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Hongjoong stared at the large number on the screen. 39 out of 100. Chest burning, he numbly scrolled through the test questions and answers. They began to blur together until he reached the free-response section.

Excellent factual recall, Dr. Park had commented on Hongjoong’s first response. However, your responses reflect a lack of the critical thinking required to completely answer the question. Then, despite Hongjoong’s “excellent factual recall,” the score for the question read 0/15 in blazing, bold letters. The case was similar for the rest of the free-response questions.

Eventually, Hongjoong slammed his computer shut, then opened it gently and whispered an apology to the poor laptop.

This is so stupid, he thought bitterly, rising from his seat at his desk. He practically stomped all the way from the bedroom to the living room of his apartment.

His roommate Wooyoung glanced up from his video game. “What’s wrong?”

Hongjoong let out a heavy sigh. “I hate this stupid psych class,” he said through gritted teeth, throwing himself onto the battered sofa beside Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he completed a particularly tricky attack. “How come?” he asked after a moment.

Hongjoong read him the submission comments that Dr. Park had left.

“That’s so annoying,” Wooyoung said distractedly, eyes fixed on the screen. “At least partial credit would be nice.”

“Right?!” Hongjoong groaned, frustration rising in his chest. “And now that brings my grade in the class down to a D.”

“We’re only a month into the semester,” Wooyoung reminded him. “You’ve got time to turn it around.”

“I just don’t know how,” Hongjoong mumbled, grabbing a cushion and pulling it to his chest. “Every time I think I might just have the teacher figured out, he does something like this, and I’m back to square one.”

“Try going to his office hours,” Jongho piped up from the apartment entrance.

Hongjoong whirled around, heart in his throat. “Why are you here?” he screeched.

Jongho raised his eyebrows. “I live here?”

“No, I mean… shouldn’t you be in class?” Hongjoong said weakly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Got out early,” Jongho replied, plopping down on a chair. 

Hongjoong shook his head, feigning annoyance to hide his embarrassment as he slouched further down in his seat. 

“You should go to your professor’s office hours,” Jongho reiterated.

“And what? Cuss him out for being an unfair grader?” Hongjoong shook his head again.

“You can figure out what exactly he’s looking for,” Jongho said. “Most professors won’t give good grades to objectively right responses. There’s always something extra that you have to give them.”

Hongjoong’s brow wrinkled. 

“Not like that, you pervert,” Jongho muttered, rolling his eyes. “You just have to cater your responses to each teacher.”

“Or it could be like that,” Wooyoung interjected, smirking. “Is Dr. Park hot?”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong threw a cushion at him, but he couldn’t help the blush crawling up his cheeks because, yes, Dr. Park was hot. 

The next day, Hongjoong knocked gently on Dr. Park’s office door. He heard a brisk “Come in,” so he pushed it open and shuffled in, turning to close the door softly. 

Dr. Park sat behind what was quite possibly the tidiest desk Hongjoong had ever seen. It wasn’t cluttered with papers and files, which were instead inside some sort of silver organizer. The only other items on the desk were a matching silver stationery organizer, a sleek silver laptop (seemed like someone liked a good color scheme), and their class textbook, A Comprehensive Introduction to Psychology. 

Dr. Park’s dark hair swooped over his face in the front and curled over his neck in the back, nearly touching the top of his gray blazer. He was wearing half-rim glasses, accentuating his piercing gaze, which was currently directed at his laptop screen. His brow was furrowed, no doubt in disappointment at some other poor student’s homework. Hongjoong found himself staring at his professor’s perfect face, perfect eyes, perfect skin, perfect lips—why was he thinking about his professor’s lips? Wooyoung would probably be cackling with glee at Hongjoong’s sorry state right about now. 

Dr. Park glanced up at Hongjoong, who had to look away, flustered. 

“Good to see you, Hongjoong,” Dr. Park said crisply. “Take a seat.”

Hongjoong nodded mutely and managed to make his way over to the chair in front of the desk. 

“What did you want to discuss today?” Dr. Park asked, and oh sweet heavens, his voice was smoky and sexy, even more than in his lectures, and Hongjoong’s mind went blank. 

After a moment, Dr. Park cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows as if to say, Well? Hongjoong felt a fiery blush spreading across his cheeks and jaw as he coughed and managed to speak. “I had some questions about the free response questions from the most recent test,” he said, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat and touched his ear, a tell when he was nervous. His ear was burning hot. 

“What are your questions?” Dr. Park asked, setting down his glasses, and now Hongjoong could see his dark eyes unobstructed, and he didn’t want to look away, but he forced his gaze away. Could his cheeks get any hotter?

“Just about the grading criteria,” Hongjoong managed. “I saw that I received no points on the majority of the questions for lacking ‘critical thinking,’ b-but you commented that I still had ‘excellent factual recall.’” He began picking at his nails to avoid eye contact.

When Hongjoong had finally made the massive mistake of confiding in Wooyoung that yes, he did have a crush on his psychology professor, Wooyoung had first laughed his ass off, but he had then tried to give Hongjoong some tips on how to “get the guy.”

“He’s my professor,” Hongjoong had argued, scandalized. “I’m not actually going for him.”

“Forbidden romance,” Wooyoung had said deviously. “Best trope of them all.”

Hongjoong had sighed, and Wooyoung had proceeded to give him advice. Advice that Hongjoong thoroughly intended to ignore. Advice that included “look at his lips whenever he’s talking” and “wear your tightest jeans.” 

But now, Hongjoong’s eyes kept straying to Dr. Park’s lips, full and uniquely shaped. Lips that were speaking. Lips that had stopped speaking. What had he said? Hongjoong blinked himself back to the present and turned his eyes back up to the professor’s own.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Park,” Hongjoong stammered. “Could you repeat that?”

Dr. Park heaved a sigh, and Hongjoong braced himself to get yelled at, but all the professor said was, “Call me Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong blinked. “What?”

“Call me Seonghwa.” Dr. Park—SEONGHWA—actually smiled, and Hongjoong’s eyes widened because damn, he was even more gorgeous then, eyes turning from harsh to kind, lips spreading to reveal a mouthful of very white teeth.

“It’s my first year as a professor,” Seonghwa continued. “I just finished my doctorate. I’m only 26. It feels… strange to have you all address me so formally when I was just a student myself.”

Hongjoong blinked rapidly and nodded. “I understand. No problem, Doc—Seonghwa,” he corrected himself.

Seonghwa nodded, pleased. “So as I was saying, the rubric that I made available for each free-response question did not account for factual recall. It only judged how you applied the facts to answer the prompt. I can pull up your answers now, and we can take a look together.” He put his glasses back on, and Hongjoong’s stomach did about a hundred backflips. Seonghwa’s fingers flew over his keyboard (dammit, even his hands were sexy), and a moment later, he turned the laptop so they could both see.

“Are you good at memorization, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked.

“I-I think so?” Hongjoong stared at the laptop screen to avoid eye contact.

“I thought so. You got a perfect score on the multiple-choice portion. And you recalled all the terms perfectly in answering the free-response questions. But like I said, these questions were more about application and critical thinking.”

Hongjoong nodded, still staring at the screen. Seonghwa leaned in a bit as he scrolled through the test answers. He was wearing some sort of delicious musky cologne. Hongjoong’s pulse raced. He felt like he was going to faint, and not from the pungency of the smell.

“Like for this question.” Seonghwa stopped scrolling and gestured to the question on the screen. “You recalled Erikson’s stages of development perfectly. Most students in an introductory psych course have a lot of trouble with that.” He smiled again, like a reward. “But the question was about how these stages could be manifested in the life of a child who has had a mildly traumatic upbringing.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Hongjoong said. “I thought I had done that in my answer, though.”

“The issue here is that the terms were incorrectly applied,” Seonghwa said, leaning back. Hongjoong immediately missed his scent. “You memorized the terms. But do you really know what they mean? For the third stage, initiative versus guilt. The example you gave did not correctly demonstrate how guilt might manifest itself in the child’s life.” He leaned forward again, and Hongjoong’s heartbeat went wild. “I think that what happened was that you memorized the stages, thinking you’d only be tested on the names on the list itself, not expecting to have to apply them.”

Hongjoong’s cheeks burned. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“There’s no need to be sorry. It’s just something to keep in mind when you’re studying from now on.” Seonghwa sat back again and took off his glasses. “I appreciate your proactivity, Hongjoong. A lot of students earned similar scores, but you are the only one who tried to do something about it.” He tilted his head. “I can let you retake the free response section for half credit.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “Yes, please, that sounds great,” he said all in a rush.

Seonghwa smiled again. He was so beautiful. “The questions will obviously be different, but they will be of equal difficulty and require application of the same concepts. You can come in tomorrow or the day after.”

“Tomorrow works,” Hongjoong said quickly. “Thank you so so so so much-”

Seonghwa cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Of course, of course. Does 11 work?”

Hongjoong quickly checked his phone calendar and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa smiled once more, and Hongjoong was almost blinded as he managed a smile back and waved goodbye, stumbling out of the room.

“He’s letting you retake the test?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened. “He must like you.”

“As a student?” Hongjoong had to ask.

“Well, yeah, that’s what I meant… but would you be opposed to something more?” Wooyoung waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, shut up,” Hongjoong snapped, shoving Wooyoung’s face into the couch cushions as Wooyoung cackled.

Hongjoong stood up and began to pace across the matted living room carpet. “You have to help me study,” he said, then shook his head. “Never mind. That’s a terrible idea. Should I get Jongho to help me? That seems more reasonable. No, but…” Hongjoong was beginning to ramble. He stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched. “I just want to do well. I just want to prove myself,” he said, exhausted.

“You just want to impress your crush, you mean,” Wooyoung said, then ducked as another cushion was hurled his way.

“I’m never telling you anything ever again,” Hongjoong muttered, grabbing his bag and stalking to his room.

At 11 o’clock the next morning, a jittery and sleep-deprived Hongjoong knocked on Seonghwa’s office door and again heard, “Come in.” He fumbled with the doorknob before accidentally shoving the door wide open. Wincing, he apologized quietly and made his way over to Seonghwa’s desk again.

“Good to see you again, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa greeted him, his smile as dizzying as ever. “If you’re ready, I’ll go ahead and open up the test in Canvas.”

Hongjoong touched his ear and nodded. “Yes, sounds good. Thank you so much again,” he said, pleased to find that he actually sounded coherent today.

“You’re welcome,” Seonghwa said with another blinding smile. “Any questions before you start?”

Hongjoong shook his head.

“Alright. You can have a seat at the little table over there.” Seonghwa gestured towards a small circular table around which sat three chairs. 

Hongjoong made his way over and sat down gingerly in the chair that faced Seonghwa, then immediately regretted it. Not only might Seonghwa think that he was trying to hide his computer screen and cheat, but now Hongjoong would also be incredibly distracted by Seonghwa’s face just behind his laptop screen. Seonghwa said nothing about it, though, merely smiling gently as he put on his glasses and focused on his own screen. Hongjoong took a deep breath and pressed the “Take Quiz” button.

Hongjoong flew through the first three free-response questions in an unprecedented state of focus. Then he hit question 4. It was like he had been in a bubble, and it popped. Hongjoong stared blankly at the screen, reading words but not making sense of them. He glanced up from his screen and at Seonghwa at the desk beyond. Seonghwa was staring intently at his screen and typing furiously. He was wearing a black button-up shirt today, sleeves cuffed to his elbows. He paused typing for a second and ran his hands through his hair, mussing it up before he returned to typing. Hongjoong couldn’t look away. Seonghwa glanced up and smiled, closed-lipped. Hongjoong’s ears burned as he focused back on his screen. He cranked out an answer to the last question, hit “Submit”, and closed his laptop gently, taking a deep breath. 

“All done?” Seonghwa stood up. “I’ll try to get the grade back to you by tomorrow night.”

Hongjoong exhaled. “Sounds good. Thank you so much again.”

“Of course. If you’re ever having trouble with the material, please come to my office hours. I’m here to help.” Seonghwa looked so earnest, and Hongjoong’s heart fluttered in his chest.

“Yeah, for sure. Thank you!” Hongjoong waved, then thought better of it and nodded as he slipped out the door.

Once he was safely outside and a good distance from Seonghwa’s office, Hongjoong stopped and banged his head against the wall of the hallway. Get it together! 

After about three more weeks, it was time for another exam. Hongjoong had done well on his previous make-up exam, earning 54 out of the 61 available points for the free response section. Since he could only get half credit, that only brought his test grade up to a 66. Still, 66 was better than 39, and now his grade in the class was a C. But Hongjoong needed to do well on every exam for the rest of the semester to pull that up. And this most recent unit had him completely lost and confused.

“Office hours,” Wooyoung sang out when Hongjoong complained to him about his dilemma.

“I don’t wanna bother Seonghwa,” Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips as he felt a headache coming on. “There are psychology tutors at the library. I just can’t make it to any of their time slots.”

“YOU’RE ON A FIRST-NAME BASIS WITH HIM?!” Wooyoung crowed, and Hongjoong winced. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME THESE THINGS?”

“Because you turn around and do shit like this,” Hongjoong muttered.

