deeper conversation: chapter 2
deeper conversation: chapter 2
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu | past!jaechun
chaptered | AU | nc-17
--
Shit. Shit. Shit and multiply it with a million and you will get a lot of shits. And all of them were on me, the shithead Jung Yunho.
First day meeting with my supervisor was not really a smooth-sailing event, especially since the aforementioned shithead Jung Yunho had managed to embarrass himself not just in front of the aforementioned supervisor, but also in front of the whole teaching staff members. Urgh. I saw Kim Heechul-songsengnim smirked at me and I want to die that very second - why oh why didn’t I just slip on my pasta and cracked my skull? It’d be a gruesome way to die, but at least it would save me from utter humiliation.
And then there was Kim Jaejoong-songsengnim, my now named aforementioned supervisor. Fuck it if he wasn’t gorgeous as hell. Honestly I think I lost some brain cells when I first saw him - he was that gorgeous. Donghae smirked and told me to turn off the gay for public safety when he saw my stoned face, which he dubbed as my version of a deer caught in the headlight, and I had to admit he wasn’t far from being right. All words and coherent thoughts left my mind, and when Kim Jaejoong began to speak, damn damn damn- I had to clutch my bag and file just to remind myself that I was in his office for serious business and I was in no way allowed to jizz in my pants.
I probably sounded like a love-struck teen and I probably don’t really care, except that I was reminded by that tiny, cruel voice in my head that I had made quite an impression on the gorgeous Kim Jaejoong (I shall dub him The Gorgeous One from now onwards, because saying his name made me blush ridiculously like a girl at the age of puberty), and it just make not caring an impossible task. And I was going to meet him again tomorrow. Urgh.
The first day and I was already hung up over my own supervisor. Oh my God what a loser you are Jung Yunho. You must be not getting enough sex.
Ouch.
Well, it’s not far from the truth - my last hookup had been about six-months ago, with a guy I met at the gay bar I usually frequent. Our affair was purely sexual, and it lasted for a good one month, before I decided that my semester exams need more attention than the piece of very pretty ass that lied on my bed. We parted without a scene, he was older and hot and it wasn’t long before I saw him at the bar again trotting another young, handsome dominant male. And now I'm officially having a semi-permanent affair with my hands. Cries.
And now that made me wonder if The Gorgeous One is gay, which I’m fairly certain he is because he wore cherry lip tint and a very hard-pressed slack that just sculpt his butt in the most alluring way possible, and if he is, would he be the ram or the ewe? Hmm. But by the look of things, and considering that I'm usually the one doing the, err, penetrating with my partner(s), I’m convinced that he should be an uke - because he is, of course, prettier and shorter than me, which will make positioning easier in bed. And I imagined it’d be much better if he is the uke so that when he's on top and he's riding me and oh-
Did I just went on and analyzed possible sexual positioning of me and my supervisor if we are to be in bed?
Take a deep breath, Jung Yunho. Count from one to ten. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten. There. Calmer and less horny. Good boy.
Then there was the issue of Choi-songsengnim. Remembering that person and what he did made me want to kill someone, most likely the named person himself, because how dare he groped The Gorgeous One’s butts? Only I was allowed- scratched that- no one was allowed to do things like that to a person without his/her permission; sadly not even me. Don’t they have sexual harassment code lining somewhere in the school’s policy?
But by the way The Gorgeous One reacted, I was sure he did not want to make a scene out of it. It pissed me off that he took it so calmly, of course I saw him glared like he could burn the jerk with his gaze alone (I don’t mind if he wants to set me afire with his eyes - I’d burn willingly for him. Unff.) and I think he thought I was mad at him when he looked at me with his puppy-eyes, so apologetic I wanted to kick myself for probably misleading him with what I was trying to do. After that incident at the library, I avoided The Gorgeous One as best as I can, at times discreetly trying to hide behind Donghae’s shoulders, before I realized that ungrateful friend of mine betrayed me by being born too short for a guy.
Thank God for His merciful ways by granting me a weekend gap to allow me to get over the humiliation and start afresh tomorrow. But the problem was, I didn’t get over things! I pestered and pondered and over-analysed, and I’d probably cried myself to sleep had I not been born a guy with just a small trickle of femininity in me.
