Tunneling

AN: This chapter and the next 3 will be from Jungkook's perspective. Also, an important thing that I don't remember mentioning to you, dear Smokers, is that the few or many of you who read the new chapter in the first hours, or sometimes the first day will definitely encounter the most mistakes. Spelling and all. Sometimes I change whole paragraphs. Never plot though, or I don't remember doing that. I'm probably correcting it while you're already reading or after I wake up which will be some or many hours after I post. For some reason, if some time has passed, I see them. If not…I don't see it. It's weird. But yeah. And it's not like I don't edit it beforehand, but I always find the most mistakes after I post it, every time. Basically, I am cursed. Thanks for putting up with me for so long. And here's the new chapter:

Tiny pulsating, sparkly lights fading in and out. Wrapped around the red and golden, fake Christmas tree. Blue, yellow, green, and red little man-made stars. All behind my father's frame, sat at my mother's left at the same low, pullout table covered with a white, snowflake-themed table cloth. We all had to keep our legs folded in order not to touch each other under the table. But the carpet I was sitting on was not helping the ongoing pain from my backside very much.

"So, how did the two of you do in the final exa…ups. Jungkook!" Father exclaimed, mostly because Namjoon was cleaning the spill up and not because he was that appalled at the innate clumsiness.

"Sorry. But I warned you about sitting in front of me."

"This is the second glass you've spilled. Are you trying to tell me that you don't like the eggnog?" Mom was laughing, simultaneously wiping the drops that made it onto her dress fervently.

"Will it leave a stain?" Jung asked because he was making conversation, more so than out of genuine concern.

"It doesn't matter. Now, where were we? The results?"

"Ah, yes." I looked down from his joyous expression and rocked back and forth before exclaiming a happy: "I passed!"

"That's wonderful!"

"I have no idea how though... I don't even remember what I wrote either..." I mumbled quietly while they were throwing congratulations using different words that meant the same thing at the same time.

"Does it matter? Be happy that you're free," Namjoon murmured through it all, taking a sip of his eggnog.

"What grade did you exa…" Jung started asking without bothering to look up from his plate. I was somewhat certain he was avoiding to ever since he got an eyeful of Namjoon's bruised face. As if he didn't trust himself not to stare otherwise.

But mom didn't let him finish: "That's not important!"

"Too high for the bits that I remember writing." I thought out loud, holding my head up, elbow almost landing in the plate with one swift move since I was staring into the distance, trying to recall anything about that day besides the corpse in the bath, the hangover that gave me a splitting migraine, never-ending backside pain, and the big, black guy who drove us there for 'security reasons'. Details about the reason why everyone was in danger in the first place was something I was not allowed to know so the anxiety of that day was akin to not only drinking four espresso shots but a few energy drinks as well.

Mom's hands joined one another in one clap, so I did my best to force a smile that didn't show my ongoing paranoid scenario that consisted of someone calling at any moment to inform me that the results I've received have been nothing but a miscalculation or a name swap.

"It's great, honey. This Christmas is suddenly ten times better. But what about you Namjoon? How did you do?"

He almost choked on the sip that he had already taken before he put the glass down, talking without looking up, in a similar fashion to Jung:

"I pretty much nailed it. Not bragging or anything…"

"A near-perfect grade! He's a freaking genius." I bragged for him, without hiding the exasperation.

"Wow, really?" The words did not match the lack of enthusiasm in my brother's voice.

Minute glowing lights were beating in unison, leaving their momentary colorful shadows on everything around them. When my parents had arrived, my heart was beating just as slowly. Yet, with the passing of time, I grew more and more concerned that the pace of my heart was going to be identical to the bulb of the fake candle, hanging on for dear life on the kitchen counter behind me and Namjoon. The one that I could perfectly stare at in the reflection of the wide mirror by the tree. The worn-out white yet yellowy, dusty, plastic, candle, placed right next to the kitchen knives.

"This deserves a toast! An eggless one."

"That's not necessary, mom…come back and finish eating."

Namjoon rubbed my thigh under the table when I nearly got up to follow her.

And the guilt for achieving something I couldn't but doubt was replaced with the fear that Jung saw what Namjoon casually did.

"I got this expensive, sweet wine that I was told it…"

'Mom, I'm gay.'

"Jung, can you get five wine glasses? I only got two arms."

"Why me?" He whined.

"It's alright, Mrs. Jeon. I'll get them. I'm done eating, anyways."

"Thank you, Namjoon. You're so sweet." She sat down gracefully and started unwrapping the bottle at once. While whispering to my brother: "Why can't you be more like Namjoon?"

"I bet that he doesn't treat his own mother the same way he treats you." He whispered back with a sharp edge to his tone.

"Namjoon's an orphan." I found myself blurting out Namjoon's business. Mostly to offer a selfish distraction from what I should be confessing myself and not what Namjoon should confess to my parents himself. If he wanted to at all.

The wine bottle opened with a pop, but everyone forgot to blink despite the sudden, loud sound.

"Are these glasses good, Mrs. Jeon? I think they're the only ones. What's wrong? Is everything…?"

"Yes!" Her eyes flitted from me to him. But the other two didn't get their breath back for way too many seconds.

"I think I've heard a rumor, but I didn't think that it was…" Jung leaned in whispering from the end of the table toward me, who was sitting at his right, while Mom widened her eyes and slightly bent over the table too, from my brother's left. But Namjoon already sat back down next to me and before dad with a thud.

"What rumor?" Namjoon inquired, sounding curious.

"Nothing. Nothing. You don't know who it is about anyway," Jung swiftly straightened his back with a nervous simper. Earnestly cutting the steak into bite size pieces.

'And Namjoon's a dealer. But he might quit for a while. Or for good…hopefully. Hahah. And I am addicted to weed. Nothing else cause I am afraid to try anything else. Yet. Though that's how we've met...but we knew each other before too, kinda earlier, but…mm…it's not really a ha-ha Christmas story that my family will bond on for the years to come, isn't it? Hell no! IT'S NOT!'

