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“Do you think I’ll be able to go to heaven?” Jeongguk asked Yoongi.
It was way past midnight by now and Yoongi’s eyes were closed. Jeongguk almost reached a hand out to stroke the dead ends of his mint green hair but quickly stopped himself and turned on his back to look at the ceiling. He needed to dye it soon. The colour was all washed out.
Yoongi had just finished fucking him from behind so Jeongguk was only in boxers whereas Yoongi had sweatpants on due to going outside for a smoke every now and then.
He wasn’t sure what love felt like, whether it was a flame in your heart or something akin to a fear of yours that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. But, Jeongguk thought, this was the closest thing he’d ever get to it.
Yoongi’s hands all over his sweaty back as he’d kiss along the ridges of his spine. A hand roughly pulling his hair, enough to make him squeal. Tongues fighting for dominance like lovers might do.
Do lovers fight? Jeongguk’s not sure.
“Not with me, you won’t.” Yoongi huffed out a laugh as if Jeongguk was stupid for thinking such a silly thing.
Yoongi had always called him a dreamer. Stupid. Stupid for believing in something as out of reach as God. Jeongguk knows He’s real but he can’t ever seem to win against Yoongi so instead, he just pipes down.
“Why do you say that?” Jeongguk watched with big, wandering eyes as Yoongi sat up to grab his lighter and cigarette pack from the windowsill. A nasty habit.
Jeongguk looked outside but immediately pulled his eyes away when the balcony came into view. He mustn’t think thoughts like that. It’s the devil. The devil is tempting him.
Yoongi put a cigarette in his mouth and spoke as he lit it, his speech muffled, “Cause you’re a fucking sinner, that’s why.”
Jeongguk felt hurt and was quick to defend himself, quick like the spread of a fire, “I pray everyday, hyung. I’ve been good. I’ve been really good.”
“Ain’t enough for your God though, baby.” He took a drag of his cigarette. He offers Jeongguk a smoke but he declines. He always declines but Yoongi never fails to offer him one. As if he’s just waiting for the right moment to call him a sinner.
“You sleep in the same bed as a man most nights.”
“But- But I’ve repented. I know it’s wrong. And on the Day of Judgement, He’ll know. He’ll know that I’m truly sorry for- for what I am.”
Yoongi laughed at him, mockingly. “I hate it when you get like this. All that preacher bullshit.”
Jeongguk sits up to face Yoongi but he only turns away to stare out the window instead. Jeongguk tried to follow his direction but Yoongi just avoided him again.
“It’s not bullshit, hyung! It- It means a lot to me, okay? I- I know you don’t like it but it’s all I’ve ever known. And- And- Would you just fucking look at me?”
Yoongi finally returned his eye contact. His eyes are hazy. The pot he was smoking earlier is still eating away at him.
Jeongguk watches as he angrily puts out the cigarette into the ash tray Jeongguk had bought for him. It was in the shape of a heart. The paint was cracked and a piece of it was missing from the time Yoongi had thrown it at the wall just a few centimetres from Jeongguk’s head.
Jeongguk had picked it up from the floor that night, putting it back in its rightful place, and gone to bed, crying to himself. He had woken up to the smell of drugs and alcohol and saw Yoongi overdosed on the couch.
But that was in the past now.
“I need some air.”
Jeongguk watched as Yoongi turned his back on him, and picked up his shirt from last night, throwing it over his head before he opened the door to stand on the balcony.
Sitting on the bed, a heavy heart weighing down his chest, Jeongguk didn’t know what to do. He heard Yoongi curse under his breath and stared at him as he pushed his hair away from his face.
Yoongi didn’t return his gaze this time.
God was the only one he could turn to whenever his step dad had nearly killed him for looking at him the wrong way or speaking in a disrespectful tone. He even used God to get away from Yoongi sometimes.
Why did his hyung not give two fucks about what keeps him alive?
Jeongguk decided in order to be the better person, he would have to be the first to speak. God was watching.
He stood up, nearly tripping over his clothes on the floor from last night. He took a deep breath and prayed. He prayed Yoongi would come around, tell him how sorry he was and that he loves him. He prayed for the unthinkable.
Jeongguk threw on his own shirt and with shaky hands, he slid open the balcony door.
As soon as he was outside, he felt the cold breeze latch its teeth onto his body. Yoongi heard him scuffling behind him but chose not to acknowledge the noise. He just ignored Jeongguk as if he was something he could toss aside once he didn’t want him anymore, something he could pick back up, whisper sweet nothings to and put the broken pieces of his shattered body back together, like it was all meaningless.
