You and I (1/2 - High School AU oneshot)
Title: You and I (1/2)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): JoonHo
Summary: He wonders if they'll have a future
A/N: LITERALLY. I HAVE CHIPPED AWAY AT THIS FOR LIKE THREE MONTHS. And now it's finally done T^T at three in the morning so now I am like dead and it's gianormous and I have to split it into two parts so yeah. I am done. And, so explanations: Okay, so, the epilogue of WFLT will fill in the blanks of like how they met again and so on, and this is like life after that along with a lot of parts that'll be IN the main story but probably told from like Seungho's, Jun's, Jjong's, Doo's POV, etc., so this is a chance to see it ALL from Joon's POV because soon I'll be writing more in Seungho's in the actual WFLT.
Part 1 // Part 2
Joon doesn’t have any illusions about this.
Contrary to what everyone (except maybe Jonghyun) thinks, Joon doesn’t think of this as a fantasy that’s come true-doesn’t think of this as a potential fairy tale. He doesn’t have any illusions about what this is, isn’t delusional of what it’s going to become-how it might or might not end. He looks at all of this exactly the way it is and accepts it for what it is right now-and all that it can be right now. It can’t be much, so Joon just takes it for what it is.
And what it is isn’t much-it’s hours upon hours of waiting after school and then one or two hours in dark, obscure classrooms once most everyone, students and teachers and cleaning staff, have left the building and gone home. It’s weekends here and there and sometimes weeknights, if he’s lucky, taking their driver’s car and driving himself up to Seungho’s apartment. It’s minimizing contact at school, in public-in the hallways, at practice, in class-even though Joon wants nothing more than to maximize contact wherever they are because he feels like he never gets to see Seungho, never gets to touch Seungho.
It’s not much and what it is comes painful and risky and difficult.
But he doesn’t care.
The whispered secrets as I look at the clock
It’s painful.
It’s painful because Seungho’s just shoved Joon onto the floor because the older man rolled off of the sofa as well, which means that both of them end up in a tangle of limbs on the floor with the papers Seungho needs to give to his secretary tomorrow surrounding them (out of order and not in the binder they’re supposed to be), Joon’s lesson plans for his class mixed together with those papers, alongside Joon’s now-terribly-creased forms that he has to give to his sister for the company meeting.
They’re all in one big heap and now they have to be sorted out.
All over again.
For the record, it’s half past midnight and they both need to leave the house by six-not yet factoring in the hour it takes to get Seungho’s eyes even half open. Also not factoring how they need to have at least two hours of sex before they fall asleep.
“For the record,” Seungho says, purposefully pressing his legs down over Joon’s (the younger man cries out in pain and futilely punches the older man in the knee except Seungho doesn’t really feel pain because Joon knows Seungho is superhuman and infuriating), “I can just bullshit my secretary. But you need those lesson plans, right?”
Joon merely looks at him sullenly. “I hate you, hyung.”
Seungho kisses him.
It’s okay if I’m hurt
On a good day, Joon manages to escape Junhyung’s stares, avoid Junhyung altogether, and make it into Seungho’s classroom without running into too many other people. On a good day, he gets around the school without seeing Byunghee talking to Seungho and making it harder for Joon to be alone with the teacher. On a good day, Joon can lock the classroom door once the hallway lights have been turned off because all the janitors have gone home, and he’ll be able to corner Seungho against the chalkboard.
Just one kiss.
He knows it’s stupid that he only feels like kissing someone as attractive as Seungho once (something brief, barely lasting more than a few seconds) and then spends the next three hours talking-just talking, laughing, (getting hit and shoved all around the classroom) messing around on the computer, writing and drawing nothing and everything on the chalkboard, talking about books and track.
It’s stupid but that’s what he does while they’re at school because there’s always time for them to have sex whenever Joon goes to Seungho’s apartment. There’s always a risk if it happens at school and Joon doesn’t want to put that onto Seungho. And-really-Joon just wants to talk. It’s stupid and he wonders if Seungho thinks so too but just never says it-how Joon would much rather sit beside Seungho on the edge of the desk, maybe holding hands and maybe not, talking about who got the best time for the track race last night on the sports channel.
The more I’m pushed, the better
Joon frowns-pokes the other man’s arm. “Hyung,” he says.
Seungho mumbles something terribly incoherent into his pillow.
“Wait-what?” Joon asks. “Hyung,” he repeats, “Seungho-hyung.”
The principal turns his head just enough for one, barely open eye to glare at Joon through the darkness. “What,” Seungho says-so flatly that Joon doesn’t believe he feels a question mark there. “I’m trying to fucking sleep, Changsun-ah.”
Joon’s eyebrows knit together. “I want to tell you about something noona said when I turned in the forms to the company. And about how class went. I think these two girls in my second period class are-like-dating each other or something because I assigned them this-like-”
“Fuck,” Seungho moans into his pillow. “We just had sex-aren’t you tired or something? Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”
The younger man blinks. “That’s your problem,” Joon says after a moment of pause. “You’re the one who wanted to fuck me. I offered to top tonight, but you were all like I feel like being a manly man tonight who has to do all the work when you could’ve just let me-”
Seungho jolts up into a sitting position, blanket falling off of his naked body as his eyes widen at Joon. “The fuck you offered,” he says, squinting. “You didn’t fucking offer anything-you fucking hopped into bed, naked and face down-and fucking threw the condom in my face-how is that fucking offering?”
Joon stares-blinks a few more times. Pauses. “You need to learn how to say no,” he concludes.
The older man stares back for half a second, mouth open, before he slips back beneath the blanket, turns around and slams his head down onto the pillow resolutely. “We have a fucking staff meeting in the morning tomorrow,” Seungho says, back facing Joon. “You’re in charge of bringing the coffee.”
Joon runs the backs of his fingers lightly along Seungho’s cheek. “Can I get one of my lesbian students to do it? She’s always at school early because she’s on the swim team anyway.”
