Rush 1/5
Title: Rush 1/5
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong (minor Yunho/Yoochun, Yunho/Donghae, implied Junho/Jaejoong)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is one of those fics that if they would mine I would make them act it out instead of me just writing it, but I don't own them, so instead of a video, you guys get a story.
Summary: Jaejoong wants Professor Jung to take his virginity, but the old man is being difficult.
Warning: teacher/student, older!Yunho (41) and younger!Jaejoong (18) (in the first part Jaejoong is only 15, but there is no smut between them), virgin!Jaejoong, lots of sex, and extremely rough sex near the end
A/N: This fic was only supposed to be a one shot ... OTL ... :) Enjoy! And the title is not inspired by Paula Abdul, just FYI, although now that song is stuck in my head.
Fan poster by vik720. Thank you! ♥♥♥
Part 1:
Just in case you need a visual of the Jaejoong in my mind.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Professor Jung?”
Yunho hums as he marks another answer wrong on the history test in front of him.
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
Yunho drops his pen and his head snaps up. Well, Jaejoong said it was a personal question. “That is not an appropriate question to ask me.”
“Oh, come on, Professor. It’s just you and me here.”
“Because you’re the only one that is consistently given detention in this school.”
Jaejoong huffs.
“Why are you asking?”
Jaejoong’s cheeks pink, and it’s his turn to look down at the desk.
Yunho stares at him worrying his lower lip that has a hole for a piercing. But the boy says nothing else, and Yunho’s pen scratching on papers fills the room again.
“I just really want to get it over with,” Jaejoong says suddenly.
Yunho is shocked that the boy is a virgin. He’s known as the school rebel, doing all that he can to get into trouble, stay at school for a bit longer so he doesn’t have to go home. There are some days when Jaejoong comes to Yunho’s classroom after school when he isn’t even scheduled for detention.
Jaejoong is still staring at his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. He’s spinning a ring around his finger. He looks up, sees Yunho watching him and then looks down. “I just ... I don’t know. Just fucking get it over with.”
“You’re still young,” Yunho says softly. “You shouldn’t rush it.”
“Did you rush it?” Jaejoong asks.
Yunho thinks about not answering. This is not a conversation he has ever had with a student, and he does not have children of his own. He also knows that there is no one at Jaejoong’s home that he could have this conversation with. No one has exact details of what goes on in the boy’s house, but with a mother who is always working, eight older sisters and a drunkard father, Yunho understands why Jaejoong is talking to him.
Yunho puts his pen down and loosens his tie. He leans back in his chair, arms behind his head, and ponders Jaejoong for a moment. He’s only sixteen, and Yunho bites his lips against telling the boy he should wait, that sex is special, between people who love each other. He isn’t naive, and he knows that Jaejoong isn’t naive.
“Yes, I rushed it. I was sixteen.”
Jaejoong looks at him wide eyed, cheeks still red. He looks away, chewing on his lip again. Yunho has a sudden urge to chew on it for him. Though, he prefers to have the piercing in his lip while he chews on it.
“I rushed it because I was confused,” Yunho continues, figuring the boy deserves the entire story. “I was more attracted to my fellow soccer team members than the girls who came to the games to cheer us on. So I rushed it, trying to figure out what I wanted, and it wasn’t the girl who thought I loved her. I have always regretted hurting her.”
“So you think I should wait?” Jaejoong asks.
Yunho expected some acknowledgment from telling Jaejoong his sexual orientation, but the boy probably already knew. Yunho did not exactly hide it; he just didn’t flaunt it around. “I didn’t say that,” Yunho says. “Just don’t rush it. Don’t fuck for fucking’s sake. You should definitely enjoy it.”
“What if I’m confused, too?” Jaejoong asks quietly.
Yunho is having a hard time with this less than confident version of Jaejoong. The Jaejoong he knows always has his head up, always attacks problems with force, never lets anyone push him around.
“Are you confused?”
Jaejoong looks up and meets his eyes, and there is the spark of rebellion that Yunho is used to seeing.
“No,” Jaejoong says after a moment. “I know exactly who I want.”
The air in the room is suddenly stifling and Yunho swallows roughly. So maybe Jaejoong’s trips to his classroom aren’t just because he doesn’t want to go home.
