Chicken Noodle Magic

Part 1

Part 2

‘You’re not working the day of the Christmas party are you?’ asked Mel, her fingers rapidly tapping at the keyboard as she typed up her notes.

‘Nope,’ I replied frowning at my screen as my request for an EEG was bounced back.

Mel chuckled. ‘Tae is down. He is surprisingly keen to go, actually.’

‘That’s because he knows you’ll get drunk and he’ll get lucky,’ I replied drily.

Mel snorted. ‘I don’t need to be drunk for him to get lucky.’

‘Also, Tae looks like a proper party animal,’ I noted. ‘I mean, he barely even looks serious at work.’

‘Just as well his patients are mostly unconscious,’ Mel agrees. ‘Did you know he knows Namjoon?’

I looked over at her, clicking send on my EEG request. ‘Does he?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Family friends, he said. Apparently, they grew up together.’

‘Interesting,’ I said, intrigued.

Namjoon and I had been seeing each other on and off over the last few months, trying to coordinate time between our full-time schedules. He was trying to get the bulk of a project done before Christmas, which was a few weeks away, and I had been organising a training day which was taking up a lot of my time and exposing my lack of organisational skills.

I was planning to see him tonight, though, and couldn’t wait. We hadn’t seen each other properly in two weeks.

************************************************************************

I pulled up outside Namjoon’s flat, parking in the guest slot. His car was already there. I walked up to the door and Namjoon greeted me, barefoot with hair damp from his shower, fresh white t-shirt sticking slightly to his torso and his grey sweatpants on. How did he always manage to look so delicious? I fumbled with my bag, feeling strangely shy. His gaze on me made my cheeks feel warm. I smelled his apple shampoo as he leaned forward to kiss me. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said softly, tugging me into his doorway.

‘You smell good,’ I blurted.

He looked me up and down. ‘Did you just get off work?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I was worried I’d be late, so I just got changed and came straight over. Time is precious you know,’ I said lightly.

‘Gotta get that D?’ he smirked.

I rolled my eyes. ‘I thought you were a grown-ass man, but you really are a fuckboy.’

Namjoon looked at me, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. ‘I think we need to wash up,’ he said, a wicked gleam in his eye.

‘You’ve just had a shower,’ I pointed out, crossing my arms self-consciously.

‘True,’ he conceded. ‘But there’s plenty of hot water, and I think I like the idea of getting you wet.’

Namjoon led me to the bathroom, helping me pull my top over my head. He shamelessly ogled my breasts in my pink lace bra, smirking as I flushed.

‘You’re so pretty,’ he said, eyes dark as he reached out to cup a breast, thumb brushing over my nipple. I bit my lip, sliding my hands under his t-shirt. His warm skin felt slightly damp under my hands.

He tilted his head down. I sighed as his mouth slanted over mine, a familiar slow burn pooling low down in my groin. ‘Joon,’ I murmured, pulling him closer.

He breathed out against my lips. ‘Christ, you get me hard as a rock when you say my name like that.’ As if to demonstrate, his hips rolled against my stomach, pressing his erection against me.

I cooed delightedly, reaching out to touch, but he pinned my hands by my sides.

‘No,’ he said sternly. ‘I promised I’d get you wet and that’s what I’m going to do.’ He pulled me into his walk-in shower.

‘Fuck, Namjoon,’ I gasped, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life as he knelt in front of me, head nudging between my thighs.

‘Mmm?’ he hummed against my clit, looking up at me. His hair was slicked back from the shower, his big hands steadying my hips as I trembled beneath him. He lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder, angling his neck to lick up into my entrance. I shuddered as he pushed a finger inside me, stroking whilst he lapped at my clit.

‘That feels amazing,’ I murmured, fingers carded in his hair.

‘You taste amazing,’ he countered. ‘I could eat you out all night.’

One orgasm later I found myself riding him against the headboard of his bed. ‘Fuck,’ he hissed. ‘I don’t think I’m going to last.’ His hands squeezed my ass, helping me up bounce up and down on his dick. I cried out as he leant forward to suck at my nipple, nipping it gently.

‘Joon,’ I stuttered out, and I could feel rather than see him smile against my tit. His dark eyes looked up at me intently, watching me arch back in pleasure as he thrust up into me.

‘I want to ruin you,’ he said, eyes deadly serious, his husky voice making me involuntarily clench around his cock. Without any warning he pulled out, lifting me off him and leaving me kneeling on his bed.

‘You have such a great ass,’ he said. I looked over my shoulder at him as he lined himself up with my cunt. ‘I wish you could see this, you take my cock like you were made for it,’ he groaned out.

I closed my eyes, the change in angle made him feel even deeper. ‘Joon, I can’t cum again,’ I warned, pleasure building in me as he thrust, long and slow.

He laughed then, hands reaching round to cup my breasts, pulling me up against his chest. ‘Is that a challenge, Y/N?’

‘No,’ I cried, ‘I mean you’re too fucking much.’

‘You can take me, baby, I know you can,’ he crooned, plucking at my nipples, grinding his pelvis against my ass. One hand reached down, long fingers stroking over my clit as he flexed within me. His lips grazed my ear, warm breath against my neck. He kissed my neck and suddenly he bit down, hard.

I groaned as I came around his cock. ‘Shit, I can feel you clenching,’ Namjoon cried out, lost, and then he was cumming inside me. We collapsed down on his bed in a tangle of limbs.

When my breathing finally slowed enough for me to speak, I turned to him. ‘You’re a monster, Namjoon.’

He just laughed, patting my ass. ‘I think we need another shower.’

************************************************************************

I did a slow turn in front of the mirror, uncertainly. The black velvet dress I had on was high-necked and long-sleeved but form-fitting and with a skirt that barely reached mid-thigh. I was unaccustomed to showing this much skin, but I had wanted to wear something that would make Namjoon do a double take when he saw me.

‘You look amazing,’ said Mel, patting me on the shoulders.

‘Yeah, if pale chunky thighs are in now,’ I muttered.

‘Don’t be stupid, your legs are ridiculous and if anyone here is pale it’s me,’ Mel said. I paused to give her a hug.

Mel slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘Ready?’

The Christmas party was in full swing, in a converted barn on the edge of town. The rustic decorations and soft jazz playing complemented the huge 20-foot Christmas tree set out in the middle of the barn.

‘Wow, someone really blew the budget this year,’ I commented, clinking glasses with Mel.

Mel laughed, ‘Don’t worry, I think the actual DJ arrives after the meal, and I’m pretty sure he'll bring the cheese. We’ll be dancing on tables in no time.’

I sighed. ‘What’s Christmas without 90s pop that wasn’t even popular the first time round?’ I joked.

‘Call them cult classics,’ said Mel.

I looked around for Namjoon. We hadn’t been allocated to the same table but he had seemed enthused about coming.

‘Fuck,’ Mel murmured, nudging me.

I followed her line of vision, my eyes coming to rest on Namjoon and Taehyung.

‘Fuck,’ I echoed, nearly dropping my glass.

The two men were a sight to behold. Namjoon looked impossibly gorgeous in his dark fitted suit, his shoulders broad, his thighs straining against the cut of his trousers. He had ditched his glasses for the night, and his (newly-blond) hair had been styled perfectly, a lock falling across his forehead. Silvery earrings glinted in his ears. He spotted me and his dimpled smile made my stomach flutter.

Beside him, Tae looked equally stunning. He had a fitted jacket of a brocade material with gold embroidery which might have been too much on some but suited his sometimes-flamboyant style. His hair was artfully tousled across his forehead and his eyes were dark as he scanned the room for Mel. I could see heads turning as the two men made their way across the room towards us.

I greeted Namjoon with a shy smile. ‘You look beautiful,’ I told him.

He leaned down, his lips so close they nearly brushed my ear. ‘You look good enough to eat,’ he replied. I turned to him, and the dark gleam in his eyes sent a pulse of arousal between my legs.

‘Should I be afraid?’ I asked, trying to sound casual.

Namjoon smiled, lazy and devastating. ‘I’ll take care of you, baby,’ he said, and the memory of the last time he had used those words and the context in which he had said them made my core clench.

Tae leaned over to kiss my cheek in greeting. ‘Y/N,’ he said, his deep baritone rumbling in my ear.

‘Hi Tae, are you well?’ I replied.

‘Better now,’ he said, smiling at Mel, who beamed back.

‘Gosh you guys are cheesy,’ Namjoon complained.

Tae just smiled. ‘Not all of us have the sexy geek thing going for us,’ he said.

‘Are you talking about me or Namjoon?’ I asked, pretending to be offended.

‘Actually, that works for both of them,’ Mel teased, ‘Have you seen Y/N doing a shunt calculation?’ She pretended to fan herself. ‘Soo hot.’

I laughed, swatting her on the arm. ‘You’re ridiculous.’

Namjoon looked at me in amusement. ‘You always were hot on the outside and geeky on the inside. It’s the perfect combo.’

‘I’m just hot on the outside and hot on the inside,’ said Tae, pulling Mel into a hug. ‘Come on, let’s get a drink.’

As they walk away, Namjoon turned to me. ‘You’re hot on the inside too,’ he said, looking at me meaningfully. ‘Or warm, very warm.’

My eyes fly to his lips as he pokes the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.

‘Are you coming on to me right now, Namjoon?’ I teased.

‘Fuck yeah,’ he breathed. ‘All I can think about is how good your legs would look wrapped around me. And how that skirt is so short, that if you bent over, I wouldn’t even have to move it out the way to get into you.’

I clenched again, pressing my thighs together, a move that doesn’t escape Namjoon’s attention.

‘Joon,’ I breathed, pressing my hand flat against his broad chest.

He hissed at the sound of my voice. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘What?’ I asked, in mock innocence. ‘Say Joon, I want to feel your big cock in me right now? Tell you about how you’ve just made me so wet for you, you could just slide right in?’

There was a long pause as Namjoon looked at me thoughtfully, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far.

When he spoke, his voice was strained. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this party without fucking you.’

‘You will, you’re a big boy,’ I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

He smiled wolfishly at me then. ‘I’m going to ruin you,’ he promised. ‘But for now we need to talk about something else because this giant boner is starting to get uncomfortable’.

And just like that, we were both laughing. ‘Joonie, let me get you a drink,’ I offered. Instead, he reached for my glass and tossed back the contents in one long swallow. I watched his throat working, trying to curb my lustful thoughts.

‘Stop doing that,’ he murmured, placing the glass on a nearby table.

‘Doing what, Joon?’ I asked, as innocently as I could.

‘Naughty girls get punished,’ is all he said.

************************************************************************

Namjoon

Namjoon scanned the room for Y/N. He caught sight of her standing slightly awkwardly against a wall talking to Dr Chan. Something about her usually graceful posture looked uncomfortable and he realised she was hunching over, arms crossed over the front of her dress, using her purse to cover her thighs as they talked. He saw Dr Chan’s expression and the way his eyes were roaming her body and it made his jaw clench in annoyance. Not only was Dr Chan a total prick, he was apparently also a sex pest.

Before he realised he was moving he was standing beside Y/N.

‘Hey,’ he said. She looked up at him and the relief in her eyes made him want to punch the older man in the face.

‘Namjoon,’ she said.

‘Y/N. I’ve saved some dessert for you,’ he said, smiling reassuringly at her. He took her arm and nodded to the older man.

‘She may have to put up with you at work, but we aren’t at work now,’ he said mildly, giving Dr Chan a hard look as he led Y/N to his table.

He could feel her trembling as he put his hand in the small of her back to lead her away.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

‘I’m ok, Joon,’ she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder for an instant.

He tipped her chin up so her eyes met his. ‘What a prick,’ he said, trying to make her smile.

Her lips curved slightly. ‘I know, right?’ she agreed. ‘I just hope he doesn’t hold it against me at work.’

Namjoon shrugged. ‘I’ve seen you work, baby. It’s pretty clear to me that you’re excellent. He hasn’t got a leg to stand on.’

Her eyes met his searchingly. ‘Thanks,’ she said, lips curving into a real smile this time. ‘Now did you say you had dessert.’

Namjoon pushed his plate towards her. ‘I’ll have dessert back at mine,’ he said, meaningfully, endeared when she flushed and dropped her gaze.

************************************************************************

‘Joon!’ I cried out as his big hand landed on my ass with a hard ‘thwack’.

He paused, presumably admiring the latest red handprint he had just caused to bloom on my ass cheek.

‘Yes, baby?’ he asked. ‘I told you naughty girls get punished.’

I wasn’t sure what had got into him, but this was a side of Namjoon I was strangely thrilled by. He had demanded I strip in front of him, leaving my black lace panties and bra on, then promptly pulled me over his lap to spank me. And rather than being appalled by his behaviour, it seemed to multiply my arousal ten-fold.

‘Please,’ I said, ‘please fuck me now.’

He grunted, his dark eyes on mine. ‘I don’t think I’ve punished you enough yet.’

‘Please, Joon,’ I begged breathlessly. ‘I need you.’

He smiled, and I gasped as his fingers came to rest between my legs.

‘Are you wet for me?’ he asked, pulling the crotch of my underwear to one side, his fingers exploring me.

‘You can feel that I am,’ I bit out, helplessly turned on by his long fingers and how devilish he looked, fully dressed with his earrings flashing in the low lamplight of his bedroom. He hadn’t even bothered rolling up his sleeves, and the cold metal of his rings felt like a balm against my sore ass.

‘Can I taste you?’ I asked desperately. He almost seemed to be considering it, the palm of one hand resting against what looked like a deliciously hard erection. I nearly cried with relief as he stood up, removing his jacket and revealing his dress shirt.

‘Naughty girls don’t get my cock until I’m good and ready,’ he said finally. ‘Now take your panties off.’

I complied immediately, kneeling on the bed in front of him. He put the warm palm of one hand between my breasts, pushing me back so I lay flat on the bed. He settled leaned forward, pressing his warm mouth to my thigh, laying a trail of open-mouthed kisses straight to my cunt.

‘Love this,’ he murmured, licking between my folds. I felt like screaming as his tongue explored, slow and leisurely, his nose bumping against my clit.

‘Joon,’ I breathed. ‘Joon please.’

‘Don’t worry baby, I did say I’d take care of you.’ He lapped at my folds, worrying my clit between his teeth, and I nearly came off the bed. We had had sex so many times by then he knew exactly how to make me cum, pulling orgasms out of me effortlessly.

‘Joon,’ I cried as I came all over his face.

‘Mmmm,’ he moaned, ‘you taste so amazing.’

I tugged at his shoulders, trying to get him to come up. He kissed me, his tongue and chin covered in my cum, letting me taste myself on him.

‘Joonie,’ I whispered, tongue swirling in his mouth. ‘Can you fuck me now?’

Namjoon smiled, dimples appearing, and immediately he looked a different man from the one who had spanked me not minutes before.

‘Yes,’ he replied fervently. ‘Yes.’

************************************************************************

Namjoon stretched his arms over his head then took a sip of his coffee. It was early January, and over the holidays we had had a few shared days off, mostly spent at his flat, fucking, watching films, drinking.

I loved this version of Namjoon even more than the gorgeous coiffed persona he wore as the cardiothoracics fellow. Perhaps it was our shared history of medical school and the summer before we started working, but I felt I identified the most with this Namjoon, the boy sloping around in oversize t-shirts, waxing poetic about his favourite authors and nerding out over old medical textbooks.

