From: prespark@parkinc.net
To: parkseong@parkinc.net
Subject: Surgery Details
As soon as Seonghwa saw the email in his inbox, sent to the address set up by his father's company, his mood soured completely.
Here it was: the information about the surgery that would change his life forever should he decide to go through with it.
Not only would he have a chance at walking again, but he would also become his father's heir and gain his support and love once more.
What could go wrong?
A lot, apparently.
The surgery was extremely experimental, having only been performed successfully on fifty-three patients.
The others either had little to no change in their state of paralysis or they had died due to surgical complications or pre-existing conditions.
The procedure itself was incredibly invasive and even though Seonghwa didn't understand medical jargon, he winced every time he read the words "spinal intervention" or "nerve reallocation."
It was enough to worry him, even though he often dreamed of such a procedure.
Was it really worth the risk?
What if he still couldn't walk and his father shunned him as planned?
What if he had complications and lost the progress he had made?
What if he died?
Seonghwa slams his laptop shut.
There was a time in his life when he wanted nothing more.
But fate is a funny bitch; he supposes karma is too.
Rolling out of his studio, Seonghwa pauses when he finds Hongjoong in the living room, on a Skype call with Wooyoung.
The nurse is curled up on the couch in his bright red scrubs with a pair of gold circular glasses perched on his nose.
His hair is pulled back only in the front into a small ponytail on top of his head.
Wooyoung is on the screen wearing a breezy white shirt and board shorts.
To see the two of them conversing so freely is an unusual sight; Seonghwa hadn't realized they were that close.
"Park Seonghwa!" comes Wooyoung's voice from the computer speakers as soon as he spots the elder lurking in the background.
"Why didn't you tell me you have a date tonight?"
With a groan, Seonghwa comes over to the couch so his best friend can yell at him properly.
"I was going to mention it."
"When? When it was over?" Wooyoung scoffs before pouting rather cutely.
"You know I love to dress you up nice and pretty! What were you going to do without me?"
Hongjoong is watching the exchange from his place on the couch with amused eyes.
He seems so relaxed just leaning back into the cushions, one converse-clad foot propped up on the other knee.
It irritates Seonghwa.
"I already have something picked out," Seonghwa assures with a wave of his hand.
He tries not to notice the way Hongjoong eyes him at this; he doesn't miss the way the nurse runs his gaze over him slowly before focusing on Wooyoung once more.
Wooyoung's eyes light up.
"Please tell me it's the silky black shirt and those dark-wash skinny jeans," he pleads. "Oh! And the choker! You always look so good in the choker!"
Hongjoong quirks a brow and Seonghwa touches his neck momentarily at the thought.
He hadn't considered the choker, having only worn it on nights where he knew he was going to get fucked roughly, but he does suppose he looks good in it.
"Yeah, that's-"
"And do your makeup please," Wooyoung interrupts, giggling with glee.
"But not before you use my facial oil! That way your complexion is nice and dewy and— Oh, Hongjoong?"
The nurse angles the computer towards him and widens his eyes in anticipation.
The glasses make him look older and more polished, even with his usual quirky choice of styling.
"Yeah?"
"Please help Hyung get ready or else he will end up a tragedy. You said you like fashion, right?" Hongjoong nods, but not before his gaze drifts over to Seonghwa.
"Good! Make him look so good that this guy will have problems thinking rationally when he sees him."
Seonghwa snorts at his friend's eager nature— Wooyoung absolutely loves it when people lust over his friend— but then Hongjoong's deep voice breaks the atmosphere.
"Is this a good idea?" the nurse questions, his gaze moving back to Wooyoung.
Gone is the easy-going mood, replaced by a concern that automatically sets Seonghwa on edge.
Why does everyone insist on treating him like a child?
"Can this guy be trusted with Seonghwa-ssi? What if he needs help?"
Wooyoung laughs again, though it's soft.
He readjusts his phone and leans into the screen.
"Hongjoong, I'm sure that Hyung made sure that his date knows all about him. You said they will be going to Yeosang's restaurant, so no harm there. It's just dinner."
