Change Your Sexual Orientation [ FirstKhaotung ]

Chapter 4

In a whole math class, First's mouth never stopped. Either he was cursing Khaotung , or he pushed his elbow and said that he had crossed the line, until a chalk hit his desk hard.

“First! What are you muttering about over there!” Sani wasn’t in a good mood; She had been feeling worried ever since she stepped into the classroom and spotted First’s constantly sullen face. After the classes were reshuffled, every homeroom teacher had prayed not to have First assigned to their class. Since she was First’s homeroom teacher in his first year, Sani had assumed that she wouldn’t be so unfortunate, First couldn’t possibly be shuffled into her class again.

However, reality proved that the probability of this happening was higher than winning the lottery.

It only took one period for Sani to be completely drained. It was impossible for her to move her focus away from First; While she stood at the lectern teaching for fifty minutes, First sat at the back muttering for fifty minutes. His expression was grim, if those dark eyes of his had the ability of speech, then they would be able to utter a whole lot of dirty words right now. On the other hand, Khaotung sat next to him for the whole period, quiet and unmoving.

In comparison, they were like a gif and a jpg.

Once the class finally ended and Sani stepped out of the classroom, First snatched away the math book in front of Khaotung, “Are you fucking crazy? Why did you pick the science stream!”

Khaotung took in First’s annoyance and calmly replied: “To challenge myself.”

“You want to die again?”

“It’s not too bad.” Khaotung glanced at the grumpy First, his forehead still carried the “mark of victory” left behind from his previous fight. Khaotung took out a physics practice book from his drawer and placed it on the desk, saying coolly: “Even you are still alive, so I can’t die.”

First abruptly stood up from his seat, the action causing the books and papers in his bag to scatter onto the floor, but he wasn’t in the mood to pick them up. Raising a fist, he kept it in the air for a few moments, but didn’t punch. Khaotung had such soft and tender skin, even if he only touched him, he would definitely bruise for a few days. What more a punch, if something really happened, wouldn’t he be blamed for the rest of his life?

After some thought, First picked up the chalk on the desk and drew a line between the two of them.

“Stay the hell away from me and don’t let me see your damn face! Also!” He pointed at the line on the desk, frowning and huffing: “If your arm dares to cross this line, I’ll chop you up and feed you to the dogs!”

Khaotung merely looked down at the practice books scattered across the ground, a few pink envelopes were wedged between the pages, and they were very eye-catching. He glanced over and grinned at First: “Your love letters have fallen out.” He paused, then continued: “Do you like collecting stamps?”

Glancing down, First crouched and gathered the envelopes before lifting his head to meet Khaotung's condescending smile: “None of your damn business.”

From then on, First never looked at the blackboard during class. He stared attentively at Khaotung’s elbow, as if afraid it would cross the line. As long as Khaotung ventured even slightly over the line, First immediately adopted a stance as if he were prepared for war.

Earth could no longer tolerate First’s furtive behaviour at the last row. He loudly coughed a few times, calling out: “First.”

Too engrossed in monitoring Khaotung’s elbow, First was completely unaware that everyone in the class had twisted around to stare at him. Khaotung turned to him, but before he could say anything, First beat him to it: “Who let you turn your damn head, turn it back!”