“Stop abusing your students.” Seungho kicks at the younger man beneath the blankets.
Joon snorts. “Like you’re allowed to say that, seonsangnim.” He’s about to reach over to flick off the light on his nightstand and slip down underneath the sheets when Seungho suddenly turns back around, a wide grin on his face. The smile inevitably (easily) spreads across Joon’s own lips as he instinctively leans down and kisses that grin-those full lips.
“Fuck are you talking about?” Seungho says lightly (playfully) as Joon dips down into the sheets, arms wrapping around the older man’s waist. “I was amazing to my students.”
Joon grins into Seungho’s hair. “I’ll take your word for it.”
The times that I first peeped at
He tries not to think about the future, whenever he can.
There’s no way to win if he thinks about the future too much because all he sees is some kind of separation when he goes off to university and Seungho goes off for bigger and better in his career (because Seungho loves teaching and Joon knows that and Joon wants Seungho to become something bigger and better). He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to give up what he hopes for.
Being with Seungho-with an adult-with someone who’s years older than him as opposed to just a few months (and Joon is always the hyung anyway-always surrounded by dongsaengs), makes Joon hyperaware of everything he does. How every single thing might be construed this way or that way-if it’s mature or immature, if it’s wise or unwise. And he knows that what he’s hoping for right now is both immature and unwise.
But he can’t help it.
He can’t help feel that it’s really going to happen, as he lies across Seungho’s lap on an unusually warm and sunny day (but they have to stay inside-have to stay cooped up in Seungho’s apartment because how can they go anywhere else? Someone could see them together), with the older man running fingers through Joon’s hair while they talk about new plans for the track schedule this week.
Joon thinks, feels, (even though he knows it’s stupid and unlikely) that Seungho and he will end up together. Somehow-someday-it might take time and he knows they’ll separate because they both have to aim for things that are bigger and better-but somehow and someday, he feels like they’ll find each other again.
Yeah.
Stupid, right?
I like you
Some things have improved and some things haven’t.
Seungho is the principal so there’s a certain amount of authority he has above the other teachers. Joon is a teacher whose older sister runs the company (that he co-runs because she refuses to run it by herself-too much work, she says, and unfair that they’re both their parents’ children and he can get off scot-free just because he wants to work with snotty adolescents and a hot principal boyfriend) that owns the board for the school.
Most of their co-workers don’t judge, but there are some who do and Joon and Seungho still have to be careful. They can be close to each other, but work is still work and Korea is still Korea. They keep it on the backburner as best they can, and it’s not hard because they live together-they see each other every day and every night and all afternoon, so it’s not especially hard to stave off each other’s company for just a few hours here and there.
But-
Oddly enough-
Even though most of their co-workers don’t judge because most of their colleagues are at unawares, the ones who do seem to know a little something here and something there seem to be Joon’s own students. He has no idea how they know, and he has no idea to what extent they know. All he knows is that whatever they do know, they have no problems with. The boys just give appraising looks (sometimes grins) whenever Seungho drops by, whenever they catch Joon and Seungho’s hands brushing together when they pass each other by. The girls are more obvious-bigger smiles and outright staring, sometimes outright questions, whenever Joon and Seungho are a little too near each other for a little too long.
Most of the time, Joon thinks that they all just like it because it gives them more ammo to use against him.
“So you were fucking him, weren’t you?” the girl in the front row asks sullenly. “And that’s why you still haven’t graded our essays?”
“I-just-you just finished those-so-haven’t had time-shut up before I give you detention,” Joon says, waving his lesson book in her face as the boy beside her laughs (the entire class is grinning).
(And-okay-so maybe Joon is smiling a little too)
If I ask you, you like me too
It’s not often, but it does happen.
It’s actually terribly rare and Joon doesn’t like thinking about how rare it is for it to happen because he doesn’t like thinking about things like that-there’s no point in making himself miserable when he needs all the willpower that he can muster. It’s awfully rare for Seungho to be the one initiating anything. It’ll always be Joon who’s wrapping his arms around the teacher’s waist, linking their fingers, tilting his head in to kiss Seungho, pulling Seungho to the side once everyone’s left-
It’s almost always Joon-it’s almost never Seungho.
Almost.
Because sometimes, very rarely-but still sometimes-it is.
Sometimes Seungho does.
Once in a while-like right now, right at this moment here in the weight room after Byunghee and Cheolyong and Sanghyun have all left-Seungho will be the one to start. He’ll be the one to take the first steps exactly the way he’s doing right now, lacing his fingers with the third year’s, pressing their bodies together-pressing their lips together. It doesn’t happen very often at all, but Joon doesn’t mind being the one to nearly always begin everything because the few times that Seungho takes the reins, it’s all worth it.
Because even if it’s few, even if it’s little, even if it’s almost never, if Seungho bothers to be the one to kiss Joon first, to touch Joon first, then at least Joon knows that somehow Seungho does care (Seungho does feel something for Joon-isn’t just in this to go along with things-that maybe Seungho is investing as much in this as Joon is).
“You’re all sweaty and shit,” Seungho murmurs, lips still lingering against Joon’s. “Go take a shower.”
Joon steps back slightly, hands slipping out of Seungho’s and up to grip at the sides of the teacher’s waistband. “I’m going to sweaty even more in a few minutes,” Joon says, “I’ll shower at home.”
Seungho smiles playfully, and tugs Joon’s shirt upward and off of the third year’s head in one pull. “True,” he says, right before he leans in to kiss the student again.
What’s my name?
He still goes by Joon.
He’s never had any thought to stop going by Joon because what would be the point? Regardless of the origins (regardless of how he refuses to tell the story of how he couldn’t pronounce his own name when he first started school and Jonghyun had to make up a nickname for him to be able to pronounce), he doesn’t see nor feel the need to suddenly change the way people have known and called him for years upon years now. When he’s meeting and greeting people at the company on the occasional day that his sister needs him there with her, or when he’s introducing himself to a new class at school or new staff members, it’s always Lee Joon.
