misfire ♕ jorbyn

ɹnoɟ

corbyn woke up curled into jonah's chest, and he smiled a bit, nuzzling into the soft skin. his muscles were smooth, and corbyn took a moment to just memorize how beautiful he really was. "you stare at me a lot." he heard a sleepy jonah grumble, and corbyn laughed loudly and exuberantly.
"yeah, i do." he said, his cheeks tinged pink. "and you still smoke a lot." he said, reaching a tentative hand down to trace jonah's features softly, his calloused fingers moving slowly and gracefully. "well, i won't be this morning because someone threw my pack over the balcony railing, prick." he said, nudging corbyn in the ribs. corbyn giggled. "hey, you're too pretty to die from lung cancer." he said, "although, i will admit, you look really hot when you're smoking." he replied, biting his lip and shrinking into himself.
jonah opened his eyes at that, looking up at the blond. he sat up, not saying anything for another minute, trying to think of something witty to say. "wait, the corbyn besson thinks that i look hot while i smoke? there's some hope for you, blondie." he said. "what would daddy think." corbyn grumbled at the second part, shoving jonah's chest. "don't bring him into this. he's not important." corbyn said, his words being completely out of character.
jonah raised his eyebrows, "so, if daddy doesn't matter, i guess that means that i can give you a good morning blow job?" he asked, his eyes glinting,and corbyn's eyes widened in what almost looked like horror. "please don't." he said, scrambling away and falling off the bed.
he still wasn't completely comfortable with the whole 'being gay' thing, and he didn't want his first sexual experience to be meaningless. jonah sighed, pulling on a fresh pair of boxers and tossing a pair to corbyn along with a pair of sweatpants. he stood up, leaving the room, and corbyn felt his heart sink. he stood up, changing into jonah's boxers and sweats. he felt embarrassed by how they looked, sinking low on his hip bones because they were just a tad bit too big, but corbyn wasn't complaining because they were soft and worn and they were jonah's and they smelled just like him.
he left the bedroom, walking to the kitchen where jonah was making coffee. "do you eat breakfast?" he asked corbyn, some stupid cartoon playing on the tv in the background, and corbyn couldn't help but think one thing: i could get used to this.
he wanted to wake up curled in jonah's arm while they have small play fights. and corbyn wants to wear his clothes and drink coffee and make breakfast and cuddle while watching pointless cartoons that play on saturday mornings.
corbyn nodded. "i eat constantly." he informed with a shrug, looking around the kitchen. "i'll make breakfast if you want?" corbyn offered, tentatively walking over to lean against the counter next to jonah, and the darker boy nodded. "yeah, sure." he said, "go ahead and use whatever." he added, smiling when the coffee machine beeped. jonah took his black, needing something extra because of his lack of morning cigarette thing or whatever.
corbyn added tons of sugar, drinking his coffee contently while he sat on jonah's kitchen counter. jonah would come in and out, doing random things, and corbyn got up to survey jonah's fridge and pantry in search of breakfast food. he settled on making omlettes, getting everything out and setting them on the counter when there was a loud knock at the door. "marais, open up right fucking now!" a man said, sounding angry and unkind. corbyn froze, turning to look between jonah and the door.
the older boy walked over to corbyn, leaning down to whisper to him. "get in my room, lock the door. do not come out until i say you can." corbyn nodded, his eyes clouded with fear. "and i mean it, corbyn. you do not come out no matter what you hear happening, do you understand?" he said urgently while there were more angry hits at the door. corbyn nodded, rushing off to hide in jonah's bedroom, but he stayed close to the door, wanting to hear.
all he heard at first were hushed angry voices, and he frowned, wanting to understand why he was sent off to hide while jonah stayed out there where it was most possibly dangerous. after a few minutes, the voices got louder until the strange man was yelling. "so what, you think you can go and do that, marais?! i own you, so stop this shit, or i'll slit your throat and hire someone to dig you a shallow fucking grave." he said angrily, and corbyn frowned, picturing a helpless jonah cornered by a big man.
"and if you ever get caught up in this again, i will beat the fight right out of your pretty little body." he said. "look, i'm sorry-" jonah began, but his voice was cut short, and corbyn heard skin connect to skin, in what he could only assume was jonah getting hit.
