Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13350735.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Character:
      Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Student/Teacher, Teacher-Student_Relationship,
      Blackmail, Age_Difference, Huge_Age_Difference_OK, Consensual_Underage
      Sex
  Series:
      Part 1 of Kinky_Kinks
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-12 Updated: 2018-01-14 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3431
****** Young Boy (You're Out of Your Mind) ******
by sinfully-yours_(paralove)
Summary
     A student blackmails his young teacher into fucking him sounds like a
     bad porn cliché, but nonetheless Jung Hoseok is experiencing the
     biggest crisis of his entire career when the pictures of him and his
     one-night stand partner is on Min Yoongi’s possession—a completely
     unassuming student from class 2-3 who has a pair of cat-like eyes and
     a cute, round face.
     Updated: Chapter 2
     Hoseok finds himself in an empty infirmary with Yoongi..... is this
     reality?
Notes
     WARNING: Underage sex
     In this fic, Hoseok is 31 and Yoongi is 17. The age of consent in
     Korea is 13, but it is debatable and I prefer to label it carefully
     as prevention.
     Please close the tab if it bothers you. Please, for yourself. xxxooo
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
 
 
Jung Hoseok doesn’t know since when he’s being scrutinized by one of his
students in a Tuesday class.
Min Yoongi by far isn’t the most impressive student in the batch. His rank is
average, never making it below 80th place, and his marks in Hoseok’s class are
rather poor. He might be a little bit too vague, a grey area, blending with the
crowds that sometimes it takes Hoseok a few seconds to recall his name. The
only distinguishing aspect Yoongi has is that he’s actually a member of student
council, positioned in disciplinary commitee. His job is to report to teachers
when a male student’s hair length or color violates the rule—again, a rather
vague position. All in all, Min Yoongi wasn’t in Hoseok’s radar before.
But after finding out that Yoongi stares at him intensely in every Korean
class, Hoseok can’t help but to notice him.
This kid is strange, he thinks. Or is there something on my face?
Yoongi’s got a lovely, cat-like sharp eyes that bore deep into Hoseok. Quiet as
he is, Yoongi makes Hoseok nervous like hell. Sometimes Hoseok caught him
smiling, but he quickly bites his lips to erase the curve of his smile. Hoseok
fails to understand Yoongi, just like how Yoongi fails to get above 65 for
grammar test.
One fine evening, just a week before finals, Min Yoongi finally approaches
Hoseok. “Seonsaengnim,” he calls softly, tugging onto the fabric of Hoseok’s
blazer. They are the only left in the class because Hoseok was organizing the
mock-test sheets and Yoongi was on cleaning duty.
Hoseok almost jumped due to the shock. “Ah,” he laughs nervously. “Yoongi, what
is it?”
“Seonsaengnim, are you gay?”
Yoongi’s question pierces through Hoseok’s eardrums like thunder.
“W-what do you mean, Yoongi?”
With a swift movement, Yoongi fishes out a cream-colored A4 envelope and pushes
it onto Hoseok’s chest—just a skin away from his thumping heart that threatens
to rip through his body.
“Saw you and your lover yesterday in Itaewon. Hotel Waikiki, around 9. You came
out around 11. My digital camera got the exact time though. Look at them
yourself.”
Trembling, Hoseok rips the envelope and checks the pictures. What a fucking
sneaky brat, he neatly captured Hoseok’s face in several angles—there’s no
denying that it’s Hoseok. Yoongi kindly zoomed in the face of his partner as
well; a cute, harmless guy he picked up in a bar that night.
Trying to regain his composure, Hoseok gently asks his student. “Yoongi, what
were you doing in Itaewon that late at night? You know you can be punished for
that, right, moreover with you being a committee?”
“But I figured Seonsaengnim will be in a bigger trouble than me.”
Hoseok writhes painfully while rubbing his temple. “Alright, let’s make this
quick. What do you want from me?  I know you can get better score if you try,
Yoongi.”
Mildly annoyed, Yoongi raises his voice. “I asked you before, are you gay?”
“And if I am?”
“Then have sex with me.”
                                                
 
This has to be a joke, or else Hoseok would go crazy and run around in a
supermarket, stark naked.
