Chapter Text
The biting scent of disinfectant almost knocked Hongjoong off his feet.
For anyone else, the citrus air fresheners that were lined along the walls would have been able to cover up the smell well enough for it not to be noticable at all. But for Hongjoong they made it only more apparent in their insufficient attempt at hiding it.
People said that smell was the sense that was associated the closest with memories - at least that’s how his therapist had explained it to him once. Something with the hippocampus if he remembered correctly. He hadn‘t really listened back then. He had been too out of it to listen, as always.
But now the truth of it couldn‘t be more apparent in the way the disinfectant seemed to almost transport him back to a hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, nothing but the biting scent to keep him tethered to the reality that he had long given up on.
If he were to concentrate, he could even feel the ghost of a sharp pain, piercing his wrist.
There was something else mixed into the air though - something coppery, almost heavy, even though Hongjoong rationally knew it should not be possible to smell the blood flowing through thin tubes and tucked away in plastic bags.
Maybe it was his nerves.
Hongjoong longingly looked over his shoulder back to the waiting room where he had been told to sit and fill out the consent forms the woman at the register had given him and that he was now clutching to his chest as if they were a shield.
Maybe he should return them and just leave.
„Kim Hongjoong?“
A deep, calm voice made him snap his head back towards the large room with the disinfectant-citrus-copper-smell.
In front of him stood a young man with blonde hair and a beautiful albeit stoic face. He was dressed in light blue scrubs that no one should be looking as good in as he was. The man seemed to be around his age, maybe younger, with an aura around him that was slightly intimidating.
Hongjoong swallowed and nodded. „That‘s me.“
„Perfect. You are here to donate blood?“
For a second he hesitated, clutching the consent forms closer to his chest, but then nodded.
That‘s what he had decided on. He had to do this.
Give back.
Right there, on the to-do list he had scribbled on a piece of paper the nurses had given to him back then with the task to write out what he would do with his life afterwards.
The big afterwards. The place people like him never reached.
Give back.
This one was still there. One of the last.
„Yes, I am“, he said more firmly than he felt.
The man sent him a smile and the bright lights on the ceiling reflected on his fangs that were a bit too pointy at the ends. The sight almost made Hongjoong take a step back, but he caught himself before doing so. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, given where he was.
No normal blood bank would have allowed him to donate, not with his record, but those run by vampires only put a three year limitation on people like him, which had long passed.
Still, he couldn‘t remember the last time he had actually seen one of them up close. They rarely associated with humans these days and if they did they made sure to not make their presence too known.
„That is great, thank you so much for your decision to do this! My name is Yeosang, I will be here for you today to guide you through everything. We will make this as comfortable as possible for you since you are doing this for the first time.“
The words were routinized and Yeosang probably said them way too often every day, but they still managed to somehow sound sincere.
Hongjoong was aware of the fact that he probably looked like a scared child with the way he was still standing in the doorway of the waiting room.
At least Yeosang‘s smile did not show off his fangs this time.
„You can hand me these and just follow me if you‘re ready“, he said in a calming tone.
It took Hongjoong a moment too long to realize he was referring to the papers clutched to his chest and when he awkwardly handed them over, he saw they were all bent at the edges from his death grip.
As soon as his hands were empty he instinctively pulled down the sleeves of his shirt to cover his arms, even though he knew he would have to expose them any minute. The movement was ingrained too much for him to not do it.
They passed a few beds that were lined along the sides of the room that looked quite comfortable, all equipped with a small table on the side that stored the medical equipment. Some had privacy screens around them from behind which the faint sound of TVs could be heard.
They weren‘t loud enough to disturb anyone, barely seeping through the screens, but in Hongjoong‘s ears the sounds were amplified tenfold, mixing together and creating a ringing in his head as he followed Yeosang with stiff legs.
Just like the disinfectant that smelled much more potent to him than it actually should have.
Maybe he was just sensitive today.
By the time they made it to the bed at the far end, Hongjoong was shaking from the sensations making his head spin.
Yeosang furrowed his brows as he moved for him to lay down. The bed was as comfortable as it had looked but it was only a drop of relief evaporating instantly in the heat that was Hongjoong‘s nerves.
„Are you sure you want to do this? You look a bit nervous.“
He swallowed, his throat dry as the desert.
Was the smell of disinfectant getting stronger?
