mollycoddle
tofuho. pg. 1,807 words.
a nurse. a profession most would laugh at, have laughed at, albeit behind his back ( as if that makes it any better ). his name? choi minho, and yes. he's indulged himself in the world of medics, deciding the one and only profession he'll do is become, as said before, a nurse.
most were surprised, seeing choi minho, soccer athlete extraordinaire, with his silent, masculine aura becoming a nurse of all things. most had expected something much more the opposite, less feminine, to be rather blunt about it.
however there is catch to all of this, as most things do seem to have, this choi minho that they've conjured up in their heads is far from the real choi minho, a soft, shy, and rather hugable guy ( and he's not ashamed to admit it ) but the assumptions had been made, too late to be changed, and so he said nothing, deciding it best to leave things as it is, let them ( meaning girls and boys alike ) fawn over him as they do.
the explanation wouldn't have made the difference.
- - - -
the day he'd met him, it was an accident-literally.
lee jinki. a name entirely unfamiliar to him, until now. a patient, he surmises, brought in with a badly broken leg. reasons for said broken leg seemed to not be explained, he wonders why.
striding in, his brunet hair stylishly framing his face, his light be scrubs just-the-right fit, he sets his eyes and drinks in the sight. a young, dark-haired man, with a smile that lights up the stars and eyes that match heart-warmingly with it. cute, he thinks, lovable. ( something he wishes he could easily resonate )
"hello," he says, smiling with an obviously-practiced polite look across his face.
the other smiles even more, ( apparently it being possible to do so ) and replies the same.
"so," minho starts, "it says here that you've broken your leg? and oh right, i'm your nurse, choi minho."
"yeah, i have," he gestures to his leg sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. again, cute. "and it's nice to meet you." he grins.
"same," minho responds, slightly stoic ( for reasons unbeknownst to him )
- - - -
the diagnosis says this mr. lee jinki will be staying with them for quite the time. a few months, to be slightly exact. strange, definitely strange. it's unusual for most broken-leg patients to stay any longer than a day, a few hours, no less. decidedly, he questions the matter, and the answer surfaces: the man is an apparent, extremely accident-prone klutz. staying here is the safest place for his kind his parents had said, what with their work hours, meaning the man would be left alone, forced to fend for himself ( something that will inevitably be difficult )
and then he hears the fine print, he'll be tending to this patient and none else for the time remaining. the man must be a handful then, if he needs his own personal nurse, there to tend to him at all or any times of the day.
he groans, head falling back ( the office ladies giggle from afar )
- - - -
day one begins, and minho tries his best to endure. deep breaths are taken, and he strides in with another one of those smiles ( the ones that keep the patients happy and the old office ladies fangirling )
"so, is anything you'd like?" he asks, fingers crossed.
jinki thinks about it for a minute, an adorably innocent expression upon his face. he looks up, eyebrows raised, he shakes his head. "nope."
minho cannot stop thinkinghowutterlyadorablecutehugable the man is. it makes him smile, genuinely smile. "alright then, if you need me just-"
"wait."
he stops, turns. "yeah?"
"i wouldn't mind the company though." an embarrassed grin.
his lips quirk lopsidedly at the response. "sure."
- - - -
minho wonders why people are bothered by jinki, he seems perfect in any way he'd dream possible. infectious even, with his light-up-the-sky smile ( it never fails to get him smiling back )
-"hey, could you help me with this," jinki asks, finding difficulty with situating himself just right upon the bed.
minho gets up, muttering a "sure" as his arms find it's way: one around his back and the other under his leg.
and that, is when the noises begin.
the small, insignificant murmurs and groans eliciting from jinki, creating a blushing and bumbling minho ( if he were to talk ). when at last he speaks a "right there, that's perfect" minho flushes greater, sighing with relief as he removes his arms and moves as far away as possible.
"i need to get something," he mumbles, speed-walking out of the room.
he begins to question his sexual orientation.
- - - -
something passes in his mind, a random thought that has him asking, "hey, you never told me, but how'd you break your leg?"
jinki, cross-legged ( well, one leg folded ) upon the bed, looks at him, sighs, runs a hand through his hair ( all making his heart palpitate even faster ) and confesses. "i tripped."
"oh-"
"-and fell down a flight of stairs."
his eyes almost bug out of his head, his hands gripping firmer on the armchair, his body leaning forward. "wait, what? you-what?"
"you heard me," he sighs, falling back. his head hits the pillows with a soft thump. "i tripped and fell down a flight of stairs."
"how?"
"i-" he stammers,"overmyownfeet."
"your feet."
"my feet."
"wow. you really are a klutz, aren't you."
he begins to protest, face stricken with indignation, before he complies. "yeah," he sighs, "i am."
