Archive of Our Own ^beta

The piece on the wall before Taehyung has to be his favorite. The way the waves crash over each other before peacefully settling onto the shore, it all just seems cohesive. Taehyung likes that. He likes cohesive. Orderly. That’s how he’d describe his life right now. Orderly. He’s a day away from classes starting, two semesters away from being done with university, and after that he’ll be on his way to a real life job. Everything has its place in his life. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. 

That’s how this painting makes him feel. The water is perfectly placed where it should be and the waves are perfectly laid out on the shore’s edge. It has order.

It’s not at all like the painting next to it.

The artwork is a million different lines, all going in different directions. Some overlap while some are smaller lines that never seem to touch anything. Why can’t the overlapping lines be like those lines? Why can’t they just be orderly? They flow off the canvas as if the artist created the piece in a rush, as if they were trying to finish to meet their deadline. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong, but it’s just… not Taehyung’s cup of tea. If the lines would just go where they’re supposed to, he’d like it a lot more. Frankly, it gives him a headache looking at it. 

He stands between the two paintings, looking at them back and forth, trying to find something about the line work that he likes. He stays like this for a few minutes before his thoughts are (rudely) interrupted by a voice behind him. 

“You know, those pieces are drastically different. You’re never going to find similarities staring at them.”

Okay, who the hell is this guy?

Taehyung whips his head around to yell at whoever just interrupted his peaceful thinking. Yet, when he turns around, all he sees is a guy, about as tall as he is, dressed in a seafoam green sweater with circle glasses and his hair pushed back in an almost too perfect way. Taehyung can’t help but stare. He looks him up and down, not realizing it appears as if he’s checking him out. He quickly glances back to the strangers eyes, opening his mouth to speak but the stranger does first.

“You see,” he points to the two paintings, turning Taehyung’s attention to them once again. “This one is free. The waves crashing over one another before coming to the shore, it shows freedom. They have the ability to go anywhere they want, whether it be back to the ocean or to the shore. And this,” he looks to the line work canvas, “it showcases restraint. The lines can only ever go where they’ve been placed. Only forwards or backwards, never side to side.”

Taehyung digests the strangers words, trying to understand where the hell he got such a meaning. “Actually,” the boy retorts. “I think the waves show order and consistency. They’re exactly where they’re supposed to be. If the waves were meant to go back to the ocean, they’d be there. Whereas, the lines show chaos. They’ve been placed wherever the artist felt like they should place them in the moment. They don’t all fit in one place. Some are long, some are short, some are just barely there. That’s chaos. Not restraint.”

The boy in the glasses raises his eyebrows, smirking while he lets out a small laugh at Taehyung’s answer. “I see someone has an interest in art.”

“Why else would I be here? In an art museum?”

“Could’ve been a class assignment,” the stranger lifts his shoulders in an ‘who knows’ stance. 

“Mister, I can assure you, I’m far past the age of having a teacher send me on field trips.” And, that’s true. Taehyung had not been sent out to museums or art shows since his freshman year of college. His professors, by now, assume that if their students are serious about art, they will go out and find it themselves, which is true of Taehyung. He constantly finds himself exploring the cities nearest him, looking for new exhibits or museums that he can visit. Like he said, why else would he be in an art museum if he didn’t enjoy the art?

“Forgive me, I guess I misspoke,” the boy answers politely.

Taehyung wants to walk away and pretend this conversation never happened but for some reason, he just can’t quite leave yet. “Looks like it.”

“You always this fired up about art?”

“You’re not?” he challenges.

The boy raises his hands in defense, letting out a small laugh. “Fair point,” he searches for a name but comes up empty handed. “Sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t,” Taehyung answers too quickly, not realizing how bold he just was. “But, it’s Taehyung.”

“Taehyung,” the boy in the glasses repeats. “It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung-ssi. I’m Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you, as well, Namjoon-ssi.”

There’s a small awkward silence that falls over the two. Taehyung rocks back and forth on his heel, looking for the next words to say. Thankfully, Namjoon speaks for him. 

“Would it be alright if I join you on your walkthrough? It’s always nice to hear second opinions on the meaning of artwork.”