I headdesked quite professionally for a few times, until the dull ache at my forehead reminded me that it probably was not a good idea to turn up for our session tomorrow with a swollen head. I looked up at my laptop, the good picture of Changmin (that’s my younger brother, he’s doing law in Seoul University right now) and me on last year’s Christmas swimming through the screen. I stared at the moving pictures for a while, letting my thoughts on The Gorgeous One being replaced with thoughts of responsibility, and a part of my brain (which probably suffered a great malfunction incident on Friday morning, when I saw The Gorgeous One for the first time) clicked and reminded me that I need to call Min. It had been one week since my last call, and while Changmin was being an excellent ass of a brother every time we talked, that didn’t mean I can skip my duty as his older brother. It was enough that our parents are two of the most fucked up parents anyone could ever have, and I wasn’t planning on being the most fucked up older brother to Min too.
I almost got into half of the song that he set up as his outcall tone, a ridiculous techno music that I don’t really approve off, when he answered the call sounding only almost half-sober.
“Yo.”
“That’s no way to greet your brother. Say ‘yeoboseyo’ at least.”
“Chill…why are you harping on me like that? Shit, please don’t start practicing your educational propaganda on me, okay hyung?”
Ah, there he is. My excellent ass of a younger brother. Long time no see, Jung Changmin.
“Changmin, are you drunk? Are you stoning out again?”, I asked, purely concerned. Changmin had a serious problem of taking care of himself - he only knows how to neglect and not to care.
“Nah, just a bit daze. I was sleeping, idiot, until you unreasonably call me in the middle of the night and woke me up to go all mommy on me. You don’t need to check up on me, hyung…I’m okay, alright? I’m hanging up-“
“Wait Min-ah!”, but of course I was too slow for him. Damn young people and their superior kinetic abilities. I growled at the phone, wishing to myself that Changmin could somehow see or hear me growling my displeasure at him.
I looked around my studio apartment - almost too tiny to be called a studio. A closet would be more apt, but for someone who’s living on student’s loan, I don’t have enough ground to complain. I stretched a bit, my muscles were all aching from the studying and the long, uneventful Sunday, and I looked longingly at my bed which was just two steps away when I noticed a certain brown long-sleeved shirt splayed across the foot of my bed.
The Gorgeous One’s shirt.
Oh God, that really had happened, hadn’t it?
I nearly squealed, but no, I just grinned stupidly wide for a good few seconds. Walking up to that apple-fabric softener-smelling shirt, I traced the wordings carefully, as if I could feel The Gorgeous One under the tips of my fingers. ‘ChungJu High’ - that’s what it said on the shirt but I was looking at it like it contained something more; an underlying message that speaks of how hot The Gorgeous One would look in this brown, long sleeved school shirt.
I ended up hugging the shirt to sleep for the night, dreaming of hugging someone instead. It was no wonder that when I woke up the next morning, my sweat was stained, needless to say that I finally managed to jizz in my pants - literally so.
*
When I got to our meeting room that morning, Yeeun and Sohee already were there, and I met Jandi just as I was about to enter the room. Jandi was a shy girl, not much of a talker and a really sweet girl once you get to know her. I don’t really like Sohee because she giggled too often and wore so much lipgloss I wondered why her lips had not stuck with each other yet. I don’t particularly hate or like Yeeun, but I figured I better not get too close to these two besties lest I get sucked in their great ability of talking about trivial things like they are the most important things in the world.
I took the seat furthest from the head of the long table, leaving three spaces between me and Jandi for Sunmi and Donghae - the extra seat for the illusion of choice. I hoped so hard that The Gorgeous One would not target me by asking me to talk or answer questions today, because honestly I haven’t yet cultivate enough brain cells to make up for the ones dead on last Friday.
Donghae and Sunmi arrived just few minutes before The Gorgeous One entered, Donghae trying hard to catch his breath and smiled at the same time that he looked so funny with his flaring nostrils. I refrained myself from laughing, and before I knew it, The Gorgeous One had looked at me with this sort of an amused look on his face, and I felt my cheeks burned up. Now, if Donghae was to turn and look at me, he would have the time of his life laughing at my surely tomato-red face.
Luckily when the discussion went underway, I managed to detach from my stupid self for some times to actually engage with the learning that was happening. My supervisor was really inspirational, and while he didn’t have that many years of teaching to draw examples on, I found his sharing of experience enriching and admirable. He had been teaching high-school English for 10 years and became the Head of English Department 2 years ago, he graduated from Cambridge (impressive man is impressive) and started his teaching career when he was 23, the same age as I am now. Apparently, from a quick calculation of my good mathematical skill, he is 33 now, and fuck, he looked too good to be over thirty. Not a strand of grey hair and crease on his forehead! And for a teacher who dealt with hundreds of obnoxious, lazy and spoilt students everyday, he must have a really good skin regime to maintain that youthful look on his face.
