[M] i wanna love your brains (1/2)

Zhang Yixing is nervous; his palms are sweaty, the crisp collar around his neck itches, and the royal blue tie he’d meticulously put on this morning feels like a noose. It’s his first day at his newly appointed job teaching English to university students. A brilliant mind, relentless determination, contacts and a stroke of luck has gotten him to where he is today. Considering his relatively young age, and lack of experience compared to his seniors, he is extremely grateful to be teaching at all.

Walking down the crowded hallway the only thing on Yixing’s mind is making a good impression, to prove to himself and others of his capabilities, and that he is worthy of his job. His thoughts race through his mind as fast as his feet carry him towards the classroom door before everything comes to a halt. A moment’s hesitation stalls him before he reaches out with a shaky hand to turn the rusty door knob, swiftly opening the door with a loud creak and he steps inside. The sunlight pouring in from the big windows momentarily blind him as he walks towards the front of the room. Setting his messenger bag down he prepares his stack of books and hand out sheets as students slowly file in. As he checks the time on his wristwatch he writes his name on the whiteboard before turning around to face the class with a tiny, nervous smile plastered on his face. Scanning the room he’s met with a sea of young, blank faces. A few stand out to him; the eager girl with medium length, black hair and books neatly stacked in front of her sitting in the front row, and a mop of bleached blond hair, sharp face and curious eyes in the back row. Clearing his throat, Yixing takes a step forward.

“Hello, I’m Professor Zhang Yixing, and I’ll be teaching you English this semester.”

************************

The first half of the semester slowly trickles by and Yixing gradually eases into his job. His nerves calm down with each moment’s confidence that he gains, and classes start to run somewhat smoothly. His students are well behaved enough; from the curious and engaging, to the blond kid whose head is on his desk for a good portion of the class, looking intently at Yixing from time to time with inquisitive eyes and a shadow of a smirk playing on his plush lips.

“That’s it for today,” Yixing calls out tiredly. With the approach of Friday afternoon his students quickly gather their belongings and start exiting the room. “Just a reminder that you can visit my office if you need help with the material we’ve covered so far!” Yixing says, slightly raising his voice to be heard over the rumble of movement. It’s a sentence he’s repeated often, and yet none of his students have visited him. He’s not sure if the students have no problems with the material or if they simply don’t believe in his capabilities of guiding them. The thought worries him.

The blond walks by him slowly as he heads out, looking at Yixing attentively. His face is much more striking up close, and in combination with his height the sight of him leaves Yixing feeling rather flustered. He hopes he imagined the look the student might have given him.

*************************

His tiny office is brightly lit with sunlight streaming through beige curtains. It’s sparsely decorated with a generic IKEA desk, a brown leather chair for himself, and two wooden chairs in front of the desk. One of the white walls is covered with books and a file cabinet he’s sifting through at the moment. A knock on the door has him looking up, papers in hand as he steps to the side to open the door for his visitor.

“Hello, Professor Zhang. I was wondering if you can help me?” a deep voice says. The sight of a familiar striking face leaves him momentarily flustered. “Of course,” Yixing says brightly, shaking head slightly to clear his head as a dimpled smile forms on his face. Stepping aside from the door his student walks in and settles into one of the chairs and Yixing closes the door.

Sitting down in his leather chair he asks “What do you need help with?” and he offers him a warm smile. He notices Sehun has his textbook in front of him, opened up to one of the points he explained during class. Leaning forward towards the desk, the student slightly pushes the textbook over to Yixing. “All of this,” he says, looking attentively at Yixing, with a small smile. Slowly, in an accented English, he says “I don’t understand.” Nodding seriously Yixing says “Okay. We can work through today’s lesson together.”

And so they spend thirty minutes working together as Yixing tries to further explain his lesson while ignoring the way the light streaming through the curtains hits at various angles of the student’s face, throwing his features into beautiful sharp relief. Denying the younger is beautiful would be a crime, but Yixing refuses to let his mind wander any further into these thoughts.

“I hope this helped you.”

“It did,” the student answers as he flicks his hair out of his eyes, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Slightly bending over, he grabs his backpack and shoulders it before looking back at his professor. Smirking, he thanks Yixing and moves to walk out the door.