The boy is beautiful, everyone can see it. His face is round, framed by styled, black hair that is almost too long. Yunho has watched him charm teachers with his big eyes and pouty lips. He has no problem putting dark eyeliner on or smacking lip-glossed lips. There are holes for earrings up both ears, one in his eyebrow and the one in his lip. Yunho has wondered on more than one occasion if there are piercings in other places.
Jaejoong sighs. “Sorry. I know it’s not possible.”
“No,” Yunho says and has to clear his throat. “It’s not possible.”
“Would you?” Jaejoong asks, almost demands.
“That’s a dangerous question.”
“And that isn’t an answer.”
“I could lose my job.”
“If you couldn’t? If you weren’t my teacher?”
Yunho stops breathing. How had this conversation escalated into this? Jaejoong stares at him intently, waiting for his answer, but not answering is answer enough. Because yes, he will bend that boy over and fuck him until they both fall apart if he is able to.
“You are only fifteen. I’m more than twice your age,” Yunho tries.
Jaejoong smirks at him, cheeks still that adorable embarrassed pink. “But you still would.”
“Yes, fuck, there, are you happy?”
Jaejoong bites his lip and whispers. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“No,” Yunho says, shuffling his papers to hide his shaking hands.
“But I won’t!”
“No, Jaejoong, shit. Think about what you’re asking me!”
“I am and I have and I want you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not going to argue in circles with you, young man. No.”
Jaejoong slouches in his chair with his arm crossed.
He is pouting up a storm and Yunho wishes he had super glue to keep him in his chair. But he stands up, walks around his desk and leans against it. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.
“Don’t be upset,” Yunho says quietly, fully aware of the open door. “You’re beautiful, but you’re young. You’ll find--”
Jaejoong’s deep sigh cuts him off, and then he mutters, “I’ll find someone. Yeah. No thanks. Maybe I’ll just go home and have Soonli’s boyfriend fuck me like he keeps hinting at.”
Yunho huffs and crosses his arms to mirror the boy’s stance. “Don’t rush it.”
Jaejoong flips him off and then his head snaps up and he smiles slowly. “It’s because you’re my teacher, and I’m too young.”
Cautiously, Yunho nods.
“So if you weren’t my teacher and I was eighteen, then you would.”
It isn’t a question.
“Jaejoong, eighteen is still young for me. I’m almost forty. I will be forty before you’re eighteen.”
“But you wouldn’t get fired or thrown in prison.”
“No, I wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I’d--”
Jaejoong stands up, biting his lower lip again. “I want you, Professor Jung. But I like you, and you’re a good teacher, so I won’t push, but in two years and four months,” Jaejoong lets that trail off.
Yunho shivers.
“I can wait,” Jaejoong says and heads to the door. “I can wait for you.”
Technically, his detention for cursing in Yoochun’s poetry class isn’t over and that’s the only reason Yunho calls his name.
Jaejoong stops and turns around.
Yunho shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“Not yet.”
“No. I can’t.”
Jaejoong pouts and walks closer to him. “You will. In two years, you’ll want me.”
Yunho doesn’t stop him from stepping into his personal space. Even with him leaning on the desk, Jaejoong still looks up at him.
“It’s not a question of wanting you,” Yunho whispers and wishes the statement back, but it’s too late, and Jaejoong is too close. His smile is blinding, and then soft, vanilla flavored lips are pressed against his. Too quick for Yunho to kiss back, and Jaejoong pulls away and heads to the door again, throwing a “Two years” over his shoulder.
Yunho’s lips are tingling. He buries his face in his hands and curses long and loud enough that the words are echoing in the empty classroom.
---R---U---S---H---
2 years later ...
Jaejoong puts his head to the table with a muttered curse. Calculus questions are rambling around his brain. There is an exam tomorrow that he does not feel prepared for.
“Hyung, calm down,” Changmin says. “This is easy. You got this.”
“You’re one to talk, Mister Genius,” Jaejoong mutters.
Shim Changmin is only sixteen, but in Jaejoong’s class. He skipped a grade in elementary school, and then again last year when Changmin skipped the first year of high school and was put with the second years. He’s still smarter than everyone in their class, and that doesn’t equate to having friends. Jaejoong knew what it was like to feel so alone surrounded by people so they became friends despite their oil/water relationship.
