Archive of Our Own

The English teacher and the literature teacher were in a secret relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t something completely obvious to everyone, but in the noisy school hallways and crowded classrooms, they always managed to pass messages between themselves: little papers folded into quarters, makeshift envelopes torn from notebooks, notes that vanished into folders or jacket pockets.

"Can you give this note to Professor Kim? Just don’t read it, please."

Most students obeyed without question. It was normal for teachers to exchange notes about work matters: meetings, schedule changes, exams, school activities. No one suspected much… no one, except for one student whose curiosity got the better of her one day.

When Professor Jeon handed her the paper, she held it between her fingers for only a few seconds while walking down the hallway toward the English classroom. At first, she didn’t think about opening it, but the way it was folded, the neat handwriting on the front, and the teacher’s slightly nervous expression stirred something inside her.

She felt an impulse and glanced both ways. No one was nearby. Carefully, she unfolded the note. There were only three words written in elegant, flowing cursive: I love you. Her stomach fluttered with excitement.

She almost laughed, almost let out a surprised sound, but she clapped a hand over her mouth and quickly folded the paper again, as if the note itself might give her away. She walked the rest of the hallway with her heart beating faster than usual.

She couldn’t completely hide her smile. But when she reached the English classroom, she pretended to be annoyed. She frowned slightly, puffed out her cheeks a bit, and held out her arm.

"Professor Jeon sent you this note," she said, trying to sound serious.

Professor Kim looked up from his desk. He took the paper carefully, as if it were something fragile, and the moment he recognized the handwriting, his lips curved into a shy, almost imperceptible smile. He nodded in thanks and slipped the note inside a thick book that lay open on his desk.

From that moment on, the student became much more observant. She started noticing things that would’ve gone unnoticed before.

How they always had lunch together, sitting across from each other in the staff room, leaning over the table to talk quietly. Sometimes Professor Jeon discreetly pushed over whatever he didn’t feel like finishing: a half-eaten apple, part of his sandwich, the fries left on his tray.

And other times, if there was only one strawberry-flavored drink left in the fridge and the literature teacher arrived late, Professor Kim would switch his without saying a word, leaving him the one he knew he liked better.

They also tended to leave together. They waited until the clock hit the same time, walked out of their classrooms almost simultaneously, and met near the main doors with casual excuses: comments about the weather, a difficult class, a particularly distracted student.

Since neither of them had a car, they took the train in the same direction. The student had seen them walking side by side to the station, carrying their briefcases, leaning in to talk over the noise of the crowd, brushing shoulders without noticing… or pretending they didn’t.

They didn’t have to worry. Their secret was safe with her. In fact, from then on, whenever she saw them writing a note, tearing a page from a notebook, or folding a paper a little too carefully, she stepped in before they could even ask.

She smiled. Walked over casually. "Is that note for Professor Jeon? If you want, I can take it to him."

✎ᝰ.

SOME TIME EARLIER

The literature teacher, Jung Haeun, had requested a temporary leave; she was pregnant and would soon give birth, and she would still have to go through the required postpartum recovery afterward. So it was time for her to stop teaching and focus entirely on her baby, at least for a while. The news spread quickly through the teachers’ lounge, accompanied by congratulations, gentle jokes about cribs and diapers, and worried comments about who could possibly cover her position for so many months.

The school principal managed to find a substitute: Professor Jeon Wonwoo. He had graduated some time ago, but he hadn’t been able to land a stable job until now; for many schools, his student-teaching experience hadn’t been enough, and his résumé had been buried under piles of applications from more seasoned educators. But at that school, the urgency was real, and the need for someone who could take control of the class without letting the school cycle fall apart outweighed any doubts.

Wonwoo showed up very early on a Monday morning, when the hallways still smelled like cleaning solution. He would be in charge of both middle school and high school students, a combination that sounded intimidating even for veteran teachers; it seemed tough, but he trusted that he could handle it. He was usually serious, reserved, meticulous with his notes and lesson plans, and although he was shy, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his work.

For the first few days, he was there mostly to meet the students and observe the pace of the classes; Professor Haeun was still around, walking slowly through the halls with one hand pressed to her lower back, patiently guiding him so he could survive what was left of the school year… which was actually pretty much the entire school year.

He learned quickly and noticed that most of the students were well-behaved in that teacher’s class: they raised their hands, took notes, sighed when they were assigned entire chapters to read, but still did it. However, there were always a few troublemakers—the ones who never stopped talking even while the teacher was still explaining something, others who passed folded notes in impossible shapes to communicate in secret, or the ones who tried to hide so they could fall asleep, lowering their heads and thinking no one could see them.

Wonwoo watched them closely, memorizing names, faces, and mannerisms, looking for patterns so he’d know who to keep a closer eye on and who only needed a stern look from behind the desk.

Maybe what he struggled with most wasn’t the students, but interacting with the rest of the staff. Yes, they had already introduced him to all the other teachers during a quick meeting in the conference room, with lukewarm coffee and store-bought cookies on the table; yes, he had found the English teacher very handsome and… well, actually, that was the only teacher whose full name he’d managed to remember: Kim Mingyu. And Wonwoo was very shy, so of course he had no intention of making any moves to get the young teacher’s attention, no matter how his stomach tightened a little every time he saw him laughing with the other staff members.

Besides, what if he didn’t like men? Or what if he was already married, with a nice family and small kids who ran up to hug him after school? Even though a wave of jealousy flooded his chest at those thoughts, they also helped keep him grounded and stop him from building unnecessary fantasies.

Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself during those first few days, because Professor Mingyu was… like a ray of sunshine, maybe? He seemed bright even on gray mornings, with his clothes sometimes slightly rumpled, his tie loose, and a smile that never really faded. Wonwoo kind of hated that he was the first person he saw every day when he arrived at school, right when he was still half-asleep and his coffee had barely kicked in.

"Good morning, Professor Jeon!" the English teacher called out cheerfully from the other end of the hallway, lifting a hand in an exaggerated wave, and Wonwoo couldn’t help smiling, even if he tried to keep his composure.

"Good morning, Professor Kim!" he replied, and Mingyu smiled even wider, flashing his teeth in a way that made him look dangerously charming.

"You already know your way around, right?" the English teacher asked while scratching the back of his neck and glancing away a little. Wonwoo didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he looked nervous… was he nervous about talking to him?

"Yeah, Professor Haeun’s been showing me everything around here, so I’m all set—don’t worry about me," Wonwoo said lightly, trying to sound casual, but Mingyu was looking straight at him, like he was searching his face for something.

"Oh… well, but…" he said, with a hint of disappointment in his voice; Wonwoo could hear it, though he also thought maybe it was just his own desire to get closer to Professor Kim projecting where it shouldn’t. "Still, you can come find me if you need help or… whatever, if you have questions or if… uh, you want to get to know the city more—the principal told us you’re from Changwon, right?"

Wonwoo didn’t miss the way Mingyu avoided eye contact at the end of the sentence, how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and fidgeted with the pen in his hand. He thought it was so cute it almost made his chest ache, and… show him around the city? The idea made his stomach flutter. He’d honestly love that, since he’d just moved to Seoul and had only learned the route from his apartment to the school and from the school back to his apartment, like the entire city had shrunk into those two straight lines on a map.

"Yeah, I just moved to Seoul, uh… though I might not be free after classes because I’ve got a lot to catch up on before Professor Haeun leaves, but would the weekend work? I’d love to get to know the city—I’d love for you to show me around," Wonwoo said, sounding friendly and warm, surprising himself at how easily the words came when it was Mingyu he was talking to. That only made the English teacher smile even more, showing his canines in a mischievous way, as if he’d just won something invisible but incredibly important.