Taehyung softly glares at the boy, tilting his head in thought. He looks at him up and down, allowing Namjoon to prepare for the ‘no, I’m okay, thanks’ that he expects will come from the boy’s mouth. Yet, after a few seconds more, Taehyung willingly nods, motioning the boy to follow behind him. Namjoon can’t help but show off his bright smile, a smile that Taehyung finds oddly charming.

After passing by a few sculptures, which the two surprisingly had similar views on, they come to more paintings hanging on the wall. Taehyung stops, staring at the geometric painting. There are shapes of many different sizes, styles, and colors. Some are striped while some are dotted. Some are a bright neon green while others are a dark navy. The contrast hurts the boys eyes to look at, but oddly enough, he can’t look away. With his head tilted, he examines the piece, trying to find out what it means to him. Yet, once again, here comes something to interrupt his thoughts.

“What d’you think?”

“I think,” he emphasizes, turning to face Namjoon. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

“What did I do?” Oh, god, his doe-eyes are incredibly endearing. He looks like a lost puppy.

“I was mid-thought! And, you! You just came along and interrupted my thoughts… again!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Taehyung-ssi. I didn’t realize I was doing that. I’ll let you think!” 

Namjoon steps back, his hands raised in defense. Taehyung playfully glares at him, trying to refocus on the painting, but all he can focus on is the eyes on his back. He knows Namjoon is staring at him, waiting for him to be ready to discuss. Can this guy not just look at the artwork instead of Taehyung? Seriously, what is his problem?

He tilts his head again, examining the shapes from all different angles. Each angle gives him a new perspective, a new outlook. From the front view, it all looks disorderly and everything seems out of place. It reminds him of the line work painting, how nothing is where it should be. Yet, when he turns his head to the side, he sees it in a new light. The shapes create an entirely new piece. Suddenly, Taehyung is feeling pretty thankful for all those professors who constantly told him, ‘you always need to look at art from a new perspective and you might just find something incredible’. And, boy, were they right. This piece has to be his favorite so far, maybe even in the entire museum. He looks back to Namjoon, who quickly diverts his eyes to the painting as if he wasn’t just staring at Taehyung’s back.

“Now, you may ask your question.”

Namjoon laughs, taking a step forward to stand beside the boy. “What do you think of it?” he repeats his previous question.

“I think from this angle, it’s hideous. But, when I look at it,” he turns his head, his body slightly leaning with him, “from this angle, it’s a whole new picture.”
“And, do you like this new picture?” Namjoon asks, his head tilted with Taehyung’s. 

“I do. It’s cohesive. Everything just seems to fit.”

The boy in the glasses leans back up, standing upright. “You like that, don’t you?”

Taehyung follows suit, standing upright. “What?”

“Order. Cohesiveness. You like when art isn’t chaotic but just fits well together?”

“Yeah, I like art to imitate life. My life is quite orderly and if my art isn’t like that, well, I don’t really see a point.” Namjoon hums, trying to understand the boy’s perspective. “What? You don’t like order in art?”

“No, no, I do. I just think art needs a little bit of chaos every now and then. Don’t you think?”

“No.”

Namjoon laughs at his bluntness. “So, you’re telling me, everything in your life is orderly? There’s nothing chaotic about it that you’d want to see reflected in art?”

“Exactly,” he pats Namjoon’s upper arm. “Now you’re understanding, Namjoon-ssi.”

Taehyung walks off, leaving the boy momentarily stunned. How does he have absolutely zero chaos in his life? Meanwhile, as Taehyung walks away, all he can think about is how huge this boy’s biceps are. Seriously, he probably just touched an arm that people can only dream of touching. There’s no way Namjoon doesn’t have a significant other, in Taehyung’s mind. How can he not? He dresses nicely, has a good physique, seems somewhat intelligent, and likes art? Seems like a full package. When the hell is Taehyung going to find one that’s single?

