A+ in Trouble || hjs - lmh

4

Minho

It started with a notebook.

At least, that's the lie I told myself.

"Han Jisung left this in my office," I told Felix, who was pacing around the campus, probably was on his way back to the dorms after being in the library.

He raised an eyebrow like I'd just confessed to murder.

"He literally lives on campus," he said, flipping the notebook in his hands. "You're telling me he couldn't grab it during your next class?"

"He needs it," I lied. "It's... important."

Felix didn't believe me. I didn't care.

I texted Jisung.

Me: You left your notebook in my office.

Han Jisung: oh no... whatever shall i do...
Han Jisung: want me to come get it, prof?
Han Jisung: be gentle. i'm delicate.

I should've said no.

Instead, I replied:

Me: I'll be in the office for another hour.
Seen: 9:14 PM

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in the doorway, jacket unzipped, tank top clinging to his collarbones like a personal attack.

"You said an hour," he said, sauntering in. "Didn't realize you were counting the seconds until I showed."

"I wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow. "You look like you haven't blinked since I got here."

I handed him the notebook. "Here."

He didn't take it.

"Is this really about the notebook," he said, "or did you just want to see me?"

Silence.

My hands tightened around the notebook.

He took a step closer. "It's okay if you did. I mean—look at me. I'd want to see me too."

"Jisung—"

"No, really. I've been doing everything short of flashing you in class and you've been pretending I'm not even breathing."

"I'm your professor."

"Yeah," he said softly, "but you're also a man. And you look at me like you want to devour me. So maybe stop pretending this is about ethics and just admit it."

The room felt smaller. My heart slammed against my ribs.

He took the notebook out of my hands and tossed it on the desk. Didn't break eye contact.

One step. Two.

Suddenly, he was in front of me, close enough to feel the heat of him. His fingers brushed my sleeve. Soft. Teasing.

"You keep pushing me away like you're doing me a favor," he whispered. "But I'm the one begging for it."

I exhaled. "Jisung—"

"Tell me you don't want to."

I didn't say anything.

He smiled. Soft. Devastating.
"Didn't think so."

And that's when I couldn't hold back anymore.

I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him like I'd been starving for years.

He made a noise—somewhere between a gasp and a whimper—and kissed me back like it was his last chance. Fingers in my hair, teeth tugging at my lip, body pressed against mine so tightly I couldn't think straight.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful.

I kissed him like I wanted to forget who I was.

And for a second—I did.

⸻

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless.

He stared at me, eyes wide, lips red and swollen.

"I knew you'd taste like sin," he whispered.

I closed my eyes. "You need to leave."

"I'm not going to."

"You need to."

"Make me."