Chapter Text
Drip. Drip, drip,
Drip.
Sunghoon's head is spinning.
Drip, drip.
Stop, please.
The fluid keeps coming closer, closer, then disappears into the punctured opening under Sunghoon's thumb. Enters the cannula, then disappears. Into nowhere. Into everywhere.
"...another attack, ventricular tachycardia..."
"Jesus. He's only 21. Too young for this."
"Is it okay for patients to pass out on the first dose?"
"Not common but not quite uncommon either."
His head feels heavy as he tries to lift it, trying to process the silvery white blurs around. Spit is already forming in his throat and mouth, lubricating it for the upcoming bile.
"...dizzy," With great effort, he croaks out. Saliva leaks out a little from the side of his open mouth, but he doesn't even have energy to close it. "Gonna... Throw up..."
And then, as everything goes pitch black, he sees it again in the far away corner of his mind.
The lonesome puppy cowering in fear, the sky falling on top of him as the blinding pain hit. The world had disappeared too then, in a horrifying array of red and black.
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Park Sunghoon was nothing more than a child when he met evil.
But even before meeting it, he had it engraved in his very marrow. So much so that everytime he dug his teeth deep into his own flesh, his own being became the predator and his own being became the prey. That the heavens could implode but his precisely trained spine wouldn't bend, his eyes wouldn't shut.
He kept them open even when it terrified him. Blinding clicks and flashes in crowds you can't breathe in.
He used to glide like a swan, always poised and pure. Gentle snow. But it cuts when it becomes sharp, when it hardens from soft and pure to something lifeless, something cruel.
So that when he did encounter evil, he did so with a head tilted in wonder and lips curled in curiosity. So much was the pain of innocence, and so much was its weight, and so much was its price.
"My dear," the prerequisite of the evil sobs in front of him, tears cascading down her visage. There's another prerequisite, taking off his glasses and hiding his tears, and then there's Sunghoon, with more evil buried inside him than both of them. "My dear. This is never goodbye."
"Would never be." His gaze moves over to the view outside. Rain keeps knocking on the glass windows, bringing over the sky's tears to the still alive people of the emergency building.
Then there's also the rain falling from his sister's eyes. "You're gonna be okay. I checked the survival rate on Google, I spent all night on it. People have survived before. A very... small number but they have. You'll be okay, you'll heal."
And that isn't true.
So Sunghoon tilts his head again, opens his eyes a little wider to display their signature puppy twinkle. "Of course I am. I'm not dying before I attend your graduation party. And if that boyfriend of yours mistreats you, I'm sure as hell coming over with these IV drips if I have to. But I'll make him regret."
He adds a little smile. It's weak and powerless, and thoroughly devoid of life.
His sister accepts it anyway, smiling herself. Would mirroring be a good word to use here, even? Her smile is so lively and pure and everything Sunghoon's isn't.
That night, it rained harder than ever, thundering down on the new hospital ward they shifted him to. The skies must have fallen along with the rain, the storms could have blown away the world. But Sunghoon couldn't see or feel any of it, not with the three more attacks of atrial fibrillation that he had to go through over the night.
He blacks out again when they cardiovert him. Throws up again upon another dose of anti-arrhythmics.
Even preparing to die requires preparation of its own, after all.
Prerequisite of the prerequisite.
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Sunghoon's first memories were more feelings than sights, more thinking than speech.
The earliest things he remembers are the temperature of his mother's fingers when she hand-fed him. The temperature of her arms when she tucked him to sleep. The temperature of her voice when she sang to him.
The temperature of her words when they scorched him, the day he fractured his leg and lost his spot from the ice hockey team forever.
The love that nurtures, the love that perseveres. The love that hurts, the love that leaves. Sunghoon wonders, as he lays there sweating right after a new attack, if the oldest things that he remembers were a mere fragmentation or fabrication, rooted deeply in his own mind than reality. Born not from solid existence, but from a cold place of helpless yearning.
The sterile smell clings to him, numbing his mind to its unpleasantness. The ward remains quiet and dark, with occasional shuffling from other patients. It's full and empty. The whole ward is haunted by the demons that exist only within Sunghoon.
