Chapter 7 - Chapter 6 “Memories are an integral part of yourself”

Don't try to get rid of the memories. We must learn to live with them

(Michael Enslin "1408")

South Korea, 2018

Deep groans echoed loudly through the room, shaking it, like thunder. Young submissive's body ached from the lingering pain, while a heavy leather knout with a firecracker at the very tip, which at each blow created a deafening effect, mixed with moans and whimpers of the guy, repeatedly descended on the already red, sometimes swollen light skin. Each blow seemed stronger and louder than the previous one, bringing not only painful sensations, but also psychological pressure from the whipping sound, settling in the very ears, eclipsing everything, that was happening around, allowing to completely dissolve in the process. This time John was chained by his hands and feet to a tall, polished wooden cross, just above his own height, in a standing position. The limbs were firmly secured by leather belts, that were attached to thick iron rings. With each blow of Dominant guy shuddered, pressing his stomach and chest closer to the surface, clenching his hands into fists, pinned toes. John was, as always, stripped to the waist, exposing his back to the hard, precise, and methodical blows of the device. The knout danced across his shoulder blades, grazing his shoulders and flanks, barely touching his lower back, but not touching the small of his back. Skin itched and tingled from the salty sweat, running down the back of the neck, literally burned with fire. Sharp, but at the same time pleasant pain pierced the entire body from head to toe, settling somewhere deep inside, allowing the process to be complete. The lips, bitten into blood, continued to release soft barely audible exhalations, and each of them clearly allowed Dominant to understand the state of his bottom. Now, just a little more, soon submissive will give up, fall into the abyss of forgetfulness, drown in his own nirvana, step into the impenetrable blackness, disappear into the vast depths. But John kept moaning, asking for more and more as if he didn't know, what he was doing. Subspace did not want to overcome the guy's mind, although it had been a long time since the session started.

And all this made Dominant rampage. In this state, he did not understand, what this kind of outcome was causing. Either bottom wanted to completely cripple himself with his hands, or Top relaxed, lost concentration, became less competent if he could not achieve the desired result. The handle of the knout was firmly gripped by long and firm fingers, and the tail of the knout was coming down harder and harder on his partner's back each time. In some places, the skin was already broken and slightly bleeding, while other areas were crowned with medium-wide red inflamed long stripes. Dominant's breathing became more labored, more intense, and at the same time ragged and hot as soon, as he saw this kind of picture. He could never allow himself to let go completely, always kept control of the situation, knowing his partner too well. John had clear boundaries, that Top respected and followed, but now junior was so weak and submissive at the same time, that it simply broke down all barriers, allowed him to cross the boundaries of what was allowed, to plunge into a growing sense of power over other's body. It seemed to Blake, that even if he did something now, that John had never allowed him to do, junior would not even notice, completely submitting to his will. And this realization was more intoxicating, than any expensive brand of alcohol, more exciting, than any of the most skilled sexual partners, which senior had ever had. He wanted to lash the guy's back, until the droplets of red liquid crowned all his snow-white, untouched skin, and then lick them with his tongue, feeling all his receptors sweet taste with a touch of salt. Images of junior flashed before eyes too overwhelming. As he lies completely exhausted on the bed, moaning with a mixture of pain and pleasure, while Top slowly and methodically stretches him. Skilled fingers one by one enter the tight, long-untouched passage, relaxing, stretching, making it pliable and wide only for one particular person. A hot stream of impulses surged right into his groin, as Blake imagined his tongue sinking into the tight ring of his submissive's muscles, wetting it, expanding the unruly walls of his insides. Saliva drips down his chin, toward the sheets, and over junior's balls, and he moans with pleasure. Powerful, strong hands grip the tender skin of the buttocks, pushing them apart, and Top is ready to sink inside completely, burying his nose, plunging his tongue even further, than it already is. To inhale the mixed scents of sweat, the spice of bruises, the light whiff of perfume, that his submissive uses, is simply unreal beyond belief! Blake is ready to push his cock into the untouched entrance right now, to fully feel the narrowness and heat, that will no doubt engulf him. He wants to see reddish handprints on the halves, wants to pull junior's hair, to deprive him of the residue of the air, to hold the tongue streaked wet back, grab his cock, and furiously to drive a fist up and down, until junior down to the edge, and then sharply pinch at the base, taking other's orgasm control, to the sensations became even more intense. He wants to push inside, until he's exhausted, until he comes to the final and cum on the guy's back, mixing white with shades of red. Blake was so caught up in the mental images, it seemed so real and exciting to the limit, that he with regret felt, that member in tight jeans filled with incredible weight, throbbing and demanding freedom. The head, oozing natural lubricant, rested uncomfortably against his fly, and Blake groaned with a sense of pain and dissatisfaction. He clenched his teeth, trying to pull himself back to reality. In the present senior realized, that his hand was trembling slightly, as he gripped the hilt, and that his whole body was trembling, as he tried to strike again. Blake was so engrossed in walking through his mental images, that he completely forgot about reality. The blows stopped raining down on the submissive's back, but he was still conscious, which he immediately made clear by turning his head slightly back.

"Green…" John thought, he might have missed the Dominant's question because of his completely disjointed mess in his head, so he decided to answer anyway. "Please… Master. Green, green…"

Blake shook his head and closed his eyes. This kind of incompetence he had experienced… never, probably, except in his early lessons, when he first set foot in this club. The Top has always held himself in his hands, always in control of the situation, and never fell into this kind of stupor. What the hell happened to him? This urchin had completely unsettled him.

The summons of submissive stirred up a previously unknown lingering sense of power and ownership even more. Blake raised his hand, and the next blow whizzed through the air, landing on the already injured area of the back, causing submissive to literally scream at the top of his voice.

"You can loudly," Top's voice quivered a little in anticipation, but it was still as firm and commanding, as ever, goosebumps all over his body, the muscles in his back tensed, his legs felt heavier than any weight, every vein in his arm stood out clearly under the skin, and the veins in his neck throbbed with the rush of blood. His brown eyes were blackened, a sucking pool of madness, that would not be able to escape now, his hair was wet and clinging to his temples and forehead, and his tongue kept running over his lips, wetting it with saliva in an attempt to get rid of the dryness. His cock was still painfully clenched in the grip of his own jeans, and he wanted to touch it with his hand.

The next trenchant lash drew an even louder and longer moan from the submissive than before. Had almost no strength left to scream. The throat was dry from the constant screams, and the wild heat settled in the room, making it impossible to breathe. The inner surface of his hands was dotted with small, but rather deep holes from short, neatly trimmed nails, so tightly did John clench his fists. He had no idea, why Master had hovered for a certain amount of time, but right now his brain was completely refusing to work properly. Every cell, every muscle, every area of skin was desperate for release. His head was empty of the obsessive thoughts, that had been choking him just a couple of hours ago. Everything was forgotten, only the heavy, now clearly perceptible blows of the knout remained, allowing one to creep up on oblivion.

After just a couple of minutes, John felt, like he was floating. He floats with the current, caught up by the scorching and intoxicating impulses of endorphins, that envelop it from all sides. There was no pain left, no shame, no anger at himself, no embarrassment. Nothing. Only a pleasant feeling of peace, covering like a soft blanket.

As soon as Blake saw the submissive's arms and legs slacken in the vice, hanging like whips, he stopped himself from raging with the desire to strike another blow at the already frail body of his bottom. His hands slid and trembled, as he carefully unfastened the leather bracelets, freeing John's limbs. Senior picked up the limp body across his stomach and carried to the bed carefully, not to touch the scarred back too much. As he lowered John to the cool sheets, Blake heard the guy's barely perceptible groan, which was immediately reflected in a bright flash, that quickly hit below the waist. Blake bit his lip, stifling a groan of his own, trying desperately not to squeeze the still-aroused flesh with his palm through the fabric. The erection wasn't going anywhere, and it wasn't even going to recede, which was strange and exciting at the same time. Senior had never denied an intimate attraction to his donsen, and John was well aware of his desire. Excitement during the session was also not uncommon. And Blake and John have repeatedly experienced desire during the action. A certain reaction of the body to the actions of a particular device or the entire process as a whole was affected. But never in the two years, they had been together, had Blake felt such a strong need to take junior. Literally, take him over, make him your own entirely. His instincts were so strong, that Blake was afraid, really afraid, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself in time. He behaved, like an ignorant novice, yielding to the needs of the body, forgetting about security and boundaries. This is why the senior always so closely and seriously monitored the condition of his junior before each session, and why he conducted frank and abstruse conversations with him after, in an attempt to understand and eliminate all possible negative reactions. The psychological state of submissive is completely transmitted to his Master, and today Blake felt it in full measure. The form in which John appeared in the doorway of the room tonight, did not promise anything good. Blake tried to reason with him, suggesting, that they talk first and discuss, what was bothering junior. But he was shaking his head violently, almost on his knees, begging senior to help him in the way, he was used to. And Blake gave in, succumbed to the temptation, took the wrong path, which he always tried to protect himself from. He had succumbed for maknae's persuasions as a youth and had paid the price. A monstrous wave of desire engulfed the mind, fueled by the session, which led to an uncontrolled reaction of the body. And now Blake sat next to his junior with a scowl on his face, carefully and easily working on his injured back, and listened to the faint, but distinct moans of the guy, which fueled his recently raging fantasy, completely giving him no opportunity to recover.

