STORY #3: To Have and To Hold

So Junghwan was twelve years old when he first met Doyoung while commuting home from school one dreary October afternoon. Classes never interests him, and he begged to pardon every honor student in his classroom for blaming him for why their section ranked low during the midyear assessment. Moreso, he disliked class ranking. Not only does class rank develop a resentment between students competing over who has a higher class rank, but it also causes students to care less about their learning and to think in a less meaningful way. He decided o went home early that day.

The streets of Seoul looked extravagant but when he was turning the corner, intending to pick some feeds up for his goldfish at the nearby convenience store, his left foot caught on something and he tripped. Too late, Junghwan realized a boy was sitting, slumped over against the brick wall of the corner store.

Alarmed, he dropped to his knees and lifted the boy's head to check for a pulse. To his relief, the boy's eyelashes fluttered slightly, casting shadows against pale, almost translucent cheeks. Junghwan reached for the boy's hands hesitantly, finding them just as cold as his face.

“Hey,” Junghwan shook the boy rather violently in his attempt to awaken the boy’s sleeping nerve cells. “You okay?”

The boy muttered some words that Junghwan could not understand.

“I’m okay,” Doyoung replied, finally. The other guy’s eyes opened wide and he gave Junghwan a mischievous smile before standing up, dusting the noticeable soil sticking on his pants and his hands.

“I am just doing some social experiment if some people will help me. This is for a school project. Thanks for helping me,” Doyoung continued, taking a small notebook out from his pocket and writing something on one of the pages. “You’re the first person to ever asked me if I was fine, like seriously though, I have been here an hour ago and multiple people have passed by. Seriously, where is the kindness in humanity? Because of you,” he pointed at Junghwan who looked confused, “I have faith in humanity. Thank you very much.”

Doyoung walked away.

Junghwan was fifteen when he saw Doyoung for the second time. He nearly didn't recognize the man when he saw him meandering about the bookstore like a lost puppy.

Junghwan took a glance at the younger boy. He's not much shorter than Junghwan, the top of his head resting on his chin, but it's enough for him to gaze down at him. Junghwan felt Doyoung is far too thin, with his elbows showing like bends in winter tree branches and his cheekbones protruding from beneath the skin. He does, however, look adorable with his baby cheeks and braces all over his teeth.

Junghwan was on the lookout for a new novel. He enjoyed reading books in addition to karate and basketball. He has already finished the books that his mother purchased for him. This time, he opted to read what he wanted.

Junghwan believed that books not only evoke his imagination, they also took him to a different world altogether. By doing so, he was able to enhance his reading skills, vocabulary, and understanding of situations. After all these knowledge, he still cannot understand Kim Doyoung though, and that seemed to be his problem.

There’s an array of books on the shelf and Junghwan purposely moved next to Doyoung to see what he is up to.

“Hey, can I see that?” Doyoung noticed him, and Junghwan nodded.

“Chronicles of Narnia,” Doyoung read the title out loud. “The Chronicles of Narnia is a series of seven fantasy novels by British author C. S. Lewis. Illustrated by Pauline Baynes and originally published between 1950 and 1956, The Chronicles of Narnia has been adapted for radio, television, the stage, film, and video games. It’s a shame they stopped producing the movie series, I loved the Pevensies.” He stopped and looked at Junghwan. “Did you know all these?”

“No,” Junghwan replied, amazed by the shorter.

“I’m Kim Doyoung, by the way,” Doyoung held out his hand, Junghwan accepted it and gave it a light shake.

“Junghwan, So Junghwan.”

“Cool.”

Doyoung turned around when his name is heard from the end of the aisle. “I have to go, my friends are calling me.”

Junghwan nodded and smiled at the shorter boy.

He was sixteen when he got a new neighbor.

Junghwan noticed a large moving truck parked in front of a house across the street. He noticed furniture being dragged and carried up the long driveway, including a variety of colors and shapes of couches and tables. He noticed a massive black couch that would not fit through the front door. He waited until the movers decided to go to the back and squeeze it through the back door.

When the big truck left, a minivan parked in front of the house. Junghwan observed a couple standing on the front lawn, looking in from the street.

