author: jwhong005 / written: 20130430 / pairing: 2jun / rating: pg / cr: tumblr
a/n: sorry this was really bad. i thought it was okay ... but i was wrong.
i have another--much better--story in the works in my head.

It's nine thirty-five when Junhyung wakes up, stirred by the sun shining through the thin, light blue curtain. Birds are chirping but he's a deep sleeper so it takes more than that to get him completely awake and moving. There's a bit of noise coming outside in the hallway. Someone's cleaning—vacuuming to be exact—on the other side of the door in hopes of waking the brunette without actually having to wake him.

On the bedside table the clock illuminates part of the room with a yellow sticky note attached. Your favorite color is blue. The statement proves to be true since the sheets are baby blue to match the dark blue wall that contrasts with the other three that are shaded tan. An odd combination but Junhyung doesn't bother to question it. To get out of bed, first he rubs his tired eyes, palm wandering on the bedside table in search of something he can't remember the name of.

Instead of finding the object he had been searching for, he comes into contact with a piece of paper, to which he picks up out of curiosity. Unlike the sticky note, it's loose leaf with sloppy Korean scrawled onto the page. The handwriting seems to be male since it's not really legible and the person who wrote it was most likely right handed judging by how the symbols are all slanted on the page. It's only a half sheet and straight to the point.

Good morning Junhyung. 
  My name is Yoon Doojoon. I'm your boyfriend. Please get ready and come out for breakfast.

The male scrunches his face slightly, brows furrowing as he tries to recall who Doojoon is. It's hard. But he doesn't linger on the thought for too long because the vacuuming noise gets gradually closer to where it's up against the door, nearly busting it down. This causes Junhyung to finally swing his legs out of bed and pad around the room in search of a bathroom to use. 

Just like everything else, the tiles are blue as well as the shower curtain. Two tooth bruses are held neatly in a white toothbrush caddy with a long sticky note beneath it labeling whose was whose. A green one and the blue one. Just as the other assumes that the blue one is his, the note tells him otherwise so he listens. He isn't completely sure why he listened, but he did. And soon he's putting a glob of the mint stuff onto the bristles and brushing his teeth with it.

Quickly he contemplates combing his hair but since he doesn't have anyone in particular to impress, he doesn't bother. Once he is finished he goes outside the room, coming face-to-face with a picture frame with him in it. He's smiling in the photograph, arms holding someone he recognizes to be his parents with a happy golden retriever at his feet. A diploma is in hand but Junhyung can't bring himself to remember if it was for college or high school—that is if he went to college at all.

Sounds of bacon sizzling and eggs being cracked, Junhyung follows the noise into the kitchen. His eyes widen and his legs suddenly tense, prepared to run when he sets his eyes on a tall male standing in his kitchen casually, clad in sweatpants and a flattering t-shirt that rightfully framed the other's back muscles through the material. It appears that the other didn't notice is presence so Junhyung tries to run, failing to do so when his heel bangs into the corner of the wall. Hissing, he hops on one leg as if that would pacify the pain.

"Sorry, I can't believe I didn't hear you!" the male in the kitchen says, eliciting a short laugh before rushing to help Junhyung. He puts one hand on the latter's waist while the other tries to guide him but Junhyung doesn't want to be guided anywhere. "Jun, calm down. It's me, Doojoon."

At the new realization, Junhyung freezes, almost remorseful for pushing the supposed Doojoon away. The note could be lying to him as the logical part of him argues. The other part of him tells Junhyung to trust the note. Just like any other morning, he's torn between which one should be the correct decision to go with.

"I made your favorite breakfast. Eggs and bacon. I'll explain things when you eat." Doojoon urges, reaching out for Junhyung to hold his arm, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin the t-shirt revealed. "Please."

