Three years later

“You can’t do this to me now!” he yelled. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he desperately held his right bicep with his left hand, hoping that his grip would make the involuntary twitching stop. It was futile, and it was frustrating just like every other short session had been. Those seconds seemed interminable. This was the fifth time it happened this week, thrice this day for the first time, and it was only Tuesday. Why did this happen to him?

Then it stopped. The twitching subsided, but Junmyeon still held tight his right arm, and still cried in solitude at the parking lot in his and Yixing’s apartment. How unfair. He knew. The hourglass had run out of the sand. It had begun. Junmyeon had suspected it for a couple of months, but he had wanted to believe he had more time. He needed more time. He wanted more time. Life was unfair though.

The first symptoms were present on his right arm. At first, he noted it in the gym. His right arm could no longer lift the same amount of weight as his left arm. He thought that maybe he had overworked his left arm, that it had gotten stronger and it wasn’t his right arm that had gotten weaker. The few times he had gotten muscle cramps in his arm, he had blamed it on the workouts. But then he couldn’t properly hold a pen, his grip had weakened, and rarely, he couldn’t even hold that pen because of that strange numbness in his thumb. Writing had become a difficult task. And recently even things like using the can opener, his phone, or buttoning his lab coat seemed like the toughest tasks. His finger dexterity had decreased. And now the twitches, the fasciculations, were there, tormenting either his arm or hand in the most unpredictable times.

Today, on October 1, the day of his and Yixing’s second wedding anniversary, he couldn’t take it anymore. It hurt to know they had only gotten three wonderful years together. Now that was coming to an end, a tragic end. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but Junmyeon cried because he knew it was true. It was evident. His ALS had started to develop. Of course, only a doctor could confirm this statement. But he had the SOD1 mutation; he had the initial symptoms of ALS. It had to be true.

Still, Junmyeon would have wanted more time. Three years would never be enough to prepare oneself to face this horrible sickness, this death sentence, or to leave behind the man he loved. Maybe not even a lifetime was sufficient. Junmyeon was worried, scared, afraid of the future, of how fast it would go, of how much it would hurt even if they said that physical pain wasn’t a symptom, he still thought it would hurt. Neither was it easier to know that his mind would remain intact, and he’d always be aware of all the deterioration of his body, just like right now. He was scared. This would break his soul into pieces, and not only him. Yixing had promised to stay with him the whole time, the whole hell that was to come, and he was sure Yixing would suffer along with him. But despite this knowledge, Junmyeon would never ask Yixing to leave because he knew he could never do this on his own.

Life was unfair.

He inhaled deeply and tried to bring down his heart rate. The tears had stopped flooding at some point. The aching anguish in his heart was still there though. But it was a weird ambivalence because he was also happy. It was his and Yixing’s second wedding anniversary. They were only going to have dinner at home, but even this simple celebration made him joyful. Marrying Yixing had been one of the happiest reminiscences he treasured since he lost his memory in the car accident. To this day, Junmyeon had only managed to remember one thing from his life before the crash.

He saw himself in the rear-view mirror. Washing his face before meeting Yixing would be a great idea.

Junmyeon fumbled with his keys again. He tried to turn off his car, but recently it took him three attempts to accomplish the task. At least it required less than to unlock the door to the apartment. Right now, he stood in their floor’s hallway, and it took him six attempts before he opened the door. Couldn’t the signs have been more obvious? He sighed and walked inside. There was a pleasant aroma around the house. Junmyeon immediately recognized it. He smiled, Yixing hadn’t said what he’d cook, but he knew now. Crisp sesame duck, his favorite Chinese dish. Before going to the kitchen, Junmyeon went to the bathroom to erase the traces of his momentary meltdown. He decided to put aside his worries and fears to focus on being happy with Yixing for now, later this night he’d say it.

Junmyeon found Yixing listening to music and singing as he washed the pots. Instantly he smiled, he loved listening to his husband’s voice. Unheard, he walked over to stand behind Yixing and held him by his waist, enveloping Yixing in a back hug. He inhaled Yixing’s neck, filling his nostril with an enthralling scent.

“Jun, that tickles!” Yixing complained, leaning his head to the side, away from Junmyeon’s reach.

Junmyeon chuckled. He let go of Yixing, who instantly turned around to hold Junmyeon instead. Yixing kissed him. He loved kissing those lips. Junmyeon raised his hands and put them around Yixing’s neck. He could feel Yixing’s damp hands holding his waist, but he didn’t care.

“Hi Jun,” Yixing said when the kiss ended. Their noses were touching. His eyes focused on Junmyeon’s.

