Length: 14k words

--

It is soup, Junhui concludes as he looks at the bowl in front of him. It's nothing new. It's almost the only thing he's been eating lately and he's about to be very tired of it. 

Sighing to himself lightly, he takes the spoon and dips it into the warm soup. Glancing at the younger boy by his side as he takes the first slurp, he can't help but feel a bit bad for him.

Minghao doesn't really like soup, yet he's been serving it for his older friend so often now, that he's probably used to the watery consistency by now. He used to complain about how it was just water with some kind of taste. These days he cooks and makes it himself - just for Junhui, he always says and sends him a wink.

Minghao doesn't speak as they eat, hence why it's completely silent apart from the continuing slurping sounds between them.

Junhui's proud of himself once his bowl is empty. He didn't choke at all while eating.

--

This is the hardest part of starting a new school year. The thought flies through his head, as he approaches the door to his classroom.

His heart is beating fast and hard in his chest. Trying hard to look somewhat cool, he forces his hands to stop shaking, taking a deep breath in the meantime.

He's nervous and he hates it.

Minghao had looked at him worriedly, asking if he would be okay. They had tried their hardest to get into the same class, but for some reason, it hadn't worked. They had been placed in two different classes. It clearly worried Minghao more than it did Junhui.

He was going to be okay, he told himself.

Finally entering the classroom after what seems like a very long walk down the corridor. Once in the room, he sighs relieved, realizing that there's only him and some other boy in there. Deciding that it's best for him to keep low - considering his not perfect Korean and how hard it is talking lately - he chooses to sit down by the table in the far end of the room.

--

Looking around the classroom silently, Junhui observes his new classmates. Since he entered the room, all the seats have been taking, but somehow the seat next to him is still free.

Once again observing the boys filling the classroom, he can't help but feel relieved that he's not the only one who seems out of place. All over the room there's boys glancing at each other silently. There are also some of the social ones, who are already talking to each other as if they've known each other their whole life. He somehow misses Minghao.

"Hello," someone says suddenly, pulling Junhui out of his train of thoughts.

Turning around, he notices the boy who's now sitting next to him. When did he arrive? How long had Junhui just stared into nothing, without noticing the other at all?

"I'm Wonwoo," the boy says, holding his hand out for the other to shake in a handshake.

Looking at the boy - Wonwoo - Junhui can't help but be surprised by the deep tone of his voice. It sounds warm and deep, as if someone could drown in it any minute. The boy has such sharp features and dark, enchanting eyes. The longer Junhui stares at him the harder it gets for him to look away.

Shaking his head lightly, Junhui pulls himself out of the beginning trance.

It takes a couple of seconds of more staring, before the Chinese boy pulls himself together and shakes the other boy's hand. Feeling a lump in his throat, he does his best not to stutter. His heart is beating hard in his chest, as he hopes for himself not to mess up the seemingly easy words.

"I'm Junhui," he finally says, voice barely loud enough for the other boy to hear. The warm look in his eyes shows that he did hear.

A big smile finds its way to the Korean boy's face. What before seemed rather dark and mysterious, now gives the impression of light and happiness and warmth.

"It’s nice to meet you."

The voice isn't lightened up like the rest of the boy's expression. Junhui doesn't mind.

It's the first time Junhui has felt this enchanted by someone he's met for the first time. Whether if it's a good thing or not, he doesn't know yet.

--

Junhui doesn't know why, but the look of Wonwoo's smile won't leave his head. The thought of Wonwoo in general won't leave his head.

The black haired Korean boy had talked to him through the class, probably noticing how nervous he was about everything. It had been as if a perfect Korean speaking Minghao had been there. It had felt comfortable and made him less nervous than he had been all morning.

Junhui doesn't understand how a person he's really just met can fill his thoughts like this.

"Hyung?"

Minghao is looking at him with a worried expression spread on his face. The look in his eyes asks the unasked question, that hasn't fallen from his lips yet, 'are you okay?'.

The older of the two Chinese boys knows how much the younger worries about him - he would too if he was in Minghao's shoes.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" he asks, ignoring the question he knows Minghao wants to ask him. The reason being, that he doesn't want to lie to the younger. Not again. It's too often, but he doesn't like it at all. It's just something he needs to do for the other to be able to handle everything as well.

