MinHo could feel his bladder straining to release. He hadn’t gone to the bathroom since that morning, preferring to stay by TaeMin’s side. There was the nagging paranoia biting into the back of his head that told him if he left TaeMin he would come back and find that he had flat line on all of his machines. That fear and protectiveness kept MinHo idle most of the day, frozen in that one chair that had probably moulded to his body by then.

            However, nature called and he ended up going to the restroom. It was just at the right time since the nurse stepped in to change TaeMin’s own bag containing his excrement attached to his side.

            If felt good to be able to relieve himself, but it felt even better when MinHo stepped back into the room and saw TaeMin safe and sound. The nurse was cleaning the undersides of his legs when he returned. She gave him a kind smile, recognizing who he was automatically.

            “You’re still here?” she asked, lifting up TaeMin’s right leg.

            MinHo helped her out by taking it into his own, large hands so she could clean underneath. “I’m still here,” he answered her.

            “I thought you would at least have gone home and showered or something. And have you been eating?” she asked.

            “I did that yesterday.”

            “Have you been eating? I don’t want to see you on one of these beds.”

            “The nurse who does TaeMin’s feeding tube brings me food.” He placed down TaeMin’s leg and proceeded to help out with resetting the bed. The pillows were fluffed and the sheets pulled back up. TaeMin wouldn’t have liked that the bed is so neat, MinHo thought. He liked it when the blankets were tangled up in his legs and the pillows were lumpy and sloppy…

            MinHo couldn’t’ do much about this, though. N an establishment such as this one he put his trust in the professionals. Though sometimes he found snide comments nearly slipping off his tongue he managed to restrain himself.

            The nurse bowed her head slightly to MinHo before departing with her cart of medical supplies. MinHo stood silently by the foot of his boyfriend’s bed before resuming his position in the chair.

            A sorrowful sigh breezed past MinHo’s lips. He lifted up TaeMin’s bony hand and held it between his own. Memories of holding this hand as they took walks together came back to him. His lips pressed a tender kiss onto each one of his fingertips while saying, “Wake up TaeMinnie… Come on, you’ve been sleeping too long…”

            The only answer he received from TaeMin was the rasping noise of the air coursing through his breathalyser.

            MinHo squeezed a little tighter, sandwiching the comatose boy’s hand.

            “Come on… We can watch that Michael Jackson DBD JongHyun got you… Or we can get some ice cream… Or banana milk. If you wake up I’ll get you cases and cases of the stuff…”

            TaeMin’s heart monitor beeped steadily in answer to his words. It was a hard slap in the face but nothing he hadn’t already expected. For days he’d been talking to TaeMin – caring for him, singing to him – in hopes that he might show some signs of waking. He even read to him out of a book TaeMin liked every afternoon. Sometimes he wondered if TaeMin could actually hear him. Maybe he heard every word he was saying and feel every touch but he was just unable to make any sign to show that he had. MinHo would be terrified if he was in that position…

            His head suddenly shot up, nearly snapping off his neck from the quickness of his movement. His eyes passed over TaeMin’s monitors, taking in the erratic looking of the heart monitor and the ecstatic beeping of the breathalyser. Each bleep from the surrounding machines grew faster and faster until it sounded like a bomb ticking down the minutes to destruction. TaeMin’s fingers twitched in MinHo’s hand and then suddenly clamped hard around his fingers. The movement seemed almost seizure like and like a small spasm, severely concerning the older boy.

            Panic clutched MinHo’s heart with icy fingers. There was no way the blood was still circulating in his body. His voice raised a couple decibels as he belted out for help.

            It didn’t take long for a doctor to rush in with a small army of nurses trailing hot on his heels. MinHo was being shoved and nudged out of the room despite his pleas to stay by TaeMin’s side. He felt their fingers get torn apart as the nurse finally managed to push him completely out of the room.

            His shoulder hit the dense wall as he slumped against it. A million horrible scenarios ran through his head. Behind that closed door TaeMin could be dying. He could be taking his last breath and he hadn’t even been able to kiss him goodbye…

            Minutes dragged on to what felt like hours. MinHo wasn’t sure if staying in the room was better than being raced out on a gurney. When nearly half an hour had disappeared and all MinHo saw were nurses slipping in and out of the room silently he grew even more worried. Even another doctor had travelled down to the small hospital room that had been TaeMin’s home for weeks. The one thing that really hit home in the fear department for him, though, was that none of them seemed to be in a rush.

            Did that mean that TaeMin was dead?

            If he kept up his pacing with that thought then there would soon be a tunnel of dirt where the tiles of the hospital floor once had been.

            He’d dead. He’s dying. Gone. Lost. No longer inhabiting planet earth. Moving towards the light.

            “Mr. Choi, is it?”

            The doctor’s voice managed to stop the panicking boy dead in his steps. His big eyes focused on the man in the white jacket holding all the information. What confused him was that he didn’t hold a sombre look. It actually looked the complete opposite. He looked almost… Cheery?

            “He’s not dead is he?” MinHo asked, surprised to hear his voice cracking on his final word.

            “Oh no, quite the opposite,” the doctor said, a large smile slowly creeping onto his face. “He’s awake.”