If they find out what his real name is later, then that’s fine too, but he tells them that it’s Lee Joon and they accept that it’s Lee Joon because he won’t respond to anything else.
Other than his parents and his sister, there’s only one other person he’ll respond to calling him by his real name (because, after a while, even Byunghee has gotten used to Lee Joon after being around so many other people constantly referring to him as that rather than his real name).
But yeah-
Lee Changsun is special and Joon only lets one other person aside from his family call him by his real name. It’s just something that’s always been, and as far as Joon is concerned, it’s something that’ll always be.
I’m afraid that my heart
“My English,” Joon says, offended, “is spectacular. My English has the clarity of-”
“Your English is enough to make sure you have something to eat, somewhere to stay, and somewhere to piss,” Seungho says coolly without looking up from his laptop. They sit side-by-side in bed, shirtless and sweaty and still a little bit flushed but with breaths calmed and evened out for the most part. The clock on Joon’s nightstand reads sometime past midnight, which is early considering that tomorrow is Saturday and Joon has no company appointments for the weekend.
In his personal opinion, they should’ve finished watching the movie before having sex because it’s not like they need to wake up early tomorrow morning. Because now Joon will have to go through scene selection and find his place again since obviously he didn’t have time to pause the movie before Seungho took both of their pants off.
“What else do I need?” Joon asks, confused. “I know how to ask for alcohol too-”
Seungho laughs, glancing over and grinning. “Perfect, then,” he says, a tiny smile on his full lips as he continues typing. “We’re all set.”
“So you’re going?” Joon says, sliding in closer until their thighs are touching. He slips his hand over one of Seungho’s, and Seungho stops typing-the older man turns his hand around and their fingers thread together.
“Only for a week,” Seungho responds, shrugging. “Like, it’s this series of sessions that, if everything works out right, will-like-tell me some stuff about getting some our students into a foreign exchange program in the states. We’ll send some third years who take English over there and they’ll send some kids who take Korean over here. And most of your students take English, so I’ll probably need you to recommend some of your third years for it if it works out.”
Joon nods slowly, gazing at their intertwined hands-lying on top of the white blanket. “Noona’s finally got the branch in the U.S. setting off,” he says quietly.
“Oh, really?” Seungho says, blinking. “That’s good.”
The younger man turns his head-meets Seungho’s eyes.
Will be revealed in between my hands
Joon doesn’t like talking to Junhyung these days-tries to avoid it as best he can, and he knows that Junhyung doesn’t really like talking to Joon these days anyway either. Junhyung also has his own problems to deal with, ferrying between Hyunseung and university applications and dealing with the new first and second year members on the soccer team (who are reportedly exceptionally talented little demons that make Doojoon waste Yoseob’s French-cake-money on aspirin).
But it’s not like they never see each other and whenever they do, Joon feels every single wave of disapproval radiating from Junhyung. It’s something that Joon knows Junhyung hides as best he can from Seungho, but Seungho feels it too (only towards Seungho, they turn into waves of concern and worry and fear). Both Seungho and Joon feel it, but they never say anything to Junhyung and Junhyung never says anything to them.
Joon is too scared to say anything to Seungho, but Seungho is never too scared to say anything to Joon.
The teacher says during one of the times that Joon is over at Seungho’s apartment-Saturday morning-while Joon is lying across Seungho’s lap in the middle of the living room. “If you don’t like feeling fucked up,” Seungho says quietly, “then we can call it quits whenever you want.” He looks down at Joon and the third year feels like every single passing second that their gazes are connected makes Joon’s body smolder in white hot pain. “I’ll keep going if you do, but if you’re going to keep going-you can’t give a shit about what anyone thinks.”
Joon reaches up-palm against Seungho’s cheek.
“Not even what Junhyungie thinks,” Seungho says. “I had to stop giving a shit so you do too.”
My heart is overwhelmed
These days, Joon likes talking to Junhyung better than Jonghyun and Doojoon.
“Why,” Junhyung says, so flatly that it doesn’t sound like the question it’s probably supposed to be. “Why can’t you just take them? Like-Doojoonie is better at this kind of shit-I can’t believe I even had to-”
“Doojoonie would laugh,” Joon says, frowning. “And I’d never get anything done.” He ducks his head a little bit through the doorway that leads to the staff area, wondering if there are any employees that are getting ready to circle the floor again because Joon’s found another mold that he likes.
Junhyung sighs, flipping through another book of cut selections. “I mean-he’d laugh for like the first twenty minutes, but then he’d get over himself and get you better-looking rings than I will. He was the one who got me the rings for me and Hyunseungie, you know. I couldn’t pick rings like that by myself for fuck.”
Joon whirls around, staring. “What-wait-really?”
“Yes, really,” Junhyung says. “So can I go home now and you can bring Doojoon?”
“I don’t have time to come again,” Joon whines, “I have to put in the orders now because I have to get them by next month.”
Junhyung folds his arms, leaning back on the counter while Joon searches for an employee again. “Why’re you doing this all of a sudden anyway?” the younger man asks. “I mean-not that you guys aren’t like ready or crap-but-I mean-it’s so random.”
“I think,” Joon says, meeting Junhyung’s eyes with an odd smile, “that he’s going to get promoted to go to the states. Like-to teach Korean literature at some university there. And noona’s revving up the branch that we have in the states and my dad’s been talking to me about maybe camping it out there for a while to oversee and stuff and-I mean-I don’t know. If we moved there together then-”
“Then you guys could get married over there, and stay there,” Junhyung says, suddenly reflecting Joon’s odd smile.
Joon redirects his gaze (his smile) to the display of rings behind the glass cases. “That’s the plan,” he says. “I just hope he says yes.”