Blake stared at junior's red back and couldn't help a low moan, that came from the back of his throat. Running a swab over another fairly deep strip, senior saw, that the edges of it, even after careful treatment, oozed ichor with a slight light reddish tint. Senior couldn't resist leaning over maknae's back, running his tongue over the spot, savoring the tart taste of salt, antiseptic, and blood mixed together. He felt like a pervert, even though he had never considered himself one. Today John had thrown him off balance, broken his guard, brought him almost to the edge of the precipice with him. Another groan from the guy, this time louder and more painful, made Blake stop and pull away from his back. Despite the fact, that junior was currently unconscious, his body was so sensitive, that it could sense any movement, whether it was pain or a caress.

When he was done with the medical procedures, putting bandages on his injured skin, and making sure, that John was breathing more evenly and calmly, Blake got out of bed, intending to go to the shower. The time, that the guy will spend in unconscious oblivion, should be enough to quickly clean up and cool down a little. Even considering maknae's dislike of male touch about the intimate plan, Master should not leave his bottom alone, until the bottom wants to. If John wakes up, and the senior is not around, his mind will react accordingly: after the session, the brain, like the body, is still sensitive and does not fully perceive the environment. And it may seem to John, that Master is dissatisfied with him, that he abandoned him, used him, did not encourage him with his presence after the action. Then the subdrop to the bottom is provided.

The cool spray sobered his mind a little, and Blake exhaled, leaning on the walls with both hands. The water poured down on top of his head, cooling him, running down his hair in streams to the tile floor. Blake could have sworn, that he would have done anything, to be in the arms of his junior. Not just to get gratitude, a shining look of brown eyes, a playful smile of a cheeky boy after waking up, but intimacy. A real, living intimacy, that would cover the body in storm waves and carry it into its vortex. But Blake knew, that was impossible. Even if the sky rained fire, even if the ground turned under his feet, John would never let him get that close.

***

John opened one eye and immediately saw the face of his partner, lying next to him on the bed. Blake touched his hair lightly, either in an attempt to smooth out the unruly strands or to ruffle them even more. As soon as senior realized, that maknae had regained consciousness, he snatched his hand away, as if had burned, and drew back a little.

"Sorry," senior remained in place, but his posture became a lot more intense and more restrained, than a couple of seconds ago, "I didn't want to wake you."

John gave him a slight nod in bewilderment. For as long as he could remember, Blake had never done… like this. John always woke up next to him, senior didn't leave him alone after the session, but he never touched him that way – easily and casually, as if they were an ordinary couple, who had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Blake gave himself a mental slap on the back of the head. He shouldn't have acted like this. John trusted him, allowed him to do things with himself, that would make some people lose their heads in fear and incomprehension, and senior had to respect the boundaries of his personal space. But Hyong just couldn't resist watching junior sleep. John could be so various: in ordinary life, this scoundrel pretended to be a brash and impudent guy, who was ready to do everything, he could, to disobey the rules of established behavior. But during the session maknae became completely different: malleable, responsive, needy, completely unrestrained. Complete opposite. And only Blake was able to see him like this. For two years Hyong had learned his junior well and knew, that he would never reveal this side of himself to anyone but him. But even his junior didn't trust him completely. John didn't let senior get any closer than he had agreed, and Blake felt it now more fiercely than ever before. His dominant nature took a back seat, giving way to discretion and patronage. And it was dangerous. He shouldn't have gotten so close to junior. Couldn't become dependent on him. Didn't dare give vent to impulses. Their relationship was stable and exactly, what both needed. Having lost control and succumbed to temptation, the senior threatened to lose it.

John winced, shifting slightly. His limbs were numb from the same prone position, and his back, which seemed to be bound with bandages, did not allow him to turn over. All, that remained, was to be content with lying on one's side.

"It's all right. How long was I out?" John looked around as if he'd just realized exactly, where he was. He had come here automatically and, to be honest, didn't remember much about the time frame. What time is it now?

"About an hour," Blake said, sounding a little disapproving, and it was frankly unnerving. Each time after the next action senior started abstruse conversations about his condition. And that made John mad. Somewhere in his mind, he knew, that Hyong was right. But he wasn't going to admit it. He comes here for a purpose, damn it. Exactly the same, as Hyong. So why the hell is senior always trying to get into his soul, like at a fucking psychologist's appointment?

"I need to get home. Otherwise, the ancestors will not rest until the morning," John sat up from the bed and gasped when he felt a wild pain in the area of his shoulder blades. The blows of the knout had been particularly violent and frequent in this area, and now junior was fully aware of it.

"You never asked me to use it before," Blake said as if reading his junior's mind, and he also got up, sitting on the bed in a lotus position, his legs tucked under him. He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, and John suddenly reached for his hand. Junior took the cigarette from Hyong, took a couple of deep drags, and handed it back, earning a look of displeasure from Blake. He didn't smoke, but sometimes, at times like this, his fingers would reach for the cancer stick. The smoke settled heavily in his lungs, anchored by bitterness somewhere inside, until the last of it came out through his nostrils, burning his mucosa. Meanwhile, Blake was still talk, "As I recall, the lash is your favorite device. Except for light toys, you have always preferred them to others. Why did you decide to change your habits today, John?"

The knout is one of the most effective, but at the same time, the dangerous device's in Blake's arsenal. Its structure can adversely affect the use, especially, if Top is a novice. This kind of device can never be used without careful preliminary training and preparation, and even the most experienced Dominants do not always have it in their closet, preferring various kinds of whips, lash, and other tools of this kind. It is very difficult to calculate the impact of the knout on the surface of the skin, the end of the long tail usually always "walks" in a suspended position, which makes it almost impossible to ensure the accuracy of landing on the body. But Blake loved this device and was willing to use it under certain circumstances. But today, for the first time he wasn't ready for it. While still in his right mind, the senior tried to dissuade maknae from this type of "punishment" by suggesting an alternative. But he flatly refused. And now the consequences were on the face. The wounds from the knout were comparatively different from the lash. If the second could lie flat and free on the surface, if desired, without causing serious harm, only "burning", leaving uniform light stripes, the first was the complete opposite. Long, straight lines struck the surface, leaving swollen red, sometimes bleeding wounds, no matter how hard you tried to soften the impact. The smooth and tightly woven base of the knout literally cut through the flesh, causing pain, like an ancient flogging, and the marks took a long time to heal. The processing had to be thorough and lengthy.

John was silent as a fish. What could he say? That he wanted to get rid of the thoughts, that was eating away at his brain? To be lost in a rending nothingness, to be left at the mercy of other's hands? Throw out the images of vulgar pictures, that flashed before eyes time after time? He knew, that his senior would not be happy about it, so he decided to keep quiet, as he had done quite often lately.

"John," Blake finished his cigarette, then put it out in the nearest ashtray, and rubbed his hands over his face. "This is going too far. I can't…" senior paused, not sure, how to put it. Now junior's condition was shaky and sensitive after the action, and every word could be perceived as a threat to his safety or habitual foundation.

"We must stop this," Blake tried to get out of bed, as usual, to give space to his junior and to collect his own thoughts, so that he could still squeeze out something useful. But as soon as he moved a little to the edge, John hurried over and grabbed Blake's wrist.

"You want to leave me?!" fear struck at his heart, his throat felt like a stranglehold, and Hyong's words rang in his ears, like a thousand deafening bells. John felt his entire body tremble, the air was becoming extremely short, and he was almost suffocating, the walls were pressing down on him, threatening to turn him into a tortilla. Hyong throws him. He doesn't need John anymore. He would be alone. And that realization was killing him inside.

"What? No!" Blake was startled by the sight of his junior. It was ready to crawl into the smallest shell at the bottom of the sea and burrow into it as deep, as possible. The wrong choice of words provoked a response. Junior was about to snap. Blake put his hand on top of maknae's, and the seemingly simple gesture, which might not have meant anything special to others, was now as close and intimate, as it had never been before. In the past senior didn't allow himself to touch junior like that, for no reason, and the second one didn't need to. So now such a simple action sent shockwaves through both guys' minds. Blake squeezed junior's hand, trying to sound as even and convincing, as possible.

"That's not, what I meant. Sorry. Calm down. Do you hear? Just breathe," Blake stared into the brown eyes across from him and saw the depth of fear gradually dissipate, the pupil returning to an acceptable state, and the darkness of the gaze gradually fading. "But this can't go on, John. You need to pull yourself together and solve the problem outside of this room. You can't hide behind these walls forever, you know? Your condition affects me, and I can't ignore it. Think about it. Decide this as soon, as possible, before you ruin yourself and…" Blake paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, "me with you."

