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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years ago

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genre: college au, teacher/student, dance instructor!hoseok, dance student! y/n, fluff

warning(s)!!!: college stress (duh), y/n waited a couple years after high school before college for fiances, it’s not a college au unless someone works at a coffee shop lol, flirty hoseok, y/n might be a bit ditzy but in a cute way, y/n is also scared of storms

w.count: 5.4k

summary: moving to Seoul, South Korea had been a dream of yours and when you found out that you got accept at one of the best universities, you couldn’t have been happier! That is until you met your dance teacher. He was handsome, but strict and he made you fall for him hard. You never thought he would feel the same until you got locked up one rainy night.

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-13]

a/n: this is my contribution to BangtanIDX Prompt Twist! I got @pjmsgalaxy prompt, so I hope she (and everyone else) enjoys it! Gotta be honest, I’m not sure if I’ve ever written a teacher/student fic and i don’t read much of them dafdlskf, there’s a first time for everything LMAO I hope I did alright asdlfjakj (I also very very sloppily proof read this, or i proofread half of it then got lazy uhoh)

“Where did I-” you muttered to yourself as you dug through the fourth box in your newly moved into studio apartment. You were a reigning champ of procrastination and now you were looking for your gym duffel to place all your dance equipment in.

Not finding it in lucky box number four, you sighed and continued your quest to find the hideously amazing holographic duffel your mother had bought for you just before your move to Seoul. “There you are!” You exclaimed as you saw a small patch of shining, colorful silver before you grabbed it and yanked it out. Small trinkets and pens flew from the box in its rupture out of the cardboard prison.

It had been just two days since you had signed a lease for this single, tiny, cramped apartment in Seoul. But, it was your best choice of living because who would’ve thought that Seoul’s living expenses were through the roof. It would do, however; since you were finally getting ready to enroll in Hanyang University in their department of dance. Part of your subconscious wasn’t able to comprehend the fact that you managed to get into a private university in Seoul, but nonetheless there you were.

You sat on your floor, boxes all around you with your holographic duffel with rainbow striped straps on your lap. You sighed as you felt a small flutter of nerves in your chest.

This was what you have wanted since you realized how much you loved dancing. Graduating, majoring in dance, going to a prestigious school. It was all so much more dazzling than you thought it’d be. Of course, you had to take a couple years off of high school to save up enough money to even begin thinking about college tuition, but now here you were. Two years of hard work finally paid off as you were enrolling into education once more.

“Oh shoot,” you hissed as you placed the duffel aside and made for other boxes. “I need to find my alarm clock. I know I just saw it,” you muttered more as you began to once again dig around. Unpacking fully would need to wait- it was already 7 in the evening. Unpacking your new home would be a tomorrow job and future you’s problem.

It was bright and early the next day as you dragged yourself out of your messy, box filled apartment with a bag of books and folders and your duffel packed full with a water bottle, proper shoes and a change of clothes. Along with your typical dance classes of ballet and choreography (or also called composition) courses, you would be taking your standard classes as well. Dance history and theory for example. Those were more sit down and take notes classes, so your standard textbook and spiral notebook were absolutely a must.

Dressed with your jeans rolled to your calf and your shirt untucked, you walked to sit patiently at the public bus stop just in time to catch the 8 o’clock morning rounds. Getting off with a handful of other college students, you almost halted at the university gates. Those nerves thumping in your chest again before you pulled yourself together and finally took those first steps as a twenty-year-old college student.

You entered the spacious dance studio your choreography class was held in as you gulped. You had just changed into your leggings and sweater with your less than brilliant shoes with just enough grip left on the soles not to slide around.

You ducked your head instinctively as you trotted to the back of the room. The mirrors across the studio tracked your every tiptoed step as some students were stretching. Some were doing warm ups, some doing small numbers of footwork, others just standing talking or keeping to themselves until the instructor came. You were of the latter group. Taking refuge up in a corner as you sat your duffel (that happened to stand out way too much among the others) behind you and took a seat.

As you sat, you opened your legs in front of you and did small stretches just to occupy yourself until the class began. The lump in your throat made it damn near impossible to even try and talk to someone else even though you knew you’d be working and dancing with these people through your major years.

