Three weeks later, Taekwoon joined Hakyeon in the kitchen with a soft sigh. “You’re such a klutz lately. It’s unlike you.” The man pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. He was contemplating moving it to the counter permanently; it seemed like it barely made it to the cupboard before they were pulling it out again to patch Hakyeon up. He had been a trouble magnet more than usual for the past month, and neither man could explain it. This time, Hakyeon had fumbled with the tea kettle and managed to splash boiling water on himself. The water burned a blotchy stripe on his side though his t-shirt. Taekwoon gently dried and covered the area with clean gauze so his shirt wouldn’t rub it when he moved.

“Maybe we should put you in a padded room,” Taekwoon said, repacking the first aid kit. He paused. “The ceiling would probably collapse on your head.” Hakyeon couldn’t even muster up a smart- reply. He was beginning to agree.

Taekwoon stood and replaced the kit before walking around the table and resting his hands on Hakyeon’s shoulders. “I’ve got to go to work. I’d like to say don’t move, but…”

“Yeah,” Hakyeon sighed, “The chair would probably break under me. I have to go to work anyway.”

Taekwoon tugged Hakyeon out of his chair, turned him around, and pulled him into a hug. He rested his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder, hunching slightly because of the height difference. “Be careful, please.”

Tucked in the curve of Taekwoon’s neck, Hakyeon’s eyes widened a little, slightly shocked. Taekwoon rarely said please. His stupid injuries must be taking a toll on his poor husband. He was somewhat of a worrier, but no one would ever guess because he was so good at hiding it. “I will,” Hakyeon replied just as softly. He tightened the hug, squishing Taekwoon into him before letting him go. “Go to work. I’ll be okay.” Taekwoon’s deadpan look seemed to suggest he was spouting lies, but Hakyeon couldn’t say anything else.

***

Hakyeon tripped getting into the car and banged his shin painfully on the open door. “Really?” he asked the empty garage, “Already?” He made a disgusted face before carefully entering the car and gently shutting the door. He took his time backing out of the driveway, pulling into the street, and heading toward work. Hakyeon would do everything in his admittedly small power to arrive at work unscathed.

Of course, he made it to work okay, but the workday was a wash. Hakyeon stalked to the break room to get coffee an hour into his shift; he hadn’t been sleeping well and was yawning so much he could barely read his computer screen. The room was empty save for the hum of the overhead lights and the soft gurgling of the coffee pot. He threaded his way through the gauntlet of bland tables and chairs to reach the back counter. The company generously kept paper cups in the cupboard for coffee.

Yawning again, Hakyeon pulled down a cup and grabbed the full pot of coffee, filling his cup about three quarters of the way. He blew on the steam while he replaced the pot. Yawning mightily, Hakyeon leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, letting his head loll on his neck and stretching the muscles. The coffee was still too hot to drink. Taekwoon was at school now, probably doing his best to teach basic reading to a bunch of unruly seven year olds. Despite his inscrutable appearance, Taekwoon actually loved kids and they loved him back. There was one kid in particular that Taekwoon always told him about, Sanghyuk, who had attached to him like a leech after their first day of class.

Smiling a little dopily at the thought of his gorgeous husband who was a dream with kids, Hakyeon let his eyes slide open again so he was staring at his shoes. He couldn’t wait to get home and find Taekwoon on the couch, face serious as he updated and double checked his curriculum for the next day. He took his job so seriously; it was completely endearing.

Hakyeon sipped on his cooling coffee, thinking that he should probably get back to work. But he was just so tired this morning, he hadn’t…Hakyeon paused. Was it a trick of his eyes? Had he nodded off for a second?  He could have sworn he saw his shadow flicker. Frowning, he took another sip of his coffee, the drink hot and bitter on his tongue. He glanced up at the lights, but each long fluorescent bulb was brightly lit without a flicker in sight. The light switch was fully flipped up, not hovering in a sort of in-between limbo where the connection could be made or broken by a strong gust of air.