Bile threatens to leap up to his throat again but he closes his eyes in vexation, tries to lull his loud mind to sleep.
The last things he remembers were the loud prayer call from a patient's bed nearby. Sunghoon watches with hooded eyes as the frail old man uses his crutches to walk to the bathroom and then come back with his face, arms and feet wet. Then, as he goes down to bow deep on his prayer mat, his forehead touching the ground, Sunghoon falls asleep. His mouth burns with a bitter twinge from the medications.
Right when he thought that God left him alone in his misery, to die, and right when he thought he had dozed off only for two seconds, he wakes abruptly to the sound of blinds being yanked apart to reveal sunshine in.
He breathes.
The luminous rays of the sun greet a new day of survival.
Things have a tendency to become special when they get taken away. Or when they're about to get taken away.
So he breathes again, and lets all the light enter his pained eyes.
"Nope. Absolutely not."
"Just five minutes more, please, Noona!"
"Sunoo-yah, I'm only gonna check your temperature, oxygen and give this IV drip. You know you're supposed to take antibiotics every eight hours, hm? They're serious meds, antibiotics. Listen to Noona!"
Interested to see who was being tortured with antibiotics at seven in the morning, and who was this frank with staff to call them noona, Sunghoon glances to his right.
On the bed next to him, a nurse seems to be struggling with what looks like a huge ball of blanket. A moment later, a boy emerges from inside, a cannula in his nostrils and a pout on his face. "Please, right now I feel great! Oxygen is absolutely loving me. Please let me sleep!"
The nurse laughs kindly. "Protocol is protocol! What will I answer Dr. Choi? That I was careless with his favourite patient?"
"You're only buttering me up now. I hate antibiotics, they make my mouth all bitter and disgusting."
But the boy with blonde dyed hair, christened Sunoo or so Sunghoon heard, is already reaching for the wall oxygen outlet to remove the cannula from there and attach it instead to the portable oxygen cylinder.
"You can wash it away when Dr. Choi brings you mint choco ice cream to enjoy together," The nurse brings the familiar tray filled with needles.
Sunghoon diverts his gaze from their exchange, lets it wander in the ward where sunlight struggled to warm the gloom. He knows the feeling of having the taste in his mouth ruined, to depend on others for full mobility even though he never asked for it.
The memories of him being healthy and walking under the same sunlight, winning gold on international tournaments exist nowhere now. Or are they everywhere? Like the medicine in his veins?
"Finally," a janitor ahjumma huffs at the sight of his open eyes, pushes back her thin curly hair from her wrinkly face. "I almost cried seeing your condition. You were critical for days."
He blinks. "Days?"
"God forgive you, boy, you were out for six days! Make it a week, actually. Everyone thought you were near death. Your family didn't visit you for the last three days, they were too horrified at the sight of you all sweaty and drooly and breathless."
He feels a pang of embarrassment, and another pang of rejection. (Hurt as he may undoubtedly be, he knows he would have reacted the same himself. Perhaps he really was their son and brother).
"But you're back! Daebak!" She flashes him a grin with missing and cavitied teeth but it's wholesome and pure either way. He tries to smile in return, and this time it's less feeble and more life like.
The neighbouring patient, the whiny boy named Sunoo is scrolling on his phone while his IV drip finishes. To distract him from the bad taste, Sunghoon thinks.
He can't help but feel helplessly envious of someone who still finds joy in little things of life, still be interested in what's happening in the world.
The nurse that Sunoo calls noona now comes over to Sunghoon for his own IV. He obliges silently.
"You're awake, finally. I'll tell Sunoo once he's a little less hazy from the IV, he'll be thrilled to see you awake! He's been so concerned for you."
Sunghoon blinks again. What's up with everyone feeling so anxious for him? Was he really that serious?
"Concerned?"
"Goodness, didn't you know? (I mean, of course you didn't, you weren't even conscious but still)," She hangs the bottle on the stand, attaches the drip with his yellow cannula. "He's been telling you to stay strong and resilient everyday for a week. Even though you were barely awake."
He flinches lightly as the fluid starts entering his veins with unbelievable speed. For a fleeting second, his head spins.
