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The smell of dry-erase markers and stale institutional coffee hit Seungmin as he entered the lecture hall. He dropped his briefcase onto his desk with a heavy thud, pulling out his syllabus for Calculus 101. Exactly eight minutes until 9:00 AM. Perfect. Time enough to review his curriculum in silence.
Then the door creaked open, and silence died.
"Morning, Seungminnie," a smooth, thoroughly unbothered voice called out.
Seungmin didn't even look up from his notes. "It’s Professor Kim, Dr. Lee. And you’re in the wrong building. Physics is across the quad."
"I know where my department is," Minho said, strolling down the center aisle of the auditorium with hands shoved lazily into the pockets of his dark coat. He stopped at the front row, resting his hip against a desk, an infuriatingly comfortable smile playing on his lips. "I just wanted to make sure your day started on a high note. Say, dinner tonight? That Italian place on 4th?"
"No."
"Tomorrow, then? I’ll make reservations."
"I have midterms to grade tomorrow. And on Thursday, I have office hours. On Friday, I am deliberately avoiding you." Seungmin finally raised his eyes, uncapping his black marker with a sharp snap. "Do you ever actually teach your own classes, or do you just wander the math department looking to waste my time?"
Minho tilted his head, eyes glittering with quiet amusement. "I teach. But quantum mechanics gets dull without a little excitement beforehand." He tapped two fingers against the wooden desk before straightening up. "Think about the pasta, Seungmin. It’s homemade~"
"Out, Lee."
With a soft chuckle, Minho turned and finally sauntered toward the exit, waving a hand over his shoulder without looking back. Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a slow breath as the door clicked shut. Incorrigible. Annoying. Completely insufferable.
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By Thursday, Seungmin had his refusal ready before Minho even walked through the door.
Except Minho didn't walk through the door.
At 8:52 AM, the lecture hall remained entirely empty. Seungmin stared at the clock on the back wall. The second hand swept past the twelve, clicking steadily toward 9:00 AM.
He’s late, Seungmin thought, uncapping his marker. Good. Maybe he finally got the hint.
By Friday, there was still no sign of him. No obnoxious greetings, no unwanted coffee dropped on his desk, no persistent invitations to restaurants Seungmin had zero intention of going to.
By Monday morning, Seungmin found himself standing at the lectern at 8:50 AM, staring at the closed heavy oak door of Lecture Hall B, his fingers clenching the wooden edge so tightly his knuckles turned white.
It was ridiculous. It was a relief. He had his mornings back. He could review his lecture notes in peace without a smug physics professor leaning against his front row and invading his space.
So why was he checking his watch every thirty seconds?
"Alright," Seungmin muttered to the empty room, his voice sharp against the concrete walls as he slammed his notebook shut. "Let's see what's so important."
He didn't walk across the quad; he marched. The morning air was crisp, but Seungmin barely noticed as he pushed through the glass doors of the Science & Engineering building, stepping into the dim hallway of the Physics department. He stopped outside Minho's office and gripped the door handle, fully prepared to deliver a concise, professional lecture on basic courtesy and professional boundaries.
He knocked twice, hard, and pushed the door open without waiting. "Dr. Lee, I hope you realize-"
The words froze in his throat.
Minho was at his desk, leaning back in his chair with a stack of papers in his lap. But he wasn't alone. Sitting on the edge of the desk was Professor Han Jisung from Astronomy, laughing softly at something Minho had just said. Minho’s head was tilted up, that same easy, infuriating smile on his face.
Neither of them noticed him right away.
Seungmin stood in the doorway, his chest tightening so suddenly it caught him off guard. A hot, sharp sensation twisted right beneath his ribs, burning straight up to his throat.
Jealous? Absolutely not. That was absurd. He was a rational man. He taught limits and derivatives. He did not get jealous over a chaotic physics professor who didn't know how to take no for an answer.
Then Minho looked up, his dark eyes meeting Seungmin's across the room. The easy smile on Minho's face paused, shifting into something unreadable.
