Oh, the timing is cruel
I need and don't want to need
More than I should
It's starts just like everything in Yoochun's life seems to start, a mistake. Just like the teaching job, the apartment he lives in and the boy who rushes into his lesson 20 minutes late, apologizing and bowing profusely. It's harmless, innocent in fact, except somewhere during the 5 months into the school year he's pushing the boy up against the door of the music storeroom cupboard and kissing the air out of his lungs and not for the first time, at that. Not even the second, somewhere nearing the 20th.
“Fuck, Changmin,” Yoochun growls and Changmin growls right back with a mocking tone but he still circles his arms around Yoochun's neck so he has a strong enough hold to hook his legs around Yoochun's waist. Yoochun moves his hands then, down to cup Changmin's ass and to hold him up, lips still attached. “Fuck, I shouldn't be doing this, such a mistake.”
“Shush, you say that every time.” Changmin chokes out and threads his fingers through Yoochun's hair, rubbing his scalp as he tries to slow the kiss down so he can actually breath, so he can feel it instead of trying to keep up with it. “I should go catch my bus,” he manages between a kiss, “Junsu's going to be wondering where I am.”
“You should go catch your bus,” Yoochun agrees but shows no sign of moving, just presses Changmin harder against the door as Changmin's tongue starts to work on his neck, “17, fuck, how are you 17?”
“Blame my parents.” Changmin retorts, breathless as he lets his head fall back against the door and Yoochun laughs, finally loosening his grip and letting Changmin's leg drop to the floor. It's silent as Changmin reaches for his blazer on the floor, pulling it over his rumpled white school shirt and running a hand through his hair. “And just so you know,” Changmin adds as Yoochun leans back against one of the shelves, his shoulder knocking into a box of plastic recorders, “this is never a mistake, you're not forcing me into it and if you were I'd beat your ass down. My brother has friends, you know?” He finishes with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a fake glare.
“Yeah,” Yoochun breathes with a hint of a laugh, it quells the ache in his chest of the fact he's love sick over a boy nearly 10 years younger than him but it doesn't completely diminish it, “yeah.”
“See you tomorrow.” Changmin leans forward and presses their lips together briefly, Yoochun's eyes falling shut for a brief moment.
“Bright and early, Sunshine.” Yoochun mumbles against his lips and Changmin snorts, tries to hide the blush under the collar of his shirt before he unlocks the door to the store closet, leaving swiftly. Sinking to the ground, Yoochun buries his head in his hands with a whimper, the movement of his body sending the box of recorders off the shelf and right on top of him. Karma, he thinks.
-
“Yunho,” Yoochun whispers down the phone from where he's sprawled out on the floor of his bathroom, the whisper being completely meaningless, “I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.”
“The right thing?” Yunho questions and Yoochun can hear him shuffling around, tripping over things and cursing quietly.
“You know, teaching, being in the presence of impressionable young people...” not only fucking one of my students, but actually falling in love with him at the same time.
“If you want my opinion,” Jaejoong's voice rings out from what seems far away and there's a scuffle as the phone is being snatched, “you smoke,” he starts, “you drink, you don't wash for days unless prompted, you forget to eat, you watch too much porn and you get the most ridiculous haircuts. You're a role model for all ages and genders, I wish you would've been my teacher.”
“I wish I was your teacher too,” Yoochun states, a scowl set on your face, “so I could get your ass in line.”
“Oh baby.” Jaejoong giggles down the line and Yoochun frowns, hangs up and throws the phone into the bath as he turns onto his side, pressing his cheek against the cold tiled floor.
-
They take the biggest risk when Changmin bikes the 8 miles to Yoochun's tiny bungalow house on the outskirts of town, hopefully far away from anyone that goes to the school.
“Looking very inconspicuous today.” Yoochun greets as usual, pulling the door open further as Changmin drops his bike haphazardly onto Yoochun's front lawn and shuffles inside the house, kicking his shoes off.