First, a student is blackmailing him. A student purposely waited for hours
outside just to get pictures of him going in and out a cheap love motel in the
back alley of Itaewon. Second, the said student asked Hoseok to fuck him.
Third, the said student is now inside Hoseok’s room, sitting in a full-mannered
position on Hoseok’s bed. What a fucking insane development.
As a teacher, Hoseok should’ve been able to sort things beforehand. Agreeing to
Yoongi’s term, that is, having sex with him, is just beyond logic and
appropriateness. Yoongi is like, almost half his age, and he’s his student,
God’s sake. Hoseok wants to cry.
“I’m in Seonsaengnim’s apartment.” Yoongi mutters, more to himself than to
anyone.
“Yeah, yeah…” Hoseok sighs. “You don’t have to be so tense.” After all you
brought this to yourself.He adds to himself.
“I’m not tense,” Yoongi glances aside, as if it would help hiding his flaming
cheeks. “I read and watched a lot… I know what to do.”
“Ah, you did your research, huh,” Hoseok side-eyes Yoongi while he pours
himself cold beer. “Tell me what you know then.”
“Do you like taking it up your butt or—“
Hoseok chokes on his beer.
So much for first date, huh.
“You okay, Seonsaengnim?” Yoongi chuckles, his eyes disappearing behind plump
cheeks. Yoongi is a scrawny kid but for some reasons, his baby fat stays around
his face. He also has a cute double chin which makes him soft and adorable.
Oh shit.
Hoseok has lost his mind.
Awkwardly, Hoseok tries to control the situation. “Well, what do you think?”
“I’m not sure…”
“And what about you?”
“I-I don’t know either… I’ve never… actually done it.”
Yet you dare to play such dangerous game, huh, brat. Hoseok walks around the
bed, circling Yoongi like shark trapping its prey.
“Are you aware of the consequences, Yoongi?”
“Y-yes.”
“Even though I’m your teacher and you’re my student, you still want to do it
with me?”
Yoongi straightens up. “I’m sure of it.”
“Alright, now strip off.”
For some couple of seconds, Yoongi hesitates, playing with the button of his
pure white uniform shirt.
“Backing off now?” Hoseok moves closer, hovering above Yoongi, trapping him
between his body and the bed. “Don’t you think it’s too late?”
“No,” Yoongi gulps, “It’s now or never.”
“Haha, that’s cute,” Hoseok holds Yoongi’s chin. “If only you show the same
amount of determination in class…”
Yoongi is too tense to actually think about his teacher mocking him, as he
shakily lets out a feeble breath. “S-seonsaengnim, hurry,”
“Hurry what,”
“Kiss me,”
So Hoseok does.
Hoseok does, with also a full conscience of the consequences. He kisses Yoongi
fervently, daringly, with all the might he has in order to make Yoongi scared.
He wants to teach him a lesson, so that the boy will run from his house and
never comes back. That’s his plan from the start. From the day he agreed to
fuck Yoongi. He’d teach him a nice lesson, this fucking brat.
There’s a reason why Hoseok is a language teacher and not math: he’s not good
at calculating the possibilities of the plan backfiring on himself.
 
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     I didn't plan to add feelings to this dirty fic......... oops
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
 
“And now to page 39, read the ‘Prologue’ poem by Yoon Dongju carefully in five
minutes and try to interpret the meaning behind it. Remember, this might come
out in the test so you better review this at home, understand?”
“Yes, Seonsaengnim.”
Hoseok raises his head from the text book to make sure that the students
actually follow his order and not just doing some lip-service, but his eyes
meet Yoongi’s burning stare instead. The thick, black eyebrows furrow deeply
while his lips puckered in silent fury.
Last night, upon finding that Yoongi sucks at kissing, of course, that might as
well be Yoongi’s very first kiss, he didn’t expect more, Hoseok was teleported
back into realization that none of these were sane to begin with, so he dragged
Yoongi to the main road, hauled a cab, shoved Yoongi inside and threw his own
IC card* to Yoongi’s lap.
“Tell the driver your address, Yoongi, and get back safely,” he waved briefly
without even seeing Yoongi’s face before he bolted back inside his tiny
apartment, dick still half hard from the stimulation.
He jerked himself off pathetically to the innocent toilet bowl before diving to
bed at eight past five, awfully early for a teacher who spends most of his
nights marking test papers and correcting homework.
