Unofficial KiHyuk Week: Day 04
Title: Almost Lover
Theme: Don’t Stand So Close To Me by The Police
Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy
Pairing: HyukBum [Hyukjae x Kibum] OMG Hyukjae is topping…this is a first for me, probably for him too *snickers*
Genre: romance, angst (it does not end in angst)
Rating: PG-13, mentions of sex
Summary: Falling in love is never easy. Love is not patient, or kind. It is painful, and difficult. Professor Lee Hyukjae has read countless poems about love and heartache, he's just never experienced it himself...until a boy with a warm smile appears and poses the ultimate question: what is more important? Love or Success?
---
It was his first full-time teaching job.
It was almost his last. Intermediate Poetry: Manifestoes, Polemics, Poetics. He’d been surprised they gave him something other than an introductory class the first time around. He’d been excited, nervous, downright terrified.
Apparently it had showed. He remembered stuttering through his first lecture, fidgeting with his notes. He’d ended up reading more than half of it off of his power-point after blanking out a few times. He’d almost wept for joy when the bell rang and the entire class stood, looking as relieved to leave as he was relieved to see them do so.
“…professor…?”
He nearly tripped over the computer chord behind the podium as he turned at the low voice. He blinked up at the person standing a few feet away. His first thought was handsome, his second was probably thinks I’m a total idiot. He was the kind of handsome that was all the rage these days, stony visage, a cool ice prince. Hyukjae was surprised he hadn’t noticed him earlier.
“Professor Lee?” The boy reiterated.
“Ah, yes?” Hyukjae blinked, bowing his head. Ah! Idiot! What are you doing? He waited for the boy to continue.
He did so, nodding his own head in greeting. “I’m Kim Kibum. I just transferred schools and so even though I have the proper credits, I don’t have the exact prerequisite for this class, so I hope you can look out for me.”
“Ah.” Hyukjae nodded. “Um, yes. Of course.”
“Thanks.” The boy murmured, “I’ll be leaving then.” He turned, shouldering his bag and heading out of the lecture hall.
The first time Hyukjae met Kim Kibum he didn’t think much of him. A pretty boy with a generic name. There were plenty of those in the world. He didn’t give him a second thought.
---
During lectures, Hyukjae found himself picking Kibum out of the crowd. If he focused on him it seemed easier. The stage fright faded until he could ignore it. He found himself looking forward to his class, and he didn’t know if it was because the other kids enjoyed it, or if it was because he could see the sparkle of amusement in Kibum’s eyes, the small tilt of his lips that never turned into a fully fledged smile.
He often caught himself watching Kibum as he left, watching his interactions with the other students. He was popular among the girls, predictably. They always sat next to him, giggling and pretending to drop pencils or forgetting their books so they’d be forced to share.
Kibum was a gentleman. He always took it in stride, at face value, and would give a plastic smile that was breathtaking in and of itself but fake to Hyukjae. He wondered how he could know it was fake because he’d never seen Kibum give a genuine smile, but it just didn’t sit well with him. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
It was after their first written assignment that Kibum approached him again. It was after school, and Hyukjae had just been getting ready to leave. His office hours had been over quite some time ago, but he’d wanted to go over his lecture for the next class and had ended up staying later than intended.
He looked up at the knock to see Kibum standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking sheepish.
“Kibum-ssi, what is it?” Hyukjae found himself asking, and he wondered if he were working on autopilot because he couldn’t quite remember ever sounding so calm and sure of himself before. Usually his voice ended up cracking or he’d stumble over a word or name.
Kibum simply stepped into the room fully and closed the door behind him. He reached into his bag and pulled out his paper. “I had some questions.”
Hyukjae nodded, holding out his hand. Kibum handed the papers over and their fingers brushed briefly. Hyukjae pulled back quickly at the contact, as if he had been shocked. Kibum shot him a confused glance, pulling away much slower. Hyukjae swallowed. He didn’t know what had happened but the moment their hands had touched he’d had to remind himself to breathe. The air had gotten cold and the place where his skin had come into contact with Kibum’s had seemed scalding.
He quickly busied himself with looking over Kibum’s paper. He remembered it distinctly from when he’d been grading it. It had been difficult not to remember the succinct handwriting and the to-the-point answers.
“What did you have a question about?”
“I was wondering why I got a point taken off here.” Kibum reached over from behind Hyukjae to point to the answer in question. Hyukjae stiffened in his seat. He could feel the heat from Kibum’s body through the back of the chair. As he moved, shifting the paper, Hyukjae’s shoulder brushed Kibum’s collarbone.
“Professor?”
