Chapter 7: Stay Close to Me

Phichit climbs out of his car parked by the snow banks of the cabin, a heavy black bag across his shoulders, he locks the car and knocks hastily.

"I stopped the bleeding, no thanks to you," a green pair of eyes glare at him, a few blonde locks fly in his face as a gush of wind passes through the open door of the cabin. "You drive like a grandpa."

"This is exactly what you say to someone who you called over to help," Phichit is about to ruffle his hair, Yurio slaps his hands away. He would actually look like he could be a fairy if it weren't for the attitude and the teenage angst. Phichit sighs, "and I was gathering supplies." He jumped through the broken window of an abandoned urgent care clinic and thankfully they had everything he was looking for.

"Stupid Nikiforov, my brother is all fucked up because of him, if I get my hands on him..."Yurio clutches his fist inside the pocket of his tiger sweater. "I'll rip him a new-"

"Language," Phichit removes his long black coat and hangs it onto the back of a wooden chair. The cabin is the one place that didn't change since the virus took over the world. The organization owns the cabin, sometimes Chris takes targets here to do business, Phichit does not want to know what kind of business. The wooden house hidden in the mountains appears small from the outside but on the inside the roof lined by wooden logs are high, creating the illusion of space. The fireplace looks radiant with warm with tongues of flames licking the logs from all different sides. Phichit takes a deep breath, the smell of wood in this cabin comforting, like an oasis from the rest of the world.

Yuri appears fast asleep on his stomach. There are blood soaked towels on the floor. Phichit watches his heavily inked back rise and fall he gazes at the site of the wound and let's out a sign of relief. He wonders what the tattoos mean.

"So?" Yurio takes two steps closer.

"It isn't deep," Phichit pulls out a pair of blue gloves to examine the gash on Yuri's side already coated with dark red crushing blood. The surrounding area blue and purple, he lightly touches the bruise on his ribs on the left side, Yuri's eyebrows furl and slowly he opens his eyes. "Two of his ribs are broken, but he is lucky because broken ribs could easily have punctured his lung. Grab a bucket, Yurio." He pulls out a giant plastic container filled with saline and punctures holes on the plastic top with a large bore needle.

Yuri opens his eyes, the stabbing pain on his side sharp as he takes a deep inhale. His sharp senses return. And realizes Phichit is about to stitch him up. "Thanks Phichit." He mutters from his dry lips. And watch as Phichit injects bubbles into the vial of lidocaine and draws it into a syringe.

"Any time," Phichit puts the filled syringe down on the tray at the bedside table. Even though they are friends, there is an unspoken agreement to not ask questions about each other's missions. Sometimes knowing less is better. Phichit joined the organization later than Yuri, they used to train in combat together and Yuri always won. Then Yuri kept on fighting while Phichit was sent to medical school to become a neurosurgeon. He is the one person in the organization whom Yuri considers a friend. "This is the worst part," Phichit picks up the syringe and injects into the gash in Yuri's side."

Yuri did not flinch, he takes a deep inhale on the pillow and realizes it's Victor's scent. He suddenly remembers that night when he held Victor as he falls asleep mourning his mentor Yakov. He turns his head the other way. His side burns from where Phichit injects the lidocaine to make him feel numb. His chest hurts. Victor's words hurts more than any physical wounds he had ever experienced. From this day on...You and I are enemies.

"Shine the light right here," Phichit gestures for Yurio to bring the floor lamp with a flexible neck next to the bed. "I am going to wash your wounds. He picks up the giant plastic container filled with saline and pours it into his wound. Dark blood clots fall into the bucket below. "You are lucky Yuri, one of your lung could have collapsed, but there is no sign of the bullet, all you need is stitches."

He hears Yurio's grumble. "Good thing that bookworm has terrible aim."

Fifteen minutes passed, Yurio watches Phichit work with his mouth slightly open. Yurio is fascinated by the way Phichit's hand flies throwing a row of perfect stitches in the row of yellowish layer under the skin, and his perfect knots.

Phichit finally wipes the row of perfect stitches with a wet gauze and tosses it into the bucket.