Wooyoung laughed deviously, then sobered up. “Dr. Park—excuse me, Seonghwa—literally told you to go to office hours if you were ever struggling.” Wooyoung shrugged. “I don’t think you’d be bothering him. And it’d be another opportunity to hang out with your crush.” He smirked, and Hongjoong flipped him off with both hands before sitting down in the middle of the carpet.

“Being alone with him is kinda nerve-racking,” Hongjoong mumbled, running both hands through his hair before pulling at fistfuls of it, unable to do anything else to slow his racing heartbeat.

“Like I said. Wear your tightest jeans, do a few squats beforehand to make sure your ass looks good, and go get him, tiger,” Wooyoung said unhelpfully, standing up and clapping Hongjoong on the shoulder before walking off to his room.

Hongjoong fell onto his back on the thin apartment carpet, staring up at the ceiling before slowly pulling out his phone and registering for an office hours time slot. He hit “Sign Up” and rolled onto his stomach, screaming into a pillow. Good golly, he was a mess.

“Listen to this,” Hongjoong said, completely forgetting his previous promise never to tell Wooyoung anything important again. 

Seonghwa had emailed Hongjoong:

Hello Hongjoong!

Thanks for signing up for office hours! Usually, when students sign up for the 12-1 pm time slot, I like to ask if we could meet over lunch/coffee instead, since that’s the only time I have to eat. Would it work to meet at a café on campus, maybe the one at the library or the student union?

Yours truly,

Dr. Park (Seonghwa 😉)

“WINKING EMOJI?!” Wooyoung screeched, and Hongjoong winced. “He definitely likes you, Hongjoong.”

“He’s my teacher!” Hongjoong cried, scandalized. “And that’s not why I’m showing you this anyway. I just need to know how to act normally in front of him.”

“You said he’s 27? And you’re 22. You could definitely make it work.” Wooyoung smirked smugly.

“He’s 26. And that’s not the point,” Hongjoong said firmly, aiming a kick for Wooyoung’s shin, which Wooyoung expertly dodged.

“I’ll help you pick an outfit,” Wooyoung decided, dragging Hongjoong to his room.

“I don’t want your fashion advice!” Hongjoong pulled his arm out of Wooyoung’s grip. “Why do I even tell you anything?” he muttered.

Still, when Wooyoung came into Hongjoong’s room later with a pair of skinny jeans and a denim fleece jacket, Hongjoong didn’t tell him to buzz off. He instead picked up his phone and emailed Seonghwa back, saying that yes, lunch at the library café was fine. He threw down his phone and buried his head in a pillow. He didn’t know whether to scream and thrash or giggle and kick his feet like an excited schoolgirl.

Hongjoong arrived at the café at 11:50 to give himself time to mentally prepare, but Seonghwa was already there, seated in a booth near the window. He spotted Hongjoong right away and waved. Hongjoong waved back, because what else could he do? He walked over and sank into the seat across from Seonghwa, wincing slightly because Wooyoung’s jeans were so damn tight.

“Thanks for being flexible,” Seonghwa said, smiling. His teacher persona and outside-the-classroom self were so different.

Hongjoong nodded, flushing and touching his ear. He couldn’t help checking Seonghwa out. Today, Seonghwa’s hair was just a little fluffier than usual, and he was wearing a light gray button-up and black trousers. His glasses were perched on his nose, but he took them off, wiped them with his cuffed shirt sleeve, and set them on the table before glancing back up at Hongjoong. 

“I’ll pay for your meal,” Seonghwa said. Hongjoong opened his mouth to protest, and Seonghwa shook his head. “I’m the one who requested to meet over lunch. It’s only fair. What do you usually order?”

“Anything is fine,” Hongjoong said helplessly. “You really don’t have to—”

Seonghwa actually rolled his eyes at him. “Just tell me what you want to eat for lunch, Hongjoong.” He almost sounded like a friend. 

Reluctantly, Hongjoong gave him his usual order. Seonghwa went up to the counter to order both of their meals while Hongjoong pulled up his notes and the study guide. 

“So what’s been troubling you?” Seonghwa asked when he came back.

“Just the biology component of everything,” Hongjoong sighed. “I’m a music major for a reason.”

“Music performance?”

“No, composition.”

Seonghwa hemmed. “Interesting. As a composition major, I would think that you would have a very analytical mind. And maybe you do,” he said hurriedly. “Maybe it just doesn’t apply to psychology.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong crossed and uncrossed his legs, then began to fiddle with his fingers. 

“Just that you have had trouble connecting differing concepts before in this class,” Seonghwa said. “But as a composition major, I’m assuming you can apply those skills and music theory concepts relatively easily, beyond just memorization.” 

Hongjoong just shrugged. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about music theory or composition to try and draw any parallels to psychology,” Seonghwa sighed. “It’s just something interesting to note, though.” He paused. “This may seem unrelated, but it’s not. I’d love to hear one of your compositions sometime.”

Hongjoong’s leg began bouncing like a jackhammer. “I’m not very good,” he stammered. “I don’t think it’ll help anything.”

Seonghwa just smiled. “Don’t speak so ill of yourself. I’m sure you’re great. I want to see how your mind works.”

Hongjoong stared at the table for a section before minimizing the study guide and opening his drive. He pulled up one file that he was particularly proud of, a song that he had written shortly after coming to college three years prior. He’d workshopped it a lot over the years, but now it was finished, fully produced and edited. Hongjoong handed Seonghwa his headphones and hit play. Then he sat back, continuing to fidget with his fingers and avoiding looking at Seonghwa’s face. 

After an agonizing three minutes and fifteen seconds, Seonghwa removed the headphones and just stared at Hongjoong. “You’re brilliant,” he breathed. 

Hongjoong froze, unable to speak or move. 

“There’s got to be a way to wrap your incredible brain around introductory psychology,” Seonghwa said emphatically. “We’ll work it out together.” He smiled, wide and genuine. 

Hongjoong exhaled. “Might be a lost cause,” he joked weakly. As Seonghwa opened his mouth to contradict him, Hongjoong said quickly, “Wanna listen to other stuff I’ve made?”

At the end of the hour, both of their meals sat untouched, and they hadn’t covered any of the exam material, but Hongjoong had shown Seonghwa five other songs and three other pieces that he had composed and produced. 

“I would love to see your process,” Seonghwa said as they packed up their stuff so they could get to their respective classes on time. 

Hongjoong snorted. “You’d see a lot of facepalming and hitting the undo button, then.”

Seonghwa laughed. “Still. This is fascinating. You’re fascinating.” He said it casually, but Hongjoong’s brain went into overdrive. What would Wooyoung and Jongho have to say about this?

Hongjoong nodded by way of a response and followed Seonghwa out of the library. 

Once outside, Seonghwa turned to face him. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get to cover any of the material you were struggling with. We still have a week until the exam. Please come to my office hours again so I can help you.”

A breeze blew by, messing up Hongjoong’s bangs but ruffling Seonghwa’s locks perfectly. Hongjoong shivered slightly and nodded. “Sure thing. Thanks for lunch. Next time, I’m buying.” Then he bit his tongue, because that was something that a date would say, and they were not on a date. They were teacher and student. Stop being delusional, Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa just smiled and shook his head before waving goodbye and setting off at a brisk pace. Hongjoong stood still and watched him for a good ten seconds before shaking his head and forcing himself to begin the long trek to the music building. Maybe a good five hours in the studio would knock some sense into him. 

After a long ten hours in the studio, Hongjoong finally started to trudge back to his apartment. It was almost November, and it was frigid. Hongjoong shivered violently, his light hoodie useless against the autumn winds. 

At the crosswalk, there was an oncoming car, but it stopped to let Hongjoong cross. He waved politely and began to pass, but the driver honked the horn as soon as Hongjoong took his first step. Heart pounding out of his chest, Hongjoong stepped back and glared at the driver, squinting into the blinding headlights to try to get a better view. 

Then Seonghwa popped his head out of the driver’s side window. “Hongjoong! It’s me!”

Hongjoong hated how his heart continued to pound out of excitement now and not fear, how his lips turned up in a smile as he waved enthusiastically. Then he frowned. “It’s 11 o’clock. What are you still doing here?” he called back. 

“I teach a night class that goes until 9,” Seonghwa shouted out the window. “Then I decided to get caught up on some grading and lost track of time.” He paused. “Do you need a ride back to your dorm or apartment?”

“That would be fantastic,” Hongjoong called back before his common sense could kick in. 

Seonghwa leaned over to open the passenger side door, and Hongjoong jogged over and clambered in. 

“Can you give me directions?” Seonghwa asked. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Turn right up there.”

They drove in silence for the next couple of minutes, save for Hongjoong’s directions. Hongjoong watched Seonghwa as he drove. Somehow, even that was sexy. Seonghwa’s hair was a little more mussed than it had been earlier, and the top three buttons of his shirt were undone. He looked relaxed and so, so hot. 

Then Seonghwa asked out of the blue, “How was your day?”

Hongjoong blinked and answered quickly, “Ah, good. Spent the rest of the day in the studio, working on composing, producing, practicing singing, the usual stuff.” He attempted to shrug casually.

“You’ve been in the studio all day since our lunch?” Seonghwa asked. 

Hongjoong couldn’t read his tone, but he nodded.

“I don’t know whether to scold you or praise you,” Seonghwa teased. “Have you eaten?”

Hongjoong had to think for a second. “I had a Pop-Tart from the vending machine,” he offered. “And I drank a bottle of water.”

Seonghwa shook his head and abruptly made a U-turn in the middle of the empty street. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, and he gripped the car door for dear life. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to go get some actual food,” Seonghwa said, as if the answer were obvious. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened even further. “No no no, you don’t have to. I’ve got some snacks back at the apartment—”

“Snacks aren’t dinner,” Seonghwa said briskly, speeding towards the entrance to campus. 

Too tired to protest, Hongjoong just sank down in his seat. 

“What do you like to eat?” Seonghwa asked. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Anything is fine,” Hongjoong said wearily, staring at Seonghwa’s perfect side profile.

So they ended up at a 24-hour diner. 

“Sorry nothing nicer is open this late,” Seonghwa apologized as they sat down in a booth, facing each other. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “This is just fine. And don’t even think about trying to pay for me this time,” he said pointedly, then regretted how harsh his words sounded. 

Seonghwa just smiled and shook his head. “Don’t even think about trying to pay for yourself,” he shot back. 

Hongjoong ducked his head but couldn’t hide the little smile spreading across his lips. 

A waitress came to take their order. “Can I get you boys anything to drink?” she asked cheerily, smacking her bubblegum.

“Just water is fine,” Hongjoong said quickly when Seonghwa glanced at him.

Seonghwa nodded firmly. “Two waters,” he said to the waitress, and Hongjoong could’ve sworn she blushed as she nodded and skittered away.

Seonghwa turned to face Hongjoong, hands folded on the table. “So what did you work on in the studio?”

Hongjoong rubbed his temples with his fingers. “A whole lot of nothing,” he sighed.

Seonghwa nodded knowingly. “Sometimes, in order to be more productive, you have to take more breaks,” he said.

Hongjoong squirmed, and Seonghwa laughed. “Just try,” he said quickly. “Did you get any psych studying done?”

Hongjoong shook his head, slightly abashed.

“Do you want to meet tomorrow so I can help you with that?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong looked down at his lap. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“It’s literally my job,” Seonghwa reminded him, laughing again.

Hongjoong laughed too, slightly embarrassed, and looked up at Seonghwa, who was watching him with such keen interest that Hongjoong almost wanted to run away.

“Tomorrow over lunch again?” Seonghwa suggested.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Sure, but I’m buying.”

“Nope.” Seonghwa laughed, running his hand through his hair just as the waitress approached.

She set their waters down on the table and glanced between the two of them. “Are you boys ready to order?” she asked with a toothy smile, although her gaze was fixed on Seonghwa.

Seonghwa glanced down at the menu and nodded. “Burger and fries for both of us, please.”

The waitress nodded, fluttering her lashes as she looked down at the notepad she was writing on. Hongjoong almost felt… jealous? His chest felt tight as he watched her. She was pretty, with ash brown hair tied in a high ponytail, large brown eyes, and slightly flushed cheeks (but that might’ve been from being around Seonghwa). And she was tall and slim with oddly perky but small boobs, which were very prominent right now as she stood ramrod straight as close to Seonghwa as was comfortable. The name tag atop one of those boobs read Lisa.

Seonghwa didn’t spare her a glance after she took their menus, though, and Hongjoong exhaled as she walked away.

The meal was nice. Talking with Seonghwa now felt more like a conversation with a friend than with a teacher, but Hongjoong wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. It was still so nice, though, and Hongjoong felt all the stress from that afternoon fade into the background for now.

Lisa brought them the check, and Seonghwa handed over his credit card before Hongjoong even had the chance to open his wallet. He rolled his eyes at Seonghwa, who grinned back at him. Hongjoong felt the corner of his mouth tug up into a smile, too. Honestly, he didn’t know the last time he’d smiled this much.

Lisa came back with their receipts. Seonghwa signed both, and she slid the customer copy over to him, flipping it over at the last second before practically dashing away. She had written her number on the back. Hongjoong stared at it, and Seonghwa laughed out loud. “Be right back,” he said as he got up and took the receipt back to Lisa.

“What’d you tell her?” Hongjoong asked when Seonghwa returned.

