ISS 2011: FOR SUIMIN_JIKAN
To: suimin_jikan
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Vanilla
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 6469
Summary: Sungyeol learns too much things from what a teacher can teach.
∞
Sungyeol twirls a pen between his fingers and listens to the teacher drone on and on. Things are a little boring, he thinks, and he watches the leaves fall outside the window instead.
There's a slam of a book on wood, Sungyeol doesn't pay attention enough to hear.
Clatter. A cloud of white chalk forms around Sungyeol's forehead and the teacher sighs when Sungyeol rubs at the wound.
“Lee Sungyeol. Are you not afraid of failing? It's your graduation year, and I know this is an elective course but you'd better pay attention. Tell me the effects of air pollution.”
Sungyeol checks the pages for air pollution in his notes.
5 full pages. “But Professor Seo-” He gets stopped by the female professor, sighing.
“Just- sit down. And listen.” Her fingers presses hard on her temples, frown on her brows as she turns back to scrawl down messy main points on the board.
The bell rings and Sungyeol feels as free as a bird. He still doesn't get why he had even allowed his best friend to influence him to take Environmental Science as an elective.
And that brat had the guts to leave him in there while he changed courses.
“Hyung!” Someone tackles his back with a childish giggle, ring file poking sharp at his spine and he chuckles knowingly.
“Sungjong-ah, what lesson do you have after lunch?”
“Mm... Biology.” The younger boy checks his timetable; head tilted to the side because of the landscape print. “What about you, hyung?”
“Mine’s Music Composition.” Sungyeol puffs up his cheeks and sighs. “I hope they'd stop with the keyboard nonsense. We've been composing with keyboards for like what, a year? I want to do guitars.”
Sungjong hums as if in approval, and his eyes widen in realization and amazement.
“Oh! Hyung, you're graduating in three months!”
Ah. That's right. Sungyeol hadn't given much thought about this touchy idea about graduation, but he ruffles his little brother's hair and the idea itself doesn't leave his head.
∞
“Class,” The professor places the wooden ruler on his table a little too loudly, chatters in the room dying down into whispers, and then silence. The students greet Professor Jang, before the professor breaks into a speech.
“You guys are graduating in three months. This shouldn't be a surprise, but there's a compulsory graduation project for you guys.” He pauses and holds up a hand to stop the curious murmurs, “But this time it’s solo work. Not in groups. There should be no duplicates, or similar ideas. This assignment will determine whether you graduate, or retain. 100%.” Professor Jang pumps a fist into the air, and the whispers spring back to life.
Sungyeol leaned forward in excitement. He knew there would be a project for the graduating students, he wished it wouldn't involve his elective and heck if a wish came true in his life it would be this.
“Your task? Compose. The theme for the composition is...” The students hold their breath; Professor Jang grinned a little. “Danger.”
Some students cheered; some students groaned; Sungyeol stared into space in despair, lips opened in a silent protest.
God, how is he supposed to find danger in his life and string it into a piece of music?
“Oh,” The professor pipes up again, “This year it's different for you guys. You have to sing along, too. Better sing well or you’ll ruin my reputation.” He chuckles. “First checking of assignment is two weeks from now, consultation is open all day, look for me!”
The professor leaves the room without anymore information divulged and the noise in the room became so loud Sungyeol thought his head would burst.
Well, fuck. Sungyeol looked at his best friend Woohyun- damn he could sing, damn well he could. Hoya- even if he couldn't sing, he'd probably get some junior girl to coach him with it.
Which means he's pretty much left alone in his pit of I-can't-sing-at-all; in addition to his lack of encountering ‘danger’ in his life.
Sungyeol sighs, for the nth time of the day.
∞
“Sungyeol-ah!” Woohyun calls from opposite the cafeteria, arms waving and Sungyeol barely acknowledges him. He reclines in his seat, sighing as Woohyun talked about his great ideas for the graduation project.
“Why are you sulking so badly, Yeol?”
“I can’t sing for god’s sake, Woohyun. What do I do?” He lets out a sound of annoyance, tugging his hair with his fingers and Woohyun pats his shoulder while Sungjong watches in amusement.
“Mmm, there’s this professor who teaches vocals. I think he’s Professor Kim or something. He doesn’t have lessons recently, and lots of graduating students have looked him up for help too. Maybe you could...?” Sungjong’s voice drifts off into an open ended question and Sungyeol purses his lips.
“Sounds fine to me,” Woohyun adds.
So Sungyeol ends up in front of the professor’s desk, half a head taller than the older male, and it’s somehow embarrassing because Sungjong must have lied; there aren’t any students asking for help.
“Are you graduating?” The professor asks, coffee in his left hand, pen in his right. His voice is deeper than Sungyeol would have imagined, but a little higher if compared to his mature looks.
“Yes, I’ve heard that you helped many students in their project and so I came to ask if-”
The professor snickers and sets his cup of coffee down- Sungyeol stops what he was saying.
“I decided not to help them this year,” He flips his fringe to the side, “Look at their pitiful faces outside there.” The professor jabs a finger at the windows, and Sungyeol sees people in his year; begging and begging for help but the voices doesn’t go through the frosted glass.
“But I really can’t sing-”
“I know.” The older male smirks, coffee cup to his lips and pen thrown to Sungyeol. “Write your name down, I’ll see you tomorrow. Here, at the same time you came just now.”
Sungyeol remains baffled while he writes his name in a messy scrawl, 이성열.
The professor grins. “Professor Kim- or Kim Myungsoo. I’ll look forward to working with you.”
They shake hands and Sungyeol nods blankly.
“Don’t tell anyone about this either,” Myungsoo sinks back into his chair, “you’ll be the only student I’m coaching from now.” He winks.
Sungyeol concludes it’s a bad idea when he walks out of the door and gets mobbed by never ending questions, and when he walks out of the door and his heart can’t seem to stop thumping.
∞
“Really?!” Sungjong chirps during lunch the next day, eyes tearing with laughter and almost chokes on the egg sandwich he was eating. “He must really like you then, huh?”
Sungyeol snorts. “Ah, I have no idea why it's me. People have been bothering me since morning. Do I really look like I’m… someone who would use crazy measures to get professor to coach me?” He awkwardly waves to Niel, another classmate; face pained with desperation.
Sungjong's eyes follow Sungyeol's gaze and he laughs. “Who knows?” Sungyeol growls in Sungjong’s direction. “Yes, Professor Kim must really, really like you. Even Niel-hyung's rejected.”
Woohyun sets his tray down, overhearing their conversation and pokes fun at Sungyeol during the rest of lunch.
The rest of the day was bad for Sungyeol.
Different students came up to him to ask how on earth did you manage to convince Professor Kim; why did he coach you and not the others.
Sungyeol wants to punch something real badly, and Myungsoo just happened to turn through this corner of the corridor and Sungyeol’s fist knocks on Myungsoo’s jaw, somewhat hard.
“Aish…”
Sungyeol grabs the older man’s arm and yanks him to his feet, mumbling I’m sorry through pouted lips and eyes never daring to look up. Myungsoo straightens his coat and sighs, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “Come with me.”
The moment they walk into the room Myungsoo locks the door loud, click of the key and he keeps it in his pocket.
“To master vocal singing, you have to master your music notes.” Myungsoo says rather nonchalantly, Sungyeol’s eyes not leaving the purplish red bruise on the older man’s jaw.
“Do you know why every student comes to me for help instead of the other teachers? Male or female, they beg for me to coach them, to help them, to let them know the purpose of our vocal cords.”
Sungyeol sits on a table, eyes focused on the older male and listening ever so intently to the lecture.
“Aside from singing, our vocal cords can do lots of amazing things,” Myungsoo pauses to glance at Sungyeol, smirk forming on one corner of his lips, “And I wish to teach you all that.”
“But my assignment is to compose and sing-”
“That I know,” Myungsoo snaps, frown on his brows. “But you have to know how you can use your voice to sing. That’s my purpose being a professor in here.”
Sungyeol has got nothing to reply to that, and Myungsoo clicks his tongue.
“You want to graduate, don't you?”
“Of course.”
“Then listen to me.”
Sungyeol sits, not moving, eyes following the back of the walking professor.
“Hey,” He starts, eyes darting evasively and blinks nervously (why, he isn’t sure) when the professor turns around. “Can I call you Myungsoo?”
The older male nods, a contemplative look on his face. “Sure, we need to get rid of the formalities anyway.”