27 stitches.

"Yurio," Phichit takes off his gloves, "it's your job, to make sure he does not do anything stupid for the next week, no lifting." He continues sternly. "It's going to take 2 months for rib fractures to fully heal, if you fuck this up Yuri, and I have to fix my beautiful row of stitches I will be very angry." He flashes his grumpy neurosurgeon side at Yuri momentarily.

Yuri flashes a forced smile, "thanks, I owe you lots of...katsudon." He remembers they way Phichit's eyes light up each time he makes katsudon from the kitchen of the Eternal.

"Yes you do, but not this week," Phichit begins to packs the bag filled with medical supplies. I could really use an energy drink, his head hurts from the caffeine withdrawal.

As soon as Yurio hears the door shut as Phichit leaves, he pulls a chair and sits by the top of the bed, he props his chin up with his elbow. "I know exactly what is going on between you and Nikiforov."

Yuri casts him a sideways glance, he did not even try to deny or pretend, "my skills must be getting rusty." He is the best mercenary in the organization. He has the ability to become anyone. He is a professional liar.

"I can read you, big brother," his blows air upwards to move the strand of blonde hair that is falling in front of his eyes out of the way. "The way you say his name when you sleep. You actually look...happy...after you come home every day."

Yuri turns around and sits up on the bed with his pillow behind his back. He ruffles through Yurio's hair. Yurio glares at him but does not stop him. He is the only one that Yurio allows to do that. Yurio can see his brother is breaking on the inside. He leans forward and gently pulls Yuri into a hug without any words.

I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here, Yurio. He feels a warm tide wash over him, as he holds his sworn brother. He is like a fierce golden beacon of hope.

"I-I won't make fun of you if you cry right now, I can pretend I didn't see anything." Yurio says next to his ear.

Tears are for the weak. His master taught him. So is love. The truth is Yuri doesn't know how to cry. His tears stopped since his master picked him up from the streets where he ran away from yet another abusive foster family. He's seen plenty of people cry before, people he tortured in the past, and Yurio when they first met, and Victor...he looks beautiful when he cries...no sound escapes through Yuri's mouth, instead he pulls his brother a little tighter. What if the master sends more mercenaries after him...what if he will torture him...pain stabs him from the inside like thousands of knives.

"I can tell," Yurio continues, "you still give a shit about Nikiforov," Yurio pulls away. "Even though I want to kick his ass for what he did to you, I know what you are going to do if I let you out of my sight."

Yurio reads his mind.

Yuri sighs and he didn't know he could smile still at this moment and time but he does, "I am that transparent huh?"

Yurio smirks, "you are not, I am getting good at reading people, that's all."

Yuri feels a wave of love for his brother, he recalls for a second the day he found Yurio on the streets and those piercing green eyes of a soldier, and his tiny fists clinging onto him, not letting him go. I am so glad that I found you...

"Fine, I am going to find your precious Victor and watch over him in your place," Yurio stands up, "and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Yuri recalls he actually never told Victor Yurio's name, or that his fifteen year old tomcat brother is in fact...Russian.

Yuri waits until Yurio is fast asleep on the couch and steps into the shower, careful to not let his left side with the stitches becomes exposed to water. The sterile little white strips that Phichit neatly applied appear like a snake sprawling on his side.

He rinses off the blood and the sweat from the day before. He feels dirty again, like a monster. His insides hurt, but he still doesn't know how to cry. He lifts his chin and lets the water run down his face, hoping that it would wash away all of the blood from the people he killed from his body. Hoping somehow tears would fall, but no tears do.

Victor...he steps out of the shower, the green bathrobe Victor once wore hang behind the door. He pulls it around him, holds it tightly against his own naked body, inhaling the last hint of Victor's scent while trying to forget how much he wants him.

Love is for the weak. He hears his master's voice haunting him.

Yuri falls onto his knees and slowly slides down the wooden door, it hurts to move, hurts to breathe. He is shattering into one thousand little pieces. Next to his hand on the bathroom floor he finds a piece of silvery hair.