The last words were spoken so softly, that it was barely distinguishable. But John heard it. His disjointed brain, which had just been attacked by fear of its own uselessness, could not focus on individual details. So junior didn't understand, what Hyong meant when he said that last sentence. But he didn't dare ask. When he realized, that he was holding the other's wrist in a death grip, John immediately let go of senior's hand, and Hyong immediately stopped touching him. His thoughts gradually returned to their normal rhythm, and John realized, that he was sitting on the bed alone, while Blake, in his usual manner, was already sitting in the chair next to the table. Senior motioned John to the opposite chair, as he always did, and John winced, knowing, what was being asked of him. He struggled to his feet, still wincing from the pain in his back, and finally landed in a comfortable chair next to the table and picked up the sweets. Blake watched him closely as if he were still passing on his instructions, even in silence, without uttering a word. And John didn't notice, that he was lost in thought.

They spent the rest of the time in deafening silence, in the relaxing light of the room, in a light, smoky kumar, each in their own thoughts.

***

About two weeks had passed since the incident at the club, and Jonghyong still remembered the words of his senior. He asked him to solve a problem, that affected his condition during their meetings, but Kim never dared to even talk to Jungsuk-Hyong after everything, that had happened between them. He still remembered leaving the institution after meeting Blake-Hyong and checking his cell phone, which he had forgotten about for a while when he was immediately attacked by a dozen messages from his best friend. He hadn't even told Chaebom, that he was leaving the club. Naturally, the guy was perplexed. But it wasn't even Chaebom's angry messages that startled Jonghyong so hard. After reading all the lines from the long-memorized number, Jonghyong settled on a single one. The number was unfamiliar to him, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew, who it belonged to. With trembling fingers, after what seemed an eternity, Jonghyong pressed the icon of the unread message. There was only one word inside.

"Sorry."

Such a seemingly ordinary, unremarkable word responded with a wave of shame, flooding the already sweaty and fervent face with color. Jonghyong stared at the printed letters of the message, gripping the phone so tightly, that his knuckles turned white. He was ready to smash the ill-fated device to the ground. The recent session, which seemed to be able to help bring thoughts and feelings to a normal state and in the usual direction, has faded into the background. Images from the club flashed before eyes again. How Hyong had persistently and openly seduced him, what he had done with him, what fear and guilt were reflected in the pools of blue eyes. Jonghyong closed his eyes and tried to breathe as deeply, as possible. He was going to delete the message immediately, but something was desperately preventing him from doing so. His finger hovered over the button "Delete", and Kim cursed, as he wrote down the number with Jungsuk-Hyong's name. Junior didn't even doubt, where senior got his phone number. He didn't know, whether he wanted to: kill Chaebom for sticking his nosy nose in the wrong place, or to thank him for not being afraid of his friend's anger and leaking his number to senior.

Now, two weeks later Jonghyong was restless. Every time, he had a glimpse of Jungsuk at the University, he was ready to sink into the ground with shame and embarrassment. Hyong's presence still stirred and excited him. Their slight closeness never left his mind, sending waves of excitement as soon, as he fell asleep. And in the morning it rolled with new force, making the member painfully tense in the morning erection and literally tear off all the boundaries of what is allowed. Jonghyong replayed the conversation with Hyong many times, trying to get even a millimeter closer to solving the problem. But nothing that made sense came to mind. Jungsuk kept his distance. Again. And this is just more unnerving maknae. He both feared and desired this man with every fiber of his being. Didn't want anyone except Hyong. And this realization made cringe with fear. Chaebom did not help. Just the opposite. He didn't stop talking about, how Jungsuk was interested in him, his condition, when the three of them: Chaebom, Muyong-Hyong, and Jungsuk-Hyong intersect outside of Uni. At any other time, Kim would have been happy for his restless friend. After going to the fucking club Muyong just couldn't get it out of junior's tongue. Chaebom looked like a teenage-gal, who had fallen in love and was finally being noticed by the most popular guy. But the fact, that Chaebom was always talking about the second senior, also irritated him.

"He often asks about you. He's worried, that you're all right. How are you doing. How you look. Whether you sleep normally. To be honest, it's pretty nice of him, to be interested in an ungrateful jerk, like you," Chaebom said the other day, giving his friend a disapproving look, then immediately screamed, grimacing, as received one of the many blows to the head. "Aish, Kim Jonghyong! Stop losing your hands! I didn't do anything. I'm just telling the truth."

"You talk too much. Gobshite. If you are so skilled, use it for its intended purpose," Jonghyong pressed the tip of his tongue against his cheek, and Chaebom immediately stared at his friend and blushed slightly. Jonghyong was taken aback by this reaction. Seriously? He had never seen Chaebom react so self-consciously to this kind of joke. It seemed, that Muyong-Hyong really captured the junior's full attention.

"Just fucking talk to him. What are you so afraid of? Well, he won't eat you, after all. I'm tired of being your parliamentarian, really," Chaebom rolled his eyes and snorted. Jonghyong bit his lip in thought. Something told him frankly, that "eat" was definitely the word, which he would use, that to describe Hyong's intentions toward himself.

"Who's asking you to talk right and left about anything, that comes into your stupid head?" Kim retorted.

"You…" Chaebom wiped in the direction of the friend, but then simply waved a hand at him. "As if I don't see, how eagerly you catch any word, that is connected with him. Nor is he any better. At the first opportunity, he is ready to ask about anything, that matters to you in the slightest. I wonder when you will stop playing this fucking hide-and-seek and still talk like adults? Something happened between you at the club. Something, you don't want to tell me, right?" Chaebom looked at his friend carefully and seriously, and Jonghyong shivered at his gaze. That's right, he didn't say, why he left the club that night. And he prayed that Jungsuk would not do it for him. But Chaebom didn't say anything: either he didn't really know, or he was just trying to get a confession from Jonghyong himself. Well, he did not say. Jonghyong was grateful to Chaebom, but not that grateful. He couldn't explain the real reason for his behavior toward Hyong, without revealing the whole truth. Chaebom had known him since he was a kid, had been through more shit with him than anyone else could have imagined. Even knew about his relationship with his ex. But there was one secret, that Kim had from his friend. And Jonghyong couldn't afford to reveal it.

"Nothing happened. It's just…" Jonghyong tried to think of a reasonable reason, that would satisfy his friend, but he couldn't think of anything useful to say. Chaebom nodded understandingly and put a hand on Kim's shoulder in an attempt to support him. He had no idea, what the hell was going on between the two of them, but he knew his friend very well. Jonghyong has always been a closed and complex person. It was hard to call him talkative or overly sociable. Chaebom was the only one, who had been with him all these years. And he knew perfectly well, that it was useless to pull information from Kim. He'll tell when he's ready. Chaebom's task is to support his best friend, no matter, what he does.

"Just try to talk to him, Jonghyong. If you don't like him, tell him so. Don't torment yourself or him."

"I like him, but…" Jonghyong once again couldn't form a coherent thought. What could he say? That he secretly dreams of his senior but is so afraid, that can't take a normal step in his presence?

"Just talk to him. Is it really that difficult?" Chaebom continued to squeeze his friend's shoulder, and the latter suddenly leaned forward so sharply intending to frighten him, that Chaebom almost fell from the chair, on which he was sitting.

"If you say that again, you'll get my shoe in your mouth," Jonghyong raised his foot, threatening his friend with a rather heavy boot with a large lacing on the sides.

"Aish, Jonghyong! I'm just trying to help. You don't have to be so damn angry, fuck!" Chaebom sat down more comfortably, going back to his notes, shaking his head at Kim's rudeness. And the guy continued to chase unsure thoughts in his head. What should he do?..

Now Jonghyong sat alone on the football field, trying to remember at least a small part of the material, that the Professor had given them in today's lecture. English was always difficult for Jonghyong. Both at school and now at Uni was junior's weakest point. He hated the subject in the direct and figurative sense of the word. As soon as he concentrated, the words blurred into one incoherent stream of incomprehensible symbols and letters, and Jonghyong did not understand anything. With just over a month to go until the midterm tests were completed after the first semester, Jonghyong had no idea, how he was going to handle this unfortunate subject. Even Latin was not so difficult for him. Jonghyong was sitting in the stands, deep in his notes and writing, so he didn't even hear the footsteps approaching.

"Oho, who do I see here?" nasty fake voice, like snake venom, filled out all the insides of Kim. Brandon. This jerk was a sophomore from the same Uni, as Jonghyong. He came to study here from the States as if there were not enough worthy educational institutions there. Jonghyong had encountered him several times and was not happy with this person. The guy was reputed to be openly homophobic, had a violent temper and cruelty. Jonghyong wondered, how such a man could even study here. Brandon wasn't smart either. Truly, money works wonders.

When Kim looked up, he saw three other guys approaching with Brandon. He couldn't remember their names, but they were also medical sophomores, some of them Korean and some of them European in appearance. Jonghyong did not respond to the senior's summons, which clearly angered the other. Maknae wasn't afraid of him, and he could easily have broken into the arrogant asshole, but right now he didn't have the energy or the desire to do all this shit.

"Hey, didn't you hear me say "Hello"? Didn't anyone teach you manners? What is your attitude to your seniors?" Brandon came close to Jonghyong, but he did not even raise his head. Senior was even angrier and pushed the files of Jonghyong from the stands, and it immediately flew to the ground. Kim clenched the pen in his fist but held back himself. He looked up at senior with a pretend smile.

"Good afternoon," Jonghyong purposely didn't address Brandon as a senior, then ignored his angry glare and got up from the stands, to pick up his notes. He was just going to walk away. He doesn't need any problems right now.

