Chapter Text
The trauma center hummed with organized chaos: monitors beeped, orders were shouted, and the scent of antiseptic mixed with burnt coffee lingered in the air. Baek Kang-hyuk moved through it all like a storm—precise, commanding, untouchable. Even here, in the controlled madness of Seoul Trauma Center, his presence felt like a gravitational pull: everything and everyone seemed to orbit around him.
Yang Jae-won watched him from across the ward, clipboard trembling slightly in his hands. He had spent years training to be competent, even confident, but Baek Kang-hyuk had a way of making him feel like he was still fumbling through medical school. The nickname Baek had given him—“Anus”—stung, and yet, in some bizarre, humiliating way, it had stuck.
“Jae-won,” Baek called, voice low and sharp, dragging him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Did you check the vitals on room five?”
“I—I did, Professor,” Jae-won stammered, blinking rapidly.
Baek’s sharp gaze lingered just a fraction too long, the kind that dissected every weakness. “Good. But not good enough. You’ll need to tighten that up if you want to survive here.”
Jae-won swallowed, nodding, already feeling the familiar mix of irritation and awe. Despite the barbed words, he’d followed Baek’s guidance to the letter in dozens of surgeries. And every time, he learned. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably.
The chaos of the day was nothing, however, compared to the official hospital announcement that had been pinned on the staff bulletin that morning. It read:
“Effective immediately, newly renovated staff apartments will be assigned exclusively to married personnel. All unmarried staff must either marry, provide a partner’s documentation, or vacate by the end of the month.”
Jae-won had stared at it for a full five minutes, mouth slightly open, heart racing, before realizing the implications.
“Professor…” he said cautiously, lowering his clipboard as Baek approached, unaware of the internal panic.
“Yes, Anus?” Baek asked, the nickname rolling off his tongue as if it were an affectionate curse.
“I… uh… the new apartments—they’re for married staff only. That… that means…”
Baek’s gaze snapped to the bulletin. His eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating. “Yes.” His tone was flat, but the gears turning behind it were relentless.
Jae-won’s heart skipped. “Do you… mean…”
“I mean,” Baek cut in smoothly, like slicing through a surgical field with scalpel precision, “that if we want to live in the new unit, we need to satisfy the policy. And there’s only one way to do that.”
“You’re suggesting…” Jae-won’s voice trailed off, disbelief painting every syllable.
Baek leaned closer, voice low, confident, unnerving. “A marriage. Fake, temporary, entirely legal.”
The words hung in the air like anesthesia. Jae-won’s mind short-circuited. The idea that he would—could—be legally married to Baek Kang-hyuk, the man who could reduce him to a trembling mess with one glance, made him dizzy.
“You can’t be serious,” he whispered, backing away slightly.
Baek’s eyebrow arched. “I am. Deadly serious. And I don’t see any other way to secure that apartment before the deadline.”
Jae-won’s hands fluttered nervously over his clipboard. “But… but… I barely survive your rounds as it is! How—how would we even…”
Baek cut him off, ever the authoritarian, ever unyielding. “We arrange it. Courthouse. Minimal fuss. Keep appearances. Do not touch. Do not flirt. Do not make it… personal. It is a contract. Nothing more.”
Jae-won’s pulse spiked, partly from sheer panic, partly from something else he didn’t want to name. “You… you mean… live together?”
Baek’s cold, steady nod made him feel like a child being handed a scalpel. “Together. For the apartment. That is all.”
The reality settled in like a tumor growing quietly in his chest. He would live with Baek Kang-hyuk. In close quarters. Sharing a kitchen. Sharing a bathroom. Sharing… a bed?
Jae-won took a step back, his voice trembling. “Professor… this is insane.”
Baek tilted his head, that faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth—the one that made him look terrifyingly in control and just the slightest bit amused. “Insane? Perhaps. Effective? Undoubtedly. And it’s either that or the fifth-floor cubicle you’ve been eyeing. Choose wisely.”
The absurdity of it—his career, his living situation, the undeniable pull he felt toward the man in front of him—left him mute.
Baek, noting the silence, straightened. “Decision made, I presume?”
“I… I suppose… yes,” Jae-won whispered. Not because he wanted to. Not because he was ready. But because somehow, with Baek Kang-hyuk, saying no didn’t feel like an option anymore.
Baek’s smirk widened slightly. “Good. The paperwork awaits. Courthouse tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
And with that, he strode away, leaving Jae-won clutching his clipboard like a life raft, mind spinning, heart racing—not just from the absurdity, but from the inexplicable, sudden thrill of proximity, of potential, of… danger.
Because if living with Baek Kang-hyuk meant anything, it wasn’t going to be simple.
It was going to be… chaos.
And somehow, terrifyingly, maybe… exciting.