‘What should we do today?’ he asked, wiping crumbs from his croissant off his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘We could drive down to the beach,’ I suggested. ‘It’s so cold there won’t be anyone there.’

Just then his phone rang. He smiled as he saw who it was. My mum, he mouthed at me, greeting her in Korean. I scrolled through my phone idly as they talked.

‘Does she call you often?’ I asked as he hung up.

‘Yes, every week or so. She can’t wait for me to come home,’ he laughed. ‘It’s not even as though we live anywhere close to each other, she just wants me back in the country. I think she’s trying to set me up with one of her friend’s daughters.’

I froze, a sequence of thoughts flashing through my head so quickly I felt my head spin. Luckily for once my mouth was quicker than my head. ‘Oh, of course she is,’ I said, smiling. ‘You’re a total catch.’ I excused myself to go to the bathroom quickly, where I stared, stricken, at my own face in the mirror.

Of course Namjoon was going back to Seoul when his year was up. How had I not thought of this already? Whatever we were doing was temporary, Namjoon had never said anything about his future plans and to be fair I had never asked. There was a knock on the door. ‘Hey, are you ok?’ Namjoon asked.

So much for my attempt at acting casual, I thought.

‘Yeah, stop stalking me, you perv, I literally just left you,’ I called through the door, turning the water on and splashing some on my flushed cheeks.

Namjoon

Namjoon leaned against the door. He could have bitten his tongue the instant he had said what he said. The expression on Y/N’s face had made his heart squeeze in his chest. She had looked so vulnerable, bare-faced, her hair up in a messy bun, sitting across from him in one of his old t-shirts, that he had instantly wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her.

The door opened and she looked up at him, unsurprised to see him just outside.

‘Did you miss me that much?’ she teased. It almost fooled him, would have fooled him if he hadn’t seen what he had seen. Her smile was perfect, but the slightly uncertain look in her eyes gave her away.

‘Y/N,’ he said, and her gaze dropped.

‘So, beach?’ she asked, reaching for his hand.

Namjoon clasped her hand in his own, deciding not to pursue it. ‘Yeah. Got your bikini?’ he asked, smiling.

Instead of rightly reminding him it was January and freezing outside, she smirked, and for a moment the sparkle was in her eyes again.

‘I prefer skinny dipping,’ she purred, letting her hand brush across his cock as she walked past him to finish her coffee.

************************************************************************

It had been a few weeks since I had seen Namjoon, easily explained away by how busy it was at work due to the influx of patients with winter illnesses. I was on hold waiting to speak to cardiology when my phone buzzed in my scrubs pocket.

Namjoon: Coffee?

Y/N: Sorry – getting slammed.

Namjoon: Catch you this afternoon. I’m on call.

I didn’t reply. Truth be told, I hadn’t had time to process the realisation that Namjoon was leaving in a few short months. He had been such a big part of my life for the last few months I knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye. Possibly harder than it had been in medical school.

He knew me so well despite all our years apart, and meeting him again had just brought to the forefront the companionship I had been missing due to the nomadic nature of our jobs.

I was rustling through the chest drain trolley when I heard a voice behind me.

‘Your ass looks amazing in scrubs,’ Namjoon said, smiling at me cheekily.

I laughed. ‘Get your own original lines, fuckboy.’

He cocked his head toward the double doors to the unit. ‘There’s a flat white with your name on it in the staffroom. Join me?’

I couldn’t help but smile. ‘You’re an angel Namjoon. I can only spare 5 minutes though.’

I sipped my coffee, sighing in pleasure. ‘You're the best, Joonie.’

Namjoon sprawled on the sofa next to me, manspreading. We were the only two people in the staffroom.

‘I know I am,’ he drawled. ‘You tell me all the time in bed too.’

‘It’s a wonder you can fit through the door with a head that big,’ I snorted, nearly choking on my coffee.

He reached out and patted my back gently.

‘That brings back memories of you choking on something else,’ he said softly.

I giggled despite myself. ‘You're a filthy animal,’ I replied.

‘I’m your filthy animal,’ he said, ‘as long as you’ll have me.’

‘Oh my god, Namjoon, give it a rest with the innuendo,’ I moaned, ‘I’m trying to finish my coffee here!’

‘How can I,’ Namjoon protested, ‘you look so damn cute when you’re blushing and pretending you’re shy.’

‘Not all of us can be as cocky as you,’ I replied. God, I’d missed him.

‘Come to mine tonight?’ he asked.

I paused. He fell silent beside me and when I looked over he looked strangely vulnerable.

‘Sure,’ I said, and for a second the expression on his face looked like… relief? ‘Shall I bring pizza?’

Namjoon shook his head. ‘I’ll cook for us.’

I widened my eyes in mock horror and he threw a cushion straight at my face. Unfortunately, my coffee was in the way and the next thing I knew lukewarm coffee was spreading down my scrubs top.

Namjoon was on his feet immediately, pulling me out of the staffroom.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked worriedly. ‘Was it hot?’

I realised he had led us to the nearest staff bathroom.

‘Wait here, I’ll get you another top,’ he said, sprinting off. He was back in minutes, helping me lift my top over my head.

‘I think I can do this myself,’ I said, jokingly. Namjoon’s gaze fell to my lips, then my breasts in my plain black bra.

‘Y/N,’ he breathed out, and the urgency in his voice made my thighs press against each other. In seconds he was pressing me against the sink, unknotting the pull tie of his scrubs, letting them fall to the floor.

‘God, your thighs,’ I marvelled, and his smile was cocky as he pushed down his black briefs, palming his already hard cock. He lined himself up with my entrance and then he was in me, thrusting hard and deep.

‘Fuck, Namjoon,’ I gasped, clinging on to his shoulders. ‘Fuck.’

He said nothing, teeth sinking into his lip as he pushed his big cock deep. I moaned at the delicious stretch.

‘Quiet baby,’ he whispered, tongue swirling in my ear as his hips ground against mine. ‘We don’t want everyone to find out I’m fucking you in the bathroom, do we?’

At that point I was incapable of replying, my mind swirling with sensation as he kissed down my neck.

‘How are you so fucking wet, dirty girl?’ he whispered, his voice velvety and smooth as he licked a stripe up my neck. ‘Always so ready to cum for me.’ His hands were everywhere, it seemed, and it had been so long it felt like I was on the verge of cumming as soon as he pushed into me.

‘Joon,’ I sighed in his ear, ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

He jerked at that, pushing into me with a particularly hard thrust. I shoved a knuckle into my mouth to stifle my wail as I came all over him.

Namjoon circled his hips, thrusting hard, panting my name against my neck as he came.

‘Joon,’ I hissed at the oversensitivity as he pulled out of me.

‘I’m sorry love, was I too rough?’ he asked, face worried as I bit my lip at the soreness I felt.

I smiled up at him. ‘Best kind of rough,’ I said, reaching up and pressing my thumb into his cheek, where his dimple was.

Namjoon smiled back, pressing a kiss to my lips. ‘You’re fucking perfect, baby. Please can you come over and let me cook for you later?’

I pulled the new scrubs top over my head. ‘As long as we have dessert,’ I said, flicking my eyes up to his.

He chuckled. ‘You’re going to kill me,’ he said, mock groaning.

************************************************************************

I cuddled against Namjoon’s chest, looking out the window. He stroked my hair. ‘You awake still?’ he asked huskily.

‘Where would you live if you could live anywhere?’ I asked, looking up at him.

Namjoon hesitated a second, then sighed. ‘I’d live with the people I love. It doesn’t matter where.’

His reply, so simple and yet profound, struck a chord in me. I kissed his chest, running my hand down his torso. ‘That’s a non-fuckboy thing to say,’ I said sleepily.

Namjoon’s hand was warm against my cheek.

‘What about I love you?’ he asked, so softly I wasn’t sure if I’d heard it, and so I didn’t reply.

************************************************************************

I exchanged a glance with Mary, the nurse in charge of the night shift as we stood beside the cot. ‘I don’t like it,’ she said, ‘he doesn’t look right.’

‘I agree Mary,’ I said, ‘he’s not right. But I’ve got nothing to fix. His numbers are perfect, his lactate is low. I have no idea why he looks so ill.’

Mary frowned. ‘What’s just come out of his drains?’ she asked, gesturing, and as if on cue, blood began pouring from all three of the chest drains.

‘Fuck,’ I said, feeling my heart rate accelerate at the sight. ‘He’s bleeding out.’

Namjoon

Namjoon’s phone rang and he looked up from the audit he was trying to collect data for. He answered immediately. ‘Cardiothoracics.’

‘Namjoon.’ It was Y/N, her voice wavering over the line. ‘You need to get down to ICU. The baby from earlier, the Fallot’s, he’s bleeding out.’

Namjoon was on his feet immediately. ‘Should I call Francesco in?’ he asked.

She paused. ‘I would, he’s going to need an exploration.’

‘Who’s your consultant?’ Namjoon asked, heading for the door, ‘are they in yet?’

She paused again. ‘It’s Chan. We can’t reach him.’

Namjoon started walking down the corridor towards the ICU. ‘You know what Francesco will say, Y/N, the first thing he’s going to ask me is if Chan is in.’

‘I know that,’ Y/N replied, voice pleading. ‘But we can’t reach him, Joon, and this baby is going to die if we don’t crack his chest.’

‘OK, OK,’ Namjoon ran a hand over his face. ‘I’m calling him in, and I’m on my way. Hang tight.’

The first thing Namjoon saw when he ran onto the unit was Y/N, gloves on, pushing blood in via a syringe. The relief on her face when she saw him made his heart thud wildly in his chest.

‘Update me,’ he said, running the water at the nearest sink and starting to scrub.

‘He’s been pouring out blood for the last 30 minutes, Joon, all three drains. We’ve given a round of products, calcium and TXA. We’re waiting on cryo. His blood pressure is in his boots. He’s got a bleed somewhere, I would strongly recommend that we open his chest and explore,’ Y/N called out from beside the patient.

‘Sounds like we need to,’ Namjoon looked round to see Francesco, hair mussed, pulling on his scrubs hat.

‘The scrubs team are ready, we have drugs and blood, so we are good to go when you are scrubbed,’ said Y/N.

Namjoon nodded as he finished scrubbing up and held out his arms for a gown.

‘Turn up the suction please,’ Francesco said tensely once he had opened the chest. ‘I can’t see a damn thing.’ He placed a swab in the centre of the chest which came back soaked in blood.

‘It’s an atrial tear,’ Namjoon murmured, spotting the source of bleeding.

‘Good spot,’ grunted Francesco. ‘Let’s sort it.’

They were interrupted by loud swearing. ‘What the absolute FUCK is happening?’ They both looked up to see Dr Chan storming onto the unit, gesticulating wildly. He focused in on Y/N. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you call me?’

Y/N lifted her chin. ‘We did, Dr Chan, we called at least a dozen times, we tried your home number and your mobile and they all rang out.’

Dr Chan spluttered, ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘She’s right,’ Mary said firmly. ‘We all tried to reach you before we started, but we had to go ahead.’

‘You’re a bunch of fucking idiots,’ Dr Chan said tersely, his gaze directed at Y/N.

Namjoon looked up to meet Francesco’s eyes. ‘Dr Chan,’ Francesco said serenely. ‘Can you please just shut the fuck up for one second so I can repair this atrial tear?’

To his credit, Dr Chan’s mouth clapped shut. ‘I’ll need a word with you after this,’ he sneered, looking at Y/N. She looked down, and the way her hand trembled as she turned the tap on the rescue line she was clutching made Namjoon’s heart squeeze.

Y/N

I collapsed down on my chair as soon as the patient was undraped, my heartrate accelerating at the idea of being the focal point of one of Dr Chan’s rants. I ran a hand over my face, sighing as I typed in my login to the computer to start my documentation. Sure enough, a shadow fell over me.

‘Y/N, a word,’ snapped Dr Chan.

‘Sure,’ I said, hoping my face mask hid my grimace.

A quiet voice made me turn as I got up. ‘Actually, if we are discussing the patient, I’d like to listen in and participate if I may,’ said Namjoon. Although he wasn’t touching me, his warm voice made me straighten my back and shoulders as I squared myself off to speak to Dr Chan.

‘I would too, actually.’ I looked round in surprise to see Francesco, scrubs hat askew. The kindness in his eyes almost made my own fill with grateful tears as he nodded at me. Dr Chan looked at us, and I could almost feel the sharp edge of his anger blunted against the show of solidarity we displayed.

‘I don’t want to be left out of this,’ said Mary, patting my shoulder.

I could have cried. Instead, I told Dr Chan exactly what had happened, with contributions from Mary and Namjoon, and for the first time, I didn’t feel like I had been through the wringer after a confrontation with him.

Namjoon paused by my desk before he left the unit. ‘I’ll drive you to mine tomorrow morning after you get off,’ he said. I looked at his beautiful face and felt a wave of warmth spread through me. ‘Sure,’ I said.

‘Hey Namjoon,’ I called as he turned to leave, and he turned back to face me. ‘Thanks for saving my ass.’

Namjoon shrugged. ‘You saved your own ass. And that baby too. It was the only call to make.’

‘Still though, thank you,’ I said, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze.

His palm felt warm against mine. ‘It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me,’ he said quietly. And he was right.

************************************************************************

After my near confrontation with Dr Chan, he seemed to be less quick with the name-calling. He was as vile as ever, but he refrained from calling anyone a fucking idiot, at least in my presence. It was a slim win, but I sensed it was all he was capable of.

Namjoon and I saw each other nearly every day, mostly at his flat. We had stopped for a coffee on our way into work one day when I felt his hand slide down my back, squeezing my ass.

I swatted his hand away. ‘God, Namjoon! We’re at work.’

Namjoon just chuckled. ‘Remember when I last got you a coffee?’ I flushed, remembering our bathroom encounter.

‘Ah,’ said Namjoon, eyes fixed on my face. ‘I see you do.’

A voice from behind us made me jump. ‘Y/N, Namjoon, do I need to speak to you about appropriate workplace behaviour?’

I whirled around to see Dr Black. ‘Ah, Dr Black. It’s not me you need to speak to. I’m merely a victim of this heinous behaviour.’

Namjoon spluttered. ‘Wh – what? There were way more risqué things happening at the Christmas party.’

Dr Black laughed wickedly. ‘There definitely was debauchery at the Christmas party.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘You were definitely involved in most of it.’

Namjoon sighed. ‘I’m going to catch up with Francesco.’

‘Namjoon,’ called Dr Black as he was walking away. ‘Take care of our Y/N.’

I scoffed. ‘Please. I’m more likely to die on PICU than from anything Namjoon does.’

Namjoon threw his hands up. ‘I’d rather eat in the staff canteen than do anything that might hurt Y/N.’

‘Aww,’ I cooed. ‘I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

************************************************************************

I stroked Namjoon’s hair as he rested his head in my lap. The flickering light from the TV gave his skin a silvery gleam. He yawned.

‘Tired?’ I murmured to him, lacing my fingers through his.

‘Let’s go to bed, baby.’

I held his hand as we traipsed into his bedroom, snuggling up in his bed.

