Chapter Text
Yoongi settled into the seat behind his desk, leaning back in the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. Life would have been much easier if the problem kid remained the problem kid and not RM, who he'd been listening to for years. Did the universe hate him? Probably.
A sharp knock on the door startled him, and he huffed out a sigh. “Enter,” he called out, with the knowledge that this day would only get worse. Of course, it had to be a certain insolent asshole. “What assistance may I offer up, oh genius child?”
Namjoon hesitantly held up his hands as he walked over to the desk. “Honestly, I just came to tell you how amazing you were on Saturday night. And here I thought AgustD had died.” He chuckled, still tentative, a not-quite-there smirk playing on his features.
“Leave that at the club. I don't need your praise in the classroom. I need your homework, and that's it. If you haven't done it, we're going to have issues, Kim,” Yoongi snapped back, sharp eyes fixed on the kid's face. “If you turn in the same garbage you've been handing me, you won't pass this class. I promise you that.”
The younger man pulled a chair over and sat down in front of the desk. “Maybe you can help me out with it?”
“It's outlined in the syllabus. What more do you need? Honestly, if you just follow the instructions, you won't fail. How hard is that?” Yoongi leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk and massaged his temples. “That's really all I ask. I have too much other shit to do. I don't need or want to read ten pages of why you seem to think everything in the textbook is wrong. Just do what I ask you to do, and we won't have a problem. No opinions. No bullshit. Just. Follow. The guidelines,” he grit out, frustrated to all hell.
Namjoon reached into his bag to pull out a small stack of papers stapled together. He placed them gingerly on the corner of the desk. “Maybe just a quick glance?”
Yoongi grumbled unintelligibly as he picked up the stack. “Too long, already. I can tell,” he started. “And for fuck's sake...it's 'Doctor.' I didn't spend eight years slaving away at this degree to be called 'Professor.' Next time, I'll just fail the assignment.” He flipped through absently, his sixth sense telling him that the entire paper was another opinion piece. “Do you struggle this much in your other classes, or have you just been bullshitting your way through everything?”
The blonde looked up, his teeth caught between his lips, an obvious sign of nerves. “I don't really struggle in any other subject...” he muttered, looking back down at his hands.
“Tell you what, kid,” Yoongi sighed, dropping the paper back down on the desk. “I'll extend the assignment for everyone. You aren't the only one having problems with directions. Fix this shit before then. If you need help, I'm here. If not...well...you'll probably fail.” Damn his compassionate nature. “You've got another week. This is review week, anyway.”
Namjoon carefully stood and took back his paper, sighing quietly, though Yoongi couldn't determine if it was from relief or something entirely different. “Thank you, Doctor.” He bowed before taking quiet steps from the room and closing the door with a soft click.
After another hour of frustrated grading and a full three mugs of coffee as black as his soul, Yoongi found himself wandering towards the break room. He could hear Seokjin's laughter from outside the door, and his eyebrows knit together. He opened the door and made an attempt to get to the coffee pot before Jin noticed him, but alas, the universe hated him. “Yoongi-ah! What can hyung fix today?” The older man's arm dropped onto his shoulder, but he made no move to shrug him off.
“Coffee,” he muttered, reaching for the carafe.
“Yoongi...you're going to have an ulcer before the day is over,” Jin responded, gently pushing the carafe out of the way. “What's wrong?”
Yoongi pouted aggressively up at Seokjin's concerned face. “Coffee,” he growled, pushing his mug into Jin's abdomen. The older man sighed, taking the mug and filling it. “Damn that kid.” He downed half of the mug before continuing. “Why am I soft, hyung?” Jin led the smaller man over to the sofa, sitting down and pulling Yoongi down with him. “I gave him an extension.” Jin gasped in mock surprise. “Shut up. That's not even the worst part.” He paused to lean forward and drop his head into his hands. “I told him he can come to me for help.”
Jin leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting against his knees. “Let me get this straight. You, an intellectual, offered your assistance to Kim Namjoon, worst nightmare of your career?” Yoongi simply nodded, his face not leaving his hands. “You are soft. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jin's windshield wiper laugh grated on Yoongi's last nerve. He quickly clapped a hand over the older man's mouth. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, hyung? The damage is done. Now, I'm going to have to see this fucking brat probably everyday. I'm going to die, hyung.” He leaned heavily on the man's shoulder, a pout once again gracing his lips.
“At least it's not Jung Hoseok. I think that kid spends more time partying than anything else. Come to think of it, I thought I saw him at the club the other night, but I left right after your performance, so I couldn't confirm.”
Yoongi groaned loudly. “I don't even want to think about this weekend. They were definitely there. You showed up late and left early.”
“They?” Jin cocked his head to the side in question.
“They. Namjoon and Hoseok. Together. Do you not remember seeing them together at the cafe with that twitchy kid that works there?”
“Come to think of it, I do remember that. Great. Two nightmare students conspiring against us. Whatever shall we do, Yoongi-ah?” He slapped the back of his hand against his forehead, dramatically falling back against the sofa.
“Why are you not a theatre major?” Yoongi grumbled, standing and stretching before finishing the rest of his coffee. At this point, he really should have known how useless Jin would be. “I'm done for the day. If anyone comes looking, I'm sick. Puking. Dying. Whatever. Don't call me,” he said as he walked out of the break room and closed the door behind him.
As soon as he arrived home, he stripped himself of his teaching attire and crawled into his bed. The mattress would surely bring him comfort. Except...it didn't. He sighed heavily, staring up at the ceiling as new lyrics formed in his mind.
Your “cut me some slack” whines, bla bla
Yeah fuck the system I say good bye bye
I shatter the bottom to the top
Yeah fuck your belief I say oh die die
He had no idea when he'd be able to perform this track, but he already had a beat in mind. For the moment, however, he needed a long nap. The universe had it out for him, but he wouldn't back down from a challenge. With a small smirk, he curled up on his side and pulled the blankets over himself.