Piano Lessons 2/?
Title: Piano Lessons 2/?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun (minor Yunho/Jaejoong and Junsu/FC)
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd make Yoochun play the piano naked.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 2712
Summary: It's the last year of high school, and Changmin doesn't expect it to be any different than the previous three. And then he finds out that Park Yoochun plays the piano. Tickling the ivories never felt this good.
A/N: This story, unlike the previous ones I've posted, is not finished. So updates will not be as frequent.
This story is in first person, told from Changmin's POV.
Chapter 2 - oh my god, something else he’s good at
The morning dragged. And then dragged some more. At noon, I got dressed. He’d never seen me in anything but my school uniform. I wore some blue jeans, nice ones that hopefully didn’t make it look like I had planned my outfit. A red button up shirt was next, with a gray jacket to stave off the autumn chill. At quarter to one, I left the house. I wanted to run, but I didn’t want to show up all sweaty and frazzled.
A lone figure lay on the lawn of the school. An arm lifted a cigarette and then a puff of smoke dissipated with the breeze.
A few more steps and I realized it was Yoochun. He wore dark jeans. His baby blue t-shirt was pulled up a bit, a strip of stomach standing out against the green grass.
“Hey, you made it,” he said when I stepped into the sun, covering his face in shadow.
“Yeah, but if my mom asks, I’m tutoring you.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” he said. “I do need some help with algebra. Lay down.”
I sat on the grass.
“Lay down,” he said again. “You need to look up, Changmin. You’re always looking down, at your feet, at a book, at the floor.”
“At you,” I muttered and then blushed.
He smiled. “Yeah, just lie down and look up, would you?”
I lay down and looked up.
The sky was blue, with a few clouds. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees.
“Is there anything in particular I should be looking at?”
Yoochun scoffed and blew a cloud of smoke out of his nose. “No. Just see it.”
I mentally sighed. See what?
Yoochun smoked his cigarette. He finished the last drag, tossed the butt away, and then rolled over, propping his head on an elbow. He looked down at me.
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“If you have to ask, then you don’t see it.”
“Damn it, Yoochun, stop speaking in riddles.”
He smirked. “You’re smart. You should be able to figure out riddles.”
I glared at him.
My breath caught when a finger traced around one of the buttons on my shirt.
“You’re going through life with blinders on, Minnie. Yes, you’re smart, but do you have any idea how to deal with people? To know what to say to them to get them to do what you want? It’s those kinds of people who make it in the world, not the ones that can do calculus in their head.”
“So now you’ve gone all philosophical.”
“I’m always like this. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it. At least I know that you sort of get it.”
The button came undone.
“What do I get?” I asked.
“The need.”
“What need?”
“What do you need, Changmin?”
I looked at his finger playing with another button.
“I said need, not want.”
“I need you to stop doing that so I can think straight,” I said.
He laughed and then abruptly sat up. “Come on. I feel like playing.” He stood up and held out a hand for me. I took it and he hauled me to my feet. He didn’t let go of my hand and we headed to the school. The school was unusually silent. Empty.
Alone.
Yoochun opened the door to the music room, I followed him inside, and then he shut the door. The only light shone through the windows across the room.
“You didn’t bring a book or anything, so you won’t mind if I play in the dark for a minute.”
“No. Music is different in the dark.”
“Sit with me.”
Yoochun turned the piano bench and sat on the end. He patted the spot behind him, and then started to play.
I looked at the bench. I could sit backwards, but then I wouldn’t see him play or sideways, but then I’d have to turn to watch. I straddled the bench behind him, leaving a good six inches between us. I still couldn’t see him play. I shut my eyes and let the notes flow over me. It was another song I didn’t recognize. It flowed, over and over, through his fingers, through the keys, into my body and, it sounds silly now, but it danced in me, the notes became me for a brief moment.
And then the feeling shattered when fingers tapped my knee, like playing a piano. The hand on the high notes kept playing. I shifted back and almost off the bench. Yoochun didn’t turn to look at me, but he shrugged.
I was gasping. I got up and without really knowing why, put a hand on Yoochun’s shoulder for a moment. Maybe as an invitation. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want him to think that I minded him touching me.
Far from it, and if I thought about those fingers playing me like they were playing the piano, I was going to have to go to the men’s room.
I walked across the room, feet falling in time to the beat. I stared out the window, lawn and trees and buildings distorted through the thick glass.
