A low voice cut through the blurred gabble of the circle of boys.

“Dong Joon, Dong Joon, when are you going to learn?”   A hush fell. 

And Jinki watched over the kid he now knew as Dong Joon’s shoulder as a tall boy, fully decked out in soccer gear slid through the ring, boys opening before him like the sea rolling back from Moses.    The stranger shook his head with half-drooped eyelids, long dark locks held back in a messy ponytail which swayed alluringly with the movement, sweat sticking the grass-stained white shirt to the divot between well defined pectorals and ridges of abdominal muscles, dirt and scratches marring a tanned length of knee and calf.

Jinki gasped in a breath at the beauty heading his way.  He’d had crushes before, of course, felt attraction to men and knew he was gay.  He’d already experimented as much as he dared with those he felt he could trust with the information and his body.  But this, this was different.   One look and something lurched, felt like it physically lurched in his chest, and he had to quickly use some well-worn meditation techniques to even out his jerky breathing.  It wasn’t a good idea to give any response that Dong Joon might interpret as fear. 

The bully dropped his upraised fist, but only gripped Jinki’s jacket even tighter in his other hand, dragging him along as he stepped toward the taller boy.

“This doesn’t concern you, Minho…why don’t you just run along back to all those pretty soccer boys you love so much?  Or maybe go wagging your tongue at Coach again?”  Dong Joon sneered, “Yeah, Coach seems to like you, Number 10.  Guess there’s a reason you’re his favorite, eh?” 

As Joon kept talking, Minho’s eyes lost the lazy look and filled with intensity- the kind of stare that promised retribution. 

“Dong Joon.”  Minho’s voice was deadly.  “You should stop talking.”

“Oh, why is that,” the arrogant reply came, “because you’re afraid everyone will find out that you’re just like this kid-“  Dong Joon shook Jinki roughly, “a ert who likes to -fu-Umph!”

Minho hauled off and punched Dong Joon in the stomach.  He didn’t put all his force into it, only enough to interrupt the spewing from his mouth.  Unfortunately, he didn’t release the auburn-haired student, and the punch made them both double over in a strange parody of a 90 degree bow.  Minho huffed.  The poor kid hadn’t even done anything and now he was all twisted over, his glasses bounced to the floor.    

For Minho’s part, he didn’t even know the new kid, didn’t know what had provoked the attack, but he was against bullying in all its forms.  Ever since his younger step-brother Taemin had been driven nearly to suicide at his middle school, Minho made it his mission to take care of situations like this one whenever possible.  It wasn’t the first time he and Dong Joon had crossed paths.  Speaking of which…

“You know how I feel about this-and what happened last time will happen this time too, Joon- do you really want to repeat your senior year yet again?”

Dong Joon looked up with a grimace.   “Yeah, well this time will be different…”  At a head jerk, Joon’s buddies suddenly clamped down on Minho’s arms and neck, immobilizing the soccer star before he had time to react.  They might not have been the brightest crayons in the box, but all three of them did have at least 20 pounds on Minho- each.   Joon stood up with a grunt of pain, bringing the still-silent Jinki upright as well.

“You think you’re so popular and such a star, but you’re about to find out just what happens when you cross me, Minho.  I think it’s gonna be hard for you to keep playing with a couple of cracked ribs.” 

Joon laughed cruelly.  “But first I think I’m gonna make you watch as I beat the crap out of this one.” 

He tugged his hapless victim in front of himself, one arm clenching across the front of the shorter boy’s chest, pressing his forearm into the kid’s throat.  He leered down at him in anticipation; sickly satisfied to think that that self-righteous boy-lover would finally get knocked down a peg.

Jinki shuddered in repressed anger.  How dare this kid threaten his crushes’ body?  If anyone was going to put marks on that boy’s body, it was gonna be him, and with way fewer observers.

Joon, of course misread the cue.  “Aww…look at that…what a scared wittle wabbit….don’t worry little bunny, I won’t go quite as far as to cut off your foot for a charm…”  He laughed, and the crowd echoed in intimidated chuckles.

Minho struggled helplessly to free his arms.   His frustrated gaze caught that of the boy held in Joon’s clutches.  He stopped fighting his captors, completely confused.  Did….did that kid just…wink?!? And…was he smiling????

Jinki was completely prepared to take a beating.  He had promised his mother to stop fighting.  She had worked three jobs and went without sleep and sometimes without food, just to afford this move.  To get her precious baby out of the dangerous, low-rent neighborhood full of thugs and thieves.  All so he would have the chance to attend a school that would develop his intellect (which was close to genius level) rather than his street-smarts.  

But then a knight in deliciously non-shiny armor showed up to rescue him.   A knight named Minho who was about to take a beating as well- just because he was willing to stand up to the school bully.  So Jinki abruptly changed his plans.   He caught Minho’s gaze, considered the options, said a mental “ it”, and winked.   He grinned- Minho just didn’t understand which one of them was really the damsel in distress.