"it's cute, though." he hears himself saying. obviously he's lost his mind.
"yeah, i guess it-wait." jinki turns to him, perturbed. "did you just say-"
"i didn't say anything." he deadpans. "i'll get you some water."
quickly he walks, shaking his head, his thoughts, trying to reorganize and hopefully create a decent fool out of himself.
the topic does not crop up again ( that day )
- - - -
however things do become underlyingly awkward after that. ( a month has passed, for those that'd like to know )
they'd really been friends, he considered them to be, and now he's gone and messed it up. he's not entirely sure how to fix it.
a thought dawns on him at the nick of time. jinki hasn't had even one visitor, a friend, nothing, this entire time. he finds it a good enough excuse reason to talk to him.
"hey, i just realized something," minho says casually, leaning against the bed, vaguely eying the clipboard in his hands. "you haven't had any visitors, ever since the first day you checked in. and those were just your parents."
immediately, jinki's mood turns 180. "i don't have friends." he mutters sickeningly, almost as if he's scolding himself for it.
"yeah you do." minho reflexively responds."me."
jinki grins with all unspoken happiness at the reply.
he's beginning to think he's in love with him.
- - - -
he's in love with him.
and being the never-give-up, always-win ( there is no try in his book, only win ) guy he is, he forges a mission he must complete in the next six weeks that's left: win jinki's heart ( or die trying, which he would do, if given the opportunity (blame it on love, he thinks))
first it begins with light, subtle-yet-not-so-subtle touches.
he sits at the foot of the bed now. ( armchair no more )
he plays with jinki's feet, toes, anything within reach of skin. there is no change in his behavior, sadly.
he opts in pushing a little further, just the slightest.
does it make wonders? oh yes, it does. somewhat.
a blushing, fumbling, absolutely huggable lee jinki is presented to him.
"w-wait, minho, what're you-"
"i'm looking for the remote," minho replies, having 'lost' it behind jinki's mattress.
their faces stand inches apart ( he can feel the stammering beat of his breath, the stuttering thump of his heart )
-until he's had his show. he pulls back, hand slightly accidentally grazing his heck. jinki shudders.
minho quirks his eyebrows. ( and inwardly smirks )
"hey look a remote," jinki sidetracks, snatching the device from his hand.
his eyes stay glued to the tv for the rest of the day.
part one, complete.
- - - -
flirtation, obvious, heavily obvious, flirtation. said to work wonders, though minho will be the judge of that.
( five weeks left and counting ) minho sits comfortable next to jinki, one arm nonchalantly behind his shoulder as they watch some meaningless 'do this and you're bound to lose a pound or two' weight-loss program.
jinki seems to be extremely interested in it.
minho sighs, his plan taking place. he leans his head against jinki's shoulder, snuggling closer, thus catching his attention.
"m-minho? what're you doing?" he stammers, already beet-red.
"nothing," he murmurs, moving closer. "i'm tired."
"oh," jinki deadpans, still nervous. he gulps.
minho chuckles, smirking. "you really are adorable." he's about to go for a kiss, but holds himself back. this already seems to be too much for him. ( minho laughs even more at the thought )
"huh? wait what?" he snaps his head, torso taking an entire turn with it, miraculously causing minho to fall off.
jinki chortles.
"shit," he curses, rubbing the sore spots. ( though the look in jinki's eyes makes it worthwhile )
- - - -
last, he believes comes the talk. because talking is good, a good start to a budding, loving relationship ( he's been reading too many chic magazines )
"hey jinki, i need to tell you something," minho begins, lightly plopping himself on the bed. he raises his head, eyes looking straight into his.
oblivious, jinki says,"sure, about what."
he dives straight in, no warnings. "i like you."
he smiles at him, warm, and he thinks it worked, it really worked. "i like you too."
and then he turns and flips the tv on.
confused, minho cuts, hand out. "wait. i like you."
he gives a slight turn of the head, an acknowledgement, but his eyes stay pasted to the program. "yeah," he nods, "and so do i."
minho deduces that jinki is dense. very dense.
screw chics and their mushy cheesy cliché shit. this is real life. this is a guy. not a girl. what was he thinking.
and so he wings it.
"jinki."
"wha-"
his lips are on his in seconds. they feel soft, warm, addictive at first touch. his hands find their place tangled in his hair, as he continues to kiss him like pieces of puzzle-fitting together almost perfectly.
finally, begrudgingly, he pulls away, ( leaving his hands upon his cheeks )
"oh," he says, blank, "so you like me like me. huh. why didn't you just say so-"
and it's sealed with a kiss, a smile on both their faces just before ends meet.