"Professor Kim," Minho said, his voice smooth, stripped of the usual flirtatious drop it usually had when they were alone. "Did you need something from the physics department?"
Seungmin straightened his spine, adjusting the cuff of his coat to hide the slight tremor in his fingers.
"No," Seungmin said, his voice entirely flat, entirely cool. "I was just making sure you hadn't forgotten how to find the math building. But I see you're busy."
Seungmin turned on his heel before Minho could utter another word, letting the heavy door slam shut behind him with a resounding thud.
He practically flew down the corridor, his shoes clicking sharply against the linoleum. His heart was pounding a frantic, illogical rhythm against his ribs. Professor Kim. Not Seungminnie. Not even Seungmin. Just the cold, clinical title he had spent three weeks demanding Minho use.
He should have been thrilled. He got exactly what he asked for.
"Seungmin, wait."
The voice echoed down the quiet hallway, followed by the quick, deliberate sound of footsteps catching up. Seungmin didn't slow down. He pushed open the heavy exterior doors, stepping out into the crisp morning air of the quad.
A hand caught his wrist: not hard, but firm enough to break his momentum.
Seungmin whipped around, tearing his arm free and stepping back to glare at Minho. The physics professor was slightly out of breath, his dark hair messy from the sudden chase, his jacket unbuttoned. He looked entirely human, entirely unbothered, and utterly infuriating.
"What, Professor Han wasn't keeping your attention?" Seungmin snapped, the venom dripping from his words before his brain could filter them out.
Minho’s eyebrows lifted slightly, a slow, dangerous spark appearing in his dark eyes. "Is that what this is about?"
"This isn't about anything," Seungmin said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest like armor. "I came to ask why you suddenly stopped harassing me before my 9:00 AM. It’s disruptive to my routine when you change your behavior without notice."
"Disruptive," Minho repeated softly. The corners of his mouth twitched, threatening a smile that made Seungmin’s blood boil. "I thought I was giving you what you wanted. You told me on Friday that you were deliberately avoiding me. I decided to respect your boundaries."
"Oh, so now you care about boundaries, Minho? When it's convenient for you to entertain the Astronomy department?" Seungmin clamped his jaw shut immediately. Stop talking. Stop speaking right now.
Minho took a single step forward, closing the distance between them. The playful amusement in his eyes melted away, replaced by something deep, focused, and intensely quiet.
"Jisung was dropping off mid-term schedules," Minho said, his voice dropping into that low, warm register that used to make Seungmin’s teeth grit. "He was in my office for two minutes. And I didn't go to your lecture hall because I thought I was driving you crazy."
"You were driving me crazy," Seungmin muttered, staring resolutely at the top button of Minho’s shirt rather than looking him in the eye.
"Were?" Minho asked gently.
Seungmin felt the warmth creeping up his neck, burning his ears. He hated how perceptive Minho was. He hated how easily Minho stripped away his carefully constructed logic and left him standing in the middle of the quad, utterly exposed.
"I am a man of routine," Seungmin said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I don't like when things... change."
"Neither do I," Minho said softly. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Seungmin's sleeve, just above his wrist, hesitating before resting there lightly. "I hated not seeing you this morning, Seungmin."
Seungmin’s eyes snapped up to Minho's face. The mock-arrogance was completely gone. Minho was looking at him with an earnestness that made Seungmin's chest ache in a way calculus could never explain.
"You're an idiot," Seungmin breathed, though there was no bite left in it.
"Probably," Minho agreed easily, a soft, real smile breaking across his face. "Does this mean the homemade pasta is back on the table?"
Seungmin swallowed hard, adjusting his leather satchel over his shoulder to give his hands something to do. He looked away toward the math building, pretending to consider it.
"If the reservations are for 7:00 PM," Seungmin said coldly, trying (and failing) to suppress the faint tug at the corner of his lips. "And if you are even one minute late, I am ordering the most expensive thing on the menu and leaving you with the bill."
Minho’s laugh was bright, ringing clear out over the empty quad. "I'll be ten minutes early, Professor Kim."