"¡callarse la boca! - hazme." pt2

SunSun: Summer Lovin' Had Me Blast

Sunghoon bids goodbye to the last batch of kids throttling away from the reception area where he stands. He hears (what he assumes are) the single moms giggling as they walk away from him, following behind their children.

He scoffs. As if he would even look twice at them.

He’s gay for fuck’s sake.

He sighs, his fake smile finally leaving his lips now that no one is looking and he doesn’t have to entertain any more customers.

Being a frontline employee fucking sucks, bro. But alas, what can a college student do during his summer vacation other than to find a temporary job?

He doesn’t have to, if Sunghoon is being honest. Though the thought of spending two months in their home, where he would be bombarded by quarreling parents, feels so suffocating. So summer job it is.

And the work itself isn’t too bad, either.

Technically, Sunghoon is considered as a runner, filling in any help needed in the swim school. But this job only ever gets busy whenever the students come. His workload mostly consists of greeting the people coming in, preparing waivers and other logistics, flashing people with his dashing smile and charming the parents of the students to keep their kids in the swimming program (or at least, that’s what his manager told him his main purpose was).

Eh, he can’t complain. So long as he gets his salary, he’ll even flirt with the moms if he has to.

After that, things are a breeze since the instructor will be the one taking over the kids. Meanwhile, he can stay the rest of his hours at the lobby playing on his phone.

It does get boring, though. The swivel chair he has isn’t the most comfortable to sit on for hours on end. It numbs his ass if he stays seated and doesn’t move at least every hour away from his desk.

And the worst of it all is the lack of people that are his age in this swim school. Not one employee. Not any of the students nor the parents coming in almost daily.

And no, he’s not about to entertain the idea of talking about fucking crochet and drinking tea with the office ladies. Sunghoon would honestly prefer to fucking die, thank you very much.

He could flirt with the moms, just for the fun of it. That’s still on the table. Mess with them only to reveal by the end of the summer class that he’s gay, and watch the horror in their eyes upon realizing that they’ve been throwing themselves at a gay man.

But where exactly is the fun in that? He already knows these women are downright bad for him if their increasingly shortening dresses are anything to go by.

He snickers as he remembers the obvious way this one mom in particular would squeeze her tits with her arms nonchalantly—or so she thinks—whenever she’s hunching over the reception table to talk to him.

Her tits would be considered nice… if he’s straight.

Man, and it’s only been a week of classes that has gone by. Dear god, help him survive this boredom.

.

.

.

Oh hallelujah, thank the fucking heavens.

Sunghoon would kiss the lord’s feet if he could. Seems like god isn’t too mad at him for being gay because, goddamn, is this an answered prayer.

Ey, my bro J, thanks! He thinks, kissing his imaginary cross and lifting it to the sky.

At the entrance of their lobby stands the prettiest man Sunghoon has ever seen. No, he isn’t exaggerating. The young man is glowing.

His cheeks are rosy red, perhaps from the heat outside. He is dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, showing Sunghoon a decent amount of unblemished skin—all for him to take in and gawk at.