The quiet click of the front door echoed through the house as Beomgyu stepped inside, a soft, distant smile resting on his lips. It wasn't bright, but it held a warmth—residue from the intimate time he had just spent with Yeonjun. The ghost of the older man's touch still lingered on his skin, the taste of his kisses fresh on his lips. Beomgyu stood still for a moment near the door, eyes fluttering shut as he replayed those memories. He couldn't believe he had fallen so deeply—for someone he shouldn't. A teacher. A relationship painted in warning signs.
But how could he regret something that felt so real?
Love was never easy. And the more forbidden it became, the more fiercely it grew inside him.
Still lost in thought, Beomgyu made his way toward the living room—only to halt the moment he stepped in.
His mother stood by the television with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her gaze struck him like lightning. Cold. Severe. Unyielding. His stomach twisted instantly.
"M-Mom, I… I didn't know you were home," he greeted weakly, voice betraying his nerves. "How are you?"
Mrs. Choi didn't respond. Instead, she slowly advanced toward him with a calm so unsettling it made his knees weaken. Then—
SLAP.
The sharp crack rang through the house. His head jerked to the side, cheek stinging from the blow. He froze in disbelief, clutching the side of his face as his wide eyes met hers.
"You are unbelievable, Beomgyu!" she exploded. "An affair with your teacher?! Kissing him in public? Have you lost your mind?!"
She thrust a photo in his face. The image said it all. Him and Yeonjun, locked in a kiss.
"I didn't raise you to be like this! What would people say if they found out? Do you have any idea what this could do to our family?! You're destroying our name, our dignity!"
Beomgyu could hardly breathe. Words failed him. The air felt thick, like he was drowning in it. His chest heaved as panic set in. Why… Why did it have to be her who found out?
"I'm telling your father," she continued, her voice trembling with fury. "And first thing tomorrow, I'm reporting that man to your school. He'll be out of your life—for good."
"No—Mom, please!" Beomgyu finally found his voice, eyes glistening with panic. "Don't report him. Please. I'll do anything. Just don't ruin his career."
He rushed forward, grabbing her hands, kneeling in front of her as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he cried. "Please, Mom… Yeonjun means so much to me. He didn't hurt me. He's not like that. I—I love him."
His voice cracked on the last word.
Mrs. Choi stared down at him, unflinching.
"You're a fool," she said coldly. "You're willing to throw away your future… for him?"
"I need him," Beomgyu whispered. "He's the only one who makes me happy."
She ripped her hands from his grip, seething. "You don't need him. You need a wake-up call. Give me your phone."
Beomgyu hesitated—then, reluctantly, handed it over.
"I won't report him," she said, lips curling in disdain, "but I will speak to him. Personally. And starting tomorrow, someone will keep an eye on you. If I catch even a hint of contact between you and that man again, I will go to the school board."
Beomgyu blinked through his tears, barely able to process the avalanche crashing down on him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he whispered. "Why can't I just be happy?"
Mrs. Choi scoffed. "Happiness? You think this—this scandal—is happiness? You're delusional, Beomgyu. You're supposed to be studying, preparing for your future, not throwing it away over a crush. This isn't love. It's foolishness."
And with that, she turned her back on him and walked away, her heels clicking on the floor like a gavel of judgment.
Beomgyu remained on his knees, trembling. The tears kept coming—hot, endless, and sharp like glass. His chest ached as though something vital had been ripped from it. He curled into himself on the floor, hands clutching at his shirt as sobs tore through him.
He had no power. No voice. No freedom.
And in that moment, he realized something cruel and irreversible:
To protect Yeonjun, he would have to let him go.
Even if it destroyed him.
+×+
The soft clinking of utensils and gentle rustle of fabric filled the cozy apartment, where the faint scent of simmering sauce lingered in the air. From across the room, Kai watched Soobin prepare dinner, his heart swelling with quiet disbelief. Their relationship was still so new, so fragile, like something out of a dream—too beautiful to be real. And yet, here they were. Together.
It was surreal. Falling in love with Soobin, his teacher, wasn't something Kai ever imagined would happen. But emotions, he had learned, rarely followed logic. They bloomed like wildflowers—unpredictable, messy, and stunning. And while the road ahead was uncertain, Kai knew one thing for sure: this—they—felt right.
Soobin, on the other hand, was experiencing the same wonder. He had never expected to fall for a student, let alone Kai. Yet the younger boy's tenderness, his resilience, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled—Soobin was already too far gone. Despite the boundaries they crossed, there was something deeply pure about the love forming between them. Both were confused, maybe even a little lost—but never alone. They had each other now.