“That I don’t swing that way.” Seonghwa shrugged. “I couldn’t let her get her hopes up.”

Hongjoong felt sorry for Lisa. Then his pulse quickened. “Don’t swing that way?” he repeated, wanting to make sure Seonghwa meant what he thought he meant.

“I only date dudes, not girls,” Seonghwa said, pulling on his coat.

Hongjoong took that as his sign to stand up and put on his hoodie, but his mind was whirling. Seonghwa was gay? Wooyoung would have a field day with that. Hongjoong could practically hear him yelling, “You have a chance!”

Outside, the wind was even chillier than before, practically cutting to Hongjoong’s bones. He couldn’t hide the shiver that racked his entire body. Seonghwa noticed and smoothly slipped off his coat and laid it over Hongjoong’s shoulders.

Hongjoong felt a flush crawl up his neck. He glanced up at Seonghwa, who was already briskly walking towards the driver’s side of the car. Hongjoong hurried after him, climbing into the passenger seat.

They drove back to campus in silence. Once Seonghwa pulled into the entrance, Hongjoong began giving him directions to the apartment. Other than that, they didn’t speak until they arrived. 

“Thank you so much for—” Hongjoong gestured vaguely “—everything. I really appreciate it.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Anytime. Now get out of my car.”

Laughing, Hongjoong scrambled out of the car, not realizing until Seonghwa had driven away that he still had Seonghwa’s coat. 

He took the elevator up to the sixth floor and unlocked the apartment quietly. There proved to be no need for that, though, because as soon as he opened the door, he saw Wooyoung and Jongho sitting very upright on the sofa, staring directly at him. 

Hongjoong stumbled backwards, then narrowed his eyes. “Were you stalking my location?”

Wooyoung held up his phone. “When you didn't come home by midnight, I checked your Life360, and you were off campus, so naturally, I watched your location until you were right outside the building. And I looked out the window, and you were getting out of Dr. Seonghwa Park’s car?!” Wooyoung’s voice had risen to a screech. Hongjoong couldn't tell if he was mad or not. 

Still, Hongjoong tilted his chin up and stood his ground. “I did nothing wrong.”

“Exactly!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “You did everything right! You’re getting the guy! Where were you, anyway?”

Hongjoong sighed. “He picked me up off the side of the road and took me to get food.”

Wooyoung absolutely lost it, falling to his knees laughing. 

“I’m not lying,” Hongjoong insisted, his face burning. 

“I believe you,” Wooyoung gasped. “It’s just such a funny situation.”

Hongjoong paused. “And then he told me he’s gay,” he mumbled. 

Wooyoung and Jongho’s eyes shot out of their heads. 

“There’s more context,” Hongjoong said hurriedly and told them about poor Lisa. 

“You actually have a chance,” Wooyoung murmured.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hongjoong snapped, pulling his coat tighter around himself. No, make that Seonghwa’s coat. Wooyoung noticed too and immediately screamed, “IS THAT HIS COAT?”

Hongjoong winced and turned to Jongho, who smirked and tried to give Hongjoong a fist bump. Hongjoong slapped it away and slumped down on the couch. 

“Hongjoong, you only have one more semester after this one ends,” Wooyoung said, almost pleading. “Go get your guy.”

“Not as long as he’s my teacher,” Hongjoong mumbled.

“You’re no fun,” Wooyoung sighed, flopping on the couch dramatically. His arm landed in Hongjoong’s lap, and Hongjoong batted it away. Unperturbed, Wooyoung continued blithely, “Didn’t I say forbidden romance is the best trope?”

“There's this thing called a conflict of interest,” Hongjoong began, and Wooyoung practically slammed his hand over Hongjoong’s mouth. 

“He could get fired,” Hongjoong tried to say, except with Wooyoung’s hand crushing his mouth, it came out more like “He coo geh fard.”

“Not if you don’t get caught,” Wooyoung said deviously. 

“Why do I tell you anything?” Hongjoong muttered, ripping Wooyoung’s hand off his mouth and falling back onto the couch. 

“’Cause I’m an expert,” Wooyoung said smugly. “I mean, look how me and Sannie turned out.”

“Sannie and I,” Hongjoong corrected him, mumbling. He was exhausted. He let his eyes flutter shut, and Wooyoung smacked him awake. 

“What the hell?” Hongjoong sat upright and glared at Wooyoung, who smiled innocently. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and stomped to his room, where he dramatically flopped onto his stomach on his bed, burying his face in his covers and grinning like an idiot. Seonghwa was gay. Seonghwa had bought him dinner. Seonghwa had given him his coat. Seonghwa had admired him and praised him and called him fascinating. Hongjoong knew he was delusional, and the late hour was only driving his fantasies, but he was beginning to think that he might actually have a chance with his hot professor. 

Hongjoong lifted his face and sniffed the sleeve of Seonghwa’s coat. It smelled just like the cologne that had given Hongjoong butterflies the first time going to Seonghwa’s office hours. Hongjoong buried his face in the coat and actually kicked his feet. Who was he becoming? How could a crush make him act like this?

Hongjoong was in the studio when he got his exam grade back a week later. Thanks to three more lunches of office hours, he had felt pretty confident about the test, but he still held his breath as he opened the assignment in Canvas. 

94/100. Hongjoong exhaled and did a little fist pump. He checked the time, then packed up his stuff and practically ran out.

Ten minutes later, sweaty and out of breath, he knocked on Seonghwa’s office door. “Come in,” came Seonghwa’s clear voice. Hongjoong took a deep breath before opening the door. 

Seonghwa glanced up from his laptop (he was wearing those damn glasses), and his face lit up. “Hongjoong! Excellent job on the exam!”

“Thanks,” Hongjoong managed, still slightly breathless, which was exacerbated by being in the same room as Seonghwa. 

“I guess we’ll have to keep doing those lunches,” Seonghwa laughed.

Hongjoong swallowed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They both stayed silent for a second, both slightly smiling, until Hongjoong coughed and broke eye contact.

“Did you come from the studio?” Seonghwa asked, closing his laptop and setting his glasses down. Hongjoong really couldn’t figure out if he preferred Seonghwa with or without glasses. With them, Seonghwa really fit the part of the hot professor, and he just looked so academic. Without, Hongjoong could see the rest of Seonghwa’s breathtaking face in its entirety.

“You know it,” Hongjoong sighed. 

“Anything special you’ve been working on?”

“Nothing that’s ready to listen to.”

“Why?” Seonghwa leaned forward, chin in his hands. Sweet heavens, he was beautiful. His hair was growing out a little, and Hongjoong liked it that way. It curled around his ears and down the nape of his neck. Today, he was wearing a black button-down shirt with a fitted gray blazer that perfectly accentuated his slim figure and slutty little waist. Wait, what the hell? Hongjoong mentally slapped himself. Why in the world was he thinking such things about his professor?

Hongjoong flushed and tugged on his ear. “I can’t figure anything out. I have a tune I've been working on, a beat I've been working on, and lyrics I've been working on, and they don’t work together. But I can’t figure out lyrics and a beat for the initial tune, or lyrics and a tune for the beat I’m working on, yada yada yada.”

Seonghwa tilted his head. “Can I tag along when you go to the studio sometime?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up.

“If it’s very personal or something, feel free to say no—” Seonghwa started. 

Hongjoong laughed. “No, it’s not some super private and important process or anything. It’s just…” What was he trying to say? “It’s embarrassing.” He paused.

Hongjoong didn’t say it, but he was also anxious about what others might think. Hongjoong hanging out so closely with a young professor, eating lunch with him all the time, taking him to the studio, a small room with the two of them all alone… That thought even made his heart flutter. Hongjoong knew there was no denying their chemistry now, and he was worried that it might be obvious to others, too. The question was whether either of them would act on it. Hongjoong didn’t even know if Seonghwa had feelings for him beyond their natural chemistry. 

”I won’t judge,” Seonghwa promised. 

Hongjoong swallowed. “Sure. You can come along. When are you next free?”

“I can be free now,” Seonghwa said, standing up from his desk. He strode over to the coatrack next to the door to grab his jacket, and Hongjoong followed. 

Seonghwa slipped his coat on and turned around. Hongjoong hadn’t realized how closely he had been following. Seonghwa was a few inches taller, so right now, Hongjoong’s nose was about six inches away from Seonghwa’s chin. Heart pounding, Hongjoong glanced up at Seonghwa, who held his gaze steadily for a few seconds, his eyes soft. Hongjoong broke first. Biting his lip, he walked quickly to the door, eyes directed at the ground. They left the office in silence. 

The recording studio was a tiny room with producing equipment, a keyboard, and a gigantic soundboard separated from the actual recording booth by a glass window. Seonghwa was taking everything in, turning his head every which way. Hongjoong had to cover his smile.

“My home away from home… away from home,” Hongjoong said, vaguely gesturing to the room as a whole.

Seonghwa laughed at Hongjoong’s terrible joke, and Hongjoong felt a smile teasing at his own lips at the sound. 

“Is there anything you’ve been working on that you’d feel comfortable sharing with me? Or would you rather just have me be a fly on the wall?” Seonghwa perched on the arm of the couch that barely fit between the producing equipment and the wall. 

“There’s nothing really good I've been working on. So you can just observe if you’d like.” Hongjoong touched his ear. “Am I taking time that you should be using for other stuff, like grading?”

Seonghwa shook his head emphatically. “This is when I usually have office hours, and no one signed up for today. So I’m all yours for the next—” he checked his watch “—two hours.” He smiled up at Hongjoong, who had to duck his head to hide his blush. I’m all yours. 

Hongjoong sat on the chair at the production desk and put on his headphones, then took them off so Seonghwa could hear too. 

For the next two hours, Hongjoong switched between two songs he’d been working on. Then he moved from producing to composing, sitting at the keyboard with staff paper as he worked out the melody for a piano piece he was working on. Seonghwa sat and watched and listened the entire time, never going on his phone or leaving the room. 

Eventually, Seonghwa stood up to leave. Hongjoong stood up too, rolling his stiff neck around. 

“I have to go teach Psych Stats now,” Seonghwa said apologetically and leaned in, his cologne making Hongjoong’s pulse flutter. “Just between you and me, I’d rather stay here,” he whispered. 

Hongjoong laughed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear. 

“I hope I wasn’t too distracting,” Seonghwa continued. 

“No no no, of course not.” Hongjoong paused. “Actually, I think that was the most productive I've been in a while.” He grinned up at Seonghwa. “So thanks.”

For a second, Seonghwa looked almost taken aback, and Hongjoong worried if he had said something off-putting. But then Seonghwa’s eyes softened as he smiled down at Hongjoong. He laid a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. The touch felt searing. 

“Glad to be of assistance,” Seonghwa said, squeezing before removing his hand. Hongjoong’s shoulder suddenly felt cold. His cheeks were burning, but thankfully, Seonghwa was already turning away. 

“Let me walk you out,” Hongjoong said quickly, squeezing past Seonghwa to grab the door. The narrow space felt even tighter as he brushed against Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s cologne yet again filled Hongjoong’s nostrils, and Hongjoong’s hand accidentally brushed Seonghwa’s waist as he slid past. Hongjoong inhaled through his teeth and opened the door.

Office hours over lunch became a weekly occurrence.

Hongjoong wasn’t even struggling in the class anymore. Something had finally clicked. He now had a B plus in the class, verging on an A minus. And Seonghwa knew that, because he was the one grading. But still, every Wednesday from 12–1, they met at the library café for lunch, and Seonghwa always insisted on buying, to the point that Hongjoong had given up trying to resist. And every week, Hongjoong brought something that he was having trouble understanding, but more often than not nowadays, he had to just make something up. 

It was late November now, almost finals week.

“How are you feeling about the final?” Seonghwa asked just as Hongjoong bit into his grilled cheese. Hongjoong covered his mouth and held up a finger to signal just a second. Seonghwa laughed. “Sorry, sorry, take your time.”

Hongjoong swallowed and tilted his head. “Honestly, I’m feeling pretty okay about the final. Better than any of my other classes, anyway.”

Seonghwa nodded. “You’ve improved a lot.” He smiled warmly. Hongjoong felt the butterflies in his stomach start to take off. He took another huge bite of his grilled cheese.

“What would you think about continuing these lunches next semester?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong nearly choked but managed to finish chewing and swallow. He thought for a second, then smiled. “I’d like that.”

Seonghwa smiled and nodded. Today, he was actually wearing a black button-down, sleeves cuffed, under a suit vest, which was a personal weakness of Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong couldn’t look away from him, his eyes drinking him in like he was dying of thirst, and Seonghwa was an oasis in the desert.

Hongjoong was a mess.

Later that day, in class, Hongjoong could not pay attention. Not with Seonghwa pacing at the front of the lecture hall as he explained what was on the slides. That damn vest. 

Hongjoong had come to realize that Seonghwa had a very hostile-looking resting face that tended to scare students (himself included, initially), but that didn’t reflect his true personality at all. Seonghwa took the subject matter very seriously, but outside of the classroom, he seemed to be a whole different person.

Hongjoong scribbled something down from the slides and went back to staring at Seonghwa: at his hands, which were gesturing as he explained basic principles of humanism; at his hair, swooping perfectly over his brow; at that vest that accentuated his slender frame.