Changmin's wearing sunglasses, all black from head to toe and a beanie pulled over his hair, parts of which are sticking out and Yoochun reaches out a hand to tuck the hair behind Changmin's ear, follows his hand to kiss Changmin as well. Thinks, this is why I risk it, when Changmin breathes out through his nose and leans into the fingers brushing against his jaw, this is why I can't give up.
They make it to Yoochun's bedroom at the back of the house and Changmin knows his place, knows to just straight away flop down on the bed, eyes shut with content. He wiggles around for a second, tangling himself in the blankets and throwing off his ridiculous disguise, reaching out a long leg to poke Yoochun's thigh with his toe.
“Time to ravish me yet?” Changmin questions, accompanied with a smirk and he manages to pull his arms out from the blanket to let them fall behind his head. Stretched out on the mattress like that, hair mused from his wiggling session, Yoochun finds it hard to say no.
“No,” he says anyway, turning away, “you have to listen to this song first, it's bangin'.”
“... Bangin'?” Changmin chokes out, already laughing so hard he's nearly off the edge of the bed, “bangin'? Are you actually fucking kidding me? Oh my God you're so old.”
“Hey, I'll have you know I'm totally with it.” Yoochun scowls, wonders when 26 classified you as old. Maybe I should introduce him to Jaejoong, Yoochun thinks, show him what old really is.
“With it? Oh my God, kill me.” He's crying by now, clutching onto the edge of Yoochun's mattress, mismatched eyes and all. Despite the fact Yoochun's blatantly being made fun of, his heart swells over Changmin's laughter.
“Fine, get out of my house, go hang out with your young friends who use words like sick, ride BMX bikes and listen to Justin Timberlake.” Changmin laughs even harder at that, finding the strength to crawl over to Yoochun who's spinning from side to side on his computer chair. Yoochun's still glaring once Changmin pushes off the bed and sidles towards the chair, placing a knee either side of Yoochun's legs, straddling him.
“I love you.” Changmin murmurs with a grin against Yoochun's lips, cupping Yoochun's jaw and Yoochun forces down the, you're too young to know what love is, because he remembers being 17, remembers the girl who he kissed in the back-seat of his car before she moved away and left Yoochun without his first love. He kisses back instead, Changmin still laughing about before and Yoochun laps up his laughter eagerly, dragging his tongue along the roof of Changmin's mouth, pulling back to nip at his jaw and Changmin sighs.
“Fuck, my legs are numb,” Changmin groans a second later, “shit, ow ow ow.” He continues and Yoochun pushes him off onto the floor, laughing.
“Stop swearing, it's unattractive.” He scolds because being a teacher has taken it's toll but Changmin just laughs as Yoochun tries to step over him to get out of the room, grabbing his leg.
“Fuck,” Changmin says because he's a pain in the ass and then adds, “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” for good luck. Yoochun glares and points a finger at Changmin in warning as he shakes his leg free and makes his way out of the room. There's a silence once Yoochun leaves the room and Changmin coughs, spreads out on the floor, inhales deeply and screams out, “cock sucker!”
“You rang?” Yoochun screams back, bent over the sink and that sends Changmin off again, has him doubled over and filling Yoochun's house with his laughter.
-
When Professor Lee approaches him in the staff room on Friday morning, Yoochun knows what it's about before he even opens his mouth.
“Park,” He says, voice low as he glances over his shoulder to check if there's any other teachers in the room, “I know.”
“You know?” Yoochun prompts, but feigns nonchalance even though the sugar misses his cup as he tries to pour it in, he goes to wipe it off and manages to spill the coffee grounds next to his elbow and he curses, still not looking up.
“About you and the boy,” He says, voice low once again and it sounds strained, “the student.”
“Oh.” Yoochun chokes, keeps his head low and attempts to spoon more sugar into his drink. His hand's shake.
