Bloody Soap

'Ah, I must pretend that I am a normal person again.'

I rolled from under the heavy arm that Namjoon had over me to have a glass of water. Skip the shower to hang out on the edge of the bathtub in yesterday's clothes instead just so I'd be able to smoke in peace before he'll wake up. And that's all I did before brushing my teeth twice while throwing something clean on while trying to ignore any thoughts which loudly announced that by grabbing the backpack and stepping out of Namjoon's house, I will become visible to the rest of the world.

And that didn't just freeze the blood that previously flowed through my veins just fine. But sucked most oxygen out of my brain and left me begging for an invisibility cloak.

I could blame the weed for a lot of mishaps, but I knew, deep down, that all thought, reason, and identity ceased to exist at the smallest sign of conflict. In fact, I expected the worst to happen inside and outside any confined place, and even when it didn't, I simply considered myself lucky. Fooled by the universe in its one million and one attempts to make me drop my guard until the day it will inevitably strike again.

'I wonder why.'

"What did your therapist say about it?"

The guy with whom I share most shifts, Todd, asked, yet his fingers never ceased texting.

"That parents have social patterns. Like, mm…if you do or say something they don't like, they'll punish you. Or reward you when you do something good, in their opinion or society's opinion. Anyways, my parents simply lacked any concise patterns…"

"I don't get it."

"Hmm…Let's say there's a jar of cookies on the table and they don't tell me if I can or cannot take one, so I just take one whenever and they sometimes punish me for it, other times, they didn't even react. Sometimes, they'd praise me for eating well and went as far as eating one with me. There's no pattern that tells me when I should or shouldn't take one. It's like I am pressing a random button every time I reach for the same cookie. It basically gives me an unpredictable reaction each time that is dependent on how my parent felt in that moment, which had, most likely, nothing to do with me. Making little me utterly...powerless."

"Ok…But what does that have to do with your anxiety?" He looked up with a raised brow.

"When you're young, that's when your brain learns how to…cope with people. And mine learned that no matter what I do, the parent will do whatever it wants. I can't control a thing. So, at some point, I thought it was better to stop eating cookies altogether. I made it all about myself since I could control it and denied, suppressed, and rejected having the need for the cookie itself. As an adult, I froze, hid, or ran away in front of most decisions to protect myself," I cleared my throat as various memories popped up without my permission, "Either way, I remained clueless as to what made them angry or happy. And now I can't predict if someone will slap me for no reason or if what I did to get that slap is due to a good reason at all. She said that makes me what other people call: anxious."

I made an unnecessary tight knot on the apron and threw my jacket in the corner as if it was its fault for all my emotional problems. He kept typing without batting an eye, yet concluded:

"That's a very elaborate thing you remembered... I think it's a safety thing then."

"Exactly. Better safe than sorry, I guess."

"That sucks."

"Don't I know it…"

His face lit up.

"I think I get it though. It's the same thing with my claustrophobia. I mean…if the elevator breaks or something, you don't know when it's going to happen or if you're going to ever get out or not. So, I'd rather avoid the slightest possibility by taking the stairs even when I'm feeling sick."

"Yeah. Like that. The only difference is that I can't avoid…all humans."

'At least, not all of the time.'

I bit my tongue and took my phone out of the backpack.

"True. Hey, is that guy you told me about, is he still bothering you?"

"Nah. It's all good now."

"Oke. But keep me posted."

We walked out of the staff room which allowed me to breathe a bit easier. We left the cloud of that conversation behind us and now that the door was closed, I could finally move on:

"Do we unload the new stuff now or later?"

"No idea. But we shouldn't bother boss until nine-thirty or he's going to be cranky all day."

"You'll leave before he arrives today, though." I reminded him with a shrug.

"He has my phone number and he will call me. Not even text me, he will call only to complain!"

"I'll get a head start on cleaning, then. Oh, shit. It's late. Go open quick."

The colorful soda bottles and cans, chips of all flavors, candy, and chocolate would usually tempt me, but not when I was on the clock.

I thought I didn't have a sweet craving because I was sober when I first got this job. But now, I was actually nauseous and strangely aware of the reason why.

'I can't relax when people can come in and out at any moment…'

I almost jumped when someone stepped in and the beeping sound hit me as soon as Todd turned the open-closed sign around.

"Good morning." He quickly mumbled, just as surprised.

"Morning. Do you guys sell cigarettes?"

"Of course, they're by the cash register." He pointed to it since they were still awkwardly standing at the doorway.

"Marlboro Menthol, peppermint gum, some sour skittles, and oh, hold on. I forgot what my friend wanted…I will give him a call."

"…"

While wiping some of the shelves, I was trying to ignore the feeling of all my insides twisting and turning.

'I should've listened to Namjoon and had a bit of his breakfast when I had the chance.'

"Mole, what did you want? …Again?... What flavor? …Fine. Some beer and pretzels too."

"Those are in the back."

The tall, blond man locked eyes with me before passing by. The smell of a musty, yet flowery scent washed over me like a strong breeze, and then I had no choice but to drown in it.

'I think I am about to vomit.'

"Anything else?" Todd watched the guy when he started touching some stuff by the register and then letting them go with a pair of confused eyes.

"No."

"Come again."

The second he headed for the door, I dropped the rag and walked towards Todd, ready to sprint.

"I need to go to the bathroom quick."

"Don't worry about it, Jungkook. Take your time, not many people come at this hour anyway."

I nodded and forced a smile at his understanding self. However, what kept me dead in my tracks was the sudden realization that the door didn't make its usual beeping sound which would inform us that the customer has exited the store.

He was standing as still as I was, bags hanging by his sides, right in front of the doors.

A few seconds passed before he turned around and took a good look at my face before he broke into a smirk.

"Wha…?"

He left without telling me why.

Todd was next to me, scratching the back of his head.

"Do you know the guy?" He asked.

"No. You?"

"No."

I shrugged and escaped to the tiny bathroom that Todd hated with his entire nervous system.

It was good enough for me since small spaces meant it was wide enough just for one person. The total opposite of the shop.

I hovered over the dirty seat and waited for the empty stomach to spit out whatever it decided that it needed to go:

'The water I drank earlier or the very air I had the nerve of breathing?'

The phone buzzed and distracted me from what I hoped would not become a habit after happening a grand total of four times.

"Have you seen my deodorant?"