Wonwoo felt like he was going on a date with Professor Kim, even though they hadn’t actually said it out loud. Still, ever since Thursday, Mingyu had been asking him almost every day if they were really going to see each other over the weekend—through casual hallway comments, remarks tossed out when they ran into each other in the teachers’ lounge, or even quick notes scribbled on a post-it that someone left on his desk—and every single day Wonwoo answered yes, trying to sound calm while his heart beat faster than normal on the inside.

He even avoided exploring new places on his own all week, even though he had a bit of free time after classes on a few afternoons. He walked to the subway station, looked at tourist maps posted on the walls, passed by small cafés that looked cozy and parks that seemed perfect for sitting down to read… but he always turned back. He wanted Mingyu to show them to him; he wanted him to be the one guiding him through the city, pointing out interesting streets and little restaurants tucked between tall buildings.

He also wanted to know Professor Kim’s sexual orientation and whether he was single—those questions spun around in his head right before he fell asleep—but he decided to wait a little longer to ask, as if doing it too soon might break something fragile that was only just beginning to form between them.

Saturday looked like it was going to be sunny, according to the weather forecast Wonwoo checked three times on his phone, but he still put on a light sweater because he got cold easily and always felt like the temperature dropped more than they said it would. He stood in front of the mirror for several minutes, adjusted the collar, smoothed out a few imaginary wrinkles with his fingers, and checked that his hair was in place.

He waited for Professor Kim to pick him up at his place, since Mingyu had insisted over and over, mentioning routes, nearby subway stations, and how easy it would be to swing by instead of meeting somewhere random. So Wonwoo had no choice but to wait for him at home, pacing back and forth across the living room, checking the clock every two minutes, nervous and excited about finally going out with the teacher he liked—even if he still didn’t dare admit it out loud.

The other teachers had been very kind to him since he arrived at the school—they helped him with paperwork, explained internal rules, and even recommended nearby cafés… but Mingyu was the youngest, and he was also very handsome. Wonwoo thought he had no idea why the English teacher worked there; with looks like that, surely some K-pop agency or acting company should be interested in him.

Without meaning to, he pictured massive billboards with Mingyu’s face, TV interviews, and fans screaming at him in the street, and he had to shake his head to snap back to reality, annoyed with himself for how far his thoughts kept wandering.

All those deep thoughts vanished when someone rang the doorbell. He immediately fixed himself one last time in the entryway mirror: adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath, lifted his shoulders like he needed to release some tension, and then walked toward the door.

Mingyu was outside, leaning against the railing in the apartment building hallway, dressed casually. He looked different from how he did at work in his neatly pressed shirts; he was wearing more comfortable clothes, a light hoodie, jeans, and dark sunglasses that gave him a carefree air. One hand was in his pocket, and he was holding his phone in the other, like he had just texted him and happened to look up when he heard the door open. Wonwoo really liked this teacher—even more like this, outside the formal school setting.

"Hi, Professor Jeon! Or… or should I just call you Wonwoo?" Mingyu said, suddenly acting shy, tilting his head slightly and lifting his shoulders, and Wonwoo smiled at the sight.

"Yeah, just Wonwoo is fine. Can I call you Mingyu?" Won asked, his voice coming out softer than he meant it to, and the other man slowly shook his head.

"No, you should always call me Professor Kim, please," he said seriously and solemnly, frowning a little and crossing his arms—making Wonwoo’s smile vanish completely. He froze for a second, unsure if he’d messed up… and that was when Mingyu burst out laughing, throwing his head back. "I’m kidding, Wonwoo. You fall for it so easily."

Wonwoo just rolled his eyes, though the relief showed in the way his shoulders relaxed. "Very funny, Mingyu," he said sarcastically, leaning against the doorframe.

Mingyu started laughing again, and his laugh was contagious—bright and warm—and before he knew it, Wonwoo ended up laughing too, shaking his head while thinking that this Saturday was definitely shaping up to be more than he’d imagined.

"Well then, shall we go?" Gyu said with a smile, tilting his head slightly as he motioned with his hand for them to head out.

Wonwoo nodded, grabbed his keys from the small table by the door, closed it carefully, and turned the lock twice—more out of habit than necessity. Then he slipped the keys into his coat pocket, and the two of them walked together toward the train station closest to the apartment complex where Wonwoo lived.

They moved along the sidewalk side by side, sometimes brushing shoulders by accident when the space narrowed between pedestrians, and Wonwoo had to remind himself to breathe normally.

They started talking a little, at first just about work. Wonwoo told him more about how he’d been settling into the school, about the calmer groups, the students who never stopped talking, and how strange it had felt at first to take over for someone as beloved as Professor Haeun.

Being a teacher wasn’t easy, and Mingyu completely understood; he nodded several times, made sympathetic comments, and shared his own stories about surprise quizzes, piles of notebooks to grade, and demanding parents who showed up without warning. But as they kept walking and got closer to the station, the conversation topics slowly began to shift, growing more personal.

The train arrived with a whistle as the doors opened. The two of them boarded along with other passengers and settled in standing near one of the poles to hold on to.

"How is it possible that you only eat Buldak ramen, Wonwoo? That stuff can’t be good for you," Mingyu said with genuine surprise in his voice, glancing sideways at him as the train started moving smoothly.

They were both taking public transportation because neither of them had a car, so they had to get around the city using subways, trains, and buses, hopping from one line to another with digital maps. Wonwoo didn’t mind; that way it would be easy for him to move around on his own once Mingyu finished showing him the city… something he hoped wouldn’t happen too soon.

"Well… it’s easy and quick to make, there’s nothing complicated about it, Mingyu. I don’t know how to cook, and you know it’s more expensive to eat out every day," Wonwoo explained with a shrug.

Mingyu nodded, understanding the point, but his expression made it clear he wasn’t completely convinced. "Well, you need to learn how to cook, Won."

The little nickname made Wonwoo’s heart jolt, like someone had squeezed his chest for a second.

"Won? I-I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m being too familiar… it’s just…" Mingyu looked out the train window, pretending to be interested in the buildings flashing by on the other side of the glass.

Oh. Wonwoo really liked that. "You can call me Won, Min… that’s fine," he replied, putting deliberate emphasis on the Min, testing how it sounded in his own mouth.

Mingyu smiled shyly and nodded. "Well, Won, you really should learn how to cook. It’s dangerous to live on that silly instant soup. At least you drink water every day, right?"

"Uh… yeah, sure, though I usually wash my Buldak down with a Monster," Wonwoo admitted, lowering his voice at the end.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, amused and clearly worried at the same time. "Oh, Wonwoo… today I’m taking you out for some good ramyeon, and we’re also going to have to schedule a few dates to teach you how to cook."

Dates? Did Wonwoo hear that right? Dates? His ears turned red almost instantly, an uncomfortable heat creeping up his neck, and he cleared his throat, turning his head a little like he needed air.

"You know how to cook?" he said, trying to change the subject, forgetting about the dates and trying to slow down his heart, which was pounding way too hard.

"Of course. I used to cook every day for myself and my little sister when I lived in Anyang, and now I can make all kinds of dishes… I can teach you, and I could also cook for you," Mingyu told him. His last words came out shy again, paired with a small, sincere smile that made Wonwoo swallow without realizing it.

Later, as the afternoon went on and the sun started painting the buildings outside the restaurant windows in orange tones, Wonwoo realized that Kim Mingyu was incredibly interesting—and deeply passionate about teaching. He didn’t notice it all at once, but little by little: through offhand comments, the way he leaned forward when he talked about his students, how his eyes lit up whenever he mentioned a class that had gone especially well.

Wonwoo now understood why he’d chosen to become a teacher: Min loved working with kids, enjoyed sharing what he knew, and was also very good at English, slipping between languages naturally when he wanted to give an example or quote phrases he used in class.