-
Changmin's hanging upside down on his sofa when he gets out of the shower, text book in hand and hair brushing the floor.
“Sigh,” he says, not giving an explanation for why he's suddenly turned up in Yoochun's house, he just lifts his textbook away from his face so he can see Yoochun, “fully clothed? No fun.”
“Sigh,” Yoochun imitates, raising the pitch of his voice and throwing the damp towel he'd been drying his hair with at Changmin, what are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighbourhood... Thought I'd stop by, sit on your couch, eat your food and do my homework.”
“Fair enough.” Yoochun forces out with a smile, doesn't think about the moving van that's coming on Tuesday or the room being cleared in Yunho's house for him, the boxes waiting in his garage to be filled.
“This homework might take a long time, I'm like 6 weeks behind.” Changmin glares at the book as if that's going to help.
“Jesus Christ, how are you 6 weeks behind?”
“There's a reason procrastination and masturbation rhyme.” Changmin sing-songs with a grin and Yoochun tries not to think about Changmin arched off his bed, teeth biting into the back of his left hand to stop any noise as his right hand curls around him and his hips thrust up so slow, thumb dragging over his slit and--
“Fuck.” Yoochun manages, throat suddenly dry and he suddenly really, really needs some water. He specifically doesn't think about the staff room and the stale smell of coffee on Professor Lee's breath. Except it's the first thing he sees when he closes his eyes and he can hear his words playing in his head, can feel the way his hands shook.
Changmin leans closer to his text book, mouthing the problem over and over again and Yoochun clenches his fingers, casually passing a hand over Changmin's shoulders as he walks through the living room. It's the tight tug at the pit of his stomach when Changmin looks up with such fucking innocent eyes that has him breathing out a sigh, speaking before he even thinks. His voice rasps.
“You should leave.” Yoochun says and it's only as he hears it that he realizes he's saying it.
“What?” Changmin asks, just a whisper and it tugs harder at the pit of Yoochun's stomach.
“You...” He starts, his lip between his teeth as he runs a hand through his hair, “you make my life so complicated. I just,” he shakes his head, trying to clear his throat, “I just don't need it right now, you know? I've got a stable job and good enough pay, I don't need something to get in the way of that.” Yoochun can see the moment it sinks in for Changmin and it hurts, hurts so fucking much and the only thing Yoochun wants to do is take it back, shut his mouth and never say it. Kiss Changmin instead, maybe.
“It isn't just me doing this,” Changmin spits out but he's already up and shoving his books together, snatching his bag off the floor, “I didn't just wake up one day and go 'you know what would be fucking awesome? If I fell in love with my worn out, dead end music teacher who's, fuck, what? Nearly 10 years older than me, yeah that would be fucking perfect.'”
“You're not in love,” Yoochun counters, his throat growing tighter with each word and Changmin hunches his shoulders further, shoving his last text book into his bag and pushing past Yoochun towards the door, “this isn't love.”
“Well I guess that's sorted then,” Changmin huffs as he forces his feet into his sneakers, throwing his bag over his shoulder and fumbling with the lock on the door, “maybe I'll go find some girl my age who I can actually be seen in public with, one that I don't have to lie to my parents and friends about and lets just hope someday I might like her as much as I do for you.”
“Yeah.” Is all Yoochun can choke out as he follows Changmin out into the hallway, pushing Changmin's hands away after a second of him fighting with the lock and opening the door for him.
“Have a nice life, oh wait I mean lie,” Changmin says, so bitter sweet and he's already halfway down the drive when he shouts back, “fuck you.”
Yoochun manages to slam the door before his hands start shaking, before he bites his lip so hard he can't feel it any more, before he realizes what he's actually done. Sinking down, back against the door he hangs his head and takes a deep breath, thinks this is for the best, this is for the best and he can barely hear the soft knock on the door over the mantra playing in his head.