After looking at a few more pieces hanging on the wall, Taehyung makes his way towards the 4D exhibit, the bright lights drawing him in. Once inside the dark room, he takes a step forward, his foot hitting a small platform. Using his foot, he feels around, searching for the top of it so he can step up. Once his foot hits the top of the platform, a million tiny blue, purple, and white lights illuminate the room. The walls are covered in mirrors, reflecting all of the lights back on him. Besides him and Namjoon, the room is empty. He walks around the platform, his eyes widening as he spins around to see the entirety of the exhibit. 

Even if it weren’t for the mirrors on the wall, Taehyung would know Namjoon was right behind him. How? He can feel his presence. Seriously, it’s like a huge shadow that’s just following him everywhere… but in a surprisingly good way? He turns around, facing the boy, who is just an inch or two taller than he is. His boxy smile is wide and momentarily, Namjoon is glad the room is filled with blue lights that can hide his rosy cheeks. Taehyung’s smile has to be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Okay, I think this one is my favorite,” he smiles, looking around. The lights hang on strings from the ceiling, almost reaching the platform below their feet but coming just a foot or two short. Probably so they don’t trigger the sensors hidden in it on accident. The mystery is all in letting people step onto the platform and illuminate the room on their own. 

“It looks like it’s your favorite, based off your smile,” Namjoon giggles. He GIGGLES. Taehyung is suddenly also really grateful for the blue lights that mask his flushed cheeks.

“Is it not yours?”

“Hm, I think I really liked the line work painting,” Namjoon smirks, earning him a jaw drop from Taehyung, to which he immediately bursts into laughter.

“There’s no way that chaotic piece of paint is your favorite. In this entire building? Seriously? There’s no way.”

“Woah, woah. Chaotic piece of paint? Someone worked hard on that!”

“Yeah, for maybe five minutes before painting a tiny line and then saying, well that seems like it’s enough, and then submitting it to be worth millions.”

Taehyung’s brazenness shocks Namjoon, causing him to break into more laughter. “What if that was your line work, Taehyung-ssi? How would you feel?”

“Impossible. My artwork is far better than that.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so he does do art. I’ve been trying to figure it out this whole time.”

“What? You thought I was just here and didn’t actually do art?”

“Hey, some of us just appreciate art.”

Taehyung tilts his head. “So, you’re saying you don’t create art pieces?”

“From time to time, yes. But, I do more appreciating and studying of it than I do actual creation.”

“Fair enough,” he playfully rolls his eyes. He turns back to the lights, his eyes catching Namjoon in the mirror watching him. 

He moves to the edge of the platform, stepping off of it. He looks to Namjoon, who’s still well lit by the lights, motioning him to join him. Seems as if Taehyung wants to retrigger the lights. The boy in the glasses follows direction, joining Taehyung off the platform. Once the room is completely dark, the fluffy haired boy jumps back onto the platform, this time, though, the lights are a bright pink with hints of red and orange. He can’t stop the small “woah” that escapes his lips as he admires the new set of colors. 

He walks through the lights, Namjoon very close behind him. Again, he steps off the platform and again, Namjoon follows. This time, when they step onto the platform, the room is lit up with greens, yellows, and small amounts of blue lights. Taehyung’s giggle echoes through the room and Namjoon can feel his heart aching. How could this boy be so adorable? 

“You enjoying yourself?” he speaks up, looking to the boxy-smiling boy.

“Mhm!” he nods enthusiastically. 

Namjoon steps closer to the boy. “Does this room have enough order and cohesiveness for you?”

“I think so! It changes colors, yes, but it all fits once even after the colors change. Nothing is out of place, not even one bulb,” he giggles.

The boy in glasses steps even closer. “You really don’t let any chaos into your life?”

Taehyung can feel how close Namjoon is. He’s really close. Like, really, really close. He shakes his head softly. His response is followed by Namjoon’s hand on his cheek. Taehyung really should move away. He just met this guy today. This is not what should be happening. Although, the lights are pretty and this is kind of romantic, isn’t it? 

“Not even the slightest bit of chaos? Not in artwork?...Things?...People?” His last question softer than the rest, Taehyung shaking his head slowly in response. “You should really consider it. Chaos can be fun sometimes.”

He’s too close. Taehyung, he’s too close. He’s really close. His lips are puckered. Taehyung. You really should step back.