"Ups. It slipped out of my hand too, Jungkook! I guess there's something in the air tonight." Dad joked.

"Honey!" She hit him lightly on the arm.

'None of this is funny. Isn't it? Why are you all smiling? I'm not even sure if I am gay or if I am just gay for him. Or did he make me gay? I liked a girl when I was younger. I think…maybe…maybe not…'

"Anyone wants to give the toast?"

The glasses were finally filled to the brim after I've successfully distracted myself by staring at nothing but the red twinkle light that pulsated right next to mom's right shoulder. Contrasting so well with her black long-sleeved dress.

I shook my head since she stared directly at me; Jung didn't bother with being subtle, so he blurted a straight out "No." Namjoon didn't move, nor talk.

"I'll try then." Dad appointed himself by simply raising his glass above all others.

Mom set her glass down as soon as he did this, to tap him on the shoulder like we were supposed to be blind and deaf for those couple of seconds in which they interacted only with each other.

"Honey, don't say a word about…"

"Don't worry. I won't say anything…" She tensed and then relaxed when he heard him go on, "about how cute my boys were when they were younger and how much they've grown. How I sometimes look at their baby pictures and…"

'Was I gay since the day I was born? Is that how it works? I didn't do any research. Should I have researched before telling them? Did Namjoon do any research?'

"Oh honey, I look at them secretly too."

'I bet smarty pants did his research already,' I thought to myself, bitterly.

"Dad! For the love of God, stop." Jung begged, hiding his face in two open palms.

"How they'd wake up hours before Santa arrived, and fell asleep in their animal onesies on the carpet under the tree since they got tired waiting. But! This year we've got company. And some great company at that. Namjoon, our youngest son has let us know that you've helped him study and that you're a great friend. And the proof is that …he's passed this hurdle that his mother and I, well, ...we didn't think he'd pass." I felt my cheeks heating up, but that subsided as soon as he darkly added: "Not from the first try, at least."

'In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that he had no parents…'

"Gosh, thanks, dad." My words were tainted by ironic and the smile forced, but that didn't prevent him to keep going with the solemn tone:

"After we first met you, we could tell that you are a good boy. And we're just as proud that you, his friend, are doing well, and that…"

'You're fucking our son until he hates sitting down.'

"....and proud of our oldest, Jung, for growing up to be such a responsible son, who's been in a relationship for longer than two months for the first time since...."

"There, there. Great speech, dad. Can we drink now?" Jung grunted.

"And for your mother, who had a health scare which was, thank god, only in her head. I am still so happy about that."

"I told you not to tell them that!" She didn't tap him this time, but straight up slapped the same arm that was holding up the wine glass.

"What health scare? What happened?" Namjoon seemed seriously worried. But I was more concerned with the unusual signs of childlike affection that oozed off him towards my mother, rather than whatever her hypochondria made her believe this time.

"It was nothing." She waved his worries away. "I thought it was something serious, but I must've hit myself by mistake and didn't realize."

"This is not my best toast, but neither of you was up for the task, so, cheers!"

"Cheers, dad!" Jung deadpanned.

"Cheers!" Mom exclaimed, smiling.

'Why did I listen to him? If I was high this wouldn't have been so damn hard!'

"Cheers…" I murmured.

"This actually tastes good."

"You sound a bit stunned, Namjoon."

"No! No…I wasn't implying anything by it. I simply assumed it'd be sweeter. That's all."

Mom chuckled, and after taking another sip said: "To be honest, I wish it was a bit swee…"

I parted my lips, thinking: now or never.

"Mom, Dad, can I talk to you in private for a minute?" The words that should've come out of me, came out of my brother's mouth instead.

"Of course." They both abandoned their drinks at the same time. If they would've told me that they'd rehearsed it, I would've believed them. However, I caught them locking eyes before standing up, and walking toward the bedroom without asking Jung one single question.

"If we're gone for too long, you two can get started on the dessert."

"Sure." The word was strained, but it was irrelevant.

The air was now heavier. Suffocating, yet far too crisp for my liking. I kept imagining the weed that I didn't have with me. While the lights were fading too slowly every time I looked ahead. Nonchalantly mocking me with their gradual, programmed fading and blinking.

I was holding my head up with the palm of one hand, tapping the table with the other, thinking: 'They're seriously annoying.'

"What do you think it's about?" Namjoon wondered out loud.

"I don't know, but it can't be as bad as what I have to tell them."

He sighed.

"There's nothing bad about being honest with the kindest parents that I've ever…"

"WHAT?!" My mother's shriek had both of us widen our eyes as if we have also rehearsed it.

Afterward, the tense silence swallowed us whole.

I immediately reached for the eggnog cup that tasted stronger than the wine. Namjoon covered my hand with his, before the bottom of the cup got lifted off the table.

"Don't get drunk." He took that hand to his lips and kissed it once before I took, said hand, back. Feeling something in my stomach moving.

I was speechless.

Hence, I averted my eyes and picked up the wine glass instead.

Namjoon lightly slapped the inside of my thigh while I was taking a healthy gulp. Cheeks burning.

"How many beers have you drunk so far?" I stuttered yet forced myself to ignore the hand that lingered where it had just slapped.

"Shut up." He said smiling and downed the rest of his wine before asking: "Cake?"

"Like I can eat anything else. My stomach's one big knot. I can't believe I've got the appetizers and the meat down."

"It's all a blur, isn't it? I don't even remember what the appetizers were."

I judged him with a fixed glare.

"Really? How could you forget the taste of those awful, disgusting, repugnant…"

My brother's bedroom door hit the wall of the hallway. Meaning that one of them has shoved it open with that much force.

To my surprise, mom walked out first, considerably paler. Dad appeared unnaturally calm.