"You really like staring at me, huh?" Soobin teased with a soft grin, glancing over his shoulder.
Kai blushed and smiled shyly, caught in the act. There was something soothing about watching Soobin move—graceful in the kitchen, hands steady, brows slightly furrowed in focus. He looked like he belonged in the frame of a favorite movie.
Soobin walked over and gently took Kai's hand, leading him to the table. The touch made Kai's heart skip. His hands were small and soft, but in Soobin's grasp, they felt protected, cherished. He adored how naturally they fit—like puzzle pieces shaped for each other.
"Soobin…" Kai's voice trembled slightly. "What do you think will happen to us? This—what we're doing—it's all so new to me. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel, but… I know I'm happy."
Soobin sat across from him, then reached to kiss the back of his hand, his eyes glowing with warmth. "I think it's going to be a crazy ride," he said softly, "but we'll figure it out together. If you're happy… that's all I need."
Dinner was quiet, intimate. They laughed between bites, stole glances, and gently touched each other's hands over the table like they were on a candlelit date. Soobin called Kai cute at least a dozen times, unable to contain his fondness. It was corny, it was romantic—and they loved every second of it.
Later, as Kai prepared to leave, Soobin caught his hand again.
"Do you want to stay the night? Sleep with me—just hold me," he asked with a soft plea, his eyes wide like a child seeking comfort.
Kai's resistance melted. He couldn't say no.
Soon, they were curled under Soobin's blanket, their bodies pressed together like they belonged. Soobin's arms wrapped around Kai, his thumb gently tracing circles on the younger's back as if committing his warmth to memory.
"Thank you for staying," Soobin whispered, eyes never leaving Kai's. "I don't think I could've slept without you tonight."
Then, in a voice more vulnerable than before, he added, "You make me feel things I've never felt. When I'm with you, the world feels… lighter. Brighter. I don't know how else to explain it, but... being with you feels like coming home."
Kai's breath hitched, and tears welled up before he could stop them. He tried to blink them away, but they spilled down his cheeks anyway. He wasn't sad—not at all. It was joy. Overwhelming, raw, real joy. A happiness he never thought he'd be allowed to feel.
Soobin's arms tightened, his lips brushing Kai's forehead. "Cry all you need," he murmured. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Kai sobbed softly into Soobin's chest, muffling the sounds as he allowed himself to unravel. Soobin held him through it all, never once letting go. Not when Kai trembled, not when he whispered broken words, and not when he finally looked up, eyes red but shimmering.
Soobin cupped his face, gently wiping the tears away. In his eyes, Kai was ethereal—his messy hair, flushed cheeks, and wet lashes made him look like something divine. It almost hurt to look at him.
"You're so beautiful," Soobin whispered. "You don't even know."
Their eyes locked again. And this time, when their lips met, the kiss was slow. Tender. A promise. It wasn't lust—it was love, honest and bare. Kai melted into it, letting the emotion consume him.
As their foreheads rested together, Kai whispered softly, "Do you think… I deserve this? To be this happy?"
Soobin smiled, his thumb grazing Kai's cheek again. "You do. More than anyone."
Kai nodded slightly, letting the words sink into the deepest parts of him. His heart was trembling from being full.
"I love you, Huening Kai."
"I love you more."
And there, wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted into the quiet comfort of the night—hearts full, souls intertwined.
+×+
Morning crept in with golden beams of sunlight pouring through the curtains of Beomgyu's room. The warmth touched his face, but he didn't feel it—not really. He lay motionless, eyes swollen from crying, limbs heavy with sorrow. The weight of last night sat thick in his chest like stone. His gaze was blank, unfocused, lost in the spinning silence that echoed louder than any voice.
There was no motivation to rise, no joy in beginning the day. Just the quiet ache of heartbreak and betrayal—the pain of being caged by his own mother.
He wanted to stay there forever, buried in the sheets, but he knew better. His mother wouldn't allow him the luxury of weakness, not even if he was sick or broken. She'd already made it clear: he had no say.
With a weary sigh, Beomgyu finally forced himself out of bed, dragging his limbs as he went through the motions of getting dressed. His body moved, but his spirit remained hollow.
When he descended the stairs, the tension hit him immediately.
His mother was waiting by the door, dressed impeccably as always—but beside her stood a man in black. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Stone-faced. Beomgyu paused mid-step. He recognized that face. It was the same man from yesterday—the one watching him from a distance. Now he was in their home.
