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"Where have you been?"
"F-father -"
"Don't use that tone on me and answer my damn question!" The glass broke to pieces against the wall beside Namjoon, some of the beverage and a few chunks of glass spraying over him. He could faintly smell the alcohol from the drink. He didn't flinch, though - he had learned his lesson of flinching the hard way just a few months ago.
"I - I had detention -"
A huff escaped the lips of Mr. Kim as he stumbled forward and closer to Namjoon, nearly tripping over his feet if it weren't for the man catching himself just before he would fall.
"Why're you always such a fucking troublemaker," Mr. Kim hissed, unfocused eyes glaring at Namjoon. "Imagine how your mother would feel if she were to see you now. Imagine how disappointed she would be!"
"It wasn't my fault," Namjoon mumbled, looking down and forcing the tears to stay hidden behind his eyelids, knowing damn well that he couldn't cry in front of his father without getting a beating. "Someone blamed me for it."
"It wasn't my fault," Mr. Kim imitated Namjoon. "It's never your fault but look at what you've caused! You're a fucking disgrace, I wish you were never born into my life! You're the reason she is dead!"
"It wasn't me!" Namjoon yelled, almost breaking down right then and there. He knew how much his mother loved him. "It was you! You slept around with other women behind her back! You caused her to keep her cancer a secret from you! If you hadn't been so oblivious, you would've noticed the hair falling off her head! You would've noticed the ill darkness hiding in her eyes!"
The slap to his cheek stung.
Light filtered through Namjoon's closed eyelids, waking him from his sleep. He didn't want to wake up yet - his cheek still hurt, and he had a slight headache that became worse when he moved his head to a more comfortable position.
When he opened his eyes, though, he was met with the undeniably beautiful face of his friend - and only friend - Kim Seokjin (though you could practically call them boyfriends, as almost everyone at their school had seen their secretly shared kissed and quick hugs in abandoned hallways).
"Morning," Seokjin's fingers fiddled with Namjoon's brown locks as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss against the younger's lips. "How are you feeling?"
"Alright," Namjoon mumbled against his lover's lips. "My cheek hurts. How'd you know?"
"That he was drunk again?" Seokjin asked, cradling the younger's head in his lap. Namjoon nodded. "I just felt like something was off - besides, I know how he gets when you're home late."
Namjoon averted his eyes to the older boy's room, not wanting to look at the hurting face of his best friend - boyfriend? - but instead focusing on the poster of some American rock band on the wall.
"Joon, you can't keep living like this." Said Seokjin finally, but Namjoon didn't look up, letting silence claw at them again. "He's not treating you like how a father should treat his son." More silence. "Mom called the police."
"What?" Namjoon shot up, ignoring the pain exploding inside his skull as he looked at Seokjin with wide eyes. "Why?"
"Because she's worried," said Seokjin. "She's seen how you always look when you have to go home again - she knows about his abusiveness, Joon. She's worried. I'm worried."
"You don't have to worry." Namjoon mumbled, wanting to climb out of the bed but being locked in place by Seokjin's arms wrapping around his waste.
"People worry about the ones they love." Seokjin's lips grazed Namjoon's neck with every word he spoke, and Namjoon felt his heart break when a tear dropped onto his shoulder, wetting his shirt.
Gulping down the lump in his throat, Namjoon turned in Seokjin's lap to slip his arms around the older boy's neck, feeling tears well up in the corners of his eyes, too. He hated seeing the boy he loved cry. He hated it.
"Please don't cry," Namjoon's voice was muffled as buried his face in the crook of the older boy's neck. "I - I'm sorry -"
"It's not your fault." His father said otherwise last night. "It's him that should be blamed."
"I know, it's just - I can't. . . Not after she left."
"I know it's difficult." Seokjin pulled back to look at Namjoon, gently stroking the younger's cheek with his thumb, wiping a few tears from his eyes. He used his other hand to gently tuck a tuft of Namjoon's soft brown hair behind his ear. "But this is best - she wouldn't want you to live in pain either. And - I'm so scared that one day you won't answer my calls and I'll come into your room to see you on the floor, not breathing. I'm scared that he'll take you away from me - kill you by accident."
Namjoon felt another lump form in his throat and, not able to say anything, he leaned forward, cupped Seokjin's cheeks, and crashed their lips together, as if it would be their last kiss.
He felt the older boy melt into his touch, one hand traveling to tangle in Namjoon's hair while the other rested on his hip. Namjoon didn't move his hands - he didn't feel the need to do so. Instead, he scooted ever closer, legs wrapping around the older's waist.
Namjoon pulled back briefly to nibble at Seokjin's bottom lip before clashing their lips together again, a warm, tingling sensation growing inside his chest.
"Please don't ever leave me," Seokjin mumbled against Namjoon's lips, tears drying against his warm cheeks.
"I won't." Namjoon answered softly, giving those soft, pink lips a quick peck.
"Promise?" Seokjin asked.
"Promise."
In the end, Namjoon's father had been sent to jail after accusation of child abuse and alcohol and drug abuse - much to the surprise of Namjoon. He didn't feel pity one bit when his father looked him pleadingly in the eyes before getting handcuffed and sent off the court and to jail.
It had taken Seokjin a long time to convince his mother to let Namjoon live in their house, and eventually Mrs. Kim gave in to her son's pleading eyes, giving a small nod that had sent Seokjin up to his room - where Namjoon had been hiding out for a long time now - and telling him the exciting news before pulling him into a long make-out session (which might've led to more than just that, after Mr. and Mrs. Kim had left the house to a business meeting).
By then, Namjoon had promised to help as much as he could and that he would get a job to help pay for anything he needed to pay for. It had only taken him a few days to find a decent-paying job at a local grocery store, and he had also managed to get all the stuff he wanted to keep to Seokjin's house before the government would take it and sell it to someone else.
After a few days, Namjoon had begun to fit in perfectly with the Kim's household. He woke up, got ready for school, left with Seokjin, would come back home, do his homework and help out with chores of needed, eat dinner, and finally have some free time before going to bed - most of his free time being spent with Seokjin.
"Hey Joonie?" Seokjin's voice broke through Namjoon's ears, sounding tired and small.
"Yes?" Namjoon turned around, his head still resting on Seokjin's bicep, and looked at Seokjin.
"I love you."
"I love you too." Namjoon smiled as Seokjin reached out, brushing his fingertips over the younger's cheek.
"I mean it. I love you."
"I know," Namjoon giggled lightly, leaning forward and pecking his boyfriend's lips. "And I mean it when I tell you that I love you too."
Seokjin smiled back at Namjoon before pressing his nose into the younger boy's hair, and soon after Namjoon heard his breaths even out and deepening. He rose his head lightly to look at his sleeping boyfriend before pecking his lips one more time.
"I love you too." Namjoon said once more, before he softly dropped his head back on Seokjin's bicep, eyes drooping before closing completely, his breaths, too, evening out.
That night, Mrs. Kim might've opened the door to see her son and the newest addition to their household sleeping soundly, hand tightly clamped together between them.
Because after all, Namjoon had kept his promise.