Dojae kicked the damn hospital room door open so hard it smacked the stopper and echoed down the hall. He stormed inside with murder in his eyes, gloves half torn off, muttering a nonstop stream of curses that would’ve gotten anyone else written up.

On the bed sat Euntak. Pale. Sweaty. Holding his bleeding arm like an idiot who fell straight out of a safety poster and into real life.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dojae snapped the second he saw him. “What the hell did you do this time?”

Euntak blinked at him with that stupid soft smile that made Dojae want to throw the entire supply cart. “Doctor Dojae. Wow. You look angry. More than usual, I mean.”

“Yeah no shit I’m angry,” Dojae barked as he grabbed the chart and nearly ripped it in half. “You fucking tripped? That’s what this says? You tripped? How the hell do you trip hard enough to split your arm open like this? You fall off a building too?”

Euntak winced as Dojae yanked his arm closer. “It hurts a little.”

“A little,” Dojae repeated, staring at the wound like it personally insulted him. “This is not a little. This is a whole lot of what the fuck happened here.”

Euntak gave a tiny laugh, breathless. “You swear so much when you care.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dojae growled, though his hands were already gentle, cleaning the blood with a focus sharp enough to cut glass. “If you pass out on me I’m slapping you awake. I swear to god.”

“I’m not gonna pass out.”

“You better fucking not. I have enough shit to deal with without babysitting your clumsy ass.”

Euntak watched him, a faint smile lingering. “You’re really worried.”

“I’m really gonna lose my goddamn mind if you keep talking,” Dojae snapped, threading a needle for stitches. “Sit still before I staple your mouth shut too.”

Euntak snorted. “Rude.”

“Good,” Dojae muttered, leaning in to work. “I’d be worried if you suddenly stopped being a dumbfuck.”