MCL Ch 2
by mimiKi Yeonghan often recalled the professor who had recommended liberal arts courses, citing his lack of communication skills.
Especially after arranging his course schedule, he thought of the professor more frequently, as if the professor’s words had been a prophecy, leading him to enroll in “Sex and Communication.”
There wasn’t any particular reason for it. While propping his chin and browsing the course registration site to plan his schedule, the “Sex and Communication” course that the professor had mentioned caught his eye. It had lingered in his subconscious, and the title was long. With an expression of indifference, he clicked on it. He only intended to check the class times.
The class was on Thursdays, once a week, a three-hour session, and luckily, from 12 to 3 p.m. It fit perfectly between his major courses. It felt like the heavens were aligning the pieces of a Tetris game, so there was no reason not to take it.
He successfully registered for “Sex and Communication,” the most popular liberal arts course at Korea University, without much effort. They say coincidence becomes fate if it persists. That’s exactly how it felt.
The lecture hall was Mugunghwa Hall on the first floor of the Liberal Arts Building. The sloped structure brought students closer to the professor with each step down the stairs. There were just over 100 students enrolled.
Ki Yeonghan scanned his surroundings and settled into a seat in the middle of the lecture hall. He wasn’t the type to curry favor with professors by sitting up front, and he found the students who slouched in the back, dozing or fiddling with their phones, repulsive.
Ki Yeonghan placed his bag on the seat next to him and quietly passed the time. It was unfortunate that the syllabus wasn’t filled out yet. The usual Ki Yeonghan would have cursed out an irresponsible professor and chosen a different class, butAuthentication failed. Please try again. course, believing there must be a reason for its popularity and deciding to let it slide for now.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. There were a ton of messages. His peers from the Political Science and Diplomacy Department’s student council were pestering him to join the opening party and freshman welcome event.
They were desperate to flirt with girls. Ki Yeonghan read through the messages starting with “Yeonghan-ah” and ignored them. Then a familiar name caught his eye in the message window.
Ki Younghyeon
Hyung, you coming home this week?
11:57 AM
Ki Younghyeon, Ki Yeonghan’s one and only younger brother. A high school senior this year, he was unreasonably burly for his age and had a rugged, masculine boyfriend. The unfortunate part was that Ki Younghyeon was also a guy.
Ki Yeonghan lived by the motto of not meddling in others’ lives, but for some reason, he couldn’t apply that to his brother. Frowning unconsciously, he tapped on the keypad.
Me
Why.
12:01 PM
Ki Younghyeon
Well… Mom and Dad are going on a trip this time…
12:01 PM
There was no subject, but he got the gist. Ki Yeonghan bit back a curse.
“This guy’s lost it.”
Me
I’ll come home.
12:02 PM
Study.
12:02 PM
Ki Younghyeon
It’s lunchtime…
12:02 PM
A crying emoji came back instantly. A grown guy acting cute.
Ki Yeonghan flipped his phone over with a blank expression. Just then, the professor walked into the lecture hall. For an old professor’s student, he was on the younger side. Still, probably in his late thirties. Compared to professors who seemed on their last legs, he was practically youthful.
“There are a lot of students here.”
The professor stood at the podium, surveying the lecture hall. Ki Yeonghan followed his gaze briefly but soon looked down with a disinterested expression.
“Since this is a communication class, I’ll call names for attendance instead of using electronic check-ins. There are a lot of students, but that should be fine, right?”
“Yeees…” came the half-hearted response. The professor held out a stack of papers. “Pass these back.” The students exchanged glances and passed the papers along. Ki Yeonghan received one. It was the syllabus.
Course Objectives
- Understanding sex and communication
- Understanding ideal love and gender roles in modern society and learning desirable perspectives on relationships.
Week 1 Orientation
Week 2 Understanding Sex and Communication
Week 3 Gender Roles in Modern Society (Date Plan)
Week 4 Human Relationships and Communication (First Meeting)
It was a typical syllabus for a liberal arts course. But Ki Yeonghan frowned. The topics were one thing, but the words in parentheses—date plan, first meeting, getting to know each other, first date—made him uneasy.
The thing Ki Yeonghan hated most in college was group projects. And this was obviously going to involve group work. His irritation turned toward the professor who had recommended this course. Recommending this kind of class? Whispers came from behind.
“They say you actually date if you take this class.”
“Is the group project really about dating?”
Murmur, murmur. Ki Yeonghan squeezed his eyes shut. He loosened his grip on the syllabus. Screw it. This is a popular course? The world must be going crazy.
I’m dropping this class. Ki Yeonghan made up his mind without hesitation.
“I’ll take attendance.”
The professor called out names one by one. When he heard “Ki Yeonghan,” he mumbled, “Yes.” Group projects were bad enough, but face-to-face assignments? Even worse. Dating? The absolute worst. His luck was rotten from the first day of the semester. They say the beginning is half the battle, and this semester was probably going to be a disaster, he concluded grimly.
That’s when it happened.
Creak… With an unpleasant sound, the back door of the lecture hall opened. The professor continued calling attendance. Ki Yeonghan, irritated, turned to see who had come in. The moment he saw the face, a voice from a few months ago echoed in his ears.
“Why does the professor only dote on me? We’re all his students.”
It was the guy who had said that, feigning humility. Ki Yeonghan remembered him because his face stood out compared to other students. It was pretty decent. The kind of face you don’t easily forget.
Light cocoa.
That’s how Ki Yeonghan rated the guy before turning back to face forward. He stared at the professor, still calling names.
Thud, thud… Footsteps approached. Even though he sensed someone nearby, Ki Yeonghan didn’t look back. He felt someone standing still near him, but he kept his eyes on the professor. With so many students, there were plenty of empty seats. He didn’t want anyone sitting next to him.
“Um, your bag…”
But at the worst possible moment, the guy muttered. Sitting right in the middle, what a hassle. It’s a class I’m dropping anyway; I should’ve just sat in the back. Ki Yeonghan glanced at the guy and moved his bag.
“Thanks.”
The guy’s voice carried a rough breath. He must’ve been running. Expecting a sweaty smell, Ki Yeonghan turned his head the other way. The guy sat down, rustling his clothes. A sweet scent wafted over. Must use a lot of fabric softener.