----
i don't really, entirely like it but hey, this is the best it's gonna get. :))
a nurse. a profession most would laugh at, have laughed at, albeit behind his back ( as if that makes it any better ). his name? choi minho, and yes. he's indulged himself in the world of medics, deciding the one and only profession he'll do is become, as said before, a nurse.
most were surprised, seeing choi minho, soccer athlete extraordinaire, with his silent, masculine aura becoming a nurse of all things. most had expected something much more the opposite, less feminine, to be rather blunt about it.
however there is catch to all of this, as most things do seem to have, this choi minho that they've conjured up in their heads is far from the real choi minho, a soft, shy, and rather hugable guy ( and he's not ashamed to admit it ) but the assumptions had been made, too late to be changed, and so he said nothing, deciding it best to leave things as it is, let them ( meaning girls and boys alike ) fawn over him as they do.
the explanation wouldn't have made the difference.
- - - -
the day he'd met him, it was an accident-literally.
lee jinki. a name entirely unfamiliar to him, until now. a patient, he surmises, brought in with a badly broken leg. reasons for said broken leg seemed to not be explained, he wonders why.
striding in, his brunet hair stylishly framing his face, his light be scrubs just-the-right fit, he sets his eyes and drinks in the sight. a young, dark-haired man, with a smile that lights up the stars and eyes that match heart-warmingly with it. cute, he thinks, lovable. ( something he wishes he could easily resonate )
"hello," he says, smiling with an obviously-practiced polite look across his face.
the other smiles even more, ( apparently it being possible to do so ) and replies the same.
"so," minho starts, "it says here that you've broken your leg? and oh right, i'm your nurse, choi minho."
"yeah, i have," he gestures to his leg sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. again, cute. "and it's nice to meet you." he grins.
"same," minho responds, slightly stoic ( for reasons unbeknownst to him )
- - - -
the diagnosis says this mr. lee jinki will be staying with them for quite the time. a few months, to be slightly exact. strange, definitely strange. it's unusual for most broken-leg patients to stay any longer than a day, a few hours, no less. decidedly, he questions the matter, and the answer surfaces: the man is an apparent, extremely accident-prone klutz. staying here is the safest place for his kind his parents had said, what with their work hours, meaning the man would be left alone, forced to fend for himself ( something that will inevitably be difficult )
and then he hears the fine print, he'll be tending to this patient and none else for the time remaining. the man must be a handful then, if he needs his own personal nurse, there to tend to him at all or any times of the day.
he groans, head falling back ( the office ladies giggle from afar )
- - - -
day one begins, and minho tries his best to endure. deep breaths are taken, and he strides in with another one of those smiles ( the ones that keep the patients happy and the old office ladies fangirling )
"so, is anything you'd like?" he asks, fingers crossed.
jinki thinks about it for a minute, an adorably innocent expression upon his face. he looks up, eyebrows raised, he shakes his head. "nope."
minho cannot stop thinkinghowutterlyadorablecutehugable the man is. it makes him smile, genuinely smile. "alright then, if you need me just-"
"wait."
he stops, turns. "yeah?"
"i wouldn't mind the company though." an embarrassed grin.
his lips quirk lopsidedly at the response. "sure."
- - - -
minho wonders why people are bothered by jinki, he seems perfect in any way he'd dream possible. infectious even, with his light-up-the-sky smile ( it never fails to get him smiling back )
-"hey, could you help me with this," jinki asks, finding difficulty with situating himself just right upon the bed.
minho gets up, muttering a "sure" as his arms find it's way: one around his back and the other under his leg.
and that, is when the noises begin.
the small, insignificant murmurs and groans eliciting from jinki, creating a blushing and bumbling minho ( if he were to talk ). when at last he speaks a "right there, that's perfect" minho flushes greater, sighing with relief as he removes his arms and moves as far away as possible.
"i need to get something," he mumbles, speed-walking out of the room.
he begins to question his sexual orientation.
- - - -
something passes in his mind, a random thought that has him asking, "hey, you never told me, but how'd you break your leg?"
jinki, cross-legged ( well, one leg folded ) upon the bed, looks at him, sighs, runs a hand through his hair ( all making his heart palpitate even faster ) and confesses. "i tripped."
"oh-"
"-and fell down a flight of stairs."
his eyes almost bug out of his head, his hands gripping firmer on the armchair, his body leaning forward. "wait, what? you-what?"
"you heard me," he sighs, falling back. his head hits the pillows with a soft thump. "i tripped and fell down a flight of stairs."
"how?"
"i-" he stammers,"overmyownfeet."
"your feet."
"my feet."
"wow. you really are a klutz, aren't you."
he begins to protest, face stricken with indignation, before he complies. "yeah," he sighs, "i am."