Myungsoo peers through the frosted glass, sighs and grins (just the corner of his lips, though) when no one else is outside, and Sungyeol stares.
“No one is outside now.” Myungsoo states, flat, his eyes unreadable, his lips in a strained, strange smile.
“Obviously,” Sungyeol mutters, eyes fixed at the clock on the wall. It’s 6, and he has no idea why he’s sitting around, listening to a professor doing and saying weird things, when he should be at home, sitting around and doing productive things like thinking about his project-right; his project.
Neither speaks, but Sungyeol is dying to ask how he was going to start his project.
That’d be rude, right?
Sungyeol looks up when he hears quiet footsteps (too quiet, really) approaching him- Myungsoo throws his jacket on the floor, and Sungyeol’s eyes widen more than they have ever did when the professor leans close, comes close, those lips pressing close to his own, and the loud, obnoxious pounding of his heart gets in his way of thinking.
Think straight, Lee Sungyeol! He screams in his head, his limbs are frantically trying to get away, but Myungsoo’s grasp is strong and his lips are soft and warm, Sungyeol is tied down, hard.
Sungyeol groans in defeat, Myungsoo chuckles for a moment.
“That was…” Myungsoo trails off; Sungyeol didn’t know what continuation he was expecting. “An E note.” Sungyeol stares. He’s baffled.
“I told you I’d teach you about the notes, didn’t I?” Myungsoo shoots a victorious smirk in Sungyeol’s direction, his hand on Sungyeol’s chest lifts and he pushes against the white floor to stand up.
“Get up, it’s past 6. Go home, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Myungsoo sits on his recliner, coffee in his right hand, left hand waving a bye swiftly.
Sungyeol closes the door silently, cheeks an embarrassing tint of pink.
∞
If not for Sungyeol’s not-so-subtle stares at the professor the next day in assembly, Sungjong wouldn’t have taken Sungyeol’s lunch money away, demanding for the juicy details before he could have it back.
“Nothing,” Sungyeol murmurs after two seconds of hesitation, eying the wad of notes clutched too tight in his brother’s closed fist.
“Oh, look over there!” Sungjong exclaims, pointing to Sungyeol’s right and he turns-Myungsoo. Sungyeol turns away half a second too quick, and Sungjong waves the money in his face, an interested smirk on Sungjong’s lips and Sungyeol curses.
“Nothing~” Sungjong imitates, voice an octave higher, grin a little brighter. It takes Sungyeol three seconds and five deep breaths to stop himself from sending a punch to Sungjong’s pretty face.
Sungyeol decides not to eat lunch anyway, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. He rolls his eyes and sighs in defeat when Sungjong trails slowly behind, that girly voice ringing in his ears.
Classes whirl by like wind, with eighty percent of his classmates in Music Composition already humming to their never-heard new tunes and pencils jotting down lyrics for their work.
Sungyeol is bothered when Woohyun sings too loud, high notes are itching Sungyeol to scream shut up, because he has done nothing for his project. Nothing at all.
Several girls scream, squeal and point to the window; it’s Professor Kim! Sungyeol turns his head on instinct and his cheeks redden to the deepest shade of crimson when Myungsoo meets his eyes and winks; he looks away to cool the heat on his face and the squeals die down, eventually.
“That wink was for me!” Jiae, one of Sungyeol’s classmates, protests against another handful of classmates; in which everyone was insisting that the wink was for them.
Poor bitches, Sungyeol thinks smugly and smirks. That wink was for me.
After the hype died down in the crowd, Sungyeol frowns and groans, burying his face into the solitary space he made with his arms.
Hoya comes around five minutes later, arms and joints popping at weird and sharp angles, humming to his new tune, lip-syncing to his new lyrics. “I even have a dance planned out for this,” He chortles, eager to show-off but Sungyeol grunts in annoyance and his hand comes up to wave Hoya away.
“What’s up with you, Yeol?” Hoya stops, sits on the table beside where Sungyeol was resting his head on.
“Ah get off, your ass stinks.” Sungyeol makes a face, frowns and growls two levels less intimidating than he usually will, ducks back into his arms and Hoya backs off.
There are quiet whispers and speculation about Sungyeol’s strange behaviour, he thinks half of them are wrong anyway, and then Myungsoo comes striding into the classroom, right into Sungyeol’s face.
Myungsoo pokes at the crease on Sungyeol’s forehead, grins a little (just a little) and murmurs words too low for the spying girls to hear.
“My office. At 3. Don’t be late.” He ends off with a coy smirk, leaving open-ended question marks for the on looking crowd. Sungyeol plops back to his original state, all life evaporated from him.
He’d never wanted to hit a girl (or girls) so bad, until Jiae and her group gushed close and asked questions that Sungyeol will never, ever answer.
∞
Sungyeol bites the inside of his cheeks, hesitating before giving the door a tentative knock. There wasn’t response after seconds, so he knocks twice again, and the gentle scent of vanilla almost topples him over as the door swung open.
“Come in,” Myungsoo says.
Heck, Myungsoo never once had emotion in his voice. Never. Sungyeol found it… rather interesting. Now this almost makes Sungyeol wants to discover the emotions the older can hold.
Sungyeol walks in, breathes in the scent of familiar vanilla (too familiar, really) with the slight realization that he’d only been in here once.
So much for familiar.
Sungyeol plops down onto the nearest chair, watching Myungsoo bustle about with his cup of coffee. His eyes follow his back and the older male turns around-Sungyeol gulps and almost chokes, fingers fiddling with the strands of hair on the back of his neck.
“Do you… want coffee?” The professor awkwardly starts, in which Sungyeol nods evasively, eyes roaming at random places, fingers drumming in a silent rhythm on the armrest of the swivelling chair.
Sungyeol’s heartbeats, eventually, slows down and his train of thoughts (what is he thinking about, anyway?) is stopped abruptly when Myungsoo sets the two cups of steaming coffee on the table and gestures Sungyeol over.
The hot coffee burns Sungyeol’s tongue at the first taste, and he tears up a little while slowly sipping the beverage, Myungsoo’s eyes never leaving his face.
Sungyeol’s blushing, he feels it and there’s no way to hide the red on his cheeks this time round. Myungsoo’s slight grin is inviting him to a challenge; to see whose emotions break through first.
He hopes he can lie his way through by saying it was the coffee.
The gentle clink of the china on the glass table makes Sungyeol look up, and Myungsoo stretches his arms.
“Um-” Sungyeol begins, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence that descended, but the rest of his words are cut off by warm lips pressing against his own and hands cupping his face. The cup falls to the ground, the soft carpet muting the expected breaking of the china cup as he makes a small sound of shock, his eyes widening. His first thought is to push Myungsoo away, but the kiss is deep and sensual and the thought disappears like it had never been there. Closing his eyes slowly, Sungyeol gives in and start kissing back.
Myungsoo takes it as a good sign and leans in some more, pushing Sungyeol deeper into the chair, which squeaks in retaliation to the additional weight. Sungyeol whimpers into his mouth, just as Myungsoo's tongue prods his bottom lip for entrance. It doesn't take much more than that for Sungyeol to comply, parting his lips and letting Myungsoo explore his mouth.
It's hot, Sungyeol thinks to himself, and as though Myungsoo read his mind (He probably can, Sungyeol thinks now), his hand snakes beneath his shirt. Sungyeol gasps and breaks the kiss at this. He knows where this is going, but he's not sure what’s the point for this is, but Myungsoo doodles circles (out of shape, Sungyeol feels) on his exposed skin at the base of his shirt with his fingers, and Sungyeol throws whatever worries and cares he has left into the wind as Myungsoo skilfully pulls off the younger male's shirt.
The rest of their clothes follow suit, but it doesn't make the room any less hotter than before. Myungsoo leaves a trail of kisses down Sungyeol's neck and fleeting touches on the rest of his skin. He's not sure if it's him or Myungsoo making all these noises, mind a haze from the lust. It's not enough, Sungyeol realises, and he lifts his hips up to brush with Myungsoo's body, moaning at the friction.
“D note. How low can you get?” Myungsoo snarls teasingly, hands trailing slowly up Sungyeol’s torso, the soft feathery touches making Sungyeol let out a low growl.