Their lips collide. Namjoon’s other hand cups the boy’s face and Taehyung’s hands find Namjoon’s waist. The kiss is soft and gentle and neither wants to pull back. Namjoon’s hand finds its way to the back of Taehyung’s neck, softly pulling at the ends of his long hair. Even just the slightest tug pulls a gentle moan from the younger boy. Despite thinking he was quiet, Namjoon hears the sweet sound, smiling as he pulls back from the boy.

“Why’d you stop?” God, Taehyung’s pout has to be the most adorable thing Namjoon has ever seen.

“You know we’re in the middle of an art exhibit in a giant museum, right?”

Taehyung nods. “You weren’t complaining two seconds ago when you kissed me.”

“Oh, I kissed you, huh?”

“You most certainly did,” he retorts, his hands still resting on the boy's hips. “You leaned in and put your pouty lips right onto mine.”

“Oh, like this?” Namjoon asks, leaning in to kiss him again. Taehyung giggles, pushing away from him after a few seconds.

“Something like that,” he smiles, his mouth forming that boxy shape that Namjoon can’t get enough of. “This what you meant by chaos can be fun?”

Namjoon nods. “Something like that.”

He leans back in, kissing the boy once more. For two people who met just hours ago, they can’t keep their hands off one another. All it takes is minutes for Namjoon to have Taehyung pushed against the glass walls, the room now completely dark since they’ve stepped off the platform. With their vision practically gone in the dark room, their senses become heightened. Every touch feels like an electric spark running across their skin. Taehyung doesn’t want this to end, especially since Namjoon now has his lips pressed against his neck, leaving tiny little marks as he bites up and down. 

Mid-makeout session, the boys halt, hearing the door across the room open. Since the room is dark, at least for now, they immediately separate, trying to hide the fact that they were making out two seconds ago. Taehyung sends a tiny thank you to whoever was watching out for them because he’s 99% sure he was two seconds away from giving this not-so-stranger-anymore a blowjob. 

Thankfully, they separated themselves enough for the group of people walking in to not suspect a thing once the room is illuminated again. The two boys tell them how it’ll change colors if they step off it and step back on, which the group thanks them for. Without another word, the pair find the exit, leaving the 4D exhibit behind. 

Their laughter fills the sculpture room that they enter into, which happened to be the only room with zero people in it. “That was risky,” Taehyung says, running his hands through his hair.

“So, you wouldn’t do it again?” he moves closer.

“I didn’t say that,” he smiles, playfully shoving at Namjoon who smirks at him.

“Then why don’t we?” he asks. Taehyung tilts his head in confusion. How can they do it again when people are in the room? “I mean, come home with me. Let’s do it again, and again, and again,” his repeating words trail off as he moves closer, letting his lips graze Taehyung’s neck, leaving tiny kisses. 

Taehyung, head tilted to give the boy better access, softly moans in enjoyment, running his hand through the boy's hair. “Mm, I just met you. You could be a serial killer.”

“I’m not, promise,” he says between kisses.

“Sounds like something a serial killer would say.”

“Pinky promise,” Namjoon mumbles into his neck.

Taehyung giggles. “Well, I guess you can’t break a pinky promise.” He pulls Namjoon off his neck, pulling him in for one sweet peck. “Let’s go then, handsome.”

Namjoon smiles, taking Taehyung’s hand in his as they make their way to the museum exit. “You’re in for some serious chaos tonight, Taehyung-ssi.”

“Bring it on, Namjoon-ssi,” he smirks in response, following behind the boy.

━━━━━━

When Taehyung wakes up, his head is pounding. He’s not in his own bed, that much he knows for sure, considering it’s much, much nicer than his own. It’s soft, squishy, and... incredibly warm? He rubs at his eyes, trying to block the morning sun from glaring into them. He sees his clothes sprawled out over the floor and the night before slowly comes back in pieces. There was the art museum, the 4D exhibit, and a stranger named Namjoon. 

Oh, shit. A stranger named Namjoon. He rolls over, finding said stranger still fast asleep next to him. Well, that explains the bed being warm. He lifts the covers, discovering absolutely no clothes on him. Well, that explains a few things. 