"But it's not," Hongjoong retorts quickly, though he sounds anxious.
He swallows hard and looks over to Seonghwa.
His eyes are wide, panicked almost.
Those red lips are chapped and chewed to shit, probably out of anxiety.
Why exactly the nurse seems so concerned escapes him, however.
"You said you'll be back in the morning, right? Well, who is going to help you with your morning routine?"
Wooyoung makes an awkward noise on the computer and even though Seonghwa can't see all of his friend's face from this angle, he already knows that Wooyoung's eyes have gone wide at the statement.
Seonghwa is not ashamed of his intentions.
"I imagine the guy who just fucked me will have the decency to help me out of his apartment in the morning," he replies coolly.
Hongjoong blinks behind his glasses at this.
Wooyoung gasps, scandalized.
Seonghwa smirks.
"Is this— Is this even worth the risk?" Hongjoong asks through grit teeth.
"I'm just worried. Meeting strangers online can be dangerous and you're just going to go to this guy's apartment so you can sleep with him? Seonghwa-ssi, surely there are better ways to—"
"To what, Hongjoong-ah?" Seonghwa cocks his head, steeling himself for yet another argument with this man.
"Get laid? For everyone else, yeah, there are better ways. For me? No. Do you see me? You think guys just jump at the chance to take me out?"
Sighing heavily, Hongjoong looks over to Wooyoung on the screen and then back at his employer.
"Well, this guy knows what you look like and he still wants to take you out. I'm just thinking that maybe it should end at dinner. Its safer that way. You've only been talking to him for what, a week? Maybe just see how this date goes before you—"
"Who are you? My father?" Seonghwa is positively bristling now.
Where does his nurse get off?
Seonghwa isn't an idiot; he knows what he's doing.
If he could survive his drug-addled, drunken party days, then he can handle dinner and a quick fuck.
"Hyung, please calm down," Wooyoung requests softly.
"As your caretaker, Hongjoong is just concerned, as he has a right to be."
"Right, as my employee, it's your job to worry about me, right?"
Hongjoong grimaces at the tone.
"It's not just that," he argues. "I wouldn't feel comfortable with anyone going on a date like this. It doesn't seem right..."
"Because you've had so much success with dating," Seonghwa bites back, realizing his words only seconds later.
But it's too late.
Hongjoong, usually so soft, so kind-hearted and curious, simply throws the laptop on the couch and then walks off.
Minutes later, a bedroom door slams shut.
Joy scurries after her owner up the small stairwell with a few worried yips.
"Hyung, that was uncalled for." Wooyoung sounds disappointed, exasperated, and Seonghwa doesn't blame him.
He understands.
Rolling over to the couch, Seonghwa picks up the computer.
He looks at his best friend on the screen.
Wooyoung is frowning at him.
He feels bad, he really does, but he's tired of everyone second-guessing every move he makes.
Right now, he just wants to focus on himself for once.
"I'll apologize later, I just— I really need this date."
Wooyoung's face softens and he's reaching out to the screen as if he could comfort his friend through it.
"I know, hyung. I know. You need to get out there again, and if you feel comfortable meeting this guy, then do it. I trust you. Text me his address though and keep me updated. If for a second I don't get a response, then I'm calling the police."
Seonghwa chuckles at this thought.
"What if we're busy fucking?"
"Oh," Wooyoung flushes at this, "then maybe text me letting me know you're about to fuck so I know not to worry?"
"That's so creepy." Seonghwa grimaces and Wooyoung laughs, the sound tinkling through the speakers.
"You're right. Don't do that because then I'll be at dinner with my family just thinking about you getting your ass pounded." He shivers comically at the thought.
"Speaking of that, are you ok? Like, with doing it after so long?"
Seonghwa rolls his eyes and snorts.
"You forget how much of a slut I was before the accident."
"Hyung, really? Do you have to remind me? Some of those stories have me scarred for life," he whines.
"If I recall correctly, some of those stories you really liked." Seonghwa wiggles his eyebrows at this and Wooyoung blushes furiously.
"Go get ready for your date and apologize to poor Hongjoong! I should really pay him extra for your verbal abuse."
