T/N: Sorry for the wait!
He saw Chang-gon again the following week, after several days with no contact. When Seungjo’s class ended and Giyun was tidying up the lecture room alone, Chang-gon snuck up and grabbed him from behind, and he nearly shouted out loud.
“You scared me!”
“Haha, you’re still so sensitive, huh, Giyun. Just kidding, just kidding.”
He raised both hands in surrender and joked around, leaving nothing to say. If he kept pushing back, he felt like he’d be the only weirdo, so Giyun went on with his work. There were so many enrollees that he hadn’t even realized he’d come to attend the class. He must have been way in the back. Or maybe in the video section.
Still, it was strange that he was lingering when class had ended quite a while ago. Giyun had just finished something else in the TAs’ office; at this hour, the lecture room was supposed to be empty.
“Busy these days?”
“It’s always the same.”
Perched casually on a row of desks that Giyun had lined up evenly, Chang-gon struck up a conversation.
“Wanna go to a hotel? I’ve got a room voucher.”
With an unexpected offer, he took out an envelope and showed the paper inside. It was the hotel with the buffet they’d gone to after the get-together. Giyun frowned. He felt disgusted the moment he saw it.
“The breakfast here is great. The buffet’s famous.”
“What hotel. Why would I go there?”
Without even looking at him, he refused. So Chang-gon began to persuade.
“You’re worn out from work and studying. Go get a massage and really rest up. Go for a swim, too. Are you any good at swimming?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”
“I’ll teach you. Should we go buy a swimsuit today?”
“No. I’m busy…”
Giving half-answers, he straightened the line of desks that Chang-gon had mussed up. Another TA had clocked out early for something urgent, so he was closing alone today. While finishing up, he spotted a pen on the floor near the lectern and picked it up. He wasn’t sure if it was Seungjo’s. It was near the lectern, so it seemed likely, but…
He should ask, for now. He only meant to return a lost item—no impure motive. He just didn’t know where he was. Right after class, he usually seemed to stop by the 7th-floor office; maybe if he went up now, he could catch him…
“Always ‘busy,’ huh.”
With a sour face, Chang-gon yanked his arm. He almost dropped the pen again. Quickly, he slipped it into his pocket.
“Enough already. How long are you gonna play hard to get?”
“Excuse me?”
He pushed off the desk and strode toward him. When the arm he’d shaken off got grabbed again, he was flustered.
“What do you think you’re doing? This is an academy.”
“It’s fine. It’s an empty lecture room, so what?”
What is he even saying? Before he could retort, the guy switched off the lights. Darkness fell over the vast space in an instant. All the windows were covered with blinds, so you couldn’t see the hallway.
“There, now you can’t see, right?”
“What is this? Turn the lights on, now.”
“You seem way too timid, is all.”
When he tried to find the switch to turn them back on, Chang-gon dogged him and pressed in. His back hit the wall.
“I thought maybe you’d get brave once it was dark.”
It was one thing in the car, but he hadn’t expected this here. This was a public place, and anyone could come in at any time if they opened the door. He was stranger than he’d thought.
There was nothing to gain from provoking him here, so he tried to respond as calmly as possible.
“Hyung. Move. Right now.”
“I’ll move if you give me one little kiss.”
“Don’t joke around. I’m scary when I get mad.”
“Oooh, scary, scary.”
But he was less communicative than an animal. As if he’d come with a plan, he brought his already big face right up close. They were similar in height, so their eyes were level, which made it more oppressive.
“Haa, Giyun. Your skin is really…”
When he turned his head to get away, the guy fingered his cheek and ground his hips in. The familiar nausea surged. He felt like he was about to say something truly vicious. He could hardly remember ever cursing someone out in his life, but right now he felt he could spit a machine-gun rap of expletives.
He’d been stupid to think, even for a moment, that because the guy liked him he should show minimal courtesy and consideration. There was no need. This was not it. Ending it coldly was the right answer.
Just as he resolved, the door opened and the lights came on. It was hard to see clearly because Chang-gon was blocking him head-on, but someone stood in the doorway. Unaccustomed to the sudden flood of light, he blinked. When his eyes opened again, he couldn’t believe them.
There was Seungjo, standing in the wide-open doorway.