Jeongguk was the first to speak, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Maybe, I didn’t think about how you felt about my religion. But it is dear to me. If you cared about me, even just a little bit, you’d respect my beliefs.”
Yoongi, ever so opinionated, scoffed at him. He refused to even glance at Jeongguk, as if he was a repulsive sight that was impossible to look at with the naked eye. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Jeongguk was taken aback. He knew Yoongi could be a dick and maybe unforgiving at times but Jeongguk felt hurt.
Yoongi isn’t always like this. Yoongi was gentle when he would kiss Jeongguk’s hair as he cried, Yoongi was funny when he would crack jokes for Jeongguk when he was in a bad mood. But above all, Yoongi was kind.
“What? Yoo- Hyung… I know you don’t mean that. Please, let’s just talk. Like normal people do.”
“Is that what we are? Normal? You make me sick, Jeongguk.”
Yoongi began walking towards him and Jeongguk tried to push away the fear creeping up his spine. When Yoongi got in these… Moods, as Jeongguk chose to call them, he would throw things, he would punch and kick and fight like there was a roaring blaze within him that needed putting out.
It always ended the same. Jeongguk would cry and plead with him to stop, stop trying to push him away. And Yoongi would kiss him on the mouth and press the pads of his thumbs to the tears slipping down his face. He’d whisper futile apologies and they’d make love.
“You- You’re being silly.” Jeongguk backed away from him until his back hit the wall, until Yoongi was standing in front of him, menacingly.
“I’m being silly? Okay, then.” Yoongi grabbed Jeongguk by the shoulders and shook him a little as if to make him see things clearly. “Jeongguk’s all perfect and sweet, the best little Christian boy. Stop with the little act, Jeongguk. Gays like you ain’t making it to heaven.”
The first tear fell from Jeongguk’s face. He brought a hand up and slapped Yoongi across the face to which he held his cheek, utterly astounded. “How dare you. How dare you mock my faith. It’s you. You’re the one who has corrupted me.”
Yoongi pulled his cross necklace out from under his shirt and pulled him by it, just enough for it to dig into his nape. “This. This is what’s corrupting you.”
He grabbed Jeongguk by his shirt and threw him to the floor, his head hitting the concrete. He felt blood seep down his temple and held his head. Everything hurt.
Jeongguk had been hurt by Yoongi before. Except he’d never laid a hand on Yoongi until now. He knew he had a lot of repenting to do.
“You’re nothing but a fucking leech.”
Yoongi got down to the floor, straddling Jeongguk where he lay on his back on the cold floor. The first strike across his cheek was harsh and rough. Yoongi was using him as a punching bag. It wasn’t new to him but it was still frightening.
The first time Yoongi had ever hit him was when Jeongguk had called him out for seeing a girl when he thought they were exclusive. Now, he realises, he was fucking delusional for thinking so. Yoongi had gotten worked up over something as simple as, “Why were you out with that girl?”
Something as simple as that, turned him into a raging man with immense fury.
All Jeongguk had done was comfort him after being punched, he’d kissed Yoongi’s face and apologised for being so dumb.
Yoongi didn’t let him speak, he just continued throwing punches across Jeongguk’s face until his nose was bleeding and his eyes were drowsy. Yoongi let him up for air for a moment and he inhaled deeply, his breaths harsh and loud as Yoongi sat on top of him, caging his body completely.
Once Yoongi had landed the last punch right into his nose, he heard a loud crack and an inexplainable pain in his gums. Jeongguk pushed Yoongi off of him with more power than he thought he even had.
He coughed, holding his chest. He coughed up all sorts of grotesque things. Looking down at the puddle of blood and saliva and the tooth Yoongi had just punched right out of his mouth, he felt an indescribable feeling of shame resting upon his shoulders.
There’s blood in his hair and all over his face. He probably looks a mess right now. Jeongguk’s cheek flushed red and Yoongi’s knuckles battered blue. Yoongi was panting at him like a dog with fresh meat for dinner.
Jeongguk brought a hand up, feeling around in his mouth for where the tooth had been wrongly removed from its rightful home. It was his front tooth. The same bunny tooth that Yoongi had once complimented and called cute. He turned around to look at Yoongi sadly.
He looked down at the tip of his finger, it was soaked in his blood. His knees dug into the hard ground. He was painted in bruises but he’s never known a life without a little pain.
What a naïve boy he is.
“You can’t keep doing this to me, hyung.”
“Don’t act like a bitch and I won’t treat you like one.”
Jeongguk looked back at him and Yoongi had something similar in his eyes to what he might label disgust. He felt disgusting.
“May God help you.”
“Fuck you. Fuck your fake ass God too.” Yoongi spat on the ground from where he was kneeling.