Yes, Hongjoong was a mess.

Hongjoong felt a sharp pain in his side and turned to see Yunho, his desk neighbor, elbowing him.

“You good?” Yunho whispered.

Hongjoong blinked and blushed. “Yeah,” he mumbled, returning to his notes.

“You’re just spacing out a lot,” Yunho said, leaning over.

“I might be getting sick,” Hongjoong lied, rubbing his temples.

“Do you need to go to the health center?” Yunho asked.

Hongjoong shook his head. “I’ll take some Vitamin C or something,” he mumbled.

Yunho suddenly reached over, touching Hongjoong’s forehead with the back of his hand. Hongjoong jumped and leaned away, but Yunho leaned over him, keeping his hand on Hongjoong’s forehead for a good three or four seconds before returning to his place.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hongjoong hissed.

“You feel kind of warm,” Yunho whispered back.

Hongjoong’s eyes darted to the front of the room, where Seonghwa was looking up at the two of them, still lecturing but standing stock still. Hongjoong flushed and grabbed his pencil, scrawling down something from the slides.

“I can walk you to the health center after class,” Yunho whispered.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hongjoong whispered back. Anything to get Yunho off his back.

As soon as class was over, Hongjoong started to pack up his bag, but Yunho practically pushed him away and started doing it for him.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “I’m not dying,” he snapped, grabbing his bag. 

Yunho rolled his eyes right back at him and laid a hand on Hongjoong’s elbow as if to help him up. Hongjoong shook him off, but then a wave of dizziness overtook him. He sank back into his chair. 

Now Yunho looked genuinely worried, brows knit together. “Hongjoong? You okay?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he managed, but it came out in a mumble. 

Yunho took Hongjoong’s elbows. “I’m gonna help you stand up now, okay? And then we can hop on a shuttle to the health center.”

Hongjoong nodded, closing his eyes. His head was starting to pound. 

“Hongjoong, open your eyes.”

Hongjoong shook his head. 

“Hongjoong?”

This time, the voice was Seonghwa’s. Hongjoong’s eyes shot open, and then he winced from the bright light. Seonghwa was standing next to Yunho, eyes full of concern. Hongjoong managed a smile. “Hi, Seo—er, Dr. Park.”

“I think he’s sick,” Yunho said to Seonghwa. “I wanted to take him to the health center.”

“I’ll take him,” Seonghwa said briskly. “I don’t want you to miss your next class.”

“You sure?” Yunho chewed on his lip. “I’m completely fine with taking him—”

Seonghwa’s lips turned up, not quite a smile, but a rare sight for most students. Yunho looked taken aback but smiled wanly back. 

“I got this,” Seonghwa said, taking Hongjoong’s arm.

Yunho nodded and waved goodbye hesitantly before walking away, looking back at them all the way to the door. 

Seonghwa looked down at Hongjoong. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” Hongjoong mumbled. 

Seonghwa sat down next to him in Yunho’s seat. “Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Achey? Cold”

“Dizzy,” Hongjoong said, putting his head on the desk. “And my head is killlllllling me. And cold, now that you mention it. And Yunho thought I had a fever.” His last few words were slurred as he buried his head in his arms. 

“I’m going to call Campus Safety and see if we can get them to drive you directly to the health center,” Seonghwa said. Hongjoong couldn't see his face, but he gave him a thumbs-up. 

Seonghwa made the call, and by the time he was done, the lecture hall had emptied except for the two of them. He hung up and laid a hand on Hongjoong’s back, rubbing circles. 

“Feels nice,” Hongjoong slurred. 

He heard Seonghwa inhale sharply, but the circles didn’t stop. 

Five minutes passed. Was it five or ten? Or an hour? Hongjoong couldn't tell. At some point, Seonghwa had grabbed his coat from the front of the room and laid it over Hongjoong’s shoulders. It smelled nice, like Seonghwa’s musky cologne. Hongjoong’s mind was tired. 

Seonghwa was now stroking his hair. Hongjoong shivered a little when Seonghwa’s cold hands accidentally touched the nape of his neck. 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa said, removing his hand immediately.

“Noooo, keep going,” Hongjoong mumbled, grasping blindly at the air. His hand hit Seonghwa’s, and he grabbed it tightly, pulling it back to his hair. 

But then Seonghwa stiffened and stood up. His absence left Hongjoong cold. Hongjoong glanced up blearily to see a Campus Safety officer stroll in. 

“Sorry for the delay,” the officer said cheerfully. He bent down to Hongjoong’s level. “Do you think you can make it out to the car?”

Hongjoong nodded and tried to push himself up but fell right back into his seat. 

Seonghwa grabbed one arm and the officer grabbed the other. Hongjoong basically supported zero percent of his own body weight as they hauled him out to the car. 

Hongjoong sat in the backseat, his head resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder as the officer started the car.

“My name’s Mingi,” the officer told them, glancing back at them through the rear-view mirror.

“I’m Dr. Park, and this is Hongjoong, one of my students,” Seonghwa replied.

Mingi nodded in response, and Hongjoong let his eyes flutter shut as Mingi started to chat with Seonghwa.

After another unknown period of time, they arrived at the health center. Seonghwa shook Hongjoong awake. Had he been sleeping? He had no idea what was going on. He was dead on his feet as Mingi and Seonghwa dragged him into the health center and plopped him down in a chair.

“Thanks so much for driving,” Seonghwa said gratefully.

“Anytime,” Mingi replied and paused. “And if you’d ever like to repay me…”

Hongjoong glanced over blearily. Mingi was scribbling something on a scrap of paper… his number?

Mingi handed the paper to Seonghwa, who glanced down and smiled slightly. “Sorry, I’ve already got someone.”

Disappointment flooded Mingi’s features, but he just nodded and did a little salute before turning and exiting.

Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” he said carefully, trying to pronounce the words correctly.

Seonghwa laughed. “I’m not.”

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Seonghwa just smiled and went up to the window.

“Excuse me, do you take walk-ins?” Hongjoong distantly heard Seonghwa ask the receptionist. Hongjoong just closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. 

Hongjoong spaced out until Seonghwa nudged him. A nurse was calling his name. Hongjoong tried to stand up but couldn’t.

Seonghwa helped Hongjoong up, then asked the nurse, “Is it okay if I come back with him?”

“As long as that’s alright with the patient,” the nurse said.

Hongjoong nodded and gave a thumbs up, too tired to speak.

The nurse took his height, weight, and vital signs, then led him back to an examination room, Seonghwa supporting him the whole way.

After the nurse had asked a whole battery of questions, she finally left, saying, “Dr. Kang will be in to see you in a moment.” 

As the door shut, Hongjoong lay down fully on the examination table, closing his eyes. Then his eyes shot wide open as he stared at Seonghwa, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the tiny room.

“Everything okay?” Seonghwa asked, half-standing.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. “Why’d you tell Mingi you’re dating someone?”

Seonghwa laughed and sat back down. “I said I have someone, not that I’m dating someone.”

“Same dif,” Hongjoong mumbled, his eyes drifting closed. “Who is it?”

Seonghwa didn’t answer, and just as Hongjoong was opening his mouth to ask again, there was a knock on the door, and the doctor came in.

“Good afternoon,” Dr. Kang said in an unexpectedly deep voice. “How are we doing today?”

“Not too great,” Hongjoong managed, sitting up with quite a bit of effort.

Dr. Kang hummed and turned to Seonghwa with a polite smile. “And you are?”

“Dr. Seonghwa Park,” Seonghwa said, rising to shake Dr. Kang’s hand. “I’m Hongjoong’s psychology professor. He started feeling unwell in my class, so I brought him here after class had ended.”

Dr. Kang nodded. “That’s very kind of you to go out of your way.”

“Not at all.” Seonghwa sat back down. 

Dr. Kang looked over what the nurse had written down and nodded sagely. “It looks like you might have the flu, young man. Have you had your vaccination?”

“Forgot,” Hongjoong mumbled, staring at the ground. 

“I see. I’ll send the nurse back in here to do a test, but I’m fairly positive you have the flu. And perhaps some dehydration, too. When was the last time you drank water?”

“Um.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes as he tried to recall. “Last night? Or maybe yesterday afternoon?”

Seonghwa made an almost outraged sound.

Dr. Kang asked a few more questions and checked Hongjoong’s lungs and heart before the nurse came back.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes to see the results and prescribe medication if necessary,” Dr. Kang told them as he rose to leave. 

“Perfect. Thank you so much, doctor,” Seonghwa said earnestly. 

The flu test made Hongjoong sneeze uncontrollably, but finally, the nurse took the sample and left the room. It was just him and Seonghwa again. 

After maybe three minutes of silence, Hongjoong turned to look at Seonghwa. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Seonghwa laughed and looked up at the ceiling, then directly at Hongjoong. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

Hongjoong groaned and lay back down on the examination table. He was freezing. He shivered violently. Seonghwa stood up suddenly and laid his coat over Hongjoong, just like earlier. Hongjoong pulled it tightly over himself and mumbled thanks.

After a few more minutes, Seonghwa cleared his throat, clearly unable to stand the silence. “I’ll excuse you from homework until you get better.”

Hongjoong started giggling and couldn’t stop. He buried his face in Seonghwa’s coat but couldn’t hide his shaking shoulders. 

“Hongjoong? Are you okay?” Hongjoong felt Seonghwa’s hand on his shoulder. He reached out from under the coat and grabbed Seonghwa’s hand. Seonghwa held his hand for a split second before dropping it. Hongjoong heard him walk to the other side of the room and peeked out from under the coat. Seonghwa was running his hands through his hair, looking distressed… but delicious. 

Hongjoong felt a glimmer of sense peeking through. You’re feverish. Stop acting like a fool. He closed his eyes and covered his face with the coat again until he heard a knock on the door. 

“It’s the flu!” Dr. Kang said way too cheerfully, like one might say, It’s a girl! or It’s twins! or It’s Christmas!

Hongjoong groaned and pulled the coat off his face, sitting up with no small effort. Seonghwa stood up and moved to help him, but Hongjoong waved him off. 

“I’ll prescribe you some Tamiflu,” Dr. Kang continued. “The local pharmacy delivers students’ meds here, so you should be able to pick it up by the end of the day.”

“I can pick it up for you,” Seonghwa said quietly.

Hongjoong nodded gratefully. 

“Stay hydrated, get some rest, and don’t engage in any strenuous activity. Take ibuprofen or Tylenol as needed.” Dr. Kang helped Hongjoong off the examination table before turning to Seonghwa. “And here’s a prescription for you, too.” He handed Seonghwa a slip of paper and quickly ushered them back out to the waiting room. 

“How far is your apartment from here?” Seonghwa asked Hongjoong as they sat down. 

“Too far,” Hongjoong groaned. 

“I’ll call Campus Safety for another ride, then.”

Hongjoong nodded and sank down in his seat. 

After Seonghwa hung up on the call, Hongjoong turned to look at him. “What was the doctor’s prescription for you?”

Seonghwa retrieved the paper from his pocket and unfolded it. Ten digits (alongside a smiley face) were written inside. The doctor’s phone number. 

Hongjoong started to laugh uncontrollably. Seonghwa was trying not to smile as well. 

“Teach me your ways,” Hongjoong managed, wiping his eyes. “You’ve got everyone throwing themselves at you.”

Seonghwa opened his mouth to say something but then glanced out the window. “The car‘s here.”

Mingi was the driver again, so that made for an incredibly awkward drive to Hongjoong’s apartment. Not that he was really paying attention. His eyes were closed as his head lolled against Seonghwa’s shoulder. Mmm, that cologne.

The car stopped, and Seonghwa helped Hongjoong out before thanking Mingi profusely. 

They took the elevator up to the third floor, and Seonghwa supported Hongjoong all the way to the front door of the apartment. Hongjoong knocked weakly. After about ten seconds, Seonghwa raised his hand to knock again, but then the door swung open to reveal Wooyoung and Jongho. 

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped, but Jongho quickly stepped in front of him. 

“Can you help me get him inside?” Seonghwa said briskly.

Jongho grabbed Hongjoong’s other arm, and he and Seonghwa half-dragged Hongjoong to his bed, Wooyoung trailing behind. 

“I’m Dr. Park,” Seonghwa introduced himself. 

“Oh, we know,” Wooyoung said under his breath. 

Jongho elbowed him sharply, and Wooyoung hissed through his teeth.

“I’m Jongho, and this is Wooyoung. We’re Hongjoong’s roommates,” Jongho replied. 

Seonghwa nodded. They helped Hongjoong into bed, and then Seonghwa turned and shook Wooyoung and Jongho’s hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

There was a pause, and then… “So… what happened here?” Wooyoung asked. 

“He tested positive for the flu. He started feeling unwell in my class, so I accompanied him to the health center.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes drifted shut as Seonghwa and his roommates conversed. Eventually, Seonghwa leaned over his bed. “Feel better, Hongjoong.” Hongjoong’s eyes shot open, but Seonghwa was already leaving. 

As soon as the front door shut, Wooyoung jumped on Hongjoong’s bed. “You have so much explaining to do.”

Hongjoong shook his head wearily. “Doctor says I’m s’posed to rest,” he mumbled. 

Wooyoung began to protest, but Jongho pulled him away. 

