“Is… is there another student I could tutor?” Namjoon stammered, heat rising in his cheeks. He could already feel the awkwardness building, a potential reprieve for Jin. Jin was popular, effortlessly so, and Namjoon understood the pressure to maintain that image. It wasn’t about stereotypes; it was about expectations.
“I have one more option for you: Kim Taehyung?” The teacher offered a strained smile.
Kim Taehyung? The boy who’d shattered him? The one who’d stolen his innocence all those years ago? The one who’d taken his virginity, leaving a raw ache that hadn’t healed? The one he still couldn’t exorcise from his mind?
Kim Seokjin was a better option. “Do you have anything else I could do?”
The teacher’s brow furrowed. “It’s either this or nothing. I’m sure another student would gladly take the opportunity.” Mr. Min genuinely liked Namjoon, valued his diligence, and often chuckled at the sight of his glasses perpetually sliding down his nose.
But Namjoon was his best student. The others could learn from him. Especially Seokjin, with his careless swagger, his blatant flirting, his crumpled paper projectiles, his failing grades, and the constant trips to the restroom—Namjoon had caught him ditching class more than once.
Seokjin could learn so much from Namjoon. Discipline. Focus. Respect.
“I… I’ll do it,” Namjoon murmured, almost too quietly to hear. His mother would be proud.
The teacher nodded, handing him a schedule. Namjoon’s throat tightened as he scanned the dates. Every day except Wednesdays. Even weekends.
“Jin might not show up on some days, you know how he is. Don’t wait around for him. Go find him. The kid’s trouble.”
Namjoon swallowed, a familiar lump forming in his throat. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
“Go get him, will you?” The teacher asked, his attention already returning to his papers.
Another swallow. Nodding, even though the teacher wasn’t looking at him, Namjoon headed for the door.
There he was, Jin. His hair catching the sunlight, radiating warmth. Red lips, slightly parted. Smooth, flawless skin. A lean, elegant body.
Namjoon shuddered. He was breathtaking. *Control yourself, Namjoon.*
“J-Jin,” Namjoon called out, and the older turned, stealing the air from his lungs.
He looked heavenly. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect. And then his eyes fell on Kim Taehyung, standing beside Jin.
The air rushed out of Namjoon’s lungs. He didn’t want to be here. Anywhere but here.
Taehyung’s face fell when he saw Namjoon. He watched him, assessing, still devastatingly handsome.
Not in the way Jin was. Taehyung possessed a raw, untamed beauty, an innocence that belied the darkness within.
Memories flooded Taehyung’s mind, and he shivered, remembering the years he’d spent with Namjoon. He certainly wasn’t innocent. Unaware of his own actions, Taehyung licked his lips.
Namjoon froze. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t tutor Jin. He couldn’t be near Kim Taehyung.
After all these years, he was still drowning. He couldn’t breathe.
He ran. He always ran when Jin was involved. He ran away. He always ran.