"He's been your biggest cheerleader. Oh sorry, let me adjust — is it better? Sorry, it got a little too fast."
Sunghoon nods again, glances at the bottle for the last time. Next time he's awake, there's breakfast in front of him, accompanied by two enthusiastic boys around his own age in navy medical scrubs.
"Hello there! What's your name? How old are you? What are your symptoms? Have you been here long?" One of them, with a long face and bright eyes presses his enthusiastic face all over his space.
Startled, he flinches back.
"Stop it, Jake! He's only just woken up." The other boy says to him in utter exasperation. "Let him breathe. Ask these questions to Beomgyu-noona."
"We're supposed to ask these to the patients, Jay!"
"To the patients who can answer! Not the critical condition ones. I wonder why they even have him here and not in the ER. I'll go tell noona he's awake."
Sunghoon licks his lips. When was the last time he drank water?
"Here, have some, your lips are the driest in the ward," the enthusiastic boy hands him over the bottle of water.
When the water hits his dry throat, he chokes severely.
"Whoa, whoa, man, are you alright?" The calm one of them urges forward, pats Sunghoon on the back. "Easy, there!"
"Ugh." Sunghoon's voice is all croaky from lack of use. "I overstayed in the ER and everyone knows it's only just a matter of time before I die. So they wanted to get rid of me and brought me here.""
The two boys stare at him in silence.
"Uhm," the smaller and enthusiastic one of them clears his throat feebly, bottle still in hand. "We're students. From this hospital's med school. Uh, we're supposed to be on rounds on wards and ask patients questions, you know. Diagnose them and stuff."
"But I'm diagnosed?"
Jay shakes his head. "We know you are. We're not here to diagnose you, we're here to pass this semester."
"How selfish of you to take advantage of a dying man." Sunghoon teases, feeling his lips curling.
"H- Hey!" Clearly Jay wasn't expecting such a serious patient to be the jester type. "To be a doctor, you gotta be a little... A little selfish, yeah? We can't, you know, help everyone..."
"Come on, bro. I'm only kidding. You're good. So what would you like to know?"
Jake exhales. "Let's start with something simple. Uh. What's your pain level?"
"Apart from my existencial crisis? A solid seven, though it was nine when I came in."
He adds a smile. His mouth muscles tighten and twitch.
"Understandable. Kai and Taehyun were before us, they told us how critical you were... also Sunoo. Glad you're both better. Bro, let's leave him alone for now. We'll come back tomorrow when you're feeling better, Mr...?"
"Sunghoon," he supplies, teeth still bared into a tired smile. "Don't make me sound like a grandpa! I'm still in college."
"Us too. Let's go to Sunoo again, Jake. Then wrap up with ahjussi Byun, I heard he's leaving today." Jay gives him a polite smile of dismissal, already practiced. He's a doctor inside and out. Jake gives him a cheerful high five and then they're away, clutching their notebooks and pens.
Sunghoon is left with nothing but the bitter taste on his tongue and the dry, tasteless hospital breakfast. From the corner of his eye, he notices Sunoo being teased and joked around with the medical students.
Mhm, at least the milk tea is sweet. Leaves a sticky lactic aftertaste but at least it isn't medicine. Sunghoon awards himself a sugar overload; the only things not stale or dry were the sugary fruitcake and tea, and he miraculously feels hungry after encountering four, potentially five friendly people.
The sixth comes clad in white coat and black scrubs, a "Choi Soobin, Cardiologist" woven on his chest pocket. He smiles, resembling a rabbit, when he sees his patient awake after long.
"About time! This is the first ray of hope in the otherwise dark case of yours, Sunghoon-ssi, I'll be very honest. Apologies." He tilts his head and monitors Sunghoon's heartbeat rate and blood pressure. "Received your IV? Gyu? Did you give him metroprolol?"
Beomgyu-noona comes over with a flush on her face; probably from dealing with another patient. "Yes, doc. All done. He had two attacks yesterday, I can't believe he's still alive."
Still alive. But that's how he's always been. Even before getting this disease. He has always been just still alive. That's just how Sunghoon has always lived. Simple, like the colour white. A lamentable ballad of snow and ice.