A few seconds later, another truck arrived on the street and a few movers were carrying out some furniture including a grand piano. They stop several times, adjusting the wooden piano that appeared too heavy for their strengths in total.

Junghwan smiled. At least not drums, he doesn’t like the sound of banging drums.

Junghwan woke up the next morning to the sound of a beautiful melody. He slumped back against his bed and pulls the covers over himself. It’s summer and he doesn’t like getting up early. The clock on his table reads only past nine; way too early for a summer day.

He faintly heard his mother talking as he drifted in and out of sleep. Junghwan curled up under his blanket, the air conditioning being too cold and shivers running throughout his body.

“Junghwan, darling, are you awake?” His mother’s voice is heard through his door. It brought him back out of his dream state. Junghwan lets out a quiet grumble, too sleepy to properly make words come from his lips. “The boy next door has come over to say hello.”

Junghwan already drifted back to sleep when his mother walked into the room. Her body makes the bed creak as she sat down next to him, fingers tugging at the blanket that covers most of his body. He lets out a mumble of ‘got it, mom,’ and ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

The boy waited in the living room, in front of their piano. His dad bought one in his attempt to learn it but never got the chance to do so when he got busy with his work.

“Feels so holy holy holy holy…” the boy sang while letting his shoulder move up and down due to the massive transfer of weight from the piano keys.

“Oh, here he comes now,” he heard his mother announce while preparing something on the table. The visitor stopped singing.

Junghwan rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs at a slow pace. He recognized the Justin Bieber song, and it sounded different in the boy’s mouth. It sounded much better. His fingers grip the railing, making sure he doesn’t fall due to his eyes being barely open. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he saw the boy.

A year has passed and Kim Doyoung looked much different from the previous year. His hair color has changed from raven black to an abundance of chocolate brown locks, his bangs looking too long and needing to be pushed to the side every few seconds. He’s taller than he used to be, the top of his head reaching Junghwan’s eyes and Junghwan no longer has to tilt his head completely to look down at him. He’s still far too skinny. Elbows stick out and wrists look as if they’ll break with one twitch.

Doyoung doesn’t give him the look that Junghwan gave him. No sense of familiarity as usual. He wondered if Doyoung remembered him from the bookstore a year ago. Maybe he was too young to remember such a simple thing as meeting someone in an aisle.

Junghwan remembered it though. He remembered the smart shorter guy that made him smile, wondering if he’d have the intelligence forever. Junghwan looked at Doyoung’s lips, trying to see any traces of familiarity that would come up from his mouth. He remembered it all too well.

“Hi, I’m Doyoung.” He did not remember. “And this piano felt stiff, looks like it has not been used in many years.”

“Junghwan.” He decided to leave out the part about remembering that they met in the bookstore a year ago. He’d rather learn about the Doyoung in front of him. “Dad bought it for decoration. It has been collecting dust since day one.”

“I could see that. Um, your mom told me you played karate and basketball.” Doyoung’s hands were fast on the piano keys and played it one more time, this time a piece of slow music. Junghwan liked it.

“I do, and I still do.”

“That’s great.” Doyoung stood up. “I just dropped by to greet you, looks like we’ll be attending the same school from now on.”

“How old are you?” Junghwan asked.

“You’re mom told me we’re the same age.”

They ate breakfast together.

“I really suck at this,” Doyoung panted between each word, attempting to catch his breath. The sun was high up and the weather forecaster predicted the day’s temperature to be around 30 degrees. The trees around them did not provide much oxygen to cool down the area.

Junghwan shot the ball furiously at the basket. Doyoung managed to dribble and receive the ball as Junghwan passed him and made a dizzying two-point shot before roaring in excitement despite being out of breath.

“You’re really good at this, huh?” Doyoung asked when they sat on the bench.

“I play on my school’s team. And, I practice a lot.” Junghwan smiled, watching as Doyoung failed to fully wipe the sweat streaming down his face. His body gave out and he slid down onto the grass, arms stretching out above him.

