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Yoongi took a breath. Then another. And, then another.
He knew this day would come. Ultimately, it always does.
As a young child his parents made sure to let him know that all good things must come to an end. Like, at playdates, when he’d have so much fun playing around with trains and legos that the four hours they set to play came to an end before he knew it, and his friend’s mother was already waiting at the door. No matter how much they begged his mother wouldn’t let them have another five minutes. Because, well. Life doesn’t give you those five minutes.
Yoongi knew this day would come but he isn’t ready.
It had become routine to go to the hospital after shifts at the gas station, falling asleep in a wooden chair with a limp hand cradled between his own. It always grounded him to feel the subtle warmth emitting from Jeongguk’s hand. It was one of the only signs Jeongguk was even still with him, other than all the machines he was wired to, constantly beeping, numbers staying the same.
Jeongguk’s hospital room is bland, to say the least. Just like his white hospital clothes the walls are white, floors are white, shiny and polished. Jeongguk’s tan died out when summer did, and he’s looking more ghostly every day that went by.
“It’s not your fault,” Namjoon had told him, the day after Jeongguk had been admitted into the hospital. “None of us knew. He didn’t tell anyone.”
Why, Ggukie?
Yoongi had almost ditched.
His reaction was immediate when he heard the soft-spoken words from the doctor over the phone.
“Is this Yoongi Min? Jeongguk Jeon is in our facility, he was admitted earlier in the morning by his mother. We regret to inform you Jeongguk’s been diagnosed with stage three brain cancer…-”
It was likely that Yoongi’s phone smashed on the fall down to the cement floor of the gas station. He didn’t even bother grabbing his coat from behind the counter when he ran out the store, going round to the back parking lot where his motorcycle sat, helmet balancing on the smooth slope of the leather seat. He shoves his helmet on his head, revving the engine before slamming his foot down, speeding down the wet pavement.
When Yoongi was outside of the hospital and the news still hadn’t really settled in. This can’t happen. Like, it just couldn’t. Jeongguk hadn’t said anything. Did he even know?
For a moment he almost didn’t go inside. He couldn’t possibly face Jeongguk then. Would he be like people he had seen on the television? Scrawny and pale and bald? He didn’t know if he’d be able to handle that.
Like every other problem in Yoongi’s life, he was going to run away from it. Getting away was always easier than facing it head-on. But, Jeongguk wasn’t a problem. Jeongguk was the love of his life.
It was then when Yoongi screwed his head on right. Jeongguk needed him.
The lady at the front desk seemed tired when he went up to her. “Who are you looking for?”
Yoongi wondered if she could tell how hard he was fighting off tears. “Uhm- Jeon. Jeongguk Jeon.” He cards his hand through his mint green hair, blinking back whatever he felt was coming on.
“Room 104, emergency care unit.”
His heart pounded in his ears the whole way up the elevator. He decided then and there he wouldn’t cry. He had to be strong. For Jeongguk.
Yoongi probably spent five minutes staring at the door handle, leading into room 104. Inside would be the truth, and there’d be no going back. Jeongguk was going to die. His bottom lip trembled when he pushed the door open, Jeongguk lying in a narrow bed, his mother crying against his step father's shoulder.
“I thought you weren’t going to come, for a moment.” Mrs. Jeon’s husband says, to which Mrs. Jeon ignores completely. You only know what you choose to pay attention to.
“He really wanted to see you.” She whispers, voice cracking.
When Yoongi turned from the two of them back to Jeongguk, he looked a little baked from the medication. Still, when he looked in the youngers' eyes he could still see those galaxies he’d always get so lost in.
Yoongi promised to himself he wouldn’t cry, but now that he’s here it seems a little easier said than done.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk utters, a small smile on his face despite the dampness of his cheeks.
Yoongi bit down on the fat of his trembling bottom lip, eyes burning as they started to well up with tears. It’s like he was stuck in place, eyes scanning over Jeongguk’s frame, wires sticking into his arms, monitors, IV drips. His worst fucking nightmare. He hears the door softly click shut behind him, Mr and Mrs Jeon stepping out.
“Hyung.” Jeongguk repeats, only this time a little more strongly.
Yoongi just breaks .
Jeongguk feels warm against him when he pulls him into his embrace, clinging onto the front of his hospital shirt like it was keeping him on earth. His whole body wracks with the force of his sobs, finally letting out what he was letting build up. Yoongi balls his fist, hitting it against Jeongguk’s chest. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jeongguk’s eyes were red when he finally got the courage to make eye contact. “I’m sorry, hyung.” Is all he utters.
“This isn’t fair. Why you? Why me? Why us ?”
“I’m sorry.”
“We were going to get out of here. J-just- just you and me and we’d buy a house and a dog.. A-and.. A-and-”
“Yoongi,” Jeongguk whispers, hugging Yoongi with even more fervour, clinging like a lifeline. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.. No,” Yoongi shakes his head. Pulls away enough to look the brunette in the eyes, cupping his salt-slick cheeks, dragging his thumbs across the apples. “You’re sick. It isn’t your fault, baby. Don’t feel bad. I- just. I just love you so much.”
