his arm around her shoulders to keep her steady.
He pries the mask off his face so he can talk but the words come out too breathy to be understood clearly. “W-where-”
Chaelin leans away and shoves the mask back on, cutting him off. She reprimands him sternly saying, “You need to keep that on, Yoongi.”
He nods, feeling Hoseok glare daggers at him too.
Satisfied, she sinks back onto his chest. They sit like this for a few minutes until Minah makes Chaelin sit in her own chair so she can start her chemo. She protests at first, only to tuck Mr. Bear into the crook of Yoongi’s elbow. Once his lap is relatively empty Hoseok replaces the blanket, since it had long fallen off.
After a while Hoseok lets him take the oxygen mask off, once he was satisfied Yoongi wouldn’t suffocate. Only then does Chaelin speak to him. “I caught a cold. That’s why I missed my sessions.”
“Oh,” it comes out gravely. He lets his head loll in her direction. Her eyes are still a little red, but otherwise she looks normal. She has a deep purple scarf on today, the ends twisted around her head until they meet in a knot stylishly. The rich color takes away from her hollow cheeks.
Chaelin shrugs. “My mom says it's because I ate that M&M off the floor.”
That makes him sputter out a giggle. Her bluntness takes him off guard even though it’s what he likes about her. And it’s funny, in a ludicrous kind of way, that she would do something so dangerous, so childlike, as to risk everything for a piece of candy. It makes him glad that she hasn’t lost her innocence in the face of death even though what she did was dicey at best.
She studies him warily, as if she is waiting for him to start choking again so he reaches out and grabs her much smaller hand in his.
The next time Jimin sees Chaelin’s friend the man is outside in the courtyard, fading flowers surrounding him. Jimin is heading to his car when he spots him, the silver parts of the wheelchair catching in the early twilight. Hoseok is on the bench a little ways away just observing, open book on his lap ignored.
“Jiminie!” Hoseok waves Jimin over when his eyes land of him.
This time Yoongi has an oxygen tank with him, the tubing looping its way up around his ears so it rest comfortably under his nose and the tank itself hooked onto the back of his chair. He’s got a black beanie on, despite the sweltering heat, and a pair of hospital clothes. Jimin wonders idly if the beanie is because he had to shave his head. Yoongi has what looks to be a notebook open on his lap. Occasionally he scribbles something down then goes back to examining the garden.
“Hey, Hobi.” Jimin slides next to his friend on the bench. They bump fists as per usual.
“How come you're out here so late?” Sweat dots Hoseok’s forehead and his face is a light cherry color. The grey sleeves of his under shirt are pushed up as high as they can go, bunching up at the end of the maroon scrub tops short sleeves. He looks miserable. Jimin tugs on his scrub top. “Isn’t it a little too hot for this?”
“It is, but Yoongi wanted to get some fresh air.” he huffs. “It’s frigid as fuck in the hospital so I always put long sleeves on under my top so my ass doesn’t freeze to death and it's not like i can just start stripping during work hours.”
“So? It’s not like you take other patients out on field trips. You could have just said no.” Jimin can’t really blame Hoseok though, he doesn't think he would’ve been able to say not to the man a little ways away either.
“Other patients don’t throw things at me when I say no.” he says dryly but his lips are quirked up at the corners and affection slips through his sarcasm.
Jimin giggles at the mental image of Yoongi chucking heavy things while Hoseok cowers in the corner and shoots a scandalised look Yoongi’s way. The other man is too far away for Jimin to be able to see his face clearly, but he certainly doesn’t seem like someone who would throw a fit at being stuck inside all day. Then again, Chaelin did say he could be grumpy like an old man on occasion. However, she also said he was so excited to see her once she got over her cold that he stopped breathing. And that was just a few days ago.
“We still on for tonight?” Hoseok asks.
“Of course. Jin says he can’t make it though. He wants to stay and keep an eye on a few new patients. You know how he is. What about Namjoon?” The relatively new kid, or more accurately teenager, Jungkook, is in liver failure and Jin is determined to stay close by incase of an emergency. Jungkook’s been here a week already waiting for a transplant, and the only hiccups so far were all the times his boyfriend, and fellow patient, Kim Taehyung snuck into his room. Jimin may or may not have left the nurse’s station when Jungkook tipped him off to Taehyung’s appearance. Who’s he to stand in the way of young love? It wasn’t like Taehyung’s visits did any harm. On the contrary, they greatly improved Jungkook’s morale. It’s just that Jungkook’s parents don’t approve of their relationship and have enough money for the hospital to try and appease them.
“Nah, he’s spending time with Yoongi.”
“Yoongi? As in him, Yoongi?” Jimin tilts his head and motions to where the cancer patient is fondling a Mugunghwa only a foot away, the pink petals washing him out further. As worn out as Yoongi must be and as prominent the toll cancer has taken on him is, Jimin can still see the beautiful man he saw a year ago.
