Chapter Text
“ Shit. ”
Jimin ran through the hallways as if he was being followed by a horde of demons that wanted to eat his soul. Well, in some way he was, by the demons of his past bad decisions and poor self control. Why did he have to stay at Jungkook’s dorm when he knew that he wouldn’t make it to his own dorm, grab his books and then being in class on time? Of course his past-self had been too comfortable in his boyfriend’s arms and bed, so he had decided that it was a problem for the future. That’s why he was running for his life, begging to every deity that Mr. Min, his History teacher, was as late as him.
He sighed in relief, almost collapsing on the floor, when he opened the class door only to see the sleepy faces of his classmates and the lump that was his best friend dozing on one of the front row desks.
“You’re late,” mumbled Taehyung without raising his head, groaning when Jimin’s elbow accidently connected with his side while he took his usual seat beside him.
Jimin passed a hand through his hair, trying to calm his breathing and his heartbeat. “I thought I was not going to make it.”
“You’re lucky that Mr. Min is not a morning person. Even less than you.”
“Hey! I’ve been up since 7am, thank you very much.” Scowled Jimin, offended.
Taehyung peered at him from under his fringe, “why are you late, then?”
“I had an...emergency,” he cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks aflame and not because of his brief but intense race.
“Does that emergency involve your boyfriend’s dick?”
“...no?” Tae raised one of his eyebrows, obviously not believing a single word that his friend had just said. “Okay, you got me.” Jimin sighed not even a second later. “I slept at Kookie’s last night and had to run to make it on time. Happy?”
Tae nodded before stretching like a cat. “Very.” He said with a satisfied sigh, slumping on his seat once he finished. “That’s what happens when you leave your soulmate behind, trapped in the single life while you enjoy yourself with your hot ass boyfriend.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “If you had the balls to ask Wheein out, you wouldn’t be suffering so much.”
“I tried!” Tae whined.
“Inviting her for a study session is not the same as asking her out. And ,” Jimin held his finger up to stop his friend from excusing himself again, “I don’t care what Jungkook said to you, looking at her from afar until she realizes you like her it’s not an effective strategy. It didn’t work with me, despite what he says, and it won’t work for you.”
Tae groaned, letting his head fall on the desk with a little more force than necessary. “I’m gonna die alone.”
Jimin tried to muffle his chuckle behind his hand, always finding funny how dramatic his best friend was. “There, there.” He said as he patted Tae’s head. “We already talked about this. Once you realize that you’re as worthy as her, you’ll find your guts and say those simple words.”
“Don’t say it,” whined Tae, trying to cover his ears with both hands.
“Would you,” began Jimin with a teasing smile, “Jung Whee In, apple of my eye...”
“Oh God.”
“...possible love of my life...”
“Please, stop.”
“...the person who would wait for me at the altar…” Jimin almost stopped when Tae tried to cover his mouth. “...would you make me the great honor of going out wit—- Tae stop! ” The hand under his armpit tickled him relentlessly, making him giggle like crazy and twist on his seat. “ Please, please, I’ll stop! I’ll stop! ”
“That’s better. Especially because you’re all sweaty and smell.” He wiped his hand on the other’s shirt with a disgusted expression.
“Yah! Respect or get decked.”
“Pfff. You’ll need a small chair to reach my gorgeous face.”
“Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.”
Tae rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how you have a boyfriend. That’s the geekiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Said a voice beside them, making them both jump in surprise at the unexpected presence.
Jimin lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw who it was. “Kookie!” He jumped from his seat so he could latch onto his boyfriend like a koala, his legs around his waist and everything, happy to see him even though they had been together not even an hour ago. “What are you doing here?” He said against his neck, humming in contentment when those strong arms held him as if he weighed nothing, rocking him from side to side.
“You forgot your notes on my dorm and I thought you might need them.”
“Best boyfriend ever,” he said before eagerly kissing him on the lips.
“Ugh, people are single, you know?”