"You're so dramatic," Seonghwa complains before ending the call with a grin.
__
"You know she's too good for you, right?"
Hongjoong looks up from his notebook to see a senior classmate leaning against his desk with a smirk.
"What?"
"Don't play dumb, Kim-ssi," the boy snorts, inclining his head towards the gaggle of girls gossiping on the opposite side of the room.
"You asked Seongie on a date, didn't you? You know she only said yes because she pities you. It's a joke to her. She can have anyone she wants."
"T-That's not true," Hongjoong sputters out, caught off-guard by this classmate's bold statements.
"She likes me. We, uh, talk a lot."
It's true.
They talk a lot.
Before school, during breaks, at lunch, and after school as Hongjoong walks her to her house surprisingly not far from his own.
They talk so much that it's begun to feel like they've known each other for their whole lives; they tell each other things that they don't dare admit to anyone else.
Hongjoong is beginning to think he's falling in love.
"Sure she does, kid," the senior boy is taunting. "That's why she also agreed to go on a date with Im Changkyun on Friday."
Feeling his stomach drop, Hongjoong turns around in his seat to glance over at the most popular guy in school, currently surrounded by most of the soccer club and all the fourth-year girls.
He looks like he belongs in a drama, his features strong and sharp, making him appear much more mature.
His eyes are uniquely slanted, the kind of shape that looks alluring without any makeup and Hongjoong has heard many of the girls talk about how excited they get when that gaze is on them.
He's heard hushed conversations and whispered retellings of the sort of things Changkyun likes to do at parties and on dates.
He never dates virgins and if he does, they don't stay that way for long.
Hongjoong swallows hard and looks down at his calloused hands, at his school uniform which has been mended many times by both his mother and grandmother.
His hair is unkempt and he constantly has to fiddle with the glasses perched on his nose because they don't fit quite right.
He looks over to Seongie, sitting on her desk with her legs crossed while giggling with her friends.
She looks so radiant, so effortlessly beautiful with her long lashes and pursed lips.
He wants to kiss those lips every time he drops her off at her house, every time she breaks into a wide grin showcasing her square teeth and pink gums.
Silently, Hongjoong wills her to look over and smile at him, to prove this rude classmate wrong, to prove himself right.
Look at me, look at me, look at me....
Slowly, Seongie lifts her gaze and sweeps over Hongjoong until she's looking across the room over to Changkyun and the senior boy takes note and grins salaciously back at her.
Hongjoong can't look anymore.
He stares down at his desk.
"Look, Kim-ssi, you're a nice guy, but being nice only gets you so far." The classmate claps his shoulder sympathetically.
"Don't worry, though, when she gets bored, I'm sure she will come find you again."
__
There's a knock on the door and Hongjoong wipes at his eyes, smearing the saltwater there.
Joy lifts her little head up from the pillow next to him.
Seonghwa doesn't wait for permission to come in, he simply peers into the doorway and lingers near the threshold.
He sucks in a deep breath.
His face is marred with what Hongjoong now knows is guilt.
"I'm sorry, Hongjoong-ssi. That was rude of me to say."
Shocked, the nurse just sits on his bed, blinking away the remnants of tears.
He never thought he would see the day that Seonghwa would apologize for his behavior, let alone in regards to him.
With a sigh, Seonghwa wheels himself further into the room, causing Joy to jump off the bed to go greet the man.
In another surprising gesture, Seonghwa pats his lap in invitation until Joy jumps up and settles on it with a satisfied squeak.
Hongjoong arches a brow at the sight.
Had Seonghwa done this before?
Why had he never noticed that his employer actually showed affection to his pet?
When Seonghwa looks up at him in expectation, Hongjoong regains his lucidity.
"That was.... really shitty of you to say. I'm not even going to lie, I'm upset."
"I know." Seonghwa admits, still stroking Joy.
His gaze is hollow, cast down to the floor, and Hongjoong wonders if this is hard for him, to admit his faults, to be the bigger person.
"I didn't mean it. You just made me feel cornered with all your questions, but I— I really need to do this. For me."