Still Yuri is unable to cry. He pants as he tightens his fists and presses his forehead against the hard wooden door.

"I made you pancakes," Yuri wakes up to his brother's excited voice, "but I ate most of it."

Of course. Yuri actually smiles.

He gazes down at the the plate at the two pancakes with chunks of the top missing.

"They are a little burnt, but suck it up, will you?" Yurio sits down next to him and hands the him the syrup.

"Tastes good," Yuri tries to mask the burnt taste with the syrup. He pictures Yurio picking the burnt parts off then sucking on his index finger because the pancake is still hot.

"Right?" Yurio flashes a brilliant smile, "On my first try."

I am glad you didn't set the cabin on fire, Yuri thinks to himself.

Yurio picks up his metal studded backpack, and opens the drawer by the bed, there are more than fifty pocket knives inside of different size. He tucks one inside his pants pocket and another inside his backpack.

He walks over to the door and begins to knock on the wooden tiles, suddenly the sound changes, "aha". He loosens that wooden plank with a knife and inside there is a lever. He pulls on it and suddenly the wall with the fireplace creaks open revealing racks filled with different kinds of weapons. "That's what I am talking about." Like the organization, the cabin too is full of secrets. Yurio glances at the weapons before him. There is a baseball bat even. I would choose that one if this was a stupid zombie movie.

Except for this is reality.

He tucks a gun into his waist and several cases of bullets into his backpack.

"Yurio," Yuri protests, "it's too dangerous." He knows once Yurio decides though he will not changes his mind.

Yurio rolls his eyes, puts on Yuri's aviator sunglasses and a turquoise N95 respirator, and shuts the door.

Victor feels numb, his yellow face mask causing an itch. He walks past the empty streets with broken glass windows, the February wind makes the parts of his face that is not covered raw. He thinks about taking the mask off. Is it really that bad to take off the mask, catch the virus and die? He wonders. It would be quick. Modern medicine often though makes people die slowly and painfully, with tubes and lines from every limb and out of every orifice.

No.

He has too many questions and no answers, about the organization, his parents, Yakov and him...Yuri...he decided to pack all memories of Yuri into an imaginary box and throw that box into the depth of an imaginary ocean in his mind. He wishes there is a knife that can cut out all memories of Yuri from his mind. He wishes they had never met.

Yuri, I loved you. He commands himself to stop and bury those memories trying to resurface from that imaginary ocean and trying to drag him by the feet to drown. Despite the fact he hates guns, he does have immaculate aim, probably from all those times Yakov dragged him to the shooting range. It's Yakov's past time.

If I loved you any less, I would have shot you in the heart or in the head. He grips onto the strap of his grey duffle bag hard, Yakov's favorite gun is tucked inside his long blue coat, as if part of his beloved mentor is still with him, protecting him. One thing I know how to do is to aim a gun...

In the distance he hears a gun shot and glass smashing, the streets are now devoid of cars. Most people have fled the city. There are trash on the side of the streets, stray dogs picking through them. Some street lights still work, but most of the shops are already deserted. The night is about to fall. He walks soundless with uneven steps to try not to step on glass.

A block in front of him he sees a group of people bundled up in winter coats and face masks scream at each other. "Hand over the antibiotics! Or I'll shoot!" Then sounds of gunshots reverberate eerily throughout the empty city. Victor hears the sound of broken glass followed by the sound of a body falling into the snow.

Victor sighs. The disease that is destroying the world is a virus. Antibiotics isn't going to do anything to a virus, but people are now desperate and willing to kill for it. People are willing to kill for anything, even a small glimmer of hope.

Humanity's last hope may rest in his hands. Even though project Delta, the breakthrough he and Yakov decided to bury was from a long time ago and he is not certain that it will in fact fight the new virus, he knows he has to try. I have to try to make this right.

"Hey kid," Victor hear's a man's deep voice, "what have you got in your backpack." There is a shorter figure walking by the group of five men.

"None of your fucking business," a teenager's voice replies.

"What did you say," the thick necked man swings a fist at the boy under the black hood with aviator sunglasses making his sunglasses fall onto the snow.