Mingyu wasn’t just devoted to his job; he was also funny and creative, the kind of person who could tell an everyday story and turn it into something entertaining just with his tone of voice and the way he moved his hands.

He was so unique that Wonwoo found it hard to believe they were sitting across from each other at a small table, two steaming bowls of ramyeon between them and a conversation that didn’t seem to run out. With a touch of insecurity, he thought he had nothing interesting to offer; Min had traveled outside Korea, seen Europe, and lived in the United States for a while because of his father’s job, and he talked about it like it was nothing special—mentioning cities, trains, and museums as easily as other people talked about the weather.

But to Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo was just as interesting… and very cute. He found it contradictory that Wonwoo couldn’t cook when he’d spent most of his childhood in his grandmother’s restaurant, listening to dishes clatter in the kitchen, smelling boiling broths, and watching customers come and go at all hours.

Even so, what he’d always been passionate about was reading; he used to take refuge among shelves packed with novels and old books, and that was why he’d once wanted to become a writer too—though he ended up as a literature teacher instead. He didn’t complain about it; he said it with a calm, proud tone, as if he’d accepted that path with serenity.

"Have you ever written anything seriously?" Mingyu asked, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together, looking at him with genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, some short stories… and bad poems," Wonwoo replied with a nervous laugh. "But I never showed them to anyone."

"That’s a crime," Mingyu said with exaggerated drama. "Secret writers are always the most interesting."

Wonwoo shook his head, embarrassed. "I’m not that good."

"I don’t believe you," Min shot back without hesitation. "Not everyone talks about books the way you do." That made Wonwoo lower his gaze a little, stirring the noodles in his bowl to hide the smile that slipped out.

On top of that, Min thought Wonwoo had an incredible imagination; the way he talked about the books he’d read and how his mind could transport him to fantastic places far from Korea felt beautiful to him. He listened as Wonwoo described entire worlds, castles floating in the air, impossible seas, and characters trapped between realities, and he found himself hanging on every word, even forgetting to eat for a moment.

"So… if you could live in one of those books, which one would you choose?" Mingyu asked, slowly turning his glass between his fingers.

"Maybe a fantasy one," Wonwoo answered after thinking for a second. "Where I can travel a lot and not have to worry about paying rent."

Mingyu burst out laughing. "Good reason."

"And you?" Wonwoo asked.

"An adventure story, I guess… though I’d probably end up getting lost in another country again," he joked, thinking about his trips.

"Again?" Wonwoo repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I got lost in the Paris subway once… wandered around for almost an hour," Min admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

"You don’t seem like the type to get lost," Wonwoo commented.

"Trust me, I’m an expert at it," Mingyu told him before laughing.

The conversation kept flowing just as easily. They talked about funny students, classes that went badly, favorite foods, cities they wanted to visit in the future, and the places in Seoul Mingyu still wanted to show him.

Wonwoo found himself telling stories about his childhood, about spending entire afternoons reading in a corner of his grandmother’s restaurant while it rained outside, and Mingyu listened closely, asking questions and smiling every time Wonwoo got excited remembering something.

Hours and hours passed with them talking in the ramyeon shop without either of them realizing how much time had gone by, until one of the waitresses walked up to their table with a tired smile.

"Excuse me… would you like to order dessert or…? We’re about to close."

They both blinked at the same time, looked around, and noticed that several tables were empty and the noise in the place was slowly fading, like the world had moved on without warning while they stayed trapped in their little bubble of conversation.

"Oh, right, the check, please," Mingyu said naturally, and the waitress nodded. "I’ll pay this time, okay, Wonwoo?" he added with a smile, looking at him.

"No, wait… why? I can give you my—" Wonwoo started, fumbling for his wallet in his coat, clearly surprised.

"That way I make sure you treat me on the next date," Gyu cut in before he could finish, smiling openly, almost mischievously.

"Date?" Wonwoo murmured, blinking several times, making Mingyu’s eyes go wide like he’d suddenly realized what he’d just said out loud.

"Ah… hangout, as friends… well…" he corrected himself first, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and taking a breath, visibly nervous, though he didn’t completely lose his determined look. "What’s wrong with this?" he went on, sitting up straighter before looking at him more seriously. "Wonwoo, honestly… I like you, but I know we need to get to know each other better, so… yeah, consider this a date, and the next ones too… outings with the intention of waking up next to you for the rest of my life."

And Wonwoo was left completely speechless—literally. His shoulders slackened and he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but right at that moment the waitress showed up with the card reader in hand, ready to charge them, cutting into the moment with a professional smile. Mingyu, his heart still pounding, slipped in his card and typed in the PIN, unable to stop thinking about what he had just confessed. And just like that, between the machine’s beep and the receipt printing out, their afternoon inside the restaurant officially came to an end.

They stepped outside a few minutes later; it was already dark, streetlights lit up the sidewalk, and the cold night air brushed against their faces, making them pull their coat collars up a little higher. They walked side by side toward the train station, not touching, but close enough to feel the other’s presence.

"Mingyu… did you really mean all that?" Wonwoo asked quietly as they walked along the sidewalk, finally breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Mingyu nodded without hesitation, turning his head to look at him with an honest expression. "Of course…" he answered softly. "You’re very, very attractive, Jeon Wonwoo… and you’ve got this sweet, gentle personality…" Gyu let out a breath, almost like he needed air to keep going. "You’re amazing, and getting to know you better today really made me sure that I want something serious with you, Won."

Mingyu’s confession was surprising, straightforward, intense… but Wonwoo wasn’t about to turn that down. He’d liked Professor Kim from the very first time he saw him, and that afternoon had only confirmed a lot of what he’d already suspected. "Okay…" he murmured after a few seconds, clenching his hands a little inside his coat pockets. "I like the idea… going out, getting to know each other more… you’re great too… unique in your own way," he added shyly, not even daring to look at him, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

They both headed home not long after. Mingyu lived three stations before the one closest to Wonwoo’s place, so even during the ride they got to talk a little more, commenting on small things, laughing under their breath, and sharing silences that no longer felt awkward. It was nice… Wonwoo liked the time he’d spent with Gyu, and as he watched the lights blur past outside the train window in the darkness, he honestly hoped that his first date might turn into forever.

✎ᝰ.

From that point on, Mingyu and Wonwoo were basically inseparable. Even within the formal, rigid environment of the school, they couldn’t manage to stay very far from each other; they always found an excuse to run into one another in the hallways, stop by the teachers’ lounge at the same time, or exchange a few quick words between classes.

Sometimes they got lucky, because since they were the youngest teachers on staff, the administration considered them responsible enough to handle certain groups together when schedules needed covering, extracurricular activities had to be supervised, or special evaluations prepared. Other times, classes were simply arranged in similar blocks without anyone realizing the huge advantage that gave them.

They talked and talked for hours—so much that sometimes they didn’t even notice the time until another colleague reminded them it was time to head to class or that the bell had rung several minutes ago—and little by little, each of them started collecting small, curious facts about the other, details that seemed insignificant at first but ended up meaning a lot: Mingyu knew what kind of coffee Wonwoo ordered when he was tired, that he always forgot to eat while grading exams, and that he had a habit of highlighting books with way too many colors; Wonwoo, for his part, knew that Mingyu hummed while walking down the halls, got nervous when speaking in formal meetings, and had a laugh so distinctive he tried to hide it in front of students—but never quite managed to.

It was great running into each other in the teachers’ lounge, sharing coffee and cookies in the morning while flipping through papers and lesson plans, trading quick comments about how the first class of the day had gone, and even helping each other out now and then with situations that got a little out of hand—like that student who hated reading but loved English class, so Mingyu ended up stepping in without anyone directly asking him to.