‘They offered me an extension,’ Namjoon said, looking at me carefully as he lay, flat on his back. I turned my head to look at him.

‘What did you say?’ I asked, feeling my heartbeat accelerate as I waited for him to respond.

He turned on his side to face me. ‘I turned them down. I can’t stay. I’ve got a job lined up back home, and it’s one I’ve been working toward for the last 5 years. It’s at the largest paediatric hospital in Seoul. It’s what I’ve always wanted.’

I couldn’t look at him. ‘It sounds perfect,’ I managed.

‘I thought it was,’ he agreed. ‘It was what I wanted before I came back here and met you.’

‘That’s a non-fuckboy thing to say,’ I said, lightly.

‘I’m trying to be serious.’ Namjoon turned my face towards him, and a tear slid down my cheek as I tried rapidly to blink it away.

‘So am I,’ I said tiredly. ‘It sounds perfect Namjoon. It sounds like everything you want.’

‘It’s not all I want,’ he said, rubbing a thumb over my bottom lip. ‘I want you.’

‘Should I start learning Korean,’ I mused.

‘I said be serious,’ Namjoon groaned. ‘Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.’

I cupped his face. ‘I can’t come to Korea, Namjoon. I have a year left of training – I can’t leave now.’

‘So, what do we do then?’ Namjoon asked gently.

‘I don’t know, Joonie. Let’s fuck.’

‘Oh god, can you be serious for one second. I want a future with you. If there’s any chance at all for us, I can wait a year. I can wait as long as you want. I can’t let you go again,’ Namjoon pleaded.

‘I can’t hold you to that Namjoon. We can’t hold each other to that. What if you end up falling in love with one of your mum’s friends’ daughters?’ I half joked, tears slipping down my face.

Namjoon held me as I cried, stroking my hair and murmuring soft words into the top of my head. ‘I want you too, Joonie. I just don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.’

Namjoon smiled wryly. ‘I’m the only fuckboy for you, baby.’

‘I know that, Joonie. Can we fuck now?’

Namjoon laughed. ‘I’m going to make love to you. Because I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

As I collapsed, breathless into his arms after we had made love, I pressed my face into his chest. ‘Joonie?’

‘Mmm hmm?’ he asked, rubbing a lazy circle over my shoulder.

‘That felt awfully similar to the fucking we’ve been doing up to now. Have you been making love to me this whole time?’

Namjoon was quiet. ‘I guess so.’

He paused. ‘Except in the staff bathroom. That was fucking.’

I laughed into his chest and closed my eyes. ‘Night Joonie.’

‘Night, Y/N.’

************************************************************************

Two Years Later

‘and so ultimately, the surgical reconstruction technique does not appear to have an impact on the long-term patency of the vessels. Thank you very much for listening, and I’m happy to take any questions.’

I walked down the steps leading up to podium carefully in my heels, feeling euphoric. I had just given one of the keynote presentations at an international cardiothoracics conference, and it had been well-received.

I stopped at the end of the auditorium to gather my things, checking all my valuables were still present and pausing to check my messages.

‘Hey,’ said a voice from behind me.

I froze and turned so quickly I nearly tripped on my heels. I recognised that voice.

‘Namjoon?’

And there he was, in the flesh, looking better than he had any right to look. I couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in everything about him, from his current hair colour (chestnut brown) to his broad chest encased in a navy suit, to the subtle silver studs in his ears.

‘That was a great paper,’ he said, softly. ‘Impressive.’

I waved a hand. ‘Oh well, you know how it is. You get thrown a great project once in a while and you run with it.’ What was I even saying?

‘Hey, you want to grab a coffee?’ I blurted quickly.

He hesitated then, and a sick feeling bloomed in the pit of my stomach.

‘I don’t think I can, Y/N,’ he replied.

‘Oh sure, no worries, I guess I’ll catch you around,’ I said, rapidly stuffing my things into my bag. Clearly, he had moved on, unlike me.

‘No wait,’ he said, hand out to grab my arm as I turned to leave. ‘I can’t grab a coffee with you.’

He paused for so long that I looked up, my gaze meeting his.

‘I can’t grab a coffee with you now because I have a lecture to give in one of the breakout sessions. But what I actually want to say is I want to have dinner with you today, tomorrow, every day. I want to grab a coffee with you tomorrow, and every morning after that. I want you in my bed tonight, and every night. I need to say this now because I feel like this is our last chance, Y/N, and I don’t want to lose you without saying what I need to say.’

‘Wow,’ I breathed, ‘that’s a really non-fuckboy thing to say.’

We both laughed, and then I was in his arms. ‘I was never a fuckboy,’ he grumbled. ‘Just a nerd who fucking loves you.’

‘I love you, Joon,’ I whispered to him, my heels bringing me up high enough to brush against his ear. ‘I love you so fucking much.’

‘Fuck,’ he murmured. ‘Stop breathing my name like that. I can’t give this lecture with a boner.’

I giggled, pressing a kiss to his neck. We were starting to turn heads but for once I didn’t care.

‘Can I watch you give your lecture, Namjoon?’ I asked.

‘Sure. As long as you don’t distract me.’

‘How would I do that, Joon?’ I asked, looking up at him.

‘No actually I’m uninviting you. You are NOT allowed to come.’

‘What are you going to do, spank me?’ I muttered, following him out of the auditorium.

‘Don’t fucking tempt me,’ he replied, gaze turning dark as he looked at me. ‘Your ass looks fucking great in that dress.’

Part 1

I pushed open the door and slid into one of the chairs around the conference table, making eye contact with my friend Mel before taking a sip of my flat white. It was early autumn. I half-listened as the night team went over the patients and the plan for the day. I’d worked the weekend prior and knew my patients pretty well already.

After handover Mel caught up with me outside the unit. ‘Good weekend?’ she asked.

‘Would have been better if Chan had stayed at home,’ I muttered, dropping my empty coffee cup into the bin. Dr Chan was one of the attendings and notorious for being clinically excellent yet incapable of behaving like a decent human being.

Mel rolled her eyes. ‘Let me guess – he stayed in and pissed off all the nurses?’

I laughed. ‘That’s standard for him. He also pissed off half the staff in the ER. He was only there for 30 minutes before I convinced him to go. For his safety and mine. How was your weekend?’

Mel grinned. ‘I met up with Tae.’ I alco-gelled my hands as we passed through the unit doors.

‘Sounds fun,’ I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

‘It was,’ Mel smirked. ‘Tell you about it later’. Tae was Mel’s newest boyfriend, an incredibly good-looking yet unbelievably cocky orthopaedics fellow. Despite his general fuckboy demeanour, he was kind and funny and, as Mel put it, incredibly kinky in bed. I had no doubt she would fill me in later.

The rest of the morning was spent reviewing patients, organising scans and contacting other teams for consults. I was at the hub waiting for a call back when I sensed a shadow over my screen.

‘I’m here for the chest closure,’ said a voice. I looked up, slightly panicked as the bedside nurse and I were only halfway through getting things ready for the closure. My eyes met a pair of brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. The eyes crinkled up at the corners, and I knew if I could see behind the surgical mask, I would see twin dimples on either side of a devastatingly handsome smile.

‘Namjoon?’ I stuttered.

‘Y/N,’ he replied.

Holy fucking shit. If there was anyone from my past I was not expecting to see, it was Kim fucking Namjoon.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, my eyes running from the top of his ash-grey hair to the thin silver chain round his neck to the expanse of tan chest exposed by the V-neck of his standard issue blue hospital scrubs, down his long legs to the white Nikes on his feet.

I hadn’t seen him in 10 years, and whilst I had spent those years in the depths of paediatric intensive care, apparently Namjoon had spent those years becoming the fucking hot older brother to the scruffy nerdy lab partner I had in medical school.

I flushed as I realised that whilst I had been looking him up and down, he had been doing the same to me.

‘I’ve just started,’ Namjoon replied. ‘I’m the new cardiothoracics fellow.’ His eyes met mine. ‘So you’re an intensivist?’

‘Well my neuroticism had to be good for something,’ I joked, standing up. I paused, looking at him and trying to decide what to say.

‘The patient,’ I blurted out, immediately wanting to kick myself, ‘I’ll take you to them. We're just getting drugs ready so it’ll be another 15 minutes before we can start.’ It looked like Namjoon was going to say something else, but I was already heading towards my patient, and so he fell into step behind me.

‘This is Namjoon from cardiothoracics,’ I told Nina, the bedside nurse, ‘he’s here to do the chest closure.’

Nina gave me the same panicked glance I had given Namjoon. ‘Our drugs aren’t ready!’ she squeaked.

Namjoon chuckled, holding up his hands. ‘Don’t worry guys, I’ll be doing it with Francesco, so we can’t start yet. I just wanted to see the patient beforehand.’

Nina and I exchanged a glance. ‘I’ll get prescribing, then I can help you draw them up,’ I said.

I turned to walk back to the hub, pausing by Namjoon.

‘It’s lovely to see you,’ I said, realising too late how close I was standing to him. I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. Had he always been so tall? He looked down at me, eyes crinkling at the corners.

‘Likewise,’ he said, and I felt myself flush again. What was wrong with me? I beat a hasty retreat to the nearest free computer. Today was turning out to be an interesting day.

************************************************************************

I pulled off my scrub hat, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was five past one and we had just finished the chest closure. My stomach rumbled. I had got home at 11 the previous night, and apart from the flat white I had bolted in handover, I hadn’t eaten since 6 the previous evening.

Namjoon and Francesco had finished the chest closure and disappeared, whilst I had remained by the bed until the surgical drapes came off my patient. It was just as well – it hadn’t been difficult to pay attention during the procedure, but as the patient was relatively stable, I had found my gaze wandering to Namjoon more often than was probably acceptable in normal societal interaction.

Mel paused next to me. ‘Lunch?’ she suggested.

‘Sounds good,’ I replied. ‘I just need to order this chest X-ray.’

Mel glanced over, then her vision snapped to a point behind me.

I turned. Namjoon was standing there, loupes and hat off. His scrub hat had left a little pressure line across his forehead, and his hair was slightly mussed. I looked at him quizzically.

‘Lunch?’ he said. I tilted my head at him.

He looked at his feet. ‘I mean,’ he said, ‘would you like to grab some lunch?’

Mel was already picking up the phone. ‘I’ll order the X-ray. See you after lunch!’ she chirped.

I looked at her and she smiled back. ‘Sure,’ I said casually. ‘Have you got yours with you or do you need to buy something to eat?’ I knew the answer already. Having spent a lot of weekends studying with Namjoon in medical school, I was aware that his culinary skills were feeble at best. Namjoon snorted and we both laughed, and for a moment I felt the years fall away.

‘Let me introduce you to the hellhole that is the staff canteen,’ I said. Namjoon held out his arm, and I gave only the briefest of pauses before placing my hand in the crook of his, surprisingly firm, arm.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ I told Mel, who only smiled sweetly at me. ‘Take your time,’ she said innocently. ‘There’s nothing else to do this afternoon anyway.’

I let go of Namjoon’s arm as we left the unit, leading him down the stairwell to the canteen. ‘The options are dire at best,’ I warned.

Namjoon smiled at me. ‘I think you know I eat everything,’ he replied, holding the door open for me as we entered the noise and heat of the canteen. His words triggered a flashback to the last summer before graduation, when he and I had been two of only a few students left on campus during the summer holidays.

I looked sharply at him, but he was perusing the options under the heated lamps, a moderately appalled look in his eyes.

‘There’s sandwiches in that fridge,’ I suggested, pointing. We settled for jacket potatoes and nabbed an outside table. Namjoon pulled off his surgical mask, as did I.

‘Wow,’ he said, and the warmth in his gaze made me feel strangely trembly. ‘You look the same.’

‘Tired and stressed?’ I suggested lightly, smiling at him.

‘Pretty,’ he countered. ‘And also tired.’

I stabbed my plastic fork into my potato to hide the awkwardness I felt at his compliment.

‘You’re the pretty one now,’ I joked. ‘What’s with the K-pop idol hair?’

He ran his fingers through his short ash-grey hair self-consciously. ‘Is it too much?’

‘No,’ I said, sincerely, ‘it suits you. It’s a good look.’

Namjoon scoffed, stuffing his mouth full of beans.

‘We have a lot of things to catch up on. How do we even begin?’ I wondered.

‘I guess we’ll have to keep meeting up,’ Namjoon replied, dimpling at me. ‘I’m here for the year.’

Over lunch, I found out that Namjoon had worked in London after our graduation, then moved back to Seoul, where he had been working when he had accepted the cardiothoracics fellowship he was currently on.

As I returned to the unit, I logged onto the computer beside where Mel was tapping away at the soft-touch keyboard. Mel glanced over. I could feel the tips of my ears turning red.

‘Yes?’ I mumbled, tugging at my surgical mask awkwardly.

‘So….he’s a bit of a snack, isn’t he?’

I laughed. ‘God, Mel. Isn’t he?’

‘Fucking gorgeous,’ Mel laughed. ‘How do you know him? And do you have his number?’

‘Hold up! What about Tae?’ I spluttered.

‘Well, if you hadn’t ditched me for lunch, I would have told you about the latest thing I’ve discovered about Tae, which is that he doesn’t mind sharing,’ Mel smirked.

‘Fucking Taehyung,’ I said drily, ‘a saint among men.’

Mel chuckled. ‘Isn’t he? Don’t worry though, I saw the way cardiothoracics man looked at you. I don’t think I could compete.’

‘His name is Namjoon,’ I replied, tamping down the faint thrill I felt at the idea that Namjoon would have looked at me a certain way.

‘OOOOOOH, Namjooooooon,’ Mel hooted, bursting into giggles.

‘Fuck’s sake Mel, this is an ICU. Keep it professional.’ I scolded. Our eyes met and we both laughed.

Then something occurred to me. ‘Wait! How did you find out Tae likes sharing?’ I asked, intrigued.

************************************************************************

I next saw Namjoon when he came down to the PICU with a patient he had operated on. He stood next to me and we exchanged a smile as we waited for the anaesthetics team to transfer the patient into a bed. ‘How’ve you been?’ he asked.

‘Yeah good,’ I replied, blinking up at him. ‘Been to the canteen lately?’

Namjoon shuddered visibly. ‘I can’t believe you took me to that place. I pick up lunch at the supermarket before I come in now.’

I snorted with laughter. ‘It wasn’t that bad!’

‘It was worse,’ Namjoon said flatly.

Pointed throat clearing caught our attention. ‘Are we ready for handover?’ asked the cardiac anaesthetist, Tom.

‘Yes, sorry,’ I replied meekly. Namjoon nodded slightly, lifting a hand in apology.

After handover, I was heading to a computer to order investigations when I heard shuffling from behind me.

‘Lunch?’

I turned and Namjoon grinned at me. ‘I have a spare salad,’ he said casually.

I looked at the wall clock. ‘It’s barely 11 am!’

‘So?’ Namjoon asked. ‘I’ve been operating for the past 3 hours.’

‘I can’t,’ I say regretfully. ‘I’ve got a tonne of jobs to do from handover.’

Namjoon’s face fell.

‘Maybe a coffee later? I’m on a long day,’ I said quickly, before I could overthink it.

Namjoon smiled. ‘I’m on call from 5. Text me when you’re free?’