With a deep breath that can barely pass the lump in his throat, Yoochun pushes off the door, fumbles with the lock just like Changmin had a second ago and pulls the door open. Changmin's standing there, eyes downcast, hand clenching the strap of his shoulder bag.
“I forgot my keys.” He mutters, eyes downcast and then Yoochun's pulling him back into the house, kicking the door shut and slamming Changmin against it and kissing him. Kissing him so hard he can feel it in his toes, can feel it in his numb fingers and Changmin's dropping his bag, fingers clenching in thin air until they find purchase in the back of Yoochun's sweater.
“I'm sorry,” Yoochun murmurs right against Changmin's lips, “I'm so sorry, I love you.” Changmin pushes him back, their lips still attached and it takes a second for Yoochun to realize Changmin's leading him back into his bedroom, their feet catching and they stumble more than once.
Yoochun fucks him so slow, blankets over them, lights off and Changmin's ankles digging down into Yoochun's shoulders. Face buried in the crook of Changmin's neck, whispering everything and nothing into the expanse of skin as Changmin digs the tips of his fingers into Yoochun's biceps.
“Chun,” Changmin whimpers, whole body shaking with overexertion and he winds his fingers tight in Yoochun's hair, “Chunnie, fuck.” He drags out a whine, pushing his head back into the pillow and pushing his hips down into Yoochun's, his fingers fumbling over Yoochun's damp skin until he grips the blanket that covers them, pulls it tight around them.
Yoochun cums silently, pushed in up to the hilt, shoulders pressed tight together and open mouth against Changmin's skin. If Changmin notices the tears on his skin, he doesn't say anything just arches off the bed as a hand wraps around him, short, tight moans leaving his mouth until he sags, head lolling back.
“I should go home.” Changmin whispers, curled up on his side facing away from Yoochun but he's asleep in a second, chest rising and falling slowly. From next to him, flat on his back and skin still vibrating, Yoochun blinks up at the ceiling, listening to the soft gushes of air that leave Changmin.
Shifting onto his side he shuffles closer to the sleeping form, pressing lightly against Changmin's back and pulling the blanket up higher, placing it carefully over his shoulders. With a lingering hand on Changmin's side, he lets the other one fall to his hair, stroking trembling fingers through the damp strands at the base of his neck. Hesitating, he lifts an arm over Changmin's waist, slowly letting it fall around him with painful accuracy, curling his fingers under Changmin and letting his head settle on the pillow right behind Changmin's neck, nosing at the hair on the back of his head.
He places a careful kiss there, heart melting and falling out of his chest onto Changmin's sweat damp back.
“I love you more than I should,” Yoochun whispers into the back of Changmin's neck, into the hair that curls over itself and rests against the notches of Changmin's spine, “so much more than is good for me.”
-
“Fuck!” Yoochun wakes up with a start, chest cold and Changmin rushing around his room, “fuck I'm so grounded. So, so grounded.” He trips over trying to get into his jeans and Yoochun's eyes are bleary as he watches Changmin.
“Where're you going?” He mumbles thickly, eyes squinting at the alarm clock on his bedside table as he reaches out a hand for Changmin.
“It's 11 pm and it's Sunday,” Changmin offers as an explanation, shoving his rolled up socks into his back pocket and pulling his hoody on, “I have to go, I'm sorry.”
With uncoordinated feet he shuffles over to the bed, leaning over it to press a brief kiss to Yoochun's lips but Yoochun's awake enough to cup the back of Changmin's neck and deepen the kiss.
“So grounded,” Changmin gasps as he finally manages to pull himself off and make for the door, not trusting himself to stay in the room any longer, “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early, Sunshine.” Yoochun answers, but the front door is already slamming and he doesn't realize he's crying until a tear pools at the corner of his mouth. When he licks it away he can't taste anything.
-
Yoochun's not at his desk on Monday morning, not in the staff room either and when Changmin slips in the question to Professor Lee during afternoon registration all he gets is this look that has Changmin swallowing the bile that rises in his throat.
