[A/N: Still running a fever and , so this is a short continuation only. So sorry - but I really just want you to hear the rest of the story!]

As I said, I really have no memory of what happened after he screamed. It’s all pretty hazy in my head and I don’t remember much until I found myself sitting in the living room, my father has just slapped me and he is currently pacing back and forth furiously shouting obscenities at me, telling me how much of a failure I am as a son, as a man, and how much he despises me and what I had just done “to that poor boy”, and my mother is sitting in the corner, crying hysterically and refusing to look at me. He punched me a few times while yelling, before he somehow managed to gather himself a bit and threw me into the piano room and locked the door. I hear him go over to my mother and began comforting her – and despite my situation I took the time to appreciate their love for each other and his concern for her wellbeing enough to set this aside for a short while to ensure she would be okay. Her sobbing was unstoppable, but he comforted her as best as he could – I couldn’t hear what they said through the door, but despite only being mumbling in my ears I recognised the sounds. After a while I hear my aunt join them, and knowing her and her knack for getting into other people’s business I was sure she had been over at Yixing’s house – I wanted to hammer my fists against the door, scream and shout and kick it down, and force her to tell me what she had found out. But I did nothing. I just sat there on the piano bench and waited for my verdict like a prisoner in holding. Soon enough the door was flung open and my father, though more composed by now, grabbed a hold of my hair and pulled me out of the room again. Finally my mother forced herself to glance at me before she spoke.
“You are no son of mine.” My insides, which I already felt twisting and turning, suddenly became as heavy as iron.
“You are filth.” Ice spread through my gut and slowly filled up every inch of me from the inside out.
“I want you out of this house. And I want you out immediately. You do not belong here. You don’t even deserve to live in the streets.” Her voice was so calm, to the point where is – despite the words – were almost a bit comforting.
“The only reason I am not ordering the end of your life is because I carried you in my womb, nursed you through sickness and cared for you for 15 years, and my efforts shall not be wasted like that.” And just like that the doors to what had been my life up until now closed with a loud bang, and I found myself alone and without a home.

---

Minseok turned around, his eyes huge, and I’m not sure he was really breathing.
“What?” I think his reaction was supposed to be strong, but the word was barely a whisper as he said it – pain evident in every tone and every letter voiced.
“How could they just do that to you? Did they not even bother to hear your side of the story? They just bought that brat’s accusations of ?” I had had a very long time to process these things, but to Minseok it was new, and because it so evidently hurt him to hear this I couldn’t help but raise my hand and his cheek. I knew he was kind and caring, but I didn’t expect his level of empathy to be quite this high, but I appreciated it all the more – it made him just that more perfect.
“I think they knew.” His eyes grew even wider and his mouth fell slightly open, but I explained before he could even ask.
“Just think about it – my cousins must have seen something before they alerted us of their presence. And honestly, with my obsessive behaviour in regards to him, with my room covered in his posters and other merchandise… The pieces must have finally fallen into place when they heard what we’d done. But I think it was easier for them just to go with his story than to have to accept that we were both gay.” His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he wanted to say something but continued to think about it instead.
“So then what did you do?”
“…The only thing I could think of.”

---

I didn’t really realise what I had done until I heard the doorbell ring and I found myself standing outside waiting. I heard someone run heavily down the stairs before the door was opened by my giant classmate. At first he was surprised to see me, but soon enough a bright smile spread across his face and once again I thought to myself that if it hadn’t been for Yixing, and if I’d only had some more time with him, I could definitely have fallen for Yifan. But before I could even begin to explain a lovely old woman suddenly appeared at his side.
“Well, who is this then,” she asked and smiled at me before she looked up at Yifan. She was really short and a little round, so the image of the two was incredibly adorable, and quite funny.
“Ah! Grandma, this is Luhan – Luhan, this is grandma.”
“Uhm, hello… eh, grandma…” I bowed politely and the old woman chuckled.
“Well, if the boy already calls me grandma, how about we invite him in, or what benben?”
“Grandma!”
“What?” She asked innocently.
“Benben?” I chuckled as his cheeks went pink before he stepped aside and let me in. I hadn’t really planned on meeting his family – truthfully I hadn’t really planned anything, I just sort of found myself here and didn’t know what to do next. The old lady explained that Yifan’s parents were still living in Canada, but they’d sent their son home to learn more about their home country and to let him get to know his family better, but then her husband passed away and now it was just the two of them. They had some family around the country, but it was hard to see them often when they had to work, go to school, keep the house orderly and keep up with activities – but she was glad she had her grandson around to help out. Apparently he was a strong and caring man who diligently did everything he was told – except to clean his room.
“Really grandma? After all that praising, you end it on such a bad note? Thank you very much, I’m sure my friend is very impressed.” I laughed.
“Impressed? Maybe a little… Amused? Most definitely,” I replied mockingly and he showed me his tongue in return.
“Oh pish. He knows you’re a good boy, otherwise he wouldn’t be here,” she commented.
“Now would you be a sweetheart and go make us some tea Yifan? My joints are aching and it’s a little too late for me to run around like that.”
“Sure,” he replied and shot up from his spot next to me on the couch and quickly moved into the kitchen. I turned and smiled at his grandmother who was staring after him with a warm smile on her face until she slowly turned to me.
“He’s such a good boy he makes me feel really bad for lying to him,” she said calmly as her face changed and her eyes met mine.
“You were as pale as a ghost when you arrived young man, you’ve hardly said a word but you’ve smiled and nodded and seemingly regained yourself a little. I see you’re not carrying any bag or cell phone or wallet – no means to get home or communicate with, that is. You clothes are also dirty and your face is somewhat swollen. You are troubled, my boy, and I want you to tell me all about it.” Her face was stern but kind and she stared at me directly. As she was talking, I had found myself becoming more and more uncomfortable and the panic had kept rising, but as we sat like that I suddenly got the courage I’d never had before, and somehow I just spilled my story.
“I was kicked out.” I began, not really sure if it was a good start or if it was leading to the right place.
“What for?” I gulped in as much air as I possibly could, and without thinking further about it, I confessed.
“For being gay.”
“Is that so,” she said, and a thoughtful expression appeared on her face, while I just nodded in return, keeping my eyes locked with hers.
“How did they find out?” Oh. I hadn’t prepared myself at all for explaining that – and definitely not to an old lady.
“They, uhm… Caught… us…” She sent me a sideways glance before she snickered.
“I see.” But before I could even react to her little laugh, Yifan appeared again carrying a tray with cups and a pot of tea.
“Yifan dear, I’ve found you a boyfriend at last! He’ll be living with is from now on,” she smiled at him and I hear the tray crash to the floor at the same speed as my jaw.
“What???”