"Beomgyu," his mother said firmly. "This is Mr. Park Chanyeol. He'll be accompanying you from now on—to school and back. He reports directly to me. I meant what I said last night. One wrong move, and he will let me know."
Chanyeol gave a curt nod. His expression was unreadable, but there was something cold in his eyes that made Beomgyu's skin crawl.
He couldn't hide the way his lips tightened or the unease curling in his gut. His instincts screamed not to trust this man. Every inch of him wanted to protest, but he knew it was useless.
"Let's go. I have meetings today," his mother said briskly, stepping toward the door.
"Mom," Beomgyu called out, voice strained. "If… if you're really going to see Yeonjun, please don't say anything cruel. Please, just—"
She turned to glare at him. "Don't test me, Beomgyu."
The chill in her voice was final.
As the door closed behind them, Beomgyu felt the walls tightening. Today, he knew, would be the beginning of the end. He would be forced to cut ties with Yeonjun—to bury the feelings he cherished so deeply. His heart ached at the thought. But more than anything, he feared what would happen to Yeonjun. He had to protect him. Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Somehow... he had to find a way out.
+×+
Across campus, in a shadowed hallway near the staircase, three figures lingered—watching, waiting, plotting.
Mingyu leaned against the railing with a twisted grin on his face, dark intent in his eyes. Junhui and Vernon flanked him, arms crossed, watching the crowd.
"He's ours today," Mingyu said coldly. "I've waited long enough. That little punk thought he could humiliate us and walk away? I'll make him beg. I'll make him cry. And when it's over, we'll show this school who really runs things."
The others nodded, silent but eager. Violence burned in their eyes.
Then, they spotted him—Beomgyu, exiting the car with his mother and an unfamiliar man.
Mingyu narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is that?"
"Looks like security or something," Vernon muttered.
"We'll wait," Mingyu decided. "Let the bastard play bodyguard. But the moment he slips—we move."
They retreated into the shadows, their vengeance simmering. It was only a matter of time.
+×+
Meanwhile, in the quiet sanctuary of the library, Huening Kai sat at a sunlit table, his mind far from the chaos unfolding elsewhere.
He hummed softly, a smile blooming on his face as he turned a page of the BL novel in his hands. The words on the page blurred, replaced with images of Soobin—his smile, his warmth, the way he said Kai's name. He was drunk on daydreams, floating in a bubble of innocent bliss.
Soobin was his everything now. His thoughts, his laughter, his heart.
But that sweet fantasy was interrupted when someone took the seat across from him.
Kai blinked, his smile fading slightly when he saw who it was.
"Taehyun…"
The boy fidgeted, visibly anxious. "K-Kai… can we talk?"
Kai didn't respond. He simply closed his book slowly, expression unreadable.
"I know you're still upset about what I did," Taehyun began. "I kissed you without thinking… I was selfish. I didn't stop to think how it might make you feel. I just— I like you, Kai. I really do. But I know that doesn't excuse anything. If you can't forgive me, that's okay. I just hope… maybe… we can still be friends."
For a long moment, Kai didn't speak. His gaze softened as he searched Taehyun's eyes. There was no bitterness in them—just sincerity. And regret.
He sighed, then finally said, "I'm not mad. I was just… surprised. Everything was messy. I was already dealing with so much, and when that happened, I shut down. But… I don't hate you. I never did."
Taehyun's shoulders relaxed a little.
"I'm sorry too," Kai continued. "I know you cared. And I didn't want to hurt you. I just… I never saw you that way. I hope that's okay."
A sad but genuine smile tugged at Taehyun's lips. "It is. Thank you for telling me."
The tension slowly melted away between them. The air became lighter.
"We're still friends, right?" Kai asked.
"Always," Taehyun replied.
They shared a quiet laugh, something gentle and real. Maybe love hadn't worked out between them—but friendship was still something worth holding onto.
And for Kai, as he sat back with his book once again, he realized… sometimes the heart has room for more than just one kind of love.
+×+
The school day was just about to begin.
Soobin was busy packing up his materials for first period, neatly slipping books into his bag with practiced ease. But his attention shifted when he noticed Yeonjun sitting nearby, lost in a daydream, his eyes shimmering like stars and a small, almost childish smile curling his lips.
A mischievous grin tugged at Soobin's mouth.
"You look suspiciously giddy today," Soobin teased, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Did you overdose on candy? Maybe spiked your morning coffee with whiskey? Or—wait—don't tell me you're high on something?"
