An Old Flame With a New Wick

AN:Hi, just letting you know that (Anything between brackets is sounds from the Tv, at least in this chapter.)

I liked writing this chapter, hope you enjoy reading it:

Finally, the smoke cleared and the mirrors broke. What Jungkook meant when he told me that the way he managed to pass his exams was to let despair and adrenaline become his fuel involved several steps he either left out on purpose.

Or otherwise, he was sorely mistaken that it was the withdrawals alone that kept him awake and buzzing whilst caffeine-free for days.

And I've been too blind, enchanted by my own rose-colored glasses.

This man was an addict just like my mom was, and if it's anything she made strikingly obvious during my childhood was that there's nothing harder in this world than getting clean and staying clean.

Sure, you might not engage in your usual favorite poison.

But you might replace it either way.

Pills, cleaning, eating, exercising, and pretty much anything that can be done without thinking do the same thing that a hard drug can.

The heaven that is not facing your reality, emotions, or yourself. After all, at the bottom of them all, it's all escapism.

And now he was running wild.

The way he'd complain about being dirty after working a part-time job at the store and avoiding to come anywhere near more than once had me stealing an alcohol-stained kiss. I pretended not to notice.

Never mentioned the sleeping pills and neither did he. Even though a mild case of insomnia did show its ugly head after I threw them away. Soon, I spotted melatonin pills in under a book by mistake and put it back the very next second.

The way he'd watch Tv for hours and not even laugh once, I ignored it.

The way he'd tremble when I'd touch him. The conversations got shorter and shorter.

It was all obvious and yet subtle enough. Like lighting all across the dark sky, but not one whisper from the thunder.

However, I could tell that he was getting tired of running on faulty fuel.

By the time he went jogging at six AM on a Monday, I was bracing myself.

The substitutes were no longer working, so he'd either break open or cave.

The only thing I made sure of was that nor Fred, nor any of his people wouldn't as much as murmur anything to do with a plant.

But since he had now changed his sleeping position at least fifteen times, I was doubting that he was going to accept the situation, rather than fight it with all he had left.

I was a silent supporter. That's the decision I alone succumbed to.

And I had done my best to keep him studying for as long as possible. Didn't judge the moments he'd forget the words he learned and repeated out loud minutes ago.

No. I would blame the drug and not Jungkook. Since I knew the real Jungkook, the one that was good at everything he did on his first try. That…part of him that was either buried deep inside his subconscious or dead, along with a lot of neuropathways.

Meanwhile. this role I forced myself into started to feel unbearably lonely.

Hence, when I reached out for him, under the sheets, all I received was a stiff body and his heartbeat, louder than before.

"Can't sleep?" I asked.

"I think I should make jogging my new hobby." He told me as if he had been thinking about this for a while now, and yet, his very tone betrayed despair. "Didn't you say you wanted to join a gym a while ago?"

I cleared my throat and admitted: "I lied."

"Let's go together."

I pulled him closer to my chest and hugged him from behind before I whispered, trying not to sound too defeated: "Alright."

Days passed by, one painful gym hour occurred, but his condition seemed to get worse instead.

The phone kept ringing at the weirdest of times and yet, Jungkook refused to answer or to let me as much as glance at the name of the caller. Now, of all times, I wanted to respect his privacy, so I checked the missed calls list when he was asleep after he successfully cleaned every surface of the house for the second time in three days.

'Why won't he answer his own mother?'

When his brother called and begged to make a plan which would make Jungkook go home, I panicked a little bit.

No. I felt like I had done something wrong without knowing.

And I was right.

The faces of the junkies I usually provided for, now made my throat burn. Their genuine smiles made my chest ache.

Followed by the pale, unresponsive face of Jungkook I saw when I entered the house, even after deciding that I'll somehow convince him to go home without fighting, left me speechless.

He had brought the Tv by the living room table again and he was spending more time with it than anything else. It was his only friend and a loyal new mistress.

I was considering breaking it in some way or another if only I could figure out how to get inside it without leaving any evidence.

And the books that had been on the table, wide open in front of it for days on end, couldn't fool me.

But I also couldn't let all prior effort go to waste. So, I clenched and unclenched my fist, breathed deep, and calmly asked if he wanted to eat soup or chicken.

He didn't even look at me when he replied.

If I knew there was one thing I shouldn't, under any circumstance do, thanks to my dear mother, was not to not make an addict that is still at the mercy of withdrawals, dopamine wise more than anything else, feel strongly about anything.

'Don't make her angry, don't make her cry, don't make her worry, don't make her anything…' That was my mantra as a child.

I didn't think that I'd had to use it as an adult.

"Did you talk to Kwan?"

"Yeah. I helped her study yesterday at the club again. In fact, she had asked about you."

"You're helping both of us study…maybe you should become a teacher."

I burst out laughing at the idea whilst grabbing a carrot and a knife with wet hands.

"She wanted to know why you've been missing for the last two weeks."

"And what did you say?"

I sighed out: "I lied."

"Of course, you've lied. But what was the lie?"

"That I don't know."

"Really?" He sounded slightly irritated. But it was still drowned in a monochrome sea of depression.

"What did you want me to say?"

"I don't know…that…" He thought and when he couldn't find one, he simply repeated himself, but a bit more quietly: "I don't know."

"Case and point."

I heard him sigh loudly, right before turning a page.