'I told Namjoon not to text me unless it's an emergency. Didn't I?'

"No. But I didn't throw it away, so it's still somewhere in the house."

'And it might be running empty by now.' I thought with a frown.

"That solves it. How's your day going so far?"

"Feeling a bit nauseous. And the first customer of the day stopped and stared at me for no reason."

"Maybe you looked pale? Want me to bring you some food? I am free for the next hour."

"I might grab something from around here. And I am too nauseous to eat anyways. Thanks though."

"How about I buy you some pills for nausea? Then you can eat."

"Namjoon…I know that you didn't want me to go to work today, but…"

He sent another text before I got to send mine:

"We have class tomorrow, so we'll have to pretend we don't know each other again. And you left me all alone in bed without giving me a hand today..."

"I didn't want to be late! Remember that I am a new part-timer and I need this job."

"I know. But I have to deliver later and I don't think I will be done by the time you leave work."

"I'll go back home to get some clothes then. Run the water for a bit since Jung thinks we're both staying there! I think he left us some food too."

"Want to hang at your place for a while then? Though I prefer my bed. Your mattress is the equivalent of sleeping on a block of wood."

"Hard mattresses are good for the spine."

"Keep telling yourself that while you're sleeping on my soft futon every night."

'That's literally one layer on top of the floor!' I erased the message, sighed, and went into the hallway.

"Talk to you later." Sent this one instead.

"Fine. But you're helping me when you get back, right?"

"Help you with what?"

"You know what."

"I don't…"

"Never mind, then."

'What is he on about?'

"Jungkook?!"

"Yeah?"

"Where's the longer broom?"

"I left it in…Oh shit."

"What?!" Todd's face was blocked by Kwan's.

"Hi." She uttered with an unreadable expression.

"Hi," I replied and pulled at the corner of the black apron as if that would make it disappear.

"I didn't know that you worked here. Or that you work, period."

"Yeah, well, I needed some spare cash for..."

'For my addiction.'

I continued: "Stuff. It's just part-time and it's hard to find something serious when we have school and since we don't have so many free hours, I thought that…" I rambled with an embarrassment that took over me.

I stopped talking when I heard her soft chuckle.

"I am not here to bust you or anything. I work too, you know? Well, it's online, but it's all I can do without my mom going nuts about me wasting time and not studying. I'd pay to be able to work with actual people."

"Yeah. I wish we could switch jobs." I joked, but I meant every word.

She stood there smiling with her dark hair in a ponytail, holding onto a box of chocolate-covered biscuits.

'What do you need money for?' That is what I wanted to ask.

However, I kept my mouth shut after rapidly scanning her item and asking if she wanted anything else with freshly produced stomach acid burning the back of my throat after every syllable. I had to keep myself from screaming when she casually requested:

"Yes. Can you convince Namjoon to come to the club soon? I really need his help with the math test that's coming up."

"Yeah. One hundred percent. He'll come this week... for sure."

"Great, see you then."

"Bye," I said quickly.

"By the way, did Boa tell you that she'll have her first performance in front of an actual crowd?"

"So soon?"

She nodded, walking backward.

"She joined a group that had been dancing for a while and they said that it's better to mess up than not do it at all. Wanna come see it with me? Or us. Not sure who's coming yet."

"Of course." I said grinning. Hiding the discontent behind my eyes.

"Great. I will hit you up with the details. If you have Namjoon's number, let him know as well. Bye."

She waved, and I released air that has stopped circulating for several minutes the exact moment when the beeping sound made contact with my ears.

"Who was she?" Todd asked, intrigued.

"A friend. We're in the same club." I spit out with my head down, holding onto the counter for dear life.

"She looks… nice."

"She is."

"I like glasses on a girl."

"Don't talk about Kwan like that," I mumbled in a low tone.

"Like what? I was just stating my personal preference."

"Just like that? You like her just because she has glasses and doesn't look like a murderer?"

"Wow, I didn't expect you to get offended so easily. I take it back, man. Damn."

"Ask her out. I don't care." I suddenly spit out while exhaling with rage that had nothing to do with Kwan and more to do with the restlessness about the fact that I had to keep working for the next four hours.

"I wonder about that…So, where's the broom?"

Four hours of checking people out, listening to their stories, and dusting. Unloading boxes alone left me incredibly tired and groggy.

"Boy, you're not in a good mood today." He observed as I threw my uniform in a corner and slipped back into casual clothes with the energy of an angry sloth.

"I am hungry."

"Why didn't you eat something?"

"Because it's all making me want to throw up at the same time."

"Why are you…" I turned around and shoot him an ugly stare," Fine, fine, I will mind my own business, but eat ten minutes before our next shift together, please. I want to keep being friends with you. I think." His grin made my glare dissipate.

The sun burned the crown of my head from the moment I stepped out. And the phone kept buzzing.

All I wanted to do was to have the power to teleport from the shop to my house at will.

After twenty minutes of listening to some calming music and texting back, my brother was distracting me enough from the horror that was walking while starving.

As soon as I arrived home, I plopped down on my bed and shut my eyes with the full intent of falling asleep.

But my stomach protested.

"What did you cook?"

"Lasagna." My brother answered.

'Ah…' I left the phone on the bed and crawled towards the kitchen. Grabbed a spoon, got the dish out, an empty plate in hand, I took a bite of the lasagna like it could've been anything, but cheesy goodness.

One spoonful turned into three, those turned into seven, and pretty soon, I ate half of it in at most, 5 minutes. The plate was still clean, abandoned by the sink.

Looking at what was left filled me with premature embarrassment at the thought of Namjoon noticing that I ate so much in one sitting.

'I can say that I've dropped some by accident?' I negotiated with myself as my spoon kept digging for bites that wouldn't make much of a difference, but since my wrist kept moving, the remaining half was getting smaller and smaller.

'I can tell him that Jung left only a little bit and that I ate my share already.'

I secured the last piece in a plastic container before I cleaned the utensil and looked inside the fridge for something else to eat when I heard my phone go nuts in the other room.

"By the way, is Namjoon's house still under renovations?"

Breathing paused on its own.

"It will be done in a day or two."

"Good. Did you check out the pictures of me and my girlfriend at the museum? That painting I am pointing to is worth millions."

"Yeah. A bit over the top if you ask me."

I lied.