The younger boy nods his head, letting a smile invade his face - Junhui likes to see him smile like that.

"The teacher said we could use it," Minghao explains, making his way towards the CD-player in the room. Pulling a familiar album out of his back the older watches him as the music start to play. "It's free every Monday and Thursday."

--

It's been a long time - exactly how long, he doesn't remember - since he last moved around like this. It's the first time since the hospital let go of him, finally done with all the different types of tests, he's been doing this with Minghao. They used to go to practice rooms whenever they could to dance around, when they were younger.

Back when they were younger, both of them dreamt about becoming famous dancers. Things had changed since then. Minghao now wants to become a doctor and Junhui....

Junhui doesn't have a dream anymore. It's useless to him.

--

Things are always easier the second time. The first time it's always something unknown - you don't know what to expect at all. Everything is new - the school, the students, the teachers, everything. But why is Junhui just as nervous as yesterday then?

Focused on walking and preventing himself from wobbling too much, the Chinese boy makes his way down the hallway to his first class. He doesn't know why he's so nervous about this. Maybe it has something to do with the black haired, good looking boy sitting next to him. He doesn't exactly know, but he has a feeling that that might just be it - he hasn't told Minghao about it. The younger boy wouldn't let it go for his life if he knew.

"Junhui!"

Shocked at the sudden exclamation of his name, he turns around, looking for the source of the voice. The deep voice should have given him away, but for some reason he's still surprised, when he comes face to face with the Korean boy as he turns around.

Doing his best not to seem flustered, Junhui looks at him with an interested face.

"Hi," he says, feeling his heart beat fast at the sound of his own voice. Once again, he didn't stutter. A proud smile finds its way to his lips.

Wonwoo smiles at him, knowing nothing about the nervousness the Chinese boy in front of him feels. He has no clue about what's going on in Junhui's head, but Junhui's not sure that he wants him to find out any of it either.

"Excited for class?" the Korean boy asks voice still as low as yesterday, once again making the Chinese boy feel warm in his stomach.

Shrugging his shoulders, Junhui doesn't feel the need to say anything. He settles for just that, somehow knowing that the other will still know what he means.

It's only the second day of this semester -which also means the second day of the Chinese boy going to this school - so it's still new. Yet, for some reason, class is never really going to be exciting at all. Maybe it would be if he could use it for anything, but he can't. Whatever he's learning here will not have any meaning to him in the future - he knows that.

"You don't talk much, huh?"

It doesn't really sound like a question, but then on the other side it could be. Junhui settles for just shrugging once again.

Wonwoo chuckles at that, knowing that he's right. The other doesn't really talk much. Not that he minds. Just looking at the other is enough for him, and that's where he stops himself, wondering why he would think like that.

--

“Try to open and close your hand,” the doctor, Kim Minseok, instructs him doing it himself as well to demonstrate how it’s supposed to be done.

When he does it without any problems, Junhui feels a pride swell in his stomach. The smile on his lips is unintended, but there’s no use in trying to hide how happy he is about this.

“And your legs are fine as well?” Minseok asks before standing up and doing some weird movement that he wants Junhui to repeat.

Once again it’s no problem.

The doctor smiles as well.

It shouldn’t really mean that much, but it’s a good sign – a sign that maybe things will be alright for a small amount of time.

--

The first thing Junhui sees when he gets to the practise room is not something that makes him happy. Actually it does the exact opposite, making him want to yell at something – most likely Minghao.

Minghao is in the practice room, but he’s not alone. Along with him is another boy who’s dancing energetically by his side.

He’s not someone Junhui’s seen before. The blond hair on top of his head and the small eyes are more than unfamiliar to him. It’s nobody he’s seen before – ever.

That’s when Minghao looks his way. The smile that’s placed on his lips falter slowly, when he sees the look on the elder’s face.  Before making his way towards the door – towards Junhui – he turns towards the blond boy and says something to him. The boy glances in his direction and sends him a small smile.

“Don’t get mad please,” Minghao begs the moment he closes the door behind him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips in nervousness.

Junhui hears himself sigh, yet the anger in him doesn’t seem to degrease the least.