I really needed to wake up, Hakyeon decided, taking a large gulp of his coffee. He returned to inspecting his shoes: black dress shoes with a tear on the side of the left toes and scuffs on the heels. They would have to be replaced soon, but he really didn’t want to spend the money. He surreptitiously kept an eye on his shadow, slightly suspicious but still unwilling to admit that it was more than his overactive imagination. He stared at it until his eyes went blurry, but nothing changed. Hakyeon gulped down the dregs of his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash, turning toward the door.

He took a step forward but his foot didn't connect with ground. It was yanked out from under him. Hakyeon stumbled, arms reaching for something to catch himself on. He crashed into the counter, banging his hip painfully and accidentally throwing his elbow into the coffee machine. The pot slid out of its groove and crashed to the floor along with Hakyeon, who landed with one arm twisted beneath him and the other gripping the edge of the counter for dear life. His shadow flickered madly, but Hakyeon couldn’t see it.

A few of his coworkers hurried in, alarmed by the loud crash. They paused in the doorway, shocked, before scattering into the room. One went for the broom in the back corner while two others reached to carefully help Hakyeon off the floor.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Can you sit up or move at all?” a young man asked worriedly. An older woman stepped in front of him, and spoke calmly. “Here, let me help you up.” Hakyeon pulled himself up from the floor, arm shaking, and the woman guided him away from the shattered remains of the coffee pot. Hakyeon cradled his injured arm with his uninjured hand as sharp pain shot through his wrist. Though his right wrist didn’t hurt that badly, he could’ve cried. It was just one thing, one injury after another. Would he ever catch a break?

Hearing the commotion from down the hall, Hakyeon’s boss made his way from his office and toward the crowd surrounding the disaster in the break room. The crowd cleared and Mr. Lee, an incredibly kind and intelligent man with a coif of slowly greying hair, stood in front of Hakyeon, who was resting in a comfortable chair.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Lee asked, resting a gentle hand on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Hakyeon tried to flex his wrist to see if he could work through the pain, but a sharp zing prevented any further movement. He frowned unattractively while his coworker scolded him for trying to move it.

“I can’t use my right hand, it hurts too much,” Hakyeon uttered morosely, face pinched with pain.

Mr. Lee frowned sympathetically and crossed his arms. The other employees in the room fell silent. Glass tinkled as it was swept into the plastic dustpan. “N, you’re one of the best workers we have, and I’ve seen all of the injuries you’ve been coming in with lately. You seem to be quite the trouble magnet these days. You’ll be unable to work with an injured wrist, especially since it’s your dominant hand. I think you need a break.” The man nodded decisively, as if confirming the statement with himself.

Hakyeon looked alarmed, eyes wide and mouth dropping open. “What? I can’t afford to take a break!” he instantly responded.

As soon as his boss saw that Hakyeon was going to argue, he forcefully cut him off. “It’ll be a week of paid vacation, maybe two, depending on how well you’re doing at the end of the first week. I know you have enough days saved up anyway. If you’re really concerned about not being productive, feel free to do some work at home as long as you don’t hurt yourself more.” Hakyeon’s rebellious look slowly faded as he listened. “Now,” Mr. Lee said, clapping his hands together, “We better take you to the hospital, just to make sure that you didn’t break anything other than the coffee pot.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a small, kindly smile.

Stunned into silence by his boss’s explanation and generosity, Hakyeon allowed himself to be tugged up from his chair, around the gritty pool of coffee on the linoleum, and out the door.

***

At the hospital Hakyeon was faced with an intimidating stack of paperwork that he had to fill out before the doctor could see him. He glanced down at his wrist, then up at the paperwork, then to his wrist, the paperwork. Seeing his horrified expression, his coworker was kind enough to grab a pen, drop into the chair next to him, and help him fill out his information. Hakyeon groaned miserably, mind picturing with disturbing clarity the inconvenience of having his dominant hand out of commission. His coworker glanced up at him a bit worriedly, but returned to the paperwork when Hakyeon helplessly waved him off. He worked with such good people.

After the paperwork had been turned in, Hakyeon turned to his colleague. “Thanks so much for helping me. You are a godsend.”

