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(박종성) In which - Your old high school bully is now your patient, and you’re his home nurse, living under the same roof in his mansion. You soon find out that his job is far from just typing away in his office.
Warnings / Tags: fluff, mature content, dirty talk, heavy sexual tension, enemies, slow burn, stab wound, medical procedures, sutures/stitching, needles / blood, hospital setting, mentions of bullying
now playing ‧₊˚♪ : Like I Do by Ariana Grande
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It had been a week since that chaotic night in the ER. Days since i have seen Jay. I haven't told anybody I've seen him. I knew that if I told Sunoo or Jungwon, they would freak out, so I haven't told anybody yet. I hadn’t seen that man since high school, hadn’t thought about him in years, and suddenly, he was back in my life with a stab wound I had to stitch up. The whole thing felt unreal, like some twisted joke the universe decided to play on me.
Saturday night arrived without warning. It was 8:38 p.m. when the ambulance bay doors burst open and two paramedics wheeled in another unconscious man. “Male in his early twenties, found unresponsive in an alley in Hannam-dong,” one of them called out as they pushed the gurney straight into the emergency operating room.
I removed the old gloves I was wearing when I noticed the blood trail stretching across the floor behind them. "Jesus, he's lost a massive amount of blood," I muttered, turning quickly to grab a fresh hairnet and another pair of sterile gloves.
Doctor Jang was already barking orders, snapping on his own gloves with practiced speed.
“He needs a transfusion right now. Why wasn’t that started in the ambulance?” Doctor Jang asked, snapping at the paramedics.
The paramedic took a deep breath. “His blood type is O-negative, sir. We couldn’t risk it without a compatible match on hand.”
I stepped closer to the gurney, my eyes scanning the pale face beneath the oxygen mask. My stomach dropped the second recognition hit.
“Jay?” The name slipped out in a whisper before I could stop it.
It was him. Jay Park. The same sharp jawline, the same dark hair now matted with sweat and blood. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time?
Without thinking, the words tore out of me. “I’m O-negative!” My own voice in my head screamed back at me. ‘Aria?!’
Doctor Jang’s head snapped toward me. “Wait, really, Miss Choi?”
“Yes.” I answered immediately, already moving. “Perfect. Let’s do this fast,” Doctor Jang said, already prepping the line.
I followed Nurse Hyejung down the corridor to the blood-draw room. The needle went in smoothly, but after about ten minutes the fatigue started creeping in. My head felt heavy, my limbs sluggish.
“You knew that man, didn’t you?” Nurse Hyejung asked, her tone too casual for the situation. “No.” I said automatically. “Yes you do. You said his name; not his government name, his English name!” she pressed, clearly enjoying the chance to pry.
I sighed. Old women loved sticking their noses in other people’s business. “We went to high school together.”
“Was he your boyfriend?” she teased. “Far from it. We hated each other. Still do. He was mean to me. We were enemies.” I said flatly.
“Whatever you want to call it, hun.” Nurse Hyejung chuckled.
After the Fifteen minutes she pulled the needle out and handed me a large bag of my own blood. “That’s a big donation, love. You should rest here for a bit. Orange juice and a granola bar are on the table. Take a nap. I’ll wake you when the transfusion is done.” She draped a blanket over my lap and left the room.
I didn’t want to sleep, but the moment my head touched the chair I was out cold.
“Doctor Choi. Doctor Choi.”
The voice sounded far away at first. I blinked my eyes open slowly to find Yuna leaning over me.
“How long did I sleep?” I asked, sitting up carefully. “About two hours,” she answered. “Two hours?! Why didn’t anyone wake me?” I snapped, already on my feet.
“Hey, slowly!” Yuna said, grabbing my arm to steady me. “How did the operation go on Mr. Park?” I asked. “Umm; good…” Yuna’s voice wavered.
“That wasn’t confident, Yuna. What happened?”
“Nothing! It’s just… Mr. Park wants to talk to you.” she said, sounding nervous.
“No. Why should I?” I was already annoyed. “Well, he doesn’t want to leave until he talks to you. That’s why I came to wake you up,” she explained. “Are you serious?!” I asked, irritation rising. “Yes… he said he knows you-”
I let out a frustrated scream. “AHGGHH—where is he?!”
Yuna led me down the hallway. “He’s inside here. Please be—” I didn’t let her finish. I pushed the door open and shut it behind me.
Jay stood near the window overlooking the Han River, bandages wrapped around his torso and an IV bag attached to his arm. He turned when he heard me.
“Jay, I swear to god—” I started, marching toward him. He faced me fully. The sight of him standing there, pale but upright, made me stop mid-step. “God,” I breathed.
“I want you to be my at-home nurse, Choi.” he said, voice flat, no emotion.
I ignored the request. “What the fuck happened, Jay? You come in with a stab wound and now this?”
“You’ll start today,” he said, now ignoring my questions.
“Jay.” I said, taking a deep breath to keep from saying something I’d regret. “I’m not going to be your at-home nurse.”
