"Min Yoon Gi. What did I tell you about trying to make this work?"

Yoongi grimaces at his friend's voice blaring through the phone. He has to hold the device away from his ear just save his poor eardrums. Jimin doesn't even wait for a reply before he launches into a full on tirade.

"I told you to try and make this work because I really needed someone I could depend on to take care of you because you're literally my platonic soulmate and I worry about your stubborn ass every waking moment of my day and I fucking love you to death and you repay me by nearly dying because you're afraid of getting naked for a medical professional?"

"Wow," Yoongi breathes out, placing the phone back to his ear. "I think that was the longest sentence ever."

Jimin scoffs and lets out this little affronted growl he does sometimes when Yoongi's pushed him particularly too far. "Too long? That's what you got out of that? I swear, if I was there right now, I would smack you upside the head for being such a dumbass."

"Hey, don't be such a brat," Yoongi chides. He couldn't go back to sleep after this morning's shitshow with his father, so he's just been sitting in his studio fucking around. Nothing is coming easy to him today and he thinks it's because he hasn't gone through his usual morning routine. He managed to piss this morning but that's about the extent of productivity— that is, until Jimin called.

There's a shuffling on the line and Yoongi can hear one of Jimin's brothers say hello along with the high-pitched laughter of Mr. Park. He remembers those voices, had many a dinner with Jimin's family growing up.

"Sorry, we were out getting breakfast when I listened to Taehyung's voicemail," Jimin explains. "We're home now though. Going to try to spend the day with my mom as much as possible."

Fiddling with the worn black notebook on his desk, Yoongi sighs. He feels bad that his best friend is trying to focus on the short amount of time he has left with his mother while Yoongi is fucking up what should be such a simple professional arrangement. "How is she doing?" he asks, genuinely curious. Normally, it would be rude to inquire about such things, but their friendship is extremely transparent and Mrs. Park had been like a second mother to him at one point.

"Well, it's not good," Jimin admits with a sigh. "The doctors said that they're surprised she's held on this long. They think she's pushing herself because she knew I was coming to visit."

"Shit, I'm sorry Jimin. I'm really fucking sorry." Yoongi feels a deep sorrow for his friend, for this woman who is nearing the end of her life. He wonders briefly what he would do if his own mother were in such a dire state, but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth so he pushes away the thought.

Jimin sounds tired. "Yeah, well, cancer is a bitch."

Yoongi swallows hard, recalling the strange conversation he had with Taehyung after the hospital. He will never forget the way the nurse's face fell when he confessed that his girlfriend had died of the same disease and that he had been the one to see her through her final days. For all his quirks and general annoying tendencies, it appears that Taehyung is actually a decent human being and Yoongi has no idea why it's so hard for him to wrap his mind around that.

"Well, tell her I said hello, ok?" He hears Jimin giggle on the other end of the line at Yoongi's fondness. "She did always like me better," he teases.

Jimin is full on snorting with laughter now. "That's because she thought your accent was so cute! That, and you looked like one of those grumpy cats— so fucking adorable when pissed."

"I am not adorable," Yoongi spits back, only slightly offended. He really doesn't mind when Jimin compliments him. It's truly a testament to how much he craves affection from the other even now.

"You're the cutest, hyung. If I wasn't as straight as a ruler then we would have a house with two adopted kids and a poodle or something by now."

Yoongi has to laugh at that. "Yeah? Never took you for the type to marry your best friend." He says this, but it's not like he hasn't ever imagined the same scenario before, back when he was a confused teen and Jimin started filling out in places where boys don't usually have curves.

"Mmm, I would be all over you, hyung," Jimin assures. "You're handsome, smart, talented, and really sweet when you're not being a stubborn asshole. And besides, relationships built on friendships are literally the best because you can get really intimate quickly and then there's always this sweet tension behind everything. It's honestly kind of magical."

Humming, Yoongi considers this for a moment. Jimin is really his only true friend. Sure, he has his employees like Hobi or Seokjin with whom he is really well acquainted with, and even his co-worker Namjoon, but Jimin has been the only constant relationship in his life. Anything outside of that was nothing but sex or platonic need. So, in a way, he has absolutely no idea what Jimin is referring to and he has nothing to compare it to.

"I guess I'll just have to take your word for it," he replies lazily, distracted by the different email notifications popping up on his computer. "Things would've been easier if you were gay. Maybe I would still have my legs."

The line goes silent for a few heartbeats and Yoongi recalls his father's proposition about the experimental surgery. Should he tell Jimin about it? Could his friend even help seeing as how he is fiercely protective? The younger would tell Yoongi to tell his father to fuck off, but it's not as easy as that.

Yoongi is pretty successful in his career, but not nearly successful enough to pay for his medical care on his own.