“I told you, Minghao,” he sighs angrily. “I don’t want to get close to people.” Except for Wonwoo, he adds to himself in his thoughts. That part isn’t added in words for the younger to hear.

It’s something he’s said in a long time. Ever since they left China to come to Korea, he had told his friend not to try to set him up with new people. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt more people in the end and that’s not something Junhui wants. They both know it’s not something they can prevent at all, yet they can do everything to make it less bad than it could be.

“Junhui, please,” Minghao tries to reason him, “It’s not right for you to keep away from other people. You don’t always need to think about others. Don’t you want to have more friends?”

He does. Of course he wants friends and of course he wants to act as if nothing’s wrong at all, but he can’t. He can’t do that to people, knowing what’ll happen in the end.

Another deep sigh leaves his lips. His hands find their way to his hair, messing up his own hair.

“I promise Soonyoung will be the only one I’ll bring without asking you,” Minghao promises, sincerity in his voice.

No matter how much he wants to tell his friend never to bring this guy again, he can’t bring himself to do it. The begging look on his face along with the sincere worry is enough to make him nod his head.

--

“Look at the person next to you,” Mrs. Lee says in a very serious teacher voice. While looking at the students in the room, she reaches for the piece of chalk and starts writing on the blackboard.

Junhui turns towards Wonwoo as his asked to. Wonwoo’s done the same time and is now staring at him with his dark, warm eyes. A small smile is drawn on his lips and Junhui feels the corners of his own mouth rise a bit in return.

“Your assignment is to describe your partner. Who are they?”

The voice is still serious as it finds its way to the Chinese boy’s ears.

“Let’s get started?” Wonwoo suggests once Mrs. Lee is done explaining and answering the different questions that the students may have had.

They had to describe each other in a poetic way. A use of metaphors and comparisons would give you a better grade, she had said. Junhui’s not sure if his Korean is good enough for this, but at least he’ll try to get an okay grade – even though he’d probably not have anything to use it for.

Eyes focussed on Wonwoo as he takes notes, Junhui realizes that he kind of reminds him a panther. The eyes that belong to the boy are sharp and dark, and the rather round form of his face makes him look a bit like a cat. This mixed with the warm yet somehow dark aura, makes him come to the conclusion that a panther is the best animal to describe the other boy.

Nodding as a sign of approval Junhui reaches for his pencil to scribble down his notes about the boy. Gripping the lone pencil from the table, his eyes widen in horror as it falls right out of his grip. Staring at the hand that was supposed to hold it, he tries to pick it up once again.

The result is the same as before and the pencil falls to the table with a small bang.

Junhui’s gaze wanders between his hand and the pencil. His stomach feels like it’s slowly dropping as he tries to close his hand, only to realize that it’s harder than what it should have been.  

“Something’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, pulling the Chinese boy out of his trance. His eyes are directed towards the latter’s hand.

“No!” the answer comes fast – maybe even too fast. “I’m fine,” he says picking up the pencil a third time. This time he uses his none dominant hand. Not looking at the other boy, he starts to write.

Wonwoo looks at him, yet he doesn’t comment on the clear messiness that is the Chinese boy’s notes. It’s better not to question it, he decides, going back to his own notes.

--

Minghao’s text of ‘I can’t go practice today. :( I have to do school things with someone from class’ told Junhui that it would just be him and Soonyoung today. This was the first time ever since the younger Chinese boy had brought his new friend to their dance practice last week. They hadn’t talked at all the whole week.

Junhui isn’t sure if this is going to be awkward or okay.

“Where’s Minghao?” Soonyoung asks as soon as Junhui enters the room. His bangs are wet and clinging to his forehead, telling Junhui that he had been there at least 30 minutes.

“He’s getting laid,” he says shrugging his shoulders as it’s not that big of a deal.

The Korean boy blinks at him before realization hits him like a rock being thrown right at him. His mouth opens slightly as he lets out an ‘oh’.

“He texted you that?”

Junhui almost laughs, but decides against it and just shakes his head instead.

“He said he had to do school things,” he answers, raising his hands to make quotation marks. At the first try he remembers that his left hand doesn’t actually do what he wants it to, hence he quickly drops his hands down his sides again.