Victor hides behind a red brick building.

He hears the boy gasp as another man hits him on the back of the head. The first man picks him up by his face and brings his ugly face with a big gap between the front tooth and grins and sprays the boy with old hair up to his chin with his stinking breath "He is pretty." The boy tries to kick him but 2 men pins his arms and legs from behind.

"Let's go have some fun with him," they laugh, like a pack of wolves.

Victor shudders.

Suddenly the sound of a gun fires off, startling a stray cat eating the contents of a garbage can nearby, the man drops the teenage boy's face and screams and clutches his right ear but only finding blood on his hands, his eyes almost pops out of their sockets when he finds part of his right ear on the ground 10 feet away staining the snow.

Disgusting.

Victor steps out of the shadows, "that was a warning. I can aim for other parts too. And I do not miss," his voice icy. Slowly he raises his gun up, pausing at the level of that man's crotch for one second before pointing it at his forehead. White hot rage burns through him as the ugly part of humanity unfolds right before him. He does not like guns, or blood, but this man, he deserves it.

"Let's get out of here," the men run one after another, leaving the boy on his hands and knees on the ground.

Victor fucking Nikiforov, nice to meet you. Yurio grins in the dark. Mission accomplished.

He could have easily beaten all five of his attackers and taken their guns. His training would not fail him. But this is necessary, to draw Victor out. He had been watching him for days. Dr. Nikiforov is smart, even with Yurio's training, he would still lose him from time to time. Those fuckers better have not broken my brother's aviators. He picks it up from the snow, happy to find they are still intact. It seems like Victor does not need our protection after all.

Victor holds out a hand to the boy on the ground and pulls him up, "let's get out of here."

Yurio's green eyes locks onto the ground, and he nods. Victor puts a protective hand on his shoulder.

This is not the first time Yurio slept under a bridge, before he met Yuri he did also, except the difference is this is February and when he slept under a bridge as a child in South America where he was kidnapped and sold to the human trafficker, the rats over there are much bigger. There is a small room where security officer used to sit under this bridge. It has enough floor space for two people to lie down. Two old chairs that are falling apart take up most of the space. On the desk, someone was in the middle of a game of solitaire.

"What's your name?" Victor asks, as he takes off his yellow face mask, he is sick of wearing it.

"Does it matter? We are all going to be dead soon anyways," Yurio takes off the hood of his tiger sweatshirt and his blue respirator.

"Of course it does, I'm Victor," the silver haired man sits cross legged next to him and begin to light a tiny stove people take on camping trips to begin heating water, and he pulls out two cup noodles from the drawer.

Your are not going to like this, Dr. Nikiforov, "Fine, Yuri Plisetsky," he watches as Victor winces when he says his first name. Serves you right for what you did to my brother. He sticks his tongue out in his mind.

"Russian."

"My parents were, they are dead."

"Can I call you...Yurachka?" Yuri watches pain in those blue-green eyes, saying the name Yuri hurts him. How clever, using the Russian version so you don't have to say his name every time you look at me.

"Whatever. Suit yourself."

Two weeks passes by, they do not stay in the same location for long. Whenever his intuition tells him that they are being watched, Yurio tells Victor to move. Sometimes in the middle of the night Yurio will put on the silencer of his gun and stalk their stalkers until they feel his wrath and give up. He's shot people in the leg and occasionally on the arm, but he never killed. Yuri doesn't let me kill...He remembers the nightmares Yuri used to have, he would scream in his sleep, and run to the bathroom to throw up and wash his hands for an hour until they are red and raw. Yuri doesn't want me to live through that.

So far their stalkers seem amateur, hunting down people for supplies or weapons, not coming from the organization.

Yurio and Victor take turns sleeping and being on watch. Victor scouts out places where electricity still works. He does not speak much. He is on his laptop most of the time. The city seems dead.

They hear occasional shouting and gunshots in the distance. The streets are covered with trash and broken glass and parts of cars. Yurio walks into a pharmacy, there are pills scattered on the ground. He looks through the racks that are almost empty.