And while I was ogling at the smooth span of his skin, he had managed to catch me staring again, and there you go, Jung Yunho, congratulation for making a fool of yourself for the nth time. I groaned inwardly as I gathered my composure back, and willing my face to cool the fuck down and think of my future and the Korean youngsters’ future in general, which will be in my hands just a few months from now. And it worked - responsibilities have a way to douse water on the fire of your lust.
Our discussion adjourned at 10, because Gorgeous-songsengnim has a class to teach. We were given a reading assignment to do, which I finished by lunch time. I was glad we were not thrown into our real teaching practicum yet, and was utterly grateful that we were allowed to prepare and just observe the classes for the first month. Real teaching will start in March, and that’s when our supervisor will come and observe us in our class from time to time - and we were expected to write up a report and attend meetings a few times a week to relay our experience and any questions that may have popped up. While I was thrilled with the prospect of finally being able to stand in front of a class and teach, I was extremely nervous too, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be a good teacher - three-and-a-half years of learning educational theories doing nothing to soothe my anxiety. Maybe that’s why our degree require us to have a supervisor to guide us and ease our way into teaching - I’m sure it’d be harder if there’s no one to show us the ropes.
I spent the rest of the afternoon at the library - reading some education journals and oh God they were such a bore. I got the gist of the issues discussed but too tired and unmotivated mentally to actually peruse through the whole thing and ended up with a copy of R. K. Narayan’s The English Teacher on my lap. Before I knew it, it was already 5, just about time I call it a day and went home. I borrowed the book out because I was determined to read how Krishna coped with his wife’s death and the messenger of the other-world - sort of like Heaven’s Postman Indian-version? - and I was surprised to see The Gorgeous One standing behind me and about to borrow a book himself.
Lo and behold, ladies and gentlemen, Lady Fate has spoken. There in his hand was another copy of The English Teacher, same cover and same rundown look. I looked at the book in his hand and then up at his face, and he just smiled, biting his lower lips so cutely my head began to pound,
“Guess we have the same thing in mind, huh?”
Oh Gorgeous-sshi, I don’t know if we have the same thing in mind, but I know what I was thinking and trust me, I don’t think you’d share the same thought as I did.
-- [TBC]
a/n: i'm having too much fun writing Yunho's part. :p
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu | past!jaechun
chaptered | AU | nc-17
--
Shit. Shit. Shit and multiply it with a million and you will get a lot of shits. And all of them were on me, the shithead Jung Yunho.
First day meeting with my supervisor was not really a smooth-sailing event, especially since the aforementioned shithead Jung Yunho had managed to embarrass himself not just in front of the aforementioned supervisor, but also in front of the whole teaching staff members. Urgh. I saw Kim Heechul-songsengnim smirked at me and I want to die that very second - why oh why didn’t I just slip on my pasta and cracked my skull? It’d be a gruesome way to die, but at least it would save me from utter humiliation.
And then there was Kim Jaejoong-songsengnim, my now named aforementioned supervisor. Fuck it if he wasn’t gorgeous as hell. Honestly I think I lost some brain cells when I first saw him - he was that gorgeous. Donghae smirked and told me to turn off the gay for public safety when he saw my stoned face, which he dubbed as my version of a deer caught in the headlight, and I had to admit he wasn’t far from being right. All words and coherent thoughts left my mind, and when Kim Jaejoong began to speak, damn damn damn- I had to clutch my bag and file just to remind myself that I was in his office for serious business and I was in no way allowed to jizz in my pants.
I probably sounded like a love-struck teen and I probably don’t really care, except that I was reminded by that tiny, cruel voice in my head that I had made quite an impression on the gorgeous Kim Jaejoong (I shall dub him The Gorgeous One from now onwards, because saying his name made me blush ridiculously like a girl at the age of puberty), and it just make not caring an impossible task. And I was going to meet him again tomorrow. Urgh.
The first day and I was already hung up over my own supervisor. Oh my God what a loser you are Jung Yunho. You must be not getting enough sex.
Ouch.
Well, it’s not far from the truth - my last hookup had been about six-months ago, with a guy I met at the gay bar I usually frequent. Our affair was purely sexual, and it lasted for a good one month, before I decided that my semester exams need more attention than the piece of very pretty ass that lied on my bed. We parted without a scene, he was older and hot and it wasn’t long before I saw him at the bar again trotting another young, handsome dominant male. And now I'm officially having a semi-permanent affair with my hands. Cries.