As you were stretching forward to grab around your foot and feel the comfortable pull in your legs, you silently hoped that the instructor you ended up with wouldn’t be a complete nightmare. You’ve seen and read one too many dramatic stories that involve over the top teachers who have the ‘perfect or failing’ mentality. Of course, you knew that it was all for show and production in your books or on your television screen- but nonetheless, it was stressful to think about.

You yelped when someone tapped your shoulder, getting your attention as you were previously too lost in thought about an over dramatic, middle-age crone with a permanent frown as your teacher- may as well imagine Lady Tremaine as the instructor of your nightmares.

When you turned, ready to apologize you nervously chuckled as you saw the handsome red haired man sat beside you with a Puma bag beside him. Wearing gym shorts and a jacket matching his duffel with worn out shoes, he pushed his hair out of the way of his sweat band around his head. He smiled, waving at you.

“First year, huh?” He asked gleefully as you just nodded before clearing your throat.

“Oh, yeah. I just enrolled. I feel a bit awkward since I’m older than the other freshman by a couple years. Guess that's what I get for taking a couple years after highschool though, huh?” You joked back to the stranger as he sat and crossed his legs beside you. He nodded, closing his eyes in a face of understanding.

“Makes since though. This school isn’t cheap, for sure.” With another nod, he opened eyes when he grinned widely again at you. “Don’t worry about it,” he told you with a shoulder pat. “You look young anyways. You’ll fit right in. We twenty-somethings’ need to stick together, huh?” He asked as you looked at him with a small sparkle in your eyes.

“You’re in your twenties?” You gasped lightly. “Oh, jeez that was rude. Sorry,” you awkwardly brush off as you mentally screech into the void. Thankfully, he just laughed at you- but seemed blissfully unoffended.

“I’m definitely in my twenties,” he confirmed. He looked at the watch on his wrist as he silently opened his mouth into an ‘o’ as he started to uncross his legs to stand. He patted your back again. “Thanks for the chat, I’m a lot less anxious now,” he told you as he started moving away. You looked back to your lap and let out a breath. You smiled. If anything- he was the one who worked your anxiety away.

Your attention was grabbed when the studio door was shut and someone clapped from the front of the studio by the wall full of mirrors. Repeated students from previous years were soon sitting down and the freshmen were all sitting rigid- just as you were in your corner.

At the front of the class was the same guy who was just talking to you. Setting his duffel from his shoulder to his feet by the mirror wall on the floor. He turned and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the room of 20 something students. Some familiar, some not. He just smiled at them all as a group.

“I sure hope this is everyone,” he started speaking when the small murmuring of others died down to focus on him. “I don’t take well to students being late, so make sure to remember that. If you’re not here on time, I’m locking that door and you’re not getting in.” He addressed, pointing to the studio door that was firmly shut. “On with formalities then,” he clapped again as he moved to start pacing back and forth along the mirrors. “As of today, some of you had never seen me before. Why? Well, because you're new of course.” He stopped in his paces before he turned to face the class sitting on the wooden floor. “I’m Jung Hoseok, and I’m this studio’s choreography instructor. Feel free to address me casually if you’d like.”

You nearly threw your head against the wall you leaned back against. You were just chatting it up and talking about age with your teacher?! He was one of very few people who really didn’t need to know your age. Not to mention, the passing thought of thinking he was an attractive man suddenly felt taboo. You’ve heard of teachers and student’s hooking up, but only in stories!

However, by the time the class ended many things were apparent to you. One, this class wasn’t going to have a shortage of difficulty. Hoseok ran through the curriculum and all the points and class topics he wanted to hit and practice through the semesters.

Two, you’d definitely need to start opening up to your classmates for group and duo projects or else you wouldn’t get very far into your college career.

Lastly three, the way Hoseok acted and carried himself like another goofy highschooler who loved dancing more than a fish loves water made him undeniably attractive and maybe- just maybe- your hopeless romantic heart thudded under your hoodie.

It was a week into your college course that you were already feeling tired from all the running back and forth between physical classes and sit down classes. You felt like your legs were screaming, but eventually you knew you’d get used to it.

