Lights shunned through the curtains of the room, annoying the boy who's throbbing headache woke him up. He fluttered his eyes open to an unknown ceiling.

And panic arose in him.

Jimin quickly sat up, noticing he still had his pants on but not his shirt. He looked next to him but the bed was empty.

Where was he?

He looked around the clean room before standing up and drawing back the curtains, revealing a beautiful view of the city and the sunrise.

Who's house was this?

He looked around the floor for his shirt or jacket but couldn't find either, ultimately deciding that no shirt was better than walking around naked as he slowly went out the room, trying to make the least noise possible.

Jimin ruffled his messy hair as he went down the hall, no pictures decorated it which made him feel uneasy at not knowing even the slightest of who's house this was.

Walking seemed harder than ever as he tried to not make noise.

But what did it matter. As he came to the end of it, he could hear that music was being blasted from somewhere in the house. And still no sign of his shirt or jacket.

He could try and leave but just thinking of how absolutely dead he'd be if he showed up without the jacket Taehyung gifted him, made him walk towards the music.

His headache became prominent as he got closer to what appeared to be a kitchen.

The pained boy raised his hand to his head, hissing a bit as he watched a man's back hum along the music, as well as rap with them. He appeared to be cooking and it smelled like breakfast, good breakfast.

"I'm a mother fucking starboy..."

Jimin couldn't wait till he turned around as the music was truly annoying him more than he wanted it to. "Um who are you?"

But as the man turned around, his eyes went wide, his hand dropped to the side and his mouth gaped open.

"Oh you're awake! I made breakfast."

Jimin watched horrified as his professor of ethics lowered the volume of the speakers and continued to cook. That broad back, arms well toned, that tank top fit— was him?

"Sit down Jimin, I'm almost done with the eggs."

The pink haired couldn't move as he then began to look around. He couldn't believe it. "D-Did we... Did we—"

"Have sex?" The teacher laughed and turned to face his student as he served the eggs onto the rest of the breakfast that sat on the counter. "No."

Jimin let out breath of relief, his hand going to his chest as his panic decreased to mere worry.

"You did grind on me all night at the club."

"Oh god..." The boy brought his hands to his face and bended over in embarrassment. "This can't be right. This has got to be a nightmare."

"As much as I hate to interrupt your mental breakdown," Namjoon chuckled as he smiled and pointed at the plates with his spatula. "Breakfast will get cold."

Then began what possibly could the most awkward breakfast Jimin will ever have. Because unlike usual nonstop talking Kim Namjoon, this Namjoon was still quiet— he just ate and checked that Jimin was eating his breakfast as well from time to time.

The pink haired boy was more than frustrated to remember what happened. Yet the only thing he could remember....

"You bought me drinks."

Namjoon noticed the angry tone to the statement, ready to scold him as they finally looked at each other. "Yeah, you looked stressed. I didn't think such shortness came
with such irresponsibility with alcohol."

"I'm 5'8! I'm lightweight!" Jimin huffed as he dropped his silverware and crossed his arms, pissed off as he stared at his professor. "What the hell were you doing buying drinks to a student?"

"I wanted to see how you'd react." Namjoon then turned down to his plate as he slightly pouted. "I didn't think you wouldn't recognize me..."

Then the student thought about it. It wasn't the loud music or the dark lighting that didn't make him recognize the professor, not even alcohol did so. He just wasn't wearing his usual glasses—big bold frames hiding most of his face, or the typical layered outfit that made him look like a middle aged man.

"And you were talking shit about me to a stranger, asshat." He pointed at Jimin before fully poking at his side. "I should fail you for that."

Jimin still couldn't believe he had spent the night at his teacher's house. How many rules had he broken by now? "What happened after I asked you to dance?"

Namjoon looked back down, slightly smiling. "Well, we danced."

"Yeah no shit sherlock." Jimin waved his hands in a gesture for him to keep going. "Everything."

"Hmm let me think," The dirty blond hummed as he smiled. "Not only did you grind on me—"

"Skip that."

"You told a girl to back off, had an argument with her, almost tore her fake nails off, then proceeded to drink more and more," He shrugged as he turned to Jimin. "Until you passed out on the bar. I didn't see anybody with you and I wasn't about to leave you alone at that place."

Jimin groaned as he brought his hands to his forehead, frustratingly throwing his head back. "I fucking told Tae, I told him we shouldn't have gone out—"

"So you are gay."

His head snapped at the teacher, who had the most pleased look on earth, a cute smile at that.

Dammit, it really was a cute smile. "What does that matter?"

"It matters cause I won a bet."

"You bet on students' sexualities?"

The teacher rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not the only teacher who does it. We have boring jobs, we just try to make it interesting."

The student then sighed in defeat, standing up as he grabbed Namjoon's and his plate. "Well the least I can do for your hospitality is this."

Namjoon bit his lip, standing up as well, grabbing the plates from his hand. "I prefer if you get dressed."

Jimin then realized that his upper body had been colder than the rest of him. He looked down, eyes wide as he then hugged himself, his cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

"What kind of nerd finds the time to build that? Geez." He pointed out the kitchen. "Your shirt and jacket are in the living room."

Jimin slightly bowed, still hugging himself before running off to put on his shirt and jacket. There was a sigh of relief that left him as he was glad his teacher didn't point out the two bold tattoos across his torso. He found his clothes neatly folded on top of the couch. He took the shirt and dressed himself, looking around the room.

"What the fu..."

It was outstanding, that was the word. There were beautiful paintings on two of the walls, a giant flat screen on the other side, a set of grey satin covered couches surrounded a wooden coffee table. How much money did Namjoon make? He was just a professor yet his house was above prestigious.

"Found it?"

Jimin couldn't look down from the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling, eyes sparkling as each individual crystal piece gently rotated.

The teacher looked up briefly before looking down at his guest, the boy's amazement turning into a frown as he looked back down. "Nothing happened between us... right?"

Namjoon shook his head in disagreement. "Nope."

"Then why was I shirtless?" He looked up, suspicious of the owner of this wealthy home.

"You were drunk off your ass. You got here and complained it was too hot by taking off your shirt." The older shrugged. "Can't help you are a pervert."

Jimin grabbed his jacket, which held his phone and wallet, and started to walk to the front door where his shoes were. "Well, thank you for making sure I was safe. But as of now, I've stayed for too long."

"Whatever you say Jimin."

The boy turned to protest the call of his name but was quickly interrupted by a smirk.

"Not in school grounds, are we?"

Jimin rolled his eyes as he opened the door, Namjoon following behind him to close the door. As he went out the door, the younger turned around and slightly smiled. "Thanks Namjoon."

At the call of his name, not only did he smile, the professor's ears felt as if they perked. "See you in class."

He closed the door gently, locking it right afterwards. And just as he watched Jimin leave in a taxi, he felt his heart race at a hundred miles an hour. 

"Namjoon."

But of course, that wasn't the first time he called him by his name. He just wouldn't remember doing so.