My Abusive Husband (Sope, Namjin)
Chapter 1; you will hurt him!
• Abusive language,
• male × male (M/M) content,
• mpreg themes,
• harassment, and
• forced situations.
Please understand that this is purely a work of fiction.
None of the events, dialogues, or portrayals reflect real facts or real-life personalities.
Everything written here is only the author’s imagination.
If you are sensitive to these topics or uncomfortable with BTS shipping, I kindly suggest that you do not continue reading.
Thank you for your understanding and support. 💜
__________________________
Two years had passed since the day Hoseok and Yoongi stood before their families and exchanged vows, but the distance between them felt wider than ever.
For Yoongi, the marriage was a cage—a deal struck only to satisfy his parents’ demands while he kept his true heart hidden elsewhere.
For Hoseok, it was a commitment he refused to let break, fueled by a quiet, unwavering hope.
Hoseok moved through their home with a gentle persistence.
He saw the coldness in Yoongi’s eyes and felt the weight of his silence, yet he never stopped trying.
He believed, with a faith that often hurt, that if he just gave enough love, Yoongi would eventually find his way to him.
He didn't know about the other woman; he simply assumed Yoongi was struggling to open up emotionally, a wall he hoped to climb one day.
When others spoke ill of Yoongi’s distant nature, Hoseok was the first to defend him.
He stood as Yoongi’s shield, offering excuses and support even when the words of others began to seed doubt in his own mind.
On the days when those doubts felt too heavy to ignore, he tucked them away, masking his hurt with a practiced smile.
The one bridge between them was their son.
Hoseok watched the way Yoongi’s cold exterior softened whenever he held the boy, and it was the only thing that kept Hoseok grounded.
He tolerated the loneliness and the emotional void for the sake of his child, determined to provide the boy with the image of a healthy, stable family, no matter what it cost his own heart.
__________________________
Hoseok placed the bottle in the sterilizer and gently lifted one-year-old Taehyung onto his lap.
The nursery was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of a happy baby.
He giggled, batting his tiny hands as Hoseok whispered and made silly faces.
This was the only part of his day that truly felt right.
After playing for nearly an hour, Taehyung’s eyes started to grow heavy.
Hoseok rocked him slowly, singing a quiet lullaby until the boy finally fell fast asleep.
With practiced care, he lowered Taehyung into his white iron crib, pulling up the custom 'TAEHYUNG' blanket and smoothing down his hair.
Taehyung was safe. He was warm.
Stepping away from the crib, Hoseok’s eyes naturally drifted to the main bed.
It was beautifully made, a vision in crisp white and neutral gray.
But to Hoseok, it felt like an island of ice in the middle of the warm nursery.
His gaze locked onto Yoongi's pillow, untouched and too neat.
Hoseok sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to pull at his shoulders.
He walked closer and brushed his hand over the duvet.
Hoseok
Two years, It's been two years, and you still haven't changed. Not even for us... *whispered to the empty space, his voice cracking slightly*
He had hoped so deeply that their son’s birth would be the thing to unlock Yoongi’s heart.
He had convinced himself that seeing Taehyung would finally make Yoongi see him.
But while Yoongi loved the baby, the wall around his heart regarding Hoseok remained unbreachable.
He felt a familiar sting in his eyes and forced himself to turn away.
There was too much to do to let himself sink.
With one last, lingering look at the perfectly made, empty bed, Hoseok pulled on his sweater and left the room to start his house work.
__________________________
Yoongi's girlfriend's bedroom
The air in the bedroom was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the simmering tension that had become a permanent guest in their secret meetings.
Yoongi’s girlfriend stood by the ornate bamboo bed, her eyes flashing with a mix of exhaustion and resentment.
Yoongi's girlfriend
Yoongi, how many more days are we going to hide like this?... *asked, her voice tight*
Yoongi reached out, his fingers brushing against hers in an attempt to bridge the gap.
Yoongi
Just a few more days... *urged softly, trying to steady her*
Yoongi
Okay? Just wait a little longer.
The contact only seemed to spark her anger.
She slapped his hand away, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
Yoongi's girlfriend
You’ve been saying that for two years! Two years, and you still haven't divorced Hoseok. And now you have a child with him... *snapped*
Yoongi flinched slightly, his expression clouding over.
Yoongi
Baby, it happened unexpectedly... *muttered, the weight of his double life pressing down on him*
Yoongi's girlfriend
Fine... *countered, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper*
Yoongi's girlfriend
But why don't you just give him the divorce now?