Myungsoo pauses at that, and for a moment Sungyeol thinks he's done something wrong. He tenses when he sees Myungsoo walk away to his desk, but the other man returns quickly enough, a bottle in his hand. The grin on his face tells Sungyeol he's not angry, but he's now more worried about the object in Myungsoo's hand.
“C.”
Myungsoo pulls him out from his chair before crashing their lips together once more and backing Sungyeol up against the wall.
The older male does his best to prepare him, not wanting to hurt the other boy-as much emotionless he had been. He tries it out with one finger first, slowly coaxing it into Sungyeol. Sungyeol's breath hitches in his throat at the cold touch, but doesn't stop him. It's uncomfortable, but it's not painful. He nudges Myungsoo to continue and Myungsoo does, adding a second finger. He parts them to spread Sungyeol a bit more, and Sungyeol lets out a small moan. The third finger follows and soon enough, Sungyeol's hips are bucking for Myungsoo's touch.
Myungsoo slowly pulls his fingers out and Sungyeol whimpers. He feels empty all of a sudden, and one part of him wishes for Myungsoo's fingers to be inside him again. But the older male only turns him around so that his arms are on the wall.
Sungyeol figures out what's about to happen just before it does, Myungsoo's length pressing against his entrance. He cries out when Myungsoo pushes in all the way slowly, trying his best to get accustomed to it. Myungsoo sucks on the skin on his nape to help him, one hand on his hip and one hand wrapped around Sungyeol's erection.
After a while, the pain subsides and Sungyeol nods for Myungsoo to move. Myungsoo tries thrusting in shallowly and the moans Sungyeol makes goes straight to his cock. He starts moving faster, his hand that is wrapped around Sungyeol moving in the same rhythm as his thrusts. The room is filled with the sound of their harsh breaths and grunts and it doesn't take long for them both to reach their limit.
Sungyeol moans loudly as he climaxes, tightening around Myungsoo and that does it for the older male. Myungsoo pushes himself deep in one last time before he comes as well, hips bucking.
The slow chime of the last school bell shakes Sungyeol up from his euphoria and Myungsoo sits up, in his naked glory until Sungyeol tosses him his large jacket, dresses up and leaves, not missing out the soft chuckle right before the closes the door behind him, vanilla dissipating into the evening sun.
∞
Sungyeol throws his backpack on his bed grudgingly, sits on the swivelling chair and hisses in pain. It’s been three days and his private lessons hadn’t been doing him any good. At all.
He pulls the cloth covering the piano keyboard away and turns the switch on. Danger, he thinks hard, and his fingers fly across the keys, notes combining to a slow melody. His eyes flutter open quickly; hands grabbing a notebook and a pencil and he begins to jot down whatever he remembers from the medley just now.
Sungyeol closes his eyes again and tries to conjure up a tune in his head, but the memories of Myungsoo and him doing that comes clogging up his head and he snarls in frustration, fingers pressing on the ivory keys a little too hard and the melody that comes out this time sounds more jagged and quick.
He scribbles the notes down, his heart thumping from the dirty, dirty memories and plays the entire thing again.
Sungyeol’s eyes light up a little and then he bites his lips eagerly, filling in the lyrics for the part he’d finished with just now.
The whispered secrets while looking at a clock
My heart’s desperate story
It’s okay to harm my form
The more you demand from me I like it
Call out my name
The pencil falls onto the wooden table as Sungyeol sighs. The lyrics came to his mind like flowing water; so smooth and beautiful but all he thinks of is how much he wants to see Myungsoo again, how much he craves for his touch and the things he would do, if Myungsoo asks him to.
The phone beside his notebook vibrates and Sungyeol turns to look.
Are you free tomorrow? Woohyun and I are going to catch the new movie.
Sungyeol realizes it’s the Thanksgiving holidays this weekend. He quickly replies Hoya with a “No” without explanation, but before sending, he sighed and typed in a quick excuse.
No. Got to work on project. You guys have fun.
He turns back to his notebook to brainstorm until his phone beeps again.
Not done yet? LOL okay have fun
Sungyeol throws his phone on his bed, annoyed by how easy the others are taking this to be and because he has zero ideas how he should continue his piece.
He thinks about the times he’d spent with Myungsoo; and being completely honest to himself, the only thought that fits with his memories is: he’s dangerous.
And he sits up on his bed, wondering if he should just compose a whole song for… him.
It’s dumb, but he does it anyway.
The switch of the piano is thrown on again and the soft twinklings of the keys make Sungyeol feel comfortable. He thinks of the way his heart pounds when Myungsoo smirks, and his fingers press on the wrong keys but it turns out okay anyway.
The notes are written on the notebook in a rush again and he focuses on the lyrics.
This part’s faster and more edgy. He thinks, I’ll make this part the chorus.
He stares at the wall, the table lamp, the poster by his bed, the clock and groans.
I’m scared that my shining heart would be revealed
Through the gaps between my fingers
It’s too much for my heart, it’s sorrowful
Hold on a little longer and wait for me
You and I, it can’t be yet
I want to hurry the clock more but
In the future in which you are in
Call out my name
He erases and corrects; erases and corrects until it looks the way he wants it to be.
The clock announces it is 2AM in the night, and Sungyeol clears his throat to sing through the lyrics once.
He ends the last note with a yawn and then shuts the notebook and covers the keyboard with a slight grin.
∞
Sungyeol decides to pay the school a visit in the morning the next day, chilly winds greeting him in empty corridors and deserted hallways.
He thinks he needs to sleep early in the future because his eyes are playing tricks on him; aren’t they? He can’t be looking at Kim fucking Myungsoo at 8AM on a holiday, in school-
“Lee Sungyeol. What are you doing in school?”
Oh no. Now even his ears are hearing things. Sungyeol blinks rapidly and shakes his head in an attempt to wake up but Myungsoo walks towards him with a worried but amused expression.
Sungyeol pinches himself and flinches. So this isn’t a dream.
“Are you okay?” Myungsoo grins a little more sincere than the past few times they’ve been together and Sungyeol manages a nod with wide eyes.
The melody of his piece runs past his mind briefly and he remembers why he’s here for.
“Why are you in school too, Professor Kim?”
“Homework marking.” Myungsoo smirks. “But I don’t see why you are here.”
“I’m looking for inspiration for my graduating piece,” Sungyeol explains quickly.
Myungsoo poses by the nearest wall and winks. “Am I inspiring enough?”
Sungyeol doesn’t reply.
“I take silence as yes, usually.” Myungsoo teases.
The taller male huffs a reply and walks away, leaving the teacher behind.
Sungyeol remembers that the deadline for the first check will be the day right after the Thanksgiving holidays, and he managed to record his piece-right up to where he stopped last night, so he drops the CD off on Professor Jang’s table with a little note attached, his name scribbled on it.
He rushes home quickly after the school visit, sits on his bed and practices his keys for the piece. His thoughts fly by quickly as the tune sooths his mind and unconsciously, he continues playing even though the notes aren’t there anymore.
The music stops at an abrupt pitch and he picks up the pencil on the floor and flips his notebook open.
The times when I first peeked around
You and I were together
I liked the you who played with me
When I asked, you liked it as well
What is my name?
Sungyeol plays and plays and decides that the chorus fits in right after this part, so he jots that down again.
I’m scared that my shining heart would be revealed
Through the gaps between my fingers
It’s too much for my heart, it’s sorrowful
Hold on a little longer and wait for me
You and I, it can’t be yet
I want to hurry the clock more but
In the future in which you are in
Call out my name
R u working on your project now? Composing a song to dear professor? ㅋㅋ
Sungyeol snorts at Sungjong’s text message when he’s just a room beside, so he strolls over to the younger’s room and throws his pillow at him, earning a yell.
“Hyung, are you okay with your project? You haven’t been going out with your friends and only cooping in your room…” Sungjong pouts; hot chocolate in his hands and Sungyeol snatches it up to take a sip.
Sungjong whines profusely and Sungyeol laughs, returning it back.
“I’m doing fine, since I have inspiration…” Sungyeol pats Sungjong’s head, eyes glassy and Sungjong snaps to bring him back to reality.
“If by inspiration you mean your dear professor, go on then hyung,” Sungjong comments with a chuckle, yelping when Sungyeol smacks him on the head.
“I’m going over,” Sungyeol sings, closing the door too loudly behind him.
The conversation with Sungjong has definitely, in a way or another, taken away some stress in his mind and he sits in front of his piano, fingers ready.