“Xing.”

Why couldn’t time stop there? At this moment, in Yixing’s grasp, where both were smiling like idiots, and everything was somewhat perfect.

“Come on. Dinner’s ready,” Yixing said, letting go of Junmyeon. “Let’s set up the table on the terrace.”

He nodded and helped Yixing. When everything was ready, they sat in front of each other.

Junmyeon had a new working schedule, and he would return home later than before, so he would no longer send Yixing off to work. But it was a good thing Yixing was free tonight. He stared to the side and saw Guangzhou’s night skyline. Even if it was the beginning of autumn, the mild weather was refreshing, and eating outside watching this scenery was something both enjoyed.

They began eating as they talked about their day or other things like their friends and family. The food tasted exquisite, and Junmyeon would always make sure to voice out his appreciation. He loved to see his husband smile with his deep dimples appearing.

Yixing had never questioned further why Junmyeon no longer ate with chopsticks. He seemed okay with the excuse Junmyeon had given: ‘I don’t know, I just felt like using forks and knives.’ That was a lie of course. Junmyeon could no longer use the chopsticks with the same precision as before. If he did try, it'd probably take him an hour to finish eating. But even gripping the cutlery was sometimes difficult.

Rapidly, Junmyeon shook his thoughts away. He was supposed to focus on celebrating this day with Yixing.

When their dinner ended, they picked up everything and put it in the dishwasher.

Yixing took a seat by the piano stool and began playing. Junmyeon sat next to him, and immersed himself in the melody Yixing was performing. Somehow this position had become a habit of them, Junmyeon sitting next to Yixing and watching how Yixing moved his hands elegantly. Sometimes, Junmyeon accompanied him with his singing voice. Tonight, he didn’t.

Time passed, it was later in the night. Their day was coming to an end. Now, they were both taking a bath after making love. Fortunately, their bathtub was big enough for both.

Junmyeon stared at Yixing, who had his eyes closed. His gaze was on Yixing’s jet black hair that was pushed back, making his forehead visible. He gawked his nose, his eyebrows, his elf-like ears which he found to be adorable, even if Yixing said otherwise, his lips and its considerable thicker lower part. Yixing was truly beautiful.

“Jun, what are you doing?” Yixing said. “I can feel you looking at me.”

“I’m admiring you.”

Yixing chuckled. He opened his eyes and leaned his head a bit to the left. “Admiring me?”

“Yes. You’re beautiful, Xing. Really, beautiful.”

He saw a bright smile on Yixing’s face. “Thanks. You’re okay yourself.”

“Just okay?” Junmyeon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yixing laughed. Splashing some water on the floor, he moved so he could lay on top of Junmyeon. He leaned in to kiss him. Junmyeon raised his arms to bring him closer.

“You’re the most handsome husband one could ever have,” Yixing whispered between their lips before kissing him again.

Not long after, they laid in bed. Yixing’s head rested on top of Junmyeon’s shoulder, and Junmyeon held his waist. For a couple of hours, Junmyeon had been trapped in the enchanting happiness that was loving and being loved by Yixing. The food, the music, his voice, their bodies touching one another, everything had been enthralling. But the reality was there, bringing him back from being on cloud nine. And it was at this moment, Junmyeon knew he had to bring it up, even if he felt he was about to break Yixing’s heart. But time wasn’t in their favor, it seemed never to be.

“I’m gonna make an appointment with my neurologist.”

He could feel Yixing tensing up. Yixing withdrew Junmyeon’s arm from his waist so he could sit up straight against the headboard. Junmyeon followed suit. And now they were both staring at one another. Yixing’s eyes were glistening.

“It has started, hasn’t it?”

Junmyeon could feel something forming in his throat. He nodded.

And then Yixing let out his tears. “I figured, but I always wished I was wrong.”

“You knew?”

“You’re not the only one who has learned about ALS.” Yixing clasped their hands together, it was Junmyeon’s debilitated hand. “I always look out for you, Jun. You’ve been dropping things. Your handwriting has changed. You stopped using chopsticks, and you don’t wear your shirts anymore. Sometimes I hear you fumbling with your keys in the hallway.”

Of course, Yixing had noticed it too. They were both going to face this together, Junmyeon got the worse part, but of course, Yixing would know. Whether that was a relief or worry, Junmyeon didn’t know.

“And whenever I hold your right hand, your grip isn’t as strong as it used to be.”

Junmyeon nodded. “I have muscle cramps in my arm. And the twitches have started too,” he added.