"Why?" Hongjoong finds himself asking, willing Seonghwa to look him in the eye.
He does.
"I need to know that I'm not... unwanted," his patient admits, face twisting into a grimace at the admission.
"But—"
"Don't," Seonghwa warns.
"Don't tell me that I have Wooyoung, or Jongho, or anyone else. That's not what I mean and you know it." He falls quiet, and then, "you understand exactly what I mean."
Hongjoong does.
Even though he hasn't felt the need to date since he lost Seongie, he has had plenty of lonely nights craving someone next to him, wishing for someone to wake up to, even just once, to feel as if he's complete again.
He often wishes for someone to tell him it's ok, that he's allowed to be happy despite her being gone.
That it's not wrong.
He recognizes the desperation in Seonghwa's eyes, has felt so small compared to others before.
Something within him snaps— something that he hasn't felt since that day he cowered beneath his jeering classmate.
"I do understand. I really do, Seonghwa-ssi, but please don't talk to me like that again."
"I'm sorry. I'll try not to be an asshole when I'm upset."
Joy licks the man's hand in appreciation.
"Ok," Hongjoong breathes out.
His patient watches him with wide, curious eyes.
"Let's get you ready then."
The way Seonghwa blinks repeatedly before giving the nurse a soft smile is worth it.
Seonghwa wasn't lying when he said he had an outfit picked out.
After helping his patient into the shower, Hongjoong lays out the instructed clothing on the bed and gathers the facial products from Wooyoung's room as requested.
"I'm done," he hears Seonghwa yell after fifteen minutes or so and Hongjoong turns off the water and lets the elder wrap his damp arms around his neck.
He lifts Seonghwa up off the shower chair, his hands slick on the back of Seonghwa's slim thighs and he lowers his patient down into his chair before he's dutifully drying him off.
When Seonghwa is properly dry, he begins to wheel the man into the other room to get dressed, but then the nurse's arm is being tugged.
"Not yet," Seonghwa says, nearly breathless, still flushed from the shower. "I need to put lotion on."
Right, his patient is getting ready for a date, which means he probably wants to smell nice.
Of course.
Seonghwa points to a bottle on the counter and Hongjoong brings it over to him.
"I'll need help," the elder admits, cheeks flushing even further.
Hongjoong pauses at the sight, wondering why his patient is still acting so coy.
Seonghwa has been forgiven for his earlier rude comments, so why is his voice so soft?
Was he really that nervous about this date?
Of course he was.
He intends to sleep with this man, to trust a stranger with his care after seeing him in the most intimate way....
Why does this thought bother Hongjoong so much?
Sucking in a breath, the nurse drops to his knees and watches as Seonghwa squeezes a dollop of lotion onto his hands before passing the bottle back.
Seonghwa avoids his gaze and begins to rub the lotion into his arms, neck, and chest, and Hongjoong does as instructed and begins to rub down his patient's legs.
It's strange, how tender and soft Seonghwa is beneath his fingers.
How the raised tissue of the scarring on his legs is smooth and shiny and barely noticeable without tactile sensation.
There are little patches of baby-fine hair on the healthy tissue, but hardly any muscle beneath the taut skin.
"Your skin is soft," Hongjoong finds himself whispering, eyes drifting up to Seonghwa.
The elder is done with the lotion and is watching him.
"Is it? I don't really— I don't really like to touch my legs much."
"You should." The nurse continues with his task, letting his hands glide across the flesh.
"It's still your body. You shouldn't resent it." He immediately freezes, fearing that he has overstepped a boundary, but instead, he looks up to find Seonghwa stone-faced and impassive.
"I wish I could feel that," his patient whispers, so low that Hongjoong isn't sure it was meant to be heard.
He chooses to let it go and finishes rubbing the lotion in.
When he's done, the nurse leans back and clears his throat.
"Do you really trust this guy?"
Seonghwa blinks and then rolls his eyes.
"This again? Do you want me to get upset?"
With a heavy sigh, Hongjoong rises to his feet to place the lotion back on the counter.
He stands there for a minute before shaking his head.
