Foreward thinking

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/50409259.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M, Multi
Fandom: Stray Kids (Band)
Relationship: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Character: Stray Kids Ensemble
Additional Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Violence, Eventual Smut, Han Jisung
| Han is a Mess, Protective Lee Minho | Lee Know, Protective Bang
Chan (Stray Kids), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read,
Lee Minho | Lee Know & Yang Jeongin | I.N are Siblings, Doctor Lee
Minho | Lee Know, CEO Bang Chan (Stray Kids), Angst, Fluff and
Humor, Attempt at Humor, Anxiety, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-09-29 Updated: 2023-10-03 Words: 10,080 Chapters:
6/?

Foreward thinking
by Milkandhoney0321

Summary

After a rough year of couch hopping and unexpected events Han has the unfortunate
privilege of getting shot in the leg. Luckily the universe had pity on him and he is found by
the man of his dreams... who also happens to be a doctor.
or
Han overcoming his past while trying to carve a path for his future while juggling the mess
that is his feelings.

Notes

This is my first story on here.

If it sucks I don't wanna hear about it.
Good luck with this mess of a fic. ;)

There is description of feelings related to shock.

Minor mentions of bl**d

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1

Chapter 1
The pain was blinding, radiating outward from his thigh and searing every nerve in his right leg.
It’s the most intense thing he’s ever felt in his life, he didn’t know what made him dizzier the pain
or the blood loss. Fuck. Was he going to die like this? Shot by some random person in an alleyway
for money that he didn't even have. He was probably just as broke as his assailant, he didn’t even
have a place to live, he’d been couch surfing for the last year and a half. He didn’t know why this
person went after him, he looked like a slob at the moment. He’d just gotten off from his shift at
the bakery, It was freezing, and he had vastly underdressed for the weather donned in only a black
T-shirt and joggers. His clothes were a mess and his hair was oily from the heat and the grease
filled air. He of course doesn’t have a car so he was left to bear the night on his own.
He had been staying with his friend Chan, he’d been there for the last 6 months, it’s the longest
place he’s stayed and Chan basically told him he had to stay until he was back on his feet. Not
taking no or his awkward stuttering excuses for an answer. Chans’ a good guy, they met in high
school in the “music production club”. He instantly hit it off with Chan, and Chan's best friend
Changbin. They started their own little group and posted their projects online, they didn’t take off
or anything, but it was fun.
He’d gotten kicked out of his house after his parents found out he was gay, he didn’t tell anyone.
He stayed with a couple “friends” but he always left after a few weeks for one reason or another.
He couldn’t bear to tell Chan of Changbin what had happened. He wasn’t afraid of rejection or
ridicule, he knew they weren’t those kinds of people, they weren’t like his parents. He was afraid
of the pity, of the coddling he’s sure he’d receive. He didn’t want that, at least not at the time. He
felt like he had to wallow in his pain, to marinate in his feelings of rejection and inadequacy. Part
of him, a small part of him, just for a moment, felt guilty. Like his parents were right about how he
was disgusting, that he was a sinner, but that wasn’t right. He is who he is and there’s nothing
wrong with that.
Chan found out about his living situation after an…incident with his last host. He called Chan and
he’s been staying with him ever since. He didn’t want to involve Chan, but he was too afraid of
what might happen if he didn’t get out of that place, and he had nowhere else to go. Saying Chan
was angry would be an understatement, not at him but at his circumstances. Sure he was
disappointed that he hadn’t come to him from the beginning, but he understood. He was just about
ready to kill his former host, that was pure unbridled anger.
He couldn’t die here, Chan would kill him. That man would find a way to bring him back and
wring his neck himself. He always insisted on Han borrowing the car, but Chan happened to have
plans last night. He told him he’d find another ride home, of course he was planning to just walk
home from the beginning but who would’ve thought a little white lie like that would come back
and bite him in the ass this bad. It’s about 2am, he’s probably home by now which would be great
if he had anyway to contact the man. His phone died like an hour ago, and there’s no way he can
walk home like this. He was going to die in the streets all because he didn’t want to bother his
coworker and ask for a ride him.
He was holding pressure over his thigh to try and stop the bleeding but he felt himself losing
consciousness. His cries for help sounded loud in the eerie silence of the night, but he would be
surprised if anyone was around to hear them. He felt cold. Scared. Detached. Calm. The calmness
scared him the most. How could he feel so calm in such a terrifying and possibly fatal situation.
The fear was just a lingering feeling in the back of his mind. A dull ache encompassed by a
numbing tsunami of peace. He figured it was a bad sign that the fear dissipated so quickly. That his
brain was being flooded with endorphins and happy hormones, and he knew what that meant. He
was vaguely aware that he was probably in shock, but knowing doesn’t mean shit if there's nothing
he could do about it.
He felt himself starting to slip and just as he began to let himself fall into the feeling he was
roughly pulled back into the present.
There were hands on him in an instant. He felt something get wrapped around his upper thigh, it
was tight and he heard himself groan at the feeling. It was weird to hear yourself make noises
without conscious effort. He sounded foreign to himself as groans and whimpers of pain were
pulled from his lips. He saw two fuzzy figures in front of him, he was vaguely aware that someone
was talking to him but he’d be damned if he knew about what. The last thing he heard before he
lost consciousness came through clear as day. He’s not sure why, maybe it was the silky tone of
his voice, or maybe it was just some weird brain thing he didn’t know about. Either way it pulled a
chuckle from his blood loss addled mind.
“Well this is gonna be fucking annoying.”
What an understatement.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

We meet some new people.

Chapter Notes

There are some aspects that could be disturbing to some.

Not super explicit descriptions of non/con/r*pe elements but enough that I thought I
should put a warning.

