The Eyesore Couple
"Hey... Siho..."
"Yeah?"
Just as I was gathering my things after the lecture ended, a student sitting behind me called out cautiously and tapped my shoulder. I turned my head to look back over my shoulder. She was a girl in my department and year—someone whose face I recognized, but whose name I didn't know. I gave her a pleasant smile. The more distant a person is, the more kindly you should smile at them. Incidentally, that’s a skill I learned from Choa. Back in high school, she used to nag me, saying, "Your expression is always so stiff, you need to practice smiling!"
"What is it?"
"Um... that thing on your neck... maybe you should... cover it up?"
As if suggesting I check for myself, she pulled a hand mirror from her bag and held it out to me. I checked my neck through the mirror.
"Ah..."
There were hickeys plastered all over my neck. There were even a few faint teeth marks. I’d overslept and rushed out the door, so I hadn't checked. It was as if we were suffering from a terminal illness that would kill us if we didn't kiss; Choa and I had been at it intensely again yesterday. We’d gone beyond lips, biting and sucking on each other's necks, moving lower and lower, teasing each other by flicking our tongues near our collarbones. This was part of the "practice" that had been going on for days. Practice meant preparing for when I eventually got a girlfriend, ensuring I’d be skilled at kissing. Choa had volunteered to be my partner, and we hadn't missed a single day of tangling our tongues. We’d share a light kiss upon waking, steal a quick peck when bored, and by evening, we’d be on the bed, wrapped around each other, greedily swapping spit.
Yesterday had been even more intense. When I boldly squeezed Choa’s firm, bouncy butt, she seemed so turned on that she served me even more actively. When I stuck my tongue out, she’d suck on it, *slurp, slurp*. When I spat saliva into the mouth of a panting, gasping Choa, she’d catch it with her tongue and swallow it whole. We weren't dating. These were just things we allowed ourselves to do under the guise of being Childhood Friends, telling each other, "It's just this much." The line was still blurry, and the intensity kept rising. Yesterday, I’d wedged my knee between Choa’s legs and pressed my thigh against her lower abdomen, and as if responding to that, she’d subtly rubbed her G-Spot against my thigh. She seemed to be enjoying the thrill, thinking I wouldn't notice, but how could I not when she kept wriggling her hips?
Watching that clumsy side of Choa was enjoyable. It was enjoyable, but... at the same time, it was agonizing. Seeing that, I’d be left with a throbbing erection, unable to do anything. I wanted to rub my cock against her soft skin, too. I wanted to grind it against the soft flesh of her inner thighs. But all I could do at those moments was feel her belly press against my cock whenever she shifted. After Choa went home, I’d immediately take off my pants and jerk off. My material was the photos saved on my phone. To be precise, photos of Choa’s pussy. Perhaps she’d developed a taste for it, but every time she sent me "material," she’d send me her own photos to use as a side dish. She probably thought I didn't know those were her own selfies. Unfortunately, I knew very well. Every single photo had the same heart-shaped mole on the right labia majora. Anyway, thanks to that, my album was full of photos of Choa’s pussy. I’d received nearly 50 in just a few days. For the record, I’d started sharing porn back and sending her a few photos of my own cock. Since she sent me photos of her genitals, I was returning the favor with photos of mine. Choa probably never imagined those were mine. After all, I didn't have any identifying marks like a heart-shaped mole.
"Thanks for telling me."
I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand. No wonder... people had been glancing at me all day. I’d been walking around proudly with hickeys plastered all over my neck, so it was only natural I’d get those looks. I thanked the girl once more and headed to a convenience store. I knew that people usually used bandages to hide hickeys. I could have used concealer, but there was no way I had any. I bought a pack of bandages. I went straight to the restroom, looked in the mirror, and covered the hickeys with the bandages.
"Wait... doesn't this make it stand out even more...?"
There were bandages plastered all over my neck. If it had been just one or two, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but with five or six, it was impossible to hide... It ended up being like advertising to the whole neighborhood that I’d been kissing. Still, was it better than not covering them at all? I took the remaining bandages and went to meet Choa. Luckily, our timing worked out today, and we’d promised to have dinner and head back together. When I arrived at the bus stop where we were supposed to meet, Choa was already there. She was standing to one side, looking at her phone. She was, as always, incredibly popular... The men waiting for the bus were casting glances at her. Just then, one man gathered his courage and approached Choa. He said something and held out his phone. Choa politely declined with a gentle smile. It was a familiar sight. I approached her just as the man was walking away with a dejected look on his face.