Dr. Choi somberly shakes his head. "Dear, dear. Come here and give me a check up. Come up. Can you walk? No? Need me to assist you to the restroom? Okay, no need to be offended, fella, I was only asking..."
Beside him, Sunoo lets out a little chuckle, causing Dr. Choi to glance at him in endearment.
"Good morning, Dr. Choi." Sunoo greets him, and his voice is a light, fluffy flavour of cream-filled bread. What? Sunghoon tries to compose himself. Why are you being such a sweet-toothed airhead today?
"Junnie is late again, today? I swear if he keeps this up—"
"Keeps what up, Soob?" A doctor walks into the ward. He might just be wearing his scrubs and white coat and stethoscope, but he all in all looks nothing less than a model in a magazine. Sharp facial features, orange dyed hair styled, light and airy perfume diffusing off of him. This man could just enter a fashion show in Milan and no one would question him.
He has something in his hand, a bag of ice cream.
"Sorry, Sunoo! I almost forgot it and had to dash back to the store to get it for you." He smiles and puts the bag on the bed of an embarrassed and touched Sunoo.
He utters a feeble, "You didn't have to, genuinely..." But Dr. Choi Yeonjun, or as was written on his shrubs, flashes him a kind smile. Beomgyu comes running to both the doctors, with all the medical equipment.
"Soobin's patient woke up today, thank heavens, by the way, and Sunoo's being picky about his food again. I caught him trying to sneak away into the cafeteria again last night, after hours. I swear he's gotten so professional with the oxygen cannula." She flicks Sunoo lightly on the forehead as she talks, the younger flashing her a little pout.
"Mhm, all ok for now. Gyu, change the dear's vein cannula, this vein has broken." Dr. Choi Yeonjun's next orders are drowned by Sunoo's whines. "I don't want a prick again!"
"Which colour, Sunnie? Come on!"
Sunoo gives in, pretty features contorting into a long-term cute pout. "I want pink."
"Pink it is, then! What about you, Sunghoon-ssi?"
Sunghoon remembers that he's still here, that even though he's getting examined, he still needs to talk and interact. "Any. Just not pink, please."
Sunoo glares at him. "Hey! Pink is pretty. Noona, give us matching cannulas!"
"No, thanks! Blue would work. Please!" Sunghoon feels the corners of his mouth lifting, again.
The boy with the blonde-dyed hair glares at him again in silence. Sunghoon decides to tease him. "Gonna take all your good wishes and prayers back, huh?"
"No, thanks, I'm a better person than you, actually." Sunoo rolls his eyes. Such a pretty boy.
"Oxygen saturation is okay! Very nice. You're taking bronchodilators regularly?" Dr. Choi Yeonjun asks him but Beomgyu answers first.
"I take strict care of this little fluffball with extra energy. He tried to throw them away the yesterday at lunch."
"Noona!" Sunoo whines again. "Stop telling on me!"
"How else would we know that our Sunnie's taking his meds well?" Dr. Choi Soobin laughs while he examines Sunghoon.
"They taste bad." Sunoo huffs, already opening the bag of ice cream. He sighs when he brings the spoon full of mint chocolate ice cream to his lips, lashes fluttering shut in joy.
Sunghoon grimaces mid-grin, but then grins again. Turns his attention to his own doctor.
"So am I going to die today or tomorrow?"
Dr. Choi Soobin mirrors his grin. "Not today, might be tomorrow. All jokes aside, our goal is to keep you alive until you're healthy enough for surgery. You know. Septal myectomy."
Sunghoon nods, not having the faintest idea what septal myectomy could be.
"Gyu, are you ready?" Dr. Soobin yawns and checks the time. "This is the end of our night shift."
"Yes, jagi, I'm done." The nurse comes back without her white coat, lets her short black hair flow over her shoulders.
Then it becomes obvious. The ring on both of their fingers. They're married.
"Bye guys, have fun but not too much." Dr. Yeonjun laughs and moves over to the other patients. Sunoo and Sunghoon sit in comfortable silence until Sunoo offers,
"Hey, do you want a bite?"
