a/n: Belated HBD to the brightest moon in the sky, Moontae! ♥ Let us all bask in the 2Tae!

Description: Taeil, the awkward professor who likes the curve of Taeyong's lmao.

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Moon Taeil hates the rain.

He hates it when the water leaks into the threadbare tips of his leather boots and when he can’t see enough through his eyeglasses that he’d wish they’d grow wiper blades.

Today, well within the summer heat of June, rain decides to pay a stealthy visit and Taeil realizes too late that he had left his umbrella at his apartment (it’s summer though; no one really carries an umbrella around Seoul in this scorching weather). The air is misty and it fogs his eyeglasses. He curses inwardly at the awful timing.

Maybe he is having a bad day. But that would mean he’s already had at least three bad days within the week (he missed his train on Monday and slept on his alarm clock on Tuesday), and it’s only just Wednesday. So maybe a better way to deduce the cause of all these unfortunate events is that he’s tangled up in a perpetual string of bad luck.

“Need a ride, Professor?”

It’s not that hard to recognize Lee Taeyong in his all-black leather ensemble when he parks his Ducati scrambler near the sidewalk, running its wheels into a puddle and spraying gutter water on Taeil’s entire pants. The notorious chaebol is the only student who can probably afford one in the entire block.  Taeil gives the college freshman a nasty scowl, watching the rain crystalize over his black helmet before curving against its open shield, a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.

Great. Now he has to endure fifty pairs of judging eyes on his wet crotch during his Astronomy classes. To top it off, the hottest freshman in the university is presently staring at a soggy excuse of a person – also known as Taeil – who will be the first to mar the perfect finish of his seven-thousand-dollar Ducati. Just great. He stares hard at the unfazed teenager.

Taeyong’s eyes drop to the tip of the lollipop stick and he plucks it out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, did you want some?”

Taeil shakes his head, waters flying out his damp hair as he throws his sling bag over his head. The rain plummets harder, pounding like pebbles on the cheap leatherette, and Taeil curses in his head for the second time today.

“Here.” Taeyong unclips a smaller helmet from the handle of his motorcycle and shoves it into Taeil’s hands. Its bright pink shell is startling to say the least, but the Hello Kitty print at the top makes it even more uncharacteristic, bordering laughable.

Taeil throws the freshman a bewildered look.

“It’s my sister’s, okay,” Taeyong spews, his tongue pushing his lollipop to the side of his mouth, the round candy bobbing in his cheek. “Don’t judge.”

“Right.” The straps of the pea-sized helmet won’t even lock under Taeil’s chin so he opts for a knot instead (he wonders if Johnny was right about his head having a weird geometrical shape). He hops onto the back of the bike, leaving a couple of inches between him and Taeyong and trying hard not to stare at the way Taeyong’s black suit clings to his and thighs.

“Shall we?”

Taeyong steps on the gas before Taeil could even say yes, and the sudden attack of the blistering wind gives him a hefty whiff of the chaebol’s musky perfume. The scrambler flashes into the rain, its body seismic beneath them, and Taeil braces his hands on the sides of his seat, his knuckles paling out while inertia takes over.

The rain dribbles on, playing a monotonous beat, and Taeil can see Taeyong staring at him through the side mirror, his eyes looking very much entertained.

“Is it your first time on a motorbike?”

Taeil shakes his head feverishly. It’s his first time riding with someone on a motorbike. Those are two different things.

“Here.” Taeyong grabs Taeil’s hand and coils it around his waist. “Hold tight.”

The Ducati rockets forward, Taeil’s life seemingly flashing before his eyes, buildings turning into fizzles and lines, the wind merciless against his skin. His nails dig into Taeyong’s suit, clinging onto the slippery fabric like his life depends on it.

(It does actually.)

By the time Taeyong steps on the brakes, Taeil’s fingers are hooked into the buckle of Taeyong’s belt, his eyes shut tight, wrinkles digging into the skin around the slits.

“We’re here, Professor.”

The first thing Taeil sees when he opens his eyes is the amused look of a group of sophomores walking past the parking lot, and he instantly recognizes two as his students. He ducks his head and realizes too late that his helmet doesn’t even have a shield. There’s no saving his image (if he even had a good one to begin with). The rain has turned soft, a ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds, and Taeil wishes he just called in sick today instead of being here.

“If it makes you feel any better, you actually look cute with wet hair.”

Taeil turns around to see Taeyong pulling the lollipop out of his mouth, a slick pop ringing in his ears. Taeyong slips his fingers under Taeil’s chin, undoing the knot on the straps before yanking the helmet off his head.

A pair of freshmen passes by this time, cooing at them with a mischievous grin.

“Thanks for the ride,” Taeil mutters with an awkward smile.

Taeyong pulls his helmet off his head, a mix of sweat and rain glistening on his sideburns, his dark brown hair sticking out from all angles.

Taeil finds it quite charming. He’s dancing dangerously close to the hazard line.

“Anytime.”

When Taeil opens the door to the faculty room minutes later, Johnny is already on his feet.

“I saw you get off that Ducati. You sly, little—”

“Save it,” Taeil cuts his friend off, dropping his bag on the desk, water dripping off the edges.

“Tell me you didn’t like it.”

Taeil opts out and just smiles quietly to himself.