“I’ve already arranged everything. The hospital said I have to stay here for at least two months for recovery. I’m not doing that. So they offered me at-home nursing—”
I cut him off. “I’m not an at-home nurse, Park!”
“I know. That’s why I’m now paying for a hospital nurse,” he said casually.
“I’ll pay you 7.7 million won a day.” he said coolly.
I felt like I was going to pass out. “7…7… Day....”
“My driver will take you to your apartment to pack. You will stay at my place for the whole recovery,” he continued.
“You don’t want the job?” he asked seriously.
“No—yes. Jay, why would you—”
“Great. My driver is waiting for you downstairs,” he said, turning back to the window.
I didn’t want to argue again, so I slowly turned around and walked out of the room.
Yuna was still waiting in the hallway. “What did Mr. Park—” she started. “At-home nursing… 7.7 million won a day,” I said, mostly to myself, staring straight ahead as I walked toward the elevator.
“WHAT!” Yuna yelled. “SHHH!” I hissed at her. “That’s crazy, Doctor Choi! You’re doing it, right?” she asked.
“Well, yes, of course.” I said as the elevator doors opened.
That’s enough to pay for my mother’s bills, I thought as the elevator doors closed.
“And this will be your room for the time being.” the maid said, showing me my room after the house; mansion tour.
“It’s beautiful.” I said, staring around in awe.
“It really is. Now. I’ll give you some time to settle in. Mr. Park will be home soon from the hospital. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” she said, walking away.
The maid’s heels clicked away down the marble corridor, leaving me alone in the doorway of my new bedroom. I pushed the door shut and turned, taking in the space that dwarfed my entire apartment.
A king-sized bed with black silk sheets dominated the room, flanked by dark wood nightstands. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the private gardens below, and through the open bathroom door I glimpsed a marble tub big enough for two. I dropped my bag on the bed and wandered, my fingertips trailing over the leather couch and the expensive dresser, still struggling to accept that this was now my temporary home.
Some time later a soft knock broke my thoughts. “Miss Choi, dinner is ready.” the maid called before vanishing again.
I followed the directions toward the dining room, my footsteps echoing against the polished floors. The long table stretched out before me, but only two places were set. Jay sat with his back to me, still wearing the black dress shirt from the hospital, his posture rigid from the wounds.
“Take a seat.” he said without turning.
I settled across from him, staring down at the perfectly plated meal. Silverware clinked against porcelain as we both ate in silence. The tension pressed against my chest until I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Listen, I really appreciate this, but are you sure you want me to be your nurse?” I asked, finally lifting my eyes to him.
“Well yes, I chose you, didn’t I?” Jay replied, gaze fixed on his plate.
“Well yes, but… why, Jay? I literally don’t get it. You hated me—”
“You hated me.” he cut in, still eating.
“I think we’re done eating. Can you please clean my wounds so I can sleep?” His tone had hardened into something colder.
“Sure. That’s why I’m here.”
I followed him to his bedroom, and my jaw dropped. If my room had been impressive, this one belonged in a magazine spread. The massive bed could sleep three people, dark wood furniture gleamed under the soft lighting, and even more windows revealed the glittering city skyline below.
Jay sat on the edge of his bed while I opened my medical bag. “Oh great.” I muttered when I spotted the hospital cart already positioned beside the bed, fully stocked.
I pulled on gloves and sat down, reaching for the medication first. Before I could offer him water, Jay took the pills dry, swallowing them in one go.
“Can you lift up your shirt?” I asked.
“Can you help me just take it all off?” he said coldly.
I had forgotten that he also had a wound on his shoulder. I helped him remove his shirt, forcing myself not to stare at the defined ridges of his chest and abs. When had he gotten so ripped? I focused on the task, carefully cleaning each wound with antiseptic. Jay hissed through his teeth at the sting.
“Are you the one with the stab wound, Choi?!” Jay snapped.
“Just do what you need to do so I can sleep. ” he said, closing his eyes.
I finished wrapping the bandages in silence, then gathered my supplies. At the door, I took one last look at him sitting there, shirtless and bandaged, before leaving. Already, I hated how complicated this arrangement was going to become.
The weeks slipped by in a strange rhythm. Jay’s wounds knitted together faster than I expected, the angry red lines fading into thin, pale scars. He started leaving the house again, first for short drives, then for longer stretches that stretched into the evening. Each time he returned he looked a little more like the cocky, untouchable man I remembered from high school; shoulders squared, jaw set, that cold glint in his eyes.
My own life had never been simpler. The paycheck from this arrangement covered every single one of Mom’s hospital bills, and the mansion’s quiet luxury made the rest of the world feel far away.
We weren’t friends. Not exactly. But the sharp edges between us had dulled. He still snapped when I asked too many questions, still rolled his eyes when I fussed over his bandages, but the silence that followed those moments felt less hostile and more… comfortable.