"Mint chocolate? Ew. Keep that thing away from me."
"You know, I might seriously consider taking back all my prayers and good wishes."
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The thing about life is, it goes on.
Life doesn't stop before death, so as long as life doesn't stop, it continues. You can be angry and angsty and tired, you can go far journeys and write journals and scream into the blizzard. But you will always be back. Back to square one.
A never ending Jamais Vu.
Sunghoon learns more about happiness in the depressed ward, learns more about life on the deathbed. His routine gets painted in colourful hues of blues and greys, still less monochrome than what his default life used to be.
They're depressed colours, but Sunghoon disagrees. He's convinced of their colorfulness, thinks that they're prettier than any rainbow (other than the pride flag rainbow, cuz that one is SUPERIOR).
"I don't know. Just... Survive, I guess, for now?"
Jake puts the pen cap in between his teeth and starts writing down Sunghoon's answer. "Mental health... Gone... Destroyed..."
"What about you? What's your ambition in life?"
"If you ask my honest and very personal opinion, I just want to overdose on ramyeon and die. Oh, and I don't wanna die virgin."
Sunghoon raises his gaze to the ceiling in contemplation. "Wants to destroy both his stomach and his reproductive organs... Noted."
"Hey, don't copy my flow! You're not the one with homework and thesis side by side!" Jake's outburst is indignant. A nearby patient, an old lady, jolts awake.
"Oh my Lord! Keep your damn voice down!" Jay snaps from the neighbouring bed where he's examining Sunoo.
Jake drops his voice a little. "We got Jay calling me his lord before GTA 6. Or Blackpink comeback, any. This much loud is okay, isn't it?"
Jake gets his answer when Jay's clipboard smacks him on the head.
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What with the check ups and being the research material for Jake's and Jay's respective thesises, Sunghoon and Sunoo get no time to interact with each other. But when they do, it's on the next day from their first real conversation.
"Who's this nurse dude?"
Sunoo breathes loudly, doing the new breathing exercise Dr. Yeonjun advised him to do. "That's nurse Lee. Alternates shifts with Beomgyu. I know he's manly and stuff and you're used to Gyu Noona by now but he's really really gentle. And nice. Less stern and chaotic than her."
"You seem fond of him." Sunghoon glances at the dark ward ceiling. The only light in the ward, as always, is the one in Sunghoon's block.
"You're awake now. Wait till you talk to him. He's actually nice. He even shared some of my mint choco ice cream once, even if he doesn't like it," He then glances at Sunghoon and rolls his eyes. "Something that you need to learn and do."
"Yeah, whatever." All the sounds other than Sunoo's loud breathing quieten.
"Check in." A soft voice says. Guessing it must be the nurse Lee, Sunghoon manages to look above at the face of the man entering the light's region.
"Vitals look good." Nurse Lee is a man of gentle words and of speaking them with kindness in his voice. His eyes are big and brown and sparkly as he monitors Sunghoon's ECG. His face looks like that of an innocent doe. Good physique, tall nose and thin heart-shaped lips.
"Heeseung hyung?" Sunoo's voice enters their block from the neighbouring bed, behind drawn blinds. "Can I please go to the cafeteria? I didn't get to eat anything. I didn't want to eat dinner. Sunghoon-ssi also didn't. If you let us both go, we won't be alone, and you won't be worried or get scolded."
Heeseung's hands are exceedingly gentle wherever they graze on Sunghoon's chest. The nurse gives him a little smile of encouragement. "You're making miraculous recovery. I was there with Soobin-ssi back in the ER."
Sunghoon looks up at him. "I fainted, right?"
"Yes, but before that, you threw up. But don't worry, I washed you up and put you in hospital clothes. Then I tucked you to bed. All okay, see?"
Sunghoon flinches in cringe. "Wha- I'm so sorry."
A chuckle of disbelief. "What are you apologizing for? Come on. Don't be hard on yourself, it's natural. Besides, that's what I'm here for! But that doesn't mean I wasn't genuinely worried for you, you know? All of the staff were so sure that you were living your last moments. But I'm so glad you're making recovery at last."
