Chapter Text
“Put me down!” Seungmin growled in annoyance.
The man in fucking stupid stupid spandex and red helmet just tilts his head, Seungmin may not be able to see his his face but he knows the man is one hindree percent undoubtedly smirking. It infuriates him.
“You’re injured!” He grits out over the wind, but still he clutches the man’s body tightly, because they’re hanging on a god-damned ledge since some wannabe villain decides to blow up the east wing of the research facility. His fear overrides his hands gripping on the strong back muscle and the fact that this man has his hand on Seungmin’s ass.
“Calm down, puppy.” The vigilante or so-called anti-hero, a.k.a Red Hood murmurs easily, before he moves and sways a bit and lets go of the ledge— Seungmin shuts his eyes, certain that he’s going to die. If he dies the last thing he hears would be a voice that is distorted through the synth in Red Hood’s helmet that sounds so awfully sultry that Seungmin wants to kick him.
Seungmin let out a yelp and they swung down and sideways, they crashed to the window of the lower floor to the facility and rolled on the ground, Red Hood doing his best to shield Seungmin from all of the debris as they were pressed together chest to chest, Red Hood caging him in and taking the impact of the crash and the fall.
They ended up on the floor, sideways, and Seungmin’s first instinct was to press on the man’s strong and muscled thigh– he’s bleeding and the blood pouring out is worrisome enough that his artery might be nicked.
Fuck. That’s trouble.
“So eager for some action huh, pup?” the modulated voice questions with a hint of disdain.
“Shut up, you need immediate medical attention.” Seungmin hissed. He looks around and curses, before he finds a scissor scattered in the floor of the office they crashed in, and Seungmin ripped the bottom half of his scrubs, wrapping Red Hood’s thigh tightly— that will staunch the bleeding until Seungmin can lug this man into an operating room.
He stands quickly, and offers a hand, the vigilante frozen in shock, there’s no reading the other’s expression with the mask on, so Seungmin hopes the man isn’t glaring at him. Red Hood was known for his volatile nature.
“What are you waiting for?” He cried out, glancing anxiously outside the window in case the robbers decided to rain in again, he pulls Red Hood up with him, hobbling outside the room.
See– Seungmin was having a relaxing day. He checked out of his night shift at 10 AM in the morning, and headed out to the research facility to look at his friend’s project by means to stretch and socialize before sleeping for 24 hours straight. But then apparently some robbers decided to hop on and Red Hood appeared crashing into the window with his stupid helmet and even stupider leather everything.
Earlier, Seungmin had ushered the people out before he got caught in the gun-fight, resulting in his predicament as of now. Enough playing hero for him, he thought mullishsly.
“The robbers–” Red Hood says, limping behind him.
“--can wait, doubt the police missed that.” Seungmin said quickly, exiting the building and trying to find the first aid kit.
Red Hood stops and Seungmin wants to scream because the make shift bandage isn’t doing a good job. Blood is still leaking.
Red Hood shakes, fist clenched, “I can’t just–”
Seungmin used a lot of his power to jerk Red Hood’s stupidly strong muscled arm, startling him into silence.
“Hear that?” Seungmin cuts in, and there was a moment of silence. Red Hood tilts his head. “Nothing. No bullets no nothing, pretty sure you scared them shitless with your own guns.” Seungmin huffed.
Red Hood raised an arm and flexed his biceps, “These guns?” he manage to sound teasing even if he’s bleeding.
Seungmin rolled his eyes and continued marching away.
His hand is tight on Red Hood’s gloved one, and when he realized he’s dragging the man, Seungmin slowed down, and put one hand over his shoulder, while his other was on the man’s waist.
“Are you alright?” He asked at the red helmet.
The man snorts, “What do you mean–”
“You’re still bleeding– any light headedness? Difficulty of–”
“No! Fuck, let’s just fucking move!” He snaps, dragging them forward, still limping pitifully. “It’s not the first time I got shot.”
“Guess you’re not good enough to dodge.” Seungmin mutters.
“I doubt you can avoid a stray bullet from ten snopers.” Red Hood snarks back.
Ok fair. Seungmin would’ve died in an instant.
Either way, Seungmin grits his teeth at the man’s rudeness and hides a grimace at how badly the man is trying to push through, but then again perhaps all vigilantes are pushovers. He sighed internally as he spots an elevator door.