“Mhmm,” Hoseok nods. “Yoongi and Namjoon went to University together.”
It makes sense. Of course the married couple are both skipping out on them in favor of caring for their favorite patients. Namjoon’s mentioned Yoongi once or twice before, briefly in passing. He just never knew why Namjoon had such a soft spot for Yoongi, just that he did. Most people don’t stay in the hospital throughout their chemotherapy. Too expensive and unless there is a sudden complication, there's no need for them to. But it makes sense if Yoongi was admitted so Namjoon spend more time with him.
“Really? Namjoon has friends other than us?” Jimin widens his eyes in mock shock.
“Not many,” Yoongi says. He rolls himself over so he’s in front of them both and kicks at Hoseok. “I can’t believe you are fucking gossiping during work hours, Hobi. How unprofessional. ”
“You know I live for a good piece of gossip.” Hoseok sticks his tongue out at him. “It’s not like Jiminie here wouldn’t find out anyway, he’s friends with Namjoon too.”
Yoongi flips him off and turns to Jimin. He drags his eyes up and down Jimin’s frame slowly; suddenly Jimin feels like he’s sitting there naked. He drops his gaze to his feet, trying to hide the pink in his cheeks from the acute attention. “You’re Chaelin’s favorite nurse right?”
Jimin shifts in place, then stops once he notices his fidgeting and forces himself to face Yoongi. “Does she talk about me that often?”
“Only all the time.” Yoongi’s smile is a delicate thing. Like the wilting Mugunghwa still clutched in his fingers. It makes Jimin want to see his real smile, the uncontrollable one shown to those close to him.
After a beat (Was he waiting for Jimin to reply?) Yoongi swings his attention to Hoseok. “I’m ready to go in, Hobi.”
And then Jimin notices it: how exhausted Yoongi looks. His shoulders are slumped over, his eyes droop as if he is fighting to keep them open, and it seems like it takes all his energy just to let every word leave his dry, cracked lips. There's a large discolored bruise covering the back of his hand and he winces everything he tries to twirl the flower. It makes his chest ache something fierce as he catalogues Yoongi’s appearance.
With no hesitation, Hoseok leaps up, throwing a ‘see you later’ over his shoulder and starts to wheel Yoongi back into the hospital.
“Oh! Yoongi! Before I forget!” Jimin calls after them. Hoseok pauses, turning the chair slightly so Yoongi can look back to Jimin, their eyes locking. “Come by Chaelin’s room on friday after lunch. We’re putting on a little show for the nurses and i’m sure she’d want you to see it.”
Maybe a small part of Jimin wants Yoongi to see it too.
“You know, I think Jiminie has a crush on you. He was being kinda weird today.” Hoseok says as they enter the hospital, crisp clean air rushing at them and being sucked out the automatic doors. The reception booth is empty, the lights over the desk shut off and the paperwork cleared out, being that it’s way past the end of the daytime worker’s shifts.
Yoongi mulls Hoseok’s words over, indolently peeks into the dark window of the gift shop as they pass. Fiddles with the flower he picked from the garden earlier. “He must be a fuckin’ idiot then.”
Hoseok brings him to stop in front of the elevator and steps up to press the call button. He frowns in Yoongi’s direction. “Why? You’re a great catch Yoongz.”
The elevator doors slide open. Hoseok returns to his place and steers him in.
“I’m a walking corpse,” Yoongi pauses, rethinking his choice of words. “Rolling, I’m a rolling corpse.”
It takes a moment for Hoseok to maneuver them so they are facing the spot they just were in the open hallway but then he lightly slaps Yoongi’s shoulder, not appreciating his comment in the slightest. “No, Yoongi, you’re sick. There is a possibility you could die, yes, but you aren’t dead yet. You should live a little.”
“Keyword being: yet. Who in their right mind would get involved with a man with an expiration date?”
An idiot. That’s who.
“We all have expiration dates, Yoongz.” Hoseok leans over and taps the button for their floor.
“Yeah, but mine is in the near future and everyone knows it.” he reaches up and scratches at the beanie covering his bald head, not quite used to the feeling of fabric instead of hair.
“Min Yoongi-”
“Hold the door!” a deep voice bellows.
Yoongi can see a young man hauling ass down the corridor. He’s only a few seconds from reaching them so Yoongi sticks a foot out, stopping the closing doors. The guy tumbles into the elevator car, diving for the button panel on the left.
Hoseok’s glare screams ‘we’ll talk about this later’.
As he moves he clears Yoongi’s view of the hallway just as Hayoon, not yet dressed in scrubs, rounds the corner, shouting at them to hold the doors for her. Yoongi stands and bends over to push the ‘close doors’ button staring her down all the while.
“Min Yoongi!” she screeches once she sees the doors shutting, breaking into a mad dash.
