Seokjin wasn’t absolutely certain where he was, but it seemed more likely he was at someone’s personal residence, than merely a safe house. And he was pretty sure in his deduction, even though he’d held himself back from snooping in any way.

But now he’d been cooped up in the small, quiet apartment Namjoon had delivered them to for almost eight hours. J-Hope’s fever was starting to come down, and was at a respectable number, the secondary IV was doing wonders. So now Seokjin was restless. And a little curious.

For the first time, with his bag all packed and ready to go, Seojkin got to his feet and wandered the small living room.

Its decor was fairly minimal, cleaner than Seokjin had expected for a home that was lived in by at least a couple of people, and there were no pictures on the walls. There was a bit of artwork, but it seemed the kind you’d buy from the thrift store. As did the trinkets and knickknacks littered around the room.

He supposed he probably shouldn’t have been surprised the apartment looked the way it did. Bangtan had to be careful, even with their personal residences. There was too much danger involved in their everyday life to have pictures of loved ones laying around, or objects of actual sentiment.

From his pocket Seokjin’s phone buzzed, and when he checked it, it was just Raina asking if he was okay. He was texting her a quick reply when the front door to the apartment opened and Seokjin startled.

“It’s just me,” Jimin said, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Seokjin had only seen him twice since he’d gotten J-Hope stabilized, but both times just briefly and they hadn’t so much as said a dozen words to each other.

Ringing his hands a little behind his back, Seokjin asked, “Do you know where my brother is?”

Reason told him that there was no correlation between J-Hope’s purely accidental injury, and Jungkook’s safety. But he still wanted to see his brother, and maybe fuss over him.

Seokjin’s paternal instincts had been raging as of late, ever since Bangtan had come into his life. For all intents and purposes, Jungkook seemed to be taking the sudden overbearing urges will some grace, but who knew how long that would last for. Jungkook had never really been one to indulge him, or allow Seokjin to treat him like he was almost eight years younger.

“Running errands,” Jimin said, his motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm. “Hang around long enough and he’s bound to pop up.”

Seokjin shook his head. “I just wanted to see him before I go.”

Jimin looked suddenly shaken. “Go?”

“Yes,” Seokjin said tersely, almost like he thought Jimin was a little slow. “I’ve been here for a very long time. I need to get back to the clinic and close it, and get ready for tomorrow.”

Jimin sputtered, “But what about J-Hope?”

Crossing his arms in assessment, Seokjin stated, “I’m confident that I’ve got his infection under control, and I’ve gotten the appropriate medication into him quickly enough for a standard recovery period. J-Hope is very lucky, actually, that Suga had sense enough to bring him in as fast as he did. That kind of infection? It can lead to gangrene and other terrible complications. But he’s been getting a steady influx of antibiotics, I gave him a tetanus shot just to be safe, and I’m satisfied with how his temperature had come down. If he stays in bed for the next couple of days at the very least, he’ll most likely make a full recovery.”

Lips pursed, Jimin regarded him silently.

Seokjin sighed, “I’ve already spoken to Suga about the most important warning signs to watch out for. He’s my new nurse, I suppose. But I assure you, I’m confident he knows what to watch for over the next few days, and he knows exactly what medication to give him and at what time. Everything is going to be okay. You have my word as a medical practitioner.”

Jimin seemed to mimic his body language. “Shouldn’t you be telling J-Hope’s boyfriend this?”

“Typically,” Seokjin said, more and more convinced that this kind of attitude was something that came to Jimin naturally, and had nothing to do with how poorly they’d gotten off to initially, “we try to avoid placing all the responsibility on the person who is the closest to patient. Love can be … blinding. At the very least, people who are so close to the patient are often incapable of making rational choices in their panic for the patient’s well being.”

“So you think--”

“I think,” Seokjin cut back, “that I’ve gone over all of this with Suga. I trust him to exercise the right amount of judgment. And you should too, because he’s one of you.”

Jinmin’s eyes narrowed. “I trust Suga.”

“Then I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. Trust my medical judgment, even if you don’t trust anything else.” Seokjin took a step towards the bedroom J-Hope was resting in. “Now, I need to check in on my patient before I leave for the clinic.”