"Sangwon, can I ask you a favor?" he told him once, near the end of class. The boy was about fourteen, with that complicated mix of apathy and rebellion that usually comes with the age, but Gyu knew he could work seriously, that he could focus on school because in his classroom he did great—he always participated, always turned in his work, and seemed to understand the material perfectly.

The kid just nodded; he was sitting beside the English teacher’s desk while Mingyu checked the assignment he’d left for that class. "Be nicer to the literature teacher, okay? Do your work—I know you can do it well because you prove that to me here. Don’t give Professor Jeon a hard time, yeah? I promise I’ll give you an extra point if you raise your grade in literature."

The boy looked at Gyu for a few seconds, like he was weighing the offer, then nodded slowly again. "I’ll try, it’s just… Professor Kim, I feel like Professor Jeon is so boring and so… stiff? I never have fun in his classes… it’s totally different from yours," he finished before sighing, letting his shoulders slump dramatically.

"You have to understand that every teacher works differently, and I’m sure there’s a way for you to have fun in his class too, okay?" Mingyu replied, leaning against the edge of the desk and lowering his voice like it was some important secret. "If everyone finishes their work faster, he can probably put on a fun activity like the ones we’ve had here, and you’ll see that he’s great too." Mingyu sounded maybe a little more enthusiastic than he should have—far too optimistic for someone who was supposedly just giving neutral advice, but of course, the student didn’t suspect a thing.

"Alright, Professor Kim, I’ll try harder."

Maybe it was a strange favor to ask a kid, something that didn’t have much to do with his subject, but the truth was that Wonwoo had already used up every trick he had with Sangwon, who stayed completely apathetic toward his class no matter how many times he tried switching things up or assigning different readings. Mingyu wanted to help, even if it was in that roundabout way.

Later, the two of them met up at the exit, like they always did by then, waiting near the gate while students poured out in noisy groups and the other teachers said goodbye with quick comments about meetings and unfinished tasks. Now they always walked to the train station together, leaving side by side since they lived in the same general direction anyway, just three stations apart, and Gyu always got off first, waving dramatically from the door before disappearing into the crowd on the platform.

"I don’t know what happened with Sangwon, but today he actually worked in class, finished his reading, and answered the little quiz I gave them before anyone else—I was really surprised," Wonwoo commented cheerfully, glancing at him, and Mingyu smiled like he’d already been waiting to hear that.

"Maybe his English teacher told him he should put more effort into literature class," Gyu replied, still smiling, with a casual tone that fooled absolutely no one.

"Seriously, Mingyu? Wow… I can’t believe the influence you have over that kid… but thank you… class was actually easy today because he behaved," Wonwoo said, letting out a soft laugh, and Mingyu’s smile widened, clearly pleased.

"You owe me one… so how about you make it up to me this weekend? I still have to give you those cooking lessons, you know—I haven’t forgotten," Mingyu said, leaning a little closer, and Wonwoo let out a nervous little laugh.

"Alright, that sounds good then… are we having a date at my place?" Wonwoo almost whispered, glancing around on instinct, unsure whether there were students, other teachers, or school staff on the train who might hear that dangerous little word coming from two teachers’ mouths.

Mingyu just nodded. And that’s how it went—on Saturday they met up at Wonwoo’s apartment. He’d gone out early to buy some ingredients to make bibimbap because Gyu had told him the recipe was easy, that it didn’t require complicated techniques or weird utensils, just patience and a bit of organization.

On the other hand, Mingyu brought ingredients to make bulgogi. That was simple to prepare too and pretty nutritious, a total contrast to the instant ramen Wonwoo always ate at home out of pure lack of time—or laziness—after long days. Wonwoo tidied up his kitchen a little, moved a couple of things around, washed dishes he hadn’t used in days, and changed into comfortable clothes since they weren’t going out—a loose sweater and soft pants—then waited for Gyu to arrive, checking his phone every few minutes without wanting to admit how anxious he was.

And Mingyu arrived right on time. He rang Wonwoo’s doorbell carrying grocery bags stuffed with vegetables, meat, and little jars of sauces, and greeted the other teacher with a wide smile as soon as the door opened.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon. Are you ready to stop being a teacher and become a student just for this evening?" he said theatrically, making Wonwoo laugh as he nodded and let him in.

"Of course, Mr. Kim. Are you ready to be a teacher of teachers?" The two of them shared that same light, simple sense of humor that slipped out effortlessly whenever they were together, and for some reason it was incredibly easy for Wonwoo to play along with Gyu—improvise those small, absurd, flirty exchanges, crack jokes he never made with anyone else.

They got to work almost immediately. First, Mingyu started marinating the meat for the bulgogi with confident movements, mixing soy sauce, garlic, sugar, and oil in a bowl while explaining what he was doing. At the same time, they began preparing the bibimbap that Wonwoo wanted to learn how to cook. It didn’t seem that hard—at least in theory.

"I didn’t even know I owned a rice cooker, but I’m glad I’m finding out right now," Wonwoo admitted as he pulled it out from a cabinet corner and set it going with a cup of rice.

Then they started chopping the vegetables he’d bought—carrots, zucchini, scallions, lettuce, and a couple of colorful bell peppers—lining them up messily on the cutting board. "So… you can actually use a knife, or do you need help?" Mingyu said, half joking and half serious, watching him closely from the other side of the counter.

"Are you trying to have one of those romantic scenes where you teach me how to use a knife with your body pressed against mine and your hands guiding mine?" Wonwoo replied in a teasing tone, tilting his head slightly while lifting the carrot like it was a dangerous weapon. "But I do know how to cut—look." He added, making some pretty decent strips with the carrot on his little board, focusing for a moment before glancing sideways at him, clearly fishing for approval.

"Alright… but, can we do that scene you just came up with anyway?" Mingyu asked with a crooked smile, leaning against the kitchen counter like he was seriously considering stepping closer—but they both ended up laughing before either of them made a move.

After chopping the vegetables, they tossed them into a pan with a little sesame oil that started to sizzle, filling the kitchen with a warm, toasted smell, while in another pan they cooked the meat Wonwoo had bought.

The rice was already done, so once the vegetables and meat were ready, they added everything to a big plate, arranging each thing carefully. In less than an hour, the first dish was finished—colorful and steaming, looking way more elaborate than anything Wonwoo was used to making.

"See? It’s really easy to cook something better than plain instant soup," Mingyu told Wonwoo as he served the dish into a bowl and held it out to him like it was an important test.

"Yeah, but wouldn’t it be easier to have a boyfriend who cooks for me every day because he loves me?" Wonwoo asked, maybe making his intentions a little too obvious, lifting his gaze with an innocent expression that fooled absolutely no one. Mingyu just let out a nervous chuckle, though the idea didn’t bother him at all—on the contrary, it settled into his head dangerously fast. He definitely liked it. Wonwoo’s apartment was about the same size and simplicity as his own, but sharing it with someone—with him—would be even better.

And there were excuses he could come up with: well, rent keeps going up, Professor Jeon is new in the city, he needs a perfect guide like Mingyu—someone to show him the best places to eat and how to get around Seoul without getting lost. Sure, three months had already passed since Wonwoo had moved there, but it still sounded reasonable enough if you said it with enough conviction.

Mingyu couldn’t get the idea out of his head anymore—living with Wonwoo. What would that be like, exactly? Being there, cooking with him in a small, messy kitchen, laughing over ridiculous things… that was just a sample of what their everyday life could be like, maybe. Wow… waking up next to Wonwoo, having his face be the first thing he saw in the morning, going to work together and then coming back home together, kicking off their shoes at the door and sitting down to talk about their day, and having Wonwoo’s face be the last thing he saw at night before falling asleep.

Ah… he almost sighed at the thought while Wonwoo was telling him how much he loved the bulgogi marinade, that the meat was really good, perfectly seasoned and tender, so Gyu had to shake his head a little to stop daydreaming and come back to the present, focus on the satisfied smile in front of him and on the plate that was slowly being emptied.