His head was throbbing. Everything sounded like it was underwater. His whole body ached with an
intensity he’d never experienced before. He felt so weak he literally didn’t think he could lift a
finger. Was he even alive? He figured since he was in pain the most likely answer was “yes”, but
who was he to presume the in’s and out’s of the afterlife. He tried his best to open his eyes but it
felt like they were glued shut. Fuck maybe he really was dead. Maybe he was embalmed and his
spirit was trapped in his lifeless body. Was he going to be buried dead alive?!
“I’m sorry, who the hell just picks up random people they found shot on the street?! Why didn’t
you take him to a fucking hospital! He could’ve died!” The man's voice was shrill with distress.
Well I guess that answers that question.
“He would’ve died if we didn’t bring him here. He wouldn’t have made it to the hospital in time
and the clinic was just around the corner. It made more sense to just bring him here than risk
waiting for an ambulance." He knew this voice, he’s heard it before. Coating his worries in honey
and calming his nerves. Something about this man's voice was so captivating, he almost felt
embarrassed about the pull it seemed to have on him. Almost.
“What if he's some sort of Ruffian!” the shrill voice replied
“Who the hell even says “ruffian”, what are you, 80?” This was another new voice, he spoke
monotonously, sounding almost bored.
“Do you really think this guy is some sort of criminal? I mean dude looks like a hamster. That face
isn’t gonna intimidate anyone.” The smooth voice was back, a teasing lilt to it that was so enticing
he couldn’t be annoyed about the fact he’d just been compared to a rodent.
“If you're so paranoid just check his phone or something, see if anything looks fishy.” At the
mention of his phone he felt a surge of adrenaline course through his body. Chan.
He shot up with a groan and instantly regretted every decision he’d ever made that led him to this
point.
“Fuck!” he felt dizzy and like his mind was covered in a thick fog. A searing pain shot through his
leg once again, it was dulled compared to before but painful nonetheless. “What time is it? Tell me
it’s not morning, because if it’s morning I'm going to be in so much trouble. God I should’ve just
asked for a ride, but like who even shoots someone, ya know? That’s like not something people
should be doing, cause that shit fucking hurts! I didn’t even do anything, I just existed and bro said
‘nah’! And I’m sorry, do I look like I have money to you? Actually, they really didn’t try very hard
to take my things? They just shot me! WHo the fuck just walks up and shoots someone in the
fucking leg! I make muffins for fucks sake! And holy shit what did you give me cause i’m
definitely high right now!” He was heavy by the time his impromptu monologue was over and he
was met with several pairs of wide eyes staring at him.
“Yeah definitely a ruffian Jinnie, did you hear all that? He’s a certified hardened criminal. Muffins
are fucking terrifying.” His head shot towards the owner of the smooth voice and he felt like he got
shot again.
The man was beautiful. Soft brown hair framed his large catlike eyes, and high cheekbones. His
nose was straight and high and his lips looked so soft with his plush upper lip. He wanted to gnaw
on it. Fuck, he definitely high.
“I’m not a ruffian or whatever the fuck, I work in a stupid little bakery. But that’s not the issue
here, what time is it?” he slurred out.
The three men looked at each other and then back to him, seeming confused by his odd statement.
“3pm, you’ve been out for quite a while, honestly I’m surprised you’re up right now.” The bored
one spoke this time, he was tall and thin, he had a boyish charm about him between his dark hair
that covered his forehead and the impish grin he wore.
“3p- fuck! I need a phone like 12 hours ago, Chan is going to fucking kill me!”
“You curse a lot, that seems like ruffian behavior. Not to mention saying some rando is going to
kill you is red flag behavior. I stand by my original assumption that this man is a criminal.” ‘jinnie’
as he was previously referred to as spoke this time. Man was gorgeous, he wouldn’t be surprised if
the guy was a model. Long black haired pulled into a half pony, and a mixture of soft and sharp
features that your eyes were drawn to like a magnet. Too bad he seemed like an Idiot.
“I don’t know who Chan is but here.” the dandy looking boy said as he handed him a phone.
He immediately started to dial Chan's number and call. He knew Chan would not be happy with
him, he had to brace himself for what he knew was going to be the admonishment of a lifetime.
How the hell was he supposed to explain that he got shot and some strangers took him in and now
he’s high in some hot guy's living room.
“Hello?” Chan soft voice came through the receiver
“Uh, hey, It’s me I-” he was interrupted by a now very clearly irritated voice.
“Han jisung where the fuck are you.” he said in a eerily calm manner. Oh no.
“So about that, I uh, you know how you told me to get a ride home from Soli? Yeah, I didn’t do
that, and I sortakindagotshotintheleg.” he ushered out the end of his sentence and hoped Chan
would just gloss over it but he knew that was naive optimism.
“ I’m sorry, what was that?” his voice held the same repose and a deep timbre that sent a chill
down his spine.
“I-”
“Where are you?” another shiver radiated through his body. He was dead.
He looked up wide eyed at his unknown companions to see their eyes locked on him. Clearly able
to hear his conversation. The dany one looked bored, ‘jinny’ looked scared, and the cat-like man
was watching him with thinly veiled amusement.
“Uh… where am I?” he asked meekly and he heard an exasperated laugh come from the other end
of his phone call.
The cat-like man smirked and held his hand out asking for the phone. He handed it over obediently
