CW: This chapter includes a retelling of an overdose death.

“I don’t understand,” Inho said. He did understand, but like a dog with a bone, he was unwilling to let this go. He scooted to sit up on his pillows, feeling too helpless to argue while laying flat. “I’ll get money from my dad right away for you then.”

“Inho let’s just talk about it later,” Stephen retorted, slapping the pamphlets down on the side table.

Inho ground his teeth. He recognized that Stephen was tense, but this was too far. He didn’t call him here to be his parent, or to show off his money. He didn’t call him here at all.

“I don’t want to talk about it later,” Inho burst out, unable to suppress his frustration, “You had no right to do that.”

“Dammit, why do you always have to be so–” Stephen snarled before cutting himself off. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and blew out air as if blowing out his bad mood.

“So what?”

Stephen took a slow breath and ran a hand roughly through his hair, “I’m sorry Inho, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just, I really don’t like hospitals, and I’m feeling very tense.” Stephen’s words were carefully measured and said in a neutral tone. Inho’s anger faded. He shuffled over on his pillows and patted the bed on his right side. Stephen wavered, then awkwardly sat beside him. He stayed tense and upright, one foot still on the floor.

“Okay, later then,” Inho conceded as he rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder, “But don’t think I’ll forget. You can’t just throw money at me you know,” he smiled at the absurdity of his own words as he sat broke, helpless, and soon to be unemployed in a foreign hospital.

“Noted,” Stephen said with a deep sigh. He automatically placed a kiss on the top of Inho’s head.

“I’m sorry for bringing you somewhere you hate.”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t leave you here alone, no matter how much I hate it.”

“Why do you…?” Inho could guess it probably wasn’t a happy story, but he wanted to get closer to Stephen, who was always particularly resistant to sharing his past. Like cracking a too-tight pistachio, Inho would stick his fingers in any opening to pry it apart. Stephen didn’t answer the implied question, so he said it again, “Why do you hate hospitals?”

Stephen balked, but Inho could see his lips flexing while he considered.

“You don’t have to say,” Inho added finally, defeated. He snuggled in a little tighter, “It’s going to be a long night though, so talk to me lots before you go.” Inho was getting sleepy, so so sleepy. It was late, and he was concussed, but he wanted to appreciate any Stephen-time he got.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stephen said, and at long last leaned back into Inho’s pillow. “I spent a lot of time in this hospital, actually, when I first came to Vancouver.”

“Were you sick?” Inho asked, confused.

“No, it wasn’t for me. I guess, it wasn’t actually a lot of time either. Just a full week, about ten years ago,” he laughed bitterly, “and I still can’t stand the smell of disinfectant. When I smell it other places...It just makes me sick.”

Inho threaded his arm through Stephen’s, and looked up at him silently, entreating him to continue. Stephen hesitated, “Do I really have to tell this story? It’s depressing.”

“You don’t have to. I just want to know more about you,” Inho’s words were soft and fuzzy, his eyes were getting heavier too, but he forced them wide in a valiant effort to show Stephen he was paying attention. He peered up at Stephen owlishly and Stephen clicked his tongue lightly in exasperation.

“If you look at me like that, what am I supposed to do?” Stephen pecked the top of Inho’s head again. “You know how I left home pretty young?” He waited for Inho to nod, “Well, I left my little suburban town with nothing, and I stayed with someone I met online...in a gay dating forum.”

“That sounds sketchy as hell,” Inho commented with a jaw-cracking yawn.

Stephen laughed, “It definitely was. He was years older than me too...Though still younger than I am right now,” Stephen sighed heavily again. “Anyway, we met online and became friends, and me being a stupid 21-year old, I went to stay with him until I could figure things out.”

“Did you date?” Inho asked, with an odd pang in his chest. He had a feeling this person wouldn’t make it out of the story, so the ache of jealousy felt rude and misplaced. But it was there nonetheless.

“Date? No. We, you know...obviously, but we didn’t date. He was my first friend in the city, and he introduced me to the people I’m still close with today. The classic ‘gay orphan found-family’ thing.” Though Stephen’s tone was light, Inho could tell he was talking about something close to his heart. He watched the tiny muscles and tendons flex in Stephen’s hands as he gripped and released unconsciously, repeatedly.

“Anyway, long story short, we all partied a little too hard. He was always on or off something or other, and one night, he was taking something he’d been off for a while. His tolerance was gone, and he overdosed. I came home late, and I guess he was dead, but they revived him anyway.”

Stephen’s voice was still perfectly, painfully, light. He could have been talking about the weather, not finding his dear friend’s body, “He spent a week in the hospital in a coma, but he never woke up. So we just watched him starve to death until they unplugged the support.” Stephen stopped speaking, swallowed hard, and stared into the folds of the curtain walls.

When Inho slid his hand down to cover Stephen’s, he broke from his reverie and looked Inho in the eye, “I’ve never told anyone that before,” he said dully.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Inho didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t regret asking, but he wasn’t sure how to comfort Stephen either.

“It’s okay,” Stephen said, though it clearly wasn’t.

“You’re still in touch with the others you knew back then though?”

“I am,” Stephen squeezed his hand, “Would you like to meet them?”

Inho nodded, “I would, yes.” The idea was a little scary, but he wanted to know more about Stephen, he wanted to know it all.

“Hang on,” Stephen said, suddenly distracted by his phone, “Jamie is calling me.”