“You’re just so full of yourself,” Jimin chortled. “It’s unbelievable.”
 

“There’s a difference between being full of yourself, and being confident. In this aspect, I’m the latter.”

“You surely wouldn’t let me forget that.”

There was the oddest expression on Jimin’s face when Seokjin gave him one last look. It was unlike anything Seokjin had seen from him before. He didn’t know what the look meant, or why he was getting it. But then there was the barest hint of a smile, and it was even more unsettling than the look before.

Upon consideration, it wasn’t as if Seokjin could deny that Jimin didn’t have a very handsome smile when he let himself. The evidence was there, even if Jimin seemed like he didn’t smile a lot. And Seokjin thought Jimin would be a lot more agreeable if he just smiled more.

Eventually, Jimin said, “Let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll take you back to the clinic.”

Seokjin felt himself go pale. “On your motorcycle?”

Now Jimin just looked amused. “How else?”
 

Assuredly, Seokjin said, “I’ll just wait for Namjoon.”

Jimin bristled a little. “You’re too good to accept a ride from me?”

“Maybe I’d be more interested in the idea of you taking me home if you didn’t drive a ticking bomb.”

Jimin laughed, and it was an attractive sound. “You survived once before.”
 

Seokjin reasoned, “A possible fluke.” He had hated the way his stomach had crawled up into his chest and remained there for the whole ride. And he’d hated even more how exposed and vulnerable he felt. Seokjin wasn’t one for excitement, and a motorcycle was just that.

Trailing a little closer, Jimin said firmly, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, on or off my bike, so you should just stop worrying. You look extra pretentious when you make that worried face. I’ll protect you, even if it’s just for the ride home.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Seokjin said, eyes narrowing as he felt the echo of what Namjoon had said to him. “And you can tell Namjoon that the next time you see him. Tell him I said to stop sending you and the others to look after me like a kid.”

Jimin tossed his helmet across the room, the hard, protective gear landing expertly on the sofa. “Rap Mon already said to back off.”

Seokjin reached for the bedroom door handle and said over his shoulder, “Then stop acting like you have to protect me.”

Jimin said after him, “Who says I have to?”

Seokjin only frowned at him. What was that supposed to mean?

He forced himself to put that from his mind completely as he went to do his final check on J-Hope. Jimin was just a headache waiting to happen, and Seokjin didn’t have the time or patience for that.

The curtains were drawn tightly in the room when Seokjin entered fully and shut the door firmly behind him. The sun would be down within the hour, but Seokjin understood the need to create a bubble of safety in the room.

“Do you need me to move?”

At the sound of V’s rough voice, Seokjin answered back lightly, “Have I ever needed you to move before?” Then Seokjin gave him a comforting smile. “You’re fine where you are.”

Stretched out on the full bed that dominated one of the two bedrooms in the apartment, was J-Hope. He’d been there since Seokjin and the others had arrived, unconscious the entire time, but steadily getting better. And crammed into his side, almost curled around him like an octopus, was V.

V had come charging into the apartment only a few hours earlier from out of town, dirty, sweaty, and frantic with worry. He’d clung tightly to Seokjin’s sleeve and demanded to know if J-Hope was going to be okay. Then he’d showered, at Seokjin’s insistence, climbed into bed next to J-Hope and hadn’t moved.

It hadn’t taken Seokjin long to work out what it meant by the way V had acted.

But it hadn’t been expected. Bangtan seemed more like brothers than lovers. They teased each other and harassed each other like brothers, and Seokjin had never seen any kind of romantic inclination between any of them.

Still, there was no denying that V and J-Hope were in a relationship of some kind. And there was a lot to be said from the the way Suga had given him careful, almost hopeful looks when Seokjin had realized it.

The absurdity of it had made Seokjin a little angry. As if he would care less for his patient in any way, under any circumstances.

“How’s he been doing?” Seokjin asked, reaching for his nearby thermometer.

“Sleeping,” V said, sounding a little frustrated. He had his fingers linked with J-Hope’s and was holding on with some pressure. “Just sleeping.”