The rest of their friends call them Soul Fighters, because they fight so often and so deeply with their emotions.
Junsu calls them boyfriends.
“Ugh, I hate this shit,” Jaejoong growls.
Changmin chuckles. “Let’s do a few more problems and then we’ll go out and get something to eat.”
Jaejoong nods. “Fine, but after this I am not looking at this book again until I have to. There is such a thing as too much information.”
“Yeah, but too much information is more like me telling you that I jerk off to fisting porn.”
Jaejoong chokes on spit, eyes wide.
His dongsaeng smirks. “What?”
“F-fisting ... people really do that?”
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Yes, oh god, are you seventeen or not? Haven’t you watched porn?”
“Well, not really, but ... I just ... oh god.” Jaejoong holds his stomach and groans.
Changmin laughs. “Oh, god, I wasn’t really sure until now, but hyung, you’re a virgin, huh?”
Jaejoong’s cheeks turn pink and he looks around the library but no one is staring at him, and Changmin isn’t talking that loud. “Shut up, and yes, so what?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you a virgin? I watch girls and guys throw themselves at you, drunk or not. Hell, even Junho, who is very much straight, has been heard saying he’d take you to bed given the chance. Are you saving yourself for someone special?”
Jaejoong feels his cheeks burn, knowing they’re probably bright red by now.
“Oh god, hyung, that is so lame.”
“Shut up,” Jaejoong growls. “So what?”
“Anyone in particular?”
“No, shut up.”
“Not a certain History teacher that you moon over every time you see him the hallway, and walk past his classroom even when there is a shorter route to your next class?”
“Shut up!” Jaejoong growls.
The librarian shushes them.
Changmin chuckles. “At least you have good taste. Professor Jung is hot. Too bad he has a boyfriend.”
Jaejoong head shoots up from the table. “What?”
Changmin clears his throat. “You didn’t know?”
“No. What do you mean?”
“At the last dance, you didn’t see him?”
“I didn’t go to the last dance,” Jaejoong says, chest tightening. He wanted to go, but his sister ... He pushes away the image of her overdosed-drugged up body hooked up to hospital machines.
“Oh. He was a chaperone and brought a date, and you should have seen them dance together. He can still move for an old guy.”
“Forty-one is not old,” Jaejoong says and gathers up his things.
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Fuck off.” Jaejoong hefts his bag over his shoulder and leaves the library. His feet stomp through the well-known hallways, the only place he has ever considered home for the last three years. He can feel the sting of tears behind his eyes and that makes him angrier. He’s crying? Over this? Only his family gets his tears. Not some, frustrating, annoying, betraying high school history teacher.
Betraying?
He never made you any promises.
Jaejoong growls at himself. He turns a corner and can see Professor Jung sitting at his desk. There are three students in the room with him, serving detention. He doesn’t care. He stalks into the room and then stops.
Professor Jung looks up, and then smiles. “Hi, Jaejoong-ah.”
“Fuck you,” Jaejoong snaps even as his heart flutters, because he is the only student that Professor Jung talks with so casually.
The three students all inhale sharply.
“Watch your tone, young man,” Professor Jung says calmly.
“Fuck you. I’m going to keep cursing at you until you give me detention right now.”
Professor Jung chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You don’t ever need to have detention to come sit in my classroom after school. Why change that? Have a seat.”
Jaejoong sits in the front row and crosses his arms and glares. He notices in his anger that Professor Jung looks at his arms. In the library, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, and he absently remembers that he left his school jacket there. Good, let him look. Jaejoong has been in the gym before and after school trying to catch up to Junho and Junsu in the muscles department. He says nothing else and glares at his teacher.
His favorite teacher.
Jaejoong swallows the growing lump in his throat. After that single kiss so long ago, Jaejoong has done nothing but follow Professor Jung’s advice. He still gets into fights, because people think he’s pretty so therefore weak. And he has to protect his mom. He still smokes and curses and drinks. But he does his school work, he’s applying to colleges, and he’s waiting.
He isn’t rushing it.
No matter how many people have offered. Or tried to force him.
