Many months of hard work passed, sweeping by, dragging with it the manual labour that the two young men and their families had to partake in, and eventually, it was winter again. An unexpected sun had risen above the sleepy town one Sunday morning, casting its long arms through the open window of a newly-rented apartment, its heat burning the backs of the young men inside, drawing the sweat from their hairlines at an almost impressive rate. Still, with the collection of boxes and furniture surrounding them, to both Connor and Jonah, the labour wasn't moving at anything resembling a fast pace and the end was most certainly out of sight.
Having placed carpets and rugs where they saw it necessary, painted the walls that were outstandingly dull, and began shifting around the heavier of the furniture that their hard-earned funds paid for, the two simply collapsed onto the sofa that they had just moved into place, falling almost on top of one another in tired heaps on the cushions. Of the two young men, it was Jonah who gave the first audible indication that he'd already had enough of moving their stuff around so much.
"Dammit," he sighed, an obvious groan tied into his tone as he let out a whine-like sound, "why can't we have just rented a furnished apartment from the start? Why did we do this now?" he continued to complain, eventually finding himself going quite off-topic, "and the sun's really hot, too. Why's it so hot today, it's December! And why do we only have a week before college breaks up and we go for the Christmas holiday? Why when it's nearly Christmas? We're probably just going to go and see our own families for a few days then, so what the hell are we doing renting a place out, setting it up, only to leave it for almost a week?"
"Jonah!" Connor eventually silenced him, raising his voice just a little, leaning to one side until his cheek was against his strong shoulder, "you know why we rented this place now; we did it because we finally had the money to keep us going for a while, and you kept saying that the sooner we do it, the better for both of us." The curly-haired male had been Jonah's source of optimism throughout the process, even if he wasn't aware of it or didn't want to encourage him to do what he was doing. Whenever Jonah found himself too exhausted at the job that he finally found for himself, the thought of finally whisking away the boy he loved and finding them somewhere private where they could live together and where he could be certain that he was okay was what pushed him forward. Although, at the back of his mind, Jonah also knew that Connor hated the idea of this-hated the thought that it was him who was pushing his lover to work so hard.
Now that he had finally done it, they finally had a place, Connor was still Jonah's positivity.
Jonah nodded, looking back down at his lap as he listened to his words, leaning his head to the side to rest on Connor's. He felt the warmth against his cheek as it made contact with the mass of hair that the sun had been shining on for hours already. "You're right, I'm sorry," he sighed again, "it's just painful having to work so hard-" he suddenly fell silent, another unrelated thought striking him "-and I still need to get Christmas shopping done and over with too? Are you kidding me? What the hell am I gonna buy my grandparents that could possibly impress them after they paid for my accommodation for the next few months?" As he spoke, he didn't notice Connor sighing, or feel him shifting around, the dread and exhaustion blinding him as he let out his elongated rant. "I mean, they're already really difficult to shop for, but if I show up to see them at Christmas with something totally mundane, they'll give me the look of soul-crushing disappointment that they'd certainly been practising for the day that they get to say 'oh, well we bought you an apartment,' or whatever they'll want to be upset about this time!"
By now, having not yet met Jonah's grandparents, even throughout the moving process, Connor was totally lost, partially thinking that he was simply exaggerating, but also wondering if they were truly as harsh as he was making them out to be. Either way, he wasn't willing to hear his boyfriend complaining about it for too long. Jonah didn't notice Connor's movements until he saw him moving one leg over him, allowing himself to perch comfortably on Jonah's lap.
"Hello?" Jonah looked up at him, confused when he finally acknowledged what he had done.
Connor's expression was unreadable, but inside his head, there was uncertainty, like a sea that wasn't calm or stormy but was in an unseen limbo somewhere between the two states. He didn't like how Jonah was talking so much about such negative things, considering the negatives of finally moving in place of the positives, but he didn't want to grow irritated at him for doing so either. Although, the limbo lies where Connor found himself thinking that he was glad that they could complain to one another, quite relieved that Jonah wasn't trying to hide or contain any frustrations. Now that he was on Jonah's lap, Connor leaned closer to his face, resting their foreheads together as a much more eased and relaxed expression appeared upon his face.
"Let's relax for a little while, then," he said in a soft voice; it was a voice that Jonah was used to, but the tone that he loved and that so easily made him melt into the young man he loved so much.
He let out a steady breath, closing his eyes for a second before muttering a quiet, "thank you."