“…”
“…”
A frigid stillness fell over the room. All three of them were at a loss for words. With the idiot still pinning him against the wall, he shoved him off hard. Not that it changed anything. The blood drained from his face.
Class had already ended. Why had he come back? Why of all times now. What must he be thinking, looking at him. Not that he had any image built to begin with, but now he was about to drop past the floor into the pit. He just wanted to die.
“…What situation is this?”
Seungjo finally spoke. Maybe it was his imagination, but that low voice seemed to tremble, just a little.
“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about. We just—”
“Not you.”
Silencing the glib excuse, he looked at Giyun.
“Let’s hear it from you, Mr. Eun Giyun.”
“Me…?”
When he pointed to himself with his index finger, Seungjo nodded.
“…”
But no words came. He froze with his finger at his chest. He couldn’t have said anything even if he’d had ten mouths. Those deep eyes looking straight at him made it even more impossible.
What was he supposed to say? It wasn’t like he’d rehearsed a scene; humiliating as it was, what you saw was what there was. Unless he meant to dress him down on purpose, what answer was he hoping to hear…
“…Do you need help, by any chance.”
“Sorry? What do you mean?”
Still perfectly calm, he was interrupted by Chang-gon with a what-the-hell look. He obviously felt it was unfair to be treated like some molester out of nowhere. For his part, he was just as rattled.
Without thinking, he side-eyed the man in front of him. He wanted to keep him in check; he had no idea how rudely he’d act. But however he interpreted that glance, Seungjo strode between them, as if drawing a line.
“Look only at me, Mr. Eun. You don’t need to watch him.”
“Hey, excuse me, listen—”
“It’s fine, just tell me. I’ll handle all the fallout.”
The soft prompting continued. Even so, when no answer came, he fixed a cold stare on Chang-gon.
“First, you—step outside.”
“What?”
“Your mere presence is a hindrance.”
“Wow, who’s the one who needs to leave here…!”
Acting like the most wronged man alive, he burst with indignation. Regardless, Seungjo came over, gripped him by the torso with both hands, and lifted. Seeing him hoist an unwilling man like a piece of furniture and march forward, he was appalled.
Cradled like an ugly doll, feet off the floor, the man shrieked, “What the hell are you doing?”
Stiff with shock, he quickly stopped Seungjo before things went too far. The guy was a second from being thrown out the door.
“D-don’t do that, sir.”
He didn’t know exactly what answer the other wanted, but he knew what he wanted to say.
“It’s not like that.”
He didn’t want to look like a clueless idiot making a scene on school grounds, but he wanted even less to look like a helpless fool who couldn’t take care of himself.
Leaving aside how repulsive he found the guy, whatever way he ended things with him was his to handle. There was no reason for Seungjo to punish him on his behalf. He didn’t want to drag him into something he could deal with himself.
Saying he’d take responsibility for any fallout—maybe it was a light courtesy on his part, but to him it was the scariest thing. He didn’t want to burden or harm him any more than this.
“It’s a personal matter… It’s not something you need to concern yourself with, sir.”
Above all, the idea of explaining all this to him in detail was mortifying beyond measure. He wanted this over more than anyone. It couldn’t be helped that he was dependent on him financially, but if he had to ask him for help with something like this, he’d feel too wretched.
Call it a flimsy shred of pride. Just being caught in a scene like this filled him with self-loathing.
“Sorry for the disturbance in the lecture room. It won’t happen again.”
Bowing his head in shame and chagrin, he didn’t see the sudden, harsh twist of Seungjo’s face.
He set the man down without a word. He dropped to the floor with a thud.
“…”
He didn’t answer right away. The heavy silence stretched strangely long. Slowly, he lifted his head. After a long pause, Seungjo spoke.
“I see.”
“…”
“As you say, Mr. Eun, it’s not something I need to concern myself with.”
It was a clean assent. With that reply, he said nothing more. As if nothing had happened, he walked past them to the lectern. Exultant now, the other man rushed after him. Apparently, being treated that way had rankled. He was ready to pick a fight after the fact.
“Hey, Instructor? If you treat an innocent citizen like a criminal—”
“Ah, fuck.”
