Chapter 1
I HATED KIM JUNMYEON
I hated him with every fiber of my being, with the scorching fire of a thousand burning suns. I hated him in ways I couldn’t even describe.
Are you wondering why?
Let me tell you the damn reasons...
It started in primary school. Yes. I’ve hated that bastard since then. Fifth year, U10 Rugby Union Grand Final. He was the captain of his team. I was the captain of mine. He scored the winning try and led his school to the state finals. Half of my team was crying with their parents while I just glared at him. And you know what he did?
The bastard smiled at me.
High school came around. Seventh year, St. Ignatius Boys’ College. One of Sydney’s most exclusive private schools, where Kim Junmyeon and I would be classmates, teammates on the rugby team. He was the team captain, because of course, he was. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect face.
Maybe I would have even liked the guy.
Until two weeks before the finals. I came home, and my parents sat me down. Mom had been crying, Dad was silent and brooding. Devastated.
I had to change schools and move houses. Dad had lost his business, and I would have to attend the local public high school.
They couldn’t afford the tuition because my dear father’s hardware store had been gutted and sold for pennies to none other than the hardware giant Kim Corp. Of fucking Kim Junmyeon.
Fast forward to the eighth-grade rugby semifinals. North Ryde Public High against St. Ignatius; poor neighborhood boys against rich, snobby boys with refined tastes. My old school, my old friends, and my new arch-nemesis.
Ten minutes into the second half, we were ahead by four. Junmyeon made a break down the sideline, about to score for sure. I lined that bastard up, cleared half the field to crush him to the ground. I tackled him by the legs and drove him to the bench. I stopped him from scoring and saved the game. Everyone cheered, and I was named player of the match. But I couldn’t even boast because I had to go to the hospital since, when I tackled him, I broke my arm.
I missed the grand final because of him.
I hated Kim Junmyeon. I hated him because I had let my team down, and I hated him because he was still in private school while I was in the shithole that was public high school.
I hated him more because my father struggled a lot. He was never the same after that.
Fast forward again to the tenth grade. The Sydney High School Rugby Carnival. I never actually got to play against him, but I saw him. In his school team uniform, with his rich girlfriend, his long hair, and his pretty smile. I hated that he had the perfect life, an easy life, while I kept my head down, trying not to be obvious about checking out the boys in the locker rooms.
Shirtless, sweaty, hot.
I hated that I noticed him. He was tall, lean, and fit. His dark hair was loose, his skin pale, and his cheeks flushed.
I hated him for making me want him.
With no hopes of going to college, I dropped out of high school at the end of the tenth grade and started working in construction as an apprentice. I enjoyed it and was good at it. I hung out with my friends. I still played rugby on weekends, but I was out of the school division, so I never played against him again.
Though I did see him at some games.
He grew even taller, gained muscle. With his hair still loose, high cheekbones, and sharp jawline, he was attractive enough to be a model and drew attention wherever he went.
I hated him for that too.
Then I didn’t see him for a few years. Maybe he went to college. Hell, for all I knew, he could have been on a runway in Milan. But it was hard not to remember him when his family’s hardware megacorp went national and damn, there were billboards of him everywhere, all the damn time. TV, radio, internet. That damn commercial ad irked me intensely. I hated him.
Despite it all, there were about two years of my life where I never thought about damn Kim Junmyeon.
Two wonderful years of working and playing hard, both on and off the field.
Monday to Friday, I was the foreman of my construction crew. Saturday afternoons were for games or training, and Saturday nights were spent drinking with my friends, usually ending in a drunken fistfight or balls deep in some guy’s ass.
Two wonderful years without Kim Junmyeon.
Until the new rugby season started. A trial game against the Lane Cove Tigers, and who should step onto the field as one of their starting centers?
Fucking Kim Junmyeon.
And he looked good. Really fucking good. And I had the satisfaction of seeing him do a double-take when he saw me. His eyes met mine, and that bastard smiled around his mouthguard.
And all that bitter rage just bubbled to the surface.
I had never wanted to hurt someone so badly.
Within minutes, he had the ball. I tried to tackle him. I dove for his legs, but the slippery bastard was quick. Then we got caught in a scrum, shoulders pressed tightly, and that bastard muttered something.
“Got something to say, princess?” I growled. He laughed. He actually laughed.
I broke the scrum and grabbed his jersey, pulling my fist back, ready to start the fight. I was going to break his fucking perfect nose. He came at me too, taunting as he lunged at me, but our teams pulled us apart.
My best friend, Chanyeol, held me back.
“Take it easy, man,” he said, dragging me away.
“I fucking hate that son of a bitch,” I said, trying to keep my anger in check.