Hyukjae cleared his throat before continuing his explanation. “Ah, yes. Well you see, your definition of polemics was a bit off.”
“Hm?” Kibum leaned forward, looking at Hyukjae from over the top of his glasses. “What do you mean?”
“W-well you see,” Hyukjae swallowed and then continued. “You stated that Polemic theology was the defense of faith and religion, but that’s actually placed under the category of apologetics. Polemic theology is devoted to the history or conduct of controversy on religious matters.”
Kibum gave a slow nod. “I see.” He gave a slow sigh, and Hyukjae watched the way his lips parted to let out the small puff of air and immediately tore his gaze away and focused back on the paper. “Thank you professor.”
Hyukjae nodded fervently. “O-of course! Please, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to come and ask me.”
Kibum blinked, before a slow smile spread across his face. “Thanks professor. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
Hyukjae was left breathless, staring in shock at the place where Kibum had been standing. He hadn’t even realized that the younger boy had left until the click of the door cut through the silence. He took a deep breath and choked and put a hand over his mouth.
He stared down at his empty desk, at the spot where the paper had been moments earlier.
He coughed again, biting his lip. The moment Kibum had smiled-that real smile, a perfect, flawless smile-Hyukjae had been overcome with want.
What was wrong with him?
---
Kibum came by more and more to ask questions, and Hyukjae had to wonder what kind of cruel game he was playing. Kibum had to know how he felt, had to see how uncomfortable he became when Kibum leaned forward, when he gave that slow smile and Hyukjae had to physically restrain himself from doing something he’d regret.
Didn’t Kibum realize he was torturing him? It had to be obvious…but no, Kibum wouldn’t be that cruel. He was innocent, young, he was just looking for advice. He was most definitely straight. He enjoyed the attention he got from the girls in class. Why would he even consider that his professor wanted him?
Kibum may not have noticed, but it seemed like some of the other students had.
“You always go after school to Professor Lee’s office.”
Hyukjae had just been about to open the door to the lecture hall when he heard the comment. He took a step back, fingers brushing the door handle before retracting.
“Yeah, he’s helping me with a few things. Since I didn’t take the course before this I’m a little lost some times.” Kibum’s voice was soft, clear, and kind.
“You guys smile at each other a lot.”
“Professor Lee smiles at everyone.”
Hyukjae imagined Kibum flashing one of his own smiles, the kind that made your knees buckle. The kind that he woke up to in the middle of the night, hot and panting. The kind that made him feel like a sick, disgusting freak as he pressed his face against his pillow and gasped.
Hyukjae cleared his throat, plastering one of his trademark gummy smiles on his face-not as breathtaking as Kibum’s, but they did the job-and opened the door. “Good morning class!”
---
It was raining the day of their first kiss.
Hyukjae had been driving home after one of his study sessions with Kibum. Kibum had left a little earlier and Hyukjae had spent the last few minutes calming himself down and trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that had subconsciously found their way to the front of his brain during their session.
He’d stepped out of the university front doors to find that it was raining. He’d grabbed his umbrella and headed to his car, promising himself that he’d watch some porn later that night to try and get Kibum’s face out of his mind. Not that it would matter. While watching he’d only end up picturing his young student and then he’d spend the rest of the night leaning over the toilet, cursing at himself for being so repulsive.
He saw Kibum walking down the street after he’d driven a few blocks and had stopped at a stoplight. Kibum was waiting at the light, completely soaked through. He’d been walking in front of the car, and Hyukjae saw him shiver and suddenly his hand was on the horn. He honked once, twice, and Kibum finally turned, jumping in surprise at the sound.
It took him a few seconds to realize it was Hyukjae in the car. He hesitantly walked over to where Hyukjae had rolled down the window. “Get in.” Hyukjae found himself saying, “I’ll drive you home.”
Kibum stared at him for a few moments, his gaze unreadable, before he opened the side car door and slipped inside. There was an uncomfortable silence as Kibum stared at Hyukjae, water dripping from his bangs, before the car behind them honked and Hyukjae realized that the light had turned green.
Hyukjae peeled his eyes away from the dripping wet teenager sitting a foot away and stepped on the gas, eyes trained on the road. He forced himself not to remember how his white shirt had been completely soaked through, plastered to his skin, or the droplet that had trickled down his neck and settled in the dip of his collarbone.
He heard Kibum shifting, and the sound of him buckling his seatbelt. “…I’m getting your seat wet.” Kibum’s voice was oddly quiet.
“It’s fine.” Hyukjae found himself saying, “Where do you live?”
“Cheonhodaero.” Kibum murmured.