Out of nowhere, Seungjo bit out a curse. It was such raw language that it was hard to believe it came from someone who used strictly refined speech in class. The man flinched and stumbled a step back. With that body and voice, the swear sounded less vulgar than threatening. From his eyes alone, you’d think he’d smash the lectern with his fist.
“My pen’s gone.”
He added the next sentence as if nothing had happened. The abrupt change in tone was startling, but the voice that followed was more civil than before. He remembered the pen he’d found near the lectern. Now he understood why he’d come here after class.
So he was mad because he’d lost a pen… He quickly pulled the one from his pocket.
“Are you looking for this, by any chance…”
He glanced at the pen he offered with both hands. Teetering on the edge of saying something, he sighed softly and took it.
Leaving the door wide open, he exited the lecture room.
“What was that? Completely ridiculous.”
Watching him vanish down the hall, the moment the door closed, the other man started muttering, as if he’d been waiting for it. He wanted to get out immediately—he couldn’t stand the sight of him—but he was afraid that if he went out now, he might run into Seungjo again.
“Did you see him cussing just now? He always pretends to be so gentlemanly, and I knew he’d be like that. You can’t trust public image.”
He still didn’t want to face reality. He’d been so ashamed to be caught in a scene like that that he’d wished Seungjo would hurry and disappear—but when he did leave, he felt even more hollow and empty.
What was this sense of loss? It wasn’t even something he’d had.
He had to admit it. What he’d wanted so badly to reject earlier wasn’t actually his help; it was the look he would give him during the process: bored and contemptuous, in the end. He was afraid to place even a speck of burden on him because he feared even the slightest sign that he found him a nuisance.
“How dare he lay hands on me. I’m going straight to the front desk to complain and get an apology out of him. I’ll post on the board that an instructor assaulted a student—”
“Try it and see. Then I’ll press charges for what you did.”
He glared and warned. Alone with him now, he couldn’t stand the constant grumbling any longer. Assault… what assault? All that happened was a few seconds of unsightly grappling.
Good thing he hadn’t relied on Seungjo. If he’d done any more back there, this leech of a man would have latched on to him for life. Just like he was doing to him now.
Seeing him come out firmer than ever, the man hesitated, then gave a sleazy grin.
“Press charges? What did I do to deserve that, huh, Giyun?”
“I mean it. If you pull that crap, I really won’t let it slide.”
“Jeez, fine, fine. You were pretty shaken up too, huh?”
“Hands off.”
He shook off the hand kneading his shoulder with revulsion.
“That’s odd, why’d you get so prickly, huh?”
“I said hands off. Does my voice sound like a joke to you?”
“Okay, okay, I won’t. Then how about you give me a hug to comfort me?”
Was he actually insane? Did he even see him as human? With a feeling of humiliation, he shoved him away.
“I wanted to be as polite to you as possible. But this really isn’t it.”
“What are you even saying? What isn’t it?”
“Don’t lay a hand on me again. No matter how pathetic and easy I look, you don’t do that.”
“Hey, are you treating me like some criminal? That’s really offensive, you know?”
He scowled and stepped in. As he raised his guard and stepped back, the door banged open.
Incredibly, it was Seungjo again. They both froze.
“Mr. Eun Giyun.”
“Yes?”
Lowering his guard, he couldn’t hide his surprise. He hadn’t left? He’d assumed he had… Maybe he’d forgotten something else.
“Have you finished typing the commentary for Mock Test Session 14.”
It was an utterly businesslike tone. Nothing more or less than conveying a forgotten task. The slightly forceful door swing was a coincidence; he had returned to his usual composure.
“Session 14? That’s not yet…”
“When did I assign that, and it’s still not done?”
“Well…”
It was a scolding he didn’t deserve. He’d received the task today. The team in charge had sent the materials that morning, and it was due tomorrow.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do it right away.”
But given the other matter, he couldn’t say anything even if he’d had ten mouths, so he bowed without another word. What else could a worm do but crawl?
“Why are you still standing here?”
“…Right now?”
“When you said you’d do it right away, was that just a polite way to tell me to get lost?”
“Of course I should go now.”
Why did his mouth have to run like that. Without delay, he bolted.
