Fresh Junior Kim Seokjin transferred into the new school. Head Boy Namjoon Feels his blood boiling every time he sees this new boy, at least that's what he says to his boyfriend Min Yoongi. But is there any chemistry or Is something possible?
It had been the wrong move because his already impossibly high pleasure shot up to the next level. He grabbed the arm of the chair with his free hand and groaned as he came all over his chest. "Fucking A," Namjoon whispered, and Jin felt a second round landing on his abdomen, some of the cum spreading over his fingers as he continued to keep the guy's cock in his tight grip.
He closed his eyes again. It was official. He was losing his mind, and he was doing it over a straight boy who could turn him into his puppet at a snap of the fingers.
"I need to go wash," he said abruptly and almost pushed Namjoon hard enough to make him land on his ass. Good thing Namjoon wasn't some feeble character. He managed to get on his feet just fine as Jin pushed past him and rushed into the shower.
So that had been mind-blowing and a letdown at the same time. Namjoon didn't follow Jin into the shower and just began to pick up his clothes from where he had left them. He had his pride, after all, and the guy had just kind of pissed on it by running to wash like his cum was radioactive or something.
Really, he couldn't get out faster if the entire building was on fire. Was Jin one of those people who couldn't stand to be touched by others? The kind who worried about microbes and stuff all the time? That reaction at the end had left him completely stunned. Otherwise, the other's smooth hand on his dick had been pure fucking pleasure, just as his moans and the way he tilted his head back had provided Namjoon with fresh new entries to his spank bank.
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Fuck, he needed to find a way to take his mind off Jin. No wonder he was still a virgin at twenty; he probably couldn't stand other dudes and their cum, and just imagined himself gay so that he didn't have to confront his phobias. Or maybe, just maybe, he couldn't stand Namjoon's cum, which was bad because coming all over those nice hard pecks and abs had been practically everything.
He walked over to the showers and just washed his hands in a sink. "I'll leave the key in the door," he shouted. "Make sure to lock on your way out and put the key under the third flower pot on the right, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer.
If Jin couldn't stand him, he wouldn't stand him, either. Namjoon pursed his lips and marched out of the room. To say that had been a blow to his ego was to put it lightly.
Namjoon waited for the sound of departing steps to die out. He slammed his hand against the wall hard, again and again, waiting for the pain to flare until the hammering in his chest would finally give in. He couldn't allow himself to do that, no matter how forthcoming Namjoon seemed to be.
The disaster called Dahyun had almost cost him everything, and he wouldn't turn this into another. There were only this many chances someone like him could take. Namjoon chewed on his gum mindlessly while letting his mind wander off.
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These days, he was off most of the time as he seemed incapable of getting that thing with Jin out of his head. He had turned into the equivalent of a socially inadequate porcupine, and people preferred to get out of his way, allowing him the needed berth for him to work out of his system whatever he needed to work out of his system.
