Finishing the melody, Yunho turned to look at Jae. He was asleep. Carefully, Yunho slipped one arm under his brother’s legs and lifted him up, as gently as a father lifts his own child. With Jaejoong cradled in his arms, Yunho carried him back to his room and set him down in the bed. Gently, he lifted the covers, pulling them up to Jae’s chin. And bending low, he Jae’s face once, before placing a kiss on his forehead, tenderly, almost reverentially. And then Yunho walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
* * *
The sunlight spilled over the window sill the next morning, washing over Yunho, as he lay asleep. The warmth that flooded over him woke the young man and he opened his eyes to find that he lay in a pool of sunlight.

And for just one moment, he lay still. In the quiet of his room, bathed in the morning’s glow, the day had not yet begun. As he lay in his bed, wrapped up in soft covers, his head cradled in a feather down pillow, all around him was quiet. He could hear himself breathe; he could feel the gentle pulse of his own heart as it beat steadily within his chest. In the morning lull, Yunho could gaze languidly out the window, watching the leaves of a nearby tree rustle ever so slightly in a shallow breeze. Laying in bed, basking in the sun’s light, Yunho could do-nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Right now, at this very moment, he had no responsibility, no reason to get up. No reason to start the day. Right now, he could lay like this until morning turned to afternoon. He could watch the pool of sunlight meander its way down his body, till it got to his feet and disappear into evening. Right now, there was no office to go to, no commute to be made. Right now, Yunho was the only one. There was no one else. He was alone. No one relied on him; no one needed him. He was, for this one brief glorious moment-free.

Free from what?

The young shook his head at the melodrama of his thoughts, smiled to himself at the poetry of his reverie. Not necessarily of a romantic nature, Yunho wondered where those whimsical thoughts came from. Free. Ha! What chain held him? To what was he bound? To whom?

Shaking his head once more, Yunho sat up in bed. Almost as if by a switch, his mind began to click away at what needed to be done today and in what order. Obvious things like washing up and getting Jae ready for school did not receive time in the front of his mind. Right now, what Yunho needed to think about was when he needed to leave work in order to pick Jae up from school. He wondered if he should give Jae a note to give to the teacher saying that he (Jae) had to leave early today as he had an appointment at the doctor. A note like that would hardly be thought twice of in Jae’s school. Going to the doctor there was as natural and as everyday as brushing one’s teeth. Of course, if Jae were to get off school early, than Yunho needed to leave work early in order to pick him up. No. Yunho would just risk that he and Jae would be late.

And there was, of course, the thought, the worry of how to tell Jae that he had a doctor’s appointment today. Granted it was routine, and Jae had been going to the same doctor on the first Tuesday of every month for years. Most of the time, it was more about getting that prescription filled fresh than it was about anything else as Jae’s check-ups were brief and always positive. But telling Jaejoong that he was going to the doctor was always a problem. Yunho couldn’t remember a time when his brother agreed compliantly to go. No tears. No whining. No temper tantrums. Usually there was one out of the three, if not all three.

So, every time Yunho was faced with how to tell Jae. Experience had taught him not to tell his brother right away, as soon as he woke up. Mornings for the young man were difficult; he tended to be more sensitive than usual, more emotional. Telling Jaejoong then would result in tears and a refusal to move from the bed at all. There was the second option of telling Jaejoong on the way to school. Yet, for as many times as Yunho tried this, it never worked. Given that Jaejoong was not always terribly excited about going to school in the first place, telling him that something perceivably unpleasant was going to happen to him later only caused him to be distracted in school and difficult to manage.

Of course it was quite another matter to tell Jae in terms of tonight being “Boys Night.” The name, which Jae made up himself, meant that Yoochun and his room-mate Junsu came over to the house, with movies watched and pizza eaten. It was an attempted weekly get-together. Jae adored the time spent. And while he was often on the outside of the conversations, Yunho had looked over at his brother’s face countless times and saw Jae’s features lit up in absolute delight. These nights were among his favorites. So, to tell Jaejoong that he would only get to have Boys Night if went to the doctor was the best method to get him to go.

As Yunho was washing his face he thought about the time a counselor, in all her limitless knowledge, had told him at some conference for caretakers, that methods like this were bribery and he should refrain from them as much as possible. He smiled then as he did now. After all, as one father, leaning in close had told him, it was only bribery if it didn’t work.

Coming out of the bathroom, Yunho slipped on a pair of jeans and one of his countless polo shirts, much appreciated as they did not need to be ironed, and time for such luxuries was not always to be had. He took a quick comb to his hair and for one moment, surveyed his appearance in the mirror. And this morning, as every other morning, he came to the same conclusion: not bad, not great. His own injustice to himself was known to everyone except the young man, himself.

