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“Sieun-ah, are you tired?”
The voice is a low melody, an ache in his heart; Sieun’s heartbeat drums louder and quicker as he stirs awake. He lifts his head off his textbook, finding that he’s fallen asleep on a chair with his textbook on a bed just below Suho’s feet.
Suho stares back at him with a small smile and weary eyes. He’s not wearing an oxygen mask, nor tied up to machines. There is a faint beeping of heart rate monitors, but it’s from outside the room. Suho, too, seems to have also just woken from a nap. He’s still wearing the damning hospital gown, on a hospital bed, with a hospital blanket draped over him.
“Yeah,” Sieun says, as he rubs his eyes and temples, “What time is it?
Sieun’s fingers find their way to Suho’s hand, just resting on top of his backhand. Suho, in return, clasps Sieun’s hand. Gently, barely, but enough. It’s a thing they do now. Even now, three weeks after Suho woke up from his coma, Sieun fears he might have been dreaming of Suho’s wake. In his dreams, he never felt Suho’s warmth. When their hands are clasped palm-to-palm, he can convince himself this is real. The ache in his heart turns to relief.
“It’s past ten,” Suho answers.
Sieun lets out a little groan, which makes Suho’s smile grow. Suho lets go of his hand.
“Doesn’t the last bus leave soon?” Suho asks when he sees that Sieun is slow to close his textbooks. Sieun hums in reply, but he doesn’t hasten.
“What is it? You don’t want to leave?” Suho asks in the teasing way he always did. Leaving Suho has always been hard, but every passing night when Suho was awake, Sieun found himself more and more reluctant to leave. Leaving Suho behind was tolerable when his grandma stayed the night. At least Seiun didn’t have to worry if Suho felt lonely. Suho, the ever-loving grandchild he was, couldn’t bear to see Halmeoni cram herself on the small, foldable bed at the edge of the hospital room. Suho insisted she sleep at home, so she doesn’t get back pain.
Sieun swallowed; His feet felt stuck in place. Despite every logical part of his brain begging him to catch the last bus, he mutters, “Yeah.”
Pink began to spread at the tips of Suho's ears.
“If it’s okay with you, can I stay? Just tonight.” Sieun feels warmth rush over him, too. He quickly adds, “You can say ‘no,’ of course,”
Suho grabs a pillow from underneath him and throws it at Sieun. “How could I say no to you?”
Sieun tries to suppress a smile.
Sieun shoots his mom a text saying, “I’m staying with a friend.” He doesn’t wait to see her reply.
It’s a Friday. He knows his mom is making an effort to understand him and his change in routine now that Suho is awake. As long as his hospital visits aren’t impeding on his attendance to school and cram school, she wouldn’t nag. Sieun doesn’t mind hearing her complaints if it could mean just a couple extra minutes with Suho.
He tries to focus on his textbook again when a nurse comes in to help Suho to the bathroom.
“Can I help?” Sieun asks when she adjusts Suho’s bed to a sitting position.
“Sure, Sieun,” she says. She’s middle-aged and greying, one of the more patient nurses at this hour of the night. Many nurses have gotten familiar with Sieun over the two years of Suho’s hospitalization. They looked over him with kind eyes, always reassuring him that Suho’s vitals were stable when he was in a coma.
Suho hasn’t gotten any movement back in his legs yet. His muscles had atrophied, but his doctor is optimistic that a couple of months in physiotherapy would restore his movement for the most part. Again, Seiun's heart ached when Suho's face scrunched, trying to force his leg off the bed but failing. He lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, you have to see me this way.” He says. Sieun only frowns. The nurse asks Siuen to hold the wheelchair while she helps Suho into it.
While Suho uses the bathroom, the nurse brings Sieun a new toothbrush.
“Thank you,” Sieun politely bows, but she cuts him off
“No, please. I’m really glad you’re staying with him tonight. Don’t tell him I told you this but every night before be,d he just keeps chirping and chirping about when he’s going to see you next. He must like your company.” She winks at him.
Sieun is not stupid. He sees Juntae and Gotak giving each other a knowing look whenever Sieun initiates physical touch with Suho, and Suho only. He knows what his mom’s eyeroll means when he says he’s visiting his friend. He knows what Baku is insinuating when he says that Suho’s gaze is only ever on him. He even knows what it means when Suho turns pink or when his heart monitor speeds up for no apparent reason.