Junghwan chuckled and sat down close to the other lad, his body next to his. They're both perspiring. Bangs clinging to their brows, clothes clinging to their skinny bodies. Junghwan couldn't help but notice Doyoung's maturation. He's only seventeen, yet he appeared much older. His face curved and turned at all the correct angles, and his nose was a lovely shape that anyone would envy. And the way his eyes reflect a much more mature Doyoung than his age suggests he will be more handsome in the future.

“Practice makes perfect,” Doyoung commented.

“I’m not perfect,” Junghwan looked at him.

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not trying to be,” Junghwan looked at him, confused.

“I know,” Doyoung smiled at him. Junghwan still doesn’t get Doyoung, but he doesn’t mind.

Every day, Junghwan and Doyoung talk. Sometimes, they talk about their respective schools, sometimes they talk about what makes them happy.

“I wish every sickness will go away,” Doyoung looked at the horizon. The sun was hot and mighty in the noon sky. They were in Junghwan’s backyard, in a treehouse where they could see the far-away sea and the line that connected it to the sky: the horizon. It has been their favorite hangout rendezvous.

“Are you sick?” Junghwan asked.

“Of course not,” Doyoung smiled at him. “Just because I look like a twig doesn’t mean I am sickly, I am perfectly fine.”

“Then, why would you wish sickness to go away?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I hate it when people suffer. I hate it when people are busy treating sick people. I hate it when people are busy searching for a cure. I hate it when people are busy crying over a problem. I hate it when people are busy.”

Junghwan noted the sadness and frustration in Kim Doyoung’s voice.

“What about you?” Junghwan asked. “What keeps you busy?”

“You,” he said, not looking at Junghwan. “You keep me busy, and I like it.”

Junghwan was not able to respond to that.

“You’re my type of busy.”

Junghwan still wondered how to understand Kim Doyoung.

They played cards until two o'clock arrived, at which point Doyoung must leave. Junghwan asked about Doyoung's dance. He discovered that Doyoung enjoyed contemporary and, on occasion, modern. Doyoung, on the other hand, was too shy to show him what he's learned.

Junghwan thinks it’s cute how shy Doyoung was. Even after seeing him every day for weeks, he still blushed and turned his head away often. Junghwan only teased him a couple of times before Doyoung yelled at him and stopped off one day.

Days passed and Doyoung did not come over in the mornings anymore. Junghwan still woke up at eight-thirty and he still looked out the window. Doyoung doesn’t walk across the street in his bright blue sneakers and a tank top that’s too big for his thin frame.

Doyoung never attended Junghwan’s school.

Junghwan ran into Doyoung on the first day of school two years later. The outfit, like the rest of his attire, was too big for him. It fit him on the shoulders and hips, however, the rest of the locations on him were too small. His bangs were clipped and pushed to the side, concealing the majority of his brow.

In their arithmetic lesson, their gazes collided. Junghwan turned to look at the clock hanging over the door but was distracted by Doyoung's gaze. Junghwan's dark eyes connect, and his lips part. Doyoung sheepishly glanced aside, his gaze meeting the blank notebook on his desk.

Junghwan notices the other person sitting alone at lunch. With barely a few hours in school, it's clear that Doyoung hasn't made any friends yet. Junghwan heard his name being called by his pals, who were trying to refocus his attention on their summer stories.

His friend whines and hits Junghwan on the arm when his eyes revert back to looking at Doyoung. The boy picked at his meal, not eating or picking up a single piece. Junghwan frowned, knowing Doyoung was underweight and needed to eat as much as possible.

Only after Doyoung got up, threw away his food, and exited the cafeteria does Junghwan’s focus turn to his friends.

The next time Junghwan saw Doyoung, it was raining. The electricity had gone out, and the sole source of light in his room was a little candle that Junghwan had purchased the previous weekend. Junghwan fanned himself with a homemade paper fan because it was too hot.

The doorbell rang, and the bells reverberated throughout the house. It simply took a few seconds for his mum to open it. Before the door closed and no more dialogue can be heard, Junghwan can only hear faint whispers of the conversation.

Junghwan sighed, his back hitting his bed, cushioned by the several blankets that rest on his bed. His eyes opened when he heard his door open. Junghwan sat up to see a wet Doyoung standing in front of the door.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first time Junghwan witnessed Doyoung cry. He learns Doyoung was scared of thunderstorms.

