Chanyeol turns off the light when he steps into the dorm, already washed up and ready for bed. Jongin moves to give him space when he crawls into bed and under the too small duvet. He smiles a little into the kiss before pulling away and watching Chanyeol try to find the right position they can both sleep into without him falling off the too thin bed.
Chanyeol turns to face him with a bit of difficulty and rests his head in his palm as he stares at Jongin. “Should we join Yixing’s bed with ours?” Yixing had been nice enough to let them use his bed– as long as they use their own bed sheets and don’t have or eat on it.
“No,” Jongin shakes his head. The bed is too thin and any other day he’d gladly help with joining the beds together– he just wants to be pressed against Chanyeol because they have no choice but to hold each other even though it can get overwhelmingly hot during most nights, but he doesn’t complain about it and neither does Chanyeol. “I’m okay like this,”
Changes have been minimal so far and sometimes he wonders how long he can keep this up before he has to tell the truth– their relationship is long distance and at least they get to see each other every weekend– his parents only allow this because he’s the second best in his class and is the class president; as long as his grades aren’t bothered and he helps them with the shop after school on the weekdays, his parents don’t mind him being away.
He thinks– or tries not to think about– what his parents will do when and if they find out. Will they kick him out? Verbally attack him? Will his mother cry when she knows? What about his father?
He thinks about his relationship with Chanyeol and how different it is now compared to half a year ago– back when they lived in the same town and when he had Chanyeol’s attention–, but Chanyeol is in university now and he spends less time staring at his phone or laptop and more time staring at his textbooks and trying to keep his grades above average because any grade lower than what’s required, you’re going to get the boot if you don’t make up for it.
“I can hear you,” Chanyeol says out of the blue and Jongin turns towards to face him– it’s dark and the dimly lit lamp on Chanyeol’s desk is their only source of light. “Stop thinking so much,” Chanyeol’s staring at him with furrowed brows. “Is this about earlier today?”
Jongin blinks at him, shakes his head slowly before sighing and resting his head on the same pillow.
“Sorry,” He meets his eyes– his face looks sleepy and tired, but his eyes brighten when he smiles at him, “I was getting tired of my hands and it got to me.” He laughs a bit and Jongin smiles back, “And you wouldn’t tell me what the problem was.”
Jongin’s smile falters and he turns his eyes to stare at the lamp behind Chanyeol before looking back at him, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
They slow down when the station comes into view. Chanyeol’s hand wrapped warmly and firmly around his and Jongin’s arm is around his waist. Normally, he shies away from being touched in public because people tend stare at lot– people stare at couples too much and for too long and it can get embarrassing.
“You don’t have to leave so early,” Chanyeol breaks the silence.
“Yeah,” Jongin shrugs because it’s not early at all, it's 6 p.m. and the train that has yet to come is the last one for today. His mother is already demanding to know where he is and called earlier screaming about it’s Monday tomorrow. Why aren't you home yet? “Mum called– you heard how loud she was.”
“Ah,” Chanyeol says, “Wish I had a car. I would drive you there myself and pick you up whenever,” He releases Jongin hand and wraps his long arm around his shoulders, pulling him closet and kissing his temple.
“But the thing truth is that you’re a cliché university student who likes to eat ramen every day,” Jongin states as they hop down the stairs, still clinging onto each other and not willing to let go. “That’s not very healthy, you know.”
“I’m not a nutritionist. I’m a dental–” Jongin cuts him off.
“You don’t have to be one to know; it’s common sense.” He says, puffing his cheeks once they reach the bottom of the stairs and walk underground towards the railway lines. A few people are occupying the benches and some are standing behind the yellow lines. “Common sense, Chanyeol,” He repeats as he looks up at him, Jongin rolls his eyes when he sees Chanyeol smiling down at him.
“Says the one who barely ate,” Chanyeol retorts lightly and Jongin halts his movements for a second.
He’s not hungry and hasn’t been hungry for days. “Told you I’m not hungry,” They both stop behind the yellow line, Chanyeol turns him around to stare at him and placing a kiss between his eyes before holding him tightly.
