제발 ≪ YOONKOOK

◎01

"Don't question me!" The red faced teacher squeaked, slapping both his cheeks slightly as he stayed under the piano, taking two deep breaths and crawling out from underneath the instrument. "Just- Just go to your places a- and leave me alone!"

"Aw, cute wittle Yoongi-hyung is embarrassed!" Vernon chuckled, even though he was burning with jealousy deep within.

"Sh- Shuddup you- you meanie!" Yoongi grumbled, covering his face and sitting on the floor, whimpering in embarrassment as his students laughed at his miserable love life.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." A short, bubblegum pink haired lad called, his booming voice contrasting harshly with his cutesy appearance and height.

"Fine, fine." Vernon called back, sitting down and smirking. When Vernon stopped, everyone knew it was time to leave the cute teacher alone.

"Th- Thanks, Jihoonie..." Yoongi mumbled, looking up at the similar-looking boy, who grinned and set a hand in front of the teacher.

"No problem, teach." He smiled fondly. Even though not every single student developed a huge crush for the tiny teacher, every single person that had the chance to be with him (be it romantically or not) left with a deep fondness for the lad. No one knew why (is it his cute bad guy wannabe attitude? or his adorable little squeaks? maybe his gummy smile, or his overall petite size?) but it happened a lot. Even the principal had a soft spot for the tsundere little guy.

"Alright, you had your fun." Yoongi pouted as he took the hand gratefully and used the other's weight as leverage to stand, reaching up and ruffling his hair (yes, he is also shorter than smol, cute, scary Jihoonie, leave him alone) before turning to the piano and plopping down on the fluffy seat, cracking his knuckles before setting his hands on the keys. "Now, because you were really mean," he started, smiling at Jihoon, "everyone but Jihoon has to listen to me play the longest piece in existence of my brain. Jihoon, you can manage their behavior as you wish~"

All students groaned, some chuckling lowly at his idea of a punishment, and others just complaining with smiles on their faces ("but teach, that's more a reward!" "don't show off, you cutie!" "don't call him a cutie, you dumbass!") whilst Yoongi quietly giggled, covering it up with a deep chuckle and getting to work.

His bony fingers moved swiftly through the tones, pressing the keys and letting the marvel pieces press back against the limbs, soft, powerful notes bouncing through the room. The moment he pressed the first key, the piano was all that could be heard. Everyone stared at the teacher as he played, his fingers moving, but his body moving as well. Leaning forwards when a specifically silent part of the song came on, leaving back when it developed into a fast change of tones, leaving sideways when his height didn't allow him to reach specific tiles, a grin adorning his pink lips and letting his gums show slightly at the sides.

With every tile that his fingers pressed, the quieter the room got, listening intently to the piece— one they hand't ever heard before. Starting with a simple, deep beat as well as the notes you'd expect from a voice— a high pitched one, too. Then, dropping into a faster, yet still calm, sequence, the tiles were pressed at the perfect speed, the perfect weight laying itself on each marvel figure. The high notes were loud, persistent, whilst the accompaniment of them was low, slow, barely heard over the strong 'voice' of the tiles.

When the teacher finished, claps were heard throughout the room, a deep, scarlet blush settling itself on Yoongi's cheeks, making him cough slightly and look down to his lap.

"Hyung, seriously, why are you a teacher? You should play at concerts! Be famous!" A slightly older than everyone else boy exclaimed, his wild, long, ashy hair covering his eyes.

"No, Tae, I wouldn't abandon this school." Yoongi giggled. "I've worked here for years... almost five years, in fact."

"Really?!"

"You look younger!"

"You're not 19?!"

"He can't be 19, he's a teacher!"

"How about 23?"

"Acceptable."

"He's not 23!"

"Shush!" The pale lad giggled, shaking his head. "I- I'm 25–"

"No way!"

"Shh!"

"And I've already tried doing something other than teaching."

"Woah!"

"Like what?"

"Writing songs, rapping... It didn't work out."

The teacher pulled out his cellphone, biting his bottom lip, and unlocked it slowly— shaky fingers dragging themselves across the screen as he typed in his password. Going to his Spotify app, he looked up the name he hasn't heard in years—

Agust D.