Jimin speaks again, breaking the strange melancholy. His tone is much softer than what Yoongi is used to. "Hyung, why won't you let Taehyung-ah help you shower? Plenty of doctors and nurses have seen you naked. Is it really that scary?"

"I'm not scared."

"Bullshit," Jimin retorts. "Can we do that thing where we just call each other out on our shit, please? Because you can't survive for two whole months without bathing and you're sure as hell not attempting to do it yourself again or I'll knock you out myself."

Rubbing his temples furiously, Yoongi sighs. "I don't know what you want me to say, Jimin. It's just fucking weird, ok? It's different when you're in a hospital and shit. Here it's like... it's like I'm a child or something. It fucking sucks." He knows it sounds ridiculous, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels insurmountable.

"He's literally doing the exact same job as me."

"Yeah, well I trust you not to make fun of me, ok?" Yoongi pouts. "I trust you to see me like that and still think of me as a person."

"Hyung, why would anyone make fun of you? Have you seen you? You're the only guy who makes me admit that I might want to adopt two kids and have a poodle and live in gay harmony."

Yoongi chuckles at this. "Jimin, you love women way too much. Also, please don't do that thing where you ignore my obvious flaw."

"Hyung, you don't have a flaw besides being an ass—"

"Jimin, my fucking legs are shriveled up." Yoongi just sits there after his statement, feeling the familiar urge to self-depreciate bubbling up inside. "I can't fucking walk. And you're a saint, so you really don't even notice half the time, but other people do. Other people look at me the way they look at cats with chewed off ears or dogs with mange. Like 'oh, that's sad, but oh well'. I just— I just don't want someone like him to see me like that."

"Someone like him?" Jimin sounds curious and just a tad teasing.

"You know what I fucking mean. Someone who doesn't know me for my charming personality."

"Yes, heaven forbid someone form opinions about you before they get to fully experience the famous Min Yoongi charisma," Jimin deadpans.

"Fuck off, Jimin."

"Mmm, I love you too, Hyungie."

Yoongi groans at the circular conversation. He resists the urge to physically slam his head into the desk. He already has one head injury and he doesn't think he can take another.

"My point is, you have to start learning to trust other people with yourself, hyung," Jimin continues on. "You know I'll always be there for you but don't you want to make new friends, new relationships? You don't want to live the rest of your life being scared of other people just because of some perceived flaw you have."

"It's not perceived—"

Jimin huffs. "Hyung, I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again. You can't walk and that's not a big fucking deal. I could be one of those people and say that you just need to surround yourself with people that love you in spite of your differences, but fuck that. Why not find people that see your disability as an ability to live life in a unique way?"

"Like you do?"

"Yes, hyung, like I do."

Leaning back in his desk chair, Yoongi stares out of the window at the skyline of Seoul. He wonders about the people out there, living millions of different lives, some like his, some vastly different. Like his friend said, Yoongi used to believe that he would have to settle for this half-life of always apologizing for the ways he is lacking— and part of him still can't let go of this way of thinking— but hasn't he done what Jimin suggested? All of his employees are his friends, people who are there for him and who look at him with respect rather than pity.

He wipes away the sudden wetness in his eyes at the thought. "Shit, Jimin."

His friend giggles. "Oh, is Hyungie tearing up?"

"Shut up, I'm just... cutting onions or something." Jimin laughs boisterously at that and Yoongi revels in the familiar sound. He likes Jimin's voice just a little too much. "Are you sure you're not gay? I'm really tempted to try to bring you over to our side."

Jimin hums in contemplation. "Ooh, do you have cookies over there? Because I may be convinced."

"Tons of cookies," Yoongi assures. "Rainbow cookies."

"Well, I'll give it some thought but no promises," Jimin pauses to take a breath, "But, you have to make me a promise, hyung."

Yoongi's pulse starts to quicken. He knows where this is going. "Oh, what's that?"

"I'm not going to force you to do anything uncomfortable, but promise me that if Taehyung-ah makes an effort to make you feel better about the situation, that you will consider letting him help you."

Yoongi narrows his eyes. "Why? Did you give him advice or some shit? Like a Yoongi instruction manual?"

"Oh fuck, that would be so helpful if such a thing existed!" Jimin seems thrilled at the idea. "No, I just told him to try and put himself in your shoes and think of ways to make things easier for you. It really helped me when I first started caring for you. It's amazing what you realize when you see everything through someone else's eyes."

Yoongi knows better than to argue with his friend. "Well, thank you, I guess."

"Just promise me, hyung?"

"You require a lot of promises."

"Only because I know you're a strong enough man to keep them."

Smiling into the phone, Yoongi nods his head. "Miss you."

