monachopsis.

f o u r

this is where corbyn makes a mistake, he realises later as he's lying in bed with a plethora of colourful bruises scattered over his neck and his entire body throbbing with pain.

he never asks jonah to make sure it's okay to hang out with zach.

he has an awesome time with zach. they play video games, and laugh together over the stupidest things, and corbyn learns that the daniel who had given him the note was daniel seavey, a freshman in college like himself.

everything goes to shit when corbyn checks his phone, after three blissful hours with zach.

"fuck," corbyn chokes out, face deathly pale.

"what is it?" zach says worriedly, and corbyn wordlessly shows him his phone's screen.

ten missed calls from jo <3

four voicemails from jo <3

seventeen unread messages from jo <3

"i never told him that i was hanging out with you after class. i never asked him to make sure it was okay," corbyn says shakily, his breathing ragged.

"it'll be okay," zach comforts him. "i'll drive you home right now, and i'll walk you to the door, and he won't dare lay a finger on you."

corbyn nods half-heartedly, not wanting to point out that after zach leaves, jonah can do anything he wants.

a half hour later, zach escorts corbyn up the stairs to his and jonah's apartment. corbyn trepidatiously opens the door, and in an instant jonah appears in front of them. his expression is hard, but smooths into pleasant cheerfulness when he sees zach.

"ah, corbyn. i was worried about you, love. you never texted me to tell me where you were. i thought someone had kidnapped you or something," jonah says a bit tightly, grabbing corbyn's arm and pulling him close.

"sorry about that, i missed him so i dragged him to my house for a few hours. hopefully that wasn't a problem," zach pipes up challengingly, and jonah smiles charmingly, shaking his head.

"not at all. thank you for bringing my boyfriend back home safely. have a good evening, zachary," he responds, closing the door before zach can say anything else. stepping away from the threshold, he forcefully hauls corbyn across the room, throwing him to the floor.

"what the actual fuck were you thinking?" jonah hisses, glaring down at the blond boy cowering at his feet.

"i-i'm sorry, i forgot to text you," corbyn whimpers, and jonah laughs shortly.

"oh, corbyn. you always have been a bit forgetful. such a stupid ditz. the only thing you're good for is spreading your legs for people. that's what you were doing with zach, wasn't it?"

"no!" corbyn cries out, shocked.

jonah scoffs, rolling his eyes. "i'm not stupid, corbyn. you and zach have always been too close. you two probably have sex all the time, don't you? in the bathroom at the college, at zach's house."

"no," corbyn repeats, "we don't. zach is my best friend. we've never had sex."

"for your sake, you'd better not have," jonah says harshly, grabbing corbyn's arm and hauling him into the bedroom. he shoves corbyn backwards onto the bed and strips his own shirt off, and corbyn rolls away, sitting up.

"not tonight, jo," he pleads. "i'm still sore from last time."

"the last time we fucked was two days ago, and you're still sore? god, corbyn, you're such a pussy," jonah says, shaking his head. he presses in between corbyn's legs, sliding his hands up corbyn's sides and pulling his shirt off.

corbyn closes his eyes in resignation as jonah's hands wander his body, tilting his head to expose his neck as jonah leans forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. he keeps his eyes closed as jonah's kisses trail down his neck and chest, shifting uncomfortably when jonah slips his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

"jonah, please, not tonight," corbyn whispers.

jonah responds by pushing corbyn down onto the bed and roughly tugging his jeans and boxers off, tossing them onto the floor. he brings his hand between corbyn's legs, and corbyn squeezes his eyes closed even tighter in an attempt to stop the tears from escaping.

half hour later, jonah collapses on top of corbyn, the two hot and slick with sweat.

"you're mine," jonah mumbles into corbyn's neck, against a dark bruise he'd left there, and corbyn remains silent.

he's so sore, and he knows he's going to be limping for the next few days. hopefully no one at his college will make any comments about it, although he's certain zach will.

jonah's body is heavy on top of his, but corbyn just curls up beneath him. he's always been a clingy person, loving physical contact, and jonah knows that he likes being pressed up against him. it's another reason corbyn still loves jonah—even at his worst, there can still be good moments that trickle in.