The standard two-hour detention block is almost over. Jaejoong does not take his eyes from his professor, and Professor Jung keeps his eyes on his grading. Jaejoong hasn’t taken another class with him, needing only one year of Korean history, but that hasn’t stopped him from coming into his class after school to talk to him. Or sit here for two hours when he has detention. Professor Jung has never brought up the kiss nor has he changed the way he treats Jaejoong.
Part of Jaejoong is grateful, the other part confused. Professor Jung said that he wanted Jaejoong, but he certainly never acts like it. Jaejoong definitely wants him, even more so than when he was fifteen. Professor Jung has gotten even hotter in the last two years. Sure, he still dresses like a geek with ugly brown tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, but his body still fills those jackets out perfectly, and it’s a little hard not to notice how well-built Professor Jung is. His dark brown hair is slightly gray at his temples, something that could easily be dyed away, but Jaejoong is glad he doesn’t. The lines around his eyes and mouth show that even with the stress of being a teacher, the man spends a lot of time laughing and smiling.
With his boyfriend.
Jaejoong’s throat closes against a noise, but not fast enough and Professor Jung looks up, concerned.
Jaejoong bites his lip and looks away.
The timer on Professor Jung’s desk beeps, and the other three students gather their books. They shoot looks at both Jaejoong who hasn’t moved and Professor Jung. Their teacher/student friendship is well known, and Jaejoong has heard enough rumors about there being more between them that it has worried him. He went to principal one day, just to assure him that Professor Jung is nothing more than a mentor, since Jaejoong is sorely lacking in mentors at his own home.
The principal understood then. He probably wouldn’t have if Professor Jung really was fucking him.
Just a few more months. Just a few more.
“Well,” Professor Jung says. “What do you want?”
Jaejoong looks up. “You know what I want,” he snaps before he can stop himself. It is the very first time he has mentioned it since that day almost two years ago.
Professor Jung takes a really deep breath. “Yes, but I meant today, barging in here when you don’t have to be here. Don’t you have a Calculus test tomorrow?”
Jaejoong’s heart flutters, because Professor Jung remembers and knows his schedule. But then it contracts again because of why he’s there.
“You have a boyfriend.”
Professor Jung sighs again and nods.
“I can’t believe you have a boyfriend,” Jaejoong almost shouts.
“Jaejoong-ah,” he tries.
But Jaejoong cuts him off. “Since the last dance, before that, how long?”
“I don’t have to answer to you, young man.”
“You can’t!” Jaejoong demands, rising from his seat.
Professor Jung levels him with a look and Jaejoong sinks back to his seat with his arms crossed, cursing himself. He’s acting like a ... like a ... like an immature, petulant teenager. He puts his head on his desk. The stress from his looming test, his sisters’ choices, his mother’s health, and now this new, painful realization that maybe Professor Jung doesn’t want him, leaves his eyes stinging. Again.
“Jaejoong-ah,” Professor Jung whispers, “I told you. You’re way too young for me, even if you are almost eighteen.”
“It’s not fair,” Jaejoong says, voice choked. He lifts his head, resting his chin on the desk. “You can’t. You ... you ... you just can’t.”
Professor Jung meets his eyes. His mouth is turned down in concern, and Jaejoong knows he’s about to cry. He fucking hates crying.
“His name is Donghae, and he’s my age, and I’ve been dating him for almost a year.”
Jaejoong bites his lip against a wail. God, he does not want to cry in front of Professor Jung. He pushes the chair back, stands up and grabs his bag. “Four months, graduation is in four months.”
“Jaejoong-ah,” Yunho tries again.
Jaejoong shakes his head, long tresses catching on his wet eyelashes. He huffs in frustration and pushes his hair off his forehead. “Four months, and I still want it to be you.” Jaejoong swallows the lump in his throat. His cheeks go pink, but the tears don’t fall. “I want you to kiss me and touch me and be the first person to press inside me and make me come.”
Professor Jung swallows harshly.
With a bitter smile, Jaejoong adds, “I’m so fucking angry right now, but ... I can wait four more months. And if you’re still with Donghae, then ... well, someone else will fuck me. I hear that Kim Junho is willing to go gay for me, so I have options.”
Jaejoong can’t look at him anymore, can’t stand the pity in his eyes, or maybe it’s regret. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to see it. He turns away and stalks out of the room, tears finally falling when Professor Jung doesn’t call him back.
Part 2: Under My Skin
.