He punched the button down and entered the elevator, leaning on the opposite wall to Red Hood, glad to find the hallway and the elevator desolate.
The ride down was silent, and even standing, there’s already blood pooling down the length of Red Hood’s left feet. Panic gnaws in Seungmin’s stomach and he wonders where he can get a medical kit as soon as possible.
“You need a hospital.” He said as soon as they exited the elevator.
“Fuck that.” Red Hood said haggardly.
Seungmin groans, remembering a certain incident with another vigilante. RIght. He drags Red Hood into a nearby toilet, glad to find the place has been emptied out because of the robbers. He opens the door and drops the man on the floor.
“What the–”
“Sit tight.” He snaps, closing the door and locking it, ignoring Red Hood’s angered screams. How convenient that this toilet has a lock, he wonders. But Seungmin sprints outside, knowing that Lia’s clinic is right up ahead.
He’s panting and nearly gagging as he reached back to the bathroom, glad that Lia barely asked him any question, just commenting on his very bad boy crop-top scrub. Shut up Lia.
He opens the door and for a moment he’s certain that Red Hood had left–
But no, the man is there and pressing on his wound, head lolling sideways. Okay, the blood loss is getting into him, so nicked artery definitely, and maybe because under all this helmet and kevlar, perhaps Red Hood’s just another civillian.
“You need to open your helmet so you can breathe easier.” Seungmin said first, approaching him and patting the man to raise him into awareness.
“You locked me up, you little shit.” Red Hood hissed accusingly with a light slur.
“And you’re bleeding. You’ll bleed to death when you reach wherever it is you want to go.” He counters, leaning down and heaving. “Is it hell?”
Red Hood barks out a wheezing laugh— and Seungmin hides a smile, still panting lightly as he prepares his kit. Saline infusion set because he’s not risking hypovolemic shock.
“Not quite athletic, huh?” The man said, sounding teasing. Seungmin huffed and opened the bag.
He grabbed a scissor and cut around the wound, before flushing it with normal saline. He grits his teeth at the wound. It’s deep, and it’s going to be one hell of a single handed operation in a non sterile environment. He can do this.
“Open your helmet, so you won’t pass out.” Seungmin snaps, pulling Red Hood’s arm to secure a tourniquet.
“No– you’re just a pervert who wants to see my face.”
Asshole, Seungmin thinks as he sterilized Red’s hand, inserting an IV cath and securing it with a tape. Alright. Drip in.
“I’m sure you’re not that handsome.” Seungmin said sweetly, albeit sarcastically.
There was a pregnant pause and for once Seungmin was certain the vigilante was not going to open his helmet. He wonders what he should do if the man decides to go into respiratory distress and fails to breath before suddenly Red Hood raises his arms shakily to hold his helmet.
Seungmin blinks and sucks in a breath.
His heart pounds loudly– and he’s certain it’s not because of the run from Lia’s clinic.
Is Red Hood…
He hears a soft click and whooshing sound, before the man takes off the helmet. He meets a handsomely sculpted face. Black hair was matted with sweat, pressing onto his forehead messily and the black domino fits his look. White lens glances at Seungmin’s own eyes. He’s pallid and covered in thin sweat, he looks positively sick.
Seungmin coughs awkwardly.
The man smirks, tilting his head, and for a moment Seungmin wishes he can see his eyes.
“Still not that handsome?” He smirks. His voice sound mirthful, and has a nice baritone to it. Seungmin repressed a shiver.
“Wow, blood loss makes you delusional.” He says instead.
So Seungmin gets to work.
He laments on the limited kit and Red Hood’s vehement denial of any hospitals, blood transfusion is surely the better option here but he knows if he suggests the hospital again red hood might just bite his head off. He laments for a CT scan.
So he focus on what he can do. He applies iodine and next the local anesthesia. He snaps on his gloves and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and ignoring the white lenses that is hyper focused on him. Seungmin opens his eyes, and does his job.
–
He’s not sure how long he stayed crouched in the bathroom floor, thankful that the building is refined enough to have a decent bathroom. His thigh is shaking under pressure and his shoulders are aching.
He snaps his gloves off and eyes his handicraft.
“This is a highly stretchable area, so please minimize movement and pressure on that leg if you don't want to tear off my masterpiece.” He said.
It did not nick any major veins but the cut hit a lot of capillaries and a vein. He’s grateful that Lia packed him a lot of epinephrine and gauzs.
