You & Me Both | pjm ✓

01 | The Art of Fucking Up

It's a typical morning.

His coffee in his Wattbucks thermos sits slanted on his wooden podium, and the screen behind him is illuminated with powerpoint slides filled with numbers, expressions and equations.

It's a typical lecture day. At the typical university. In the typical classroom. With the typi—

Ding!

Stopping his lecture mid-sentence, Jimin announces an apology to his students as he quick-as-lightning fishes out his phone. A worried frown is etched on his face. His hands fumble to turn the screen upright.

Thank god.

It's a text from you.

My Light: what do u want for dinner?

Momentarily, Jimin forgets he's in a classroom full of horny young adults where he should probably keep things PG.

Jimin: You (;

My Light: lmao u & me both
but thEn aGaIn u pErV wE JUST did it last night

Jimin's about to furiously text back a slightly sexual and snarky reply when he realizes he's in a classroom. His peripheral vision is filled with innocent students staring curiously at him. Oh good god. He flushes a shade of tomato red as if his phone screen had been broadcasted around the whole university.

"Sorry, my girlfriend had a bit of an emergency." The lie falls off his tongue suspiciously easily. And with the mention of a girlfriend, it takes a moment for his female students to settle down from their childish chortling.

"Dammit. I thought he was single."

"He's your professor, Bertha."

"I know, I know... Is it bad to dream of such things?"

"Bertha, please."

"Oh, shut up, Helga. You just want him for yourself."

"Bitch, please. He's taken!"

"Ahem, guys, settle down. Now, where were we?"

Normally, Jimin would pause his lecture for a little while longer just to see what his students had to gossip about. But today, he feels extra productive. Maybe because he might get his favorite for dinner. You.

/////

"Hey." You greet your boyfriend from your spot on the couch, snug around an avalanche of blankets and pillows. "Want fried chicken for dinner?" Your eyes are glued on the television as Jimin comes over to kiss your cheek.

"Whatever's fine if I can get you for dessert," he purrs in your ear. Jimin's eyes shift over to the dinner table where a box of fried chicken already sits patiently. "Hey, you already ordered it!"

You nod, finally looking over at your boyfriend with a pout on your face. "I kinda got hungry... I'm sorry!" you squeak, looking guilty. "I'll make it up for you. Why don't you get washed up, and I'll pour us some wine?"

"Sounds good, Y/N!" Jimin grins, loosening his tie before flying upstairs to your shared bedroom. You chuckle at his excitement as you heave away your cozy companions to make your way to the kitchen. It's always been quite obvious that Jimin loves to spend all of his downtimes with you, although it isn't much. A simple dinner with wine is enough to make his week.

If only you can fucking remember where you put the wine glasses.

You clumsily open cabinet after cabinet only to be faced with plain dishes and ceramic cereal bowls. Finally, finally, when you catch sight of your favorite crystal wine glasses, you nearly squeal in joy. Except a certain realization hits you like the city bus. You're too fucking short to reach them.