Twisted || Hoonsuk ||

Chapter two

“Something wrong?” said a familiar voice before an arm was slung around Hyunsuk's shoulders. Hyunsuk glanced at Mashiho, but kept walking. Their next class was going to start in ten minutes and it was one he couldn’t be late for.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Spill.” His friend’s dark brown eyes were fixed on him curiously. Hyunsuk shrugged. “I’m broke. And on top of that, they’re going to terminate my scholarship if I don’t improve my grades in three classes.” Mashiho frowned. “I thought you already talked to Bates and
Summers and explained your situation.” Sighing, Hyunsuk raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah. But there’s also Fluid Mechanics.” Mashiho grimaced. “Professor Park.”

“Yep,” Hyunsuk said miserably. The school’s youngest tenured professor, Park Jihoon had the nickname “Professor Asshole” for a reason. Strict and harsh, he set
impossibly high standards for students and despised those who failed to achieve them. He didn’t tolerate “laziness.” And since Hyunsuk missed too many of his lectures and often didn’t have time to complete his
assignments, he was probably one of Jihoon's least favorite students—if the man even had favorite students.

The chances of Jihoon cutting him some slack were nonexistent. Jihoon didn’t cut anyone any slack. His
demands bordered on ridiculous, but in the board’s eyes Jihoon could do no wrong, since he garnered a lot of research grants—like, a lot.

Hyunsuk had to give Jihoon credit—one didn’t become such a highly respected researcher by the age of twenty-five if one wasn’t incredibly intelligent—
but it didn’t change the fact that the guy was a total asshole.

“What are you going to do?” Mashiho said.
“No idea.” Hyunsuk made his way to their usual seats at the front of the lecture hall: Jihoon had ordered him and Mashiho to sit there all the time after he had caught them talking during his class. Hyunsuk sat down and sighed. “What should I do?”

“I wish I could help you.” Mashiho dropped into a seat next to him. “But you know I’m a bit tight on the money, too.” Hyunsuk nodded. Mashiho lived at his grandmother’s and helped her as much as he could. His parents worked in another country and weren’t much
of a help. “What about your aunt?” Mashiho said. “I thought she used to help you out when things got tough.”
Hyunsuk paused and gave him a look. “She died last year, Mashi. I told you that.”

Mashiho's face flushed bright red. “Shit, I’m sorry—I don’t know how I—” Hyunsuk shook his head. “Forget it.” It wasn’t that Mashiho didn’t care; he was just very sociable and had more friends than Hyunsuk had
acquaintances. No wonder it had slipped out of his mind.

“What about your cousin—Daniel?” Mashiho smiled sheepishly. “See, I’m not completely hopeless! I remember him!” Hyunsuk laughed. “You are hopeless. He just recently got out of prison, and he needs to sort out his life. He doesn’t need my problems on top of his
own. Anyway, I wasn’t asking about money. I meant Professor Park. If I don’t get good grades in his class, I’ll lose the scholarship and will have to drop out.” Though sometimes Hyunsuk wondered if it would be better to drop out: if he didn’t have school to attend, it would improve his chances of finding a half-decent job. Except a college degree would increase his chances of finding a well-paid job and giving Emily and Bee everything
they needed as they grew up.

“Actually,” Mashiho said suddenly. “I’ve heard an interesting rumor about Professor Park.”

“What rumor?”

Mashiho glanced around, as though to make sure no one could hear them, before leaning in and murmuring into Hyunsuk's ear, “Tucker says
Professor Park has a weakness for pretty boys.”
Hyunsuk blinked. “No way. He was just messing with you!”

“Nope, he was dead serious. Apparently someone saw Professor Park with a young guy all over him.”
Hyunsuk chuckled, shaking his head. “Even if it’s true, what does it have to do with me?”

Mashiho gave him a pointed Hyunsuk opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mashiho wiggled his eyebrows. “Tucker says professor Park has a thing for blonds.”

“Unlucky for you, then.” Smiling, Mashiho ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “Pfft. If I
wanted to, it wouldn’t matter. But you’ve got it easy, blondie. Come on, man, it’s a perfect solution!”
Hyunsuk gave him a pinched look. “There’s a tiny problem, though. I’m straight.”

His friend didn’t look fazed; he actually had the nerve to laugh. “So what? I’m not telling you to take it up the ass. Though it can actually feel very, very good if the other guy knows what he’s doing.” Mashiho grinned,
and Hyunsuk snorted. Mashiho was bisexual and had no problem admitting his love for cock.

“Mashi—”

“I’m just saying you can be all flirty and shit without actually doing anything with him, you know? You’ve got the looks. I mean—you’re not my type, but I’m not blind. You’re hot. Easily the hottest guy in the uni.”

“You aren’t exactly an ugly duckling, either.” Everyone loved Mashiho. He might not be classically handsome, but practically everyone found him attractive. Mashiho was hard to look away from. Hyunsuk might be straight, but even he sometimes stopped and stared when his friend smiled. Mashiho winked. “Definitely not an ugly duckling, but I ain’t as pretty as you, princess.”

“Oh, I’ll show you, princess!” Hyunsuk got him into a headlock, both of them laughing.
“Mr. Choi, Mr. Takata, if you are quite done?” came a cold voice from behind them.

Hyunsuk froze before letting go of his friend and straightening up. He didn’t dare look at Jihoon as the man moved past them to his desk. The lecture hall suddenly became quiet. “Fuck,” Mashiho whispered when Jihoon stopped in front of his desk and remained silent.

Hyunsuk bit his lip hard and stole a glance at the professor. Jihoon's dark eyes were fixed on Mashiho, his dark brows furrowed and his lips pursed in displeasure. Even when he wasn’t unhappy with someone,
Professor Park's gaze could make anyone squirm. When he actually was unhappy, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his heavy stares.

Hyunsuk thought he looked like a hawk, ready to swoop down and catch its prey. Jihoon's eyes moved from Mashiho to him. If possible, he looked even more displeased now, a muscle pulsing in his cheek. Hyunsuk's stomach tightened into a knot. He wet his dry lips and tried to look as respectful aspossible, forcing himself to meet the professor’s eyes firmly.

He wasn’t a coward, dammit. Jihoon was just a man.
Jihoon's lips thinned. “Mr. Choi,” he said quietly.
Hyunsuk swallowed convulsively. There was something about Jihoon's voice that made it more menacing the quieter it got.

“Yes, Professor?”

“If you and Mr. Takata are not interested in what I am here to teach, you may leave.” Looking at the man’s hard expression, Hyunsuk suddenly remembered Mashiho's advice and nearly laughed out loud—so ridiculous it was.

“No, sir. I mean, we’re very interested.” When not a single muscle moved on Jihoon's face, Hyunsuk added, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you after class about my grades.”

Jihoon looked at him for a few moments before offering a cool response, “I don’t have office hours today.” He sat down behind his desk and started his lecture.

Hyunsuk looked at him blankly, unsure what Jihoon's answer was supposed to mean. Was that yes or no? As in, “I don’t have office hours, so you may come” or “I don’t have office hours, so you can’t”?

Great.

Fantastic.

Hyunsuk sighed.