Yoongi
Because Taehyung is only a year old... *said, his tone turning defensive*
Yoongi
He needs a father. He needs his dada.
Yoongi's girlfriend
*let out a bitter, hollow laugh*... Oh, I see. And I’m twenty-seven years old and I need father too. But because of you, I’m stuck here, fighting with my own father every single day. My dad feels sorry for me just like you feel sorry for your son. What about my life?
Yoongi let out a sharp, annoyed breath, rubbing his temples as the pressure mounted.
Yoongi
What do you want from me right now?
Yoongi's girlfriend
*eyes welled up with tears that finally began to spill over*... Divorce him,
Yoongi's girlfriend
*choked out, her voice trembling*... Divorce him and live with me. Your child has a papa... but what do I have?
Seeing her break down softened his frustration instantly.
Yoongi stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.
Yoongi
Okay, okay... don't cry... *whispered*
Holding her close as if he could hide the truth of his other life within the walls of that room.
__________________________
The living room was cast in the soft, golden glow of the accent lights, but the warmth of the decor couldn't mask the chill of the silence.
Hoseok sat on the edge of the dark sofa, holding Taehyung close.
The one-year-old was quiet, his small head resting on Hoseok’s shoulder, wide eyes staring blankly at the floor as he fought off sleep.
Hoseok’s heart hammered against his ribs; he was waiting, as he always did, despite Yoongi’s repeated warnings to stay out of sight when he returned late.
The heavy thud of the front door swinging open made Hoseok jump.
The sharp, bitter scent of alcohol filled the room instantly.
Yoongi stumbled in, his eyes clouded and unfocused.
Panic flared in Hoseok’s chest, but his instinct to care for his husband took over.
Balancing Taehyung with one arm, he reached out to steady Yoongi with the other.
Hoseok
Yoongi... what happened? Why did you drink so much?... *voice was barely a whisper*
Yoongi’s reaction was violent. He slapped Hoseok’s hand away with a stinging force.
Yoongi
You don’t need to know that!... *snarled, his words slurring*
Yoongi
I told you a thousand times—don't show your face to me when I come home like this.
Hoseok
Yoongi, I couldn't sleep...
Yoongi
That's not my problem... *snapped, his gaze shifting to the child*
Yoongi
Give me my son. I want him.
Hoseok instinctively stepped back, his arm tightening around Taehyung.
Hoseok
Not now. You can hold him tomorrow, Yoongi. You’ve had too much to drink.
Yoongi’s face contorted in a dark, drunken rage. He stepped closer, towering over them.
Yoongi
Hoseok... give me my son before I beat you.
Hoseok
Yoongi, listen to me—
The sound of the slap echoed through the modern hall.
Hoseok’s head snapped to the side, the sting burning across his cheek.
Yoongi
Just do what I said!... *roared*
Hoseok
You'll hurt him!... *sobbed, the tears finally breaking through*
Hoseok
You'll hurt the baby if you take him like this!
Yoongi
Hoseok, don't make me angry. Give me Taetae!
As Yoongi lunged forward to snatch the child, Hoseok pivoted, trying to shield Taehyung with his own body.
In his drunken frustration, Yoongi swung a heavy fist.
He intended to hit Hoseok, but in the chaos of the movement, his hand missed and connected solidly with the side of Taehyung’s small head.
The baby’s sharp, piercing cry cut off instantly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Hoseok froze, his breath hitching.
He shook the small bundle gently, his voice trembling with a terrifying realization.
The child didn't move. His little limbs went limp in Hoseok's arms.
Hoseok looked up, his face pale and streaked with tears, his eyes wide with pure horror.
Hoseok
Look at him... Tae has passed out. Hyung, I'm scared... do something! Please, do something!
The sight of his son's pale, unresponsive face seemed to pierce through Yoongi’s drunken haze like a bucket of ice water.
The anger vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp panic. He reached out, his hands shaking as he took the limp boy from Hoseok.
Yoongi
Don't waste time... *commanded, his voice tight and urgent*
Yoongi
We’re going to the hospital. Now!
Hoseok grabbed his coat, sobbing uncontrollably as they rushed toward the door.
Yoongi fumbled with the car keys, his movements frantic as he led them to the car.
