Warning: Triggering.

 

Jiyong looked up at the house through the dirty windshield of the SUV(that just ten minutes ago had Jiyong nagging) to see a one story house; spacious, but very lonely looking. The place had easily four rooms, but Jiyong would bet there were five, enough for a bigger family. Jiyong wondered, how many people were in Seunghyun's family? Three? Four?

 

The engine stopped, making Jiyong snap out of his surprise. Even he didn't know why, but he expected different. What kind of different, he really didn't know, but he did know that there was something he didn't expect about the brown house in front of him. Slowly, Jiyong shuffled out of the car, meeting Seunghyun halfway at the hood to grab his pant's pocket, knocking away the hand outstretched completely. It made Seunghyun laugh as he walked over to the front door, forced the key in the lock, and slammed the door with his foot once before pushing open and ripping out the key in the obviously-old door.

 

The first thing Jiyong saw was the living room, slightly disorganized from the multiple items strewn across but not on the actual floor. The couch was on the wall next to him, facing an old, but large television with a coffee table in the middle, and another couch on the side wall. Definitely for a larger family like Jiyong presumed. There was a shoe by the television as if someone had thrown it, magazines covered the table with a few empty plates, and there was laundry that was half folded on the couch. It wasn't much, so presumably everyone did their own laundry. Wait, why was he paying so much attention to these details?

 

Seunghyun took off his shoes, watching Jiyong until he did so too, before turning down the hallway on the left of them to many doors. On the third door, he pushed it open and walked inside to take a seat on his bed, while Jiyong stood in the doorway, looking at the room. In front of him was a large window that saw the street, the blinds were up to reveal the black road ahead. To the right, pushed up against a wall, was a single bed strewn with at least five blankets and three pillows, with a small bedside table complete with an alarm clock and a book that was almost done next to it. The only other thing in the room besides the closet was a large, black desk that had a computer, notebooks that had pages falling out, and a lot of chewed and some broken pencils. 

 

Jiyong looked at the man in front of him, unsure of what he wanted to do, but he walked over when Seunghyun motioned him closer after that male had discarded his thick jacket. When Jiyong made it to the middle of the room to face Seunghyun, arms wrapped around him waist and pulled him onto the lap of the older boy whose warm breath caressed his neck, immediately calming him from the paranoia of being in this house.

 

"Shouldn't you be checking out your neck? You could've gotten your throat slit!" Jiyong said, pulling sideways to look at the ripped linen across the other's colorbone. His bony hand took hold of the torn shirt, gently examining it before letting his hands fall to his lap. The skin under the fabric was probably light pink from the blade, but it would just look like a nail had scratched over it, already fading. Seunghyun's strange body temperture saved his life because that second layed kept him from needing medical attention.

 

Seunghyun pulled Jiyong over, setting him on the bedspace next to him, the opposite side with the pillows. "Ouch," he grumbled, looking unhappily at his knee that was just occupied by Jiyong a second before. Apaprently it was bruised and Jiyong's weight was a little to much for him, even if it wasn't that much at all. "I'm fine, aren't I? You act like I've never fought before."

 

"Wait, you have?" 

 

Seunghyun sighed. "Every day probably. Sometimes with my hyung, others with my appa. Usually it's because Jung Ho is either bullying the hell out of me, or one of them is saying things to umma that get me riled up, and trust me,they are much more dangerous than Siwon could be."

 

Jiyong chewed his lip, unsure. At first he wanted to ask, what kind of things happened, but he held it back because he was unsure if he could handle another homophobic father or a verbal abuser father if it came to that. "You never know,Tabi," he said with a small grin, the name seemed to make him happy when he needed it. Seunghyun wanted to pinch his cheeks at the childlike factor of his boyfriend because it was on of the best things he had even seen and would never grow tired of it. 

 

"That could be true. You of all people should know,hmm."  Seunghyun stood up, walking over to the mirror next to his closet so he could assess the damage to his shirt. The first one was ripped clean through to the point that it was showing the white undershirt with it’s stretched, but just barely untorn threads. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, grinning lightly. “So I don’t seem to have my throat slit or anything Jiyong. Am I safe to sit down now? I have to admit, I do feel like a giant bruise.” 

