So while Yi-hyeon was staring at him as if spellbound, a speck of white dust—something like a dandelion seed—settled onto Han Jun’s long, thick eyebrow.
If it gets into his eye, it’ll sting… Should I get it off before he opens them?
As that thought crossed his mind, Yi-hyeon’s fingertips had already begun moving carefully toward Han Jun’s eye. The moment he became aware of what he was doing, he thought oh shit, but his hand was already extended. He planned to create the faintest breeze and blow it away without Han Jun noticing.
Just as his small hand, trembling faintly, stopped at the tip of those slightly curled, long lashes—his fingers coming together, about to gently send out a breath of air—Han Jun opened his eyes, grumbling about why things felt so tense all of a sudden.
Startled, Yi-hyeon slowly curled the hand that had stopped near Han Jun’s eye into a fist and sucked in a breath, freezing.
“I-It’s not that—there was something like dust on your eyebrow…!”
“What did I say for you to go and say ‘it’s not that’ again? Dust or whatever, why aren’t you hitting me? You weren’t hitting me at all, so I thought you were about to kiss me or something.”
“Ar-Are you crazy? What kind of kissing between guys? Kissing, my ass!”
Telling him not to say such ridiculous things, Yi-hyeon hurriedly pulled his hand back. Han Jun stared straight through him for a moment, then spoke in a slightly displeased tone.
“So you’re that kind of prejudiced person? Didn’t know that.”
“It’s not prejudice—!”
Yi-hyeon wasn’t a prejudiced person. If he were, he wouldn’t have developed feelings for Han Jun in the first place. It was just something he blurted out as a way to dodge the situation, unable to reveal his own feelings—but somehow, he’d ended up being labeled prejudiced instead.
Ding-dong-daeng-dong—
While Yi-hyeon was stumbling over his words in flustered confusion, the bell signaling the start of class rang, and the noisy chatter of students heading back to their classrooms filled the air. Han Jun glanced down the main building hallway, then said that if Yi-hyeon wasn’t going to hit him, never mind, and gathered his books. As he did, he muttered to himself.
“Man, if you don’t hit me, I don’t even feel motivated to study. Guess I shouldn’t study with Yoon Yi-hyeon anymore.”
“Huh? What do you mean by that?”
Startled by the thought that he might not be able to spend even these small moments with Han Jun anymore, Yi-hyeon asked with a flinch in his expression.
“Well, you know. Studying’s something where you make bets and wagers, set goals, and that’s what gives you motivation. But doing it with you, who has zero motivation, I get ab-so-lutely no drive at all.”
As Han Jun started to get up from his seat, Yi-hyeon grabbed the textbook he was holding and stopped him. Then, with eyes that had lost much of their earlier fire, he looked up at him.
Han Jun’s eyebrow twitched briefly.
“Really?”
When Yi-hyeon asked in an incredulous tone, Han Jun widened his eyes.
“What is?”
“Are you really not going to study with me?”
Looking down at Yi-hyeon, Han Jun blinked a couple of times, then pulled his previously relaxed mouth into a sharp grin.
“It’s not that I won’t study.”
“Then?”
“Memorizing vocabulary, raising scores—those things are only fun if you make bets with each other. You get more motivated trying to beat the other person no matter what, and your efficiency goes up too.”
“So?”
“What do you mean, ‘so’? Studying bets need back-and-forth, but all you’re doing is ti-ti-ti-ti, so it’s boring. The efficiency doesn’t go up. Efficiency.”
After lowering his gaze and hesitating for a moment, Yi-hyeon lifted his head again and looked at Han Jun. Then he swallowed once and opened his mouth.
“Then… how about a different bet? Not hitting.”
“Something else? Like what?”
“If I don’t get a single question wrong on the next exam…”
If I say this, will he start doubting my feelings?
Yi-hyeon stopped mid-sentence and bit down hard on his small lip.
“You stop talking halfway through. What is it? What do you want to do?”
At Han Jun’s urging, Yi-hyeon decided he couldn’t take his words back now. Lowering his gaze slightly, he continued.
“Doing something the other person wants to see…”
“Say it louder. Louder.”
“Watching a movie the other person wants to see together… something like that.”