Seokjin grinned again. “I know it’s kind of boring, but honestly, sleeping is the best thing J-Hope could possibly by doing right now. And he is just sleeping. He’s not sedated. That means he’s healing as he sleeps, and he’ll be back on his feet sooner than not.”

“I’m just …” V sighed. “I’m not used to him being this quiet. He’s never quiet.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin said with a soft laugh, “I got that impression with him.” Of all of Bangtan, Seokjin had probably spent the least amount of time around J-Hope. But every time Seokjin had seen him, he’d been bright and happy and smiling. He didn’t look like he fit in at all with Bangtan, but he must have.

V’s head rested against J-Hope’s shoulder. “I don’t like it when he’s this quiet.”

Seokjin took J-Hope’s temperature silently, and when the device beeped, he said, “Look at that. His temperature is down even more from the last time I checked it. V, I don’t want to make you believe that J-Hope is going to be back on his feet by tomorrow. That isn’t the case. But he’s improving more quickly than I anticipated.”

Next Seokjin checked J-Hope’s hand, and he was even more pleased that the sight of the wound was less red and irritated than it had been, the stitches were holding well, and all signs of infection were starting to calm down.

“So,” Seokjin told V. “I talked to Suga about J-Hope’s antibiotic routine. If you have questions, he can answer them, and if you stick to it, he’ll only need them for a couple of days more. But for now, I need to get back to the clinic.”

Lightning fast V reached out and snagged Seokjin’s wrist, his fingers getting tangled up almost comically in the bracelet Seokjin wore.

“Sorry,” V said, letting go. He took deep shuttering breaths. “But J-Hope needs you. You can’t go.”

“J-Hope,” Seokjin corrected, “is going to be just fine. All he needs is to continue to rest, take his antibiotics—the kind which can now be taken orally, and not run off getting into danger before he’s ready. With you here to watch over him, I know that’ll happen.”

“What if something goes wrong?” V demanded. “What if his fever spikes again?”

“I don’t anticipate it will,” Seokjin said, but then assured, “however, if anything happens, if you have any worries or even simple questions, you can always call me. I always have my phone on me, and I always answer or check my messages promptly. And if you think that you need to, you can bring J-Hope to the clinic, or I’ll come back over here. But V, I’m telling you, he’s going to be fine. By tomorrow, I think his fever will be completely gone, and the day after, he’ll be awake and alert enough to have a full conversation with you. This time next week? It’ll be as if nothing even happened.”

“I know, I know,” V said, going a bit boneless on the bed. “I’m sorry. I just … I worry.”

“You love him.”

V’s eyes darted over. “You … ah …”

“I can tell,” Seokjin said expertly. “It’s in the way you talk about him. I only needed to hear you say a few words about him for less than a minute, and I could tell.”

“And?”

“And what?” Seokjin asked lightly, straightening up.

“I don’t know,” V laughed. “Everyone else had a lot to say when J-Hope and I started dating. I thought you might too.”

Seokjin shrugged. “I think the two of you are clearly good for each other. So I can’t imagine anything else matters, let alone what I think. You take care of each other, that much I can see, and I bet you watch after each other, too. You have each other’s backs?”

V gave a silent nod.

“Then you’re good for each other,” Seokjin said. “And that’s all that matters.”

Seokjin was putting the last of his things away in the bag he’d brought when V asked him suddenly, “What’s that bracelet?”

Almost instinctively, Seokjin looked down at it. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” V said seriously. “I’m a nurse, remember?”

Seokjin chuckled. “It’s a medical alert bracelet. I wear it in case I need immediate medical attention, or I’m involved in an accident. It’s so my doctors, or whoever is treating me, knows exactly what my condition is, and how to avoid complications.”

There was no use in lying. The universal medical symbol on the top indicated that it was something related to his health, and V wasn’t an idiot.

V, slowly, eased out, “Complications? Medical alert?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Seokjin insisted. “It’s a condition I was born with, it’s something I manage with medication and frequent hospital checkups, and vigilance.”

“What kind of condition?”

