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Warm sunlight streams through the classroom windows. A light, balmy breeze flutters the blinds, causing them to rattle against the frame. Birds are singing. Butterflies and bees flit from one flower to another. The large trees in the courtyard below have sprouted fresh, young leaves.
Spring is here.
People say spring is the season for love.
Wonwoo isn’t too sure about that. More like the season for hormones to run rampant, he thinks wryly.
“…nwoo! Wonwoo!”
A hand suddenly appears across his vision, waving excessively. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, glimpsing toward the nuisance. His vacuous classmates have been wasting the majority of their lunch break discussing yet another inane topic, he’s certain. Wonwoo has done his best to block them out. He had hoped that the open book in his grasp and the buds in his ears would be enough of a sign of his disinterest.
Clearly, it hadn’t been overt enough.
Perhaps he needs to put up a sign that says “do not disturb.”
“What?” he asks in monotone, pulling an earphone out. He throws a brief glance at the clock. The bell will ring soon. He supposes he can humor them for a few minutes.
“What’s your secret?” Lee Hwanji asks. “Is it because you give off an air of aloofness?”
“It’s gotta be more than that!” Park Jungseok interjects. “Do you see Cha Kangseo getting any attention? He ignores everyone, and everyone avoids him like the plague. It’s because Wonwoo is so smart!”
“And tall. Hey, you work out, too, right?” Kim Minhee asks, nudging Wonwoo’s shoulder.
“Wait, you work out even though you’re on the track and field team?” Jungseok whistles. “Man, no wonder you attract half the school.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t follow where this conversation is going,” Wonwoo admits. He swallows down the rest of the sentence that goes: ‘And I do not care.’
“We’re talking about how you always have a bunch of admirers,” Hwanji says. In the same instant, he sweeps his arm toward the windows overlooking the hallway. Wonwoo follows his gaze to see three tittering second years peering through. As soon as the girls seem him, they gasp and run off, face flushed. The boy is brave enough to smile nervously wave, before he, too, flees the scene with pink cheeks.
Wonwoo sighs. Just as he surmised. Another day, another frivolous topic. Hormones really are running rampant.
“I don’t have a secret,” he answers the first question. “Neither do I encourage their behavior.”
“Waaahhhh!” Minhee exclaims. “Spoken like a true popular school idol. I envy you, dude. Must be nice having both looks and brains.”
“You never seem interested in any of them, though,” Jungseok remarks, a hand on his chin. “How come? They’re all so cute!”
Wonwoo shrugs. “To each their own.”
Hwanji snaps his fingers, eyes lighting up as if he’s just discovered the meaning of life. “I got it! Could it be…” he lowers his voice. He signals the others, and they all huddle close, heads bowed conspiratorially. “Wonwoo, do you already have someone you like?”
Without hesitation, Wonwoo nods. “Yes, I do.”
The three boys gasp, jaw hanging loose, eyes popping. They clamor around his desk, surrounding him, crowding him in. Fortunately, Wonwoo isn’t claustrophobic, but he still backs away on instincts.
“For real?”
“Who are they?”
“Do they go to our school?”
“Are they in our class?”
“What are they like?”
The first bell rings. Wonwoo takes the few seconds to stop his music and put away his book. By the door, students start to scurry off toward their respective classrooms, teachers holding books and laptops among them. He sees shadows zooming past the windows, hears rubber soles squeaking against the linoleum tiles of the hallway.
A moment later, their temporary homeroom teacher—a student teacher, to be exact—enters. A laptop case is slung across his torso, his arms are full of notebooks and folders. A queue of blushing, giggling students follow after him. Even from this distance, Wonwoo can see the heart eyes nearly engulfing their teacher.
He ignores them, though, just like he ignores the prick of bitter jealousy stabbing at his chest. Instead, he focuses on the young man. His gaze sweeps over him from head to toe. Soft, downy blond hair, bright and animated doe eyes, tall nose bridge, heart-shaped lips. His stomach swoops as he focuses on the two moles dotting along his cupid’s bow.
He continues to appraise the young teacher. Saliva pools in his mouth as his gaze lingers around the smooth column of his neck. He swallows thickly, eyes dipping to the tiny waist he knows is hiding under the blue sweater. His fingers twitch. The rest of their teacher is hidden behind the desk. Wonwoo isn’t sure whether to be relieved or curse the fact that he can’t see his plush thighs.