Junhyung's gut tells him this time around that Doojoon is trustable so he listens, seating himself at the kitchen table to be served the mood called his favorite. Sitting on the table happened to be the daily newspaper, written in bold letters at the top TUESDAY, 7 APRIL 2013. Shocked, Junhyung glances at Doojoon preparing a plate (also blue, of course) before picking up the inky paper that he once loathed to touch since it happened to be very dirty to examine it more closely.

"I thought today was January seventh ... January seventh of two thousand and eleven." Junhyung says, mouth gaping open slightly when he tries to figure out if he is right or wrong. He's only been up for less than a half hour and already his head hurts.

"It was," Doojoon replies, setting the plate on the table with a pair of chopsticks to accompany the meal, "two years ago. Well, approximately two years ago. Time flies when you have anterograde amnesia, Jun. I can explain. We have all twenty four hours if you'd like."

Amnesia. For some reason Junhyung can't wrap his head around it. He knows who he is. He was born the nineteenth of December as Yong Jaesoon prior to changing his name to Junhyung in the sixth grade. He remembers his parents and his little brother, Junsung, who happened to be three years his junior. He knows that he had been accepted into a prestigious academy for high school. But that's all he knows, all he remembers. Just the basics of his life and how to function.

"I don't get it." Junhyung mutters, voice barely above a whisper. The food is right underneath his nose but he ignores it as if it was never put there in the first place. "I can't have amnesia. If I had amnesia I -- I wouldn't be the same."

Doojoon emits a sigh, accustomed to the usual morning routine. Although, sometimes, do go a bit differently but after two years -- nearly two years -- nothing can really surprise him. "You aren't the same, Jun. A lot has happened."

It's five thirty in the afternoon when Junhyung comes out of his room, hands clutching his head and hair to get a better grip of things—of reality. Things are having a hard time to sink in. All he can see is his 'boyfriend's' continuous scrawl on endless pages of notebooks and binders along with the bright assortment of sticky notes that are placed about the apartment. Doojoon would like to say that this is the longest Junhyung has taken to accept things. But it doesn't surprise him.

"Who's Hyunseung?" 

"A friend of yours."

"And Yoseob?"

"An ex of mine. We no longer speak."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, he's my ex. And two, he moved too far away. It was hard to keep in contact with each other."

Junhyung settles on the couch far away from Doojoon, not wanting the other to get too close in fear of something bad happening to himself. He gingerly holds a loose sheet of paper in his hands, fiddling with the corners that are getting bent from being played with. A sticky note is plastered onto the bottom of the page, littered with a few brief messages and smiley faces that were supposed to be comforting.

You got into a car accident on 6 January 2011. You got a coma and didn't wake up for two weeks. When you did wake up, you thought a day had passed. The doctor diagnosed you with amnesia when you showed no signs of recovery a month later—even with therapy sessions.

"Did you write this all?" Junhyung bothers to ask, looking over at the other between the brown fringe. Doojoon nods and that's enough comfirmation by how serious he is that there is no lie or hidden secret underneath the gesture. "Why?"

"We started dating your final year of high school. I was in college. We've been together ever since. I will admit that I tried to leave you, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it in the end." Doojoon concludes with a sigh. "You're someone I couldn't bring myself to forget even if you couldn't remember. I just about twenty when it happened and you were ... what—"

"How should I know what?"

"—around eighteen or nineteen I suppose. Two years have passed so I think you can do the math." The older male sighs, propping his elbow up to rest his chin in the palm of his hand. The TV has been on for a while now but it's been muted just in case Junhyung did something stupid in the bedroom. "It isn't a big deal if you can't remember the tiny details. Not even those that can remember actually do remember."

"Do you mean to include me in this assumption of yours?" Junhyung comes to narrow his eyes, feeling even more skeptical of eating anything else that the other male hands him. The food was good but he still couldn't remember why he liked eggs so much. They were either white and disgusting or yellow and disgusting. Somehow he ate it and stomached it all in the end. 