“Happy birthday”

As Doyoung went into Junghwan's bed, Junghwan shook the box in his fingers. They both giggled, and Doyoung slowly put the box into his hands, shaking it to hear whether there is anything inside. Junghwan sits on the bed next to the other, his hands supporting him as he leansedback.

Doyoung did not waste any time opening the gift. He took out the sweater Junghwan purchased at Memo's last week. It's white and thick, ready to provide warmth for Doyoung's tiny body. Doyoung wore it over his long-sleeved shirt. Junghwan ran his hands over his chest and arms to examine how it fits. He smiled to himself, knowing that he picked the right size for the birthday boy.

“Thanks, it’s really comfy.”

Junghwan nodded quickly and hugged Doyoung, happy that he liked his gift.

“Ah, I got you something too!” Doyoung leaned back and reached into his bag that he’d thrown on the bed. He reached in and pulled out a box much like the ones he had received from Junghwan.

“But my birthday is in February?” Junghwan gave him a questioning look.

“What if I can’t make it to your birthday?” Doyoung rolled his eyes. “I might be participating some dance contests.”

The box contained a shirt that says “Art that Kills.” Junghwan grinned, thankful he’s told Doyoung he liked the shirt on sale from the department store yesterday.

Doyoung curled up with the sweater keeping him warm as he slept next to Junghwan on his bed. They fall asleep to the sound of snow brushing against the windowsill.

They both graduated from high school at the beginning of summer. They were not at the top of their class but they were not at the bottom either. Basketball had given Junghwan a scholarship to a nearby college and he had full plans to continue playing during the years.

They spend the rest of the day together at the treehouse. This time, they seemed too big to fit in, but they managed. They play basketball and share memories of the school year together. They laugh about how Jeongwoo got detention for a week straight because of taking a picture of their sleeping teacher and posting it to their school community board.

Junghwan congratulated Doyoung on the dancing showcase he’d attended the night before. Doyoung blushed and pushes on Junghwan’s shoulder, burying his face against his arm.

They go out for some drinks after dinner. Doyoung shared his Coke and Junghwan shared his Fanta. They bought a slice of cake from a nearby cafe and ate together on the edge of the Han river.

Junghwan thought Doyoung has gained a bit of weight. His elbows don’t stick out as much and muscle began to take over what was simply skin and bone. The two scars still stain his milky complexion on his legs.

Doyoung visits Junghwan in college. He comes every weekend and spends the night, sleeping next to Junghwan on his bed. Twenty-year-old Junghwan doesn’t mind at all and welcomes Doyoung every weekend with open arms and fresh stories to tell him.

Junghwan takes Doyoung to a party one weekend. It’s Doyoung’s first party but he acts like it’s his hundredth. It only takes three beers to get Doyoung drunk. Only five to get Junghwan where Doyoung is.

Doyoung dances with Junghwan. Skin brushing against skin as they move together in the dark. A strobe light is the only thing giving them light to look at each other. Both of their cheeks are tinted pink from the alcohol and perhaps their closeness together.

Hands wrap around hips and arms hook around shoulders. Junghwan is the one to turn around first, his ass pressing against Doyoung’s hips. Doyoung brushes his hands up and down Junghwan’s back and down to his hips, pulling them against him more as they grind together to the music.

Junghwan grabs Doyoung by the arm and tugs him down the hallway. Lips press against each other occasionally, making Doyoung release quiet whimpers that are hushed by Junghwan’s lips.

Doyoung is the first one down on the bed, his legs spreading and they allow Junghwan to come between them. Clothes are thrown to the tiled floor and the only thing Junghwan can feel is the warmth of Doyoung’s skin.

“Junghwan..”

They move together in harmony. Doyoung’s hips roll up while Junghwan’s roll down to his. Lips press kisses along each other’s jaws and necks, savoring the way sweat tastes against their skin.

Doyoung smiles and waves at Junghwan who sits in the audience. There’s a bright blush on Doyoung’s cheeks as he walks across the stage and gets handed his diploma for completing a two-year course in theater. Junghwan laughs and pulls his camera up, taking a picture of the bright smile that Doyoung gives off before walking off the stage.