Spotted some chocolate mint cookies, half a box of ice cream, and a ripe banana, which I dumped into the ice cream container that was the best bowl to ever exist. I ate all of it, pacing while my brain was at a standstill. Busy processing all the chemicals and flavors I was shoving in with the speed of a God.

By the time Namjoon called me, I was searching for the next best thing to devour.

"Where are you?"

"Home." I purposely kept my tone flat, but I felt the panic rise from somewhere deep inside my gut.

"Which one?" He asked, sounding strangely cheery.

"Mine."

"See you in five then."

The intercom fired up when I was eating the other two bananas that were entirely green.

'Shit.' I unlocked the front door with the toothbrush still working to erase the evidence from my teeth.

The kiss he left on my cheek before I escaped to the bathroom reminded me that I didn't wash my face today.

"Did you eat without me?"

I slightly flinched at the sensation of his hands embracing my waist before I absently nodded.

"I finished early too."

I could ignore the tight hold that barely allowed my arm to reach for the towel, but the kisses Namjoon kept planting were a poor distraction from the slight discomfort that started shooting from all the angles of my now, full belly.

"Wait, we have to turn on the Tv or something."

"Why?"

"To raise the electricity bill?"

"Do it later."

He spun me around and cornered me by the towel rack.

"Weren't you hungry?" An innocent question, meant to prevent his lips to do what they did anyway. Smashed against mine, action followed by a long tongue that slipped right in with no patience or need for permission.

"I am." The whispered response made many hairs stand up on the back of my neck. He pulled me closer until we collided so swiftly that it could've been mistaken for a dance move.

"Mph…" No words could escape as his whole tongue resumed filling every crevice.

The hands traveled from the upper back to the smaller back and started lifting the hoodie which prompted my eyes to snap open from their already unrestful slumber. Then the fingers twisted the already erect nipples without mercy.

"Stp…sph…"

"What?"

A question that continued with a kiss on the edge of my mouth, chin, and front of my neck finishing with controlled licks in small circles after innocent bites that felt like a thousand small mosquitoes sucking my blood at the same time.

"I didn't take a shower yet…" This bit of information made him smirk. The hoodie was used as a tool to drag me after him before stopping by the tub. The shower was turned on with the free hand.

"What is that supposed…" One movement later and the cold air was hitting the upper part of my body and the now naked bloated tummy was plain to see.

However, he didn't have time to look at it since he was busy taking off his own top after throwing mine on the toilet cover.

"You want us to…o take a shower toget…together?" The stuttered sentence and the several steps back didn't change a thing when he reached for my pants.

"Why not?"

'Why now?' I thought.

"It's a bit weird. I mean, we never did it before, and I don't feel like standing…"

"How about a bath, then? We can sit and talk."

"Sure…" I considered the pro and cons of the two evils and still made sure I was a few steps away from him either way.

The bath was plugged before his pants were removed in front of me like it was nothing.

I swallowed saliva with ice cream and banana-coated neck at the sight of the hard member that was hanging between his legs like the thickest cane to ever exist.

"What?" He asked, still smiling, right before he closed the distance between us and kissed a now reddening cheek.

"Nothing."

'Am I shaking?'

"I told you that I needed help this morning."

"But you can't …ah, finish like this…right? I mean, I can't do you under the water and…"

"You can use your hands."

"You will never finish…"

"Why are you in such a hurry? Or are you nervous right now?"

His playful smile had me biting the inside of the cheek he had just kissed when it dawned on me that all the food that I previously inhaled gifted me the feeling of a bag of rocks hanging from the middle of my body and that my skin felt disgusting. More importantly, it helped my mind sober up instantly.

"How about you get in first? I need to…text my brother back. I was talking to him before you had arrived and it'll be suspicious if I leave him on unread for a very long time."

Another kiss on the lips and an embrace had me wide-eyed and breathless. His long member was making contact with my clothed leg. So, I lightly pushed him away in an attempt to escape the situation.

His smile faded.

"Talking about your brother when I am like this…Aren't you cruel?"

"No. I just…"

"Go. But hurry back." He exhaled loudly and soaked in the little water that had gathered.

I tried to ignore the feet hanging from the edges of the tub which made some things fall to the ground since the tub was smaller than his build.

"Yeah," I uttered, for no reason while I just stood, suddenly petrified.

When his gaze met mine, I walked out and closed the door before running to the backpack on the counter.

What I found in my see-through zip bag was nothing short of disappointing.

'I thought I'd go straight back to his house after work... shit. Why didn't I get more?'

I didn't smoke. I took shots, mostly made out of burnt tobacco.

After chewing some gum and rinsing my mouth excessively, I was panting in front of the bathroom door shirtless and painfully aware of how sober I was.

'Fuck.'

The door revealed a wet Namjoon. I forced a smile at the sight of the bubbles that now covered only the lower half of his body.

"What did he say?"

"Who?"

"Your brother." He reminded me with a slightly arched eyebrow.

"Ah, nothing important."

I stood stiff as a board like someone does in front of his teacher when they're called in front of the class. But amused eyes beamed at me and hands made the bubbles dance around with carefree movements.

"Aren't you getting in?"

"Oh, yeah."

Turning around in instinct still didn't help much when the pants and boxers were below the ankles. The idea that he was watching me from behind didn't help ease my growing anxiety.

I was grateful when I noticed that he was turning off the tap instead of staring at my exposed behind.

The water moved like it was just a small wave inside a tiny container as I sat down with my feet close to me. In the only space left. Between his legs. With my face facing his face.

'Why the hell didn't I just say no and left?'

"What are you doing?" He asked, amused.

"What do you mean?"

"Turn around."

"Huh?"

With the help of the water and his natural strength, all it took to have my upper and lower back pressed against his chest, along with the groin was a small pull on one of my shoulders.

Despite the soap bubbles flying everywhere, he still kissed the top of my right shoulder, unbothered, as he secured me with an arm around my currently pulsating belly.

'You said we'll be talking.' Was the complaint that came up, but when I felt that something was moving back and forth against my ass, I swallowed those words and thought I wouldn't be able to talk anytime soon.

"Hmm…why aren't you hard yet?"

One large hand made contact with my sensitive skin and the muscles within my stomach got even tenser in a matter of milliseconds.

"Wait." I blurted out the instant his teeth sank deep into my shoulder.

He said nothing as if he heard nothing. Namjoon continued jerking me off and rubbing my ass against his erection with enough speed to send water flying out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor, soaking the carpet.