(Fuck whatever Yoongi’s trying to do to him. There must be a better way to
resolve this.)
And now, the day right after the disastrous night, Yoongi still attends the
class with a betrayed look on his face. The boy is mad at him, Hoseok can feel
it. Yoongi doesn’t even bother to open his textbook.
Hoseok unconsciously shakes his head. “Min Yoongi, done with your
interpretation? Why aren’t you reading it?”
Yoongi is silent.
“Are you feeling unwell?” this is a dumb question, but a protocol nonetheless.
Hoseok can’t announce to the class that the reason Min Yoongi is misbehaving is
no other but him, the teacher himself.
One boy sitting behind Yoongi—Jaeha, the soccer club captain—promptly gets up
and checks Yoongi’s temperature by placing his palm against Yoongi’s temple.
Hoseok doesn’t recall of him being friends with Yoongi (but then again he never
sees Yoongi hanging out with anyone). Yoongi doesn’t do anything, however,
staying perfectly seated in silence. Something irks Hoseok but he’s not sure
what.
“Seonsaengnim, Yoongi has a high fever. I think his temperature is more than
forty degree Celsius.”
Another student chimes in. “Idiot, if it’s more than 40 then he’s done for.”
“Who’s the health committee of this class?”
“Jihee is participating in a debating competition in Seoul National University
today, Seonsaengnim,”
Oh great.
“Is he okay?” one person sitting a bit far from Yoongi stands up to take a good
look at him. “He looks sickly already, I feel sorry for him if anything serious
happens,” the girls start tattling in the background, and in no time everyone
has an opinion about what’s going on with Yoongi. “I’ve never actually seen him
eating in the cafeteria.”
Hoseok initially only noticed the anger emanating from the cat-eyed boy, but
now that he looks closer, Yoongi’s cheeks are brightly flushed, and there are
little beads of cold sweat around his forehead. So instead of getting mad at
him, Yoongi is really sick?
“Alright, class, it is fifteen minutes before class is dismissed, so just make
sure you have a solid interpretation of Yoon Dongju’s poem and you can have
your lunch. I will be taking Min Yoongi to the infirmary, but while I’m gone,
keep it low, at least until the bell rings. Class rep, take care of the class
for me.”
Yoongi doesn’t react to Hoseok’s statement, so Hoseok gently gets him up and
supports him. Yoongi is totally silent during the trip to infirmary, and
Hoseok, forgetting that Yoongi was probably mad at him, gently rubs his
shoulder. “Yoongi, do you want rest at home instead?”
“Seonsaengnim,” he leans to Hoseok, finally entrusting his body weight to him,
loosening up. This boy is really sick. “Can I tell you something?”
“Huh? Sure.”
“I still have your IC card from last night.”
Fuck. Hoseok totally forgot about the weird thing that’s going on between them.
He awkwardly clears his throat. “It’s okay, did you get home safely last
night?”
To think about it, there must be something happening last night that Yoongi’s
burning with fever now. Hoseok is overwhelmed, eaten by guilt. Yoongi, however,
only blinks at Hoseok like he’s is a stupid fool who misses the point, which,
he might be.
“And one more thing,” Yoongi whispers as he tiptoes to reach Hoseok’s left ear.
“I have a vibrator stuck in my ass since the morning. I held back every now and
then, I was totally a good boy.”
 
 
Like all the bad clichés in the world, the infirmary is empty with a brief
notice that Kim-Seonsaengnim is running an errand and will be back
approximately in half an hour.
“Kim Seonsaengnim always leaves the infirmary to feed the rabbits backyard at
this hour.” Yoongi notes without being asked.
“Huh?”
“I planned this, Seonsaengnim. You see, I’m actually smart. Not as stupid or
inexperienced as you thought,” he sarcastically remarks. “You just walked
straight into my traps so nicely.”
“Take it out, Yoongi. I’m not playing with you.” Hoseok annoyedly lays Yoongi
on one of the hard beds every infirmary has, albeit still carefully, like
Yoongi would shatter if he was rough. Yoongi is still, after all, a patient.
“Take what, Seonsaengnim.”
Hoseok blushes red, and shakes his head. “Please, Yoongi.”
“Seonsaengnim, look at my pants. It’s completely wet.”