“Minghao doesn’t ditch dance for school things with a friend,” he explains searching Soonyoung’s face for any form for indication that he saw the awkward non-existent movement he tried to make with his hand. There’s nothing that gives away that he’s seen it and Junhui lets out a sigh of relief.

None of them says anything after that. They just move next to each other to do what they love so much.

Junhui likes to move his body. He likes to feel every part of it. It makes him feel alive; hence he doesn’t know how to feel about his hand. This was something he knew would come at some point, but he had dreaded it and hoped that the doctor hadn’t been right.

Knowing that this could be the last time he had the chance to dance while being able to feel his whole body, he falls into the feeling of his everything moving as he does the steps.

The feeling of Soonyoung’s eyes on him is hard to ignore, be he tries to anyways as he does what he’s best at.

It takes about 10 minutes for him before he needs to stop to breathe. It’s hard to get the air into his lungs, and to make it do what it’s supposed to do is even harder. His throat and chest hurt as he tries to breathe at a normal pace. Slumping back against the wall, he lets himself slide down slowly until he’s seated on the floor.

Soonyoung’s by his side the moment he sits down, offering him a water bottle. The cap is still on, making Junhui shake his head at is.

“I can’t open it.” It’s hard to get the words out, but once they’re there Soonyoung’s face lights up in realization and he screws off the cap before offering it once again.

When his breathing is finally calmed, Junhui drowns the bottle and lets his eyes fall on the worried face of the other boy. The way he looks at him, shows that he’s clearly surprised and he wasn’t the least prepared for that.

“I’m fine now, Soonyoung,” Junhui tells him to make him a bit less worried.

Forehead ceased in a frown, Soonyoung doesn’t seem to fully believe him. His hands are shaking slightly when he takes the empty bottle from Junhui’s grip.

“Are you sure?”

Junhui nods. His breathing is back to normal and everything’s fine – except for his hand, but he doesn’t say anything about that.

“This is not the first time,” he decides to tell him, hand placed on his chest as a sign to himself that he is okay and that his heart is back to its normal pace. “Minghao told you, didn’t he?”

It’s worded as a question, but in reality it’s just the little hope he keeps his grip on, that Minghao didn’t tell his biggest secret to someone he doesn’t know at all. Deep down he knows that yes he did tell Soonyoung about him and somehow he can’t get himself to be mad about it.

Soonyoung nods and shrugs his shoulders right after as if he’s not sure if that was the right answer.

“He said you were sick,” the Korean boy tells him, “But he didn’t tell me how. Just that it’s pretty bad.”

He stops after that, letting the words hang free in the air for a bit. Somehow it feels as if he wants Junhui to continue what he’s been saying, but the Chinese boy doesn’t say anything instead just heaving a sigh.

His hands find each other, and one plays with the fingernails on the other hand. It’s like a nervous habit and the noise of nails against each other fills the thick silence that’s erupted after the Korean boy’s words.

“It’s ALS,” Junhui informs him; sinking a mouthful of the water from the bottle Soonyoung had offered him. “My muscles stop working. My lungs are going to stop working too. I’m going to die.”

It doesn’t affect him as much to say it as it would have two months ago. The voice coming from his mouth doesn’t shake at all – which is new, but it’s been quite some time since he told anyone the last time.

Two months ago he’d break down and let the tears choke him up, being unable to say anything at all instead of just letting the tears take over and cry. He had been there and he had gotten over it. Nowadays it felt somehow right to say it.

No words are said by Soonyoung after that. Staring at the Chinese boy, the only sound leaving his mouth is a sigh. The Korean boy just stands up, looking at the other. Patting the still sitting boy on the shoulder, Soonyoung walks over to start a new round of music.

He smiles and sticks his hand out for the other to take. Once up on his legs again, they start to dance as if it was the last time they’d get to do it together.

Who knows, maybe it was going to be the last time.

--

The scariest part about being born is growing up, and realizing that you’re not a child anymore. It’s the part where you have to stand on your own feet and think about the future. It’s when you have to go on after High School and choose what you want to do with your life – what you want to do for a living for the rest of your life.

Junhui’s thought and worried about that a lot. He believed that that was indeed the scariest thing he’d have to do.

He was wrong, he realized.

It was way scarier not having to think about those things.

Junhui doesn’t have a future.