Jung was livid.

"…what did you guys talk about?" I dared to ask, but out of the three, only dad has sat down in front of Namjoon. Mom and Jung disappeared somewhere behind us, in the open kitchen.

I assumed that she was getting the dessert, but the sound of another bottle being popped open proved that theory wrong.

"I think your brother should be the one to…" Dad started saying quietly.

The bottom of the glass hit the dark countertop and its sound was deafening enough to have me trying to take a peek at what was occurring through the reflection of the mirror by the tree. But all I could see was the cursed decorative, festive plastic candle.

"What difference does it make?! Do you want to be the one to ruin your brother's day Jung or should I?"

"Don't really care…"

"Marvelous."She blurted out while something else was getting moved around noisily before she walked around the counter and plummeted on the floor cushion besides dad. With a darker wine bottle in hand, she was leaning forwards, looking nothing short of furious while both of them knew that: "His girlfriend, wait, what's her name again?"

"Tammy."

"Right." She nodded to herself as if she had just recalled that she's already learned that name after Jung had just informed her. "Tammy. He got her pregnant."

"I did not get her pregnant mom! It was an accident!"

"An accident?!" She let go of the bottle, standing up, "Forgetting your passport is an accident. Hitting another car because you didn't see it coming is an accident. Getting a girl pregnant when there are condoms at every store is no accident!"

I didn't dare look up at her. Simultaneously, unable to do anything but stare at her lower half without truly seeing it.

Breathing in deeply and holding it in until I was getting dizzy.

"Namjoon, I apologize on my family's behalf for …" The lower his head bowed while saying that, Dad's voice became smaller.

"Oh! Bullshit! Don't apologize to him!" Jung screamed, still from behind us.

'Slow…fading…lights.' I released the breath as controlled as possible.

"Why?! Did he also knock up his first girlfriend?!" Mom yelled back.

"For fucks sake, she's not my first girlfriend! She's just the only one who has ...lasted longer than the rest."

"And that was her reward?!" She asked him, but then turned towards dad. Talking with the lowest voice that she's used in a hot minute: "…how old is she again?"

Jung somehow heard this.

"Do you ever listen to a word I say? Ever?! I bet you know how old Namjoon is!"

"He's in the same class with Jungkook!"

"Was." Dad corrected her.

Fast…flickering light reflecting in the mirror.

"You're the one who said you wanted grand kids. Well, here you go! Why aren't you happy?"

"Not now! Does she even know what she wants to do with her life or was this her dream job? Being a mom at…" She couldn't remember and dad shrugged so she went on without that piece of information, "You're still so young! You should be out there, enjoying your youth! A child is a lifetime commitment!"

"I know mom, I wasn't born yesterday!"

"You're not married to her. Are you? Or did you forget to invite us to that accident?"

"Why are you acting like a child?" He chuckled ironically "That's how you're going to be? Yes, I didn't get to tell you only ever ask if I am home all the time instead of what I am doing when I am not home!"

There was nothing else besides their yelling and the lights. And my fingers, my unusually warm fingers.

"That has nothing to do with you! You know I'm always worried that Jungkook's home alone all day long!"

Jung stormed towards the end of the table and pointed straight at me with an accusatory finger.

"Him?"

I swallowed all the saliva from my mouth in that instant.

"If you would've called him instead of me then you would've known that he's never home either! I have barely seen his face all year. And you know why? Because he's always at this guy's place!"

There was a brief, grave silence, and dad broke it, instead of mom who was busy staring angrily at Jung.

"Is that true, Jungkook?"

I hesitantly nodded.

"How often?"

"Pretty much…almost…every day." I forced myself to say it. Hoping it'd be enough. Hoping I wouldn't have to divulge anything else for the rest of the night.

But at the same time, wondering if this was the perfect moment to get the skeletons out of the closet. Dust them off and throw them at my parents, saying: Look. This is what I've got. All I got. And it's all ugly and wrong. But he's helping me with what he's got! With all the ...weed and the never-ending sex.

'No. I shouldn't mention any addiction.'

I was bracing myself. Since this couldn't be as bad as a child out of warlock. I thought this. But then peeked at Namjoon, whose head was hung lower than my dad's.

"Thank you for …housing our son, Namjoon. And for helping him pass the hardest exam that he'll ever have to take. We are forever indebted to you."

"No. Please. Don't say that, Mr. Jung. I merely…enjoy his company."

'Is the battery of the plastic candle that's about to give out or the candle's wires are melting?'

"Oh! Just fuck off!" My brother dragged the swearword and that seemed to scratch mom's eyeballs since it had her blinking multiple times after Jung had stopped speaking. I wondered if she was having a stroke when Jung went on: "You always forgive him. No matter what he does! If I would've spent all day with my guy friend you wouldn't stop nagging!"

"Don't talk like that to your father, young man! Apologize right now."

His fists landed on the low table, right between mother and me, while he glared straight at dad who seemed like he wasn't aware that Jung was there at all while he was saying: "It's because of his panic attacks, isn't it? I wish I had them too. I wish I had depression too. Pill addiction! All of it! So, you would forgive every single wrong thing I've ever done since I was fucking born in this fu…"

Mom didn't have to get up since he was right in front of her. But she still moved upwards on her knees when she slapped him so hard that it echoed.

Jung just stood there, frozen, and bewildered.

And I was stuck looking into those distraught eyes since they were mere centimeters away from mine.

The sound happened once. But it was deafening, yet quick. For some reason, it kept repeating in my head over and over again.

'I'm not telling them. I'm never…telling them a damn thing.' I decided right then and there when my brother's watery eyes got red with fury, while he heard mom demanding:

"Go to your room."

He swiftly turned to spit the words out in her face:

"You don't get to be a mom only whenever you feel like it. Cause if that's how you like to play house, then I get to pick when I feel like being your son too. And today's not that day."