He thinks about what could happen in the future with Myungsoo, his tinkling laughter and his teasing tone, thinks about the things he’d been taught about vocal cords and how amazing Myungsoo’s are, and his fingers move unconsciously.
In a blink of an eye, I’ll be an adult
You know me, right? You remember me, right?
Yeah, that strange child
I really like your image that shines in between my fingers
Sungyeol doesn’t really know what comes after that so he reuses the tune for the chorus and alters the lyrics, the waiting of the future and the anticipation of how things will turn out, the sick twist of fate and the waiting hands of time.
As I spin them with my fingertips,
Hands of the clock, please run
Fly just a little faster
I close my eyes and cast a spell
You and I, we still have a little left
I don’t know how many days or how much time
In the future in which you are there
If I happen to past by
To help me recognize you
Call out my name
He ends the song with a low tone; a depressing tone, lightly writes down the notes and leaves the piano uncovered, just for today.
∞
Sungyeol wakes up on Sunday to find out that his first draft did well; unless Professor Jang’s message was a lie, and he sends his final song over to him by email and waits eagerly for the remarks.
He hums a happy tune and then hums his own, chewing on toast and sipping on black Americano, Sungjong watching warily but cheerfully, urging Sungyeol on and congratulating him for the results.
“Yah, so are your lessons with Professor Kim still on? Since you’re done with your project…” Sungjong asks casually, and Sungyeol drops the cube of sugar into his coffee.
A sigh. “I don’t know either.”
Sungjong sets his mug down on the table and leaves the table, fluffy slippers making soft sounds against the floor.
Sungyeol drops by the school later in the afternoon again, betting against himself if Myungsoo was in school.
And he was.
Glasses hanging low on his nose and eyes focused on the thick pile of work on his table, Myungsoo probably looked way too good to be a teacher.
“Um…” Sungyeol mutters, knocking on the door uncertainly, and Myungsoo looks up with an amused expression.
“Why are you here again?” Myungsoo removes his glasses in a fluent motion and sits up straight.
“I kind of finished with my graduation project so…” Sungyeol bites his lips unsteadily, “So I thought maybe our lessons could stop now? Since I’m not really interested in singing or whatnot-”
Myungsoo pulls Sungyeol by the wrist and cuts him off, lips meeting midair and Sungyeol finds it harder and harder to pull away because Myungsoo’s holding him too tight and gravity wants him to fall down, not away.
“Why?” Myungsoo asks, but not giving Sungyeol time to reply; lips sealing Sungyeol’s and prying the younger’s lips open, feeling him squirm beneath.
“Aish,” Sungyeol exclaims, rolling off Myungsoo to the soft carpeted floor, “I don’t know,” He murmurs, “Do you do this to every student of yours?”
An abrupt silence follows after the question; Sungyeol turns to see Myungsoo staring hard at the ceiling. “Who knows?” He faces the younger and grins.
“Tch, I’m not coming back here anymore,” Sungyeol replies nonchalantly, dusting his pants with his hands and walks out of the room.
He takes a last deep inhale of the sweet plain vanilla and closes the door behind.
∞
It’s been weeks since Sungyeol completed his work and last seen Myungsoo, he’s been smiling a lot more in class now his burden is removed, and even watches Hoya dance to his piece.
There’re three days left to the revealing of the results and a showcase for the top scorers, and Sungyeol’s so nervous he can’t sleep so Sungjong has to pet his hair every night until they both fall asleep.
On the day of the revelation, Sungyeol makes a silent prayer that he’d get a decent score because he thinks his piece was quite well-done, and when they were gathered in the hall, Sungjong mouths a hwaiting and Sungyeol smiles.
“First place goes to…” The teacher-in-charge, Mr Lee, trails off, the thick layer of tension in the air and he clears his throat. “Kim Sunggyu of Class 1, with his piece ‘Because’; and a score of 97. Congratulations to this talented young man amongst all of us!”
The male with slits for eyes and a bright smile goes up on the stage to receive his prize and a certificate and goes off, stumbling on the steps.
“Don’t forget that only the top ten scorers will get prizes and only the top three will get to perform at the year-end Christmas showcase. By performing at the showcase, you’re exposing yourself to good and renowned institutes and might earn a scholarship to their school.”
“And now for the second place… Nam Woohyun of Class 3, with his piece ‘Time’; also a high score of 94. Congratulations!”
Sungyeol congratulates the shocked Woohyun beside him and gives him a hug, laughing as Woohyun almost falls when walking towards the stage.
“I’d like to thank a lot of people, but there isn’t time so I’ll thank you all personally!” Woohyun rushes in a take of air and blinks, tears in his eyes and Hoya yells don’t cry.
Woohyun rushes down the stage after receiving his prizes and huddles in his seat beside Sungyeol, sobbing.
“Third place! This piece was thought to be a fresh and interesting tune by the teachers and judges, with intriguing and bitter lyrics.” Sungyeol clasps his palms together and focuses. “Lee Sungyeol, of Class 3! His catchy piece ‘You & I’ got himself a high score of 91! Congratulations!”
The hall burst into another frenzy of applause and Sungyeol stands up with his legs feeling like jelly.
“Go on!” Woohyun and Hoya urge, and he moves to the stage like a dummy.
“Thank you… All my friends… Sungjong… Professor Jang… Thank you.”
He clutches the certificate to his heart and sits in his seat.
Sungyeol doesn’t remember who comes next but Hoya’s got the fifth and nothing else really matters.
∞
“Five minutes to go!” Someone yells from behind, and Sungyeol sits uneasily in front of the piano, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his white suit and wondering if his hair, gelled up, looks okay.
Sunggyu and Woohyun have already finished their first turns performing and it’s his now. He takes a deep breath and watches another person test the microphone, listening to the shrill voice countdown to the opening of the curtains.
Sungyeol stands up and bows to the audience. There are many people present, a lot of people. He grins tentatively and sits back on the velvet chair.
His worries and thoughts and admiration fly away the moment his fingers touch the cold ivory keys, his voice fascinating himself because it sounds smooth, confident and soft-nothing like something Lee Sungyeol was ever capable of.
He sings and he doesn’t need the notes anymore, his fingers pressing on the correct keys as he scans through the crowd.
Kim Myungsoo… He’s nowhere to be seen. He should be here, right? Sungyeol’s piece is majorly inspired by him (heck, even written for him) and whether the professor knows it or not, he needs to…
Sungyeol finishes the piece in a sorrowful tone, the way the song was portrayed to be, and bows to the audience again, revelling in the echoes of the claps and cheers.
“Gotta run somewhere,” Sungyeol whispers to the stage noonas, throwing the coat of his suit to the floor and makes a mad dash to the professor’s office.
He knocks on the door like usual but no one answers, so he unlocks the door with a click (it isn’t even locked,) and walks in.
The sweet scent of vanilla is still present in the still air, but the cause of the vanilla isn’t. Instead, there’s a letter on the table with Sungyeol’s Korean name written on it.
Lee Sungyeol.
I’m hoping you done well for your finals, seeing how great of a teacher I am…
I’m gone now, if no one told you, I’ve migrated to another place to be a teacher in a university.
Let’s see how things go, no? What if you come to my school?
So I won’t tell you where I’m going to.
Good luck for you future.
Kim Myungsoo
Sungyeol punches the wall with a growl, letter folded neatly in his pocket.
“Thank you.” He whispers to the letter, softly.
∞
Sungyeol smacks the back of Sungjong’s head lightly when the younger whines, pulling on his sleeve because Sungyeol’s leaving.
“Hyung, get on your laptop daily okay? We need to talk everyday or I’ll get lonely.” Sungjong pouts and frowns. “Also, come back every time you can, okay? Buy lots of things back for you adorable brother~”
“I know, I know,” Sungyeol laughs, ruffling Sungjong’s hair and they say their goodbyes. Sungyeol can see Sungjong’s about to cry so he pulls his luggage into the departure gate fast and waves his last goodbye to Woohyun, Hoya, Sungjong, Sunggyu… everyone.
Sungyeol manages to revise his English on the plane and making sure he can hold a conversation and understand what others are talking about.
His scholarship letter in his left hand, his shades in his right; with a luggage behind him, Sungyeol stops in front of the gate of an art school in California, taking a deep breath before strolling in.
He turns left to his dormitory and his shades fall to the floor when he sees a face too familiar.
“Lee Sungyeol,” The voice calls out, familiar, too familiar.