It becomes clear to him, when he feels everything in his body retire and suddenly stop working. Everything in his body does what he had been looking forward to his whole life – it retires, stops working and goes on break instead.

He doesn’t like it.

--

Wonwoo is staring at him – Junhui can feel it. Whenever the teacher is saying something and the Chinese boy looks at him, he feels the other look at him. It’s as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to say it – or maybe he’s just not sure if now is the right time seeing how they’re stuck in class.

Though the constant feeling of eyes clued to the side of his head is pretty distracting at times, the older of the two ignores it until the end of class.

“Why did you stare at me?” Junhui asks, packing his books away into his backpack. It’s hard work with only one hand able to do the job, but he doesn’t give up that easily.

Wonwoo glances at him as he too packs away his books. With surprise in his voice he lets out a small “Oh, you noticed that,” but doesn’t elaborate further on the matter.

Waiting for the Korean boy to answer his question, Junhui keeps on struggling with his bag. It’s still the first book and it hasn’t found its way back into the bag. His attempt isn’t as gentle as it was in the beginning, and with all the failed tries his annoyance grows bigger and bigger – his attempts turning rougher and rougher. There’s still three books waiting for their turn, and the feeling of giving up keeps on creeping closer and closer.

The third time he loses the grip on the bag – his unwell hand is supporting the weight against the table – is the last drop that makes his annoyance and frustration spill over. Before he gets to yell at the bag, there are hands taking it from him.

“I wanted to ask if your hand had gotten better,” Wonwoo tells him gently as he places the other’s books into the bag. It doesn’t even take him two minutes and Junhui’s not sure whether he’s annoyed that it was so easy, or if he’s thankful for the other’s help. Seeing the hesitating smile his friend sends him, he settles for the latter.

“I guess it hasn’t,” he adds, giving the bag back to its owner with a small smile.

The sentence is more like a statement and conclusion than anything else. There’s not the least questioning tone to it, nor is it comforting in anyways. If he hadn’t known better, Junhui would have thought that there was a bit sadness of it, but that couldn’t be it.

“I guess you’re right,” Junhui sighs, mostly to himself, taking the bag from the other.

The look Wonwoo sends him as he walks by to exit the room, gives of the fact that he really wants to ask about it, yet he doesn’t.

Junhui’s thankful that he doesn’t, because he dreads questions about his condition – about him. It’s not even half of the questions that he’s able to answer anyways.

--

Minghao was bound to find out about it at some point. Of course he would find out about it – they lived together. It wasn’t possible for it to be kept a secret for that long.

The younger boy stares at him, expression unreadable. There’s a short glimpse of hurt in his eyes, but at the same time the look of anger seems to blend with it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the younger Chinese boy asks, taking his friend’s hand in his. It’s turned and looked at a lot, in depth. The hurt is very clear in his voice, and Junhui finds himself facing the ground instead of his friend in front of him.

He wants to lie and tell the other that he doesn’t know. Something makes him unable to lie, instead just keeping his mouth shut for now.

The thing is that if he voices his reasons, Minghao will yell at him. He would probably tell him to it all up and be an adult for once – he wouldn’t mean it. That’s just how he copes with all the things going on with his best friend. It is way easier to be angry than to be sad.

Another reason is that he doesn’t want Minghao to feel like he does. The hope he knew was still inside of the younger would disappear – just like it had with him. Until the moment he had dropped his pencil, Junhui had fully believed that there was a small – very tiny – chance that the doctors were wrong, and that he just had some weird cold.

Now, however, that hope was gone and he knew the doctors were right.

Feeling his eyes get teary, Junhui decides to leave the room. Without letting his eyes land on Minghao once, he gets up from the couch and leaves.

No explanation is given, but somehow the older Chinese boy is sure that the younger already knows the answer to his own question. They’ve known each other for far too long – of course he knows.

--

Something changes after that.

Minghao suddenly has a lot of school to concentrate on, resulting in him arriving home late at night, when Junhui’s already asleep or about to be. At the same time he’s always gone before Junhui gets out of bed in the morning.

The older of the two doesn’t blame his friend. The hope that he had tried to protect – to be able to be kept inside of the other – had been out of him, just like it had been to Junhui himself.