“The second you’re feeling even marginally better, we’re talking about this,” Wooyoung threw back as Jongho dragged him out of the room. 

Hongjoong didn’t deign to respond, simply curling up tighter under his covers. 

He still had Seonghwa’s coat. 

Hongjoong didn't know how long he had been asleep when he woke to the sound of Seonghwa’s voice. His ears perked up, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. Then his door opened quietly. 

“Hey, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said softly. “I’ve got the Tamiflu.”

Hongjoong managed to push himself up into a sitting position. Seonghwa was standing hesitantly in the doorway, still wearing that damn vest, holding a brown paper pharmacy bag, and looking like a freaking model.

“Easy,” Seonghwa said, rushing to his side as Hongjoong wobbled for a second. 

He regained his balance, and Seonghwa exhaled before pulling out the bottle of Tamiflu. 

“It’s a pill, so I have some water for you too,” Seonghwa said, holding up a water bottle. 

Hongjoong nodded unsteadily and exhaled.

“Have you been hydrating?” Seonghwa asked, unscrewing the cap of the pill bottle. 

“I’ve been sleeping,” Hongjoong mumbled. 

“I guess that’s a no.” Seonghwa handed Hongjoong the water first, watching as he took a few sips before handing him the pills. 

It took some effort to swallow them, but finally, Hongjoong sagged back into his pillows. 

“Good job,” Seonghwa whispered, placing the pills on his nightstand. “I brought Gatorade too, for electrolytes.”

Hongjoong groaned as Seonghwa eased him back up into a sitting position. Seonghwa uncapped the Gatorade bottle and brought it to Hongjoong’s lips. It dribbled down Hongjoong’s chin, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, embarrassed. Unperturbed, Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s jaw gently and tilted his head back. “You okay?” he whispered. Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. Seonghwa tipped the bottle into Hongjoong’s mouth. Hongjoong managed a few gulps before pushing the bottle away. Seonghwa’s fingers lingered on Hongjoong’s jaw as Hongjoong brought his head back up.

“Good job,” Seonghwa whispered again. He set the Gatorade on the nightstand. “Make sure to stay hydrated. I’ll check in on you tomorrow, mkay?”

“’Kay”, Hongjoong mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut. 

He drifted off to sleep almost instantly as Seonghwa tucked the covers tightly around his shoulders. 

“99.0,” Jongho declared, examining the thermometer.

“Close enough.” Wooyoung tackled Hongjoong, who was already lying down and tried but failed to weakly push him off.

“So why was Seonghwaaaa taking care of you?” Wooyoung said in a sing-song tone.

Exhausted, Hongjoong related everything that had happened.

“He ‘has someone?!’” Wooyoung shrieks when Hongjoong got to that part.

Hongjoong rubbed his eyes and kept going, and Wooyoung shrieked again when Hongjoong told them about Dr. Kang giving Seonghwa his number.

“Maybe that ‘someone’ is you!” Wooyoung shouted when Hongjoong wrapped up his story. 

Hongjoong shook his head wearily. “There’s absolutely no way. I was so embarrassing…” he cringed, thinking about the examination room. 

“But he still came back to take care of you,” Wooyoung reminded him. “Clearly that didn’t push him away.”

Hongjoong shook his head. “Don’t feed my delusions. The semester is almost over. I can’t get distracted.”

“Yes you can,” Wooyoung cooed. “Go let your hot professor distract you.” He made a crude hand gesture, and Hongjoong shoved him away, face burning. 

Jongho had remained silent up until this point, but now he shrugged and said, “It’s worth a shot.”

“It is not!” Hongjoong put his face in his hands. “And in the unlikely event that he is into me, it’s a conflict of interest. We’ve been over this so many times.”

“You definitely have a… vibe going,” Jongho said, gesturing vaguely. “What do you have to lose?”

“A lot,” Hongjoong retorted. “I could get expelled.”

“Then never let anyone find out,” Jongho said, shrugging again.

It was so, so tempting.

“Forbidden romance,” Wooyoung sang.

“Get the hell out of my room,” Hongjoong snapped, throwing a pillow at Wooyoung, who ducked and cheerily flipped Hongjoong off as he backed out of the room.

Exhausted, Hongjoong turned to look at Jongho, who smirked and also exited the room.

Hongjoong lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. It was so easy to picture himself and Seonghwa together outside of a school setting. Getting coffee together every morning… going shopping together… going out to eat together… making dinner together… waking up together… wait, what the hell? Hongjoong actually slapped himself and buried his head in his pillows. But butterflies still whirled around in his stomach. He actually kicked his feet a little too. He disgusted himself.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” Seonghwa said at lunch the next day, biting into his caprese sub.

Hongjoong nodded, swallowing a sip of Dr. Pepper. “Me too.”

Seonghwa laughed. “How come you signed up for two hours of office hours today, though?”

Hongjoong willed his face not to turn bright red as he tugged on his ear and said, “I just need extra help. Since the final is coming up and I missed a few classes and all.”

Seonghwa nodded in understanding. “Sounds good.”

At the end of their lunch, they walked to Seonghwa’s office together, Hongjoong’s heart thudding in his chest in anticipation of what he was planning on saying. When they entered the building, he felt his pulse in his fingertips. At the top of the stairs, it had spread to his ears. In Seonghwa’s office, he practically fell into his usual seat.

“You okay?” Seonghwa asked, concern knitting his brow,

Hongjoong nodded, taking long, deep breaths. “Probably still weak from being sick,” he lied.

“We should’ve taken the stairs.” Seonghwa face-palmed. “I’m sorry.”

“Nonono, don’t be sorry.” Hongjoong exhaled and smiled. “See, I’m all better.”

He was not, in fact, all better. He could still feel that tension in his chest. He clenched his fists tightly, nails leaving little crescent moon marks in his palms.

Seonghwa opened the textbook that sat on his ever-tidy desk. “So what’s your biggest area of concern?”

For the next fifty minutes, they reviewed historical figures in psychology, then moved on to neurotransmitters and brain anatomy. Hongjoong was reading and writing and hearing words but not taking any of them in.

“Anything else?” Seonghwa asked, his smile bright.

Hongjoong pictured Wooyoung in his mind’s eye, saying, “Go get your guy,” and making an obscene hand gesture. He blushed but pushed forward.

“Seonghwa, I think…” This was terrible. “I have something to tell you.”

Seonghwa leaned forward on his desk, hands nearly touching Hongjoong’s. “Go on,” he said encouragingly.

Hongjoong swallowed and took his hands off the desk, then shook his head. “Never mind.” He was chickening out.

Seonghwa nodded and sat back, his expression unreadable, then abruptly stood up. “I actually have something to tell you too, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong’s chest was tight, like it might explode.

“I am so glad to have gotten to know you this semester,” Seonghwa began. “You have truly been one of my best students in terms of your work ethic and willingness to improve, and it’s paid off.” He paused and swallowed. “I do hope that past this semester, we can continue to periodically get a meal together and remain… close.”

“I’d like that, too,” Hongjoong said quickly to fill the silence after a few seconds.

Seonghwa nodded, a small smile on his lips that quickly faded as he began to pace. “Hongjoong… It’s been an interesting dynamic to have a student only four years younger than me.” Seonghwa wet his lips. “I guess most of my students aren’t much younger than me, either.”

Hongjoong watched him curiously.

Seonghwa sighed and gave up any semblance of calm. He ran both of his hands through his hair, stopped, and looked directly at Hongjoong. “Hongjoong. I…” He cleared his throat. “What I am trying to say is that I have… developed feelings for you over the past semester.”

Hongjoong choked on air, but Seonghwa kept going, beginning to pace again.

“I know that this is incredibly unethical. But I promise that I would not have shared this if I were not…” Seonghwa took a deep breath. “If I were not convinced that you shared my sentiments.”

Hongjoong felt like he was floating. Like he had left his body and was staring down at the scene unfolding below. 

Seonghwa finally looked Hongjoong in the eye. 

“How—” Hongjoong’s voice came out raspy, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “How long?”

“Since you first came to office hours,” Seonghwa immediately answered. 

Hongjoong nodded. 

After a good ten seconds of silence (which felt like an instant as Hongjoong tried to wrap his head around the fact that Seonghwa liked him Seonghwa liked him Seonghwa liked him), Seonghwa tilted his head. “Well?”

Hongjoong jumped but smiled mischievously. “What would you do if your feelings were not mutual?”

Seonghwa froze, horror crossing his features. 

“Good thing they are,” Hongjoong hurried to say. 

Seonghwa exhaled, shoulders sagging in relief. 

Hongjoong couldn’t look at Seonghwa, though, instead fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

Seonghwa checked to make sure his office door was locked and the blinds on the door were shut before crouching next to Hongjoong’s chair. “This is as far as I had planned,” he confessed.

Hongjoong swallowed and nodded, turning to look at Seonghwa. Instead of making eye contact, though, he stared at Seonghwa’s lips, full and unique and kissable. His eyes darted up to Seonghwa’s intense gaze.

“Can… can I kiss you?” Hongjoong managed, heart beating out of his chest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, Seonghwa nodded.

Hongjoong leaned in, eyes closed, and brushed his lips against Seonghwa’s. They were soft and sticky with lip balm. He pulled away and licked his lips. Cherry.

Seonghwa stared at him, and before Hongjoong could blink, Seonghwa leaned in again, kissing him gently, longer this time. Hongjoong practically felt fireworks going off over his head, and he smiled against Seonghwa’s lips. This was really happening.

Eventually, Seonghwa pulled away. “Holy shit,” he whispered, devouring Hongjoong with his gaze, lips full and rosy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Hongjoong whispered back, standing up from his seat at the desk.

Seonghwa stood up too, and before he knew it, Hongjoong was pushed up against the desk, Seonghwa’s hands on both sides, caging him in. Hongjoong smirked up at Seonghwa, who looked abashed for a split second before pushing closer a few inches. Hongjoong leaned in eagerly, and Seonghwa leaned back; it was his turn to smirk tauntingly at Hongjoong now. After a few seconds, Hongjoong lost his patience. He placed his hands on Seonghwa’s shoulders, pulling him down to his level, and met Seonghwa’s lips with his own.

“Shit,” Seonghwa whispered against Hongjoong’s mouth, kissing him more fervently now. Hongjoong’s lips parted slightly, and Seonghwa took that as his cue to swipe his tongue over Hongjoong’s lower lip before biting gently. Hongjoong let out a heavy exhale, moving his hands to Seonghwa’s waist—that slutty little waist—

There was a knock on the door.

“Shit,” Seonghwa hissed, practically leaping away from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong looked around frantically before grabbing his bag.

“You look suspicious,” Seonghwa whispered urgently. “Your lips are all red and shit. Here—” he shoved a paper at Hongjoong “—pretend you’re taking a make-up exam or something. Do you have a mask?”

“Why the hell would I have a mask?” Hongjoong hissed, falling into the desk by the window.

Seonghwa dug through his desk drawers before finally grabbing an N95 mask. He shoved it at Hongjoong, who quickly put it on and bent his head over his “exam,” ears burning.

Seonghwa smoothed his hair and clothes and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

“Hi, uh, Dr. Park?”

Hongjoong’s head snapped up. Yunho was standing at the door. 

“Come in, Yunho,” Seonghwa said with a rare smile. 

Yunho glanced over at Hongjoong curiously before following Seonghwa in and sitting down in front of his desk—the same desk Seonghwa had just had Hongjoong pushed up against. Thank God Hongjoong’s mask hid his flushed cheeks and lips. 

“I signed up for office hours from 2-3, but if you’re still working with Hongjoong, I can come back,” Yunho said. 

“No need. Hongjoong is just finishing up his, ah, homework,” Seonghwa lied smoothly. 

Hongjoong took a deep breath before standing up from the desk. “All done. I’ll email you if I have any questions, Dr. Park.”

“Sounds good. Take care, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong nodded, not trusting his voice, and left the room, making sure the door was closed and the halls were clear before sprinting through the building, fueled by his ecstasy and anxiety. 

Seonghwa had kissed him. Dr. Park had kissed him. His crush had kissed him—

Hongjoong couldn't keep the grin off his face as he slid down the banister all the way down three flights of stairs. 

“Holy shit,” Wooyoung said over and over as Hongjoong recounted that day’s “office hours.”

The “holy shit”s became increasingly louder as Hongjoong described the kiss. 

“Absolutely fucking insane,” Wooyoung whispered when Hongjoong had finished. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “Tell me about it.”

“If Yunho hadn’t come in, would anything else have happened?” Wooyoung said deviously. “I mean, he had you pushed up against a freaking desk—”

“No, nothing else would have happened!” Hongjoong snapped. “I’m not fucking my professor on his desk moments after he confesses his somewhat unethical feelings for me.”

Wooyoung had no shame, still grinning like the little shit he was as Hongjoong hurled a pillow at him. 

“So what now?” Jongho asked. 

Hongjoong sighed. “I have no idea. I didn’t think of anything past this point.”

“I can’t believe you went in there planning to confess to him and chickened out, and then he confessed to you,” Jongho marveled. 

Hongjoong shook his head and buried his face in a nearby couch cushion to hide his stupid grin. 

“Hongjoong’s in looooove,” Wooyoung sang, and Hongjoong jumped up and tackled him, sitting on his chest on the couch even as Wooyoung shrieked like a little kid. 