Seokjin gathered up his bag. “It’s nothing you need to know about. The bracelet is only for emergencies, so don’t think about it.”

For a second more, Seokjin thought V might press the issue, but eventually he nodded and said, “Thank you for helping J-Hope, and for helping all of us time and time again. Thank you for coming when we need you, and letting us come to you. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, V.”

“Taehyung.”

Seokjin stopped. “Huh?”

On the bed, V finally detached himself from a sleeping J-Hope and sat up slowly. “My name … my real name. It’s Taehyung.”

It meant something. It meant something utterly profound and important that V was telling him what his actual name was. Because more and more Seokjin was starting to understand why Bangtan went by the ridiculous, almost laughable names. Namjoon did it to protect his family. Taehyung obviously did it to put a barrier between anyone who might hurt his friends and himself. Names were shields with Bangtan, and only the most trusted were let into the fold.

Formally, Seokjin bowed towards him. “It’s nice to properly meet you, Taehyung.”
 

“That’s Nurse Taehyung.”

“Of course,” Seokjin said with a chuckle. “Take care of J-Hope, okay? And call me for any reason if need be.”

When Seokjin was back out in the living room he was surprised to see that almost everyone was present, sitting around in various states.

Except for …

“So you’re all sitting around while my brother is out there doing your dirty work?” Seokjin said, eyes gaze sliding from Jimin, to Suga, and then to Namjoon. But he hoped they understood that there was no bite to his words.

“Actually,” Suga piped up, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “I think Jungkook is visiting your father.”

A little confused, Seokjin repeated, “Visiting my father?”

Jimin shrugged.

Namjoon didn’t look certain either, but neither was he meeting Seokjin’s gaze for more than a moment. The awkwardness was starting to reach maximum levels.

Then a second later Seokjin realized. “Oh!” he exclaimed louder than he’d intended. “He’s finally going to tell our father about Bangtan.”

“What!” Jimin demanded.

“He’s going to what?” Namjoon asked as well.

Seokjin felt a bit stupid, flailing his arms as he rushed to tell them, “Well, not Bangtan!” He took an even, calming breath amidst a tightening chest, and said, “I told Jungkook that he had to be honest with our father.”

“How?” Namjoon asked tersely.

“Our father thinks Jungkook has been wasting the summer away with friends, and that when the semester starts back up, he’ll be an incoming college freshman. He thinks that Jungkook is going to give into pressure and become a lawyer or accountant. We all know that’s the furthest thing from the possible truth. And I can’t let Jungkook perpetrate that kind of deceit. So I told him he had to tell our father.”

“Tell him exactly what?” Jimin asked, looking scary.

“Not that he’s gone and stupidly joined a gang,” Seokjin bit back without restraint. “I know that Jungkook can’t tell anyone he cares about, or even strangers for that matter, about Bangtan. But he can and does need to say something about not planning on going to college. He needs to come clean about his future plans not being what our father expects, and he can’t pretend like a better solution will suddenly present itself.”

Suga frowned. “Is your dad going to take that well?”

Seokjin nearly winced. “When I told my father I planned to open a clinic that would cater an impoverished public who couldn’t afford to seek medical treatment elsewhere, he threatened to disown me. He cut me off from the family financially, told me I had to move out, and lectured me for at least an hour about what a disappointment I was to him. He let me know he thought it was nothing but a wasted opportunity, that my dead mother would be ashamed of my selfishness, and that was just the beginning.”

Jimin balked. “Selfishness?”

“I was considered,” Seokjin told them, “to be the premier candidate in the oncology department during my residency. I studied with the best in Seoul and was being primed to take over a comfortable job that would mostly include research, a couple of incredibly difficult cases a year, and plenty of praise and awards from my colleagues. I could, my father argues, eventually have been a household name within medical community. He still, to this day, thinks I’m selfish for apparently wasting the talent I have and becoming his equivalent of a backwater voodoo doctor.”

Namjoon and Suga looked offended, but it was Jimin who said, “What an .”