“Kim Myungsoo…”
fin.
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Vanilla
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 6469
Summary: Sungyeol learns too much things from what a teacher can teach.
∞
Sungyeol twirls a pen between his fingers and listens to the teacher drone on and on. Things are a little boring, he thinks, and he watches the leaves fall outside the window instead.
There's a slam of a book on wood, Sungyeol doesn't pay attention enough to hear.
Clatter. A cloud of white chalk forms around Sungyeol's forehead and the teacher sighs when Sungyeol rubs at the wound.
“Lee Sungyeol. Are you not afraid of failing? It's your graduation year, and I know this is an elective course but you'd better pay attention. Tell me the effects of air pollution.”
Sungyeol checks the pages for air pollution in his notes.
5 full pages. “But Professor Seo-” He gets stopped by the female professor, sighing.
“Just- sit down. And listen.” Her fingers presses hard on her temples, frown on her brows as she turns back to scrawl down messy main points on the board.
The bell rings and Sungyeol feels as free as a bird. He still doesn't get why he had even allowed his best friend to influence him to take Environmental Science as an elective.
And that brat had the guts to leave him in there while he changed courses.
“Hyung!” Someone tackles his back with a childish giggle, ring file poking sharp at his spine and he chuckles knowingly.
“Sungjong-ah, what lesson do you have after lunch?”
“Mm... Biology.” The younger boy checks his timetable; head tilted to the side because of the landscape print. “What about you, hyung?”
“Mine’s Music Composition.” Sungyeol puffs up his cheeks and sighs. “I hope they'd stop with the keyboard nonsense. We've been composing with keyboards for like what, a year? I want to do guitars.”
Sungjong hums as if in approval, and his eyes widen in realization and amazement.
“Oh! Hyung, you're graduating in three months!”
Ah. That's right. Sungyeol hadn't given much thought about this touchy idea about graduation, but he ruffles his little brother's hair and the idea itself doesn't leave his head.
∞
“Class,” The professor places the wooden ruler on his table a little too loudly, chatters in the room dying down into whispers, and then silence. The students greet Professor Jang, before the professor breaks into a speech.
“You guys are graduating in three months. This shouldn't be a surprise, but there's a compulsory graduation project for you guys.” He pauses and holds up a hand to stop the curious murmurs, “But this time it’s solo work. Not in groups. There should be no duplicates, or similar ideas. This assignment will determine whether you graduate, or retain. 100%.” Professor Jang pumps a fist into the air, and the whispers spring back to life.
Sungyeol leaned forward in excitement. He knew there would be a project for the graduating students, he wished it wouldn't involve his elective and heck if a wish came true in his life it would be this.
“Your task? Compose. The theme for the composition is...” The students hold their breath; Professor Jang grinned a little. “Danger.”
Some students cheered; some students groaned; Sungyeol stared into space in despair, lips opened in a silent protest.
God, how is he supposed to find danger in his life and string it into a piece of music?
“Oh,” The professor pipes up again, “This year it's different for you guys. You have to sing along, too. Better sing well or you’ll ruin my reputation.” He chuckles. “First checking of assignment is two weeks from now, consultation is open all day, look for me!”
The professor leaves the room without anymore information divulged and the noise in the room became so loud Sungyeol thought his head would burst.
Well, fuck. Sungyeol looked at his best friend Woohyun- damn he could sing, damn well he could. Hoya- even if he couldn't sing, he'd probably get some junior girl to coach him with it.
Which means he's pretty much left alone in his pit of I-can't-sing-at-all; in addition to his lack of encountering ‘danger’ in his life.
Sungyeol sighs, for the nth time of the day.
∞
“Sungyeol-ah!” Woohyun calls from opposite the cafeteria, arms waving and Sungyeol barely acknowledges him. He reclines in his seat, sighing as Woohyun talked about his great ideas for the graduation project.
“Why are you sulking so badly, Yeol?”
“I can’t sing for god’s sake, Woohyun. What do I do?” He lets out a sound of annoyance, tugging his hair with his fingers and Woohyun pats his shoulder while Sungjong watches in amusement.
“Mmm, there’s this professor who teaches vocals. I think he’s Professor Kim or something. He doesn’t have lessons recently, and lots of graduating students have looked him up for help too. Maybe you could...?” Sungjong’s voice drifts off into an open ended question and Sungyeol purses his lips.
“Sounds fine to me,” Woohyun adds.
So Sungyeol ends up in front of the professor’s desk, half a head taller than the older male, and it’s somehow embarrassing because Sungjong must have lied; there aren’t any students asking for help.
“Are you graduating?” The professor asks, coffee in his left hand, pen in his right. His voice is deeper than Sungyeol would have imagined, but a little higher if compared to his mature looks.
“Yes, I’ve heard that you helped many students in their project and so I came to ask if-”
The professor snickers and sets his cup of coffee down- Sungyeol stops what he was saying.
“I decided not to help them this year,” He flips his fringe to the side, “Look at their pitiful faces outside there.” The professor jabs a finger at the windows, and Sungyeol sees people in his year; begging and begging for help but the voices doesn’t go through the frosted glass.
“But I really can’t sing-”
“I know.” The older male smirks, coffee cup to his lips and pen thrown to Sungyeol. “Write your name down, I’ll see you tomorrow. Here, at the same time you came just now.”
Sungyeol remains baffled while he writes his name in a messy scrawl, 이성열.
The professor grins. “Professor Kim- or Kim Myungsoo. I’ll look forward to working with you.”
They shake hands and Sungyeol nods blankly.
“Don’t tell anyone about this either,” Myungsoo sinks back into his chair, “you’ll be the only student I’m coaching from now.” He winks.
Sungyeol concludes it’s a bad idea when he walks out of the door and gets mobbed by never ending questions, and when he walks out of the door and his heart can’t seem to stop thumping.
∞
“Really?!” Sungjong chirps during lunch the next day, eyes tearing with laughter and almost chokes on the egg sandwich he was eating. “He must really like you then, huh?”
Sungyeol snorts. “Ah, I have no idea why it's me. People have been bothering me since morning. Do I really look like I’m… someone who would use crazy measures to get professor to coach me?” He awkwardly waves to Niel, another classmate; face pained with desperation.
Sungjong's eyes follow Sungyeol's gaze and he laughs. “Who knows?” Sungyeol growls in Sungjong’s direction. “Yes, Professor Kim must really, really like you. Even Niel-hyung's rejected.”
Woohyun sets his tray down, overhearing their conversation and pokes fun at Sungyeol during the rest of lunch.
The rest of the day was bad for Sungyeol.
Different students came up to him to ask how on earth did you manage to convince Professor Kim; why did he coach you and not the others.
Sungyeol wants to punch something real badly, and Myungsoo just happened to turn through this corner of the corridor and Sungyeol’s fist knocks on Myungsoo’s jaw, somewhat hard.
“Aish…”
Sungyeol grabs the older man’s arm and yanks him to his feet, mumbling I’m sorry through pouted lips and eyes never daring to look up. Myungsoo straightens his coat and sighs, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “Come with me.”
The moment they walk into the room Myungsoo locks the door loud, click of the key and he keeps it in his pocket.
“To master vocal singing, you have to master your music notes.” Myungsoo says rather nonchalantly, Sungyeol’s eyes not leaving the purplish red bruise on the older man’s jaw.
“Do you know why every student comes to me for help instead of the other teachers? Male or female, they beg for me to coach them, to help them, to let them know the purpose of our vocal cords.”
Sungyeol sits on a table, eyes focused on the older male and listening ever so intently to the lecture.
“Aside from singing, our vocal cords can do lots of amazing things,” Myungsoo pauses to glance at Sungyeol, smirk forming on one corner of his lips, “And I wish to teach you all that.”
“But my assignment is to compose and sing-”
“That I know,” Myungsoo snaps, frown on his brows. “But you have to know how you can use your voice to sing. That’s my purpose being a professor in here.”
Sungyeol has got nothing to reply to that, and Myungsoo clicks his tongue.
“You want to graduate, don't you?”
“Of course.”
“Then listen to me.”
Sungyeol sits, not moving, eyes following the back of the walking professor.
“Hey,” He starts, eyes darting evasively and blinks nervously (why, he isn’t sure) when the professor turns around. “Can I call you Myungsoo?”
The older male nods, a contemplative look on his face. “Sure, we need to get rid of the formalities anyway.”