"I’m glad you liked it so much, Won… I hope you start eating better from now on or I’ll have to take care of that," Mingyu said with a half-smile and a tone that sounded joking, even though deep down there was an implied promise in it. Wonwoo shook his head at first, but then went still, like he was suddenly reconsidering absolutely everything.

"Well, I wouldn’t mind if you took care of me every night." And he smiled, but then immediately tripped over his own words. "I-I mean… with dinner, cooking, yeah… uh… nights, I…" Mingyu laughed before he could stop himself at Wonwoo’s nervousness, at that clumsy, adorable way he tried to correct himself.

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind at all—taking care of everything, every night," Gyu assured him, his voice calmer, more serious this time, because it was true. Because he liked Wonwoo so much that just looking at him made his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest, like he was running without moving. He felt light, wound tight with happy tension, butterflies fluttering nonstop in his stomach. He smiled without even realizing it.

"Alright, Mingyu… but now we have to wash all these dishes." Of course—they’d eaten a lot, talked too much, cooked in different pots and pans, and now the counter was full of dirty plates. They teamed up for that too, one soaping and the other drying, bumping shoulders every now and then while they kept laughing at dumb jokes, drifting back to talking about students they shared, remembering ridiculous classroom stories, and being happy inside that little bubble they’d created without noticing.

When they were done, it still wasn’t very late—maybe just past five in the afternoon. "Do you want to watch a movie? Though I don’t think I can eat popcorn now—we ate well thanks to Chef Mingyu," Wonwoo suggested while he dried the last plate and slid it onto the rack.

"Sure, yeah… I don’t think I could eat anything else either," Mingyu replied, but then his eyes drifted to Wonwoo’s lips and he had to clear his throat mentally—okay… maybe there was something he could devour right now, and it had nothing to do with food.

The two of them went to Wonwoo’s small living room, picked a light movie neither of them had to take too seriously, and sat down next to each other on the not-so-big couch. Mingyu stretched his arm along the backrest almost without trying to hide it, while Wonwoo ended up leaning his shoulder against his arm, practically using his bicep as a pillow without realizing it—their bodies touching, their legs barely brushing… wow, this was way nicer than Gyu had imagined.

But the movie felt way too short, because when it ended it was already almost eight, and Mingyu sighed—more out of obligation than any real desire to leave. "Well… I guess I should go," he said, even though he didn’t move an inch from the couch.

"Yeah… it’s getting late, tomorrow… do you have anything to do tomorrow?" Wonwoo asked in a tone that gave away way too much hope. Could they have another date without having to call it that?

"No, nothing… do you want to do something together? We could go to a café I saw on TikTok recently, but I haven’t gone yet," Gyu replied with a smile, leaning a little closer to him.

"Okay… sounds good," Wonwoo whispered, happy, because he’d had an amazing time too. The truth was, he’d never felt so comfortable doing basically nothing with someone—sharing quiet moments, simple activities—and even so, he worried a little that none of that might be enough for Mingyu, who was like constant sunshine, like a human golden retriever who was always suggesting plans and never seemed to get tired.

Gyu was the one who stood up first. He grabbed his hoodie from the back of the chair where he’d left it—outside was probably cold—and walked toward the door while Wonwoo hurried ahead to open it.

"Well…" Mingyu started, looking straight at him without stepping out of the apartment yet. "I had a really good time today, honestly. I love spending time with you," he said with a soft smile, and Wonwoo thought, without exaggerating, that he had never loved a smile so much in his life.

"Thank you, Mingyu… thank you for worrying about me and for this date that was so… sweet and unique… really." Wonwoo’s voice came out calm, still a little shy, and yet full of something else too—nerves, excitement, that soft tension that settled into the air when two people stared at each other for a little too long. Gyu watched him closely, his hands already tucked into the side pockets of his hoodie.

"You don’t have to thank me, I liked our date too." Mingyu smiled slowly as he spoke. They were so close that Wonwoo had to tilt his face up just a little to look him straight in the eyes. "So… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?" Mingyu whispered, never breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, okay, see you tomorrow, Min…" Wonwoo started, but Mingyu couldn’t take it anymore—he moved first and stole a quick little kiss, so short it almost made Wonwoo chase after him on instinct and ask for more, just a soft peck that left everything buzzing.

"See you tomorrow, Wonwoo," he said before letting out a quiet laugh and finally leaving the apartment, heading down the hallway while Wonwoo’s heart raced a thousand miles an hour. Wow… why did he feel like a teenager in his first love?

He laughed softly at himself while watching him go until he disappeared from sight, leaning against the doorframe. He was a teacher, a grown man, but right now he felt just like his students when they got notes from secret admirers—giddy, hopeful, his chest tight with happiness… ah… Mingyu was more than he could have asked for.

✎ᝰ.

Wonwoo and Mingyu were already in a relationship, but… they kept it secret. It had become an unspoken rule between them, something they never said out loud but both understood perfectly from the start. They went on dates on weekends, almost always far from the school, went back to Wonwoo’s apartment to kiss without rushing, to cook together, to watch movies on the tiny couch, to fall asleep next to each other while the TV kept playing and neither of them really paid attention to what was happening on the screen—they were happy inside that small space they had built just for the two of them.

Even so, they knew perfectly well that they couldn’t reveal they were a couple, that it wasn’t as simple as holding hands in public or mentioning each other casually at work.

There were a lot of reasons for that—too many to ignore—especially the fact that in Korea, same-sex relationships still weren’t well accepted by a large part of society, and even less so in a conservative environment like a school.

If Wonwoo and Mingyu had a dollar for every time the teachers at the school asked them when they were going to start a family, by now neither of them would have to keep teaching—they could retire early and move somewhere far away just so they’d never have to hear that apparently innocent and painfully awkward question again.

"Mingyu, you’re very handsome, and you’re single, right?" the math teacher would start one random morning in the teachers’ lounge, with a smile that had already become far too familiar. 

Gyu had no choice but to smile politely and nod, stirring his coffee as if he were extremely focused on that. "Perfect, are you free this weekend? My niece is coming to visit and I think you’d make a lovely couple—I’d love to introduce you to her." The teacher said it completely naturally, like she was doing him the favor of the century, and Mingyu let out a nervous laugh.

"I’m sorry, Ms. Yoon, but I’ll be busy this weekend," Gyu answered kindly, almost apologetic, searching for a believable excuse without going into too much detail.

"Oh, that’s a shame and… what about you, Wonwoo? You don’t have a partner either, right?" the woman continued, turning to him quickly, like she didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Wonwoo just shook his head, uncomfortable. "Then you should come instead—you’re very handsome, perfect for her," Ms. Yoon said enthusiastically, pointing lightly at him, and Wonwoo let out a short laugh, more from nerves than amusement.

"Sorry, I can’t either. I already have plans this weekend," he replied softly, avoiding holding her gaze for too long—and in fact, those plans were with Mingyu, like almost all of them lately, but that wasn’t something he needed to reveal to the teacher, not now and probably never.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head a little too sharply for either of their tastes, doing it dramatically. "Oh, come on… that’s why you’re still single. An opportunity shows up and you waste it—when are you going to start a family? When are you going to marry a woman? No, Wonwoo, Mingyu… if you keep this up, people are going to start looking at you weird too—two handsome men staying single? That sounds very suspicious. You need to do something about it." She warned them without realizing how uncomfortable she sounded, and Wonwoo and Mingyu could only exchange a quick look before being hit with a wave of secondhand embarrassment and resignation.