From the floor, he can hear his phone vibrating. He reaches down, trying his best not to wake Namjoon or fall off the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling them closer to him. He struggles for a bit before finding his phone in the pocket, pulling it out to see his best friend, Jimin, calling him. He keeps his voice low as he answers the phone, not wanting to wake the sleeping man beside him.

“Hello?”

“Kim Taehyung! Where the hell are you?!”

“Oh, god, don’t yell. Please.”

“And, why’re you whispering?!” Jimin pauses. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re in someone’s bed.”

“Jimin, can we talk about this later? Please?” he continues to whisper, looking over his shoulder to make sure Namjoon is still asleep. Thankfully, he is.

“Fine, we can. But, you do realize today is the first day of class and your first one starts in less than an hour?”

He pulls the phone from his ear, checking the time. 8:15. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Jimin is right. His class starts at 9:00 and he’s naked in some strangers, well, in Namjoon’s bed. He jolts up, whispering back to Jimin. “I’ll be there. I have to go, bye!” 

He doesn’t give the boy time to answer before he clicks the phone off. Without hesitation, he gets out of the bed, trying to put his clothes back on as fast as he possibly can. All along, Taehyung thought he was being extremely quiet… turn’s out, he wasn’t. 

As he’s shoving his shirt over his head, he hears a low moan from the bed. Once his head is fully through the shirt, he sees Namjoon sitting up, rubbing at his eyes and letting out a big yawn. 

“You in a hurry?” God, his morning voice. If Taehyung could just listen to him talk like that forever, he absolutely would. But, now is not the time. 

“Yeah, I,” he stumbles, attempting to shove his feet into his shoes. “I’m late. I really have to go.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m close to my apartment from here, I can just walk. I just kind of have to go, it’s already eight fifteen and I have to be somewhere by nine.”

Namjoon jolts awake, turning to his digital clock on the bedside table. “Oh, shit. It’s late.”

“Late?” Taehyung laughs. “It’s eight fifteen. I’d hardly call that late.”

“It’s late for me,” he runs his hands through his hair, trying to straighten out his bed head.

“Well, it’s very late for me. I’ve got to go, but last night was fun,” he offers a small smile.

He tries to walk away but Namjoon reaches for his wrist, pulling him back. “Can we do it again?”

His soft face is too much for Taehyung to ever say no to. He doesn’t answer, just lightly pecks his lips with his own, a smile growing across both boys faces. Taehyung leaves the apartment without another word and as soon as his feet hit pavement outside, he dashes for his apartment. He cannot be late for his first day of class.

━━━━━━

“Seriously! A stranger, Taehyungie? What were you thinking?” Jimin exclaims as the two walk across campus.

“Trust me, I didn’t intend on it happening but it did. It was surprisingly nice.”

“Are you going to see him again?” Taehyung doesn’t answer, just side-eyes his friend, taking a sip of his coffee. “Taehyung!”

“What! He’s hot! And, he likes art! Those are rare!” 

The two share a laugh, walking into their building. It only takes them a few minutes to find their class hall, considering they’ve taken multiple courses in the room before. Jimin’s an art major, like Taehyung. That’s how the two met. One study group freshman year helped turn the two boys into best friends and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Once they enter the lecture hall, they sit about halfway up the seating section. It’s not too far back where they’ll miss anything but it’s not too close to the front where the professor will call upon them all class. It’s a good, happy medium spot. It was the most orderly spot in the entire classroom. 

Nine hits and there’s no professor in sight. Minutes go by and still no professor. Maybe they forgot? I mean, how can you forget the first day of classes, but it happens, right? Jimin and Taehyung are in their own world of conversation, the younger explaining his entire night to Jimin and Jimin giving his best reactions. A few people stand up to leave but as they do, a figure hurries into the hall. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, class!” The man’s voice echoes through the hall, his back turned to the students. He sets his things down at the desk, before stepping around it to write on the board. “My name,” he begins writing, “is Mr. Kim. Welcome,” he turns around, facing the students, “to advanced art.”

