Hakyeon is still quite dazed as he sits next to an overly excited Taekwoon, watching a bunch of guys in either red or blue uniforms chase a black and white ball underneath them.

Taekwoon is most literally shaking with excitement, his shoulder and thigh bumping with Hakyeon's, the bag of crackers in his hand long forgotten. He mumbles a quiet “” or a “that’s right, do it, do it” every now and again, his cheeks flushed like he’s down on the pitch with his team mates, wearing his blue uniform himself.

“This is a nightmare,” he says, leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “If I were down there—”

“You guys would be leading?” Hakyeon asks, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Not necessarily, no,” Taekwoon replies, clearly not catching the sarcastic undertone of Hakyeon's question. “But they should be more energetic.”

“Must be frustrating,” Hakyeon says understandingly, “sitting here with me instead of playing.”

“It is, a little,” Taekwoon admits and then he turns to Hakyeon, expression sheepish. “But I don’t mind being here with you.”

“Wow, you’re flattering me,” Hakyeon laughs.

There’s a hand on his, Taekwoon holding his fingers gingerly and Hakyeon's laughter dies down, his heart beating a lot faster than it should. He feels Taekwoon cup his cheek, lifting his head so Hakyeon looks at him, and a moment later, there are warm lips pressing to his mouth, Taekwoon kissing him sweetly. Hakyeon presses closer to him, leaning into the touch, but then Taekwoon pulls back with a hiss.

“Careful of my shoulder,” he says, grimacing.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I forgot—”

“I’m kidding, doctor,” Taekwoon giggles and Hakyeon slaps his hand, but then Taekwoon covers Hakyeon's fingers with his other hand that’s still holding the crackers, and kisses him again.

If anything, this would be worth being kicked out of the Medical Association, Hakyeon thinks.

But he might be getting ahead of himself.