“Neither of you can ever tell anyone about this, or I will send you to an early grave,” Hongjoong threatened, pointing at Jongho and poking Wooyoung in the ribs. 

“Got it,” Wooyoung said in a strained voice. “Get off me now, please.”

Hongjoong released him, and Wooyoung collapsed dramatically on the carpet, flopping like a dead fish. 

Hongjoong left him there to perish and went to his room, jumping on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He touched his lips, lips that had kissed Dr. Seonghwa Park. Lips that were now smiling uncontrollably. 

Oh, he was in trouble. 

“What do you want to do about—” Seonghwa gestured between the two of them “—this?”

They were back at the 24-hour diner, literally wearing disguises in case any students or faculty happened to be at Martha’s Diner and Desserts at 1 in the morning.

Hongjoong wet his lips. “I… I want to pursue something. Really badly,” he admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s feasible.”

Seonghwa took a sip of his tomato soup and swallowed before replying. “Anything’s possible if you want it badly enough.”

Hongjoong sat back and looked at Seonghwa. He looked so different right now: hair tucked into a black beanie under a baggy army green hoodie, wearing his gorgeous half-rim glasses… Ugh, he was beautiful.

“I do want it badly enough,” Hongjoong found himself saying. 

Seonghwa smirked, and Hongjoong melted. “Then let’s do it. Let’s date.”

“We have to be careful,” Hongjoong said urgently.

“Don’t tell anyone, then.” Seonghwa sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. He’d become more relaxed and cocky around Hongjoong since their first kiss, and it was hot as fuck.

“I already told my roommates. But don’t worry, they’re cool,” Hongjoong hurried to say. “They’re literally my best friends. I swore them to secrecy.”

“That’s fine. If anything, that’s actually perfect. That means we don’t have to sneak around if we want to hang out at your place.”

“True,” Hongjoong breathed, imagining the things Seonghwa might want to do “at his place.”

Clearly, Seonghwa was imagining the same thing, because he dropped his cool facade, face flushed as he looked away. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes. 

Eventually, Seonghwa finished his soup and set down his spoon. “So we need to set some guidelines.”

Hongjoong shoved down the rest of his sandwich and washed it down with a swig of his Dr. Pepper. “Like what?” he managed once he’d swallowed. 

Seonghwa paused. “I’m not sure. I just know that we should.”

Hongjoong exhaled and put his face in his hands.

“We can still keep doing weekly lunches,” Seonghwa said. “Even next semester, when I’m not your professor anymore, I can act like your mentor or something.”

Hongjoong lifted his face from his hands to look at Seonghwa. “I mean, yeah, weekly lunches would be great to just be able to see you. But it would feel like an act. It would feel superficial. It wouldn’t really feel like I was spending time with you because we would be playing the role of mentor and mentee, not… boyfriends.” The word slipped out before he could stop himself.

The corner of Seonghwa’s mouth twitched. “Is that what we are?”

Groaning, Hongjoong put his head in his arms on the table. 

Seonghwa laughed, and Hongjoong felt a hand playing with his hair. 

“We can be,” Hongjoong said, his voice muffled. He was surprised by his own straightforwardness.

Hongjoong couldn’t see Seonghwa’s face, but he heard the smile in Seonghwa’s voice: “Boyfriends it is, then.”

Hongjoong caught Seonghwa’s hand, clasping their fingers before lifting his head. “I want to be able to get a meal with my boyfriend and not have to pretend to be someone else.”

Seonghwa smiled sadly, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “We can’t lie to ourselves, Hongjoong. We probably can’t go public with our relationship at least until after you graduate.”

A pit formed in Hongjoong’s stomach, and he let his head fall back to the table.

“So, yes or no to mentor lunches?”

“Yes, I guess,” Hongjoong grumbled.

A pause, and then Seonghwa asked, “Do you want to go back to one of our places? To keep discussing,” he added quickly. “I wasn’t trying to make a move.”

Hongjoong smirked. “I mean, you could make a move. If you wanted to. We are boyfriends, after all.”

Seonghwa’s smile made Hongjoong want to melt.

“Not tonight,” Seonghwa said. “But I’m glad the offer is open.”

He paid for their meal before Hongjoong could object, and back in the car, he leaned over to kiss Hongjoong on the cheek before they sped away.

They ended up at Seonghwa’s apartment. Hongjoong had never been there before, and he couldn’t keep his awe contained, because this place had to be expensive.

“My parents are very supportive,” Seonghwa explained, noticing Hongjoong’s gaping jaw. 

“I thought my parents were ‘supportive’ just for allowing me to go to music school,” Hongjoong muttered, taking in the huge living room that opened to a full balcony.

Seonghwa just laughed and took out a couple of wine glasses. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Ah, no thanks,” Hongjoong said quickly. “I have class tomorrow.”

Seonghwa shrugged. “So do I.” He poured a couple of glasses of wine and slid one across the kitchen island to Hongjoong.

“You also have to drive me back later,” Hongjoong said, staring pointedly at the other glass in Seonghwa’s hand.

Seonghwa shrugged again and took a sip. “Not if you stay the night.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of Hongjoong’s lungs. He felt his face turning scarlet as he stared at Seonghwa, who started laughing. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you, Hongjoong! It’s just more practical for you to sleep over, and I’ll drive us both to campus in the morning.”

Hongjoong took a deep breath and shook his head but smiled. “Sure. Sounds great to me.” He took a sip of the wine. He usually preferred beer, and this wine looked way too fancy for his taste anyway, but he wanted to please Seonghwa.

Seonghwa gave him a tour of the apartment: an enormous living room with reclining leather sofas, a massive mounted TV, and shelves full of books and knick-knacks; the adjacent open kitchen with shiny silver appliances, a huge granite island, and a minibar (!!!); and, of course, the bedroom, with a ridiculous four-poster bed and the fluffiest bedding Hongjoong had ever seen, along with a luxurious attached bathroom.

“Why do you have a freaking hot tub in your bathroom?” Hongjoong demanded as Seonghwa dragged him back to the living room.

Seonghwa shrugged helplessly. “It’s just there?”

They sat on one of the sofas, and Seonghwa refilled their wine glasses. Hongjoong sank into the plush leather, sighing contentedly, and rested his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa leaned his head on top of Hongjoong’s and slung an arm around him, hand resting on his waist. Hongjoong tried not to shiver but did not succeed. He felt Seonghwa’s cheeks rising in a smile atop his head. 

“Cold?” Seonghwa asked, trying to grab a throw blanket that was just out of reach. He started to stand up, but Hongjoong grabbed his hand and tugged him down.

“No,” Hongjoong murmured, returning to their previous position.

Seonghwa moved his hand from Hongjoong’s shoulder to his hair, playing with it idly. Hongjoong shivered again, and Seonghwa walked his fingers down from Hongjoong’s hair to the nape of his neck. Hongjoong buried his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder. Oh, that cologne. Dammit, even these small things were making Hongjoong completely fall apart.

“So we said yes to weekly lunches,” Seonghwa said, returning to toying with Hongjoong’s hair, a smile audible in his voice.

Hongjoong nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“So is that how we should treat each other in public in general? As mentor and mentee?”

“That’s probably the only way that won’t rouse suspicion,” Hongjoong managed, removing his face from Seonghwa’s shoulder but letting his head remain resting there.

“How do you want to hang out outside of school? Should we go on dates? Should we just hang out at one of our places?” Seonghwa’s hand slipped from Hongjoong’s hair down his back to rest on his waist.

“Ah…” Hongjoong was finding it hard to think. And Seonghwa was barely even doing anything! The alcohol probably wasn’t helping, either.

“I’m thinking we can try to go out to dinner or a movie or something maybe every two weeks,” Seonghwa continued. “And we should probably hang out at my place more, just because it’ll look weird for me as a professor to constantly be sneaking in and out of a campus apartment.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Speaking of movies, what kinds of movies do you like?” Seonghwa asked, his thumb lazily stroking Hongjoong’s waist.

“Ah… anything is fine.” Hongjoong stared straight ahead and willed himself not to shiver or do anything to give away how flustered he was.

“You’re distracted,” Seonghwa said, amused.

“Yeah, well, you’re distracting,” Hongjoong muttered.

Seonghwa removed his head from atop Hongjoong’s, and Hongjoong turned to look at him. Seonghwa had an adoring look in his eyes, and Hongjoong only knew that because he always looked at Seonghwa the exact same way. 

Seonghwa’s hand slipped across Hongjoong’s lower back to the other side of his waist. He turned to fully face Hongjoong and raised his other hand to brush Hongjoong’s hair out of his face. Hongjoong couldn’t look him in the eye. Seonghwa then tilted Hongjoong’s chin up to look at him and wordlessly leaned in to softly brush their lips together. He pulled away, hovering close until Hongjoong lost his patience and met him halfway. He braced himself by holding onto Seonghwa’s shoulders. Seonghwa accommodated by leaning downward, his other hand now tangled in Hongjoong’s hair.

They kissed almost hungrily. Hongjoong was learning that Seonghwa had a thing for biting—and he didn’t mind. When Seonghwa bit down on Hongjoong’s lower lip, Hongjoong succumbed to him, moaning softly into his mouth. When Seonghwa began to trail kisses down Hongjoong’s jaw and nipped at the skin on his neck, Hongjoong let him, angling his head to give Seonghwa more room to work.

A minute later, Seonghwa pulled away, took a look, and smirked. “You’re gonna have to wear a turtleneck for the next couple of days.”

“Seonghwaaaa,” Hongjoong whined, but he didn’t actually mind. He leaned in and kissed Seonghwa briefly on the lips again, which was the only cue Seonghwa needed to pull Hongjoong flush against himself and hook a leg around his torso, kissing him deeper now. Mmm, cherry.

Hongjoong was happy with just kissing, though. Even as they traveled to a horizontal orientation on the couch, they never went further than kissing. 

After what could’ve been five minutes or five hours, Seonghwa pulled away. “We should really get some sleep,” he whispered. 

Hongjoong hated and loved how hot Seonghwa sounded—and how right he was. “Don’t wanna,” he whined, grabbing Seonghwa by his hoodie and pulling him back down.

Seonghwa kissed him forcefully for a few seconds before pulling back, yanking Hongjoong up with him. 

“You can sleep in my bed,” Seonghwa said, dragging Hongjoong to the bedroom.

“I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” Hongjoong protested.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “Who said you’re kicking me out?”

So fifteen minutes later, they were lying in bed side by side, lights out, but Hongjoong was still wide awake. He abruptly rolled over to face Seonghwa, who was already staring at him. Hongjoong jumped, and Seonghwa apologized, laughing.

Seonghwa was still beautiful in the darkness. Hongjoong could just make out the outline of his features by the moonlight streaming past the curtains. His hair was still mussed and his lips still swollen from their kissing earlier. His eyes were wide and dark as he stared at Hongjoong, who eventually lost his patience and leaned in.

Seonghwa instead met Hongjoong’s lips with his finger. “No more,” he said teasingly. “We really do need to sleep—”

Hongjoong shoved Seonghwa’s finger aside and kissed him pertly on the lips before turning over dramatically and pulling the covers over his head, blushing in the darkness.

“Good night, Hongjoong,” he heard Seonghwa say, barely concealed laughter in his voice.

Hongjoong pretended to ignore him, but his thoughts were only of Seonghwa as he finally drifted off to sleep.

“Just drop me off here on the sidewalk,” Hongjoong urged, keeping an eye out for passersby or other students.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa’s brow knitted. “I don’t want you to have to walk too far—”

“And I don’t want you to be seen dropping a student off after a night spent at your apartment. I can walk. I have legs. Just drop me off here.”

Seonghwa sighed and pulled up to the curb. Hongjoong glanced around in all directions before hopping out of the passenger side with his bag.

“See you in class,” he called, jogging down the sidewalk, blowing a kiss when he was certain absolutely nobody else could see.

His apartment really wasn’t that far away. About five minutes later, he was taking the elevator up, catching his breath after the jog. 

It was about 8 am, so Jongho would be in class, but Wooyoung pounced on him the minute Hongjoong entered the apartment.

“Did you fuck?” were lovely words to be greeted with first thing in the morning.

“Of course not,” Hongjoong snapped, shoving Wooyoung away and slamming the door.

Unshaken, Wooyoung practically bounced alongside Hongjoong. “Then what did you do?”

“Kissed,” Hongjoong mumbled, walking quickly to his bedroom.

Wooyoung slid in behind him before Hongjoong could slam the door in his face. “Was it good kissing?”

Hongjoong nodded shortly but could not stop the grin that spread across his face. He covered his mouth with his hand, but Wooyoung noticed and crowed, “You’re so in love with him.”

“Shut up,” Hongjoong growled, but he was still hiding his smile. “We’ve only been boyfriends for, like, seven hours now.”

Then he could have kicked himself, because Wooyoung screeched, “You asked him to be your boyfriend?!”

“Why do I tell you literally anything, ever?” Hongjoong muttered. “And… yeah, sort of.”

Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong forcefully on the back. “My mastermind plan is unfolding perfectly.”

“Your mastermind plan?” Hongjoong scoffed and set his bag down in front of his desk before flopping onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut involuntarily.