---

As I stand before them I don’t feel as much sorrow as I feel relief. The four new crosses in the ground, next to the old one I placed here many years ago, makes me feel a little more content than anything else. It is finally over. They are gone, and I am free. I am finally free. The realisation hasn’t really struck home yet, but my shoulders feel lighter and I sort of already know. It feels good to see them in the ground, silent and lifeless – there was no sweeter relief for them than that. I’d been waiting for so long for this to happen I didn’t really feel the need to stay there for much longer. I kissed their respective crosses goodbye and began walking home, content with leaving them behind and forgetting all about them. It was my turn now – I was finally free and could do whatever I wanted. And it was just in time to apply to good school. I felt a smile spread on my face despite the tired state I was in, and I almost skipped down the pathway to my house. It was my house now, not ours. Not theirs. My house.
“Ahem,” I hear a woman’s voice behind me and I turn startled and bewildered. The woman is dressed in expensive clothes, her make-up is immaculate and her posture is amazing.
“Y-yes?” I reply and she lets her eyes glide over me in disgust. And that is when I recognise her. I haven’t seen her since I was three, and I honestly thought all memories of her were gone, but the look on her face – and how familiar her eyes felt, I realised.
“Where is your father and his wife,” she simply asked, but I found myself only staring at her in disbelief. Why was she here? What did she want?
“They’re gone,” I finally manage to say, not really wanting to reveal where I’ve buried their bodies.
“Do you know when they’ll be back? I have something for them.” I begin feeling angry at the sight of her. How dare she come back here and how dare she ask for my father after what she did? And how dare she do all that and not even bother to check if he is still alive or not. It wouldn’t have taken her long to find out he shot himself when I was 7. She’d probably even find out it was in the shed right there, only 10-15 feet away from where she was standing right now.
“Give it to me instead,” I growled. “I can take care of the rest.” She eyed me up and down a few times before she huffed.
“Very well,” she agreed, and out from behind her she pulls a young boy and pushes him towards me.
“This is your brother. Take care of him,” she simply said, got in the car behind her and left. I didn’t even have the strength to gather myself before she was gone, and so I just stood there and looked down and the boy. He was standing straight, with his hat in his hand and his gaze seemed glued to the ground. The anger built up in me, and the more I looked at him and the more I thought of her, the hotter with anger I became. And so I slapped him.
“DON’T YOU DARE FOLLOW ME,” I screamed and stomped inside the house, leaving him to himself.

The next morning I woke up to an unusually quiet house. It took me a minute to remember what I had done the day before and even longer before I remembered the boy. I immediately regretted hitting him. It wasn’t his fault she had suddenly showed up, and it wasn’t his fault she just left him here – if there was anything I could guess about the boy it was that he had no idea what was going on at all. I huffed and got out of bed, went downstairs and made myself some breakfast. I didn’t have time to worry about that sort of thing – the application forms for schools had to be handed in at the end of the week and I had yet to finish one, so I had to get down to the library today. I finished my meal, and got ready – washed myself, put on clean clothes, put on my shoes, grabbed the garbage and exited the house, but I froze in my steps. Right there, in the middle of our driveway, the boy was still standing, his posture straight, his eyes glued to the ground and his hat in his hands, while it was raining. I ran over to him in sheer panic, dropping the garbage immediately and picked him up – as I ran inside the house carrying him I noticed the dry spot on the ground where he had been standing and I barely had time to wonder if he’d been standing still all night waiting for someone to come get him where he had been left, before his cold arms moved up around my neck and he hugged himself tightly against me and I desperately sped up so I could get him out of his wet clothes before he got sick.

EDIT: 
I just thought I should mention that I've decided that whoever becomes subscriber #100 will get to request a one-shot from me - any pairing, any sort of story - if they want it. Just as a small thank you :3