“This is so stupid,” Himchan complained, leaning back in his seat in homeroom. “Cultural festivals are so dumb. Especially because our stupid middle schoolers will be there.”

Yongguk shrugged his shoulders. He happened to agree with Himchan that the cultural festival was stupid – nobody cared about dressing up in weird costumes and eating strange foods and all that other nonsense – but he happened to be kind of excited about getting to spend the day with Junhong. Having to spend the day with Junhong, if his friends asked.

It had been a few months now since he’d started hanging out with his middle schooler by choice – not that he’d admit that to Himchan or the others – and he’d definitely changed because of it. It had been nearly that long since he’d beat someone up, and even longer since he’d last slept with someone who wasn’t Junhong.

Himchan suddenly snapped his fingers in front of Yongguk’s face. “Yah, pay attention to me,” he whined. “You’re spacing out again! You’re always spacing out these days!”

“Sorry,” Yongguk muttered, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“What?” Himchan demanded. “What on earth do you have on your mind that’s made you a space cadet for ages now? What’s on your mind that you can’t tell me? I’m your best friend, right?”

“Of course you’re my best friend,” Yongguk assured him. “It’s just…I don’t know. It’s not important, okay?”

Himchan huffed and crossed his arms but let the matter drop. Yongguk was infinitely grateful. He definitely didn’t want to have that particular conversation with Himchan. Not ever. He shuddered at the very thought.

Because it was the cultural festival, normal classes were suspended after homeroom and the various classes went to get their booths ready. It was close to noon when the festival actually started, and the middle schoolers came to enjoy the festivities.

Yongguk was supposed to be selling crepes – his class had been assigned France – but instead of selling he was sitting at the back of the booth playing on his cell phone when he got a text from Junhong. “Where are you?” he asked.

Yongguk quickly typed back a reply, giving directions through the maze of booths to the one belonging to his homeroom.

Junhong arrived fairly quickly, appearing out of nowhere with his heavy coat and his usual mask even though the weather was leaning towards hot these days. “Hi, hyung,” he greeted Yongguk cheerfully. Then he stopped. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Yongguk managed to blush – something that he definitely didn’t do often – and he quickly ripped off the stupid beret the class representative had insisted they all wear. “They made me wear it, okay? Quit looking at me like that.”

Himchan, standing nearby, watched this exchange with something close to amazement. “Hyung,” he said suddenly. “Who is that?”

Yongguk froze, breaking out into a cold sweat immediately. “Uh, this is my middle schooler, Junhong,” he muttered. “Junhong-ah, this is my best friend, Himchan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, hyung,” Junhong said politely, bowing.

Himchan’s usually handsome face pulled up in a sneer. “I don’t think we know one another well enough for you to call me hyung,” he said nastily. “Yongguk, let’s go get something to eat, okay? This place is driving me crazy.”

Yongguk hesitated. On the one hand, he really would rather go off with Junhong. Though the culture festival was totally lame, he was sure he’d have a good time sneaking off somewhere to talk with Junhong. Even if all they did was chat, he knew he’d have a good time. On the other hand, he couldn’t have Himchan getting suspicious. His best friend already seemed to dislike Junhong, and he didn’t need to give Himchan any more reason to hate him.

“I’ll see you later,” Yongguk muttered, feeling infinitely guilty when Junhong’s eyes – the only part of his face that Yongguk could see with his mask on – looked sad.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Okay. Yeah. Catch you later.” And he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Yongguk feeling terrible.

“Man, that ,” Himchan chuckled, clapping Yongguk on the back. “And I thought my middle schooler was lame. Yours is a whole new standard! Why is he wearing that huge coat? It’s already May!”

Yongguk tried not to get defensive, as he knew that would only make Himchan more suspicious. “I don’t know,” he muttered grumpily. “He’s just weird, I guess. Let’s go get something to eat already. I want to get out of here before they actually make us work.”

Himchan seemed placated once they had left their homeroom’s booth, chatting eagerly about how happy he was to get away from his annoying middle schooler and how stupid the whole cultural festival was and on and on. Yongguk nodded and forced a smile, but his mind was stuck back with Junhong and the sad look he’d given Yongguk when the elder had ditched him for Himchan.

Yongguk couldn’t stand it for more than an hour. After that he made up some lame excuse about going to the bathroom to get away from Himchan.

Unfortunately, his best friend was definitely starting to get suspicious. “You’re not going to go meet up with that middle schooler, are you?” he demanded. “You’ve been hanging out with that kid an awful lot.”

“Of course I’m not,” Yongguk scoffed, heart pounding and palms sweaty and a feeling of dread settling heavily in his stomach. “I’m just going to take a leak. Jeez, suspicious much?”

Himchan chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait for you here.”

And so Yongguk had no choice but to go into the bathroom – even though he really didn’t need to go – and then rejoin Himchan. There was just no way that he could go and meet up with Junhong now.

“I’m sorry about today at school,” he texted Junhong the second he got home. “My friends are starting to get super suspicious about how much time I spend with you.”

Junhong’s answer had been short and brusque. “Ok.”

Yongguk wanted to curl up into a little ball. “Are you mad at me?” he asked next.

Junhong’s lack of a response was answer enough.

Yongguk was in a pretty bad mood by the time school resumed on Monday. Junhong hadn’t answered his texts often, and, when he did, the replies were short and to the point. It was obvious he was upset with Yongguk for ditching him.

But maybe it was for the best, Yongguk thought miserably. If he spent less time with the kid, his friends wouldn’t be as suspicious and he wouldn’t have to be looking over his shoulder all the time. Yeah, this was definitely for the better.

Except that Yongguk was pretty ing down without Junhong texting him, calling him, hanging out with him. He hadn’t realized just how attached he’d gotten to the little weirdo until Junhong was no longer a permanent attachment.

“What’s gotten into you?” Yongjoo asked one afternoon after Yongguk had called her on the phone, miserable. “You sound like somebody shot your dog.” She hesitated. “Did you and Junhong have a fight?”

Yongguk snorted, fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. “We were never really together, noona,” he admitted. “Not officially or anything.”

Yongjoo paused. “I take it this means you had a fight or something.”

“Not really,” he muttered. Then he sighed. “I was supposed to hang out with Junhong at the school cultural festival but Himchan was there and he was giving me grief and so I ditched Junhong to hang out with Himchan. I didn’t want to, but I did. And now Junhong isn’t really talking to me. But it’s a good thing. It’s probably a good thing if we distance ourselves.”

Yongjoo scoffed. “You ditched Junhong because you were afraid of what Himchan would think?” she demanded. “He’s not the one whose feelings you should be worrying about, baby brother. Quit being an .” And she hung up on him.

Yongguk sighed and flung himself back onto his bed, throwing his phone across the room. It was easy enough for Yongjoo to say. She wasn’t the one who was going to have to deal with the inevitable backlash, the losing of her reputation, the disowning by parents and friends alike. Yongjoo could talk big, but she wasn’t in his shoes. She couldn’t possible understand.

Yongguk sighed moodily and turned over to face the wall. 

I sort of want to slap Yongguk right now. 

But in a loving, ultimate bias sort of way.