"Where's your red-haired girlfriend?" Brandon grabbed Kim's hand, as he tried to gather up his notes. "You go out together all the time. You almost jump on top of each other at every convenient opportunity. Fucking faggots!"

Jonghyong gritted his teeth in anger. He never paid much attention to such insults. Just didn't see the point. Homophobes will always and everywhere, at any time, in any culture, in even the most tolerant country.

But the mention of his best friend stung maknae, he hated people, like Brandon, who liked to humiliate and swear at others behind their back, who took pleasure in mocking the helpless and weak, those who could not respond in kind. If Brandon still didn't understand, what Jonghyong was, if he thought, he could just insult him or his childhood best friend and not get a return, well, he was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Brandon-Ssi, you don't fit our standards. I'm afraid, you'll have to find a more agreeable boy. Not everyone likes such bastards, like you," literally spat out Jonghyong. He knew he was in danger of getting into a big fight. He's alone. And there are four competitors. There's no help anywhere. Lecture time is long over, and there are hardly any students at Uni, who will be ready to help or, at the very least, call security. But the disdain, with which senior spoke of Chaebom and him, angered Kim so much, that he was ready to attack Brandon right now.

"Oh you bitch!" the next thing, Jonghyong felt, was a hard blow to the face. His cheekbone immediately ached with pain, but Jonghyong ignored it, immediately blocking the senior's next blow, aiming his own heavy fist straight at his chest. Jonghyong wasn't going to fight them all at once. No matter, how strong and savvy he was, getting into a skirmish with four healthy guys at once was akin to suicide. Therefore, his goal was only to distract them, to get out of the stadium as quickly, as possible. But that did not work. Brandon's friends rushed to help their leader and punch rained down on Kim from all sides. His face ached and burned, as if with a fever. His lips were oozing blood, his eyebrow was split, the septum of his nose seemed to have shifted from its usual position, and an imposing bruise engorged under his eye. Despite this, Jonghyong still managed to fend off most of the senior's blows without, at least, being knocked to the ground and kicked. He even broke the nose of one of the attackers, who was whimpering and clutching at it, in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Get that faggot behind the bleachers," Brandon hissed furiously. Struggling and struggling, Kim was dragged into a recess under the bleachers, where there was enough place, to continue beating him and prevent him from retreating, but also hidden from prying eyes.

Seniors held Jonghyong in a vise and brought him to his knees, and one of them grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head, raising his head so, that maknae's gaze met Brandon's blazing anger and disgust.

"Now I'm going to unbutton my fly, and you're going to swallow whatever's inside," Brandon said, moving closer to Kim, his hand on the fly, ready to unbutton it. "Then you can do the same with my friend," senior said, pointing at the guy, whose nose Kim had broken. It was still bleeding and already turning bluish.

"I guess, should apologize for the fact, that you broke his nose, do you think?" senior's voice was feigning sweetness, but there was a fire in his eyes. He liked to see the helplessness of junior. The way his strong, large body suddenly trembled under his gaze.

Jonghyong tried to fight the terrible fear and retching, that came over him as soon, as Brandon said those words. His limbs felt heavy, and his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. It seemed, that he couldn't move and didn't even need to be holding him down to stay in place. As soon as Kim imagined other hands on his body, a spasm of revulsion and horror shot through his mind. And he struggled to take control of the situation. At least, distract seniors and getaway at the first opportunity and run without looking back. A normal fight would have been easier for him, than what those bastards were going to do to him. No way in the world would Kim let them touch him. He'd rather die than let someone else's fingers touch his body.

"What you put in my mouth, you will immediately lose," the words came out automatically, and he hissed, as he felt the grip on his hair grow even tighter and tighter.

"You don't understand, beauty," senior snorted nastily, stretching his thin lips in a smile, and took a butterfly knife from his pocket. He turned it over in his hands and immediately came right up to Jonghyong's face, leaning closer, breathing heavily, which made Kim want to curl up in a ball of fear.

"When I stub this in your ear, you'll change your mind," Brandon said, bringing the point of the knife closer to maknae's ear, and junior jerked away from the dangerous proximity of the glittering metal. Then it dawned on Jonghyong.

"You wouldn't believe," he grinned, licking the blood from his split lips, feeling the sweetness on the tip of his tongue. "Brain trauma makes the victim's bite reflex stronger. Moreover, the jaws may contract so, that you will then have to unclench them with a crowbar. If you'd read a few smartbooks, instead of looking for a random guy, which is ready to take your cock into his mouth, you'd know about it. You're still studying medicine. So," Jonghyong forced himself to overcome the disgust and pain on his face and the back of his head, came almost close to senior and hissed in his face, "suck it yourself, fucking homophobe!"

Brandon's eyes filled with blackness, covering the entire iris, leaving nothing, but impenetrable darkness. But he put the knife back in his pocket, intending to turn junior into nothing more, than a piece of fresh meat with his fists and feet. Suddenly heard a voice next to the bleachers.

"What's going on here?!"

Jonghyong was immediately released and fell to the ground. But as soon as he raised, his head and looked ahead, he saw his senior. Jungsuk…

Park was standing directly opposite, near the entrance to the recess under the bleachers, and his eyes were literally shining with righteous anger. Even from a distance, Kim could see, how senior's body shake with anger, and he did everything, he could, that not to throw into a fight. But Jungsuk closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and his voice was more even and calm, "I said, what's going on here?"

"Nothing, Jungsuk-Ssi, we just chatted, hah?" Brandon immediately broke into a fake smile, but Jonghyong didn't miss the way, how he paled at the mere sight of senior.

Brandon had heard of Jungsuk and had even personally witnessed his temper. Senior was not very patient and, despite his slight build, small hands, and pretty appearance, could break the offender in full. Besides, it wasn't even, that scared Brandon so much. Park had very powerful and wealthy parents. No wonder his father and his wife went abroad. And if he wanted to, Jungsuk could very much affect Brandon's peace of mind, without even getting into a direct argument with him. That's why the sophomore immediately retreated under Hyong's heavy gaze, having no desire to mess with him.

Park came close to Brandon and smiled out of the corner of his mouth. He was well aware, that, if he did not arrive in time, Jonghyong could be severely beaten. Brandon was the most violent and unstable scumbag, that Jungsuk had ever encountered. He had often seen him and his cronies bully juniors. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to rein in an arrogant jerk. But his words didn't seem to have any power. He'll have to think about it later.

"I thought, I told you, not to get in my way. Stay out of my way and not touch juniors for no reason. But don't think, that you understand human words," before Kim could blink, Jungsuk grabbed Brandon's arm and twisted it behind him, turning him around. Brandon was so taken aback, that he didn't even have time to fight back. Jungsuk hissed in junior's ear, "If I see, you bother the juniors in my faculty one more time, I won't be as nice and fair, as I am now, understand?" Jungsuk twisted Brandon's arm tighter, making him wince and cry out in pain. Any more and Park will just dislocate junior's limb.

"Is there something wrong with my hearing? I didn't hear your answer," Jungsuk said in a soft voice, but his eyes glowed with dark brown.

"I understand, understand. Jungsuk-Ssi, let go of the hand, hurts!" Brandon whined, as his friends stood by and continued to stare at the scene, so numb, that they did nothing to intercede for their leader. Or they also didn't want to mess with the crazy senior.

"Get out of here!"

At Park's words, all four of them started running, and Brandon ran the fastest, still holding on to his injured limb, "Fucking faggots, damn it!"

"Are you okay?" Jungsuk dusted his hands together, grimacing, as if the thought of touching a bastard, like Brandon, was repugnant to him. He approached Jonghyong, who nodded weakly, but drew back a little when Park held out a hand to help him up.

"It's all right, Jonghyong-e, I just want to help."

Jonghyong stared at his senior, his mind full of conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, he was glad, that Jungsuk-Hyong had arrived on time. If it wasn't for him, there's no telling, what these sophomores would have done to a helpless junior. But the recent piercing fear has not yet receded, not allowing to let other's hand come closer and take it. But Jungsuk didn't seem at all offended or confused by maknae's reaction. He continued to hold out his tiny hand and smile broadly with his perfect and plump pink lips. Jonghyong blushed, but still took senior's hand, getting up from the ground and brushing himself off.

"What happened?" Jungsuk asked, following maknae, as he returned to the spot in the stands, where he had sat earlier, to collect his belongings.

"Nothing special, Hyong, really. Simply… Brandon-Ssi decided to have fun again, that's all," Jonghyong smiled wryly, remembering, how angry Brandon had been. If not for certain circumstances, Kim would have smashed the senior's face to smithereens, even without the fear of reprimand for fighting on the territory of the University.

"I can't stand that pompous bastard!" Jungsuk suddenly swore, drawing junior's attention. Hyong's eyes flashed with anger again, and his lips tightened, and his fingers clenched into fists. A light wind ruffled the senior's black hair, making him look even more intimidating than usual. The white, perfectly pressed shirt was buttoned to almost all the buttons, except the top two, allowing a view of the guy's collarbone and the black tongues of flames of the tattoo. Park ran a hand through his hair, trying to remove the tangled fringe, that had already grown, and his rings glinted silver in the light of the setting sun. A nice-looking, kind-hearted guy, like Jungsuk, could be the devil. And this was both fascinating and frightening to Jonghyong. He felt like an insignificant bug next to senior. If Jungsuk wants to, he will crush junior, literally cover him with the weight of his temperament.