“No problem,” the woman replied. “Do you need me to stay with you? I’m sure Mr. Lee would understand.”

Hakyeon smiled gratefully, but shook his head. “You can head back to work and tell everyone what happened. I’m sure they’re all dying to know the details. I’ll call my husband and have him come get me.”

His colleague smiled and gave Hakyeon’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I hope you feel better. And try not to hurt yourself anymore!” A morbid chuckle escaped from Hakyeon’s throat before he could stop it. “Believe me,” he sighed, “I’m trying.” With that, his coworker turned around and walked away, looking back slightly to make sure that Hakyeon hadn’t changed his mind. Throwing Hakyeon a little wave, she stepped through the automatic doors into the bright sun and was gone.

Hakyeon  huffed disconsolately, feeling immensely alone. His arm still hurt, and he knew that Taekwoon wouldn’t be out of school for a while, but asking his coworker to stay made him feel guilty. Hakyeon was pondering how he was going to get home eventually when a nurse bustled through a swinging door and called, “Hakyeon? Jung Hakyeon?”

Perking up in his chair, Hakyeon called, “That’s me!” and raised his good hand so the man could find him, not that the ER waiting room was packed. The nurse smiled in Hakyeon’s direction, clutching a clipboard. “The doctor is ready for you, so come on back, please.” Hakyeon got to his feet and headed to the nurse. “Hello, my name is Donghae,” the nurse kindly informed him, stepping through a set of doors into the heart of the hospital.

Hakyeon followed him through the swinging doors, making sure not to jostle his arm. Seeing that he was obviously favoring one arm, Nurse Donghae held the door open so it wouldn’t whack Hakyeon on his way through. Muttering a small thank you, Hakyeon followed him through the maze of identical hospital hallways.

The nurse efficiently settled Hakyeon in his room. With a calm, practiced voice, he said, “The doctor is on her way. It’ll take a few minutes at the most,” and then promptly disappeared.

Hakyeon’s thoughts drifted to Taekwoon, who had been so worried about him lately. He felt bad that his husband had no idea that anything had gone wrong or that Hakyeon was in the hospital. It’s not like his injury was life-threatening, but Taekwoon was going to be upset that he didn’t know right away. Well, Hakyeon thought, If it was the other way around, I would be pretty mad too. His head thunked back onto the wall. I should call him now, before this hole gets dug any deeper. Puffing his cheeks up, Hakyeon resigned himself to calling and upsetting Taekwoon with another disaster.

He was interrupted, however, when the doctor knocked politely on the door and entered. With a professional smile, the short woman introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Dr. Kim. How are you doing, Mr. Jung?” Hakyeon thought that was an odd question considering their location, but answered nonetheless.

“Well, I’ve had better days,” he lamented, using his left hand to gesture at his right. If the good doctor noticed his growing collection of scrapes and bruises, she didn’t say anything. She scooted closer to Hakyeon’s chair and gently took hold of his arm. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Hakyeon embarrassedly explained the tripping and coffee pot incident. Dr. Kim nodded sympathetically making the black bun on the back of her head dip hypnotically. Hakyeon watched it move up and down as he told his story, speech slowing as he got distracted.

“Hmm,” Dr. Kim hummed, “From the way you’re carrying your arm, I’d say your wrist probably isn’t broken. Is it alright if I feel in a few places and you tell me how much it hurts?” Hakyeon acquiesced and Dr. Kim shifted her hands to his slightly swollen wrist. She applied gentle pressure in multiple places, asking if certain things hurt, and if so, how badly on a scale of one to ten.

“We’ll send you for x-rays to be sure, but it looks like it’s just a sprain. If the x-rays agree, we’ll give you a splint that you should wear for the next week. Avoid doing almost anything with that hand until it stops hurting and you can move it normally.” Dr. Kim released his arm. Hakyeon tucked it back into his lap, careful not to flex it. “You can ice it today to reduce the swelling,” she continued, “Other than that, you just have to wait for it to heal on its own.” The doctor smiled, apparently happy that Hakyeon’s injury was relatively minor. Hakyeon returned the expression, glad that his accident wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. “We’ll get you right through x-ray, find a brace that fits, and then you’ll be free to go.”