"Did you hear from your brother lately?" The casual tone was not enough to prevent those eyes from burning the back of my head.

The people from the soap opera were laughing when we went silent.

"A bit."

"What did he say?"

"He wants me to go home."

'Gold, I struck gold right now.'

I thanked the heavens whilst chopping the carrots and onions.

"And?"

"And what?"

"You're going home?"

"No. I'm not."

The fake audience of the soap opera went: "Aww." Yet I couldn't find anything adorable about our situation.

'Some ghost's watching us right now and it's laughing its ass off.' I thought.

"Why not?" I asked at the same time seconds after I made a clear cut through the middle finger.

"I don't want to. Do you want me to?"

"Not really. But it isn't like your brother can't find out where I live."

'V might've already told him.'

"So what? He'll come here and drag me against my will?" Another page turned, this time, with more sound.

"No. But he can blame me for you not going home and that might…strain our relationship in the future."

Some book or notebook was shut violently as drops of blood tainted the perfectly white onion.

"It won't! And it doesn't matter either way, does it? You're with me. What happens between me and my brother has nothing to do with…where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

"Why? Oh, you're bleeding…"

"It's just a cut." I smiled, reassuringly.

But Jungkook got up as if burned, pent up, and worried, glaring at it as if there would be something more than a cut and the red substance oozing out of it.

"Where are the bandages?"

"In the pill cabinet, over there…" I pointed with my head.

He walked fast as if this little wound was some kind of emergency.

There wasn't any left. I remembered that the second he's reached it. But watching him look for it with fervor had me smiling, a real smile. He couldn't see it, but it was there.

"Are you sure? Or did you change their place? There's nothing in here!" He kept moving things around saying, "I'm telling you. There's not even rubbing alcohol or oxygenated water, nothing. Maybe it's in the kitchen." Turned around quickly, yet I managed to put on my best poker face just in time. Before the smaller boy could pass me by, I used the nonbleeding hand and grabbed him.

"What?" He was puzzled, eyeing the cut like that'd make the blood keep still. "It's probably in the kitchen or…"

"It's not there. We're out."

"Alright, but…Namjoon you're really bleeding a lot. Put some pressure on it."

"No."

"What? Then let me, what are you do…"

"Put it in your mouth."

If anyone would've asked about the sexual activity in the last three weeks, I couldn't answer with a straight face and say I haven't stolen a glance, a feel, or a kiss, but nothing more than that had happened.

I was waiting, but the sound of some commercial was the only thing I was hearing.

Round dark brown eyes were wide and body immobile.

And then, his phone started ringing from the safety of the black backpack from the corner, right by a stack of books both he and I were fully aware he'll never finish reading until the last week.

I brought the bloody finger up to his closed lips. He looked at it. The phone kept ringing.

"You want to get that?" I asked, whispering.

I knew very well that he would've rather sucked my finger than do that, which is why I was sure his lips would part like the red sea.

And they did.

He didn't suck on it, nor moved his tongue at all. He just held it in his mouth as if he wanted to warm it up.

The Tv seemed to be haunted, but it wasn't distracting enough.

(There is nothing better than the new Lion chocolate bar, it melts in your…)

"Suck it," I demanded.

I closed the distance between us.

Irises looked up and then down at it as if it was something phallic.

The phone stopped ringing.

The soft cushion that was his tongue and the warm walls of my favorite mouth closed.

I was about to move the finger when the phone started ringing again and his eyes wandered towards it with a bit of fear present.

I used my other hand to touch the back of his head in case he'd let it slip out when I moved it in and out. Regaining all focus.

However, his stare was not judgment-free.

I watched that finger go in and out and he watched me watch it a bit more flustered than before.

(Feel more beautiful with Dove, the soap your skin trusts. The soft particles and…)

His breathing intensified when the fingertip reached the back of his throat with one swift thrust.

Licked my lips and tightened the grip on his now, far too long hair. Pulling a bit on it while I kept swirling blood around his rosy mouth and then forced a second finger in.

He was surprised by this.

Caught his tongue between these two fingers and pulled it out just so I could catch it between my lips and suck on it whilst trapped in my mouth.

"Mm…" He breathed out when I wrapped my arms around his waist.

And then, as our saliva and my blood mixed, hands traveled to grope his ass as his fingers closed behind my neck. The third call made me hesitate just a bit before sliding one hand under the loose grey sweatpants.

(Coming up, Two and a Half men…)

"Nam…" He tried as soon as our lips were disconnected.

"What?" I growled against his chin whilst licking the sensitive skin from under it.

"We can't." He dared say when my hand was fondling with his asshole.

"Just a bit."

One finger in.

"Noh." One word full of air was the only incentive when he almost collapsed against my chest from just this little touching.

'The absence does make the heart grow fonder indeed.'

The phone has gone quiet, the show started with the song that I've grown to know only because of Jungkook.

"Why not?" I humored him whilst full-on fingering him, my own hard-on pressing against his clothed stomach.

"I've…mgotm…to… go home."

My finger would've stopped unless my whole body wasn't already drowning in hormones and heat.

"Now…now you want to go home?" The bitterness seeped through every word despite the ironic smirk.

The second finger was in. And the spot I was searching for was pressed. I knew that since he was literally climbing on me in order to keep himself standing. His erection pressed against my leg.

"I don't, but…"

"Then don't." I cut him off. All common sense, lost.

I even rubbed against his front to prove my point.

