Exes And Hoes

Overexposed

She often came to him in the night. At first Jimin thought it was a projection of his hideous desires but when she snuggled right into his arms, he knew the heat of the body pressing against his was real. These days were the hardest, when the heat of your absent figure lingered in his fingertips, entangling him in this twisted tit-for-tat like no other.

His eyes flutter open to the empty side of his bed. Another dream. Another lonely night.

He sighs and clenches his pillow, squeezing it tight along his chest.

"Y/N..." he calls out in a longing whimper.

When was the last time the weight of his actions felt this heavy? He's not sure...

"I miss you..."

👅💦

"Jimin!" You march into your shared desk space, practically executing the personified lemon with your glare. "Where the heck were you last night?"

The blonde nods slowly and begins correcting a new assignment, saying,"I'm busy, Y/N."

"Ah... so that's what you were doing last night." You pause at the glossed-over crudeness of your own words. "Then, did you sleep with-"

"Y/N!"

His rasp echoes through your bones. His jaw is tense, the look in his eyes, warning. You can't help but wonder why he's acting like this but also can't push aside your pride to take the first step towards reconciliation.

"Right." You shrug lightly. "It's none of my business."

There's a pocket of silence.

"The date went well," You say, making your way in front of his desk. "In case you were wondering..."

"I didn't ask, Ms.Choi."

Oh?

You press your hands flat against his desk and lean over slightly, enough to tower over him like an investigator preying after a criminal. "So it's Ms. Choi now?"

Jimin grins sarcastically. "You asked for this. Don't tell me you changed your mind again."

Your lips clamp shut. As much as you hate to admit it, he got you there. With him, things are never clean-cut or simple ⁠— especially the breakup and its nostalgia. Though you hold him in contempt and resent his cruelty, it isn't all you feel. Sometimes... Just sometimes, you think of him fondly, under the spell of first love.

You wear an exaggeratedly bright smile.

"Alright Mr. Park, continue preparations for our next lecture."

He nods.

After some time, students pour into the auditorium and fill the rows of empty seats. Over the course of the economic lecture, Jimin captivates the students with his passion and concise, minimalist style of teaching.

"Now," he says, changing the slide of his presentation, "Is there an economic solution to stagflation?"

A hand shoots up.

Jimin gestures in the owner's direction. "Yes, Ms. Song Seungkwan?"

"Is that a trick question?" The student in the mid-left row asks, leaning forward slightly in her seat and props her head up with her palm, her hair concealing the lower half of her face. "If stagflation is caused by supply chain shock, then it wouldn't be more effective to implement supply aid policies, not monetary ones?"

Jimin grins as he turns to the board. "Correct. Well done."

Song Seungkwan...

Why does that name make you squirm?

Then, you feel it, a pair of eyes taking you in. You glance in the culprit's direction, locking eyes with the female student from earlier. In response to the excessive stare after a few seconds, you lift a brow as though to assert your authority. Immediately, the student flinches a little in her seat and re-centres her attention back to the lecture.

You tilt your head and rest it in your palm, gnawing on the end of your pen.

What on earth was that about?

👅💦

When the lectures are all complete and the students file out of the class after dismissal, you stand up and stretch a bit before plopping down into your office chair. You glance over at your ex, who seems mildly more fidgety than usual, constantly glancing down at his phone.

"Do you need to head-off somewhere?"

"No!"

His squeaky insistence raises your suspicion but you do your best to conceal it from his prying eyes. You try to think of something random to say, anything, but he beats you to the chase, red-faced and flustered.

"Ah!" Jimin winces exaggeratedly, "I forgot to print the exam schedules. I'll be right back."

"...Okay?"

You wait for Jimin to bolt around the corner, but knowing him better than any one of your colleagues, you know this reeks of lies. Jimin is a lot of things, a dumbass for one, but a good liar isn't one of them. When he swings out of your line of sight, you stagger your exit by a few seconds, trailing behind loosely.

Is he really going to print?

You can't say you're convinced, even as he struts into the staff room. There's definitely more than meets the eye, you can feel it — and if you're wrong, then your instincts are simply horseshit.

Opening the door just a crack, you peep in and watch as the blonde saunters over to the revving printers and begins picking up material.

What?

Your brows furrow.

Since when was he so straight-laced?

Doubtful, you decide to stick around for a bit longer. Several minutes, despite feeling longer, pass by as indicated in large part by Jimin's whistled completion of a song. He then pops out and heads the opposite way of your office. You are ready to chase his butt down and call him out on his duty ditching, but clamp your lips tight when he enters the computer lab.

That's not a place he should ever be...

Accepting the fact you look like a pathetic stalker at this rate, you squat down and peer in slightly through one of the many, large open windows. It's dark inside — two figures only vaguely outlined by the hallway light. One of these people you recognize as Jimin but other, more feminine figure, you can't tack a name to.

The two chat for a bit and just as you are contemplating returning to your desk, the pair embrace in a passionate lip-lock. Their bodies move in a common flow, on the high of their emotions. You want to desperately tear your gaze away but just... Can't. So you pathetically observe it all happen...

Her body on the desk... His figure on top of hers... The shedding of clothes... The creaking of the desk and tumbling computers...

The final blow is when your hear the girl proudly moan his name.

"Jimin."

You don't know what to think.

You don't care about the outcome.

You know you shouldn't do this because getting involved with him is never a good idea, but your body moves on its own accord. The door fly opens along with the loose jaws of the two little rats fucking around.

You cross your arms and look Jimin dead in the eyes.

"Caught you."