Found it, he picks up a tube of toothpaste, even if the world is ending I still want to be clean. He shudders as a flashback of that disgusting man whose ear ended up on the ground spraying his face with stinking breath. He picks up a can of Spam that nobody seemed to notice. I wonder what Yuri is doing.

"Yurachka, I need to go somewhere," Victor closes his laptop and rubs his eyes, his heart pounding. I figured it out...Theoretically. He pictures his lab for a second and feels a sharp shooting pain in his chest. Mila, Georgi...he pictures the blue mug Yuri always uses, how he always brings dark coffee, the picture of Yuri asleep at his desk with his blue glasses beside him. Stop it, he commands his mind.

Yurio crosses his legs and sits next to him.

Victor begins to tuck his laptop into his duffle bag and put on his long blue coat.

"It will be too dangerous, and I don't want you to come with me." He needs to go to a lab. Not his own. He is going to a place that trained him and made him the scientist that he is. Victor holds back the pain of his mentor's death, and suppresses the flashbacks of those happy moments in his graduate student days with Yakov and Mila too. He is going to Yakov's lab.

Yurio glares at him.

He is grateful to have the boy by his side, whose burning desire to live on carries Victor through the darkest nights where he cannot fall asleep and he cannot forget him...Yurachka, thank you.

"Bullshit," Yurio stomps his feet and leans forward, "I am not leaving -"

"I'll come back for you," Victor leaps for the door.

"Stupid Victor!" Fuck, tracking him was a pain in the ass. Even for a trained mercenary had trouble tracking him, Dr. Nikiforov is smart after all.

The University is still the same way he remembers it, he walks past the library with the giant stained glass window. He used to love sitting by the window in the summer and watch the multi coloured light project from the windows to the wooden floor. The campus is deathly quiet.

He walks past the circular lecture hall where he used to sit and listen to Yakov, he was always awake during those lectures. He may be the only one though.

Finally he climbs the stairs of a building made of white granite bricks that are usually covered with vine in the summer time but is now barren in the dead of winter. He pushes open the heavy wooden door. The hallway is just as he remembered, behind the glass case posters with his name on it from the last article he and Yakov published together. He pauses for a second and continues walking.

Suddenly he hears the door behind him creak and several footsteps, chills run down his spine making every hair on his body stand. He realizes he is being followed.

The organization.

They are here.

He puts his hands on the handle of Yakov's gun tucked in his coat.

Footsteps.

There are at least five different sets of footstep that he hears.

Stay calm.

Stay calm.

He calculates the time that he needs to make it to the other exit, his pursuers are still far. I need twenty seconds.

Suddenly the door at the end of the hall burst open, revealing six people whose faces are covered by black masks pointing their guns at him.

I'm too late...I am glad I didn't drag Yurachka into this. He thinks of the boy with golden hair and fierce forest green eyes and the fierce will to live on.

Victor closes his eyes as bullets are about to rain on him. He holds his breath.

Suddenly a flash of light and a black clad figure leaps into the air in front of him. With lightning speed, his sword dances in a graceful arc in the air, 5 bullets are deflected from his shiny blade, he blocks the 6th with his body.

Yuri...Victor slowly opens his eyes, his heart about to leap out of his chest. He knows this silhouette and those lean yet strong shoulders. A mixture of emotions course through him. From white hot rage from the lies Yuri told to burning hatred for the organization, everything that Yuri stands for, to emptiness of the days they spent apart, to a glimmer of secret hope, he remembers the feeling of Yuri's lips pressed hard against his own. What if...that was real...

Yuri grabs his arm roughly and runs down the hall. They push past the exit and bolts the door shut.

"Yuri, what do you want from me," Victor looks tired, his shoulders slumped over from the sadness of the deaths of those closest to him.

"I want you to stay close to me!" Sadness fills those beautiful brown eyes, "and never leave..." he whispers his features soften as he falls onto one knee, warm blood soaking his back. His vision begins to falter. He knows this time he needs more than just stitches to put back together. A flash of Phichit's disapproving face passes by his mind for a split second. He feels lightheaded and the last thing he remembers is Victor catching his fall.

