The coldest place on earth

The water was cold. When he touched it with his fingertips, Jungkook pulled himself away, jumping to his feet. The rubber flip-flops squeaked and echoed repeatedly across the empty, semi-dark pool. Jungkook stepped to the edge, his mind buzzing with anticipation and his heart racing with excitement. Just as his toes were about to touch the placid water, his whole body, from top to toe, was struck by lightning. His legs weakened, his stomach cramped so tightly that he curled up, panic gripping his stomach with his hands. Sweat beaded on his forehead. A bad sense of dread lingered in the chlorine stinking air. “Haha, grab his legs!” “He’s twitching, what an asshole!” “You broke his nose, damn it! There’s blood here!” The voices blended into a single rumble. His eardrums began to burn as Jeon, unbending, clenched them with all his might with wet with his wet palms. “Get him out! Get him out-ass…!” “Get the fucking coach!” “What’s going on here?!” Straightening up abruptly, Jungkook stared blankly at the annoyingly blue wall of the pool, with the light barely falling on it. “It’s okay,” he said quietly out loud. Clenching his fists, the boy shook off his flip-flops and took a few steps backwards, running around and jumping off the edge of the pool. “I’ll feel better when I’m submerged in the water,” he repeated to himself as the wave created by the fall into the deep covered Jeon head to toe. With the tip of his nose touching the bottom, he opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness in front of him. His body began to go numb. “No!” Gripping his arms, he dragged his torso upwards in panic. Above his head, a pale yellow light blinked sparsely. Once on the surface, Jungkook coughed loudly, grasping fiercely at the edge of the pool with his fingers. The thick, heavy air clenched his ribs and squeezed him as if a giant slab of concrete was pressing down on his sides. A convulsive sigh once again echoed anxiously through the large, empty room. Quiet footsteps sounded. Turning his head toward the entrance, he saw the door ajar and the coach emerge from the darkness. Noticing the helpless face of Jeon floundering in the water, the man pressed his lips together and asked in a loud tone: “How are you?” Jungkook opened his pale lips: “I thought I’d go for a swim…” “No, I’m asking how you’re doing,” the trainer interrupted him, his sharp eyes fixed on him. “I’m fine,” the boy lied, his face not changing in the slightest. The man nodded, pulling out a jingling bundle from the pocket of his grey tracksuit. “Here are the keys,” he said, placing them on the chair. “When you’re done, close the pool and give them to the guard.” Jungkook obediently shook his head, sighing intermittently. “Thank you.” The coach yanked his shoulder and turned around, heading back towards the door. Halfway out, he stopped and squeezed out: “Be careful. Don’t stay out too late.” The door slammed shut. Jungkook was alone again. Closing his eyes for a moment, he listened to the silence hovering in the empty pool. Only his rumbling hitched breathing and the sound of tiny splashes of water could be heard. There was no stomping, no hands gripping him firmly by the back of the head and plunging him under the cold water that paralysed his limbs. There was no brown, muddy blood spreading across the surface in a huge swampy stain. Swallowing hard, Jungkook shook his head and turned around, looking at the path. It was only worth it to swim to the opposite end. It was nothing complicated. “I want it. I want it!” — the voice in his head repeated insistently. Taking a deep breath, Jungkook closed his eyes tightly and dived in. In an instant, the water encircled his entire body as if he had jumped into a quagmire. Every instinct demanded him to fight his urges, to return to safety, but this time he refused to give in. Making wide paddles, Jungkook briefly sucked in air, opening his mouth and feeling the water seep into his throat. It hurt, but his legs kept moving, dragging his body forward with difficulty. When the top of his head suddenly collided with the tiles of the pool on the opposite side, Jeon stopped and, throwing up his arms, quickly climbed to the edge, spitting up a foul taste in his mouth. Turning sideways, he licked his lips, staring in disbelief at the path he had travelled. Lifting the corners of his lips, Jungkook hummed weakly. “Damn, it worked.” However, he had no intention of having any more feelings that could disturb him again today, so Jeon quickly pulled himself up on slightly trembling legs and hurriedly made his way towards the changing rooms. Grabbing his keys from the chair, he switched off the lights and, after one last look around the pool, closed the door behind him, twisting the key in the lock with a loud click. Entering the cool, dimly lit changing room, Jungkook felt himself calming down. The feeling of a tiny victory was sweet, but he still had a long way to go before he finally regained control of his body and mind. Taking a few deep breaths, he rummaged around in his locker and, picking up a towel and shampoo, headed for the shower. Pulling the translucent curtain behind him, Jeon stacked the supplies on a small hanging shelf and squelched the swim trunks that clung tightly to his powerful thighs. Twisting the tap, he lifted his head, relaxing his eyes. Standing under the stream of warm water, he felt the drops gently falling on his frozen skin, gradually warming him. He felt the tension slowly leave his body and he opened his lips, catching the occasional splash with his tongue. The water pleasantly massaged his inflamed muscles while washing away the chlorine. Picking up a sponge and squeezing gel onto it, Jeon soaped his body, going over every aching spot. His