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong (minor Yunho/Yoochun, Yunho/Donghae, implied Junho/Jaejoong)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is one of those fics that if they would mine I would make them act it out instead of me just writing it, but I don't own them, so instead of a video, you guys get a story.
Summary: Jaejoong wants Professor Jung to take his virginity, but the old man is being difficult.
Warning: teacher/student, older!Yunho (41) and younger!Jaejoong (18) (in the first part Jaejoong is only 15, but there is no smut between them), virgin!Jaejoong, lots of sex, and extremely rough sex near the end
A/N: This fic was only supposed to be a one shot ... OTL ... :) Enjoy! And the title is not inspired by Paula Abdul, just FYI, although now that song is stuck in my head.
Fan poster by vik720. Thank you! ♥♥♥
Part 1:
Just in case you need a visual of the Jaejoong in my mind.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Professor Jung?”
Yunho hums as he marks another answer wrong on the history test in front of him.
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
Yunho drops his pen and his head snaps up. Well, Jaejoong said it was a personal question. “That is not an appropriate question to ask me.”
“Oh, come on, Professor. It’s just you and me here.”
“Because you’re the only one that is consistently given detention in this school.”
Jaejoong huffs.
“Why are you asking?”
Jaejoong’s cheeks pink, and it’s his turn to look down at the desk.
Yunho stares at him worrying his lower lip that has a hole for a piercing. But the boy says nothing else, and Yunho’s pen scratching on papers fills the room again.
“I just really want to get it over with,” Jaejoong says suddenly.
Yunho is shocked that the boy is a virgin. He’s known as the school rebel, doing all that he can to get into trouble, stay at school for a bit longer so he doesn’t have to go home. There are some days when Jaejoong comes to Yunho’s classroom after school when he isn’t even scheduled for detention.
Jaejoong is still staring at his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. He’s spinning a ring around his finger. He looks up, sees Yunho watching him and then looks down. “I just ... I don’t know. Just fucking get it over with.”
“You’re still young,” Yunho says softly. “You shouldn’t rush it.”
“Did you rush it?” Jaejoong asks.
Yunho thinks about not answering. This is not a conversation he has ever had with a student, and he does not have children of his own. He also knows that there is no one at Jaejoong’s home that he could have this conversation with. No one has exact details of what goes on in the boy’s house, but with a mother who is always working, eight older sisters and a drunkard father, Yunho understands why Jaejoong is talking to him.
Yunho puts his pen down and loosens his tie. He leans back in his chair, arms behind his head, and ponders Jaejoong for a moment. He’s only sixteen, and Yunho bites his lips against telling the boy he should wait, that sex is special, between people who love each other. He isn’t naive, and he knows that Jaejoong isn’t naive.
“Yes, I rushed it. I was sixteen.”
Jaejoong looks at him wide eyed, cheeks still red. He looks away, chewing on his lip again. Yunho has a sudden urge to chew on it for him. Though, he prefers to have the piercing in his lip while he chews on it.
“I rushed it because I was confused,” Yunho continues, figuring the boy deserves the entire story. “I was more attracted to my fellow soccer team members than the girls who came to the games to cheer us on. So I rushed it, trying to figure out what I wanted, and it wasn’t the girl who thought I loved her. I have always regretted hurting her.”
“So you think I should wait?” Jaejoong asks.
Yunho expected some acknowledgment from telling Jaejoong his sexual orientation, but the boy probably already knew. Yunho did not exactly hide it; he just didn’t flaunt it around. “I didn’t say that,” Yunho says. “Just don’t rush it. Don’t fuck for fucking’s sake. You should definitely enjoy it.”
“What if I’m confused, too?” Jaejoong asks quietly.
Yunho is having a hard time with this less than confident version of Jaejoong. The Jaejoong he knows always has his head up, always attacks problems with force, never lets anyone push him around.
“Are you confused?”
Jaejoong looks up and meets his eyes, and there is the spark of rebellion that Yunho is used to seeing.
“No,” Jaejoong says after a moment. “I know exactly who I want.”
The air in the room is suddenly stifling and Yunho swallows roughly. So maybe Jaejoong’s trips to his classroom aren’t just because he doesn’t want to go home.