“I told you to get the guy, and that’s what’s happening, isn’t it?” Wooyoung jumped on the bed next to Hongjoong, who groaned and just turned over.

“I’m gonna nap,” Hongjoong mumbled. “I don’t have class until psych at 3.”

“He really made you work, huh?”

Hongjoong sat bolt upright and shoved Wooyoung’s face into a pillow. Cackling, Wooyoung jumped off the bed and dashed to the door, but then stopped in his tracks and practically squawked, “IS THAT A HICKEY?!”

“LEAVE!” Hongjoong shouted, and Wooyoung ducked out the door, laughing his ass off. Hongjoong lay back with a sigh. He set an alarm so he wouldn’t sleep through class, and he quickly fell asleep again with a slight smile on his face.

The last office hours lunch of the semester. The final exam was later that afternoon.

“Honestly, I’m pretty confident about the exam,” Hongjoong told Seonghwa as they began to dig into their food. “You’ve been incredibly helpful. Genuinely, I can’t thank you enough.”

Seonghwa smiled and swallowed a sip of water. “And you’ve been an incredibly hard worker.”

Hongjoong looked down at his lap to hide his blush. Not just because of Seonghwa’s words, but also because of… Seonghwa. He looked incredible today, just like he did every day. Today, he was wearing a white button-down under a navy blazer, and his hair was immaculately styled, sweeping artfully over his brow. But beyond that, he just had a light in his eyes that made Hongjoong want to simultaneously giggle and kick his feet but also curl up in a ball and die out of sheer adoration.

“Are there any last-minute questions you need answered before the exam?” Seonghwa asked.

“Not unless you want to give me the test answers,” Hongjoong joked.

Seonghwa laughed and leaned in, the musk of his cologne wafting with him. “Our relationship benefits don’t extend quite that far, Hongjoong,” he whispered teasingly.

Hongjoong choked on his Dr. Pepper, and his head whirled around, making sure no one was listening.

Seonghwa was smiling blithely, and Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

“You still signed up for two hours of office hours, though,” Seonghwa said. “Was there… something else you had in mind?”

Hongjoong bit his lip. “You could say that.”

They finished their meal quickly and walked to Seonghwa’s office in record time. No sooner had Hongjoong shut the door behind them than Seonghwa practically slammed him against the wall behind the desk. Hongjoong gasped and grabbed Seonghwa’s shoulders to pull him down to his level. Instead, Seonghwa picked Hongjoong up, allowing him to curl his legs around his waist before he had Hongjoong up against the wall again, this time at eye level. Hongjoong practically dove for Seonghwa’s lips, but after a few seconds, Seonghwa pulled away, smirking slightly. “You signed up for two hours of this?”

Hongjoong stared down at the floor, then up at Seonghwa. “Shut up,” he mumbled, silencing Seonghwa with his lips.

Hongjoong had indeed needed to wear a turtleneck for the past few days, and now, as they kissed, Seonghwa tugged it down, kissing his way down Hongjoong’s neck.

“You’re so good at this,” Hongjoong gasped as Seonghwa nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“You make it easy,” was all that Seonghwa said before returning to the task at hand.

When he was thoroughly satisfied with his handiwork, Seonghwa returned to kissing Hongjoong on the mouth, sloppy and wet but delicious. He still tasted like cherries. Hongjoong could do this forever. 

Seonghwa moved to seat Hongjoong on the desk, and they kept kissing, Seonghwa beginning to lean over him.

There was a knock at the door.

“Shit!” Seonghwa hissed, leaping away from Hongjoong, who fell on his back on the desk without Seonghwa holding him up. He sat up as quickly as possible, but he didn’t have time to hide or even move from the desk before Yunho’s head peeked into the office with a soft “Dr. Park?”

Yunho’s eyes widened when he saw Hongjoong, and his eyes darted back and forth between Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“Er, I’ll come back later,” Yunho said, closing the door quickly.

Seonghwa grabbed the door and flung it open. “Yunho! Come back!”

There was no response, and Seonghwa shut the door and turned to Hongjoong, shoulders sagging.

“We’re fucked,” Hongjoong said, placing his head in his hands.

“This is my fault,” Seonghwa muttered, beginning to pace. “I was too… impatient to be careful, to lock the door, to…”

“It’s just as much my fault as it is yours,” Hongjoong said quickly, rubbing his temples.

“I should probably start packing up my things,” Seonghwa said after a minute.

“I can ask him not to tell anyone,” Hongjoong said, but it sounded lame, and Seonghwa shook his head.

“He has every reason to report me,” Seonghwa said, helping Hongjoong off the desk and beginning to pull books off the bookshelves. “I can only hope that there are no consequences for you.”

Hongjoong’s head spun in panic. “I can’t… you can’t… this can’t be happening.” He sat down on the carpet against the very wall Seonghwa had had him shoved up against earlier.

Seonghwa shrugged helplessly. “It can and it is.”

Hongjoong actually felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He looked up at Seonghwa, whose jaw was set firmly as he placed his books in a cardboard box. 

“This is all my fault,” Hongjoong said quietly. “If I could’ve kept it in my fucking pants—”

“No, it’s my fault.” Seonghwa shook his head and gently placed his Lego bonsai tree in a separate box.

“No, it’s—” Hongjoong stopped and put his face in his hands. “This won’t get us anywhere. I’ll just text Yunho—”

“Text him what? ‘Sorry I got caught making out with our professor lol please don’t rat us out’?” Seonghwa’s hands formed fists, and he took a deep breath before continuing the task at hand.

Hongjoong ignored him and pulled up Yunho’s contact on his phone. He hit new message.

Hey Yunho, it’s Hongjoong. 

He stopped, because he genuinely didn’t know what to say next.

Please don’t tell

Backspace.

It isn’t what it looks like

Backspace.

You probably have a lot of questions about what you just saw. Please let me explain before you do anything else. Do you want to meet for coffee, or do you just want me to explain over text?

He hit send and set his phone down to watch Seonghwa. 

Since Seonghwa was a new professor, he didn’t have much to pack. His books and Lego decorations were in boxes within half an hour, and he came to sit down next to Hongjoong.

“I don’t regret anything,” Seonghwa said firmly, clasping Hongjoong’s hand.

“I don’t regret… us,” Hongjoong said hesitantly. “But I regret anything… everything I did that has caused you harm.”

“I’ve been a conspirator too,” Seonghwa reminded him. “You did nothing wrong.”

Hongjoong shook his head, and this time, a few tears did actually fall.

“Hongjoong—” Seonghwa stood up and hunted through one of the boxes for a box of tissues, which he handed to Hongjoong before sitting back down. Hongjoong blew his nose roughly and wiped his eyes before burying his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

“Don’t—”

“Your life is ruined, and it’s all because of me.”

“Hongjoong. Look at me.”

Hongjoong slowly lifted his face to look at Seonghwa.

“I don’t regret anything,” Seonghwa repeated firmly. “I’ve made my choices. I can live with their consequences.”

This was no comfort to Hongjoong. He hid his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder again, silently wetting his shirt with tears.

At 2:30, Seonghwa gingerly tried to separate himself from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong had stopped crying long before, but now he clung to Seonghwa’s arm stubbornly.

“Hongjoong, I have to get ready for class,” Seonghwa said wearily. “And so should you. It’s the final exam.”

Hongjoong reluctantly let go and stood up. His legs had long ago fallen asleep, and he shook them out, wincing as the feeling returned.

“It’ll be okay,” Seonghwa whispered, dropping a kiss on Hongjoong’s head before sitting down and opening his computer.

Hongjoong plopped down in a chair by the window and stared out stonily. It was a nice view, he had to admit. Birds perched atop the branches of a huge tree that probably held gorgeous blossoms in spring and leaves in fall. Beyond, he could see the creek that wove around campus, and… it was snowing?

“Seonghwa, it’s snowing,” Hongjoong said quietly.

Seonghwa glanced up and smiled. “I love snow.”

“So do I.” Hongjoong glanced at the clock gloomily. 2:45. “I should probably leave.”

He stood up and slung his backpack over one shoulder. He turned back to Seonghwa. “I’ll see you in there.”

Seonghwa nodded. Hongjoong turned to go, but Seonghwa called, “Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong turned around to find Seonghwa gazing at him adoringly again. This time, he stared right back, taking in all of Seonghwa—his beautiful dark hair, slightly mussed but still artfully swept over his brow and brushing against his white collar in the back; his dark eyes, which softened as he looked at Hongjoong; his full lips, lips that Hongjoong had kissed and loved, lips that were now parting and speaking—

“I love you.”

Hongjoong jumped.

“I know it’s a bit early to say it, but I wouldn’t have done all this if I didn’t love you,” Seonghwa said gently. 

Hongjoong fiddled with his fingers, then smiled sadly back. “I love you too.”

He fled before he could burst into tears.

Yunho arrived at the classroom about two minutes after Hongjoong did. He sat in his regular seat, right next to Hongjoong, and didn’t speak at first. A few minutes later, though, he turned to Hongjoong and opened his mouth to speak—

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Seonghwa said crisply from the front of the lecture hall. “The final exam should be available in Canvas now. It will be taken in a lockdown browser. I will also be able to see if you spend any time outside of the exam window. Remember, this is a closed-book, closed-note exam.” His eyes flitted up to meet Hongjoong’s. “I have full confidence in each and every one of you.” He looked away, scanning the classroom. “You may begin when you are ready.”

Hongjoong exhaled heavily and clicked “Take Quiz.” 

He finished in record time. The multiple-choice had been incredibly easy, and the free-response section hadn’t been a problem either. Office hours with Seonghwa had also paid off academically.

Hongjoong stuffed his computer in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced up to the front of the lecture hall to meet Seonghwa’s eyes. Seonghwa gave him the smallest smile and a nod. Hongjoong returned it and tiptoed around Yunho to make his way to the door.

Yunho tugged on the sleeve of Hongjoong’s hoodie at the last second. Hongjoong whirled around, and Yunho pointed to his own phone, then to Hongjoong, then to himself. Hongjoong’s brows knit together in confusion, but he got the general message. He stumbled out of the lecture hall and sank into a chair in the hallway to wait for Yunho.

Yunho came out about ten minutes later. He glanced around the hallway before his eyes alighted on Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong stood up, suddenly exhausted, and met Yunho halfway.

“Walk with me?” Yunho said.

Hongjoong nodded, and they made their way outside.

Yunho started in the direction of the nature trail that ran parallel to the creek. The two walked side by side, not saying anything for a couple of minutes.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Yunho said, breaking the silence.

Hongjoong’s head whipped around to stare at him.

Yunho shrugged. “It’s none of my business.”

Hongjoong regarded him, confusion marring his features.

“You’re both legal adults. You can make your own decisions. The only thing I was worried about was potential favoritism—”

“I promise there was no favoritism,” Hongjoong said quickly. “Yeah, he kind of tutored me and stuff, but he never showed any bias in grading. I worked hard to improve my grade in that class.”

Yunho nodded, and they walked in silence for another few minutes.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to break the silence, but instead, he shivered violently. It was still snowing, and snowflakes hung on his lashes. He glanced over at the creek, which wasn’t quite frozen yet, but its banks were covered in an inch or two of snow.

“Do you want to go inside?” he managed, pulling his hood over his head.

Yunho glanced over at him and laughed. “Yeah, sure, sorry.”
The library was the closest building, so they headed over and ended up in the same booth where Hongjoong and Seonghwa had shared so many lunches.

“I couldn’t help it, you know,” Hongjoong said as soon as they sat down, unable to keep his mouth shut. “I… liked him from the very first class, and…” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to decide how to phrase his honest thoughts. “I know it’s unconventional, unethical even, but… I care so much about him, and I know he feels the same about me, and even our situation and position as teacher and student couldn’t get in the way of that.” He laughed humorlessly. “I know that sounds cheesy as fuck. I don’t know how to say it to make you understand.”

“I think I understand,” Yunho said quietly.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“I had a… friend in high school who was a couple of years older than me. And both of our parents were incredibly homophobic. When his older brother came out, his parents kicked him out. Basically disowned him. So my friend and I were very wary when we realized our… feelings for each other.” Yunho paused and took a deep breath. “But we went ahead and started dating. We kept it hidden for a good couple of years, even after I started college. And then his parents found out and told my parents. As we could have predicted, his parents kicked him out. He’s basically dead to them. My parents didn’t do that to me, but they did stop funding my education. I’m so deep in debt now for this stupid degree.” 

Yunho paused for a second, blinking rapidly before continuing. “And he and I didn’t even stay together. We broke up in my sophomore year. We’re still on good terms, though. But back then, I truly believed that what we had was worth fighting for. And I don’t regret it now, even though it didn’t end well. Because it taught me to fight tooth and nail for what I loved and held dear. And that’s still something that’s been valuable to me to this day. Funnily enough, he’s a security guard here now. But that’s neither here nor there.”

Hongjoong stared at Yunho, speechless. “I had no idea,” he said after a minute.

Yunho shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Hongjoong exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said after a moment.

Yunho shrugged again. “It’s in the past now.”

After a moment, Hongjoong looked Yunho dead in the eye. “Do you truly not see anything problematic about Seonghwa and me being together?”

