Junhong’s eyes widened as the monitor emitted a shrill, steady sound. He ran to the edge of the hospital bed. “Jongup? Jongup!” He frantically pushed the intercom button above the bed. “We need a doctor here! Room 206! Please…come quickly…” He broke down at those last words.

 

                       

                        It was just a normal Wednesday night. Or at least, it was normal so far.

 

                        Jongup bought their favorite take-out on the way home from work. Junhong was already home, as usual, when he got there. He placed the food on the table and called Junhong, who was dealing with extra paperwork in the living room.

 

                        “One client, Mr. Jung, changed his mind at the last minute,” Junhong grumbled as he slid into his seat. “But at least he’s taking the bigger house down the street. I could get more commission from that.” He reached for the chopsticks. “How’s work today?”

 

                        “Oh, the usual,” Jongup said, loosening his tie and undoing the first two buttons of his white long-sleeved polo. He seemed to have a slight cold. “I spent the whole day sitting down, taking calls, typing reports on the computer…my hurts.”

 

                        Junhong laughed. “Do you want me to massage it for you?”

 

                        “Later?” Jongup chuckled.

 

                        When they finished eating, Junhong stood up and started to clean the table. “I’ll do it,” Jongup told him, taking the take-out boxes off his hands. “Go back to your paperwork so you could finish them early.”

 

                        “You sure? Okay, thanks.”

 

                        Junhong had just settled down in front of the coffee table when he heard a crash in the dining room. “Hey, you okay back there?” he called out.

 

                        “Y-yeah,” Jongup answered faintly.

 

                        Junhong went to the dining room to make sure. He found Jongup struggling to get up, an overturned chair beside him. “What happened?” he asked worriedly, helping Jongup up.

 

                        “I just got dizzy and fell. Don’t worry too much.”

 

                        Junhong put a hand on Jongup’s forehead. “You’re burning! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?!”

 

                        “I’m fine, Junhong, really,” Jongup said, picking up the chopsticks from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

                        “No, Moon Jongup.” Junhong took the chopsticks from the older guy. “Go to bed.” He shooed him to the bedroom.

 

                        Three days had passed. Jongup’s fever seemed to get worse. He complained of back pains and exhaustion, even though he stayed in bed all day. He also wasn’t eating much, saying he had no appetite.

 

                        Junhong was extremely bothered and brought Jongup to the nearest hospital on the fourth day.

 

                        “We conducted some tests,” the doctor told Junhong. “Please come back for the results in three days. Meanwhile, he has to take these every six hours for three days.”

 

                        Junhong took the tablets. “Thank you, Dr. Yoo. I-it’s not that bad, isn’t it? His illness…it’s just a really bad case of fever, isn’t it?”

 

                        “We’re not sure yet, Mr. Choi, until we get the results of the tests. But let’s hope for the best,” the doctor told him, getting up from behind his desk. “Well, I still have to do my rounds…ahh! I just remembered. I’m off-duty this coming Wednesday. Mr. Moon is Dr. Kim’s cousin, isn’t he? I’ll just leave the test results to him.”

 

                        “Yes, Dr. Yoo, thanks,” Junhong said, also getting up to leave.

 

                        Wednesday came. Jongup had been sick for a week and he still isn’t showing any signs of getting better. In fact, it looked like he had gotten worse as each day passes. He would have occasional chest pains and nosebleeds. He complained of a stabbing pain when he goes to pee. Junhong was restless; he didn’t know what to do.

 

                        He went to the hospital at exactly two o’clock to get the test results from Jongup’s cousin, Dr. Kim Himchan. He asked their neighbor, Yongguk, to look after Jongup for a while.

 

                        Junhong fidgeted in his seat while waiting for Himchan in his office.

 

                        “J-Junhong-ah…” Himchan sounded anguished. He was holding a huge brown envelope in his hands.

 

                        Junhong stood up, anxiety painted on his face.”Hyung? What…what is it? T-tell me, hyung,” he pleaded.

 

                        Himchan sat behind his desk, his face pained and mournful. This could only mean bad news. “Jongup…Jongup h-has a-acute…acute myeloid leukemia…”

 

                        Junhong sank back into his seat. “No…no…it can’t be…”

 

                        “Stage 4. T-terminal case…Junhong-ah…” Tears formed on Himchan’s eyes. His favorite cousin…

 

                        “I-I have to get home to him, hyung. Thank you.” Junhong stood up, staring into space, tears sliding down his cheeks one by one. He refused to believe that his lover was leaving him.

 

 

                        Junhong stood by the window, gripping the curtains tightly. It had been six months. He looked on as the doctors tried to revive Jongup, his eyes swimming with tears, pleading for a second chance. He sank to the floor, almost pulling the curtains with him.

 

                        “Clear.” Dr. Yoo brought the defibrillator down on Jongup’s bare chest. No response. Jongup’s heart rate had dropped dangerously.

 

                        Junhong jumped up and ran towards him, pushing the nurses and doctors out of the way. They tried to hold him back but he was bigger than most of them, and he overpowered them. He held Jongup in his arms, ears on his partner’s chest, desperately searching for that familiar thumping, the steady beating of Jongup’s heart when he was fast asleep.

 

                        “Mr. Choi, please get off him!” Dr. Yoo shouted, trying to pull Junhong away from Jongup’s body.

 

                        “Please…just let me hear his heartbeat…I just want to hear his heartbeat…” Junhong whispered, arms still protectively wrapped around Jongup.

 

                        “Mr. Choi, please,” Dr. Yoo pleaded for the fifth time; the first three fell on deaf ears. “Do you want to save him or not?!”

 

                        That last sentence seemed to jolt Junhong back to his senses. Of course he wanted to save him; Jongup was more than the world to him. He stepped back a little, fingers trailing down Jongup’s arm until they reached his hand, which he held tightly.

 

                        “Thank you,” Dr. Yoo said, irritation in his voice. He brought the defibrillator down on Jongup’s chest once more. Jongup’s heart rate was almost down to zero.

 

                        “Please…please don’t take him away from me…” Junhong whispered, raising his eyes to the sky. His cheeks glinted with tears in the bright light of the hospital room. “I need him. I love him.”

 

                        The doctor brought the defibrillator down on Jongup’s chest once again. This time, it was the last.