Doyoung wraps his arms tightly around Junghwan when the ceremony is finished. He’s given several bouquets of flowers from family and friends but he only takes the yellow ones in a pink wrapping that Junghwan gives him. They share several kisses and Doyoung gives him the same shy look that Junghwan loves.

Doyoung doesn’t work right away. He concentrates on dancing instead, taking up more classes and doing more competitions. Doyoung moves into to Junghwan’s apartment after being asked.

Junghwan attends his first showcase that Doyoung is in. It’s the first time he’s seen him dance and Junghwan falls in love again. He sees the bruises and cuts that Doyoung’s gotten over time. Too many slips and falls to the hard floor of the dance studio and too many times he’s cut himself dancing in the house.

The skinny teenager turns into a muscular one. Junghwan’s hands having a hard time wrapping around Doyoung’s arm that’s full of muscle and makes him whimper if he feels it for too long. They spend most of the morning’s in bed together before Junghwan goes to work.

When he comes home, Junghwan often finds Doyoung walking around in only underwear or nothing at all. Luckily, Doyoung likes to help Junghwan release the stress from the day until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Twenty-six year old Junghwan comes home one day to Doyoung curled up in the bathroom. The room reeks of vomit and other bodily functions that Junghwan doesn’t want to smell. He asks Doyoung what’s wrong and he says he’s just got a stomach flu.

The stomach flu goes on for a week. Junghwan see’s Doyoung’s muscles become bone again, as he can’t keep anything down. He see’s the happy eyes that sparkle each time Junghwan walks in, turn to sleepy ones that struggle to stay open during the day.

Junghwan lays in bed with Doyoung, nursing him the best he can. He feeds him soup and other things he doesn’t have to chew. But nothing stays down and Doyoung’s back over the bed, throwing up into the trashcan.

One day, Junghwan walks into the bedroom to find Doyoung on the floor. He’s unconscious and there’s a small puddle of blood under his head. Junghwan panics and calls an ambulance. He sobs into Doyoung’s hand as he rides with him to the hospital.

The doctor comes in hours after Doyoung’s come back from his last test. He’s awake but can barely keep himself conscious. Only staying awake enough to smile at Junghwan and tell him that he’s okay. He’s just got the stomach flu. But the doctor hands him a chart and Junghwan reads it.

Doyoung has cancer.

Junghwan watches as the days pass. He sleeps on the firm couch in the corner of the hospital room, the one that makes his back ache and deep red lines in his skin from the fabric. He watches as Doyoung gets taken for tests every morning and every evening after dinner. He watches as the thin boy he met in the department store comes back.

Doyoung doesn’t talk much. He only tells Junghwan he loves him before each test and thanks him for still being there when he comes back. Junghwan always tells him what the doctors say about the tests. How he’s not getting better, but he’s not getting worse either. Doyoung only smiles and grips Junghwan’s hand with all his strength.

They spend their birthdays together in the hospital. Junghwan goes out and gets Doyoung a bright blue balloon that sparkles in the light from the gift shop downstairs. Doyoung smiles only for a moment before tears come from his eyes. He didn’t get anything for Junghwan. But Junghwan shakes his head and tells him he doesn’t have to get him anything. Doyoung cries for hours and Junghwan thinks that things have finally hit him.

Things get better over the summer. Doyoung’s able to sit up and talk more than he used to. The tests begin to come back better and the doctor walks in with a smile on his lips every time. Doyoung doesn’t cry as much and he smiles more, more to himself.

Junghwan comes into the room to see Doyoung snacking on a chocolate bar and Junghwan laughs. “Shouldn’t you be having something healthier?”

Doyoung shakes his head quickly, his growing bangs wiggling as he laughs around the chocolate bar. “You’re the one that tells me to gain more weight!” Doyoung holds the half-eaten chocolate bar up in the air and laughs. “What do you have in there?”

The bag that Doyoung points to is put on the bed. Junghwan reaches in and pulls out a small velvet box and Doyoung’s eyes widen. Junghwan can feel his heart pound in his chest as he opens it, revealing a silver band with tiny diamonds around it.

“Will you marry me?”

Doyoung drops the chocolate bar and parts of it break when it hits the table that hovers over his lap. “W-What?”