Taehyung isn’t looking up when Mr. Kim faces the group. His head is down, scribbling something on his paper. But, when he looks up, his eyes lock with Mr. Kim’s… with Namjoon’s. 

Both boys freeze. Taehyung feels small. He feels like his entire world just came crashing down in front of him. Namjoon takes a few seconds, stumbling over his words before he addresses the class again.

“Please, pull out your textbooks and turn to chapter one.” He turns to his bag, reaching for his own book. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispers. “Jimin, holy fuck.”

“What is it?”

“Jimin, it’s him.”

“Him who?” his friend asks, confused.

“Jimin, it’s Mr. Kim.”

“Yeah? What about him? He’s the professor?” Jimin is still confused.

Taehyung finally turns to him. “No, like, he’s him, from last night. Jimin, he’s the stranger I slept with.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Jimin’s reaction is louder than intended, as other students shoot him a look. “You had sex with him?” he keeps his voice lower.

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m ruined. It’s fucking over for me.”

“But, you didn’t know he was the professor, right?”

“No! He didn’t even te-.”

His voice is cut off by Namjoon’s commanding one at the front of the room. “So, let’s start off easy. Can someone in here tell me what art means to them?” He looks down at a piece of paper, presumably with the list of students' names on it. “Park Jimin! How about you? Where are you?”

Jimin slowly raises his hand. Namjoon feels like a fucking idiot. Of course he’d call on Taehyung’s friend. Jimin gives a half-hearted answer, looking at Namjoon as he does so but Namjoon is far more focused on the boy sitting next to him. 

“Wonderful, thank you, Jimin-ssi,” Namjoon says, his attention still on Taehyung. Honestly, he has no idea what Jimin’s answer was, but surely it had to be good, right? “Hm, how about you? Boy beside him.”

Taehyung wants to punch Namjoon right in the face and Namjoon knows it. The younger’s jaw is clenched and he’s glaring right at the professor. “Kim Taehyung, sir ,” he emphasizes, catching the professor flinch ever so slightly. 

“Right, Taehyung-ssi. Tell the class, what does art mean to you?”

This should be good. “Well, Professor Kim, I think art should reflect life. After all, life imitates art.”

“What do you mean by that?” Taehyung can’t tell if he’s actually curious or just wants to push his buttons even more.

“Well, for instance, I like my life to be very orderly. Everything has its place. I like my art to be like that, too. When I look at art, I think it should be reflective of one’s life. So, personally, I don’t like to have chaos in my life so my art doesn’t either. Art reflects life.”

“So, you have no chaos in your life?”

Oh, he’s asking for it. “Not at all.”

Namjoon nods, his jaw clenched. Taehyung wonders if everyone else in the room can feel the sexual tension between the two. Jimin answers that question for him when he leans over, after Namjoon has moved to a new student, whispering to his friend, “you know, he looks at you like a fucking five course meal.”

“I know,” Taehyung whispers back with a smirk.

Class goes by quickly, especially since Namjoon dismisses everyone early. That happens to be the only perk of first days. Jimin and Taehyung are two of the last to leave the room and just as Taehyung is almost safely out the door, he hears a familiar voice behind him. “Oh, Taehyung-ssi!”

Jimin turns to him, whispering, “good luck”, before leaving the room.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?” Taehyung keeps up the ruse, since a few students are still leaving the hall. 

“May I speak with you for a second?”

Do I even have a choice?, Taehyung wonders as he walks back to the professor's desk. 

Namjoon watches as students leave the room, the two finally alone again. “We should probably talk about this.”

“About what? You’re my professor. Nothing more to discuss.”

“Taehyung-ssi, you woke up in my bed this morning. Both of us were naked, might I add. This is a little more complicated than I’m your professor.”

“Well, we both know this can’t happen. Right?”

“It would be unethical,” Namjoon nods in agreement. 

“Then, it’s settled.”

“You really can just brush it away that quickly, huh?”

Taehyung tilts his head, looking at the boy in confusion. “I told you, I don’t like chaos. This,” he motions between them. “This would be chaos.”

“You seemed to love chaos last night.”