Please wait a bit more for me
It’s as old and wooden and fragile as he’d remembered when he’d bought it from the antique shop, and wrapped it up just a few months ago. He holds it in one hand after taking it off of the shelf in Seungho’s room. The third year turns it around and around in his hand, fingers caressing the delicate hour hand and then the minute hand. Obviously, it doesn’t work-it’s too old to work-but it’s still stable enough that Joon can push the hour and minute hands to display different times even if the clock can’t tell time by itself.
He wonders why he even gave it to Seungho as a Christmas present-it feels like so long ago even though it was really only two months ago. Joon wonders why this ancient clock, of all things, reminded him of Seungho. He does remember using the reasoning that at that time in the school year, Seungho had been teaching the first years Western literature and this was a Western clock, somewhere during the era where Seungho was taking novels out from.
But a part of Joon, right now as he holds the clock and waits for Seungho to come back with lunch, wishes that he’d given Seungho something different. This clock makes the third year uncomfortable for reasons he can’t explain.
I want to push on the clock even more
“Hyung,” Joon says, trying as hard as he can not to sound frustrated because if he sounds frustrated then Seungho will laugh at him, “can you please put that fucking clock on a fucking different shelf because this shelf already has too much crap on it so when I dust it, I have to take every single one of the things off and the clock is about to like fall apart and if it does, you’re going to yell at me, but now I can’t dust-”
Seungho squints from where the older man sits on the sofa beside the living room window, scrolling through something on his iPad. “Since when do you dust? Fuck-since when do you clean?”
“Since last week when Byunghee-hyung came over and told me that he’s not even allergic to anything, but being in our apartment made him break out in a bulbous rash,” Joon says.
“You know that he was just fucking with you, right?”
Joon opens his mouth.
Seungho raises his eyebrows.
Joon turns his eyes back at the clock. “I fucking hate this thing,” he says. “I should get you a new clock-one that just looks all old and moldy but isn’t actually so that way I don’t have to be terrified of breaking it when I dust.”
“Oh my God,” Seungho says, “just fucking stop dusting. I’ll punch Byunghee’s face next time he comes over if that makes you feel better-and leave my fucking clock alone.”
Joon stuffs the duster into the umbrella rack nearby. “Don’t break his nose, though, okay?” He steps towards where the other man sits, sliding one leg in between Seungho’s and standing close into the older man’s legs. Their eyes meet and Seungho laughs, fingers sliding inside of the waistband of Joon’s sweatpants, thumbs pressing into Joon’s hipbones.
“How come?” Seungho asks.
“I mean,” Joon shrugs, using his fingertips to move a few strands of Seungho’s hair this way and that way. “I don’t want him to punch me back.”
Seungho pats Joon’s ass in understanding. “It’s okay,” he says, “I’ll knock him out so he won’t get his nose broken and so he can’t punch you back. Better?”
Joon grins as Seungho’s hands start dancing up the younger man’s shirt.
In the future, which you will be in
Sometimes Joon wonders if Seungho has any idea how much Joon actually wishes they could stay together forever. Whenever they talk about the future-Joon’s future, in particular-Seungho always mentions university, running the company, moving, going off and away, graduation, degrees, falling in love, getting married (one way or the other). Seungho never mentions anything about the possibility that maybe, after Joon’s gotten settled into university and all those things, that they could still be together.
The way Seungho talks about the future scares Joon-terrifies Joon. Because even though Joon has no delusions about any of this-knows that they most likely won’t end up together, he’s still terrified about the fact that he might fall out of love with Seungho one day and fall in love with someone else. It’s supposed to be comforting according to Seungho-it’s supposed to be ideal because when you’re young, according to Seungho, you get hurt often and fast but you heal just as fast and often.
Except Joon doesn’t think so.
He doesn’t believe that and doesn’t want to.
He’d rather hurt forever and ever and ever over Seungho than fall out of love with him and in love with someone new. Joon wants to love Seungho-loves loving Seungho, and just wishes, with every fiber of his being (regardless of how pathetic it may be) that Seungho would realize that. He wishes Seungho would at least acknowledge, even if only halfheartedly, exactly how much Joon intends to invest in this relationship-intends to put in.
Despite knowing how hard it is for Seungho to be able to believe and trust even this much because of everything the teacher’s been through, Joon wishes that Seungho would just push himself that much further and believe in Joon that much more. He hates being told that he’ll get over Seungho one day and find someone better-someone who he can have a more suitable relationship with, someone who’s closer to his age, someone who’ll love him better, someone-someone-someone, except Joon doesn’t want anyone else.
It’s childish.
He knows it’s childish.
He knows that thinking like this makes him just as immature and ridiculous and dumb and stupid and childish-exactly the way Seungho probably thinks of him and exactly the way Joon has been trying this entire time not to be.
But he just can’t help it.
(He doesn’t want to love anyone else-ever)
In the blink of an eye
It’s not that Joon dislikes the idea of coming back to Korea the way Junhyung and Hyunseung, Doojoon and Yoseob, all did after their respective out-of-country weddings. It works fine for the other four and Joon can see that and it’s not that he’s rejecting that idea. If that’s what Seungho wants even, then Joon will go along with it because he doesn’t hate that option. Joon-he supposes-that-he’s had enough to do with being in something forbidden and frowned upon.
Everything he’s had with Seungho from the very beginning was frowned upon and forbidden in every way possible-from gender to age to status to position. And now that they have a chance not to be-to at least be able to walk the streets without worrying so much, because while Korea’s improved since when Joon was in high school, America has improved beyond that and if they have a chance to be there-to go there-then Joon wants to.
He’ll miss teaching, but leading the new branch of their company isn’t too terrible of a second choice. And Joon knows-wants-Seungho to go because Seungho is amazing and brilliant and Joon doesn’t just want Seungho to be teaching high school forever. If a university in the states wants Seungho, then Joon is going to make sure that university gets Seungho.
The ring and the ceremony and the vows and the certificates are just ribbons to tie everything together.