By the way that Doojoon shifts, Junhyung can tell that he's beginning to get on the older male's nerves. Even though Junhyung wishes he can simply believe Doojoon, he can't bring himself to do it. Not even after he's seen pictures and a few home made videos of them together, smiling, being happy. Junhyung, at first, had asked if it was some kind of photoshop used but Doojoon just kept insisting that they were all real memories. It's just a shame that the other can't bring himself to remember any of them.

An hour later they've relocated into the bedroom. As much as Junhyung doesn't want to admit it, he feels comfortable being held in the other's arms. They're strong but not crushing or overbearing as they sit on the king sized bed together with pillows propped up behind him. Every so often he can feel Doojoon's fingers playing with his hair but he doesn't swat his hand away (or anymore at least. He tried at first but the other kept on coming back.). The movie that they chose to watch is nonsensical. On top of that it doesn't matter: Junhyung will forget in the morning.

"Where would you be if I wasn't here?" Junhyung pauses the sad movie to ask, noticing how Doojoon's fingers twitch at his side. The elder attempted to hold Junhyung's hand but it was an unappreciated gesture. "You'd be in school, wouldn't you?"

"I finished school already." Doojoon swallowed thickly, resting his head back against the headboard. "Before you had been living at Han's Ward and I would visit you two ... three times a week sometimes to check up on you. You must've been having a good day because you remembered me. Or, it seemed you did. You didn't call me by my name but you hugged me as if I was your friend again instead of pushing me away in denial of my existence. So I finished my last semester before graduation and took you in."

Junhyung purses his lips, a gesture to which Doojoon used to respond by promptly kissing the pouty lips but not anymore. "I'm a burden," he decides.

"You're not," the elder argues. "You'll never be. I'm too stubborn to actually try and believe that like everyone else did. You know you're Yong Junhyung and as long as I can wake up every morning and remind you that I'm Yoon Doojoon, your boyfriend, I'm not giving up."

"Something tells me that that isn't true. I don't want to believe that that's possible." Junhyung argues back, trying to push away the other who evidently is no longer satisfied with sitting far away from him. He tries to fight back but Doojoon's stronger than Junhyung. "I can call the police. I can say that you're taking advantage of someone with memory loss. You can go to jail."

At this Doojoon laughs, letting his arms fall around Junhyung's waist even though the latter doesn't want to be touched at the moment. "I could go to jail, but I won't. You called two weeks ago. My uncle bailed me out and the next day you didn't even remember hitting me on the head with the lamp. Luckilly, it was god awful but since your mother picked it out for us, we had to keep it until it 'accidently' broke. It's just too bad that my head started to bleed."

"I should hit you again then." Junhyung prompts, attempting to free one of his arms to reach for the lamp that's sitting so conviently on the side table. He, of course, would have ot pull it out of the wall with some effort, but Doojoon wasn't letting to go allow that to happen. "Just let go of me! Byuntae! I would never date someone like you!"

"Really?" Doojoon questions while slightly recoiling, "How would you remember if you'd date a person like me or not, really? There's a way to work with people who have amnesia, but clearly you aren't complying. I wouldn't lie."

"Is that a lie?"

"Of course not."

"And how can I trust you? There's no proof."

"That's okay. The day you wake up and you remember me, that'll be the day that you wake up afraid because I've been sleeping in the spare bedroom for who knows how long and you'll think I left you only to discover that I've always been here. That's the day I'm waiting for and that's when you know that nothing has ever been a lie." Doojoon tried to smile, but couldn't, opting to just get up off the couch.

Today had been a bad day, not a good day where Junhyung would either come to terms with what Doojoon told him or showed him, but a bad day where nothing went right. Although he was close to snapping, he knew that he couldn't. Instead he retreated back to the spare bedroom, closing the door behind him on the way in while making sure that he disconnected the landline. He didn't want the cops to come again. Not twice in one week. They were probably getting tired of seeing him too.