Characters: Kyungsoo x Chanyeol

One year prior.

The rain was sharp, cold, heavy and unforgiving that night as if to punish those who do wrong.

A shadow was watching from the entrance of a dark alleyway towards an apartment complex, the light burning brightly in his bloodshot eyes. His target just came home around ten minutes ago, seemingly exhausted after a long day at work. The shadow didn't care in the slightest. More serious matters at hand, he set himself in motion.

Once he crossed the street, avoiding puddles, the heavy downpour washing away any bloodstains on the ground, he knocked on the door. Looking left and right while holding his bloody shoulder, leaning against the doorframe, he waited for the apartment owner to open the door. Wiping the excess blood off his gold-rimmed glasses, he put them back on, when he heard movement behind the door.

A drowsy looking Chanyeol opened the door, still wearing his light blue button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened around the collar. More importantly, at least in the man's eyes, Chanyeol was wearing no pants.
Taking in the appearance of the man before him, his drowsiness was gone the second he recognized the drenched and bloody man.

The intruder, on the other hand, momentarily forgot his mishap and gulped heavily at the sight before him or, more specifically, Chanyeol's exposed legs.

"K-K-K-Kyungsoo?!" Chanyeol blushed furiously as if he remembered something.
The blush rising on Chanyeol's face wasn't helping Kyungsoo in any way. Rather, his throat suddenly felt extremely dry and he would do almost anything for a dead body to divert his attention anywhere but Chanyeol. There was a worse matter at hand.

"Why are you being weird?"
"I accidentally opened the door without pants on and the embarrassment is going to follow me for the rest of my existence. Wait, what happened to your shoulder?! Is that a gunshot wound?!"
"Well," Kyungsoo was shuffling uncontrollably due to the pain and the excitement, and he wished dearly the last one wouldn't take place, damn those butterflies on a rampage in his stomach. As a result of his shuffling, his suit jacket shifted and gave away the shoulder holster he was wearing underneath, gun tightly tucked away in it.
Chanyeol's eyes widened, but returned to work mode right away, "You'll tell me after I treat your wound."

No chance for Kyungsoo to argue against the doctor.

After wearing sweatpants, much to Kyungsoo’s dismay, Chanyeol started to help Kyungsoo get rid of his clothes.

“Don’t worry, they won’t go off, the safety switch is in the safe position and the magazines are empty anyway—” Kyungsoo mumbled the last part more to himself, but Chanyeol heard it nonetheless. His hands stopped in their motion for a split second before he continued to struggle with the shoulder holster, trying to avoid the guns at any point.
Chanyeol just scoffed and put the pistols and holster out of anyone’s reach.

“Be glad I’m working in the ER and that this isn’t the first time I see a gunshot wound. Man, I ing hate this city.”
Kyungsoo chose to remain silent.
“Just don’t try to kill me after I tended to your wounds.”
Kyungsoo stared at him wide-eyed, “Why would I?”
“Because I know with some certainty you don’t work as a police officer. I guess you’re no small unimportant office worker as well, right? Well, according to all those piercings on your face, I guess not...” Chanyeol just laughed dryly.
Kyungsoo noticed a change in Chanyeol’s eyes, the split second he looked up to Kyungsoo. It changed from anger to, he wasn’t too sure, pity? Sadness?

Chanyeol sat cross-legged before Kyungsoo on the couch, ing the bloody dress shirt. In any other situation, Kyungsoo would have felt delighted with the sight before him, but this wasn’t the right time. It never was.

Pulling the shirt halfway down to Kyungsoo’s upper arm, Chanyeol inspected the wound in all seriousness and dabbed around the wound with a wet towel in order to get rid of the excess blood and to get a better look. Kyungsoo hissed at the sudden pain. Abruptly, Chanyeol started speaking again.

“Is that the reason you prefer black clothes, not bothering about the season? Because you won’t spot the blood at first glance?”
Without waiting for an answer, he signalled to Kyungsoo to show some initiative while pulling off the bullet-resistant vest he was wearing underneath the shirt.

Kyungsoo would have jumped Chanyeol in any other case, really, but right now, he just felt abnormally vulnerable and he ing hated it and the effect the other man had on him. He just felt like he lost his closest and dearest friend outside the syndicate, his only friend.

“I need to stitch it, the bullet might have grazed your collar bone, the wound itself doesn’t look too bad. About the bone, well, I would recommend an x-ray scan, I can’t see anything for sure now.”
“I can’t go to the hospital! Well, technically I could, but...” Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s wrist with his wounded arm and regretted it right afterwards, not because of the pain, but the bloody handprint he left on the older’s wrist, “Ah-I-I’m sorry—”

He retreated his hand, but Chanyeol gently grabbed it and started cleaning his bloody hand before he continued with the other one.

“I guess it’s not your blood, at least not all of it? The blood of the bullet wound just started to soak through your suit jacket. Give me your glasses, there’s still some blood on the bottom rim. I’ll wipe it off.”

Kyungsoo just silently stared at his hands, balling them into fists. Dropping his head, tears fell from his eyes. Once the dam was broken, more and more tears started to fall, collecting themselves on the tip of his nose, before falling on his balled fists. Chanyeol enveloped Kyungsoo in a hug, avoiding the wound. Kyungsoo tensed for a second, afterwards he just bailed his eyes out and Chanyeol let him, his back and hair in an affectionate manner. After some time, the crying ceased and turned into an unpleasant hiccuping. Chanyeol’s hands wandered up to Kyungsoo’s face, cupping it in his large hands and lifting the face up.

Kyungsoo averted his eyes.

“Kyungsoo, look at me.”