“Can’t really promise anything pup.” The man huffs, eyeing Seungmin’s stitching work. “It’s neat.”
“I’m a doctor.” Seungmin deadpans, then falls on his ass and sighed. He wanted to relax for today, but that plan seemed so far away. Seungmin just wants to pass out.
The adrenaline rush that day seemed to have crashed down on him and Seungmin took a deep breath, he sits up and leaned back against the wall beside the vigilante, His hands shakes for once and gripping it together tightly.
Seungmin closed his eyes and wondered how he actually survived today.
“A good one.” Red Hood pipes out suddenly. Seungmin blinks and stare at the white lens, “Passable.” Offering a smile that caught Seungmin off-guard.
“Fuck you.” Seungmin huffed.
He leaned back and ignored whatever it is that Red Hood was doing. And well– he passed out.
–
Seungmin wakes up in Lia’s clinic, the woman peering down at him curiously.
“A certain vigilante dropped you in, Seungminnie, should I be worried?” She questions.
Seungmin groans.
–
Minho grimaced and for once he wished he had Jisung’s or Felix’s freakishly quick healing abilities because with that he’s certain the wound on his thigh would’ve closed already. Compared to the average human being, he’s still enhanced with his healing and strength, because the dip in the pit rewrote his DNA into the perfect human specimen. But still, compared to his freakish vigilante buddies, Minho’s as slow as a snail when it comes to healing.
Minho sighed and walked around the kitchen before he went to the front.
The coffee shop is thankfully not in its peak hour. His co-worker, Jungwoo is out on a brunch break so Minho holds the front himself. He rarely works this hour, prefering early mornings than night, because he’s usually shooting people and swinging over rooftops during this hour.
But alas, he’s on desk duty until his wound is better.
The door dings open and a man enters, Minho prepared his customor service demeanor.
“Welcome to–”
He stops.
It’s the doctor who saved him. The doctor who berated him.
A part of him wants to wink and tease but he holds himself back. What’s the use of revealing his secret identity to a kind and good doctor. The man was still on his phone until he reached the front of the cashier.
He glanced up and blinked a few times. Dark circle under his eyes and a pale complexion. Minho hadn’t noticed this when the doctor saved him, too focused on not bleeding to death. But now he gets a good look at the doctor, and has to cringe.
“That’d be three thousand won.” He says instead if making a nasty comment of how sleep deprived the doctor is.
The doctor pays up and Minho makes his order, hobbling around lightly behind the counter.
He’s lost in thought and nearly drops the cup when the doctor speaks softly.
“You should rest that leg.”
“What?” Minho blurts, freezing. He feels coldness seeps into his bone and also heat from panic and embarrassment and he’s torn between running and hiding. So he freezes and spare the doctor a glance.
A pregnant pause ensues. Minho stares at the doctor who’s now furiously texting before he catches Minho’s burning gaze.
The doctor has a calculating look that makes Minho feels he’s a specimen under a microscope. The doctor tilts his head, “Sprained ankle?”
“Yeah.” Minho answers too quickly. “Definitely, what between dancing and all.” He waved his hand and chuckled awkardly.
The man scrunches his face adorably, “Yikes. Come visit Seoul General Hospital for some meds, maybe you’ll catch me there.” He said easily, then continued to text.
Minho sighed and continued making the doctor’s coffee. He sighed in relief when the coffee’s done and he handed it to the doctor.
Shame he didn’t quite catch the doctor’s name
—
“That stitch looks familiar.”
Minho sighed as he cleaned his wound. “Can you not hover?” He says instead.
Jisung was upside down and staring at Minho’s wound, a curious look on his face.
“You definitely did not stitch that yourself— and I doubt any of us can work that smoothly.”
“Lemme see!” Changbin cuts in, pushing uis way inside the spacious bathroom, and he whistles loudly, “That’s hella immaculate.”
“Maybe I acquired new skills.” Minho said.
“That looks just like my stitches, hey Minho, was the guy who helped—“
“All the stitches in the world look the same Jisung!” Hyunjin hollered from outside.
“That’s it! You’re on Hwang!”
Minho just sighs, Changbin pats his shoulder like a true comrade while Jisung and Hyunjin are probably destroying their furniture yet once again. He eyes the perfect stitch on his thigh.
“So, a hospital?” Changbin asked.
“Nope.” Minho answered easily, “Just a very lucky encounter.”
Minho smiles at the memory of the feisty doctor.