Jungkook chuckled, breaking the kiss much to Jimin’s distaste, so he could look at a sulking Tae. “I’m sorry, hyung. I couldn’t help myself.”
Tae rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his smile when those doe eyes looked at him. Jeon Jungkook may looked like a wet dream with those strong muscles and handsome face, but his attitude always screamed baby bunny and that’s why he allowed him to date Jimin a.k.a his best friend a.k.a his soulmate. “Keep your hands to yourself while I’m around and we will be good.” The younger’s salute made him chuckle, as well as his friend’s pout when his boyfriend left him on the floor. “What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn’t you be at Literature like,” he looked at his phone, “right now?”
Jungkook got closer to him, looking around as if he was about to say the juiciest gossip. “Mr. Jung is late.”
Jimin widened his eyes in surprise. “Mr. Jung? Late?” Jungkook nodded at him. “That never happened before. He’s always like an hour early for office hours in case we have questions.”
“I know!” Tae chimed. “That was one of the things I liked about taking that class with him. I swear he’s always happy even at 7 freaking am. I was a zombie while he looked like a model straight out from Hot Professors Magazine .”
Jungkook chuckled under his breath, leaving a kiss on the top of Jimin’s head when the smaller man nuzzled his chest like a kitten. “Wait.” He sent Tae a questioning look. “Mr. Min isn’t here either.”
Tae widened his eyes and looked around, a hand on his chest. “Oh my God, Kookie. You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t notice such an important and obvious fact.” Tae said, sarcastically, then having to avoid a foot trying to hit him on the sheen. “He’s usually a few minutes late because he can’t, and I quote, ‘ talk about dead people if I wanna join them in the afterlife to avoid my 8 am lectures ’ or, in other words, he just needs his coffee first.”
“That guy’s such a mood.” Said Jimin with his eyes closed, head on Jungkook’s wide chest. The tiredness of waking up early and running all the way through campus finally catching up on him. A few seconds longer and he swore he could fall asleep on his feet. “But he should be here already. Maybe they had a meeting with other professors?” He felt his boyfriend shrug against him.
“Who knows. I just hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Worried about your crush?” Jimin teased, earning himself a pinch on the side.
“Crush?” Tae looked at them curiously. “Whose crush?”
“Kookie likes Mr. Ju--” He was cut off in the middle of a sentence when a big hand covered his mouth (and almost his whole face) making him giggle like crazy at his boyfriend’s antics and reddened cheeks.
“Nothing!”
Of course Taehyung was not an idiot, even though some people mistaken his innocent demeanour and passion for aegyo as a sign of his lack of intelligence, and quickly realized what his best friend had tried to say. “Oh my God,” he said with wide eyes, lips slightly parted in disbelief. “You like Mr. Jung ?” He basically screamed then letting such a loud laugh that a boy three rows behind woke up with a start.
Jungkook immediately shook his head and looked around in case someone had heard, his distraction giving Jimin an opportunity to take the hand off his mouth. “He’s his hall pass!”
“ Jimin! ” Jungkook gaped at him as if he had just murdered a loved one. “That was between us!”
“Aww baby.” He bit his lip, trying to school his face back into a neutral expression, but the sight of Taehyung falling to the floor with teary eyes made it too difficult. “It’s cute! And, besides, we both know that will never happen.”
“I’m not a minor anymore!” Jungkook whined, effectively looking like a kid with his pout and arms still around his boyfriend as if he was hugging a teddy bear.
“Oh Jesus.” Taehyung wiped his tears, hugging his mid side with one arm. “You think the age gap is the only reason why your romance is not possible?” He exchanged a look with Jimin, both then cracking up once again.
“I know that’s not the only reason!” Jungkook tried to argue over their laughter. “But-- Stop it! But I could stand a chance if he weren’t my professor!”
“Ah, my tummy. It hurts .” Tae said from where he was kneeling. “It really hurts.”