Seokjin tried to give them a smile. “It’s okay. My father has always been like that, at least as long as I can remember. He’s suffered loss and trauma that has made him the way he is. And he’s entitled to his opinion. Because what he sees as a waste, is something I see as an opportunity. I like setting broken bones and delivering babies. I like people coming to see me before their conditions become irreparable, and I like saving lives through preventative measures that my patients can actually afford. Health care is not a privilege. It’s a right. One day my father might understand that, but if he doesn’t, that’s something I’ve learned to accept.”

Namjoon asked, “What do you think is going to happen with your brother?”

“I don’t know for certain,” Seokjin said honestly. “But what do I suspect is going to happen? I think my father is going to lose it. He’s going to blow up, and I’m going to end up being very thankful for Bangtan.”

Jimin snorted loudly.

“Really,” Seokjin said, and he hoped they believed him. “Because my father is probably going to kick him out. He’s going to say the same things to Jungkook that he said to me, and the difference is that when I had to leave home, I was on my own completely. I didn’t have anyone. But Jungkook will have you, and I know you’ll take care of him.”

Of that, he had no doubt.

“Anyway,” Seokjin pressed on. “I need to get back to the clinic. I wouldn’t leave if I wasn’t confident about J-Hope. So, should I get a cab?”

“I already offered to take you back,” Jimin said, straightening up. “But I forgot, you’re too good for my bike.”

“Sorry,” Seokjin told him, “I just don’t think there’s room enough for me on the back with your attitude taking up all that space.”

Jimin laughed loudly. “You didn’t seem to have a problem holding on tight to me the last time we rode together.”

Seokjin told him with false sweetness, “That’s because I was trying to squeeze the life out of you. Sadly, I failed.”

With amused eyes Suga asked, “Is there going to be a rumble?”

“I’ll take you back,” Namjoon said suddenly, getting to his feet. “It’s only fair. I brought you here in the first place.”

“Okay,” Seokjin said. Even the awkward car ride with Namjoon was bound to be better than a motorcycle ride with Jimin.

Jimin leaned back in his armchair and said in a sulking kind of way, “It’s just a motorcycle. It’s not going to hurt you.”

Suga asked Jimin, “You like to tell people you’ve never crashed, but didn’t you break your arm once when you wiped out on that thing?”

Just as Namjoon and Seokjin were slipping out of the apartment, the first of the sofa pillows started flying across the room, accompanied with a war cry.

When they were in the car and headed back towards the clinic, Namjoon kept his eyes locked on the road, but said, “I want to thank y--”

“Don’t,” Seokjin said sharply, leaning his head against the cool of the glass window. “If one more person thanks me for doing my job, I’m going to lose it.”

Namjoon didn’t answer back right away, but when he did, he said, “Your job is to show up at that clinic, see the people who come through the front door, and not screw up. Your job isn’t to constantly be at our beck and call, running off to take care of us as every chance. So when we say thank you, even if you’re tired of hearing it, just know that it’s because we know how much above and beyond this is for you, and we genuinely appreciate you.”

“All right,” Seokjin said quietly, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. “You’re welcome.”

As expected, Namjoon drove them to the back of the clinic, down the alleyway that Seokjin was becoming too familiar with.

But when he stopped the car, Seokjin hesitated. He told himself he was working up the courage to say something, but he wasn’t certain.

“I think we should talk,” Namjoon said, surprising Seokjin.

“About us?”

Namjoon gave a silent nod.

Seokjin steeled himself. “I want to say I’m sorry--about how confrontational I came off last time. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. That wasn’t fair. I just wanted you to understand that I had to fight really hard to be as independent as I am right now. And I’m not giving it up for anything. Or anyone.”

Softly, Namjoon said, “Because of your father?”

“Because of him,” Seokjin agreed. “I grew up very repressed. I had to do what he said, and I based my entire life around trying to please him. I fell in line a lot, and never questioned if what I wanted was more important that what he did. Me getting away from him, starting the clinic, and proving that I can stand on my own, is the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Namjoon turned to look at him. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“By having your friends follow me around? By having Bangtan report back to you where I go and what I do?”

