“Junhui!”

“Coming!”

Jun steps out of the lavishly decorated room, dressed flawlessly in a dark, simply cut suit.

Jeonghan waits for him, tilted smile lighting up his angelic features.

“Ready?”

“No.”

Jun’s answer is blunt, and he smiles, sneaking a look at the other.

Jeonghan playfully pushes him into the wall.

“Hey, you’ll do fine.”

Jun is silent, but his smile tells everything.

That smile is soft.

Soft with unspoken gratitude.

Gratitude and love.

Love, above all.

Jeonghan does not need to look to know.

But he looks.

And he smiles.

Because he knows.

He knows how grateful Jun is.

He knows how much he loves him.

Jun looks away, and Jeonghan’s smile fades.

He also knows how much Jun hates being dependent on anyone.

So, after this presentation, after the university accepts him, Jun will be on his own.

Leaving Jeonghan alone.

Alone with his family company.

But Jeonghan cannot help but smile.

Jun had always wanted to be a doctor.

And now he is going to be.

So let him.

Jeonghan would never deny him this, of all things.

“Jeonghan…”

Jun keeps his eyes on the pristine white hallway, seemingly oblivious to the paintings on the walls.

Jeonghan looks over, eyebrows raised in concern.

“You know I’ve always hated being dependent,” Jun starts, hesitating.

Jeonghan smiles slightly, inclining his head in acknowledgement.

“But…”

“But…?”

Jun stops and faces Jeonghan.

Jeonghan is taken back, to a night many years ago, a brutally harsh winter night, when it rained sleet instead of snow.

When it soaked through a simple boy, resorting to desperate choices to support his family.

“Jeonghan…”

Jun’s voice is soft and choked.

Jeonghan pulls him into a hug.

“I know,” he says, voice thick with emotion.

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand!”

Jun pulls away, furiously swiping at the tears ready to fall.

“I-”

“It’s more than just that!” Jun fairly yells. “It’s more than just friends, saviors, more than that! So much more, and you will never understand!”

He turns and stalks away, leaving Jeonghan behind, still with shock.

Jun’s tears are freefalling, dripping onto his suit, onto the shiny floor.

But he could not care less.

He keeps walking.

Hoping, knowing, that he will chase after.

And suddenly, there he is.

The pair of arms encircling his waist.

The warmth, the strength that had held him up all these years.

The only reason why he did not give up.

“Jeonghan…”

Jeonghan’s tears soak into the back of Jun’s suit jacket, but he does not let go.

Only holds him tighter.

His face pressed to Jun’s back.

Jun turns his face to the lights, desperately trying to stop the tears running down his face.

Jeonghan’s quiet sobbing fills the hall.

Jun knows he is trying to hold back, trying not to burst.

Unbidden, his own sobs escape.

And Jun pitches forward, doubling over, letting the pain of all these years wash over him.

Reliving all the shame of the years before.

Jeonghan, too, repents.

How could he have been so blind?

Before Jun, all he knew was wealth.

All he had ever cared about was himself.

And then, Jun came, and changed everything.

“Jun…” he sobs, not caring anymore.

Not caring about anything anymore.

Whoever saw them.

Whoever heard them.

Whoever spread the rumors.

All he cared about, all he had ever cared about, was Jun.

Jun, whom he had saved.

Jun, who had learned six years’ worth of school in five years.

Junhui.

Jun.

His Jun.

Jun’s hand is covering his mouth, but the tears still flow.

The pain is real.

And suddenly, Jeonghan is in front of him.

Jeonghan, crying so hard he can barely breath.

Jeonghan, pulling his head down onto his collarbone.

And fresh tears break loose.

Because one day, oh, one day, seven years ago, hadn’t he done the very same thing?

Had he not Jeonghan’s hair, telling him it will be alright?

And now, Jeonghan, sobbing, is doing the same.

Telling him it will be fine.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, so much. So ing much.”

“I love you, I love you too,” Jun hiccups, reveling in Jeonghan’s warmth. “So ing much.”

Because Jun knows Jeonghan is telling the truth.

And oh, the kisses he presses to his hair, to his face.

Everywhere, oh, so soft.

Soft and light and fleeting.

Jun drinks in his scent, slowly, deliberately, as if in a reverie.

Finally, Jeonghan pushes Jun’s hair back from his face.

Jun reaches up to move Jeonghan’s hair.

And their lips meet.

In a burst of emotion.

Soft and slow and sweet.

When they finally pull away, Jun is unable to suppress a soft gasp.

Jeonghan knows he wants more.

He himself wants more.

But there is no time.

“Junhui…” Jeonghan murmurs, running a finger down Jun’s porcelain cheek. “Wen Junhui…”

“Jeonghan…” Jun whispers, clutching at Jeonghan’s lapel. “Yoon Jeonghan…”

But there is no time, and they both look terrible.

Jeonghan smiles, softly, sadly.

“Go get cleaned up,” he says, propelling Jun into the bathroom.

“And you,” Jun says, a soft but tragic smile sitting on his face.

The two of them both.

Soft, sad smiles that foretell the future.

Soft, sad eyes that know what will happen.

Soft, sad kisses that linger far longer than they should.

Because Jun is going.

Going away.

Far away.

And Jeonghan…

May never see him again.

So please, leave them to it.

I beg of you.

Let them love.

And remember that night, seven years ago, when they saved each other.

Wen Junhui and Yoon Jeonghan.