His strong arms snaked around Connor's slim waist, his hands moving up his back. Jonah then quickly moved, bringing his legs up and turning onto his side on the couch, as a result turning Connor along with him and moving around until he was lying on his back with Connor resting his head on his chest. And so, they lay still, both of them almost falling asleep in a comfortable silence for up to an hour, only disturbed when one of the boys heard their phone vibrating. Connor had been offered some help from his father, who also claimed to have 'exciting news,' and so, they invited him to join them in their new home to explain his 'good news' and to offer them help in finishing their arrangement of all of their new furniture.
Simon arrived at the flat in half an hour, by which point, the boys had forced themselves off the sofa, digging through the boxes in the kitchen to find the kettle that they hadn't yet used or even opened.
"Work or news first?" Connor asked his dad when he arrived at their door, a smile on his face that carried the joy of a man who'd woken to find that he'd won millions without effort overnight. He was ecstatic.
"News, I can't not tell you this, it's important," Simon answered, the fast manner of his response and the enthusiastic, underlying tone in his voice alerting those who were now living in the flat to the fact that this truly was an important update to... something.
"Connor, the store surpassed targets last month, and I was offered a promotion to the head of the English department after Mr Hatton retired, so in short, if it all goes the way your mother and I have worked out and we put away the additional cash, we should be able to get you a radiotherapy appointment by the end of the month."
When he finished speaking, it took some time for it to register to the others what they had just heard. It was sudden when they did, like an alarm blaring in their heads.
"Wha-" Connor began, trying to order the words he wanted to say, only needing clarity that he'd heard properly. "Dad, are you serious? Am I finally going to start the therapy?"
Simon nodded with such enthusiasm that he almost felt his neck cracking. Jonah produced a breath that he originally intended to be a word, the pleasant surprise he got from such words catching him totally off guard and therefore temporarily rendering him unable to speak.
"That's-" there was a pause as a wide smile appeared on the younger's face, Connor almost jumping at his father, hugging him out of excitement and somewhat disbelief, "-incredible! I can't believe it! I'm going to get better, aren't I?"
Hearing his words, Simon almost immediately felt the prickling of tears in his eyes, a moment of pride and relief washing over him at the words 'I'm going to get better.' Simon returned the embrace that his son was offering him, his hands resting on his back.
"Yeah, Connor, you will."
Jonah was shortly invited to join their exchange, the two Prices then wrapping their arms around him too, far too overjoyed by the news of his boyfriend's treatment to avoid showing it.
However, after the weekend passed, the shifting of furniture had come to a close, the two could finally settle, and therefore could spend their first few nights sleeping together in their new place, but it was the opportunity to do such a thing that alerted Connor to a very unhealthy habit that his boyfriend had picked up seemingly due to lack of time between moving and working.
It was almost two o'clock when Connor awoke as a result of a peculiar dream that, although he knew had been strange, by the time he sat up, he had already forgotten the majority of the dream's contents. Either way, it had awoken him and left him feeling strange, then rendering him slightly startled when he realised that he wasn't in his old room anymore, before the curly-haired boy calmed himself with the reminder that he'd spent the last few days moving house and now lived in a flat with Jonah. With the reminder that he lived with Jonah, there came a sudden thought that the bed seemed much larger than when he had fallen asleep- or maybe it was simply much emptier. Where was Jonah?
To one side of the bedroom, they had a small study, big enough to fit a desk, chair and a small bookcase, with a light bright enough to shine under the bottom of the door. Upon seeing the outstretched beams of light illuminating part of the carpet out of the corner of his eye, Connor made the reasonable assumption that he'd found his boyfriend, although he found himself growing quite vexed at the thought of him being awake so late into the night.
He discarded the covers, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up, marching purposefully through the door and finding exactly what he expected; Jonah was up late and was continuing with studies he'd missed the opportunity to do over their days off.
"Jonah, why the hell are you working so late?" he questioned the medical student, who turned in his seat to face the man he lived with.
Jonah already looked as though he had deprived himself of multiple full nights of sleep, his skin so pale that he appeared almost ghostly compared to his usual tan, his colourless complexion emphasising the bags under his eyes, making him look almost as though he'd actually been punched multiple times with enough force to bruise both eyes. He looked terrible and felt worse. At the pit of his stomach, Jonah felt a weight, something crushing him, from the inside and weighing him down physically, applying more and more pressure to his weakening legs every day.
He responded with a rough voice, his throat just as run down and exhausted as the rest of him. "I'm just finishing up, I'll be back in a few minutes," he attempted to reassure Connor, who looked far less than convinced, "you should be asleep too."
