As a quick note, I actually cried a little while writing this chapter OTL

Junhong’s social worker forbid Yongguk to visit the hospital any more. She even instructed the staff to not let him into Junhong’s room.

“It’s for the best,” she explained patiently to Mrs. Bang while Yongguk paced and fumed in the background. “We’re trying to get him to put this part of his life behind him and move on.”

Mrs. Bang regarded the social worker with a grim look. “I don’t see how my son is part of the negativity of this situation,” she said. “He’s the one that saved Junhong. In fact, Yongguk is the only person that boy has had to depend on in years. I don’t see how taking away the only stable thing in Junhong’s life is for the best.”

The social worker smiled that practiced smile and offered Mrs. Bang some coffee or tea. “When Junhong moves in with his foster family, he won’t be able to see Yongguk. In fact, their communication will be very limited. Wouldn’t it be best to ease Junhong into this separation gently rather than removing Yongguk all at once?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” Mrs. Bang argued, refusing to be placated with the warm offer of a drink. “Cutting Yongguk out of his life all at once? How is that any different?”

The social worker couldn’t come up with a good explanation for that, so in the end she permitted Yongguk to visit twice that week.

“I’m leaving next week,” Junhong said on Yongguk’s first allotted visit. He was out of his bed, curled up in one of the chairs. The television was , but he wasn’t watching it.

Yongguk swallowed the painful lump in his throat. “Are you excited?” he asked.

Junhong shrugged. “Part of me is and part of me isn’t.” He looked up at Yongguk, and the pain was evident in his eyes. “I don’t really know what to feel anymore, hyung. I don’t understand my own feelings. All I know is that I want all this pain to end.”

Yongguk’s heart was breaking. That’s all he wanted for Junhong as well, and if by moving away Junhong could achieve it, then Yongguk wasn’t going to stand in the way. “I hope you’ll like it there. I’m sure your foster parents are going to be really nice.”

“They are,” Junhong answered, turning to look out the window at the dreary day. “The social worker introduced them to me yesterday. They’re staying in town until I’m released from the hospital, and then they’ll take me Busan with them.”

Yongguk looked down at his hands, clenching around the hem of his shirt, and forced his fingers to relax. “If things don’t go well there, promise that you’ll call me? I’ll come and get you right away.”

A small flicker of a smile ghosted across Junhong’s wan face. “Thanks, hyung. I’ll keep that in mind.” He hesitated. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Yongguk admitted. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead. If he already felt so empty and dull with Junhong in the hospital, what was he going to do once Junhong was out of his life? Possibly for good?

Junhong reached across and took his hand. “You should date someone else, hyung,” he said sadly.

Yongguk looked down at how their fingers were laced together so intimately. “I don’t think I can do that,” he admitted. “I was a completely different person before I met you, Junhong. You changed me for the better, and I don’t think I can go back. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone the way I love you.”

“You have to try,” Junhong pleaded, and there was a hint of tears in his voice. “For me, hyung. I can’t leave if I know that you’re going to be unhappy. So try to be happy. For me.”

Yongguk had to look away. “I’ll try,” he promised, but he knew it would be pretty impossible without Junhong to brighten up his day. He’d gotten so used to having Junhong around that life was going to be meaningless without him. Then he blurted out, “Himchan confessed to me.”

Junhong blinked several times, trying to put a face with the name. “Himchan?” he repeated. “You mean your friend?”

Yongguk nodded.

Junhong forced a smile that was anything but genuine. “That’s great, hyung. You should definitely date him.”

The elder shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he answered. “I don’t feel that way about Himchan. He’s my best friend, but I could never see him as my lover.” He didn’t say it out loud, but he doubted that anyone would be able to fill that role the way Junhong had.

Junhong seemed to know what he was thinking anyway, because his face clouded over and his fingers tangled around Yongguk’s even more tightly. They sat that way until a nurse came in to announce that visiting hours were over and Yongguk had to leave. He pecked Junhong chastely on the cheek and promised to visit again when he was allowed.

His next visit was two days later. Junhong seemed much better when Yongguk arrived at the hospital, moving about a little less lethargically. He was actually watching television when Yongguk walked in, though he immediately turned it off and made room for the elder on the bed.

“My foster parents want to meet you,” Junhong said once they were curled up on the too-narrow bed together. It was the closest they’d been physically since Junhong had been admitted to the hospital, but it was also the last moments they would get to spend alone together and, though neither of them wanted to say it out loud, they wanted to memorize the feel of the other for warm memories.

Yongguk was watching the gentle rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest – if Junhong was even still his boyfriend. He wasn’t sure anymore. When the words finally sank in, he said, “Me? They want to meet me? Why?”