The music stopped and started, notes were changed and then played again. Suddenly, the lights went on. I turned around. Yoochun was leaning over the bench, writing on a piece of paper. Then he played a few more notes.
He’s writing his own songs.
My respect and admiration for him more than doubled.
I turned back to the window, listening to him work, softly humming the strain that he was working on with each change he made.
A warm body pressed against me, an arm wrapped around my waist.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I replied and leaned into him.
Yoochun smiled. “Ah, so you can see it.”
I glanced at him, our faces close. And then lying in the grass with him suddenly made sense. He wasn’t looking at anything to look at it. He was just … looking.
“Yeah, I guess I can.”
We stood at the window for a little bit longer, and then he squeezed and let me go. “Will you sing something for me?”
“What?”
“Just a couple of lines.”
Back at the piano, he handed me music sheets. Neat notes were etched on them, lyrics underneath. I heard the melody in my head. It’s what he was working on. He sat down, played the two lines.
“Just sing from here to here,” he said.
I read through the lines a couple of times. “Okay.”
What would you see if you tried to find who you are inside?
What would you see if you let me in, to chase away the pain?
Yoochun took a deep breath. “It’s still not quite right.”
As he went back to editing, I read the rest of the incomplete lyrics. “This song is really good.”
“Eh, it’s alright. I’ve been working on it for almost two months now. It’s the bane of my existence but it won’t leave me alone. You distracted me from it for a few days, but now it’s time to work on it again.”
“Why aren’t you in the music program?”
“Didn’t I say that Professor Kim knows that I play here? I meet with him sometimes and he critiques my songs. I have to have this song done by the end of next week. He’s already promised letters of recommendation to music schools and says there’s nothing that any class here can teach me that I don’t already know. Waste of time, he says. But he also says that I have to get my grades up to get into a good school and … well, what I said before about needing help with algebra is true.”
“I’ll be glad to help you.”
He looked up, slightly embarrassed. “Really.”
“Yes. If you help with my English,” I said in English.
He grinned. “Deal.”
“What?”
“Deal.” He repeated it in Korean. “Like, okay. That’s a trade. It’s a deal.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that word.”
He looked at his music sheets again, sighed and then said, “Sit back down.”
I sat back down, again leaving space between us. He smirked over his shoulder at me, slid into me. His hands reached behind me, pressed our bodies together, and then he moved forward. Leaning against me, he started playing again. I had no idea where to put my hands. I knew where I wanted to. I gripped my knees until my knuckles went white.
“You need to relax,” Yoochun muttered, shifting until his head leaned on my shoulder. He never stopped playing. Shaking, I wrapped one arm around his chest, the other around his waist. Our cheeks pressed together. I felt him smile. I shut my eyes and got lost in the sensations. My hands stayed still, but my fingers moved to the beat, pressing lightly into his muscles.
He sighed, the notes slowed down. He slid his cheek along mine. A skiff of stubble scratched my skin. I held him closer, his fingers faltered, one hand leaving the keys to slide into my hair. He leaned his head back further. Tightened his hold on my head. The sides of our mouths brushed.
He hit a bad note, moaned, turned toward me, kissed me. So soft.
I stopped breathing. For a moment anyway.
He rubbed against me, pulling a needy moan from my throat. He ended the first press of lips, and started the second. By the third I was out of the stupor enough to actually kiss him back. He moaned again. He tried to turn around, but our legs entangled and the bench was in the way. My breath was knocked out of me as I fell to the ground, landing on my back, clutching Yoochun to me. He recovered immediately. Lips pressed against mine. Tongue sliding along my bottom lip. I groaned, mouth falling open and then he was kissing me, cautious, but playful, tongue teasing mine. I did my best to mimic him.
It’s not like I’d ever kissed anyone before so I can honestly say it was the best kiss of my life.
He pulled back. My head thunked to the ground, breath gasping in the silence.
“Not bad, Changmin-shi.”
I scoffed. “Thanks, I guess.”
“First kiss?”
“Affirmative.”
“Sorry. Should have asked-”
I shut him up by kissing him again. His lips curled in a grin against mine. Long minutes later, after I had decided that I wanted to kiss Yoochun forever, he pulled away again.
I whimpered, and he smiled and pecked my lips. “You are really distracting.”