and watched as the man put the phone up to his ear and left the room. He was pretty clueless at the
moment and he figured his savior could probably provide better details of what happened. That and
he was shitting himself at the thought of having to keep hearing Chans scary ass voice right now.
“Well Mr ’Han Jisung’ I guess we should probably introduce ourselves no?” The dandy boy spoke
again “I’m Seungmin, the dramatic one over there is Hyunjin, and the man talking to your friend is
Minho. He and I are the ones who brought you here.”
“It’s uh, nice to meet you I guess. And thanks for saving me and stuff.”
“Yeah sure, no problem. What kind of muffins do you make though?” Seungmin asked, his eyes
lighting up at the mentioning of muffins.
“Oh uh, I don’t actually make the muffins. I don't know why I said that. I’m not allowed to bake
shit, I almost burnt the kitchen down like 5 too many times. The bakery sells all sorts of muffins
though. I’m partial to the cranberry orange myself but I know felix prefers the chocolate chocolate
ones.” he rambled on for a while about different muffin flavors and other pastries sold out of his
workplace. Seungmin nodded and hummed along, asking questions every once in a while about
something or another. Mostly about muffins.
“You guys have been talking about muffins for like 15 minutes, please talk about anything else I’m
begging you!” Hyunjin whined after an admittedly way too long tangent on muffins. God he really
wanted a muffin right now.
“My bad, I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Also I’m pretty sure I”m like violently high on pain killers,
what the fuck did you give me.”
“Your friends will be here soon, lucky you live so close to the clinic. I explained to them what
happened.” the man of his dreams aka Minho was back, he wasn’t sure when he re-entered the
room but it couldn’t have been that long ago. “Nice guys by the way, they think you're a total idiot
and we might all become accessories to murder when they get here but nice nonetheless.” he
snickered.
He couldn’t help but groan at the thought of getting chewed out by an angry and disappointed
Chan. Wait, friends?
“Wha-”
“Han Jisung you’re a fucking Idiot!” Shit.
“Binnie chill~, he literally got shot, we can insult him later after we're sure he’s okay.” Well at
least Felix is here to keep the peace.
He looked over to the door to see Felix and Changbin bickering on their walk over.
Chan trailed behind them silently. He thinks that was the scariest part of this whole thing.
He’s only seen Chan like this 2 times in his life. The first time was when Chan found out his
parents had died in a hit and run. Some asshole sped through a crosswalk at 9am and that was it. A
wholly avoidable and senseless tragedy. He was so angry at the world, steely and cold. He decided
to try and shut out the whole world, build walls so high that even he himself struggled to feel
anything at all. He was a mess, but who wouldn’t be after losing their parents at 15. He sat in the
back of the room in silence at their funeral. It broke his heart.
The second time was the day Han came to live with him. He didn’t particularly like thinking about
that day, but the memories flooded his mind at the deathly glare on his face. Han knew Chan
wasn’t mad at him, that he was angry at whoever had shot his best friend. But even knowing didn’t
make the erratic beat of his heart slow.
During his couch surfing Journey Han ended up on a friend of a friend's couch at a particularly low
point. He wasn’t really in a place to be choosy though so he graciously accepted the offer. June
seemed nice enough, she was a few years older than him, charismatic and smart. She didn’t know
why he needed a place to stay but she graciously offered him her spare room. She was the type of
person you wouldn’t hear a bad word about. He stayed with her the longest apart from Chan, a
total of 3 months. She insisted he didn’t have to pay rent, and scolded him to save as much as he
could until he was stable on his own. She was an all around kind woman. Hindsight is however
2020.
He didn’t pay much mind to it at first. The overly touchy behavior, she was like that with everyone
after all. What was odd was the way her touch used to linger a bit too long for his liking. The way
it felt a tad too intimate when her hand would land precariously on his bicep or thigh. The look
she’d get in her eyes when her gaze traveled across his features and body. It felt almost predatory.
But then again, they were friends, he must be wrong.
The second red flag was the way she reacted when she found out he was gay. She wasn’t rude, she
wasn’t disrespectful, she didn’t say anything homophobic, it was just her expression. The look on
her face was…wrong. There was no other way to put it, it was like something shifted. A crack in
her otherwise perfect persona. Her smile didn’t seem quite right, her words of acceptance seemed
to just miss the mark of sincere. Just Wrong.
Things changed after that. She got even touchier, and would comment on how “nice” it was that
she could touch him like this without it being weird. She would make more sexual jokes around
him, sometimes coupled with a rather risky hand placement, all the while citing it was fine since
he’s gay. It was uncomfortable, yes, but he was so convinced she didn’t mean anything by it he just
kept his mouth shut. She just liked having a close male friend, it’s all platonic. She’s been so nice.
Why would this be anything bad? It’s June after all, she’s his friend.
It was the sleep issues that finally clued him in. He found himself getting tired much earlier than he
used to. No. Tired isn’t quite right. Exhausted more like it, sometimes he’d barely make it into bed
before he passed out. He didn’t even feel well rested when he woke up in the morning. He felt
sluggish and dazed. He even started to miss work because he couldn’t get up in the morning. He