--

It’s been a long time since Junhui’s eaten something else than soup. The fear of choking and dying had simply been too big, yet for some reason all of that seems to disappear the Wonwoo asked if he wanted to go eat meat after school. The urge to reject his offer had been there – of course it had – but without giving it much thought he had accepted.

“This is really good,” Junhui says chewing far more times than he would have a couple of months ago. Despite the slightly weird consistence from all the chewing, it still almost melts on his tongue. It’s been months. He almost forgot how great actual meat was – not the over soaked meat from different soups.

He knows that Minghao would probably tell him not to eat it if he was there, but for now Junhui’s going to enjoy and savour the meat.

Wonwoo smiles at him and chuckles.

“When was the last time you ate meat?” he asks, amused at how much the other eats.

A shrug is sent his way and he can’t help the smile, when the Chinese boy mutters out an ‘I don’t know’.

The simple sentence might have sounded like a joke, or more of an exaggerated version of an otherwise really simple reply. But in reality it wasn’t. Junhui wasn’t sure if he answered like that because he simply didn’t remember, or if it was because it would be too embarrassing to say that it’s been months. Who went months without eating real meat – except if you’re a vegetarian?

Wonwoo looks at him all seriously for a second, but then he chuckles and shakes his head slightly.

“I was about to ask you if you were a vegetarian,” he admits, “but you can’t be since you’re eating meat now.” It’s finished by a nod towards the meat that’s on the way to the Chinese boy’s mouth.

Junhui laughs at that and shakes he’s head. He doesn’t seem like it, but his brain is running fast in an attempt to come up with an excuse. When he has said yes to going out with Wonwoo, he frankly speaking hadn’t expected the other to notice how happy he was to eat meat again.

Before getting to say anything, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Placing his chopsticks down as naturally as he can, he uses the same hand to fish the phone out of his pocket. Despite his attempt, he knows that Wonwoo notices how hard he’s trying to avoid using his bad hand.

When the phone is finally out, he looks at it, only to see a message from Minghao.

‘Where are you?’

That’s it. No emoji or anything else. It’s just three words, and Junhui doesn’t know how to feel about them. On one side his friend isn’t angry enough at him to not care about him, but on the other side the messaged seems so unlike the boy he’s known since he was five.

With a small, quiet sigh he replies with an ‘out with Wonwoo’.

From there he doesn’t expect another message, but he doesn’t get to place his phone down, before another message from Minghao comes.

‘Who’s Wonwoo?’

Junhui looks at the words, and something seems to crash inside of him. This was another thing he had kept from his best friend. This was another thing that would hurt Minghao. The regret rushes over him, as he imagines the disappointed look of his friend, when he realized that Junhui was keeping even more things from him. He’s not sure if he can forgive himself.

With another sigh, he replies to the message, telling him that it’s a friend from class. The reply he gets to that is a simple ‘ok’ and his heart seem to break a bit.

A worried look is thrown in his direction, when he returns to the meat. He just sends a small smile back, telling the other that it’s okay.

But if it’s okay, why does the meat suddenly not taste as great anymore?

--

What he had expected, when Soonyoung had invited him to the party was loud music, drunk people and a lot of people – the Korean boy seemed like the popular type with a lot of friends. Hence it’s quite a surprise, when he’s only met by a small group of people. Exactly how many he doesn’t know, but it is way less than the hundred he had expected.

Soonyoung had greeted him at the door before pulling him inside, introducing him to a lot of people that’d he had only seen around campus before. This however, only lasted until the next person came through the door, and Junhui was left alone for the first time that night.

That is the short version of how he ended up standing in a corner by himself, silently regretting that he went to this without Minghao.

Looking at his phone, he almost flinches when someone touches his shoulder lightly. With big, shocked eyes he turns around only to be met by a familiar, beautiful smile – it’s Wonwoo.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” he says, his deep voice sending waves of comfort through Junhui. It’s the first time he’s actually feeling good since Soonyoung left him.

Wanting to say something, but at the same time not knowing what to say, Junhui keeps his mouth closed. He didn’t even know that Wonwoo and Soonyoung knew each other – but then if he thought about it, Soonyoung knew everyone, so why not Wonwoo?

“I didn’t know you would be here