“Yoon Yejun.”
“Yes.”
The guy raised his hand in response.
His name was Yoon Yejun. Despite his sharp features, his name was soft and round. Whatever, not someone I’ll see again. Ki Yeonghan shrugged it off.
Soon, the attendance check wrapped up. The professor flashed a friendly smile and joked.
“With so many people, calling attendance is tough. Starting next time, I’ll call from the front once, then the back. The Kang folks were complaining.”
After a brief laugh, he began explaining the syllabus. As expected, the first class was an orientation. The students giggled at every word the professor said, as if it was hilarious. Just typical professor humor. Ki Yeonghan, unimpressed, set the syllabus on the desk and zoned out.
“As you can see, by the end of today’s class, you need to form pairs for the next session. You all know what kind of pairs, right? This is a pretty famous class at our school.”
Murmurs filled the room. Ki Yeonghan stayed still. It’s a class I’m dropping. Who cares.
“The pairs formed in this class will be ‘couples’ until the semester ends. Just to be clear, if you’re in a relationship but taking this class alone, drop it. If I catch you, you won’t get a good grade.”
“…”
“Also, in case the gender ratio doesn’t match, male-male or female-female pairs are fine. It’s the 21st century, you know?”
The students laughed at the professor’s lighthearted comment. Ki Yeonghan, unable to see what was so funny, muttered to himself.
“Damn, seriously…”
He didn’t care if his brother Ki Younghyeon dated a guy. Still, Ki Yeonghan was a pretty normal guy. When his brother said he was dating a guy, Ki Yeonghan was shocked but pretended it was fine. He’s still a high schooler, so it’s just a phase, he thought. If he opposed it, it might push him further off track, so for now… yeah, for now. That’s how it was.
“…”
Ki Yeonghan leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to stare at the ceiling. He just wanted the class to end. Soon enough, the professor, having explained the syllabus, called out, “Alright!” to grab everyone’s attention.
“I’ll let you out early today, but don’t leave right away. Form your pairs before you go. You won’t have time to meet up outside class. That’s it for today. See you next week.”
“Thank you.”
The professor scanned the room with an intrigued expression before leaving without hesitation. Ki Yeonghan picked up the syllabus with one hand. Yoon Yejun, who had been sitting next to him, was already heading out the back door. Quick guy. As Ki Yeonghan started to get up, a girl sitting in front of him turned around.
“Have you picked a partner?”
“No. I’m dropping the class.”
“Oh…”
Ki Yeonghan answered without hesitation. He grabbed his bag and headed for the door when another voice called out, “Excuse me.”
“Picked a partner?”
“No. I’m dropping the class.”
He finally escaped the lecture hall. He tossed the syllabus into the trash can by the room. No need for it since he was dropping the course. Maybe he’d smoke a cigarette before heading out.
He left the building and headed to the smoking area. Lighting a cigarette, he chewed on it. What class should I take? Will there be any decent liberal arts courses left on the registration site? Hope the times work out. I don’t want to come to school on Fridays. Lost in thought, he bowed his head.
He exhaled a puff of smoke. At the same time, a voice called out.
“Excuse me.”
It wasn’t the high-pitched voice from earlier.
“…”
Ki Yeonghan, with a furrowed brow, lifted his head. Tilting it slightly, he met the gaze of a guy a head shorter than him. Yoon Yejun. His round name stuck out compared to his sharp looks. With a “what do you want” expression, he stared at the guy. The guy asked in a calm tone.
“Have you picked a partner?”
What’s this nonsense?
Ki Yeonghan straightened his tilted head. He took a drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke. Then he flicked it into the ashtray planter. The cigarette died out in the sandy mound. Blinking, Ki Yeonghan faced the guy.
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re asking if I picked a partner?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m a guy.”
His mouth went dry. Ki Yeonghan’s furrowed brow wouldn’t relax. The guy in front of him obviously knew he was a guy, just as Ki Yeonghan knew the guy standing there was male.
“Yeah, I know. The professor said it’s fine, male-male or female-female.”
What the…
Ki Yeonghan was too stunned to respond. The guy asked again.
“If you haven’t picked a partner, let’s be in the same group.”
“No. I’m dropping the class.”
“Oh, got it…”
The guy nodded, looking disappointed, then gave a slight bow and walked away.
“Ha…”
Flustered, Ki Yeonghan stared at the guy’s retreating figure. What’s with that guy? A curse slipped out. Is he gay? Why are there so many gay people around me? I’m still struggling to accept my brother. The world suddenly crashed over Ki Yeonghan like a wave.
But he quickly composed himself. Gotta head to my major classes. Just my luck, damn it. What a weird day.
🍬
A week passed.
Thursday noon. Ki Yeonghan was sitting in the middle of Mugunghwa Hall. Pretty unexpected for someone who boldly declared he’d drop the class. He had a notebook open and was staring straight ahead.
Damn…
He tried to swallow the curse, but it slipped out.
The professor walked into the lecture hall. A few students in the front greeted him. Raising a hand to acknowledge them, the professor opened the attendance sheet and started calling names. As he’d said last time, he started from the back.
“Yoon Yejun.”
A familiar name rang out.
“Yes.”
The voice was familiar too. Seems he didn’t show up late today. Yoon Yejun wasn’t someone Ki Yeonghan could see in a positive light. Pretending to be nice was one thing, but being late was another thing Ki Yeonghan hated.
The professor continued the attendance check, calling dozens of students.
“Ki Yeonghan.”
Hearing his name, Ki Yeonghan raised his hand lightly and answered. He expected the professor to move on, but suddenly the professor spoke up.
“I noticed last time, Yeonghan.”
“…”
“You’re quite handsome.”
At that, a few students in the front turned to check out Ki Yeonghan’s face. Cursing inwardly, Ki Yeonghan slightly bowed his head. Is he nuts? Crazy professor. If that’s communication, give it to the dogs. I’ll just stay single forever. Chewing gum aggressively.
After finishing attendance, the professor called out, “Alright.”
“Let’s talk about the groups before we start.”
Murmurs filled the room.
“Have you all formed your groups?”