And between soft moans and bittersweet friction, whilst his hair tickled my nose, the fourth phone call made my blood boil.

'Fuck it, I just have to take him to the bedroom and then…'

"My mom…"

My fingers stopped at the same time with my tongue. He continued: "And my dad. I think they just got home."

The laugh track from the tv suddenly became quieter than the ringing, even though no one had messed with the volume of either.

Twisted my neck to look at the backpack with an emotion I couldn't quite identify.

'What's it like to have parents?' That is what I wanted to ask; fingers still buried in his ass.

Due to the lack of movement, he managed to tear himself away from me and walk towards the backpack as if it was nothing.

I was still in the same spot when he answered it, fingers still dripping red on the wooden floor.

"Yeah?... Sorry…it was on silent."

'Liar.'

("I had to carry him to bed three nights in a row."

"I was perfectly happy sleeping under the deck."

"You bring her home; you clean up after."

"Thank God you never get any.")

"Soon. How soon? Well, Namjoon just made soup for me and…oh. Do they want to?... Tomorrow? Right now?.... Why?... What do you mean?!... Just, friends."

'That can't be good.'

("This girl? This girl's something different."

"How so?"

"Well, did you ever go out with somebody who's not only great in bed, but also like a really cool friend?"

"Yeah. Once."

"In fact, now that I think about it, the friendship was the best part of our relationship."

"No kidding?"

"Yeah. The sex was a little weird.")

'My mom must be laughing hysterically from hell right about now.'

He pointed at the Tv frantically, begging me to turn it off.

I watched him, dead behind the eyes, and then looked around for the remote as I listened to the show and him at the same time.

"No. He eats pretty much anything…No. He doesn't drink…"

'To hell I don't.'

("It's me."

"Me who?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Jill?"

"Bill."

"No."

"We're gonna need two shots of tequila.")

'Preach.' I told the actors in my head right before successfully turning it off.

"He'll need to shower first. He just got home from…ah, work…What does he do? He…a…" Jungkook glared at me for some kind of help, I simply reached out towards the bulge of his pants and grabbed. He immediately slightly slapped the hand away, but otherwise, stayed in place. As if the mobile phone had a wire attached to the wall.

Though there were just two steps until the table, one at the left until the wall and the backpack against just a patch of wall, next to the closed back door. I was at his right, half hugging him, half trying to get the sweatpants off without a loud reaction that'll startle his brother who I could now hear much better from both the close proximity and the quietness of the house.

"Delivery?" He asked as if his brother was supposed to know, but it must've been my fault since my hand made contact with the now half-hard cock at the exact moment the questioning tone happened.

"No... No…I wasn't asking. I was reading something and got distracted."

'Dirty, little…liar.'

I pressed him against the wall from behind.

"Mhm…Studying daily."

The musky scent of his hair had me pulling down the pants just enough to reveal his ass whilst I was jerking him slowly but surely back to full hardness.

"Going…ah…great. Yeah. How about I call you when we're on our way?" He quickly added the last part.

'Shit. Now I have to meet his parents.'

I bit the nape of his neck softly.

"Aww…" He let out without thinking.

From where I stood, I could perfectly hear his brother asking: "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…I hurt my knee…so clumsy sometimes." That lie was followed by a nervous chuckle. "I'll call you a bit later, alright? Though it'll take a while to get ready, I still need to finish this…exercise and Namjoon has to shower and I might shower as well…"

I pulled on his balls, losing patience. He bit his lip.

I heard his brother chuckling: "You already told me this. Just don't bring up anything …bad. They're in a good mood and they're here, for us. So, get here soon."

"Fine. I will. Bye."

"Bye."

Jungkook closed the call and then looked at the screen as if to make sure he really did end it before yelling:

"What the hell's wrong with you?!"

"Shut up," I said right in his ear with a voice that didn't allow complaints.

"We're going together. You'll meet me…"

"I heard."

I pulled down the front of the pants too just so I could make his naked cock rub against the bare wall whilst I fingered his ass and lowered my own pants.

"They think you're only a…"

"I know."

"I can't tell them that…"

"I know."

I spit on his hole from above and placed my erection between his thighs after forcing them shut.

"We…shower…ah…"

I fucked his thighs whilst trying to match the rhythm with the three fingers I forced in.

It wasn't long until I saw his hand reaching for his cock that made me change positions entirely.

"Augh." Was the surprised sound he made when his whole front hit the wall, whilst I held his hands' hostage behind his back. Making sure that he was getting rubbed the right way against the wall while I continued to go in and out. Unsatisfied, horny, and strangely, quite angry.

"We don't have time…" He whimpered and struggled against my hold.

I kept going until he was purposely rubbing his cock against the wall up and down, moaning a moan he had never used before.

'I want to do him so bad…'

No. I wanted to slap his ass and squeeze his neck.

I felt all the rage I held back for the past three weeks leaking out of me like the precum that was leaking out of him.

Despite the way he was getting jerked off, he still orgasmed, minutes later, all over the wall. Meanwhile, I was glaring at the back of his head thinking: 'Why the fuck's everything so complicated with you?! Why the hell can't we just forget about the exams for one god damn minute and relax?! And now, your parents? Are you kidding me?! I am the last person your parents should ever meet! Friend or boyfriend. I am bad news either way. You didn't even ask me! I was right next to you. And why does being sober make you untouchable? Are you that repulsed by me when you're sober? What the Fuck do You want from Me?!'