 

Jiyong gave a glare, throwing the nearest object at Seunghyun. The pillow didn’t have any affect as the older laughed and charged through it, grabbing Jiyong’s hands and kissing him hard on his bitten lips. “Yah! Get away from me!” He laughed, fighting away from Seunghyun who was now kissing his cheek in reply to the orders that were weak with giggles. “Stop it. You’re in trouble!”  

 

There was a deep laugh as Seunghyun looked in Jiyong’s eyes and said,”And that’s stopped me before, when?” 

 

Seunghyun laughed, letting go of Jiyong to stretch and sit on the bed sideways, one leg bent on the bed while the other hung off and rested on the plush carpet. It got quiet after that. Quiet enough to hear even a person walking down the road outside. Seunghyun let out a long breath before something touched his face. When he turned, he saw Jiyong looking hesitant, but thoughtful as his fingers traced the outline of his jaw. Jiyong's hand left Seunghyun's cheek tingling before there was a deep breath and his hands moving to his jacket. For a moment, Seunghyun's breath caught in his throat because honestly, he was scared. 

 

Jiyong said he would do it, so he would, even if he did it slower than most people would. It had been a little over a month that Jiyong had known Seunghyun, and he'd already got this far, course most of that was from their knowing eachother as children. How did Seunghyun come in and change everything? What had started out as a crush blossomed into a full blown relationship that had so many downs, but the most beautiful ups. It was crazy, and ragged, but perfect, and neither of them would change it for the world. 

 

Seunghyun took Jiyong's cheek in his hand as he laid his lips on the latter's gently, a sign at reassurance when Jiyong had the shoulders of his jacket off and the zipper down. Jiyong completely paused, kissing back in full passion, before he opened his eyes and brought down the item of clothing he'd found refuge in for the length of Siwon's abuse, and when he confidence first fell which was actually a year before Siwon entered his life. Jiyong brought his hands up, hiding his arms against his chest, and he felt incredibly embarrassed. "Do you have sweats I can borrow,hyung?"

 

For a moment, Seunghyun was curious, but it occured to him that Jiyong must have cut his leg before, higher than where he had recently. "Yeah, sure. I think I have a pair that're too small for me," he said, hopping up to head towards the closet. After an inspection of the clothes, he pulled out a pair of grey, pocketed excersise pants and held them out to Jiyong. "If you want to use the bathroom, it's the first door in the hallway," he added.

 

Jiyong nodded and slipped out of the room to the bathroom, leaving Seunghyun to his thoughts that felt like maggets on a dead carcass. His hands scraped into his hair, his eyes closing in relishment. His whole body felt like an infected scar with dirt sticking to many surfaces of his clothes for the sole purpose of making a bigger and uglier infection. He reopened his closet and switched both of his shirts for the dark red Adidas sweatshirt that happened to be the first thing he had grabbed. As he made to sit back on his bed a few moments later, the door pulled open, and Seunghyun's eyes immediatly widened. His eyes were looking at a battle zone. It was enough to make him feel physically ill.

 

Jiyong's hands were at his face, and he'd tucked his shirt into the tied waistband to show how really skinny he was. Was he even a healthy weight? Clearly the boy wore layers of clothes and baggy ones too. After a moment of that, he raised his arms and held them palm out showing off his wrists in the light of Seunghyun's room. Some were really, crazy smooth, while others were very rough and jagged, obviously switching between a smooth blade and a rougher one. Jiyong turned around afterwards with his arms still up, almost looking like a criminal. Seunghyun saw he had scars on the top of his arms and on the insides of his legs along with a sickeningly infected, yellow sideways cut from his knee to mid-shin. By the time Jiyong had turned around fully and put his arms down, Seunghyun was almost too broken to say a word. 

 

"H..How...How many.." There was too much constriction in his throat for him to be able to force out a word, and for a moment, Jiyong was frozen by the face of Seunghyun. His eyes wide, and his hand across his mouth as he slouched forward with his weight leaning onto his knees. For once, his smooth and self controlled brown eyes were full of haywire and chaos. They were full of pain. 