Hyukjae nodded to himself, getting into the left lane to turn. It didn’t take long to arrive at the street, and Hyukjae found himself pulling up to the curb. The ride had been made in uncomfortable, tense silence. Hyukjae supposed it was his fault. Any time Kibum tried to talk he answered in short, clipped responses.
“Ah, well.” Kibum cleared his throat. “…thank you. I can walk from here.”
Hyukjae nodded, before he paused, grabbing for something in the back seat. “Here,” He held out a towel. “Dry yourself off a little before you go inside.”
Kibum stared at the towel in Hyukjae’s hand before hesitantly reaching out for it. Hyukjae didn’t give him enough time to grab it, he was already rubbing furiously at Kibum’s hair, leaning sideways in his seat so he could properly dry him.
Kibum stared up at him from behind damp bangs, his expression unreadable as Hyukjae continued drying his hair. Hyukjae kept his gaze trained on the towel. “Aish, you’re soaked through. I should have gotten you this towel when you first got in. What if you catch a cold?”
“…professor.” Kibum’s voice sounded pained, and the sound caused Hyukjae’s gaze to flicker down to Kibum’s face. He looked lost, confused, unsure. Hyukjae had never seen that expression on Kibum before.
“W-what…?” Hyukjae couldn’t look away. There was something about Kibum’s eyes, that hopeful, scared glimmer, as if he were expecting something to happen, wanting it, but afraid at the same time.
Hyukjae let out a slow, shaking breath, before leaning forward. He felt Kibum stiffen in shock, but he didn’t pull away. Their eyes locked, and Kibum simply stared.
“…Kibum…” Hyukjae found himself whispering against Kibum’s lips. Even to himself his voice sounded needy, desperate. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Kibum’s lips were cold-Hyukjae expected it was from the rain-but they were soft. A little chapped.
Kibum responded to the kiss hesitantly, as if he didn’t know what he was doing, and his eyes drifted shut. Kibum’s small sigh was enough to make Hyukjae lose control, all pretenses thrown out the window. He strained at his seatbelt, mouth searching, devouring the lips he’d wanted to taste for so long now.
One hand fumbled with his seat buckle but before he could get it loose Kibum was in his lap. Kibum’s jeans were still soaked, and the water was seeping into Hyukjae’s slacks. His hands brushed against the slick material of Kibum’s shirt, slipping, fingernails digging through fabric into skin.
His lips burned, and Hyukjae didn’t know if it was from the heat of the kiss of the tingle of Kibum’s chapstick. He didn’t care. He could hear Kibum panting, soft breaths against his lips that sent shivers down his spine, that made him want more, made him want to press the younger boy against the back of the seat and fuck him senseless-
Kibum’s elbow had hit the horn. The sound was loud, sharp, and it brought Hyukjae back to reality. It was like a splash of cold water and he found himself pushing Kibum back a bit, off of his lap, back into the passenger’s side.
He stared in horror at Kibum’s bruised lips. Oh god, oh god what had he done? “I…” He shrank back, “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, a broken mantra as he fumbled for the car keys. “You should get out.”
There was silence as he stared at the steering wheel. Kibum didn’t move. All he heard was Kibum’s soft breathing. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white.
And that’s when he heard it. A stifled sob.
He didn’t want to look. He couldn’t. If he looked he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. But he found himself turning. He wouldn’t say that Kibum was crying, because there were no tears. He looked kind of like he was laughing, a sharp, sardonic twist of his lips, but his eyes clearly revealed that there was nothing funny about the situation.
“I…” He heard Kibum whisper. “I thought maybe you liked me. I guess I was wrong.” He reached for the door handle, fingers trembling as he tried to open it. Hyukjae could see his shoulders shaking.
“I do.” Hyukjae found himself whispering. Kibum’s shaking stopped, and he turned to look at Hyukjae over his shoulder. “…but we can’t do this, Kibum. I’m an adult. You’re still a child. I can’t…you’re my student.”
“I’m eighteen.” Kibum defended.
“I can’t. We can’t.” Hyukjae shook his head. He looked away again, back at the steering wheel. It was easier to focus on, safer. If Kibum really did begin to cry he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. The sound of the car horn wouldn't work a second time.
He heard the door open and then slam close.
Hyukjae closed his eyes, letting out a soft curse as he leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Why? Oh god, why? He began to cry.
---
Kibum didn’t come to his office after that.
He came to class, took notes silently, handed in his homework, and was the first to leave once the bell rang. He never smiled at Hyukjae anymore, or even looked at him. Hyukjae knew this because he had yet to look away from the boy.
The moment he entered the room until the moment he left, Hyukjae’s gaze never left him.