Heeseung wraps up the last check ups and adjusts the drip with a tranquil smile on his face. Sunghoon wonders how scary he must look in his anger.
"Sun," Heeseung draws the blinds around Sunoo's bed to give him his final check-over of the night. "Just your last antibiotic IV, then you're free to go! Take your time but please come back before three."
"I know, I know. I won't stray anywhere too long. How can I with these heavy oxygen bags?"
"In, out, in, out. Yes. You're doing really good!"
Sunoo huffs. "When will I get this nasal cannula removed? I look ugly as fuck with this thing on."
"No, don't say that! You're a fighter and there's no pretty or ugly in fighters. Every warrior is beautiful and appreciable, you get me? Don't you dare put yourself down, not when I'm within earshot. Great, oxygen saturation is great, I'll talk to Yeonjun-ssi tomorrow, see if we can get your cannula removed if it irks you. Got your chest physio done?"
"Yeah, a med student helped with it, actually." Sunoo replies and Sunghoon smiles, remembering the two silly students, Jake and Jay, who are struggling just to pass their semester.
"Did he, now? Good. I'm supposed to check your vital signs four hours from now, both of you. Let your IV fluids finish and if you can walk after that, go to the cafeteria. Or I could bring you food from there?"
"No, please. I'm stuck in here. I wanna go outside."
Heeseung laughs, emerging from the blinds. "Whatever you please. Sunghoon is done with his IV, look! Good job!"
If Sunghoon wants to point out that it was only the fluid that had finished and that he's done nothing appreciable, he doesn't, but basks in the compliment all the same. He understands why Sunoo likes this nurse so much.
"Can you sit up?"
Sunghoon nods and gradually tries to hoist himself up on his elbows then his hips. The nausea isn't as profound as before, but it's there. His head spins and he almost falls, Heeseung only catching him in time.
"Nice and easy does it. You can't walk like this. Hang on, let me bring you a wheelchair."
"Whoa." Sunghoon says to Heeseung's back. Sunoo chuckles from nearby. "Told you so! Oh—"
A gasp. Sunghoon's head snaps up to look at the direction of Sunoo's bed, which has curtains still drawn. "You okay? Don't try anything funny, you're still getting your IV."
"No, it's done," the blinds open and Sunoo emerges with the biggest smile on his face. "I can do all sorts of stuff, you know. Remove and attach drips, oxygen etc. This isn't my first time getting these attacks."
"Attacks?" Sunghoon tilts his head in wonder.
"My disease is genetic, and there's no cure. I'm normally fine, I just have some lung problems, some allergy problems and these episodes. This is the third time I've ever ended up in a hospital, though, it was really severe. I've gotten good at accepting the hospital as my second and potentially last home."
Sunghoon watches him carry his oxygen cylinders with a little difficulty due to his weakened state. Incurable disease, near-fatal attacks, yet the spirit? The pure radiation of happiness? The liveliness of this boy? The way he stays unbelievably friendly with everyone?
It's true, then. The brightest smiles indeed hide the worst pain.
"Here you are," Heeseung steers the wheelchair closer. "Sunoo, you're not gonna get nebulized?"
"At three. With the check up."
"Okay." Heeseung helps hoist up Sunghoon and places him gently down on the wheelchair with gentle arms. The latter can't help but feel limp and his own helplessness almost drives him to tears.
But he swallows them down, tries to tell life to wait and wait. For what, he doesn't quite know, because helplessness follows you everywhere. There will always be a part of you that is unbelievably vulnerable, that could never afford to be bared into the wind. There will always be a spot where anyone can hurt you, and just this haunting knowledge alone makes living terrifying in itself.
Sunghoon huffs with fatigue. If his current condition is this, then what must have been his critical condition? He doesn't blame his family for not visiting anymore, it must have been a total horror.
"All ready?" Sunoo pants, slightly breathless. "Oh, these are so heavy..."
"Give your cylinders to me." Sunghoon looks up at him through tired eyes. "I'll keep them secure..."
Sunoo's eyes become honey as his cheeks puff up and lips smile. "Thank you, honestly." He hands the heavy cylinders to Sunghoon, who holds them on his lap. Keeps a hand firmly on them, then looks up to see if Sunoo's cannula is okay, that it's not twisted in a weird angle.