got fired, but June told him it was fine, that he didn’t have to worry about it. She said she wouldn’t
kick him out, she told him to take this time for himself. But it once again felt wrong, but this time it
felt dangerous. There was a voice in the back of his mind telling him he needed to go. That he
wasn’t safe. Something was going on, this isn’t normal, but despite his instincts screaming at him,
he stayed. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, and June was nice. He had to be wrong. He was just
tired because he’s depressed. He’ll get out of this little funk he’s in and everything will go back to
normal. It had to be that, right?
Then it happened. He woke up in the middle of the night to a strange pressure on his chest. His
eyes opened a crack to see her hands placed on his chest gripping his shirt like a vice. Her hips
rolling against his own, whimpers falling from his sleep addled lips. Why was he making those
noises? Why was his body reacting to this? He hated this, so why? Why is it like this? He couldn’t
move, he wanted to fight back. He wanted to push her off of him and scream, but his body
wouldn’t listen. So he was stuck there, left to endure the assault on his body and mind.
She spoke to him all the while, even without knowing he was awake she spoke to him.
This is for your own good.
I’m doing this to help you.
I’ll always be here for you.
I’m going to fix you.
I know you’ve wanted this.
You’re always so responsive
I know you love this
I know you love me.
He thinks he’s heard these words before.
He passed out again at some point, he almost thought it was a dream. It had to have been, there's
no way that just… there’s no way she… but it did, and she did and there were no more excuses left
on his tongue.
There was too much proof. Proof on his body he didn’t want to think about. Proof in the visions
that would haunt him in his dreams. Proof in the memories that would keep him up at night. Proof
in the form of his stilted tongue every time a woman got too close. Proof in the way that the smell
of roses and vanilla would cause him violent waves of nausea. Too much proof.
He called Chan that morning. He didn’t go into too much detail at the time. Just explained that he
needed his help moving his stuff out of a “friend's” home, and if could stay with chan for a bit. Of
course Chan showed up with no questions asked and took him in. He seemed to sense something
was off but he didn’t push the issue. He held it together pretty well too. But then Chan squeezed
his arm, and he would be there if he needed anything. That he’d always be there for him. That's
when he broke. He told him everything, all of it, from the very beginning. He couldn’t look at his
face when he spoke. He just spoke and spoke until he ran out of words to say. When he finally
looked up Chan had that look on his face. So cold and detached. He just pulled Han into his chest
and let him sob until he fell asleep in his arms.
He woke up alone. When Chan came home the only thing he said was that he didn’t have to worry
about her anymore, and that he was to stay here until he was stable enough to afford his own place.
There was no room for discussion.
He never heard from or about June again.
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Mentions of bl**d and gun violence.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he felt a weight plop down next to him. He
looked over and was surprised to see a pair of cat-like eyes staring back into his own. Minho.
“Breathing is kind of important you know? It’s bad for your health to like, not do it. Trust me, I’m
a Doctor.” He winked at him, and all Han could do was stare back dumbly.
“I-I’ll keep that in mind,” he stuttered back and his voice cracked. Minho snorted. Smooth.
“So Hannie boy, I knew you were dumb, but I didn’t think you were an Idiot.” Changbin jeered at
him, plopping down on a chair across from his hospital bed.
He didn’t really take in the room until now, but it was pretty nice. There was a couch and some
chairs in front of a window on his left. A door to what he assumed was a bathroom on his right and
a big TV in the front of the room.
Seungmin and Hyunjin were leaning on the wall near the bathroom door. Felix and Changbin made
themselves at home on the couch. Chan sat silently in the armchair in the corner, and then there
was Minho, who sat next to him on the bed. He was messing with something on the monitors, his
back towards Han.
Something about this whole thing was bothering him. His mind was still a little fuzzy about what
had happened, but his gut feeling was that something was wrong. He’s learned to listen to that
feeling.
“So uh, Channie,” the man looked up upon hearing his name. “I understand that you’re pissed and
all but I… I don’t feel like this was a coincidence or whatever.”
He watched Chan's body stiffen at his admission, his posture becoming more guarded.
“What makes you think that?” he questioned carefully
He tried to avoid looking at anyone when he spoke his next sentence, too afraid of what he might
see.
“It just felt…wrong I guess? Like they didn’t take anything, they didn’t really even like to accost
me either. Maybe I’ve seen too many movies, but don’t they usually threaten you and demand
things and shit? This person just kind of shot me. I get that that happens, that sometimes people just
shoot people, but I don't know. This didn't feel like that, not to me.” He felt an odd tension in the
air and had to fight the urge to brush himself off. To make a joke or some dismissive comment
about how he’s probably just paranoid or suffering from main character syndrome or something.
Instead he continued “ I have this weird sense of deja vu, which doesn’t make any sense
considering I’ve never been shot before. It’s all still so fuzzy, but something is hiding in the static,
and it’s driving me crazy. It’s like when you're trying to think of a word, and it’s just on the tip of