All the way to the hospital, the only sound in the vehicle was the engine's roar and the sound of Hoseok’s heart-wrenching sobs, echoing against the terrifying silence of the child in the backseat.
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(A/N: If you want to read this like Wattpad style, i published in Wattpad too. This is available in YouTube too.)
Chapter 2; F-Forgive me
The clinic was eerily quiet, the sterile scent of antiseptic doing nothing to calm the storm in Hoseok’s chest. He burst through the doors of the pediatrician’s office, his breath coming in jagged, painful hitches. He was clutching Taehyung so tightly to his chest that he could feel his own heart hammering against the child’s limp body.
Hoseok
Doctor! Please, save my son!... *cried out, his voice breaking into a desperate sob*
His eyes were wide with terror, and his hands trembled as he held the boy out.
The pediatrician looked up, his expression shifting from calm to grave as he took in the sight of the distraught father.
Doctor
Okay, stay calm. What happened, Hoseok?
Hoseok
He... he fainted. He just stopped moving,
Hoseok managed to choke out, his legs feeling like they might give way at any moment.
The doctor commanded, gently but firmly taking Taehyung and laying him on the padded examination table.
As the doctor began his examination—checking the boy's pupils and listening to his chest with a stethoscope—the silence in the room felt suffocating. Finally, the doctor straightened up and looked at Hoseok with a heavy, disappointed sigh.
Doctor
Hoseok, I told you when this baby was born... *the doctor began, his voice stern*
Doctor
His heartbeat was never quite normal. We discussed this—you have to take extra care of him. Now, tell me exactly what happened. How did he faint?
Hoseok’s voice was small and shattered as he recounted the events, his words punctuated by soft gasps for air. As the truth of the confrontation and the physical struggle came out, the doctor’s gaze drifted past Hoseok, settling on Yoongi with a cold, piercing stare.
Sensing Hoseok was about to collapse from the weight of his guilt and fear, the doctor stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, consoling hug.
Doctor
Don't worry, Hoseok... *whispered, patting his back*
Doctor
He’s going to be okay. He fainted because he was crying too hard—his system just couldn't handle the stress.
Doctor
*pulled back, his eyes softening just a fraction*... You can take him home now, but Hoseok... you must make sure this never happens again. His heart won't tolerate another shock like this.
__________________________
The drive home was a suffocating blur of guilt. When they finally stepped into the dim, quiet kitchen, the familiar warmth of the wood and the neat rows of dishes felt like a mockery of the chaos they had just endured.
Hoseok stood by the table, his body trembling with silent, rhythmic sobs. In his mind, the blame was a heavy shroud—he convinced himself that if he hadn't argued, if he had just been faster or quieter, Taehyung wouldn't have been hurt. Beside him, Yoongi stood paralyzed. The alcohol had long since worn off, leaving behind a jagged, painful sobriety. He looked at his hands, the same hands that had caused this, and for the first time in two years, he didn't know how to hide behind his anger.
Taehyung, now awake but strangely still, simply blinked his large eyes, looking between his parents with a confused, quiet stare.
Yoongi
Hoseok... *finally broke the silence, his voice low and cracked*
Hoseok didn't look up. He didn't even flinch at the sound of Yoongi's voice. The lack of a response was louder than any scream. Without a single word, he moved toward the electronic stove, his movements mechanical as he prepared formula milk. He needed to tend to his son, to wash away the traces of that night, and to do it alone.
Clutching the feeding bottle and holding Taehyung close, Hoseok walked out of the kitchen and toward their room.
Yoongi watched them go, the heavy silence of the kitchen closing in on him. He let out a long, ragged sigh.
__________________________
The bedroom was dimly lit, the warm glow of the bedside lamp casting long, flickering shadows against the walls. Usually, Hoseok would keep Taehyung tucked safely in the large bed beside him, seeking comfort in the baby's steady breathing. But tonight, his heart felt too heavy, too fractured. With trembling hands, he gently lowered the quiet boy into his crib. He couldn't bring himself to bridge that gap tonight; he felt as though his own grief might overflow and touch the child.
Hoseok climbed into the vast, cold expanse of the bed alone. He lay perfectly still, staring at the wall, the silence of the room ringing in his ears.
After what felt like an eternity, the mattress shifted. Yoongi slid in beside him. There was no conversation, no gentle inquiry about how he was feeling. Instead, there was only the familiar, desperate cycle they had fallen into.