Sunoo takes hold of his wheelchair.
"Bye, Heeseung hyung," He says, eyes still honey. "Expect us around three."
Heeseung gives them a little wave before heading to the old lady's bed. "If you don't show up by then, I will personally bring all the equipment to the cafeteria. Don't try to escape. I will find you. Have fun!"
Sunghoon nods and tries to say a word of reassurance, but then Sunoo steers him away, out of the ward, leaving the darkness, the beeping machines and the groaning patients behind.
Having the strange desire to laugh, Sunghoon marvels at the equilibrium, the irony of his and Sunoo's situation right now. He has Sunoo's lifeline, one cylinder from which he is breathing, the other cylinder as extra in his arms in case the current one runs out. Sunoo, in turn, has his lifeline as he himself can't walk, can't even stand on his feet for more than two seconds.
You trust me so I trust you. You keep me alive because I do it to you too.
You have my universe cradled in the palms of your cold hands, my weakened face a mere shadow in your honey glazed eyes. I have my arms wrapped around your world as it stays on my lap.
I would never let it collapse. Would never, ever let you lose your breath for a second.
And Sunghoon hopes, in all that he has in himself, that Sunoo feels the very same.
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When Sunghoon sees the reflection of himself in the shiny mirror of the elevator, a frail ghost with deep eyebags stares back at him.
Sunoo must have noticed him staring, because he says, "Sunghoon. Hyung, since we're neighbours. Don't let your current state get you down! It happens. Just let it pass."
He must, of course, be saying it because he's experienced. His own eyebags do not affect him, and fail to dim his luminous radiance. Sunghoon, however, has never been a bright person, never been acceptable unless he were the winner on ice.
Gold medals and platinum performances were the only things that ever validated Sunghoon's otherwise awkward and dull existence. If he won first place, he won't have to smile forcefully. Nobody would care, then, that his eyes don't shine and his lips don't lift — that his tongue doesn't form words more than the necessary talk.
They wouldn't stare at his pale starved face, then. They would look only at the heavy gold just above his disease-stained, swollen heart, and decide that they want to take photos. Write articles, be fans. Decide that he's such a humble, useful person in society.
The younger turns his wheelchair around to make it face the door. The door is also spotless to the point of reflection, therefore, Sunoo puts his hands on his eyes, shielding Sunghoon from his own self. "No. Good vibes only."
Sunghoon smiles subtly into the own touch. No mirror in this universe can ever contain the sheer evil of him. It would shatter.
The only person who can contain Sunghoon is himself.
Yet he tilts his head in half wonder, half adoration. "Sunoo-ssi. It won't make a difference." Beautiful or not, I'm gonna hate myself either way. "I've always been a little weak anyway."
The devil whispers into his ear. He tilts his head, humors the devil. The devil tells him his new mission.
The devil tells him not to destruct buildings or to kill people or wreak havoc.
The devil tells him to grab hold of the smaller hands on his eyes in his own bigger ones with all the care in his world, bring them close to his lips with every drop of affection he possesses and let them melt like gold as he kisses them.
Which more or less is the same thing.
"Here we are. Ground floor! The radiation oncology building has an amazing cafeteria next to it. I've only come here once, but their food is so nice." Sunoo pants a little.
Sunghoon looks up at him. "Is it a bit heavy? I can steer it myself if you—"
"No," says Sunoo firmly, shaking his head and frowning. "It's only because even a small effort is making me breathless. But no need to worry! My tests are perfect. And I have this baby right here," he pats the cylinder on Sunghoon's lap. Their hands brush.
Dear devil, would forearm do?
"I know my way around here. Let's find a table."
When they enter, it's like someone has dragged Sunghoon from under a grave to life. The cafe still had a few people inside; some doctors, some nurses, even three patients in their hospital clothes deep in discussion. The air is warm, lights cozy.
But it's so alive, you wouldn't believe that it belongs to a building where cancer patients are treated.
"Let's get you settled on a seat first."
