wip; doctor doctor feel good
please don't take this seriously
i'm a mess, but i trust you'll make me better
in which i attempt to write pediatrician!pcy quickfic but it all denigrated bc of my lack of sleep
g; 1.3k; chanyeol-centric (tiny bit of chansoo); unfinished
He didn’t actually plan on being a doctor or anything. Not to say the doctor life just waltzed in and fell into his lap or anything because Chanyeol did study his fucking ass off for his MCATs and his licensing examination and his junior residency--the doctor’s life is not a picnic, that’s for sure--but, he certainly didn’t choose it.
Chanyeol was actually a music comp major during his undergrad years, and to be honest, he’d expected to go full-throttle into the musicians’ world, starving artist stereotype and all, right until he’d hit his senior year of college and it became evident that even music majors at his university needed general science courses to graduate.
So, like any other panicking senior in his place, Chanyeol scrambled for the easiest and most readily-available gen-ed course: general chemistry. He’d never taken it before in his high school years either, opting for the more ubiquitous and easy-going earth sciences and biology, so this was his first time ever entering the world of hard sciences. Given all the horror stories Kyungsoo and Jongdae used to bring back with deaden eyes after midterm week, Chanyeol thought he’d probably flunk lower than his own baritone register.
Chanyeol’s actually somewhat of a genius, much to everyone’s visible and gawking surprise--which, fuck them because he can be smart when he wants to, okay, whatever. It was rather surprising to him too, honestly, because his past experiences with the field of science, while not terrible, were nothing to really write home about.
But chemistry, though. Chemistry opened up a door Chanyeol didn’t even know existed within him. Everything about it grasped at him, from stereoisomers to buffers to equilibrium equations; going through his problem sets gave him the same kind of zen feeling that came with composing music. It just felt so right.
He ended up horning in as many sciences classes as possible his last year, desperately searching for that thrill of solving wave mechanics equations and writing through scores of organic reactions; Chanyeol became a bit of a popular face in the chemistry department for the short time he’d been there, with his unnerving wide smiles in the face of the other slacken faces of chem majors and constant cheer. Graduated with a minor, too, in chemistry, which was almost unheard of from a senior university student who’d never dipped his toes in science before this point.
(“He’s, what do you call those people, Kyungsoo, you know, those genius people who’re only good at like one thing,” Jongdae had said once, a month before graduation, at their regular hangout spot at the uni bar.
Kyungsoo had rolled his shoulders and tipped a sardonic eyebrow at a bashful Chanyeol.
“Idiots,” he’d replied with a knock back of his tequila. Chanyeol’d rolled his eyes and kicked him under the bar table.
“Savants, actually,” Chanyeol’d corrected with a canine-bearing grin and a crunch of his celery appetizer. Jongdae had laughed and flapped his hands dismissively.
“Idiot suits you better.”)
-
The doctor thing, though.
Long story short, he couldn’t save a little girl’s life when he had the chance but not the skill nor the knowledge, and he’d watched, helpless and so deadened, as the paramedics rushed her body away to a place where someone else could.
There are things that stay with you, dig underneath your nails and slip into your bloodstream, parasitic and obstinate.
Powerlessness had struck him cold in the eye and lodged itself into his cytoskeleton whole.
(Kyungsoo had held his hand throughout the entire operation, roused from his sleep at 2AM because of a quiet phone call, and sat with him until dawn had broke through the uneasy haze of night. He’d been steady and sure in his grip, voice calm the few times Chanyeol had managed to crank his mouth open to run him off back to bed.
“She’s gonna be okay. You’re both gonna be okay,” had been his quiet words. Even after the operating surgeon had come out and informed them both of her tenacity and continued life, Kyungsoo had been unflappable, holding onto a sobbing Chanyeol and tucking him back into bed the morning after.
“I’m gonna fix this,” Chanyeol had croaked, voice coarse and almost beaten out of existence, just as Kyungsoo had got to the bedroom door. “I’m gonna make everything okay from now on.”
Kyungsoo had broke into a watery smile at that.
“That’s why you’re an idiot.” Chanyeol breathed a laugh. “You always make everything better in the end.”)
-
Chanyeol breezes in through the door of the examining room with a paper clipboard in hand and a wide smile. The slouching little boy on the examining bed perks up at his appearance, much to his anxious mother’s relief, and raises his arms wildly in the arm.
“Hyung! Hyung! Look at my arm, hyung, it’s all better now, right? I can get the cast off now, can’t I? Please, hyung, please?”
Chanyeol laughs, a big burst of amusement, and sets his clipboard down on the stand desk by the cabinets. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little scamp. How’s the treehouse coming along, Byunghun? You give your poor mother anymore grief?” He gives her a wink, and rummages around the drawers for a pair of disposable gloves.