It wasn’t a good idea for the teachers at school to know about what they had. They couldn’t just say it outright, not even hint at it, and that conversation had only reinforced that idea. And then… a small incident happened that same weekend. The two of them went to the supermarket to buy some ingredients—they wanted to make Japanese ramen at home and were looking for everything they needed to make it from scratch, walking down the aisles with a half-empty cart, quietly debating whether they should buy premade broth or try to make it themselves.

They were in an aisle that had nothing but imported Japanese ingredients—shelves full of packaged noodles with lettering Wonwoo couldn’t read, bottles of special soy sauce, miso, dried seaweed, and packets of seasoning—when one of their students walked up to them, eyes wide with surprise.

"Professor Kim! Professor Jeon! Are you two friends?" the girl said with a huge smile. It was Yuna—about twelve years old, and both of them taught her class, so it wasn’t strange that she recognized them right away even outside of school.

"Hi, Yuna, how are you? Uh… yes, Professor Jeon and I are friends," Mingyu answered first, acting quickly and naturally, using that calm voice he used in class when he wanted his students to relax. Yuna nodded, satisfied, just as an adult version of her—wearing a skirt suit and blazer—came up behind her, pushing a shopping cart.

"Yuna! Where did you go? Your father and I were looking for you," the girl’s mother said as she gently took her by the shoulder and looked around the aisle.

"Oh, I ran into my teachers—you know them, right? Professor Kim and Professor Jeon are here," the girl replied, pointing at them proudly, like she’d just bumped into celebrities.

Mingyu stepped in first again, moving half a step forward and holding out his hand to greet Yuna’s mother. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Lee, it’s a pleasure to see you," he said with an impeccable, professional smile—the kind he’d perfected over the years—and the woman took his hand and nodded politely.

"I don’t think I’ve met Professor Jeon in person before, but since I’m part of the parents’ committee I had heard a bit about him… the substitute for Ms. Jung. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon," she added, extending her hand as well, studying him with a cordial smile that felt a little too analytical for Wonwoo’s taste, and he hurried to shake it.

But she looked between the two of them for a second longer than normal, her eyes flicking from one to the other with a quiet curiosity that made Mingyu’s shoulders tense slightly, even if he didn’t show it.

"Okay, Mom, let’s go, Dad must be looking for us now," Yuna finally said, grabbing her mother’s hand with childish impatience. "See you, Mr. Kim Jeon! No, sorry—Professor Kim and Professor Jeon, see you Monday!" The girl waved enthusiastically, and Wonwoo and Mingyu did the same before turning back to their shopping, pushing the cart a little faster than usual, like they suddenly wanted to get out of that aisle as soon as possible.

Later, they enjoyed cooking together, spending the afternoon side by side, laughing while one corrected the other on the recipe. Mingyu stayed over at Wonwoo’s place, and they were happy inside that little improvised refuge—but they hadn’t counted on Mrs. Lee actually talking about running into them that weekend, mentioning it later like it was nothing, without really thinking about the implications it could have inside the school environment.

Was it that strange? No—teachers sometimes hung out on weekends, most of them had friendships, got along well, shared dinners or group outings… but when Yuna’s mother told the math teacher about it, it seemed like the two of them were starting to connect those invisible threads that hadn’t had any shape before, comparing details that on their own seemed insignificant, but together were beginning to sketch out a different picture.

Because what were the odds that both of them turned down going out with a woman because they already had plans—together? Ms. Yoon, the math teacher, decided to mention it “anonymously” to the principal, dropping the information as if she didn’t want to raise suspicion, but carefully planting the seed.

And even though Monday and Tuesday seemed like normal days—days when Wonwoo and Gyu could still meet up after school, walk to the station together without feeling eyes on them, without strange comments, without any obvious shift in the atmosphere… on Wednesday, the principal called everyone into a meeting.

"Good afternoon, thank you for staying a little later after classes for this meeting… I know the days are exhausting, this is a full-time school and sometimes you barely have time to get home and rest, but… I just wanted to give you a reminder…" the principal began from the front of the multipurpose room, adjusting his glasses with a serious gesture. And it was pretty obvious who the message was aimed at, because he didn’t wait for all the teachers to arrive—once Wonwoo and Mingyu walked in together, backpacks over their shoulders and papers under their arms, he launched straight into it without any preamble.

"Remember very clearly that romantic relationships between teachers and school staff are strictly forbidden… friendships are fine, at the end of the day we’re colleagues, but… romantic relationships end up ruining teamwork, you understand?" he said in that authoritative tone that came from years of experience and being used to speaking without being questioned, sweeping his gaze across the room.

Wonwoo and Gyu didn’t even dare look at each other. They sat in seats separated by a couple of rows and kept their eyes fixed forward—they weren’t stupid, and by that point they already suspected this was about them, that it wasn’t just a vague warning, and that Yuna’s mother must have talked about seeing them together at the supermarket. Was that too domestic for her to notice? Probably not—though Wonwoo couldn’t even imagine how that simple interaction had raised suspicions, how a shared cart and a calm conversation in the middle of an aisle full of instant noodles could end up becoming a red flag for someone else.

Of course, he didn’t know that Mrs. Lee had spoken to the teacher who’d tried to set them up with her niece and… well, looking at the bigger picture, maybe they really had been giving themselves away a little without realizing it, piling up small details that, placed side by side, were far too easy to interpret.

"So I hope I don’t hear any more comments like: oh, those two teachers went out together, just the two of them, on such-and-such day—or things like that, all right? And if you do get together, well, invite me too so we can all be friends, don’t you think?" the principal finished with a laugh that was supposed to sound light, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world, even though the room stayed tense—no one answered, and several teachers exchanged uncomfortable looks.

And the worst part was that it didn’t stop there, because when they came back from break the principal changed the schedules so that Wonwoo’s and Mingyu’s no longer lined up—so they couldn’t meet for coffee and cookies in the teachers’ lounge in the mornings, couldn’t run into each other in the hallways between classes, and weren’t assigned to the same groups for extracurricular activities or joint projects anymore.

The mission was to separate them—at least inside the school—and they succeeded. And even though no one had any say outside working hours, the moment the bell rang the two of them met by the gate as always, walked to the train together, talked about their day in low voices and tired smiles, and spent time at Wonwoo’s apartment like that was the only place that was truly safe. At least there they couldn’t be separated, even if at school they couldn’t steal a single moment alone… it was awful, yeah, a little, because both of them had gotten used to that constant closeness, those casual run-ins between classes, those quick chats with coffee in hand—but… they understood the message.

The best thing was to keep their love secret, to hold it in silence—just a few quick glances from across the room and smiles no one else noticed, tiny gestures that meant everything. Even if they could only meet at the end of the day, making that final bell that announced dismissal become the most pleasant sound of all, the signal that they could finally be together again without pretending. At least they still had each other, no matter what anyone else thought.

✎ᝰ.

It was Mingyu who came up with the idea—pretty risky, if he was being honest with himself, though in reality it was something fairly common at school. During work hours, teachers weren’t allowed to use their phones; it was a strict rule they were supposed to follow to set an example for the students, who also didn’t have access to their devices at that time. So any personal messages had to wait until official breaks… or find alternative routes.

And even though he knew that if he sent Wonwoo a message on KakaoTalk during his own break, his boyfriend could read it later when his turn came, he wanted something more instant than that—more immediate, something that didn’t depend on clocks or schedules, something that reminded them that even separated by classrooms and hallways, they were still connected. At first, he decided to code his messages, make them look completely normal, academic, even boring—something no student would question if they happened to see it.

For example, he wrote: can I borrow one of your oLd pencils or markers that yOu might still haVE with YOU? making sure every capital letter was placed with precision, hoping that if a student happened to read it, they would only see the innocent-sounding request and not the highlighted letters—something Wonwoo would catch immediately because, as a literature teacher, he knew perfectly well when capital letters were necessary and when they weren’t, and he’d recognize that strange pattern right away.