Wow, what an ass. Left alone in the empty room, the other man clicked his tongue and grumbled, but neither he nor Seungjo paid him any mind.
Told to stop by the office to pick up additional materials, he followed him up to the seventh floor. He said nothing on the way, and he fidgeted, unable to get a read on him.
“Sir, I’ll get it done as fast as I can and hand it over to the academy…”
When they reached the office, he bowed his head and stopped mid-sentence. The corner of Seungjo’s mouth had tipped up ever so slightly.
“Why… are you smiling?”
It wasn’t like he’d done anything well… He left the rest unsaid. Seeing him smile after being so stiff just moments ago filled him with faint suspicion and made his heart flutter, even though it wasn’t the time.
With a gentle face, he answered.
“I was just thinking of how you said you work hard at your study group.”
It wasn’t gentle after all. One corner of his mouth was gradually lifting crooked. It was an intentional change in that perfectly symmetrical face.
“I hadn’t realized it was that physical; a study group that engages the whole body.”
The tone was soft; the content was not. His face flushed hot. It was more humiliating than if he’d just gotten angry outright.
So letting it slide as nothing wasn’t going to happen, huh. Well, to his eyes, he and that guy must have looked the same. Two rutting animals, perhaps.
He freshly regretted being entangled with that man. He should never have gone soft on him from the start. When he walked into the lecture room today, he should have thrown him out immediately or at least run.
No, he shouldn’t have gotten in his car to go eat in the first place. When the guy handled his body in the car, he should have made a scene and gotten out of there.
No, he shouldn’t have gone to the study group’s drinking party that day. The late regrets had no end.
And yet, he couldn’t help feeling both wronged and heartsore. If there was fault, it had been with that man from the beginning, not with him.
“It’s a misunderstanding. That was—”
“What misunderstanding. That you like men?”
Just as he was about to give a brief explanation, a difficult question cut in. His face, red with shame, now felt like it would go white. Beyond public indecency in a public place, there was another dimension to the problem. It wasn’t even with a woman; it was with a man, beyond indecent. Wouldn’t he find it disgusting?
Worse, the statement that he liked men was true, so he couldn’t even deny it.
“Are you trying to say that’s the misunderstanding?”
It was all over. Not that anything had ever begun…
“…That part’s not a misunderstanding, but…”
Once he said it, he couldn’t bear to look at him. He couldn’t even tell what expression he wore after a confession that was practically a coming-out. He pressed his lips together several times to hide the trembling.
“But that doesn’t mean I like that person. We’re nothing.”
“You toss off ‘enjoyment’ as if it’s nothing.”
The scoffing reply left him limp. At this point, explaining that they were nothing was just a meaningless cry.
Looking like “that kind of thing” with him, and then saying “we’re nothing” after staging that scene—his image had shifted from the former to the latter, and unfortunately, both were the worst in their own ways.
It seemed he’d been branded in a way beyond redemption. A horny brat who couldn’t control himself and did vile things with a study group member on academy grounds or rather, a faggot.
Maybe it would have been better to say nothing and hope the moment passed as quickly as possible.
“Honestly, whether you like men or whatever else is none of my business.”
He spoke coolly. Of course, worrying about how he appeared in the other’s eyes, who likely didn’t even consider him, had been his own selfishness.
“What I mean is, I’m not interested in your personal life.”
As if sprinkling salt in the wound, he made a point of repeating it. He probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but it brought back his own words from the lecture room, ‘don’t concern yourself with my personal matters’, and he dropped his head. He felt their relationship had grown distant, but he had no idea how to salvage it.
“It’s just a bit of a pity, the awful taste.”
“Awful… taste?”
“Can’t you do something about your eye for people.”
The offhand remark stuck in his ears. On that seemingly bland face, there was still a faint undertone of censure aimed at him.
He blinked vacantly. Whatever else, that he couldn’t agree with. At “taste,” a defiance he didn’t have before began to stir. He almost wanted to laugh at him.
“…My standards are high, actually.”
“Sure they are.”
With that timid backtalk, he let out a short, dry laugh. He was smiling, but his face was displeased. Word by deliberate word, he chewed out his warning.
“Seeing as how you’ve been hanging around trash like that, you seem to have lost all objectivity. Your eyes are on your feet, Mr. Eun.”