I froze when he shoved his hand in my pocket. He pulled out my phone, hit some buttons and then smiled. “There, now you have my number.” Another push of a button and something vibrated on my hip. It stopped almost immediately. “And now I have your number.”
He put my phone back and then kissed me again. “Call me tomorrow,” he said.
“Why?”
His lips fluttered along my cheeks, down my jaw line. I moaned and arched into him. “Is this enough of a reason, or do you need another one?”
He kissed my neck. Those deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt. His hand slid along my skin. I moaned, grabbed his face and pulled him back to my lips. The kiss was deep, searching, aching. Not enough and more than enough and too much.
We rolled over. His hands moved, under my shirt to my back, digging, grabbing. Each finger tip burned against my skin. I concentrated so hard on those fingers that quite suddenly I realized my hand had slipped under his shirt and touched his side and stomach.
We both jerked away when my phone started shrilling wildly.
I sighed, aligned our cheeks again and whispered, “Why does time go so quickly when I’m with you?”
Yoochun shimmied out from under me. I rolled to my back, reluctant to get up. He stood over me, feet on either side of my hips. He leaned down, hands planted on my chest and smiled at me.
“I like you, Changmin. You may not believe me, but I’ve had my eye on you since school started. I’ve always admired your drive and ambition. It made me realize that if I didn’t get my act together, I wouldn’t be able to go to college.”
He straightened. With a sigh he shut his eyes and tilted his head back. I looked up his body, eyes lingering on his crotch and his still bunched up t-shirt. My hands reached, touched his knees and slid up the back of his thighs.
He smiled and looked down at me. “You have to go home,” he said and stepped away from me.
“I don’t want to.”
He helped me up. I pushed him against the piano and kissed him again. His hands clutched at my hips. I met his pull with a push and the piano slid back, scraping along the wood floor.
“Abuse of school property,” he said, hands sliding to grab my ass.
“Abuse of the school’s valedictorian.”
He laughed and pushed me away.
“Come over tomorrow,” I said quickly.
“Can’t live without me already?”
“Seriously. I can help you with your algebra.”
He frowned and looked away. “Yeah, maybe.”
After a moment of silence, I whispered, “What’s wrong, Chunnie?”
He smiled at the nickname and then let me hug him. “Call me.”
“I will.”
“Now scat before you get in trouble. Although, you might want to button your shirt up.”
I laughed and opened the shirt. His hands immediately touched my skin, and I shivered, hugging him again. He kissed my collar bone as his hands moved up my chest, to my shoulders. The shirt fell to my elbows. He leaned me away, lips and tongue dropped down my chest. I cried out when his tongue swirled around my nipple.
“Damn it, Changmin,” he said and with obvious effort pushed me away, but I wasn’t ready to go away yet. I shoved him back up against the piano, kissing him, biting his lips and neck. Hands under his shirt.
“Please, Minnie,” he whispered.
But he didn’t specify what he was asking for. It made me think though. And I was having such a great time not thinking for a moment. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t even know Yoochun.
I stopped my worship of his collar bone with difficulty. Gasping, I had to put one hand on the piano to steady myself. His breath was harsh against my shoulder.
“And here I admired your self control,” Yoochun said.
“You said ambition,” I replied, still gasping.
“Yes, but I admire your self control, too.”
“Is this a test to prove I have self control? Because honestly, that’s one I don’t mind failing.”
Yoochun laughed. He kissed my shoulder and pushed me away. This time I let him. I put my shirt back on and buttoned it up, tucked it in. He smiled at me, and then ran hands through my hair, settling it. He handed me my jacket.
“Go on,” Yoochun said.
“I feel like you’re trying to get rid of me.”
He smirked. “Maybe there’s something I have to do that requires being alone.”
It took me a moment to figure out what he meant and then I licked my lips. “No need to be alone.”
“See, you can figure out riddles.”
When he turned away from me again, I hugged him from behind.
“Later,” he promised, “but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll go this time.” But I still held on to him. Until he laughed. He turned in my embrace and let me kiss him again.
This time I stepped away from him. I shut my eyes, and forcefully turned and walked to the door. After the first two steps, I opened my eyes, and just barely missed tripping over the upturned piano bench.
Yoochun laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I almost turned around, but if I saw him again, I wouldn’t have left. I walked through the deserted school, and then when I got outside, I ran, dispelling pent up energy.
Chapter 3 - at least i'm better at math than he is
Chapter 1 - so he is good at something besides looking good?
