taesan x fem reader. | wc: 3k
tags: based off of sanriwooz in the 'home' film essay, fluff, hurt/comfort, tiny bit of angst, best friends to ?, taesan's real name is used
warnings: mentions of sickness (unspecified), emotional distress, overworking, not eating; reader is in the hospital; self-deprecating thoughts
a/n: i loved the film essay dearly, it had so much fanfic material 😮💨 taesan and riwoo's scenes were soooooo asdfjshfk i had to write something about it. also i've very much been in a taesan mood lately :> this is only semi-edited, so idrk if it's any good, but hope you enjoy! <3
♫ this side of paradise - coyote theory | call me - boynextdoor
you've been staring at the blank, off-white wall for a very long time. too long, in fact, that the cracks between the linoleum have started to look like they're alive and actively spreading and it feels like it's your brain that's cracking in half.
an hour ago—more or less, you've lost track at this point—you had been staring at the ceiling fan instead. its measured, monotone spinning seemed comforting at first, almost soothing you to sleep like a soundless lullaby, but then you remembered that every attempt to sleep only led to horrid nightmares that had you jolting up with tears streaming down your face.
so you didn't sleep. and now, the four sterile corners of the hospital are taking its turn at driving you insane.
you inhale deeply, letting your breath completely fill your lungs, feeling the expanse of your chest before letting it out slowly in a sigh—one laced with the fatigue and hopelessness that's been familiar for as long as you've known.
you've reached your breaking point—that's why you're here now. exhausted; overworked to the point of collapse. too many things to do and not enough time to do them. a brain that's so crowded with taunting "what if"s and the impending doom of the future and a heart squeezed dry of every emotion you could possibly feel.
it's been a lot, all at once.
so, for nearly a week now, you've been stuck in a bed tucked in the corner of a hospital ward, with two nurses and a doctor hovering over you day in and day out. checking your vitals, giving you medicine, bringing you meals and reminding you to actually eat them. they tell you to do things you never end up doing.
it was strange at first. you're not used to the attention—hell, you barely gave yourself attention to the point you got sick—and you don't know exactly what to do with it.
you've always been in the shadows; a silent soul just drifting past, and prefer to keep it that way. no one really pays you any mind, and you're okay with it. a truth, an unspoken rule you've long accepted.
a strange boy, one you've known for much longer than you expected. your neighbor of ten years and your best friend of eight. though, you still reluctantly call him that while he thinks it's his best title achieved. there's a disparity in the way you view your dynamics, but if there's one thing you're both sure of, it's that he cares about you. a lot. annoyingly and stubbornly a lot.
while everyone around you seems dead set on ignoring your existence; in dongmin's eyes, you're the only person he sees. his world revolves around you, whether he knows it or not, and whatever he does is for you and about you. he's always stuck to your side; he knows you inside and out; he's there at your every beck and call and takes care of you before you ask for it, even when you don't ask for it. you don't know whether to feel flattered or concerned at this point. you're grateful for him, though.
no one has seen you the way dongmin does.
the curtain beside you rattles as someone pushes it aside. you look up, eyes half-lidded, expecting the nurse to show up for her nightly rounds. a head of tousled black hair and a lazy smirk greets you instead.
"hey. you look like shit."
"thanks, dongmin. you've called me worse." dongmin stands at the edge of your bed, clad in his signature black hoodie and work vest. one hand tucked in his pocket, the other clutched around a plastic bag that looks suspiciously like it holds pizza boxes. he looks like he's just come from a late delivery shift. you immediately feel bad.
"what are you doing here? it's late," he nudges at your knee and you shuffle to make space for him. "i told you not to come visit when it's late."
"and when have i ever listened to you, hm?" the smirk on his face widens into the grin he has when he knows he's won over you, but quickly softens into something more gentle.
"pizza?" he lifts the plastic bag. you shake your head. "no, i already ate. the nurse was going to smack me upright in the head if i didn't eat dinner earlier. thank you, though."
dongmin pouts. "you like the hospital food that tastes like cardboard over the pizza that i specifically ordered for you in the way you like it?"
"don't say it like that. now i feel bad."
he chuckles, all fond around the edges. "of course you do. that's why i'm saying it."
there's a lull when you get too tired to continue the conversation, closing your eyes for a brief moment. you can hear dongmin rustling around, taking off his vest and placing the pizza on your bedside table.
you smile at the way he knows you don't like silence and is filling it in small ways.
you open your eyes. dongmin sits closer than before, leaning over you with the concern you always see on his face. he's been looking like this more often these days, ever since you were hospitalized, and you hate seeing him like this. he used to always smile around you. you miss it.
"i.. i don't know. it's just— it feels bad. i feel bad. somehow more terrible than yesterday and it just keeps getting worse. i don't know how to stop it. i don't know what to do with it, dongmin."