“Yep.” A loud, eager voice answered, clearly from a guy who loved attention. Ki Yeonghan, of course, hadn’t formed a group. But it was fine.
Having lived a mostly smooth life, Ki Yeonghan believed this would work out too. Sure, he ended up in this lousy “Sex and Communication” class and tried to find another, but the alternatives were Friday classes or liberal arts courses with huge gaps from his major schedule. If he didn’t want those, he’d have to take something like badminton. If he’d stuck to the computer, he might’ve found something, but he wasn’t that desperate. He chose the lesser evil.
“Raise your hand if you haven’t formed a group.”
With nearly 100 students, there had to be others without a group. If not for the voice from behind, he’d have been more confident.
“Didn’t you get a ton of emails?”
The people behind him were obviously thrown together for this group project.
“So many. Since you can’t do the assignments without a group, everyone must’ve been desperate.”
Emails? Ki Yeonghan never checked his inbox unless it was for a group project.
Guess people without groups sent emails. Relieved, Ki Yeonghan raised his hand.
“Yeonghan and… what’s the other student’s name?”
Unfortunately, the professor had just memorized Ki Yeonghan’s face and name. For Ki Yeonghan, who hated standing out, this was the worst.
“Yoon Yejun.”
Oh, damn…
Swinging a badminton racket would’ve been better.
“Two guys, what do you want to do? It’s too late to drop…”
The professor was teasing, hoping both would say, “We’ll be in the same group.” Ki Yeonghan couldn’t hide his icy expression, squeezing his eyes shut and bowing his head. If it wasn’t for the word “date,” he could’ve handled it. Even a group project where he did all the work would’ve been better.
A voice came from behind.
“I’m fine with it.”
Of course you are. Ki Yeonghan felt a surge of frustration at the calm response. If he hadn’t rejected the guy’s offer to team up last time, this would’ve been less humiliating. His dry mouth tightened. This is punishment. Punishment for living so recklessly. That’s why he’s stuck in this mess, forced to “date” a guy. He let out a heavy sigh.
When he looked up, the professor was watching them with an amused expression. Ki Yeonghan’s forced smile trembled. His forced grin didn’t look like a smile. No choice. He was a guy who rarely smiled.
“I’m…”
“…”
“Fine with it too.”
He swallowed a bitter smile.
🍬
Mugunghwa Hall. A large lecture hall that could hold 100 students, but all eyes were on Ki Yeonghan and Yoon Yejun. After two hours of class, the remaining hour was for writing a date plan, as the professor instructed. The two sat in silence.
Ki Yeonghan spun the pen in his hand. Despite the pen’s casual twirl between his fingers, he was anxious. Finally, he gripped the pen tightly.
“Let’s do this.”
He spoke first.
“Student ID and department, please.”
Yoon Yejun finally opened his mouth, which had been sealed shut until now. He was two years ahead of Ki Yeonghan in student ID number, but they were both in their third year. His major was Media and Communication. Since they were both in the College of Social Sciences, it seemed likely they would have crossed paths before, but it was surprising that they had only met last winter. After all, Yoon Yejun had a face that stood out, didn’t he?
Yoon Yejun was quietly looking down. Ki Yeonghan, jotting down the information Yoon provided, stole a glance at him. He hated to admit it about another guy, but Yoon’s side profile was rather pretty. His long eyelashes curled slightly upward at the ends. His lips were full, his nose bridge moderately high, and the tip of his nose was round. Yoon Yejun, who had been staring at the desk, lifted his eyes. Their gazes met, and Ki Yeonghan instinctively looked away.
Back in school, when scolded by parents or teachers, Ki Yeonghan would argue that if they didn’t like how he looked at them, what could he do about the face he was born with? So, averting his eyes now bruised his pride.
“I have a question.”
Yoon Yejun’s voice was neither too low nor too high. It was a calm tone. Ki Yeonghan, who had been propping his chin and fidgeting with a pen, looked up with just his eyes.
“Didn’t you say you were dropping this class?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here?”
“It’s my choice.”
His pride was hurt. Yoon Yejun raised the corner of his mouth silently and said, “Ah…” Ki Yeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. Yoon’s tone seemed calm, his response devoid of emotion, but the way one corner of his mouth tilted upward felt like a smirk. Though Yoon quickly covered his lips with his fist as if hiding his expression, Ki Yeonghan had seen it clearly.
Yoon Yejun took the date plan sheet, one per group, that the professor had distributed and asked, “Since we only need to meet once a week, how about after this class?”
“I have a major class.”
“I’m only free on Fridays otherwise.”
“I have a free period.”
Of course, the apartment he currently lived in was a 10-minute walk from campus. But since he took this class to keep his free period, he didn’t want to sacrifice his Friday for a group project.
Yoon Yejun, with a friendly expression, said, “But since it’s a group project, we need to coordinate our schedules.”
“Why does the professor only dote on me? We’re all his students.”
The face from last winter flashed in Ki Yeonghan’s mind. It was a piercing, taunting expression. Ki Yeonghan frowned and waved his hand dismissively as he asked, “What about after Thursday’s class?”
“I have a part-time job, but… if you give me your phone number, I’ll contact you.”
Yoon Yejun handed over his phone. Ki Yeonghan typed in his number and returned it. Yoon pressed the call button. Ki Yeonghan’s phone, set to silent, lit up briefly before registering a missed call and going dark. Ki Yeonghan saved the number. Yoon Yejun. It was just a temporary connection for the semester, but they’d have to meet often, so he saved it.
Ugh, just thinking about it is annoying.
“Well, there’s nothing to discuss now. We just need to write what’s in the syllabus, right? What’s this? ?”
“Isn’t this our right now?”
Yoon Yejun said leisurely. Ki Yeonghan replied, “Yeah, yeah,” halfheartedly. Most people would have frowned or clicked their tongues at Ki Yeonghan’s attitude and tone by now, but Yoon Yejun showed no reaction. He simply pulled the date plan sheet closer to himself. That irritated Ki Yeonghan even more.
“Since we’re writing the reports separately, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of fleshing out the plan and submitting it.”
“…”
“You seem like you’d find it bothersome.”