In the past, Hoseok had endured Yoongi’s drunken advances, always hoping that physical closeness might eventually lead to an emotional breakthrough. But tonight was different. The memory of the hospital room and the doctor's stern warning hung over them like a dark cloud. Yoongi’s touch lacked its usual fire; it was hesitant, almost frantic, as if he were trying to erase the image of Taehyung’s limp body with the heat of skin against skin.
As they moved together, there was no joy, no spark of connection. It was a hollow act, a mechanical attempt to find a normalcy that had already been shattered. Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear escaping and dampening the pillow. He knew Yoongi was only here because the guilt was too loud to face alone.
They were inches apart, yet miles away from each other. In the quiet of the nursery, under the watchful gaze of the 'LOVE' signs on the wall, two people shared a bed while their hearts remained completely, devastatingly alone.
The morning sun spilled into the room, its bright rays cutting through the heavy silence of the night. Hoseok sat up, squinting against the light, and felt a jolt of shock as he looked beside him. Yoongi was still there, his chest rising and falling in a deep sleep. Usually, the space was already cold and empty by this hour. Hoseok stared at him for a moment, but no warmth or relief reached his eyes; his face remained a blank mask, his heart too tired to feel anything for the man next to him.
Turning away, his gaze settled on the crib. Taehyung was already awake, his little eyes wide and curious as he tilted his head toward the window, fascinated by the dancing dust motes in the sunlight. A flicker of genuine happiness finally touched Hoseok’s face. In a world that felt increasingly dark, his son was the only source of light he had left.
Hoseok moved with a desperate, loving hunger, lifting Taehyung from the crib and pulling him close. He showered the boy with gentle touches, fondling his small hands and whispering soft words as if trying to shield him from the memory of the previous night.
A slight movement from the bed caught his eye. Yoongi was awake, watching them in silence. The moment their eyes met, the warmth vanished from Hoseok’s expression. Without a word, he placed Taehyung onto the rumpled sheets of the big bed and walked out of the room, leaving the father and son alone.
Yoongi sat up slowly, the weight of his actions settling on his shoulders like lead. He reached out and carefully sat Taehyung on his lap. His breath hitched as his eyes landed on the small, dark bruise—the mark left by his own hand.
Yoongi whispered, his voice thick with a regret that arrived much too late. He brushed a trembling thumb near the wound.
Yoongi
I didn't mean to hit you. I just... I drank too much yesterday.
Taehyung didn't cry or pull away; he simply looked up at Yoongi with innocent, unknowing eyes. The child didn't even understand the concept of the pain he had been caused, and that realization cut Yoongi deeper than any scream would have. He had struck a child who knew nothing but love, and for the first time, the reflection in the mirror was someone Yoongi didn't recognize.
__________________________
The morning light in the kitchen felt deceptively peaceful. Hoseok moved through the space with a quiet efficiency, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. He knew Yoongi well enough to trust him with Taehyung in his sober state; the addiction seemed to have finally cleared, and with it, the constant cloud of fear that usually hung over the house.
As the scent of breakfast filled the air, Yoongi and Taehyung appeared, fresh from a morning bath. Yoongi held the small boy securely with one arm, his other hand steadying him as they navigated the kitchen. It was a rare, domestic sight that made Hoseok’s chest tighten with a flicker of hope.
Yoongi
Is breakfast ready?... *asked, his voice neutral*
Hoseok replied, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips as he watched them.
For a few minutes, the tension seemed to vanish. Yoongi played with Taehyung at the table while Hoseok finished the preparations. But the peace was fragile. When Hoseok moved to set the dishes down and reached out to take Taehyung so Yoongi could eat, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Yoongi sharply knocked his hand away.
Yoongi
Did you shower yet?... *voice was suddenly cold, his eyes scanning Hoseok*
Hoseok
No... *murmured, confused by the sudden change in tone*
Yoongi
Then go. Do it now, And wash that smell off you before you touch him... *snapped*
The words hit Hoseok like a physical blow, making him feel suddenly small and unwanted.
Hoseok
Okay... *whispered, turning away to hide the flash of unease in his eyes*
He hadn't been in the bathroom for long when Taehyung’s sharp, hungry cries began to echo through the hallway. Hoseok waited, hoping Yoongi could handle it, but the crying only intensified. Panic and maternal instinct took over; Hoseok didn't even stop to dry himself properly. He threw a towel around his chest, his skin still glistening with droplets of water, and rushed back into the kitchen.