He straightened himself up, fixed his white shirt, and walked away.

It was only when the front door was slammed shut that mom broke down crying.

As if on cue, dad scooted closer to his wife, massaging her shoulders with a downcast expression.

Namjoon's head was in the same position. And I…I choose to stare at the reflection of the candle from the mirror once more.

Cause my heartbeat and its panicked flicker matched perfectly.

And the fake tree behind them and their calm lights, I wanted to make them go up in flames. That's how jealous I was of every single one of them.

Through my mother's uncontrollable weeping and my father's comforting lines, Namjoon's hand covered mine under the table and squeezed.

I squeezed back.

We didn't talk much after. We forgot about the food but did drink in the most uncomfortable silence of my life. And after mom felt too embarrassed to keep crying, forced all of us to eat the cake as if it had some 'erase the past hours of your life' ingredient in it.

It left me feeling nauseous.

They didn't give a reason why they were sleeping over. But anyone would be able to tell that they were secretly hoping that they'd be here in case Jung returned.

I caught a glimpse of mom caressing Jung's sheets through the ajar door on the way to the bedroom.

"Good night, dad."

"Night."

And I closed the door. Then heard their door closing. So, I locked mine as well.

Finally, free to breathe loudly.

"Shit." That was all I could say when I turned around and saw Namjoon sitting in the chair by the desk.

He reached out his hand, but I passed by it and crashed on the bed that was so close to the wall that two more people could've fit in it.

I choose to stare at the wall instead of Namjoon, but talked to him nonetheless:

"Well, that went as planned. Don't you think?"

"The food could've been better."

A smile did erupt without my consent, but it faded as fast as it came.

"I couldn't say it, Namjoon," I admitted, closing my eyes.

"It was not the time, nor the place."

"No. It was perfect," I rectified, close to tears, "I could've taken the heat off my brother for once in my life. I could've…"

"I don't think he meant what he said."

"No, he meant it. Even though I don't think he blames me fully. He still…meant it."

"Jungkook…"

I covered myself with the blanket and pulled it up to my neck.

"Turn off the lights?"

"No. Let's talk about this." The warm tone he was using, it reminded me of the way dad reassured mom minutes ago. Telling her over and over again that their oldest son didn't abandon them forever. That they could try again. That they'll find a way to help him with whatever he chooses to do from now on, and mend their relationship after they've had time to cool off and think things over.

"What's there left to say? My only brother is having a child and I can't help him with anything because I'm useless. My parents are losing their minds! And now they know that I've lived at your place without any …good reason, since Jung's been gone too."

"They can't fault you for…"

I interrupted him. "This apartment's been empty for months on end Namjoon. And I still choose to sleep elsewhere. So, don't worry. They'll throw some money your way soon enough, even though I didn't have the guts to ask them for it."

"Jungkook, stop saying that. It wasn't about the money in the first place."

"...can you turn off the lights, please?"

"It was about letting your parents in on who you are. About…"

"You sure didn't look confident about letting them in on anything," I argued. Sounding more upset at him than I was.

He sighed.

"Well…truth be told, I don't really deserve them accepting me as I am. But you do!"

"Turn off the lights!"

One deep sigh later, the darkness engulfed everything like a second protective blanket.

The tall guy paced around for a while and then decided to lay down next to me and caress the back of my head with his big hand.

"Don't." I curtly told him.

"I wasn't…"

"I know. Don't do that either."

And for once, he obliged.

For a while, I was stuck with my thoughts until he was louder than any of them. Even though he was softly reassuring me:

"They'll forgive him"

"I know they will."

'I hope.' I secretly thought.

"They were in shock. Anyone would've been in their place."

"I know."

"Then why are you the one who's upset?"

"I just…I…got angry at some point…somewhere."

"When?"

I prompted myself up to see his face since the closeness of the white wall was starting to make me feel claustrophobic. Hence, I took the spotlight from myself and directed it at the one who was looking up at the ceiling, hands clasped on the abdomen.

"Why did you look so guilty?"

"Ah."

"Yeah, ah."

"Well…because I am the one who's turned you? A bit?"

"Let's make this clear. You didn't turn me. No one who isn't already...predisposed to something can be turned with a word or two."

'I think?'

"You're right, a word or two won't do anything. But I did try pretty hard to turn our bathroom meetings into something more than just…a bathroom meeting. And then I took your virginity while you were high off your face. After I provided illegal stuff for years…mmm... all in all, you could say it's an action or two…"

"I would've done that for green anyways! It wasn't your fault that I had an out-of-the-ordinary sexual…first experience."

"Huh. You would've done that with just anybody? Huh. And I thought I was special. Man, am I not retarded?"

"That's not what I'm saying! What I'm saying is…"

"Exactly that." The silence was screaming again. And then his deep voice filled it with: "Good night, Jungkook."

Words that kept repeating over and over, despite his back being turned and his mouth remaining shut.

"No. Wait. I really don't know what I would've done. I was just… don't turn around when I am talking to you."

I was pulling on the shirt, but it was futile.

Then I heard him mocking: "Harder."

"Shut up." I kept pulling and in a fit of despair, jumped over him, and pretty much slid towards the floor without him reaching an arm to catch me. The fall hurt, but I ignored it and stood on my knees by the edge of the bed. Face at the same level with his, saying: "I don't know what would've happened. But what happened has already happened. So, what's the point in fighting over who did what? We're both to blame. And we're both not to blame. Right?"

"Just like you and your anxiety problems."

"Just like me and my anxiety problems," I repeated, but much more quietly than he said it.

He reached out and caressed my cheek. And I closed my eyes since I felt myself welling up again.

"Namjoon…" My voice was breaking at the end, so I let the words out without thinking, "I don't know if it's just you or if I really am unable to be with a girl but sometimes, I feel like you treat me like I am one... I am not as strong, and not as…I…"

I covered my face in embarrassment.