your tongue, but you still have no idea what the hell it is? I just can’t shake this voice in the back of
my mind that’s screaming at me that this isn’t right, yanno?”
He sighed in frustration. He felt like there was no good way to explain this without sounding
insane. He sounded like he was just some trauma victim in denial trying to make sense of a
senseless tragedy even to himself.
“Just so you guys know he's really high so~” Hyunjin chimed in helpfully.
“Okay.” His head shot up to face Chan and the sound of his voice “I believe you.” he continued “If
you think this wasn’t right, then you're probably right. Your instincts are good, trust them.”
“You say that, but we both know I haven’t always been the best judge of people's intentions.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself, not now, not ever. Understand?” Chan spoke sternly.
Chan has always been like an older brother to him, especially after he’d lost his parents, and
Jisungs' family basically took him in. He’s always been overprotective even more so after
everything that happened.
“Sorry, I don’t actually think that. I'm just dismissing myself because I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll
look stupid If I'm wrong, And I’m just plain scared if I'm right.” he sighed
“Should we be worried about a follow-up attack?” Changbin chimed in, a nervous look on his face.
“I’d like to see them try.” Chan scoffed.
It was a fair point though. Now that they knew there was a threat it’d be a lot harder to get to him.
Chan would make sure of that. It helps that your best friend/honorary sibling owns a private
security company.
“I wouldn’t!” Han said, laughing awkwardly trying to lighten the tension. He heard Minho huff out
a laugh under his breath. He wanted to tattoo the sound onto his brain. “So like, is this just as
annoying as you thought it’d be? Like on a scale of 1-10,” he asked, chuckling at the wide-eyed
look he’d received in response.
“You heard that? To be fair I was referring to having to carry your bloody unconscious body to the
car. Not you in general.”
“I’ll take it.” He giggled back.
“Leave it to Hannie to get shot and somehow end up with a hot doctor exactly his type. Life is so
unfair.” Felix sighed dreamily with a wink
“I don’t think those things even out Lixie, like not at all actually.” he laughed back
“So you do think he’s hot?” Changbin teased
“Firstly, he is still in the room. This is an odd conversation to have about someone while they’re
still in the room. Secondly, and I mean this in a completely ‘thank you for saving my life’ type of
way, but I would be an idiot not to.”
“Simp!”
“Well, on that note, I think our patient here needs a bit of rest, yeah? Let’s give him some room,
you guys can visit again in the morning. Rest is integral to the healing process, and I’m not actually
sure how he’s awake with the amount of drugs in his system.” Seungmin chimed in.
“I’m just cool like that” he shot back with finger guns
“I don’t think finger guns are appropriate right now Hannie, seems in bad taste,” Felix called back
as he left the room.
He had a point.
“Are you in any pain? Besides general body aches?” Minho asked as he stood to look at Han.
“I kind of feel like I got hit by a bus, but my leg doesn’t hurt too bad.”
“Okay, I’m gonna up your pain meds just a bit. You seem to have a strange tolerance for your pain
meds. Hopefully, you can get some more sleep. I’ll be back in periodically to check on you.”
Minho gave him a light smile, and it gave him butterflies. God, was he always so easy?
He watched Minho inject something into his IV, and he felt himself begin to melt into his bed. Shit
that stuff works fast.
He found himself back on the street. He could feel the cold on his skin, goosebumps painting his
arms. The air smelled wet, the way it gets after it rains or snows. The only thing illuminating the
blackness of the night was the few streetlamps that sparsely lined the empty street. He could see
his breath in front of him, his hands shoved in his pockets for warmth. It was almost peaceful. The
solace of the empty street.
He was startled by a noise coming from behind him. He turned on his heels just in time to see a cat
skittering out of a nearby alleyway. It paused when it saw him, its small body still on alert from
whatever had spooked it. He couldn't help but coo at the cute little black cat. He never understood
the bad rep, he thought they were cute, they reminded him of toothless.
The next noise that startled him wasn't so cute. A clicking noise, metallic and sharp. He turned just
in time for the loud bang to ring through his ears. At first, he thought it was a firework, but then he
 saw the gun. He didn't even feel anything at first. His heart was racing, and he could hear the
thumping in his ears like a drum. His mind was numbingly blank. There was a warm creeping
feeling running down his leg, it tickled in a way. He almost thought he wet himself, but his gut told
him it was something else. The pain reassured him that it was in fact blood. If that wasn't proof
enough, the smell of iron and gunpowder permeating the once-refreshing air sure was.
His knees hit the ground with a sickening thud, a fresh surge of liquid coating his thigh. His skin
was covered in a thin layer of sweat even though he was shivering. Freezing cold.
He looked up at the shadowed figure before him. A sickening smirk on their face. He almost
thought he heard them laugh. A dark chuckle, the kind that comes from deep in your chest. It sent a
chill down his spine. He took deep breaths through his nose, trying to calm himself down enough
to do something, anything. He felt bile begin to rise up his throat, a sour taste filling his mouth.
There was something in the air that made his stomach turn so violently it almost overrode the pain
in his leg. So sickeningly sweet he felt like his mind was swimming in honey.
Vanilla and roses.