“I said, will you marry me?”

Doyoung looks at Junghwan with disbelief. “Why would you want to marry me?”

“Because I love you.” Junghwan can see the tears beginning to form in the corner of Doyoung’s eyes. It’s been a few weeks since Doyoung’s cried and the brown eyes quickly blink to force them away.

“But I’m going to die.” His voice is shaky and the IV line connected to his arm wiggles as he pushes himself up against the bed.

“You’re not going to die, Doyoung. And-” Junghwan shakes his head and grips the box in his fingers. “I still love you and I still want to marry you. Regardless of how sick you are.”

Doyoung shakes his head quickly and closes his eyes. Junghwan sits down on the chair that he’d placed next to the bed before leaving earlier. He watches as Doyoung struggles for words.

“But being married means forever, right?” He laughs quietly, teeth pressing against his bottom lip. “I can’t give you forever. Forever doesn’t exist.” Junghwan sucks in a breath and his lips part to argue the point but Doyoung continues speaking. “I can’t love you forever because I don’t have forever. One day you’re going to wake up and forever will mean nothing. There’s not going to be an So Doyoung in room four-thirty-two on the fourth floor with the blue hospital gown and bright white band around his wrist. There’s only going to be an empty bed and some papers for you to sign. Who would want to have that left? Then you’re left with everything. I can’t give you money to help pay for these bills. I can’t hold you and hug you because I might get you sick. I can’t even kiss you. I’m not even sure if I can make it your birthday. Why would you want to marry that?!” Tears stream down Doyoung’s face as he grips the blanket that covers the lower half of his body. “Wouldn’t being alone, be better than that?”

Junghwan shakes his head at the words. “Do you love me now, Doyoung?” It takes a few seconds for Doyoung to nod in response, his eyes squeezed shut. “And will you love me until the end?” Junghwan thinks he hears an ‘of course’ that’s mixed with a sob and a cough. “That’s all I need.”

Junghwan slips the ring onto twenty-three year old Doyoung’s ring finger and they both whisper ‘I love you’ to each other.

Two in the morning is when Junghwan’s awoken by a loud commotion coming from inside the room. He hears a high pitched beep and several doctors around the bed where Doyoung lays. He stands up and tries to see what’s going on. A nurse tells him he has to leave the room. Junghwan bangs his hands on the window as he watches them press against Doyoung’s chest several times.

Only ten minutes later is when he sees them stop. He see’s them unplug the monitor and shake their heads. Junghwan bangs on the window as hard as he can, his screaming waking up the other patients in the wing, several nurses peeking their heads out of their stations to see the scene.

The doctors come out and attempt to calm Junghwan. But he pushes at them and runs into the room. His knees hit the floor and he grips onto Doyoung’s arm. He screams more and more until his throat feels as if it’s bleeding. Doyoung’s skin is cold against his and the ring on his finger shimmers under the bright lights of the room.

At three in the morning is when he signs the last paper. The top of the paper read the date; February 17, 2020. Junghwan grips the sheets at the date, knowing it was only a day away from his birthday.

Twenty-seven-year-old Junghwan holds the flowers tightly against his chest as he walks through the grass and to the tall gray grave in the corner of the graveyard. It’s his twelfth bundle of flowers that he’s brought. The ones in his hands are pink in color. They smell of spring and smell of life.

“Happy birthday, babe.”

Junghwan places the flowers next to the several others he’s left. The pink mixes with the red roses and the yellow flowers he knows Jeongwoo dropped off recently. There’s ones from his parents and ones from Doyoung’s friends too. He thinks they look nice against the boring gray clouds. Junghwan even asked if God could change it to blue, Doyoung’s favorite color. The clouds remained gray.

He goes home and climbs at the tree house. He’s too big and he has to be careful because the woods are creaking. He loves the place, but it’s haunted without So Doyoung.

Twenty-seven year old Junghwan plays with the ring on his finger as he wishes Doyoung a happy birthday again, a little louder in case he didn’t hear him the last time.

Junghwan brushes a few tears away from his eyes as he looks at his husband’s name.

Deep down, he still loves Doyoung, and forever, he will.