But the tears returned where they came from when he asked:

"You want to try it?"

"Try what?" My tone went flat, all sadness, gone.

"Doing it with a girl?"

I revealed my face to show my incredulity.

"What?" I deadpanned.

"If you only want to check if you can get hard, then I won't get jealous."

"Yeah, right..."

"I mean it. You should get to fuck someone else at least once. And I'd rather consent to it first."

I frowned from newfound frustration.

"You'll never let me fuck you, won't you?" That question was not thought out, but the grin that spread on his face and the light slaps on my cheek told me everything before he's even blurted a certain:

"Never."

I chuckled with self-pity and fell headfirst into the side of the mattress. He kissed the top of my head. "Anyone already on your mind?"

"No," I muttered into the sheets.

"Not one girl from our school that you thought was cute?"

"I didn't really look…"

"What kind of a man are you?" He joked.

"I don't want to do it with some random girl, Namjoon."

"Hmm…well, when you'll go to uni, you'll find someone you like. And you'll get to fuck her a total number of, drum roll please: one."

"That's so kind of you." A sarcasm-filled compliment.

"I know, right? It's Christmas too. I might get a halo until new year's."

I looked up and was taken aback by how close his face was. Asking:

"You don't mean it, do you?"

"I do. If you want to , I'll be there, holding your hand through it all."

"No, absolutely not!" I got up as burned and started pacing around.

He chuckled the entire time, and then suggested: "We can have a threesome."

Taehyung's voice popped up and had me paralyzed.

"But how will you find out if you're gay or not if I fuck you from behind while you're fucking her? But that sounds pretty hot… you might even get to do it twice if I…"

"Shh! My parents are in the other room."

"So, what do you say?" He went on, ignoring me.

"We're not having a threesome!" I whispered in a shouting way.

"We'll see."

"No! There's nothing to be seen!"

"Come here." He scooted back and patted the empty space that he created. I shook my head.

"I need something."

"What? Hey, where are you go…"

And I was out in the kitchen, face to face with mom drinking alone by the sink.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Jungkook?"

"What are you doing?"

"Curing insomnia."

"You don't have insomnia, mom."

"I do now. What are You doing?"

"Preventing a fire."

"Come again?"

I held up a finger and stormed towards the flickering candle only to break it open with a snap. And then threw the batteries in the trash just to be safe.

"Why did you do that?"

"Just a moment…"

Approached the Christmas tree with a frown. And unplugged the lights.

"Amazing how fast insomnia can be cured."

She smiled at my explanation, despite being obviously puzzled.

I grinned, walking up to her.

"Can I have some wine too?"

"Since when do you drink so much?" I shrugged while she poured me half a glass. But I drank most of it before asking:

"How are you feeling?"

"Better now that your brother has finally picked up his phone."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He apologized... I apologized."

Her lower back hit the counter after she took a step back and averted her eyes.

"Then why are you here drinking by yourself? Everything's been resolved."

"No. Jungkook. It hasn't." She whispered this as if this piece of information was a secret that no one else should know. "That baby was not planned. This means that not only were they not ready financially, nor mentally, but they absolutely haven't consciously chosen what it's about to come which will make it ten times harder to go through. And that won't only ruin Jung's life, but that kid's life too. It might ruin that girl's…" She kept waving her hand, trying to remember.

"Tammy."

"Hers and your brother's precarious relationship. All because he didn't wear a rubber thingy on his…." She made a sound that reminded me of a child whose toys have been stolen. And even though I agreed with her, I couldn't but find a flaw in it all.

"They'll do their best, mom. And that's all a parent can do at the end of the day. Planned or not."

"Can't take it back once it starts growing in the oven, can you?"

"How far along is she anyway?"

She puffed and brought the glass up to her lips, mumbling:

"Hell, if I know…"

I smiled with affection. Knowing that the reason why she didn't bother learning anything about his girlfriend wasn't that she wasn't interested in her oldest son like Jung believed. But because after she got attached to his first girlfriend and then they kept coming, she lost count and like any emotionally sane human being decided that there was no point in caring about them. Until now. When she wished that she would've kept getting attached to each and every single one only so Jung wouldn't take it personally.

And Jung didn't understand that. Only judged.

"But please, Jungkook, if you're going to take away anything after today. Please, wear a condom. I don't want to hear about how it's uncomfortable or…"

I cut her off, showing my teeth more so than grinning.

"Don't worry mom. I won't get anyone pregnant. Trust me."

"My little boy." She hugged me with the glass still in her hand. And kissed the top of my head, just like Namjoon had, whispering: "I've ruined Christmas, haven't I?"

The throaty words, they let me know she was close to bursting into tears once more. I hugged her back tightly.

"It wasn't your fault Mom. You…reacted as any mom would."

"A bad mom."

"A mom who cares. A mom who does her best."

"I'll try harder, Jungkook. I promise. But I never had the freedom that you two have taken for granted." She stepped back, one hand lingering on my right shoulder. Eyes wet, but not one tear falling. "I wished my parents would've allowed me to do whatever I wanted, so that made me want to give you two the freedom that I've never had. But I didn't ask if you two wanted it and then I just got used to being away, afraid to come back and ashamed for having left in the first place... but you know that I always think of you two, I always…"

"I know mom. Dad told us everything many, many moons ago. There's no need to explain yourself."

'And I forgot most of it, but I can't stand to hear the same excuse that makes me hate you twice.'

"Go to bed." She pleaded, more so than suggested it to me. Refusing to break down before her kid twice in the same day.

"You too."

I picked up the mug and headed towards the bedroom door, but when I turned to say good night, her expression was changed to that of worry that came out like a serious afterthought:

"Is Namjoon upset?"

"No way." I waved the air with a flick of the wrist and hopefully that worry away, "He kept telling me how you two will make up and that you were so cool when you slapped him."