“So I suggest you to go to the infirmary, Mr. Kim. Please get off the floor.” The trio jumped in surprise when the gruff voice of Min Yoongi resounded over the still awaking class. Quickly sobering up at the presence of one of the most strict professors on their University. “And Mr. Jeon, I believe your class is down the hall.” Mr. Min continued, nodding to the door without even sparing them another look.
They silently watched how the blonde man strode over to his desk while taking a long sip from his polystyrene cup as if it was the only thing that was keeping him alive. The whole class internally sighing in relief at the sight. Min Yoongi was already a scary individual in the mornings, add the lack of coffee and the combination could be fatal.
Said man left his leather briefcase and a paper bag on the wooden desk before turning to the class, raising an eyebrow when he saw Jungkook.“Still here, Mr. Jeon?”
Jungkook cleared his throat, taking his hand off Jimin’s waist as if he was on fire. “Sorry, sir.” He said, bowing at the professor. “Good morning,” he walked to the door, still bowing profusely.
“I don’t have all day, Mr. Jeon.” Even though his words sounded final, Mr. Min couldn’t hide his amusement.
“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. Good morning, sir. Goodbye, sir.”
“ Mr. Jeon .”
Jungkook made a final bow, almost hitting his head when he quickly closed the door.
Mr. Min sighed, cleaning his glasses with his sweater before placing them on his nose. “Okay, then. Let’s begin, shall we? I believe we were in the middle of figuring out why Comte was one of Sociology’s fathers and a big narcissist.” The class laughed, always loving how Mr. Min couldn’t contain his tongue in the mornings. “So, Comte had a very particular definition of society.” He continued after taking another sip of his coffee. “First, let’s take on account that we’re talking about the 1800’s. Saying that, of course, for him the male population was the main component of society. White male population to be exact. I know, I know.” He raised his hand at the few complaining sounds. “We’re all thinking the same. What a dick .” The class chuckled at his words. “But think about the context, please. Never underestimate the context. He was born at the end of the French Revolution. The moment was a total ch--” A knock on the door made him groan tiredly in the middle of his sentence, making the whole class contain their breath, waiting for him to lash out. One thing Mr. Min aborreced more than early mornings was being interrupted while he was giving a class. “Come in,” he said in a tight voice, clenched jaw. But his demeanour changed in an instant, visibly perking up at the sight of the newcomer.
Everybody was expecting a fidgeting student arriving late, or a blushing assistant with an important message for the quite intimidating professor. What they weren’t expecting was the cheerful handsome man with a heart shaped smile and cute dimples.
“Hello! I’m sorry to interrupt!” The man slightly bowed to the whole class. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Mr Jung!” The class happily answered (accompanied by a few swoons).
Mr. Jung Hoseok had been their first year’s Literature teacher, one of the mandatory subjects that everyone would have taken even if it wasn’t required to pass the year. It was a tricky subject, but with the professor’s dedication and passion the year always passed flying.
“I’m so sorry.” Mr. Jung rushed to the blond professor’s side, showing a paper bag in his hand, similar to the one on the desk. “You have mine, honey. I don’t like blueberry. ” He said then, exchanging both bags, ignoring the murmur that had started with the pet name. “I need to get to class. See you at lunch, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, Mr. Jung lightly pecked Mr. Min’s slack lips and got out of the classroom as fast as he had arrived, unaware of the whole class in silent astonishment.
Jimin’s eyes went back and forth between the door and a slack-jawed Mr. Min, trying to make sense of what he just saw. “Did you--,” he began asking Tae who was petrified in his spot.
“Yeah.”
“Did he--?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I...Am I dreaming ?”
“They do say dreams are a manifestation of our fears and desires.” Tae murmured almost to himself, gaze still trained on the bright blush adorning Mr. Min’s usual pale face. “I guess this enters in both categories.”
Yoongi closed his eyes tiredly, his back leaning against one of the elevator’s mirrored walls. He didn’t have to look at his reflection to know what he would see. The bags under his eyes, the mark on the bridge of his nose left by his glasses, the dry lips from talking too much and not drinking enough water, his hair in disarray and tie crooked. In a few words, a disaster.