Jimin sighs wistfully. "Miss you too, hyung. I'll be back before you know it. You promise me, right?"

"I promise."

Yoongi can practically hear Jimin grinning through the phone.

—————

Taehyung-ssi,

I can definitely take on your client. Send me the details and we can start as soon as possible. Thanks!

With a sigh, Taehyung deletes the email and stares down at his phone. Beside him, Yeontan curls up in a little ball on the bed, watching his owner with a wagging tongue and cocked head.

"Why did I do that, Tannie?" Taehyung asks his pet. "Why did I tell him that no one would fill in for me?"

Blinking, Yeontan presses his nose to Taehyung's forearm in silent commiseration. Taehyung smiles at this and reclines back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. Currently, Yoongi is holed up in his studio, so Taehyung decided to try his own self-enforced isolation as punishment for his very unprofessional behavior.

Why is this job so hard? He's had hundreds of patients between school, residency, and home healthcare, but why was this one particular patient testing his resolve? Yoongi obviously didn't like him. He didn't trust Taehyung enough to let him help the elder and that's why Yoongi had ended up in the hospital.

Jimin had assured Taehyung that it wasn't his fault, that Yoongi was just stubborn and self-conscious, but what was he to think? Apparently, his patient would rather risk life and limb than let Taehyung in and that did not make for a very good working relationship nor was it beneficial for either one of them.

So the logical choice would be to find a replacement, another nurse who could handle Yoongi and that the patient could trust. It couldn't be that hard, seeing as how Yoongi had let the nurses at the hospital bathe him.

It was just Taehyung he disliked apparently.

So why on earth did he decide to stay?

Why?

"His dad is an asshole," Taehyung tells Yeontan as an explanation for his behavior. "I kind of feel bad for him. I mean, he gave Yoongi-ssi an ultimatum between this scary surgery and practically being disowned... I can't just quit on him, you know?"

Resting his head on the blanket, Yeontan stares.

"I know, I know. Pity isn't a good reason to continue a bad work relationship but it's not just that...." Taehyung swallows hard and Yeontan's ears perk up as if to say continue, please. "So, he looks exactly like... someone I used to love and it's confusing because he's.... not her. He's a guy, a completely different person but— Tannie, he's so quick-witted and funny when he wants to be. And he plays the piano. The piano."

Yeontan yawns and licks his paw.

"What am I supposed to do? I became a nurse to help people like I couldn't help her and so it's hard for me to walk away from someone who looks like her. That's logical, right? I'm not crazy, right?"

Soft snores drift up from the blanket and Taehyung softens at the sight of his dog falling asleep. He checks the time and notes that it's around the hour that Yoongi usually gets out of therapy— of course, Jungkook isn't coming today because of the incident, but Jimin's pep talk earlier had inspired Taehyung to take initiative. If he's going to continue caring for Yoongi, then he needs to do this right. And that means being the best, most hospitable version of himself possible despite the circumstances.

Yoongi is already out in the living room, looking out of the large window onto the Seoul traffic below. It's shaping up to be a beautiful day despite the rude awakening this morning and it's with renewed hope that Taehyung approaches his patient.

"Hey."

Yoongi turns around in his chair and blinks. He looks exhausted and annoyed, but the nurse isn't deterred.

He can be professional. He's good at his job. He knows this.

"So, I think we should talk about a few things," Taehyung begins, clasping his hands in front of him. Unlike this morning, he's freshly showered and dressed in his scrubs with his baby mullet combed out. He decided against the ponytail at the last minute. "First, I wanted to say that I'm sorry that I made you feel uncomfortable in anyway. I didn't intend to, but I respect your feelings."

Yoongi blinks at him and lets out a little yawn. Taehyung tries not to compare the man to Yeontan.

"Second, we really need to communicate better if this is going to work. If you're unhappy about anything I'm doing, anything at all, please tell me. I want to know."

Yoongi nods minutely; at least Taehyung thinks that was a nod. He thinks there was movement involved.

"Ok, um, and lastly, about bathing, I want to make a deal with you."

This does get Yoongi's attention, and the elder snorts, his feline eyes scrunching up. "What kind of deal?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Taehyung just dives right into it, Jimin's encouraging words echoing in his head. "Well, since the idea of me helping you bathe makes you feel..... uncomfortable, then I figured we would make things even and I will do something uncomfortable to show you that you can trust me."

Everything falls silent. Yoongi is staring at the nurse like he just grew a second head and then the man opens his small mouth and begins cackling. "Oh my god, you what?" his patient nearly shrieks in laughter. "You honestly think that will work?"

Taehyung tries not deflate at the reaction. "Well, yeah. I thought it would work, I mean that's kind of how I got this job.... making deals and stuff..."