I’ll be an adult
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): JoonHo
Summary: He wonders if they'll have a future
A/N: LITERALLY. I HAVE CHIPPED AWAY AT THIS FOR LIKE THREE MONTHS. And now it's finally done T^T at three in the morning so now I am like dead and it's gianormous and I have to split it into two parts so yeah. I am done. And, so explanations: Okay, so, the epilogue of WFLT will fill in the blanks of like how they met again and so on, and this is like life after that along with a lot of parts that'll be IN the main story but probably told from like Seungho's, Jun's, Jjong's, Doo's POV, etc., so this is a chance to see it ALL from Joon's POV because soon I'll be writing more in Seungho's in the actual WFLT.
Part 1 // Part 2
Joon doesn’t have any illusions about this.
Contrary to what everyone (except maybe Jonghyun) thinks, Joon doesn’t think of this as a fantasy that’s come true-doesn’t think of this as a potential fairy tale. He doesn’t have any illusions about what this is, isn’t delusional of what it’s going to become-how it might or might not end. He looks at all of this exactly the way it is and accepts it for what it is right now-and all that it can be right now. It can’t be much, so Joon just takes it for what it is.
And what it is isn’t much-it’s hours upon hours of waiting after school and then one or two hours in dark, obscure classrooms once most everyone, students and teachers and cleaning staff, have left the building and gone home. It’s weekends here and there and sometimes weeknights, if he’s lucky, taking their driver’s car and driving himself up to Seungho’s apartment. It’s minimizing contact at school, in public-in the hallways, at practice, in class-even though Joon wants nothing more than to maximize contact wherever they are because he feels like he never gets to see Seungho, never gets to touch Seungho.
It’s not much and what it is comes painful and risky and difficult.
But he doesn’t care.
The whispered secrets as I look at the clock
It’s painful.
It’s painful because Seungho’s just shoved Joon onto the floor because the older man rolled off of the sofa as well, which means that both of them end up in a tangle of limbs on the floor with the papers Seungho needs to give to his secretary tomorrow surrounding them (out of order and not in the binder they’re supposed to be), Joon’s lesson plans for his class mixed together with those papers, alongside Joon’s now-terribly-creased forms that he has to give to his sister for the company meeting.
They’re all in one big heap and now they have to be sorted out.
All over again.
For the record, it’s half past midnight and they both need to leave the house by six-not yet factoring in the hour it takes to get Seungho’s eyes even half open. Also not factoring how they need to have at least two hours of sex before they fall asleep.
“For the record,” Seungho says, purposefully pressing his legs down over Joon’s (the younger man cries out in pain and futilely punches the older man in the knee except Seungho doesn’t really feel pain because Joon knows Seungho is superhuman and infuriating), “I can just bullshit my secretary. But you need those lesson plans, right?”
Joon merely looks at him sullenly. “I hate you, hyung.”
Seungho kisses him.
It’s okay if I’m hurt
On a good day, Joon manages to escape Junhyung’s stares, avoid Junhyung altogether, and make it into Seungho’s classroom without running into too many other people. On a good day, he gets around the school without seeing Byunghee talking to Seungho and making it harder for Joon to be alone with the teacher. On a good day, Joon can lock the classroom door once the hallway lights have been turned off because all the janitors have gone home, and he’ll be able to corner Seungho against the chalkboard.
Just one kiss.
He knows it’s stupid that he only feels like kissing someone as attractive as Seungho once (something brief, barely lasting more than a few seconds) and then spends the next three hours talking-just talking, laughing, (getting hit and shoved all around the classroom) messing around on the computer, writing and drawing nothing and everything on the chalkboard, talking about books and track.
It’s stupid but that’s what he does while they’re at school because there’s always time for them to have sex whenever Joon goes to Seungho’s apartment. There’s always a risk if it happens at school and Joon doesn’t want to put that onto Seungho. And-really-Joon just wants to talk. It’s stupid and he wonders if Seungho thinks so too but just never says it-how Joon would much rather sit beside Seungho on the edge of the desk, maybe holding hands and maybe not, talking about who got the best time for the track race last night on the sports channel.
The more I’m pushed, the better
Joon frowns-pokes the other man’s arm. “Hyung,” he says.
Seungho mumbles something terribly incoherent into his pillow.
“Wait-what?” Joon asks. “Hyung,” he repeats, “Seungho-hyung.”
The principal turns his head just enough for one, barely open eye to glare at Joon through the darkness. “What,” Seungho says-so flatly that Joon doesn’t believe he feels a question mark there. “I’m trying to fucking sleep, Changsun-ah.”
Joon’s eyebrows knit together. “I want to tell you about something noona said when I turned in the forms to the company. And about how class went. I think these two girls in my second period class are-like-dating each other or something because I assigned them this-like-”
“Fuck,” Seungho moans into his pillow. “We just had sex-aren’t you tired or something? Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”
The younger man blinks. “That’s your problem,” Joon says after a moment of pause. “You’re the one who wanted to fuck me. I offered to top tonight, but you were all like I feel like being a manly man tonight who has to do all the work when you could’ve just let me-”
Seungho jolts up into a sitting position, blanket falling off of his naked body as his eyes widen at Joon. “The fuck you offered,” he says, squinting. “You didn’t fucking offer anything-you fucking hopped into bed, naked and face down-and fucking threw the condom in my face-how is that fucking offering?”
Joon stares-blinks a few more times. Pauses. “You need to learn how to say no,” he concludes.
The older man stares back for half a second, mouth open, before he slips back beneath the blanket, turns around and slams his head down onto the pillow resolutely. “We have a fucking staff meeting in the morning tomorrow,” Seungho says, back facing Joon. “You’re in charge of bringing the coffee.”
Joon runs the backs of his fingers lightly along Seungho’s cheek. “Can I get one of my lesbian students to do it? She’s always at school early because she’s on the swim team anyway.”