Going down the hallway, Yunho came upon Jaejoong’s room. Carefully, he opened the door and peered inside. The delicate face half-covered by a pillow, the sheets twisted up terribly and falling off, and one arm hanging off the bed all showed Jae to still be asleep. Slipping past the door, Yunho walked over to his brother’s bed and sat down on the edge. The bed creaked under his weight; Jaejoong’s eyes fluttered, but he did not awaken. Yunho called his name, softly. But still the young man did not wake. So, gently, as sudden noises and sensations startled Jaejoong, Yunho lay his hand on Jae’s back and began to rub the slender frame very carefully. And at his touch, at he feel of the strong hand, Jaejoong smiled.

Suddenly, the dark eyes fluttered open and Jae was awake.
Yunho looked at him. The dark eyes were still blurred and far away, still gazing upon a sweet dream. Not yet ready to look upon this world. His cheeks were faintly flushed, warm as he was under the covers, lending to those dear features a glow, a light unlike any to be found among men. And his hair, swept up in the whirlwind of slumber, fell charmingly about his face, unkempt and unruly.

Truly, he was lovely. And for a moment, all Yunho could do was gaze at this being who, he often felt sure, was not of this world.

“Good morning, Yunho.”

The young man pulled himself out of his thoughts. “Morning Jae.”

Jaejoong sat up, trying at the same time to unravel his legs from the possessive covers and push one particularly determined lock of hair away from his face. He was several minutes at this before he spoke again.

“Yunho,” he asked, now comfortable. “What are we doing today?”

“We,” replied the young man, “Are going to have breakfast in a little while. But not before you go and wash up. And then I am going to drop you off at school while I go to work.”

Jaejoong smiled at his brother’s play on words, nodded and sprung out of his bed, and into the bathroom.

At first Yunho listened to hear if Jae was really washing up. Satisfied by the sound of running water, Yunho stood up and moved over to Jaejoong’s closet so he could lay out what Jae would wear today. True, Jaejoong was completely capable of doing this himself, but it was far more expedient if Yunho did it instead. Otherwise there would be much time spent, more time than they had in the morning to spend, deciding what Jaejoong was to wear that day.
Yunho reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of khaki slacks, folded carefully so as not to wrinkle. Then he moved over to the closet and slipped a dark blue shirt off the hanger. Both shirt and pants in hand, he lay them on the bed, took a moment a grab a pair of socks, as Jae had been known to walk out the door before with no socks on just because Yunho forgot to put them out, and left the room to get breakfast started.

The phone rang as Yunho stepped into the kitchen. Catching the receiver up in his hand, he glanced at the screen to see who was calling. The screen read “Dobbs.” Yunho’s boss. Quickly, Yunho pushed the phone to his ear and pressed the “talk” button.

“Hello, Mr. Dobbs,” he greeted, as cheerfully as possible. “Good morning, sir.”

“Ah, good morning Yunho. I know I don’t normally call you at home, but I just wanted to check and make sure you were ready for the meeting this afternoon at two.”

Aish! The meeting! It had slipped his mind.

Yunho was the head of the packaging department at the plant, spending most of his time at a desk, shuffling through papers, all of which demanded his immediate attention but managed to all say very much the same thing. The meeting he should have remembered had been a solitary sticky-note posted to his computer screen last week. Given that Yunho attended countless meetings, he no more than glanced at the note. If he had looked longer, the young man would have seen that the meeting fell on the same day as Jae’s doctor’s appointment.

Yunho drummed his fingers on the counter for a moment, thinking how he was to tell his boss that he would have to leave that meeting early.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready-”

“Good! I’m glad to hear-”

“But Mr. Dobbs. I’m going to have to get out of there early. My brother has a doctor’s appointment.”

A heavy sigh sunk through the phone line. Yunho waited for his boss to speak actual words.

“Well,” he spoke slowly, “I understand. But I wish you had told me about this earlier, Yunho. I don’t like my employees to leave our meetings.”

“Yes, sir. Of course. I do apologize. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

A unintelligible mumble served as both his boss’ response and good-bye.
Yunho hung up the phone. He didn’t like that he would have to miss the meeting. Well, to be more exact, he didn’t like that he had neglected to be prepared. How many countless little notes did he read everyday to miss the one he really needed to read?

Possibly, Yunho would have bemoaned that situation longer had he not heard Jae coming down the stairs.

THUMP!

“Jae!” Yunho cried. “How many times have I told you not to jump down the stairs? Go back up and come down again.”

The young man listened as his brother’s soft steps went back up the stairs, only to come back down again.

He smiled to himself. Every morning. Every morning Jae jumped those stairs and every morning Yunho told him not to.