"Namjoon?"

"Hm?"

"You won't cum anytime so…"

This had me grabbing his hair and forcing him to go down. At first, I thought I was going to just make him suck me until he cried, but because he was facing away, I found myself smashing his face against the wall and bringing it lower and lower until his cheek made contact with his own cum.

"Lick it."

His pupils tried to see my face, but they were unable to.

"Lick it and I'll go shower."

"But that...it's a bit…"

"Now, Jungkook. Or I swear to God…"

'What?' I asked myself. 'Or I'll what? I can't bring myself to hurt him more than this.'

And yet, watching him lick his own cum off the wall with wet eyes didn't soothe my anger. Nor kill my mood. It was making me so hard that it hurt.

"All of it." I heard myself order.

"…are you angry? Did I…"

"All."

Despite my harsh tone, I didn't make sure he had licked every drop. I let go of his head before that happened and avoided his eyes when he turned around.

"I'll be ready in ten." That was all I said before disappearing inside the bathroom.

'He must think I feel guilty.' That was what I realized whilst under cold, freezing water.

'But I left only because I didn't trust myself to hold back.'

When I finally killed any sign that my mind kept replaying the scene of him licking his semen over and over again with images of my mom throwing beer bottles after me when I was six. I got out with a towel around my waist and put on the best expressionless face I could muster.

There was no one in the living room, hallway, or kitchen. Since there was no wall between any, my mind immediately attacked with its best guess: 'He left me.'

"Namjoon! Can I borrow your blue shirt?" Jungkook screamed from the bedroom. I exhaled air I didn't realize I was holding.

"Sure," I yelled back, looking at the wet spots on the wall.

I walked in on him only wearing jeans in front of the open dresser, holding the blue shirt against his chest to check if it wasn't too long.

I gave his cheek a quick peck before I grabbed a white shirt and some black pants, just like I would if I went to a funeral.

And as I turned around, I noticed the shaking hands, but couldn't find it in me to bring it up.

We were dressed up, groomed, and perfumed in less than ten minutes.

"Should I take my backpack?"

"Leave it."

"Why?"

"You'll have an excuse to come to my place even if they hate me."

"They won't hate you."

"For my own sanity. Say you forgot it. Just take your phone."

"Okay…"

His place was just streets away which for the first time, didn't feel convenient.

"When was the last time you saw your parents?" I asked though I could've guessed the answer since he seemed to be more nervous than I was.

"Well, I don't know. A few months. Almost a year? Maybe. I don't remember…"

"They don't visit often?"

"Not really."

The sounds of the cars passing by seemed so far away.

"Did you miss them?"

"That's a stupid question," Jungkook replied, a bit too fast.

I clenched my jaw and nodded.

We spent the rest of the way in utter silence and only after a cheery female voice answered by saying something intelligible, did I try to break the ice again:

"Is there something I shouldn't mention? Like a taboo subject? Or…"

"I know." He cut me off, looking into my eyes to say: "Don't tell them how you just had made their son jerk off to a wall and then clean it with his tongue."

My lips parted, his lips stretched in a joyless smile that faded as soon as he pushed the gate open and stepped aside, waiting for me to get in.

I did. Hands in pockets. Newfound warmth was spreading from my belly to my throat.

The elevator ride seemed to last longer than I remembered and the quietness was no longer as awkwardly comfortable as before.

'Well, in one fell swoop, I've gone and done exactly what I tried not to do for weeks. Great.'

When the automatic doors closed, I took his hand in mine and said, against my better judgment: "I thought it was hot."

"…it felt more like a punishment to me."

"For what?" I asked a bit too quietly, massaging his fingers.

"You tell me."

'I won't.' I thought.

"What if I told you that I like to make you do these kinds of things…that they turn me on?" I said.

He half-smiled. My chest felt a bit lighter.

"I'd say you're sick."

I stepped the one step between us and with his hand to my chest, mumbled:

"You don't want to be sick with me?"

"I thought I already was."

"Yeah…" I smiled back.

The elevator doors opened.

"Sorry…" I whispered, but I was ninety percent sure that he didn't hear me.

Before the brown-haired boy found it in himself to knock on his own door, he turned around, fist still in mid-air:

"If it's just one of your…" He looked down and whispered "Kinks. Then fine. But are you sure that wasn't a punishment for something?"

"One hundred percent sure."

He nodded and knocked.

"That means you're fine with doing stuff like that again?" I inquired, close to his ear, just seconds before a woman that was shorter than he was, appeared before us, hair is just a bit lighter than her sons, barely surpassing her shoulders and full bangs.

'He has a sister too?'

"Hi, mom."

'You're kidding right?'

The older woman covered her mouth before she spread her arms to receive an embrace from the son she hadn't seen in months.

They stood embraced by the door and I stood, unable to say a word or move. Watching an expression on Jungkook's face that I've never seen before. Not even when he was a child.

'That's what it's like to have parents, huh.'

"You must be Namjoon."

I awkwardly stretched my hand whilst in the back of my mind, I could hear a voice screaming: 'I've been helping your son get high for years.'

She took it and then embraced me just like she did with Jungkook, but for a shorter amount of time.

'You are way more comfortable with physical affection than your son is.' That is what I wanted to say.

"Thank you for receiving me…" That is what I actually said.

"Don't be silly. The pleasure is all mine. I heard so much about you, it's like I already know you."