“Stop abusing your students.” Seungho kicks at the younger man beneath the blankets.
Joon snorts. “Like you’re allowed to say that, seonsangnim.” He’s about to reach over to flick off the light on his nightstand and slip down underneath the sheets when Seungho suddenly turns back around, a wide grin on his face. The smile inevitably (easily) spreads across Joon’s own lips as he instinctively leans down and kisses that grin-those full lips.
“Fuck are you talking about?” Seungho says lightly (playfully) as Joon dips down into the sheets, arms wrapping around the older man’s waist. “I was amazing to my students.”
Joon grins into Seungho’s hair. “I’ll take your word for it.”
The times that I first peeped at
He tries not to think about the future, whenever he can.
There’s no way to win if he thinks about the future too much because all he sees is some kind of separation when he goes off to university and Seungho goes off for bigger and better in his career (because Seungho loves teaching and Joon knows that and Joon wants Seungho to become something bigger and better). He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to give up what he hopes for.
Being with Seungho-with an adult-with someone who’s years older than him as opposed to just a few months (and Joon is always the hyung anyway-always surrounded by dongsaengs), makes Joon hyperaware of everything he does. How every single thing might be construed this way or that way-if it’s mature or immature, if it’s wise or unwise. And he knows that what he’s hoping for right now is both immature and unwise.
But he can’t help it.
He can’t help feel that it’s really going to happen, as he lies across Seungho’s lap on an unusually warm and sunny day (but they have to stay inside-have to stay cooped up in Seungho’s apartment because how can they go anywhere else? Someone could see them together), with the older man running fingers through Joon’s hair while they talk about new plans for the track schedule this week.
Joon thinks, feels, (even though he knows it’s stupid and unlikely) that Seungho and he will end up together. Somehow-someday-it might take time and he knows they’ll separate because they both have to aim for things that are bigger and better-but somehow and someday, he feels like they’ll find each other again.
Yeah.
Stupid, right?
I like you
Some things have improved and some things haven’t.
Seungho is the principal so there’s a certain amount of authority he has above the other teachers. Joon is a teacher whose older sister runs the company (that he co-runs because she refuses to run it by herself-too much work, she says, and unfair that they’re both their parents’ children and he can get off scot-free just because he wants to work with snotty adolescents and a hot principal boyfriend) that owns the board for the school.
Most of their co-workers don’t judge, but there are some who do and Joon and Seungho still have to be careful. They can be close to each other, but work is still work and Korea is still Korea. They keep it on the backburner as best they can, and it’s not hard because they live together-they see each other every day and every night and all afternoon, so it’s not especially hard to stave off each other’s company for just a few hours here and there.
But-
Oddly enough-
Even though most of their co-workers don’t judge because most of their colleagues are at unawares, the ones who do seem to know a little something here and something there seem to be Joon’s own students. He has no idea how they know, and he has no idea to what extent they know. All he knows is that whatever they do know, they have no problems with. The boys just give appraising looks (sometimes grins) whenever Seungho drops by, whenever they catch Joon and Seungho’s hands brushing together when they pass each other by. The girls are more obvious-bigger smiles and outright staring, sometimes outright questions, whenever Joon and Seungho are a little too near each other for a little too long.
Most of the time, Joon thinks that they all just like it because it gives them more ammo to use against him.
“So you were fucking him, weren’t you?” the girl in the front row asks sullenly. “And that’s why you still haven’t graded our essays?”
“I-just-you just finished those-so-haven’t had time-shut up before I give you detention,” Joon says, waving his lesson book in her face as the boy beside her laughs (the entire class is grinning).
(And-okay-so maybe Joon is smiling a little too)
If I ask you, you like me too
It’s not often, but it does happen.
It’s actually terribly rare and Joon doesn’t like thinking about how rare it is for it to happen because he doesn’t like thinking about things like that-there’s no point in making himself miserable when he needs all the willpower that he can muster. It’s awfully rare for Seungho to be the one initiating anything. It’ll always be Joon who’s wrapping his arms around the teacher’s waist, linking their fingers, tilting his head in to kiss Seungho, pulling Seungho to the side once everyone’s left-
It’s almost always Joon-it’s almost never Seungho.
Almost.
Because sometimes, very rarely-but still sometimes-it is.
Sometimes Seungho does.
Once in a while-like right now, right at this moment here in the weight room after Byunghee and Cheolyong and Sanghyun have all left-Seungho will be the one to start. He’ll be the one to take the first steps exactly the way he’s doing right now, lacing his fingers with the third year’s, pressing their bodies together-pressing their lips together. It doesn’t happen very often at all, but Joon doesn’t mind being the one to nearly always begin everything because the few times that Seungho takes the reins, it’s all worth it.
Because even if it’s few, even if it’s little, even if it’s almost never, if Seungho bothers to be the one to kiss Joon first, to touch Joon first, then at least Joon knows that somehow Seungho does care (Seungho does feel something for Joon-isn’t just in this to go along with things-that maybe Seungho is investing as much in this as Joon is).
“You’re all sweaty and shit,” Seungho murmurs, lips still lingering against Joon’s. “Go take a shower.”
Joon steps back slightly, hands slipping out of Seungho’s and up to grip at the sides of the teacher’s waistband. “I’m going to sweaty even more in a few minutes,” Joon says, “I’ll shower at home.”
Seungho smiles playfully, and tugs Joon’s shirt upward and off of the third year’s head in one pull. “True,” he says, right before he leans in to kiss the student again.
What’s my name?
He still goes by Joon.
He’s never had any thought to stop going by Joon because what would be the point? Regardless of the origins (regardless of how he refuses to tell the story of how he couldn’t pronounce his own name when he first started school and Jonghyun had to make up a nickname for him to be able to pronounce), he doesn’t see nor feel the need to suddenly change the way people have known and called him for years upon years now. When he’s meeting and greeting people at the company on the occasional day that his sister needs him there with her, or when he’s introducing himself to a new class at school or new staff members, it’s always Lee Joon.