He actually sent that first message through Sangwon, since he knew the kid was a little scatterbrained and his dislike for Wonwoo’s class meant he barely paid attention to anything related to the literature teacher, so he was the perfect messenger—though Mingyu still couldn’t help feeling a little nervous when he folded the paper and handed it over.

"I was told by Mr. Kim to give you this message," the student said, dropping the folded paper on Wonwoo’s desk with a careless motion before heading to his seat.

Wonwoo was startled at first, his heart giving a small jump. Did his boyfriend have something urgent to tell him? Had something happened? But he only nodded calmly, pretending to check something on his student list, running his finger over the names on the sheet as if searching for someone in particular. Then, when Sangwon was already seated and the class had returned to its usual murmur, he finally picked up the little paper and read it.

Wonwoo didn’t need to analyze the message more than once to understand it. A smile almost slipped onto his lips—the kind that always appeared without permission whenever it came to Mingyu—but he forced himself to stay composed, took a deep breath, and tucked the small note into his work bag, pushing it all the way down between notebooks, books, and folders, as if hiding it well was also a way of protecting it.

Of course, he couldn’t reply as quickly as he wanted to, but he knew he could step out into the hallway and ask someone to carry his own message to Mingyu, or wait for the next group that actually switched from literature to English—that would’ve been the logical thing to do… but he decided to send his reply in an even sneakier, more elaborate way, because if they were going to play this game, then he wanted to have some fun too.

He wrote on a scrap of paper: I love you too. No fear, no codes, no weird capital letters—direct and simple, as if those four words weren’t enough to sum up everything he felt. Then he rolled the paper into a tiny, tight little cylinder and carefully slipped it inside the cap of an extra highlighter he had on his desk, one he barely used. And when the students from his next class filed out to head to their English room, he called over one of those shy but hardworking girls who always walked with her head down and her notebooks perfectly stacked.

"Hyungseo, could you take this highlighter to Mr. Kim?" he asked in a calm voice, trying not to smile too much or give away how excited he was about that secret exchange of messages. The girl simply nodded and took the item without suspecting a thing, then headed out the door.

She admired the highlighter for a moment as she walked—it was a bright green, almost neon—and figured maybe Mr. Jeon just wanted to get rid of an extra one. So she kept going until she reached the English classroom and did exactly what he’d asked. She stepped inside and saw the teacher pinning some sheets to the board for the day’s activity, lining them up with magnets.

"Mr. Kim, the literature teacher sent you this highlighter," she said, holding it out with both hands, and Mingyu only smiled softly and nodded.

"Thanks, Hyungseo. Just leave it on my desk," he told her without making a big deal out of it, turning back to stick up the last paper as if it were nothing at all… even though inside he was buzzing with curiosity, wondering whether Wonwoo had understood the message, whether he’d caught on to the game right away.

He finished setting things up for class and then simply sat at his desk, letting the students start chatting among themselves before formally beginning. His eyes drifted to the highlighter sitting there, so innocent-looking. He picked it up and turned it over in his fingers, inspecting it.

He smiled, thinking maybe Wonwoo had assumed he really needed a marker or something like that—but when he pulled off the cap, he finally saw the hidden reply inside. His heart sped up all at once, like he’d suddenly run without moving, because Wonwoo was definitely smarter than him. He slipped the little note out and carefully unfolded it, making sure no student was looking directly at him at that moment.

I love you too.

And the English teacher had to fight to hide his excitement, that huge, completely out-of-place grin in the middle of class. He cleared his throat and started taking attendance in a professional voice, as if nothing had happened… even though that tiny message had already made his day in the most ridiculous and permanent way.

✎ᝰ.

That afternoon, when they went back to Wonwoo’s apartment, they bought some takeout because neither of them felt like cooking, and the moment the door closed behind them, Wonwoo kissed Mingyu, long and lingering, as if all the exhaustion from the day had gone straight to his lips and needed to be let out through that single gesture.

His arms slid naturally around his boyfriend’s neck, his fingers tangling in the fabric of Gyu’s coat. Mingyu, being taller, had to bend down a little, lean in to reach him properly, but he returned the kiss without a second thought, setting his hands on Wonwoo’s waist and drawing him in, pressing him against his own body. God… he loved him, he loved him so much, even if maybe it was still a little too soon to say it out loud every single day. But they were almost at their one-year anniversary; they’d gone through all those awkward and thrilling stages—the initial fear, the euphoria of the first few months, the silent judgment from people at work, the barely whispered rumors. And yet, they had managed to stay secret.

Dodging every part of that stupid contract that wouldn’t allow them to be together had practically become a sport—an ongoing exercise in discretion and self-control. Now they spent most of their time a little apart at work, more by choice than by preference, watching out for curious looks and coincidences that happened a little too often. Mingyu didn’t want to trust anyone anymore, and even so, other teachers would sometimes ask him in a casual tone, as if they weren’t hiding anything behind it.

"Hey, I haven’t seen you with Wonwoo lately—are you guys not friends anymore?" the P.E. teacher asked one morning while pouring himself coffee in the teachers’ lounge, resting his elbow on the table and looking at Mingyu over his thermos. Mingyu let out a small, light laugh, like it didn’t bother him at all.

"It’s not that. Our schedules just don’t line up anymore, so… we can’t really see each other at school," he said, choosing every word carefully and adding nothing else. He didn’t say we’re still friends or anything more—nothing that might sound too emotional.

"Oh… I see. Yeah, they changed the schedules and classrooms in some weird ways, I don’t know why… Though the other day the math teacher…" Mr. Park started, lowering his voice and leaning in like he was about to share some gossip—but he didn’t finish, because the math teacher herself walked into the lounge right then, a stack of exams under her arm and a neutral expression on her face.

So Mingyu never got to find out what he’d been about to say, though he suspected she had something to do with that sudden, perfectly calculated separation—far too precise to be a coincidence. But then it got worse: Ms. Jung was ready to come back, even though she’d taken more months than expected because her delivery had been complicated, so she’d been bedridden longer than originally planned, recovering slowly.

But two months after that school year began—the one where they separated Gyu and Wonwoo—now Wonwoo’s position was in danger, and that thought started to haunt them. Of course, he knew he was only a substitute; they’d never given him a permanent contract. He got nervous every time he saw the principal talking to other teachers in the hallways, every time he heard the word "renewal" or "change" in someone else’s conversation.

"Well, we can look for a new job, don’t worry, Won…" Mingyu reassured him one afternoon, sitting on the couch and already opening Naver on his phone to search for openings online. He mentally added buying the newspaper the next day to his to-do list, to see if they could find something together—though the idea made him more anxious than he wanted to admit.

The truth was that if they worked at different schools, it wouldn’t be the same. They probably wouldn’t get to meet early on the train to go in together, or walk home afterward trading tired laughs and talking about their day, or head back to Wonwoo’s apartment, where they spent most of their time now. Definitely no more love notes between classes hidden in highlighters or notebooks… Mingyu sighed and let his head fall back against the couch.

That was the worst part—screw the school’s teamwork; he’d look for openings for both a literature teacher and an English teacher at every possible school, make lists, save addresses, send out résumés. But… of course, the universe wasn’t that perfect. There probably wouldn’t be those two exact openings in the same place, and on top of that, there was always the risk that one of them wouldn’t make it past the interviews. It was risky.

They both searched—online, in the newspaper spread out across the kitchen table. They even went together to a couple of schools to see if they had openings, walking through neighborhoods they didn’t know very well, asking at front desks, getting polite smiles and vague answers. They found a few for literature teachers, but those schools were farther away. Wonwoo would have to get up earlier and come back to his apartment later, and Mingyu hated even thinking about it.

