Post #10
Apologies for the late posting anons; mod was a bit drunk last night and didn't want to create a HTML mess in the post so here it is! Next post should run on time by KST.
Fics ( #9)
Needle and Thread Infinite, Hoya/Sungyeol
Views (and what we view) EXO, Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Speak JYJ, Yoochun/Jaejoong
From Afar; Reply 1997, Joonhee/Yoonjae
(Stop) ( Read more... )
Fics ( #9)
Needle and Thread Infinite, Hoya/Sungyeol
Views (and what we view) EXO, Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Speak JYJ, Yoochun/Jaejoong
From Afar; Reply 1997, Joonhee/Yoonjae
(Stop) ( Read more... )
He should learn to refuse; stop glutting the boy’s ego, but rehearsed words and reasoning die at the back of his throat every time Jongin does a lick of his lips and drags a thumb across his wrist.
“Ah, fuck-”
The way Jongin’s face contorts when he rubs harder against Luhan makes him want to punch and kiss it at the same time. Luhan settles for biting his shoulder instead, prompting Jongin’s hand palming their erections to twitch as he lets out a satisfying hiss. He traces the sunken pattern of teeth with a coy smile.
Jongin huffs into his ear, voice gruff, “If that’s how you want to play…”
He grabs Luhan’s ass and digs his fingertips into the crack, grazing the ring of muscles. A tiny yelp slips past Luhan’s open mouth, somewhere in the ruffled mess of his hair he can feel a smirk coming up and there’s nothing more he wants to do than wipe it off. Gritting his teeth he shifts, stands a little taller and trails a hand down to Jongin’s cock. It’s annoying how Jongin is still grinning even as he nibbles on Luhan’s lip.
“Way too tense. You need to loosen up more.”
He would, if only Jongin stops dragging him to the nearest bathroom stall ten minutes before class. Every single time. Luhan thinks-nah, he’s sure Jongin does it on purpose. The hard wood pressing onto his backbone is uncomfortable and their minutes are running out, Luhan begrudgingly grazes a nail on the underneath of Jongin’s cock. The reaction is immediate; Jongin moans and thrusts forward into his groin. He continues grinding and pulls back just in time to avoid staining Luhan’s shirt. A few strokes later Luhan comes onto his palm.
“This will be the last time, I’m telling you,” snarls Luhan when he catches Jongin leering at him in the mirror - belt buckled, vest buttoned.
Jongin pauses only a second to reply, “yes, Laoshi” uttered with perfect pronunciation, face as smug as ever, and they both know it won’t be.
* Laoshi = teacher in chinese
welp op i'm not sure how this became a pwp but i hope you enjoyed it ;;
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thank you for filling this!! ;~;
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you're very much welcome <3
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you WILL expand this, won't you? won't you?
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well it's extremely tempting to do so but school will not permit me for quite a while orz ...but the probability is high
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“Kim Jongin, right?” Jongin nodded, head tilting up. Luhan found his eyes wandering to the thick pair of lips and swallowed dryly. “How was the lesson? Was the pacing okay?”
“Oh, yeah… Though you seem rather distracted.”
Jongin’s voice was a pleasant pitch, and even as Luhan was taken aback by the answer his response came tinged with indulgence. “Really?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet,” he mumbled out with a grin so contradictorily bashful, eyes cast down, whatever budding attraction Luhan had accumulated bloomed in escalation.
That night Luhan flipped through the student data in the office computer and scanned past the name Kim Jong, the year 1992, and skipped home.
Yixing said he was recently more eager to go to work, finishing his statement with a playful nudge to the leg. Luhan didn’t think anyone would notice - he didn’t - and responded to Yixing by leaning on his shoulder. “I love my job.”
“Sure you do. Just make sure he’s not underage.”
Luhan laughed into his neck. “All legal and up for grab.”
Yixing was smiling when he pushed Luhan by the cheek, ushering him away from the couch. “Good for you. Now go. And get some if you can.”
He later did that day, through some unforeseen favourable circumstances. It had poured down on his way back home and Luhan was huddled inside a payphone booth together with Jongin because it happened to be the nearest possible shelter. He found the space much smaller than it had looked from outside, even when they stood on opposite ends with backs pressed on the walls. Weeks of casual turned heavy flirting had not prepared him for this, still. Lingering touches whenever Jongin stayed back after class to then walk with him to the train station didn’t compel him to ogle the body now less than a foot away, radiating heat and outlined by damp clothes. When Jongin raised his shirt to wipe the water trickling on his neck Luhan immediately zoomed in on the patch of skin above his waistband.