"There are not enough fake tattoos on this planet to convince me to let you help me bathe." Yoongi is still laughing, like the suggestion is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "You're funny, Taehyung-ssi. You're really funny."

Crossing his arms, Taehyung really does pout then. So much for being professional. "What do you want me to do? Let you undress me so you can see that it's no big deal?"

Oh, Taehyung wishes he could grab the words and shove them back in his mouth. He desperately, desperately, wishes he could.

Yoongi isn't laughing anymore. His eyes are wide and filled with panic and Taehyung can just hear the phone call to his healthcare agency now, accusing him of trying to sexually harass a patient.

Why the fuck can he not stay professional around this man? It was just a joke!

"That was a joke," Taehyung blurts out at the same time that Yoongi says, "Ok."

They stare at each other with raised brows. The air in the room feels oddly warm.

"What?" They both ask.

Taehyung laughs out of sheer anxiety, an awkward grating sound that Yeontan usually barks at.

"I said ok," Yoongi clarifies. There's a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. He's obviously calling Taehyung's bluff as he's done many times before.

Had Taehyung been an actual professional and not reduced to a bumbling, flustered idiot, he wouldn't rise to the challenge, but that obviously hasn't worked out in his favor so far.

Instead he says, "Then let's do it."

"Ok," Yoongi repeats, face like stone but his eyes portray his shock.

"Yeah." Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder towards the second floor. "Let's go upstairs then."

"Ok." Yoongi apparently only has one word in his vocabulary now.

Taehyung doesn't blame him.

"The ramp or the lift?" the nurse asks after he takes control of Yoongi's chair and begins to push.

His patient turns slightly to grin up at him. "The ramp will be fine."

Taehyung grimaces. Yoongi is a little shit.

Unlike the first time Taehyung had used the ramp, the process goes much smoother, and he tries to hide a smirk at the surprised expression on Yoongi's face when he has no problems pushing the chair up it in record time.

"You ok?" he asks, leaning over the back of the chair until his face is near Yoongi's.

His patient sputters, his face reddening, but then he points towards the hallway and scowls. "Let's get this over with."

With a laugh, Taehyung begins directing them towards the bedroom. "What's wrong? Not excited to get me naked?" He's now fully intent on calling his patient's bluff. Yoongi thinks he's so clever but Taehyung has had years of embarrassing himself— he can play this game out until Yoongi concedes.

No problem.

Except, Yoongi doesn't concede— at least he doesn't right away.

They make it into the bedroom and Taehyung leaves his patient in the middle of the room before pointing towards the bathroom. "Sorry about the door, by the way." He laughs awkwardly. "It was either break it down myself or call the medics to do it and I couldn't let you lie in there for any longer.."

Yoongi makes a strange face at this, one that Taehyung has never seen before. He's seen anger, enragement, sorrow, and annoyance on the man's face before, but never this, never— guilt?

"You must've been really worried to commit property damage," Yoongi mocks, his gaze unwavering.

Shrugging, Taehyung looks towards the broken door. "Well, you wouldn't respond and I knew something was wrong."

"Why didn't you call an ambulance?"

"It would take too long. You needed help immediately," the nurse explains.

Yoongi eyes him for a few more moments before rolling his eyes. "It wasn't that big of a deal. So I fucking fell. Shit happens." The man begins rolling towards the bathroom, obviously attempting to run away from the conversation, but Taehyung catches him by the arm. He knows better than to grab the elder like this, but he needs him to understand the gravity of the situation.

"Yoongi-ssi, you could've died if the head injury had been more severe," he intones, staring right into his patient's eyes. "I'll apologize for a lot of things, but I won't apologize for caring about you."

Yanking his arm away, Yoongi laughs coldly. "You mean doing your job? Look, I'll apologize for things too, like being an asshole or pushing my limits, but don't tell me that you care about me when you don't even know me."

Then the man is making his way into the bathroom, leaving Taehyung impossibly frustrated.

Why can't he get this right? He's trying so hard to be hospitable! He even apologized for making Yoongi uncomfortable and yet every moment has been like walking in a mine field. He's just doing his job.

What more could this man want from him?

With a sigh, Taehyung follows after his patient and stands in the doorway. Yoongi is staring at the shower stall.

"Why do you hate me so much?" he asks, forsaking all his careful wording in favor of being blunt.

Yoongi doesn't turn around to speak to him. He just sits there. "I don't fucking hate you."

"Yeah, you do. Everything I say, you take offense to."

"Then don't say offensive shit."

"How is me telling you that I care about you offensive?"

Yoongi's hands grasp the armrests of his chair and the knuckles go white. "Because you can't," he grits out, voice rising in volume. "You are nothing but a nurse and I'm an invalid. You will never understand me, therefore you can never care about me, ok? That's why it's fucking offensive."

