Jung Taekwoon returns a week later, now fully healed and with both of his shoes on his feet, walking without much trouble.

“How are you feeling today?” Hakyeon asks as Taekwoon takes a seat in front of him.

“My foot’s okay,” Taekwoon says, and when Hakyeon glances up from his laptop, noticing the sling his right arm is in, hanging from his neck, it looks like the tips of Taekwoon's ears turn pink.

“What… is going on there?” Hakyeon asks, furrowing his brow as he points at the sling.

“Oh, this?” Taekwoon blinks at his arm like he had already forgotten about its existence, even though it clearly is injured. “I had a minor shoulder dislocation.”

“A what?” Hakyeon squawks and Hongbin sighs behind his own desk, fingers running rapidly on his keyboard.

“It just came out and went back a few seconds later,” Taekwoon shrugs his uninjured shoulder. “It doesn’t even really hurt, but the doctor at the emergency department said I should immobilise it.”

“The x-ray showed nothing major,” Hongbin says and Taekwoon nods, as if confirming. “But he needs rehabilitation from you.”

“That’ll take at least two months,” Hakyeon whines and he sees Taekwoon raise his eyebrows. “Why is communication so awful in this hospital, Jesus…”

“I can look for someone else, if it’s a problem.”

Hakyeon cuts Taekwoon a glare, Taekwoon muttering, “Or… not,” before turning his head away, examining the different appliances in the room.

“Okay,” Hakyeon drags his hands over his face. “Okay, let’s check your ankle first.”

Taekwoon kicks his sneaker off with the shoelaces still tied, and Hakyeon takes his foot into his lap, pulling his sock off. The skin is back to normal and there’s no swelling anymore, and when he turns Taekwoon's ankle around, the patient doesn’t make any sound.

“You should rest it for at least a week more,” Hakyeon says, helping him put his sock back on. “Not that you could play any sports with your shoulder like this, anyway.”

“We have a match next week though,” Taekwoon grimaces.

“Well, you’ll have to watch it from the bleachers, I’m afraid.”

Taekwoon clicks his tongue, throwing his head back.

“All right, let’s see your shoulder,” Hakyeon says, standing up. “So you’re saying it got dislocated but got relocated by itself immediately?”

“Yes.”

“Your ligaments are awful, it seems,” Hakyeon shakes his head. “You should consider getting them treated.”

“What does that mean?” Taekwoon asks suspiciously as Hakyeon takes the sling off his neck and arm, steadying it by Taekwoon's stomach.

Hakyeon tells him about the physiotherapy he will need to get, from someone whose profession is just that, after they’re done with treating his shoulder. Taekwoon listens with his face falling gradually, emitting a yelp every now and again when Hakyeon moves his injured shoulder. He looks quite cute with the frown on his face, lips pursed and two small lines forming between his eyebrows, his nose scrunching up. Hakyeon feels his grip weaken on Taekwoon's arm and he only notices it when Taekwoon cracks one of his eyes open, peering up at him at which Hakyeon flinches and pulls at Taekwoon's arm a little harder than necessary, Taekwoon crying out.

“I’m sorry!” Hakyeon exclaims, trying to massage Taekwoon's shoulder as softly as possible, ultimately ending up caressing it and Taekwoon looks at his fingers questioningly.

Hakyeon moves Taekwoon's shoulder a bit more, keeping his eyes on his own hands, and puts the sling back around Taekwoon's arm and neck in the end.

“We should repeat this about two times a week,” Hakyeon says, sitting down and looking at his laptop. “What about 3pm every Tuesday and Thursday?”

“Can’t we do it more often so I can play next week?” Taekwoon asks.

“You can’t play next week,” Hakyeon declares and Taekwoon rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Taekwoon sighs, rising from his seat. “See you on Thursday, then.”

“Yes, and keep your arm immobile!”

“All right, all right.”

He turns around and makes for the door, Hakyeon following him with his gaze, taking a deep breath at the sight of Taekwoon's broad shoulders and his back, his muscular calves under his tight-fitting jeans.

“Hey,” he hears Hongbin as his assistant snaps his finger before his eyes. Hakyeon blinks a few and looks at him. “Oh, God, you’re crushing on him.”

“What? Who? What are you talking about?” Hakyeon splutters, hiding behind his laptop.

“This is going against medical ethics, you know,” Hongbin shakes his head reproachfully. “He can be hot all he wants, but he’s your patient.”

“I don’t think he’s hot,” Hakyeon retorts with less fervency than he’d like.

“Oh, come on, Hakyeon!” Hongbin shouts, frustrated, and Hakyeon's cheeks are ablaze behind the screen of his laptop as he slides lower in his seat. “He’s tall, has broad shoulders and thick thighs and the face of a doll, and he’s annoying you. I know you’re falling for him.”

Hakyeon groans, flopping over on top of his desk, burying his face into his arms, feeling the blush spread over his features. It’s true that Taekwoon's looks are more than pleasing to the eye, and it’s also true that Hakyeon tends to date people whom he views with immense antipathy at the beginning—Jaehwan was a very good example of this habit of his. Taekwoon is too much of a perfectly snarky smartass for Hakyeon's stupid teenage girl-like taste in men.

“I’m just saying,” Hongbin says quietly like anybody could eavesdrop on them, “you should be careful, Hakyeon. You don’t want to end your career because of a fleeting romance with someone who’s only around you because his ligaments are .”

Hakyeon groans again.