Hakyeon thanked her profusely. Dr. Kim accepted his gratitude with practiced grace. “The nurse who brought you in, Donghae, will take you for x-rays, get you a brace, and help you check out.” She paused at the doorway. “Watch where you step, alright? I don’t want to see you back here anytime soon,” she added warmly.

Shortly after the doctor left, Donghae made his return. He led Hakyeon through the labyrinthine hallways to the x-ray department and back to the room. The young nurse constantly sang under his breath, humming when he didn’t know the words and breaking into enthusiastic song when something reminded him of lyrics he knew. Several other nurses jumped in as they walked by or bobbed their heads at their work stations when Donghae passed. Hakyeon could barely hold back his chuckles. It cheered him up immensely.

Donghae explained the ins and outs of the wrist brace with ease, showing Hakyeon how to strap it on correctly and explaining when he should stop wearing it. His wrist throbbed after the brace was in place. Hakyeon could feel his pulse hammering against the stiff leather though his heartbeat was calm and steady.

After the final paperwork was filled out, Hakyeon returned to the lobby, still not sure how he was going to get home. Slumping into the chair he’d inhabited earlier, he wiggled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at his contacts. Taekwoon’s unsmiling face stared back. Hakyeon had managed to get the drop on Taekwoon and get his picture when the man had least been expecting it. The glare Taekwoon had thrown at him when he realized what happened was about ten times stronger than the stare in the picture, but his coworkers always said that Taekwoon looked angry. They really had no idea.

Taekwoon’s lunch break would be starting soon. Though he was so stoic and could even appear uncaring, Hakyeon knew how much he enjoyed working with kids. His husband really was the best. And now Hakyeon was going to ruin his day. His foot tapped agitatedly against the thin carpeting. Hakyeon unlocked the phone screen again, smirked at the picture of Taekwoon’s blank stare, and pressed the call button. Taekwoon wouldn’t have his ringer on during class, but he often turned it back on during lunch just in case Hakyeon wanted to pester him.

Pressing the ringing phone against his ear, Hakyeon bit his lip and hoped that Taekwoon would pick up. A mother and her small daughter hurried into the ER waiting room, the child sobbing loudly and clinging to her mom’s arm. The phone rang again, the tone warbling slightly. The mother began speaking rapid-fire to a harassed-looking nurse who was tucked behind a desk. Perhaps Taekwoon had his phone on silent after all. Just when Hakyeon was about to hang up and call again, the ringing abruptly cut off. The line was silent for a moment, followed by a very soft, “Hakyeon?”

“Hi Taekwoon. How’s your day going?” Hakyeon asked casually, trying to play it off like he was calling for no particular reason. He was met with silence. It didn’t work. He could never hide things from Taekwoon; the man could figure him out in two seconds flat. It was actually a little frustrating when he needed to hide something and had a legitimate reason for doing so. Smiling, Hakyeon continued, “I’ll take that as good, then.” He paused. “My day has actually been quite eventful.”

Taekwoon cut in, voice urgent but still soft. “Are you hurt?” The man knew him too well and considering Hakyeon’s track record from the last few months, Taekwoon rightly figured that Hakyeon had gotten into some ridiculous accident.

Hakyeon closed his eyes. The bright fluorescent lights in the room bled through his eyelids, not allowing him to plunge into comforting darkness. “Yeah. I sprained my wrist and I’m at the hospital. Is it possible for you to come get me? A coworker drove me over and I don’t want to risk driving with one of my hands out of commission, but I don’t want to leave the car here or I’d just take a taxi.”

“I’ll take a taxi and come and get you,” Taekwoon offered immediately, only sounding vaguely upset. Hakyeon knew it had the potential to grow to explosive levels if not dismantled as early as possible.

“Sorry for being such a pain,” Hakyeon said sweetly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” was Taekwoon’s instant reply.