He only heard a deep sigh as a response, the stress of their previous hard work during the moving period had also set in within Connor's exhausted mind, and much like Jonah had done previously, he expressed his own distaste.
"Don't tell me that, I already know," he snapped, Jonah's attention turning back to him suddenly, "I'm not going to keep reminding you to care for yourself, you're the aspiring doctor here. After we finally found somewhere to live and actually give ourselves the chance to act like adults, you still can't balance your time?" Very much unlike the pure anger that Connor had been consumed by in their Oaken Ridge days upon hearing that Chris had tried to deter Mason and Millie from approaching him, it almost felt as though Connor was unable to raise his voice at Jonah. His words came out in something barely above a whisper, resembling the hiss of a snake, however, he somehow had the ability to convey a tone that contained the same amount of venom as the exact same creature. Although, it was different from rage; it bordered on concern or sickness, the distaste he was experiencing only a fraction of this whirlpool that the stress had conjured. Connor was so angry that Jonah hadn't yet been able to divide his time wisely or healthily. He was worried that the hours of hard labour during the day, followed by immense focus during the night would eventually take a horrible toll on the man he loved. And he felt sick; sick of worrying, sick of working, sick of losing sleep, and just sick in general, right down to the horrible feeling of his throat, a dreadful taste accompanying it. It felt like he was about to throw up.
Jonah's brow furrowed, turning fully in the desk chair to face Connor, seeing the look of disgust clearer now that he had his full focus.
But Connor, despite how rotten he was already feeling, continued, still unable to raise his voice. "There's only so much that I can do to help you, and I know that you worked so hard because you thought it'd be better for us- or was it better for me? Because it's clearly doing you no good, and I can't do anything else to help you clearly. You're gonna mess yourself up!"
The taller of the two let out a breath. Hearing the way Connor was saying these words, almost spitting them towards the end, somehow blind to the worry he was causing. Taking his lower lip between his teeth, he pushing himself up from the desk chair, not even making an attempt to respond or deny what he was saying; he wasn't helping himself at all, but he was so behind on his studies that-... surely moving was a valid excuse he could give to his teachers to earn himself some extra time and perhaps some help. Jonah stood up straight, stretching his arms towards the ceiling, feeling as his bones shifted after being slouched over in his chair for so long, loud clicks and creaks erupting from various places from his shoulders and down his spine. After which he simply let his arms fall back to his side, then raising them only slightly to rest his hands on Connor's waist.
"I'm sorry," he sighed, taking his shorter lover into a soft and tender embrace, not arguing his 'innocence' due to how much concern he heard in Connor's voice, even making him aggravated, so Jonah gave up, "let's go bac to bed."
Connor looked back up at him, his brows furrowing at how easily he was convinced, shaking his head as he let out a deep sigh, calming himself down and refusing to ask why; he wanted to avoid all opportunities for Jonah to then say that he had any more work to do. They both returned to the bedroom, turning off the light as they exited the office and returned to the bedroom. Neither said a word to the other as they climbed back into bed, although Connor noticed how sluggish Jonah's movements were. He was clearly exhausted, his body moving a strange mix of fluidly yet stiffly, his arms and legs weak, but almost rickety, and it didn't surprise him at all that, once they'd climbed in and under the covers, shuffling closer to one another and snuggling into each other's embrace, the darker-haired male was especially quick to fall asleep, leaving Connor to think for a few minutes before he allowed himself to slip out of consciousness.