The boy is beautiful, everyone can see it. His face is round, framed by styled, black hair that is almost too long. Yunho has watched him charm teachers with his big eyes and pouty lips. He has no problem putting dark eyeliner on or smacking lip-glossed lips. There are holes for earrings up both ears, one in his eyebrow and the one in his lip. Yunho has wondered on more than one occasion if there are piercings in other places.
Jaejoong sighs. “Sorry. I know it’s not possible.”
“No,” Yunho says and has to clear his throat. “It’s not possible.”
“Would you?” Jaejoong asks, almost demands.
“That’s a dangerous question.”
“And that isn’t an answer.”
“I could lose my job.”
“If you couldn’t? If you weren’t my teacher?”
Yunho stops breathing. How had this conversation escalated into this? Jaejoong stares at him intently, waiting for his answer, but not answering is answer enough. Because yes, he will bend that boy over and fuck him until they both fall apart if he is able to.
“You are only fifteen. I’m more than twice your age,” Yunho tries.
Jaejoong smirks at him, cheeks still that adorable embarrassed pink. “But you still would.”
“Yes, fuck, there, are you happy?”
Jaejoong bites his lip and whispers. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“No,” Yunho says, shuffling his papers to hide his shaking hands.
“But I won’t!”
“No, Jaejoong, shit. Think about what you’re asking me!”
“I am and I have and I want you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not going to argue in circles with you, young man. No.”
Jaejoong slouches in his chair with his arm crossed.
He is pouting up a storm and Yunho wishes he had super glue to keep him in his chair. But he stands up, walks around his desk and leans against it. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.
“Don’t be upset,” Yunho says quietly, fully aware of the open door. “You’re beautiful, but you’re young. You’ll find--”
Jaejoong’s deep sigh cuts him off, and then he mutters, “I’ll find someone. Yeah. No thanks. Maybe I’ll just go home and have Soonli’s boyfriend fuck me like he keeps hinting at.”
Yunho huffs and crosses his arms to mirror the boy’s stance. “Don’t rush it.”
Jaejoong flips him off and then his head snaps up and he smiles slowly. “It’s because you’re my teacher, and I’m too young.”
Cautiously, Yunho nods.
“So if you weren’t my teacher and I was eighteen, then you would.”
It isn’t a question.
“Jaejoong, eighteen is still young for me. I’m almost forty. I will be forty before you’re eighteen.”
“But you wouldn’t get fired or thrown in prison.”
“No, I wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I’d--”
Jaejoong stands up, biting his lower lip again. “I want you, Professor Jung. But I like you, and you’re a good teacher, so I won’t push, but in two years and four months,” Jaejoong lets that trail off.
Yunho shivers.
“I can wait,” Jaejoong says and heads to the door. “I can wait for you.”
Technically, his detention for cursing in Yoochun’s poetry class isn’t over and that’s the only reason Yunho calls his name.
Jaejoong stops and turns around.
Yunho shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“Not yet.”
“No. I can’t.”
Jaejoong pouts and walks closer to him. “You will. In two years, you’ll want me.”
Yunho doesn’t stop him from stepping into his personal space. Even with him leaning on the desk, Jaejoong still looks up at him.
“It’s not a question of wanting you,” Yunho whispers and wishes the statement back, but it’s too late, and Jaejoong is too close. His smile is blinding, and then soft, vanilla flavored lips are pressed against his. Too quick for Yunho to kiss back, and Jaejoong pulls away and heads to the door again, throwing a “Two years” over his shoulder.
Yunho’s lips are tingling. He buries his face in his hands and curses long and loud enough that the words are echoing in the empty classroom.
---R---U---S---H---
2 years later ...
Jaejoong puts his head to the table with a muttered curse. Calculus questions are rambling around his brain. There is an exam tomorrow that he does not feel prepared for.
“Hyung, calm down,” Changmin says. “This is easy. You got this.”
“You’re one to talk, Mister Genius,” Jaejoong mutters.
Shim Changmin is only sixteen, but in Jaejoong’s class. He skipped a grade in elementary school, and then again last year when Changmin skipped the first year of high school and was put with the second years. He’s still smarter than everyone in their class, and that doesn’t equate to having friends. Jaejoong knew what it was like to feel so alone surrounded by people so they became friends despite their oil/water relationship.