A small moan escaped my lips when I felt myself harden in his hand and it echoed right back into my ears, which made me bite my cheek with the intent of holding it in.

My voice was all I could control and nothing else after all.

"Don't cum yet."

He ordered as if I had the power to stop it and I simply, have never used it before.

One hand continued its fast torture while his hips moved back and forth from under me and the other hand suddenly grabbed the front of my neck with a light squeeze.

"No." Was both an answer to his demand, as well as a hopeless request for my lower parts to not do what they were meant to do before my own substance made the white bubbles pop with what felt like an orgasm that came out of me like a train ready to leave the station at the push of a single button. It left the rest of my skin burning with varying shades of red and pink.

That one hand stopped, but the hips never ceased their swaying and the water never stopped going back and forth as if we were sitting inside a water-filled boat. The grip around my neck only got tighter.

"You're too fast." He complained.

'You're too slow.' I argued in my head while reaching for one of his legs to make them stand still for at least one second. When that achieved nothing, my eyes snapped open and my breathing got stuck due to the increasingly constricted throat.

The tip accidentally grazed my entry and had me gasping for air dramatically with no regard for how it sounded.

'If he decided to take my virginity right now…he could and I wouldn't be able to do a thing.'

This silly thought made me reach for his cock with the same arm that I previously used on his leg. To my surprise, when my fingers closed as much as they could around it, all other movements ceased at the same time.

He seemed to realize that the position was in his favor at the following moment. That granted my neck its temporary freedom.

I exhaled the air that got trapped between his fingers and slightly turned around to watch him look at me while I continued to masturbate him underwater. The bubbles were wearing thin between his legs.

No moan came out. Not even an expression that'd betray any pleasure whatsoever. Just an intense stare that started to haunt me with every shallow breath I took.

I added the other hand to the mix. He licked his lips once before he leaned in and kissed me.

I could feel my whole neck burning alongside my face as the reality of the situation was taking bites out of me with every passing second.

'Don't think about it. Don't think about anything. Don't…'

Our tongues continued to try and conquer the other. His, in a battle for dominance. Mine, in a desperate quest for willful lack of awareness.

Hands massaged the long cock up and down, in a futile attempt to grasp its entire girth.

Since I was way too conscious of the reality of the situation than I would've liked to be, I could tell how unaffected he was by what I was doing and how affected I was by the reflection of my own face staring back from the clean black tiles behind him.

Probably, I would've been offended by his emotionless demeanor if I didn't wish that the ground would swallow me whole.

A deliberate bite to my lower lip woke me up from the trance I comfortably sank into after minutes upon minutes of doing the same motion with my hands. And an unconscious screech escaped because of the unexpected sharp pain which forced me to lean back with both hands hiding the lower part of my face.

What was left of the snow-white bubbles between us was now tainted by a drop of blood that rested on top of it for barely a nanosecond before it got swallowed up.

But I caught it, looked up, and faced the smile of a proud person who removed my hands to lick the string of blood that was dripping down my chin. And then, as if he wanted to let me know the exact flavor of metal that my own vital liquid possessed, he shoved his blood-coated tongue inside my mouth and swirled it around in a breathtaking French kiss.

I was partly aware that my hands stopped stimulating him altogether only when they unconsciously reached for his face.

Meanwhile, Namjoon decided it was time he lifted me up from the hips to hold me against the wall while he, himself, stood up and caused the water to flow down his legs and into the tub loudly.

Bubbles popped all over his skin in a mute scream.

'What are you doing?'

We were still making out when his cock was hitting my stomach as he thrust back and forth. To my relief, much slower than before.

'Is he trying to tell me that he wants to…?'

"Suck me."

He commanded one centimeter away from my ear. Forcing me down by grabbing the slightly wet hair with the grip one would handle a wild animal with a desire for freedom.

But I, the docile human, was busy swallowing his saliva, along with mine and the remaining blood before I tried to wrap my now bruised, still bleeding lip around the head of his dick.

As always, I could barely get the tip all in before it was too much.

He didn't like that, so he did what I hoped he wouldn't do when my knees hit the bottom of the tub.

He told me: "Deeper."

Shoved it in and pulled on my hair to create more momentum that would propel himself even deeper inside of me. As if that would solve the problem that was strictly anatomically related.

I choked on it. Bleed on it. And teared up as the sounds of my throat getting abused filled the bathroom like a sick song that I wished no one else had the misfortune of hearing.

He pulled on the slippery hair harder and forced it in a bit further until I could feel the food coming back up as a result of the head passing the threshold of my throat.

I tapped his leg and when I got no reaction, I tapped his arm like a wrestler letting the other fighter know that he was giving up. But the other wrestler continued the fight.

I dug my nails into his hand as hard as I could when not only my stomach cried out, but the muscles around it hurt as if my muscles alone felt the contraption of an impossible birth.

He finally released me.

I coughed into the corner of the tub, resisted the urge to throw up, and heard the sounds I couldn't stop from making, reverberating and washing over me as a result of some sort of macabre oral punishment.

"I…mhm..can…t can't do it….that…li..ke that…Do! Not…"

"Sorry."

Hesitantly, I resumed the previous position after regaining my composure with my eyes shut tight. So, I wouldn't see it all as I licked, rather than sucked with one thought in mind: 'Get this over with.'

He allowed it.

For a while.

The break didn't last long before he resumed face fucking me. But this time, getting only the head in and stopping there on purpose.

"If you would relax a bit and hold your breath, it would go past your throat, easily."

My eyes shoot open with newfound, burning anger.

'It barely fits in my mouth! The same thing fitting in my neck is a dream that's better left to be what it is! Your dream, my hospitalization!'

To my surprise, he didn't attempt it after mentioning it. But at least half an hour later, he was still solid between my lips.

Losing what was left of my patience, I willingly took in more, choked some more, and licked the veins when the food threatened to escape. I even let him guide me as I grew more and more tired.

'Has it been an hour already? How long can you stay this hard? I can't feel my lips anymore…'

Minutes upon minutes passed and besides the fact that my whole face was relaxed out of pure exhaustion, it seemed like he was hitting the back of my throat now as if it was a mark he liked to hit. But even when the hitting became more powerful, it wasn't enough to send him over the edge. Or to even get a sound out of him.

He was no longer pulling my hair out, but simply directing the head that was now a limp toy in his hand.

