post #8
TL;DR RULES
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use trigger warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use trigger warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
Lu Han is Jongin’s private Chinese tutor, still an undergraduate student, trying to pay for the absurdly high expenses he refuses his parents cover; Jongin is in his last year of high school, desperate to garner the romantic interest of his Chinese tutor (and to pass his university entrance exams, of course).
“Like best friends?” Lu Han asks, dotting ‘best friends’ in Chinese on Jongin’s notebook. Jongin is about to reply, “No, like mega super best friends who fuck each other in the ass,” when Lu Han hits him with the most earnest expression; Jongin is wrought speechless.
Lu Han smiles, pats Jongin on the back and says, “Done deal! Best friends from now on, although you’ll have to share that title with a few others. Hope you don’t mind.”
Jongin gives a weak smile in response, hoping next time would fare more romantically.
*
Next time comes a week later. Jongin bounds into the library with a bouquet of roses and a card that definitely and clearly says, “I love you! Please go out with me.” He wrote it in Chinese and added a Korean translation in tiny letters at the bottom. The birds were chirping, the sun was out on a cold winter’s day; there was no way anything could go wrong.
Obviously, Jongin is mistaken.
Lu Han greets Jongin with a wave, glancing at the bouquet and says nothing. Not even when Jongin slams the bouquet down before Lu Han. Lu Han courteously edges it away from his notebook.
At the end of the lesson, Jongin says, “These flowers-”
Just a polite smile, and Jongin is unfortunately both disappointed and swooning.
“They’re for your girlfriend, right?” Lu Han finishes for Jongin. “I’m sure she’d appreciate them. They look lovely.”
“No!” Jongin wants to scream, but ends up burying his frustration, along with the bouquet and card, in a rubbish bin on his way out of the library.
*
Third time lucky is what they always say, so Jongin gambles his pride on his third and hopefully last attempt at wooing Lu Han. Jongin calls Lu Han and, punctuating with the occasional cough, says, “I’m sick, but I still want to revise for next week’s test. Could you come over?”
“Of course,” Lu Han replies, and he arrives within the hour, lugging a huge textbook and dictionary.
In retrospect, Jongin shouldn’t have followed Sehun’s advice considering all the wisdom Sehun had derived from was seedy pornos. But, Jongin, desperate like a kid in love, greets Lu Han in all his naked glory and says, “Hey, I really like you.”
Lu Han drops the plastic bag with the textbook and dictionary, takes a breath to gather himself and replies, “Kim Jongin, I am your Chinese tutor, not your sex tutor, so put some clothes on before your neighbours report you for public indecency.”
Jongin hurries to his room. He was not abject at being rejected countless times, nor was he embarrassed by the turn of events.
Haha, who is he kidding? Jongin, after putting on his pyjamas, buries himself under his bed sheets and thinks of how he could’ve recited Shakespeare or sung Bruno Mars - anything but what Sehun had suggested.
“Hey, Jongin,” Lu Han calls, voice tentative. “You okay?”
Jongin does not reply.
“If it makes you feel better, I like you too.”
Strangely, Jongin does not feel anything. No rushing tsunami of emotion. No fiery eruption of passion. Nothing. He sits up, and asks, “Are you mocking me now?”
Lu Han purses his lips. He shakes his head. “When you confess to someone, normally you take them by the hand,” Lu Han begins, taking Jongin’s hand in his. “And you tell them why you like them. You don’t need to give cryptic messages or gifts or your body to tell someone your sincere feelings. Your words should be enough.”
Lu Han smiles, and Jongin understands, once more, why he liked Lu Han in the first place.
But, this time, Lu Han is the one confessing.
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