“I see how other people could think it’s problematic,” Yunho said carefully. “But to be honest, I kind of support it. Forbidden romance, am I right?” He grinned devilishly.

Hongjoong half-scoffed, half-laughed. “You would get along excellently with my roommate.”

“Your roommate has the right idea, then.” Yunho leaned forward. “Go get your guy.”

“Yeah, I need to introduce you to Wooyoung.” Hongjoong shook his head but smiled. 

“I’m not ratting you out,” Yunho said seriously. “I understand what it’s like to pursue your relationship in fear. I’m not gonna exacerbate that. And just please be careful from now on, because I really, really want you to have a long and happy relationship.” He smiled sincerely at Hongjoong, who exhaled in relief.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” Hongjoong said.

“It’s okay. I know.” Yunho stood up. “I gotta go pack. I’m supposed to drive home tonight.”

“In the snow?”

“Yup.” Yunho grimaced. “Wish me luck.”

Hongjoong shook his head and clapped Yunho on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

“The same to you.”

They left the library and parted ways, waving goodbye. Hongjoong ran across campus to the social studies building, breath forming puffs in the frigid air. His Converse soon became soaked with snow, but he kept running. He didn’t stop even when he entered the warm building, instead sprinting up three flights of stairs to Seonghwa’s office. He didn’t even know if Seonghwa was there or not. It was almost 6 pm. He might have gone home by now.

Hongjoong pounded on the door, but there was no response. He tried the door, which was locked, and the blinds on the door were also shut. Hongjoong’s shoulders slumped, but he shook it off and set off on a brisk jog to his apartment. He texted Wooyoung.

Can I borrow your car?

annoying one

??? why ???

So I can go get my guy.

annoying one

say no more. i’ll come pick u up. where r u?

Almost to the apartment.

Wooyoung’s car pulled up to the curb next to Hongjoong with a very loud honk of the horn about five minutes away from the apartment. Hongjoong threw the passenger door open and collapsed into the seat, panting heavily.

“You look like shit,” Wooyoung said cheerfully, pulling away at a speed far above the campus speed limit before Hongjoong could even fasten his seatbelt.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong muttered.

“Where do you need to go?” Wooyoung ran through a stop sign, much to the annoyance of oncoming traffic.

“I need to get to his apartment.”

“Oooooh,” Wooyoung sang, and Hongjoong ignored him and kept talking.

“The thing is, I don’t know how to get there, I just know how to get here from there. Does that make sense?”

“No, but I’m sure it does in your head.” Without even looking, Wooyoung reached out and patted Hongjoong’s head. Annoyed, Hongjoong slapped his hand away.

At the entrance to campus, Wooyoung pulled to a sharp halt at the stop sign. “Left or right?”

Hongjoong exhaled, trying to recall. “Right, I think.”

Wooyoung turned sharply and sped down the snowy road.

“Careful, it’s slippery,” Hongjoong managed, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the door handle for dear life.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Just tell me where to turn next.”

They made a couple of wrong turns, but eventually, Wooyoung was pulling into the very rich and fancy neighborhood of apartments where Seonghwa lived.

“Take a left right there.”

“Left or right?”

“Left!”

Wooyoung hit the brakes and forced the steering wheel to the left. They spun in the middle of the intersection, both of them screaming, and eventually the car slowed down and was propelled into a snowbank.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Hongjoong muttered, scrambling out of the car.

Wooyoung threw the driver’s door open and ran to the front of the car.

“Nothing’s wrecked, thank GOD,” he called back. “But we are completely and utterly stuck, I fear.”

Hongjoong shook his head, the adrenaline from the experience manifesting itself in hysterical laughter.

Wooyoung ran over, grabbed his shoulders, and started shaking him. “Hongjoong. Get with it. Where does your loverboy live? Maybe he can help.”

“Don’t call him that,” Hongjoong gasped, pointing in the general direction of Seonghwa’s apartment.

It was completely dark outside. Hongjoong and Wooyoung were both shivering as Hongjoong tried to remember which building Seonghwa lived in, and then which floor, and then which number… 

Finally, they ended up in front of Seonghwa’s apartment. Hongjoong raised a hand to knock and hesitated. Wooyoung rolled his eyes, shoved Hongjoong aside, and banged his fist on the door.

Seonghwa opened the door timidly, the chain on it still fastened. He peeked out, and his eyes widened when he saw Hongjoong, who was breathing heavily, soaked in sweat and snow, but glowing at the sight of Seonghwa.

“You look like shit,” Seonghwa breathed, opening the door fully and ushering them both in.

Hongjoong practically leapt at Seonghwa, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa’s neck and resting his head against Seonghwa’s chest. Seonghwa returned the embrace immediately, holding him tightly.

Eventually, Wooyoung cleared his throat loudly. Hongjoong rolled his eyes but pulled away from Seonghwa, whose eyes were glistening slightly.

“Seonghwa. We’re okay.” Hongjoong quickly recounted his conversation with Yunho.

Seonghwa’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he grabbed Hongjoong’s arm. Hongjoong held him steady and took his other hand.

“Listen, we’re okay. We’re gonna be okay. We need to be more careful from now on, but…” Hongjoong couldn’t think of any other words to express his relief, how happy he was to be standing here with Seonghwa with the knowledge that they were safe, they could keep being together…

Seonghwa sniffed, and Hongjoong reached up to wipe a tear from Seonghwa’s perfect, perfect eyes.

Seonghwa pulled him into a tight hug again, and Hongjoong closed his eyes, content to stay in this moment forever…

Wooyoung cleared his throat again.

“Sorry to be a bother, but I kind of wrecked my car trying to get your sugar baby here,” he said unapologetically. “We’re stuck in a snowbank—”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong screeched, and Seonghwa looked both appalled and abashed.

Wooyoung shrugged innocently.

“I’m not a fucking sugar ba—oh, whatever.”

Seonghwa lent Hongjoong a coat that was much better protection against the wind and snow than his thin hoodie (and smelled like Seonghwa, which was a bonus). Wooyoung led the way back to the car. Seonghwa took one look and laughed.

“I don’t know what to do here,” he snorted, shaking his head. “I’m a psychology professor, not a mechanic.”

“Is there someone we can call, at least?” Wooyoung said in annoyance and desperation.

“San literally works at a repair shop,” Hongjoong reminded him, rolling his eyes.

“A repair shop that is currently closed—”

“I’m sure he’ll make an exception for his little loverboy,” Hongjoong crooned, taking a page out of Wooyoung’s playbook. Wooyoung started toward him, fist raised, and Seonghwa moved between them, raising an eyebrow. Wooyoung dropped his fist and bowed his head quickly before calling San.

Not even ten minutes later, San was speeding up to the curb in his truck. He jumped out and greeted Wooyoung with a peck on the lips before quickly attaching the hitch to the back of Wooyoung’s car. The car was freed from the snowbank within a couple of minutes.

“Thanks, baby,” Wooyoung sang, throwing his arms around San’s neck. “You’re the best.”

San hugged him back and kissed him again briefly. He pulled away and said goodbye to them all, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass quickly before Hongjoong could even blink. Wooyoung squawked, and San just grinned, driving off into the cold night.

“I wish that we could be like that,” Seonghwa murmured into Hongjoong’s ear, an arm slung around his shoulders. “Why can’t we be like that?”

Hongjoong sighed and turned to drop a kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek. “Someday.”

Hongjoong decided to stay the night at Seonghwa’s apartment. Wooyoung drove off, leaving them on the curb, but not before whispering some ideas for the night to Hongjoong. Hongjoong had slapped his arm, but now, as he took the elevator up with Seonghwa, he felt a blush creeping up his face and neck. He tugged on his ear nervously. Seonghwa noticed and squeezed his hand.

Back in the apartment, Seonghwa took Hongjoong’s coat like a gentleman. Hongjoong sat on the sofa in the exact spot where they had made out the last time he had been there. Seonghwa soon joined him, and Hongjoong sighed, then slid down so his head was in Seonghwa’s lap.

“I kinda like you a lot,” Hongjoong said, gazing up at Seonghwa’s starry eyes.

Seonghwa laughed, twirling Hongjoong’s hair. “I kinda like you a lot too.”

“I think I kinda love you too,” Hongjoong said. Maybe the cold or his proximity to Seonghwa was giving him more courage than usual. He wanted to hide his face, but he couldn’t, so he covered his eyes with the back of his hand.

Seonghwa removed Hongjoong’s hand and intertwined their fingers gently. “I love you too,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to Hongjoong’s lips.

Hongjoong smiled and pulled Seonghwa down with him.

They didn’t use any of Wooyoung’s ideas, though. They just lay there, exchanging gentle kisses in the warmth of Seonghwa’s living room. Hongjoong had never been happier.

“Hongjoong Kim,” the school president, Kyu-Wook Kim, called.

Hongjoong took a deep breath and strode across the outdoor stage. He shook President Kim’s hand and accepted the diploma case, posing for the pictures he knew his mom was taking before descending the stairs on the opposite side of the stage.

Graduation day. After this, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were basically free to do as they pleased. Seonghwa had advised waiting a month or two before doing anything publicly, and Hongjoong had agreed. But still. After this point, nothing they could do would get Seonghwa fired or Hongjoong expelled. No one could accuse Seonghwa of showing favoritism as a professor or Hongjoong of sucking up to his teacher. 

The professors in attendance were sitting in the front rows of chairs set up on the football field. As Hongjoong reclaimed his seat, Seonghwa turned around and flashed him a blinding smile. Hongjoong smiled back, ear-to-ear, and Seonghwa quickly turned back around, but Hongjoong could still see Seonghwa’s lifted cheeks.

President Kim delivered the charge to the graduates and ended by saying, “It is my honor to present to you this year’s graduating class, the class of 2025.” 

Everyone cheered, and all the grads stood up to prepare for the cap toss.

Hongjoong stood up too, and on the count of three, he threw his cap up in the air, and it landed squarely in Seonghwa’s hands. Hongjoong grinned at him as Seonghwa examined the cap design. Just a few weeks before, as Hongjoong had been procrastinating on studying for finals, he had written a song whose lyrics and beat had come so naturally and logically to him that it didn’t even feel like he was working. It felt like he was just putting his thoughts down on paper. And of course, the song was about Seonghwa, and now it was done, and Hongjoong had made a design for his grad cap with a copy of the sheet music for the song, along with some stickers and charms.

Seonghwa stared down at the cap, then across the swarm of graduates at Hongjoong. Hongjoong grinned at him, and Seonghwa threw the cap back. Hongjoong caught it and blew a kiss to Seonghwa before putting it back on for the procession.

Afterwards, Hongjoong took a billion photos with his family and Wooyoung and Jongho and all his other friends and Yunho, with whom he’d become very close over the past spring semester. Hongjoong and his family were going out to eat afterwards, but he texted Seonghwa to meet him quickly. He excused himself from his group and ran to the restroom in the closest building, the library.

Seonghwa met him there. They did check to make sure the bathroom door was locked, although they only exchanged the briefest of kisses.

“I’m so happy,” Seonghwa whispered, eyes shining.

Hongjoong just hugged him in response, clinging to his neck, wishing he could never let go.

“You’ll have to sing me that song sometime,” Seonghwa murmured in his ear.

“Of course, love.” Hongjoong finally pulled away and ran his hand over Seonghwa’s silky hair. “Anytime. We have all the time in the world.”

Hongjoong had taken a producing job offer nearby. When Seonghwa had heard, he was indignant until Hongjoong insisted that he probably would have taken the offer whether they were together or not. But having Seonghwa so close by was certainly a bonus. They had even decided to move in together (purely for financial reasons, of course). Until they were ready to reveal their relationship to their families, they only presented each other as roommates.

Hongjoong dropped one last kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek before letting go of his hand. He waved goodbye and peeked cautiously outside the bathroom before dashing out.

“What do you want to watch tonight?” Seonghwa asked, sinking into the sofa.

“Mm, whatever you want is fine.” Hongjoong dived onto the couch, ending up with his head in Seonghwa’s lap.

Seonghwa smiled down at him adoringly and stroked his hair. This was familiar. Hongjoong sat up and caught Seonghwa’s jaw gently before leaning in and brushing their lips together softly. Cherries.

Seonghwa suddenly had Hongjoong pinned down on the couch. Hongjoong grabbed the collar of Seonghwa’s sweater and pulled him further down. Seonghwa sucked in a short breath but met Hongjoong’s lips almost viciously. Hongjoong gasped for air when he could get it.

Seonghwa braced himself with his forearm on the armrest of the couch above Hongjoong’s head. With his other hand, he traced lines back and forth with his thumb on Hongjoong’s stomach under his hoodie. Hongjoong inhaled sharply and clung to Seonghwa’s shoulders like he might never let go. They kept kissing, sometimes slowly and sweetly and sometimes hungrily and deeply. 

Eventually, they curled up together against the armrest. Seonghwa couldn’t stop dropping soft kisses on Hongjoong’s hair. Hongjoong snuggled into Seonghwa as close as humanly possible.

“I love you,” Hongjoong whispered.

“I know.”

At Hongjoong’s pleading gaze, Seonghwa laughed and whispered back, “I love you too.”

Hongjoong closed his eyes contentedly. “I’m yours,” he mumbled sleepily.

Seonghwa just kissed his hair again and whispered it back.