And now that made me wonder if The Gorgeous One is gay, which I’m fairly certain he is because he wore cherry lip tint and a very hard-pressed slack that just sculpt his butt in the most alluring way possible, and if he is, would he be the ram or the ewe? Hmm. But by the look of things, and considering that I'm usually the one doing the, err, penetrating with my partner(s), I’m convinced that he should be an uke - because he is, of course, prettier and shorter than me, which will make positioning easier in bed. And I imagined it’d be much better if he is the uke so that when he's on top and he's riding me and oh-
Did I just went on and analyzed possible sexual positioning of me and my supervisor if we are to be in bed?
Take a deep breath, Jung Yunho. Count from one to ten. One two three four five six seven eight nine ten. There. Calmer and less horny. Good boy.
Then there was the issue of Choi-songsengnim. Remembering that person and what he did made me want to kill someone, most likely the named person himself, because how dare he groped The Gorgeous One’s butts? Only I was allowed- scratched that- no one was allowed to do things like that to a person without his/her permission; sadly not even me. Don’t they have sexual harassment code lining somewhere in the school’s policy?
But by the way The Gorgeous One reacted, I was sure he did not want to make a scene out of it. It pissed me off that he took it so calmly, of course I saw him glared like he could burn the jerk with his gaze alone (I don’t mind if he wants to set me afire with his eyes - I’d burn willingly for him. Unff.) and I think he thought I was mad at him when he looked at me with his puppy-eyes, so apologetic I wanted to kick myself for probably misleading him with what I was trying to do. After that incident at the library, I avoided The Gorgeous One as best as I can, at times discreetly trying to hide behind Donghae’s shoulders, before I realized that ungrateful friend of mine betrayed me by being born too short for a guy.
Thank God for His merciful ways by granting me a weekend gap to allow me to get over the humiliation and start afresh tomorrow. But the problem was, I didn’t get over things! I pestered and pondered and over-analysed, and I’d probably cried myself to sleep had I not been born a guy with just a small trickle of femininity in me.
I headdesked quite professionally for a few times, until the dull ache at my forehead reminded me that it probably was not a good idea to turn up for our session tomorrow with a swollen head. I looked up at my laptop, the good picture of Changmin (that’s my younger brother, he’s doing law in Seoul University right now) and me on last year’s Christmas swimming through the screen. I stared at the moving pictures for a while, letting my thoughts on The Gorgeous One being replaced with thoughts of responsibility, and a part of my brain (which probably suffered a great malfunction incident on Friday morning, when I saw The Gorgeous One for the first time) clicked and reminded me that I need to call Min. It had been one week since my last call, and while Changmin was being an excellent ass of a brother every time we talked, that didn’t mean I can skip my duty as his older brother. It was enough that our parents are two of the most fucked up parents anyone could ever have, and I wasn’t planning on being the most fucked up older brother to Min too.
I almost got into half of the song that he set up as his outcall tone, a ridiculous techno music that I don’t really approve off, when he answered the call sounding only almost half-sober.
“Yo.”
“That’s no way to greet your brother. Say ‘yeoboseyo’ at least.”
“Chill…why are you harping on me like that? Shit, please don’t start practicing your educational propaganda on me, okay hyung?”
Ah, there he is. My excellent ass of a younger brother. Long time no see, Jung Changmin.
“Changmin, are you drunk? Are you stoning out again?”, I asked, purely concerned. Changmin had a serious problem of taking care of himself - he only knows how to neglect and not to care.
“Nah, just a bit daze. I was sleeping, idiot, until you unreasonably call me in the middle of the night and woke me up to go all mommy on me. You don’t need to check up on me, hyung…I’m okay, alright? I’m hanging up-“
“Wait Min-ah!”, but of course I was too slow for him. Damn young people and their superior kinetic abilities. I growled at the phone, wishing to myself that Changmin could somehow see or hear me growling my displeasure at him.
I looked around my studio apartment - almost too tiny to be called a studio. A closet would be more apt, but for someone who’s living on student’s loan, I don’t have enough ground to complain. I stretched a bit, my muscles were all aching from the studying and the long, uneventful Sunday, and I looked longingly at my bed which was just two steps away when I noticed a certain brown long-sleeved shirt splayed across the foot of my bed.
The Gorgeous One’s shirt.
Oh God, that really had happened, hadn’t it?
I nearly squealed, but no, I just grinned stupidly wide for a good few seconds. Walking up to that apple-fabric softener-smelling shirt, I traced the wordings carefully, as if I could feel The Gorgeous One under the tips of my fingers. ‘ChungJu High’ - that’s what it said on the shirt but I was looking at it like it contained something more; an underlying message that speaks of how hot The Gorgeous One would look in this brown, long sleeved school shirt.