The rest of their friends call them Soul Fighters, because they fight so often and so deeply with their emotions.
Junsu calls them boyfriends.
“Ugh, I hate this shit,” Jaejoong growls.
Changmin chuckles. “Let’s do a few more problems and then we’ll go out and get something to eat.”
Jaejoong nods. “Fine, but after this I am not looking at this book again until I have to. There is such a thing as too much information.”
“Yeah, but too much information is more like me telling you that I jerk off to fisting porn.”
Jaejoong chokes on spit, eyes wide.
His dongsaeng smirks. “What?”
“F-fisting ... people really do that?”
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Yes, oh god, are you seventeen or not? Haven’t you watched porn?”
“Well, not really, but ... I just ... oh god.” Jaejoong holds his stomach and groans.
Changmin laughs. “Oh, god, I wasn’t really sure until now, but hyung, you’re a virgin, huh?”
Jaejoong’s cheeks turn pink and he looks around the library but no one is staring at him, and Changmin isn’t talking that loud. “Shut up, and yes, so what?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you a virgin? I watch girls and guys throw themselves at you, drunk or not. Hell, even Junho, who is very much straight, has been heard saying he’d take you to bed given the chance. Are you saving yourself for someone special?”
Jaejoong feels his cheeks burn, knowing they’re probably bright red by now.
“Oh god, hyung, that is so lame.”
“Shut up,” Jaejoong growls. “So what?”
“Anyone in particular?”
“No, shut up.”
“Not a certain History teacher that you moon over every time you see him the hallway, and walk past his classroom even when there is a shorter route to your next class?”
“Shut up!” Jaejoong growls.
The librarian shushes them.
Changmin chuckles. “At least you have good taste. Professor Jung is hot. Too bad he has a boyfriend.”
Jaejoong head shoots up from the table. “What?”
Changmin clears his throat. “You didn’t know?”
“No. What do you mean?”
“At the last dance, you didn’t see him?”
“I didn’t go to the last dance,” Jaejoong says, chest tightening. He wanted to go, but his sister ... He pushes away the image of her overdosed-drugged up body hooked up to hospital machines.
“Oh. He was a chaperone and brought a date, and you should have seen them dance together. He can still move for an old guy.”
“Forty-one is not old,” Jaejoong says and gathers up his things.
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Fuck off.” Jaejoong hefts his bag over his shoulder and leaves the library. His feet stomp through the well-known hallways, the only place he has ever considered home for the last three years. He can feel the sting of tears behind his eyes and that makes him angrier. He’s crying? Over this? Only his family gets his tears. Not some, frustrating, annoying, betraying high school history teacher.
Betraying?
He never made you any promises.
Jaejoong growls at himself. He turns a corner and can see Professor Jung sitting at his desk. There are three students in the room with him, serving detention. He doesn’t care. He stalks into the room and then stops.
Professor Jung looks up, and then smiles. “Hi, Jaejoong-ah.”
“Fuck you,” Jaejoong snaps even as his heart flutters, because he is the only student that Professor Jung talks with so casually.
The three students all inhale sharply.
“Watch your tone, young man,” Professor Jung says calmly.
“Fuck you. I’m going to keep cursing at you until you give me detention right now.”
Professor Jung chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You don’t ever need to have detention to come sit in my classroom after school. Why change that? Have a seat.”
Jaejoong sits in the front row and crosses his arms and glares. He notices in his anger that Professor Jung looks at his arms. In the library, he rolled up his shirt sleeves, and he absently remembers that he left his school jacket there. Good, let him look. Jaejoong has been in the gym before and after school trying to catch up to Junho and Junsu in the muscles department. He says nothing else and glares at his teacher.
His favorite teacher.
Jaejoong swallows the growing lump in his throat. After that single kiss so long ago, Jaejoong has done nothing but follow Professor Jung’s advice. He still gets into fights, because people think he’s pretty so therefore weak. And he has to protect his mom. He still smokes and curses and drinks. But he does his school work, he’s applying to colleges, and he’s waiting.
He isn’t rushing it.
No matter how many people have offered. Or tried to force him.
