When Taehyung came home from after-school lessons, he instantly went up to his room and pushed his backpack under his desk. The day had been quite nasty, because the words from his inappropriate text had bounced through his head every free minute like a hyperactive four-year-old. He knew he had a thing for boys because of his teen-crush on Junghan, but the thought of having sex with a teacher, even if he looked as young and as handsome as Mr. Kim, was disgusting. Still, his mind kept chewing on it like it was an especially nasty piece of flesh; those pieces you chew on, until your jaw hurts and you have to spit it out. Unfortunately, he did not know how to spit out thoughts, so his mind kept working on it.

Helping his mother in the kitchen, doing some extra homework, eating and talking did not change it to the better. Whatever he did, wherever he went, the picture of him being bent over the table followed him like his shadow. At some point he could have sworn that he was able to feel the cold surface of the fake-wood table on his cheek, and the nervous clenching of his hole could make it into a new tantra exercise. The latter constantly pushed him into the state of being half-hard. It was annoying.

Lying in bed inside a dark room with all the things that could distract him hiding behind the charcoal curtain of night was not helping either.

But to his delight, the next two days would be Namjoon-free. Or so he hoped.

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Tuesday was the first day Taehyung experienced at school what the small text had done to him, and he understood that Junghan's dare indeed had been the worst his friend had ever created. Unaffected by the actuality that he did not intentionally look out for him, Taehyung would always know when Mr. Kim was around. No matter if the man stood at the other end of the hallway or behind a corner, he would always sense his presence. It was like the sonorous voice suddenly had become as painfully shrill as Kim Rina's, so he could make it out in the jungle of other tunes, and like the plain, dark hair had tuned bright red, so he would see him even in the giant crowd that waltzed into the cafeteria at lunch break.

When he stared at the tall man during lunch, he interrogated his brain on how it could possibly make him out in the crowd. His student-like outfit with the navy dress pants and the checked jacket over the old-fashioned pullunder should make him invisible, even if it was not the exact same outfit. But for some reason, only his fellow students overlooked him, whereas Taehyung's eyes were practically glued to the slim frame of the student teacher.

"What're you staring at?" Junghan asked him after selling some cigarettes under the table, literally.

"Mrs. Lee's substitute," Taehyung answered, voice even.

"Kim Namjoon? Why?" his friend asked.

"So that was his name?" he replied. Of course, he knew the name of his 7/11 fantasy. How could he not? But, unlike so many others, he had understood the power of names. Calling someone or something by its real name made it much more physical. The word 'spider', for example, makes most people cringe unintentionally, whereas 'the fauna's talented weaver' did not. He used this small lingual mechanism to prevent him from getting emotional with the topic and not to appear suspicious. Junghan would not let him off the hook if he knew. "Don't you think it's strange for a teacher to look like a student?" he continued in a bored tune and stuffed his mouth with the soggy Kimchi of their school's kitchen.

Junghan looked at him like he was not sure whether he should answer that question or simply ignore it. His friend decided to tilt his head cockily and shrug his shoulders. Danger averted.

Taehyung mirrored him and tried to brush all those thoughts off, hoping tomorrow he would be less affected. But, oh, how wrong he was.

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Wednesday turned out to be worse because he saw the young teacher even more often than before. His mind happily opened the Pandora box of lewd words and phrases and they joyfully started to cheer whenever he sensed the presence of that one special man. It was absurd.

Taehyung knew his mind was absurd, but only now he realized to which extend it had grown. So, on Wednesday he gave up. Fighting it was way too exhausting, so he simply called defeat and allowed those filthy words and pictures to play on the hallowed lands of his pure mind. After all, he was eighteen. The dirty grown-up world would swallow him sooner or later these days.

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