You were walking as you packed your books into your bag. One thing that Hoseok made clear wasn’t a joke on the first day was his ‘locking the door if you’re late’ rule. He ended up locking 3 students out of the studio on the second day and you made sure that if it was getting close to his classes start time, you were running and weaving past students in the halls and outside in the quad. Rules be damned.

You had just stepped out of the bathroom where you had locked yourself inside a stall to change into your sweats and tee from your jean shorts and sweater when you bumped into your aforementioned handsome dance instructor.

Too busy trying to pry your water bottle out of your duffel mixed with trying to shove your wadded up clothes back into the same duffel and juggling your other class’ bag with books on your shoulder all met in the demise of your shoulder at your rammed into Hoseok’s.

Your metal thermos hit the title in the most unmelodic sound known to man as you jolt and screech in a semi-panic all in an attempt to catch it. Before you could shove your duffel behind you with your sweater hanging half out to reach for your fallen drink in it’s metal prison, Hoseok was already bent at the knees and picking it up instead.

You took the chance to shove your stupid clothes into your duffel completely and zip it when Hoseok was ready to had you your thermos. All while he just stifled a chuckle you could see building in his cheeks.

“In a rush?” He teased, knowing full well his class started in under ten minutes. You bit back the sarcastic reply on your tongue, reminding yourself that this was your teacher- not just another student you could afford to smart off to.

“Well, I don’t want to be locked out, so,” you shrugged, unsure if your tone made you seem snippy. Hopefully not.

“The day I have to lock you out of the studio for being late, maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let it slide.” He teased as he placed your thermos into your palm. “Let’s go if you’re heading that way.”

“You’re walking with me?”

“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged. “I’m going to the same place and besides, I did say that we twenty-somethings need to stick together,” he joked in a lop-sided smile that pushed up one of his cheeks.

“I wish you’d forget that I ever mentioned my age to you at all,” you groaned as he started walking and you tailed behind him until he slowed his pace to walk beside you. You rushed into the studio in front of him to make sure you made it before him as you rushed to your designated corner before anyone could notice you walked with Hoseok to his class. Properly tying your shoes, you rotated the ball of your worn dance shoes, listening to them squeak as they tried to grip the floors the best they could.

You really needed a new pair soon. Your new job’s first paycheck will be used more for bills then it seemed, a new pair of shoes seemed to be in your future. As Hoseok started class and got everyone to their feet to work through some simple steps to get warmed up for a proper assignment on the horizon, you could help but once again admire his shift from friendly, giggly Hoseok who teased you in the hall to the strict and passionate dance instructor.

“Y/n, could you run the register for just a couple more minutes? Laura is running late, but she said she’s just around the corner stuck in that traffic jam.” Your boss begged as you were about to clock out from your third day on the job. It wasn’t too hard to learn the ropes since you knew how to work registers as well as you could recite the alphabet. You just smiled, trying to wipe the crease out of her brows. She was clearly hoping you wouldn’t say no.

“I don’t mind,” you told her, her shoulder slackening. “I know the traffic sucks today. I can hang around a bit longer. I don’t have anything else to do tonight anyways.” With a promise to pay you for your overtime from your boss, you re-tied the apron around your waist and rushed back to the front where you joined the floundering staff already there. “What can I help with?” You asked them as they rang up someone.

“Just get me away from this thing,” they half whined in a weak laugh as you stepped up and began taking orders like you were programmed to do. Working through customer after customer, you soon saw Laura rushing into the coffee shop when the bell above the door jingled. She ran to you behind the counter. Apologize for being late, you assure her to take her time and not to worry too much about it.

You finally clocked out when you snagged a muffin from the display and made your way out around the counter. Your boss spoke to you for a moment across the display of pastries as Laura was already hard at work until closing hours. You bit into your muffin as you heard someone call you. Thinking it was a co-worker from the familiar ring it had, you turned immediately only to be met with none other than Hoseok.

He came jogging up to you, a coffee in his hand.

“Oh, Instructor Jung,” you greeted in shock. He cringed as you addressed him so formally. Almost everyone in your class had already reverted to calling him by name as he so kindly requested. You were one of the very few stragglers who still addressed him so formally.