I ended up hugging the shirt to sleep for the night, dreaming of hugging someone instead. It was no wonder that when I woke up the next morning, my sweat was stained, needless to say that I finally managed to jizz in my pants - literally so.
*
When I got to our meeting room that morning, Yeeun and Sohee already were there, and I met Jandi just as I was about to enter the room. Jandi was a shy girl, not much of a talker and a really sweet girl once you get to know her. I don’t really like Sohee because she giggled too often and wore so much lipgloss I wondered why her lips had not stuck with each other yet. I don’t particularly hate or like Yeeun, but I figured I better not get too close to these two besties lest I get sucked in their great ability of talking about trivial things like they are the most important things in the world.
I took the seat furthest from the head of the long table, leaving three spaces between me and Jandi for Sunmi and Donghae - the extra seat for the illusion of choice. I hoped so hard that The Gorgeous One would not target me by asking me to talk or answer questions today, because honestly I haven’t yet cultivate enough brain cells to make up for the ones dead on last Friday.
Donghae and Sunmi arrived just few minutes before The Gorgeous One entered, Donghae trying hard to catch his breath and smiled at the same time that he looked so funny with his flaring nostrils. I refrained myself from laughing, and before I knew it, The Gorgeous One had looked at me with this sort of an amused look on his face, and I felt my cheeks burned up. Now, if Donghae was to turn and look at me, he would have the time of his life laughing at my surely tomato-red face.
Luckily when the discussion went underway, I managed to detach from my stupid self for some times to actually engage with the learning that was happening. My supervisor was really inspirational, and while he didn’t have that many years of teaching to draw examples on, I found his sharing of experience enriching and admirable. He had been teaching high-school English for 10 years and became the Head of English Department 2 years ago, he graduated from Cambridge (impressive man is impressive) and started his teaching career when he was 23, the same age as I am now. Apparently, from a quick calculation of my good mathematical skill, he is 33 now, and fuck, he looked too good to be over thirty. Not a strand of grey hair and crease on his forehead! And for a teacher who dealt with hundreds of obnoxious, lazy and spoilt students everyday, he must have a really good skin regime to maintain that youthful look on his face.
And while I was ogling at the smooth span of his skin, he had managed to catch me staring again, and there you go, Jung Yunho, congratulation for making a fool of yourself for the nth time. I groaned inwardly as I gathered my composure back, and willing my face to cool the fuck down and think of my future and the Korean youngsters’ future in general, which will be in my hands just a few months from now. And it worked - responsibilities have a way to douse water on the fire of your lust.
Our discussion adjourned at 10, because Gorgeous-songsengnim has a class to teach. We were given a reading assignment to do, which I finished by lunch time. I was glad we were not thrown into our real teaching practicum yet, and was utterly grateful that we were allowed to prepare and just observe the classes for the first month. Real teaching will start in March, and that’s when our supervisor will come and observe us in our class from time to time - and we were expected to write up a report and attend meetings a few times a week to relay our experience and any questions that may have popped up. While I was thrilled with the prospect of finally being able to stand in front of a class and teach, I was extremely nervous too, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be a good teacher - three-and-a-half years of learning educational theories doing nothing to soothe my anxiety. Maybe that’s why our degree require us to have a supervisor to guide us and ease our way into teaching - I’m sure it’d be harder if there’s no one to show us the ropes.
I spent the rest of the afternoon at the library - reading some education journals and oh God they were such a bore. I got the gist of the issues discussed but too tired and unmotivated mentally to actually peruse through the whole thing and ended up with a copy of R. K. Narayan’s The English Teacher on my lap. Before I knew it, it was already 5, just about time I call it a day and went home. I borrowed the book out because I was determined to read how Krishna coped with his wife’s death and the messenger of the other-world - sort of like Heaven’s Postman Indian-version? - and I was surprised to see The Gorgeous One standing behind me and about to borrow a book himself.
Lo and behold, ladies and gentlemen, Lady Fate has spoken. There in his hand was another copy of The English Teacher, same cover and same rundown look. I looked at the book in his hand and then up at his face, and he just smiled, biting his lower lips so cutely my head began to pound,
“Guess we have the same thing in mind, huh?”
Oh Gorgeous-sshi, I don’t know if we have the same thing in mind, but I know what I was thinking and trust me, I don’t think you’d share the same thought as I did.
-- [TBC]
a/n: i'm having too much fun writing Yunho's part. :p