„No I’m okay. Really.“
Yeosang looked unsure, but nodded, sitting down on the spinning chair next to his bed.
„I will get everything ready for you then. You can roll up your sleeve.“
Hongjoong‘s fingers were stiff as they moved to uncover his arm, a bit uncoordinated as he tried not to look at it. He avoided doing so as much as possible.
„Okay, I will disinfect your arm now. It might be a bit cold - oh.“
Yeosang‘s hand was hovering over Hongjoong‘s ditch, a surprised look on his face. „You’ve donated a lot before then? Were you a regular at another bank?“
Hongjoong came prepared for this question. He knew it was unavoidable. Anyone would wonder about the scars on his arm from where he had pushed a needle into it more times than he could count.
Most people did, so he tended to cover them up.
„I - uhm.“ His voice came out scratchy so he cleared his throat. „Yeah. A while ago. I moved since then. It wasn‘t the best place.“
His lies came out in short and jagged sentences. He wasn‘t even sure if he said them loud enough for Yeosang to hear, the ringing in his head too overbearing, the TVs turning into a storm in his ears, the disinfectant fogging up his mind.
„I can tell. Some of these have scarred over quite a bit.“
There was concern tangible in his voice as he went over the bad ones with the wipe. Hongjoong suppressed a flinch as best as possible.
„I am glad you moved on from them.“
He knew which scars Yeosang was referring to, even without looking. He could draw them up in his sleep if he had to. Most of them had faded since then, but some were still as apparent as the day he got them.
They were the ones where he‘d been sloppy, the ones towards the end, where he hadn‘t cared anymore. Not enough to use a fresh needle every time. Not enough to clean them properly. Not enough to insert them in a way that wouldn‘t hurt like hell.
Everything hurt like hell anyways.
A time when he hadn‘t cared about wounds that he wouldn’t last long enough for them to turn into scars at all.
„I am glad, too”, he whispered, unsure if Yeosang even heard him.
He fastened a band around his upper arm and pulled it tight.
„I will get the needle ready now.“
The needle.
Had it always been this cold in here? Hongjoong couldn‘t help but shudder. The noise of the TVs grew louder and louder and the citrus air fresheners did nothing to cover up the smell of disinfectant.
A hospital bed. Drifting in and out of consciousness. A sharp pain on his wrist. The copper in the air more heavy now.
Yeosang‘s mouth moved, but Hongjoong didn‘t hear anything through the fog in his brain and the ringing of his ears.
„I’m sorry, what did you say?“
„I said you look pale. Is everything alright?“
Hongjoong didn’t answer, his eyes focused on the needle in Yesoang‘s hands. It was different from the ones he had used. Bigger, attached to a tube that led to a bag. But a needle nevertheless.
It was so cold in here.
Yeosang said something into a walkie talkie attached to the collar of his scrubs, but Hongjoong couldn’t hear him, not through the sound of the TVs and the smell of disinfectant and the cold, the freezing cold that made him shudder all over.
Did no one notice how cold it was in here?
For a second the sounds and the smell and the cold became overbearing, so much that Hongjoong‘s mind was close to shutting off, to withdrawing to the comfort that the unconscious would give him.
And then a hand came down on his shoulder, just a barely there touch. And it was as if it drained all the panic from his body.
Tuned the sound of the TVs down to a barely noticeable background noise. Cleaned the air from the stinging of disinfectant to only smell like citrus - no trace of the copper. Spread a comforting warmth from his shoulder through the rest of his body that took away the shivers that had wrecked him.
When he focused his eyes again, Yeosang wasn‘t there anymore and in his place sat someone else, drawing up a privacy screen behind him.
„There, that is better, isn‘t it?“
Hongjoong could only stare in shock for a moment, not knowing how to respond, or how to even blink really.
Because the man in front of him was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen.
Hongjoong did not have to be an expert on vampires to know that the man with the deep, calm voice sitting in the chair next to his bed was one. It did not take a flash of fangs - his presence was enough.
People always said it was easy to spot a vampire since they were much more beautiful than the average human and while Hongjoong had definitely seen that in Yeosang, it became indisputable with the man sitting in front of him.
His skin was pale, but not in an unhealthy way, like Hongjoong‘s skin had been towards the end when he had been more dead than alive - more like expensive porcelain, shining in the light of the room, or maybe even glowing from within.