“Instructor Jung? Really? That makes me sound like some old man who hates people,” he shivered. “Just call me by name,” he told you. Your boss tapped your shoulder, asking who this stranger with the round cute cheeks and healthy red hair was. He took a sip of his coffee through the straw of his to-go cup. He reached his hand across the counter-top to your boss once he swallowed the caffeine. “Jung Hoseok,” he introduced. “I actually teach Y/n’s dance choreography class in her major.”

“Well, what a lucky girl she is,” your boss teased you with flickering eyebrows that rose and fell in quick motions. Your face bloomed as you wanted to throw the remains of your muffin at her. You were never so thankful you had so much self-restraint. “I’ll see her tapping her feet or shuffling around in the back during her break, it’s pretty adorable.” Okay, maybe less self-restraint if she kept going.

You cleared your throat, face hot as you were determined to escape. “If you’re done teasing me, I’m going home now.”

“But of course,” your boss mused. “I’ll see you back in a couple days sweetheart,” she waved as she went back to her bossly duties of bosshood.

“It was good seeing you-”

“You're heading home, yeah? I’ll drive you,” Hoseok offered before you could properly attempt to depart.

“What?” You asked in shock, nearly dropping the same muffin you wanted to throw just moments ago. “Drive me? Oh, you don’t need to. I’ll just take the bus.”

“Nonsense,” he told you, stepping beside you and nudging you with a friendly smile. “It’s cheaper this way.” That was true. The word ‘cheaper’ was your favorite among the thousands in the words as a struggling college newby. Ultimately, you ended up in the passenger seat of Hoseok’s jeep as he pulled off the curb and into the awful traffic that had previously made Laura so late to her shift. “So, you dance at work huh?” He asked, his eyes set on the road as his fingers tapped at his steering wheel.

“Oh god, please forget you ever heard her say that.”

Hoseok broke into squawks of laughter that pulled at your own lips and the tension you had built up crumbled as you began to just talk. You had even forgotten he was your instructor as you spoke to him like you were talking to a friend. It wasn't until he was pulling up in front of your apartment building when that reality came back.

“Get some rest tonight,” Hoseok told you before you stepped out of the jeep. “I’m gonna assign drills and dance routines tomorrow in class.” You blinked as you looked at him confused.

“Why tell me this? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait to tell me with the rest of the class?” You asked as Hoseok just laughed lightly back to you, nudging your thigh as you started climbing out of the jeep.

“Have a good evening, Y/n,” he told you, totally disregarding your previous questions, leaving you ever more confused. You just nodded at him, now pursuing the topic any longer than you wanted to. He watched to make sure you got up the set of outside stairs and unlocked your door before disappearing inside before he drove off.

Just as he had told you, the next day he was assigning certain groups of students different routines or tasks to practice. Over the course of the next week you’d be free to practice your assignment given to you before delivering it to Hoseok. The concept of him not particularly instructing this project was to gauge the level of self-teaching. He would supervise and give advice and tips if asked, but he would not be out right teaching just yet.

You were among the group of people given a small little number running just shy of two minutes. Focusing more on footwork and precision rather than graceful nimbleness. A faster paced routine was something you felt wasn’t your strongest set of skills, but you enjoyed the feeling of learning nonetheless.

You often spent your afternoons you didn’t have to work in the studio, or inside the practice rooms off the studio practicing. You had opened up to a few other students given the same routine and gotten their advice as you had given yours in return. Hoseok had already told you a few times things you needed to keep in mind while practicing.

This particular night, two weeks into the curriculum you had stayed just a bit too long practicing you had completely lost track of time. In fact, you would've even stopped to notice the empty rooms and the darkening skies outside if it weren’t for the knocking at the practice room’s door.

You had locked yourself inside one of the private, off studio’s to listen to the track assigned with your routine. Getting a feel for the beat and tapping to it for a rhythm balance over and over again made you lose track of time absolutely. When there was a knock you just barely managed to hear over a small dip in the music track, you looked through the room door’s window to see Hoseok waving at you to come out.

Discarding your headphones, you got up and unlocked the door. Opening it to see your instructor dressed not in his sweats and hoodies for practice, but in jeans and a tee- ready to go home for the day. He looked unfairly well dressed in casual wear.

