in which Junhong fantasizes about his mathematics teacher
for flusteredmess, who is an instigator and my fellow bangzelo shipper.
for the sake of fic, Junhong is 17.
Junhong isn’t sure what to blame for this. He could blame his seventeen year old hormones or the dubious amount of porn he has (accidentally) watched, or alternatively, he could dump all the blame on Mr. Bang for being so attractive, but there’s no denying the fact that Junhong fantasizes about his Mathematics teacher during class.
It doesn’t help that Mr. Bang has a preference for loose pants that do nothing to hide the bulge at the front of them. Furthermore, they line against the curve of his ass in almost illegal manner, and Junhong has an insane urge to crawl under the teacher’s table and suck him off as the former threads fingers through his hair and calls him “good boy”.
He doodles hard enough on his paper to tear it.
It had started off innocently enough. Junhong had been enthralled by the way Mr. Bang smiled from the very first time he had seen him walk into his class, glasses perched on his nose and hands full of thick ring files. He had looked up and smile at the class, wide and gummy, and Junhong had felt his heart pick up speed.
Soon, he wants the solid looking hand in his own; the arm snaked with subtle strength on his shoulders and the mouth against his, lips tugging at each other.
It soon becomes a Problem, because Junhong is unable to focus in class when all his thoughts are the complete opposite from academia. Instead, he spends mathematics lessons doodling little spirals all over his notebooks, or playing tic-tac-toe with himself. He knows his grades for this class are plummeting fast, but it was not listening versus listening and then getting a hard-on.
He chooses the former.
Things escalate when Mr. Bang makes him stay back after school for extra personal lessons because he is failing mathematics. He fidgets nervously, thumbs twiddling, as Mr. Bang maps out formulas after concepts on the whiteboard. It’s Friday, and the jeans Mr. Bang is wearing mould against his thighs as he reaches up to write something against the board. Junhong loops another spiral on to the paper in front of him.
“I remember you did so well at the beginning of the year, Junhong, what happened?” Mr. Bang asks as he takes a seat on the other end of the table, hands draped in front of him. Junhong gulps a little.
“Mr. Bang –” he starts. “Call me Yongguk, I’m only a few years older anyway,” Mr. Bang – Yongguk – says.
“Yong – Yongguk,” Junhong stutters out, and Yongguk startle him with a hearty laugh. Yongguk reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair.
“What can I do to help you?” Yongguk asks.
Touch me please, Junhong wants to say. Instead, he shrugs.
Yongguk leans in closer, close to the edge of Junhong’s Personal Space. Junhong likes his Personal Space. Unknowingly, he leans back. Something flickers too fast across Yongguk’s eyes for Junhong to catch.
“Is there something troubling you? You can talk to me, you know? I might be your teacher but I’m not that old.”
And that really is the problem, Junhong thought, because you’re not that old so my mind thinks it is entirely okay to fantasize about you while I sit in your class.
“No, I just… mathematics is difficult,” Junhong manages to say instead.
“How about this, if you do well for the next test, I’ll reward you with anything you want. Within my means of course.”
“I –” Junhong starts, but Yongguk pats his hair again.
“Take your time to think about what you want. I’m going to go through the concepts taught last week with you again, okay? I’m sure you’ll get it.”
The hand wrapped around his wrist is almost punishing, and Junhong tries to tug his hand away. That earns him an even tighter grip, and he winces as nails start to dig into his skin.
“I need to speak to you, Junhong, for a while,” Yongguk says, voice low and alluring, mouth pressed against the side of his ear. The other students don’t even spare them a second glance as they walk out of the classroom, already absorbed in their mundane conversations with each other.
Yongguk shoves him against white board, the edge of it digging into the small of his back, but it doesn’t matter, not when Yongguk’s mouth is dangerously close to his own, mere inches, and Junhong could just stretch his head out to claim them.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Junhong,” Yongguk says, voice almost rumbling due to how low it is. His breath leaves a layer of moisture across Junhong’s nose, and Junhong feels his own breath catch in his throat.
“You don’t listen in class anymore, don’t you know how to give your teacher some respect?”
“Mr. Bang,” Junhong starts, but Yongguk cuts in, “you’ll call me sir when I discipline you.”
Junhong finds himself bent over the teacher’s table, ass raised high in the air. He’s naked, cock hard against the table. The edge of the table digs into the skin at his stomach, and he is sure there will be marks later on.