Yixing sobbed. A flood of tears fell down his face. And seeing this shattered image made Junmyeon cry too. The aching pain was released. The suffering was just beginning.

“I’m scared,” Junmyeon said.

“Me too.”

“I’m scared of dying like that, Xing.”

And it was then Yixing held Junmyeon in his arms. His hand caressed Junmyeon’s back. “It’s okay, it’s okay to be afraid.”

Junmyeon knew Yixing couldn’t do much to take away his fears. Saying things like ‘You’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be fine,’ was futile in his case, a cruel and disheartening lie. Junmyeon didn’t want to hear lies. He wouldn’t be okay, he would never be.

“How can some people bravely fight this? How can they have such a strong attitude to fight this ing illness? I’m such a coward. I-I don’t know if I’ll ever be as admirable like them. I think I’ll always be scared.”

“You don’t have to be like anybody else. A strong attitude with this fight, or being scared, it shouldn’t matter. You’ll face this your own way, and I’m always gonna be by your side no matter what, Jun.”

They shed out the rest of their tears in silence. Somehow, they had ended up lying on the bed again, Yixing still holding Junmyeon in his embrace.

“We always have the most memorable anniversaries, don’t we?” Junmyeon said once they had finally calmed down.

“Indeed,” Yixing said before huffing.

The upcoming months were an unbearable wait. Junmyeon visited his neurologist. Even if Junmyeon had the SOD1 mutation, the doctors still had to follow the procedure to diagnose him. Otherwise, Junmyeon could be suffering from another motor neuron disease. Junmyeon knew it could only be ALS, even if a tiny fraction of him hoped for another outcome. And from there on, test after test awaited him. There didn’t exist a particular test that could provide a definite diagnosis of ALS. Instead, because the symptoms of ALS could mimic other conditions, the doctors had to carry out proper exams that ruled out those potential illnesses.

Blood and urine tests, electromyography, magnetic resonance imaging, nerve conducting studies, muscle biopsies, he did them all, and other more. Everything that could help rule out a particular sickness, only to be left with ALS as the main culprit.

Eight months later, on this day, they reached a diagnosis. The standard criteria for establishing the diagnosis of ALS were there. His upper and lower motor neurons were degenerating, the symptoms in his right arm had somewhat progressed and were expanding. The EMG and biopsy didn’t show any evidence of another disease that was causing the degeneration of his upper and lower motor neurons. The NCS didn’t register any muscle illness or nerve damage. Neither did the MRI and other tests show any signs of other sicknesses that could explain his symptoms. Everything had been ruled out. Junmyeon had ALS.

The doctors told him to come back again in six months and retake his tests, and to get a second opinion, just in case they might have diagnosed him wrong. This could sometimes happen, people getting the wrong diagnosis. But Junmyeon knew that it was in vain. He had ALS. That was the reason behind everything.

It was the only explanation as to why his right arm had become so utterly weak and useless. Lifting things with his arm at first was like an intense workout, now he could barely raise it past his elbow. Yixing had to help him change his t-shirts. The cramps and twitching became more frequent. Sometimes his fingers curled, and he could not flatten out his hand. Waiting for the numbness, the stiffness, to pass was excruciating. And Junmyeon was sure he would soon lose total control of his little and ring fingers. He could no longer write because those scrawls were incomprehensible letters. His journals took a digital form now. And recently, he could feel his right feet becoming weaker too.

But at least Junmyeon still had his left side of his body intact. He could still use his left hand. He could still go to work. He could still eat on his own. He could still avoid the embarrassment of having others to help him with his private matters, for now at least. It seemed his ALS was progressing slowly, and Junmyeon couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse. A blessing because he still had some independence, he still had more time with Yixing. A curse because he would face a slow death.

Right now, he and Yixing stood in front of their apartment. Yixing unlocked the door because Junmyeon couldn’t do it anymore, it took way longer than six tries, his hand didn't even reach the lock. They had just returned from their appointment with the doctors, from officially hearing for the first time that Junmyeon had ALS, even if they already knew.

“What a lovely late birthday gift,” Junmyeon said when they walked inside. He had just turned thirty-four last week, and now, he had just been diagnosed with ALS.

Yixing huffed. “But at least we know for sure now.”

“Yes… We are aware we’ll just have to wait for my slow death now.”

Yixing stopped short from removing his shoes. He walked wearing only one shoe towards Junmyeon. Yixing hugged him. And Junmyeon could only raise his left arm to hug him back. He could feel Yixing’s tears soaking his shoulder, he could hear him miserably cry as if it had been him who had gotten the death sentence. Junmyeon could feel his own tears starting to fall.