Kibum’s grades began to fall. It wasn’t a significant amount, not even enough to warrant any attention, but Hyukjae spotted it and it gave him a chance to confront him.
And he needed to talk to him. He’d spent the last week wondering what he was doing, evaluating his rights to teach, and his desire for the young boy with the heart-stopping smile. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. If he didn’t get this out he would never be able to move on.
So that was why he found himself calling out to Kibum as the class ended. “Kim Kibum-ssi, please see me in my office later today.” He didn’t look up from his desk, afraid to see what face Kibum was making.
“…yes sir.” He heard, before the rush of students leaving drowned out everything else and when he finally did get up the courage to look around the classroom was empty. He let out a shaky breath and began to brace himself for their upcoming encounter.
---
Kibum was waiting at the door to his office when Hyukjae returned from his last lecture. He had his headphones in, eyes closed. He seemed to sense Hyukjae’s presence-he certainly couldn’t have heard him over the music blaring from his earphones-because he turned slowly and pulled his headphones off, letting them rest around his neck. He didn’t turn the music off and Hyukjae could hear some pop song blaring from the speakers.
Hyukjae swallowed, before opening the door to his office and walking inside. He knew that Kibum would follow. He did so, and at the sound of the door closing Hyukjae turned to look at him.
“You look tired.” Kibum spoke first, eyes flickering over Hyukjae’s features. “Have you been eating?”
Hyukjae hadn’t expected such a question. He’d expected Kibum to be angry, or silent. Hyukjae was momentarily at a loss. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”
Kibum nodded stiffly. “What did you want to see me about, professor?”
Direct question, stern gaze. Very Kibum. He didn’t look affected by Hyukjae’s presence at all. Didn’t this bother him, their proximity? Did he care at all that they were so close but couldn’t touch? Did he think about Hyukjae as he lay away at night? Or was Hyukjae the only one being tortured by all of this?
“…how much do you like me…?”
Kibum blinked. He looked surprised by the question. Hyukjae watched him expectantly. He was surprised he’d been able to say it. He could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he merely fixated his gaze on Kibum and waited.
Kibum gave a slow laugh, that soft disbelieving chuckle that was his defense mechanism. “Are you joking around with me right now?”
Hyukjae swallowed. “I need to know.” I need you.
“It doesn’t matter.” Kibum answered back calmly. “You’re a professor and I’m just a student, right? Is that all you wanted to talk to me about? If so I’ll be-”
Hyukjae grabbed Kibum’s wrist. The other man stilled the moment Hyukjae touched him. He didn’t even have to try and pull him back. He simply stopped. “…it does matter. How much do you like me?”
He could feel Kibum tremble against him. Kibum simply looked up at him, eyes shining with pain. “…isn’t it obvious?” He whispered.
Hyukjae pulled him to him, lips clashing together hungrily. Hyukjae wondered, in the back of his mind if Kibum had locked the door, but then Kibum had backed him up against his bookshelf. His shoulder rammed into it and a second later a shower of books rained down upon them and the two ended up on the ground, hands held over their heads, wincing.
Hyukjae pulled a copy of the full collection of Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories off of his head and let it fall into his lap. And then suddenly he was laughing, because the entire situation seemed terribly hilarious. Their romantic reunion seemed ridiculous and anticlimactic now.
It didn’t take long for Kibum to join in, reaching over to brush several other heavy volumes off of Hyukjae and stacking them beside him. Hyukjae watched Kibum laugh, the way he hid his face behind his arm and chuckled into his sleeve, eyes crinkling at the edges.
He reached forward and grabbed the younger boy, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He continued to laugh, the last few chuckles dying out against the tips of Kibum’s hair. It didn’t matter anymore…it didn’t matter if he was a professor and Kibum was his eighteen year old student.
They would find a way.
---
Classes continued normally after that. Hyukjae would give his lectures, Kibum would take notes, and they’d both leave when the bell rang. They shared secretive smiles, and sometimes Kibum would flash a particularly heart-melting one and Hyukjae would forget what he’d been talking about. Kibum would grin, a mischievous smile before he’d go back to his notes and Hyukjae couldn’t find it in himself to scold him for it later.
Kibum came by every day after school for “study sessions”. It was their only time together, and Hyukjae found it frightening-and oddly stimulating-to know that someone could walk in at any moment. Even after they’d begun to lock the door they’d had a few close calls-other professors coming to ask Hyukjae if he wanted to go out for dinner, students who had questions about the lecture-and because of this, people had started to get suspicious.
Hyukjae noticed the looks that the students shot Kibum, their scathing comments that he ignored with a soft smile. Hyukjae wanted to help, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did they would know for certain.
