Trouble Meets Perfection

Title: Trouble Meets Perfection

Jihoon was a menace.

Not the kind of high school troublemaker who got into serious fights or broke windows—but the kind who set off the fire alarm for fun, slipped fake love letters into random lockers, and somehow always convinced their homeroom teacher he had "absolutely no idea" how a frog ended up in the principal’s office.

Taemin, on the other hand, was perfect.

Top of the class, captain of the debate team, beloved by every teacher. He always had his tie properly knotted, his assignments submitted on time, and his hair neatly styled. If there was an opposite to chaos, it was Taemin.

So naturally, the universe thought it would be hilarious to make them seatmates.

"Jihoon, what are you doing?" Taemin hissed, watching in horror as Jihoon casually stuck a piece of gum under the teacher’s desk.

"Enhancing the learning environment," Jihoon grinned.

Taemin smacked his forehead. "Do you have a death wish?"

Jihoon just winked at him. "Relax, angel, no one will know."

"Don't call me that!" Taemin snapped, his ears turning red.

Unfortunately, the nickname stuck.

And so did Jihoon.

It started with small things—Jihoon "borrowing" Taemin’s pens, passing him ridiculous notes in class (Would you rather fight 100 duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?), and appearing next to him out of nowhere between classes.

Taemin tried to ignore him, but it was hard when Jihoon insisted on putting his head on Taemin’s shoulder during history lectures.

"Your uniform smells nice," Jihoon murmured one day, eyes half-closed.

Taemin stiffened. "Get off me."

Jihoon grinned but didn’t move.

Taemin prided himself on being patient. He could handle anything.

But he snapped when Jihoon walked into school with his uniform completely ruined—shirt untucked, tie missing, blazer covered in what looked like… ketchup?

"What happened to you?" Taemin demanded.

Jihoon scratched the back of his head. "Oh, you know… science experiment gone wrong."

Taemin groaned. "You are an embarrassment to this school."

"You love it," Jihoon smirked.

"I do not!"

Jihoon leaned closer, his smirk widening. "You do. Why else would you keep fixing my tie every morning?"

Taemin gaped. "I— I— That’s because you look like a disaster!"

Jihoon only laughed, letting Taemin fix his collar.

One afternoon, Jihoon didn’t show up to class.

Taemin told himself he didn’t care, but his foot tapped anxiously under his desk. When lunch came, he finally gave in and went looking for him.

He found Jihoon sitting on the rooftop, staring at the sky.

"Hey," Taemin said, sitting beside him. "You okay?"