Everyone knows that Suho is special to Sieun. It is becoming harder and harder to ignore that Suho felt the same way.
***
The day the hospital called him, letting him know that his Ahn Suho woke up, Sieun ran faster than he thought he was capable of. Even Baku struggled to keep up. The memory of seeing Suho was muddled by tears, the sounds of his own sobbing, and Suho’s hands that would not stop comforting him. He felt whole again.
Being with Suho again was enough. Hearing his voice, his laughter, and responding to him was all Sieun ever wished for.
.
But Suho had two years stolen from him. When Sieun came from school to visit Suho, he asked what had happened at school and what he had done while he was asleep. Sieun only ever told him the good things. How Baku's basketball team managed to lose, or how Juntae’s anime club was doing everything in their power to recruit Sieun. Suho listened attentively, laughing when appropriate, but still, Sieun found a flickering of sadness in Suho’s gaze. On top of that, Suho couldn’t walk without assistance or hold a pencil for longer than 5 minutes. He couldn’t help but feel he was responsible for each day Suho spends at the hospital.
“I thought I wouldn’t feel guilty anymore after he woke up,” Sieun confessed to Humin. “I feel it more than ever before,”
They sat in the hospital cafeteria after the staff had asked Seiun to leave so they could do further tests on Suho.
Baku nodded, “Recovery is going to be rough in the beginning for him and even for you. I don’t think Suho blames you at all. I mean, he’s obviously so fond of you.”
“That hurts even more. Despite everything I did to him, he doesn’t hate me. I feel like the worst person alive,” Sieun buries his head into his hands. “And I hate how much I love him. I knew I liked him, but I feel it so much more after seeing his sweet eyes and hearing his stupid voice again.”
Baku just ruffled his hair with a sad smile, “I can’t believe our Ice Princesses can be so warm.”
“Not helpful,” Sieun sniffed.
“I don’t have all the answers,” Baku shrugged, “But I don’t think you’re wrong for loving him. You’re allowed to be happy.”
“I want to be with him so badly. I’ve waited two years, you know?”
“I know,” Baku smiles.
“How can I want him to hate me and love me at the same time?”
“Which one would you prefer?”
Sieun doesn’t hesitate to answer, “The latter.” After a moment, he continues, “Suho only knew me for 40 days before…I had two years to sort my feelings. I shouldn’t rush Suho to catch up to me. Not when my own love is tangled with guilt.”
***
Suho wheels out from the bathroom, his hair slightly damp, wearing a fresh hospital gown. “Your turn!”
Sieun is quick, just using the toilet and brushing. He removes his school uniform shirt and replaces it with the same hoodie he was wearing on top of it.
“No skin care, no nothing?” Suho teases as Sieun leaves the bathroom.
“Come sit here,” Suho motions to his bed. He was sitting, propped up by the mattress. Reluctantly, Sieun listened. “I asked Grandma to buy some skincare since the air is really dry here.”
“It’s okay, I-”
“The nurses asked me to work on my motor skills. Let me do it.”
Sieun faked a loud sigh. “Fine,” he let himself be pulled into the center of the bed. He sits perpendicular to Suho, in between his legs, his own draped carefully over one of Suho's. He turns to face Suho.
Suho reached into his bedside table. “First, put this headband on.”
It’s a pink fuzzy headband. After Suho passes it to Sieun, he holds it with a confused and helpless expression.
“Some things really never change,” Suho sighs, taking the headband back. He puts it around Sieun’s neck and lifts it back up so that Sieun's forehead is exposed.
“Cute,” Suho awed. “Damn, I wish I had my phone to take a picture of this.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” Sieun says, “I left you some texts, but please don’t read them. I was just…being a lot.”
“Why? Did you confess your undying love for me?”
Seiun stared. Suho said it nonchalantly, without a care in the world. But his Adam's apple bobbled, and he busied himself with twisting a white container’s cap, opening it and closing it and opening it again.
“It’s just some thoughts I had while going through a hard time.” Sieun decides to say. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”
Suho takes out a dollop of cream and applies a dot to Sieun's forehead, both cheeks, his chin, and finally his nose. “This moisturizer has hyaluronic acid and niacinamide. Don’t know what that means, but it makes my skin feel super soft.”
Sieun cups Suho’s face, his thumb grazes Suho’s cheek before promptly returning. “You’re right,” Sieun whispers. Suho’s skin was extraordinarily smooth.
