CHEMICALS

one - again

a/n: welcome to my third attempt at a cancer fic. hopefully i don't delete this one lmao!! just know that some chapters may be kinda long, some may be super short, this isn't going to devestatingly sad, and i sincerely hope you enjoy what i'm putting everything inside of me into. thank you, happy reading xx

p.s. this is only gonna be twenty chapters :)

p.p.s i'm happy with how this turned out, so i think i'll finish this story, man!!

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- JOSHUA WILLIAM DUN -

"I need a drink," Aaron grumbled tiredly, lazy fingers slipping socks onto his pale feet, not bothering to look up at me while he spoke, eyes dragged down to the dirty carpet below him. "You should get me a drink, Josh."

"We have the first class of the year in. . . nine minutes, and you're asking me for a drink?" I asked, attempting to run a hairbrush through the thick, mangled curls of my brown hair. I let out a gentle groan at the sight of myself in the disgusting, smudged mirror (that was spotted with toothpaste and water) because just a glance at me from anyone was going to be enough to tell that I was completely exhausted, was going to be enough to tell that I hadn't studied at all while I'd been back home, was going to be enough to tell that I spent three months running around Philadelphia as if it was a city that called for nothing but mischief and my footprints and my lack of sleep. But, it was my home, and you're supposed to have fun when you're home, I guess.

"You're not getting me a drink, then?"

Giving up on my hair entirely, I threw the brush down on the side of the sink, plastic clattering against the cheap porcelain, and snorted. "No."

"You're not?"

"What I am going to do, is motivate you enough to get to class on time." I responded, making my way from the cramped bathroom and over to our nonexistent kitchen, where my cheap coffee was taking its sweet time brewing. "The boys are probably already waiting outside, anyway."

"Like every year?" Aaron asked, eyes rolling, feigning annoyance.

I nodded. "Like every year."

"Can you believe it?" Aaron asked, watching me grab for my drink as soon as the machine told me it was done. I ignored the slight heat emitting from it and went in, raising the cup to my lips and swallowing back the scorching liquid that washed over my tongue like a tsunami. Aaron could tell, though, when I winced in pain. He could always tell. "Junior year."

And I always remembered sighing, a smile dancing across my face. "Junior year."

"Shit, there's two years ahead of us," Aaron groaned, adjusting his feet into his boots. "Two years."

"Yes, that's right," I answered. "I'm glad you can do that math."

"You're an asshole." He stood up from the bottom bunk, arching his back into a stretch, bones popping.

"No," I corrected. "We're juniors."

I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and then laughter was spilling between us and we were walking from our dorm as if the world was in front of us, as if it was laid out for us to take, and, it kind of was, and it kind of wasn't.