The student leans over the desk, getting closer to Namjoon’s face. “Mhm, but that’s before I found out you’re my professor, sir. ”

The name, although formally correct, sent shivers down Namjoon’s spine. “Keep calling me sir and we’ll have a problem.”

“Oh? Like what?” Taehyung teases. “You can’t do anything to me, sir. You’re my professor and I’m merely a student in your class.”

Namjoon grips the boy's chin, forcing his attention to be on him. He watches as Taehyung’s adam's apple bobs in his throat, a sign of nerves. “I’m your professor who will gladly bend you over this desk at any moment. Don’t test me, Taehyung-ssi.”

“Aw,” Taehyung pads his thumb across Namjoon’s plump lip, distracting the other. “That’s cute. You think you’re the dominant one in this. Need I remind you that you were calling out my name last night, sir?”

“Mhm, I was. But, don’t let that fool you. I’ll happily make you scream my name in this lecture hall.”

“That so?”

“Sure is. So, I suggest you stop with the whole ‘sir’ thing now before your life gets a little more chaotic, hm?”

Taehyung snaps upright, stepping away from his desk. “Believe me, I can control my thoughts. Can you?”

He doesn’t say another word before leaving the hall. Namjoon has his work cut out for him this semester. 

━━━━━━

A month and a half pass and by now, almost everyone can tell there’s something going on between Namjoon and Taehyung. Although, most just assume they don’t like each other. Not for any particular reason, just disagreements on art pieces. Jimin is the only one who can see the disputes for what they really are: sexual tension dying to be released. 

“Eunha-ssi, tell me, what do you think the artist is trying to convey in this piece?” 

“Well,” she begins, “I think it reflects something desirable. The artist clearly wants the viewer to want more. From my point of view, I’m left wanting to know more about the young girl in the corner. That could just be because I have been a young girl before but I want to know more about her. Why is she there? What is she doing? It’s all up to each person’s interpretation, I think. As I desire more information about the girl, say, um, Taehyung-ssi, he might want to know more about the storm in the background. He might see it and view it as chaos, like he mentioned at the beginning of this semester.”

“Taehyung-ssi!” Namjoon calls out, bringing the boy's attention to him. “Do you agree with Eunha?”

“Which part?”

“Every part.”

“Well, I think she’s right in the desirable part. The artist leaves a lot up to interpretation so a viewer might see it and crave a certain part of it.”

“Crave is an interesting word to use,” Namjoon speaks up. “What part exactly do you crave ?”

His emphasis of the word sends shivers down Taehyung’s spine. He was doing so well these past few weeks. He finally got over his desire to be bent over Namjoon’s desk, which, granted, that one took a while to get over. The image stained his mind for a few weeks. He finally thought he could look at Namjoon and only see Professor Kim, not his naked body laying next to him. Yet, the way the word crave plays on his lips makes Taehyung rethink everything.

“I think Eunha was spot on. I see the storm and I think, why did the artist choose to include that? Everything else is seemingly peaceful in the artwork yet they chose to include a storm brewing? It makes me wonder if something was going on in the artist's life.”

“Explain?”

“What if they thought everything was fine and swell, but they could feel this presence looming over them? They weren’t quite sure what it was fully so it’s just a storm brewing, not a storm that’s fully created. What was their brewing storm? What did they see coming in their seemingly peaceful life?”

Namjoon leans against his podium. “And, do you? See something brewing in your, how did you put it, orderly life?” He gets a few laughs from the class for repeating Taehyung’s words. “Is there something that you see coming? Is that why you’re drawn to that aspect?”

“Maybe. Yeah, maybe.” 

This conversation is no longer about art and both of them know that.

Namjoon only nods, turning back to his desk. “Dude, that was,” Jimin starts but Taehyung cuts him off.

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

Namjoon remains silent, the class watching him for what they should do next. He glances them once over, his eyes stopping at Taehyung for just a little longer. “You guys can go for the day, I have a few things to work on before we meet again. Have a nice afternoon, well, it’s Friday. Have a nice weekend!”