The first smack against his left cheek jolts him up from his sleep. Junhong groans as he rolls around to bury his head into his pillow.
He does try to pay more attention in class afterwards, what with the promise of a reward lingering constantly at the back of his head. While Yongguk had probably meant a videogame or maybe food, the ideas in Junhong’s mind are terribly different.
“Junhong, what would you do here to get the answer?” Yongguk asks him during class, and Junhong is taken by surprise. “Multiply?” He replies tentatively, and is rewarded by Yongguk smiling at him widely, even as he makes a neat cross on the board.
His heart flips in his chest.
The personal mathematics lessons become an avenue for them to know each other beyond their teacher-student relationship, and Junhong is genuinely surprised at the fact that they listen to the same type of music.
Surprisingly, he finds it easier to concentrate after a while, and the fantasies have dimmed down, only occurring when he is sleeping.
Instead of fantasies however, Junhong’s mind is now wrapped in the possibility of something akin to a relationship. After all, Yongguk had said that he wasn’t that old, so it was possible, entirely and completely possible for them to date, right? It is an insane thought, and he pushes it to the back of his head as he listens to Yongguk explaining another new formula to him, deep voice drawing him in like a lasso.
Maybe if he had met Yongguk later in life, at a small concert somewhere, they could have fall together more easily, but at this current moment, Yongguk is his teacher and Junhong knows that that means they are impossible.
Junhong passes his next mathematics test at the top percentile of his class, and Yongguk smiles as he returns him his paper, a gold star stuck next to his name.
“Have you thought about that reward I said I would give you?” Yongguk asks after class, and Junhong knows this is the only chance he will ever get to initiate something, and it might fall flat on his face, but Yongguk had been the one to tell him, weeks ago during their second private lesson, that dreams only come true when you try for them.
“Will you touch me?” He blurts out without much thinking, and winces when he sees the look of shock filter across Yongguk’s face.
“I’m your teacher, Junhong,” Yongguk says softly back, and the only thing that Junhong processes is that Yongguk hadn’t denied him. “I can admit I find you… attractive. Himchan – Himchan is my friend – thinks I am absolutely crazy and I completely agree with him.”
“I’m seventeen, Yongguk,” Junhong says.
“You’re my student, Junhong, I have a responsibility to educate and nurture you, I have a professionalism to live up to, I have –”
Yongguk never finishes his sentence because Junhong pushes past the beating of his heart and the dryness in his mouth and presses his nervous lips against Yongguk’s own. The noise from outside, of students rushing as they make their way to their other classes, turns into static as the seconds tick by. Yongguk shoves him away roughly, eyes wide.
“Go to your next class, Junhong,” he says quietly, and Junhong picks up his books to flee.
He skips the subsequent extra lessons that he has, and hides in a corner of the classroom during official mathematics classes. Yongguk doesn’t make him answer questions in class anymore, and his eyes avert from his side of the room. It hurts to be honest, not so much because he was getting ignored by a person he was attracted to, but because Junhong feels like has lost a friend; a person that he has grown to somewhat respect and like beyond the physical.
To be honest, the only person he can blame is himself. Junhong pulls the blanket over himself before he opens the letter that had been stuck in his locker that morning. The paper is from the foolscap pad sold in school, and the envelope is a stark, boring white.
I am going to regret this.
Saturday, 9am at the park near school.
The date goes well, it goes immensely well, so well that Junhong gets to kiss Yongguk before they part, tongues lapping at each other insistently in the shadowed area of the park. Junhong’s back is pressed against a tree truck, and it is rough, but Yongguk’s cracked lips are oddly incredibly soft.
“Bring me home,” Junhong breathes, and they both know what he is alluding too.
“You’re still my student,” Yongguk says as he pulls away, and Junhong sees doubt cross his dark eyes again. Junhong bites his lower lip.
“You asked me out,” Junhong replies easily, canting his hips towards Yongguk.
“I had to grapple with myself very long to do that, Junhong.” Junhong stares at him. “Okay, look. I’ll reward you after you graduate okay? I swear.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Junhong replies almost teasingly, and he barely holds back his moan as Yongguk presses him against the tree truck again.
- this was supposed to be much kinkier idk what happened.
- i hope this was okay, yssa ;~~~;