Pitch black hair was meticulously slicked out of his face, revealing sharp, almost hawk-like features, with a jawline that looked like it could draw blood were he to reach out and touch it.
They were softened though by the deep brown eyes that sat in their center that expressed nothing but concern under his furrowed eyebrows.
The only flaw that could be found on that perfect face were the deep, almost purple shadows under his eyes, as if he had had a rough nights sleep, even though Hongjoong knew vampires didn’t actually require any.
„I- uhm“, Hongjoong tried to say, noting how he had just stared at the man for longer that sociably acceptable.
„Take your time“, he said. „You seemed overwhelmed there.“
„Sorry I - don‘t know what happened. I - Sorry.“
„Do not feel like you have to apologize for anything.“
He took his hand off Hongjoong’s shoulder and it left a tingling sensation there, almost a longing for the touch to return. The hand was soon placed on his inner wrist though, a finger gently pressing into the flesh there, probably to measure his pulse.
„Thank you“, he checked the name tag on his white lab coat, „Dr. Park.“
He shot him a smile, keeping his lips closed while doing so.
„Seonghwa is enough. I don’t know why they put it like this on my tag, I always tell them I am not fond of unnecessary formalities.“
That made Hongjoong smile weakly. There seemed to be a story there.
„Thank you then, Seonghwa.“
The name was unfamiliar on his tongue. He didn‘t know anyone with that name, at least no one his age. And while he did look to be around Hongjoong’s age, with the aura Seonghwa was emitting, it wouldn‘t surprise him were he to be one of the old ones.
People said vampires became more beautiful with age - and he would definitely fit the picture.
“May I ask your name as well?”, the doctor said lowly.
„I‘m Hongjoong”, he said. “Kim Hongjoong.“
Seonghwa sent him a smile that reached his eyes but again did not show off his fangs - Hongjoong wondered if he did it intentionally not to alienate or scare him.
He looked at his watch and released Hongjoong‘s wrist that fell limp in his lap.
„It is a pleasure to meet you, Hongjoong. Your pulse is back to normal, you are only a bit pale still but physically nothing to worry about too much.“
Hongjoong bit his lip to suppress the comment that Seonghwa was the right one to talk about being pale, not knowing if he would appreciate the humor. Maybe it was a good sign he was thinking of jokes again at least.
„You should stay seated for ten more minutes and then you‘re free to go.“
Hongjoong froze for a second.
„Wait - no!“, he protested, making Seonghwa turn back to him from where he had started to pack up the things on the bedside table. He raised an eyebrow.
„I mean - I still want to do it.“
His hands lingered on the equipment. „Are you sure? I feel it is better for you to rest for today.“
Hongjoong violently shook his head. He needed to do this. If he left now, he knew he would never come back and the one thing on his to-do list would forever remain there, never to be crossed out.
Give back.
He had debts and he had never been one to not repay them.
„Please. You said it yourself, I am physically fine.“
The unspoken truth that mentally he was not fine and Seonghwa was probably right in sending him home lingered in the air, with no one speaking it out.
Seonghwa mustered him for a moment. Hongjoong did not know what he saw in his face - was it dedication? Fear? Certainty? Whatever it was, it made him nod slowly and turn back his chair to face Hongjoong.
„Okay. But we will not take much today and you have to promise to tell me whenever you feel any type of discomfort. Are you okay with this?“
Hongjoong nodded.
„I need to hear it from you verbally please.“
The sudden assertion in his voice, albeit gentle, made Hongjoong freeze. He hoped to God he was not blushing. Seonghwa surely would be able to tell in an instant if he was.
„Yes, I am okay with that.“
As Seonghwa prepared the station, an aura of calmness emitted from him even after his touch was long gone, filling the air and even covering the before so disruptive scent of disinfectant.
When Seonghwa saw the scars on his arm, concern flashed on his face for a second. He looked up to Hongjoong’s face as if he was searching in it for an answer. Searching for something.
But the expression went as quickly as it came and maybe Hongjoong had just imagined it. Seonghwa did not ask about the scars like Yeosang had, which Hongjoong was very grateful for.
He flinched slightly as he inserted the needle, but Seonghwa shushed and asked him if he was alright in the most calming tone Hongjoong had ever heard, almost as if he were to comfort a child that had scraped his knee, and Hongjoong physically relaxed.
It was… strange.
He had expected the sensation of the needle to send him into a spiral, just like he had been going towards before with Yeosang.