The elevator dinged, announcing he had arrived to the twelfth floor.
With heavy steps, he walked to his apartment’s door, dragging his suitcase and coat all over the carpeted corridor. Hoseok would probably nag at him for being too careless with his clothes, but he frankly didn’t have the energy to care.
A light chuckle fell from his lips once he turned the corner, keys already in hand. “Hi Holly,” he said to the closed door, the tiny barks muffled by it. “Did you miss Daddy?” Yoongi cooed. The small dog jumped him the moment he entered the apartment, over excited to have him finally at home. He beamed when the pup licked him once he bend to take his shoes off, half heartedly using his hand as a shield when he got too close to his mouth. “Okay, I know, I know. I’m happy to see you too.” With careful hands, he lifted the door, always afraid of holding him too tight and breaking a fragile bone or something. Hoseok always made fun of that fear, saying that he felt the same way every time he hugged Yoongi. The sap . “Oh, please, don’t mind me.” Yoongi said to his other dog, Mickey, who was calmly snoozing on one of the couches on the living room. The dog opened one of his eyes and lazily waved his tail at him in greeting, but showed no sign of moving from his spot. “I’m sorry, your Majesty, for waking you up from your peaceful slumber.” Yoongi said in a ridiculous British tone, petting the dog and leaving his brother beside him.
The professor smiled at the cute image, Holly licking Mickey’s ear while he continued sleeping as if the outside world didn’t exist. Hoseok and him had been worried when they had decided to live together, not only because of what that meant for their relationship, but because of their dogs sharing the same territory. They had always heard how difficult it was for adult dogs to get on when they hadn’t been raised together. They were prepared for fights, maybe having to assign different parts of their new tiny (but stylish) apartment for each one of them, spend a lot of money on trainers; what they never expected was for them to sniff each other, wave their tails and then take a nap together. As if they were long lost friends.
Yoongi tiredly went up the stairs, opening the dog gate that kept the little rascals out of the bedroom while they were out, throwing his tie carelessly on the floor. With a sigh he laid down on the unmade bed, looking at the digital clock on his bedside table and sighing again when he saw the blank screen. There had been a blackout on the street during the night, since they had gone to bed until way after they had woken up in a rush, realizing that their phones were dead instead of charging and, consequently, making them late.
Yoongi hated mornings, even more when he had to hurry up without being able to even have his coffee or morning snuggles. Especially on Fridays, his busiest day of the week and also when his energy was almost completely drained out. Without having to look at his cellphone, he knew it was already nine pm, which marked almost thirteen hours of him being out of the house and interacting with people. His feet throbbed, his eyes hurt, his head kept working at a high speed even though he was exhausted as fuck.
He didn’t know when he closed his eyes or when he began to doze off, but suddenly he was woken up by the living room light and Holly’s bark from downstairs.
“I’m hoooome.” Hoseok said from the front door, laughing like a maniac, probably receiving the same treatment as Yoongi when he had arrived. “Hi, babyyy. My baby Hollyyy,” Hoseok singsonged. “Where’s Daddy? Where’s Daddy? Good boy!” Yoongi smiled to himself, visualizing the kissy faces his husband was doing to the happy poodle. “Mickey-aaah, were you having a little nap? Mmm? Would I find Daddy doing the same upstairs?”
Yoongi snorted, moving to the side and making himself as small as possible, even though his slacks weren’t the ideal clothing for such a thing and felt like they were trying to strangle his midsection. Padded steps could be heard going up the stairs, the dog gate opening once again and an annoyed huff (probably because he left his clothes on the floor again ). He decided to keep his back towards the other man as long as he could, knowing that it will get him extra cuddles and kisses later.
“Hi, babe~~” Yoongi didn't even twitch, staying still even when the bed dipped behind him. Vanilla scent filled his nostrils when the man hovered over him, a pair of lips leaving little kisses over his jaw and tickling him in the process. “Wakey wakey.”