"the nurses say that i just need food and sunlight, or whatever. real sunlight. i need to get out of this bed and this ward and this hospital. i tell them i don't want to. i can't. i don't know how to explain it, but i just can't."
you sigh. there's really no way you can explain it. how can you explain that your sickness feels more like it's stuck inside of you—deep, deep inside you—rather than it being a physical ailment? that the reason you're here is just a physical manifestation of the turmoil that's been boiling and burning underneath your skin? how can you tell him when you yourself don't understand what's going on with you?
a hand lands on your cheek. warmth spreads from dongmin's fingertips to your clammy skin; you find yourself leaning into it like you're desperate for it. he holds you tighter.
"i'm sorry. for being a bum."
"you're not a bum. well, maybe you are, sometimes, but you're my bum. that's okay."
dongmin gives you that smile—the one that crinkles his eyes and shows all his teeth. he looks like a kid. he looks like the kid who used to push you on the swings and gave you three out of five of his snacks. the smile you love the most.
now you're smiling too. small, but there.
"okay, bum. if you're not going to eat the pizza i bought you, would you at least accompany your best friend on a ride to soothe his hurt feelings?"
"do you really want me to eat the pizza?" you huff fondly.
"no, i want you to go on a ride with me. please?"
you don't really feel like going anywhere, wanting to just sink deeper into your pillows and drift off, but dongmin pulls out his ultimate trump card—innocent, pleading puppy eyes and a soft pout—that he knows you're weak against and you instantly cave in. damn him.
dongmin's spare helmet is two sizes too big for your head. even when you've fastened it as tightly as you can underneath your chin, it slips with every bump on the road, rendering it somewhat useless as a safety tool. so, instead of trying helplessly to keep it on, you opt for wrapping your arms tightly around dongmin's waist, lest you fall off from how fast he's driving.
"your helmet is too big," you yell in his ear over the roar of the wind.
"your head is too small," he chucks back. even if he's not looking at you, you can already picture the shit-eating grin he has plastered across his face.
"you're driving too fast."
"fast is good. helps clear your mind. does your mind feel clearer?"
"it's screaming at you to slow down."
dongmin laughs, the sound loud and sweet. for your sake, he slows down a little.
looking around, the city glows in bright, blurry technicolor. you don't really know where you are anymore; you lost track after the fifth turn dongmin took a while back. the warm orange of passing streetlights bleed into neon red, blue, and green signs; the occasional car rushing by washing you in red. there's undoubtedly more to see than your plain old walls back at the hospital, and, after being cooped up in there for days, it's all a bit too much to take in.
there it is again. dongmin, somehow, just knows instantly when something's wrong.
"i'm okay. the lights are a little overwhelming, is all."
dongmin takes a turn at a stoplight. the road starts to incline, and you assume you're entering one of the quieter neighborhoods some ways away from the city. you drive up, up, up, the bright chaos of lights dulling down to the dim glow of porch lights in front of houses and the stars in the sky.
when you've reached what seems to be the top, dongmin stops. he parks his motorcycle, taps you on the leg to get off, and pulls off his helmet. his hair clings to his forehead, sweat dripping down his neck, but the smile he gives you is blinding. "that was fun."
you smile back. "sure was."
you reach up with your sleeve, tapping at his neck to dry his sweat off. he catches your wrist before you can pull away when you finish and pulls you along with him.
you're still somewhere in the city, but your surroundings are unfamiliar to you. dongmin looks at ease, though, so you assume he's been here before.
the cliff you're standing on is high enough that the buildings below look more like miniature glow-sticks, shining even in the dead of night. the hustle and bustle of cars and people, while far-away, can still be heard from way up where you are. the city never sleeps.
dongmin leans against the railing, breathes out a sigh. "it's nice up here."
"quiet. away from everything else."
you look at him. really look. the wind tousles his hair in a way that still makes him look perfect. his face is peaceful, content. not a trace of the worry he looked at you with back in the hospital. this is the dongmin that you’re used to; that you love.
he catches you staring and stares right back. "what's on your mind, sweetheart?"
sweetheart. honey. your best friend's always had a knack for nicknames. you've never admitted how warm it makes you feel inside.
"nothing much. you look... comfortable. do you come up here often?"
dongmin makes a face at you. "first of all, that's a lie. you always have something on your mind, i know it. and b: yes, i do come up here a lot. usually after late shifts, when i need to take a breather, or when woonhak is still up at three am yelling unoriginal insults at nobodies in his games. annoying little shit."
you snicker softly at the thought. dongmin's younger roommate, woonhak, is always a popular character in his stories. while you've only met him a handful of times in person, it feels like you know him as well as your best friend at this point. he seems like an interesting guy. chaotic, but interesting.