"it's cute, though." he hears himself saying. obviously he's lost his mind.
"yeah, i guess it-wait." jinki turns to him, perturbed. "did you just say-"
"i didn't say anything." he deadpans. "i'll get you some water."
quickly he walks, shaking his head, his thoughts, trying to reorganize and hopefully create a decent fool out of himself.
the topic does not crop up again ( that day )
- - - -
however things do become underlyingly awkward after that. ( a month has passed, for those that'd like to know )
they'd really been friends, he considered them to be, and now he's gone and messed it up. he's not entirely sure how to fix it.
a thought dawns on him at the nick of time. jinki hasn't had even one visitor, a friend, nothing, this entire time. he finds it a good enough excuse reason to talk to him.
"hey, i just realized something," minho says casually, leaning against the bed, vaguely eying the clipboard in his hands. "you haven't had any visitors, ever since the first day you checked in. and those were just your parents."
immediately, jinki's mood turns 180. "i don't have friends." he mutters sickeningly, almost as if he's scolding himself for it.
"yeah you do." minho reflexively responds."me."
jinki grins with all unspoken happiness at the reply.
he's beginning to think he's in love with him.
- - - -
he's in love with him.
and being the never-give-up, always-win ( there is no try in his book, only win ) guy he is, he forges a mission he must complete in the next six weeks that's left: win jinki's heart ( or die trying, which he would do, if given the opportunity (blame it on love, he thinks))
first it begins with light, subtle-yet-not-so-subtle touches.
he sits at the foot of the bed now. ( armchair no more )
he plays with jinki's feet, toes, anything within reach of skin. there is no change in his behavior, sadly.
he opts in pushing a little further, just the slightest.
does it make wonders? oh yes, it does. somewhat.
a blushing, fumbling, absolutely huggable lee jinki is presented to him.
"w-wait, minho, what're you-"
"i'm looking for the remote," minho replies, having 'lost' it behind jinki's mattress.
their faces stand inches apart ( he can feel the stammering beat of his breath, the stuttering thump of his heart )
-until he's had his show. he pulls back, hand slightly accidentally grazing his heck. jinki shudders.
minho quirks his eyebrows. ( and inwardly smirks )
"hey look a remote," jinki sidetracks, snatching the device from his hand.
his eyes stay glued to the tv for the rest of the day.
part one, complete.
- - - -
flirtation, obvious, heavily obvious, flirtation. said to work wonders, though minho will be the judge of that.
( five weeks left and counting ) minho sits comfortable next to jinki, one arm nonchalantly behind his shoulder as they watch some meaningless 'do this and you're bound to lose a pound or two' weight-loss program.
jinki seems to be extremely interested in it.
minho sighs, his plan taking place. he leans his head against jinki's shoulder, snuggling closer, thus catching his attention.
"m-minho? what're you doing?" he stammers, already beet-red.
"nothing," he murmurs, moving closer. "i'm tired."
"oh," jinki deadpans, still nervous. he gulps.
minho chuckles, smirking. "you really are adorable." he's about to go for a kiss, but holds himself back. this already seems to be too much for him. ( minho laughs even more at the thought )
"huh? wait what?" he snaps his head, torso taking an entire turn with it, miraculously causing minho to fall off.
jinki chortles.
"shit," he curses, rubbing the sore spots. ( though the look in jinki's eyes makes it worthwhile )
- - - -
last, he believes comes the talk. because talking is good, a good start to a budding, loving relationship ( he's been reading too many chic magazines )
"hey jinki, i need to tell you something," minho begins, lightly plopping himself on the bed. he raises his head, eyes looking straight into his.
oblivious, jinki says,"sure, about what."
he dives straight in, no warnings. "i like you."
he smiles at him, warm, and he thinks it worked, it really worked. "i like you too."
and then he turns and flips the tv on.
confused, minho cuts, hand out. "wait. i like you."
he gives a slight turn of the head, an acknowledgement, but his eyes stay pasted to the program. "yeah," he nods, "and so do i."
minho deduces that jinki is dense. very dense.
screw chics and their mushy cheesy cliché shit. this is real life. this is a guy. not a girl. what was he thinking.
and so he wings it.
"jinki."
"wha-"
his lips are on his in seconds. they feel soft, warm, addictive at first touch. his hands find their place tangled in his hair, as he continues to kiss him like pieces of puzzle-fitting together almost perfectly.
finally, begrudgingly, he pulls away, ( leaving his hands upon his cheeks )
"oh," he says, blank, "so you like me like me. huh. why didn't you just say so-"
and it's sealed with a kiss, a smile on both their faces just before ends meet.
----
i don't really, entirely like it but hey, this is the best it's gonna get. :))