But Seonghwa’s presence filled out the small crammed space behind the privacy screen and doused him in inexplainable comfort.
They sat in silence for a moment. Hongjoong expected him to get up and leave as soon as he was done setting him up, but he seemed to not be planning on doing so, simply leaning back in his seat and watching the blood flow through the tube and into the bag.
Hongjoong wondered if it took any self control for him to be able to do that.
“You are still feeling well?”
Seonghwa’s voice broke the comfortable silence they had been in for a while.
Hongjoong simply nodded, weirdly self-conscious in the presence of the beautiful man - or rather vampire.
“I am glad then. Though my conscience tells me I really should have sent you home.”
Hongjoong blinked slowly.
“Why didn’t you then?”
He hesitated for a moment.
“This seemed very important to you.”
“It… was.”
Was he able to read his mind after all? He knew the rumors about vampires having special powers like that were just that - rumors.
“I just - I owe this to someone.”
Seonghwa’s face fell at that and Hongjoong was afraid he had said something wrong.
He leaned forward, closer to Hongjoong, a serious expression on his face.
“Hongjoong, I am sorry if any of my kind have made you feel like you owe us blood, just because there is a shortage at the moment. If anyone pressured you into doing this, please let me know who it was and I will have a word with them.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened and he raised his hands to wave it off, but was stopped by the tube stuck in his arm.
“No!”, he scrambled to say. “No, it’s not like that at all. I swear, no one pressured me. This was my own choice.”
Seonghwa’s look remained stern.
“Are you sure?”
How could he put his reasonings into words for him to understand? The reason he was here, the reason he couldn’t leave before he did this?
“I owe this to myself really”, was all he was able to say.
Seonghwa seemed to contemplate it, but he nodded.
“Thank you that you are doing this then. Whatever the reason may be.”
Hongjoong didn’t know what to answer, struck by the genuine appreciation that was seeping through Seonghwa’s words. It told him once again that this was the right thing to do. Especially if there was an apparent shortage he didn’t even know about but wasn’t really surprised by. People rarely had enough concern for vampires to donate blood to them as far as he knew.
“So uhm… do you do this a lot?”, he changed the topic. “Taking the blood? Being a doctor and all? Isn’t this usually the nurses’ job?”
It earned him a low chuckle that he would pay actual money to hear again.
“The whole doctor thing is really more of an inside joke between my staff and me - especially Yeosang. He likes to annoy me with it.”
“So, you are not actually a doctor?”
Seonghwa got up from his chair to inspect the blood bag.
God, he was tall as well.
Good looking, immortal, kind, tall.
Hongjoong was doomed.
“Technically I am. But not a medical one. I just have a lot of medical experience, hence my position. I work mostly as a coordinator and supervisor here. Yeosang still puts the Dr. back on my name tag every time I try and get rid of it.”
The question was burning on Hongjoong’s tongue what kind of doctor Seonghwa was if not a medical one, but he did not get the chance to ask, as he apparently deemed the bag full enough, sitting back down and removing the needle from his arm.
“You are all done”, Seonghwa said. “How do you feel?”
Hongjoong could only look at the spot in his ditch that now had a new puncture added to it that thankfully was soon covered by a white piece of tissue that Seonghwa pressed over it.
His fingers were long and dainty and as gorgeous as the rest of him and they left tingles wherever they brushed Hongjoong’s skin.
“I feel great.”
And it wasn’t a lie. He felt elated. Like he was floating, and he knew it was not only from the blood loss.
When Seonghwa deemed him stable enough to leave, he personally walked him to the door. Hongjoong couldn’t help but think he must have looked very rough if the doctor still felt the need to accompany him.
They passed a busy-looking Yeosang who wished him a safe way home and shot him a fanged smile again - and this time, Hongjoong didn’t flinch upon seeing it.
At the door, Seonghwa thanked him again for his donation - and for a moment, there was this look again on his face.
That look of confusion, almost of recognition. He was sure he hadn’t imagined it this time. But before he could ask about it, Seonghwa gave him a court nod and a last goodbye, before quickly turning his back to him, his lab coat floating behind him as he walked back into the clinic.
✦
When Hongjoong opened the door to his apartment, he wasn’t even surprised to see the lights already on.
“Welcome back!”, a screeching voice greeted him even before he was able to fully step inside and close the door behind him.