hand slid down and touched his pubes. Jungkook opened his eyes, his wet lashes fluttering fleetingly. The rough surface of the sponge rubbed against his skin, spreading goosebumps through his body. Clenching his teeth, Jeon felt a sudden urge come over him. “Fuck,” he muttered, tossing the sponge back on the shelf. Picking up the shower, he rinsed his body, trying to cool it down, but the heat wouldn’t go away. When was the last time his hands had touched his own body? “Well, not at uni,” Jeon muttered, hoping the words would bring a modicum of sanity back to his brain, but his body, as if to prevent it, only became more aroused. “Fuck.” With a noisy sigh, Jungkook squeezed his cock with vigour and twitched his hand a couple of times excitedly. His body was wet, making it harder to slide against his skin. Bending his arm at the elbow, he rested his forehead against it and, biting his lower lip, leisurely ran his rough fingers from pubis to glans, creating a light tickling sensation. Clenching his jaw firmly, he didn’t make a sound as a small drop of pre-ejaculate fell from the tip. The water continued to pour down the back of his neck, slipping and licking down his body. Black strands of hair clung to Jungkook’s face, hiding his pleasure-clouded eyes. The feeling of wetness and warmth, the rush of sensation flowing over his skin, the pleasure growing with each passing second, the sound of the water splashing across the tiles, and the realisation that he was all alone — all of it pressed down on Jungkook, making him almost jump with tension. Rubbing the red and swollen head with the palm of his hand, Jeon exhaled shallowly and jumped up, sinking his teeth into the skin. His eyes flew open from the pressure and didn’t close even when the water hit them. Moaning, Jungkook made a few more forward and backward motions with his hand, and thrust his hips as if he were thrusting hard into someone, and with a groan, he poured out. There was a strange clicking sound from behind him. Jungkook froze. Standing motionless, he listened carefully. Other than the splashing of water, there was nothing else that could produce such a sound. Turning round over his shoulder, he hesitantly looked at the curtain. Was there anyone else here? A white light bulb flickered on. Abruptly pulling back the curtain, Jungkook peeked out from behind it and quickly analysed his surroundings. The shower room consisted of three stalls. The door opposite was tightly closed. All the curtains were ajar. No one. Then where was that sound coming from? A lamp? His breathing quickened as Jeon slid his eyes around the room, searching for any sign of movement. But the shower room remained completely silent, save for the steady stream of water falling from the watering can. He had a feeling that someone or something was watching him, but when he tried to convince himself that it was just his imagination, the clicking sound came again. It was enough to scare him half to death. Jeon quickly switched off the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his thighs before rushing toward the changing rooms, grabbing the shampoo and a wet sponge full of lather as he did so. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move, even if it meant saving his own life. A click followed him into the locker room, and his imagination played out fear-inducing thoughts. What if someone was watching him? What if someone was hiding behind one of the curtains? What if… Rushing to the locker, Jeon froze. A click. The sound came from right behind him. Clutching the tube of gel in his hand, Jeon spun around, clenching his fist to strike if he needed to, but the tension left his body when his gaze flickered to the mirror hanging in the middle of the locker room and the small wooden nightstand. On it, vibrating faintly, lay a phone. Someone else’s phone. Had someone left it in the locker room? The screen flashed up: “Urgent.” The phone continued to vibrate rhythmically. Jungkook didn’t dare to answer the call, and after waiting for the clicking ringtone to finally subside, he picked it up. It was an ordinary smartphone with a dark blue case. “I’ll take it to the guard,” Jeon whispered, heading back to his locker to change. Wiping himself well, the guy soon left the locker room, switching off the lights there. Ducking into the dark corridor of the university, he moved quickly towards the exit. Reaching the security desk, which was a few feet away from the main door, Jungkook leaned over and after saying hello to the yawning guard, who was an older man, he handed him his phone and a bunch of pool keys. “Someone had left their mobile phone in the changing room.” The man nodded, looking at the smartphone with tired eyes. “Okay, we’ll find the lost one tomorrow,” the man looked at Jungkook with a frown as he put it away in a drawer. “Why haven’t you dried your head?” The boy touched his wet hair in a stupor. He wanted to leave the locker room as soon as possible, so he had completely forgotten about drying it. “It’s okay, I’ll go. Goodbye.” After saying goodbye to the guard, Jungkook left the building. The cold snowy street welcomed him with open arms. It had been a tense and strange evening, but now it was all behind him. The phone was no longer his problem, so Jeon couldn’t help but feel relieved. Taking a few deep breaths, he began the long walk home, hoping to catch at least one bus. The streets of Seoul were covered in a thick layer of January snow, and the only sounds he could hear were the distant echo of car horns and his own footsteps through the creaking snowdrifts. *** Once inside the flat, Jeon closed the door and leaned the back of his head against it, shaking from the cold. The snowflakes that had sucked on his hood were lazily melting. Taking