Key stood before his class, fixing his glasses. He’d been teaching at Seoul Academy for almost three weeks now. The Daegu boy cleared his throat to gather the attention of his class, and mentally grinned at how easily the attention of the students was grabbed.

Minho sat in the front row, beaming at him in that strange knowing was that he had been since he’d witnessed he and Louis hugging that day. A boy to his left, Jonghyun kept looking over at the dark haired boy in mild shock at how weirdly he was staring at his teacher. Key thought he’d probably be doing the same to Minho if he were in Jonghyun’s shoes.

“Alright, class. Um, so I was thinking that after we’ve been studying The Hunger Games for so long, that maybe you guys need an assignment.” He leaned back against his desk as he heard the chorus of groans. “Hey, hey, calm down guys! It won’t be a massive assignment; I just want you all to write me a short story on anything of your choice.” He said with a grin. The class lightened up slightly. “Look, I honestly don’t mind what you write about or how well it’s written, I just want you guys to give me a story.”

The room of students shrugged and pulled out their books, starting work. Minho though, had his hand high in the air. Key sighed, “Yes, Minho?”

“When you say anything, do you actually mean anything?” He asked with a very cheeky grin on his face.

Key laughed softly and nodded. “That is the general meaning of the word. Now, c’mon you’ve only got two periods to do it in.”

______

An hour and a half later, Key was collecting the papers from the students and packing them into his bag. He stood up and stretched, hearing a few of his muscles crack softly as he did so.

“You know, that’s probably not good for you.” A teasing voice said from behind him.

Chuckling. Key turned and faced Taemin, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Well, neither is the mess you insist we live in, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“You complain every day! ‘Taemin, pick up your boxers!’ , ‘Taemin, was the dishes!’ , and my personal favorite, ‘Taemin who is this guy passed out on our coach?!’” The younger boy joked, imitating Key with a high and feminine voice.

“You’re a prick. Plus, that guy was creepy.”

“He was good in bed though.” Taemin said with a wink.

Key shuddered over-exaggeratedly. “Thanks for that mental image.” He muttered, smiling to show his joking.

“Not like you need to imagine much, you did walk in on us ing.” Taemin shot back, not sounding the least bit embarrassed by the fact.

It was true, too. A few nights prior, Key had come home from work on a Friday (or Taemin’s day off as y’d come to refer to it) early. He’d shrugged off his jacket and kicked his shoes across the hallway before walking into the lounge room. 

“Hey Minnie, what are you-oh ! Sorry!” Key had cried out walking in on Taemin bent over the back of the couch with a rather tall brunette ing him senselessly. The older boy had instantly covered his eyes and ran out of the room and into the bedroom.

That night had been one of the most awkward ever, with Key being unable to look Taemin directly in the eyes without a blush forming over the memory of his face contorted with pleasure. 

“Key, you’re blushing.” Taemin said quickly, pulling Key out of his memory and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

The older boy shook his head, laughing. “Just remembering that night considering you brought it up. that was awkward.” He muttered, grinning as Taemin seemed to go slightly red as they approached his Porsche.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m so glad I