'From who?'

I reciprocated her smile until a man who looked so identical to Jungkook but in an older, more masculine version emerged from the bathroom with his arms open way before he was anywhere near his son.

A second embrace proceeded but this time, I only got a firm arm shake and a shoulder squeeze.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jeon."

"Come sit down and have a glass of wine."

"Dad, I told you he doesn't drink."

"One won't hurt."

I accepted the glass smiling whilst thinking: 'I want to take the virginity of your son. In fact, I would've by now, but you raised him so well. Man, he does seem absolutely terrified of it. We've even set a date for it like it's doomsday.'

I took a sip.

"Do you like it?"

'What?' I choked.

"White wine. My wife prefers the red one, but I think it has this note that doesn't go well with food. The white one on the other hand…"

He went on about the different types and flavors, as I nodded and smiled when appropriately. All the while leaving one ear attentive to what Jungkook and his mother were talking about:

"Where's Jung?"

"At the store. The fridge was almost empty. I swear, it's like you two don't even live here?! Aren't you boys using the money for groceries?"

"…Of course we are. You just came at a…in between grocery shopping moment."

"But I told Jung we'll arrive today. I know he spends a lot of time with his girlfriend but you could've at least stacked up so I wouldn't have to worry."

"Mom, we eat."

"You don't look like it."

"Trust me, I do."

"Why don't you answer when I call?" I could tell she tried to look unaffected, but her eyes couldn't lie.

Jungkook's lips were one straight line.

And that's when I realized that his dad was waiting for me to take sides in his ongoing debate:

"Rose."

"Really?" Mr. Jeon chuckled.

"Yeah. I like red and white too, but rose's the best of both worlds."

"Honey! He'd rather have rose."

She chuckled like a teenager before exclaiming with contained haste: "I'll call Jung and tell him to get one. Do you have one that you like in particular? Sweet? Or rather…"

"No. Mrs. Jeon, please, you don't need to bother. I can drink any wine. In fact, this should be my last glass anyway. I was only answering a question…"

"Nonsense. You must have some with this fish we bought today, it's to die for. Honey, where's my phone?"

"In your purse."

"And where's my purse?"

They both looked around for it whilst giggling and touching each other's shoulders as they've only just started dating a week ago.

I could not believe what my eyes were currently witnessing.

And Jungkook didn't seem like he could either.

He seemed almost…sad.

Jung arrived before his mother got to call him.

"Jungkook, can you let your brother in? I already forgot what button I had to press and I need to start cooking the…"

"I'll do it." A soulless tone accompanied his words.

I, on the other hand, was left alone in the hallway, with my shoes still on, watching a Jungkook crawl-walk to the device whilst his parents talked among themselves by the stove.

"Namjoon, are you good at peeling potatoes?" The man asked, holding a knife.

"Good enough."

I took the knife and sat down in front of one empty red container and a bowl of small potatoes, resisting a sigh.

"I know what this place needs honey, some music."

"I told you, the only stereo is in Jung's room. He said he'll turn it on when he gets here."

"Speaking of the devil." She snickered and turned the fish on the other side before covering the grill and walking to the two brothers that we were talking a bit too quietly.

But I still heard the mom saying: "Jung, you need to go back. Namjoon likes rose wine. Rose!"

The older brother sighed the sigh I didn't dare release.

"I'll go. I still have my shoes on. Besides, you guys need to fight over the playlist for the next ten minutes. Don't you?" Jungkook's voice was the lowest of them all, but I still got every word.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yeah. No problem."

"Do you want me to go with you?" I offered and only after two seconds, did I realize that I probably sounded too desperate to escape, so I added: "There are some things I needed to buy today, but I forgot. And it'll probably be closed by the time I leave."

"Be honest." Jungkook's dad stated, seriously. I swallowed. "You just don't want to peel the potatoes."

I blinked a few times before waving my hands.

"No! No…They're mine. In fact, I don't want anyone to touch them until I get back."

They chuckled, I forced the corners of my mouth up.

Jung was taking off his shoes and Jungkook was staring at the wall.

"Go. Go. But don't take too long. I'll do the steaks while you two are gone."

"Mom? Steak too? There's no way we can eat that much." Jungkook complained in an almost uncharacteristic high-pitched voice.

I abandoned the knife and stepped towards the exit with small, calculated steps.

"Just look at you. All flesh and bones. Ladies must be so jealous of you."

"Mom…"

"Namjoon." Mrs. Jeon suddenly faced me with a serious expression. "What does my son usually eat?"

"A lot of chocolate." I let out without thinking.

Jungkook didn't seem pleased with my answer.

"Just like when he was a child."

"Honey. You too, eat a lot of sugar." Mr. Jeon pointed out.

"It's my fault. I passed the sweet tooth curse to him." She covered her mouth. The husband imitated her; she went to playfully hit him. And Jungkook took this as a cue to leave.

"We're going!"

"The money?"

"Yeah, it's in my pocket."

The door was opened and then shut.

A mutual deep inhale and exhale happened as soon as we were out.

And then, a shy laugh started from Jungkook and continued with me.

I was rubbing the back of his neck in the elevator, still smiling: "When you've told me that your parents loved each other…"

"I wasn't exaggerating."

"It's cute."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"Phish. It's embarrassing." He let out.

My hand was off him the moment the doors opened.

"What do you have to get from the store by the way?" He innocently asked.

"Nothing."