More wronged than ever, he slowly shook his head. Losing objectivity? His problem was that he was too good at self-objectivity and knowing his place.
“I… I’m someone who suffers because my standards are too high.”
“You suffer because your eyesight is bad. You live in a self-distorted world. Clock out and get your glasses checked.”
“…”
“Who knows how much garbage you’ve been meeting up with for that to come out of your mouth.”
He clicked his tongue. With 1.5 vision in both eyes, he lost the will to explain.
“As a test-taker, your mindset is rotten to be fooling around at all, but if you insist on playing at romance, at least do it with someone your own age. Why meet some older man?”
By “older man,” he obviously meant that guy.
“Even for a one-off, do you know how old that bastard is?”
“As I said, I’m not anything with Mr. Nam Chang-gon…”
Perhaps it was a mistake to specify, but his brow furrowed deeper. Even hearing the name made him look disgusted. In a smaller voice than before, he muttered,
“He’s late twenties… probably twenty-eight…”
“Aren’t you twenty-one, Mr. Eun?”
“And…?”
He paused deliberately. He clearly hoped he’d catch on, but he just stared blankly. So, for the arithmetically challenged, he gave an example.
“Get a grip. When you were just born, that guy was already in elementary school.”
“…”
“When you were in elementary school, that bastard was in college.”
“…And?”
If he’d thought that would land even a little, he was mistaken. Whether the gap was a few years or more, he didn’t care. It was his business, but it felt like none of his business.
By that logic, he and Seungjo were worse. The other (Chang-gon) had been only a first-grader then, but Seungjo would have been in sixth.
When he was straining in the delivery room to come out of his mother’s belly, wasn’t Seungjo writing a personal statement to get into an international middle school?
Knowing that gulf in years, he still liked him. What could he do?
“You don’t think a seven-year gap is a problem?”
“Honestly… more is fine with me…”
He knew it wasn’t the thing to say now, but he blurted out his true feelings again. It faintly resembled the indirect confession he’d made on the café terrace. He doubted he’d catch on from a line like that, but he felt a flush of embarrassment all the same.
“Is age really… that important?”
He fell silent again, but not by design this time. He looked so shockingly thoughtless that, for a moment, he was at a loss for words.
“So, a man is fine, and much older is fine.”
“…”
“You’re severe. How do you manage to pick only words that could get you in serious trouble?”
With a colder face, he fixed him in his gaze. The judgment in that look came through plain.
“As long as your desires get satisfied, it doesn’t matter who the other person is?”
“Desires—no, it’s not like that…”
“Color me surprised. I knew you can’t tell a person by their exterior, but still.”
He bit his lip. By “surprised,” he knew he didn’t mean anything good.
“I don’t know what you get up to out there, but at the very least, in front of me, watch your conduct.”
“…”
“If I catch you at something like today’s again, I won’t overlook it.”
“…Are you going to fire me?”
“Is that really all you’re afraid of?”
Is that all? As if. It meant the world to him.
The reason he didn’t want to quit being a TA wasn’t just the money. He liked that he could at least see him from nearby. The time to let someone out of sight to let them fade from mind had already slipped past. If he had to nurse a hopeless crush anyway, surely it was better to do it by his side.
“In that case, I’ll actively consider it.”
With no way of knowing his heart, he left a blithe reply like that.
“Get the file entered and submitted by tomorrow.”
He’d planned to do it by tomorrow anyway… He looked up at him with a face full of unsaid words, but he merely pushed up his shirt cuff to check his watch. Back in full business mode, he wore the expression of someone who’d shaken off any interest in him.
He wanted to say something, but had no idea what. Talking only felt like ruining whatever this was. In the end, he turned away without a word.
Because the elevator was packed, he took the stairs down. He tried to organize his messy head as he went, step by step. Everything was such a wreck, he didn’t even know where to start reflecting and regretting.
When he reached the second floor, where the big lecture halls were, he spotted a familiar piece of stationery. A pen lay snapped clean in two on the emergency exit floor. It was a store-bought item, so there was no way to know its owner, but it was the same type as the one Seungjo had been looking for in the lecture room.
Who would throw a pen out like that? A bad feeling crept over him, and he hurried down.
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