Hoseok
Yoongi, he’s just hungry... *said, his voice breathless*
Yoongi was pacing the kitchen floor, his frustration visible.
Yoongi
It seems so... *growled*
His voice rising in anger as he opened and slammed cabinet doors.
Yoongi
But where the hell do you keep the milk?
Hoseok
Just give him to me, I'll feed him... *urged, reaching out*
Yoongi
*stepped back, his expression darkening*... Look at you. You didn't even wipe your body properly. If you pick him up while you're damp like that, he’ll catch a fever. Use your head.
Hoseok felt the sting of tears but pushed them back, his own temper flaring at the unfairness of it all.
Hoseok
Fine... *snapped, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion*
Hoseok
I’ll just pour the milk into the bottle instead of letting him suffer while you look for it.
He moved quickly, his fingers shaking as he filled the feeding bottle and checked the temperature. He practically shoved the bottle into Yoongi’s hand, the plastic cold against his palm. Without another word, Hoseok turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, the heavy weight of the "abusive" cycle settling back onto his shoulders.
_________________________
The bedroom was filled with the rhythmic sounds of Hoseok tidying up, but his mind was far from the laundry and pillows. Every interaction with Yoongi today had felt like walking on broken glass.
Hoseok
💭 He’s still the same... *movements slow and heavy*
Hoseok
💭I am the only one fighting for this marriage. I don't even know if there is a single piece of him that loves me.
The sharp trill of a phone cut through his thoughts. It was Yoongi’s, left forgotten on the nightstand. Hoseok hesitated, his hand hovering over the device.
Hoseok
Did he leave this here? Should I take it to him?
He glanced at the screen, and his heart skipped a beat. A contact name flashed—one he didn't recognize, paired with a term of endearment that made his stomach churn.
His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. Before he could process the sight, the call ended, only to start again seconds later. Driven by a desperate, painful curiosity, Hoseok answered and pressed the phone to his ear.
Yoongi's girlfriend
📱Hello? Yoongi?... *a soft, female voice sang out from the other end*
Before she could say another word, the door swung open. Yoongi was across the room in a flash. With a snarl of rage, he lunged forward, grabbing the phone and shoving Hoseok away with a violent force. Hoseok lost his footing, collapsing hard against the edge of the bed frame. A sharp grunt of pain escaped him as his side collided with the metal, but Yoongi didn't even blink.
Yoongi
Who asked you to touch my phone?... *roared, his face contorted with anger*
Hoseok
You... you didn't come, so I thought... Hoseok whispered, clutching his side as the pain radiated through his hip and groin*
Yoongi
That doesn't give you the right to answer my calls!
Hoseok tried to steady his breathing, forcing himself to stand despite the throbbing ache. He looked at Yoongi, searching for a flicker of regret or concern, but there was nothing—only cold, hard resentment.
Hoseok
F-forgive me... *stammered*
He didn't ask about the girl. He couldn't. He knew a fight now would only lead to more broken things, and his body was already at its limit. He reached out, his arms trembling, to take Taehyung from the room.
Hoseok
Let me take the baby...
Yoongi
No... *snapped, pulling the child back*
Yoongi
I'll put him to sleep. You just go to bed.
He turned his back on Hoseok, clutching both his son and the secret on his phone as he walked out.
Once the door clicked shut, the silence of the room felt like a weight. Hoseok slowly peeled off his shirt in front of the mirror, his breath hitching at the sight of the fresh purple bruises blooming against his skin. He touched the marks with shaking fingers, tears finally spilling over.
His reflection blurred by a veil of salt and grief.
Hoseok
💭 I know he’s with someone else. I know he doesn't want me. But I love him more than my own life.
He pulled a small bottle of medicine from the drawer, carefully dabbing it onto the wounds. He knew he had to be fast; if Yoongi came back and found him like this, he would only find another reason to shout. With a final, heart-broken sob, Hoseok turned off the lamp and crawled into the empty side of the bed, seeking the only relief he could find: the temporary escape of sleep.
__________________________
Chapter 3; Just do what I say.
The hall was quiet, the only sound being the low, urgent murmur of Yoongi’s voice as he paced near the window. He was completely absorbed in his phone, his back turned to the sofa where he had left Taehyung. The one-year-old, far too active to stay in one place, began to crawl, his small hands pulling at the cushions as he edged closer and closer to the unprotected side of the couch.