Myungsoo peers through the frosted glass, sighs and grins (just the corner of his lips, though) when no one else is outside, and Sungyeol stares.
“No one is outside now.” Myungsoo states, flat, his eyes unreadable, his lips in a strained, strange smile.
“Obviously,” Sungyeol mutters, eyes fixed at the clock on the wall. It’s 6, and he has no idea why he’s sitting around, listening to a professor doing and saying weird things, when he should be at home, sitting around and doing productive things like thinking about his project-right; his project.
Neither speaks, but Sungyeol is dying to ask how he was going to start his project.
That’d be rude, right?
Sungyeol looks up when he hears quiet footsteps (too quiet, really) approaching him- Myungsoo throws his jacket on the floor, and Sungyeol’s eyes widen more than they have ever did when the professor leans close, comes close, those lips pressing close to his own, and the loud, obnoxious pounding of his heart gets in his way of thinking.
Think straight, Lee Sungyeol! He screams in his head, his limbs are frantically trying to get away, but Myungsoo’s grasp is strong and his lips are soft and warm, Sungyeol is tied down, hard.
Sungyeol groans in defeat, Myungsoo chuckles for a moment.
“That was…” Myungsoo trails off; Sungyeol didn’t know what continuation he was expecting. “An E note.” Sungyeol stares. He’s baffled.
“I told you I’d teach you about the notes, didn’t I?” Myungsoo shoots a victorious smirk in Sungyeol’s direction, his hand on Sungyeol’s chest lifts and he pushes against the white floor to stand up.
“Get up, it’s past 6. Go home, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Myungsoo sits on his recliner, coffee in his right hand, left hand waving a bye swiftly.
Sungyeol closes the door silently, cheeks an embarrassing tint of pink.
∞
If not for Sungyeol’s not-so-subtle stares at the professor the next day in assembly, Sungjong wouldn’t have taken Sungyeol’s lunch money away, demanding for the juicy details before he could have it back.
“Nothing,” Sungyeol murmurs after two seconds of hesitation, eying the wad of notes clutched too tight in his brother’s closed fist.
“Oh, look over there!” Sungjong exclaims, pointing to Sungyeol’s right and he turns-Myungsoo. Sungyeol turns away half a second too quick, and Sungjong waves the money in his face, an interested smirk on Sungjong’s lips and Sungyeol curses.
“Nothing~” Sungjong imitates, voice an octave higher, grin a little brighter. It takes Sungyeol three seconds and five deep breaths to stop himself from sending a punch to Sungjong’s pretty face.
Sungyeol decides not to eat lunch anyway, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. He rolls his eyes and sighs in defeat when Sungjong trails slowly behind, that girly voice ringing in his ears.
Classes whirl by like wind, with eighty percent of his classmates in Music Composition already humming to their never-heard new tunes and pencils jotting down lyrics for their work.
Sungyeol is bothered when Woohyun sings too loud, high notes are itching Sungyeol to scream shut up, because he has done nothing for his project. Nothing at all.
Several girls scream, squeal and point to the window; it’s Professor Kim! Sungyeol turns his head on instinct and his cheeks redden to the deepest shade of crimson when Myungsoo meets his eyes and winks; he looks away to cool the heat on his face and the squeals die down, eventually.
“That wink was for me!” Jiae, one of Sungyeol’s classmates, protests against another handful of classmates; in which everyone was insisting that the wink was for them.
Poor bitches, Sungyeol thinks smugly and smirks. That wink was for me.
After the hype died down in the crowd, Sungyeol frowns and groans, burying his face into the solitary space he made with his arms.
Hoya comes around five minutes later, arms and joints popping at weird and sharp angles, humming to his new tune, lip-syncing to his new lyrics. “I even have a dance planned out for this,” He chortles, eager to show-off but Sungyeol grunts in annoyance and his hand comes up to wave Hoya away.
“What’s up with you, Yeol?” Hoya stops, sits on the table beside where Sungyeol was resting his head on.
“Ah get off, your ass stinks.” Sungyeol makes a face, frowns and growls two levels less intimidating than he usually will, ducks back into his arms and Hoya backs off.
There are quiet whispers and speculation about Sungyeol’s strange behaviour, he thinks half of them are wrong anyway, and then Myungsoo comes striding into the classroom, right into Sungyeol’s face.
Myungsoo pokes at the crease on Sungyeol’s forehead, grins a little (just a little) and murmurs words too low for the spying girls to hear.
“My office. At 3. Don’t be late.” He ends off with a coy smirk, leaving open-ended question marks for the on looking crowd. Sungyeol plops back to his original state, all life evaporated from him.
He’d never wanted to hit a girl (or girls) so bad, until Jiae and her group gushed close and asked questions that Sungyeol will never, ever answer.
∞
Sungyeol bites the inside of his cheeks, hesitating before giving the door a tentative knock. There wasn’t response after seconds, so he knocks twice again, and the gentle scent of vanilla almost topples him over as the door swung open.
“Come in,” Myungsoo says.
Heck, Myungsoo never once had emotion in his voice. Never. Sungyeol found it… rather interesting. Now this almost makes Sungyeol wants to discover the emotions the older can hold.
Sungyeol walks in, breathes in the scent of familiar vanilla (too familiar, really) with the slight realization that he’d only been in here once.
So much for familiar.
Sungyeol plops down onto the nearest chair, watching Myungsoo bustle about with his cup of coffee. His eyes follow his back and the older male turns around-Sungyeol gulps and almost chokes, fingers fiddling with the strands of hair on the back of his neck.
“Do you… want coffee?” The professor awkwardly starts, in which Sungyeol nods evasively, eyes roaming at random places, fingers drumming in a silent rhythm on the armrest of the swivelling chair.
Sungyeol’s heartbeats, eventually, slows down and his train of thoughts (what is he thinking about, anyway?) is stopped abruptly when Myungsoo sets the two cups of steaming coffee on the table and gestures Sungyeol over.
The hot coffee burns Sungyeol’s tongue at the first taste, and he tears up a little while slowly sipping the beverage, Myungsoo’s eyes never leaving his face.
Sungyeol’s blushing, he feels it and there’s no way to hide the red on his cheeks this time round. Myungsoo’s slight grin is inviting him to a challenge; to see whose emotions break through first.
He hopes he can lie his way through by saying it was the coffee.
The gentle clink of the china on the glass table makes Sungyeol look up, and Myungsoo stretches his arms.
“Um-” Sungyeol begins, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence that descended, but the rest of his words are cut off by warm lips pressing against his own and hands cupping his face. The cup falls to the ground, the soft carpet muting the expected breaking of the china cup as he makes a small sound of shock, his eyes widening. His first thought is to push Myungsoo away, but the kiss is deep and sensual and the thought disappears like it had never been there. Closing his eyes slowly, Sungyeol gives in and start kissing back.
Myungsoo takes it as a good sign and leans in some more, pushing Sungyeol deeper into the chair, which squeaks in retaliation to the additional weight. Sungyeol whimpers into his mouth, just as Myungsoo's tongue prods his bottom lip for entrance. It doesn't take much more than that for Sungyeol to comply, parting his lips and letting Myungsoo explore his mouth.
It's hot, Sungyeol thinks to himself, and as though Myungsoo read his mind (He probably can, Sungyeol thinks now), his hand snakes beneath his shirt. Sungyeol gasps and breaks the kiss at this. He knows where this is going, but he's not sure what’s the point for this is, but Myungsoo doodles circles (out of shape, Sungyeol feels) on his exposed skin at the base of his shirt with his fingers, and Sungyeol throws whatever worries and cares he has left into the wind as Myungsoo skilfully pulls off the younger male's shirt.
The rest of their clothes follow suit, but it doesn't make the room any less hotter than before. Myungsoo leaves a trail of kisses down Sungyeol's neck and fleeting touches on the rest of his skin. He's not sure if it's him or Myungsoo making all these noises, mind a haze from the lust. It's not enough, Sungyeol realises, and he lifts his hips up to brush with Myungsoo's body, moaning at the friction.
“D note. How low can you get?” Myungsoo snarls teasingly, hands trailing slowly up Sungyeol’s torso, the soft feathery touches making Sungyeol let out a low growl.
Myungsoo pauses at that, and for a moment Sungyeol thinks he's done something wrong. He tenses when he sees Myungsoo walk away to his desk, but the other man returns quickly enough, a bottle in his hand. The grin on his face tells Sungyeol he's not angry, but he's now more worried about the object in Myungsoo's hand.