He stopped walking.

"What?"

"I wanted to go with you."

He rolled his eyes but didn't seem really bothered by it.

"You still have to buy something even if you don't need it."

An old lady entered the building just in time to hear me say:

"I know. How about lube?"

I couldn't control my facial expression, so I simply grinned all the way out.

"Well. There goes our spotless reputation."

"Really? That lady will be writing about it on the elevator's door? She'll send a mass text to her bridge buddies or what?"

"I was just saying." He chuckled, despite my serious face.

We went to the closest store. Since I didn't know my way around, I simply followed Jungkook. I couldn't help but notice that the people who shopped at this market were dressed much more formally than the one we usually went to.

"Sweet, dry, or…"

"I don't care. All alcohol tastes like poison in the end."

"Then why did you say you liked rose, especially?"

"Your dad wanted me to pick sides, so I picked Switzerland."

"Ahh. He does that sometimes."

"It's his thing?"

"Not really. But he likes to win against mom when it comes to nonsensical imagined arguments."

"So it is…do they fight?"

"Never. It's just a harmless game. For fun."

"Hmm… Let's get the sweet one then."

"Why?"

"You and your mom like it."

Not blinking, he glared at me without saying a word for a few seconds before nodding to himself and putting a much too expensive wine in the cart.

"What else?" I asked, whilst staring at the whitest strawberries I've ever seen.

'Are these mutated? Bleached?'

"Lube." I blurted out without thinking.

"Why do you keep saying…that?"

"You wouldn't understand," I replied in a dramatic tone.

He dismissed it with his hand.

"Something you need."

"I don't need anything, remember?"

"Still. Things you can never have enough of. Like trash bags? Toilet paper?"

We somehow passed the fruit aisle and ended up in the cleaning one.

"I'm not going back to your parents with toilet paper."

"Why? They shit too."

"Jungkook…"

"Fine. What then?"

I spotted something that seemed acceptable enough.

"Air fresheners?"

"They'll think you're a smoker."

"I might just like a minty fresh room. What of it?"

"Nana died of lung cancer. Don't open that can of worms."

'Then what about you?' I thought quietly as if I did any louder, he would've heard.

I bit my lips, flayed my arms, and turned corner after corner, with him on my tail.

Numerous brands I've never seen peeked at me from the unusually clean shelves.

'It's only a few streets from my house, yet…'

"Cleaning stuff for floors or counters? Hmm…you actually need some. And wet wipes. Some bottles of water. I drank the last one and the tap one from your place tastes like actual…"

"You're going to actually do the shopping I needed to do, right now?"

"Band-aids." He pointed at me and disappeared like a man with a mission.

I looked down at the closed cut and remembered his face mushed against the wall like it was a photograph I'd actually taken with a camera.

A little child dropped her toy a few steps away from me, so I picked it up and gave it to her. She thanked me and walked away in a sparkly tiny dress.

'Huh.'

On the way back, I tried to hold back this thought that was bugging me. Nonetheless, I couldn't convince myself to let it poison my brain whilst his parents were going to probably touch each other from under the table while we ate in the next hour or so. Another reason that had me blurting out: "So, your peeps got some money, don't they?"

"What do you mean?"

"Give me the bag, they're supposed to be my groceries."

He ignored me.

"We're not richy rich if that's what you mean."

"And what's that?"

"The spoiled, I must wear only high-end brand clothes and wipe with feathers only, that type of rich."

"But you could, if you wanted to."

"Hey. No. I couldn't. They're doing well, I am not going to say they don't but it's not like that. And I'd give anything if my parents traveled less for that money and even if they…fought once in a while."

"Then why do you work?"

"How do you expect me to deduct that kind of money every month without a valid reason? I can't tell them the…truth."

I stole the bag from his hands and walked ahead all the way back.

When we were in the safety of the elevator. I let out something that I regretted more than the kink I exposed earlier today:

"You don't let them spoil you well. There's nothing wrong with that. Be spoiled. And be glad they love each other. That's rare. Some of us don't even have parents. Some of us never saw our parents hugging. So, take their love while they're alive… you fucking moron."

I exited the elevator as soon as it opened and knocked on the door before Jungkook arrived at the door.

"Did you find what you needed?" His mom asked.

"Yeah. Everything."

"I'm glad."

I took off my shoes and left the bag by the door, wine in hand. Jungkook got in a bit too late. But his mom probably didn't notice.

"Where's Mr. Jeon?" I asked.

"In Jung's room. He's adding his favorite songs to the playlist. They just couldn't reach a consensus."

"Oh, nice. I'll finish the potatoes then."

Sat down and started peeling like a robot.

Jungkook walked by his mother's side almost without making a sound, which is why she exclaimed:

"Oh, my god! You scared me. What are you, a cat?"

She continued to cut some vegetables and my heart almost burst when Jungkook hugged his mom from the side and told her something quietly.

I could see her smiling big, with warmth.

I couldn't see Jungkook's face from where I was sitting, but I supposed, he was smiling as well.

'Am I the one who's going to ruin their son? This…peace they have going on?' These questions and more alike popped up like telepathic messages sent to bring me pain.

It must've been that or the sudden Metallica concert which started from the other room that helped me cut a finger for the second time that day.

"Honey! We're going to eat! Not…Honey, do you hear me?! The neighbors here are…" And she was gone.