"I slapped my son on Christmas. Oh, I forgot…" She brought a palm up to her forehead and I immediately regretted reminding her.

"You were so cool today mom." I heard myself saying.

The hand that covered half her face was gone and it revealed the softest of smiles.

I walked backward, all the way back to my room. Not able to say one more word.

I bumped into Namjoon on my way in. Pushed him backward a few steps so I could lock the door.

"Hold it."

"Wine? For me? You shouldn't have."

"It's mine."

And when the familiar clicking sound has hit our ears, I was the one being pushed against the door. His front squishing my behind.

"Namjoon…" I whispered, not hiding my anger, "mom's in the kitchen…"

"I heard." He whispered in my ear after taking a sip.

"Then what are you…"

"Let me touch you."

He casually demanded and as if I already offered him permission, slipped both hands under my blouse.

"No…stoah…"

He pinched, twisted, and pulled.

"You didn't give me a present."

'That's because I gave all my money to Fred.'

It half tickled at the beginning and then the pain traveled up to my stomach and sent signals straight towards the lower half.

"Are you out of your freaking mind?!"

Since one of my ears was pressed against the wooden door, I heard Jung's door being shut the moment it happened. I exhaled in relief, but tensed as soon as his hand went inside the boxers to squeeze a limp cock.

"Tomorrow. I will give it to you…ah…tomorrow…Nah...not with my parents…in ah…other room."

"Why? If you don't make a sound, then they won't know."

"There's no way I won't make any sounds!" I scream-whispered. Hand on his hand. Appearing like I was helping him jerk me off.

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"You'll see that you can, considering that your parents are in the other room."

"Namjoon, I swear to …mph…I'll…!"

The hand that was on my nipple was now covering my mouth. And the other kept going up and down, pulling and twisting on the increasingly harder skin that reacted ever so eagerly to his crude touches.

And then his own hard-on started rubbing between my clothed ass cheeks.

I shut my eyes. Giving up, yet cursing the fact that I was sober. Surrendering to the feeling of his fingers fondling my balls as if they were nothing but another thing to tease me with right before I could feel the cold air of the room against my bare, hairless legs.

"Don..ah.."

Fingers penetrated my mouth while the others kept moving at a constant pace.

Saliva was dripping down while teeth sunk into my upper back. Muffled protests escaped when without any preparation and no prior warning, the tip of his dick forced its way into my dry hole. Which made him use the saliva-coated fingers to cover my mouth once more. I felt the tip for exactly two seconds before he rammed it inside.

I moaned.

My tightness and his width left my mind blank as if I did consume some sort of drug. I felt my front, dripping while the back was getting abused. My insides opened up to him. Welcomed him as he forced his way in.

I ejaculated on my bedroom door only after a few thrusts. After that, his fingers filled my salivating mouth in order to muffle the screams and gather some natural lube.

I felt full and empty at the same time.

'Why did I cum just from that…what is wrong with…'

"Aw."

But the pain was beginning to overrule all other sensations.

"Bite your tongue." He told me. Pulling out his wet fingers and using them to coat the penis that left my contracting muscles as I held myself up by the door. However, I wanted to lay on the bed, on the floor, or anywhere else but to rely on two wobbly knees.

Since I was free to move, I turned, looked down at the ridiculously monstrous dick, and walked exactly two steps past him in defiance of what he had just done before his hand grabbed the back of my neck and guided me towards the floor.

Before I knew what was happening, my cheek was making contact with the carpet.

"You can't…not here…it'll be loud…it's always…"

"I'll move slowly." He whispered in my ear so low that I was ashamed of my own volume.

"You don't know how to move slowly!"

But he made me one with the ground, pinning me under him in a matter of seconds. Pants that were thrown somewhere, along with the boxers and shirt up to my neck.

I resisted a cry when he went inside me and then stopped. I didn't commend him on the unfamiliar, deliberate, steady, slow thrusts.

But when my breathing increased and my eyes rolled in the back of my head as he stretched my walls and hit my sweet spot head-on, he went just a bit faster and deeper to satisfy his own desires. My own pleasure was getting diminished and the pain of being torn apart was increasing by the second.

He probed as far as he could, but then resumed the prior pace.

All the while, I could feel my insides failing to accommodate his girth. And all I could hear was my own ragged breathing filling up the quiet night while he might've as well been a ghost.

There were no sounds coming from him. None at all.

And it bothered me to no end.

It was like a slap to the face. A reality check since it seemed like I was the only one affected.

The only sign of him existing were the moist sounds of his erection dragging itself lazily from the deepest spot it could reach into the protesting pucker hole.

And then he leaned down and I could feel his heart beating fast against my back.

It was quick. Just like the candle.

'Just like mine.'

My new erection was slowly getting rubbed against the carpet. The friction was making it burn. But the arms that were holding me by the armpits weren't allowing me to touch myself, back arching up after every thrust. His own back molding itself around mine.

It made me think of the way that I've seen dogs humping each other in the park.

But they were quick. While all that was quick about us was my breathing.

It took several seconds for him to pull out and go back in.

'He's never going to finish…' I thought, trying to brace myself every time he went back in after leaving me empty.

But I moaned out loud by mistake when he slapped my prostate head-on with the tip of his penis without sliding out at all afterward.

"Shh…" He covered my mouth at once.

And I too covered his hand. Feeling myself starting to sweat.

It wasn't long until I was hard again. Dripping on my own carpet.

Biting the inside of my cheeks hard enough to make a little wound in order to keep myself quiet.

"I can't believe I'm the ah one saying this, but…can you ah go a bit…a bit faster?"

"No." He replied without missing a beat.

"A bit…I…I doon't think I can...mn... take it…mmuch longer…"

"Tomorrow."

"You said that this was your prese…ah."

And he hit it again and again. But reached between my legs to jerk me off just as slowly.

"No, Jungkook. This is yours."