“No.” Yoongi whined when Hoseok tried to lift the hand that was shielding his eyes from the unforgiving light.
“I know you’re tired, but you have to eat and change your clothes, babe.”
“Don’t babe me, you traitor.” Yoongi mumbled, fighting a little bit against the kissing monster his husband had become. “Today was the worst day ever, mostly thanks to you.”
“Awww.” Hoseok cooed, deciding to cease his attack so he could lie behind him and close his arms around his waist. “I already apologized. Remember? Over lunch at your office?”
“A quickie that earned me a mustard stain on my shirt is not an apology.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, you weren’t the one getting the apology, wasn’t it?”
Hoseok chuckled in his ear, always loving how the stern professor could become a whiny brat in his arms. Treasuring those moments when he could see the armour coming down in front of his eyes on its own accord, as if Hoseok’s only presence was a sign that Yoongi was in his safe space. “Hey,” he said after a while, “how was your day?”
“Terrible.”
Hoseok winced. “That bad, uh?” Yoongi turned in his arms, hiding his face on his husband’s chest. Hoseok just tucked his cheek against the top of the blond head and sighed, a hand brushing the bleached strands. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said in a gentle tone.
It was a habit of theirs, sharing what happened during their days while being horizontal. Sometimes, they were too tired to do it, the weight of their schedules and responsibilities getting in the way. But in some way or another they always ended like this, sharing that weight with each other until they felt light again.
“Finals season’s coming, that’s all.”
Hoseok tsks. “That’s not what’s bothering you and you know it.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Yoongi,” Hoseok sighed.
“I’m just tired. Let’s eat something.” Yoongi tried to sit back up and leave the bed, but his husband’s arms around his waist stopped him in his attempt. Hoseok incorporated himself so they would both be sitting in the middle of the bed.
“Yoongi, hey, look at me.” Hoseok gently grabbed his chin to make eye contact with him. “Come on,” he insisted when Yoongi kept his eyes down, “let me see those shining orbs.”
“Stop sounding like one of your poems.”
“But you love it.”
“No, I don’t.”
It was a lie and the both knew it.
In fact, that’s how they had met all those years ago.
Yoongi had been fairly new at the time, almost a year teaching History to skittish students still trying to learn the ropes on their first year of college. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a start. A way of putting into work the major that had cost him so many sleepless nights and huge chunks of his humble bank account.
He wasn’t ashamed to say that he had been relieved when the dean informed them about the new addition to their staff. The new professor of Literature, a certain Jung Hoseok.
Yoongi was expecting the typical 50-ish year old man with big round glasses, as big as his belly, who liked to speak in a posh manner about dead authors with unpronounceable names and stories with one dimensional female characters. What he wasn’t expecting was the beautiful young man, one year younger than him, with the cheerful voice that became deeper the moment he recited poetry. Or the warm gaze that trained on him every time he entered the professor’s lounge. Or the soft hands that had showed him how pleasure and tenderness could coexist. The same elegant fingers that were currently playing with his alliance while he tried to gather his thoughts.
“Don’t get mad.” He finally said after a while, making eye contact with Hoseok from under his lashes.
Hoseok frowned, slightly tightening his hold on Yoongi’s pale hands. “I could never get mad with you. Ever,” he said with conviction.
Yoongi smiled, knowing that his husband was speaking the truth. “I just…,” he stopped, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know how I feel about everyone knowing that we’re together. There’s this contradiction inside me, I’m divided between feeling relieved that everyone knows. And maybe, maybe ,” he clarified, “a little bit happy that they’ll stop hitting on you all the freaking time .” Hoseok snorted, dismissing the idea of people flirting with him as it didn’t happen every time he entered a room. It wasn’t fake humility, he truly didn’t know how powerful his looks and good-natured demeanor were.