"you know, i'd offer to be your roommate, but we're already neighbors so... it wouldn't make that much of a difference, would it? you'd still be able to hear woonhak through the paper-thin walls."
"hm, i don't care. let me move in with you. woonhak can have the place all to himself if he keeps screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night. plus, you're cleaner than he is."
you laugh louder this time.
it's so easy for dongmin. so easy for him to make you laugh, unabashedly, with all the things he says. for him to come to you late at night even if he's already tired from working all day. for him to look at you and just understand you; to feel what you feel. it kind of frustrates you—it's so easy for him to do anything for you.
you don't understand why he keeps up with it. surely, you don't deserve his kindness. even if you tried, you can't compare to him. you can't give him back the same effort that he gives you, let alone tenfold of it. he deserves it—he deserves to be loved, cared for, in ways you can't try to.
he's never asked for anything in return.
he hums, turning to look at you. even in the darkness you can see the bags under his eyes. the tiredness etched into the lines of his face; the way his shoulders droop from the exhaustion of a long work day.
but he's watching you like he doesn't want to be anywhere else.
"thank you for coming tonight. i needed..." you hesitate for a breath, "... i needed you."
"because i don't deserve it."
dongmin huffs, and suddenly he's standing in front of you. he plants his hands against the railing you're leaning on, trapping you between his arms. there's a crease between his brows as he frowns, one you want to smooth out because the expression doesn't suit him.
"y/n. don't say that. don't be sorry. you should never be, not to me."
"i do this because i want to. because i care about you. i come to you because you're my best friend and i like being with you. even if you deserve it or not, i want to."
"and right now, you're sick, and i want to more than ever. i want you to be better, so i do everything i can to help you. so don't feel sorry. it's not your fault."
you don't say anything back. you can't, not with your heart stuck in your throat and tears threatening to spill past your lashes. dongmin talks as if he's explaining a simple truth; a fact universally accepted that it's difficult to not believe it. it's hard for you still. to truly understand how much space you take up in his heart. how he freely lets you stay there.
you look down at your feet, avoiding his gaze for fear that the longer you look at him, the more you'll cry. he's seen you cry before, of course, but it never gets less embarrassing.
"hey, sweetheart. look at me."
big palms come to cup your tear-stained cheeks, thumbs caressing with a gentleness that makes you melt. you can't help it, not when he's being tender like this.
you fall into dongmin's arms, winding your own tightly around his waist and burying your face into his hoodie. his scent is everything familiar—the dollar store laundry detergent he always buys, the cologne he's been using since high school, and something so unabashedly him. warm. safe.
he hugs you close, enveloping you completely. "i've got you, y/n. i always have. i always will."
he seals his promise with a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.
you're folding your blanket neatly at the edge of your bed when the nurse walks in.
"you've packed up everything, dear?" she asks you. you look up at her, returning her warm smile with a grateful one. "mhm. just fixing up the sheets and stuff."
she tuts. "oh, don't you worry about that. we'll take care of it." she flips through a clipboard nestled in the crook of her arm. "well, we've run the last couple of tests on you and your results are all normal. you're good to go, dear."
"thank you for taking care of me. i know i haven't been... the most obedient patient..."
the nurse chuckles goodheartedly. "that you weren't. but i'm glad you're better now. we all are."
you place the blanket on top of your pillows, now straightened and spotless, and take one last, long look at the hospital bed you resided in for the past week and a half. the shabby but almost cozy corner of the ward that became both your enemy and your friend. the walls you bore imaginary holes into and the ceiling fan that lulled you to sleep almost every night. now that it's all familiar, it's time to leave.
once you've collected all your belongings and sorted out things at the front desk, you make your way outside of the hospital.
the early afternoon sun burns bright, heat instantly seeping through your skin and warming you all over. but you're not too opposed to it. it's more than welcome, in fact. you've missed it.
"hey, bum." you've barely turned towards the voice before someone suspiciously shaped like your best friend comes barreling into you, almost knocking you over.
"ow— han dongmin! you're so heavy!"
"okay, ouch. i haven't seen you in forever and that's how you greet me?"
"more like three days, but, whatever."
dongmin pouts like a child and you laugh in his face.
"how are you feeling?" he brings a hand to your face, palm cool against your heated cheek. you lean into his hand, turning slightly to press your lips to his fingers. "better."
"because of me?" he grins impishly; your heart skips a beat.
"it has nothing to do with you, bum." except it kind of does.
dongmin knows because of course he does. he's great like that. his smile melts into something soft and fond. his hand snakes down your neck, your arm, reaching your hand and fingers curling into yours tightly like he never wants to let go.
"sure, honey. whatever you say."
a/n: wow this one is looong! i honestly didn't expect it to get this long bc i was just writing purely based off of vibes, but i had fun! <33 hope i get to write more like this soon ^__^
© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