"Can't you move any faster?"
As soon as Choa saw me, she greeted me with her usual playful grin.
"I came right after class ended."
"Let's go. I'm hungry."
"Okay."
I naturally checked Choa’s neck. There were two bandages on her neck. A relatively small number. It was because when we kissed, I focused on Choa’s lips, while she kissed various parts of my body as if she were marking her territory.
"Whoa..."
Choa checked my neck and made a disgusted sound.
"It's a work of art you created."
"Did I say anything?"
The bus arrived just then, and we boarded. The bus wasn't crowded, but there were no seats left. We had no choice but to stand side-by-side, holding onto the handrails.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Pork cutlet."
"Pork cutlet again?"
"Then Malatang."
"Malatang again?"
How could her menu choices be so consistent? If I had to choose between the two, it would be pork cutlet, but even that gets tiring if you eat it all the time. I’d had pork cutlet at the student cafeteria just yesterday for lunch.
"Then what do you want to eat?"
"Nothing in particular."
"See? You don't have any ideas yourself, yet you just complain."
Choa kicked my shin lightly.
"Pas..."
"Don't you dare say pasta."
"Cham..."
"Don't you dare say Jjamppong."
Every time I tried to suggest a menu, Choa cut me off before I could finish. I let out a sigh.
"Fine... let's have pork cutlet... pork cutlet is fine..."
I figured I could eat it as long as it wasn't the old-school Korean-style pork cutlet. It wasn't that the old-school style tasted bad. It was just that I’d already had it yesterday.
"But, Siho..."
Choa lowered her voice and whispered.
"Why?"
Choa stood on her tiptoes and whispered into my ear.
"...People are looking at us."
At Choa’s words, I tilted my head and scanned our surroundings. Now that I looked closely, people around us were indeed glancing our way. It might have been because of Choa’s beauty, which drew attention even when she was just standing there, but the gazes were directed at the spots where the bandages were plastered. They seemed to be staring at our necks. A man and a woman standing side-by-side, both with bandages on their necks. It was enough to make onlookers imagine all sorts of things. If I were in their shoes, I would have thought the same. I probably would have felt a pang of envy, thinking to myself, "They definitely did it yesterday." I knew what they were imagining, but we weren't that kind of couple. We were Childhood Friends. Or, Testicle Friends. Nothing more, nothing less.
"...I bet we look like a total eyesore couple to everyone else, right?"
Choa whispered with a giggle.
"It's not like we're dating."
"True."
I answered indifferently. It's not like we're dating... I wish we were.
"Then should we make it look even more like an eyesore?"
"What?"
Choa grinned, her playfulness clearly activated. She placed her right hand over my left hand, which was holding the bus handle. I was enveloped by her soft skin. But that wasn't all. Her slender fingers wove between mine.
"Hah...!"
As soon as we interlaced our fingers, the female student sitting right in front of us twisted her expression in disgust and let out a scoff.
"Hey...!"
I called out to Choa in a low voice. Choa was looking off into the distance, acting as if she were completely innocent. Holding hands wasn't a difficult thing for us to do, but interlacing fingers in a public place like this felt embarrassing. I wasn't the only one feeling the embarrassment. Choa’s earlobes were bright red. She was the one who started it, yet she was the one feeling shy. If she were embarrassed, she could have just let go, but she held on firmly until her hand felt hot.
"Ugh... seriously...!"
The student in front of us kept glancing back and giving us a sour look. There were plenty of bus handles to go around, yet here we were, a man and a woman sharing one.
"Ugh... I, I think it's better if we don't...!"
Just as I felt Choa’s sweat on the back of my hand, she let go and shook her hand out.
"Oh! We're here!"
We arrived at our destination just in time and got off the bus. As I stepped off, I felt stinging gazes on the back of my head. Most of them were uncomfortable, but there was a mix of envy in there, too.