His brow was dipped as he glanced outside just before he looked back to you in your lamp lit small room. He could hear the faint hums of your music from your headphones you left on the floor behind you.

“Why are you still here, Y/n?” He asked. You blinked at him as if he was asking some asinine question. “Classes ended hours ago and that storm in the forecast is about to hit. You should get home,” he told you. You opened your eyes as you looked over his shoulder outside the window of the main studio.

Indeed the skies were dark and sprinkled with raindrops of the future downpour. How long had you been absorbed in your music? You ran back to your headphones and phone along with your bag and duffel as Hoseok moved to the front of the studio to wait at the door, but with a jiggle of the studio’s door, his face drained of color.

A jiggle was worrisome, two was just as worrisome and three was completely worrisome with a tablespoon of panic. The door was jammed, the knob not turning and the door not budging even when Hoseok yanking or shoving on it.

You had shut off the light in the private room, walking out into the lit studio where Hoseok was fiddling with the door. You could hear the metal of the doorknob rattling under his palm echo in the empty dance room as you got to his side. You already feared what he was going to say when he turned to you with a tense expression.

“Don’t tell me,” you spoke with a fallen face as he just let go of the doorknob. All routes of escape leading to utter failure. Hoseok quickly cleared his throat as he looked around the empty room.

“Don’t worry about it,” he spoke, his voice echoing in the large emptiness. “Someone will make their rounds in the morning and get us out. I have some granola bars in my bag we can eat and extra water bottles in my duffel. We just have to tough it out for one night.”

He tried making light of the situation to ease your tense shoulders. He could understand though. You were busy and lost track of time only to be told to leave by your teacher before some nasty weather hits. Only to be now stuck in that same room he told you to leave with him. You probably wanted to go home, take a bath and sleep in your bed. But, now you were forced to stick around in the studio until morning instead. Talk about an impromptu and unwanted sleepover.

However, it wasn’t the fact you had to stay in the studio that night that made you nervous. It shockingly, it wasn’t fact you’d be sharing the space with your more than handsome dance teacher either. It was the small rumbling you heard outside that made you anxious.

The first ten minutes of your small sit down with Hoseok was rigid and uncomfortable for both parties. You were nervous as you picked at your shirt’s loose threads and Hoseok was nervous because he felt like he was making you nervous. The endless cycle of nerves was suffocating.

“Sorry for the door,” Hoseok broke the nearly nauseating silence as he scratched behind his neck. “I didn’t think it’d be busted. Someone must have slammed it shut and jammed it or something.”

“It’s fine,” was your curt answer.

Hoseok looked into the mirrors, watching your reflection- too afraid of freaking you out if he actually looked at you. He cleared his throat. “So, uh- how’s your routine coming?” He tried again. Maybe a different topic will result in different results.

“It’s coming,” you shrugged. “Clearly I’m focusing on it too much,” you told him, motioning to the current situation.

“At least you don’t work today, right?” Hoseok tried lifting the spirits in the room with a smile. You cracked a smile back to him finally.

“That’s-”

The sky shook with thunder, interrupting your voice as Hoseok looked outside the window. The rain had begun as it pelted against the windows. You could hear the wind blow through the roof and along the window outside as it pushed the rain at an angle. The instructor whistled.

“That’s some nasty weather,” he muttered. When you didn’t respond in agreement, he looked back to you. He sat straighter when he saw you covering your ears with your palms. “Y/n?” He called as you seemed to remember where you were as you lowered your hands immediately and placed them back on your lap. You crossed your legs, bouncing one of them as the rain continued to hit the building and window and the thunder continued to roll.

It was impossible for Hoseok not to see how jittery the weather got you. He slowly scooched closer to your side after reaching for the previous mentioned granola snack he had with him. He offers it to you, hoping to ease you. You accept it, taking anything to keep your mind off the weather blaring outside like sirens in your head.

“Not a storm lover, eh?” He asked, but as lightly as he could. He asked in the same way someone would cover a child with a satin blanket. It was soft and comforting the way he spoke. You shook your head as you bit into the grainy snack. “I don’t mind them so much, but I guess some people really can’t stand storms.”

“‘Can’t help it,” you mumbled after you swallowed a bite. “I’ve been scared of them since I was little and just never outgrew it.”