I wasn't resisting him at all at this point. Thinking nothing but:

'Just cum already! Please…'

When the same hand started caressing my scalp in what I actually thought was loving, tears welling up that was in spite of all the other ones, strangely enough, emotionally charged.

I leaned back and spoke with a hoarse voice. Words that went out my mouth right into his ears, without any thought behind them:

"If there's anything that could help you orgasm faster, just….do it. Don't hold back."

I heard it and he heard it since the lips that were just a thin line until now, parted and closed.

For the first time after what felt like an eternity, our eyes met and I felt like my whole body was ready to start shaking since I just offered it all up in one fell swoop.

"I didn't mean that you know...I mean, you can do some things. Anything, but… You know, but that." I quickly elaborated.

"I know."

I nodded with a nervous smile, with lips so dry that they couldn't unglue from one another.

And when his hand caressed the side of my face, this short-lived gentleness made my heart jump inside my chest until it was obvious to me that it was meant only for his fingers to reach down and grab my neck to pull me up to my feet.

I gasped for air as he sucked on the tongue that escaped from the sudden pressure.

Strangely, that was what turned me on.

The fact that my tongue couldn't remain in its usual resting place and had to hang outside its cave because of him. Instead of ignoring it, he sucked on it as if he wanted to pull it out. It made me hard even though I was anything but that, just a moment ago.

He knew that without having to look down. Since just then, he easily spun me around and pushed my now warm member and the rest of my body against the cold tiles of the wall before he removed even that bit of stimulus. By positioning me so that my ass was now sticking out. He forced my knees shut, making my thighs and knees touch each other.

When my mind caught on to what was occurring with my body, his dick was already fucking the space between the thighs, his hand was back to squeezing the neck and the remaining one was jerking off the smaller cock at a pace and roughness that was hurting to an unbearable point which made the mouth moan without knowing if it was out of pain or pleasure.

It just made sounds against my will.

'Isn't this how women are taken from…behind?'

This thought would've probably made me soften up immediately, but my cock didn't have time to do anything with his hand jerking it frenetically while the thrusts were growing faster and deeper, to the point that my whole body moved with the rhythm he commanded.

'This is not how he wants to do me, right? This is like…'

I barely felt it coming up before I shoot all that was left inside me all across the bathroom wall, all the while moaning embarrassingly loud when the hand holding my neck blocked all airways at once.

'Almost like...rape.'

My world turned into an immaculate shade of pure white. If someone would interrogate my brain, it would've answered with a grin and with shaking parts, that it was floating on a cloud made of ecstasy that shouldn't ever stop. And that this would've been true heaven on earth if this even felt remotely like something a being stuck above the soil should be capable of feeling. And if only the belly that had been filled with food didn't move back and forth, in tandem with his thigh fucking and weighting the rest of the body down like a bag of bricks and lighting up various nerve signals inside my brain that made it exit the trance to sadly become aware once more of how close to fainting it was more so now than how good naturally produced oxytocin was.

When the natural high wore off and my eyes could see the ceiling again. I was still not allowed to breathe.

Immediately, I reached for his hands with lazy, drunk-like movements, yet had no time to be covert about it. I pulled and scratched his skin like a feral animal.

My tongue was hanging outside my mouth as my head fell forwards. This forced me to inevitably witness how much of his cock was still left when he fully thrust between my thighs. Not even my now, protruding tummy could cover it.

'He'll split me in half...'

In an immediate whim, he pushed me into the wall once again. Nothing was touching me anymore. Therefore, my body tried to get back any bit of oxygen it didn't receive at the right time, now.

While his hot liquid was spilling all over my cold, bare ass.

A peck on the back of my neck let me know that it was over.

Knees felt like two tiny round rocks stacked on top of each other, rubbing against each other in an attempt to find some balance.

I held onto the wall with a feeble grip. Couldn't even turn around when the sound of the water getting drained and the shower coming alive behind me was the new song playing in the bathroom.

His soap-covered hand touched the cum covered ass and washed that off and even the space between my thighs before letting it all go down the drain.

I was still holding onto my neck as if it would fall off if I didn't.

Couldn't control the facial expression I had when he turned me around after washing my upper back, and neck, only to continue washing my front as well. Seemingly, beaming with energy.

"What's wrong? Did I squeeze too hard?"

"No." I lied.

"Tell me. I held back... but let me see."

He removed my hand and leaned down to check the spots where his fingers made the most contact.

"I can't see anything...I got a bit carried away. Sorry if it hurts."

"It's fine, I ...liked it." I heard myself saying, still drunk from the white haze that engulfed me and abandoned me, not before it gifted me some endorphins on its way out. In a way, I thought of it as a reasonable give and take of pain, if this was the amount of pleasure it was capable of creating in the end.

As if being showered with gold after having to crawl in the mud, overcrowded with rocks and dead roaches for a long, long time.

"Me too, but...We should've discussed this beforehand."

"Discussed what?" I leaned against him with one arm and felt the warm water hit my tummy in a soothing way.

"We need a safe word or a certain number of taps, so you can let me know when it's too much, alright?"

"Yeah."

His soapy hands went from my chest to my enlarged belly and to my limp member like it was nothing. I was staring at his hand, paying extra attention to it when I heard him speak again:

"Pick one."

"Pick what?"

"A safe word."

He squatted down and washed the front of my legs as well.

"How about 'stop'?" I had a coughing fit, but the irony was lost on him anyway.

"That's boring."

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, and noticed that his face was at the same level as my crutch for the first time.

'Did I forget? Or has he never…'

"What about the word soap, then?"

He lightly chuckled.

"If you like it."

"Yeah. Soap it is."

"Alright. Three hard taps, anywhere, anytime you can't talk?"

"Ok."

"Ok. Actually, two would be better, in case you can't get to ...three." Full lips covered my lips and the cut he made stung for the first time as if my body had forgotten that it was supposed to hurt until now.

He proceeded to wash my hair when I decided that I should probably return the favor.

He chuckled again and backed off, the one-step he had space for.

"Don't. It's ticklish."

"Since when are you easily tickled?"

"I am now. I don't know why. Just turn around."

I found myself hesitating, although I was aware that the touching part of our day was supposed to be finally over.

That convinced me to do it before he started rubbing my ass and then the asshole with soap like one does after cleaning up everything but the soles of the feet of one's boyfriend.

"Ah…what are you doing?"

"Cleaning you up."

My muscles tensed up once again. My head was suddenly hurting and my belly ached.