“Laoshi.”
For a second the splatters ceased, muffled by the sound of his head knocking against the glass wall. Jongin laughed, at the same time reaching forward to rub on the sore spot. “So clumsy.”
“You shocked me,” muttered Luhan under his breath. Jongin’s hand was cooling on his skin and he shivered a little as Jongin huffed onto his collarbone.
“Well you were being distracted again.” There it was again, that little shy smile Jongin flashed every so often. Even his hand was suddenly withdrawn, hovering behind the back of Luhan’s head. Luhan found it adorable, really, the quick change in demeanour mostly for Jongin’s expressions, but sometimes being endearing didn’t suffice. He clasped Jongin’s wrist and put the palm on his nape.
It was amusing to see the boy jolting up and feel his arm twitching. Jongin’s reflex was to jerk away but Luhan kept hold of the hand in place, clenching it and staring straight on to make sure Jongin knew of his intent. Luhan relaxed his hold as Jongin intensified his, let go when Jongin took a step with narrowed eyes and grabbed lightly on his hip. The first contact of their lips was cold, and then it grew steadily warmer when Jongin opened his mouth wider and Luhan pressed in closer, tongues meshing with sudden urgency from weeks of repressed tension. Luhan had his hands on Jongin’s shirt, mapping rough lines down his back and side and quickly slipping in as soon as he found the edge. He moaned in delight when they met taut stomach that clenched slightly under his touch. Jongin had stuck his thumb inside his pants and the rest of his fingers were rubbing on Luhan’s erection - he broke away from the kiss when his hand was yanked off, bewildered, but soon Luhan was pulling him by his ass and grinding on his crotch.
Jongin’s groan set Luhan digging his fingers deeper, rolling his hips faster almost painfully against the rough texture of his jeans. It was pressure and heat in all the right places; Jongin was messily lapping at his neck and roaming warmth across his chest, waist, spreading down his torso and another hard thrust was all it took to bring Luhan to climax.
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The following weeks were a game of keeping subtlety, which Luhan found Jongin growing increasingly worse at. It began with tiny strokes of the arm, to lasting touches and handholding Luhan was sure at least one student saw. He was glad his hand was at least quick enough to stop Jongin from kissing his shoulder.
“And you say I was indiscreet,” Luhan grumbled, bowing his head lower to give more access to his nape. Jongin bit on the protruding of his spine.
He tightened his hold on Luhan’s waist, hands stroking the low of his stomach. “I have needs.” Luhan was sighing as Jongin turned him around, and his fingers were quick to unbutton his pants.
Jongin’s eyes were hooded when Luhan pulled away from their kiss. There was a twinkle in them when Luhan kneeled, a gleam he would’ve called innocent if not for what he was about to do and it amused him how young Jongin could seem sometimes. He started with heavy wet licks he knew Jongin get off on the most, until his cock was fully erect, and engulfed the head with hands pressing on his hair.
Luhan had thought his days of rushed blowjobs in toilets were already over, but couldn’t find it in himself to complain when he stepped back just in time to see Jongin rolling his head back on the door, eyes closed and mouth open and panting.
He had also a fleeting thought it might work, looking at Jongin asleep on his shoulder, the two of them. That was two days before he glimpsed on a group of boys in uniform with Jongin trailing at the back, his blazer an identical shade of yellow.
“Wait up,” Jongin called out as he jogged to Luhan’s side. “You didn’t even talk to me in class. What’s wrong?”
Luhan swept him a tired glance. It turned hostile when Jongin grabbed on his arm.
“You’re a high school student,” hissed him, his teeth clenched. It was absurd to get angry because Jongin wasn’t the one at fault, but somewhere along the sex and everyday chatter his feelings obtrusively tangle in, and the betrayal felt, as untowardly as it was, was difficult to swallow down.
“Yeah so?” Jongin didn’t even bat an eyelash before leaning in for a kiss but Luhan was quick to push him away. He frowned. “If this is about studies and all-”
“No, Jongin, no. You don’t get it…” Luhan bit his lip, trying to force the words out of his mouth but only when he looked away did they spill. “I didn’t know. There’s this student, he joined in around the same time you did and he’s two years older than you, and I got the two of you mixed up. I thought you were older.”
