SLEEPERS. | ✔️

1-09

Hoseok only got to the comforts of his bed at approximately 1am sharp, resulting in him almost missing his shrilling alarm sounding for him to get his ass out of bed.

Thankfully, he had enough clarity in his dreams that he managed to dart up as the alarm ended up scrambling around the house when he saw the time. He made do with whatever movements he could do at the same time, brushing his teeth while hurriedly shoving his coat on.

He decided that coffee could wait.

The junior resident stumbled through the doors of the hospital on that particularly quiet morning, alarming the doctor by the door. Hoseok bade an apologetic farewell to him as he took off down the hallway to meet Namjoon in the West Wing.

The guards by the West Wing entrance stared at him strangely while he clambered over to the counter, where he usually met his mentor. Namjoon was somehow later than him that day, which was odd since he seemed to be around most of the time. Maybe he got caught in a meeting or something.

Just as Hoseok counted his fifth minute standing there, the other doctor strode in through the doors, looking probably just as dishevelled as Hoseok had been when he charged in.

"Morning, Hoseok. Sorry I'm late. Got caught up talking to-uh-" he began, eyes wandering in search of an answer for his mentee.

"The other Dr Kim?" Hoseok wriggled an eyebrow at him. He'd already suspected that it was either a meeting or a certain someone he was talking to that caused him to forget the time, since his mentor was usually punctual.

He watched as Namjoon's cheeks went a light shade of pink.

"Y-yeah, but we were talking about office stuff. I still don't condone work relationships, Hoseok."

"Hm, really?"

"R-really!"

"If you say so, boss," Hoseok shrugged it off and made a move to peek at Namjoon's clipboard, "what're we up to today?"

"Uh, few rounds, check on my patients and your patients, paperwork." he started walking, motioning for his mentee to follow behind to do his rounds. A question popped up in his head as they walked in silence.

"When do you want to ask Min Yoongi more questions?"

Though Namjoon couldn't see it, he knew Hoseok had tensed up, and his footsteps seemed less eager and bubbly. He was slowing down.

"I'm not sure. Maybe tomorrow? Not very prepared yet. I suppose I'll just...check on him today."

"You think you're ready to take on your patients without me?" Dr Kim stopped in his tracks, turning to face Hoseok who almost bumped into him when he abruptly halted.

A brief second of worry was sprawled on his face, but he quickly replaced it with a thinking face.

"I think so. Maybe."

And at that one moment, Hoseok felt so vulnerable. He was in the middle of the hallway at the West Wing, a wing for serial killers, answering a question asking if he could take care of his patients, serial killers, all alone.

A very long story short, he wasn't too confident in what he said to his mentor-slash-boss. His voice came out slightly shaky, almost scared of the thing he was about to do.

"It's alright if you need some time, Hoseok," he said in a soft tone that Hoseok had never heard before, "we all need time to adjust, especially under these working conditions."

He had an inkling that it was Namjoon's gentle, soothing voice that made his brain go: "You need more time. Just give it a few more days."

That was what he answered, and his mentor nodded with an understanding smile. Hoseok wanted to think he was so nice to him because of the lack of employees in the past few years. He was like the saving grace of the department, and Namjoon had said before that he didn't want to risk Hoseok leaving.

Not like Hoseok was going to take advantage of his kindness; he was thankful enough that Namjoon agreed to help him with Min Yoongi's case.

"Let's go to 037, Lee Jihoon. I have his file here," Namjoon called out, snapping the other out of his thoughts.

Jung Hoseok could only be so grateful that there was someone so nice to teach him the mechanics of the otherwise insane place he worked at. Sure, his colleagues were great, but they worked at a much better place.

It was his job, and like he'd told himself, he would never leave until he helped every last one of his patients, especially that ravenette in room 039.