“So?” Jungseok pokes him with a pen. “What do they look like?”
“They’re beautiful,” Wonwoo replies instantly, still staring straight forward.
“Well, of course you’re gonna think they’re beautiful,” one of them snorts. “Give us some details, man!”
As if sensing his gaze on him, their teacher lifts his face from his documents. Their eyes meet.
Junhui flashes him a shy smile, before he ducks his head, cheeks pink, and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.
“All right, class,” Junhui clears his throat and addresses everyone with a bright smile. He pulls out a thick and heavy stack of papers from his bag. The collar of his sweater dips slightly, exposing smooth and golden skin.
Wonwoo drinks it all in with relish.
“I have your tests from last week to pass out, and—”
“Mr. Wen!” Park Jihyun, sitting at the front row, shoots her hand into the air.
Pausing, Junhui looks up from the pile of essays. “Yes, what’s wrong?”
“What happened to your shoulder?” the girl asks with no small amount of concern and worry. She points to her own shoulder. “Is that a bruise? It looks fresh?”
“Mr. Wen!” Kim Emi gasps. “Did you get hurt?”
Flustered, Junhui shoots up, spine as straight as a pole. His cheeks are tinged the loviest shade of scarlet as he quickly straightens out his sweater. Briefly. The barest of movement. But Wonwoo catches it, anyway. Junhui casts a glimpse toward him, before breaking out into nervous laughter. He dismisses the girls’ worries with both hands.
“Really, it’s nothing. I must have gotten bitten by a mosquito.”
Wonwoo snorts into his closed fist, forcing himself to look away lest he ends up laughing out loud.
“Man, Mr. Wen is such a cutie,” Hwanji sighs. “I wonder if he has a partner.”
“Mm.” Wonwoo hums noncommittally.
At the front, Junhui starts calling out names to pick up essays. Apparently, that’s enough of an opening for the guys to hound Wonwoo again.
“He’s not wearing a ring, so he’s not married.”
“There’s no way someone like that is still single, though,” Minhee disagrees.
“Whoever they are,” Hwanji muses, “They’re one lucky dude.”
Wonwoo barks out a laugh, slightly too loudly, going by the curious glimpse Junhui throws his way.
“Speaking of partners.” Jungseok punches his arm half-heartedly. “Quit dodging our questions. Since when have you been dating someone? It’s so hard to imagine when you keep turning down every confession and love letters.”
Wonwoo gives him a dry look and responds in monotone, “Why would I accept any confession if I’m already dating someone?”
“Okay, makes sense. But now I’m really curious what that person’s like,” Minhee interject.
“Good for you. Curiosity is a sign of intelligence,” Wonwoo retorts.
Minhee tries to kick him under the desk, but ends up stubbing his toes instead. He crumbles over the back of his chair, swallowing down the yelp. Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“Just describe them!” Jungseok hisses, impatient.
“They’re…” Wonwoo mulls over the words. He’s at the top of the class, on track to become Valedictorian. And yet he seems to fail at grasping all the words needed to fully describe his lover. Well, to be more accurate, he could probably wax poetic about him. Unfortunately, it’d be wasted on his friends’ hormonal brains.
Amidst the chatter, a sweet and melodious voice calls, “Wonwoo.”
He glances up toward the front of the class. Junhui smiles, eyes crinkling. He waves the essay in his hand, sweater paw nearly engulfing the pages. Wonwoo’s stomach swoops, and his heart flutters. Just like that, it becomes so easy. One word is enough.
Wonwoo grins. “Mine.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚♡°♡˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
Long after the end of club activities, once all the rest of the students leave campus, Wonwoo gathers his books and binders into his bag. He nods goodbye to the librarian, then heads out. On his way toward the exit, he swings by the teacher’s lounge. Like clockwork, the door clicks quietly open, and Junhui emerges with his own book bag. Upon seeing him, Junhui beams, bright and warm.
They walk home together. Being childhood friends with your boyfriend has so many perks.
“Your friends were a lot more boisterous than usual today,” Junhui comments casually.
“Mm.” He hums, expression even. “They were asking me about mosquito bites.”
Brows furrowed, Junhui mumbles, “Mosquito bites—” Then as understanding dawns, he flushes bright red. He spins around and swats at Wonwoo, which only makes the younger laugh harder. “It is not funny! Do you know how horrified I was? Oh, my god…” Groaning, he presses his hands over his burning face.