"No. I'm not letting you do even a single bit of exertion without me." Sunghoon's reply is as firm as Sunoo's from earlier. "I have your cylinders, how will you go anywhere without me?"
"Come on, hyung, the cannula has to be removed for the time that I eat. I'm not entirely dependent on it," Sunoo explains but he's already moving with Sunghoon to the counter.
Sunghoon tilts his head (yet again). "Aren't you?"
"Goodness, no. I wear it because I had an episode of respiratory failure once, so everyone is scared of my lung attacks. Everytime I go through a severe allergy or CF attack, they make me wear this cannula for oxygen all the time to not take risks. My lungs are unpredictable."
The black-haired boy blinks once up at the blonde, and lets him order his food.
"Sunoo, you never told me your disease."
"Cystic Fibrosis. CF for short. Do you want spicy bibimmyeon?" Sunoo's eyes never leave the counter. Sunghoon's eyes never leave Sunoo.
"Nah. Do they have kimchi fried rice? Order extra yangnyeom along with that."
"Gotcha. We'll order dessert later if we manage not to throw up alongside."
"Sir yes sir," Sunghoon lets a smile dance on his lips at the other boy's wholesome cuteness as he steers them both to an empty table with soft cushiony seats.
"I'll have to help you, won't I?" Sunoo smiles at him like an endearing fox, takes the cylinders from him and puts them gently on the table, taking care of his cannula.
When his hands wrap around Sunghoon's torso, they're even more gentle, so much so that Sunghoon feels safe to wraps his arms around his neck.
Sunoo all but lifts Sunghoon up and hoists him on a seat. He then takes a seat opposite. Takes out his hand sanitizer, helps some on both their hands.
Dear devil, if I do it now, I might poison myself and die.
Then he pulls a dustbin right below the table, brings their hands right above it, and washes them with water. Brings out his anti bacterial soap paper, hisses a "shhh!" and helps them both wash their hands discreetly.
Sunghoon can't find it in himself to give a fuck about cafeteria rules, they're only washing hands. He's so fucking endeared.
So.
Fucking.
Endeared.
"You know, you look really really adorable when you do this." Sunoo smiles at him; and honestly, Sunghoon has forgotten how Sunoo looks like not smiling or laughing.
"Do what?"
"Tilt your head to the side. Your eyes become all twinkly and you look just like a puppy. Curious poodle."
How accurate.
"Curious white poodle."
How so accurate.
Sunghoon tilts his head again, gives Sunoo a pleased, lopsided grin. "I have a habit of tilting my head, actually, but the puppy thing's new. Do I really do?"
"Yes. Oh, the food is here. I'm so hungry and it's midnight already, my sister will kill me if she finds out I ate after nine — Minjeong is like, the Korean thewizardliz. Major wonyoungist." Sunoo yaps, taking off his cannula carefully while Sunghoon receives their food and sets down the table, careful of the oxygen cylinders.
Sunoo notices Sunghoon's action so he takes the cylinders off the table and puts them on the wheelchair. "We don't need them right now," he elaborates. "Right now we're not ill, we're not neighbours. We're us and we're eating together. Cheers!"
Dear devil, can I just snatch his hands away from him and kiss them right here?
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"Mine's genetic too, but they never found out until last year. Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy... Or was it?"
Sunoo lets out a little giggle beside him, as Heeseung helps him with his nasal cannula. "You nearly almost died because of this disease, literally lived and died every moment for a week and you don't even know its name?"
Sunghoon's little grin is sheepish. "Not like I could care less about it. If I died, what would it matter if I knew what killed me anyways, right? And I was so sure I'd die."
"But you didn't," Heeseung intervenes. "You lived, and we're all so grateful. I must be honest, I was scared myself. I've never seen a case this bad. Teaches us to never take life for granted, hm?" He smiles at Sunoo, then at Sunghoon.
Is it bad if Sunghoon takes it for granted anyway?
"Now, it's time for bed. Today was okay but don't stay up late again, alright? Beomgyu will take over at eight in the morning and check your vitals again."
Then the nurse turns off the lights from both beds, leaving them in the dark.
For the first time in a week, Sunghoon sleeps peacefully.
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