“Sleeping with the professor…that Kim Kibum is shameless. I wonder how many other teachers he’s fucked. No wonder he’s on the Dean’s list.”
Hyukjae grabbed his coffee and turned, trying to catch sight of the girls that had been gossiping, but they’d already turned the corner. His grip tightened around the cup and he swallowed. What should he do? If these kinds of rumors were going around…
“Professor Lee.”
Hyukjae looked up to see professor Jang, also in the Literature department. Her gaze was cold. “Could you come to the teacher’s lounge?”
Hyukjae nodded, following behind the stout woman as she turned on her heel, thin lips pursed. When they arrived, all of the other teachers in the department and the dean were already there. Hyukjae wasn’t certain what was going on, but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him that it was about Kibum.
“Professor Lee, I’m sure that you’re aware of the rumors circulating around campus.” The Dean began.
Hyukjae blinked a few times, unsure if this was actually happening. No. It couldn’t be. He could get fired. He would lose his teacher’s liscence. No, no, no…He tried to give a smile. “I…what…?”
“Several students and faculty have brought to my attention the fact that you spend a large amount of time with one of your students. They say that your relationship has overstepped Student-teacher boundaries.”
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say?
“Professor Lee, if this is true, you know the consequences.”
Hyukjae opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He swallowed a few times to try and wet his throat but it didn’t help. The words stuck there and wouldn’t go any further.
“Professor Lee, if you don’t speak up, I’m going to take your silence as-”
“Ah, excuse me…I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Hyukjae’s eyes widened and he paled as he recognized the voice. He whipped around to see Kibum standing in the doorway, looking a little worried, but more embarrassed than anything else.
“What are you doing here?” Professor Jang snapped angrily, glaring at Kibum as if he disgusted her. Hyukjae clenched his fist.
If Kibum noticed the glare he didn’t seem affected by it. He bowed at the Dean. “I heard that there were some rumors going around about Professor Lee and I. I just came to clarify some things.”
What was he going to do? What was Kibum saying?
“Speak up.”
“I…our relationship isn’t like that.” Kibum continued calmly. “You see, Professor Lee…” Kibum looked uncomfortable, as if he warring within himself on what to say next. “He caught me doing drugs.”
There was s sharp intake of breath, loud gasps, whispered exclamations, but Hyukjae didn’t hear any of it. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He simply stared at Kibum as the younger boy continued to speak, his own gaze trained on Hyukjae, a sad smile gracing his lips.
“Professor Lee was trying to help me. He managed to get me to quit. But that’s all. Our relationship only extends this far. So please…forgive the Professor and stop suspecting him.” Kibum bowed low, eyes trained to the floor, and Hyukjae had to stop himself from going forward to help him up.
This was wrong. Kibum hadn’t done anything. But if he said this, if they believed him, Kibum would get kicked out of college. He would have to leave, all because of Hyukjae!
“Is this true Professor?” The Dean turned to him.
Hyukjae stared at Kibum’s bent head and then back to the dean. No. No it wasn’t true. Kibum was protecting him, protecting his career. It wasn’t his fault! He could see Kibum shaking from where he was still bowing, could see his hands forming fists. He could almost here Kibum silently shouting, say yes! Say yes! But if he said yes, he would be the most disgusting person in the world. How could he sacrifice his student’s-his lover’s-future for his own career.
“…yes…” he whispered, and he felt like dying.
---
After that day, Kibum disappeared. Hyukjae found out that not only had he dropped Hyukjae’s class, he’d also handed in his resignation letter to the school before they could officially kick him out. No one knew anything else beyond that point and prying too much would have brought on more questioning, more suspicions, and all of Kibum’s sacrifice up to that point would have been in vain, so Hyukjae let it drop.
He felt like he were the student and Kibum had been the teacher, covering for him, protecting him like an adult should.
He had been too ashamed to go to Kibum’s home after that. He’d almost gone a few times and had ended up sitting in his car, staring down the street that Kibum lived on, feeling like some kind of stalker.
A cowardly stalker.
A year after the incident he quit the college and transferred to another university in Busan. He was going to leave behind everything. He was going to forget all that had happened and move on. He was going to try and forget Kim Kibum. It was raining the day he finished packing and began the long drive to Busan. He didn’t have that much to take, just enough to fill his car. He’d sold most of his furniture. He didn’t have many momentos anyway.
He was stuck at a red light, staring out at the rain pelting his window shield when the side door opened and someone climbed in. Hyukjae turned in surprise, “Hey, what are you-” He paused, throat tightening painfully as the person turned, flashing perfectly white teeth as he brushed sopping wet bangs out of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’m getting your seat wet.”
---
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