"If I insert a finger in, does it hurt?" He asked and my heartbeat picked up its drumsticks and started playing.

"…I don't know. I've never tried that."

I waited and waited. Then his reflection betrayed my reflection to him and myself at the same time. I probably looked disturbed enough that it prompted him to embrace me from behind and peck my earlobe loudly.

"Try it sometimes. I am not saying we should do it anytime soon, but you might like it."

"I'll…think about it."

'No way in hell.' I thought quietly.

"Look at you blushing."

"Shut up…"

I washed his hair while he washed the rest of his body. And even though I was as sober as I could get in the span of a few hours; I didn't want to run back to his place to get my fix.

Instead, I calmly sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, pretending to watch Tv with my heart, having a full-on concert inside my chest.

'Did it feel that good because he was suffocating me? Or because he jerked me off so hard?'

"Can I eat this piece of lasagna?!" He shouted from the hallway.

"Of course!"

I watched him happily sit next to me from the corner of my eyes, with the lone piece I managed to hold myself back from eating before I got up and headed towards the bathroom in search of any damage he might've left for others to see.

I was astonished when I found that there were no obvious marks on my neck, just like he said. But the bright red spot on my lower lip looked exactly how I thought it would.

'It's like he cut me with his teeth, but why did he do that in the first place? And does he want to go all the way already? I mean we've been doing stuff for years and more recently, we…. but…still…asking about putting fingers in is...'

"Hey, I found a good movie! Come here quick! It's already started."

"In a bit!"

'I am scared. I liked it and didn't like it at the same time. How is that even possible?'

He was paying attention to the movie. I was trying to distract myself with the movie, yet my mind wanted to keep reliving that one blissful orgasmic moment and yet couldn't recreate its chemicals at will.

"Your brother knows how to cook."

"He had to learn. Our parents left him in charge of feeding both of us since when he was…way too young."

"Hmm…why didn't they hire a nanny or something?"

"They did, but we had the genius plan of getting rid of them at all costs."

"What the hell? Nanny's are expensive. I was left all alone for hours!"

"But if the nanny would've quit, our parents would have to come home. And after that, we were getting too old for one, so we just made peace with doing everything by ourselves."

"Hmm...when are they coming back by the way?"

"I don't remember. But it doesn't matter what they say anyway. They can change their mind at the very last minute. When they get here is when they get here."

"Are you mad about it?"

"I am not mad. That's just the truth."

"Alright..."

"No, really. They're just too in love with each other so their children are not...top priority. It's kind of gross."

"And when they do finally get here, do you want me to meet them?"

"Of course."

"If you had already come out to your brother, of course."

"Or you can meet them just as a very good, very close …friend."

The conversation died on our lips for a while, and the circles he was drawing on my hand and the sounds from the Tv were not enough.

'I wonder if Mom's thinking about me...ever…'

"Want to go to my place? I didn't bring any homework like an idiot."

"Sure. But I need to pack some clothes first."

"I thought you already did."

"I said I would, and then I… didn't." I realized as I spoke.

"By the way, what should I expect tomorrow?"

"Fake rumors. Some angry professors. A lot of new homework."

"Did you do yours?"

"No," I admitted with a heavy sigh.

"Want to do some of it together when we get back?"

"Let me copy yours?"

"Why would you do that?" He turned the Tv off when the credits started rolling.

"I will make a ton of mistakes if I smoke and try to do homework at the same time. It's just not worth it."

He glanced my way, yet didn't utter one word until he left the room saying:

"Hurry up and pack."

I made sure to leave the light in the bathroom turned on, just like my mind kept on thinking about what we did. It was consuming the energy of my brain even after we made it to his place with a bag of clothes. And even after I smoked more than I should on purpose. Even after it took me way too long to copy the first half of his homework and after I stole his notebook, so he wouldn't turn the page before I was done. Even after he chased me around the house and tickled me when I had nowhere else to run.

Even after we kissed after I was done kicking and hysterically laughing on the floor.

After we had dinner, cuddled on the porch and watched the sunset.

After he kissed me goodnight with the innocence of a teenager and spooned me from behind with no sexual intent.

'That natural high while, I'd also be chemically high. How good would that feel?'

This had my mind going in a spiral about the label people like me got: an addict. Since most people think of it as an obsession you can't quit, or that addiction is mostly exclusive to a certain substance. Especially when they talked about how that certain substance is addictive, solely due to its innate nature. That always felt like a lie to me. A nice make-believe story that people who look at it from afar love to spread around.

Like a person who had never had a cold, believes that a fever only makes the outside of your skin hot and that your nose never gets stuffed enough that you almost cannot breathe, and that a nostril could never get entirely blocked. But since you keep sneezing and blowing your nose, it's still flowing continuously. No, that's not enough. The fear one would have if one never experienced it would be far greater than those who had it numerous times before.

Like someone who has never felt true hunger that keeps you up at night, the hunger that could make you eat dirt if you could. Like someone who has never known how it's like to have no money or help would think that stealing should be punishable by death. Like someone who has never felt real desperation talking about 'what a hard time, they had', but never had a panic attack or experienced suicidal thoughts.

A lot of people never experienced how many levels of suffering exist. And I was incredibly jealous of the people who only scratched the surface of my sea and never reached its hopeless bottom.

I remembered a friend who used to compare the obsession that I had with a stuffed toy of mine to his addiction to sugar. What he didn't understand was that if I would've lost that toy, I would've felt like someone had died. I couldn't sleep without it and I couldn't stop thinking about where it was or whether someone stole it when I was away from it. I couldn't feel relief until it was safe in my arms. That child could forget about sugar after he had one bite of it. He craved it again, but he didn't crave it every time he inhaled. Nor did he have a breakdown that got him hospitalized when said toy did disappear. Never to be found again.

In my mind, an addict is someone who gets addicted to certain things or emotions. It is almost never just one thing because it is not about the thing itself. It is the person that is the constant. And the intensity and the dependency you have on that particular 'thing' matters more than what it is.

I knew that it wasn't the weed that I was addicted to, but the feeling it got me when I did anything else while experiencing its effects. Sometimes it enhanced my experience, sometimes it made it seem like it was happening while my spirit was floating above my body. It provided me with much-needed oblivion to most things just like having a fever can distract you from many things as well. Willingly feeling sick or out of it was what I was after, but not enough that others would be able to tell at first glance. Also, it was fairly constant, provided I used similar amounts and had a break at the end of the year.