‘Sure,’ I said. He looked like he was about to say something else, then he reached out and touched my neck.

I looked at him quizzically. He held up a scrap of white plastic. ‘Your apron,’ he explained, ‘this was stuck to the back of your neck.’

My neck felt warm where he had touched me. ‘Occupational hazard,’ I muttered.

‘See you later,’ Namjoon said. I watched as he tossed the scrap into a pedal bin on his way out, his easy gait and broad shoulders evident even in hospital scrubs.

I clapped a hand over my face. What was I doing? I had no idea whether he had a girlfriend or fiancée, and here I was, developing a crush.

‘Keep it together, Y/L/N,’ I said sternly to myself.

‘Y/N,’ called a nurse, and I headed in her direction, grateful for the distraction from standing there fantasizing about Kim Namjoon.

************************************************************************

I leaned back in my seat, laughing. The on-call attending was Dr Black, who was possessed of an inappropriately morbid sense of humour that I could definitely relate to.

‘And so, I said, I don’t mean to be rude, but can somebody do some fucking CPR on this kid,’ he said.

‘You didn’t say that,’ I countered.

‘Yes, I fucking did,’ chortled Dr Black gleefully. He paused and looked over my shoulder.

‘Can I help?’ he asked politely. I turned.

‘Yes,’ said Namjoon. ‘I just came to see if Y/N was free for a coffee.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Dr Black replied. ‘We work them pretty hard on PICU. I am not sure that’s allowed.’

I snorted. ‘This is Namjoon, the new cardiothoracics fellow, Dr Black. Namjoon, this is Dr Black, an elderly attending.’

‘I’m not that old,’ said Dr Black indignantly.

‘And yes, I am free for coffee, does anyone want me to pick them up anything?’ I asked, getting up.

Dr Black ignored me. ‘So you’re cardiothoracics are you?’ he asked, nodding to Namjoon.

‘Yes, here for the year on fellowship,’ replied Namjoon politely. ‘I’ve just started.’

‘Settling in ok? How do you know Y/N?’

‘We went to medical school together,’ I explained. ‘Then we lost touch until he started here.’

‘Well, welcome,’ said Dr Black, smiling kindly. ‘Don’t listen to anything Y/N says about me.’

Namjoon laughed, ‘I won’t.’

‘And on that note, let’s go Namjoon,’ I said, pulling on his arm to get him to move. Namjoon allowed me to guide him down to the coffee shop tucked in a corner of the hospital.

‘Seems like a nice guy,’ Namjoon remarked as we settled in with our coffees.

‘Yes, he’s great,’ I replied, ‘most of the attendings are, apart from one.’

‘Which one?’ asked Namjoon.

‘Oh, his name is Dr Chan, you’ll know him when you see him. He is great clinically but is a total dick to basically everyone,’ I explained.

‘Even you?’ asked Namjoon, his jaw tensing.

I paused, looking for the right words to explain. ‘He is an indiscriminate dick,’ I said lightly, sipping my coffee.

Namjoon’s expression darkened. ‘I’ll look out for him,’ is all he said.

I sat back in my chair, sighing. ‘How’s your day been, busy?’

Namjoon started to reply, and my gaze dropped to his beautiful hands holding his coffee cup. He had always had lovely hands, long fingers, well-delineated veins. My gaze travelled up his arms, defined biceps just visible under the shortish sleeves of his scrubs top.

Suddenly I realised he had stopped talking. My eyes snapped to his.

Namjoon smirked. ‘Are you checking me out?’

I met his gaze steadily. ‘Yes, you’re a straight hottie,’ I replied, and we both laughed.

‘You were always the hot one, Y/N,’ Namjoon said. ‘How many guys did you date in medical school?’ He paused. ‘At the same time?’

I laughed, flushing slightly at his reference to my past history of overlapping. ‘I guess you’ve made up for lost time since med school?’

Namjoon grinned at me, dimples flashing. ‘What are you talking about? I looked good in a lab coat.’

I snorted. ‘The problem was never the way you looked, Namjoon. It was the way you shouted out answers in every pathology class. The way you participated so enthusiastically in every PBL seminar. Admit it, you were a total nerd.’

Namjoon smirked. ‘Got in your pants, though,’ he said quietly.

I leaned over to smack him on the arm. ‘Rude!’

And just like that, I flashed back to his attic bedroom in a shared house we had to ourselves for the summer. The way he had looked over one lazy day and how, unable to help myself, I had kissed his dimpled cheek. One thing had led to another and the next thing I knew we were in his rumpled sheets, his warm breath on my neck, his hips rolling against mine…

Namjoon looked at me, tilting his head to one side and flashing the dimple in his left cheek. ‘Good times, huh,’ he said, voice low, that familiar deep tenor making my stomach flip.

I was saved from answering when his bleep went off. ‘You should get that,’ I said, hastily getting up. Namjoon gazed up at me, hand on his phone to answer his page. He looked like he had more to say but I was already putting my surgical mask back on to leave.

************************************************************************

It was heaving. I kept my eyes on the monitoring as I pushed the ambulance trolley with our latest admission through the hospital corridors, heading to PICU. I was back from my second retrieval of the day, having collected a collapsed baby from a nearby hospital to admit to PICU.

As we arrived on the unit, the consultant of the day, Dr Sycombe, looked up. ‘You’re back,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘Is the baby ok?’

‘Yes, pretty stable,’ I replied, pushing the trolley into the allocated bedspace and turning to her as the ambulance tech and the nurse started transferring the pumps and monitoring over.

‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ Dr Sycombe asked.

‘No bad news allowed,’ said Seb, the ambulance tech, voice testy. I just waited.

‘Well the good news, is that you can come in a couple of hours late for your shift tomorrow.’ The nurse, a calm dark haired petite woman called Lucy, was already putting the pieces together.

‘Where are you sending us to next?’ she asked, voice resigned. It was 6pm and another trip meant we were all going to finish late. The only question was how late.

Dr Sycombe told us and there was a collective sigh of relief. The hospital was 40 minutes away, which meant we were likely to be back at base only a couple of hours past the end of our shift time.

‘I’ll just get a quick snack before we go,’ said Lucy.

Seb was already on the phone. ‘I’ll get Matt to refuel the ambulance whilst we transfer this little one over.’

‘I’ll take care of handover,’ I said, nodding to Lucy and Seb whilst we started transferring the patient over into his new cot.

As I set up the ventilator, Angela the bedside nurse turned to me. ‘Oh, that cardiothoracics fellow was asking after you earlier,’ she said, setting up a pump. I glanced over.

‘Which one?’ I asked.

Angela chuckled. ‘The one literally everyone swoons over whenever he turns up? The tall one with the shoulders.’

I laughed at the idea of everyone lusting over Namjoon. ‘He was such a nerd in med school,’ I told Angela.

‘Oh,’ squealed Ruby, another nurse who was helping. ‘Do you think if I ask him for help with my cardiac course, he might give me some tutoring?’

‘What kind of ‘tutoring’?’ snorted Angela, raising an eyebrow. We all laughed at that, and then it was time to leave.

I got back in record time – it was before 11 when I left the unit. I strode through the deserted car park, already thinking about the pizza I was going to order after my shower. I pressed on the ignition, waiting for the familiar rev of the engine, and was greeted by silence. It took me about 10 tries to accept that my car wouldn’t start.

I grabbed my phone, ready to look up the number of the roadside assistance service I paid for, when a car parked in the space next to mine. I looked over automatically, shielding my eyes against the glare of the headlamps.

‘Namjoon,’ I squeaked. He gestured to his window, making a rolling down motion. I rolled down my window.

‘You ok?’ he asked.

‘Oh yeah,’ I replied, ‘I’m ok. It’s just my car won’t start. Do you have any jumper cables?’

‘No. Are you back in tomorrow?’

‘Yes, such a pain! I’m going to call the AA,’ I replied, waving my phone.

‘Well why don’t you let me give you a lift and you can sort it tomorrow?’ he suggested.

‘I live an hour away. I can just get a cab.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, unlocking his doors. ‘It’s late. I live 5 minutes away, just stay over at mine and I’ll drive you back in tomorrow.’

I hesitated, but the idea of a hot shower and something to eat was too tempting. ‘Are you sure?’

By way of reply, Namjoon reached over and pushed his door open. I grabbed the small overnight bag of toiletries I left in my car for contingencies and got in.

‘Wow,’ I said, admiring his leather seats. ‘Nice car.’

Namjoon looked over at me. ‘Yeah, it’s a lease, I figured I’m here for a year, might as well get a nice car whilst I’m over here.’

‘Have you had dinner?’ I asked, settling into the seat. His stomach growled in response. I reached over and patted his abdomen.

‘Guess not,’ I said, giggling. I paused and we both looked down at my hand resting on him. His taut, firm abdomen. Oh my god! What was I doing? I jerked my hand back like I’d been scalded.

Namjoon smiled at me. ‘Nothing you haven’t felt before,’ he remarked, pulling the car out of the car park.

‘You weren’t packing those before,’ I replied. ‘Namjoon got buff.’ I meant it to be teasing but when our eyes met, his gaze was heated.

‘Like what you felt?’ he asked lightly. I looked away nervously.

‘I think I am disinhibited with hunger,’ I told him, picking up my phone. ‘Pizza?’

Namjoon insisted on letting me shower first while he waited for the pizza. His flat was small and cosy, and his bathroom surprisingly luxurious. I got undressed and was just about to run the water when he knocked at the door.

‘Yes?’ I squeaked, grabbing my towel as though he was about to walk in.

‘I’ve got some pyjamas for you,’ Namjoon called through the door.

‘Oh, thanks,’ I said, wrapping the towel around myself before pulling the door open. I reached out a hand and he paused, eyes dropping to my exposed shoulders briefly.

‘Here you go,’ he said, handing me a bundle of clothes. I thanked him and shut the door.

Namjoon

Namjoon got crockery out of his kitchen cupboard for dinner. The sound of the shower running in the background was unusual enough to distract him. He was used to living alone and hadn’t had anyone over in the last couple of months.

His thoughts wandered to Y/N and how she had looked when she opened the door to take his clothes, her hair up in a loose bun, her cheeks flushed and her shoulders bare. She looked more stunning than any fantasy he had had about her since medical school.

She had always been beautiful, but more than that she had been a loyal friend to him throughout medical school despite all her foibles. She had been a serial dater, often dating multiple guys at once, drawing them in with her sparkly eyes and dark sense of humour.

She got away with it because she was light-hearted and kind, always willing to help anyone in need. It was no surprise to him that she got into paediatric intensive care -- her mix of kindness and cynicism made her the perfect personality type for it.

He remembered the first time they had had sex, in his attic bedroom. They had technically finished medical school, their exams over and results out -- and had a shortened summer holiday to be able to start on their first placements right after graduation.

‘An end of an era’, they had called it, the last time they would spend together before taking up jobs on different sides of the country. She had looked over at him, and he had smiled, showing her his dimples that he knew she loved. He hadn’t expected her to lean over and kiss him, but once she did, he knew he was lost. All he could think was ‘finally’. Finally, after 5 years of her dating everyone in sight except him.

‘Namjoon?’ the uncharacteristically shy voice pulled him out of his memories. His gaze snapped to her, dressed in his clothes, an impish smile on her pretty face.

‘I can’t believe you still have this?’ she marvelled, tugging at the material of the soft T-shirt he had given her, their old graduation T-shirt with the names of the entire year on the back.

‘It’s my favourite sleeping t-shirt,’ he confessed, loving the way she looked up at him. ‘You look great in it.’ She laughed then, lifting a leg slightly awkwardly in his old basketball shorts that were too long for her.

‘I’m sure I do. Oversized men’s clothes are a good look for me,’ she said sarcastically, smiling at him.

‘Especially if they’re mine,’ Namjoon said, so quietly he wasn’t sure if she heard.

The doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it!’ she called, skidding across his living room to the front door.

************************************************************************

I wasn’t sure if it was too hot in Namjoon’s living room or if it was just his proximity. He had showered and changed into a variation of the clothes he had given me – an oversized tee and grey sweatpants. We were sprawled on his sofa watching an old Cantonese film – I remembered Namjoon being a huge film buff in addition to being an avid reader, it was one of the many things we used to have in common.

He nudged my thigh with his socked foot. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’

I grabbed his foot. ‘You’d better have changed your socks since work, Namjoon.’

He smiled. ‘Are you kidding. It was a real sacrifice letting you shower first – I normally can’t wait to get changed. My feet get so sore standing all day.’

I squeezed his foot and he moaned dramatically. ‘That feels so good. Give me a foot rub.’

I paused, torn between incredulity at his demand and the desire to please him. Namjoon waggled his eyebrows.

‘I did rescue you from a 1-hour cab journey. Or a 1 hour wait for the AA,’ he said teasingly.

‘Oh, so I owe you?’ I asked lightly, rubbing my thumbs over his feet.

‘You don’t owe me anything. You always were amazing at back rubs though.’

I pressed my thumbs into the arch of his feet, turning to face him.

‘You always were a big baby,’ I teased. Namjoon just grinned, dimples on full display as I rubbed his feet before moving up to his calves over his sweatpants.

In some ways I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but in others I think I knew exactly what I was doing. I massaged up his calves lightly as the movie played in the background. I didn’t speak Cantonese, but I had watched it enough times to be able to follow what was happening.

Namjoon hummed in appreciation as my hands moved up his legs. As I got to his thighs, I took a breath. The man had sure filled out since medical school. Even through his loose sweatpants I could see the definition from what could only have been the thickest thighs I had ever seen on a man. I kept my eyes on his thighs, not daring to look up, worried about what I might see on his face.

As my hands wandered up to mid-thigh, I heard him suck in a breath.

I looked up to see his eyes on me, pupils dilated, his gaze dark. As I dropped my eyes I focused in on an unmistakeable bulge in his groin.

‘Fuck,’ he swore. ‘I can’t play this game with you anymore.’

I looked up at him again, kneeling between his legs. ‘What game?’ I asked innocently.

He chuckled then, low and husky. ‘You always were a tease.’

In one swift movement he sat up, cupping a hand behind my neck, under my hair. ‘You look so fucking good in my clothes,’ he said, bringing his face so close to mine our lips were millimetres apart.

I smiled then. ‘Show me your fucking dimples, Namjoon.’ He grinned at me and I leaned forward, kissing his left cheek, letting my tongue flit against his skin. Suddenly he turned and his lips captured mine. I sighed with pleasure. His lips were so incredibly soft.

Namjoon

Namjoon wanted to pinch himself. He couldn’t believe what was happening – the last thing he had expected when he had left work that day was to end up with Y/N, the girl he had had a crush on for years, between his thighs, giving him the best massage he had ever had.

She sighed against his lips, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she turned fully to him. Namjoon could have held back, but the final straw was when she reached out with her other hand, tucking it warm against his waist. He kissed a path across her jaw, down her slender neck, pausing to flick his tongue against the hollow of her collarbones. She moaned then, and the sound made even more blood rush to his dick.

Suddenly his hands were around her waist, and she arched back onto his sofa, pulling him down with her. Her legs spread to accommodate his hips, and she gasped as he ground his pelvis against hers.

Y/N

It was getting so hot. Namjoon’s lips felt so warm against my neck I whimpered at the sudden loss as he pulled away.

