ONE SHOTS!Jorbyn

13|Jorbyn|TFWAFUP

TYPE: sAd/fLoOf
REQUESTED: nupe
WARNING: mentions of overdosing, suicide, swearing, age gap(it is legal)
EXTRA: don't read if any of the above disturbs you and if you ever need anyone to talk too, I'm here for ya. There's always another way so don't cut down the flower that has yet to bloom.
FULL TITLE: Two Fuckers With A Fucked Up Past
WORD COUNT: 807

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He was getting better. The son of a bitch actually helped him. It surprised him at first.

"How the fuck is a therapist supposed to help me?" Corbyn had growled at his mother.

"People do understand, Corbyn. You just gotta find them." Was how she responded. And that's how Corbyn ended up meeting Jonah. The fucker was helping him.

Jonah has made sure Corbyn was cut and overdose free for almost six months now. It was a fucking miracle. Saskia was grateful for it too. She knew why Corbyn was the way he is. When Corbyn was fourteen, his father had left the family and they ended up finding his body a couple months later.

Ray had pumped himself full of drugs and OD'd. Corbyn was wrecked after that. He started cut, he didn't talk to anyone about what was wrong, he just shut everyone out.

But the he met Jonah Frantzich. The twenty-nine year old fucker got Corbyn to open up. After three years of keeping it in, Jonah got him to spill.

Corbyn hated how he did it so willingly. He hated how he just rolled over and showed his belly to Jonah.* Its not that Corbyn didn't want to open up, he just had trouble finding someone who would understand. And Jonah truly did.

He lost his father to war when he was twelve and was never the same. He didn't act like his step dad was his father. he just simply didn't accept his step father. Corbyn was relieved to hear someone knew.

He spilled about he depended on his father, but once he was gone, he never bonded with another male ever. Until Jonah.

Saskia was always telling Jonah about how Corbyn had been more open, more kind, and actually seemed to care. His grades raised tremendously in his last couple years of high school.

Corbyn was happy for once. He was grateful for Jonah. He thought he could stop seeing Jonah for now. He felt better and told Jonah he'd be back if he need to be back.

And right now, he did.

He had called Jonah with shaky hands. He had seen him the very next day. Corbyn just sobbed for most of the time and Jonah rubbed his back.

"Sh-She's gone." The eighteen year old sobbed. Jonah tipped his chin up.

"Who is?" Jonah asked calmly and he saw Corbyn's eyes fill with tears again.

"M-My mom." Jonah's heart cracked.

"I'm sorry, babe." Babe was a nickname the boys had thought of when Corbyn first started. Corbyn was content when he heard the name. Corbyn slowly calmed and then they talked. Jonah had talked a couple minutes past his normal time then they set up another appointment.

"I'll see you next week, Corb. Here's my number if you ever need me." Corbyn nodded and left the office. Jonah lived the boy. That was the simplicity of it, but he pushed all thoughts of him from his mind as he worked with his next patient.

Corbyn had called him crying one night. It was five days before his next appointment.

"I can't do it, Jonah! I can't fucking do it!" Corbyn yelled and stared at himself.

"But you can. Yes, its hard, I know how it feels."

"How could you know?" Corbyn asked with venom. He heard Jonah sigh.

"I lost my mother when I was five. She had been the kindest woman ever, but then one night she just got up and left. I have no idea where she is, or if she's even alive." He does know. "I know how you feel, Corbyn, but if you hold on now, things will get brighter. I promise."

And they did.

Corbyn was smiling again. After three weeks of talking and visiting Jonah, he stopped being his patient. Jonah had been concerned when Corbyn wanted him to stop counseling him. But when he saw what Corbyn was getting at, he complied.

The two got even closer and Corbyn was soon living with the thirty-one year old. The twenty-one year old blonde couldn't have been happier. There was so much darkness in his life, but who knew some fucker who had just as much of a fucked past as you do could help you and your fucking demons?

[A/N]
*- to roll over and show your stomach to someone if basically telling them 'you own me' or 'I surrender to you'