If they find out what his real name is later, then that’s fine too, but he tells them that it’s Lee Joon and they accept that it’s Lee Joon because he won’t respond to anything else.
Other than his parents and his sister, there’s only one other person he’ll respond to calling him by his real name (because, after a while, even Byunghee has gotten used to Lee Joon after being around so many other people constantly referring to him as that rather than his real name).
But yeah-
Lee Changsun is special and Joon only lets one other person aside from his family call him by his real name. It’s just something that’s always been, and as far as Joon is concerned, it’s something that’ll always be.
I’m afraid that my heart
“My English,” Joon says, offended, “is spectacular. My English has the clarity of-”
“Your English is enough to make sure you have something to eat, somewhere to stay, and somewhere to piss,” Seungho says coolly without looking up from his laptop. They sit side-by-side in bed, shirtless and sweaty and still a little bit flushed but with breaths calmed and evened out for the most part. The clock on Joon’s nightstand reads sometime past midnight, which is early considering that tomorrow is Saturday and Joon has no company appointments for the weekend.
In his personal opinion, they should’ve finished watching the movie before having sex because it’s not like they need to wake up early tomorrow morning. Because now Joon will have to go through scene selection and find his place again since obviously he didn’t have time to pause the movie before Seungho took both of their pants off.
“What else do I need?” Joon asks, confused. “I know how to ask for alcohol too-”
Seungho laughs, glancing over and grinning. “Perfect, then,” he says, a tiny smile on his full lips as he continues typing. “We’re all set.”
“So you’re going?” Joon says, sliding in closer until their thighs are touching. He slips his hand over one of Seungho’s, and Seungho stops typing-the older man turns his hand around and their fingers thread together.
“Only for a week,” Seungho responds, shrugging. “Like, it’s this series of sessions that, if everything works out right, will-like-tell me some stuff about getting some our students into a foreign exchange program in the states. We’ll send some third years who take English over there and they’ll send some kids who take Korean over here. And most of your students take English, so I’ll probably need you to recommend some of your third years for it if it works out.”
Joon nods slowly, gazing at their intertwined hands-lying on top of the white blanket. “Noona’s finally got the branch in the U.S. setting off,” he says quietly.
“Oh, really?” Seungho says, blinking. “That’s good.”
The younger man turns his head-meets Seungho’s eyes.
Will be revealed in between my hands
Joon doesn’t like talking to Junhyung these days-tries to avoid it as best he can, and he knows that Junhyung doesn’t really like talking to Joon these days anyway either. Junhyung also has his own problems to deal with, ferrying between Hyunseung and university applications and dealing with the new first and second year members on the soccer team (who are reportedly exceptionally talented little demons that make Doojoon waste Yoseob’s French-cake-money on aspirin).
But it’s not like they never see each other and whenever they do, Joon feels every single wave of disapproval radiating from Junhyung. It’s something that Joon knows Junhyung hides as best he can from Seungho, but Seungho feels it too (only towards Seungho, they turn into waves of concern and worry and fear). Both Seungho and Joon feel it, but they never say anything to Junhyung and Junhyung never says anything to them.
Joon is too scared to say anything to Seungho, but Seungho is never too scared to say anything to Joon.
The teacher says during one of the times that Joon is over at Seungho’s apartment-Saturday morning-while Joon is lying across Seungho’s lap in the middle of the living room. “If you don’t like feeling fucked up,” Seungho says quietly, “then we can call it quits whenever you want.” He looks down at Joon and the third year feels like every single passing second that their gazes are connected makes Joon’s body smolder in white hot pain. “I’ll keep going if you do, but if you’re going to keep going-you can’t give a shit about what anyone thinks.”
Joon reaches up-palm against Seungho’s cheek.
“Not even what Junhyungie thinks,” Seungho says. “I had to stop giving a shit so you do too.”
My heart is overwhelmed
These days, Joon likes talking to Junhyung better than Jonghyun and Doojoon.
“Why,” Junhyung says, so flatly that it doesn’t sound like the question it’s probably supposed to be. “Why can’t you just take them? Like-Doojoonie is better at this kind of shit-I can’t believe I even had to-”
“Doojoonie would laugh,” Joon says, frowning. “And I’d never get anything done.” He ducks his head a little bit through the doorway that leads to the staff area, wondering if there are any employees that are getting ready to circle the floor again because Joon’s found another mold that he likes.
Junhyung sighs, flipping through another book of cut selections. “I mean-he’d laugh for like the first twenty minutes, but then he’d get over himself and get you better-looking rings than I will. He was the one who got me the rings for me and Hyunseungie, you know. I couldn’t pick rings like that by myself for fuck.”
Joon whirls around, staring. “What-wait-really?”
“Yes, really,” Junhyung says. “So can I go home now and you can bring Doojoon?”
“I don’t have time to come again,” Joon whines, “I have to put in the orders now because I have to get them by next month.”
Junhyung folds his arms, leaning back on the counter while Joon searches for an employee again. “Why’re you doing this all of a sudden anyway?” the younger man asks. “I mean-not that you guys aren’t like ready or crap-but-I mean-it’s so random.”
“I think,” Joon says, meeting Junhyung’s eyes with an odd smile, “that he’s going to get promoted to go to the states. Like-to teach Korean literature at some university there. And noona’s revving up the branch that we have in the states and my dad’s been talking to me about maybe camping it out there for a while to oversee and stuff and-I mean-I don’t know. If we moved there together then-”
“Then you guys could get married over there, and stay there,” Junhyung says, suddenly reflecting Joon’s odd smile.
Joon redirects his gaze (his smile) to the display of rings behind the glass cases. “That’s the plan,” he says. “I just hope he says yes.”