‘Can I take this off?’ he asked, hands firm around my waist over his t-shirt.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, pretending to think about it. ‘Can you take yours off?’

In a millisecond he reached behind his neck, shucking his t-shirt in that way men do that is so incredibly sexy. Kim Namjoon with his shirt off was a sight to behold. His bare chest with a silver chain between his collarbones was broader and deeper than I remembered, and his shoulders! I wanted to kiss all along the width of them.

I realised he was watching me again. ‘Are you checking me out again?’ he asked, smugly.

In response I ran a hand down his flat stomach. ‘Is that a problem?’

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and instead of replying, he bent over and nudged at the hem of my t-shirt with his nose. Pulling it up to the curve just under my breasts, he licked a stripe up my torso. Then he pushed the soft material up further and looked up at me delightedly. ‘What? No bra?’

I covered my face, slightly embarrassed at the way he was looking at me so intently, my nipples exposed and tight. ‘Oh my god, Namjoon.’

Again, he didn’t respond. Instead, I felt warm breath on my exposed nipple, then a long lick. ‘Oh,’ I cried, unable to help myself.

‘You still like this?’ he teased. My hands went involuntarily to the back of his neck, holding him to me as I arched into his mouth. Painfully slowly, he licked around my breast and suckled. My hips rose involuntarily, grinding up and onto him.

‘Namjoon,’ I gasped, trying to get more friction where I needed it the most.

‘What?’ he hummed, his fingers playing with one nipple whilst he suckled happily at the other. I reached down, cupping his erection with my hand.

‘I need you,’ I whispered into the shell of his ear. Namjoon jerked involuntarily at the sound, temporarily taking his mouth off me.

‘Show me,’ he said, hands pulling at the waistband of my/his shorts, helping me lift my hips. His knuckles brushed against my clit as he wriggled my shorts off, making me jerk. I moaned at the contact, hands reaching out to touch him.

‘Take yours off,’ I said, and no sooner had I finished my sentence when his sweatpants were off, tossed to a corner of the room, revealing his gorgeous cock and his incredible thighs. He was so hard it looked painful, and I swallowed at the sight. He curled a hand around himself, looking me in the eye.

‘Let me see you,’ he said, and I spread my legs for him. Before I realised what he was going to do he dipped his head between my legs and licked. A fresh flood of wetness gathered between my folds as he ran his tongue along my entrance, his nose nudging my clit.

‘You taste so fucking good,’ he moaned, as he pulled back to suck at my clit. I nearly came off the couch at the sensation, letting out an inordinately loud keen of pleasure.

‘Namjoon, please fuck me,’ I pleaded. He chuckled, low and husky, his tongue at my entrance, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me.

‘You’re so needy, baby. Do you want me to stuff my cock in this cunt?’

‘Yes,’ I cried, ‘Joon, please.’

‘Then cum for me. Cum for me and I’ll do anything you want,’ Namjoon promised. With that he pushed two fingers inside me, hitting the exact spot I needed, who knows how he remembered after all this time. He licked and sucked my clit like a starving man, moaning his appreciation as the two fingers he had worked into me stroked and pleasured. I could feel the tightening low down in my pelvis, the pressure building.

‘Namjoon, I can’t – I’m gonna…’ I never finished my sentence as he growled against my core and I came, riding his face.

‘Good girl,’ he said, kissing my thigh as he pulled his fingers out. ‘You look so pretty when you cum.’

He licked my cum off his fingers and left the room briefly, returning with a condom. He stood over me, breathless, one hand on his length. ‘What do you want, baby? A promise is a promise.’

I looked up at him through my lashes, smiling sweetly. ‘I want to taste you.’

His eyes darkened as he looked down at me. He sat down on the couch and I got off to kneel between his thighs. He sucked in a breath as I licked up the underside of his cock and cupped his balls in my hands.

‘Y/N, don’t tease,’ he warned.

I smiled and paused just long enough for him to cock an eyebrow at me as I leaned forward and took as much of him as I could into my mouth.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed, as I looked up at him, my lips around his cock. I licked him again and plunged deeper, trying to get my nose right up against his taut abs.

‘That feels amazing, baby,’ he murmured. Suddenly I felt his hand in my hair. ‘Stop. I’m not cumming until I get inside you.’

He lifted me into his lap and then his fingers were in me.

‘So wet,’ he murmured, amazed. ‘You’re still so wet for me.’ He lifted up the condom. ‘Put it on me, baby.’

I ripped the condom open, and as I unrolled it on his hard cock, he leaned forward to suck at my nipples again. I moaned at the sensation, then I lifted my hips, sitting on his dick.

I took him in to the hilt, gasping. ‘You’re so fucking big, Namjoon.’

He panted, the expression on his face strained. ‘You have no idea how good you feel, love,’ he replied. ‘You’re taking my cock so well.’ I braced my hands on his big thighs, taking a bit of time to adjust. It had been a while since I’d had sex, and I wasn’t flattering him, Namjoon was bigger than most.

Namjoon rested his forehead against my chest, nestling between my breasts. ‘Can I move?’ he stuttered out.

I nodded. ‘Yes please.’ He gripped me to him, moving me under him onto the couch and lifting one of my legs to his hip.

‘You feel so amazing, baby,’ he breathed out, pulling his cock out, leaving just the tip inside me then snapping his hips back to meet mine. His mouth was on mine, one hand holding my leg against his hip, the thumb of his other hand stroking against my clit. I cried out at the sensation.

‘Can you give me one more?’ he asked. ‘I think you can.’

I didn’t reply, lost in the feel of his cock in me and his thumb against my clit. He swore again, voice a deeper register than I’d ever heard from him. The combination of his deep voice against my ear and the friction from his thumb as he thrust into me was a heady mix, and suddenly I was cumming again, arching against him as he snapped his hips. I felt the smile on his lips against my neck.

‘You’re my good girl,’ he crooned, stroking my neck.

In response I shifted my pelvis, taking him deeper. ‘I am good, Namjoon, but you’re even better. Can you cum for me?’ I whispered into his ear. He groaned, and his hips stuttered, losing his rhythm.

‘Fuck!’ he cried, with a particularly hard thrust that shifted my whole body up as he came.

I shifted so his head lay between my breasts and wrapped my arms around him. He was so warm, his weight pressing me into the cushions, my legs propped apart by his pelvis. I closed my eyes.

‘That was amazing, Namjoon,’ I said quietly. He said nothing, and I wondered if he had fallen asleep.

Namjoon

Namjoon lifted his head, not wanting to crush her. He raised his upper body up, looking at her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. He got up to get a warm washcloth to clean her up and when he came back, she had turned on her side, one hand tucked under her face. ‘Y/N,’ he said, softly. She didn’t stir, and the easy cadence of her breathing told him she had fallen asleep. He picked her up and carried her to his bed, settling her under the fluffy duvet. She hummed a little and reached out to him as he let her go.

‘Namjoon?’ she asked, eyes closed, voice soft.

‘Yes baby?’ he asked.

‘Cuddle,’ she yawned. He had intended to sleep on the sofa but there was no way he was turning that down. Namjoon slid into bed next to her, arm around her waist, her back against his front. He pressed a kiss into her hair as she sighed, snuggling into him.

Y/N

I woke up not quite knowing where I was for a second. I shifted slightly, realising there was a warm male arm around my waist and instantly the events of the night before came back to me. The night before? It was still dark. I squirmed my hips and realised there was a cock nestled intimately against my ass cheeks.

A velvety voice against my ear sounded faintly amused. ‘I don’t know whether to tell you to stop or carry on, but if you keep squirming like that, we might have a problem.’ The grin on my face threatened to split it in half as I rocked my hips against him again, then worked my hand between us to palm his rapidly hardening cock.

‘I don’t see a problem here,’ I purred.

Namjoon laughed huskily. ‘I guess I don’t either.’ His big hand slid up my torso to cup my breast. ‘Are you sore, love?’ His voice and his hands were rapidly making me wet.

‘A little,’ I said. ‘But I want you.’ Namjoon hissed at my reply, lifting my hips up, his fingers slipping between my folds to make me ready for him.

The delicious friction of my nipples against the cool sheets and his talented fingers had me spreading for him. His hand came up to cup my cunt, spreading the wetness with his fingers. He licked up and down my folds as I moaned.

‘Can you take me?’ he asked.

I turned my face towards him. ‘Fuck me, Namjoon,’ I replied, reaching out to stroke him. He fumbled towards his nightstand, tearing into a condom and unrolling it over his length. And then he was inside me again, and we both hissed at the sensation of him sinking in to the hilt.

‘How did we go so long without doing this?’ he asked.

I giggled, reaching back to cup his balls. ‘You could have had me anytime, your ass looks amazing in scrubs,’ I teased.

Namjoon

Namjoon looked down at her smooth back, marvelling at the view as she arched beneath him. She let out a breathless moan, and unbelievably, his cock grew even harder.

‘You’re so fucking good at this,’ she cried. He ran a finger down the line of her spine, and she shuddered.

‘Joon,’ she moaned.

‘God, I love the way you say my name,’ he groaned. He pulled out, flipping her over, then re-entering her, his rhythm changing to a slow grind. Her eyes flew open, and the sight of her gorgeous eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips nearly sent him to the edge.

‘Joon,’ she cried again, the need in her voice making him feel positively feral.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promised, grinding his pelvis against hers as he dipped his head low to mouth at her breasts. Her arms came up, wrapping around his neck.

‘Joon,’ she wept, her hot breath against his ear. She didn’t seem capable to forming any other words, and he growled as he felt her tightening around him.

‘Cum for me,’ he murmured, his thumbs pressing so hard on her hips he was worried he might break her. She gasped and tightened, and he kept thrusting through her orgasm until he felt her muscles relax. She pressed kisses against his neck and chest, her hands smoothing over his back.

‘Fuck!’ she hissed. ‘How are you so good at this, Joon?’

Namjoon grunted. She clenched around him and suddenly her tongue was laving the sensitive spot on his neck, lips pressed to the hollow in his collarbones.

‘You’re so fucking big, Joon,’ she moaned, wrapping her legs around his hips to rock against him. The feel of her legs circling his hips, pulling him tight against her was so erotic it pushed him over the edge. Namjoon cried her name as he came, filling the condom. He collapsed on top of her and she let out a breathless squeal.

He lifted himself up instantly. ‘Did I squash you?’

She wound his arms around him. ‘I don’t mind,’ she insisted. They lay there for a few minutes, his dick softening and slipping out of her. She pulled off the condom, knotting it and tossing it carelessly in the general direction of the bin.

Y/N

I left to use the bathroom, and when I came back, Namjoon was sprawled across the bed in the same position I had left him in. I got into bed next to him, pulling the covers over us.

‘What time is it,’ I asked.

‘Too early,’ he replied, pulling me closer. ‘We have a couple of hours before we need to get up.’

I cupped his cheek. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ I told him. His eyes met mine.

‘Yeah, thanks for the ride,’ he smirked.

‘You’re gross,’ I laughed. ‘When did you become a fuckboy?’ He waggled his eyebrows comically at me.

‘Since I learned that girls don’t like it when you talk about the Kreb’s cycle all the time.’

‘This girl does,’ I joked. ‘Tell me all about it.’

His laugh rumbled in his chest. ‘Go the fuck to sleep,’ he said, dropping a kiss on my head. And so, I did.

Namjoon

Namjoon walked onto the ICU rapidly, side by side with his consultant, Francesco. He had been called down for an emergency cannulation onto ECMO. They didn’t need to be told where the emergency was – they could see a collection of people around a cot, the theatre scrub team having made it down before them.

‘Francesco,’ called Dr Sycombe, her eyes widening with relief as she saw them. ‘We need to get this baby on ECMO. We’re just getting a line in.’

Namjoon looked over at the cot and saw Y/N, fully scrubbed, wielding a needle and an ultrasound probe as she frowned over the head end of the baby, her brows drawn together and her gaze fixed to the ultrasound screen despite the noise and movement around her. Getting a central line in, in a small baby, could be tricky at the best of times, let alone when there was an audience of people waiting impatiently around you.

Francesco began scrubbing up and Namjoon waited to assist him to get his gown on before getting scrubbed himself. He glanced over at Y/N, realising that she had got the line in but was waiting for a suture to secure it.

Loud swearing caught his attention. ‘What are we waiting for? Get on with it.’

Namjoon bristled as he realised the words were directed at Y/N, by a furious looking male attending. This must be Dr Chan. ‘I’m just waiting for a suture,’ Y/N explained, her voice steady, one hand holding the line against the baby’s neck as she waited. ‘The one we had dropped on the floor and I can’t use it.’

Dr Chan huffed angrily, turning to glare at the nurse who had returned with a fresh suture. He snapped sterile gloves on. ‘Move, I’m taking over.’

Y/N’s gaze shot to him. ‘We’re in, I just need to suture it.’

Dr Chan nudged her out of the way with his shoulder. ‘Go and speak to haematology and get the blood ordered.’

Y/N stepped back, nearly stumbling as he moved into her space and began suturing. Namjoon couldn’t believe his eyes. Placing a couple of sutures would take less than 30 seconds. There was no actual need for anyone to take over. How obnoxious was this guy?

Y/N took a breath then turned, pulling her sterile gown off. She looked up and noticed him watching her. He was too far away to say anything to her. The corners of her mask moved up as she gave him a weak smile, and then turned, heading to the nearest sink to wash up.

Y/N

I stopped by the sink, trying to calm down as I snapped my gloves off and started washing my hands. My hands trembled as I washed them, a combination of the adrenaline wearing off from the resuscitation and fury from the way Dr Chan had treated me. The absolute icing on the cake was having Namjoon witness it all, and I flushed with humiliation. I dried off my hands, trying to suppress all the emotions I felt as I dialled the number to order blood for the patient.

Job done, I returned to the bedspace and looked around for anything I could do to help. I could see Namjoon and Francesco, fully scrubbed, dissecting down vessels in an open version of what I had just done on the other side of the neck.

Dr Chan snapped his fingers at me, catching my attention. The man was on a mission to be as vile as possible today, apparently.

‘Yes, Dr Chan?’ I gritted out, fighting to keep my expression neutral as I fought my inner rage at being summoned like a dog. I could see Namjoon and Francesco exchanging a glance.

‘Use your words, Dr Chan,’ retorted Nina, the bedside nurse. Dr Chan was notorious for behaving like a brute when things got stressful, and most senior nurses, like Nina, were accustomed to having to rein him in when his behaviour got particularly bad.

‘I need some goddamn fentanyl,’ Dr Chan glowered. I grabbed the keys off Nina, who smiled gratefully at me as I nodded and walked to the controlled drugs cupboard to get it.

Having signed out and drawn up the fentanyl, I returned to the bedspace, watching the perfusionists as they primed the ECMO circuit with emergency blood. As the patient went onto ECMO I turned off some of the pumps running infusions that were no longer needed whilst Namjoon and Francesco waited for the cardiologist to check the position of the cannulas they had just inserted.

‘Good flows on the circuit,’ called the perfusionist.

‘Good means on the art trace,’ said Dr Chan.

‘Happy with the cannulas?’ asked Francesco, looking at the cardiologist.

‘Yes,’ grunted Andy, the cardiologist. ‘Perfect.’ There was a collective sigh of relief.