"Keep him awake," the next thing Yuri remembers is his friend Phichit's voice, he wakes up inside the back of Phichit's old grey car.

"Yuri," Victor shakes him, "Stay with me."

Phichit steps onto the gas pedal, "hang in tight, this ride will be bumpy, hold pressure on his back. "We can't take him to the regular hospital, that area is too close to the chip in his neck, one wrong move and he could die...it's a long story." Then he wonders if hospitals are even open. Since the virus spreading rampantly, more and more people left the city, most hospitals lie abandoned. He bites his lip. I will not be able to do this alone...he realizes. He pulls out his phone and hands it to Victor. "I need you to dial a number for me." He bites his bottom lip and sighs. I can't believe I have to do this..."his name is JJ."

"I don't see it," Victor replies as he scrolls through his contacts, there aren't many, mostly doctors.

Oh shit. This is embarrassing.

"Um...look under the letter B," Phichit sighs. They have been at each other's throats since 6 years ago when they first met. They are the pride of the program, meticulous, and efficient. Together, they are the best neurosurgery trainees the program had in years," His last name is Leroy."

"Got it," Victor hits the dial button next to the name 'Brown-noser Leroy'.

This is the first time Phichit is happy to hear JJ's voice.

"You alright?" JJ asks.

"Yea, what about you?" Phichit is genuine this time.

"Still alive."

"Listen, JJ, I need your help..." Phichit goes on. He was surprised at the end that JJ said yes without hesitation.

Yuri's head is lying in Victor's lap, Victor takes off his grey sweater and presses it against Yuri's back, it becomes soaked in his warm red blood.

Yuri grimaces.

"Victor, do something," There is fear in Phichit's voice, as if Yuri falls asleep now he will never wake up again.

Without hesitation, Victor leans down and kisses Yuri on the lips. He interlaces his hands in Yuri's hand presses against his heart. He wipes away the sweat on Yuri's forehead. "Yuri, stay with me."

"Victor," Yuri mutters as he raises his other arm to touch his face, "you lost weight..."

"Shh-," Victor strokes his pale face.

"I'm sorry," Yuri mutters, "I kept those secrets..." his breathes faster, "I am sorry that I am a liar-."

"Shh-," Victor strokes his face, "I will give you one chance," his blue-green eyes hard, "after all of this is over, you will speak, and I will listen." He wanted to tell him that he forgives him, but that would be a lie. Victor is sick of lies. But Yuri just laid his life before him.

The corners of Yuri's lips turns up into a weak smile and he reaches up to lightly touch Victor's face. Yuri misses those ocean colored eyes more than anything.

Their trip on the road seems to go on forever.

"Do you love him?" Phichit asks.

"More than anything in the world." Victor says without hesitation. He traces his fingers along Yuri's cheeks, along his lips, he runs through his dark hair. Stay close to me...he presses his face against Yuri's chest listening to his heart beats. Please please do not stop beating...

Then he hears Phichit sniffle from the driver's seat. "I'm sorry -" he wipes his eyes. "It's- so unlike me." He thinks he is jaded from years of medical training, there are emotions that he thought he tucked away deep inside. But the love he is witnessing before his eyes makes his tears come life of their own. He wonders if someday he will meet someone who will love him the same way. He would be the happiest person in the world.

There is nobody in the hospital, but fortunately the back up electricity generator is still working.

Phichit had never operated without the assistance of his nurses and operating room technician before. He develops a new level of appreciation for them. After all this is over, he decides, I will buy lunch for my staff when I am a full fledged neurosurgeon on Fridays for the rest of my career.

"You ready," JJ's dark blue eyes meet his from the opposite side of the operating room table where the anesthesiologist works. Before JJ started training in neurosurgery he was training in anesthesiology, doctors who puts patients to sleep and keeps them asleep during surgery. There is a tube in Yuri's throat hooked to a machine to help him breathe. The only sound is the beeping of the monitor to the rhythm of Yuri's heart. JJ adjusts several knobs to make sure the right dosage of medication enters into Yuri's veins.