Stunned, Taehyung remains in the doorway, trying to understand why he feels so offended. The logic does make sense for someone who has been traumatized, but Taehyung wants to argue that it's not like that for everyone, that you can care for someone and never truly know what their experience is like, but you can try, and that's what counts.

"Jimin-hyung cares about you," he tries. "Do you think he understands?"

"Jimin... Jimin cares, but only as much as he can." Yoongi sounds annoyed, yet in his words there's traces of disappointment.

"You know what I think?" Taehyung begins, stepping into the space. "I think you only let him care about you to a certain extent and then you cut him off."

"What did I tell you about trying to assume you know me?"

Taehyung comes to a halt in the middle of the bathroom. His patient is still facing away from him. "Yoongi-ssi, I—" he stops then, knowing that his next words would only lead to another circular argument and that's not what he sought the other out for. "Fuck, I'm sorry, ok? You're right. I'm just doing my job, so let's— let's just do this ok?" No response. Taehyung feels himself floundering. He can't have Yoongi shut him out. "I still meant what I said about making a deal," he states, moving closer. "I want you to at least trust me with this."

Yoongi backs up and turns around. His face is like stone. "Then strip, I guess."

Surprised, the nurse looks for any sign that Yoongi is bluffing, but all he sees are dark eyes staring back him with an odd resolve flickering in the irises. "I-I was joking when I said that earlier. We can find another way to—"

"Actually, I believe you mentioned letting me undress you, so come over here." There's a smile playing on Yoongi's lips, something between amused and self-degrading.

Taehyung doesn't dare move. "It was a joke—"

"Not to me," Yoongi retorts. "Why? Do you suddenly care, Taehyung-ah? How unprofessional."

Oh, and that burns, the way this man can just twist salt right into the cuts in Taehyung's personality. "I know you're just doing this to prove a point or call my bluff or whatever, so it's ok, but you don't have to do this, Yoongi-ssi."

Yoongi grins at this, mostly gums, but it's unnerving regardless. He cocks his head and looks the nurse over. "Do you think I'm scared? Don't worry, you're not the first man I've undressed."

Taehyung feels his skin heat up at the statement and he has no idea why. Sure, this a strange, embarrassing situation, but his body is acting as if he's flustered by his patient's words, which is... odd.

Perhaps it's because Yoongi is referencing his sexuality and that makes Taehyung uncomfortable because it's such unfamiliar territory. He just doesn't know how to respond correctly.

Surely that's it.

He swallows hard. "If I let you undress me, then will you feel better about letting me help you bathe?"

"Yeah, that's the deal, right?" Yoongi looks so self-assure, it's almost alarming.

"That's the deal, but it means shit if you're still uncomfortable afterwards," the nurse clarifies. "I won't force myself on you, Yoongi-ssi. I want you to want it."

Right before Taehyung's eyes, his patient loses his mask of cool indifference and his face blooms red. Yoongi looks how Taehyung feels and he doesn't understand what he did wrong.

"Just— Let's get this over with," Yoongi huffs. "Come over here."

Taehyung swallows the lump in his throat and approaches the elder. He comes to stand in front of Yoongi, and the man looks up at him from the chair, his feline eyes rounding ever so slightly.

"Ok, so you can start with—"

Taehyung doesn't even get the whole sentence out before Yoongi's long, pale fingers are ghosting over the hem of his scrub top, stroking the fabric. The man grabs ahold of the shirt and tugs it up just above Taehyung's nipples and the nurse shimmies out of it once it becomes too difficult for Yoongi to maneuver since he can't stand up. The top flutters to the ground.

And that's how Taehyung finds himself shirtless in front of his boss for the second time in a day. Self-conscious, he crosses his arms to shield himself.

Yoongi lets out a snort at the motion. "Are you embarrassed or something? I saw you shirtless this morning."

"Yeah, but we were focused on your father. You didn't get to look at me properly... not that I'm much to look at." Taehyung knows his self-depreciation is misplaced, but he can't help it. He really didn't have much of a complex before moving to Seoul, but the men here are different than the ones from his hometown. They take care of their skin, style their hair, and have gym memberships.

Taehyung buys boxed bleach from the store, cheap cherry chapstick, and actively tries to avoid doing anything other than walking his dog or running to catch the bus.

Yoongi really laughs at this. "Why the fuck do you say that? Your legs work just fine. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"People can be embarrassed about their bodies whether or not they can walk," Taehyung fires back, though it sounds more pouty than intended. He stares down at his patient who is looking him over curiously, which only causes Taehyung to hide himself further.

Yoongi arches a brow after his quick examination. "Ok, so what's the problem? You got a third nipple or something?"