.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun (minor Yunho/Jaejoong and Junsu/FC)
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd make Yoochun play the piano naked.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 2712
Summary: It's the last year of high school, and Changmin doesn't expect it to be any different than the previous three. And then he finds out that Park Yoochun plays the piano. Tickling the ivories never felt this good.
A/N: This story, unlike the previous ones I've posted, is not finished. So updates will not be as frequent.
This story is in first person, told from Changmin's POV.
Chapter 2 - oh my god, something else he’s good at
The morning dragged. And then dragged some more. At noon, I got dressed. He’d never seen me in anything but my school uniform. I wore some blue jeans, nice ones that hopefully didn’t make it look like I had planned my outfit. A red button up shirt was next, with a gray jacket to stave off the autumn chill. At quarter to one, I left the house. I wanted to run, but I didn’t want to show up all sweaty and frazzled.
A lone figure lay on the lawn of the school. An arm lifted a cigarette and then a puff of smoke dissipated with the breeze.
A few more steps and I realized it was Yoochun. He wore dark jeans. His baby blue t-shirt was pulled up a bit, a strip of stomach standing out against the green grass.
“Hey, you made it,” he said when I stepped into the sun, covering his face in shadow.
“Yeah, but if my mom asks, I’m tutoring you.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” he said. “I do need some help with algebra. Lay down.”
I sat on the grass.
“Lay down,” he said again. “You need to look up, Changmin. You’re always looking down, at your feet, at a book, at the floor.”
“At you,” I muttered and then blushed.
He smiled. “Yeah, just lie down and look up, would you?”
I lay down and looked up.
The sky was blue, with a few clouds. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees.
“Is there anything in particular I should be looking at?”
Yoochun scoffed and blew a cloud of smoke out of his nose. “No. Just see it.”
I mentally sighed. See what?
Yoochun smoked his cigarette. He finished the last drag, tossed the butt away, and then rolled over, propping his head on an elbow. He looked down at me.
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“If you have to ask, then you don’t see it.”
“Damn it, Yoochun, stop speaking in riddles.”
He smirked. “You’re smart. You should be able to figure out riddles.”
I glared at him.
My breath caught when a finger traced around one of the buttons on my shirt.
“You’re going through life with blinders on, Minnie. Yes, you’re smart, but do you have any idea how to deal with people? To know what to say to them to get them to do what you want? It’s those kinds of people who make it in the world, not the ones that can do calculus in their head.”
“So now you’ve gone all philosophical.”
“I’m always like this. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it. At least I know that you sort of get it.”
The button came undone.
“What do I get?” I asked.
“The need.”
“What need?”
“What do you need, Changmin?”
I looked at his finger playing with another button.
“I said need, not want.”
“I need you to stop doing that so I can think straight,” I said.
He laughed and then abruptly sat up. “Come on. I feel like playing.” He stood up and held out a hand for me. I took it and he hauled me to my feet. He didn’t let go of my hand and we headed to the school. The school was unusually silent. Empty.
Alone.
Yoochun opened the door to the music room, I followed him inside, and then he shut the door. The only light shone through the windows across the room.
“You didn’t bring a book or anything, so you won’t mind if I play in the dark for a minute.”
“No. Music is different in the dark.”
“Sit with me.”
Yoochun turned the piano bench and sat on the end. He patted the spot behind him, and then started to play.
I looked at the bench. I could sit backwards, but then I wouldn’t see him play or sideways, but then I’d have to turn to watch. I straddled the bench behind him, leaving a good six inches between us. I still couldn’t see him play. I shut my eyes and let the notes flow over me. It was another song I didn’t recognize. It flowed, over and over, through his fingers, through the keys, into my body and, it sounds silly now, but it danced in me, the notes became me for a brief moment.
And then the feeling shattered when fingers tapped my knee, like playing a piano. The hand on the high notes kept playing. I shifted back and almost off the bench. Yoochun didn’t turn to look at me, but he shrugged.
I was gasping. I got up and without really knowing why, put a hand on Yoochun’s shoulder for a moment. Maybe as an invitation. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want him to think that I minded him touching me.
Far from it, and if I thought about those fingers playing me like they were playing the piano, I was going to have to go to the men’s room.
I walked across the room, feet falling in time to the beat. I stared out the window, lawn and trees and buildings distorted through the thick glass.