I bit the carpet while his dick assaulted my walls from unbearably close proximity.

His fingers wrapped around the base of my cock and squeezed it forwards as if he was trying to get some sauce out.

When the semen came pouring out after he bit my back and jerked me so fast it left me thoughtless. The orgasm itself lasted longer than it usually did. The skin of my entire body emanated warmth; my cock, especially, was burning up. The muscles of my asshole pulsating around his cock, in a mixture of agony and ecstasy.

I felt him pulling on my foreskin with every stroke on purpose. After he squeezed every drop out with only two fingers did the realization that I was salivating hit me. I regained some of my consciousness back only to tell no one in particular: "Fuck."

And I heard him smirking.

The concept of dignity seemed foolish considering the position I was in. And yet, the thought of my parents hearing their boy being reduced to nothing but a ball of whiny moans had me trying to close my mouth or at least, stand on my hands instead of my shoulders and face while getting pounded into the floor by another guy.

I went as far as to consider some snappy comeback, but all I was able to do was to keep my lips glued before my mouth was hanging open when the saliva started pouring out as a bodily response to the way he was playing with my scrotum and then teasing my wet piss hole with the tip of one finger.

Trembling from the toes to the fingers when he went all in only to keep it all in. Dragging it back and forth without pulling an inch out. He wasn't hitting my prostate but he was hitting something else too. Making my abdomen hurt.

'Make it wet and hit it there, lower, no, I'm too full, pull it out…no, don't pull it but stop hitting…'

I was breathing too loudly; I could hear myself echoing against the walls. It sounded just like a thirsty dog running in the scorching sun of July.

'What organ are you even hitting…ah, but it's starting to feel good …shit…there…the pain…the tearing…it's all…'

But I didn't let one word escape my mind. Way more conscious of where I was now after I've come twice. Or so I thought until the hand that was squeezing me dry a second ago wiped the cum that I produced on my own asshole. And then arrived at my neck all cleaned up.

Fingers that wrapped around my neck as they did around my cock. They were both smaller than his hand. And as if he's heard me, he dragged the tip of his cock lower and hit my sweet spot continuously, strangling me tighter and tighter with every powerful thrust.

It was not enough to scare me, but just enough to block half the air that used to go to the brain.

'But at least I can't moan like this.'

And without the air, nor vision despite the fact that the eyes were wide open, I felt him entering me better than I did before. My hole was being filled and emptied again and again. A bit too deep, a bit too wide, a bit too much, a bit too painful, and a bit too spot-on. But for once, after orgasming, I didn't want to go to sleep. I wanted him to stop missing my sweet spot on purpose, although he knew exactly where it was.

I didn't think I could bear the dryness of our skin; the harrowing sensation and the wait before he allowed me some pleasure between the blissful pain that I was enjoying despite wishing it would allow me to finish faster. Wishing I didn't know it would've felt better if he wasn't toying with me for who knows how long now. Making me squirm under him with my tongue out like a dirty dog. Brain paying utmost attention to every change in the sensations of my genitals yet half dizzy from the constricted air supply.

I wheezed when he released my neck and my back arched up further. That also made him arch himself higher. I could hear myself well so I kept trying to control something. To control anything.

Kept trying to steady my breathing, but it was hard since all the air I was getting in was making me feel more lightheaded.

It was like trying to catch a cloud that kept moving.

For some ungodly reason, when I tried to stand on my own hands, he pulled them from under me. It hurt greatly for a full second and then, it almost didn't register.

Namjoon was forcing me to look between my own legs. Supporting my upper body with the nape and the shoulders against the carpet. Ass up in the air while my abdomen was parallel to my thighs.

"Nam…"

He pulled out entirely and I just watched, head between my parted legs as he stood, kneeling on the floor. Calmly reaching out between the thighs to grab my dangling pink erect penis and jerk it up and down with more pressure than ever before. He kept pulling on it as if he wanted to detach it from my body and then he did the same to my balls with the other hand, but in the opposite direction.

He spat on his hands at some point since my genitals were all slippery now. Or maybe he's been using the cum that dripped from my asshole to my legs. I couldn't think, nor protest despite the uncomfortable new position.

I kept trembling, seeing his hands going from my shaft to the tip excruciatingly slowly while applying too much pressure as if I was being hypnotized. I was watching myself get harder and harder, leaking more and more, all from watching his large hands handling my genitals with so much roughness and yet so much precision that I could've sworn before the pope that he knew exactly what he was doing and how he wanted to make me feel.

It wasn't long until I was ready to cum, so I shut my eyes to stop seeing my now red, abused genitals. And to concentrate on the sensation of his hands delivering pleasure and yet just enough pain to keep me wanting more.

And when my penis twitched while he was fondling my scrotum and teasing my asshole with the other hand, without actually inserting the finger, he ceased all movement.

"Mphm…" I whined without words. The desperate long sound was communicating all the frustration I was feeling.

And then three fingers began squeezing even harder around the head of the cock and three around the base of my scrotum.

I blinked a few times, coming to terms that those fingers were not going to move now or anytime soon. Dawning on me that their purpose was to prevent all the cum from coming out.

"Mah…ah…ngh…"

Low disapproving sounds kept coming out of me, but no coherent words. Knees getting redder as I moved them back and forth, yet remained in the same exact position.

Couldn't see his face, but I assumed he was enjoying watching me struggle with no success. I kept eyeing his hands while moving around desperately with my balls full of cum in the palm of his hands. Hoping to catch the moment they'll let go.

I got mad when that didn't happen. So, I faced forwards, sliding my arms back from under myself in an attempt to escape his hold by crawling away on my hands and knees.

It hurt. It was unbearable, but it sent, tingly, electricity-like sensations all over my body. Pucker hole pulsating as if it was orgasming, but without the blissful feeling that came with it. As if it was begging for something to go in. I was wondering if he could see it.