“I apologize,” Wonwoo offers sincerely, reaching up to tug one hand away. They can’t be seen displaying any type of romantic behavior out in the open, so Wonwoo resigns to a gentle squeeze around Junhui’s fingers for now, then he releases his hand. “But you have to partially take the blame.”
“How so?” Junhui wonders, pouting.
“That.” He points. “Right there.”
“What?”
“Stop acting cute.”
“Wha—I’m not acting!”
“I know,” Wonwoo sighs, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket. “You’re naturally cute, and it’s terrible for my heart.” Feigning vexation, he cuts his eyes at him.
Junhui, blushing anew, dissolves into giggles as he hides behind one hand. “Wonwon…” He nudges their shoulders together.
“At any rate, you said you’d let me do whatever I wanted if I could solve that monster equation,” he reminds him. “At least I didn’t mark your neck.”
“Oh, my god, I’d have dug a hole and crawled into it.” As if trying to block out the mental image, Junhui clasps both hands over his eyes.
Then immediately nearly trips over a crack in the sidewalk.
“Junnie!” Wonwoo reaches out to catch him around the waist. “Don’t walk with your eyes closed!”
“Sorry, sorry!”
“Honestly.” Firmly, Wonwoo keeps hold of his hand. Even from the corner of his eye, he can see Junhui blushing. Idly, he can’t help but wonder… If just holding hands is enough to fluster Junhui this much, what’s going to happen when they go further.
Junhui’s rather adamant about keeping their relationship chaste until graduation—much to Wonwoo’s annoyance. Can’t blame a guy for trying to push the boundaries every once in a while. He says that, but that hickey’s the furthest he’s allowed himself to go. As much as he loves Junhui and wants to hold him, he knows why Junhui set up that rule. All he can do is bear it… begrudgingly.
“I should be awarded sainthood by the time I graduate,” he mutters, fingers laced into Junhui’s.
His boyfriend giggles, reciprocating the pressure. He hugs Wonwoo’s arm to his chest. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d think you were only after me for my body.”
Wonwoo snorts, glancing at his ridiculously cute face. “You already gave me your heart. You should’ve known that I’d be greedy for the rest of you, too.”
Letting out a squeak, Junhui presses his burning face into Wonwoo’s shoulder to hide. “You’re being so unfair, Wonwon,” he mumbles.
Laughing, Wonwoo leans over and presses a kiss on his hair. “Then that makes both of us.”
Junhui whines quietly, trying to glare at him. All it accomplishes is make Wonwoo’s heart grow fonder. “You’re too cute. That glare doesn’t work.”
Like the very mature twenty-year old that he is, Junhui sticks his tongue out and huffs.
Wonwoo pokes at his cheek. “Are you coming over today?”
“I want to, but I have to write my report. It’s due at noon tomorrow.”
“You can do it in my room after dinner, while I do my own homework.”
Lifting his head, Junhui sends a look that screams Is that really all we’re going to do in your room?
Wonwoo laughs. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.”
“Okay.”
Well, that didn’t take much to convince him.
The surprise must have shown plainly on his face, because Junhui laughs softly and squeezes his arm a little tighter. “I like spending time with you, too.” Then his voice grows softer, nearly blending into the quiet streets. “It’s not that I dislike when you k-kiss me and stuff, either, it’s just…”
“Yeah.” Wonwoo gentles his gaze. “I know, kitten.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚♡°♡˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
At school, Jeon Wonwoo and Wen Junhui are merely student and teacher(-in training).
But if anyone with a keen eye were to observe them, they would notice that when the two cross paths in the corridor, a very small exchange occurs. A look, a smile.
And occasionally, hands brush against each other, and two fingers entwine.
A very brief touch, less than a second, even.
Yet the keen observer would notice that both appear much happier upon parting ways in opposite directions.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚♡°♡˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
Three months ago...
When Wonwoo opens his locker, a small slip of paper falls out. Curious, he picks it up and unfolds it to read. He recognizes the handwriting right away, and a smile tugs the corner of his mouth.
If you can solve this equation and graph it before the end of the day, then I’ll give you your chocolate.
(x² + y² – 1)² = x² y³
Hint: Happy Valentine’s Day!
Later that afternoon, Wonwoo finds that Junhui’s lips are a lot tastier than any chocolate.