Namjoon looked pained. “You’re special to me. If anything happened to you …”

“Danger will always be there,” Seokjin said knowingly. “And that’s just a part of the life we lead. But I can’t have you standing over me. I can’t have you so scared of that danger that you treat me like a child.”

“And what should I do instead?” Namjoon asked, sounding desperate. “Wait until either of us slips up in the slightest? Wait until someone in Infinite gets a little too nosey and spots something out of the ordinary? I’m supposed to just trust that you won’t get snatched off the street and disappear?”

“Namjoon--”

“No,” the other man said quickly, “that is a very real possibility to us associating, and you want me to pretend like it isn’t there. You want me to think that nothing will happen if anyone draws a connection between us, and that’s not the truth. But if Jimin is there, or Suga, and Infinite tries to make a move against you, they could be all the difference in the world you getting hurt.”

Quietly, Seokjin said, “Jimin said you already told them not to follow me around.”

“For now,” Namjoon said. “But if we get serious, if you become even more important to me, I can’t just let you walk into danger unprotected each day.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I don’t need your protection,” Seokjin huffed in a frustrated way. “I’m quick and smart. I can think my way out of a problem. And I’m not as helpless as you’d like to believe I am. I walked face first into danger each and every day before I met you, and will continue to hold my own in this neighborhood every day after. You attempting to protect me, is going to get me hurt. Do you understand that? You’re drawing attention to me. You’re painting the target on my back.”

Seokjin could see Namjoon’s fingers clench into fists in his lap.

“Maybe I am,” Namjoon said.

“You’re what?”

Namjoon gave him a heartbreaking look. “I’m making you a target. I’m putting the bullseye on you, and that’s not right.”

“I …”

Namjoon shook his head. “I meant every word I said to you that day I told you I thought you were an angel. I looked up at you and it felt like my heart started beating for the first time in my life. You’re gorgeous, you’re kind, and you’re incredibly intelligent. You go out of your way to help people, you act so selflessly you could put the best saint to shame, and you are the strongest person I have ever met in my life. I … I talk about you becoming more precious to me, but the truth is you’re already precious. You’re already the most precious person I have in my life, next to my grandparents, and I will do anything to protect you.”

“Namjoon.”

“Even,” Namjoon added, “even if that means you’ll be the safest away from me, and away from Bangtan.”

Shakily, Seokjin felt his breath caught in his throat. “You don’t get to make that kind of choice for me.”

“That choice has already been made for us,” Namjoon argued. “Infinite didn’t have a single reason to look at you until we stumbled into your clinic and brought all kinds of trouble with us. And if we’re gone, they won’t have a second reason to look.”

“Don’t,” Seokjin warned. Reaching for Namjoon’s hand.

“I have to.”

“That’s bull,” Seokjin snapped. “You running away from this, from us, is not the way to solve this. We need to talk this through and come up with a solution that works for us. You don’t need to once again try and decide things for me. You’re the leader of Bangtan, you’re not the leader of me.”

Namjoon shook Seokjin’s hand away. “Infinite has no idea that Jungkook is even associated with us. I’ve kept him under the radar for a reason. So he can still come here. He can still come see you and the two of you can just be normal. If stuff is really going down with your father, I have a feeling he’ll need you.”

Seokjin blinked rapidly as he felt his eyes start to burn. “Tell me what you’re saying. Tell me plainly, and only say the things you really mean. Tell me what you won’t want to take back when you’ve had more time to think about this.”

Seokjin’s eyes were stinging, but Namjoon’s were actually wet as he told Seokjin, “Me being around you isn’t possible anymore. I have very strong feelings for you, but I won’t put those feelings before your wellbeing. I won’t be with you. That’s what I’m saying.”

Seokjin clenched down on his teeth so hard he was surprised there was no cracking.

“You don’t want us to try.”

“No,” Namjoon said. “I won’t try.”

Seokjin, with trembling fingers, reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered. “I can’t … I won’t be the one to get you hurt. You’re right. You can take care of yourself if I’m not there. And as much as I like you, it isn’t worth your safety.”

The barest hint of light that managed to make it through the tinted windows, and it bounced off Seokjin’s medical alert bracelet peeking out from underneath his sleeve.