Hongjoong sighed.
“Wooyoung, what are you doing in my apartment again?”
He was standing behind Hongjoong’s kitchen island, dressed in black leather pants and a shirt with a deep neckline, pouring something in a glass in front of him. Hongjoong was pretty sure he even had makeup on.
“Hey, you gave San your spare key!”, he shrugged and pointed at said boy who was currently crouched on the sofa on the other side of the room, face hidden behind a book and apparently too deep in his own world to even notice Hongjoong’s arrival. Which was not unusual.
He didn’t have it in him to disturb his peace for now.
Hongjoong set his groceries that he had grabbed on the way home down on the counter.
“Yes. For emergencies.”
“This was an emergency! San was not feeling well because he was in pain, so I let him dye my hair purple to cheer him up.”
And really, Wooyoung’s hair was a bright lilac, different to the black he had last seen it.
Hongjoong would have rather jumped out of the window than actually admit it suited him very well.
“Why couldn’t you do that in your own apartment? Which was literally across the hallway last time I checked?”
“Well, we didn’t wanna stain our bathroom sink purple”, he shrugged, like it was obvious.
Hongjoong let the milk he was in the middle of putting away fall back on the counter and dashed in the direction of the bathroom.
“Did you seriously stain my sink purple?”
Wooyoung laughed. “Relax. I’ll clean it for you tomorrow.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned back to him.
“Now.”
“Chill, I’m headed out in like a minute. I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise.”
Hongjoong went back to the counter and continued putting away the groceries.
“Where are you going anyways, dressed like that?”, he said, eying his… daring outfit.
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Prude. I’m headed to the club.”
“It’s literally 3pm. On a Wednesday.”
“So?”
“Is it that vampire club again you always go to these days?”
Wooyoung knew Hongjoong was skeptical about that habit he had picked up recently, so he didn’t even try and suppress the judging tone in his voice. Not that Hongjoong cared for him or was worried - that was ridiculous. No definitely not.
“Nah, but I’ll go back to that one next weekend if you wanna join for once”, he said jokingly.
Hongjoong didn’t know what went down at these infamous clubs and he was not keen on finding out. As much as Wooyoung begged him, saying he never went out to have fun.
Which was a lie. He had lots of fun.
Totally.
“The one today is that super exclusive one that is open 24/7”, Wooyoung continued. “And right about now is probably the only time you don’t have to queue for like three hours, so I’m trying my luck. And you always say I don’t plan things with any foresight.”
At that he smugly took the glass he had just filled and downed it.
That’s when Hongjoong spotted the bottle of Vodka on the counter.
“Wooyoung”, he hissed. “Are you seriously drinking around him?”
He nodded in San’s direction who was still peacefully hiding behind his book.
“Hyung, chill-”
“No, we’ve been over this”, he whispered. “That’s just pushing him unnecessarily. He is-”
“Oh, don’t come at me with the whole ‘he’s fragile’ thing again”, Wooyoung responded in the same hushed tone. “He has moved on just like you. He is making good decisions. Don’t you have any trust in him?”
Hongjoong opened his mouth in protest and closed it again, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Of course I do. I-”
“Then stop babying him and shielding him from everything. You can’t always protect him.”
Hongjoong frowned and looked over at San, who looked tiny as he was curled in on himself on the sofa.
“I can at least try”, he mumbled, more to himself than to Wooyoung, whose face visibly softened. He walked around the counter and put a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“You know I’m taking care of him.”
Hongjoong avoided his gaze. “Yeah”, he admitted.
Wooyoung nodded and gave him a bright smile.
“Sannie!”, he said louder in a sing-sang tone and walked over to San, who looked up from his book, seemingly slightly disorientated.
“I’ll get going now. But I’ll be back before you go to bed, alright?”
“Promise?”, he asked in a soft tone.
“Promise.”
He gave him a kiss on the forehead that made a smile erupt on San’s face as he told him to have fun.
Truthfully, Hongjoong had hated Woooyung when San had first brought him along - wary of his love for partying, his reckless behaviors, his drinking habits, his blatant disrespect for Hongjoong’s self-claimed authority over him.
San had met him when he had gone back to high school after rehab, both of them the oldest in their class by a couple of years, both trying to get their degree and catch up with their peers, bonding over the alienation and the childhood years lost to being on the wrong path for too long.