Jonghyong didn't realize, how lightly he touched Hyong's arm, in an attempt to calm his raging anger. Jungsuk, apparently, did not expect this from junior, who did everything, to get as far away from him, as possible. So he flinched slightly at the touch.

"Thank you, Jungsuk-Hyong. If you hadn't shown up…" a chill ran down the spine, causing a prickly, chilling feeling of revulsion, that crept like a sticky ooze under the skin. Kim even put hands on his shoulders and rubbed them, as if trying to get rid of nonexistent touches. Jungsuk turned his entire body to junior and raised his palms, to indicate, that he was going to touch him. Attack of the sophomores scared of maknae, and Jungsuk did not want to cause such feelings from junior of his touches. His goal was just the opposite. Let Jonghyong know, that he can trust him. That Jungsuk wouldn't hurt him.

Jonghyong followed the senior's movement carefully and noticed his questioning gaze. He took a step forward, and Jungsuk's hands fell gently on his shoulders.

"I said, that you shouldn't be afraid of me. I will never hurt you, Jonghyong."

Kim was literally drowning in the senior's gaze. Today Jungsuk's eyes shone a natural brown. The lenses, that were used by senior, did not spoil his eyes, but it seemed to Jonghyong, that the familiar brown hue suited him much better. Pools of dark pupils literally pulled into their abyss, and junior softly descended further and further, risking sinking into it completely.

"You need a ride?" Jungsuk asked. Junior looked at him, like a fan of a favorite idol – with admiration and at the same time apprehension. And Park felt his inner, impressive ego swell, threatening to engulf him completely. To be honest, he was pleased to see such Jonghyong.

"Hah?" Jonghyong blinked rapidly, not hearing Hyong's question. He was so engrossed in the beautiful image of senior, that he simply went deaf for a moment. Jungsuk's pleasant, melodious voice merged into a single stream of incoherent sounds, that Kim would have listened to for all eternity. But he couldn't hear the individual words, completely mesmerized by the alien aura.

"It's quite late, Jonghyong-a. I'll give you a ride. Come on, let's go," Jungsuk pulled back a little, removing his hands from junior's shoulders. As soon as he stopped touching the firm, broad shoulders, Park could have groaned in frustration.

"I am… I don't want to annoy you, Hyong," the warmth, left by senior's hands, was like a soft drag around his insides, and Kim would have been lying if he had said, that Park's touch was unpleasant to him. But he suddenly became nervous, when he realized, that he would be in the same car with Hyong, in a rather small and stuffy space, without the ability to evade and escape, as he used to do before.

"You're not bothering me, Jonghyong-a," Jungsuk said, trying to keep his voice as calm and gentle, as possible, so as not to frighten maknae again. The last thing, he wanted, was for the closeness, however fleeting, between them to cause Jonghyong to reject him. Jungsuk had already realized, that his pressure would achieve nothing. Not the case. He had to win the trust of his junior. According to Chaebom, Jonghyong was a rather peculiar person and did not let people near him just like that. The unfortunate incident at the club clearly showed this. And Park didn't want, that junior to close up now and run away from him again.

"But if you want to get home on your own…"

"No!" Jonghyong shouted a denial louder, than necessary, then was immediately embarrassed, when he saw a slight smile on Hyong's lips. What the hell is he doing?

"I am… I'll be happy if you give me a ride. My bike is currently being repaired, and I…" Kim looked up at Hyong, feeling the telltale color return to his cheeks. All this time he had been trying to avoid his senior, and now he was walking into his hands. What's wrong with him?

Jungsuk smiled again and nodded his head toward the exit from the field.

"Go. Take you home."

There was a tense silence in the car. Jonghyong slumped back in his seat, clutching his things in his hands as if to protect himself. Jungsuk decided to dilute the situation and asked, "Are you ready for midterm certification?"

"Yes, could say that" Kim shivered a little, seeming to settle more comfortably. "That's what I was doing when they…" Jonghyong grimaced at the imprecation, that was about to break out. "When these seniors come."

Jungsuk suppressed another avalanche of anger, as he remembered, how Jonghyong had knelt there, under the bleachers, surrounded by sophomores.

"I noticed your notes. English, hah?"

"That's right," Jonghyong grimaced as if someone had put for long-time stale sushi in front of him. "I can't stand this subject."

"I also had problems with English in my time. But it's all right now. The Professor is quite strict, but she is an excellent educator. I am sure, that, if you ask her to study with you, she will not refuse, and you can easily pass her subject on the tests," Jungsuk bit his tongue in an attempt to pull himself away and not offer his own help. He didn't know, how Jonghyong would view such a statement, so he issued an alternative.

"Unlikely. Professor doesn't like me very much. She thinks I'm incompetent in her subject," Jonghyong chuckled. Recently, Professor scolded him for not being diligent enough and neglecting her subject, and Jonghyong, being a rather short-tempered fellow, dared to be impertinent in response, for which he received a heavy reprimand and a threat to fail the tests.

"This is her method of motivation. In fact, Professor takes all his students very seriously. She will never let you fail her subject, believe me," Jungsuk smiled, and Kim couldn't help, but admire his face. Despite the violent temper and assertiveness, that Jonghyong had already experienced personally, a senior's appearance was still as cute as a child.

"Hyong…" he hesitated, "maybe, you could…" Jonghyong didn't know if he was going to do the right thing. He had spent so much time pushing his senior away, running and hiding, that now he felt fear again. But he wanted to thank Hyong in some way for his help. And perhaps, by getting closer to him in this way, Jonghyong will be able to do it. And also to understand, what he feels. What he is waiting for, and what he really wants. Solve his problem under the name "Park Jungsuk".

"Could I what? To work out with you?" Jungsuk did not take his eyes from the road, but instinctively felt the uncertainty and confusion of maknae. He didn't expect, that he asks for help, much less ask for it himself. But wasn't going to miss this opportunity. Despite the fact, that junior had avoided him since that unfortunate incident at the club, Park had never lost sight of him and had not given up on learning all there was to know about him. But he was going to proceed carefully and slowly, having already made the mistake of pushing Jonghyong away from him.

"If it won't be a problem for you," Jonghyong lowered his head, and his voice was low and weak. He cursed to himself a thousand times. Hyong made him feel embarrassed in a way, that Kim hadn't in a very long time.

"I'll be happy to help you. Just tell me, when it's convenient for you," the car stopped at a traffic light, and Jungsuk turned to junior, touching him on the shoulder with his hand in confirmation of his words.

Hyong's warm hand rested on his shoulder, and he took a deep breath. Jonghyong closed his eyes, trying to capture the moment, as best he could. The proximity of Jungsuk today for some unknown reason did not cause such discomfort, and the hand did not burn him, as it once did. Jonghyong wanted, that senior to touch him like this – easily and casually. The exact opposite, of how he saw it in his dreams and fantasies.

When they reached the house of Jonghyong, Jungsuk stopped and turned to junior again.

"Give me your phone number."

"Why?" Jonghyong frowned.

"I'll leave you my number, so you can write when you're ready to study."

"Oh, this…" Jonghyong suddenly hesitated, fingering the edge of his University shirt. "Well… you know, the point is, that…" Kim once again punched himself in the face. Why couldn't he formulate a simple answer, when Hyong was looking at him so intently and expectantly?

"I already have your number, HHyong.

Jungsuk raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was not the answer, he had expected. Park leaned back in his seat, trying not to smile.

"How do you know?"

"You…" Kim bit his bottom lip hard, to keep from blushing again, "sent me a message back then… when I left the club, remember?"

Jungsuk suddenly stiffened and strained like a string. He rubbed his neck awkwardly, trying to hide an uncharacteristic embarrassment. The thread of trust, so thin and newly established, was too frail now and can be broken if he said the wrong thing.

"Yes… sorry. I was just worried about you. I felt fault before you. So I literally made your friend give me your phone number," Park said, running a nervous hand through his hair. In fact, he wanted to write Kim much more, but he only had the strength to write one word.

The images of that evening still haunted senior in his most frank and violent imaginations. Jonghyong was simply magnificent in his hands. And Jungsuk could not forget it, every time he met with his own fist during the rush of desire. Didn't want to forget. But Hyong wasn't about to remind junior of that now. The incident had scared him badly, made him close up, and avoid Jungsuk for so long again. And now, once again being assertive, Park could not guarantee, that Kim had handled the incident and forgotten everything. It is unlikely, even if he himself couldn't.

Jonghyong only nodded. He remembered the message perfectly. It was still on his list, as was the number, he had entered in his contacts a long time ago.

"Well," Jungsuk straightened up, turning to the side of the road. "Just text me, when you're ready, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Hyong. Forgiving me a ride and… helping me," Jonghyong smiled, and Jungsuk relaxed a little, smiling back.

Kim got out of the car, carefully closing the door, and walked toward the house. He didn't look back, but a smile spread across his lips, as he realized, that Hyong was watching him and wasn't leaving. Waiting for, when junior to enter the house.