He didn’t dare to raise his head, when the confusion on Jongin’s face changed into something else, something close to anger and maybe hurt. Instead he watched Jongin’s hand curl up into a tight fist, watched it jerk up with slight trembles and stop mid-way to fall back to his side, heavy.
“You’re not making sense.”
“Jongin I-”
“No. No no no, wait. So. What have you been doing these past three months? Just because I’m in high school you suddenly, what, lost all interest? I don’t get it.”
“It’s not ‘just’, I’m four years older than you.”
“So what!?” Luhan bit his lips when Jongin slammed his hand into the wall, the smack resounding loud in the empty hallway. “You wouldn’t care if you hadn’t known, would you?”
It was more of an affirmation rather than a question, and Luhan didn’t answer. Jongin dropped his head on Luhan’s shoulder and clutched at his waist, feeling something in him sting when the body beneath him tensed up. “You’re so unfair.”
“…I’m sorry.”
But Jongin shook his head, kept his lips sealed, and only when Luhan dared to settle his hand on the small of his back he whispered. When the fingers pressed hard into his skin and short nails scratched red lines he said nothing, because Jongin’s plead was of one more time.
Except one became two, turned into three and Luhan lost his count along the transition of fifth to sixth.
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Two more steps and the janitor enters the cubicle beside theirs. One corner of the mop glides past the divider. Had it not been for Jongin’s hand on his mouth Luhan’s moan would’ve been heard. His hips thrust up weakly as Jongin resumes pumping his cock. When finally Jongin glances back at Luhan he is simpering, gripping tighter and moving faster, and Luhan almost comes at the thought that it’s him who creates this side of Jongin.
He closes his lids at the image of Jongin’s gaze intense on him, fused in with lust and resentment and opens them to hazy dark orbs of soft longing.
“You know what they say. When boys bully girls they like. I mean, when someone bullies… someone else.”
“Hm.” Luhan gives the script in his hands a once over, feeling the beginnings of sore eyes and a headache. Jongin is slumped on his chair, nails scraping the dried stain on his jacket sleeve. Most of the time they manage to keep their clothes clean, but that might be because Jongin doesn’t usually give him a handjob with his jacket on. Luhan pretends it’s not a payback for the treatment he received earlier on.
“They deliberately try to annoy people who keep reacting, because they keep reacting, and it won’t stop unless they stop getting reaction but then they will always get a reaction-”
“What are you trying to say?” He lets go of the red pen with a disheartened sigh, deciding it’s best not to continue marking one disaster after another. It’s at times like this Luhan’s a little glad to have Jongin as his student.
“I’m not blackmailing you, just so you know.” Jongin’s gaze is bordering on unnerving when Luhan looks up with a quirked eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
Jongin leans back, avoiding Luhan’s eyes as he mutters, “Why are you still playing along with me?”
Luhan would’ve scoffed, on any other day, had he not been too exhausted to think of a retort. “I don’t know. Your handjobs aren’t spectacular. And I thought you’d be but you’re not very good at blowjobs either.” He shrugs, adding on when Jongin stares at him with expression blank, “You’re still nice to kiss, though.”
“Okay,” Jongin blurts following a short silence, at the same time leaning forward to peck Luhan on the lips. He walks out the room before Luhan could go into lectures about proper classroom etiquette and presence of CCTVs.
“Repeat and listen. What do you think it sounds like?”
The fork he’s been stabbing Yixing’s pork chop with unceremoniously drops and clangs. Luhan winces. “I don’t get what you mean.”
“But you do. It’s basically a love confession.” Yixing flatly speaks as if the topic was negligible. “In a roundabout way.”
Luhan bites his lips, looks down and then looks at Yixing staring at him, his face blasé. “…Stop looking at me like that.”
Of course Yixing will insist on keeping his eyes trained on Luhan, fortunately only for two full seconds, unfortunately tailed by an exaggerated sigh and a jab.
“You’re so stupid sometimes.”
Nearing break time Luhan tidies his table, takes a deep breath and prepares to speak to Jongin but the boy is out the minute he lets the class go. The same thing happens after class, and this goes on for a record-breaking full week without Jongin singling him out in some way to the restroom.
Luhan doesn’t feel like celebrating.
