The school is full of crazy people. No matter where Junhong goes, he can’t escape the insanity.

In the teacher’s lounge between classes, Jongup is always there with his puppy dog eyes and pestering questions. Always demanding to know what’s happened so far today, and what Junhong thinks, apparently supposed to use psychic powers that he doesn’t possess, will happen later.

As if Junhong can ever accurately predict such a thing with him in his class.

At which point in the conversation, Himchan will inevitably show up with a grand entrance.

Literally, a grand entrance.

Apparently, when not actively working, he pays Daehyun to enter a room before he does and play some sort of epic music (it changes day to day to keep things interesting) as a theme song from his phone. Sometimes, Daehyun also throws rose petals.

Today is one of those days.

Junhong sighs heavily as pink and red petals land on his clothes. Brushing them off, he tries to flee the room stealthily, before Himchan can notice him. Unfortunately, Himchan, despite his flawless exterior of inflated ego and an over-sized sense of self-importance, is really just a big ol’ mama bear. And Junhong is one of his favorite cubs.

Oh, the joy.

“You’re looking pale, Junnie. Did you sleep enough last night? Eat enough?  You probably forgot to nap yesterday, didn’t you?” Himchan continues on without waiting for a response to any of his questions, squeezing Junhong’s cheeks and a napkin to wipe imaginary dirt off his face. Junhong tries to squirm away, but Himchan, like a real bear, has grabby paws that won’t release him.

“Is it about him again? Give me the word. If he does anything inappropriate again, give me the word, and I’ll take care of it.”

Junhong frowns, worriedly glancing at Jongup who’s taken to break dancing in front of the microwave.

For all his big talk, Himchan is not a fighter. Junhong says as much which earns him an extra sloppy kiss on the cheek. It’s disgusting. If he’d wanted gross grandma kisses, he would’ve stayed at his home in the country, thank you very much.

“Junnie. Sweet, innocent Junnie. I wouldn’t do it myself, of course. That’s what I have people for,” Himchan explains, pointing toward Daehyun.

Youngjae arrives then with a bag of flower petals. He hands them to Daehyun accompanied by a quick kiss before he turns disapproving eyes toward Himchan who immediately deflates like a balloon.

Junhong doesn’t feel bad at all for the delight it causes him. Ha.

Retreating behind Jongup, who’s thankfully stopped dancing after accidentally kicking one of the other teachers as she passed by, Himchan sniffs in a put-out manner. “It wasn’t like I was going to have him do anything illegal…”

Youngjae merely raised an eyebrow, circling his arm around Daehyun’s waist in a clear show of possession, making sure Himchan knew exactly who Daehyun belonged to.

Jongup, for once picking up on the awkwardness without assistance from others, pulls Himchan away to the other side of the room where Junhong can hear them excitedly talking about a new line of cameras specifically designed for self-portraits.

Himchan wants one. Jongup has already pre-ordered it for him.

Youngjae and Daehyun are two feet away, talking about what they’ll have for dinner tonight but looking and sounding like they’re talking about something very, very different.

They are all crazy.  

*****

Bang Yongguk, also known as the infamous him that is able to irritate Junhong more successfully than just about anyone else, has reached a new record in pissing Junhong off.

Yongguk is young, stylish, athletic, brilliant, and charismatic. He’s also the biggest pain in the that Junhong has ever met.

In the halls, the student ignores Junhong as if he doesn’t exist. He won’t return morning greetings, friendly smiles, or even a simple head nod of acknowledgement.

Junhong wouldn’t care so much about it if Yongguk wasn’t so different in class. In the room, sat at his desk all bright eyed and eager, Yongguk is a completely different person. He answers almost every question that Junhong poses to the class whether he is called upon or not. He volunteers to come up to the board to answer problems. A few times, he’d even gone so far as to ask if he could stay after to help Junhong clean up.

Which had been when he’d first noticed his student’s interest wasn’t as academic as he’d been lead to believe.

One awkward and tense conversation later about inappropriately touching a teacher, and Junhong’s life hasn’t been the same since.

It seems that he’s accidently awakened some sort of illogical, thick-headed, hormone crazed beast in Yongguk. Up until today, it’s been little things that were easy for Junhong to ignore. Silly notes written on the backs of homework. A piece of chocolate waiting in the top drawer of his desk at the beginning of class. Thinly veiled comments Yongguk is lucky the rest of the student’s are too slow to interpret.

And of course, the staring.