-
It takes 10 minutes to get to Yoochun's house and by the time he gets there, there's sweat all down the back of his school t-shirt and his blazers curled up and shoved clumsily into the bottom of his bag, sleeve dragging along the floor.
“What are you doing here?” Yoochun questions and it almost sounds like he was expecting Changmin to come, practically waiting for it.
“Why are there so many boxes?” Pants out as soon as he gets into the house, ducking under Yoochun's arm that was stopping him, “someone might think you're moving.”
“Funny that.” Yoochun laughs so bitter, leaning over one of the boxes to tape it up, back turned towards Changmin and hand fumbling over the sharpie as he reaches for it.
“Okay,” Changmin mutters, watches as Yoochun delves a hand right into his chest, pulls out Changmin's heart and breaks it right down the middle, “Okay.”
“I'm sorry,” Yoochun whispers and Changmin closes his eyes as if that will drown out the sound of the world crumbling at his feet, “I'm so sorry.” Changmin shakes his head, eyes wide and he takes a step back, two more until he's out the door, suppressing the please that wants to escape his mouth. The doors still open and Yoochun's back is still facing him when he grabs his bike, his foot messing the peddle twice before he's off down the road with blurred vision.
-
“Mum, I'm not feeling too good.” Changmin mumbles the next morning and he knows he looks like death, bags under his eyes and hair plastered to one side of his face.
“What's wrong?” She asks, the concern in her eyes making Changmin feel queasy as she brushes a hand over his cheek. My heart, Changmin wants to say, Mum, I can't feel anything, I can't feel my heart.
“Stomach ache,” Changmin lies, rubbing his palm over his stomach just for the effect, “I'll go in at lunch, just please let me have the morning off.” Her thumb rubs across his cheekbone and it's too familiar, has him recoiling and retreating back to his room, pushing under the covers and curling in on himself.
-
He misses the first fifteen minutes of lunch, making a beeline for the benches outside as soon he gets in, uniform a mess.
“Hey best friend.” He says once he's found Junsu, dropping onto the bench next to him and circling his arms around his waist, pressing his cheek against Junsu's back.
“Finally talking to me, huh?” Junsu questions and it's not said in a spiteful tone but it still hurts Changmin, has him tightening his grip around Junsu's waist, “are you going to tell me what's been going on for the past few months?”
Trying to see Changmin's face, Junsu squirms in his seat and attempts to twist around but Changmin just clings tighter, closing his eyelids on too damp eyes. It's the first question Junsu asks every time and Changmin's answer is always an excuse, a lie, a nothing but this time he hums a flat note, pressing his nose into Junsu's spine.
“Once it stops hurting, yeah.” He mumbles and the line of Junsu's back softens then, a hand reaching behind to run through Changmin's hair.
-
They go into town after school and Junsu's broken his car, once again, forcing them to walk and it's only a block away that Changmin realizes the street he's going to have to walk on, the house he's going to walk past. Changmin keeps his head high past the moving van, the dent of his handlebars in Yoochun's lawn and the doorbell with Changmin's finger prints on it, Junsu keeping up a string of chatter that Changmin only nods to occasionally.
The front door opens and Changmin doesn't even look back.
“Keeping up old man?” Changmin laughs breathlessly, falling down onto the bed beside Yoochun, chest heaving.
“Fuck, barely.” Yoochun groans, eyes half lidded and bursts of short air escaping his lungs.
“Don't worry,” Changmin grins, turning onto his side and curling to fit his mouth onto Yoochun's shoulder, “I won't trade you in for a new model, but we might have to invest in viagra.”
“Ass.” Yoochun growls and Changmin bites down so hard that Yoochun has to hold his nose to get him off, squawking indignantly and pushing him off the bed.
first angst \o/ i hope it hurts to read as much as it hurt to write :Dv self beta-ed, so tell me if there are any mistakes.