"No! I'm just kind of... soft." Taehyung's voice is squeaky and he's standing in the bathroom, half-naked with another man eager to keep undressing him.

Just... wow.

"Soft?" Yoongi questions, his gaze snapping to the nurse's stomach and lingering there.

Taehyung squirms in embarrassment. "Yeah, you know, like I don't have abs but I'm not overweight. I'm just... soft."

Slowly, Yoongi reaches out until his fingers brush over the exposed skin that Taehyung isn't hiding. The nurse wants to flinch away, but the feeling of his patient's cool skin is sort of soothing. Yoongi pokes him. "This is what you're so embarrassed of? That's stupid."

"Easy for you to say! You've got the body of a Greek god," Taehyung blurts out, feeling all kinds of flustered from the attention. Why is Yoongi looking at him like that? Why are they still touching?

Yoongi brings his gaze up to the nurse's face. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Oh no.

Taehyung rethinks his words and blanches. "W-Well, I mean because of your abs," he clarifies, "and arms. They're nice and like.... toned."

Blinking, Yoongi purses his mouth in a little "o" before shaking away his surprise. "Uh, yeah, I guess that happens when you have to rely on your upper body to do everything. I have to move my own dead weight around, so..."

"Well, it's nice." Taehyung finds himself so out of his element that he's babbling at this point. "Your body, I mean. Like, from a jealous perspective. Yeah, wait no— I wish I had your body on mine— Shit! I mean, your body with my head on it. No, no, like I wish I had a body like yours.... That's all."

Silence stretches taut between them after the outburst and Taehyung hugs himself tighter. Yoongi is still touching him.

"Are you done panicking now?" his patient asks coolly, taking back his hand and placing it on his lap.

Taehyung lets out a breath in relief. "Yeah."

"Good. Was this your plan all along?" Yoongi is staring at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What?"

"Was it your plan to make such a complete idiot out of yourself so that I would laugh and feel better about this whole thing?"

Taehyung looks at Yoongi, then looks at his shirt on the floor, then looks back to Yoongi. "Uh, is it working?"

"Yeah, it's actually fucking working."

"Then..... yes," the nurse declares, standing up straighter. "That was my plan."

Could it be that he had finally done something right?

Yoongi narrows his eyes even further and purses his little lips. "Ok... then I feel comfortable now. We can get this whole bathing thing done with then."

Taehyung tries not to grin. He really does, but he feels so victorious in this moment; no matter how ridiculous, this is a big deal for their relationship.

One small step for Taehyung, one giant leap for Yoongi-kind.

—————

It's nothing like when Jimin does it.

That's the first thought that flickers into Yoongi's mind when Taehyung kneels before him to begin undressing him. First, his shoes, then his socks.

Yoongi is supposed to be taking off his shirt but he's too occupied with watching Taehyung's hands ghost over fabric and undo the button on his pants. His hands are shaking slightly. The nurse is nervous and this fact is the only thing keeping Yoongi sane.

"Yoongi-ssi," Taehyung whispers and his voice is low, dripping like honey onto Yoongi's now bare thighs as the pants are pulled down, down, down, and his hips are lifted until he's sitting there in his underwear and shirt feeling completely vulnerable.

Why is this so different? Taehyung has changed him several times now and had even picked his nude unconscious body off the floor. Why is his heart stuttering in his chest and why does Taehyung keep clearing his throat?

"Yoongi-ssi," Taehyung repeats, looking up at him from underneath long lashes, "do you need help with your shirt?"

"Uh." Yoongi quickly snaps his mouth shut and pulls his t-shirt over his head. He drops it into the pile of clothing on the floor.

Now there's only one thing left.

Why does this feel so different?

Taehyung's long fingers come to rest on the waistband of Yoongi's underwear. The nurse is still gazing up at him, eyes as deep and rich as his voice, and Yoongi is reminded of his first inclination to dispose of Taehyung the moment he first met him.

Because of moments like this.

Moments where his breath is caught in his throat and those dark eyes watch him, their gaze drifting over his face to land on Yoongi's lips before flitting away. Moments where he longs for human contact that isn't meant to help, but meant to set fire to his skin and consume his senses.

He isn't prepared when Taehyung completely disrobes him; one moment he's stuck in his head, waxing poetic about the fucking tiny freckle on Taehyung's right nostril and the next, his underwear is sliding down his legs and he's... bare.

Taehyung tries to play it off, but Yoongi notices that the nurse looks. It's brighter in the bathroom than the bedroom, and under the harsh lighting, Yoongi knows he looks more jarring than usual.

Of course, he's battered and bruised from falling in the bathroom, but there is also severe scarring all over his legs, little patches of shiny pale skin puckered and warped. Some of them are perpetually red and angry, and those are where the metal of the car had hooked itself into his flesh upon impact.