True enough, the black cotton material is too thin to hide the fact that Yoongi
is leaking and hard. It was hidden by his rather oversized blazer, but after
Yoongi took it off, nothing can cover his tented pants anymore.
“Seonsaengnim, you were really bad last night to me. I want to hate you because
of it,”
“We can talk it over, Yoongi, please, but not this?”
“Not when I increase the intensity, you mean?” Yoongi touches the inner of his
right thigh and does a pressing gesture with his thumbs several times,
prompting him to let out a sultry moan that makes it hard to believe he’s just
as young as seventeen.
Hoseok’s hands start clammying themselves. “God, alright, I’ll take it out for
you.”
“But leave the door unlocked,” Yoongi pleads Hoseok, holding on his arm when
he’s about to move towards the door. “It’s more fun that way.”
How exactly did Yoongi change overnight? He was so hesitant last time, and now
that he got a vibrator up his ass, he gets off the sensation of getting caught?
“You’re trying to get both of us fucked, huh.”
“Not us, just, me…” Yoongi tries to sound witty and confident but fails when
his voice disappears. He glances aside, avoiding Hoseok who chuckles in irony.
“Hah-hah,” his laugh is an ugly, forced one. “A funny one, ‘that.”
Without being asked, however, Yoongi changes his position, raising his ass
proudly in the air. Preying on his students was never in Hoseok’s dictionary
but Yoongi looks so tempting with his perky ass and unbelievably pretty, small
thighs. “Kim-Seonsaengnim is going to be back in any second if you don’t hurry,
by the way.”
Agitated yet aroused (cut him some slack, he’s a perfectly healthy male adult),
Hoseok first reaches for Yoongi’s belt below his hollowing stomach. The effort
makes Hoseok hover over Yoongi’s rather lithe and tiny frame, much smaller than
his.  Yoongi is holding his breath from the sheer touch, and it sends a
tingling sensation all over Hoseok’s body. Hoseok quickly unbuckles the belt,
undoes the hook and the zipper in one fluid motion, like he’s born to strip
anyone at his mercy.
Yoongi’s breath is shaking, getting choked up around the base of of his throat
by invisible force when Hoseok’s hands move to the fluff of Yoongi’s asscheeks.
Yoongi wears baggy uniform pants most of the time so Hoseok didn’t notice
before, but damn, his ass is really nice. The shape is just right, not too big
but not flat either, perky and rather bouncy. The cheeks fit into Hoseok’s
palms so perfectly, and just by touching them through the fabric of Yoongi’s
pants is enough to lead Hoseok to insanity.
Driven by his carnal instinct, Hoseok cups and caresses the two full moons,
milking the moans out of Yoongi’s silly, filthy mouth before he finally snaps
out of it and realizes that he has one job: teaching taking the vibrator out of
Yoongi’s asshole.
“I’m taking your pants off.”
“You don’t have to announce it like a doctor performing surgery,” Yoongi’s face
turns red but Hoseok can’t see it nonetheless, his voice buried into the the
deep of the pillow.
“This might as well be a surgery, kid.” Operation: Saving Yoongi’s Ass. Hoseok
mentally jokes with himself, always looking at the bright side despite being
blackmailed by a pervert brat.
“Lift your left leg, uh-huh, now the right one, and… your pants are long gone.
Traveling they are.”
Yoongi can’t bring himself to protest Hoseok’s stupid jokes one more time
because he suddenly feels very exposed and naked due to the cold air that now
directly contacts the skin of his lower body. This school is so cheap for
turning off the central heater half an hour before all the classes end. But
more than anything, maybe, he can feel the stare from Hoseok’s eyes without
looking at them.
And indeed Hoseok is staring.
It’s just marvelous that Yoongi managed to put the toy in himself (the thought
of having it put in inside by another person weirdly infuriates Hoseok, so he
just tries to think it that way). The plug is pink in color, shocking pink and
has some little faux jewel decorations on the controller.
“Didn’t it hurt when you try to put it inside you, Yoongi?” Hoseok asks. “It
was your first time, wasn’t it, you said you didn’t have any experience.”
“It’s just that I didn’t have real experience with anyone… I did this several
times to myself before.”
“Ah.” Hoseok, half embarrassed, tugs a little at the cable connecting the toy
and the controller that sticks on a pink Velcro ribbon around Yoongi’s thigh.
