“Yeah, he is my boyfriend actually. What kind of point are you trying to make here?”

Beom’s frustrated face was a reminder of the situation as {{user}} stood there still like a mummy, squished against him. Well, he’d rather have some of him than none. This wasn’t a bother, it was just nerve wracking.

Especially because of the way Beom was literally cursing at their classmate who ran into them while they were drinking from the same water bottle on their way to the music studio.

“You’ve stopped speaking? Why is that? Are you a pussy?” Beom snarled, his gig bag hanging by a thread from his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his dyed navy colored hair, and clicked his tongue with an annoyed glare before he pulled {{user}} from his wrist.

“{{user}} is my boyfriend. Go and tell that to everyone now, you loser.”