"and i'm going to leave you a little reminder of that right now, you filthy little bitch, and you will never do this again. you'll start working again in two weeks, marais, when the bruises are mostly gone. and you won't get paid for at least another month or two because i had to pay your fucking dealer just so he didn't try to kill you. good luck paying for your cute little flat now, bitch." the man ranted before hitting jonah again and again until corbyn could hear quiet whimpers of pain escaping jonah's lips.
corbyn had never been in a situation even remotely similar to this, and he was scared. he wanted to run out there and beg the man to stop hurting him, but he knew that he couldn't do that. jonah had told him that he couldn't. it was nearly half an hour later when he heard the front door slam.
corbyn ran out, moving quickly over to jonah's broken form on the floor, and he bit back a gasp. he was pretty much bruised everywhere, and he was crying silent tears. corbyn didn't say anything, scooping jonah up and carrying him to the bathroom where he ran a cold bath to help with the pain. he set jonah inside after stripping him down, returning with a t-shirt that he had wet with warm water to wash off the blood.
the bathwater was tinted, and corbyn didn't know what to say. jonah just stared ahead blankly, cold, mindless tears streaming down his cheeks. corbyn helped him out, wrapping a towel around his waist and carrying him to the bedroom where he laid down next to him.
there was nothing to say really. corbyn had loads of questions that he knew couldn't be asked today...or anytime soon. he sighed sadly, whispering sweet words to jonah who passed out from exhaustion minutes later. corbyn searched around until he found some painkillers which he set on the small table beside jonah's bed. he then went out to make himself breakfast as well as jonah.
when he came back with jonah's plate, he was awake. "jonah?" corbyn asked timidly, sitting next to him and putting a bite near his lips. jonah took the food, chewing and swallowing slowly.
"jonah?" he repeated, continuing to feed him small bites of egg and cheese.
it was difficult for corbyn to watch this happen, and he was starting to understand just how different he really was from jonah. there were things that jonah was hiding. "jobear?" he tried again, his voice coming out meek and innocent.
jonah turned to look at him. "yes, corbyn?" he asked, looking to him expectantly. corbyn took in a shaky breath, setting the empty plate aside on the bedside table. "are you going to lose your flat?" he asked, his voice cracking. he didn't even want to imagine all of the trouble jonah could get himself into if he was out on the streets.
jonah thought, swallowing thickly, and he nodded. "probably." he said hoarsely, squeezing his eyes shut. "it's okay, though. i'll be okay." he said quietly, and corbyn shook his head.
"jonah, you're not okay. you're hurt, and that was the second time in two days that i've had to clean you up after you've been beaten. what the hell is going on?" he said, putting a hand up to his cheek.
jonah pursed his lips, not answering corbyn's question. "i can't tell you." jonah said, looking down at the ground. corbyn, for some unknown reason, was annoyed by that, and he pulled his pale arm away, standing up and pulling on his shirt. "i've got to go home." he mumbled, turning sadly to the bedroom door.
he left, moving to the front door and pulling on his yeezys when he heard jonah behind him. "come on." jonah said. "i told you that i'd take you." he reminded, putting his hand on the small of corbyn's back, leading him out to a black motorcycle. he handed corbyn the helmet, "wrap your arms around my waist, okay?" he said softly to which corbyn nodded.
it was a weekend of firsts for corbyn, and he shivered as the cold, bitter wind blew against him and jonah while they rode. corbyn shut his eyes, laying his head against jonah's shoulder. the ride was over too quickly, and corbyn sighed, silently praising jonah for parking a few houses down.
he pulled the helmet off, standing up and moving to walk in the opposite direction when he felt strong hands on his hips. "hey, blondie. turn around and let me give you your thank you kiss." he said against corbyn's neck.
corbyn turned around slowly, tilting his head up to peck jonah on the lips. "that's all you get." he said, moving to walk away, but jonah still had corbyn's warm hand in his own, and it wasn't difficult to tug him back and kiss him swiftly, whispering a 'thank you, corbyn" against his lips, and corbyn just nodded, pulling away from jonah and walking home to his house, apologizing to his mum for not coming home that night, and trudging up to his room where he spent the whole day sleeping.