[FIC] First Crush, JaeSu, Secret Santa
Title: First Crush
Pairing: JaeSu
Rating: R
Genre: Angst, AU
A/N: For Secret Santa 2008 on the hug______ comm.
Junsu fingered the photograph, flipping it through his fingers as he sat in the back of the classroom. He taps it on the desk, rat tat tat, the sound echoing in the room.
Kim Junsu? I need you to stay after class. Okay everyone, dismissed!
It's dark.
He hated it at the beginning, hated how he was pointed out in front of everyone, how the other students whispered, how they giggled. But then came the afternoon sessions, the tutoring, his teacher's encouraging smile, his nervous habit of sticking out his tongue, those pats on his shoulder.
He's alone.
Stroke it harder, just like that, fuck, moans and bites his lip, makes him needy, stares at himself in the mirror, feels so wrong and yet he loves the way he looks, all flushed and hard, feels alive and the sensation is too much as he can just feel him pounding from behind and he comes, groans and trembles, tries to breathe. He pulls out the rubbery dildo, collapses on the bathroom rug.
Rain is sheeting down, the windows a blur and he can barely make out the trees, the fields, the gate that lines the school.
"Did you see the new music teacher?" "He's such a hunk!" "I want to be in his class!" "C'mon Sooyoung, let's go check him out" the voices clatter chatter, busy bird sounds in his wake, but he brushes it off. He only has eyes for one, Mr. Jaejoong Kim.
Junsu hears their voices in the hall, hushed and anxious, excited and nervous, and he stops tapping. His other hand clenches, hard, and he can't see clearly for a few seconds.
He's a little bit early to their session and he's excited, giddy, checks his cologne, his prepared paperwork, smooths his hair. He's about to burst in when he hears another voice, and then a lilting laugh, and catches a glimpse of a smile on Mr. Kim he's never seen before. His hand crumples up the sheets of paper and he skips their session, for the first time.
Maybe it's that one glance that saves, that one image that stops him.
He goes back anyway, because it's the only time he can have him to himself, one on one, so close, but the feeling is bitter, the tainted dark already seeping into his heart.
Teacher Kim's slim profile is silhouetted in the doorway as he pauses for a second before following someone. Junsu knows who the other person is. But that look of inexplicable happiness on his face, of almost childish joy burns into Junsu's heart, makes him want to retch, to plunge a knife deep into his desk, make him scream in frustration.
Junsu, I want to know just how proud I am of how quickly you've progressed! I think you're ready now, that you understand everything so I think we can end these sessions. You've done a great job and I'm sure you won't be needing my help outside of class anymore. Really, I want to congratulate you.
And then he feels guilt, unbearable and heavy, seeping into him. His flights of fancy have become more, bordering on obsession until he doesn't recognize himself. This isn't right. He stares hard at the incriminating photo before making his decision.
He flicks out a lighter, burns the photo until only a scrap is left. The smell of burning paper is oddly soothing and Junsu finds himself releasing a breath.
It's only too easy to catch them with his cell phone camera, and Junsu snaps once, twice, a million times, anger and frustration building in him, why why why can't he be the one, why does it have to be him, why and he runs out, runs in the bitter cold until his lungs burn, until his throat hurts, until his heart aches. It's not just the cold.
It doesn't matter, in the end. It seems he's not the only one. The photo with Teacher Park is plastered all over the school the next morning and Teacher Kim is gone, both of them are gone, leaving Junsu alone.
A boy looks at him, sympathetically, but he wonders if isn't all some elaborate scheme. Junsu recognizes him as the photographer for the school newspaper.
He doesn't care. The physical sensations are distractions enough, or so he tries to tell himself.
Pairing: JaeSu
Rating: R
Genre: Angst, AU
A/N: For Secret Santa 2008 on the hug______ comm.
Junsu fingered the photograph, flipping it through his fingers as he sat in the back of the classroom. He taps it on the desk, rat tat tat, the sound echoing in the room.
Kim Junsu? I need you to stay after class. Okay everyone, dismissed!
It's dark.
He hated it at the beginning, hated how he was pointed out in front of everyone, how the other students whispered, how they giggled. But then came the afternoon sessions, the tutoring, his teacher's encouraging smile, his nervous habit of sticking out his tongue, those pats on his shoulder.
He's alone.
Stroke it harder, just like that, fuck, moans and bites his lip, makes him needy, stares at himself in the mirror, feels so wrong and yet he loves the way he looks, all flushed and hard, feels alive and the sensation is too much as he can just feel him pounding from behind and he comes, groans and trembles, tries to breathe. He pulls out the rubbery dildo, collapses on the bathroom rug.
Rain is sheeting down, the windows a blur and he can barely make out the trees, the fields, the gate that lines the school.
"Did you see the new music teacher?" "He's such a hunk!" "I want to be in his class!" "C'mon Sooyoung, let's go check him out" the voices clatter chatter, busy bird sounds in his wake, but he brushes it off. He only has eyes for one, Mr. Jaejoong Kim.
Junsu hears their voices in the hall, hushed and anxious, excited and nervous, and he stops tapping. His other hand clenches, hard, and he can't see clearly for a few seconds.
He's a little bit early to their session and he's excited, giddy, checks his cologne, his prepared paperwork, smooths his hair. He's about to burst in when he hears another voice, and then a lilting laugh, and catches a glimpse of a smile on Mr. Kim he's never seen before. His hand crumples up the sheets of paper and he skips their session, for the first time.
Maybe it's that one glance that saves, that one image that stops him.
He goes back anyway, because it's the only time he can have him to himself, one on one, so close, but the feeling is bitter, the tainted dark already seeping into his heart.
Teacher Kim's slim profile is silhouetted in the doorway as he pauses for a second before following someone. Junsu knows who the other person is. But that look of inexplicable happiness on his face, of almost childish joy burns into Junsu's heart, makes him want to retch, to plunge a knife deep into his desk, make him scream in frustration.
Junsu, I want to know just how proud I am of how quickly you've progressed! I think you're ready now, that you understand everything so I think we can end these sessions. You've done a great job and I'm sure you won't be needing my help outside of class anymore. Really, I want to congratulate you.
And then he feels guilt, unbearable and heavy, seeping into him. His flights of fancy have become more, bordering on obsession until he doesn't recognize himself. This isn't right. He stares hard at the incriminating photo before making his decision.
He flicks out a lighter, burns the photo until only a scrap is left. The smell of burning paper is oddly soothing and Junsu finds himself releasing a breath.
It's only too easy to catch them with his cell phone camera, and Junsu snaps once, twice, a million times, anger and frustration building in him, why why why can't he be the one, why does it have to be him, why and he runs out, runs in the bitter cold until his lungs burn, until his throat hurts, until his heart aches. It's not just the cold.
It doesn't matter, in the end. It seems he's not the only one. The photo with Teacher Park is plastered all over the school the next morning and Teacher Kim is gone, both of them are gone, leaving Junsu alone.
A boy looks at him, sympathetically, but he wonders if isn't all some elaborate scheme. Junsu recognizes him as the photographer for the school newspaper.
He doesn't care. The physical sensations are distractions enough, or so he tries to tell himself.