Slamming the door behind him, Kim leaned back against it and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He heard the sound of a car, pulling away from the house, and only then did he sink to the floor, completely relaxed. Maknae didn't know, if he'd done the right thing, by asking Hyong for help. He was still afraid of him. His assertiveness, interest, attraction to him. But there were fewer and fewer forces left to resist. Perhaps, by accepting the senior's favor, Jonghyong will feel a little better. He hoped so with all his heart. And he also hoped, that he wouldn't jump on his Hyong at the first opportunity, because, despite his fear and uncertainty, despite Jungsuk's calmness, despite the uncharacteristic mask of innocence, that Jonghyong had seen today on his senior, maknae still wanted his Hyong to death.

***

Jungsuk-Hyong kept his word. He worked with Jonghyong tenaciously, giving no respite, but with concentration and great patience, despite the fact, that junior made sometimes egregiously funny mistakes. Jungsuk even made Jonghyong talk to him in English instead of Korean during their classes. Jonghyong got annoyed every damn time, when something didn't work out, grabbing his hair, falling face down on the table, but Hyong went on and on with his methodical explanations. And it still brought positive results. And with each session, with each meeting with Hyong in the library during their extracurricular activities, Jonghyong realized, that he was no longer as embarrassed and frozen in stone in the presence of his senior, as he had been before. He became calmer and more confident, not flinching from the occasional touch of Hyong, when he brushed the shoulder of junior, then his elbow on the small table, then his foot under it. Jonghyong knew, that he still had a soft spot for his senior, but after spending time with him, he no longer felt the threat, that he had felt in the first days of their acquaintance. To be honest, he even waited for each class, despite the fact, that he was ready to smash his head against the nearest wall from the strain if he opened the unfortunate pages of notes. Chaebom did not stop teasing him, and Kim occasionally responded in kind, because their relationship with Muyong-Hyong had also reached a different level. Chaebom stopped flirting with everyone, devoting all his attention to senior, never taking his eyes off him, when they were close to each other, and in his absence, in addition to idle chatter and teasing, he never stopped haranguing, listing all the visible and invisible virtues of Muyong. Jonghyong was secretly happy for his friend, but he wasn't going to admit it. Will get over it.

"I passed! Damn, I passed!" a loud exclamation echoed throughout the first floor when Jonghyong saw the results of his English exams. There was a solid four in front of his name, and Kim couldn't help but shout of joy, which caused other students to stare at him, and some even shushed him to cool down and slow down while at the University, where some were still taking their tests.

"Hyong, I passed!" Jonghyong, seeing, Jungsuk coming up to him, ran up to him and unconsciously grabbed his hands, swaying left and right with joy. Jungsuk smiled and gently released one hand from maknae's grip and patted his head.

"I told you, there's nothing to worry about. You're not so bad."

"If it wasn't for your help, I would have failed the damn subject, thank you, Hyong. Really!" the eyes of Jonghyong glowed, and the pupil widened and was pulsing from the adrenaline.

"You're welcome," Jungsuk said with a smile, which made Jonghyong want to kiss his Hyong right here, in front of everyone, on the first floor of the fucking University. Hyong looked at him with such pride, that Jonghyong's breath caught in his throat. He realized, that he was still holding the other's hand in his own and that Jungsuk was gently stroking it with his fingers. The moment was so embarrassing and at the same time pleasant, that Jonghyong blushed, and a slight flush suffused his young face.

"Jonghyong, I…" but as soon as Jungsuk opened his mouth, another scream was heard.

"Damn it! Have we done it at last?"

Jungsuk immediately took a few steps away from Kim, and junior let go of his hand so quickly, that everyone seemed to notice.

Muyong-Hyong was approaching them in the same happy mood, that Kim had been a moment ago, and Chaebom was practically hanging on to him, muttering excitedly. His friend's fiery-red hair was disheveled, there were shadows under his eyes, and he looked pale and tired, but all this did not mar his bright and radiant smile and good mood. The midterm tests were safely forgotten, and several weeks of long-awaited rest lay ahead.

"Jungsuk-a, when will you go to your parents?" Muyong asked casually, examining his horn as if it were something strange and alien. All four of them were sitting in the park, eating ice cream, tired and exhausted, but still in high spirits. Chaebom was sitting very close to Muyong, not letting go of the sweetness from his hands. He was smacking his lips so violently, that could hear him even at a distance.

Jungsuk frowned, remembering, and licked the milk contents of the horn with the tip of his tongue, "In a couple of days."

"Are you leaving?" the question flew from lips before Jonghyong had time to think about the decision to voice it. For some reason, Hyong's imminent departure had upset him far more, than it should have. They had seen a lot of each other lately, and Kim had become somewhat dependent on the senior's presence. And the news, which Hyong did not consider it necessary to voice himself, did not please junior at all.

"Yes, for a couple of weeks. I need to visit my parents," Jungsuk turned his full attention to maknae, and he saw the look of dejection on junior's face. Kim was not at all good at hiding his true emotions. Or he just didn't want to do it. Jungsuk smiled faintly, as he realized, that Jonghyong, probably, wasn't particularly happy at the prospect of being ignored. It warmed the soul pleasantly and sent a slight, barely noticeable, but even more remarkable impulse of pleasure through the body. Senior was on the right track.

"Sorry, I didn't tell you right away," Jungsuk pursed his plump lips almost apologetically, he could muster.

"You didn't have to, Hyong. It's all right," Jonghyong said, trying to look as casual, as possible, but his voice clearly betrayed the owner. The younger guy got upset.

"I'll write to you, if possible," Jungsuk said, leaning close to maknae's ear so that only he could hear. Jonghyong shivered at the hot breath of senior next to his already reddening ear, and the alien lips, that brushed the lobe, seemed a little cool in contrast to the flaming whisper, and this greatly disturbed Kim's consciousness. He turned uncertainly to face Jungsuk and met his gaze. As soon as brown eyes met the green ones, Jonghyong realized, that he was again sinking into the entangling womb of other's eyes. He couldn't take his eyes off Hyong, even though the way, he stared at him, threatened to become extremely indecent.

"I… would love to, Hyong," and again the words came out before head could process them. Jonghyong felt like a helpless rodent caught in the king cobra's delaying hypnosis. The green light of the lenses glinted in the eyes opposite satisfied with the answer.

"Want some?" to ease the tension, that had gathered around him, Kim held out his horn in the direction of Jungsuk. Senior thought for a moment, his eyes fixed on maknae, and then he grinned devilishly. Jonghyong's breath caught, as his wet, pink tongue stroked on the top of ice creme. He immediately regretted this damn idea. What the fuck was he thinking? The green eyes continued to drill into Jonghyong with insistent intensity, noting the slightest changes and reactions, while senior's tongue circled the circle of the horn, collecting the milk filling on the tip. Junior swallowed hard, watching the ugliness, his Hyong was making. His head was buzzing with the rush of blood, and it seemed, that, if someone shouted in his ear, he wouldn't have heard it. His breathing slowed, and his pulse quickened, and his heart began to dance, thumping deep in his sternum, ready to burst through his ribs and jump out into Jungsuk's hands, so fast and fast was it pounding. His hands were trembling slightly, barely holding the ice cream, some of which was already trickling down the waffle cone onto his fingers, which were wet with confusion.

Jungsuk stopped after, perhaps, an eternity. He closed his eyes languidly, running his sinful tongue over his lips, probably, cold and sweet after the ice cream. Kim would have given anything, to taste it now. Suck on these lips, lick other's mouth, feeling the sweetness of dessert mixed with own sweetness of Hyong's lips.

"Thanks," the senior's husky voice sent goosebumps all over the body, rapidly engulfing the entire skin, making Kim shiver slightly, despite the relatively warm temperature outside. Jonghyong nodded stupidly in response and automatically reached his lips to the horn, licking it with his tongue, only then realizing, that just recently this same place seemed to be the language of senior. Jungsuk's eyes lit up dangerously, as he noticed maknae's actions. Adam's apple twitched, as senior swallowed the saliva, that had accumulated in his mouth. He reached out and ran his thumb over the corner of junior's mouth, wiping away the last of the leaking ice cream, and he could have sworn, that it took a lot of effort, that not to close his eyes and groan. It was a miracle, that Chaebom and Muyong didn't notice, what the two of them were doing next to each other, completely absorbed in themselves. Muyong-Hyong was whispering something in the younger guy's ear, and junior was giggling like a girl, blushing pink so that his face almost matched his red head.

Jonghyong ran his own finger over the place on his lips, where Jungsuk's finger had been, and looked down in confusion, shifting slightly in place and moving a little further away from Hyong. What about the fact, that he felt more confident and calmer in the presence of a senior? This is all bullshit! Each time Hyong found new ways to embarrass him to the point, where maknae didn't know, what to do with himself. And it seems that Jungsuk did not feel guilty at all. On the contrary, he did it consciously. And frankly enjoyed the process, fucking pervert!

***

"Does he write to you?!" Muyong exclaimed in surprise, opening his eyes to an impossibly wide size, as he, Chaebom, and Jonghyong strolled together in the evening through the same park, where they had rested after their midterm certification. Although not without difficulty and resistance, Chaebom still managed to drag Jonghyong out into the street, to at least walk a little.