"Yes," Phichit's voice is calm. He is alone, the life of his best friend in his hands. There is no one there to hand him any instruments. He takes a deep breath and explores the path of the bullet. It entered close to the chip that everyone in the organization has implanted in his neck. The chip has two main functions, to transmit location, and there is the death button as well. In dire circumstances, it allows the mercenary to end his own life. Phichit's secret fear is the death function being accidentally triggered.

Amazing. He gasps as he pulls out the bullet, beside it, a melted and blackened chip. His chip came loose...and the death function was not activated. Yuri, you have no idea how lucky you are.

He can smell the burnt flesh he is too familiar with as he uses a cautery to stop the bleeding.

He loses sense of time.

"JJ, I need you to gown up," there are certain parts of the operation he cannot perform alone.

"You got it."

"Vitals are stable," Phichit pulls off his blue sterile gown, "he is going to make it."

JJ flashes one of his signature grins, "of course he is, because we are the ones that operated."

Still cocky...some things never change. For all these years of competing with JJ for surgery cases, Phichit fantasizes about all kinds of horrible things happening to him, like him getting drunk and the dirty video someone captures going viral, him getting scolded by chief Celestino for fingernails that is 1 mm too long, or for sleeping with medical students. Maybe...JJ isn't so bad after all...

He smiles to himself and shakes his head as he takes out his phone and deletes "Brown-noser Leroy" and replaces it with simply "JJ". That was immature of me, he chuckles. He is approaching the sterile white hallway of the operating room of the abandoned hospital, then he hears JJ's footsteps.

"So, Chulanot," JJ catches up to him and steps a little closer.

Phichit quickly hides his phone reflexively as he takes a step back, his back is pressed against the wall.

"What are you going to do to thank me?" He smiles showing perfect white teeth leaning closer. "I put my neck on the chopping block and risked my license for you."

Phichit raises an eyebrow and lets out a short laugh, "as if there are enough people alive out there to take our licenses away." What's up with him, he wonders.

JJ laughs back.

Then with pure confidence, JJ gently steps forwards and tips his chin up with two fingers, leans down and presses his lips briefly against his. Today he did not put on his usual obnoxious cologne, he smells like...the fresh scent of a forest.

What the fuck.

"You are welcome." JJ's back quickly disappears behind the double door.

Phichit feels heat rising from his face, he presses his hands against his mouth, and he can still feel the warmth of JJ's lips. His heart pounding.

What the fuck.

He can't remember the last time he went on a date, made out with, or slept with someone. He may have done those things after a drunken night after a long day of being in the operating room. Sometimes medical training does that to people. Life gets put on hold. Medicine is first. Trainees don't have time to have real relationships, so they resort to hooking up and friends with benefits.

Then he realizes he didn't exactly not enjoy that kiss...

Of all people.

It had to be JJ.

Fuck.

Hello my readers,

To be honest I was surprised by the ending scene of this chapter, that wasn't planned. The characters did that on their own. I did enjoy transforming Phichit into a foul mouthed jaded neurosurgeon-in-training though...

I wanted this chapter to end this way because last chapter hurts too much.

I love the next chapter, looking forward to polishing it and sharing it with you.

Leave me a comment if you enjoyed this chapter, my twist at the end, or if you want to throw virtual tomatoes at me. I do review everything I read personally, I am not begging for reviews by any means, but I do think writers work hard and pour little bits of themselves into stories and that sometimes a few kind words can make their day, :) that's my two cents. Constructive feedback always welcome!

xoxo,

Antares

Re: reviews

Little Ms. Pumpkin: yes there will be a happy ending :). From the scale of 1 to 10, 1 being everyone dies and the world ends, 10 being like most Disney stories, I would say it would be between 8 and 8.5. Thanks, as always!

PPGLOVER101: hope that means in a good way lol. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Somerandomperson: yes :) I will pick up the pieces I promise. It was actually painful writing the last chapter, so I decided I had to end this chapter like this. Hope you enjoy it!