Eighteen’s Bed

When I returned home, my parents were gone. It seemed they had left for another trip abroad while I was at school. The housekeeper had also gone out, presumably to buy groceries. The house was completely empty.

I went straight to my room and dropped my bag. My brain had been working overtime all day, and now I was exhausted. My body slumped into the chair as if it had been magnetized. I wanted to rest. I let out a sigh, feeling the faint heat on my forehead. In this place, where only my presence filled the air, a strange and subtle sensation crept up on me.

An empty house. A tired body. And being eighteen.

That combination occasionally brought me a peculiar kind of awareness.

I checked my surroundings for a moment. Really, no one was home, right? Only after confirming two or three times did I cautiously grab at my waistband. After hesitating briefly, I reached for the tissue box on my desk and placed it beside me. Locking the door on my way in had been a given.

"……."

Pressing my hips firmly against the floor, I fiddled with the buckle of my pants. My hesitant hand soon slipped inside. As I lifted my hips slightly, my waistband was already down to just below my thighs. My underwear had come down along with it. Seeing the black uniform pants and the thin underwear bunched together below made it look a little too explicit. It was a bit off-putting.

I let out a short breath through my nose and grabbed myself below. At first, I only touched it with my fingers.

My thighs tensed up. My legs bent on their own. It felt like needles were pricking at the back of my knees. One provocative image after another flashed through my mind. Just as I was about to reach the peak of my arousal, a particular scene suddenly burst into my head.

"If it's wet, you should suck it dry, right?"

Damn it. That was the last thought before my toes curled.

"……Why the hell did that come to mind?"

Why, indeed? I mulled over it while tossing the tissues into the toilet. The sound of the lid closing and the flush roaring filled the bathroom, momentarily drowning out my thoughts.

After much consideration, I reached a conclusion: Go Yohan's perverse jokes were oddly to my taste.

Just like how the swirling toilet water was sucked down the drain, the dirty chaos of the classroom had also calmed down.

The classroom was a toilet. A filthy cesspool where all kinds of waste mixed together.

Since this summer, I had started to despise the classroom.

But even in that filth, something lovable could emerge.

Like the sharp, little fangs of Go Yohan.

****

I was late to school today. I had overslept.

Of all days, Han Junwoo had to show up early on the one day I was late.

As soon as I opened the classroom door, I met those dark, sunken eyes. He was looking at me, and I didn’t look away.

Maybe it was stubborn pride—what are you looking at?

Adjusting the strap of my bag, I walked at my usual pace, neither too fast nor too slow, and placed my bag down at my seat.

The end-of-term ceremony was brief.

The principal mumbled over the broadcast for ten minutes during the morning assembly, and that was it.

As soon as it ended, the students who weren’t staying for supplementary classes rushed to pack their bags.

"Quiet! I didn’t say you could leave yet!"

"Ah, teacher! We knew it’d only be ten minutes, so can’t you just let us go quickly?"

"I have something to say, so sit down!"

Our homeroom teacher smacked the attendance book against the podium multiple times.

At first, he had been clumsy and unsure, but after dealing with the relentless chaos of eighteen-year-olds, he had grown much more competent.

"When the break is over, you guys will be seniors, huh? You’re now at the final stage of this long college entrance exam battle. Don’t give up until the very end.

You're all a real pain in the ass, but you’re still my students, so I won’t give up on you. If anything happens, call me. You all have my number, right? If any of you prank call me, I won’t let it slide. I’ll deduct points or make sure your next homeroom teacher marks you as a problem student. You’ve been warned.

Alright! Enjoy your vacation. If you’re staying for supplementary lessons, take a short break first. If you’re not, don’t disturb the ones who are studying and just go home."

"Oh~ Teacher, I’m touched—aaah!"

"Shut up. Get out."

Kim Minho, giddy with excitement over the vacation, let out a disgusting whine.

The rest of the class either pretended to gag or joined in, mimicking him with exaggerated cries of, "Aaah! Aaah!"

Filthy bastards.

"Goodbye, teacher!"

The class rep’s voice rang out, followed by a wave of half-hearted goodbyes.

And just like that, summer break had begun.

****

"So, if you plug this number into the formula—"

Haaaam.

A loud yawn came from beside me.

I turned my head and, as expected, it was Go Yohan.

As if it were a given, he had kept his seat beside me even during summer break.

The student who originally sat there hadn't signed up for supplementary classes, so the seat was vacant anyway. There was no need for permission.

His yawn was so big that his eyes welled up with tears.

I lightly tapped his arm with the back of my mechanical pencil.

"Sleepy?"

"If math isn’t making you sleepy, then you’re insane."

I chuckled at his shameless remark. He had a point.

A third of the students in the classroom were already nodding off.

Yohan included.

A playful thought crossed my mind.

"Want me to wake you up?"

With his drowsy eyes half-lidded, Yohan mumbled,

"Mmh."

He really must have been sleepy—his voice was buried in slumber.

It wasn’t difficult.

I placed my mechanical pencil on the desk beside Yohan’s arm and mimicked the motion of walking my fingers across the surface. Then, in a swift movement, I grabbed his pale wrist.

With a slight twist, I flicked the most vulnerable part between his index and middle fingers.

"Ah!"

"Go Yohan, what the hell are you doing?"

Apparently, the math teacher had really sharp ears.

His annoyed voice rang out from the front of the class as he wrote formulas on the board.

"I got a paper cut from my book."

How shamelessly he lied. Did he lie with every breath he took? Why did it come so naturally?