“Does it matter what I want?” Seokjin asked him. “Does it matter that you make me happy? Does it matter I’m willing to work on us and find a way for us to be together? Even if it isn’t easy? Does it matter to you at all that this isn’t what I want for us? Because I see an us?”

“No.”

Seokjin twisted his wrist and said, “I have a heart condition. I’ve had it since birth and it’s only getting worse. I’m going to die from it one day, and that day is probably going to be a lot sooner than I want. I joke about Jimin’s bike being a bomb, but my heart truly is, and I don’t know the time on it counting down. And living like that? Knowing that every time my heart stutters or my chest goes tight, that I could be on my way to the morgue, has made me more inclined to fight for what I want. And so I’m telling you that I want you. I want whatever we could possibly have, and I was willing to fight for a chance at it.”

Regret streaked its way across Namjoon’s face, but also resolve.

“I don’t connect easily to people who aren’t my patients,” Seokjin admitted, feeling almost like the air was thin. “I find it hard to date, and sometimes hard to trust people. But with you it was different. With you…”

Shaking his head, Sokjin gave a huff and then pushed out of the car at once. It took a second to get his feet firmly underneath him. And once that was done, he took a moment to steady himself. He heard Namjoon called after him, “Seokjin--”

Seokjin closed the door to the car behind him. Then, trying his best to put Namjoon from his mind, he cut down the rest of the alleyway so he could go around the building and enter through the front.

There were only a couple people in the waiting room when Seokjin entered, and despite the pain he was feeling inside, he made sure to greet each of them and smile as warmly as he could possibly manage.

Most of the staff, as usual, had gone from for the day already, but Seokjin was surprised Victoria was still present. He hadn’t expected her to pull a twelve hour day.

“You look pretty bad,” she told him honestly, but cracked a smile to let him know she didn’t mean it in a rude way. Plus, it was likely the truth. He hadn’t started crying, no matter how badly he was sure he wanted to. But he was stressed and upset, and of course it was reflecting on his face.

“You’re still here.”

Victoria shrugged. “Changmin won’t be home for another couple of hours. I didn’t want to go home to an empty house. Plus, someone skipped out early, so I decided to pick up the pace.”

“Sorry,” Seokjin said, trying for normalcy in his voice. “I had an emergency call I had to respond to. It happens rarely, but once in a while I have to go to a patient.”

And now all he wanted was to climb the stairs to his apartment, crawl into bed, and hold his pillow tight. He wanted to desperately try to pretend that Namjoon didn’t seem to think they were worth fighting for, and that Namjoon didn’t want to try and see if things could work between them.

Seokjin understood that things were new with them. He understood that neither of them had put much into their relationship yet, and they’d only shared a single kiss. But all the potential in the world had been there. And Seokjin had felt something special. Namjoon had truly made Seokjin happy, like he hadn’t been in a while. And now it was gone before Seokjin had had a chance to enjoy any of it.

“I understand,” Victoria said, not seemingly irritated in the least bit. “Excited for tomorrow?”

Seokjin blinked slowly. “Tomorrow?”

Victoria arched an eyebrow. “The gala?”

Seokjin could have pulled out his hair in that moment. The gala. He’d completely forgotten about the gala.

“You forgot,” Victoria accused.

“I didn’t,” he lied. “Tomorrow night. Nine. I have your address and I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

“Okay,” Victoria said, but he didn’t think she believed him.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he swore, then gave her a parting wave. “I’ll see you then.”

She turned away and Seokjin crumpled a bit, falling back against the nearest wall, in air almost frantically as all of the sudden the hurt and the pain of Namjoon discarding him caught up with him. He clutched a hand to his chest and closed his eyes, his head tipping back against the wall.

It wasn’t fair. After so long of thinking he’d be married to his work, he’d finally found someone he liked. And there’d been hurdles to get over, major issues to resolve, but Namjoon had proven time and time again he was a better person than Seokjin had initially given him credit for.

But it had been all for nothing.

And now Seokjin was alone again, married once more to his work. It left him feeling lonelier than ever, and never so full of regret.