Yoongi didn't notice. He was too busy offering soft apologies and quiet promises to the woman on the other end of the line.
Yoongi
📱I know, I’m sorry... just give me a little more time... *whispered into the receiver*
The sudden, sickening thud of a small body hitting the hard floor cut through his words like a knife. It was followed instantly by a sharp, panicked wail.
At that exact moment, Hoseok stepped into the hall. He thinks to see Taehyung because he couldn't sleep. His heart didn't just drop—it stopped. The sight of Taehyung crumpled on the floor, his tiny face turning red with a scream of pure pain, sent a jolt of adrenaline through Hoseok’s veins.
Hoseok’s scream echoed off the high ceilings as he sprinted across the room, falling to his knees beside the baby. He scooped the sobbing child into his arms, his own tears blurring his vision as he frantically rubbed Taehyung’s head, checking for a bump or a wound.
Yoongi, finally dropping his phone, rushed over, his face pale with a mix of shock and guilt.
Yoongi
Give me the baby... *commanded, reaching out his hands*
But for the first time, Hoseok didn't obey. He didn't flinch. Instead, he pulled Taehyung tighter against his chest and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, swimming with tears, and filled with a raw, burning glare that made Yoongi freeze in his tracks. It was a look of pure, maternal fury—a silent accusation that Yoongi was failing the only person who should matter.
Yoongi knew he was at fault, but his instinct was to harden. He didn't apologize; he simply glared back, his jaw tight, refusing to back down even as the guilt gnawed at him.
Hoseok didn't say a word. The silence was more cutting than any argument they had ever had. With one final, devastating look at the man he had once called his everything, Hoseok stood up and walked out of the hall, leaving Yoongi standing alone in the center of the room.
__________________________
The room was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic breathing of Taehyung. Hoseok had spent the last hour meticulously tending to the small, dark bruise on his son's head, his heart aching with every gentle dab of the medicine. Once the child was finally settled, Hoseok collapsed onto the bed, his body and mind utterly exhausted. He didn't bother leaving the lamp on for Yoongi; he didn't have the strength to wait up for a man who only brought him pain. As he drifted off, a dark, heavy thought clouded his mind:
Hoseok
💭 Why am I even living?
He knew the answer before he fell into a restless sleep—it was only for the tiny boy in the crib.
He didn't know how much time had passed when a rough hand on his shoulder jolted him awake. The room was dark, but the coldness radiating from the figure standing over him was unmistakable.
Yoongi
Hey, wake up... *voice was like ice, cutting through Hoseok’s grogginess*
Hoseok blinked, his eyes stinging.
Hoseok
W-what? What do you want?... *asked, his voice thick with sleep and confusion*
Yoongi
Get up. Go lie on the floor... *commanded, his expression unreadable in the shadows*
Hoseok sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as the words began to sink in. He looked around the comfortable room, then back at his husband.
Hoseok
What... what did I do?
He asked, a mix of confusion and rising irritability surfacing through his exhaustion.
Yoongi didn't offer an explanation. He just stared down at him with a look of pure authority.
Yoongi
Just do what I say. Get off the bed.
Hoseok felt a lump form in his throat. He looked at the warm blankets, then at the hard, cold floor.
Hoseok
Can I at least have this bedsheet?... *whispered, his voice trembling*
Yoongi
I said go to sleep on the floor... *repeated, his tone final and devoid of any warmth*
A sob broke from Hoseok’s lips, sharp and jagged. The realization hit him with a crushing weight: Yoongi treated him this way because he knew Hoseok had no one else to turn to. He was completely alone in this beautiful, hollow house.
Hoseok dragged himself off the bed and curled up on the rug, the chill of the floor seeping into his bones. He buried his face in his arms, his body shaking with silent, rhythmic sobs. He cried until his eyes were swollen and his throat was dry, eventually drifting into a fitful sleep fueled by the heartbreaking knowledge that he was too kind-hearted to ever hurt Yoongi back, no matter how much Yoongi broke him.
__________________________
The morning light was unforgiving, illuminating the stark reality of the night before. Yoongi was the first to stir, the plush mattress offering a comfort that felt increasingly unearned. As his eyes adjusted, the first thing he saw was Hoseok.
Hoseok stayed on the floor all night. At some point, he had to feed Taehyung because tae cried for milk, he had moved to Taehyung’s crib. He was fast asleep in feeding position, painful-looking position, his head resting against the white iron bars of the baby’s bed. Even in deep exhaustion, his protective instinct was visible—his arms were looped through the slats, holding Little Tae’s hand tightly as if anchoring himself to the only love he had left.