Hoseok was soon rubbing your back as he sat next to you. You jumped every time thunder sounded and closed your eyes with a small yelp each time you caught a glimpse of lightning. Luckily enough the storm didn’t have nearly the strength to blow out the power, so he wouldn’t need to comfort you in a black out at the very least.

He was sitting beside you for nearly half an hour before he finally thought of something to keep your mind off the storm.

“Y/n, dance with me,” he pitched into the empty room as he continued to rub your back. You shot your head up to look at him, cheeks hot and mouth open in a small ‘huh?’. He just chuckled. “We’re stuck in here anyways, so let’s dance to pass the time!” He told you he was already spinning to his feet before he grabbed your hands and started pulling you up and out of your cross-legged position.

“You can’t be serious!” You squealed as he got you standing. He ran over to the stereo system and hooked his phone up to it before setting a playlist. Soon, music started pulsing through the speakers as you felt the vibrations of the bass through the floor into your bare feet after long abandoning your shoes and socks.

He danced back to you as he grabbed your hands and started dragging you around as he laughed. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” Pretty soon, he was twirling you around every which way he could before he actually started to properly dance. You were reverting back to your dance brain as you started properly doing footwork and taking correct stances.

What started as goofing off to keep your mind off the storm turned into a private study with Hoseok watching your practice the very dance that kept you here in the first place this evening. He had turned on the song assigned to you and the small group of people who were assigned the same thing as it looped over and over again.

Drill after drill with different steps of advice and stance correction was more fun with Hoseok than you thought possible. He would push on your back to fix your stance or twist your calf when you stepped so you wouldn’t trip. He showed you how to dance certain parts as you mirrored him.

You both watched the reflections of yourselves dancing the same quick footwork number side by side over and over again. And each new drill came with bigger smiles and louder laughing. You had actually forgotten about the storm outside over the sound of the music and Hoseok’s laughter.

The storm had subsided well after midnight and you finally fell to the floor, ready for something close to a hardwood nap at nearly three am. Hoseok fell next to you, still in a fit of giggles as you just breathed heavily.

“I don't know if I’ve danced that much ever,” you panted as Hoseok rolled from his back to his stomach to look at you on your back staring at the ceiling. He rested his chin over his crossed arms on the floor as he looked at the side of your face. He finally looked at him, feeling his stares and flinched when you looked into his eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to look away now. “Hoseok?”

He smiled unconsciously bright at your casual calling. “You sound pretty saying my name,” he told you, making your face flush. “You looked even prettier when you blush too,” he teased, kicking his feet up behind him like a five-year-old. You turned your head away from him finally as you looked back to the ceiling, not able to hide your red cheeks as he just kept admiring them. “Hey, Y/n?” He called to which you just hummed, not trusting your voice. “Wanna go get some coffee in the morning with me?”

You whipped your head back to look at him, seeing his smug smile on his head due to your deepening flushed skin. You felt like you were on the brink of sweating, you were so flushed.

“I- uh, huh?”

“When we get freed from the practice room, let’s get coffee. I’ll cancel class so we can. I don’t want to have class after being locked in here all night anyway.”

“I work in the afternoon though,” you lamely told him. He just smiled away, unable to bring himself to feel upset about anything.

“Then I’ll drop you off before work and then pick you up to take you home when you're done.”

“That sounds like you’re trying to flirt with me.”

“Y/n, I’m asking you on a date. Of course I’m flirting.” He deadpanned with a smirk as you shot up from laying down to sitting up. You looked down at him laying on his stomach, that small smirk still painted on his lips as you turned away from him.

“Well, I guess if you’re asking me,” you muttered. “I suppose I could go for some coffee,” you finished. Hoseok had to suppress even more chuckles and teases at the sight of your smile he saw in the reflection of the studio’s mirrors when you accepted his offer.

“Well then, I guess you better get to sleep. We’ve got a date in the morning,” he chided as he shot up to his knees and palms, moved closer to just barely get into your line of sight to wink you. He crawled to his bag he used as a pillow as you lay across the room from him doing the same.

How could you possibly get to sleep now? It didn’t matter, you reasoned; as you’d have coffee later to wake you up.

~END~

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