The music stopped and started, notes were changed and then played again. Suddenly, the lights went on. I turned around. Yoochun was leaning over the bench, writing on a piece of paper. Then he played a few more notes.
He’s writing his own songs.
My respect and admiration for him more than doubled.
I turned back to the window, listening to him work, softly humming the strain that he was working on with each change he made.
A warm body pressed against me, an arm wrapped around my waist.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I replied and leaned into him.
Yoochun smiled. “Ah, so you can see it.”
I glanced at him, our faces close. And then lying in the grass with him suddenly made sense. He wasn’t looking at anything to look at it. He was just … looking.
“Yeah, I guess I can.”
We stood at the window for a little bit longer, and then he squeezed and let me go. “Will you sing something for me?”
“What?”
“Just a couple of lines.”
Back at the piano, he handed me music sheets. Neat notes were etched on them, lyrics underneath. I heard the melody in my head. It’s what he was working on. He sat down, played the two lines.
“Just sing from here to here,” he said.
I read through the lines a couple of times. “Okay.”
What would you see if you tried to find who you are inside?
What would you see if you let me in, to chase away the pain?
Yoochun took a deep breath. “It’s still not quite right.”
As he went back to editing, I read the rest of the incomplete lyrics. “This song is really good.”
“Eh, it’s alright. I’ve been working on it for almost two months now. It’s the bane of my existence but it won’t leave me alone. You distracted me from it for a few days, but now it’s time to work on it again.”
“Why aren’t you in the music program?”
“Didn’t I say that Professor Kim knows that I play here? I meet with him sometimes and he critiques my songs. I have to have this song done by the end of next week. He’s already promised letters of recommendation to music schools and says there’s nothing that any class here can teach me that I don’t already know. Waste of time, he says. But he also says that I have to get my grades up to get into a good school and … well, what I said before about needing help with algebra is true.”
“I’ll be glad to help you.”
He looked up, slightly embarrassed. “Really.”
“Yes. If you help with my English,” I said in English.
He grinned. “Deal.”
“What?”
“Deal.” He repeated it in Korean. “Like, okay. That’s a trade. It’s a deal.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that word.”
He looked at his music sheets again, sighed and then said, “Sit back down.”
I sat back down, again leaving space between us. He smirked over his shoulder at me, slid into me. His hands reached behind me, pressed our bodies together, and then he moved forward. Leaning against me, he started playing again. I had no idea where to put my hands. I knew where I wanted to. I gripped my knees until my knuckles went white.
“You need to relax,” Yoochun muttered, shifting until his head leaned on my shoulder. He never stopped playing. Shaking, I wrapped one arm around his chest, the other around his waist. Our cheeks pressed together. I felt him smile. I shut my eyes and got lost in the sensations. My hands stayed still, but my fingers moved to the beat, pressing lightly into his muscles.
He sighed, the notes slowed down. He slid his cheek along mine. A skiff of stubble scratched my skin. I held him closer, his fingers faltered, one hand leaving the keys to slide into my hair. He leaned his head back further. Tightened his hold on my head. The sides of our mouths brushed.
He hit a bad note, moaned, turned toward me, kissed me. So soft.
I stopped breathing. For a moment anyway.
He rubbed against me, pulling a needy moan from my throat. He ended the first press of lips, and started the second. By the third I was out of the stupor enough to actually kiss him back. He moaned again. He tried to turn around, but our legs entangled and the bench was in the way. My breath was knocked out of me as I fell to the ground, landing on my back, clutching Yoochun to me. He recovered immediately. Lips pressed against mine. Tongue sliding along my bottom lip. I groaned, mouth falling open and then he was kissing me, cautious, but playful, tongue teasing mine. I did my best to mimic him.
It’s not like I’d ever kissed anyone before so I can honestly say it was the best kiss of my life.
He pulled back. My head thunked to the ground, breath gasping in the silence.
“Not bad, Changmin-shi.”
I scoffed. “Thanks, I guess.”
“First kiss?”
“Affirmative.”
“Sorry. Should have asked-”
I shut him up by kissing him again. His lips curled in a grin against mine. Long minutes later, after I had decided that I wanted to kiss Yoochun forever, he pulled away again.
I whimpered, and he smiled and pecked my lips. “You are really distracting.”
I froze when he shoved his hand in my pocket. He pulled out my phone, hit some buttons and then smiled. “There, now you have my number.” Another push of a button and something vibrated on my hip. It stopped almost immediately. “And now I have your number.”