Chapter End Notes

Hope you enjoyed.

 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

Tw: panic attack

He shot up and was immediately dry heaving so violently he thought he might cough up an organ.
He couldn’t breath, his mind was full of cotton and it made it so much worse. He knew this feeling
too well. The numbed senses and sluggish thoughts. The way his limbs felt like they were made of
lead. The way his eyes fluttered almost endlessly in an attempt to keep them open. He didn’t miss
this feeling, and coupled with what was clearly a panic attack beneath his numbed nerves he felt
like he was in hell.
His mind tried so hard to keep up with itself, to tell him he was okay and that he needed to breathe
but it fell on deaf ears. He felt like he was suffocating, his erratic heartbeat a stark contrast to the
lethargy encasing his every limb. He survived a gunshot just to end up suffocating during a panic
attack, it seemed almost a fitting end for him he thinks.
Suddenly there are hands on his shoulders, with a firm assuring grip. His gaze is fuzzy but he can
see Minho's blurry form gazing at him with a clear concert etched into his features. He
immediately threw himself at the man as sobs began to wrack through his body. He should feel
embarrassed, he didn’t even know Minho yet here he was clinging to him. He felt as hands began
caressing his back reassuringly. He nuzzled his face into the man's neck inhaling as deeply as he
could to try and rid his senses of that god awful smell.
He smelled of lavender and sandalwood and something that seemed to be uniquely him. There was
something so comforting about it that it pulled another sob from his throat. He felt the collared
shirt become wet with his tears and he tried to mumble an apology but all that came out was a
stuttered breath. His breathing slowly settled with each deep inhale of Minho's scent. As his mind
cleared he was aware of Minho's voice. Soft whispers of affirmations and encouragement spilling
from his lips as his hands continued to caress his back comfortingly.
“I’m sorry” he choked the words out of his dry throat only to be shushed by Minho.
“Just focus on breathing for now and we can talk in a moment. No apologies needed.” his voice
was calm and controlled as if trying to lull him to sleep.
Everything about this man was so calming to him and he couldn’t understand why he was so
inexplicably drawn to him. His voice, his demeanor, his appearance, even his smell. God that was
such a weird thing to be attracted to. He decided to just let himself sink into his comfort and
reacclimate to his body.
They sat there for a while in a comfortable silence. Minho gently rocked them and smoothed his
hands over his back. His limbs began to feel like they were under his control again, and he could
breathe easier. He was still reluctant to pull away from Minho's embrace though, his mind still a bit
fuzzy. He just felt so safe there and he felt like if he let go now he’d sink right back into his
nightmare. He was tethered to reality by the warmth of the man's body heat and the weight of his
hands on his back.
“I had a nightmare. I-It felt so real, and then the smell, oh god the smell I just couldn’t, and then I
woke up and the drugs, and the smell and the heaviness and I couldn’t breathe. I was back in the
street and I was back with her and-and I just couldn’t breath” his voice was bitter and his words
came out as sobs that wracked through his whole body. His grip tightened on Minho, probably
painfully so, but the man just let him.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now. No guns, you're not on the street, no one else here but you and I.” he
soothed.
“You smell good,” he whispered into the crook of his savior's neck, feeling a chuckle roll through
Minho’s shoulders.
“Thank you, I shower.” Han just hummed in response and nuzzled closer. “I think you need more
sleep. You were only out for about 3 hours.” he said, petting his hair. Han just hummed again. He
was sleepy, a few more hours couldn’t hurt. So he did just that.
The next time he woke up was much gentler. Soft conversation floated in the air around him. A
soft vibration underneath him and the soft rise and fall of a chest. His body pressed against a
comforting warmth. An arm wrapped firmly around his waist- and oh god he fell asleep on Minho.
He was too afraid to open his eyes and face the men so he just pretended he was still sleeping.
“It’s kind of creepy seeing you be all soft on someone. Makes my gums hurt” he recognized it as
Hyunjins voice.
“How can one not be soft on Hannie, he is but a baby.” He heard Felix coo
“Last I checked he is a grown ass man, says so right here in his chart.” He heard Seungmin snark.
“Nah I agree, major baby girl energy.” Chan giggled “It is sweet he seems so comfortable with
you, he’s not usual like this. Not with strangers.”
“I was just there, nothing special.” Minho spoke gently, his thumb caressing Hans ribs.
“Don’t discredit yourself so much, he’s not one to just lean on anyone.” Chan spoke again with a
teasing tone
He’s not wrong but it’s still embarrassing to hear. He wiggled a bit in embarrassment and he felt
Minho squeeze his side reassuringly seeming to sense he was, in fact, awake. He opened his eyes
and took in his surroundings, everyone in the same spots as yesterday, seeming to have designated
spots. The only difference being that Seungmin and Hyunjin now had chairs instead of standing.
The others were conversing amongst themselves seemingly trying to get to know each other better.
Han thought he should do the same.
He blinked up at the owner of his new favorite pillow and smiled when he saw him staring back.
He looked so soft, he wondered if he had also fallen asleep while they were snuggled up together.
“I would like you to know that this would usually be considered wildly unprofessional. Patients
should not cling to their Doctors like koalas and Doctors should not indulge Koala behavior.”
Minho spoke quietly with a smirk, and Han felt his cheeks heat up.
“I resent being compared to an animal whose population is suffering due to raging cases of
chlamydia”
“That’s disturbing, I don’t want to think of Koala sex. Please keep any further knowledge of animal
STI’s to yourself please and thanks.”
“I make no promises.” Han said full of conviction, Minho rolled his eyes at that
“How are you doing? Feeling any better after having a nice nap?” his tone losing its teasing lilt and
instead taking on a fondness that made him want to hide.
“Yeah I am, thanks, 10/10 pillow, would use again.” He didn’t even register the implication of his
words till Minho's eyebrows shot up in shock.
“Noted.” he chuckled with a wink.
“I didn’t mean that in a weird way. Like I don’t usually sleep that well and you’re just like firm?
Like I would use your chest as reference for a pillow to buy...No wait, that sounds weirder. Your
face short circuits my brain. I am so sorry.” he brought his hands to his face and buried it in them.
These are the moments that made him wish he was a worm. Life would be so much easier as a
worm. You can embarrass yourself, people have no expectations of worms, and worms can’t speak.
Most importantly they can crawl into holes which he very much wishes he could do right now.
Alas he is not a worm, but a man.
Minho didn’t seem perturbed by his ramblings, he just snorted and shook his head. He seemed
almost endeared.
“We’ve met before you know, I drove you and my brother home after you got violently wasted at a
party like 7ish months ago.”
“Wait what?”
“Yeah, you guys passed out on my living room floor the moment I got you inside,” He huffed out
“Living room floor?” he was trying to think back to a time where he’d woken up in an unfamiliar
place, and then it hit him, “You’re Innie’s brother! Holy shit, I feel like I'm flirting with my friend's
dad!”
“You were trying to flirt with me?” Minho asked feigning confusion
“I never said it was going well. Word vomiting praise is basically my only move.”
“And how does that usually work out for you?”
“...Yes.”
“It wasn’t a yes or no question but whatever floats your boat I guess.” Minho let out what was
probably his favorite laugh yet. It was high pitched and so genuine it made his kidneys hurt. He
would do anything to keep hearing that sound.
“How uh, how is Innie by the way? I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
“He’s doing good, he’s in the last semester of his nursing program so he’s been pretty busy
recently. I haven’t told him you’re here or anything but I can let him know if you wanna see him?”
“That would be nice actually, but I don’t know if he’d want to see me though.” He smiled wryly
thinking back on the last conversation he and Innie had had. “We had a pretty intense argument the
last time I talked to him, and I kind of cut him off.”
“He’s stubborn, sure, and he doesn’t like being wrong, but he wouldn’t stay mad. He’s not one to
hold a grudge.”
“He was right though.” Han said so quietly even he almost missed the words coming from his
mouth.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