Hongjoong had been scared Wooyoung would drag San down with him. He didn’t need a troublemaker in his life.
But the years had passed and all his worries had still not been proven right.
He would almost say Wooyoung was good for San. He gave him what Hongjoong could not, as hard as it was to admit.
San, who always needed people around him to feel secure, whose insomnia prevented him from falling asleep on his own, and when he did, he would have terrible nightmares.
Hongjoong on the other hand, whose paranoia made it impossible for him to get a good night's sleep when someone else was in the room. Who desperately needed to be able to withdraw from everyone for his anxiety to calm down.
It was only natural for San and Wooyoung to move into an apartment of their own, giving Hongjoong the space he needed, and them a place to be together.
Whatever together really meant. They never put a label on whatever it was they had.
But when he looked at them like this, it was clear they were happy with whatever it was.
And most importantly to Hongjoong, Wooyoung always kept his promises. Was always there to help San fall asleep.
After he left, Hongjoong walked up to San, who was still reading his battered version of Gone with the Wind - Hongjoong had lost count of how many times he had seen him read that book. In his other hand, he had an ice pack pressed against his swollen cheek.
“Hey, Sannie”, he announced his presence not to startle him and ruffled his hair.
San looked up and closed his book, putting it aside.
“Oh, hyung, you’re back!” San’s smile made his dimple pop out on the side that was not covered by the ice pack. “Sorry, I was a bit… in my head today.”
Hongjoong just smiled at him encouragingly. San had these days a lot. Sometimes he spaced out for hours. The doctors said it maybe was his brain’s way of dealing with everything that had happened. But he seemed peaceful in these moments, so Hongjoong tried not to rip him of his state.
He sat down next to him on the sofa.
“How was it?”, San asked. “Did you… did you do it?”, he asked tentatively.
Hongjoong nodded and shot him a smile. “Yeah. I finally did.”
San’s dimple deepened even more at that. “I am so proud of you. You can finally cross it off your list. How did it go?”
He decided to leave out the almost-panic attack not to worry San unnecessarily.
“It went great. The doctor was very… nice. Everyone was really.” Hongjoong hoped he wasn’t blushing, thinking back to the charming man who had taken his blood.
“You shouldn’t be so surprised. Woooyung always says they are nicer than we think. Maybe you should really join him when he goes to the club next time.”
San shifted the ice pack a bit and flinched at the movement.
Hongjoong immediately shot up.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”
He frowned. “I’m okay. It’s getting better. Wooyoung took care of me and cooked me some soft food. I just wish I could take pain medication for it.”
The words were like a small dagger in Hongjoong’s chest. He knew it wasn’t too bad - San had just gotten a wisdom tooth removed a couple of days before, nothing severe. But with his history he had been strongly advised to stay away from anything that had any addictive properties at all costs. And that unfortunately included pain medication.
Hongjoong lived by the same principles, keeping himself responsible as much as possible, even if it was just to set a good example for San.
So even though he knew it was for the best, it still hurt to see San in pain.
“I know. It sucks. I wish I could do this for you.”
“You don’t always have to do everything for me.”
“I know”, he sighed.
San looked up at him.
“Oh hyung, by the way, there was a call for you on the house phone earlier. Wooyoung answered it so I don’t know who it was, but maybe you wanna call back.”
Hongjoong frowned, trying to remember who he had given that number to.
When he pressed the button to call back, it only rang once before a female voice greeted him, saying the name of the blood bank Hongjoong had been at earlier.
“Kim. Kim Hongjoong speaking”, he said. “Uhm, there was apparently a missed call for me? Is everything okay? Did I forget to sign anything?"
“Oh no, Mr. Kim, everything is alright! Dr. Park just personally wanted to make sure you had arrived home safely.”
Hongjoong was dumbfounded for a second.
Dr. Park? Seonghwa had called to make sure he was okay? Hongjoong must have looked really rough leaving the clinic for the doctor to be concerned enough to have the receptionist check in on him. Or maybe he did that for everyone.
“Mr. Kim?”, she asked after a moment.
“Oh, sorry!”, he scrambled to say. “Yes. I made it home safe.”
“That is good to hear. Dr. Park sends his greetings.”
Hongjoong stared at the phone in his hand long after he had hung up.
When he went to bed that night, he couldn’t help but wonder who his blood would go to.
Silently he hoped it would be Seonghwa.