No matter where Junhong stands, no matter where he sits, he can always feel the intensity of Yongguk’s gaze burning into him during class.

He hates it. Or, more accurately, he hates the way it makes him feel.

Yongguk may be seventeen, but he looks older. Most of the time, he even acts older. It is easy for Junhong to forget their age difference while they have intense conversations about literature, politics, the importance of spaying and neutering pets, things that Junhong can never talk about with Himchan, Daehyun, Jongup, or Youngjae.

So when Yongguk looks at Junhong, watching him like a calculating predator across the room, and his eyes are all deep and mesmerizing, twin pools of darkness that are sure to end up dragging Junhong down to hell—well, Junhong can only control himself so much.

He’s been doing a good job of it too, until today when Yongguk pushes the limits unfairly in his favor.

It’s Yongguk’s senior year. He’ll graduate top of his class and rightly so. Junhong is immensely proud of Yongguk’s achievement, also feeling a sense of accomplishment in himself for teaching so well.

Except, there’s a test today.

It’s been scheduled for weeks, and they’ve gone over the material so many times in class that Junhong’s taken to dreaming about it once in awhile. He passes out the papers exasperatedly, knowing that at least four of his student’s are likely to fail as they’ve been not paying attention the whole semester. It’s beyond frustrating when potential is wasted like that.

At least he can look forward to the inevitability of Yongguk’s perfect score. The thought cheers him up as he sits behind his desk and carefully watches the known cheaters in the back corner for any funny business. Throughout the test, he can feel Yongguk staring at him. It is unnerving but only because of the warmth it causes to rise in his chest.

The bell rings and Junhong stands up with a smile to collect the tests. “Have a nice weekend, everyone!”

The students bolt from their seats, leaving their papers over their desks. From the corner of his eye, Junhong can see Yongguk at his usual seat, seemingly not in any hurry to go. Thinking back to the grab he’d received the last time Yongguk stayed after class, Junhong blushes and turns away, hoping, and yet at the same time secretly not, that his student will leave while his back is turned.

He isn’t really all that surprised to find him still there minutes later.

“Yongguk, class is over. You should be leaving now.” Junhong sighs as he towers over the seated boy, reaching out to pick up the last, and undoubtedly best, test.

Yongguk smirks cockily and nods toward the paper. “I thought you might want to talk about my test.”

Blinking in confusion, brows furrowed, Junhong flips the paper over.

It’s blank. Completely and utterly unmarked, every question left unanswered.

Junhong, understandably, is furious. He places his palms flat against Yongguk’s desk and leans down in his face to properly voice his rage. Up close, he can count the boy’s eyelashes, feel his warm breath. It makes his heart flutter.

“What is this? What do you think you’re doing?”

“Failing,” Yongguk shrugs, a snotty half-smile tugging at his plump lips.

“Why?”

“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Choi.”

Junhong swallows thickly, suddenly choking on the distance, or lack thereof, between them. Yongguk, the brilliant little bastard, looks triumphant already. This doesn’t bode well for Junhong at all. Quietly, not really wanting to hear what is about to be said because he’s sure it’s nothing good, Junhong asks what he means. If possible, Yongguk grins wider.

“Nothing annoys you more than a student wasting their potential, right?” He waits until Junhong nods before continuing. “Well, Mr. Choi, if you keep fighting this, I will fail every test in all my classes for the rest of the year. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Junhong gasps, in outrage and shock, both scandalized and a little bit impressed, as Yongguk closes the space between them and places a gentle kiss on his lips. It only lasts a second, a long, searing second that Junhong wishes were an eternity, and then Yongguk is leaning back in his chair and appearing very pleased with himself.

Junhong knows his feelings for his student are ill-advised, dirty, dangerous even, but what's a guy to do when Yongguk's determined? He can’t in good conscience let the boy fail. That would make him a very bad teacher. And well, maybe, he’s wanted this all along.

Sighing in defeat, Junhong nods slowly. Yongguk starts to smile, moving closer to hopefully kiss Junhong again, but then his face clouds and he pulls back. His eyes search Junhong’s closely.

“You’re…you’re not really agreeing just so I’ll keep up my grades, are you?”

It’s the first time Junhong has ever heard hesitance in Yongguk’s voice. It is endearing.

Smiling softly, Junhong places a kiss on the edge of Yongguk’s mouth before leaning their foreheads together. “No.”

The school is full of crazy people. Apparently, Junhong is one of them.