Jungkook turned around to look at me with wet eyes. I was somehow sure that it was my fault this time today as it had been earlier that day. And I could tell exactly when he spotted my bleeding finger.

He didn't freak out like last time. And despite the fact that we bought bandages not too long ago, he still went in front of the counter, picked up my hand, and shoved the finger in his mouth.

I was speechless.

But as soon as the electric guitars down and got replaced by something that I associated with dinner jazz, I pulled my finger out his mouth, and yet, we kept staring at each other as if in a trance.

"Only do that when we're alone." I drily commented, a bit taken aback.

He nodded.

And the bedroom door flew open. The rest of the family joined us in the kitchen.

The meat was placed on plates, wine glasses got filled and bad jokes happened. My finger not only got bandaged but also disinfected by a woman I've met for the first time in my life.

And the couple danced to tango right before we dug in and ate way too much.

To my surprise, they didn't touch very much whilst eating, but Jungkook's mom did feed her husband ice cream after one too many drinks. There were a lot of questions about their day-to-day lives that I assumed they should've already known. But they were mostly directed to Jungkook, so I assumed they mainly conversed with Jung. And when they talked about sleeping arrangements, I heard something that I didn't expect:

"We already got a hotel room. You two know when don't like to impose."

"Just be honest. You don't want to share a bed." Jung blurted out, still scooping the ice cream.

"You know me so well." She boasted and touched her chest as if she was flattered.

'They don't want to share a bed with their sons? Wait. Why does this house not have a room for them in the first place?'

I sipped from the almost empty glass of my rose wine and tried not to look surprised.

"We'll be here before you boys even wake up. I'll make your favorite pancakes, my Kookie." She pinched his cheeks with a glint in her eyes.

"Mom…it hurts."

"What's in them?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Diabetes," Jung answered drily and then fake coughed.

I chuckled; a bit dizzy from the wine.

"I'll make some for you too, after all, you're sleeping over, aren't you?"

'They won't do it, but they want me to?'

I glanced at Jungkook, but his detached stare didn't help at all.

"Of course."

'That's the polite thing to do, right? Even though my house is probably closer than their hotel…'

"Wonderful. We'll see you all in the morning."

"Don't drink all the wine while we're gone." Mr. Jeon joked and downed the rest of his glass.

'They're not alcoholics, right?'

"Honey. I know we're on vacation, but even if you don't drink for months, your liver will never be what it used to be." She reminded him in a cute voice that I did not expect to be used by a woman her age.

'And that answers that question.' I put the glass down.

Both sons looked up at their mother with similar glares. They didn't betray certain emotions, but the synchronized staring spoke volumes.

"Honey. I only had a few."

She caressed his back and got up. Like she was a guest in the house she helped pay for and yet, she continued to clean even after the man took both sons for a chat in the other room. Leaving me on wash duty in silence I didn't know how to break.

"My son, Jungkook…" She suddenly started after she took the wet plate and dried it with a rug; a bit closer than I'd like.

"Yeah, what about him?" I asked with gloves covered in soap and wet sleeves.

"Is he… happy?"

I looked into the eyes of a mother.

A mother I didn't know if I could lie to.

I couldn't even breathe.

'Ah…fuck.'

"He said…" I cleared my throat without being able to blink and continued: "He has less anxiety lately."

"Aw, you're such a good boy." She caressed my back, so I looked ahead, unsure of how to react.

Her hand was warm.

My back was cold.

"Honey, the cab's here."

"Oh, yes. Get my bag, will you?!"

She apologized for making me clean the dishes twice and promised that'll be the last time even if I was the one who insisted since doing nothing seemed unbearable.

Yet, after I said good night and got hugged as if I was one of their children, I couldn't exactly control the emotion that suddenly engulfed my whole being into a dense, impenetrable prison.

I resumed washing the rest of the dishes after Jung went to bed and didn't say a thing, even when Jungkook poured himself another full glass.

"So, what do you think?" He asked.

I almost dropped a wet plate.

"About?"

"My parents, of course."

"They're good people."

"That's it?"

"That's it. They're really, really good people." I didn't know if he heard my voice crack, but if he did, he didn't let it show.

And I was grateful.

When the kitchen was too clean and we had too much wine, we finally collapsed on his bed without changing our clothes.

"I don't want to wash up." He mumbled against the pillow in an exasperated tone.

"Me neither." I matched his tone but looked at the back of his head with wonder.

He seemed to have felt me staring since he turned his head to meet my gaze.

"What?" He asked, sounding a bit drunk.

"Nothing."

"I didn't study at all today." He confessed.

"There's always tomorrow," I argued.

"Until there isn't."

"You have, what, two more months? And some."

"Not enough. I don't know shit." He complained.

"Don't say shit."

"Why not?"

"I don't like it," I admitted.

He showed me his red tainted tongue and whispered: "Shit."

I spanked his bottom without thinking.

"Don't."

"Excuse me! Mister cop of good manners..."

"I just don't like You saying it." I went on.

"What do you like to hear me say?"

I thought about it, but all my mind could come up with were dirty words that he had never previously said and which after meeting his parents, were words I was strangely embarrassed about wanting to hear Jungkook utter.

"So?" He asked with red cheeks after a long pause on my part.

"Nothing."

"Ha?"

"Just go to sleep."

I turned my head towards the wall and closed my eyes.

"We didn't finish talking. Answer my question. Hey."