‘Good effort, team,’ said Francesco. He was the exact antithesis of Dr Chan, an incredibly talented surgeon in his late 50s who managed to always behave impeccably. For a moment I envied Namjoon. I couldn’t imagine Francesco ever snapping his fingers at him.

As if sensing my thoughts, Namjoon’s eyes met mine. I sent him a thumbs up and a smile. ‘Good job,’ I mouthed, forgetting he couldn’t see my lips through my mask. He seemed to get the gist, though, eyes crinkling at the corners before he turned his attention to securing the ECMO cannulas.

After work, I was waiting in the car park for the AA to arrive and see to my car when Namjoon pulled up next to me. He got out of his car, hand rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost shy as he walked up to me. ‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ I replied, smiling up at him. I gestured to my car. ‘Just waiting for the AA to arrive.’

‘Yeah? Once they’ve fixed your car, do you want to grab dinner? I figured you might know where’s good around here.’

I looked down, trying to stop the silly grin that was threatening to spread over my face at his words.

‘Doesn’t dinner usually come before the incredibly hot sex?’ I asked lightly.

He laughed then, his voice dropping a register as he replied.

‘Are you propositioning me again, Y/N?’

‘Hell, yes I am,’ I said instantly, and we both laughed. He looked at me for a moment then kissed the side of my mouth.

‘You’re stunning,’ he said quietly.

I fidgeted with my hair. ‘You like hat hair?’ I teased, referring to the way my hair had flattened from wearing a scrubs hat for most of the day.

‘Oh yeah,’ replied Namjoon, and the ridiculous expression on his face had me leaning forward to kiss him again.

‘Whoa,’ said Namjoon. ‘These scrubs are not good at hiding boners.’

My gaze dropped to his crotch instantly, and he chuckled. ‘You can see later, if you want.’

‘Now who’s propositioning who?’

Hoseok’s had a long day, and it looks nowhere close to being over. He’s been ordered down to this one-horse town by his direct superior, assistant director Joan Kim, to look into a murder.

As far as he knows, Joan isn’t just in it to torture him, so there’s more to this than meets the eye. It would have been great if just this one fucking time Joan could give him the information instead of waiting for him to find it out himself, but he’s got to admit she’s consistent if nothing else.

He parks his car outside the police station, taking a moment to look in the mirror and wish he’d taken the time to change prior to driving here.

He’s wearing a black cashmere sweater, not a colour he normally wears, but his sister had convinced him he’d look suave and sophisticated for his date.

His date, a woman who took one look at him and called him for the cop he is and then asked nervously if he had done a background check on her. The date had gone downhill from there.

He hadn’t even had a chance to have dessert, and if he’d been a smarter man he’d have downed the rest of his wine to be over the legal limit for driving down here the instant he got the call.  

As it is, he’s sexually frustrated, hungry and too fucking sober for this.

Hoseok forces himself to stop sulking and get his ass out the car, because the sooner he gets to the bottom of this, the sooner he can get back to his lonely-ass life back home.

He braces himself as he walks across the car park to the entrance of the station. Local detectives, especially in towns like this, are classically hostile to state detectives. He’s used to it, used to the sideways glances, the barely civil mutterings and today he’s on his last nerve.

The first person he sees as he walks in is you, and he almost walks right past you until you stand in his way.

‘Special Agent Jung Hoseok?’ you ask.

Hoseok nods politely because he’s got manners, but he’s already looking beyond you for the detective who’s meant to meet him.

‘I’m Detective Y/N L/N,’ you say, persistent.

Finally, Hoseok looks at you.

Usually, local detectives wear uniform in towns like this.

You’re wearing a slinky black dress and heels that make him wish your beautiful legs were wrapped around him.

He’s one to talk, in his black cashmere and dress trousers.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I wasn’t expecting –’

‘Yeah, I was on a date,’ you say briskly, leading him to your office.

‘Me too,’ Hoseok says.

‘Yeah? Was yours going well?’ you ask, throwing him a friendly smile.

‘Not particularly,’ he replies, honest.

‘Mine either,’ you admit.

Hoseok wonders what kind of fool would mess up a date with you.

You brief him on the case whilst coffee brews in the staffroom across the way.

Hoseok clicks through the crime scene photos on your desktop as you give him the details.

‘The victim was a waitress at the diner down the street, a college student on summer break. She was found in an alley a few streets down three hours ago. The ME’s doing the post-mortem as we speak, but it looks like blood loss from multiple stab wounds.’

Hoseok’s waiting for you to get to the point, because so far there isn’t anything about this case that necessitates state involvement. Why is he here?

It’s like you can sense his impatience, because you say, ‘It’s the third murder in as many days, all the same MO, all young women in the street, all stabbed to death.’

Bingo.

Hoseok sits up straighter. ‘Three murders in three days?’ he asks, voice betraying his concern.

You nod. ‘Technically the last two were within 18 hours of each other.’

Shit. You haven’t just got a serial killer, you’ve also got an escalating pattern of violence. Hoseok doubts you have enough manpower in your force to deal with this, especially not with the time constraint.

He can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline through his bloodstream, the urgency of the situation finally galvanising him out of his sulky, sex-deprived, hungry funk.

This is where he comes in.

‘I’m going to need to make a few calls,’ he says.

***

Hoseok looks out of the window as you drive, street-lights giving him flashes of the town in between swathes of darkness.

So far, nothing seems to stand out about this place apart from the fact there’s a serial killer in your midst and that you’re the best detective he’s had the pleasure of working with in a while.

And it is a pleasure working with you, you’re smart and thoughtful and you don’t seem to have a chip on your shoulder about working with ‘the asshole from state’ as he’s heard himself charmingly referred to in the past.

You’ve changed out of your slinky dress into standard issue khakis and an oversized jacket, which means he can be less careful about where his eyes land when he’s thinking.

Thank God for small favours.

The first crime scene is still taped off, you look at him apologetically as you lift it for him to duck under.

‘My forensics team are on the way, so it’s good that it’s still taped off, for what it’s worth,’ Hoseok says, reassuring. It’s unlikely anything now will be admissible as evidence, given it’s a public location and he knows as well as anyone that a bit of tape never stopped anyone from going anywhere.

‘At least they’ll be able to spot the crime scene,’ you say, straight-faced.

Hoseok isn’t sure if you’re joking or not but it’s funny so he laughs anyway.

He puts you out of his head as he surveys the crime scene. He’s observant, he knows he reads a crime scene better than most. At first glance, there’s nothing that stands out here, the blood splatter on the walls correlates to the deepest pool of blood, the signs of a struggle fit with what he’d expect.

You tilt your head, secure in the knowledge you’ve not missed anything obvious in your investigation. ‘The next crime scene is half a block away.’

Hoseok falls into step beside you as you lead him to the next location.

He’s thinking, trying to put himself in the killer’s headspace, concentrating so hard it takes him a couple of seconds to realise you’re speaking.

He looks at you blankly.

You hold up your phone. ‘A call’s just come in – a domestic, I need to take it. Jungkook’s on the way but he hasn’t been doing this long.’

Hoseok nods. ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘You sure?’ you ask, but you’re already jogging back in the direction of the car.

Hoseok knows you’re still waiting on the post-mortems on the last two victims, and although it’s not ideal, without a lead, you might as well be answering call-outs.

You’re pulling up to the house, cutting the engine, when a loud crash resonates through the darkness.

Hoseok’s out the car, muscle memory from years of being a cop over-riding his natural instincts, allowing him to run towards the danger instead of away.

He’s in the open door, assessing the tableau in front of him in seconds. A man, grappling with an officer, a woman crouched beside an overturned table. Hoseok’s looking for any signs of children, and he huffs a sigh of relief when he sees none.

You’re already next to the woman, and although you’d been worried about Jungkook, he seems more than capable of bringing the man in.

Jungkook ushers the man into the back of his squad car, and gives Hoseok a suspicious look.

‘Are you the date?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok says, before his brain engages.

‘If you fuck with Y/N, you fuck with all of us,’ Jungkook says, a snarl on his lips.

‘This is Special Agent Jung Hoseok,’ you say, voice exasperated. ‘Stand down, Officer Jeon.’

Hoseok doesn’t have any time to enjoy the flummoxed look on Jungkook’s handsome face because you’re slapping a hand on his back, hard.

‘Am I going to have trouble with you?’ you ask. Your voice is stern, but there’s the slightest twitch to your lips, like you’re suppressing a smile.

‘No, ma’am,’ Hoseok replies immediately, because he’s not a complete idiot.

‘Good. Let’s get back to the crime scene,’ you say.

***

The clock above the steel gurney shows the time as 4am.

Hoseok’s switched from coffee to water because his heart feels like it’s about to burst from fatigue.

You’re leading the discussion with the ME, a serious-looking man who introduced himself as Dr Kim. You’ve been calling him Namjoon, Joon even. It seems like you know each other well.

Hoseok’s wondering how well you know Dr Kim Namjoon. He knows he’s tired because he snorts when you say the contraction of his name again.

‘Joon’ and you look at him curiously.

To cover his lapse, Hoseok reels off the facts he knows, like he’s recapping.

Multiple stab wounds, most probably a right-handed assailant, tall, judging by the angle of the wounds. Probably six foot, like Dr Kim Namjoon himself.

Hoseok files that fact under things that annoy him about ‘Joon.’

As you’re thanking him, ‘Joon’ breaks into a smile, dimples flashing. He glances over Hoseok, as if assessing if he can be trusted to escort his precious Detective Y/N L/N safely at this hour.

Hoseok doesn’t falter as he meets his gaze. He’s not a cocky guy, but he knows two things. He’s a damn good detective and he’s good in a physical fight.

He realises you’re staring at him.

You put your hand on his arm, gentle.

‘Come on, you can crash at mine,’ you say.

Hoseok’s enjoying the feel of your hand on his arm so much he almost doesn’t notice when you say, ‘bye Joonie.’

Almost.

***

Hoseok wakes abruptly to loud banging. It sounds like it’s coming from the hallway, just outside.

Concern for you has him leaping out of bed, pulling the door open, assessing the situation.

He sees Officer Jeon Jungkook outside your bedroom door and takes two steps forward, looking past his large frame to check on you.

You’re standing in the door, and it takes a moment for Hoseok to regroup, because…

Legs.

You’re in an oversized, soft-looking t-shirt that comes to the tops of your thighs, which look so smooth and soft Hoseok’s got the urge to bury his face between them, use them as pillows to rest his head.

He realises you’re looking at him too, remembers that he hasn’t got anything on his top half.

He spends time in the gym, looks after himself, but he knows that’s not why you’re staring.

The scars on his torso tell their own story, one he doesn’t always want to share.

He’d spent three years under deep cover in Kyoto, Joan Kim had been his only contact with the bureau.

He owes her his life, and she owes him a goddamn raise.

Both you and Jeon Jungkook are staring at him, and you look oddly similar.

‘Are you related?’ Hoseok asks, as though it’s relevant.

‘Cousins,’ you say, closing your mouth.

‘There’s been another murder,’ says Jungkook.

‘Fuck,’ you and Hoseok say, at the same time.

***

The officer securing the crime scene looks relieved when Hoseok and you arrive.

‘Forensics are on the way,’ he tells you.

Hoseok nods and you both approach the body.

It’s another woman, dark-haired, lying face down.

That’s not what has Hoseok dropping to his knees beside her though.

There’s a ripple in the blood pooling around her.

You’re a step ahead, hand under her neck.

‘Fuck!’ you swear. ‘She’s got a pulse.’

Hoseok already shouting for an ambulance, helping you turn her over.

He works on her with you until the EMTs arrive.

***

Hoseok scrubs a hand over his face, phone pressed to his ear.

‘What kind of fucking incompetent idiot called it without checking for signs of life?’ Joan asks. Her voice is quiet, terse, chilling.

Hoseok’s seen grown men, seasoned detectives, crumble under Joan’s icy gaze.

He redirects her attention.

‘The medics have stabilised her, they say they can’t give us a time when she’ll be awake and lucid enough to talk,’ he tells her.

‘Any other leads?’ Joan snaps.

She takes Hoseok’s silence, rightly, as her answer.

‘Call in whatever resources you need,’ she says, hanging up on him.

Hoseok heads back to the waiting room, where you’re on the phone.

‘I’ve reassigned him for the moment,’ you say, referring to the officer who’d made the mistake.

‘I’ve been thinking about links between the victims,’ you tell him.

You bring up your laptop, pull up the files. ‘A student, a grocery store cashier, a librarian and a charity worker. There’s a superficial resemblance between them all, they’re similar in colouring, in their twenties. They don’t have anything in common. They didn’t know each other.’

‘What about where the bodies were found?’ Hoseok asks, considering.

‘Public places. Two in alleyways, one in a park, one near the canal.’ You rub your eyes tiredly.

‘Forensics put a rush on scrapings from under our latest victim’s fingernails, so far there’s no DNA match,’ Hoseok reports, checking his phone.

‘It’s a lead,’ you say. ‘He was sloppy with the last victim.’

‘Any leads from boyfriends, families, friends?’ Hoseok asks.

‘They were all single,’ you reply.

Your phone lights up, and Hoseok watches as you turn it over.

You notice his curious look.

‘It’s my date from yesterday. He’s been trying to get in touch,’ you say.

Hoseok frowns. ‘He knows you’re a cop, doesn’t he?’

‘He won’t stop calling,’ you say, absently, rubbing your neck.

You pick up your phone. ‘I’ll just call him and tell him to stop calling me.’

Hoseok watches as you get up and walk out to make your phone call.

He goes over the crime scene reports again, the interview transcripts.

When you get back, you’re frowning.

‘He wants to meet up later,’ you tell him, although he hasn’t asked.

Hoseok shakes his head, irritated on your behalf. ‘Is this what dating is like for women?’

‘I imagine it’s worse for women who don’t carry a gun,’ you say, matter-of-fact.

Hoseok thinks you’ve made a fair point.

***

The state forensics team haven’t uncovered anything new from their investigation. The DNA is still unmatched.

Hoseok’s spent the whole day reading reports, waiting for the doctors to clear the latest victim so he can take a statement.

It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Jungkook’s brought him some spare clothes, muttering something about ‘having the decency to be dressed when you’re a guest in someone else’s house.’

Hoseok had muttered something back about ‘letting yourself into someone’s house without permission’, to which Jungkook had given him a dark look.

You’d mediated by fixing dinner for all three of you.

After dinner, you’d given them both instructions to call you the instant they heard from the hospital, and had left to meet your date.

Jungkook had offered to go with, and it’s the first thing Jungkook’s said all day that Hoseok’s in full agreement with.

You’d rolled your eyes and gone out the door before either of them could stop you.

***

Hoseok’s trying to call you, but your phone keeps going to voicemail.

The fourth victim’s woken up, and she’s lucid enough to talk.

Jungkook glances at him as he signals to turn.

‘She’s not answering,’ Hoseok says.

Jungkook’s surprised. ‘She always answers.’

Hoseok’s got a prickling at the base of his neck.

Jungkook tosses his phone into Hoseok’s lap. ‘Maybe she’s screening your calls,’ he says, petty.

Hoseok gives him an exasperated look but tries using Jungkook’s phone anyway, pointedly ignoring the gym selfie he has as his wallpaper.