Absent-mindedly, Yunho wondered if ever there was a morning Jae didn’t jump, what that might mean. But he shook the thought from himself and turned his attention to the breakfast he was trying to cook.
* * *
Late afternoon found Yunho outside of the school, waiting for Jaejoong to come out. Really, he had a few minutes; the bell hadn’t rang yet. Yunho raced from the meeting to make sure he got to the school on time; now he was early.
But it left him time to think. He wondered how Jae fared during the day knowing that he had to go to the doctor. Usually the result of such knowledge had an immediate effect on Jaejoong. Suddenly, where once he seemed to be a butterfly flitting about from flower to flower, practically carried by the wind itself-suddenly all the color drained from Jae. His back slipped into a deep slouch and it was hard to get him to look up. Suddenly, all his responses were minimal, almost monosyllabic.

And every time Yunho told him, he felt as if his words were tinged with some kind of coldness that frosted his younger brother’s colorful world. And he had done it. Himself.

Standing outside, Yunho waited to see Jaejoong walk out. And after a moment or two, after the bell rang, he saw, walking slowly, with head down and backpack dragging on the ground, Jaejoong coming towards him. His feet seemed to be stuck to the ground, he walked so slow. Yunho called for him to hurry. The words, surely heard, went unnoticed. And Jaejoong continued at his slow advance.

Glancing at his watch, Yunho saw that they would be late if Jae didn’t hurry. So, he met Jaejoong half-way, slipped his arm around him and hustled Jae into the car. Whining, Jae tried to push Yunho’s arm away and break free of his brother’s grasp. But Yunho was too quick and too strong for him; the effort was futile and in a moment, Jae, much against his pleasure, was sitting in the car on his way to the doctor.
* * *
Sitting in the waiting room, Jae nestled himself as much up against Yunho as he could. He buried his face in Yunho’s shoulder and sought for the strong hand to hold his own.

With one arm around Jae and the other holding his hand, Yunho tried to soothe, with words, the tremor, the tremble that rippled over Jaejoong’s body every so often. His words were somewhat incoherent, never really a sentence. But he knew that what Jae really needed right now, apart from the sensation of nearness, was to hear his voice. That was all. It didn’t matter what he said; it mattered only that the sound of his voice was right next to Jae, as close to him as possible.

Some moments passed before Yunho, out of the corner of his eye, saw Dr. Mead. An elderly man, grown worn and gentle in a profession wholly dedicated to preserving life, he had been Jae’s doctor since the accident.

Practically pulling Jae up to stand, Yunho came over to the doctor.

“Well, well,” came the oddly soothing, raspy voice. “Someone didn’t want to see me today.”

Yunho smiled at the doctor and looked at Jaejoong. “Jae, Dr. Mead is talking to you.”

For an answer, Jaejoong stomped his foot.

This was an old game and Yunho was used to it. Standing here, waiting for Jae to be ready was useless. And while it seemed suddenly cruel on his part, while other people in the waiting room stared at Yunho, the young man wrenched his hand out from Jae’s, despite Jaejoong fighting to keep hold, and nearly pushed Jae into the doctors’ grasp. The doctor knew how to play this game too. And as deft as Yunho’s movements were, as practiced, Dr. Mead was a sharp player and took his new, unwilling charge in a steady grasp.

Yunho watched Jaejoong go down the hallway and into Dr. Mead’s office. Then he went back to his seat, met by some very disapproving looks of mothers.

Jaejoong’s check-ups were never long and shortly Yunho was sitting in the office with Dr. Mead while Jaejoong dug through a basket of prizes in an adjacent room, wholly visible from the office by a large plate-glass window.
This time between them was nearly as routine as the check-up itself. Dr. Mead always took some time with Yunho, alone, to tell him how the exam had gone. The time was usually pleasantly spent. Why should today be any different?

“So,” Yunho began. “How is he?”

“As healthy as can be,” answered Dr. Mead. “Not happy, at first I grant you. But healthy. And I should have that medication filled for you in a bit. I gave it to the nurse.”

“That’s fine,” Yunho replied, affably. “I never have to use it, really.”

“ I suppose that’s true. When was the last time you used it?”

Suddenly Yunho felt a chill steal over him.
Why did the doctor have to bring that up? The last time he had used that medication-that day-Yunho wondered if something inside him had died.

That day.

That day Yunho wondered why he had gotten out of bed at all. At that time, Jaejoong had been sick for several weeks; it just seemed as if no medicine was working. No matter what pill they tried, no matter the injection, Jae was dreadfully ill. In those days, Yunho practically never left his side. For hours on end, he would sit by Jae’s bedside, wiping the pale brow clean of perspiration, changing the sheets as Jae’s constant sweating soaked them through. He was there to help Jaejoong to the bathroom when fits of nausea overcame him. And when they didn’t make it in time, Yunho changed Jae’s shirt, his pants, cleaned him off.