“I know.” Chanyeol had been my best friend since the day I started at Shithole Public High. He knew my story. He knew why.
“Just let it go.”
Typical Chanyeol. He was a giant man, a two-meter tall, one-meter-wide Samoan. He could stop a freight train on the rugby field. Off the field, he was the kindest, gentlest man you’d ever meet. The only thing bigger than his smile was his heart.
I was more the type to hold a grudge forever.
The game ended, and the fact that we won on their home turf made up for not being able to punch Junmyeon. Afterward, we went back to the pub, their team sponsor. They sat around some tables in one corner; we sat in the other. I tried to shake off my anger, but I couldn’t help glancing over at you-know-who.
In his expensive, tasteful sweater that matched his dark hair and made his skin look extra pale.
Chanyeol knocked his knee against mine.
“Stop it.”
I hated that after two years, damn Kim Junmyeon was under my skin like not a day had been missed. Needing to clear my head, I stood up.
“My turn to buy a round.” I went to the bar, ordered a round for my table, and handed out beers to everyone. I took a long swig of mine. “Gotta take a leak,” I said.
“Don’t start anything,” Noah said. Another teammate of mine and a guy who always had my back when someone needed a lesson in manners outside a bar at two in the morning.
I smiled at him.
“Of course not.”
I went to the men’s room, peed at the urinal, and when I was washing my hands, who should walk in?
Yeah.
Fucking Kim Junmyeon
He stopped when he saw me, then that bastard smiled.
My body reacted viscerally and instantly. My blood boiled, rage shot through me, and my hands clenched into fists.
“What the hell do you want?”
Before he could answer, there was loud laughter just outside the door. Junmyeon turned at the sound before throwing me a panicked look, grabbing me, and pushing me into one of the stalls.
I almost fell, my hand against the wall to keep myself upright.
“What the fuck…?”
But in a blink, he locked the door and held his forearm against my chest and his other hand over my mouth.
“Shh.”
I was trying to push him off me when one of the guys who walked in spoke.
“Yeah, it’s Oh Sehun.”
Me?
With Junmyeon’s hand still over my mouth, he pressed his body against mine and put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. His eyes were such a dark brown they were almost
black, his lips were the same pink that ran in streaks across his cheeks.
God, I hated him.
I hated how my body reacted to him. I hated that he could probably feel it.
“Well, he’s a piece of shit,” said another voice at the urinal
. “See how he almost hit Kim? The bastard will get what’s coming to him.”
I tried to push Junmyeon off me, but he pressed harder.
“Apparently, he fights pretty well,” the first guy said. “For a gay guy.”
“He’s gay?”
My chest heaved, and Junmyeon’s eyes darted between mine. He shook his head.
“Yeah. He fucks anything, fights anything. He’s a piece of shit.”
The urinals flushed, and the other man said something about watching your back, and I would have laughed if Junmyeon’s hips weren’t pressed against mine.
If I couldn’t feel his cock brushing against mine. It felt good, too.
What the fuck?
Then I remembered who he was.
I tried to push him away again, but then, with his hand still covering my mouth, he slid his other hand down and cupped my cock. He grabbed my balls and squeezed, then stroked my shaft. A bit too hard, a bit too rough.
A bit too good.
“What are you…?” I tried to say behind his hand. I wasn’t fighting him anymore, and he knew it.
He moved his hand to my throat, squeezing a little.
“Keep your mouth shut,” he whispered. It was a threat.
I shouldn’t have liked it. I hated that I did.
Then he moved his hand down my neck, over my chest, lower. He undid the button of my jeans and pulled down the zipper. With a flash of warning in his eyes, he dropped to his knees.
When he saw my traitorous erection, he let out the softest groan. Then he gave me the best blowjob of my life.
He used his hands, his mouth, his tongue.
All I could do was grab his hair and focus on not making any noise while he sucked me off.
He made me come so fast, so intensely. He swallowed everything I gave him and didn’t stop until the last drop.
And while I was slumped against the wall with my jeans around my thighs, my head spinning and my bones turned to jelly, without saying a word, he got up and left.
For a minute or two, I wondered if I had imagined it.
But my cock was still happy, the buzzing in my blood and my empty balls told me it was very real.
After composing myself, I went back to my table, with my friends.
“Are you okay?” Chanyeol asked me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, drinking my beer. I was so damn fine.
But I watched Junmyeon across the bar while he drank his beer and laughed with his teammates. Then I saw him leave with them, and not once did he look back. Not once did he look at me.
He just left as if what he had done meant nothing at all.
Yeah. I really hated Kim Junmyeon.