Ki Yeonghan slowly raised his head, looking at the plan sheet in Yoon Yejun’s possession. Every word Yoon said grated on his nerves. Though Yoon spoke with a gentle expression, his words lingered in a way that provoked thought. If he had just said, “I’ll do it,” it would have been fine. But adding, “You seem like you’d find it bothersome,” felt like a jab. Who does he think I am? Ki Yeonghan reached out without hesitation.
“Give it to me. I’ll do it.”
“…”
Yoon Yejun looked at Ki Yeonghan’s hand, then scanned him up and down before asking, “Why?”
Ki Yeonghan gestured impatiently. “Just give it to me. I said I’ll do it. Do you even know how to write it? I’ll write it by the weekend, so just review it.”
“Ha…”
Yoon Yejun laughed again. It was a laugh of disbelief, but Ki Yeonghan ignored it. Was that everything? Looking around, the room was buzzing. Was this what college was like? Even a group blind date had its limits. It was too early to call it spring, yet people were covering their mouths, giggling, blushing, and scratching the backs of their heads in a frenzy. The only ones untouched by spring were Ki Yeonghan and Yoon Yejun.
Ki Yeonghan crossed his arms and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. The stuffy smell of an unventilated room hung in the air. I’m thirsty. I should bring coffee next time.
“Yejun, Yeonghan.”
At that moment, the professor approached and spoke to them. Ki Yeonghan lowered his gaze from the ceiling and met the professor’s eyes.
“Don’t feel too pressured. It’s not every semester, but it happens sometimes. We can’t perfectly balance the gender ratio. Still, they usually get along fine.”
“It feels like a unique experience, so I think it’ll be good.”
Yoon Yejun replied to the professor with a rounded, gentle expression. Ki Yeonghan was dumbfounded. Doesn’t he know that acting so nice makes it obvious to everyone? But the professor was already charmed, engaging Yoon Yejun in conversation. Ki Yeonghan watched them chat amicably, sighed with an “Ugh,” and turned his head away. This semester was going to be a long one.
🍬
Yoon Yejun. 26 years old, graduated from ◇◇ High School, completed full military service in the army, third-year Media and Communication major at Korea University. Average GPA of 3.89 out of 4.5, good interpersonal relationships, four past relationships. Notable trait: likes men. Ideal type: a bold, masculine-looking man.
Disliked type: that guy.
The man who ended up in the same group for the liberal arts course “Sex and Communication” left without so much as a polite goodbye after class, disappearing abruptly.
Watching him, Yoon Yejun let out a wry chuckle. But as if nothing had happened, he reverted to his usual calm expression and packed his things. He gathered the materials printed from the course portal and his pen, then left the lecture hall. As soon as he stepped outside, he ran into Kim Donghoon, a close friend from his cohort.
“Hey, Yejun.”
Donghoon raised a hand in greeting. Yoon Yejun also spoke to his approaching friend.
“You had a class here?”
“Yeah, ugh, it sucks. Understanding Digital and Information Literacy. My course registration was a total mess.”
“Why’d that happen?”
Yoon Yejun, with a playful expression, tilted the corner of his mouth and looked at Donghoon.
“You jerk. Bragging about your perfect schedule?”
Yoon Yejun hadn’t even said much, but Donghoon raised his voice out of nowhere. Yoon Yejun couldn’t understand failing course registration. Just click the button on time, and it’s done. Why fail? Still, he didn’t say it out loud. What could he do?
Yoon Yejun just laughed and said, “What bragging?” brushing it off casually. He didn’t seem to realize that his demeanor carried the air of a victor.
“Let’s go smoke.”
“Sure.”
The two headed to the smoking area in front of the Liberal Arts Building. Yoon Yejun, who alternated between regular and e-cigarettes, took out his e-cigarette. As he pressed the device’s button and waited, his gaze landed on a man smoking while talking on the phone.
“Are you crazy? …Hey, don’t yap at me. Seriously… Did I say I’d come home every weekend or not? Can’t you talk straight? …Are you nuts? Why do you keep pushing me? Hey, enough. Just try locking the door. Hey, hey!”
Wow…
Yoon Yejun inwardly marveled.
It was the guy from his group. His expression was prickly, and his words were always curt. Yoon Yejun had thought the guy was just annoyed about being paired with another man, but apparently, he talked to everyone like that. It couldn’t be easy to have such a bad personality. While filling out the date plan, Yoon Yejun summarized the man’s words briefly.
Not interested.
Don’t like it.
Why should I?
With such a pretty face, Yoon Yejun had thought he might be on the same side, but the guy was closer to homophobic. He recalled the man muttering “disgusting” when the professor said it was fine to pair with the same gender. Suggesting they team up had been a spur-of-the-moment jab. Take that. The same gender you cursed out is offering to pair with you.
But they actually ended up in the same group. Even Yoon Yejun hadn’t expected that. Who would’ve thought everyone else had already formed groups?
If you could score someone based on first impressions, that guy would barely deserve 2 out of 10. His looks could maybe get him to 7, but his personality dragged it down to 2, even with his face.
From 8 points, someone could enter Yoon Yejun’s dating radar, but no matter how that guy reached 8, Yoon would pass.
Even if someone was homophobic, they’d usually hide it in college out of shame, but not Ki Yeonghan. Yoon Yejun gave a faint smile. Who was he to judge people like that?
“Ugh, seriously… This guy never listens lately.”
The man, done with his call, turned around with an irritated expression. Watching his back, Yoon Yejun naturally shifted his gaze. The man walked to the ashtray, tossed his cigarette in with a hiss, and strode away as if nothing had happened.
Yoon Yejun let out a scoff, dripping with mockery. Donghoon, smoking a couple of steps away, glanced over and spoke.
“What’s with the goofy grin?”
“You sound like an old man.”
“Then why’re you smirking?”
“That guy’s hilarious.”
He pointed his chin at the man’s retreating figure. Donghoon started, “Oh, that guy.”
“What’s his name?”
“Don’t know.”
Unfortunately, Yoon Yejun didn’t know the man’s name. He just remembered him as a pretty-faced, rude lunatic. Not everyone was a potential romantic interest, but this guy was the opposite of his type. Yoon disliked flashy people. Plain and simple was best.