At that time, day and night were one to Yunho. He never slept, but for a few hours. Food meant nothing to him. All he could do was watch Jae. And while he tried not admit it to himself, while he tried to say that he was fine, that this was his responsibility-as the days wore on, Yunho grew weary. His eyes burned; it hurt to blink. Not having had time to bathe, he reeked from sweat and retch. His skin was starting to itch and burn from all the cleaning fluids he used to keep Jae’s room clean. When he lifted his hands, they shook uncontrollably. A raw, creeping feeling stole over him. Distractedly, he wondered if might go crazy.

And one night, supporting Jae in his arms, helping him walk to the bathroom, something happened.

Even now, looking back on it, Yunho couldn’t tell what happened.

But that night, as he helped Jaejoong, suddenly, Yunho let go. He just didn’t have the strength to take one more step. Jae tumbled to the ground. Yunho staggered back against a wall.

Just one moment. That was all he needed. Just one moment to breathe and then he would be fine. But Jaejoong must have looked up, must have seen that wretched expression on his brother’s face. This was not his Yunho. This was not his brother!

And what followed-Yunho still felt that gasping hollow sensation rise up within him. Suddenly a howl, not of this world, filled the room. Yunho looked down to see Jae on the floor, writhing, screaming, tearing at his own face. His cries were inhuman. His movements were sharp and spasmodic. The lovely pale skin was blotching red and purple. Jae struggled to breathe.

Aghast at what he was seeing, Yunho froze. The sight was at once horrifying and fascinating. He stood there, doing nothing. What shot him into motion, he never knew. But all at once, he raced to plunge a syringe filled with a calming serum into Jae’s arm, fighting to find the proper vein.

And the feeling of sticking a needle into Jae’s arm-

“Yunho?” asked the doctor, alarmed by the sudden strange expression on the young mans’ face. “Are you okay?”

Distractedly, Yunho looked up. “Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he answered, a heavy sigh escaping him. “I was just thinking about the last time I did have to use that medication.”

He paused and said suddenly, “So, what do you think, doctor?”

“About what?”

“About Jae.”

“What about him? He’s as healthy as they come. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yea. But I mean,” Yunho paused, as if unsure how to go on. “I mean, does he seem better to you? You know, more-mature.”

Dr. Mead looked over his shoulder at Jae who was digging excitedly through the prize basket.

“Does he suddenly seem more mature to you, Yunho?”

“Well, no. I mean, last night he crawled in bed with me. But-I don’t know.” Yunho stood up and walked over to the glass window. “He-he could be. . .Doctor, you see him. Sometimes I look at him, I think about who he is and I-I don’t know. I mean I see girls stop and stare when they see him. Of course,” and here Yunho laughed somewhat, “They stare if he’s holding my hand too. But-Jae could be-”

“So much better if he was normal?”

Yunho spun around at the sudden vocalization of his thoughts. The doctor looked hard upon him.

“What are you saying Yunho? Why are you torturing yourself with thoughts like that? It’s not fair. To you. Or Jaejoong.”

“Look at him! He’s never gonna be part of this world! He’s never gonna have a normal life. I’ll always be there for him. I-”

“Do you resent that?”

“What? No. Of course not. I meant that Jae could be so much more if he weren’t-”

“Listen Yunho, I don’t want to open up a moral discussion with you on the quality of life but, let me ask you something. Is Jae happy?”

“Er, well-yea but-”

“The people around him, his teachers, your friends-do you see how much joy he brings to them? How Jaejoong can walk in a room and light it up. His charm, his stunning features, his undeniable talent at the piano. Those around him, love him, cherish him. Tell me, Yunho. Isn’t that life? To be loved and love? Jaejoong adores his world. Every day to him is a gift. There are very few people in this world who can live like that. And there are some who would give up everything to be able to.”

Yunho looked down.

“And he adore you, Yunho. At the center of his world, you’re there. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“And you love him, yes?”

“Yes! But I-I want-”

“I want you to stop this. It’s not right, Yunho. Thoughts like these, don’t harbor them. They’re dangerous. I’d hate to see something happen to you, to Jaejoong out of this.”

Yunho waved a careless hand, assuming a light tone of voice, trying to regain himself. “Don’t be dramatic, Dr. Mead. I was just saying-”

But right at that moment, Jaejoong burst through the door, proudly holding a small toy, shaped like a duck for Yunho to see. He practically slammed himself into Yunho’s arms, pushing the young man into the wall. Yunho couldn’t help but laugh and the moment before was lost.