“He’s been bouncing off the walls, Park-paksanim. I was afraid he’d actually break another wrist just from trying to keep still,” his mother jokes, patting her son. Byunghun wiggles in his seat impatiently.
“Mark got a new scooter last week, hyung, and he said I could ride it once I got better! I’m better now, right? Right?” he whines as Chanyeol snaps his gloves on. Chanyeol scrunches his face in an exaggerated thinking expression.
“Well, we’re just gonna have to see now, aren’t we?”
Byunghun leaves the clinic with a bounce in his step and a freed arm, dragging his mother out in tow. Chanyeol stands by the receptionist desk, waving a cheerful goodbye, and turns to his receptionist when door closes behind the couple.
“Any more patients for the day, oh beautiful secretary of mine?” he asks with a waggling eyebrow.
“I’m filing a sexual harassment report on your ass,” his doe-eyed receptionist says with a serene smile. “Right after I bankrupt you and move all the money to my offshore Caymans account. Also, Jane Jeong’s coming in today around 3; her mom thinks she’s got the flu and wants to check in with you.”
Chanyeol places a fluttering hand to his heart with a dramatic sniff. “Oh, Luhan, you break my heart with your harsh words. I may never recover.”
Luhan laughs as he types on the keyboard of his desktop. “Jongdae called in early; you free for lunch at 12?”
“Well, given that the office is currently a ghost town,” Chanyeol helpfully indicates to the empty waiting room with a flourishing hand, “I’d say I’ve got some time. You wanna come with?”
“Like I don’t spend enough time with your sorry ass?” Luhan quips, stopping his fingers to lean his chin against a propped-up fist. “Nah, I’m good. Yixing’s dropping by with take-out later.”
Chanyeol leans over the desk with a leer. “Oh, Yixing’s coming over, huh. Make sure you sanitize everything when you’re done.” Luhan rolls his eyes and punches Chanyeol in the shoulder lightly.
“This is a children’s clinic, you pervert. Who let you near children, god,” Luhan says with a grimace. Chanyeol laughs and raises his hands in good-natured surrender.
“I’m a real-life Peter Pan, you know. I never grew up,” he says with a cheeky smile.
“I can’t believe you managed to pass med school,” Luhan snarks. Chanyeol shrugs, shoving his hands into his doctor’s jacket’s pockets.
“Kyungsoo says the same thing,” he says fondly. “It’s so nice to know you guys have such faith in my abilities.”
Luhan crinkles his eyes. “What are friends for?”
i literally don't know what to say
i'm a mess, but i trust you'll make me better
in which i attempt to write pediatrician!pcy quickfic but it all denigrated bc of my lack of sleep
g; 1.3k; chanyeol-centric (tiny bit of chansoo); unfinished
He didn’t actually plan on being a doctor or anything. Not to say the doctor life just waltzed in and fell into his lap or anything because Chanyeol did study his fucking ass off for his MCATs and his licensing examination and his junior residency--the doctor’s life is not a picnic, that’s for sure--but, he certainly didn’t choose it.
Chanyeol was actually a music comp major during his undergrad years, and to be honest, he’d expected to go full-throttle into the musicians’ world, starving artist stereotype and all, right until he’d hit his senior year of college and it became evident that even music majors at his university needed general science courses to graduate.
So, like any other panicking senior in his place, Chanyeol scrambled for the easiest and most readily-available gen-ed course: general chemistry. He’d never taken it before in his high school years either, opting for the more ubiquitous and easy-going earth sciences and biology, so this was his first time ever entering the world of hard sciences. Given all the horror stories Kyungsoo and Jongdae used to bring back with deaden eyes after midterm week, Chanyeol thought he’d probably flunk lower than his own baritone register.
Chanyeol’s actually somewhat of a genius, much to everyone’s visible and gawking surprise--which, fuck them because he can be smart when he wants to, okay, whatever. It was rather surprising to him too, honestly, because his past experiences with the field of science, while not terrible, were nothing to really write home about.
But chemistry, though. Chemistry opened up a door Chanyeol didn’t even know existed within him. Everything about it grasped at him, from stereoisomers to buffers to equilibrium equations; going through his problem sets gave him the same kind of zen feeling that came with composing music. It just felt so right.
He ended up horning in as many sciences classes as possible his last year, desperately searching for that thrill of solving wave mechanics equations and writing through scores of organic reactions; Chanyeol became a bit of a popular face in the chemistry department for the short time he’d been there, with his unnerving wide smiles in the face of the other slacken faces of chem majors and constant cheer. Graduated with a minor, too, in chemistry, which was almost unheard of from a senior university student who’d never dipped his toes in science before this point.
(“He’s, what do you call those people, Kyungsoo, you know, those genius people who’re only good at like one thing,” Jongdae had said once, a month before graduation, at their regular hangout spot at the uni bar.