off his shoes and down jacket, Jeon threw his bag on the floor and, pulling his swim trunks out of there, quickly made his way to the bathroom. After washing them and hanging them on the drying rack, he dashed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The chill that had gripped his body was gradually receding. Putting the kettle and a small pot of water on the cooker, he rummaged through the cupboard and pulled out a packet of spicy cheese noodles. Jeon sat on a chair and stared blankly at the empty flat while he waited for the water to boil. He moved here three months ago. At first he lived in a dormitory, but after a conflict with an annoying neighbour that got him evicted, Jeon decided to look for a studio flat. He hadn’t lived with his mother in three years, and although she often called him, Jeon never picked up the phone. He could barely afford the monthly rent, but it was better than having to take a beating and listen to other people’s tantrums. The whistle of a kettle and boiling water interrupted his musings. After the noodles were ready, Jungkook took the pot off the heat and filled one plate, putting the rest back on the cooker. Making tea, he sat down at the table and stared expectantly at the trickle of steam coming from the portion. Picking up a single strip of flavoured noodles with his chopsticks, Jungkook swallowed it and let out a long satisfied sigh. The warm broth filled his stomach, and for a moment, all was well in the world. After finishing his late dinner, Jungkook went to his room and sat down at his desk after shaking his textbooks out of his backpack. He only had one more presentation to finish for tomorrow’s class, with a whole night ahead of him. Even though Jeon’s eyes were drooping, he switched on his laptop and glanced out the window that looked out onto the open landing. Across from him stood the exact same building. The layout of the apartment buildings in this neighbourhood was the same, so any hapless newcomer could easily get lost here. Sometimes Jungkook felt like he was living in a large anthill. His gaze flickered back to the window that was directly across from him. Jeon breathed out a sigh of relief when he found no one there. The lights were off, the room was empty. Four weeks ago, he was going to his pairs as usual. Tucking the notebooks lying on the desk into his bag, Jeon involuntarily looked up and stunned. Two male bodies, stuck to each other as if someone had forcibly duct taped them together, were having sex right on the windowsill. Jungkook felt ashamed when he saw them. His eyesight was good, so it was impossible for him not to see what they were doing. Hoping that this wouldn’t happen again and that these guys would at least move into the room, Jeon left for his classes. But it happened again. Every week, almost every day! He even had to order some curtains for his room, since these guys wouldn’t give him his own, but there was a problem with the delivery, and Jeon got neither the curtains nor the money back. The salesmen quickly bribed him that they would send him two pairs of curtains as compensation. Well. It was a bargain. For the fourth week, however, Jungkook returned home expecting to see the box on his doorstep, but it was no use. The strangers continued to try out every corner of his flat, and Jeon continued to suffer as his gaze, previously preoccupied with his studies, reluctantly fell upon them. He wasn’t a bloody voyeur. It just happened to be that way. Apparently no one was home today, so he was immediately relieved to realise that he would be able to work in peace. Concentrating on the presentation for the next class, Jungkook didn’t notice the clock hand crossing the ten mark. Massaging his buzzing eyelids, he made a few more notes in his notebook and flinched when a message arrived on his phone. Yoongi: I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, don’t oversleep. With a hum, he quickly said goodnight to his friend and rose from his chair, kneading his stiff shoulders. Tearing his gaze away from the extinguished laptop screen, Jeon directed it to the window and cooled down in the same second. The two young bodies on the windowsill, seeming even paler in the moonlight, were fucking again, grabbing each other’s hair sharply and animal-like. Naked and sweat-damp thighs collided with each other, precisely sending wet, sharp slaps across the dark room. Curved backs, neat shoulder blades with reddening nail marks. Jungkook exhaled irritably, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Oh shit.” It was a good thing he’d already finished his presentation, or he’d have to watch two guys shamelessly mating for a few more hours. In any case, it was clear to even a fool that they were aware that their entire sex act was perfectly visible. Fetish? Jungkook felt his face flush with embarrassment and anger, and he turned away from the window, heading for the bed. He definitely didn’t feel like looking at them. Covering himself with a blanket, Jeon padded himself with soft pillows and stuck to his phone for a few minutes, browsing his social media feed. When the silence that filled the flat woke him up, he put the phone away and closed his eyes, feeling the fatigue that had accumulated during the day gradually leave his body. The movement in the window across the street stopped. Jungkook, who had already fallen into sleep, didn’t notice the two figures turning their heads towards his room. Their heated laboured breathing mingled, smirks sliding across their flushed and slightly swollen lips. Kissing and caressing each other, their dark gazes still remained fixed on the window where Jungkook had recently disappeared. Their faces, half covered by shadows, reflected a mixture of a strange lingering anticipation.