As embarrassment washed over him the moment the words left his mouth, Yi-hyeon tightened his grip on the textbook. Han Jun glanced sideways at the slightly crumpled book.
“What do you think a bet is?”
“Huh?”
“A bet is something where you stake something the other person doesn’t want to do.”
Bending his waist deeply to meet Yi-hyeon at eye level, Han Jun continued, face close to his.
“If you stake something you want to do, what’s the point?”
For some reason, the surrounding noise that usually tormented Yi-hyeon faded away completely, leaving only Han Jun’s voice lingering like an echo, swirling chaotically around his ears.
Yi-hyeon felt like he was about to be swallowed whole by the raging waves inside those black eyes fixed on him.
“You… you want to? With me?”
“Yeah. I want to. Even right now.”
Just making eye contact makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode. And he says things like that without even blinking.
Unlike Yi-hyeon, whose heart felt on the verge of bursting, Han Jun spoke casually and let out a small laugh. His overly calm demeanor felt like a warning—telling Yi-hyeon not to cross the line of friendship.
This must be what people mean by a difference in emotional weight. The more they talked, the more Yi-hyeon felt like Han Jun’s feelings toward him were answering no—that they were nothing more than friendship. Slowly, his mood sank. When Yi-hyeon remained silent, Han Jun spoke again.
“You can watch movies anytime, so I don’t like that as a bet topic. Let’s choose something else.”
“Something else… like what?”
Yi-hyeon asked, his face slightly downcast, still unable to rein in his emotions.
“Hmm, well… something like stripping completely naked in front of the other person and writing your name with your ass—that’s the kind of thing that’s so awful you’d study with your eyes blazing just to avoid it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Yi-hyeon answered firmly.
“Oooh, look at that. You can barely talk usually and your voice always trails off, but you’re real decisive about this. Then you decide.”
At Han Jun’s words, Yi-hyeon thought for a moment, then opened his mouth, asking if this would work.
“How about granting the winner’s wish—the person with the higher score on the next exam?”
“Any wish?”
Han Jun asked in a surprisingly serious voice, the smile fading from his face. Yi-hyeon hesitated before answering.
“Uh, well, I mean… something the other person can realistically do. Like, buying a house would be a bit difficult.”
“You said it just has to be a wish you can grant, right? Those were your exact words.”
“Huh? Uh—yeah… I mean… yeah.”
Han Jun’s enthusiastic reaction made Yi-hyeon feel uneasy, but seeing how pleased he looked as he agreed to it, Yi-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to take back what he’d said. Then, noticing that Han Jun’s textbook had been crumpled by his own grip, Yi-hyeon quickly let go and apologized.
***
“Huh? Where did it go?”
Looking for his math notebook, Yi-hyeon recalled how, not long ago, Wonseok had taken it without permission and photographed it with his tablet.
“Ah… if you’re going to borrow it, at least put it back where it belongs.”
Complaining that he had no idea what Wonseok did during class, only to take his notebook without a word every time it ended, Yi-hyeon closed his locker and turned around. Then, annoyed that Wonseok hadn’t even returned the notebook—while skipping school and ignoring messages—Yi-hyeon went to find Haejun to ask about Wonseok’s locker password.
“You fucking bastard. How the hell would I know that?”
Even if he did know it, Haejun’s stubborn refusal made it clear he wouldn’t tell. Thinking yeah, figures, Yi-hyeon had no choice but to play hardball.
“If Seo Wonseok doesn’t even read my messages and you say you don’t know either, I guess I’ll have to ask the teacher for Seo Wonseok’s parents’ number or something.”
“Are you insane? Why the hell would you ask for that?”
“I told you already. Seo Wonseok took my notebook. Then I have to think of a way to get it back, don’t I?”
“Wow, you little shit. Hanging around that personality-disaster bastard must’ve rubbed off on you—now you’re threatening people? Now I feel like absolute shit, so I’m even less inclined to tell you.”
Haejun said with a displeased expression.
“Fine, then. I’ll figure it out myself.”
Leaving Haejun behind as he twitched his upper lip, Yi-hyeon walked toward Wonseok’s locker.
When Yi-hyeon merely pretended to try opening it, Haejun approached, shouting about what that beggar bastard thought he was doing, trying to steal something.
