Byeongho saw that it was still full, which meant the boy had not drunk any yet. He sighed in relief, feeling the tension in his chest ease slightly. The faint smell of the room, mixed with the antiseptic from the lube bottle, made him more aware of the surreal situation.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Do Yun was wondering if this could be one of the loan shark lackeys who has been sent to harass him at this late hour of the night. They are capable of anything. He gripped the blanket tighter, glancing nervously at the door and the faint shadows beyond it.
Byeong Ho turned to see that the boy had gotten off the bed and was standing at the tail end, which is closer to where the desk is. His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to gauge whether this was a threat or simply panic-driven behavior.
He is holding a wooden bat in one hand while the other is holding onto the blanket now covering him, impatiently waiting for his answer. The tension in the boy's posture made Byeong Ho's instincts sharpen.
"When did you wake up? Or were you even asleep? How come I didn't hear you get off the bed when I'm standing just by your nightstand? Hm? Were you pretending, then? Just like in your photo?" He leaned slightly forward, curiosity and caution battling in his chest.
"What photo? Don't come near me. Otherwise, I'll hit you with this." Doyun held the blanket in between his armpits and held the bat firmly in both hands. Swinging it at Byeong Ho, who is leaving the nightstand side, and walking towards him. His breathing was fast, eyes wide, and small beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
P.O.V.
Kim Byeong-Ho
"What photo? Don't come near me. Otherwise, I'll hit you with this." The pretty boy now has the blanket in between his armpits and holds the bat firmly in both hands. His stance is tense, legs slightly bent, ready to swing again.
I left the nightstand and walked towards him, though he kept swinging it at me. Each movement was careful, measured, trying to avoid his strikes while closing the distance.
"I said don't come any closer. Just answer my question..." In a swift propulsive movement, I snatched the wooden bat from the boy and threw it to the door before holding him in a chokehold. The sudden action made him gasp, eyes widening in shock.
"Let go of me. Let go of me!" The blanket fell off as he tried to free himself, kicking at my sides and wriggling. His small frame was deceptively strong, muscles tense with resistance.
I ignored him and lowered my arm from around his neck but held his hands behind his back to prevent him from fighting back, but the stubborn guy kept trying to kick my legs with his. Each kick was weak but persistent, a display of his fierce spirit.
The bed is by the side of the wall, so I sat at the end and leaned against the wall, pinning the boy to my chest after releasing his hands. The room was silent except for our uneven breathing.
I had his arms locked as I hugged him tightly across his stomach from the back. We were both sitting on the bed now, with the boy's head securely attached to my chest and his legs also in between mine. The warmth of his body contrasted with the cool night air seeping through the window.
"Stop fighting and let's talk." I said it in a serious tone, making the young boy stop his rebellion abruptly. His small body trembled slightly, but the tension began to ease.
"You called me here." I said from his back, still holding him in place.
"What are you talking about? I haven't done such a thing. I don't even know you!" He squirmed, trying to wiggle out of my hold but failed. His tone was frantic, eyes darting as if searching for an escape route.
I knew he would doubt me, so I brought out my phone and showed him the picture of him saying he was going to take the drug. His pupils dilated slightly, a flicker of guilt or fear crossing his features.
"Were you pretending then? Just like in your photo?" I asked and watched him closely. His chest rose and fell quickly as he processed the information.
"What do you mean? And how come you have my photo...?" He stopped mid-sentence, and I could sense him trying to come up with a theory, brows furrowed in thought.
"Wait, don't tell me that that guy sent my pictures to you. Why? Why will he do that? And why are you here instead of him?" He was becoming quite frantic as he continued with more theories. His hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white.
"Are you here because he's no longer interested and you asked him to pass me off to you? Is this what you guys do? Let go of me and delete my picture from your phone.
I am no longer interested. I'll go and get women instead. You gay men are too much trouble." His voice cracked slightly, frustration and panic evident.
I guess he thinks I'm gay. I tightened my hug as he tried to break free from me. The pressure was firm but careful, keeping him secure without hurting him.
"But you're the one who made the offer first. You cannot take it back now." I wanted to tease him a bit, noting the flush creeping up his neck.
"I said I never called you here. How will I do that when I don't even have your contact information?" His small hands tried to push against me, futilely, eyes narrowing in both fear and stubbornness.
"Really? You never called?"
The pretty guy shook his head in annoyance. "Yes. I never did. How many times do I have to repeat that?!" His frustration was palpable, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger.
I took out my phone again and opened our one-sided chat on the Messenger app before giving the phone to him to read. "Then what is this?" I asked, voice calm but firm, maintaining control of the situation.
I released my hold and stretched for the blanket to cover his lower part as he read the messages. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, highlighting the slight worry in his eyes.
"How... how come? Are you sure this is your phone? I mean, I really did send these messages, but they were sent to my senior's number.
I don't know how you have them instead." He seemed speechless as he realised he could've sent the messages to the wrong person. His small body slumped slightly, the weight of embarrassment pressing down.
I watched him as he absentmindedly got off the bed and went to the nightstand for his phone and the calling card that the said senior had given him. He returned to sit back on the bed as before, still slightly flustered.
I shook my head. The boy seems so shocked that he has forgotten that he is sitting in between my legs, for I had expected him to act stubborn after letting go of him. His eyes were wide, still tracing over the numbers on the card.
I watched him as he compared the digits on his phone to the ones on the card. Small beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he muttered to himself under his breath.
"Oh fuck!" I heard him curse as he realised that he had made a mistake, which I'm sure will be just a change in one or two digits. His voice carried both relief and lingering frustration.
"You've seen your mistake now?" I asked from behind him on the bed after he was done checking. My tone was soft, teasing just enough to lighten the tension.
He nodded and shifted his position to face me, so he moved from between my legs to the middle of the small bed. A subtle sigh of relief escaped him, shoulders relaxing slightly.
"I'm really, really sorry. This is a genuine mistake. I didn't mean to trick you here. I thought I was sending them to my senior on this number. See?" His hands trembled slightly as he showed the card to me, the digits perfectly matching the one he intended to call.
The boy showed the card to me, and indeed, he was telling the truth. The number on the card and mine have the same digits. It seems he interchanged the last three digits. Mine is 609, while the one on the card is 906. A faint smile appeared on his lips, mingled with embarrassment and relief.