“He’s in Political Science. Pretty famous.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t know since you were on leave. Our semesters overlapped, though.”
Donghoon scratched his nose with his index finger and said casually, “That guy’s got a trash personality.”
Looks like everyone saw it clearly. Yoon Yejun nodded in agreement.
🍬
“In acquiring gender roles, through observation and imitation… social learning theory… children…”
“Sex and Communication” didn’t have a specific textbook. It involved printing materials from the course portal in advance and taking notes on the professor’s lectures.
The content was decent enough. Unlike the tedious group projects, it was mostly memorization-based. Ki Yeonghan, fidgeting with his pen and tilting his head, focused on the presentation screen before glancing at the front seats. You’d expect people to doze off in a sociology class, but in this lecture hall, few were sleeping or on their phones.
Ki Yeonghan concluded it was because students had to sit next to their group partner during class. In a course where you had to act like a couple with a stranger for a semester, no one would dare sleep or mess around.
Except one person.
Ki Yeonghan shot a sharp glare at the guy next to him, who was nodding off like a chicken pecking at grain. The way his head bobbed forward and back couldn’t possibly look good.
If he just slept face-down, it wouldn’t be as annoying, but the way he jerked his head like a sick chicken was distracting and broke Ki Yeonghan’s focus.
“…”
Yoon Yejun dipped his head again, then jolted upright with a tremble. Their eyes met. Ki Yeonghan raised one eyebrow, staring at the sleepy-eyed Yoon Yejun before scanning him up and down.
Yoon Yejun felt the gaze but ignored it. Instead, he rubbed his eyes and flipped his notes in sync with the professor’s words.
“Hey.”
Ki Yeonghan called out to him. Yoon Yejun just stared back without answering.
“Just sleep face-down.”
“…What?”
“I’m saying, stop bobbing your head—it’s distracting. If you’re not going to study, fine, but why bother everyone else?”
“…”
Yoon Yejun looked at Ki Yeonghan with an expression of disbelief.
“Ha…”
A short, incredulous laugh followed, his voice lowered.
“Just ignore it. Is your focus that weak? Someone dozing off bothers you that much?”
“…”
“How do you even study?”
He’s the one disturbing people, and now he’s making a fuss? Ki Yeonghan gritted his teeth.
“You’re the one being annoying. Why are you even in college? Here to play?”
“Why are you talking so casually? Like someone uneducated.”
“Oh, so the school you went to taught you it’s fine to nod off in class and disturb others? Don’t you know what a learning environment is? Did Mencius’s mother move houses for nothing?”
The guy didn’t back down an inch. Let’s not argue. There’s no point getting tangled with a lunatic like him. Having built patience through various jobs—service, tutoring, factory work—Yoon Yejun slowly curved his eyes into a smile.
“Sorry. I was taught poorly. I’m really sorry for disturbing your studies. I won’t doze off anymore, so go study.”
He held out his palms as if showing great respect, pointing at Ki Yeonghan’s notes. Of course, it was all sarcastic.
Ki Yeonghan’s face boiled with anger. Even when he played along, the guy made a scene. Yoon Yejun turned his gaze to the professor, inwardly clicking his tongue. He knew this type well. The kind who never let anyone get the last word. They’d find any excuse to pick a fight. Better to avoid him. Why fear crap? It’s just dirty.
Ten minutes before class ended, the professor, finishing earlier than planned, spoke up.
“As per the syllabus, the assignment is a report, and this week’s theme is . If you already know each other, you can do a role-play. Since most of you are strangers, just sit across from each other at a café and talk. The report length doesn’t matter, but as I said during orientation, focus on emotions. And… since it’s a Thursday class, submit by 10 a.m. that day. I won’t accept it even a minute late. That’s it for today.”
The professor packed up his laptop. A few late students approached him. Ki Yeonghan sat there, drained from constantly minding the guy next to him during class.
But Yoon Yejun, as if forgetting their earlier clash, spoke up casually. He was quick about it.
“What time tomorrow?”
Ki Yeonghan replied gruffly, “Let’s get it over with. 9 a.m.”
“Sorry, I work late at my job. Could we make it a bit later?”
“I’m giving up my free period to come to school because of you, and I can’t even pick the time? So selfish.”
“Phew.”
Yoon Yejun let out an audible sigh. Ki Yeonghan felt a brief pang of guilt, but only for a moment. He’d compromised enough. Who’d come out on a Friday, when they don’t have school, for a quick assignment?
After hesitating, Yoon Yejun nodded in defeat. “Fine. 9 a.m. In front of the school?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Ki Yeonghan packed his bag. Whether the guy worked late didn’t concern him. He grabbed his stuff and left the lecture hall without a goodbye, needing to head to his major class.
🍬
8:57 a.m. Ki Yeonghan looked at his phone.
“…”
No word from Yoon Yejun. He was dumbfounded. They’d exchanged brief texts the day before. “Let’s meet at the café in front of school.” “Okay.” “By 9 a.m.” “Okay.” The guy just said “Okay” and kept his replies short. It was ridiculous, but Ki Yeonghan let it slide.
While waiting, Ki Yeonghan thought about his past relationships. They were short, time-wise. He’d accept a confession if it seemed fine, date sequentially, and while he couldn’t say he gave his all, he did the basics. Then he got dumped.
He never understood why, so he’d ask his exes for reasons. At first, they’d cry, but then they’d curse and spit venom, saying he’d never be able to love, not even when he’s old and dead. Ki Yeonghan wasn’t the type to just say, “Fine, you’re done? Go.” He fought back. That was his past.
Why think of past relationships now? But given the course, it was inevitable.
“Tch…”
Clicking his tongue, Ki Yeonghan checked his phone again. It was exactly 9 a.m. But Yoon Yejun, his group partner, was nowhere to be seen. He called without hesitation.
“…”
Yoon Yejun didn’t pick up. What the hell? Ki Yeonghan stared at his phone, hearing only the steady ringtone. He tried a couple more times. Same result. Just as 9:02 a.m. passed—
“Huff, ah, ha… S-sorry…”
The guy appeared, climbing the café stairs. His breathing was ragged. Something about his rough gasps felt off. His hair was wet at the ends, not properly dried. It was a miracle he’d managed to dress properly. He was holding a vibrating buzzer, as if he’d ordered coffee.