Jeongguk couldn’t even think before he realised he was launching on top of Yoongi and fighting against his stronger body as best as he could. He landed one punch on his face before he broke into a sob.
He couldn’t take the fighting anymore.
Yoongi lay on his back, staring up at something, past Jeongguk’s face.
They were both a bloody mess before they knew it. Yoongi’s lip was cut and they share matching bruises all over their fists.
Jeongguk stayed on top of Yoongi, his ass nestled on his lap. He cried out, covering his whines behind his hands, “Why don’t you love me?”
Yoongi whispered, “I do.”
“You don’t love me like you used to, hyung.”
Jeongguk cried more when Yoongi didn’t respond. “Why don’t you love me anymore?”
“Is it something that I did? I’ll- I’ll change! I promise, hyungie. Just- Just love me like you used to,” Jeongguk hiccuped.
“Stop crying. You know I hate it when you cry.”
Jeongguk hit his chest weakly, his energy being drained out of him, the longer he stays. His weak punches are abruptly stopped when Yoongi grabs him by his bony wrists and pulls him down to hold his body snug against his own.
Jeongguk’s body naturally curled into his hyung’s own, his cries muffled against Yoongi’s neck. “You’re just getting yourself all hot and bothered, crying like that, hm, baby?”
Jeongguk smacked his arm before grunting out, “I’m not your fucking baby. Let go of me.” Jeongguk struggled in Yoongi’s bruising grip, practically begging Yoongi to make things easier for him.
Jeongguk managed to sit up but Yoongi refused to remove the iron grip he had on his wrist. Jeongguk scratched and hit but Yoongi just wouldn’t leave him be. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Yoongi sat up too so that they were almost chest to chest, he grabbed Jeongguk’s other wrist in the same hand, holding them above his head as he trailed his other to grip onto his waist.
“You’re fucking hurting me!” Jeongguk squealed, thrashing against Yoongi’s grasp.
“Then, don’t fight.”
Jeongguk managed to break free from Yoongi by elbowing him in the face, he leapt up, his body aching as he ran for the door. Yoongi quickly shot up after him and grabbed him by his throat. He slammed Jeongguk’s frail body against the front door as if taunting him with the fact he was so close at leaving.
Jeongguk’s hands reached up and tightened around the ones controlling his every breath. He scratched at Yoongi’s hands, his eyes bloodshot and practically bulging out of his face. He slapped at the hands but they wouldn’t even budge.
”H-Hyungie…” He gasped.
Yoongi seemed to finally realise what he was doing and slowly loosened his grip around Jeongguk’s neck. Jeongguk held onto the door behind him for leverage but it only culminated in him sliding down it anyway.
Jeongguk’s harsh breaths filled the empty room. He inhaled painfully and coughed up blood from the back of his throat.
Yoongi watched as he sank to his knees on the hardwood floor. There was blood running down his nose and the patter of it sounded through the room, onto the ground every now and then.
Like a deer walking its first steps, Yoongi clumsily stumbled over to the couch and fell onto it, his arms resting over the back and his legs spread wide. Yoongi had nothing to fear yet Jeongguk noticed that his hands were shaking.
Jeongguk hugged his knees to his chest, trying to protect himself Yoongi’s evil spirit. He hid his face away from him and mumbled into his knees, “Why don’t you just kill me already, hyung?”
He looked up, his eyes red and wet with tears. There was mucus running down his top lip and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt. His nose was still bleeding. Whether it was the impact of Yoongi’s fist or the sleepless nights, Jeongguk didn’t really know.
Yoongi didn’t look too good himself. He was staring at nothing again.
He’d always told Jeongguk that zoning out was a bad habit of his but it seems kind of hypocritical now.
“Kill me, please. Please, hyungie. Kill me so I don’t have to do it myself. I don’t want to be any more of a sinner than I already am.”
“I’m not gonna fucking kill you, Jeongguk.”
“You seemed okay with the idea when you were at my throat though, didn’t you?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes at him and sighed, “Just… Stop talking.” He looked as if he was spiralling into insanity. “My head hurts.”
“Your head hurts? Poor you! Sad Yoongi’s fucking sad again! Have you seen me? You knocked my fucking tooth out!” Jeongguk pointed to his open mouth and grabbed one of the slippers by the door, throwing it at Yoongi in frustration. It just about missed him but Yoongi didn’t even flinch.
“I can’t even bear to look at you.”
The silence was deafening. Yoongi, man spreading on the couch and Jeongguk, sitting on the floor, curled into himself like he didn’t belong.
He’d read in the Bible that God was omnibenevolent. God was this, God was that.