“C.”
Myungsoo pulls him out from his chair before crashing their lips together once more and backing Sungyeol up against the wall.
The older male does his best to prepare him, not wanting to hurt the other boy-as much emotionless he had been. He tries it out with one finger first, slowly coaxing it into Sungyeol. Sungyeol's breath hitches in his throat at the cold touch, but doesn't stop him. It's uncomfortable, but it's not painful. He nudges Myungsoo to continue and Myungsoo does, adding a second finger. He parts them to spread Sungyeol a bit more, and Sungyeol lets out a small moan. The third finger follows and soon enough, Sungyeol's hips are bucking for Myungsoo's touch.
Myungsoo slowly pulls his fingers out and Sungyeol whimpers. He feels empty all of a sudden, and one part of him wishes for Myungsoo's fingers to be inside him again. But the older male only turns him around so that his arms are on the wall.
Sungyeol figures out what's about to happen just before it does, Myungsoo's length pressing against his entrance. He cries out when Myungsoo pushes in all the way slowly, trying his best to get accustomed to it. Myungsoo sucks on the skin on his nape to help him, one hand on his hip and one hand wrapped around Sungyeol's erection.
After a while, the pain subsides and Sungyeol nods for Myungsoo to move. Myungsoo tries thrusting in shallowly and the moans Sungyeol makes goes straight to his cock. He starts moving faster, his hand that is wrapped around Sungyeol moving in the same rhythm as his thrusts. The room is filled with the sound of their harsh breaths and grunts and it doesn't take long for them both to reach their limit.
Sungyeol moans loudly as he climaxes, tightening around Myungsoo and that does it for the older male. Myungsoo pushes himself deep in one last time before he comes as well, hips bucking.
The slow chime of the last school bell shakes Sungyeol up from his euphoria and Myungsoo sits up, in his naked glory until Sungyeol tosses him his large jacket, dresses up and leaves, not missing out the soft chuckle right before the closes the door behind him, vanilla dissipating into the evening sun.
∞
Sungyeol throws his backpack on his bed grudgingly, sits on the swivelling chair and hisses in pain. It’s been three days and his private lessons hadn’t been doing him any good. At all.
He pulls the cloth covering the piano keyboard away and turns the switch on. Danger, he thinks hard, and his fingers fly across the keys, notes combining to a slow melody. His eyes flutter open quickly; hands grabbing a notebook and a pencil and he begins to jot down whatever he remembers from the medley just now.
Sungyeol closes his eyes again and tries to conjure up a tune in his head, but the memories of Myungsoo and him doing that comes clogging up his head and he snarls in frustration, fingers pressing on the ivory keys a little too hard and the melody that comes out this time sounds more jagged and quick.
He scribbles the notes down, his heart thumping from the dirty, dirty memories and plays the entire thing again.
Sungyeol’s eyes light up a little and then he bites his lips eagerly, filling in the lyrics for the part he’d finished with just now.
The whispered secrets while looking at a clock
My heart’s desperate story
It’s okay to harm my form
The more you demand from me I like it
Call out my name
The pencil falls onto the wooden table as Sungyeol sighs. The lyrics came to his mind like flowing water; so smooth and beautiful but all he thinks of is how much he wants to see Myungsoo again, how much he craves for his touch and the things he would do, if Myungsoo asks him to.
The phone beside his notebook vibrates and Sungyeol turns to look.
Are you free tomorrow? Woohyun and I are going to catch the new movie.
Sungyeol realizes it’s the Thanksgiving holidays this weekend. He quickly replies Hoya with a “No” without explanation, but before sending, he sighed and typed in a quick excuse.
No. Got to work on project. You guys have fun.
He turns back to his notebook to brainstorm until his phone beeps again.
Not done yet? LOL okay have fun
Sungyeol throws his phone on his bed, annoyed by how easy the others are taking this to be and because he has zero ideas how he should continue his piece.
He thinks about the times he’d spent with Myungsoo; and being completely honest to himself, the only thought that fits with his memories is: he’s dangerous.
And he sits up on his bed, wondering if he should just compose a whole song for… him.
It’s dumb, but he does it anyway.
The switch of the piano is thrown on again and the soft twinklings of the keys make Sungyeol feel comfortable. He thinks of the way his heart pounds when Myungsoo smirks, and his fingers press on the wrong keys but it turns out okay anyway.
The notes are written on the notebook in a rush again and he focuses on the lyrics.
This part’s faster and more edgy. He thinks, I’ll make this part the chorus.
He stares at the wall, the table lamp, the poster by his bed, the clock and groans.
I’m scared that my shining heart would be revealed
Through the gaps between my fingers
It’s too much for my heart, it’s sorrowful
Hold on a little longer and wait for me
You and I, it can’t be yet
I want to hurry the clock more but
In the future in which you are in
Call out my name
He erases and corrects; erases and corrects until it looks the way he wants it to be.
The clock announces it is 2AM in the night, and Sungyeol clears his throat to sing through the lyrics once.
He ends the last note with a yawn and then shuts the notebook and covers the keyboard with a slight grin.
∞
Sungyeol decides to pay the school a visit in the morning the next day, chilly winds greeting him in empty corridors and deserted hallways.
He thinks he needs to sleep early in the future because his eyes are playing tricks on him; aren’t they? He can’t be looking at Kim fucking Myungsoo at 8AM on a holiday, in school-
“Lee Sungyeol. What are you doing in school?”
Oh no. Now even his ears are hearing things. Sungyeol blinks rapidly and shakes his head in an attempt to wake up but Myungsoo walks towards him with a worried but amused expression.
Sungyeol pinches himself and flinches. So this isn’t a dream.
“Are you okay?” Myungsoo grins a little more sincere than the past few times they’ve been together and Sungyeol manages a nod with wide eyes.
The melody of his piece runs past his mind briefly and he remembers why he’s here for.
“Why are you in school too, Professor Kim?”
“Homework marking.” Myungsoo smirks. “But I don’t see why you are here.”
“I’m looking for inspiration for my graduating piece,” Sungyeol explains quickly.
Myungsoo poses by the nearest wall and winks. “Am I inspiring enough?”
Sungyeol doesn’t reply.
“I take silence as yes, usually.” Myungsoo teases.
The taller male huffs a reply and walks away, leaving the teacher behind.
Sungyeol remembers that the deadline for the first check will be the day right after the Thanksgiving holidays, and he managed to record his piece-right up to where he stopped last night, so he drops the CD off on Professor Jang’s table with a little note attached, his name scribbled on it.
He rushes home quickly after the school visit, sits on his bed and practices his keys for the piece. His thoughts fly by quickly as the tune sooths his mind and unconsciously, he continues playing even though the notes aren’t there anymore.
The music stops at an abrupt pitch and he picks up the pencil on the floor and flips his notebook open.
The times when I first peeked around
You and I were together
I liked the you who played with me
When I asked, you liked it as well
What is my name?
Sungyeol plays and plays and decides that the chorus fits in right after this part, so he jots that down again.
I’m scared that my shining heart would be revealed
Through the gaps between my fingers
It’s too much for my heart, it’s sorrowful
Hold on a little longer and wait for me
You and I, it can’t be yet
I want to hurry the clock more but
In the future in which you are in
Call out my name
R u working on your project now? Composing a song to dear professor? ㅋㅋ
Sungyeol snorts at Sungjong’s text message when he’s just a room beside, so he strolls over to the younger’s room and throws his pillow at him, earning a yell.
“Hyung, are you okay with your project? You haven’t been going out with your friends and only cooping in your room…” Sungjong pouts; hot chocolate in his hands and Sungyeol snatches it up to take a sip.
Sungjong whines profusely and Sungyeol laughs, returning it back.
“I’m doing fine, since I have inspiration…” Sungyeol pats Sungjong’s head, eyes glassy and Sungjong snaps to bring him back to reality.
“If by inspiration you mean your dear professor, go on then hyung,” Sungjong comments with a chuckle, yelping when Sungyeol smacks him on the head.
“I’m going over,” Sungyeol sings, closing the door too loudly behind him.
The conversation with Sungjong has definitely, in a way or another, taken away some stress in his mind and he sits in front of his piano, fingers ready.