"I just worry about you," he counters, "you barely know this guy and San said—"
"Tell me, what did San say?" Seonghwa quickly interjects.
"Let me guess, he thinks I'm trying to get into shit like I used to? Figures he would think that, nosy fucker—"
Hongjoong can't believe what he's hearing.
He whirls around to find Seonghwa staring at him with contempt, always so defensive even when completely nude.
"He cares about you! He's your friend! How can you talk about him like that?"
"Why do you care?" Seonghwa spits back, shifting in his chair.
"Why do you care who I talk about, who I talk to, what I do? You're just my employee, a fucking nurse! I don't understand why you can't just get that through your head! I don't need your sympathy, I don't need your fucking pity. I just need you to do your damn job."
"I would love to just do my job but you've made that impossible for me!" Hongjoong argues, frustration slipping into his tone.
Why does it feel like the hundredth time they've had this fight?
"You wouldn't let me help you with things, nearly getting yourself killed, and now that we've settled down and found a nice routine, you won't just talk to me. You talk to Jongho. You talk to to Yunho. You even make conversation with Yeosang, but everything I do, you want no part of it! What is it Seonghwa-ssi? Is it my hair? Is it my interests, my hobbies, the way I talk or dress? What on earth did I do for you to look at me and decide that I'm not worthy?"
Seonghwa startles at the words.
His lips purse before they part in confusion.
"Worthy? What do you think I've found you not worthy of?"
"Your attention," Hongjoong breathes out, and suddenly he's back in high school, crying in the middle of the street because his fucking classmate was right— Seongie was going on a date with Changkyun and there was nothing he could do about it.
"It's nothing serious and I figured it was ok since we haven't really talked about this," Seongie had said that day, gesturing between the two of them.
Hongjoong had wondered back then why she couldn't just wait, why she couldn't go on a date with him first, then decide if she wanted to see other people.
Was he not enough?
She didn't talk to him like she talked to everyone else.
She treated him like a kid brother, like a puppy begging her for simple touch.
It was only after several months of pursuit and several other dates with guys that treated her like shit that she finally acknowledged Hongjoong.
He always wondered if she was settling, if she secretly wanted something better every time she looked at him.
"My attention?" Seonghwa seems beyond bewildered at this, and Hongjoong flushes in shame.
That wasn't really the problem with their relationship— miscommunication was— but somehow this sentiment had slipped out instead.
He had merely intended to express that he wished Seonghwa would warm up to him, befriend him.
"It's getting late," Hongjoong blurts out. "We should finish getting you ready."
Neither of them speak as Seonghwa is dressed, his face cleaned and prepped for makeup with various recommendations by Wooyoung.
When his job is done, Hongjoong stands by and watches Seonghwa blow-dry his hair and fluff it out with a small brush.
He watches his usually reserved patient pump out a small amount of foundation on a sponge and dab it on his imperfections and line his eyes with a dark pencil.
Finally, the look is complete with a sheer balm on his lips and a spritz of cologne on his silky black shirt.
The choker around his neck does exactly as Wooyoung specified.
Seonghwa looks good, like the pictures Hongjoong found on the internet, like the man who had the world at his feet and set it on fire.
Even Joy takes notice, waddling into the bedroom to inspect the scene and running up to Seonghwa for petting.
"Do I look ok?" his patient asks, and Hongjoong has to avert his eyes, but he grunts out an affirmation all the same.
Seonghwa is beautiful in a way that Hongjoong has yet to comprehend.
Handsome in the same way that San believed Hongjoong was.
What does this revelation mean?
Hongjoong doesn't want an answer to that yet.
When the nurse brings Seonghwa downstairs to wait for his date, he doesn't miss the way the elder packs his medication for tonight and tomorrow morning.
He doesn't miss the way Seonghwa undoes the first few buttons of his shirt to reveal his lotioned collarbones, the way his eye makeup makes his gaze that much more mesmerizing.
His lips shine with color.
Hongjoong has to excuse himself to the kitchen where he splays his hands on the marble countertop and wonders just why he feels sixteen again, watching his first love walk into her house, knowing that later that night, she would be in the arms of another guy.