“Stop it,” Yoongi lightly punched him on the chest, “You know I’m right.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Hoseok kissed his forehead in apology, returning to gaze at him with that dotting expression Yoongi loved so much. “I’ll shut up.”
Yoongi gave him a warning look but then decided to let it slide, leaving his husband’s insecurities for another deep conversation.
“I want everyone to know, Hobi, I really do. Being your husband is one of the best things that ever happened to me and I don’t want you to feel like a dirty secret.”
Hoseok furrowed his brows. “Yoongi, I don’t feel that way.”
Yoongi shook his head. “It was one thing when we were fooling around, barely newcomers that didn’t know if they were truly in love or just wanting to get off. We’re married now. Our contracts renewed and the Council finally accepted that we’re together and that their homophobic wrinkled hands can’t do anything about it without a raising scandal on their backs. There’s no excuse for me to feel this way.”
“It’s not an excuse, babe. It’s how you feel.”
“But I don’t know why I care so much about how everyone would react.” He threw up his hands in frustration. “It shouldn’t matter! It didn’t matter to me when we showed those dickheads our marriage certificate. In fact, I felt so powerful that I had to kiss you right in front of their corrugated faces!”
Hoseok blushed at the memory. “Not our biggest fans after that.”
Yoongi ignored his comment and kept going. “The thing is, I don’t know why I suddenly feel so inhibited. Like...like I’m disappointing someone.” He turned his anxious gaze towards his husband. “But I’m proud of us. I swear.”
Hoseok gently smiled at him, brushing a strand out of his forehead to press a lingering kiss against it. “You don’t have to convince me. Or anyone. I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters.”
“But--”
“Listen.” Hoseok pulled away, his serious face a clear sign that he meant business. “We did a huge journey together, love. Not only to fight for our relationship but also to accept ourselves. You show me everyday how much you love me and what this relationship means to you, the fact that you feel the way you feel doesn’t automatically erase it all. But you keep talking about them and it’s not the Council or our colleagues, God knows you had shown them how little you care about their opinions.” Yoongi smirked at him, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Is this about someone in particular?” Hoseok’s face hardened. “Did someone bother you? You know you just have to say the word and I--”
Yoongi stopped his rambling with a peck against his mouth. “Shh, Hobi. No one said anything to me. You know I would tell you otherwise.” He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip, his eyes downwards. Hoseok reached out and gently tugged the abused lip, before smoothing it out with his thumb. “I think…,” Yoongi continued, finding himself warming up at the adoring look his husband sent him. “I think I’m worried about the students.”
Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I know the new generations are more accepting, I know that. And maybe this sudden fear is unfounded, but the mere idea of any of them saying anything crass about us or thinking less of me as a professor...it hurts me.”
“Oh, babe…”
“I love this job, Hobi. You know how wonderful it feels when a student shows interest on the subject, when they’re enjoying themselves, when they arrive to a smart conclusion that leaves you proud of them and yourself. The Council doesn’t take my classes, I don’t see them everyday or even work overtime for their sake. I don’t give a shit about them. But the kids...that’s a different story.”
Yoongi felt himself deflate like a balloon, as if an imaginary weight had finally left his shoulders.
“Yoongi, hey.” Hoseok held him against his chest when he saw his downcast expression, a hand going up and down his back in a soothing manner. “I know how important they’re for you because I feel the same, and I’m so sorry you feel this way. I wish I could tell you that they won’t do what you said, but we both know that people can surprise you. Ironically, prejudice doesn’t discriminate and age is not a good judge of character. But I can assure you one thing.” He said against his blonde hair. “I’m never, ever leaving your side. And that’s a promise.”
They remained tangled for a long time, the clock still dead so it was impossible to say if it had been hours or minutes. Chests close until their heartbeats became one, beating in synch, so familiar to each other because of all the times they had fallen asleep listening to it.
Right there, in each other’s arms, nothing mattered. Nothing hurt.
Only them and their love. Untouchable. Invincible.
Because, as long as they were together, they were home.