I covered my mouth to hold back the laughter that was about to escape.

Go Yohan glanced at the math teacher and then whispered a small complaint to me.

"Hey. That hurt."

"You asked me to wake you up."

"I asked you to wake me up, not make me scream."

"You're the one who screamed. Why are you blaming me?"

"Hey, you…."

Go Yohan glared at me, full of dissatisfaction.

As I flinched, he quickly whispered into my ear.

"Rock, paper, scissors—loser loses."

"Hey!"

Damn it, that expression just now was all part of his plan.

He must have done it to lower my guard.

Go Yohan threw scissors. I threw paper.

I lost.

Looking triumphant, Go Yohan curled up one corner of his mouth and wiggled his fingers.

I bit my lip slightly and rolled up my sleeve.

The math teacher was writing meaningless formulas on the board.

Now’s the time.

Go Yohan checked his surroundings before smacking my wrist.

I quickly shut my mouth and lowered my head. The hand that was hit got tucked between my knees.

Ah. It hurt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Go Yohan propping his chin on his hand, pretending to stare at his desk.

"Hey. Cut that local broadcast over there."

The math teacher lowered his voice in warning, but no one was listening to the lesson anyway.

The ones who were good at studying were self-studying.

The ones who were just average were hiding earbuds under their sleeves, listening to online lectures.

From the back of the classroom, I could see the faint glow of hidden phone screens beneath the desks.

"Rock, paper, scissors—loser loses."

This time, I went first.

But this time, I threw rock.

Go Yohan threw paper.

Just like I had done earlier, Go Yohan ran his palm over my thigh.

With each slight touch, my thigh twitched.

He finally pulled my wrist out from between my knees and grinned.

"You're dead now. I never said I’d save you yesterday, did I? Right? Hm?"

"Hey. Go easy. Go easy…"

"The only 'easy' thing here is what I’m holding."

I clenched my teeth. "Can’t you hit lightly? Just hit lightly, okay?"

"Kang Jun."

The playful voice turned thick and deep.

My heart sank to the floor, then shot up to the ceiling.

I forced down the panic, swallowing hard, and raised my head.

And there it was.

The cause of all my emotions.

Eyes pressing down on me with a dense, dark focus.

The lighthearted, feathery Go Yohan had vanished.

Only a strange and strange Go Yohan remained.

That momentary change made me feel high.

"That wouldn’t be any fun."

The low whisper tickled my ear.

His long thumb slowly rubbed over my reddened wrist.

Two ironic emotions settled in my solar plexus.@@novelbin@@

The thrill my instincts felt and the fear my reason felt.

It started with excitement, but in the end, the fear consumed me.

The reason was always the same.

Because I didn’t want to be hated.

Because I didn’t want to reveal all of my emotions.

If this went on, he might hear my heartbeat.

No.

No way. I’d rather die than let that happen.

I twisted my hand desperately, trying to pull it free.

But I failed.

Go Yohan’s grip didn’t loosen.

The force was enough to turn my wrist stark white.

I was flustered.

I looked at him as if pleading.

"Let go, let me go."

"……."

The playful look had disappeared from Go Yohan’s black eyes as he stared at me intently.

That gaze made me even more flustered.

Why was he looking at me like that?

His expression was so unfamiliar that I had no idea why.

My heart pounded like it was about to burst.

His long fingers pressed down on my wrist and stroked it, firmly.

It was strangely coercive.

He was going to notice.

He was going to notice my heart beating.

That urgency only heightened my anxiety.

I gritted my teeth and tried to pull my hand away with all my strength.

My fingers had gone white, almost deathly pale.

"Let me go…"

"You, why."

At last, Go Yohan opened his mouth.

"That time, the post-it note."

"Hey, I told you to cut that local broadcast!"

A sharp yell cut through his words.

A piece of chalk flew through the air.

This time, I wasn’t lucky.

"Ah!"

A sharp sting spread across my cheek.

I instinctively clutched my face and quickly looked up.

The math teacher, looking absolutely furious, pointed his finger at me.

"Next time, it won’t end with just a warning."

"Sorry."

Damn it.

There were plenty of other students messing around, but why was he only picking on me?

As soon as I responded, the teacher turned back around and started writing useless scribbles on the board.

It didn’t hurt much.

But it pissed me off.

Why the hell did it have to be chalk?

I rubbed my cheek.

Then, long, cold fingers slid over my own.

They slipped between my fingers, creeping in.

They settled over my hand, covering the part of my cheek I couldn’t reach.

His remaining thumb brushed my cheek slowly, just near my nose.

Go Yohan tilted his head slightly.

The sunlight behind him cast a glow over him.

Silently, he mouthed—

"Sorry."

I froze in place.

I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t resist.

I was tied down by the atmosphere.

Luckily, my rational mind kicked in.

I hurriedly pulled my hand back and turned away.

But even though there was no longer any touch, I still felt it.

I was still caught in that strange sensation.

So much so that I couldn’t even bring myself to ask what he had meant earlier.

Right.

Go Yohan had this strangely gentle side to him.

Fuck.

I hated this part of myself too.

I bit down on my lip and stared at the blackboard.

That was a bad choice.

If only I had waited just one more minute before looking up.

Because at that exact moment, I locked eyes with Han Taesan.

He had turned halfway in his seat.

He was watching.

Watching me.

Watching everything I had done.

"……."

To hide my emotions, I quickly grabbed my mechanical pencil and buried my head in my workbook.

My heart was still pounding wildly.