That for popping my vein last night, bitch. He’s still got a huge bruise on the back of his hand and that shit hurts like hell. As if he doesn’t have enough problems.
He smirks at her and shrugs, just as the doors smack shut, ignoring the fire in his chest at the sudden movement. His chest heaves up and down and he has to readjust his nasal cannula but he considers this a win.
Min Yoongi: three. Lee Hayoon: two.
“Back again so soon Taetae?” Hoseok asks casually.
The young man, Taetae apparently, shoots Hoseok an indignantly bewildered glare. “So soon? I haven’t seen him once since Monday!”
“It’s Wednesday,” Yoongi states. He’s impartial to either case, but felt the need to point this out.
“Exactly!” Taehyung points at him like he just proved his point. Maybe he did, Yoongi sure as shit doesn’t know. He’s too sleepy at the moment.
Taehyung shoves the hand that was pointing to him further in his direction for a handshake. “I’m Taehyung, but you can call me Taetae. You’re a lifesaver, man.”
Taehyung is tall, a smidge taller than Hoseok and way taller than himself (Yoongi feels infinitely smaller next to them both.) and thin. He’s got messy blonde hair; the kind that screams ‘i just rolled out of bed this morning’, but it's cute. A boxy smile exposes his teeth, top and bottom row. From where Yoongi is seated he can see Taehyung has a little freckle on the very tip of his nose. His fashion is a tad bit on the strange side, being that his oversized white tee is torn in random spots, but compared to Namjoon’s extremely questionable choices, Yoongi is not offended in the slightest by flashing a small amount of skin.
“Yoongi.” He takes the offered appendage even though his own feels like it's made of lead. “Don’t mention it.”
“I’m supposed to apprehend you, but I’m off the clock in about,” Hoseok checks his watch, “four minutes and I need to get Mr. Grumps here back to his room.”
“Does that mean you are letting me go?” Taehyung bounces on his toes. It makes the elevator car shake, which makes Yoongi vaguely queasy. More than he normally is, anyway.
“Have I ever actually turned you in?” Hoseok scoffs. “Just make sure you're careful with how much running you do. I don’t want you to get worse and I’m sure Jungkook won't be happy if you do either.”
“True, true.” Taehyung nods, then frowns, his brow crinkling. “You guys are stepping your security game up though, this might be my last visit for a while.”
“You are you visiting so stealthily?” Yoongi asks.
Taehyung shrugs. “My boyfriend up in the Peds ward.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows sky rocket. “In Peds? Hoseok are you sure you don't wanna rethink your whole ‘not apprehending’ stance?”
Hoseok laughs boisterously. His hands are still holding onto his chair and it makes Yoongi shake as he shrieks. Once he’s caught his breathe, he says, “Relax, Jungkook is legal. He turned nineteen this past September.”
“Then why is he still in Peds and why does his boyfriend have to slip in like a wanted criminal?” Yoongi tilts his head so he can see both men properly.
“I made Jungkook stay with his parents so he could get his liver even though that means I’m not allowed to visit him - since his parents hate me - and Jin has been treating Kookie for a while. Like since he was in high school I think.” he sighs, “Besides it's only right that the best Peds surgeon around is the one to give him his new liver.” Taehyung’s explains, a little dejected.
“Ah,” Yoongi nods in understanding. “I think I might have a way for you to see Jungkook again.”
“Really?” apprehensive hope shines through Taehyung’s eyes.
Yoongi yawns behind his hand, all the excitement catching up to him. “You are just banned from see Jungkook, right?”
“Yeah,” Hoseok says, tone indicating he doesn’t see where Yoongi is going with this.
“Good. I think I can get you into Peds without any issues. Just come visit me friday around noon. Hoseok can give you my room number.”
The elevator dings and the door slide open. Hoseok silently guides Yoongi out of the elevator car but turns back to speak to Taehyung, presumably giving the information he needs.
Yoongi pays them no mind. He slumps in his seat, curling in on himself, eyes fluttering shut. Hoseok must return because he feels himself being propelled forward.
“Thank you!” Taehyung hollers after them.
Yoongi lifts one hand, letting it sway once, twice, before setting it back in his lap.
“That was awfully nice of you, Yoongi.” Hoseok says.
Yoongi keeps his eyes shut. “You said to live a little.”
They take a left down another hallway. Someone greets Hoseok, who calls out a hello, but they don’t stop to chat. It’s silent for a minute, then he picks up right where they left off. “Smuggling someone into the hospital isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said live a little. I was think more like making friends or maybe getting laid if you were feeling a little racy.”
“Don’t be picky.” Yoongi chides, too tired to deal with any and all sass. “He’s a good guy, right? I won't regret this, right?”
He hums. “A bit strange, but yeah, he’s worth helping.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to complain about.”
“Sure, other than the fact that you informing me, an employee of this hospital, that you are premeditatively breaking hospital policies even if on a technicality.” Hoseok scoffs.