Biting his lower lip, Kyungsoo cautiously looked back ahead of him. Chanyeol smiled sadly at him, away the leftover and stray tears with his thumbs.

“You look ugly”, he softly bumped their foreheads together and closed his eyes, “Tell me everything, you can’t escape me as long as I’m treating your wound.”
He moved his head back and looked at Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo already missed the warmth of Chanyeol’s hands on his cheeks. He blushed when he realised that Chanyeol was holding his hands and was rubbing circles on his palms.

Kyungsoo was checking the moving range of his bandaged arm.

“Is it too tight?”
“You should have pulled it even tighter, stopping the blood circulation. I deserve it. Glad it was only a stray bullet.”
“Hey!” Chanyeol leaned back in the cushion he put between his back and the armrest. He rested his long legs on Kyungsoo’s and was pouting, “Before I am your friend, I am a doctor.”
“Alright, alright. Mind if I smoke in your room?” Kyungsoo had his sock-clad feet on the glass couch table, the beer in his hand rested on Chanyeol’s knee. Rolling his head to the side, he looked at Chanyeol. Those puckered lips looked too kissable in Kyungsoo’s opinion and he had to divert his eyes.
“Go ahead, the ashtray is under the table.”

Kyungsoo leaned forward and tried to reach the table, but Chanyeol’s knees were a high obstacle, waving his hand a little more, he just managed to graze the upper side of the table with his fingertips. Defeated, he slumped back into the couch and huffed out a sound of frustration.

“Still too short, I see”, Chanyeol chuckled. Kyungsoo glared at him. The taller man reached behind the armrest and brought another ashtray to light.

“er!” Kyungsoo boxed Chanyeol’s stomach, who winced in response.

“This isn’t the right behaviour a patient should show their doctors. And as your doctor, I should inform you that you shouldn’t drink under the influence of medication.”
“You er gave me the beer and you refuse to give me any painkillers.”
“I gave you a local anaesthetic ”, Chanyeol shot back.

The TV was playing an infomercial about an “innovative” cutting system for vegetables, the sound of the TV was almost drowned by the heavy downpour outside. The rain was clashing against the half-opened shutters.

“So”, Chanyeol cleared his throat, “You’re telling me that you’re the head of the local mafia? Right? And you guys, more specifically you, were ambushed by your own men, because you and the upper brigade, at least the main part of it, decided it was time for a change of scenery, a more legal approach in the financial sector? But it’s looking good because you guys have the upper hand? And you got away because your assistant made way for you? What about the police? I won’t even ask about the missing bullets...”
Kyungsoo nodded while he was trying to decipher what the ugly asshead tried to sell beside that cutter, “Bribing.”

“Kyungsoo, we’re friends for, what, seven years?”
“Nine and a few”, Kyungsoo corrected him, still staring at the TV. He propped his elbows on Chanyeol’s knees and tried to sit cross-legged without losing the TV from his line of sight.

“Nine, and you tell me now that you’re a ing mafia boss?! When did you plan to tell me that?”
“Never?” he tilted his head towards Chanyeol and stared at him questioningly about to drink his beer, the opening of the beer bottle rested on his lower lip. At this moment, he just looked so adorable in Chanyeol’s oversized sweater and the dry-rubbed hair, Chanyeol had problems repressing himself, because he knew what was under that sweater. He didn't want to do anything rash he might regret afterwards. He always admired Kyungsoo’s tattoos, especially the armillary sphere on his now wounded shoulder. Chanyeol accompanied Kyungsoo when he got it. But he never knew what was beneath the clothes and he was happy to know now, maybe a tad bit too excited.

“Chanyeol, I can’t go around telling people I’m the head of the mafia or that my business is mainly consisting of dealing with weaponry and money laundering! And why the are you so ing accepting of the fact that I’m probably the reason you have some patients with gunshot wounds from time to time?”

“Because till this point none of them died on my watch, seems like you guys don’t actually try to kill people or you kill ‘em without any chance to even save them. And I forgive you because you decided to disrupt me of all people and didn’t threaten a poor vet to fix you up”, Chanyeol scoffed back, “Just imagine what could have happened!”

“Did you think about the potential influx of patients in the ER after tonight? Won’t they call you in?”
“I’m home with a nasty cold and I’m on vacation since today.”
“You sure don’t sound like it and didn’t you come back earlier from work?”
“Who said I still suffer from it? Well, I was there on short term notice, because one of my patients decided to throw a tantrum.”
Kyungsoo still couldn’t believe how ing considerate the giant was. They work in clashing work fields.
Chanyeol pulled his legs off Kyungsoo and made a 180° turn, placing his cushion in Kyungsoo’s lap and rested his head on it. Turning away from Kyungsoo, he whispered to himself, “Where do you take that boldness from, Park Chanyeol?”

“Hmm?”
“Nothing! Now, peasant, behave thyself! I might buy that thing on TV and need to get every possible information about it before I spend a ton of money on some useless ”, Chanyeol answered a tad too fast.
He could literally hear Kyungsoo’s nasty smirk when the younger one started to speak. He did not expect to receive an answer within this close proximity to his ear, while Kyungsoo was tilting Chanyeol's chin slightly upwards with his fingers, “Finally admitting your crush on me, Park Chanyeol?”
“What?! I think the not!”, Chanyeol was blushing furiously, quick to cover his ear from Kyungsoo’s hot breath and sultry insult. Unfortunately, he missed the way there was also a blush rising on Kyungsoo’s face who was smiling sheepishly.

Until both of them fell asleep, the mafia boss the doctor’s hair in a soft and loving manner, humming softly while the infomercial channel was still boasting about the newest innovation the world hasn’t seen since their grandparents’ days.

The rain was still pondering, but in a softer, rhythmic pattern, against the windows.