And then blushed at the thought when he had my ass way somewhat in the air since he was holding my genitals as one would a tail. Lifting me up by using them, while shoulders were touching the carpet like before and hands lying limp on either side of my body. Me trying to crawl away was nothing but wishful thinking. I found myself in the same position as before. But now, I could feel where my genitals started way better.

I spoke with a voice that I did not recognize as my own. It didn't sound girly, nor did it sound manly. Not baby-like, nor adult-like.

It was what it was.

The voice of desperation mixed with complete submission: "Please…let me…"

My toes were curling while the rest of my body was ready for release. Veins and pathways enlarging and contracting. Begging for it.

I even forced my neck in a more uncomfortable position so I could see his erect, long, thick penis, just hanging between his thighs. Doing absolutely nothing.

Seeing it had me salivating.

But then he made a twisting motion. Torturing me further. Causing friction in a way that one shouldn't.

I didn't scream, but I did let out sounds that I was already ashamed of before I ceased making them.

"Please, please….no…don't pull up…please…" I begged, voice barely above a whisper.

"Let you do what?" Namjoon inquired, sounding so composed while I was tearing up.

My stomach turned. The pain traveled up. My prostate tingled. Walls tightening up and releasing without being able to close the space his dick's left behind. Without anything for my walls to wrap around.

I was losing grip on reality.

"Let ah, meah…"

'Mom, please be asleep.'

"What?" He whispered.

"Go."

"Nah…that's not the word I'm looking for."

And the fingers that were around my cock slid upwards just enough for one single drop of semen to slip out.

I watched it hitting the carpet.

That lone action had me breathing so fast, beads of sweat forming and dripping in a matter of seconds. Belly was aching, thighs rubbing against each other, and the entire duct through which my semen would go through was making its entire existence known to the brain for the first time in my life.

"Please…let me cum…please…"

"What about it?"

"Please…Please…don't…Aw! Aw..a.h…h…ha…"

"Shh."

He twisted and squeezed my balls for all they were worth without going up or down one millimeter. It hurt. Badly. It was a bit too much than I wanted it to be. And after he pulled as if he wanted to detach them from my body once again, without changing the position of his fingers whatsoever, I collected myself quickly only because I couldn't take it anymore. I had to put an end to it.

Wheezing in a hot sweat, pleading with no shame: "Let me cum. Please…Namjoon…please…"

"Tomorrow."

"Wha…No. Please…anything…plahease…I'll do …aw…ah…do anything…" I breathed out, gripping the carpet for dear life. Feeling like I was about to implode.

"Tomorrow, you're giving me my present."

I nodded without one thought passing through my mind.

"Please...please..."

I kept nodding multiple times without understanding what I was agreeing to.

And it worked.

Gravity finally allowed the balls to fall where they were supposed to be. Right before the fingers that were around the base of my cock, traveled all the way to the tip. And the cum came pouring out of me. I could feel the canal it went through since it had been expanding to its full capacity until now. I could feel the hot liquid pouring out as it twitched like a tiny hose containing too much water getting released under high pressure. My stomach went up and down slightly like the sperm was coming through my stomach as if I was forcing it all out after shoving a finger drown my throat. And I wasn't able to stop it from moving despite it making me feel ashamed to the core.

My legs were shaking like crazy while the hot white liquid was wetting the soft thighs on its way down.

I couldn't see. And I couldn't tell if it was because my eyes were shut or not.

The sweat that had gathered on my forehead felt colder now.

And when Namjoon's fingers went up and down on the now red, slightly swollen, sensitive cock, I almost wanted to slap his hands away.

But he squeezed every little drop out and I watched him do it through slow blinks. Lacking the energy to do anything else.

I was ready to fall asleep right there. Salivating with my ass up while his hands kept milking me dry like a cow.

However, when he started looking around for the pants he's discarded long ago, while my pucker was still inviting him in, I almost laughed out loud.

'Are you kidding me? You're still trying to make sure my parents don't notice anything in the morning after doing that?! How am I supposed to look dad in the eye after you made me your fucking bitch?!'

"Jungkook?"

"…yeah?"

"What do I clean this with? And the door?"

"…shirt? Use any shirt." I absently replied with a raspy voice.

"Hold on." He moved around so quietly that I didn't think someone looking like him could be physically capable of making little to no sounds. Assuming Fred must've trained him or something. I stared when his hard-on was swinging through Jung's tight burrowed pants when he walked to the door. Watched him wipe everything off while I was talking my body down from reacting to his hands.

Let him pick me up and put me into bed.

He was the one who pulled the covers over us and kissed me good night.

But I could still feel my ass begging to be filled back up despite the insides hurting, the balls aching and the cock burning up.

'I got my answer…didn't I? I am gay for this man. I'm…fuck…what did he just do to me? That was supposed to be enough…wasn't it? I came so much, but…'

"Jungkook?"

"Mm?"

"I got you a second phone."

"What for?"

"I think the one Fred's gifted you might have…something in it."

"Like what?"

"A bug? A…something." Silence followed by: "Anything besides nothing is bad."

"Oh, okay."

"You don't sound very surprised."

"Namjoon…did you ever do what you just did to me to someone else before?"

There was no pause to his answer.

"No. Why?"

"Just curious…"

"Did you like it?" He asked it jokingly, but I felt something within me crumbling.

I didn't answer. Not even with a blink. Instead, I was lying, wide awake, looking at the wall that separated us from my parents.

The glass of wine was forgotten somewhere by the door.

And whatever hope I had that I could ever be with a girl after Namjoon, as if my prior relationship has been a normal one was now lying in a crumpled shirt in the closed closet, sticky and white.

His breathing was hitting the back of the neck, causing hairs to stand up. His freak erection was solid against my ass, and those large hands were tightly wrapped around my chest.

My parents, hopefully sleeping in the adjacent room.

And all I could think of was:

'Fuck me.'