Saturday night the house was nearly empty. Most of the staff had the weekend off, and the marble halls echoed with nothing but the low hum of the security system. I padded barefoot into the kitchen in an oversized T-shirt and shorts, craving something warm. The clock above the stove read 1:17 a.m. when the front door slammed open.
Jay’s voice tore through the quiet, followed by the heavy thud of the door. I dropped the mug I’d been reaching for and sprinted toward the foyer. A slick trail of blood glistened on the white marble, leading down the hallway like a grotesque breadcrumb path.
“Jay?!” My voice cracked as I followed the crimson line. “Jay, stop this—where are you?!”
I rounded the corner into the downstairs bathroom and froze. He was slumped against the tiled wall, one hand clamped over his side, blood seeping between his fingers. His black shirt was soaked, clinging to the hard planes of his torso.
“Stop staring and treat it, Choi!” he hissed, teeth gritted.
I bolted to my room for the medical kit, heart hammering. When I dropped back to my knees beside him, I yanked his shirt open. Fresh stitches had torn; the wound gaped angrily.
“What the HELL happened?! ” I demanded, already ripping open antiseptic wipes.
“I got stabbed. Can’t you see?!” he grunted.
I pressed gauze to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Why in God’s name were you out this late anyway?!”
“Jay, you don’t even work at night. You’re always doing… I don’t know, stuff behind a computer or whatever.” I said, still shocked by his answer. “I do that too—” Jay started.
“Jay, seriously. This is, like, the third time I’ve seen you get stabbed, as far as I know. What is this ‘work’ you keep talking about?” I asked, my voice turning serious.
“Fuck—” he hissed through the pain. “Can you just clean me up, Choi?” Jay said coldly.
“No, Jay. I’m serious. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m done working this at-home job!” I snapped, my frustration finally boiling over.
He sucked in a sharp breath as I cleaned the gash. “I run a chain, all right? ”
I stared at him, gauze forgotten in my hand. “A… restaurant chain?”
He laughed once, bitter. “No, Choi. Not restaurants.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I run a mafia chain. One of my guys screwed up a deal and the other side decided I was playing them. They came for me. Happy now?”
The word ‘mafia’ hung between us like smoke. I wanted to call it a joke, but the blood on my hands said otherwise. Jay pushed himself upright, wincing, and staggered toward his bedroom. I followed, still reeling.
“You can’t just drop that on me and walk away!” I said to his retreating back.
He didn’t answer. The door shut in my face with a soft click.
I stood there for a long minute, blood drying on my fingers, before retreating to my own room. My mind spun. Mafia. Jay Park. My high-school bully. Now mafia boss; bleeding in his own mansion because of some deal gone wrong.
I tried to sleep. The sheets felt too cold, the silence too loud. Then a low, guttural sound drifted down the hallway. Jay, in pain. I hesitated only a second before grabbing the med kit and padding barefoot to his door.
“Jay?” I knocked softly. “I heard you. Are you still hurting?”
A muffled curse, then his voice, rough. “Yeah. It’s… worse than before.”
I slipped inside. Jay lay on his massive bed, shirt discarded, fresh blood seeping through the bandage at his waist. I pulled on fresh gloves, poured two painkillers into my palm, and handed them over with a glass of water.
He swallowed them dry, eyes never leaving mine. I peeled back the old bandage, cleaned the wound again, and rewrapped it with steady hands. When I finished, I started to stand, but his fingers closed around my wrist; gentle, almost hesitant.
“The thing I said that first night...” he murmured, voice low and husky. “It was true.”
“That I only bullied you because I didn’t know how to handle what I felt.” His thumb brushed over my pulse point. “I was a stupid kid. Still am, apparently. I’m not asking you to marry me, Choi. I just… wanted you to know I always thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Still do.”
My breath caught. The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. Jay’s eyes; dark, intense, held mine like a physical touch. Then pain flickered across his face and he tried to sit up, a low growl escaping his throat.
“Is it hurting again?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“No—Yeah. But I know something that might help.”
Before I could ask what, he leaned in. His mouth crashed against mine; hot, desperate, tasting of copper and whiskey.
I froze for half a second, then melted into it, hands sliding up his bare chest, careful of the bandages. He groaned into the kiss, one arm banding around my waist to pull me closer. The kiss deepened, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. My T-shirt rode up as his fingers skimmed the bare skin of my lower back, sending sparks racing down my spine.
“Jay—” I breathed against his lips.
“Fuck, Choi—Aria.” His voice cracked on my name.
The kiss didn't stop there. Jay's mouth kept moving against mine, hungry and desperate, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn't say into the way his tongue slid against mine.
His hand stayed at my lower back, thumb stroking slow circles against bare skin while his other hand came up to cup the side of my neck. The touch was gentle despite how hard he was breathing, how his chest rose and fell against mine. Every time I tried to pull back for air, he chased my mouth, catching my bottom lip between his teeth before diving back in.
"Don't stop." he whispered against my lips, voice rough. "Just… stay like this."
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