The class begins to file out of the lecture hall. Taehyung seems to be frozen in his seat, only moving when Jimin nudges him. He snaps out of his trance, where all he could do was stare at Namjoon. Although, his stare wasn’t a you’re-so-hot-please-fuck-me kind of stare but rather a what-is-happening-between-us-i-know-you-have-to-be-just-as-confused-as-me kind of stare. 

Taehyung follows Jimin out of the room, exiting last, leaving the professor alone in the large hall. They get a few feet away from the door before Taehyung’s feet stop him. 

“Jiminie, I think I need to,” he trails off.

“Go. Talk to him.”

“But, technically it’s not right.”

“Fuck the technicalities. If I have to watch you two eye fuck each other one more class or talk about art when you’re really talking about you two, I might go insane.”

The younger laughs at his friend, giving him a small hug before returning to the room. He opens the door slowly, the wooden frame creaking as he does so. Namjoon looks up from his desk, sitting upright when he sees Taehyung.

“Taehyung-ssi? Can I help you with something?” he asks, still seated.

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, sir. I mean, no, Professor Kim.”

“Oh, what? Now you start using Professor Kim with me?”

“Sorry, I just,” his hands shake at his side. Namjoon takes notice immediately, standing from his seat and moving to Taehyung’s side. He grasps at his arms, rubbing them up and down to calm the boy. 

“Hey, what is it? You can tell me.”

The student keeps his head low. “You remember what we talked about in class? The whole storm brewing thing?”

“Yes, I remember. It did just happen minutes ago, Taehyung-ssi,” he lightly laughs, trying to ease the boy's nerves.

“Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry. Um, I just, that was a lot.”

“I’m not following.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, finally looking up to meet his professor's eyes. “You. You’re the storm brewing in my life.” Namjoon looks at him confused. “Not even just because of what happened, you know, that , but I think before that. I think you were the storm brewing in my life before we met.”

“Taehyung-ah, you’re going to have to explain this to me more. I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

The boy lowers his head again, to which Namjoon tilts his head, putting himself directly into Taehyung’s eyesight. He smiles, reassuring him it’s okay. “Like I say all the time, I really like order and cohesiveness. That’s my big picture. But, that day at the museum, you kind of ruined that.”

Namjoon takes a step back, his face almost in awe of the boy’s words. 

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Taehyung reassures. “Remember how I told you that you kept interrupting my thoughts? Whenever I’d look at a painting I’d want to think about it before I talked?”

“Mhm, I remember.”

“Well, I think that’s how you were my storm. My life was peaceful and then you came in, kept interrupting my thoughts, we did… stuff.... and now you’re my professor. It’s kind of hard to not think you’re my storm.”

“Well, I can see how you would think that.”

Taehyung turns his attention to the painting on the board that the class was previously discussing. “Is that storm good or bad? Do you think the artist wanted it to crash over them or were they wanting to avoid it?”

Namjoon caresses his cheek. “It’s up to you to decide that, sweet boy.” Taehyung responds with a simple ‘oh’. “So, tell me, is your storm something you want to avoid? Or, do you want it to crash over you?”

Taehyung stares at him. Seconds feel like minutes. What does he want? He enjoyed being around Namjoon at the museum. He wanted…. he wants to do that again. Plus, the whole waking up next to him wasn’t bad either. But, he’s his professor. He’s literally the person deciding if he passes or fails college. It’s wrong on so many levels. Yet, with Namjoon’s caring eyes looking into his and his soft hand caressing his cheek, none of that seems to matter. 

“Hm? Tell me, love, what’ll it be?”

The pet name makes Taehyung smile, his cheeks flush red. 

“Crash. Crash, crash, crash,” he repeats, his boxy smile coming forward.

With one small smile, Namjoon does just that. He crashes his lips onto the boys, in turn, crashing completely over the boys peaceful life. Or, what was peaceful anyways.

Taehyung pulls back softly, already upset with himself for doing so. “We have to play this so safely, though. I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“We’ll make it work, love. I promise.”

“Good,” he smiles before gently kissing him again.

And, they do. They play it completely safe, making sure that everything is in secret until the semester finishes. The short remaining two months feel like a lifetime to the two but they make it work, celebrating on the last day of class the only way they know how: a certain 4D art exhibit.