Please wait a bit more for me
It’s as old and wooden and fragile as he’d remembered when he’d bought it from the antique shop, and wrapped it up just a few months ago. He holds it in one hand after taking it off of the shelf in Seungho’s room. The third year turns it around and around in his hand, fingers caressing the delicate hour hand and then the minute hand. Obviously, it doesn’t work-it’s too old to work-but it’s still stable enough that Joon can push the hour and minute hands to display different times even if the clock can’t tell time by itself.
He wonders why he even gave it to Seungho as a Christmas present-it feels like so long ago even though it was really only two months ago. Joon wonders why this ancient clock, of all things, reminded him of Seungho. He does remember using the reasoning that at that time in the school year, Seungho had been teaching the first years Western literature and this was a Western clock, somewhere during the era where Seungho was taking novels out from.
But a part of Joon, right now as he holds the clock and waits for Seungho to come back with lunch, wishes that he’d given Seungho something different. This clock makes the third year uncomfortable for reasons he can’t explain.
I want to push on the clock even more
“Hyung,” Joon says, trying as hard as he can not to sound frustrated because if he sounds frustrated then Seungho will laugh at him, “can you please put that fucking clock on a fucking different shelf because this shelf already has too much crap on it so when I dust it, I have to take every single one of the things off and the clock is about to like fall apart and if it does, you’re going to yell at me, but now I can’t dust-”
Seungho squints from where the older man sits on the sofa beside the living room window, scrolling through something on his iPad. “Since when do you dust? Fuck-since when do you clean?”
“Since last week when Byunghee-hyung came over and told me that he’s not even allergic to anything, but being in our apartment made him break out in a bulbous rash,” Joon says.
“You know that he was just fucking with you, right?”
Joon opens his mouth.
Seungho raises his eyebrows.
Joon turns his eyes back at the clock. “I fucking hate this thing,” he says. “I should get you a new clock-one that just looks all old and moldy but isn’t actually so that way I don’t have to be terrified of breaking it when I dust.”
“Oh my God,” Seungho says, “just fucking stop dusting. I’ll punch Byunghee’s face next time he comes over if that makes you feel better-and leave my fucking clock alone.”
Joon stuffs the duster into the umbrella rack nearby. “Don’t break his nose, though, okay?” He steps towards where the other man sits, sliding one leg in between Seungho’s and standing close into the older man’s legs. Their eyes meet and Seungho laughs, fingers sliding inside of the waistband of Joon’s sweatpants, thumbs pressing into Joon’s hipbones.
“How come?” Seungho asks.
“I mean,” Joon shrugs, using his fingertips to move a few strands of Seungho’s hair this way and that way. “I don’t want him to punch me back.”
Seungho pats Joon’s ass in understanding. “It’s okay,” he says, “I’ll knock him out so he won’t get his nose broken and so he can’t punch you back. Better?”
Joon grins as Seungho’s hands start dancing up the younger man’s shirt.
In the future, which you will be in
Sometimes Joon wonders if Seungho has any idea how much Joon actually wishes they could stay together forever. Whenever they talk about the future-Joon’s future, in particular-Seungho always mentions university, running the company, moving, going off and away, graduation, degrees, falling in love, getting married (one way or the other). Seungho never mentions anything about the possibility that maybe, after Joon’s gotten settled into university and all those things, that they could still be together.
The way Seungho talks about the future scares Joon-terrifies Joon. Because even though Joon has no delusions about any of this-knows that they most likely won’t end up together, he’s still terrified about the fact that he might fall out of love with Seungho one day and fall in love with someone else. It’s supposed to be comforting according to Seungho-it’s supposed to be ideal because when you’re young, according to Seungho, you get hurt often and fast but you heal just as fast and often.
Except Joon doesn’t think so.
He doesn’t believe that and doesn’t want to.
He’d rather hurt forever and ever and ever over Seungho than fall out of love with him and in love with someone new. Joon wants to love Seungho-loves loving Seungho, and just wishes, with every fiber of his being (regardless of how pathetic it may be) that Seungho would realize that. He wishes Seungho would at least acknowledge, even if only halfheartedly, exactly how much Joon intends to invest in this relationship-intends to put in.
Despite knowing how hard it is for Seungho to be able to believe and trust even this much because of everything the teacher’s been through, Joon wishes that Seungho would just push himself that much further and believe in Joon that much more. He hates being told that he’ll get over Seungho one day and find someone better-someone who he can have a more suitable relationship with, someone who’s closer to his age, someone who’ll love him better, someone-someone-someone, except Joon doesn’t want anyone else.
It’s childish.
He knows it’s childish.
He knows that thinking like this makes him just as immature and ridiculous and dumb and stupid and childish-exactly the way Seungho probably thinks of him and exactly the way Joon has been trying this entire time not to be.
But he just can’t help it.
(He doesn’t want to love anyone else-ever)
In the blink of an eye
It’s not that Joon dislikes the idea of coming back to Korea the way Junhyung and Hyunseung, Doojoon and Yoseob, all did after their respective out-of-country weddings. It works fine for the other four and Joon can see that and it’s not that he’s rejecting that idea. If that’s what Seungho wants even, then Joon will go along with it because he doesn’t hate that option. Joon-he supposes-that-he’s had enough to do with being in something forbidden and frowned upon.
Everything he’s had with Seungho from the very beginning was frowned upon and forbidden in every way possible-from gender to age to status to position. And now that they have a chance not to be-to at least be able to walk the streets without worrying so much, because while Korea’s improved since when Joon was in high school, America has improved beyond that and if they have a chance to be there-to go there-then Joon wants to.
He’ll miss teaching, but leading the new branch of their company isn’t too terrible of a second choice. And Joon knows-wants-Seungho to go because Seungho is amazing and brilliant and Joon doesn’t just want Seungho to be teaching high school forever. If a university in the states wants Seungho, then Joon is going to make sure that university gets Seungho.
The ring and the ceremony and the vows and the certificates are just ribbons to tie everything together.
I’ll be an adult