The kid’s cut, but that’s got nothing to do with anything right now.

Hoseok tries to keep the smugness out of his voice as he says, ‘No answer.’

‘She’s never not answered a call from me,’ Jungkook says.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at the pout in his voice.

The prickling’s getting stronger.

Jungkook pulls into the hospital car park.

‘Where did she say she was meeting him?’ Hoseok asks.

Jungkook’s back straightens at the note of urgency in Hoseok’s voice.

‘The diner near the park,’ he says.

Hoseok says, patiently, ‘What’s the name of the diner?’

Thinking about it, you fit the description of all the victims.

Down to being single.

Hoseok hopes to hell he’s wrong and it’s just that your phone’s out of battery, but he doesn’t think he is.

***

Hoseok’s out of the car before Jungkook comes to a complete stop. He scans the area, years of training kicking in, adrenaline pumping, heightening his senses.

He’s shouting, ‘Police’ before he even rounds the corner to the alley between the buildings, because he wants to be able to swear in a court of law that he announced himself before kicking the ever-loving shit out of the fucking asshole who’s on top of you.

‘Knife,’ you shout, and Hoseok takes a moment to be really damn glad that you’re alive, and conscious enough to warn him, before he’s disarming the man, shoving his face in the ground, arms behind his back.

Jungkook slaps handcuffs into his palm.

‘Check she’s all right,’ Hoseok grunts.

‘I had him,’ you grumble, before you pass out in Jungkook’s arms.

***

Hoseok props his phone up next to you so he has a reason for looking in your direction if you were to wake up suddenly, but he’s really just looking at your face.

You’re a little banged up, but you’re still the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while.

To be fair, he’s only seen junkies lately because Joan’s been a hard-ass about sending him to investigate meth labs in mountain towns, but still.

You’re beautiful.

Jungkook looks up from the selfie he’s just been taking.

‘Stop staring at her,’ he says.

‘Stop staring at yourself,’ Hoseok counters.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. His phone rings obnoxiously.

Hoseok glares at Jungkook as you stir.

‘Yes, auntie,’ Jungkook says, meek as he answers. ‘She’s fine. She’s in hospital but she can go as soon as she wakes up.’

He listens. ‘Yeah, the state detective is here too.’

Hoseok’s brow furrows, but before he can ask Jungkook to clarify, he realises you’re awake.

You’re looking quizzically at the phone propped on your chest.

Then you smile. ‘I knew I needed to worry about you,’ you say.

***

Hoseok manages to convince Jungkook to go out and bring back breakfast before you wake up the next morning.

He’s lying on his bed in your spare room, staring at the ceiling, thinking of all the paperwork he has to do, when you push the door open.

The bruises on your face are a little darker, but you’re still beautiful.

Hoseok thinks it’s encouraging that you’re just in a t-shirt.

He’s not sure if you’re wearing panties, but with the way you’re straddling him, thighs either side of his torso, he thinks he’s about to find out.

You put a hand on his chest, right over the scar from the stab wound he was dealt in a suburb outside Arashiyama.

Hoseok holds his breath as you trace over the pale furrow in his skin with your finger.

You’re looking at him.

Hoseok steadies you with a hand, and lifts his head to nip at your inner thigh with his teeth.

He curls both hands under your ass and pulls you forward so your core is right where he wants it.

Oh.

You’re not wearing panties, and Hoseok falls a little in love with you right there and then.

Your pussy looks so fucking juicy, right in front of his face.

Hoseok licks up into you, and you cry out his name.

He likes the sound of his name when it falls from your lips, the way you say it breathy, needy.

He kneads your ass as he licks up again. He slides a hand round to flick your clit, and suddenly you’re so wet he can feel it on his cheeks.

You’re not shy about rocking against his face, and Hoseok’s encouraged by how slick you are, how disinhibited your moaning is.

He wonder if he can get you to scream his name.

The thought gets him so hard.

He pinches your inner thigh, bites the softness of it, and you jerk.

Hoseok soothes you with a sloppy kiss over the bite, tongue swirling over the mark he’s made.

‘You’re mean in bed,’ you say, but you sound like you like it.

Hoseok squeezes your ass. ‘Get my dick wet so I can make you scream,’ he says.

You’re turning around, licking your way down his torso to the waistband of his borrowed sweats like a good girl.

You hum with pleasure as you pull his dick out, letting it slap against his abs. You slip a hand into his sweatpants, cupping his balls, and squeeze, so hard he almost yelps.

He definitely likes it.

You tongue the slit of his dick, swirling around his head, teasing.

Hoseok lifts his head to bury his face in your cunt, thumb pressing against your ass, hard.

You’re so wet you’re smeared all over his face now.

Hoseok hisses as you take him in. The angle’s not perfect, but he doesn’t give a fuck because he feels like he’s lodged so far down your throat he can feel you swallowing him down.

You pull back, and turn to look at him, saliva and his precum smeared over your lips, hair falling in your face.

Hoseok wants to see you covered in his cum, spurt it all over your pretty face, all over those tits that he’s neglected thus far but that he can’t wait to see.

‘Let me see you bounce on me,’ he says, voice coming out raspy because he’s so fucking turned on he can barely see.

You slip your t-shirt off, and your tits are as pretty as the rest of you.

You cup your breasts, flicking at your own nipples, and Hoseok already knows that however this ends, he’s going to try his damnedest to get you in bed again, because there are so many ways he needs to fuck you to make his life complete.

Hoseok nearly cums there and then when you hover just over him, and ask him, ‘where do you want to fuck me?’

‘Every fucking where,’ Hoseok replies, honest.

You give him a wicked half-smile and roll a condom over him, and sit down on his dick, which feels hard enough and hot enough that he’s worried he’s going to hurt you.

Your eyes are closed, and you sound like you’re enjoying his dick so fucking much that Hoseok pinches your nipple, hard.

You cry out, then your hips jerk, rocking back and forth and he realises you’re cumming, having an orgasm on his dick that you’ve only just put inside you.

Hoseok doesn’t tend to give a fuck where he is during sex. Top, bottom, upside down, he doesn’t give a shit.

The only reason he grabs your hips and turns you over, underneath him, is that based on how much you seem to be enjoying his dick, he’s pretty sure he can make you cum again.

Hoseok fucks into you, determined, rhythmic, changing his angle in response to your pretty moans, until you’re squeezing so tight around him he knows he’s nearly got you there.

You seem to like when he’s mean.

‘Hey,’ he says, hoarse, so close now he’s about to burst.

Your eyes fly open, and Hoseok pinches your clit, hard.

‘Fuck, Hoseok!’

Your scream as you cum again makes him spill so hard inside you it’s like an out of body experience.

Hoseok buries his face in your neck and floats until the ringing in his ears stops and the white behind his eyelids fades to black again.

***

By the time you both get downstairs, there’s cold coffee and croissants on the table and no sign of Jungkook.

Hoseok wanders in your living room whilst you heat up your coffees.

He rolls his eyes at a prominent portrait of Jungkook, a group photo featuring ‘Joonie’.

He stops dead at a photo of you with two people who look like your parents.

He yanks the frame off the wall and brings it into the kitchen with him.

‘Are these your parents?’ he asks.

You give him a funny look. ‘Yeah.’

‘Joan Kim is your mother?’ he asks, pointing with a shaky hand.

‘Assistant director Joan Kim is your mother?’ he asks again.

At your nod of affirmation, he lands on a dining table chair, feeling like his insides are collapsing.

You’re frowning at him.

‘Fuck me,’ you say, drawn out. ‘You’re Hobi?’

Hoseok feels faint.

‘Am I.’ His voice comes out croaky. ‘Am I going to get in trouble for fucking you in the ass?’

You look like you’re torn between amusement and horror.

‘Does my mother scare you that much?’ you ask.

‘She’s Joan fucking Kim,’ Hoseok splutters.

You shake your head, pitying. ‘Wait until you find out who my father is.’

Hoseok buries his face in his hands.

‘Who is he?’ he asks.

‘Kwon Ha Woon,’ you say, looking worried.

‘Supreme court justice Kwon Ha Woon?’ Hoseok practically shouts.

He gets up. ‘It was nice knowing you, Y/N.’

He makes it two steps out your front door before he’s turning around again.

You’re still sitting at the dining table, sipping your coffee.

There’s the faintest spark of mischief in your eyes when you see him.

‘On second thought,’ Hoseok tells you, pulling you into his arms, ‘I told myself that fucking you would make my life complete.’

‘It’s not the most romantic of propositions,’ you remark, letting him walk you backwards back up the stairs to your bedroom, ‘but I’ll take it.’

‘I’ll show you romance,’ Hoseok growls, pushing you back on the bed, climbing on top of you.

‘I’ll protect you from my parents,’ you promise, eyes bright.

From what Hoseok’s seen of you, he’s pretty sure you can.

You seriously hate two things the most: tedious work and inconsiderate bosses.

Kim Namjoon unfortunately has a talent for checking off both of those boxes.

He’s not technically your boss since he doesn’t sign off on your paychecks, but he might as well be from his attitude. You have long since lost count of all the sleepless nights you have spent in the studio, redoing melodies because the esteemed Producer Kim told you so.

It’s not like you have any room to complain, being the youngest in-house producer. Even the most senior producers have been known to ask Kim Namjoon for help with songs, so it’s only natural you have to do as he says. But still, you’re a young woman! You deserve a life outside of doing and re-doing the same things for hours to meet a perfectionist’s standards.

You take it at face value for a while, thinking you’re only being called to RM’s studio so often because you’re in training. But months go by, and the treatment never lessens. Everyone around you tells you it’s odd that RM is being so picky these days, especially with you. All the staff tell you that Kim Namjoon is one of the most lovely people to work with.

My ass he is. You think, resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room when you get a text from Kim Namjoon on a Friday night. Here you are, laying in bed in your pyjamas, catching up on your favourite show and he has the nerve to text you to come see him!

You take a deep breath and reply to the text. I apologize, but it is quite late right now. I do not believe the company building is open, RM.

An immediate text back. You set your wine glass on the nightstand, irritated that you haven't gotten to take a single sip of it tonight.

We need this track finished for Monday so the team can record it on schedule. The members and I will be busy all weekend with filming, so please drop by my house. It won’t take long. [Address attached].

You sigh loudly. You know the song he's talking about. You know it too well, in fact. It’s the one that Namjoon has been chewing you out over for the past two weeks, constantly making you change and redo things. You admit that his insight is useful for experience, but at this rate, the song won’t have any of your own input!

“Just one day.” You grumble, turning the TV off and beginning to strip down. “Just one day I’d like for this man to not have such control over me.”

🎀🔞🎀

“Come in.” Namjoon tells you curtly when you show up at his door some thirty minutes later, having re-done your makeup and dressed in your work clothes again.

You greet him with a bow, gritting your teeth. It’s already 8 PM, why the hell is he even working this late? You thought world stars would have other hobbies, like hooking up with models or partying or something.

You have known Kim Namjoon for just under a year, but he doesn’t give off the impression that he’s into those sorts of things. Indeed, his lavish loft apartment looks elegant and you see quite a few expensive bottles of alcohol on display, but not enough to make him look like a playboy. It must have something to do with those glasses and baggy sweats, you think, mostly to satisfy your own irritation. Objectively, however, you know damn well that Kim Namjoon is the kind of man that could probably pull just about any woman. But why fuel the man’s ego anymore?

You freeze at the top of the stairs, realizing that Namjoon is heading into his bedroom. You follow hesitantly, a red flag going up in your head when you realize you’re alone with a man in his house at night. Damn you and this job.

You stop in the doorway of the room, looking around nervously. There’s a king sized bed pushed up against the wall, ruffled on one side from where Namjoon must have gotten out of bed this morning. There are two night stands and a few paintings on the walls. On the far side, there’s a desk laden with music equipment.

Namjoon turns back to you, noticing you scanning the room. Something in his expression softens. “I’m bringing half of the equipment to the living room. I just need you to unplug the extension cord and bring it.”

You nod tightly, stepping aside to let him leave the room. You feel his eyes on you even after he has left. You’re not sure if Namjoon knows this, but he has quite an intense gaze sometimes. You have felt it before, when you’re stumbling to correct things while working late or when you confuse two technical terms. You’re a competent woman, but there’s just something about him that makes you feel… pinned down, so to speak.

Stuck in your own thoughts, it’s a few minutes before you remember Namjoon told you to grab the extension cord. “Miss Y/N!” Namjoon’s voice filters up the stairs. “I’m sorry, but can you grab the extra pack of batteries from the top drawer? My mouse is dead.”

You roll your eyes. What am I so nervous for? This man probably has wet dreams about making music rather than women.

You grab the extension cord under the desk and tuck it under your arm, opening the top drawer of Namjoon’s desk for the batteries. You frown when you don’t find any. You check the top drawer on the other side of the desk. Nothing there either.

Not wanting to be scolded again, you turn your eyes to the two night stands. It feels like a big invasion of privacy to check a man’s nightstand, but Namjoon is the one who told you to do it.

You check the nightstand closer to the desk first, finding nothing but old receipts, to-do lists, and scraps of paper with scribbled lyrics on them. As expected. Then, you walk over to the nightstand closer to the door, opening the top drawer.

You gasp when you see what’s inside.

“Miss Y/N? Did you find the batteries?” Namjoon’s voice sounds mildly annoyed now, his footsteps coming up the stairs. Your cheeks are flushed, you’re frozen in place in front of the night stand. Oh, you found the batteries alright. But you found them laying next to two much less normal things: a fuzzy pink pair of handcuffs and a pink collar.

It’s probably for his dog. You tell yourself, knowing damn well that the collar is too big for an animal. You don’t even try to explain the handcuffs to yourself, not wanting to think about what Kim Namjoon needs pink fuzzy handcuffs for.

“Miss Y/N.” Namjoon’s voice comes from right next to you. You yelp, nearly jumping out of your own skin. Namjoon’s hand comes to your shoulder, steadying you. You look up at him with wide eyes, finding him looking down at you with a dark and sultry gaze. He glances at the drawer with the two sex toys, then smirks. “If you found the batteries, let’s go downstairs.”

With that, Namjoon leaves you. You are shocked, unable to even form words. And here you thought Kim Namjoon was the wait-for-marriage write-poetry-about-his-partner kind of man! His smirk from a moment ago haunts you, the satisfaction in his eyes irritating you. You’re not a virgin either, who does he think he’s smirking at!

You snatch the batteries out of the drawer and slam it shut. You admit you’re flustered right now, but you’ll be damned if you let Kim Namjoon think he’s got one over you for this.

So you march your way downstairs, back into the living room.

Namjoon’s eyes flick up from his computer screen when he sees you. You avoid eye contact instantly, your first mistake.

Your second mistake is sitting slightly too far from him for someone who’s supposed to be sharing a screen with him. Namjoon chuckles mockingly. “If someone were to see us, they would think I was the junior, Miss Y/N.”

You fluster, then begrudgingly move closer to him. But since the sofa is a little too soft, you end up closer than you wanted, sitting thigh to thigh with Namjoon. That’s your third mistake.

Then, when Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulder, you fluster. “W-What?” You ask him, voice a little too high.