Suho uses his middle and index fingers to spread the moisturizer over Sieun's face. Suho is focused. Sieun notices how Suho’s fingers tremble slightly on his skin. Sieun's eyes find their way towards the mole beneath Suho’s left eye. So cute, Sieun thinks.
Suho gulps when he’s finished. They hold eye contact for a second too long.
“Oh!” Suho shifts his eyes, and Sieun lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I have Aquaphor.” Sieun doesn’t like the direction this was going in, at least that’s what he tells himself.
“I noticed you scratch your neck a lot. Do you mind if I put this in that area?” Suho asks. Sieun simply nods in fear that something stupid will spill out of his lips. Suho gently tilts Sieun's head to the left. And Siuen swears every cell in his body is ignited. The skin under Suho’s fingers burns. God, if it wasn’t for the thick cream, he would be absolutely done for.
Then, Suho’s eyes fall on Sieun's lips. Instinctively, Sieun bites them. He feels how chapped they’ve become. Suho squirts a little more Aquaphor on the tip of his index finger. “Say ‘aaaa’”
Sieun, stupidly, complies. After all, he’s putty for any of Suho’s requests.
Suho’s finger slides over his bottom lip. Sieun closes his eyes and tries to block any intruding thoughts into his head. When that doesn’t work, he thinks
First Law: an option in motion stays in motion
Second law: The force on an object is equal to its mass multiplied by its acceleration, F = ma
Third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite—
He tastes a mixture of chemicals from the creams and saltiness from Suho’s finger at the tip of his tongue. Sieun opens his eyes.
“Sorry,” Suho mutters. He is trying to aim his hand at Sieun's lip, but instead, he pokes Sieun's upper lip and falters. He looks at Sieun apologetically.
Sieun puts a hand on Suho’s knee, trying to assure him that he didn’t need to apologize. He holds Suho’s finger and gently brings it to his upper lip, finishing Suho’s job.
Before letting go, Sieun presses a kiss to the tip of the finger.
Suho malfunctions.
He looks like he was hit by a truck. All the colour in his face drained. His jaw is wide open.
Sieun giggles.
Suho’s jaw, comedically, drops lower.
“Let’s go to sleep,” Sieun says, getting off Suho’s bed. Before he could make it to the guest bed in the corner, a sudden wave of guilt hit him. Why did he do that?
He is the reason why Suho’s hand shakes.
He is the reason why Suho can’t use the bathroom by himself.
He is the reason that this poor boy lost two years of his life in vain.
“Come back, Sieun-ah,” he hears. His feet move towards the voice. Tears prickle his eyes. “How can you go from laughing to crying in one second?” Suho tugs at his arms to sit down, and so Sieun does. Suho’s eyes are warm, and his voice is a comfort. “Tell me what’s the matter?”
Sieun shakes his head.
“I’m sorry you think you could ever be a burden to me. It’s not true.” Suho whispers. Tears escape from Sieun's eyes.
“Suho-yah,” Sieun’s voice breaks. He feels the hold on his hand strengthen. “You should hate me.”
“What-”
“You have every right to. But I don’t know how I would live if you did. It’s so confusing.”
Suho pushes Sieun down so that he’s sitting on the bed again. “Come here, sweetheart.”
He brings Sieun's head to his chest. Caressing away the tears that mixed with the moisturizer. “The only person I blame is Beomseok, and him alone. He’s the one who hurt you, and he’s the one who hurt me. You are so kind and so warmhearted, and I really love that about you, but don’t take what he did and blame it on yourself.”
Suho holds Sieun's chin and raises his head. Suho’s eyes are also shimmering with tears, and they’re so full of love. Sieun is certain about that.
Suho caresses Seiun's hair and then pulls off the fuzzy pink hairband.
“Oh god, I forgot about that. I probably look so stupid right now,” Sieun says despite the tears.
“You have no idea how badly I want to memorize the sight of you.”
Sieun wipes his nose with his sleeve. “That sounds like you're professing your undying love for me.”
Suho stops caressing Sieun's hair to plant a kiss on his forehead. It feels like home.
Suho shifts to the side of the bed and pulls Sieun to lie down next to him. Sieun’s tears continue to flow. When the crying does stop, Suho realizes that Sieun has fallen asleep. Suho joins him, falling asleep with his limbs tangled with Sieuns. What’s left unsaid would be sorted out tomorrow. For now, let the love and guilt cancel each other out, and create something more neutral: a place of belonging.