"You're paler, than a ghost, Jonghyong. Come on, take a walk with us. Otherwise, I'll tell your boyfriend, what you're thinking, while he's not around," Chaebom dodged a slap on the back of the head and laughed merrily, when he noticed, how his boorish and rather confident childhood best friend blushed, like a boiled crab in a pot, at the mere mention of Hyong.

"He's not my boyfriend," Jonghyong muttered, still pulling his favorite leather jacket over his shoulders, fearing, that Chaebom's garrulous tongue might actually say something too much. Chaebom only rolled his eyes at this statement.

About a week had passed, since Jungsuk's departure, and almost every day senior wrote to Kim, as he had promised. They were usually simple, meaningless messages like, "Hi, how are you?", "How did you sleep?", "How are you feeling?", "Have you eaten?", "What are you doing?" and so on. But also Hyong very often sent videos of his own shooting. Jungsuk liked to shoot New York at night. This city was, in itself, very beautiful and remarkable, but at night… At night it seemed to come alive in a way, that it did not live in the daytime. The lights of colored signs and billboards lit up everywhere, endless cars lit up the highways with their bright lights, skyscrapers were striking in height, seeming to reach into the sky, despite the night time, everywhere was full of people, everyone was in a hurry and running somewhere. The city lived its life even after sunset. No wonder, that New York was called the city, that never sleeps. To be honest, Jonghyong was even a little envious of Jungsuk. He had never traveled outside of Korea and would have given anything, to get a glimpse of some of the beauty, that Jungsuk had shown him in the video. But the most important thing was, that each entry was accompanied by a detailed description, of where Jungsuk was going, and what he was going to do. Jonghyong couldn't see his face, but his melodic, calm voice lulled him to sleep like a sleeping pill, and Jonghyong fell asleep almost immediately after Hyong's next video report. He waited for every message from Jungsuk with a sinking heart and a sweet shiver inside, literally hugging his phone, before going to sleep after watching.

Hyong's question surprised Jonghyong. He even stopped in mid-stride and stared at senior with the same shocked look, as Muyong. Chaebom ran eyes on his best friend and on… his boyfriend and back, and also, obviously, waiting for an explanation.

"What do you mean, does he write to me, Hyong? You're best friends. Don't you correspond with him?" Jonghyong couldn't understand, why Muyong-Hyong was so surprised, when he accidentally mentioned, that he was corresponding with his friend.

"No, Jonghyong," Muyong stared at maknae intently, making him shiver all over, "when Jungsuk leaves, he literally disconnects from everything. In case you haven't noticed, your senior is a terrible perfectionist. He takes his studies very seriously, and everything he does, in principle. Therefore, after each semester he usually "falls out of reality" for a few days or even weeks, and I try not to violate his personal space. Stress and tension make themselves felt, and Jungsuk is one of those people, who are not used to giving themselves indulgences. And it affects him too much. So, he withdraws into himself and doesn't even communicate with me for a while."

Jonghyong froze in place, gradually absorbing senior's words. It turns out, that Jungsuk-Hyong changed his habits, just to keep in touch with him during his departure. With him. Only with him! The realization sank deep inside him, and he felt like he was about to purr like a kitten, that has been scratched behind the ears by an attentive and loving owner. Junior was the only one, with whom Jungsuk communicated on the trip.

"Ooooh," Chaebom drawled and at the moment was next to his friend, trying to look at his phone, which Kim inadvertently took out of his pocket just at this moment, "it seems, that someone was confused," Chaebom pointed a finger at the cheek of his friend, and Jonghyong swung the phone in his direction, but Chaebom had already escaped, hiding behind Muyong.

"He doesn't write me much," Jonghyong grumbled, blushing again.

"Jonghyong," Muyong chuckled, as he continued on his way, taking Chaebom's hand so that he wouldn't lose his temper again and stop baiting his friend. Senior could see, how much Kim was embarrassed. It was kind of cute, but Muyong wasn't going to tease maknae. Not today.

"Just what, that he writes to you, is a kind of progress. I've known Jungsuk all my life. He won't change his habits just like that," the voice of senior was so soft and serious, that penetrated deeply into the thoughts of Jonghyong. He knew, that Jungsuk was very interested in him. Known for a long time. Hell, he wasn't much different from senior in that regard. But Jonghyong would never have thought, that Jungsuk would behave like… seriously about him.

After the walk, when he got home, Kim lay down on the bed, without undressing, and opened a correspondence with Jungsuk. The finger hovered over the keyboard, undecided. Jonghyong bit his lip and swore. He was so curious, that while still on the street, he decided to ask Jungsuk-Hyong, what the hell? But when he was alone, alone with his thoughts and a fucking phone in hand, the guy didn't dare take the first step himself.

Junior flinched and almost dropped the phone from his hands when he felt the vibration of the incoming message. With trembling fingers, maknae clicked on a chat icon with a familiar name. Damn it, does this senior see him from a distance? As soon as he thought about, what he wanted to write to Hyong, he immediately sent him a message.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Hi, how was your day? What did you do today?"

Jonghyong, "Hello, Hyong. Everything is as usual. Nothing remarkable. How are you doing? How's the ride going?"

Jonghyong slapped himself. The most stupid and ridiculous question, he could think of at the moment.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Everything is great! I'll be back in a couple of weeks. So, what did you do today? Did nothing interesting happen?"

It was as if Jungsuk was literally extracting a confession from Kim about the conversation with his friend. Or so it seemed to Jonghyong. He felt uneasy, that Hyong was spending his free time with him while on vacation when he didn't even talk to his childhood friend.

Kim must have been thinking too long, because, when he looked back at the screen, several messages had already arrived from senior.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Jonghyong-a, all right?"

Is something wrong?

Why did you stop talking?!

Jonghyong, "No, no, Hyong, it's okay. Just got distracted. Tonight Muyong-Hyong and Chaebom dragged me outside. Although I would prefer to rest at home. I had to go, otherwise, Chaebom would not give me rest."

Jungsuk-Hyong, "You should at least occasionally go out of, Jonghyong-a. Your skin is too pale. Sometimes I think, a little bit more and you'll collapse in a swoon."

Jonghyong, "You're not much darker than me, Hyong. And as for the state of health, it is for you, that need to worry more, than for me. You don't get out of your books and notes."

Jonghyong chuckled to himself. Recently, he had been able to study Hyong quite well, which he had been afraid to do before. And fully agreed with Muyong-Hyong's characterization. Jungsuk is an avid perfectionist. Everything, that he did, not undertake, senior preferred to bring to the end and not just finish, but do the best possible way. And if Hyong was not satisfied with the result, his brows would furrow, his plump lips would tighten, and he would go back to work until he was two hundred percent done. No wonder, senior preferred to take a vacation away from everyone after each semester. Such a serious and thorough approach required considerable strength and moral stability. Jonghyong knew this from his own experience. By nature, he was an introvert and often needed personal space and rest alone, especially, after emotional stress and tension. Only two things could help maknae recharge – self-isolation and action during the session with Master.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Are you worried about me?"

Senior's words made Kim blush, even though he was completely alone in the room. Damn him! Even at a distance, Hyong knocked the balance out of him.

Jonghyong, "That's not what I meant. Don't delude yourself too much. I'm just saying, that I'm not the only one, who needs to relax from time to time."

That's it! Even though he was embarrassed, like an inexperienced boy, and his hands were sweating from exertion, he was not going to give in to Hyong. At least, while he wasn't around, Kim had to show, that he wasn't that helpless. Let senior not think, that he can excite him with such blatant flirtation.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "I think I catch the impertinence? I'm still your Hyong, Jonghyong-a! )))"

Jonghyong chuckled in response to Jungsuk. Senior tried to appear menacing and unflappable, but the smiley face at the end of the sentence made it clear, that Hyong was just teasing his junior. Kim could imagine, how Hyong smiling now. How his eyes turn into little slits, his lips curve a little, and the way he casually shakes his head at his junior's words.

Jonghyong, "Jungsuk-Hyong?"

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Yes?"

Jonghyong still didn't dare ask the question. He was afraid of angering Hyong with his insistence and inadvertently exposing Muyong-Hyong, that senior might have given out unnecessary information about his friend. But curiosity got the better of him, and Kim took a deep breath, then began typing a message.

Jonghyong, "Today Muyong-Hyong told me, that you are going to the States to stay with your parents after every semester."

Jungsuk-Hyong, "Right."

Jonghyong, "He also said that you don't communicate with anyone while you're there. That you don't even keep in touch with him until you get back."

Jungsuk-Hyong, "This is also true."

Jonghyong, "Then…"

"Why are you talking with me?"

Jonghyong waited for a response for several minutes. But Jungsuk did not answer. The pencil slider stopped moving, and Jonghyong was beginning to feel nervous, that he had actually blurted something out. He shouldn't have asked. Now Hyong is unlikely to want to communicate with him further.

But a few minutes later, it seemed, a new message arrived, and Kim hurried to open the chat, although he no longer hoped for further conversation, even blocked the phone.

Jungsuk-Hyong, "If you don't like it, I can stop."