By some miracle, he got up on his knees and started hitting my back playfully. Just like his mother did to his dad.

"Stop it," I mumbled.

He kept going until my brain reminded me exactly what the eyes of my dead mother looked like.

'No worry about her son's happiness whatsoever.'

It had nothing to do with Jungkook. But it was enough to have me turn around and grab his girly fists to shove them into the mattress.

"Go to sleep," I demanded.

"I don't want to." He whimpered, in a childish tone.

"Fucking go to sleep," I said a bit louder. On my knees, pushing him down by the shoulders as if that'd make him fall asleep.

"I said, I don't want to!"

"Why?!"

"Cause…" He started quietly.

"Cause what?"

He stopped talking, so I just laid on my back and closed my eyes.

He started hitting my chest.

"What the hell?" I caught his fists again and pinned him under me with frustration. "I know you're tired, so sleep. Your mom's going to be here in the morning."

"I don't care." He whined.

I saw red.

"What do you mean, you don't care?! She's your mom."

"Oh, pfff, she's going to leave in a few days anyway. And you know why? Not because her vacation's over, but because she wants to go to Galapagos or something. That's why."

"So, what? She loves you."

"She loves dad!"

"And you too!"

"Not as much as dad…" He whispered.

I sighed.

His wrists were still in my grasp and even if I was above him, he couldn't look me in the eye.

"It doesn't matter."

"The hell it does. She's with him and he's with her all year long."

"Stop being so ungrateful…"

"Just because you don't have your mom, that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to hate mine."

Something within me has cracked.

It was true. So, I couldn't get mad at him.

But also, I wished I could unhear it.

When realization struck him, Jungkook immediately checked for a reaction. Since I couldn't tell what face I was making, I simply slid down and laid on top of him. The forehead in the mattress by his head, chest on his chest, and arms by the sides of his body.

"You're crushing me!"

He struggled underneath but gave up seconds later.

"Shut up." I deadpanned.

"You're touching…"

"Shut up."

"Namjoon…"

I waited a few seconds before I forced myself to ask: "What?"

"I'm hard."

I didn't even open my eyes.

"Why?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Go to sleep." I sighed.

"I can't."

"Why not?" I finally looked at his face, only to see wide, almost scared eyes.

"Because tomorrow, I'll wake up and I'll be sober again."

'Ah…'

He looked at the ceiling as if he could see the pain he'd have to face tomorrow in the white of the paint.

I caressed his head. And didn't stop even though I wasn't sure if this was helping him in any way.

"You'll be fine," I said softly.

"And what if I'm not?"

"You can do it. I trust you."

"But what if I don't want to do it?" He looked straight into my eyes, yet didn't seem to be able to fully focus.

I didn't answer.

"What if I don't like being sober?"

I sighed deeply and talked as clearly and as fast as I could:

"It's not forever." I said even if it pained me to calm him down this way, I still thought it was the only way, so I kept going: "In two and so months, it's not only the exam but the moment when you can smoke as much as you want. It'll happen before you even realize it. But if you fail, you'll have to take the same exams again in the following month. That means you'll have to be sober for three full months, instead of two. Wouldn't that suck?"

"Yeah. I don't want that." He concluded, with cheeks that were slightly redder than before.

"So, do your best so you'll smoke faster. Dummy."

"But I hate it. My brain doesn't work. Everything hurts, everything tastes horrible, and nothing's funny, I have too much energy, and ahh!" He made various sounds to release some of that energy, moving his arms around as if battling an invisible foe.

It moved my body just enough to feel the hardon that was nothing, but a white lie.

I sighed again and caught his face between my hands, whispering clearly:

"Two months. And we'll get shit-faced. Every time you feel down, keep telling yourself: Just two months. And then: Just one month, one week, one day, one hour. The hell has to end."

"Fine…" He closed his eyes. Looking unhappy, but closer to falling asleep.

I let him go and resumed my previous position until I heard him chuckling.

"What now?" I asked, exasperated.

"You said shit."

"I'll hit you…"

"It's too quiet."

I thought about it and suggested: "Tv?"

"…yeah."

I got off him and found the remote in the dark faster than I thought humans should find remotes while slightly intoxicated.

"Here?" I asked when I landed on a music channel where a skinny man was playing piano softly, wearing a suit.

"Nah. Keep going and I'll tell you when to stop."

I did so for the next five minutes.

He commentated every single one: "No. Hate it. What the heck? Not in a million years. I'd rather die. No. No. No."

"For fuck's sake Jungkook!"

"Shh! Jung might hear you." He whispered in a grave voice, suddenly aware of where he was.

"It'd be a miracle if he didn't hear anything until now."

"Stop! Here. It's the episode I didn't get to see this morning."

"Isn't this the show you saw like ten times?"

"So what? It's relaxing."

"If you say so."

"Aww, but I missed the middle. I think this is the end."

("The pros and cons of continuing your relationship with Bill."

"Mom?"

"Well, he certainly understands women."

"Okay, that's a pro."

"He used to be a woman."

"I'll put con."

"He slept with Charlie when he was a woman."

"Pro. No, wait, con. Definitely con."

"He knows what I like in bed."

"He knows what I like in bed."

"We'll call that a wash."

"What's the score?"

"It's about even."

"He's gorgeous. He can afford the beach-front property and he's got a trunk full of fabulous shoes that fit me perfectly. Don't wait up, Mommy's got a date.")

'In what world is this relaxing?'