“Because they know that you’re important to me and that you saved my life,” Junhong said, face nestled comfortably against Yongguk’s chest, his breath warm and comforting through the thin material of Yongguk’s t-shirt.

Something warm and pleasant bloomed in Yongguk’s chest. The fact that even though they were being forced to part and might never see each other again Junhong thought of him as important made him extremely happy.

Junhong turned his face up to look at Yongguk expectantly. “So? Will you meet them, hyung?”

“Of course I will,” Yongguk assured him, and, before he could stop himself, he bent down and connected their lips gently.

It was crossing a line and he regretted it immediately. He didn’t know how Junhong would react and, honestly, he was a little afraid of how the kid would feel.

But Junhong didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, he wrapped a hand around the back of Yongguk’s neck and dragged him down for another kiss, this one longer, more fulfilling. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of an immeasurable sadness and Yongguk was suddenly one-hundred percent sure that, whether leaving was the best thing for him or not, Junhong was truly in love with him.

“Hyung,” Junhong said, voice barely more than a whisper. “I know that I shouldn’t ask this since I don’t even know if we’re dating anymore, but, just once more, one more time before I go, will you…?” He left the question hanging, but he didn’t have to finish the sentence. Yongguk knew what he meant.

He answered with another kiss, rolling so that he was hovering above Junhong. The younger whimpered into their kiss, long fingers tangling almost desperately in the front of Yongguk’s shirt.

They moved slow, completely opposite of their first time together. Yongguk spent time memorizing the scars criss-crossing Junhong’s skin, running hands over warm skin, pressing kisses to intimate parts of his lover that he knew he wouldn’t see again. Somehow in the midst of it all, he started crying. Junhong didn’t notice through his own tears.

They came almost simultaneously, locked in one another’s arms, tears mingling together on reddened cheeks.

“I love you, hyung,” Junhong whispered in a moment of weakness, burying his face in Yongguk’s chest as he clung to him desperately. “I’m so sorry that I have to leave. I love you so much.”

“I know,” Yongguk said, but his words came out thick and sounding quite unlike his usual self. “I love you too, Junhonggie. I always will. Never forget that.”

The nurse came in then to inform Yongguk that visiting hours were over and he would have to leave, and she got quite affronted when she found the two of them in Junhong’s hospital bed. She forbid Yongguk from visiting again, but he didn’t care too much. This was already his last visit.

Mrs. Bang came with him on Saturday to meet Junhong and his new foster parents at the train station. They were standing near the terminal, Junhong’s luggage at their feet. The foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lee according to Junhong, stood on either side of him. He towered above them in height, but he still seemed like such a child standing between them.

The introductions were made quickly, politely. Mrs. Lee thanked Yongguk profusely for saving Junhong’s life and Mrs. Bang assured them that Yongguk was as fond of Junhong as Junhong was of him. They talked superficially about maybe visiting next summer, but everyone knew that it was just for the sake of being polite. No visit would ever happen. The social worker would see to that.

Eventually Mrs. Bang suggested that she and Mr. and Mrs. Lee go grab a cup of coffee to give the boys a few minutes to say goodbye in private. Though a little reluctant, the foster parents agreed and finally, finally, Junhong and Yongguk were alone to say what they needed to say.

Only Yongguk couldn’t find the words. What words were there to say? This kid had come into his life so unceremoniously and unprecedented and changed everything, turned his world upside down, and now he was going to walk out of it just like that. Yongguk sort of felt like he’d been caught in a tornado and set down again somewhere far, far from home.

Junhong looked up at him. His face was pale and his eyes were red, but he’d already done his crying. “Thanks for everything, hyung,” he said, voice a little flat as he fought off his overwhelming emotions.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Yongguk muttered. He wanted Junhong to tell him he loved him again. He wanted to hear those words even if he knew they were already true. But Junhong didn’t say them.

Instead he said, “I guess this is goodbye.” Neither pretended that they would see each other again. The pretending was too hard.

“Yeah,” Yongguk agreed. “Goodbye.”

Junhong gave him a short smile that said volumes, and then Mr. and Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Bang were walking back with their overpriced cups of coffee.

“I guess we should get going then,” Mr. Lee said, clapping Junhong fondly on the shoulder.

They thanked Yongguk and Mrs. Bang again, then took Junhong’s luggage and got on the train. And Yongguk watched the most important thing in his life disappear. 

So Busan isn't actually that far. It's on the southern tip of South Korea, which is the opposite side of the country than Seoul, but it's less than a three hour trip by KTX. I found this out because I'm planning on visiting Busan next month and when I was checking train times, I realized how quick of a trip it is OTL 

Anyway, please don't kill me for this sad chapter! 

<3