If you can't tell by the fact that I've uploaded 5 chapters in the span of 2 days, I've been
bored. I don't plan on having an official schedule or anything. That would be too
stressful as I'm in college and that shits rough so. You'll get what you get when you get
it I guess. ;)
Much love.<3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The days passed rather quickly. His friends came to visit him whenever they had a chance. His leg
was healing up well, the bullet miraculously missing any major structures, and it being through and
through was the best possible outcome. He spent his days sleeping, reading, watching videos, and
most importantly getting to know Minho.
He learned that Minho was 2 years older than him, he originally wanted to be a vet due to his love
of cats, but couldn’t stand the idea of having to euthanize an animal. He learned he liked to dance
in his free time and volunteered at the animal shelter on the 1st of every month. Minho told him
how he and Innie weren’t biologically siblings, and that they grew up in the same foster home
eventually getting adopted by the same family. Minho explained how his family owned the clinic,
and that he mainly brought him here because he recognized him. He knew the hospital bills would
be expensive as hell and the clinic is a nonprofit so it was all and all the better choice. He was
sincere about the ambulance thing too though, the hospital is a significantly longer drive from
where he was shot than the clinic is. Minho also explained that he was in the area because he had
been trying to catch a stray over there for weeks to bring it to the shelter but it kept getting away.
He thinks it must’ve been that black cat he saw.
He’s doing so much better…and yet, he’s not.
He knows he should tell Chan about what he saw. He should tell him about the dream and the
panic attack, and the perfume but he just can’t. He was surprised to find out that Minho never
really explained what happened that night. He just dodged the question every time someone asked
why the hell they were in bed together. He was cold, he was tired, he wanted to find out how
comfortable the hospital beds actually were. Just stupid flimsy excuses that really made no sense.
That was another thing he learned about Minho, he liked to act cold and aloof but in reality he was
extremely considerate. He also would say and do the strangest things. Han would do his best to
play along, but sometimes he just didn’t get the bit.
He liked how his days were going, he didn’t want to leave the hospital, didn’t want to leave Minho.
He felt safe there. What place could be safer than a hospital? He was surrounded by medical
personnel, they had security at the front of the building and cameras everywhere, it was all so safe.
But outside. Outside of these walls was another story, outside of these walls is something
inherently out of his control. Outside of these walls there lies the potential for pain. He knew there
were bad things that could happen out there, unexpected things. Just when he was beginning to
cope with one bad experience another came along and sent him spiraling, and what’s stopping that
from happening again? What's stopping another June or another shooter from waltzing into his
bubble and taking. Taking his sense of security, his trust, his innocence, his autonomy. Nothing.
Nothing but these walls. He didn’t want to leave these walls but that wasn’t his choice to make. He
had to be discharged, and discharged he would be.
He didn’t leave his room the first week after he got home. He spent his time catastrophizing. He
was doing so well mentally while he was in the hospital, but now that he was alone… now
everything was real.
He was shot. He could have died, he was lucky to be alive. He felt like he owed his life to that
damn stray cat. He was so lucky to have been shot in that particular alley way. God it was a curse
to feel lucky about where you got shot. Which is another new thing he absolutely despised. People
loved to tell him how lucky he was. How much worse things could’ve been, as if he wasn’t there,
as if he didn’t know. He understands more than anyone, yet people love to remind him. It was so
tiring pretending to be appreciative of their well wishes when every word makes him feel so
empty. He didn’t feel fucking lucky. His life would be so fucking different if he was lucky. He
would be living at home with loving parents who loved him unconditionally and not just when it
suited their needs. If he was lucky he would never have to relive constant memories of the worst
nights of his life, of the nights his trust was violated so evilly. If he was so lucky there wouldn’t be
a constant reminder etched into his skin of the night he could have died. So what if he survived it
all? It didn’t make it hurt any less, it didn’t make it feel any less agonizing both physically and
psychologically. He was not fucking lucky.
His mind was constantly all over the place. He’d go from feeling completely fine, normal, to
hysterical so fast he gave himself whiplash. Chan did his best to try and distract him, to be there for
him, but he had a company to run, things to do. He couldn’t babysit him 24/7 and Han hated the
fact that Chan clearly felt guilty about that fact. Chan felt more like a father to him than his own
despite their close ages. The bar was kind of on the floor in all honesty but still. It was okay though,
he just needed time. Time to process and heal and accept. Time to gather his thoughts and figure
out how to proceed with the information he has
His second week home, he began to venture out of his room and gave himself free range of the
apartment. Chan lived in the fucking penthouse of an expensive building so the place was pretty
big. Two floors, 3 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, a chef's kitchen, a fancy ass living room with floor to
ceiling windows, basically the stereotypical rich dude penthouse you’d see in movies or dramas.
This place was actually his parents and was left to him in their will, along with numerous other
assets. He sold most of them but he couldn’t bring himself to part with this place. Too many good
memories.
He saw Chan more and more, and Felix and Changbin visited often. They’d just talk about
whatever mundane things they wanted to talk about. No one pushed him about how he was doing.
Never tried to force him to leave the apartment or judged him for his clear fear of doing so. They
Were supportive and he couldn’t ask for anything more. Well that's not true, there was one thing he
wished for. He missed Minho.
Through the most unfortunate of circumstances, Minho was sick the day Jisung was discharged.
This meant Han was unable to try and get his number, and he was too scared to ask Hyunjin or
Seungmin for it. He couldn’t help but feel like he missed out on something great. They got along
so well and now just nothing. Like he was never there. He knew it was most likely a temporary
friendship from the beginning, but now that it was over he felt disappointed. It was for the best
though. Minho was his Doctor, and no matter how special it felt at the time he was just doing his
job. It still stung though. Not to mention this means he probably won’t be able to speak to Innie
again. To apologize.
Chans brought him up a few times in passing. Asking if they’ve been in contact, if he missed him.
He’d just laugh and blow off the question. It was an unreasonable attachment to a man he barely
knew, he didn’t have the right to miss him. He found out the guys had been in contact with Hyunjin
and Seungmin though. Apparently they had all gotten rather close over the course of their visits.
He definitely wasn’t bitter. Not at all. They never mentioned if they had Minho’s number. He
definitely didn’t have to constantly remind himself that stealing your friends phone and searching
through their contacts without permission is not appropriate behavior.
By week 3 he was honestly feeling a lot better. He still had no intention of stepping foot out of the
house, but that was fine by him. He had food, a bed, running water, and his friends. At least he had
most of those things, but of course things never exactly go his way.
 He had fully forgotten that it was now the last week of September, meaning it was the week of
their long awaited trip. They had planned this out months ago, to go out to Felix’s cabin, and he had
been so excited back then to go, but now… . He wasn’t going to let them cancel on his behalf, he
reassured them he would be fine on his own. He even insisted he wanted the alone time, that he
was feeling smothered by all their coddling and constant attention. He knew he wouldn’t be able to
enjoy himself if he’d gone with them, and he couldn’t bear to ruin their vacation.
So here he was, alone in their huge apartment, by himself. He really didn’t mind all that much. He
would be okay. It didn’t matter that his friends were going to be hours away practically
unreachable for the next week and ½. He was 100% totally okay with that. He was definitely not
terrified of his attacker showing up while they were gone and finishing the job. Nope.
Not. At. All.
About 5 hours after they left, Han found himself laying upside down on the couch letting the blood
rush to his head. He didn’t have anything better to do and honestly it was interesting to see the
skyline like this. It was like the buildings were protruding from the sky like stalactites. Then his
phone pinged with a text. He reached for it just as he heard a knock at the door.
He felt his heart drop. Who the hell could it possibly be?
He quickly checked his phone to see a text from Chan.
DAD(AKA Chan):
Got you a surprise. ;)
He figured Chan must’ve ordered him food or something, always the doting father.
He stood up from the couch (admittedly too fast), and felt the blood rush from his head back into
the rest of his body. His vision was a little spotty, and he felt the strong urge to just plop down on
the ground but he pushed onwards. He swung the door open to find that he was in fact right. Chan
had sent him food, his favorite actually. Pizza from this family owned business downtown. What
he wasn’t expecting was for Minho to be the one delivering it. He also wasn’t expecting the
suitcase he had with him.
*ping*
DAD(AKA Chan):
Have fun.(Not too much fun, I do in fact have cameras) <3.

