[959]
pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: fluff(?), mutual pining, unestablished relationship, medical!au
warnings: mentions of blood/cutting self on accident, vague mentions of "going out"
a/n: yes, i think about doctor!wonwoo a lot actually -
. . . .
This is so embarrassing.
On your last full weekend off this month, you find yourself back at work - and worse! Not as a provider, but a patient!
So much for living your best life this weekend.
"And," Seungkwan drags out the single word as he fans the betadine to dry, "We're done."
He looks up at you and smiles sheepishly. There's a spark in his eye - one that you reminded you of yourself what seemed like many years ago. You peer down at your finger: three simple sutures neatly threaded through your wound and knotted just tight enough.
"How'd I do, Y/N?" Seungkwan asks excitedly, he's almost bouncing on the balls of his feet.
You shoot him a soft smile, flexing your finger at him.
"Oh!" a look of panic flashes over his eyes.
"Not bad, Boo, not bad at all," you compliment, "I'll be good as new by next week."
"Tsk," Seungkwan scolds briskly. He puts the sharp in the red bin and swipes the wrappers off the metal tray. "Take it easy - you know the rules: stitches come out in about a week. I'll put some bacitracin on it and bandage it up for the night, but open and dry while it heals."
"Yes, yes, Dr. Boo," you tease playfully.
"I'm not yet, Y/N!" he chuckles.
"You'll take them out, right?" you point at your finger, ignoring his protests.
"I won't be here next week," Seungkwan replies sadly, "New rotation."
"Ah," you nod.
"I'm sure Soonyoung will though," Seungkwan adds hopefully.
"Yeah, um, I don't know if I trust him."
"What?! Y/N, he's an EM resident."
"Yes, but-"
The glass door to your small room slides open, interrupting your banter. The both of you turn to look who it is and you feel your heart constrict the moment you notice the way the bright light reflects against his round, wire-framed glasses. Wonwoo closes the door behind him and leans on the door handle, looking back and forth between you and Seungkwan before he turns his attention all to you.
Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you tear your gaze away, cheeks and tips of your ears burning. You feel yourself suddenly growing self-conscious in Wonwoo's presence: your eyeliner a little too dark, your lashes coated in too dark of mascara, foundation caked on a little too heavily to hide your dark circles from sleepless nights, your shoulders suddenly feeling the hidden breeze in the ED, and your skirt seems too short.
"Did I interrupt something?" Wonwoo finally asks, his words calm and slow.
Seungkwan's breath hitches in your stead and he shakes his head furiously. You can feel Wonwoo's eyes burning holes through your scalp, but you refuse to look at him in this state.
"I should, um," Seungkwan scratches the back of his head. He grumbles awkwardly, "I'm going to go get the ointment and the bandage."
Wonwoo nods and moves to let him leave, though this causes him to step closer towards you. You scoot on your cot as if it would create a substantial space between you enough to breathe.
The silence only ensues, you quietly willing him away, not ready to face him. Wonwoo seems to get the message, deciding to intervene instead.
"Soonyoung told me what happened," Wonwoo explains. There's a stuffy tone in his voice - like he felt awkward being there. "I . . . just thought I'd come down to check," he inhales sharply, "You know, because . . . I, um, care about you and stuff."
You still don't answer, but, oh, were you cursing Kwon Soonyoung right now.
You can't help but notice, though, out of the corner of your eye, you notice how he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose, proceeding to brush his bangs out of his eyes. He's been growing out his hair, and though you're typically not a big fan of long hair, he didn't look half bad.
Heck, he didn't look half bad - he looks good.
Wonwoo huffs, the black fringes fluffing up in the process. "Are you going to just ignore me like that? I have all night - I'm on call."
Yeah, right, you want to shoot back, like he isn't busy as a cardiology fellow on-call.
You reach for the sheets on the cot and wrapping them around your shoulder, squeezing your eyes and sighing heavily. Instead you tell him, "You didn't need to come down."
"I wanted to," Wonwoo replies sharply.
"I didn't . . . I don't want you to see me like this," you grumble.
You hear him shifting from foot to foot behind you. "Like what?"
You shrug. "Like this."
"And what would that be?" he presses. The clack of his leather shoes on the white tile nears you. You can make out his figure in the spotless reflection.
Oh did he know how to press your buttons and make you squeamish.
Unable to bear it much longer, you threw off your sheets and spin around to face him. You dare to look up at him, pressing your tinted lips into a tight line. Unlike what you were expecting, his eyes only remain trained on yours. He doesn't scan your body up and down, his usual knitted brows and scowl in judgement.
"I'm embarrassed," you whisper, frowning.
This makes him chortle and you let out a small whine.
"Why?" he finally asks when his laughter settles a little.
"I dunno," you fumble with your words like you were a middle schooler in trouble and unsure of your feelings. "I-I . . . we just haven't . . . you haven't seen me like this."
"Like I don't know outside being a resident, you're also a normal young adult who likes to go out?" he states more than he asks.
"Something like that," you mutter. Hopeful to change the topic, you add, "So much for some apple slices before then."
Thankfully, whether you like it or not, Wonwoo knows you a little too well. This is one of the moments he decides not to push you further. He only hums, reaching for your injured finger. Gently, he weaves his own fingers in, lifting them at the knuckles to look at the repaired wound. It sets your body aflame again and you silently slap yourself.
You weren't even holding hands! Why were you so flustered?
"Seungkwan did a nice job," Wonwoo notes.
"He did," you squeak.
"Much better than I could," Wonwoo adds.
"He's still a medical student eager to learn and Soonyoung's grading him - not burnt out farts like us," you joke.
"I meant it as," Wonwoo chuckles, "I specialize the heart - not wounds."
You're not sure why you aren't careful with your words tonight. Maybe you are too comfortable with him too soon, maybe it's the betadine seeping into your wound and into your veins.
But you let it slip accidently.
"Yet, you're blind as a bat when it comes to matters of the heart."
Wonwoo's eyes widen, flickering up to look at you.
"W-what?"
"Um-"
"Okay," the glass door slides open and Seungkwan waddles in, with his arms full of supplies. Soonyoung is not too far behind him - he needs to check the laceration repair before the student patches it up. "We didn't have any two-by-two's so I got some four-by-fours to cut up and . . ."
Seungkwan's voice trails off as he feels Soonyoung's hand on his shoulder, holding him back from proceeding further as the older man sees it before he does.
Seungkwan holds the supplies close to his chest and points at himself, innocently, "Did I interrupt something this time?"
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