Why Yoongi didn’t choose a wireless one like normal people (like his past
boyfriends and sex partners), Hoseok has no idea, but it’s definitely sexier.
“How big is this thing, I wonder.”
“You should see it, hah, yourself,” Yoongi lets out a yelp when Hoseok sneakily
increases the speed of the vibrator. “Seonsaengnim, are you finally giving in
to my seduction?”
Now Hoseok seems to forget that the word Seonsaengnim means anything to him. He
simply wants to tease the throbbing, stretched little pink hole in front of his
face. Hell, he wants to smash his face and bury it in the paleness of Yoongi’s
asscheeks. “You’re ten years too early to talk about seduction, kid.”
“That so?” Yoongi slowly swings his hips, voice still muffled by the pillow.
“Then why are you dragging it?”
“I’m afraid you’ll be hurt.”
“And why are your breaths so ragged?”
“I’m allergic to fine dusts,”
“Seonsaengnim, you’re so cute.” Yoongi turns his head to see Hoseok better,
who’s already moulding Yoongi’s tight cheeks again. “Tell me your age again, is
it appropriate for a man your age to make up such a childish lie?”
Hoseok is not lying because he really has sensitive lungs, but he decides not
to humor Yoongi further. “Relax your muscles, Yoongi,” he lulls as he massages
the puckered hole. In Hoseok’s thirty one years of living and being gay, this
is his first time seeing an asshole so pretty and clean and tight, the color
truly pink. It’s all down to preference but Hoseok really likes shaved asshole,
so knowing that Yoongi takes care of his rear diligently is strangely a comfort
to him.
Rubbing the entrance gently, Hoseok tries to add a finger alongside the deeply
buried vibrator, which is actually not impressive in size, just really good at
stirring one’s inside. Hoseok feels the surprised jolt inside Yoongi’s warm
hole. His other hand is on the button on the controller and he gradually
decreases the speed of the vibrator before it finally dies.
Not satisfied, Yoongi groans like he’s complaining. “Jung Seonsaengnim, that’s
bad, I didn’t get to come. You should’ve done something.”
Instead of getting offended, Hoseok marvels at Yoongi’s ability to run his
mouth so freely when he’s practically at Hoseok’s mercy. He didn’t even speak
much in daily life, then how come he’s so chatty right now?
And to think that it was his first time hearing his name called by Yoongi.
“Yoongi-yah, I know that you’re just a baby and you’re probably unaware of it,
but this is a delicate matter so you shouldn’t be reckless while doing it,
okay?”
Maybe the word ‘baby’ sounds like an insult to Yoongi now that he’s mortified,
not saying even a word while Hoseok gently removes the plastic toy out of him.
Or maybe it’s the loss of something that makes him feels so strange, so empty,
that his stretched hole is aching with the need to be filled up.
“There, there, we did it nicely. Now wait here under the blanket, I’ll buy you
underwear—”
“Am I really no good, Seonsaengnim?”
“What?”
With his ass still in Hoseok’s view, Yoongi begins to cry and sob that those
little peaches are shaking. “I know that everything is wrong with me, with us,
that my age is a problem, that I’m your student and you’re my teacher—hic, I’m
also really unattractive and plain and I can’t seduce you no matter what I’ve
been doing, no matter how hard I practiced lately,”
“What, Yoongi, what are you talking about, I really can’t follow you,” Hoseok
begins to panic as he sees the dripping raindrops from Yoongi’s glossy eyes.
It’s even worse that Yoongi deliberately confronts him by turning his head and
looking at him directly, cornering Hoseok with guilt.
“I like you, Jung Hoseok Seonsaengnim.” Yoongi tearfully sobs. “Can’t I like
you?”
Oh.
Oh.
Chapter End Notes
     *IC card: transportation card. Hoseok gave it to Yoongi so he didn't
     have to pay the taxi fare.
     Sorry I'm really dragging the dirty bit LOL I didn't know why I got
     caught with feelings. I'm terrible like that hahaha. Also this might
     end in two more chapters so bear with me!
     As always, your comment, kudos, subscription and bookmark give me
     life so thank you for giving them!
End Notes
     I must be crazy. Should I continue?
     Leave comments below and let me know<3
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