Chapter End Notes

Love me some tropes.

Let's see how it goes. ;)
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

This chapter is more of a filler to lead into the next part of the story so it's particularly
short as there wasn't much to add till we get into the main part of the plot.
Hoping to upload a longer chapter tomorrow. :)
(Sorry for the late upload I had classes today, and I'm exhausted)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

To say he was surprised would be an understatement to see Minho standing before him. His light
brown hair looked so fluffy, his mint green sweater perfectly complimenting his skin tone. Baggy
light wash jeans with rips in the knees, and plain white converse. He looked so different from his
professional dress he donned in the hospital. He looked so soft, he felt like he might melt. He had
the handle of a roller suitcase in one hand and a pizza box in the other.

“You look surprised to see me, did Chan uh, not tell you I'm coming?”

“No, no he did…like 30 seconds ago… kind of.” Han couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of
his chest from the slight blush on Minho’s cheeks.

Han could pretty easily fill in the blanks of how he ended up face to face with Minho. knowing
Chan he probably concocted this plan under the guise of him needing a babysitter. He didn’t know
whether he should kiss Chan or kick him in the shin. Yes, he was really happy to see Minho, but
again they didn’t know eachother super well. He spent a month and ½ in the hospital with the man,
but in the real world, in the world outside of those walls they were strangers. Sure this is a chance
for them to get to know each other, but what if Minho didn’t like him? What if he didn’t like
Minho? What if Minho wasn’t as good a person as he thought? What if it’s all an act? No, Chan
wouldn’t let someone into his apartment and alone with him unless he knew they were good, safe.
But what if-
He was pulled from his thoughts by a high pitched squeak. That’s when he noticed the little cloth
bag on top of the suitcase. A baby blue square with white netted sides, and big green eyes staring
up at him. What better to pull you from the brink of a spiral than a…

“Cat.” he smartly said, pointing at it like a child.

“Ah yeah, this is Maeve. Chan said it was okay if I brought her.” Minho giggled at Hans' wide
eyed stare. He looked so innocent like that.

“More than okay, she is very welcome in our not so humble abode, but I can’t guarantee you will
leave the premises with her. She may mysteriously disappear, like a pesky left sock.”

“I will fight you. As much as I'd hate to forsake my babysitting duties, I will go feral for the safety
of my cat.” He cocked is brow in challenge

“Yeah sure, come inside though so I can meet the baby.” His eyes were still locked with the big
green ones staring at him curiously.

Minho walked into the apartment and slipped off his shoes before placing the small cat carrier on
 the ground and unzipping the top. Han watched him walk over to the counter with pizza and start
setting various things up for dinner.

His attention was quickly back on the cat. He plopped down on the floor and watched as the small
calico cat stepped out of the carrier and into view. She was the cutest baby he had ever seen in his
life and it caused him almost physical pain to look at her. He couldn’t help but coo with every sniff
and step she took in an attempt to gather her surroundings. He did his best to hold it together, but
when she sniffed his hand and subsequently headbutted it he lost it. He was squealing and baby
talking like his life depended on it. He reached out to gently pet her head and she happily received
the affection.

Unfortunately Minho decided that they had to eat, after far too little kitty time for his liking. The
pizza was good though, warm, and gooey, and soft, and everything you could hope for. He moaned
into the first bite, forgetting how good the place really was. He hadn’t had it in months, too busy
with other things to get out to the city. They made idle chatter as they ate, Maeve wandering
around trying to get acquainted with her new environment. She seemed to have found a spot she
looked in the armchair closest to the windows. She curled up facing out to the city.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see you off that last day. I had wanted to be there.” Minho said after a lapse in
conversation.

“It’s okay,” Han said with a wry smile. His chest ached a little. He didn’t like it. “I was a little
disappointed I couldn’t get your number though. I liked talking to you, it was nice.”

“I liked talking to you too. I had actually just gotten Chan's number from Hyunjin to ask for your
own when he asked me to stay with you while they were gone.”

“I’m glad you agreed honestly. I thought I'd be fine on my own but when they left all I could think
about was how screwed I’d be if anything happened. I haven’t left the house in like 3 weeks, and
honestly the thought of trying terrifies me.” He sipped his drink to try and alleviate how awkward
he felt at admitting something so personal.

“It’s understandable though. To be scared I mean. You had something so unexpected happen to
you and you don’t know whether you have reason to worry about whether another similar event
will occur or not. But you can’t let yourself drown in that fear. Self-preservation is good, yes, and I
know you can’t help the way you feel. Personally though, I think more than anything the most
important aspect of life is quality. If you aren’t happy, what's the point, yanno? So if you aren’t
happy, if you aren’t satisfied stuck behind these walls, I’d be more than happy to help in whatever
way I can to make you feel better. To feel happy.”

And he was right, of course he was. He was smart, and realistic, and he used logic to target the
irrational side of his anxieties. He wasn’t happy like this, he didn’t want to be stuck in these walls.
He didn’t want his sense of security to be tied to whether or not he could lock a door to keep his
problems at bay. He knew he couldn’t just turn it off, he couldn’t just tell himself that his worries
were silly and just walk out the door. He wished that’s how it works, but he knows better. He needs
to put in work if he wants to overcome this fear that was beginning to derail his already derailed
life. So, if Minho was willing to help him, who was he to say no?

“I’d like that, yeah.”

Chapter End Notes

 Hope you enjoyed!

End Notes

Hope you enjoyed. :)

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