There’s something about math that fascinates him. There’s a certain charm in the numbers, the way they work out, the way they don’t. There’s a magic in the sheer exhilaration of it all, in the facts that must be held true, in the pure mechanics of algebra.

Math is the only truth in life, Sunggyu thinks, even though it’s a really terrible truth, one that keeps him awake until four in the morning trying to figure stuff out.

Obviously, Sunggyu’s life is stressful; besides that, though, he also works at a learning center, and the only thing keeping him there anymore is the fact that he can help kids learn to love math. Otherwise, between his boss and the ungodly hours, Sunggyu would have quit long ago.

Well, okay, there’s also Howon, his fellow coworker and friend who works with the more independent, higher-level kids. All he really has to do is grade papers all day, and Sunggyu envies him.

Their boss, Heechul, has only two moods: extremely kind and considerate, or extremely pissed off at everyone for absolutely no reason. Honestly, if it wasn’t to keep Howon company, Sunggyu would have hightailed it out the moment he hit junior year.

But no, as it is, Sunggyu goes through emotional trauma every other day because he’s way too nice to abandon his undeserving friend. Crush. Friend.

Okay, yeah, so maybe that’s it. Maybe Sunggyu is just a little bit gay, and maybe he has just the littlest crush on Howon. In his defense, though, Howon has the sharpest jawline, the cutest pointed canines, and the nicest washboard abs.

There’s just one little problem: he sasses Sunggyu to no end, and if there’s one thing that Sunggyu can’t stand, it’s his younger friends roasting him.

“Hey, hyung.” Speak of the devil, there he is. A stressed frown creases Howon’s forehead as he makes his way to Sunggyu’s table. “Can you grade these for me?”

“Of course.” Neither Sunggyu nor Howon would ever take their work as a joke (especially since they’re making money off of it), and Howon hands Sunggyu a thick stack of papers, flashing a grateful smile.

“Thanks, hyung,” he murmurs in a rare moment of sincerity and vulnerability. Slightly taken aback, Sunggyu watches him rush back to his desk, where a kid is waiting for help.

Almost unwittingly, Sunggyu smiles, touched by Howon’s genuinity, how much he really cares for his kids, although honestly, everyone who works here does, or they wouldn’t be working here. With a decisive shake of his head, Sunggyu clears his mind and gets to grading.

Not even two seconds have passed before Sunggyu hears a loud, angry voice. “Sunggyu,” Heechul barks sharply. “Check on your kids. I don’t care about the grading, you know that. I care about the kids, so help them.”

Holding in his anger, Sunggyu nods, forcing an awkward smile, and rises out of his chair to check on his kids, even though at the beginning of work today, Heechul had specifically told him to let the kids do their work on their own. Ugh. He can’t wait to get out of this hole, but no, ing Lee Howon--

“Hey, how are you doing?” he asks softly. His only kid, Sungjong, a second-grader working on division, looks up happily.

“This is really easy!” he exclaims quite loudly. Sunggyu winces, hoping Sungjong didn’t notice the small movement, and hurriedly shushes him.

“That’s great!” he makes sure to tell the small boy. “Keep up the good work!”

As soon as Sunggyu’s hits his seat again, Myungsoo walks in, and Sunggyu feels his entire soul being lifted and cleansed. Actually, Myungsoo’s not even his kid; he’s in the level above. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately in Sunggyu’s case), Woohyun, who manages that particular level, happens to be the general math department leader, and Sunggyu usually takes on both levels.

Myungsoo, with his sweet and quiet nature, is one of Sunggyu’s favorite students. Well, technically, the instructors aren’t supposed to play favorites, but hey, they’re all only human, right? Plus, when Myungsoo first walked in, he could barely even look Sunggyu in the eye. Over time, though, he warmed up quite quickly, and Sunggyu found out the hard way to never let Myungsoo talk more than two sentences at a time.

“Hey, Myungsoo,” Sunggyu greets with a smile. “Do you have your homework?”

“Yep!” Myungsoo reaches into his backpack and pulls out a sheaf of crumpled papers. Sunggyu’s smile freezes on his face, and he swallows a sigh.

“Okay, do your practice pages,” he instructs, organizing Myungsoo’s homework. “Hey, Dongwoo, help me with this.”

Dongwoo, despite drowning in his own kids who don’t know how to subtract, grabs the papers anyway. Sunggyu feels a small twinge of guilt as he watches his friend hunch over his knees. Maybe he should have gotten Woohyun to do it; the didn’t have anything to do anyway.

“Gyu.” Dongwoo slaps the papers down on Sunggyu’s desk and whirls away. Sunggyu blinks. Of course Dongwoo’s smart, Sunggyu knows, but damn, mental long division in about ten seconds flat? That is a completely different level of intelligence.

“Sunggyu-hyung,” Myungsoo whines, shoving his practice pages in Sunggyu’s face. “Help me.”

Breaking his thoughts away from Dongwoo, Sunggyu casts a quick glance around (Heechul is obstinate about kids doing practice pages on their own) and looks over the problem. Oh, no big deal, just 28479 divided by 34. Psh, Myungsoo knows how to do this.

“Does 34 go into 2?” Sunggyu prompts. “No. What about 28? That’s also no, but 284, then, is a yes. To figure that out, first we need to estimate. How many times does 3 go into 28?”

“9,” Myungsoo answers promptly.

“Good. Try that for now, and if it doesn’t work, maybe it’s too big, so then you should…”

--

“I ing swear,” Sunggyu mutters darkly as they wait for their parents to pick them up. “That place gives me ing anxiety, and I don’t even have anxiety.”

Howon glances at him out the corner of his eye. Sunggyu thinks he sees the barest hint of a smile ghosting his lips. “Heechul’s just an ,” he states simply. “Well, an who, to be fair, has to deal with brats. Plus, hyung, you shouldn’t cuss in front of said brats.”

Sunggyu waves goodbye to one of his kids with a sweet smile. “Like you can say anything,” he retorts, smile disappearing in a split second. “Want to hang out sometime?”

To Howon, Sunggyu probably sounds casual, but God knows how long he’s practiced that one single line. Totally not all of last night, definitely not on the way here, and absolutely not for the entire four hours they’ve been in that goddamned room.

But Howon doesn’t know, and that’s all that matters. “Sure,” he answers with a smile. “When and where?”

Sunggyu takes in a breath. He hadn’t expected Howon to agree to easily. “Tomorrow,” he blurts out. “At, um… at the…”

“How about that new grocery store down the street?” Howon suggests, and Sunggyu is actually thankful towards him for once. “We can judge the things they sell and the people who buy them. Two to four?”

“One to three-thirty,” Sunggyu corrects apologetically. “I have piano at four.”

“One to three-thirty,” Howon agrees, eyes suddenly fixating themselves upon a small silver car. “I have to go. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“Bye.” Sunggyu can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, or the small victory pump he does. A Civic, he thinks giddily. Howon’s family owns a silver Honda Civic.

A horn honks, and Sunggyu very nearly jumps out of his skin. His own mother is pulled up right in front of him, and she does not look very happy.

Whoops. He sort of needs her in a good mood right now, if only to be able to acquire permission for tomorrow. With that in mind, Sunggyu practically dives into the backseat.

Note that what Sunggyu said about his job giving him anxiety and him not even having anxiety is actually something I've said to my friend before. Neither of us means to make fun of anyone who has anxiety. Also, the Honda Civic has nothing to do with my own life lol; it's just the first car I thought of. The meeting at the grocery store, I actually had the exact same conversation with a friend about meeting up there, so I used our own conversation (except it was a Friday so I had volunteering, not piano, at 4).