The standard two-hour detention block is almost over. Jaejoong does not take his eyes from his professor, and Professor Jung keeps his eyes on his grading. Jaejoong hasn’t taken another class with him, needing only one year of Korean history, but that hasn’t stopped him from coming into his class after school to talk to him. Or sit here for two hours when he has detention. Professor Jung has never brought up the kiss nor has he changed the way he treats Jaejoong.
Part of Jaejoong is grateful, the other part confused. Professor Jung said that he wanted Jaejoong, but he certainly never acts like it. Jaejoong definitely wants him, even more so than when he was fifteen. Professor Jung has gotten even hotter in the last two years. Sure, he still dresses like a geek with ugly brown tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, but his body still fills those jackets out perfectly, and it’s a little hard not to notice how well-built Professor Jung is. His dark brown hair is slightly gray at his temples, something that could easily be dyed away, but Jaejoong is glad he doesn’t. The lines around his eyes and mouth show that even with the stress of being a teacher, the man spends a lot of time laughing and smiling.
With his boyfriend.
Jaejoong’s throat closes against a noise, but not fast enough and Professor Jung looks up, concerned.
Jaejoong bites his lip and looks away.
The timer on Professor Jung’s desk beeps, and the other three students gather their books. They shoot looks at both Jaejoong who hasn’t moved and Professor Jung. Their teacher/student friendship is well known, and Jaejoong has heard enough rumors about there being more between them that it has worried him. He went to principal one day, just to assure him that Professor Jung is nothing more than a mentor, since Jaejoong is sorely lacking in mentors at his own home.
The principal understood then. He probably wouldn’t have if Professor Jung really was fucking him.
Just a few more months. Just a few more.
“Well,” Professor Jung says. “What do you want?”
Jaejoong looks up. “You know what I want,” he snaps before he can stop himself. It is the very first time he has mentioned it since that day almost two years ago.
Professor Jung takes a really deep breath. “Yes, but I meant today, barging in here when you don’t have to be here. Don’t you have a Calculus test tomorrow?”
Jaejoong’s heart flutters, because Professor Jung remembers and knows his schedule. But then it contracts again because of why he’s there.
“You have a boyfriend.”
Professor Jung sighs again and nods.
“I can’t believe you have a boyfriend,” Jaejoong almost shouts.
“Jaejoong-ah,” he tries.
But Jaejoong cuts him off. “Since the last dance, before that, how long?”
“I don’t have to answer to you, young man.”
“You can’t!” Jaejoong demands, rising from his seat.
Professor Jung levels him with a look and Jaejoong sinks back to his seat with his arms crossed, cursing himself. He’s acting like a ... like a ... like an immature, petulant teenager. He puts his head on his desk. The stress from his looming test, his sisters’ choices, his mother’s health, and now this new, painful realization that maybe Professor Jung doesn’t want him, leaves his eyes stinging. Again.
“Jaejoong-ah,” Professor Jung whispers, “I told you. You’re way too young for me, even if you are almost eighteen.”
“It’s not fair,” Jaejoong says, voice choked. He lifts his head, resting his chin on the desk. “You can’t. You ... you ... you just can’t.”
Professor Jung meets his eyes. His mouth is turned down in concern, and Jaejoong knows he’s about to cry. He fucking hates crying.
“His name is Donghae, and he’s my age, and I’ve been dating him for almost a year.”
Jaejoong bites his lip against a wail. God, he does not want to cry in front of Professor Jung. He pushes the chair back, stands up and grabs his bag. “Four months, graduation is in four months.”
“Jaejoong-ah,” Yunho tries again.
Jaejoong shakes his head, long tresses catching on his wet eyelashes. He huffs in frustration and pushes his hair off his forehead. “Four months, and I still want it to be you.” Jaejoong swallows the lump in his throat. His cheeks go pink, but the tears don’t fall. “I want you to kiss me and touch me and be the first person to press inside me and make me come.”
Professor Jung swallows harshly.
With a bitter smile, Jaejoong adds, “I’m so fucking angry right now, but ... I can wait four more months. And if you’re still with Donghae, then ... well, someone else will fuck me. I hear that Kim Junho is willing to go gay for me, so I have options.”
Jaejoong can’t look at him anymore, can’t stand the pity in his eyes, or maybe it’s regret. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to see it. He turns away and stalks out of the room, tears finally falling when Professor Jung doesn’t call him back.
Part 2: Under My Skin
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