He put my phone back and then kissed me again. “Call me tomorrow,” he said.
“Why?”
His lips fluttered along my cheeks, down my jaw line. I moaned and arched into him. “Is this enough of a reason, or do you need another one?”
He kissed my neck. Those deft fingers unbuttoned my shirt. His hand slid along my skin. I moaned, grabbed his face and pulled him back to my lips. The kiss was deep, searching, aching. Not enough and more than enough and too much.
We rolled over. His hands moved, under my shirt to my back, digging, grabbing. Each finger tip burned against my skin. I concentrated so hard on those fingers that quite suddenly I realized my hand had slipped under his shirt and touched his side and stomach.
We both jerked away when my phone started shrilling wildly.
I sighed, aligned our cheeks again and whispered, “Why does time go so quickly when I’m with you?”
Yoochun shimmied out from under me. I rolled to my back, reluctant to get up. He stood over me, feet on either side of my hips. He leaned down, hands planted on my chest and smiled at me.
“I like you, Changmin. You may not believe me, but I’ve had my eye on you since school started. I’ve always admired your drive and ambition. It made me realize that if I didn’t get my act together, I wouldn’t be able to go to college.”
He straightened. With a sigh he shut his eyes and tilted his head back. I looked up his body, eyes lingering on his crotch and his still bunched up t-shirt. My hands reached, touched his knees and slid up the back of his thighs.
He smiled and looked down at me. “You have to go home,” he said and stepped away from me.
“I don’t want to.”
He helped me up. I pushed him against the piano and kissed him again. His hands clutched at my hips. I met his pull with a push and the piano slid back, scraping along the wood floor.
“Abuse of school property,” he said, hands sliding to grab my ass.
“Abuse of the school’s valedictorian.”
He laughed and pushed me away.
“Come over tomorrow,” I said quickly.
“Can’t live without me already?”
“Seriously. I can help you with your algebra.”
He frowned and looked away. “Yeah, maybe.”
After a moment of silence, I whispered, “What’s wrong, Chunnie?”
He smiled at the nickname and then let me hug him. “Call me.”
“I will.”
“Now scat before you get in trouble. Although, you might want to button your shirt up.”
I laughed and opened the shirt. His hands immediately touched my skin, and I shivered, hugging him again. He kissed my collar bone as his hands moved up my chest, to my shoulders. The shirt fell to my elbows. He leaned me away, lips and tongue dropped down my chest. I cried out when his tongue swirled around my nipple.
“Damn it, Changmin,” he said and with obvious effort pushed me away, but I wasn’t ready to go away yet. I shoved him back up against the piano, kissing him, biting his lips and neck. Hands under his shirt.
“Please, Minnie,” he whispered.
But he didn’t specify what he was asking for. It made me think though. And I was having such a great time not thinking for a moment. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t even know Yoochun.
I stopped my worship of his collar bone with difficulty. Gasping, I had to put one hand on the piano to steady myself. His breath was harsh against my shoulder.
“And here I admired your self control,” Yoochun said.
“You said ambition,” I replied, still gasping.
“Yes, but I admire your self control, too.”
“Is this a test to prove I have self control? Because honestly, that’s one I don’t mind failing.”
Yoochun laughed. He kissed my shoulder and pushed me away. This time I let him. I put my shirt back on and buttoned it up, tucked it in. He smiled at me, and then ran hands through my hair, settling it. He handed me my jacket.
“Go on,” Yoochun said.
“I feel like you’re trying to get rid of me.”
He smirked. “Maybe there’s something I have to do that requires being alone.”
It took me a moment to figure out what he meant and then I licked my lips. “No need to be alone.”
“See, you can figure out riddles.”
When he turned away from me again, I hugged him from behind.
“Later,” he promised, “but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll go this time.” But I still held on to him. Until he laughed. He turned in my embrace and let me kiss him again.
This time I stepped away from him. I shut my eyes, and forcefully turned and walked to the door. After the first two steps, I opened my eyes, and just barely missed tripping over the upturned piano bench.
Yoochun laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I almost turned around, but if I saw him again, I wouldn’t have left. I walked through the deserted school, and then when I got outside, I ran, dispelling pent up energy.
Chapter 3 - at least i'm better at math than he is
Chapter 1 - so he is good at something besides looking good?
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