Yoongi watched them for a long moment. His expression was unreadable, a cold mask that shielded whatever guilt or conflict might be stirring beneath the surface. Without a word, he climbed out of the large, rumpled bed and began his morning routine, moving with a clinical silence as he prepared for the office. He didn't reach out to wake Hoseok, nor did he offer a blanket to soften the edge of the wooden floor where Hoseok’s legs rested.
A while after the front door clicked shut and the sound of the bathroom door, Hoseok’s eyes fluttered open. His neck was stiff, and a dull ache radiated from his hip where it had pressed against the floor. He sat up slowly, his gaze immediately darting to the big bed.
Gently, he uncurled his fingers from Taehyung’s and lifted the sleeping boy, placing him in the center of the large bed where it was soft and warm. Hoseok doesn't forget to put pillow for Taehyung's safety. He watched the toddler’s chest rise and fall for a minute, a small, sad smile touching his lips.
Hoseok
Stay safe, Taetae... *whispered*
Moving like a shadow, Hoseok gathered his things. He grabbed his bathing suit and a fresh towel, the fabric soft against his bruised skin.
__________________________
The bathroom was bright, the white subway tiles reflecting the harsh morning light as the steam from the shower began to fill the small space. Hoseok moved like a ghost, his mind numb as he reached for the door handle. He didn't even think to knock; in his mind, the intimacy they had shared—however hollow—made a locked door feel like a formality he no longer had the energy to observe.
He pushed the door open, only to be met with a sharp, startled exclamation.
Yoongi
Aaaaaa! What are you doing here?
Yoongi shouted, quickly grabbing a towel to cover himself. His face was flushed with a mixture of shock and irritation.
Hoseok didn't flinch. He didn't turn away. He stood there with a face devoid of any emotion, his gaze flat and tired.
Hoseok
Aren't you going to work?... *asked, his voice a low, steady monotone*
Yoongi
I'm preparing for that right now! Doesn't anyone check to see if someone is inside before they just barge in?... *snapped, his eyes flashing*
Hoseok turned toward the oval mirror, staring at his own blank reflection. The bruises from the previous night were hidden beneath his clothes, but he could feel them pulsing with every breath.
Hoseok
What happened now?... *asked softly, almost to himself*
Hoseok
*looked back at Yoongi through the glass*... You’re acting as if neither of us has ever seen each other without clothes before.
Yoongi’s jaw tightened. The logic was sound, but the casual way Hoseok said it—without a hint of the warmth or shyness he used to have—bothered him.
Yoongi
That doesn't mean you can just come in like this... *grumbled, though his voice lost some of its edge*
Ignoring the scolding, Hoseok reached for his toothbrush. He began to brush his teeth with slow, mechanical movements while Yoongi continued to mutter under his breath. The silence between them was no longer peaceful; it was heavy and sharp, like a physical weight in the small room.
Once he was finished, Hoseok set his brush down and gathered his things. He didn't look at Yoongi as he walked toward the door, leaving his fresh clothes on the counter. Yoongi stood by the tub, glaring at Hoseok’s retreating back with a look of deep confusion.
Yoongi mumbled to himself as the door clicked shut. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the Hoseok who used to apologize for everything was starting to disappear, replaced by someone much colder and much more quiet.
__________________________
The morning light in the kitchen was cold and sharp, reflecting off the white tiles as Hoseok moved with a stiff, mechanical grace. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his side from where he had collapsed against the bed frame the night before. Despite the throbbing ache, he had prepared everything Yoongi needed, keeping Taehyung safely on the table where he could keep a constant eye on him.
Taehyung was playing quietly with a spoon, oblivious to the storm brewing between his parents. Yoongi entered the room, his suit jacket already on, and moved straight to his son to check on him.
Hoseok
The meal is ready... *voice devoid of its usual warmth*
Yoongi
I don’t want to... *replied curtly*
He picked up Taehyung, pressing a brief kiss to the boy's forehead. Hoseok stood with his hands pressed firmly against his hips, trying to support his aching body, but the movement only drew a cold glare from Yoongi. Hoseok didn't look away this time; he glared back with red, tear-rimmed eyes until Yoongi finally set the baby down and left for the office without another word.