Besides the wounds, his legs are still intact, but they're small, the muscle long atrophied from disuse and sometimes Yoongi likens them to a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks, the kind you get with a cup of street noodles, all warped and apt to give you splinters.

"Do you remember it?" Taehyung asks suddenly, moving to turn on the shower. The nurse makes a point of not looking directly at Yoongi.

"The accident? Uh, I remember a little, mostly just being scared shitless and pinned in the car. But I don't remember how I got there," he lies.

He lies; Yoongi remembers all too clearly what lead him to that remote road. He remembers gripping the wheel. He remembers pushing the accelerator to the floor.

He remembers, but he doesn't want to.

"It must've been terrifying. I can't even imagine." The shower is running now and warm, moist air seeps out from inside the stall.

Yoongi is lost in thought, lost in the way Taehyung's voice is filled with such sorrow, sorrow for someone he doesn't even really know. He wonders if he knew all of Taehyung's trauma, if he could feel the same. "Do you remember it?" he finds himself asking the nurse. "Do you remember the day she—" He shuts his mouth. Even he knows when he's crossed a line.

Taehyung is looking at him once more, surprised. "Yeah.... It just kind of happened," he admits, blinking, and just when Yoongi is about to apologize for even binging it up, the nurse continues. "I was with her almost every day, just waiting for her to get better. Then one day her heart stopped, but they managed to resuscitate her. It wasn't the same after that and then she just..." tears begin to glisten in the corners of Taehyung's eyes and Yoongi— cold-hearted, numb-to-the-world, Yoongi— feels guilty.

"I—"

"She just kind of stopped caring, you know? It's like she knew there wasn't any way to survive it, so she just... shutdown. She tried everything to push me away, push her parents away. I think she thought that if we hated her, it would hurt less but—"

"It hurts more," Yoongi finishes and Taehyung just stares at him. "It's like, they're already dead but they're still there, and you can't get any peace."

The water is running, the air is growing hotter, and Taehyung just stares and stares, until he isn't anymore.

"Come on, let's get you into the shower chair."

It's a testament to how much Yoongi is caught up in their brief, but telling conversation that he doesn't shy away from Taehyung leaning down to pick Yoongi up and out of the wheelchair. He just wraps his arms around the nurse's neck and clings to him, feeling his large, warm hands wrap around his torso and supporting his weight.

Then he's being carefully deposited into the shower chair and Taehyung is leaning in the stall doorway.

"Do you have everything you need?" the nurse asks, and Yoongi does, but he feels a peculiar answer bubble up in response.

No.

Instead, he nods his head and Taehyung closes the door softly with a click. "Let me know when you're done."

Yoongi doesn't respond; he feels like he's not even real as he washes himself. Like he's floating out of his body and watching this strange, broken man sitting in the shower staring at the glass walls fogged over with steam.

Who is this person? Why do they suddenly feel so empty— or rather, emptier than before?

Yoongi didn't think it was possible.

He hardly notices when Taehyung opens the shower door with concerned eyes. Time must've passed and Yoongi didn't call for him.

The plushness of a towel barely registers as it glides over his skin, and Yoongi can't even enjoy the way he's leaning into Taehyung while the nurse dries him off, can't even bask in the man's herbal cologne and the way he breathes deeply while he works Yoongi's skin over.

No, he can't feel anything because he knows that as soon as he does, he'll realize what he's truly missing, and it's more than just a pair of functional legs.

——————-

Yoongi can't sleep. It's been three hours since his shower; three hours since a monumental shift in his relationship with his new caretaker.

He can't quite put a name to the feeling, but he needs to do something, something to rid him of this restlessness and the thoughts of Taehyung gazing up at him from the floor.

He needs—

He gets like this sometimes; indescribably needy and dare he say it— horny.

Usually some hot sake and some porn help smooth things over until he can fall into a drunken slumber, but not tonight. Even if he were to get downstairs and into the liquor cabinet, it wouldn't do my good.

Yoongi feels hot in his skin, in his baggy pajamas as he lies there cradled in blankets.

He needs—

Jimin picks up on the third ring and his voice is understandably breathy on the other end of the call.

"Hyung, it's three in the morning."

"I'm lonely," Yoongi admits and everything goes silent.

He's not sure when they started doing this or why moments like these only exist in the middle of the night, but every time he gets to this place, he doesn't care.

He just.... needs.

Jimin clears his throat and he can hear the sound of the younger locking a door. It's a smart choice- they don't want to be interrupted during whatever this is. "Yeah?" he breathes. "Why are you lonely, hyung?"

