Cam Baby

Chapter 1

Okay, so Jackson wasn’t bad looking; sometimes, if he tries to actually dress up, he could pass off as a really smoking hot and ripped dude.

Girls dig the look—all you had to do was look at how many girls flocked to Wonho at parties to see so—but they didn’t seem to dig the look on him.  

It’s not like he couldn’t get get dates—he could, actually—but none of them really lasted as long as he wished they would.

Girls found him annoying, really—“like a puppy,” his ex told him when they were breaking up, “but like a really fucking annoying one that you want to kick.”

(He’s glad he broke up with her because kicking puppies? That’s a big no in his book.)

They also found him too loud, too desperate, too—what’s the word? –much.

It’s not like he only tries withhold; he's had plenty of guys lovers—he hated being a bistander in love—but those never really worked out either.

Either he wasn’t too dominant enough or he wasn’t what they wanted in a guy.

Jooheon, his ex and now best friend, says it’s because he gives off confusing vibes.

“It’s like you give off dominant—your son also calls me Daddy—but then you reveal your true self, which is this soft—I need to be cuddled after being fucked—vibes,” Jooheon finishes.

Was it really his fault that he preferred having it in the ass than giving?
Why did God hate him so much and make so fucking attractive but yet but have a single person wanting to tap this?

He let's out a groan as he slowly dies inside; the world was such a cruel, cruel place.

“Could you die a little bit quieter?” his best friend since the fucking womb, Jinyoung, asks, barely glancing toward the elder.

Jackson pouts, turning puppy eyes onto Jinyoung.

The younger merely hands him a tray of French fries before going back to ignoring the dumbass. Jooheon snorts, waggling his eyebrows at Jinyoung.

“You should date Youngie  if you’re looking for someone so badly, hyung,” he smirks as Jinyoung's face grew redder.  Jackson merely shakes his head in annoyance.

“I can’t do that; Youngie’s a friend to me. Right, Jinyoung?”

Maybe if he’d actually paid attention, he’d have seen the look of longing on Jinyoung’s face; instead, he paid more attention to the French fries, which may be his last real meal before he gets back.

“That’s right, hyung,” Jinyoung says fondly, looking far off in the distance. “Besides, I could do better than Jackson-hyung.”

That actually wasn’t a lie; all of his friends could do better than him. Jinyoung was the sophisticated and elusive bottom that every gay guy seems to lust over.

It wasn’t surprising for the younger to get a number written on his coffee cup or slipped into the drink.

(After that, Jinyoung would never go to that café; “I could’ve been poisoned,” he complains but Jackson thinks he’s just being petty, and his wallet can’t help but agree.)

 
And there’s Kunpimook Bhuwakul, or if you prefer an easier name, “just call me Bambam. I can steal your bitch if I wanted to.” 

This ended him in a spot below Jackson in Jinyoung’s book but a new puppy in Jackson.

Though the younger was petite, he wasn’t quiet; like Jackson, he was as loud or maybe even louder than Jackson, but guys still wanted him.

This was something he couldn’t fathom: guys could actually stand loud people.