 

"Around...one hundred?" He choked, feeling like he was ready to just end everything right then and there. The most humiliating thing is when people knew, but it got worse when people saw. Jiyong couldn't even fathom how he was going to school monday, after what Siwon had pulled. 

 

Jiyong's face contorted into an awkward frown, his arms pulled across his chest, feeling humiliated and violated. This wasn't a good idea. This wasn't anything logical either. This was something that was only done because this was the reason Jiyong fought with Seunghyun, and he hoped this could be a way to make amends. Jiyong's eyes shifted around the room, not staying still for fear of having to continue looking at Seunghyun's horrified face. He even managed to ignore the sound of feet against the carpet. 

 

There was a possessive, growling noise from deep within Seunghyun's chest. His hands grabbed Jiyong's waist and pulled it toward his own, getting a yelp from the latter, so he could kiss so forcefully he was making Jiyong's back arch. In response, Jiyong put his arms to his boyfriend's shoulder blades, taking the opportunity to grip the large sweatshirt until it was wrinkling in his hands to keep from falling backward. Hah, as if he would with the way Seunghyun was holding him. When Seunghyun pulled away, his face had no sign of happiness, or humor, or anything. It was blank.

 

His gaze shifted to the multiple, some long faded, and some rather new, scars that ran from Jiyong's wrist to his elbow, and he put one of the hands that had caused all that pain to the beautiful body to his face and held it there a moment. "I don't ever want you to have to feel like you are going to do this again. It's such a shame to mess up such a perfect body." And once he said that, he kissed Jiyong's wrist, and then the other, and then the boys face again. 

 

Jiyong felt warmth. He felt security. But more than anything else, he felt like was going to be helped. There was the feeling of, hey, someone wants to watch out for me. Seunghyun wanted to protect his jagiya, while Jiyong wanted to help Seunghyun stand up tall with pride. In that way, they were absoloutely perfect for eachother. They balanced eachother out as Jiyong could give Seunghyun strength, while Seunghyun could hold up Jiyong.  It almost seemed too perfect, and maybe it was, but that's okay.

 

Seunghyun picked up Jiyong, startling the boy yet again and spinning him in a circle, making him yell threats until he was on his feet. It made Seunghyun smile lightly before he dragged the boy to his bed, laid him down, and kissed his forhead. Jiyong looked up confused, holding out his arms to the other, fear of being rejected played his mind even though he didn't think it would happen. It was there, telling him he wasn't good enough, and that this was pity, or some sick joke. But Seunghyun laid down next to the boy, cradling him to his bruised and overly worn out body. Jiyong felt happiness in the way Seunghyun gently rolled his hand up and down Jiyong's arm, and the way he took Jiyong's hand after he found a decent channel they both enjoyed on the television. 

 

"Jagiya?"

 

The younger mumbled something in response as he tilted his head up to look at the other. "Hum?"

 

"Next time you feel like...doing this," his eyes were icy slates on the others bare arms, "will you call me instead? And everytime you don't, I want you to show me what you've done because-"

 

"I know why. It's unhealthy. It's gross. It's everything a person shouldn't do, and I don't know why I do it, sometimes I'm not even upset. I realized that it's hard to stop an addiction when you can't escape the biggest trigger, yourself. I don't want to be like this anymore,Seunghyunnie-yah. I want to be normal, and not have to worry about what I look like. It doesn't help anything." 

 

Seunghyun nodded, his face contricted like he was holding back bile, but he regained his courage and responded before he could change his overly working mind. "I'm not going to let you hurt yourself anymore." He promised when they were children that he wouldn't let him get hurt, and since he had been severly lacking on that promise, he was going to make up for it tenfold because there was no way he was going to lose this. Even if he lost his relationship with Jiyong, he would never let someone take away the person, and that was the only thing he'd ever taken this seriously.

 

When Seunghyun fell in love, he planned to fall so hard that he'd lose his reason, and he already had.

 

Was Seunghyun in love? Well, he'd already done some pretty crazy things. Not to mention Jiyong breaking all of his walls. Higher feelings were definitely in place.