Kyungsoo had rolled his shoulders and tipped a sardonic eyebrow at a bashful Chanyeol.
“Idiots,” he’d replied with a knock back of his tequila. Chanyeol’d rolled his eyes and kicked him under the bar table.
“Savants, actually,” Chanyeol’d corrected with a canine-bearing grin and a crunch of his celery appetizer. Jongdae had laughed and flapped his hands dismissively.
“Idiot suits you better.”)
-
The doctor thing, though.
Long story short, he couldn’t save a little girl’s life when he had the chance but not the skill nor the knowledge, and he’d watched, helpless and so deadened, as the paramedics rushed her body away to a place where someone else could.
There are things that stay with you, dig underneath your nails and slip into your bloodstream, parasitic and obstinate.
Powerlessness had struck him cold in the eye and lodged itself into his cytoskeleton whole.
(Kyungsoo had held his hand throughout the entire operation, roused from his sleep at 2AM because of a quiet phone call, and sat with him until dawn had broke through the uneasy haze of night. He’d been steady and sure in his grip, voice calm the few times Chanyeol had managed to crank his mouth open to run him off back to bed.
“She’s gonna be okay. You’re both gonna be okay,” had been his quiet words. Even after the operating surgeon had come out and informed them both of her tenacity and continued life, Kyungsoo had been unflappable, holding onto a sobbing Chanyeol and tucking him back into bed the morning after.
“I’m gonna fix this,” Chanyeol had croaked, voice coarse and almost beaten out of existence, just as Kyungsoo had got to the bedroom door. “I’m gonna make everything okay from now on.”
Kyungsoo had broke into a watery smile at that.
“That’s why you’re an idiot.” Chanyeol breathed a laugh. “You always make everything better in the end.”)
-
Chanyeol breezes in through the door of the examining room with a paper clipboard in hand and a wide smile. The slouching little boy on the examining bed perks up at his appearance, much to his anxious mother’s relief, and raises his arms wildly in the arm.
“Hyung! Hyung! Look at my arm, hyung, it’s all better now, right? I can get the cast off now, can’t I? Please, hyung, please?”
Chanyeol laughs, a big burst of amusement, and sets his clipboard down on the stand desk by the cabinets. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little scamp. How’s the treehouse coming along, Byunghun? You give your poor mother anymore grief?” He gives her a wink, and rummages around the drawers for a pair of disposable gloves.
“He’s been bouncing off the walls, Park-paksanim. I was afraid he’d actually break another wrist just from trying to keep still,” his mother jokes, patting her son. Byunghun wiggles in his seat impatiently.
“Mark got a new scooter last week, hyung, and he said I could ride it once I got better! I’m better now, right? Right?” he whines as Chanyeol snaps his gloves on. Chanyeol scrunches his face in an exaggerated thinking expression.
“Well, we’re just gonna have to see now, aren’t we?”
Byunghun leaves the clinic with a bounce in his step and a freed arm, dragging his mother out in tow. Chanyeol stands by the receptionist desk, waving a cheerful goodbye, and turns to his receptionist when door closes behind the couple.
“Any more patients for the day, oh beautiful secretary of mine?” he asks with a waggling eyebrow.
“I’m filing a sexual harassment report on your ass,” his doe-eyed receptionist says with a serene smile. “Right after I bankrupt you and move all the money to my offshore Caymans account. Also, Jane Jeong’s coming in today around 3; her mom thinks she’s got the flu and wants to check in with you.”
Chanyeol places a fluttering hand to his heart with a dramatic sniff. “Oh, Luhan, you break my heart with your harsh words. I may never recover.”
Luhan laughs as he types on the keyboard of his desktop. “Jongdae called in early; you free for lunch at 12?”
“Well, given that the office is currently a ghost town,” Chanyeol helpfully indicates to the empty waiting room with a flourishing hand, “I’d say I’ve got some time. You wanna come with?”
“Like I don’t spend enough time with your sorry ass?” Luhan quips, stopping his fingers to lean his chin against a propped-up fist. “Nah, I’m good. Yixing’s dropping by with take-out later.”
Chanyeol leans over the desk with a leer. “Oh, Yixing’s coming over, huh. Make sure you sanitize everything when you’re done.” Luhan rolls his eyes and punches Chanyeol in the shoulder lightly.
“This is a children’s clinic, you pervert. Who let you near children, god,” Luhan says with a grimace. Chanyeol laughs and raises his hands in good-natured surrender.
“I’m a real-life Peter Pan, you know. I never grew up,” he says with a cheeky smile.
“I can’t believe you managed to pass med school,” Luhan snarks. Chanyeol shrugs, shoving his hands into his doctor’s jacket’s pockets.
“Kyungsoo says the same thing,” he says fondly. “It’s so nice to know you guys have such faith in my abilities.”
Luhan crinkles his eyes. “What are friends for?”
i literally don't know what to say