“Eat a lot when you get home,” He whispers and Jongin nods against his shoulder, “I can’t focus on school if I’m constantly worrying about you,” His fingers are in Jongin’s hair and caressing his already tousled and making his thick dark locks look even worse.
“Yeah,” Jongin murmurs as he leans into him and snakes his arms around Chanyeol’s waist again. He sighs into his shoulder, his brows are furrowed as he looks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and stares at nothing.
They stay that way in silence until the train arrives: he lets himself cling to Chanyeol for a few moments before letting go, bringing his head down to kiss him and pulling away quickly. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?”
Chanyeol stuffs his hands into his pockets with the same dejected look he has every single time Jongin has to leave. Jongin wants to stay with him a little longer, but to avoid problems with his parents he turns around after hugging Chanyeol again and spins around to enter the train.
He doesn’t look back because looking back makes leaving Chanyeol’s side hurt more.
He reaches home at 8:23 p.m. and his mother looks over him and her eyes accusing– she has the same look in her eyes every time he comes back– she lets him in and offers him a bowl of warm rice and kimchi moments later.
“I already ate with Chanyeol,” He lies, but the apologetic look on his face has his mother backing down and he watches her drop the bowls in front of his father who is watching some Western movie on TV demanding him to eat.
He quickly goes to his room to avoid hearing them argue over something stupid.
By 10 p.m. he’s on his chair, looking at his mathematics homework and ignoring the blinking light coming from his phone. He knows it’s a reply from Chanyeol; Jongin had sent Chanyeol a short text moments after he had stepped out of the train and started walking home
He picks up his phone after internally fighting himself on if he should reply or pretend to be asleep.
He stares at his dark screen and is a bit startled when his older brother’s, Jongdae, name appears on the screen. He only answers because he knows Jongdae has something to complain about and Jongdae’s complaining will help him forget about his own problems.
But the second Jongdae’s comes from the other line, all Jongin’s thoughts are wiped out and all that is left is the endless mantra of tell someone, tell someone, tell anyone before you go insane!
His mouth betrays every fiber in his being and he blurts it out, cutting Jongdae midsentence and throwing him off completely. “I’m pregnant.”
Jongdae is silent on the other line and for a moment Jongin thinks he has been hang up on, but he can hears the noises coming from the background. “What are you talking about?” His voice comes back and it’s a whole lot less cheery.
“I’m pregnant.” He repeats, lump in his throat growing and he wants the floor to swallow him up. He’s playing with the hem of his shirt and staring at the mathematics homework he has yet to start.
Tomorrow is Monday and at 2 p.m. on Monday he has to be at the clinic for the results and the last option he picked.
He doesn’t think he’ll be able to do any mathematic tonight.
“What do you mean–” Jongdae’s voice comes again and that’s when Jongin’s throat starts to hurt, the sickening roll in his gut grows and his throat is tight enough to choke the life out of him.
“Jongdae–” His voice cracks on his brother’s name, wrecked and he loses his nerve, he exhales and inhales slowly– all while trying to fight the fat tears brimming in his eyes. His tears spill onto his cheeks in an embarrassing rush and every emotion hits him like a ton of bricks to his face; he gasps a little and feels a little foolish.
He wipes at his eyes to get rid of the tears– they won’t stop because restricting them for so long causes them to come back with a nasty vengeance– he’s still holding onto his phone and crying into the phone– he tries to be quiet about it, but that proves to be a too difficult task.
He cries because he feels relieved to have finally told someone– even though Jongdae sounds furious– and he feels like he’s allowed to cry about this. He didn’t cry when he saw all the positive results, he was ridiculously calm save for the feeling of being a failure and a disappointment.
He tries to quit crying like a child because his mother is sleeping in the next room and his father is still watching some program on TV with the volume low.