Bzzz— The buzzer went off.
“I’ll grab my coffee.”
He went down to the first floor and returned with an iced Americano, ice cubes floating in it. Ki Yeonghan didn’t hide his sour expression. His eyebrows shot up.
“Two minutes late? Three, counting the coffee run.”
“Ah…”
“You must be bad at keeping time. I was here ten minutes early. Isn’t that the norm?”
Few people were punctual, but Ki Yeonghan always arrived early. It gave him grounds to say things like this. At his sharp words, the guy, looking embarrassed, apologized again, “Sorry,” almost bowing. He seemed to know he was wrong, but even that annoyed Ki Yeonghan. Not a single likable trait.
Yoon Yejun pulled up a chair and sat. Ki Yeonghan, arms crossed, didn’t bother straightening his tilted head, glaring at the guy with a face that screamed disdain.
Ki Yeonghan turned on a recorder. They had to do the assignment. The guy calmed his breathing and sipped his coffee. Staring at the condensation on the cup, Ki Yeonghan spoke purely for the assignment.
“Your job must keep you busy. You’re late and all.”
But his tone was far from friendly.
“Ah… Yeah, I finished at 2 a.m.”
“What, you work at a bar?”
“No. Tutoring yesterday.”
Must have multiple jobs. Ki Yeonghan glanced at him, nodded slightly, and let it go. Then he remembered this was a group project. He tried to keep his usual tone in check. If he spoke too harshly, who knew what the guy would write in the report.
“Looks like you’re working multiple jobs.”
“I’m doing two during the semester.”
“Right. But don’t people usually mention what kind of jobs they’re doing? Is communication that hard for you?”
“Tutoring, a bar, and a convenience store during breaks. But anyway.”
Ki Yeonghan tilted his head, responding to the man’s words.
“What should I call you?”
“My name.”
“What’s your name?”
At the man’s question, Ki Yeonghan’s expression openly crumpled. A surge of indignation welled up. Ki Yeonghan hated feeling like he was at a disadvantage. For the first time, he felt cheated simply because he knew the other person’s name while they didn’t know his.
“Yoon Yejun.”
“…”
“Shouldn’t you at least know the name of the person you’re in a group with? It’s not like we have a ton of group members to memorize.”
“You never told me.”
And just like that, Ki Yeonghan was left speechless. The only reason he knew Yoon Yejun’s name was because he’d been paying a tiny bit of attention to him, not because he’d made a deliberate effort to memorize it.
“…”
Still, he couldn’t help but feel irritated. Unable to hide his sour expression, Ki Yeonghan looked at the man. Yoon Yejun, with a calm face, glanced down at his coffee and took another sip. Ki Yeonghan nodded and muttered, “Ki Yeonghan.”
“Okay.”
Silence fell again. A noisy chatter broke through. Despite the early hour, there was another table occupied in the café besides theirs. With the new semester, freshmen and a senior trying to play leader among them were having a conversation, their faces still flushed from drinking the night before. When the senior threw out a comment, the freshmen burst into giggles. What a carefree life. Ki Yeonghan’s eyes drifted toward the lively group.
“My name’s Ki Yeonghan, I’m twenty-four, and I’m in the Political Science and Diplomacy Department.”
“Yoon Yejun. Twenty-six. Media and Communication. I’m back this year after a leave, so…”
Yoon Yejun raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. His neckline was slender. Ki Yeonghan stared at him quietly. He was different from the rough, masculine guys. He was on the pretty side. A question that had been nagging at him surfaced.
“Why’d you ask to be in the same group at first?”
He was genuinely curious. Ki Yeonghan knew he wasn’t bad-looking. His height was decent, and he didn’t come from a poor family, so he’d never felt inferior. Sure, plenty of people complained about his personality, but he’d consistently gotten confessions. This was the first time a guy was involved, though.
Suddenly, he thought of his foolish younger brother, who flirted with guys and got caught up in relationships without a clue. That made him even more curious. Could this guy be…
“Do you like guys?”
The moment Ki Yeonghan asked, the music cut off with a sharp—stop. He could feel the few people around checking his face. Next was Yoon Yejun. Yoon Yejun responded in a calm voice.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“I thought it’d be easier with someone of the same gender. I work a lot of part-time jobs, so I often finish late. Asking a girl to meet late would be inconsiderate. Even if it wasn’t you, Ki Yeonghan, I would’ve asked whoever was sitting next to me to be in my group.”
It made sense, but it didn’t feel great. It wasn’t about liking the guy or not. It was more like Yoon Yejun was shattering the towering pride Ki Yeonghan held. Still, Ki Yeonghan hid his emotions.
Instead, he sipped the cold Americano in front of him. The things that had been heating him up that morning cooled down. Shrugging his shoulders, he buttoned up his coat. Even in mid-March, the weather was still chilly.
There wasn’t much to say or do. He figured they could wrap up the conversation and call it a day. He had enough for the report. The guy had broken their agreed-upon meeting time and didn’t even know his name. First impression? Absolutely the worst.
Ki Yeonghan, rubbing the bridge of his nose, looked up. Their eyes met. The guy’s eyes were surprisingly light. Closer to brown than black, with a subtle, intriguing glow.
Well, there’s nothing left to do now.
“Should we call it a day?”
“What?”
Yoon Yejun asked, sounding startled. Ki Yeonghan checked the time. It was 9:12 a.m. Exactly ten minutes had passed since the guy arrived.
“There’s nothing more to say. I’ve got enough for the report.”
“Hmm…”
Yoon Yejun dragged out his words. It seemed like he had something to say. Ki Yeonghan waited quietly for whatever would come out of Yoon Yejun’s mouth.
“What’s your family like?”
“Why do I have to tell you that?”
“I’ve been thinking, your tone is pretty awful.”
Yoon Yejun’s brow furrowed, his face showing displeasure. Ki Yeonghan paused, then rolled his eyes slightly. What if the guy wrote this in the report? Since they were writing separate reports, they could badmouth each other without the other knowing. Just as Ki Yeonghan planned to write that the guy was two minutes late and didn’t know his name, Yoon Yejun might do the same.