Namjoon looks down at you through his bangs. “Focus.” He whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

Namjoon passes you the laptop, ordering you to fix all the “errors” you made. You know as well as Namjoon knows that your work is not an “error”, and that everything you have ever shown him has been perfected to the best of your abilities. Two hours pass with you sitting in this position with Namjoon, editing minor things here and there to improve the song. When the clock hits 10, you realize Namjoon is wasting your time -- these are all changes he could have made on his own in half the time.

“If we’re done now, may I leave?” You ask Namjoon, saving the file.

Namjoon arches a brow at your attitude, taking his laptop back. You cross your arms over your chest, listening to the track with him again as he combs it through for any more “errors”.

You perk up when you hear something off in the middle of the song, right around where the chorus is supposed to be. One of the instruments in the back is off time, slightly too fast, messing up the beat drop. You’re embarrassed to have missed something so crucial.

Namjoon gives you that same look from earlier, self-satisfied. “I think you might be tired today, Miss Y/N.” He comments mildly, making your patience snap at last.

“I am. Which is why I will be leaving now. I believe you can handle the rest.” You snap, getting up to leave. Namjoon grabs your wrist, stopping you in your place. You stare down at him where he’s sitting on the sofa. He stares up at you, eyes sultry again.

“I suggest you take that back, Y/N.” Namjoon says softly. You shiver at him saying your name without any honorifics, and he notices, smirking.

“I-I said we’re done.” You say, flushing and breaking eye contact.

“Oh, no.” Namjoon stands, towering over you again. “How could I let you go without getting you something to eat, at least? Should we order in?”

You glance at the clock, noticing it’s ten. It is too late to be having dinner, but you didn’t get to finish the one you made at home due to Namjoon’s call. “I’ll just have a cup of tea. It’s late.” You mumble.

Namjoon beams at you. “Just give me one second.” He says, releasing your hand.

You watch him walk off to the attached kitchen. “What other choice do I have?” You mutter, sinking back down into the sofa.

“Oh, do you mind putting the equipment back in my room? I’ll be up in just a minute.” Namjoon calls from the kitchen, looking all too satisfied with himself. You frown, then begin collecting the equipment in your arms to bring back upstairs.

You don’t have a problem putting the majority of the equipment in its place, since you work with the same equipment all day long. But it’s that pack of batteries that has you flustered again. You know the place you should leave them is back in that drawer, but you don’t want Namjoon to catch you looking at the toys again.

“Whatever.” You say, setting the pack on the desk. You wait for Namjoon to come upstairs, perching on the edge of his desk chair. You play with your hands in your lap, wondering when the hell he is going to stop teasing you about the batteries and let you go home.

The soft sound of the bedroom door closing makes you look up. Namjoon is there, holding a tray with two mugs in it in one hand and the door in the other. He smiles at you, but it makes you feel both cold and hot at the same time.

Namjoon sits on the edge of the bed, putting the tray down beside him. He passes you one, then takes the other. The two of you drink tea in silence, you avoiding his eyes by looking at the desk.

“Thank you for stopping by so late. It was an unexpected situation.” Namjoon breaks the ice. You set down your cup to nod at him. Namjoon smiles, amused. “You’re shyier outside of work, you know? You’re usually really confident.”

“Just tired.” You reply, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Namjoon nods. “You dress the same outside of work though, black slacks and white blouse.”

You glance down at your clothes. “Oh, I just changed back into my work clothes when you called. I wear more colour than this outside of work.”

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest. You notice the way his muscles bulge when he does that, his arms and chest so big and strong.

Since when did I have thoughts like that?! You startle, inhaling a bit of tea. You cough, and a second later you feel Namjoon rubbing your back.

You tense up at his big hand between your shoulder blades.

Namjoon withdraws it a moment later when his phone dings with a notification. You see him smile, then turn the screen off. You realize that must be his girlfriend, the one he keeps those toys in his drawer for.

“By the way…” You approach the subject hesitantly. Namjoon’s full attention returns to you. “Would… Would your girlfriend be okay with me being here?”

Namjoon frowns. “Girlfriend?” You glance over his shoulder, at the nightstand. Namjoon laughs. “Oh, those toys aren’t for anyone specific right now. They’re just a hobby.”

You swallow audibly, and Namjoon’s eyes follow the movement. “I-I see.” You say, although it’s obvious you don’t know anything about it. You know for sure those toys mean something kinky, but you’ve always been more into vanilla sex so you have no idea the implications behind them.

Namjoon watches you for a second, then stands. He grabs the pack of batteries off the desk and walks over to the night stand. You nearly jump out of your skin when he returns with the handcuffs and collar in hand. “You seemed curious, so I’ll explain what they mean.” Namjoon says nonchalantly meanwhile your face is on fire.

“Do you know what BDSM is?” Namjoon asks you. You nod tightly. “These are for that. This collar is for what’s called pet play, which is a type of role play between a dominant and a submissive. The collar symbolizes the power difference between them, but also makes the submissive feel cared for. The handcuffs are just an additional thing for a sub that wants to give more control to their dom.”

You try your hardest to remain serious in this conversation, mostly because Namjoon looks so serious. You guess you should be polite towards a person’s hobbies, even if they’re weird ones. “Seems kind of dangerous.”

You realize quickly that was the wrong thing to say. Namjoon frowns. “It’s not dangerous if it’s done properly. It takes an open conversation about consent and both people’s boundaries. Doms don’t just take and take from subs, they take what subs allow them to take. And if a sub decides that they don’t like it or they don’t feel safe, they have different ways to make it stop immediately.”

You scratch the back of your neck. You have never heard Kim Namjoon talk so passionately about anything except music and maybe a conversation about art you have overheard him have in the hallways here and there. “...Like how?”

Namjoon’s eyes darken. “Different ways. Some subs have a safe word that they use to make an activity stop. Others use the colour system, which tells the dom different things. Green for go, yellow for slow down or stopping a specific activity, and red for stopping everything.”

You eye the collar in Namjoon’s hand again. “I bet you and your partner are probably quite vanilla.” Namjoon comments, noticing your curiosity again.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say, and Namjoon’s grip on the collar tightens.

Namjoon watches you for a long time, his gaze indecipherable. Then, he leans forward. Not sure why, but you scoot forward too, your knees situated between his spread legs.

“Colour?” Namjoon asks you, looking you dead in the eye.

You look down at the collar in between Namjoon’s long, nimble fingers and then back up. “Pink.” You say it like it's obvious. Is this another one of his tests?

Namjoon chuckles and it makes something hot flare up in your stomach. “Cute.” He says, then puts a hand on your knee. “But I’m being serious right now, Y/N.”

What? You’re blank for a moment. Then, you look down at his hand on your knee, and your legs between his. Oh.

“I-I w-want to try, but I don’t want to get hurt.” You admit in a whisper.

Namjoon strokes your knee. “I will never let that happen, but it’s entirely your decision.”

“Namjoon…” You whisper.

Namjoon leans back, setting the toys aside. “It’s okay if you don’t want this. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, baby. Want me to walk you to your car?” He asks softly, so unbelievably kind that your mind goes fuzzy. You can’t believe this is the same man who drives you insane every day.

You soften at the pet name. “Can you walk me through it please?” You ask.

Namjoon cups your face, stroking it with his thumb. “Wanna be good for me, baby? Gonna listen well?” He asks. You lean into his touch, already addicted. “How it’s gonna work is you’re going to call me by a title. Since it’s your first try at this, I’ll let you pick the one you’re most comfortable calling me. You can pick sir, master, or owner. And I’ll call you baby.”

“And since it’s your first try, I won’t do any punishments tonight. Just relax and let me guide you, okay?” You nod, looking at him expectantly.

Namjoon smiles at you, making your heart sing for an unknown reason. “Tell me what each of the colours mean, and then my title.”

“Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop, owner.”

It’s as if a switch has been flipped in Namjoon’s mind when you call him your owner. In your mind, it feels as if a switch has been flipped too. You no longer feel the urge to act up in front of Namjoon, somehow feeling content at letting him do as he likes.

You hiss at the cold faux leather against your skin, feeling Namjoon adjust the clasp behind you. You feel at the collar, finding something dangling at the front. It’s a small piece of metal, something you hadn’t noticed before. As your fingers run over it, you realize there’s a letter engraved in it. N. For Namjoon.

“How does that feel, baby?” Namjoon whispers, one hand still on the clasp.

You whimper. “F-Feels good, owner.”

“Fuck, so obedient.” Namjoon hisses, pulling you in for a kiss.

The kiss is hot and passionate, with Namjoon dominating your mouth. You moan but he swallows it all down, licking into you like he wants to eat you whole. You grip his t-shirt, wanting more.

“O-Owner, want more.” You say breathlessly when you break from the kiss. Instantly, Namjoon is lifting you out of his chair and into his lap. You sit directly over his crotch, thighs on either side of him. Namjoon’s big and strong arms wrap around you, pinning you against his chest as he kisses you deeply.

“Clothes off, now.” Namjoon orders. He watches you fumble with the buttons on your blouse and then throw it off. You get up momentarily to remove your slacks. In one smooth movement, Namjoon pulls you down into the bed, holding you by the waist. “Such a good pet. So obedient.” Namjoon praises you, making hickeys along the tops of your breasts and your collarbone. You whine for him, digging your nails into his back.

“Do you want to try the handcuffs, baby?” Namjoon asks you. You nod, and he curses. You watch him grab a small key from the drawer, unlocking the handcuffs. He takes both of your wrists in his hold over your head and slides them on. “Is it okay? Wiggle your fingers for me.”

You do as he asks, and Namjoon rewards you with a kiss on the cheek. The dom sits up for a moment to take his shirt off, tossing it to another place in the room. You take in the sight of his ripped abdomen and his large biceps, as well as his veiny arms. You want it all so badly.

“Is my pet getting greedy?” Namjoon chuckles, nipping at your neck. You moan.

“N-No, owner!”

“Don’t get mouthy, baby. Sit up.” He orders, and you obey. Namjoon lays back against the pillows, moving his sweatpants and underwear down to reveal his hard erection. You glance up at Namjoon’s firm expression, looking down at you like you’re wasting his time. It feels similar to all those days you have spent in the studio with him, but different in that you don’t want to fight him anymore. Instead, you want to be a good girl for him.

You begin licking at his cock slowly, then ease into taking him in your mouth. Namjoon’s hand tightens in your hair. “That’s it. My good little pet. So fucking good for me.” He compliments you continuously, making your panties wetter by the second.

When you come up for air, his praises have done something to your mind. You need a moment to catch your breath, and also to try to contain the fuzzy feeling in your head. Namjoon notices the glassy look in your eyes and brings you up into his lap again. “Not sure what that is, huh?” He teases you gently.

You shake your head, putting your hands against his chest. “F-Feels soft and good, owner.”

“This is called sub space, baby. Did my praise get you there already?” Namjoon asks, stroking your hair out of your face. You nod. Namjoon chuckles. “You wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Wanted me to stop being so mean to you in the studio and call you a good girl, huh?”

You nod again, burying your head against his chest. “But you were always so good, baby. Always working so hard. That’s why I kept calling you in, wanting you near me.” Namjoon strokes the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your hips. “And now I have you, all wet and needy, on my lap.” He pulls at the waistband of your panties, making you grind down on him.

Namjoon chuckles. “Not much in the way of stamina yet, but I guess I can train you later. For now, tell me what you want.”

You blush, looking down at where you’re sitting on top of him. “W-Want you inside me, owner.”

Namjoon rewards you with a forehead kiss. “Good pet.” He pushes your panties aside with one hand, still stroking your hair. You whimper as he inserts one long finger into you, easily stretching you due to how wet you are. “Fuck, did I get you this wet this fast?” Namjoon asks, withdrawing his finger and slowly re-entering with two.

You shake your head, a little too honest from the sub space. “I was wet for a while, owner.”

Namjoon chuckles. “From when you found the toys?” He asks and you nod. “What were you gonna do, go home and touch yourself after seeing them?”

“N-No!” You lie. Namjoon pushes his fingers in deeper, rubbing at your g-spot. You cry out. “Ahh, yes.”

Once he’s sure you’re ready, Namjoon takes his fingers out and lines up the head of his cock to your entrance. He pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust.

“Relax, baby.” Namjoon hisses at how tight you are, knowing you need more time to take him still. “I’ve got you.”

You adjust slowly until you’re fully seated on him, hands planted on Namjoon’s mons pubis to steady yourself. Seeing how needy you are, Namjoon smirks and hooks a finger under the collar. “Move, pet.” He orders.

You begin riding him as well as you can, desperate for his praise. You grind down on him, desperate to stimulate your clit. “So good baby, almost there.” Namjoon says, his hand on your collar a constant reminder of how much control he has over you, how he owns you for the night.

“Mm, Joon…” You let his real name slip as the climax approaches, but it seems that Namjoon doesn’t notice. He pulls you in closer, noticing how your thighs are trembling. He pins you against him, spreading your ass with his hands and thrusting up into you.

“Rub your clit, baby, I’ll let you.” Namjoon growls in your ear, and you do so immediately.

You come at the same time as Namjoon, coming so hard that you shake and Namjoon has to hold you down as he fills you up. You slump forward into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Was I good?” You ask, wanting praise until the very end.

“Perfect.” Namjoon says, kissing the top of your head. He holds you with one arm and grabs the key off the nightstand. He unlocks your handcuffs first, then unclasps the collar. He takes your hand in both of his, rubbing to relieve any discomfort. He repeats it for the other, too.

“Do you want to shower now?” Namjoon asks, cupping your face. You smile up at him through the haze of sub space and nod. At your consent, Namjoon wraps your legs around his waist and gently lifts you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing small kisses to his neck in satisfaction.

Namjoon turns on the shower and lets you down, stepping in with you. “Joonie, I’m tired.” You admit.

“Just give me ten minutes, babe. Then we’ll sleep, okay?” Namjoon promises, helping you wash up with his own bath supplies. You keep your eyes closed as Namjoon’s hands roam all over your body, gently cleaning you up. Then, he begins to shampoo your hair for you, which makes you sigh.

Once you’re both clean, Namjoon fetches you an extra towel. He gives you a new toothbrush and dries your hair for you while you brush your teeth. Best of all, he gives you his own clothes to wear -- a long t-shirt and a pair of shorts for you to wear to bed.

When you get into his bed again, Namjoon tucks you in against his chest and kisses your head. “Feel good, baby?” He checks on you again. You nod. “Next time we’ll go over the rules more and have a better discussion. Sorry tonight was kind of rushed.”

There it is again, Namjoon’s perfectionist streak. You look up at him, frowning. “Next time?”

Namjoon frowns at you. “Aren’t we dating now?”

You giggle. “All because I found sex toys in your top drawer?”

Namjoon giggles with you, looking at you like you hung the moon for him. “No, I’ve liked you for a while. But I’ll admit the sex toys gave me the courage to finally be honest.”

You kiss him sweetly. “Okay, okay. But take me out for dinner first next time.”

“Should I buy some new toys for the top drawer, too?” Namjoon teases. You smack his chest lightly, making him laugh. “Kidding. Good night baby.”

You smile shyly and tuck yourself in against him more. Namjoon adjusts the duvet around you to keep you cosy. Who knew the scary producer RM could be so sweet? “Good night, baby.”

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Navi (includes SFW and NSFW works)