Sighing, Yoongi settles into the bed further, bringing his hand to play with the waistband on his pants. "I've just been thinking lately, about what I have and... what I used to have," he confesses into the dark. "Makes me realize that I lost more than just my independence, you know?"

It's not often that he speaks so openly, but this is Jimin, and this is one of those moments that he just needs.

He needs—

"If I was with you, you wouldn't be so lonely."

It always starts like this; the madness of diving headfirst into that long rabbit hole.

Yoongi closes his eyes at the low drawl of Jimin's voice, the Busan satoori mixing sweetly with his tone. His fingers begin to tease the inch of skin exposed above his pants. "Yeah? What would you do?"

There's a little tinkling laugh filtering through the phone and Yoongi knows there's no backing out of this. He also knows that they will never speak of this moment, so he better enjoy it while it lasts.

"Are you lying down, hyung?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm, maybe I would be on top of you."

Sucking in a deep breath, Yoongi shoves his hand down his pants. He presses his palm flat over himself and feels a little sensation, mostly just pressure, but it's enough. He's done this before and if he's mentally stimulated enough, his body will follow. "I want that," he admits. "Shit, Jimin—"

"I would kiss you," Jimin purrs, his voice soft and airy. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"

"N-Neck," Yoongi rasps out, grinding the heel of his hand into himself before fondling his flaccid shaft with a few fingers. It takes a bit of work, but he can do it, he can do it—

"I would kiss your neck, hyung, lick that vein that pops up when you're angry. Suckle your skin." A breathy little laugh. "Mmm, you taste good."

There's a twitch beneath his fingers, a sign that his cock is stirring to life even though he can barely feel it.

"Jimin, Jimin—"

"Shh, baby, I've got you," Jimin coos. "When I'm done marking you up, I'll kiss your chest and play with you. You like that, don't you? Me playing with your nipples, biting my way down to your thighs?"

It's filthy, the way Jimin talks to him. Because it's not just the words, it's the visual of his best friend hovering over him, sliding down his legs, stimulating Yoongi in all the right places— places he can actually feel.

He's hard now, fisting himself and squeezing just to feel the pressure, the slight pain that lets him know that one day he could feel again, he could enjoy this like any other man with a partner who wants him and not a sympathetic friend who—

"Hyungie, are you touching yourself for me?" Jimin questions sweetly. "Getting off just to the thought of me kissing you? Dirty little boy."

Yoongi doesn't respond with words, he merely groans into the phone at the feeling of his cock in his hand. Since he can't feel much, he focuses on the weight and girth in his palm because it's almost like another man is with him and he wants so badly.

"It's my hand, Yoongi," Jimin tells him, his voice breathy through the phone, ringing in Yoongi's ear. "I'm touching you, hyung, jerking off that big dick of yours. It's big, you know that? I was surprised when I first saw it. Fuck, you're so big for me."

Yoongi lets out a stuttered moan at Jimin's provocative words but then seconds later, he feels it— a little jolt of pleasure shooting from his shaft and he could almost cry because it's the first sensation he's felt in that area for awhile now. Had this been another lifetime filled with drugs and parties, he would've been embarrassed at how fast and sudden he comes, but today he cries.

Cries because for a few fleeting moments, it felt good and for a few moments, he didn't wish he was enough for someone else; he knew.

He was normal again.

Jimin's sweet voice calls out to him. "Hyung, are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah," Yoongi gasps out, coming down from his high. He groans at the wetness all over his hand and in his boxers. He has no idea how he will clean himself and he's too lazy to try. "Just— Well, you know."

Jimin giggles. "I'm glad to help."

"I'm sorry," Yoongi blurts out suddenly, staring at the ceiling. He burns with shame. "I'm sorry that I need shit like this."

"No, no. I understand. It makes sense and that's why I don't mind," Jimin assures. "Everyone needs human contact. Everyone wants to feel wanted."

Everyone wants to feel wanted.

Yoongi considers this as he says goodnight to Jimin and throws his phone down on the bed beside him.

That's what his problem was.

It's not Taehyung he wants, he just wants someone, anyone. Why else would he do shit like this with his best friend who is straight? Why else would he start randomly noticing things about a stranger who is his employee?

He was like this with Hobi and Jungkook to some extent when they both started working for him; Yoongi can't help it that he's surrounded with attractive people and he hasn't gotten laid in nearly four years.

Four years.

It's an eternity to the able-bodied, but his self-conscious and traumatized mind made this barely seem like a second, but now that he's lying awake in the dark with his cum-covered hand down his pants, he realizes the absurdity of it.

He needs—

He needs to find someone to fuck.

Looking over at his phone lying in the bedsheets, he ponders the possibility of posting a profile online somewhere. Surely someone on this planet would want him.

Surely, he could move on from this abject and doomed fascination with his nurse.