“You’re the love of my life, Min Yoongi.”
“And, you’re mine, Jeon Jeongguk.”
Yoongi leaned to press their foreheads together, eyes closing for the calmest moment he’d spent in that last hour and a half.
Looking back Yoongi wasn’t ready then, and he wasn’t ready for when Jeongguk started treatment.
Yoongi had never seen him so fragile. But, he supposes that's just what cancer does to someone.
Before, before any of this Jeongguk had been the brightest star in the sea of souls in the small town they grew up in. As the youngest of their group, he always found himself having something to prove. He probably grew up faster than the rest of them did. Always trying to be better, faster, stronger. Honestly, Yoongi would have fallen for him either way.
On the inside, Jeongguk would always be that shy, sweet boy that moved in when he was eleven, the first new face in years. Ever since he overheard Yoongi in their high school music room, spending his break playing piano melodies his mother had played for him as a child, Jeongguk had followed him around like a lost puppy.
It was hard not to like the boy, even whilst trying to keep up his cold bad boy persona.
Jeongguk had kissed him first. Jeongguk was sixteen and Yoongi was eighteen, youthful and hazy. They were at their spot, an old wooden structure probably constructed for children that flanked a rocky beach. The wind was blowing gently, and Jeongguk was practically drowning in one of Yoongi’s hoodies. He threw an arm over the youngers shoulders, muttering something along the lines of, you’re my favourite, kid, when Jeongguk quickly swooped in, pressing their lips together for a hasty second. It was obviously an action he hadn’t put that much thought into at the time.
For a moment Yoongi just looked at him, and Jeongguk had thought he crossed a line. A moment later Yoongi was pinning him down against the wooden planks, kissing him breathless.
Jeongguk back then was a harsh contrast to the one now.
Jeongguk’s skin looked like it was wrapped straight around his bones, eyelids always droopy, always bed ridden. He had a silk cap over his head, because his hair had started to fall out in patches and he was embarrassed. Yoongi made sure to pepper kisses all over the soft skin, telling him he loved him with or without hair. It didn’t make him any less ethereal.
Yoongi was there when he could. Hospital bills were pricey, and Yoongi made sure he was pitching in. He felt obligated. It wouldn’t be right not to help. This is his soulmate we’re talking about. When he wasn’t working at the auto repair shop or the gas station he was with Jeongguk, helping with whatever he needed.
One night, after a particularly hard day Jeongguk didn’t fall asleep right away. Yoongi was pressed up against his back, slightly squished in the small hospital bed.
“Yoongi?” Jeongguk murmurs, testing to see if Yoongi was awake.
“Yes, angel?”
Jeongguk pauses for a moment. “When I go, please tell me you’re going to be okay.” Yoongi stiffens. He can’t say enjoys how Jeongguk started saying when instead of if.
“Let’s not-”
“No, Yoongi. You have to- you have to promise me you’re going to be able to move on. Yoongi.. You need to let me go.” Yoongi can’t see Jeongguk’s face in the dark of night, but by the way his words catch in his throat as he speaks Yoongi can guess he’s crying.
“I don’t wanna, Ggukie. Don’t wanna be here without you.” Yoongi can see his vision start to get blurry.
“You’re young, hyung. So young. Your whole life is ahead of you.”
“I’m three years older than you, I should be the one, not you.”
Jeongguk sniffles, “Don’t say that.”
“It should be. It should be me. You have such a good heart, always cared about everyone. Put everyone first. I’m just some pathetic asshole who dropped out of high school and can’t speak his feelings.”
Jeongguk openly cries now, and Yoongi can feel his heart ripping in his chest.
“You’re not. You’re not.” Jeongguk chants like a poem, like a prayer. “You’re the beautiful, talented boy I fell in love with when I was fifteen. When you’re ready, when the universe has decided it’s time, you’ll see me. Need to believe everything will be alright.”
“I can’t- I can’t.”
“You can. Yoongi, I believe in you.”
Yoongi’s silent after that.
“Yoongi?”
“Mhm?”
“If I fall into a coma I want you to pull the plug. Don’t let me stay like that too long. I don’t want us to suffer. Please, it’s- it’s my wish.”
Yoongi doesn’t respond.
“Don’t be selfish, hyung. Let me go.”
Yoongi wasn’t ready at first and he isn’t ready now.
He still isn’t ready when he’s dressed in all black, hands trembling as he holds his papers. Around him, are his friends, Jeongguk’s mother and stepfather, and some other family. Before him, is a sleek black casket, red carnations and yellow chrysanthemums in a little bouquet resting in the middle of the casket.
You can never truly be prepared for cancer. Just like you can never be ready to let go.
No matter how much you may want five more minutes, life won’t grant it to you. So, hopefully, you cherish the time life does give you.
Yoongi can proudly say he has. And, yes, his heart is broken but he knows Jeongguk watching him from the stars now, among the other angels in a much better place.