The night had a positive effect on Jonah, who woke up feeling refreshed. His copper eyes fluttered open to the view of their ceiling, his body regaining the sensation enough to feel one arm raised and slipped beneath his pillow, the other extended sideways, although the weight that he wished to be there was missing. After finally having a decent amount of sleep, the six hours he got able to see him through just a little longer until he was no longer due at college and could sleep once again, he was able to think quickly again, realising immediately that his arm was outstretched for Connor to lay on it while they embraced during the night, and therefore knowing that the lack of weight and how easy it was to move it meant that his boyfriend was no longer there in the bed with him. Finally regaining the strength to move his entire body, he turned his head, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light, which although did take some time to allow him to see, was also at a minimal. The curtains were still drawn, and it's fairly common for the first of the two to wake up to open them, regardless of whether it would wake the other or not. It was only when his vision solidified and regained focus that a blur of colour became something clearer to him. Against a light blue pillow, he saw a single splodge of something he didn't remember being there before, his eyes snapping open wide when he realised what it was; there was blood on the pillow beside him. Jonah didn't waste any time, throwing the covers off himself, he ran from the bedroom, ignoring the first-thing-in-the-morning clicking that his bones were producing as they moved. In the closest thing to a sprint that his tired legs could manage, he found his way to the bathroom, seeing the door slightly ajar and hearing a quiet whimpering coming from inside. He didn't hesitate. The aspiring doctor forced the door wide open, at the speed he was running and the force he used, it easily slammed against the opposite wall, luckily not denting or damaging the wall that it hit. Of course, this got Connor's attention. With eyes wide and glazed by the layer of tears, he stared at Jonah, helplessly. Again, he began to feel that whirlpool of concern, anger, and sadness at the pit of his stomach; he worried what Jonah would do, became angry at himself for not being able to do anything, and grew saddened at the horrible thought that still affected him- no matter how much effort he puts into living an adult life with Jonah, no matter how many apartments he moves to, or how many months they count since they got together, he still had his diagnosis of lung cancer hanging over him. For a while, it had been tame, other things on their mind, and even Simon's announcement hadn't quite reminded him that it was real. The hope that he was going to heal had somehow blinded him to what it was he was trying to heal from.
Finally, Connor spoke, his voice hoarse, his reddened lips, still a drop of blood halfway towards his chin, moving very subtly, his voice almost sounding disconnected due to how little he moved his mouth.
"I'm so sorry," was all that he could say. He felt like he had to, but neither of them knew why he was apologising. For having the illness that he would never wish upon himself, never desired to get, and therefore wasn't responsible for? Surely not.
Luckily, as an aspiring doctor, Jonah had learnt not to stay still in moments of panic, lest he let somebody in his care die if he ever got the qualifications to pursue this line of work, and so, by the time Connor had spoken, he'd already shuffled about the room, grabbing handfuls of tissues, holding his lover gently by the waist and began lightly dabbing away the blood that remained on his face. The visual was heart-breaking, the one he loved already sick and in pain, now apologising for it, and to top it off, the tears that had collected and pricked at his eyes were starting to fall. Jonah wiped those away too.
"Don't apologise," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back, placing the tissues aside when he saw that he'd gotten rid of the majority of the thick fluid, "is that all of it? Do you feel o-"
Almost as if his body was responding to his question, Connor turned back to the sink, hunching over as his hands found the edges of the basin again. His nails would have dug into it, bending backwards slightly as his grip was so strong. From the back of his throat, there came a horrific retching sound, followed by even more thick blood, adding to the amount he'd already had to spit out earlier that morning. Jonah kept his hand on Connor's back, turning on the hot water tap, washing it all out of the bowl quickly, knowing that there wasn't much he could do in such a situation. And once again, he felt his own eyes stinging with tears.
Jonah thanked his lucky stars that both he and Connor had the morning off and only had to attend school during their afternoon classes, meaning after this sudden ordeal, they had the time to sit down together and relax. Connor's hands were shaky for almost half an hour after he coughed up what he judged would be the last of the blood, sitting down on the sofa beside Jonah with a deep feeling of dread, clutching a bowl close to his stomach just in case he needed to choke or sputter anymore- he felt terrible for staining the new pillowcase already, regardless of however many times his loved assured him that it was okay, so he insisted on keeping the bowl with him in case he threatened to stain the rest of the new furniture. His head resting on Jonah's shoulder, the curly-haired boy managed to calm himself down, his racing pulse slowing to its normal speed and his breathing far less laboured after some time, both of them staring at the television, neither of them paying much attention to what was on. They weren't watching anything, and occasionally Jonah would flick between different channels and land on a random one just to keep him somewhat entertained, but still, all they were focusing on was each other. Jonah listened to Connor's breathing- Connor listened to Jonah's breathing -Jonah stroked Connor's knee, soothingly- Connor nuzzled against his shoulder.
Connor's previous realisation that, after so much change in his life, nothing they had done so far could change his condition, still nagged, bit and tore at his mind. He couldn't seem to forget it, and for some time while he sat there, he considered all of the effort they'd put in absolutely pointless. All of their hard work manifested in the form of the roof above their heads, the walls surrounding them, the floor beneath their feet, and the furniture that decorated the place, all pointless.
But it wasn't. It had been for him, and it had been for Jonah.
"I think I should call the school and say that I won't be in today," Connor finally spoke, his voice hushed and still a little rough, "I'll just go back to bed."
"Call me if you need me though, okay?"
Connor nodded, snuggling closer to his taller boyfriend
He'd get through this, for him, and for Jonah.