Yeonjun chuckled quietly, not even sparing him a glance as he tidied his desk, still wrapped in his glowing trance.
Soobin squinted, tilted his head, and studied him with exaggerated curiosity. Then his eyes widened in mock revelation. "Oh my god. I knew it! That dreamy look, the glowing aura—you're in love!"
Yeonjun turned, caught off guard. "W-What? No, of course not," he stammered with a sheepish smile—too sheepish to be convincing.
"You liar," Soobin gasped, pointing dramatically. "You are in love! Who is it? Come on, spill! I told you about my secret crush, didn't I?"
Yeonjun simply shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "That's a secret. For now."
"That's so unfair!" Soobin pouted.
But before Yeonjun could reply, a knock came from the door. The atmosphere shifted immediately as Mrs. Choi stepped into the faculty room.
"Mrs. Choi," Yeonjun greeted politely, rising to his feet. "What brings you here? Is there something I can help you with?"
The woman's expression was cold—hard and unreadable.
"I'd like to speak to you. Alone," she said flatly.
Yeonjun subtly exchanged a glance with Soobin, signaling him with a quick flick of his eyes.
Soobin understood instantly and grabbed his bag. "Right, I should head to class. See you later, hyung."
Once the door shut behind him, silence filled the room. Mrs. Choi stepped closer and sat down, folding her hands neatly on the desk. But her stare was venomous—like she had fire smoldering beneath her skin.
"You're going to stay away from my son," she began in a low, sharp voice. "You disgusting excuse for a teacher."
Yeonjun's smile faltered. "Excuse me?"
"Don't act innocent. You seduced him, didn't you? Manipulated my son. And in public, no less? You call yourself an educator? You kissed him. In front of others."
Yeonjun flinched as she slammed a photo down on the desk. There, clear as day, was the image—him and Beomgyu, lips locked in a private moment that was never meant to be captured.
His heart dropped into his stomach.
"Mrs. Choi… I can explain."
"I don't care what your explanation is," she snapped. "You should know what happens when teachers cross the line. If this gets out—on social media, in the news—your career is over. And if I really wanted to, I could make sure you end up behind bars."
Yeonjun's throat tightened. His words trembled. "Please… don't. Please don't report this. Let's talk. W-What do you want from me?"
Mrs. Choi stood, towering over his desk.
"I want you to vanish from my son's life. No more texts. No more smiles. No more private talks. If you even look at him again, I swear—I will ruin you."
She didn't wait for a response. With a scoff, she turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Yeonjun sat frozen, his hands gripping his hair, shaking. Panic swelled in his chest as he stared blankly at the wall. Everything was crumbling—his job, his dignity, and the fragile connection he'd been building with Beomgyu. All gone with a few cruel words and a photo.
He bit back a sob, tapping his foot restlessly against the floor. He felt like he was suffocating.
"B-Beomgyu…" he whispered, the name like a prayer he could no longer answer.
+×+
Back at the main hall, Beomgyu paced back and forth anxiously, eyes darting toward the doors. His chest was tight with nerves, waiting for his mother's return, praying that somehow, miraculously, she hadn't ruined everything.
The moment she walked through the doors, he rushed up to her.
"Mom, what did you say to him? Please tell me—"
"I have a meeting to get to," she said flatly. "Mr. Park, keep an eye on him."
And just like that, she left.
Beomgyu turned to Chanyeol desperately. "Please, let me go see Yeonjun. Just for a minute—I need to explain everything—"
"No."
The answer was firm and emotionless.
Then, from the hallway, a voice rang out—sharp, mocking.
"Well, well. Looks like the golden boy has a personal bodyguard now."
Beomgyu turned and saw Mingyu, flanked by Junhui and Vernon, strolling toward them with that same predatory smirk.
"Come on," Mingyu sneered. "Hand him over. We've got plans."
He reached out to grab Beomgyu's wrist—but Chanyeol stepped between them like a wall, pushing Beomgyu gently back.
Mingyu scowled. "Step aside, pretty boy."
Chanyeol didn't budge.
Junhui and Vernon spread out, trying to surround him. But before the standoff could escalate, Mingyu launched the first punch—fast and furious. Chanyeol dodged it effortlessly and landed a solid hit to Mingyu's nose, making it burst with blood.
Chaos erupted.
The hallway became a battleground. Chanyeol moved with brutal efficiency, easily overpowering the jocks. Beomgyu stood frozen in a