chicken noodle soup || sope

thirty

Hoseok kicked aside some day-old newspapers from the porch, toppling them into the dried grass. If there wasn't a vehicle in the driveway, Hoseok would've thought that no one had been home for days.

"You think anyone's in there?" Yoongi asked, stepping up onto his tippy toes to peer into the house window. There weren't any lights on inside, nor any movements he could see through the tinted glass.

Hoseok shrugged, letting out a small breath. "Only one way to find out."

He knocked against the door then paused to wait for a response. When none came for about a minute, he tried again, tapping his knuckled against the door a little harder this time as he and Yoongi shared a worried look.

But this time, a response came as the door finally swung open, revealing a man's figure in the doorway. His face was grim and aged, mouth downturned into a scowl. His frame was thin and lanky, swimming in his stained t-shirt. His tired eyes swept between the two younger men, taking a second to let his eyes adjust before taking a shocked step backwards.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Hoseok's heart sank a little at the of-so-familiar hiss of his father's slurred speech, the common factor in all of the painful memories of his youth. "Um hi Dad. I know it's a bit of a surprise, but I wanted to come visit you."

"Why? I distinctly told you not to."

"I haven't seen you in six years, and I just thought we could spend some time together, especially now that you're sick." Hoseok tried to maintain his composure against his father's sharp glare. He wasn't as kind as he had been in his texts, there was no 'Hobi Bear' or even slight affection for the son. "Could we come in?"

The father sighed deeply before turning and walking back into the house. "Fine, I suppose if you're already here, you might as well."

The boys both kicked off their shoes to be polite, although they both wished to keep them on, looking at the dust layered floors of the front hallway. They followed Hoseok's father into the living room where the old man slumped down into his reclining chair, accidently knocking some beer bottles with his foot. There were all kinds of alcohol bottles scattered on the table and on the window sills. It was clear the man's drinking habits hadn't changed over the last half-decade.

"So who's the shrimp?" Hoseok's father sneered at the dark-haired man. Yoongi gritted his teeth together, finding it difficult to ignore the man's insulting comment. Luckily, Hoseok stepped in to answer for him.

"That's Min Yoongi," Hoseok said proudly, "He's my boyfriend."

Hoseok's father scoffed. "Boyfriend? I should've guessed. No real man would ever look that dainty."

"Dad, please," Hoseok frowned. His father could insult him, but not Yoongi. He wouldn't allow it. "I care about Yoongi, don't be rude to him."

The old man rolled his eyes, brushing off his son's comment. "It's bad enough to have one homosexual under my roof, and now I have two, so let's just get this over with. What do you want Hoseok?"

"I... I just wanted to see you. To make sure you were okay." Hoseok tried to explain, flicking his fingernails nervously, "How is your treatment going?"

"What? Oh right... it's fine," Hoseok's father faltered for a moment, "I need more money to continue the treatments and fully recover though. I don't have enough savings."

"Show us your medication."

Yoongi finally spoke up, demanding proof of the clearly drunken man. It might not have been his place to do so, but Hoseok would've never asked on his own.

The father narrowed his eyes at his son's boyfriend, sitting up in his chair. "How dare you? Are you questioning my illness?

"No, we're not..." A wide-eyed Hoseok interjected.

"Yes, I am," Yoongi ignored the red head's attempt to keep the peace, staring down the old man, "You only contact Hobi when you need money, and otherwise you completely ignore him. You don't want him to visit or be involved in the treatment process. And lastly, you're a homophobic drunk who spent years bullying and abusing the man I love. So, yeah, I want to see you're medication. I have no reason to trust you and neither does your son."

"How dare you speak to me that way?" The man growled, rising to his feet and approaching the boys. "Show me some respect, faggot."

"Dad!" Hoseok tensed up at the slur. It wasn't the first time he had heard it come from his father's mouth, but the target had always been him. "Stop it! You can't talk to him like that!"

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't say!" The father spat, shifting his anger towards his son. "You know what, I don't need your money. This is too much trouble."

"But you'll die-" Hoseok started.

"No I won't, you idiot." Hoseok's father rolled his eyes, "I don't have cancer, I just wanted your money."

"But I-"

"It's your fault anyways," The old man sneered at his son, "If you weren't a faggot and burden, maybe I could stop drinking and keep a fucking job. After your mother died, I lost the only important thing in my life. I never considered you my son Hoseok. You're an abomination, and you could never be my son. You disgust me."

Hoseok's father raised his hand into the air and-

*smack*

Hoseok braced for the impact only to feel no collision against his cheek. Instead Yoongi's fist had collided with the drunk man's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards into the recliner. Hoseok went speechless as Yoongi stepped in front of him, sending a deathly glare at the evil man.

"The only disgusting one here is you asshole," Yoongi barked, his rage finally surfacing. "You should be so lucky to have Hoseok as a son."

"Get out of my house, both of you!" The man seethed through gritted teeth, holding his sore jawbone with both hands.

"Gladly," Yoongi spat before grabbing his boyfriend's hand and rushing down the main hallway and out the door. They both climbed back into the car together, and Yoongi turned to Hoseok, the younger just stared out the front window silently.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asked hesitantly.

Hoseok turned to his boyfriend with a bewildered expression, trying to process the overwhelming pain and confusion. "He- He lied to me."

The red head stared down at his lap as his eyes began to water. Yoongi pulled him into a tight embrace, refusing to let his boyfriend feel alone.

"I hate him," Hoseok said in a small voice, his head resting against Yoongi's shoulder, tears dropping against the fabric of his shirt. So many years he had spent ignoring his father's vicious comments and abuse, holding onto a hope that one day he would change. He wouldn't stand for it any longer, couldn't bare to spend another moment waiting for a change that would never happen.

"That man isn't my father anymore."