Since I was little, I would get addicted to just one toy, one place in the house, one pair of trousers, one time during one period of the day, one spot in the bed, or one cartoon out of all the others. Later, I'd get hooked on eating the same thing over and over again to the point that it would make me sick just thinking about it. Listening to one song over and over again until moving on to another and forgetting all about that one. Reading the same book, watching the same show, and playing the same game until I knew all the ins and outs.

Anything that gave me pleasure got me hooked on it at some point or another until it became a healthy 'habit' for my addictive brain since it no longer provided any high and instead, just a moderate amount of content. Other sometimes, nothing else.

An addictive personality can get addicted to pretty much anything and the worst moment of my life is when my brain, it's no longer producing enough serotonin and I cannot find anything to latch on to. When I become empty and nothing gives me joy. Nothing makes me smile. Nothing interests me at all. I find that to be worse than being addicted to chocolate, sleep, or weed.

That was what I was actively avoiding. That was the reason why I'd still move even when alone at home. Just so the feeling I had wouldn't keep going on and on until there was nothing left to feel, but the innate emptiness of the human condition. However, I rarely got obsessed with a human being. Or more importantly, with something that only one person could make me feel or provide, in general.

Anyone who could reject me and walk away at any moment made me anxious and out of control. After all, my parents were the ones who taught me not to be addicted to people since they never seemed to be able to give me what I wanted when I wanted it. Instead, it was more like gambling with your sanity as the number one stake. Eating chocolates with a new, surprise flavor every time or participating in a lifetime-long show without reading one review about it first. That, I couldn't stand.

Since a person was not as predictable as candy. Candy that I could possibly buy from the same store at the same time every day for the same amount of money.

And even when I inevitably ran out of money, I knew that at some point or another, I'd have some more. Even if the very piece of candy would be pulled off the market, there would be many others similar in taste or it'd be time to try something entirely new but it would be on my terms one way or another. Since there were enough things, songs, movies, and sweets to choose from. Then it was all alright.

A person is unique. One day with them differs from the other. One conversation about the same subject can't be the same as the other. Not to mention the fact that they can pack up their bags and move to another country any day or get cancer as if they're part of a sick joke that the universe likes to play on both that person and you, who was the fool to get addicted to what that one particular person can make you feel. Be it a warm word or even its very presence.

And one kiss with Namjoon felt different, even if practically, he did the same thing he did an hour ago.

Not only was I scared of being suffocated again, but I also wished he'd do it again, which is why I didn't complain in the first place.

Somehow, he carved his way inside my life and it was this day and that action that made me realize that I might get used to him. That what he does might get me addicted before I realize it.

That maybe, just maybe, it was already too late. That the hand that was on top of my body was something that would destroy me later when it was gone.

'It reminded me of the time I got addicted to my mom's scent and embrace. I was the happiest until she was too far away to smell or touch.'

It was the same mixture of pain and pleasure that left me wishing I would have never allowed myself to love her. By the time I learned that it was too late and I was irrevocably meant to live with a hole in my chest for the rest of my life. A hole she didn't even attempt to fill.

When I ate too much, the shame and the physical discomfort I got from it after receiving the reward of violating my own boundaries, indulging freely, and the sweet release of serotonin made it worth it and not worth it at the same time.

Almost fainting by his hand and orgasming on cloud nine seemed like it was worth it. And also, terrifying.

The problem was…it became easier and easier to tell a dealer that I wanted green, just like it was easier now to tell the store clerk that I wanted ten bags of chocolate puffs without shame. But telling my lover that I wanted him to choke and stroke me into oblivion was new.

New always produced a copious amount of adrenaline and therefore, cortisol mixed with excitement and desire in equal measure of what was probably two in the morning.

My eyes were still wide open two hours after we went to bed and long after Namjoon left this plane of existence and escaped into his own dreamland.

I abhorred the thought that more things and people could make me feel the negative side effects of them, rather than just the positive. I wanted to avoid that at all costs. But I was already here, in his bed. I was already meant to widen the hole my mom had made with his help. I just wished I would've known how he got me hooked without me realizing it.

The warmth that his hand emitted against my skin got it all tingly.'

I wanted to run away and never return. And I wanted at the same time, to be held down and then tied to this very futon after he magically wakes up.

'I want to eat something.' Was the thought that interrupted all fantasies at once and propelled me into a silent and slow escape from Namjoon's bittersweet grip.

To my relief, he didn't wake up even after I slid the door open and closed it behind me with an unexpected thud.

'Why do you only have healthy food in your fridge?!' I screamed to the Namjoon in my mind and opened every single drawer and cupboard until I found what was a huge bag of what appeared to be some expensive candy inside a half-covered pot.

I lied to myself and considered only taking one piece that would be unnoticeable and seemingly untraceable. That transformed into two, then five, and when then my mind told me that now I had to eat equal amounts of everything so that there was an equal number of wafers, coffee chocolates, whiskey-filled candy, peanut butter cups, and white chocolate kisses. I listened.

After hiding the wrappers in my backpack. I scanned the fridge one more time and gave up on all previous standards. I was munching down on raw carrots, tomatoes, boiled eggs and lettuce leaves before the alarm of the fridge went off more than once.

It forced me to stop and think. Which allowed guilt to seep in like venom from a snake's fangs. Which made me decide that drinking some warm milk will help me fall asleep faster.

I waited for it to boil as I massaged the stomach that started complaining again.

'Shit. I feel like I am about to explode. I forgot how much I had for dinner. Wait...what did I have for dinner again?'

One liter of warm milk later, I was in the garden, walking around under the sky that was slowly but surely, less dark than it was when we laid down to sleep.

I watered the potted plants and then ventured into the forest that began at the edge of his backyard. I leaned against a tree and tried to find some peace of mind when the voice of an owl kickstarted my adrenaline like a key ignited a car.

'I ate so much…why am I not sleepy at all?'

I was still pacing around in a small circle when the sun started peeking from the line of the horizon. I had my headphones in and was smoking a joint ten minutes before waking up Namjoon since I sneaked the phone out of our room.

Stumbled in with an upset stomach and red eyes, back into our shared bedroom, and almost fell asleep the second when my head hit the pillow. I turned off all the alarms and resorted to the most efficient way I knew to wake him up: shaking and pinching his arms while calling out his name like a repetitive ghost. I was in a daze. But at the sight of his grave stare when he spotted my tired, cracked eyes, sleep abandoned me once again.

