Lessons After Hours

Chapter 1: The First Lecture

God, the way his name sounded in that voice—

"Yeah," Wooyoung said, clearing his throat. "I had a question about the project structure."

San nodded and gestured to the seat across from him. "Shoot."

They went over the rubric for a few minutes—San explained things clearly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk as he talked. 

Wooyoung tried to stay focused, but the faint scent of his cologne—warm, woodsy—was dangerously distracting.

"You're sharp," San said suddenly. "You didn't need help with this, did you?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened. "What?"

San leaned back in his chair, one brow raised. "Your notes were already detailed. You came down here for something else."

The pause between them thickened.

Wooyoung's pulse thudded. "I just wanted to double-check."

"Mhm." San tilted his head, smiling like he didn't buy it, but wasn't going to push. "Fair enough."

Wooyoung grabbed his bag quickly. "Thanks, Professor."

San called after him just before he reached the door.

"By the way," he said, voice lower, more amused. 

"Britney Spears is a great karaoke choice. But next time, try 'Buttons' by The Pussycat Dolls. More of a... statement."

Wooyoung blinked. His brain short-circuited just long enough for him to forget how to breathe.

He turned slowly. San was still smiling, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"That's... not very academic of you," Wooyoung managed.

San shrugged.

 "Neither are karaoke nights. But life's too short not to sing something scandalous now and then."

Wooyoung laughed, despite himself, and ducked out of the room before he could embarrass himself further.

The walk back to his dorm felt longer than usual.

Wooyoung kept replaying that final smirk San had thrown at him—how casually it had been delivered, like a pebble skipping across a still lake. 

But Wooyoung felt the ripple effects, deep and sharp in the center of his chest.

"Try Buttons," he mimicked under his breath, scoffing. "What kind of professor says that?"

A hot one, that annoying little voice inside him whispered.

He shook it off, fingers twitching as he unlocked his door and flopped face-first onto his bed. 

The pillow did little to muffle the muffled scream he let out.

He knows. He knows. He definitely knows.

He pulled out his phone, firing off a group text to Yeosang and Seonghwa.

Wooyoung: "HELP. I THINK HE FLIRTED. Or he's just evil and knows I'm repressing gay thoughts."

Yeosang: "That's called attraction, sweetie. It's okay. Let it consume you."

Seonghwa: "What did he say?"

Wooyoung: "'Try Buttons next time.'" 😳

Yeosang: "I KNEW HE WAS FILTHY."

Seonghwa: "...yeah, that's flirting."

Yeosang: "You're doomed. RIP Wooyoung's self-control."