If God was so loving, then why is Jeongguk still being treated like shit by his step dad whilst his mom stays silent? Why does he keep coming back here for more violence?
God’s not even helped him once. But he knows that one day, on the Day of Judgement, where He decides of Jeongguk’s everlasting home, He will get him out of this hell and bring him to paradise.
Yoongi’s coarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Would you come here, baby? Please.” He sounded desperate, like a dog pleading its owner.
In reality, it’s only ever been the other way around.
Jeongguk shook his head at him aggressively. More tears threatened to spill out of his eyes but he didn’t want to waste any more tears on this excuse of a man.
“Baby, please. You know I love you, baby. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Yoongi opened his arms and it took everything in Jeongguk to not leap right into them.
“Stop it.”
“I love you, Guk. I do love you, please. Would you just sit with me? Please, baby,” Yoongi replied, frantic, his hand more so smacking than patting the space next to him.
“You don’t love me,” He sighed before he continued, “You just think you do,” Jeongguk sniffled into his hands.
Yoongi’s voice broke as he began to speak again, “Please! I’m begging you, Jeongguk, please. Just- Just sit with me.”
Jeongguk looked up to see tears streaming down Yoongi’s face. Jeongguk had never seen him cry before. It was a sorry sight. Jeongguk couldn’t help but love him even more.
Hesitant, Jeongguk rose to his feet and swayed over to where Yoongi was sat. He sat down beside him, thighs almost touching.
This is what will get him killed.
Yoongi’s fingers ran up his thigh, feeling around for his hand. Once he’d found it, he intertwined their fingers, his thumb stroking across the back of Jeongguk’s hand. It stung because of the cuts all over his knuckles but he didn’t mind. As long as Yoongi was touching him, he’d probably allow anything.
However, Jeongguk’s hold on Yoongi’s hand was loose, like it could slip through the cracks any second.
“I know I did wrong, baby,” Yoongi dropped his head down to rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder, his cold nose teasing his neck.
Jeongguk looked down at their hands despondently and placed them in his lap, “Hyungie, you were so mean to me. Why do you keep doing it? Saying you’re sorry doesn’t make it any better, you know.”
Drawing his attention away from their hands, Jeongguk looked at the coffee table. There was a half full syringe sitting beside a belt and a spoon. On the other side of it were two empty bottles. His eyes trailed after a white powder that seemed to have travelled all the way to the floor.
Yoongi was still young. Why’s he doing this to himself?
Jeongguk read about a bird trapped in its cage once. A bird that had never been free in its life but when its owner had opened the cage door it chose to stay.
Jeongguk chose to stay too.
“I know. I mean it this time. It really won’t happen again.”
Jeongguk doesn’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth.
“Okay.”
Yoongi brought his other hand to rest at Jeongguk’s cheek, he peered at him from the place he rested his chin on his shoulder, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Even like this?” Jeongguk gritted his teeth and opened his mouth, showcasing the empty space between his teeth.
Yoongi peered up at him, a sly smile on his face, “Especially like this. Reminds me of when you were about twelve.”
It should’ve disgusted Jeongguk that Yoongi had enjoyed that he’d knocked his tooth out. It should’ve repulsed him that he liked it because it caused him to reminisce about when Jeongguk was a little boy. But it didn’t. It only made him crave for Yoongi that little bit more.
Jeongguk let out a wet laugh, “You’re all bloody.”
“So are you.”
Jeongguk huffed, “Can we just go to sleep, please?” His voice was quiet and his eyes were locked onto the man beside him as if he was some sort of magnetic force that allured desperate religious boys, who held onto hope, like Jeongguk.
Yoongi looked at Jeongguk and raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you wanna shower, baby?”
“No… I’m tired. Will you carry me?”
Yoongi stood up from the couch and lifted Jeongguk up by his waist as he wrapped his legs around Yoongi’s hips. Jeongguk nuzzled his face into Yoongi’s cheek as he patted his butt gently whilst carrying him to the bedroom.
Ever so slowly, Yoongi placed Jeongguk on the bed with caution. His actions earlier paling in comparison to the way Yoongi treated him with such care now. It was as if nothing had even happened.
Yoongi got into bed next to him and embraced Jeongguk’s body in a loose hold as if he knew he would never even think about leaving.
Jeongguk breathed him in; cigarettes, drugs, blood. It was addictive. Not only his scent but everything about Yoongi. His punches, his kisses, his cuddles. It was all turning into one huge blur.
Jeongguk was young and in love. Jeongguk was being lied to but couldn’t bring himself to care. Jeongguk was a sinner because he made love to someone of the same sex.
Jeongguk was going to hell.
♱