"Why do you look tired?"

"I couldn't fall asleep."

"Hmm…"

The familiar hand reached for my waist. And I winced without meaning to.

"Do you want to stay in?"

"No. We can't keep skipping class!" I said, much too angrily than I wanted to sound.

"Alright…" He pulled me closer and smelled the back of my head with no shame.

'What the…'

"You need to take a shower."

"Well, thank you for letting me know that I smell." I pouted and got reminded of what we did in the bathtub when the word 'shower' fully registered.

"Like weed. You reek of weed."

"Excuse me then…" I bit my lip.

"Let's take a shower together. It will be faster."

"You go first…"

"Come on. If you want to go to class, get up. What time is it, anyway?"

"Seven and something, I think."

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I watched him waiting for me naked under another source of water.

When I stepped in this time, however, he started with what he ended last time.

"Do you like this shampoo?"

"I don't mind…smelling like you."

"Don't be this cute when you're naked."

"Why?" I looked up just in time for the soap to get into my right eye. "Aww."

"Don't rub. You're making it worse."

It was a quick, practical shower. The steam left me dizzier than I was before.

I was hitting my head against the wall while he used the hairdryer. Fighting back my shy erection and a panic attack at the same time by inducing moderate amounts of pain in my skull.

'I am retarded.' I complimented myself over and over again.

We were dressed, perfumed, and ready to go in less than thirty minutes.

The icy morning air hit me differently after the warm water heated my body up, and the closer we got to the gateless school, the more tired and cold I was feeling.

"Why didn't you want to wear that coat we bought?"

"I have two more layers underneath," I argued.

"You will be hot later."

"It'll be fine. Right... We need to split up or someone will see us."

The lake appeared to our left with its unopened lotuses. And the trees swayed and their loud leaves sounded like defective bells as the wind blew and the weak sun did nothing to ease my suffering.

"Let them see us."

"Namjoon…my brother doesn't need to know that I am gay before he's getting married to a woman."

"Did you just finally come to terms with your sexuality?" He asked softly with a smile. Half mocking.

I stopped dead in my tracks with my arms crossed and felt myself blush from my neck to the top of my head. I turned around and walked in the opposite direction of the school for a total of five steps before he grabbed my backpack and prevented me from moving an inch.

"Sorry. Bad joke." He muttered.

"Even if I am or if I only like…you. He still shouldn't find out from someone else."

"And when are you going to tell him?"

I refused to look at him when the thought 'never' was the only answer my mind offered me.

"Hey. Kim Namjoon! You're alive and well!" The high-pitched voice of one of our classmates scratched my ears. He was getting near with two more classmates at his side. I felt the pressure that had been applied to my backpack, disappear.

"Are you guys fighting?" Another one asked.

"No. I was trying to stop him from skipping school." Namjoon lied with an indifferent shrug.

"Didn't see you there, narcolepsy. You don't have to go home. You can sleep in class as always if you f…"

I knew something must've happened for our classmate to stop talking without me even as much as glancing his way, but I didn't bother turning around to check if Namjoon had already punched the guy.

When the other calmly talked, I reminded myself that he had to keep up appearances so he wouldn't get expelled.

"You two friends?"

"Not really." I quickly let them know and continued walking in the opposite direction.

This time, Namjoon couldn't stop me.

"Where is he going?"

"Why did you skip class for so long?"

They asked Namjoon.

"I was very.... sick." He replied in a deadpan tone.

That was the last I heard before collapsing by a thick tree trunk, not very far away; hugging myself with heavy eyelids. I gave in fast.

Sleep was finally offering its sweet embrace while my body started freezing when the voice of a teacher had me standing up straight, electrocuted by its offended tone:

"Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing here?! Are you trying to be late on purpose?!"

"I…no…"

"Do you think skipping class is alright even if your parents aren't here to check up on you? I have their numbers and I will not hesitate to let them know that you are sleeping on your way to school instead of attending it."

"No…I am sorry. I was about to go in. I was simply…"

"Ahem. Do you think I don't know that you sleep during classes all the time? Only I know how many times I caught you sleeping during my class! What is it that you do all night? Playing games? Because it can't be studying."

My vision was covered with a thin, nearly invisible fog-like substance and the chilly air made every color of every flower, bush and tree seem colder and her voice was getting further and further away. It was the background to my high exhaustion as the school got bigger and taller the more we walked. The inside of the school itself seemed to be coated in blue and grey, cold light, and when all I saw was her back getting smaller and smaller. I felt myself feeling lonely in the middle of the empty hallway.

"Narcolepsy has returned." That was the only sentence regarding my presence when I stepped inside our class and then proceeded to sit in my usual spot.

No one bothered me for the following hours, but I could feel Namjoon's gaze burning the back of my neck every once in a while.

The boredom combined with the exhaustion has fought a fair battle and one has finally won during history.

"Jeon Jungkook! Young man! You are in class! Not in your bed." There was no hint of amusement in his voice, yet the others laughed. "Even if your exam results are satisfactory, that doesn't mean you can disrespect me in this way."

The girl sitting behind me, shook my chair until I caught every single laugh and mumbling from the teacher.

I straightened up and tried to look as apologetic as possible.

"I am sorry, it won't happen again."

He sighed and told me to sit down.

"Narcolepsy had another long night." I heard someone whisper but ignored it. What I couldn't ignore, however, was the piece of crumpled paper that was on my desk.

Because I was certain that it didn't belong to me.

I grabbed it without hesitation only to discover that it contained a message written in unfamiliar handwriting: 'Come to the chemistry lab after literature.'

I looked around, but everyone was either looking at the teacher, taking notes, or reading from the manual. No one was letting me know in any particular way that they were the ones who threw it. I peeked at Namjoon and realized that he didn't have a single pen on his desk and that he was actively reading a novel. He didn't even react after I purposely stared at him for at least one minute.

'This is not his handwriting. This is too small…Besides, he wouldn't risk someone seeing he passed a note to me. So, who is it? And what the hell does this person want?'

A few sneaky glances later and I finally locked eyes with the guy who made me trip and hit my left cheek on the edge of a chair on purpose, at the end of first grade. I never found out the reason why I had to have a permanent scar for the rest of my life, even so, Min Yoongi has never apologized for it.