Biting the soft flesh inside his cheek, Ki Yeonghan straightened his tilted head. Then, in the friendliest tone he’d used so far, he said, “I have a younger brother.”
“I’m an only child.”
“You didn’t…”
Ki Yeonghan, about to retort reflexively, pressed his lips together.
“I see.”
He forced a polite response.
Ki Yeonghan reflected on his past relationships again. Had he ever been curious about someone? Never. He’d meet, eat, watch movies, and that was it. He answered questions because they were “dating,” but beyond that…
How have I been dating all this time? A corner of his mind grew complicated. With a complex expression, Ki Yeonghan looked down at his phone, still recording. He hoped their reports would align somewhat, but he had no idea where to start or stop.
Yoon Yejun, staring at Ki Yeonghan, opened his mouth.
“How many times have you been in a relationship?”
“Twice.”
“How long did you date?”
“Do people usually ask that at a first meeting?”
“Just curious.”
Yoon Yejun finished speaking and flashed a subtle smile. He’d done the same in front of the professor. At the smoking area in front of the Liberal Arts Building, he’d laughed like that with friends, too. His eyes curved gently, and the mole under his eye rose and fell with his cheekbones.
“Didn’t last a few months. Satisfied?”
In truth, the longest was two months.
“Oh.”
Yoon Yejun let out a short sound. The gentle smile Ki Yeonghan had noticed deepened slightly.
“Figures.”
Ki Yeonghan’s left eye twitched, his face crumpling without restraint.
“And you…”
“…”
“How long have you dated?”
His tone was aggressive. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Surely Yoon Yejun hadn’t dated long either. With that socially inept tone, how could he?
“Well, I usually date for about a year.”
“…”
Speechless, Ki Yeonghan turned his head. He’d set himself up. Yoon Yejun added, like a fisherman who’d caught a big one, “I don’t act blatantly rude like some people.”
Ki Yeonghan’s expression hardened. Talking like that, saying whatever came to mind in front of someone, was infuriating.
Rude? Look who’s talking.
Ki Yeonghan bit the straw of his iced Americano, but even that felt stifling. He yanked it out and gulped the contents down. Far from refreshing, the cold coffee made his head throb.
“Yoon Yejun.”
Ki Yeonghan called the man in front of him. Tapping the table with his nails, he drew his attention. Yoon Yejun, who’d been looking at Ki Yeonghan’s fingertips, raised his head with an indifferent gaze.
“You’re misunderstanding something. We’re going to have to meet a few more times for the report. Do you know what I might write about you, and you’re still talking like that? Acting all nice and pretty in front of the professor, putting on every kind of show.”
“…”
Yoon Yejun maintained a blank expression. Ki Yeonghan, with a displeased look, repeatedly bit and released the flesh inside his cheek. The more he shot out words, the more it felt like he was being reeled in.
Yoon Yejun gave a light laugh. With a short exhale, like a scoff, Ki Yeonghan just stared at him. Swallowing his emotions, Yoon Yejun pressed his lips together, nodded slowly, and spoke.
“Ki Yeonghan.”
“What?”
“I’m only nice to people I want to be nice to. I only treat people like humans if they deserve it.”
“…Ha.”
Ki Yeonghan was dumbfounded, incredulous.
“I don’t care what you write in your report. You know I’ve got plenty to say too. When we were scheduling, I told you my job ends late, but you insisted on 9 a.m.”
“…”
“Who sets a first meeting at 9 a.m.? And the two minutes I was late? I’m sorry about that. But do you have to nitpick like you’re catching a rat?”
“Two minutes is enough to cook instant ramen.”
“You must eat your ramen al dente.”
Yoon Yejun didn’t back down an inch. Ki Yeonghan’s insides boiled over, ready to explode. He’d never met someone like this. And judging by his tone, it was clear this guy would keep being prickly, making the time ahead feel like a dark void.
Ki Yeonghan squeezed his eyes shut. Avoiding crap because it’s dirty? That wasn’t in his dictionary. Even if he had to scoop it out with a stick, he wouldn’t dodge it.
Ki Yeonghan licked his lips lightly, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. It wasn’t because he was ready to listen—it was because his pride stung knowing his body was slightly more forward than Yoon Yejun’s.
Yoon Yejun stared at him. His pretty face was plastered with irritation. But since he wasn’t arguing further, it seemed he had no intention of continuing the spat. Maybe I went too far. Yoon Yejun felt a twinge of guilt. Still, thinking it was better to set the tone early, he pulled his wallet from his pocket.
“Here.”
He placed movie tickets on the table, dug out from his wallet. There was a theater a ten-minute walk from school. He’d booked tickets for the top-grossing film. He was late that morning because he’d been reserving them. Ki Yeonghan was openly hostile, and since he’d likely respond curtly, Yoon Yejun planned to watch the movie and write the report.
“What’s this?”
As expected, Ki Yeonghan’s brow furrowed the moment he saw the tickets.
“I’m sorry for going off earlier. Let’s go see this. We can’t just sit in a café forever.”
“Why would I watch a movie with you?”
As predicted.
How am I supposed to deal with this guy moving forward… Yoon Yejun clenched his jaw.
“I need material for the report too. More content is good for you too, right?”
Speaking in a softer, persuasive tone, Yoon Yejun saw Ki Yeonghan, who’d been glaring, lower his gaze. He read the tickets, seeming to consider it. Then he looked up. His eyes are really pretty, Yoon Yejun thought, meeting his gaze. They sparkled like polished marbles. It made him curious about Ki Yeonghan’s parents.
If he didn’t open his mouth so much, he’d probably be popular. Not my type, though.
“But why’d you buy them?”
“…”
“Oh—trying to get some material for the report.”
That damn mouth.
🍬
It was early morning, so the theater was nearly empty. Yoon Yejun sat on a bench outside the screening room, holding the tickets. He was waiting for Ki Yeonghan, who’d stepped away briefly. The guy had grumbled the whole way there, making Yoon Yejun’s ears burn. The fact that someone had dated a guy like that was a miracle. They could do anything.