“Mum and dad are going to murder you.” Jongdae growls into the phone, the background noises from his side fade and Jongin in a shaky deep breath, keeps digging heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe away the stubborn tears. “Jongin, , stop crying! Why are you crying?” He whimpers at the angry tone, “You knew what the you were doing when you–”
“He used a – we always use condoms,” He interrupts softly, leaning against the hard chair with an arm over his waist to try and comfort himself from breaking down too much. He doesn’t know what possessed him enough to tell his older brother.
“You know condoms aren’t a hundred percent.” The retort comes and sounding as angry as ever, “Who knows? Does mum know? Dad?”
He shakes his head and wants to smack himself because he can’t be seen, “No– I went to the clinic an hour away from here.” He answers rubbing the back of his hand on his nose and wiping before he sniffles. “I haven’t told anyone, only you.”
“Is it Park Chanyeol’s?” The question comes after a stretched moment of tense silence.
“Yeah,” He whispers looking back at his mathematics homework. There’s no point in lying about it because Jongdae and his parents have met and know who Chanyeol is and know exactly where to find him.
His stomach grumbles and then he remembers he hasn’t had anything to eat, the lack of a whole day’s nutrition eats up inside him and he wants to eat, but the more the thinks about what’s growing inside him– the more he doesn’t want any food near his mouth.
“Are you going to tell him?” Jongdae asks, he sounds edgy and Jongin’s stomach turns. He didn’t think this through, what if Jongdae tells their parents or Chanyeol?
“I won’t.” Jongin breathes out, “Don’t tell him– don’t tell them.”
“You have to tell him,” Jongdae hisses, “You’re seventeen,” Jongdae tells him and his voice is surprisingly soft now, “What are you going to do? You know you can’t hide this and you can’t do this alone.”
He uses his free hand to close his mathematics textbook, moves his chair back after turning his desk lamp’s light off and gets to his feet. He sways dizzily and almost drops his phone, but catches himself just in time and blindly stalks over to his bed.
He lies down on top of his comforter, his tears are dry, but he knows he hasn’t cried enough.
“I don’t know.” He says staring into the darkness, “I don’t know what to do,”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” His older brother sighs, “I just,” He pauses and he sounds conflicted now, “I just never thought you’d be this stupid, Jongin.”
And that’s all it takes for the tears burning at the back of his eyes to trail out of his tightly shut eyes again. He turns to his side, grips the phone tightly in his hand and thinks about hanging up and crying himself to sleep, but decides against it because he doesn’t want to be alone.
“I’m sorry,” Jongin sniffles into the phone, trying to hold himself together.
“,” Jongdae mumbles, “Holy ,” And then he laughs– it’s a tense kind of awkward laugh and makes his heart hurt more– Jongdae tends to laugh when he’s nervous and has no idea how to respond to something. “Mum won’t be happy. Dad won’t either– I’m not happy,” He finally says, “But they won’t kill you so you have to tell them.”
He bites his bottom lip as he listens to Jongdae talk, still wiping at his persistent tears. “I won’t tell them. I don’t want to tell them,” He whispers.
Jongdae is silent for what feels like an eternity before his voice comes again, “Either you tell them soon or I will.”
“You can’t–” Jongin starts to protest, but his voice cuts itself off and he finds himself unable to continue– something catches itself in his throat and he’s suddenly too afraid to breathe or speak and his eyes start to water again.
“I’m your older brother; I can do whatever the I want if I think it’ll help you out.” Jongdae quickly continues firmly, “Do we have a deal?”
Jongin doesn’t think it through before he pulls his phone away and hangs up. He quickly sets his phone to silent mode and crawls into a fetal position on his bed. His thumb’s nail in his mouth and he frowns because he thought he grew out of biting his nails when nervous.
He pulls his thumb’s nail from between his teeth and starts wiping angrily at his eyes and he’s trying to keep his sobs at bay, but he’s positive he’ll spend the night crying and he’ll wake up the next morning feeling even worse than he is now.
Not proofread :C this was long as and im def going to sleep now. Next update will be up tomorrow. Enjoy these frequent updates, they won’t last long LOL.