Hoseok sat at the back of the room, his eyes never leaving Mr. Min. His attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted from the day he was born, never left the way the half-framed black glasses sat atop his button nose.
'Maybe I should start typing the notes that're on the board,' Hoseok scowled to himself.
Hoseok feels dirty, almost ashamed of his crush on his professor. He hates himself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. Hoseok doesn't know why he's gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a man who he'll possibly never even get to touch. A man that's so out of his league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that he exists.
That doesn't stop them though.
Hoseok still finger fucks himself to an orgasm that no man has been able to give him in his 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his teachers cock instead of his own dainty fingers. If Mr. Min knew what his student did to himself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This, he knows for a fact.
This isn't what he thought he would be doing though, in all honesty. He is a semester away from graduating and he never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. Hoseok truly believed he would have an ancient married professor that sounded moments away from getting into a coffin. Instead, he got a literal Greek God as his Psych professor.
He knows that he's not the only one of course. Hoseok has met 10 other girls in his class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Min's piercing dark eyes. He can't blame them. If he could write shitty poetry about him, he 100% would.
Hoseok's not angry either, he knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. He sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Min addresses him by his first name, but what can he do? He'll bask in the feeling of course. Even getting just that small percentage of attention from Mr. Min was great.
Conceivably that's something he should consider; Mr. Min calls him Hoseok. Not Mr. Jung or just simply Mr. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.
"Hoseok," a voice called out, he shook himself out of his haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Min was now standing over him. His fresh, minty, forestry cologne surrounding him, intoxicating him. Hoseok gulped softly before raising his eyes to the other.
"Yes, sorry sir," He replied quickly, trying his hardest not to stumble over his own words or even let himself get flustered.
Mr. Min held a stoic expression, lips pulled into a thin line, face very unamused. "Alright, then describe to me how third-force psychology is different from the first, psychoanalysis, and second, behaviourism." He closed the textbook in one hand, placing it on his desk then folded his arms, veins even more prominent than before.
Hoseok felt his heart sink, he was listening—he really was, but, he just doesn't remember anything about this part. "Sir, I—I'm not sure," Hoseok mustered out with all the confidence he had, stiffling laughter from his classmates.
"You're not sure? But I thought you were listening," The professor countered. Hoseok caught the way his lips twitched before pulling it back into a thin line.
"I was, but—"
"Third-force psychology considers both the first and second psychologies as limited in their conceptualizations, and approaches." The professor sighed. "Note that down." His eyes darkened, before swiftly looking around the class at each of the students who struggled in holding in their laughter. "I need at least one of you listening," the class continued erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." His eyes returned back onto Hoseok. That saying alone got the students quiet. Hoseok sunk into his chair in embarrassment. The blush he had been fighting since the beginning of the class rose to the surface, making him even more adamant not to look up at him but alas he couldn't.