“…”
Yoon Yejun looked down at the tickets in his hand. He hadn’t seen the trailer and had bought them because it was the top-ranked film. Curious about the plot, he looked it up later and found it was a romantic comedy. He preferred action movies. Did rom-coms still sell these days? It was bound to be bland.
When was the last time I cared about romance…
Unlike the self-centered Ki Yeonghan, Yoon Yejun wasn’t a lone wolf and had definitely liked someone before. He slowly counted the years. Two years ago. The last one barely counted as a relationship, fizzling out vaguely.
With a bitter smile, Yoon Yejun pulled his lips down, then returned them to their usual position. He was used to it now. At most, he’d wonder once a year what that person was up to.
“When’s he coming…”
Muttering to himself, Yoon Yejun saw Ki Yeonghan appear. Lost in wistful thoughts, he couldn’t hide his shock at the sight.
“Is he insane?”
Ki Yeonghan was carrying a mountain of food. Nachos, popcorn, a hot dog, and two drinks. It was a wonder he could carry it all. Watching him approach precariously, Yoon Yejun stood and went to him.
“Hey, take some.”
Ki Yeonghan snapped immediately. Yoon Yejun took the nachos, hot dog, and one drink, asking, “Didn’t eat breakfast?”
Plopping into a seat, Ki Yeonghan set the popcorn beside him. As if parched, he gulped down his drink.
“You…”
Come to think of it, Ki Yeonghan never used polite terms like “sunbae” or “hyung,” even as a courtesy. Yoon Yejun, from his various part-time jobs, was used to adding “” to names, but many found it awkward before entering the workforce. Yet Ki Yeonghan used it naturally. “Hey,” “you,” “Yoon Yejun.” Especially with “Yoon Yejun,” he enunciated each syllable—Yoon, Ye, Jun, Ssi—like a staccato.
“I know you’re trying to get a good report evaluation all to yourself, so how could I let that slide?”
Yoon Yejun swallowed a breath, listening to Ki Yeonghan’s brazen, rude chatter. Could someone’s personality be this twisted? He’d never seen anyone like him.
Back at the café, Ki Yeonghan should’ve been cowed, calling him “hyung” and following him around by now, but this guy was no ordinary stubborn mule.
Yoon Yejun had seen people take kindness for granted, but never hostility. Unable to hide his sour expression, he met Ki Yeonghan’s eyes and brought his lips to the straw in front of him.
“…Thanks.”
What a hassle. And yet, the cold cola was annoyingly delicious.
🍬
Ki Yeonghan stared at the large screen with cold eyes.
The romantic comedy, with its bickering leads, was passable. Some people laughed heartily at parts, but it wasn’t that funny.
“…”
Truthfully, the movie’s plot barely registered. His attention was more on Yoon Yejun, sitting next to him.
Yoon Yejun, who’d dozed off in class, fell asleep the moment the movie started. Did he think this was a sleep clinic? Talking about reports, then doing whatever he wanted.
Even if Yoon Yejun didn’t care, Ki Yeonghan had plenty to write. Yoon Yejun’s date manners were the worst. He was late, made a fuss, suggested a movie, and then slept through it.
Yoon Yejun barely ate. He’d picked at a couple of nachos before the movie started, leaving them neatly on his lap. Did I overdo it? Ki Yeonghan pursed his lips. He’d bought all that food out of spite because Yoon Yejun had paid for the tickets. Nothing about this guy was likable.
“…”
Ki Yeonghan glanced at the sleeping Yoon Yejun out of the corner of his eye. His lips were slightly pouty. His eyelashes were long, curling upward at the ends. Ki Yeonghan hadn’t planned to look closely, but as he’d noticed before, it wasn’t an unattractive face. Not ugly, but… maybe… what’s the word…
Frowning as he tried to define it, Ki Yeonghan stared at Yoon Yejun’s face.
Suddenly, Yoon Yejun’s head dipped and rose, and Ki Yeonghan quickly turned back to the screen. Getting caught staring would’ve been mortifying. Not that he had anything to feel guilty about, but his body reacted faster than his thoughts.
What’s with this movie?
He’d only looked at Yoon Yejun’s face for a moment, but now the bickering leads were kissing passionately. Fighting like that and then wanting to kiss? It made no sense to a normal person.
Nod. Yoon Yejun’s head dipped again. Even without looking directly, the big motion was noticeable. But the weight on Ki Yeonghan’s shoulder was unexpected. Yoon Yejun had leaned his head on him.
Thud. Without hesitation, Ki Yeonghan raised his shoulder, knocking Yoon Yejun’s head off. Yoon Yejun, startled, woke up and looked around. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, subtly checking Ki Yeonghan’s reaction. No drool, at least. Ki Yeonghan pretended to focus on the screen. “I love you, I love you.” Do your nonsense. He cursed inwardly at the actors’ fervent confessions.
Stretching as if shrinking into himself, Yoon Yejun moved his hand. He took a sip of cola, let out a small yawn, and leaned back in his chair. Finally planning to watch? That was something, at least. This guy was so aggravating.
“…”
But as if nothing had happened, Yoon Yejun started nodding off again. After being knocked off once, you’d think he’d be more careful about leaning on someone.
“…”
Yoon Yejun leaned on Ki Yeonghan again. Honestly, it wasn’t heavy, but it was annoying. Was he doing it on purpose? Ki Yeonghan knocked Yoon Yejun’s head off again. This time, the guy didn’t even wake up, shamelessly sleeping through it.
“Hey.”
Ki Yeonghan leaned toward Yoon Yejun and whispered. No reaction. Gnashing his teeth, Ki Yeonghan called again, almost chanting.
“…Hey.”
It was absurd. Had he fainted or died? But the faint, steady sound of breathing confirmed he was asleep.
How could someone sleep through being hit and called? Ki Yeonghan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and leaned closer. He was almost face-to-face. He’d never imagined seeing Yoon Yejun’s face this close. His cheek, pressed against Ki Yeonghan’s shoulder, puffed out slightly. His muttering lips were a bonus. So damn annoying. The more Ki Yeonghan looked, the more irritation filled his face.
“Hey, Yoon Yejun.”
Unable to hold back his rising temper, Ki Yeonghan called him. With patience near zero outside of studying, he’d endured as much as he could.