At the end of the second week he decides it’s time for confrontation and in the middle of the lesson tells Jongin to stay back after class.
“About last time.” Jongin takes a seat opposite his table, and Luhan finds he rather misses the sight.
“About last time,” he starts again, and stops abruptly when Jongin gives him a small nod. Luhan takes the time to fidget in his seat instead.
Eventually Jongin peers at his watch and picks up his bag. As he stretches out an arm forward Luhan braces himself for a slap, a punch, anything else but for Jongin to tangle his fingers in his hair.
“I really like you,” he says, playing affectionately with the short locks, his fingers ghosting over the scalp and unconsciously Luhan leans forward towards the touch. Just as gently Jongin retracts and walks out. He stops coming the days onwards.
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“I think I won’t come for class tomorrow,” a student tells him in the middle of a good bye. “My mother doesn’t allow me to go out anymore, the exams will start next week.”
An “ah” slips out past his mouth before Luhan can close it and he curls his fingers, smiles at the student. “Best of luck.”
On the train ride home he types into his phone, and deletes every single message before it is sent. Yixing doesn’t even spare him a glance when he tosses and turns in bed with phone still clutched in his hand, choosing to take out his guitar and plays it in the living room. Luhan buries his face in his pillow and jerks up near the brink of suffocation, when Yixing’s repeated lyrics have made its way around his head, into his ear and brain.
“Okay okay I get it already, you can sing another song!” he yells out, but the endless loop of tune to sometimes simplicity is the best, sometimes sincerity is the answer only gets louder. Luhan storms out of the room to blow on Yixing nape.
To: Jongin
Good luck on your examinations.
To: Jongin
I think I really like you too.
Luhan is chopping sausages for Yixing’s fried rice when his ringtone blares. He has luckily put the knife aside before looking at the caller id.
“Hello?”
“…”
“Jongin?”
“Thank you.”
It’s the first time they talk through the phone, Luhan faintly thinks. Jongin sounds a bit hoarse and far, and better than the possible imaginary conversations Luhan has gone through numerous times in his head.
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs and lets the silence hang. “I’d like it if you had told me first though, before disappearing like that.”
Jongin pauses on a response, and when it does come it’s softer than a whisper, but Luhan hears it still. “Would it be better if I did?”
“Yes. But it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
From the other line Luhan hears Jongin exhales a laugh and smiles to the sound of it.
“Yeah.”
That he is going to leave the class in a few more minutes is the sentence Luhan has already prepared, but instead of the cleaning lady it’s Jongin standing by the door in his school uniform.
“You’re-”
“No longer a high school student.” Jongin cuts him short, casting his bag down to the carpet and striding towards Luhan.
“You still are, technically, since you haven’t had your graduation day yet.” Jongin answers to this by jutting out his lower lip in mock pout and shrugging it off.
“And still four years younger,” continues Luhan, but his arms are raised just slightly for Jongin to place his hands on his sides, and they close just as easily around Jongin’s back.
Jongin’s head falls on Luhan shoulder and he slowly tilts it to one side, taking a deep sniff on Luhan’s collar. “That’s never going to change.”
“That’s true.” Luhan presses his head to Jongin’s and grips a little tighter on his clothes.
One Sunday afternoon at a junction of two corridors one body collides with another and both fall to the floor in thuds. As they wince another person upon exiting a room calls out from behind.
“Kim Jongdae what are you doing.”
To which Jongdae ignores in favour of the stranger he crashed into, whose eyes just widened a tiny bit. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”
The stranger promptly shakes his head and even cracks a smile. “I’m fine, totally fine,” he chuckles, and Jongdae feels this must be the friendliest stranger he’s ever met.
“Thank you, really,” Stranger tells him while patting on his shoulder twice, smile still wide on his face. At this point Jongdae is rather confused, but nods anyway and watches in wonder as Stranger walks into another classroom. The Baby-faced Teacher’s, if he remembers correctly. Jongdae shrugs.
cries i'm so sorry first and foremost for the speed of snail i work on this fic with, and secondly the story that steers out of the prompt and the degrading quality sobs ;;
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i loved this!!!!!!!!! there is no degrade in quality, just good good quality!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
what has degraded in quality however, is my brain, after reading lukai smut and student-teacher love omfg
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you are me, anon, i'm so grateful for seoulfullness and its supply of lukai sobs
and sobs again thank you, thank you, you're being much too nice here ;~;
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