He thinks about what could happen in the future with Myungsoo, his tinkling laughter and his teasing tone, thinks about the things he’d been taught about vocal cords and how amazing Myungsoo’s are, and his fingers move unconsciously.
In a blink of an eye, I’ll be an adult
You know me, right? You remember me, right?
Yeah, that strange child
I really like your image that shines in between my fingers
Sungyeol doesn’t really know what comes after that so he reuses the tune for the chorus and alters the lyrics, the waiting of the future and the anticipation of how things will turn out, the sick twist of fate and the waiting hands of time.
As I spin them with my fingertips,
Hands of the clock, please run
Fly just a little faster
I close my eyes and cast a spell
You and I, we still have a little left
I don’t know how many days or how much time
In the future in which you are there
If I happen to past by
To help me recognize you
Call out my name
He ends the song with a low tone; a depressing tone, lightly writes down the notes and leaves the piano uncovered, just for today.
∞
Sungyeol wakes up on Sunday to find out that his first draft did well; unless Professor Jang’s message was a lie, and he sends his final song over to him by email and waits eagerly for the remarks.
He hums a happy tune and then hums his own, chewing on toast and sipping on black Americano, Sungjong watching warily but cheerfully, urging Sungyeol on and congratulating him for the results.
“Yah, so are your lessons with Professor Kim still on? Since you’re done with your project…” Sungjong asks casually, and Sungyeol drops the cube of sugar into his coffee.
A sigh. “I don’t know either.”
Sungjong sets his mug down on the table and leaves the table, fluffy slippers making soft sounds against the floor.
Sungyeol drops by the school later in the afternoon again, betting against himself if Myungsoo was in school.
And he was.
Glasses hanging low on his nose and eyes focused on the thick pile of work on his table, Myungsoo probably looked way too good to be a teacher.
“Um…” Sungyeol mutters, knocking on the door uncertainly, and Myungsoo looks up with an amused expression.
“Why are you here again?” Myungsoo removes his glasses in a fluent motion and sits up straight.
“I kind of finished with my graduation project so…” Sungyeol bites his lips unsteadily, “So I thought maybe our lessons could stop now? Since I’m not really interested in singing or whatnot-”
Myungsoo pulls Sungyeol by the wrist and cuts him off, lips meeting midair and Sungyeol finds it harder and harder to pull away because Myungsoo’s holding him too tight and gravity wants him to fall down, not away.
“Why?” Myungsoo asks, but not giving Sungyeol time to reply; lips sealing Sungyeol’s and prying the younger’s lips open, feeling him squirm beneath.
“Aish,” Sungyeol exclaims, rolling off Myungsoo to the soft carpeted floor, “I don’t know,” He murmurs, “Do you do this to every student of yours?”
An abrupt silence follows after the question; Sungyeol turns to see Myungsoo staring hard at the ceiling. “Who knows?” He faces the younger and grins.
“Tch, I’m not coming back here anymore,” Sungyeol replies nonchalantly, dusting his pants with his hands and walks out of the room.
He takes a last deep inhale of the sweet plain vanilla and closes the door behind.
∞
It’s been weeks since Sungyeol completed his work and last seen Myungsoo, he’s been smiling a lot more in class now his burden is removed, and even watches Hoya dance to his piece.
There’re three days left to the revealing of the results and a showcase for the top scorers, and Sungyeol’s so nervous he can’t sleep so Sungjong has to pet his hair every night until they both fall asleep.
On the day of the revelation, Sungyeol makes a silent prayer that he’d get a decent score because he thinks his piece was quite well-done, and when they were gathered in the hall, Sungjong mouths a hwaiting and Sungyeol smiles.
“First place goes to…” The teacher-in-charge, Mr Lee, trails off, the thick layer of tension in the air and he clears his throat. “Kim Sunggyu of Class 1, with his piece ‘Because’; and a score of 97. Congratulations to this talented young man amongst all of us!”
The male with slits for eyes and a bright smile goes up on the stage to receive his prize and a certificate and goes off, stumbling on the steps.
“Don’t forget that only the top ten scorers will get prizes and only the top three will get to perform at the year-end Christmas showcase. By performing at the showcase, you’re exposing yourself to good and renowned institutes and might earn a scholarship to their school.”
“And now for the second place… Nam Woohyun of Class 3, with his piece ‘Time’; also a high score of 94. Congratulations!”
Sungyeol congratulates the shocked Woohyun beside him and gives him a hug, laughing as Woohyun almost falls when walking towards the stage.
“I’d like to thank a lot of people, but there isn’t time so I’ll thank you all personally!” Woohyun rushes in a take of air and blinks, tears in his eyes and Hoya yells don’t cry.
Woohyun rushes down the stage after receiving his prizes and huddles in his seat beside Sungyeol, sobbing.
“Third place! This piece was thought to be a fresh and interesting tune by the teachers and judges, with intriguing and bitter lyrics.” Sungyeol clasps his palms together and focuses. “Lee Sungyeol, of Class 3! His catchy piece ‘You & I’ got himself a high score of 91! Congratulations!”
The hall burst into another frenzy of applause and Sungyeol stands up with his legs feeling like jelly.
“Go on!” Woohyun and Hoya urge, and he moves to the stage like a dummy.
“Thank you… All my friends… Sungjong… Professor Jang… Thank you.”
He clutches the certificate to his heart and sits in his seat.
Sungyeol doesn’t remember who comes next but Hoya’s got the fifth and nothing else really matters.
∞
“Five minutes to go!” Someone yells from behind, and Sungyeol sits uneasily in front of the piano, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his white suit and wondering if his hair, gelled up, looks okay.
Sunggyu and Woohyun have already finished their first turns performing and it’s his now. He takes a deep breath and watches another person test the microphone, listening to the shrill voice countdown to the opening of the curtains.
Sungyeol stands up and bows to the audience. There are many people present, a lot of people. He grins tentatively and sits back on the velvet chair.
His worries and thoughts and admiration fly away the moment his fingers touch the cold ivory keys, his voice fascinating himself because it sounds smooth, confident and soft-nothing like something Lee Sungyeol was ever capable of.
He sings and he doesn’t need the notes anymore, his fingers pressing on the correct keys as he scans through the crowd.
Kim Myungsoo… He’s nowhere to be seen. He should be here, right? Sungyeol’s piece is majorly inspired by him (heck, even written for him) and whether the professor knows it or not, he needs to…
Sungyeol finishes the piece in a sorrowful tone, the way the song was portrayed to be, and bows to the audience again, revelling in the echoes of the claps and cheers.
“Gotta run somewhere,” Sungyeol whispers to the stage noonas, throwing the coat of his suit to the floor and makes a mad dash to the professor’s office.
He knocks on the door like usual but no one answers, so he unlocks the door with a click (it isn’t even locked,) and walks in.
The sweet scent of vanilla is still present in the still air, but the cause of the vanilla isn’t. Instead, there’s a letter on the table with Sungyeol’s Korean name written on it.
Lee Sungyeol.
I’m hoping you done well for your finals, seeing how great of a teacher I am…
I’m gone now, if no one told you, I’ve migrated to another place to be a teacher in a university.
Let’s see how things go, no? What if you come to my school?
So I won’t tell you where I’m going to.
Good luck for you future.
Kim Myungsoo
Sungyeol punches the wall with a growl, letter folded neatly in his pocket.
“Thank you.” He whispers to the letter, softly.
∞
Sungyeol smacks the back of Sungjong’s head lightly when the younger whines, pulling on his sleeve because Sungyeol’s leaving.
“Hyung, get on your laptop daily okay? We need to talk everyday or I’ll get lonely.” Sungjong pouts and frowns. “Also, come back every time you can, okay? Buy lots of things back for you adorable brother~”
“I know, I know,” Sungyeol laughs, ruffling Sungjong’s hair and they say their goodbyes. Sungyeol can see Sungjong’s about to cry so he pulls his luggage into the departure gate fast and waves his last goodbye to Woohyun, Hoya, Sungjong, Sunggyu… everyone.
Sungyeol manages to revise his English on the plane and making sure he can hold a conversation and understand what others are talking about.
His scholarship letter in his left hand, his shades in his right; with a luggage behind him, Sungyeol stops in front of the gate of an art school in California, taking a deep breath before strolling in.
He turns left to his dormitory and his shades fall to the floor when he sees a face too familiar.
“Lee Sungyeol,” The voice calls out, familiar, too familiar.
“Kim Myungsoo…”
fin.