Pretty Pretty Boyfriend [DISCONTINUED]

5

"Mm, so my mom sent you?" He asked as he shuffled with the sheets having to shake it a bit to set it upon his lazy limbs.

Jimin nodded almost feverishly. "Yeah! She did." Yoongi nodded at his words and licked his chapped lips.

He slid himself further into the bed. His toes deep inside the blanket as he craned his neck to take a look at his beloved friend.

"How did you understand a single word she said?" Jimin chuckled lightly as he walked over to where Yoongi was at. He sat down at the edge of the bed and sighed.

His hands clenched together as if something precious was at his palm, but there wasn't. "I know English, dummy," he watched as Yoongi's expression contorted, "Thats how i was able to communicate with her."

Yoongi had his hands balled up with the blanket between, slowly, he let go, "Why didn't I know this before?"

The small television that was blasting music seemed to dull down, "We kinda just met."

"Two years doesn't classify as 'just met' to me." Yoongi clarified as he cracked his knuckles; a habit that's been growing worse everyday.

Jimin shrugged, "Compared to the amount of time you've known Jungcock, it does."

Yoongi giggled, "Aw, how cute. You have a nickname for him."

"I don't like Jungkook, nor will I ever," Jimin kicked his feet lightly, the tips of his shoes barely gracing the floor as the bed was quite high (Or he was just quite short.)

Again, the television dulled further, "You two would make a cute couple." Yoongi piped up, "Kind of like a love hate relationship."

"Yeah, a love hate relationship, excluding the love." Jimin mocked, "Why're you even suggesting I pair up with him? I'm not gay, Yoongi."

The latter smiled, "Okay, good. We're on the topic of homosexuality." He let out a small puff of hair that he has been holding in.

"How is that good? Or relevant?" Jimin moved closer to Yoongi who let out a deep chuckle.

He looked up, his bangs were fairly long and reached covered his eyelids, "I can kinda feel it; you're dying to know how I got here, right?"

"Not exactly to that extent. But, right, I'm curious." Jimin cleared up as he stood briefly to stretch, his abdomen was now visible thanks to his shirt slowly rising up.

Jimin couldn't feel the pair of eyes examining his body, and Yoongi was quite glad too. He felt his cheeks burn up lightly before ducking his head in disappointment.

"You haven't met my dad, have you?" Yoongi asked softly as he avoided contact with Jimin for a bit.

Chewing his lip, Jimin responded, "No, I haven't. But you're making me curious again."

"He put me here." Jimin's eyes darted to the bed. His gaze lingered there for a few minutes before nodded, "Ah. How caring of him."

Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed, he was a bit ticked off seeing as Jimin misunderstood what he said, "No, Jimin. Not like that."

"Then how?" His hands gripped the small wooden stick and began to twist it. The blinds negaba to open up, allowing more sun in.

Yoongi flinched at the sudden warmth which the sun was giving him. It felt like Mother Nature herself was kneeling beside the sick boy, and began pressing her soft lips against his skin.

The he basked in the sensation briefly before his eyes slowly opened. "It feels nice."

"Vitamin D." Jimin smiled cheekily, "You're too pale. You need some color."

Yoongi relished in the feel a little longer before exhaling a bit too intense for his own body to handle. Before he knew it, his lungs began to itch and he started to cough violently.

Jimin let go of the stick and rushed to Yoongi's side. At first he concluded that, perhaps, the reason he had the light off was because it harmed him, but after a few minutes Yoongi was silent.

He smiled at the younger, "Sorry about that. He really fucked me up." Yoongi smiled and laughed it off, as if he just said wasn't all too important.

Jimin glared at him momentarily, "Who did?"

Yoongi let out a dry chuckle, "My dad." He whispered softly as he dipped his head down and looked at his wrists; bruises scattered around, and some where in the shape of handprints. Signifying that someone has harassed him.

"He hurt me." Yoongi croaked out, he found it a little hard to breathe again, probably just a relapse from earlier, "It hurt so bad. And-" He shuddered, "He Just, hurt me, y'know?"

"No. I don't know." Jimin whispered. "I'm so sorry for what you've gone through, and I'm sorry I can't relate." He paused as he looked at his current position. Just a while ago, he was standing, and a bit away from

Yoongi. Now he was literally on the bed, next to the frail man, and was almost spooning him. Almost.

"I didn't expect you to." Yoongi breathed out.

Jimin lifted himself up, "Why'd you add 'y'know' at the end, then?"

Yoongi shrugged, "Okay, I lied. I kinda did expect for you to relate."

"Why's that?" His arm was bent, he was on his side, turned to Yoongi as his hand carried his head. His free hand was wandering over the covers that hugged Yoongi's thin frame.

The elder blinked, "You look so dead when you come to school. I kinda assumed you had family issues."

"Family issues, Yeah. But it's not all too bad." Jimin reassured, "So. Mind telling me why he did this to you?"

"Yeah. Sure." Yoongi got up and say himself upright on the bed, "Promise me when I tell you, you won't hate me, okay?"

Unsurely, Jimin nodded. "And, if you do hate me, please avoid me. At the very least. I don't want more hate coming to me."

"I would never hate you."

Yoongi drew in a deep breath, "I'm gay." 

WHY DIDNT nyoND TELL ME IT WAS FUXKED UP