Once the sound of the car faded, Hoseok turned to his son, his heart breaking.
Hoseok
Taetae... do you want to come with Papa?... *whispered, pulling the boy into his arms*
Hoseok
Papa can’t stay in this house anymore. And I can’t leave you here alone with him.
With trembling hands, Hoseok packed a small bag for the both of them. He sat at the dining table one last time, writing a brief, final letter to Yoongi, and left it propped up where it couldn't be missed. As they crossed the threshold and walked out of the house, Taehyung began to wail, his small voice calling out,
Taehyung baby (1 year old)
Dada... Dada.
Hoseok
I know you want to be with your dada... *sobbed, his tears falling onto the baby's shoulder*
Hoseok
I’ve been putting up with everything for you all these days. But I saw the truth... Yoongi has someone else. I won’t leave you to be raised in a house without love.
He patted Taehyung gently on the back, shushing him as they walked away from the only life they had known, disappearing into the morning mist.
__________________________
The cold air at the bus stop did little to soothe the frantic pace of Hoseok’s heart. He had purposefully left his phone on the kitchen counter, a final tie severed to ensure Yoongi could never track his digital footprint. Trembling, he approached a young boy sitting on the wooden bench of the glass-walled shelter and asked to borrow his phone for a single, desperate call.
The line clicked open, and the familiar voice of his oldest friend filled the speaker.
Hoseok
📱Hello? Namjoon?... *voice was thin, barely a whisper*
Namjoon
📱Hoseok? Why are you calling so suddenly? And whose number is this?... *asked, his confusion evident*
Hoseok bit his lip, forcing back a sob that threatened to shatter his resolve.
Hoseok
📱Can I... can I come to your house?
Namjoon
📱What kind of question is that? Of course, but—
Hoseok
📱Okay, listen. Don't call my number, okay? Just don't... *interrupted, his eyes darting to the road*
Namjoon
📱But Hoseok, what's going on—
Hoseok
📱I will tell you everything later. Just do what I say,
Hoseok said firmly before hanging up. He handed the phone back to the boy with a shaky "thank you" and pulled Taehyung closer against his chest.
The roar of a bus engine approached, but just as it slowed, a familiar sleek car pulled up to the curb a few yards away. Hoseok’s blood ran cold—it was Yoongi. Panicking, he adjusted the blanket over Taehyung and ducked his head, covering his face as he scrambled onto the bus.
Before the folding doors hissed shut, Hoseok couldn't resist one final, painful look back. Through the car window, he saw Yoongi, but he wasn't alone. A girl sat in the passenger seat beside him, laughing at something he had said.
The bus pulled away, the engine’s rumble drowning out the sound of Taehyung’s quiet whimpers. Hoseok stared out the window as the car grew smaller in the distance, knowing with a devastating certainty that it was the last time he would ever look at the man he had once loved more than his own life.
__________________________
The night air was thick and heavy as the sleek car pulled into the driveway of the modern, dimly lit house. Yoongi stepped out, his expression dark, with his girlfriend following closely behind despite his repeated warnings for her to stay in the car.
He marched up to the front entrance and began pounding on the wood.
Yoongi
Hoseok! Open the door! I’m home!
He shouted, his voice echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
When several minutes of aggressive knocking yielded no response, Yoongi’s frustration boiled over. He delivered a sharp kick to the base of the door, the vibration causing a small, folded piece of paper that had been wedged into the frame to flutter to the porch floor. He snatched it up, squinting at the handwriting in the dim outdoor light.
📄"The door is locked. Go through the back door."
Yoongi let out a low growl and crumpled the note, tearing it into shreds before tossing the remnants into the shadows.
His girlfriend stepped up beside him, a mocking tilt to her head.
Yoongi's girlfriend
It doesn't look like you've taught your husband the right lesson yet... *voice dripping with provocation*
Yoongi
I’m going to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget today... *spat back*
The two of them rounded the side of the house and entered through the rear. However, as they stepped inside, they weren't met with the usual sounds of a domestic evening. The kitchen was pristine and silent, the counters bare mein where a meal usually waited. They moved from room to room—the living area with its glowing decorative panel was empty, the television dark.
When they reached the bedroom, the silence felt even more absolute. The large bed was perfectly made, and the crib sat vacant in the corner, its blankets cold. There was no sign of Hoseok, no sound of Taehyung, and not a single light left on to welcome them home.
__________________________
To Be Continue ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
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