Chapter Text
To be honest, Wolf had every chance to avoid this situation if he had read at least one romantic manhwa (not even necessarily BL, any romance would have done). It wouldn't even have been necessary to read the whole thing, the first couple of chapters where the main characters usually appeared would have been enough. And even though he hadn’t read anything like that, he could still understand that something was wrong if the night before he hadn’t drunk more than could be considered appropriate for any person, not to mention a young growing body. In short, Wolf hadn’t read any manhwa and he had a hangover, so when he was sitting at the bus stop opposite the cram school and counting to three, he wasn't at all surprised by the fact that some flowers suddenly appeared around the White Mamba, surrounding him like a halo. He only thought that, apparently, they needed to find a new bar, because in their usual one, it seemed, the staff started to mix the alcohol with some crappy shit.
...
The next sign that something was clearly wrong were his own words, spoken to the White Mamba on the rooftop. 'Pretty boys like you'? Seriously? Never in his life had Wolf said such saccharine nonsense to anyone. Not even in an offensive context. In fact, he even managed to think 'What the hell was that?' or something like, but the situation was not good to long selfreflection, so the thought came and went.
...
The third sign went completely unnoticed.
Wolf had just come to his senses. He was lying on the roof, his ears were ringing, his head was splitting, so the lonely, unexpected ba-dump that happened while he was saying the famous 'What a funny bastard' was not registered by either Wolf's consciousness or subconsciousness.
...
To sum it all up: the Universe had been giving Wolf signs that it intended to change the genre, but he hadn't understood them. Well, bad for him, since the Universe rarely takes such small factors into account and even more rarely abandons its plans.