But from the start, Gyu had known Wonwoo was only filling in for Ms. Jung temporarily, and now he didn’t know what to do with the tight knot in his chest that wouldn’t go away. No one had officially told Wonwoo anything yet—just comments from other teachers close to Ms. Jung saying she was ready to return, that she’d gone to the school to drop off some paperwork, that she looked much better. So he felt stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, caught between hope and resignation.

Before spring break, the principal finally called him into his office, and Wonwoo wasn’t expecting the worst because he practically had it secured—or at least that was what he kept telling himself to calm down as he walked down the long hallway with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. The secretary greeted him like usual, looking up from her computer.

"Good afternoon, Wonwoo. The principal is already waiting for you," she said, letting him into the office.

Wonwoo went in and sat across from the older man, adjusting himself in the chair, back straight, hands resting on his legs. "Good afternoon," he said seriously, and the principal looked at him over his glasses.

"Good afternoon, Wonwoo. Ms. Jung will be coming back when spring break is over, but… I have a proposal for you," he said with a soft smile, that calculated tone he used when he wanted to sound kind. Wonwoo simply nodded, listening without interrupting. "I know this isn’t exactly your specialty, but the world history teacher is about to retire, so I wanted to see if you’d be willing to take over that class a couple of months after we come back from vacation."

Wonwoo nodded, but his thoughts were racing, a thousand scenarios running through his head at once. Well, he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with world history—that would mean more reading, preparing new materials, completely changing the dynamic of his classes. He’d still be reading, even if it wasn’t fiction or poetry, which he loved so much. It wasn’t his strongest subject, but maybe he could do it if he really tried… though he wanted to talk to Mingyu first, because he’d been quietly looking for new jobs for both of them, making plans in secret.

"Can I have some time to think about it?" Wonwoo asked with a slow exhale, careful not to sound rude. "I don’t want to seem ungrateful in any way, but I want to make sure I’m ready for such a different class. Could I give you an answer later, please?" he added, because he obviously didn’t want to lose this opportunity. It would be better if he and Gyu could stay working at the same place, even if under different conditions.

And Wonwoo was surprised, because he’d assumed his results would weigh more than anything that might have exposed what he had with Mingyu. After all, over those months he’d done everything he could to be impeccable—arriving early, turning in lesson plans on time, preparing engaging classes, even staying for hours to grade papers. In his mind, that should matter more than any malicious rumor.

And since he and Gyu had stopped being openly close—at least in front of any suspicious teachers—over time the principal would probably forget about it too, or at least stop seeing them as a potential problem.

"Alright. Monday, then. You can send me an email—with my secretary copied—confirming whether you want to teach that new subject or not, okay?" the principal said in a professional tone, folding his hands on the desk. Wonwoo nodded respectfully.

"Alright, sir. Thank you very much," he replied formally, dipping his head slightly, and with that, Wonwoo left the office trying to stay calm, even though his heart was beating a little faster than usual.

Mingyu was already waiting for him outside the school, leaning against the metal gate with his backpack hanging off one shoulder, looking at his phone while pretending not to be focused on the main entrance. Wonwoo hurried over, almost jogging along the gravel path just to get to him faster.

"Okay, so… they’re not firing me," Wonwoo started, a little out of breath from rushing, letting out a nervous laugh. "They do have an opening for me, but… it’s not literature."

Mingyu looked at him for a moment, weighing his words, barely frowning before speaking. "Is it because of the world history teacher?" he asked right away, like he’d already put the whole puzzle together.

"Yeah—how do you know?" Wonwoo asked, surprised, turning toward him.

Gyu let out a small laugh, lowering his voice out of habit even though they were outside. "He’s old—really old. He turned sixty-two a few days ago and talked to me… He told me how Ms. Yoon had told him some gossip, that you and I were together, as a couple. She complained, said it was a waste, but he defended us and said it was better that way because women like her didn’t deserve guys as handsome as us. She got offended and stopped talking to him."

The history teacher had noticed the changes, heard the hallway gossip, the murmurs that died down whenever he walked into the teachers’ lounge. He was observant, too, and had realized that yes—they were close, that there was something different in the way they looked for each other in a crowd, in how they always ended up meeting at the gate after school. And the fact that the principal decided to separate them just because of the math teacher’s persistent comments only made him angrier. It felt unfair and overblown.

He knew Wonwoo and Gyu were good teachers, devoted to their jobs and not problematic at all. He’d never received formal complaints about their performance—on the contrary, students spoke well of their classes—so it seemed even more ridiculous to punish them over something that didn’t affect the school in the slightest.

He decided to talk to the principal—he wanted Wonwoo to take over his position because his classroom and Mingyu’s were right next to each other, because they shared the same schedule, and because that way he could make sure they wouldn’t be separated. Even if they were just friends or boyfriends like some people were saying, they deserved to work in peace, without being watched all the time. They could be free within what the institution allowed.

"The professor Choi talked to me and said he’d guide you for a couple of months before finally retiring, so you wouldn’t be completely lost… He told me today during a free period we had, so… I thought it was a good idea, but I didn’t know if the principal would go along with it or open the position to someone new," Gyu told him honestly as they walked toward the station, and Wonwoo was happy—hearing that lifted a huge weight off his shoulders.

Well, at least there was someone at the school who supported their relationship, who didn’t judge them even though he was the oldest teacher on staff—someone who seemed to have seen too much in life to be shocked by two men in love.

Wonwoo never really knew why the history teacher had shown them that kind of direct consideration, whether it was simple fairness or some personal experience that made him more empathetic, but he was grateful. And he ended up accepting the position when he sent the email Monday morning, taking a deep breath before pressing “send.”

During break, he started reviewing all the basic world history he needed to refresh—books spread all over the dining table, sheets full of notes, dates highlighted in different colors, maps printed out and taped to the wall. It was a subject he’d studied back when he was a student, but one he hadn’t gone over in depth in years.

On top of that, Mr. Choi kept his word and coached him on what books to read ahead of time. He also told him that a lot of the time he could use the trick of assigning students a section to read or research a week in advance, so he’d have time to read it too and calmly prepare the next classes.

History wasn’t literature, but the two subjects didn’t clash either—at least they hadn’t stuck Wonwoo with algebra. That would’ve been a monumental headache and probably would’ve sent him into a panic on day one. Still, he was genuinely happy, because it meant stability and staying close to Mingyu.

Now he could see Mingyu early in the morning and… actually, there was something Gyu loved doing—getting there as early as possible, slipping into Wonwoo’s classroom with him while it was still empty, the lights off and only the morning sun filtering through the windows, and stealing a quick kiss before the students started arriving. At first, Wonwoo would stop him, gently pushing at his chest, nervous.

"Hey, we’re going to get caught and then we’ll both be unemployed," he whispered, even though the classroom door was closed and there was no one in the hallway.

"Just one more kiss, Won. I love having you so close to me," Mingyu replied before pecking his lips again, grinning like it was the greatest achievement of the day—then finally pulling away to open the door and head to his own classroom, softly whistling.

Their schedules lined up again—same lunch hours, same free periods. They went back to being magnets at work, crossing paths in the hallways with quick looks, sitting at opposite ends of the teachers’ lounge but searching for each other with their eyes, passing along “administrative” notes that actually just had doodled faces or words underlined a little too deliberately.

But they tried to keep a low profile, to really avoid the toxic teachers who kept insisting on pairing them up with some woman because “it was time,” because they were getting older and had to start a family—according to them, anyway—as if there were only one right way to live.

Instead, the step they took was moving into Wonwoo’s apartment—packing Mingyu’s things into boxes, stacking books on shared shelves, splitting closet space, leaving their toothbrushes side by side in the bathroom.

So now the two of them split the rent, but more importantly, they shared a home and the same bed. And that feeling of coming back to the same place every night, cooking together without worrying so much, falling asleep watching old shows—it made them feel closer than ever. And now nothing could separate them.