Jonghyong, "No! I like to correspond with you, Hyong. Just… I was a little surprised, and now I feel guilty, that you changed your habits because of me. This… rather awkward."

Jungsuk-Hyong, "I love to talk with you, Jonghyong-a. And I didn't want to think, that you would try to distance yourself from me again, while I was gone. Even at a distance, I can tease you, right?"

Jonghyong almost choked with indignation, as he read the last words. You are a pervert! Although, in truth, what Jungsuk said to him was eerily pleasant. Being singled out from everyone else in a special way, even if it's by correspondence, is pretty damn nice, isn't it?

Jungsuk-Hyong, "I made a new video for you. Want to see it?"

Jonghyong, "Of course!"

Jonghyong was grateful to Hyong, that he did not develop the subject, that was embarrassing to him again and just gave himself up to the pleasant sensations and enthusiastic exclamations from the viewing. He commented on every move of the senior, asked a lot of questions, and Jungsuk was happy to answer them. Jonghyong was happier than he had been for a long time. And this evening was no exception, when after a while, already rubbing his eyes with fatigue and saying goodbye to his senior, Kim fell into a quiet sleep.

***

About two weeks had passed, since the start of the second semester, and the most hated day for Jonghyong was approaching – his birthday. Kim hated this day more, than any other day of the year, because it was the day when everyone clung to him from all sides like leeches, did not let him pass, deafened him with their congratulations and exclamations of joy. Kim himself saw nothing remarkable about this day. He was only a year older than usual. That's it! Except that the congratulations of the younger brother were especially pleasant to Jonghyong. But the antics of the best friend became even more strange and annoying. Jonghyong was afraid to imagine, what Chaebom might invent this time, as a gift to his childhood friend. Chaebom's imagination was different from his youthful and carefree nature. Having seen such devices in his Master's room, which some had never even heard of, Jonghyong was ready to kill his friend every time, when he presented him with another vulgar gift. At the same time, he did it with such an official look, as if it was, at least, an invitation to some important meeting, that could literally turn your whole life around. Kim no longer knew, where to put Chaebom's gifts, having already filled almost the entire shelf in his wardrobe with them.

"Happy Birthday!" and now, as always, Chaebom threw his arms around his neck, kissing his cheeks, literally licking his face and swaying it from side to side. They were standing in the courtyard of the University, and other students were already starting to look at them, which made Jonghyong feel very uneasy. He didn't like to draw attention to himself. Especially, outsiders. But Chaebom seemed to be simply don't care.

"This is for you, Jonghyong-e, from the two of us! Open it quickly, or I'll die of curiosity without seeing your reaction!" Chaebom was jumping up and down with impatience, and Muyong stood quietly beside him, his arm around the waist of junior, smiling. His congratulations were much more modest because senior had already realized, that Jonghyong had enough of one fierce fan of today.

"I think, I'll do it at home," Kim said, frowning, imagining, how shocked everyone would be when he opened his gift and found another sex toy or a new issue of a porn magazine, or some other such irrational crap.

"Jonghyong-e, please, open it. I swear you won't regret it," Chaebom's body shook with anticipation. He folded his hands like a prayer and shook them in front of Jonghyong's face, and his eyes became so piteous, that maknae couldn't help but roll his eyes. He buried his hand on his friend's forehead, push him back a little, and threatened him with his finger, "If it turns out to be, what I think, swear, I'll shove it right up your ass in front of everyone, okay?"

Chaebom shook his head, widening his eyes and pretending to frown as if Kim had said something grossly rude.

"Don't worry, Jonghyong, it's all civil, believe me," Muyong, who hadn't said a word before, gave Kim a thumbs-up and smiled.

Still hesitantly and cautiously Jonghyong opened the medium-sized bag, untied the strings, and saw… boxes. A lot of small boxes with his favorite perfume series, skincare products, various types of face masks, and a bunch of different disks with his favorite computer games.

"You help him choose?" Jonghyong looked up at Muyong, who nodded, still smiling. "Thanks. Really, thank you very much, Hyong."

"Happy birthday!"

"Hey!" Chaebom shouted loudly, drawing attention to himself, sulking, as if he had just been insulted. "Won't you thank me too?"

Jonghyong chuckled and scooped up the guy, giving him a loud peck on the cheek. Chaebom squeaked and moved away, then pretended to wipe itself with the palm of its hand.

"Thank you, Chaebom. This is the first gift, which you were able to choose correctly. Although, not without help."

Kim nodded and thanks to his Hyong again, and senior nodded back.

"Well, I know your love of cosmetics. You spend hours in the bathroom, like a real girl! The entire shelf is littered with perfumes, care products, and all sorts of crap. And then, you often apply bright make-up outside of the University. I thought all this," Chaebom nodded toward the package, "would be very useful to you. Well, I've known, your love of computer games, since we were a child. You just can't take your eyes off the monitor."

"If you know all this, why the hell didn't you give me something like this before?" Jonghyong asked seriously. He was sure, that it was Muyong, who had made Chaebom change his habits and give him something appropriate.

"I liked watching you get embarrassed. This is so funny," Chaebom gasped, as he received a light poke in the side from Muyong. "And Muyong-Hyong said, that someone might misinterpret my attempts to congratulate you in the usual way," Chaebom said the last words, coming close to his friend's ear, and then burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" Jonghyong took a step toward his friend, startling him, but he just kept laughing. By the way, about who would be incorrectly interpreted… Jungsuk-Hyong did not congratulate Jonghyong. Yes, he did not inform him about his birthday in person and in advance, but for some reason, the junior was sure, that someone: Muyong-Hyong or chatty Chaebom would still notify senior about it. And here is the omission slightly pierced the heart of Jonghyong. Wonder, what Jungsuk could give him?

"Hi, Jonghyong-a," junior almost squeaked with fear, when he heard a voice behind him. He turned on his heel and saw a smiling Jungsuk. Today he seemed different. So handsome and attractive, that Kim's breath caught in his throat. Of course, Hyong was always stunning, and sexy, and… Yet something special was in the air, surrounding his aura today. His black hair, the red paint on the tips, which had already been washed a little and was not so bright, but still noticeable, was perfectly arranged in a chaotic mess, eyes touched dark eyeliner, brown today eyes shone, full lips were smiling, shirt, as always, was undone several buttons, revealing the tattoo, trousers closely fitting slender and strong legs, without a doubt, exposing all the advantages of parading, and all this did not give Jonghyong to take his eyes off him.

"Hello, Hyong."

"Happy birthday," Jungsuk said, coming closer and smiling again, as if he was happy, just to be standing next to junior.

"Thank you!"

Jungsuk handed the junior small box, and maknae on the machine gave his hand to take it.

"Sorry, nothing special, just a little trinket," Jungsuk pretended to look down, when Jonghyong accepted his gift. "I didn't have enough time to come up with something more worthwhile. Someone told me about your birthday almost the day before," Jungsuk raised his head and fixed an evil piercing gaze on Muyong, who immediately looked away, staring at the sky, whistling, as if it was not a question of him.

"Hyong, you didn't have to give me anything at all," Kim smiled, a little embarrassed, but everything inside was screaming and literally singing praises for the happiness, that his senior gave him something for his birthday.

"I wanted to do it. Open," Jungsuk nodded toward the box, and Jonghyong quickly tore off the package and opened the lid. Inside was a keychain with a picture of New York at night. It was bright and glittered so strongly in the afternoon sun, that it blinded the eyes. Jonghyong carefully took the keychain out of the box and stroked it with his thumb, unconsciously smiling stupidly.

"I wanted to give it to you as soon, as I got back from the States. But the opportunity did not present itself. Now I'm glad, that I didn't. Otherwise, I would have nothing to give you."

"Thanks," Jonghyong said almost in a whisper. The gift was, indeed, quite ordinary and for some would have seemed even banal and uninteresting, but for Jonghyong it was the most special. He had told Hyong more than once, how much he liked New York, during their correspondence. How he would like to visit this city as well, like other interesting places in the United States. Jonghyong hoped, that Jungsuk remembered this, and that was the reason, why he gave him such a keychain. He gripped it tightly in his hand and looked up at Hyong with a happy expression.

"If you want, I'll take you there, when I go back to my parents. Just ask," Jungsuk seemed to read his thoughts. Although he didn't need to. He had absorbed all the information about Kim Jonghyong, and he remembered well the enthusiasm of maknae when they discussed a particular video of Jungsuk from his trip. Besides, all the emotions were imprinted on Jonghyong's face. He clutched the keychain with his fingers, like some kind of precious stone, and on his face was reflected such a blissful and at the same time childlike sincere joy, that the heart of Jungsuk was filled with all sorts of emotions: from satisfaction to pride in his own care and resourcefulness.

"Aish," Chaebom swore, "look at this. Happy-what, already shines all."

"Shhh," Muyong shushed on junior, pulling him aside. But in fact, Chaebom was happy for these two. Just about six months ago Jonghyong shied away from Hyong, like the devil from incense, and senior followed him everywhere, not giving him a pass. Their relationship is much better now. At least, Jonghyong was no longer afraid of just the name of his senior, and Jungsuk was no longer looking at him as if he was going to eat him alive. Although, who knows, what's in the heads of two of them?..