“May I ask, what’s your name?”

“Sehun. Oh Sehun.”

The name lingers in the air as the door closes behind him.

*************************

Sehun comes to see him once more the next day. His hair is slicked back, light denim jeans and loose t-shirt exposing his collarbones. Leaning into each other’s personal space once more as Yixing attempts to explain the lesson, his eyes keep reverting to Sehun’s exposed chest. The sight of Sehun’s dusty pink nipples against fair, milky skin has him catching his breath, stumbling over words as a rosy pink flush blossoms on his cheeks. Playful eyes and a sly smile greet him as he finally gazes at Sehun’s face again. Sehun brings one of his hands up to the back of his neck, rubs slowly and continues to lightly trace his fingers along his exposed neck. Yixing can’t help but follow its course, swallowing thickly as the hand briefly touches his chest. He feels entranced, his cock stirring at the hint of arousal building in the pit of his stomach. “Umm, yeah. I, uh, think that covers everything. U-unless there’s something else you need help with?” Yixing mumbles, stammering over his own words. Sehun smiles wider. “Maybe.” he says, winking before standing up, and once again bending over to shoulder his backpack. “Thank you again, Professor Zhang” Sehun says over his shoulder, slightly giggling at the man’s bewildered expression.

That night Yixing comes into his own fist with Sehun’s name trapped between his lips as shame and guilt washes over him.

***************************

It happens again. And again. Meetings poorly disguised as extra tutoring as both indulge in each other’s presence, each other’s company and chemistry. Yixing gives in to flitting fingers that linger over his wrists and surrenders to sweet words uttered with a barely concealed lisp. He gives into temptation, and for every look, every glance, Yixing greedily returns them to Sehun. He’s craving for Sehun’s lick of lips, bob of his adam’s apple and quirk of an eyebrow. He’s eager for his deep laughs - especially the ones he causes to roar out of the blond. And so Yixing plays along despite the guilt he feels afterwards. “I have another class to teach in ten minutes. Come by tomorrow and I will help you with the rest.” Sehun leans into his neck as he murmurs “I will.”

***************************

The door to his office opens as it always does around this time of day. “Hello, Sehun.” Yixing says, small smile spreading across his face. Setting his book down he gets up to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk as Sehun takes a seat next to him. “Hello, Professor Zhang.”

And so they start yet another session. Sehun’s more fidgety than usual; his eyes flicker between Yixing’s and his lips from time to time. Yixing rests a hand on his thigh through the rest of the remaining hour as his own eyes repeat the course Sehun’s did, flitting between Sehun’s eyes and lips, and for a brief moment he wonders what those pink lips taste like. Realizing their time is up he shakes his head as he stands up to open the door for Sehun. After taking a step he suddenly feels a strong hand on his shoulder and one on his hip before he is slammed back into the very door he was intending to open. Sehun crowds in on him with a hand on each side of his head, breath ghosting over his face as he inches closer. “Please, can I kiss you?”

Stunned and gasping, Yixing slightly nods his head before his brain catches up with him. Sehun’s lips capture his, leaving him dazed as the press of the boy’s lips sends a jolt of pleasure up and down his body. Caving in with a groan Yixing clutches the boy’s black hoodie with both hands and he kisses back. Yielding in to the feeling of finally having Sehun’s lips on his he parts his mouth and let’s Sehun’s tongue delve in; his probing and licking eliciting low moans from Yixing.

Detaching himself from Yixing’s lips he leaves feather light kisses along the man’s jaw, and a breathy “You taste so good,” reaches his ear. Yixing can’t think straight; he can only feel the zings of pleasure Sehun’s kisses leave behind, feel his fingers work across his abdomen to his hips, can only taste the coffee, mint, and sugar palette Sehun’s lips had left behind. He spreads his legs as Sehun moves his thigh between them. Sehun unattaches himself from Yixing’s neck and rests his forehead against his; finally giving Yixing a moment to think and realize the compromising position they are in. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Yixing murmurs, panic slowly starting to creep its way into his system. “Doing what?” Sehun asks as he slightly bends his knees to slowly roll his hips. A nip to the man’s bottom lip and Yixing visibly shudders with a low groan. “You know what. I’m your proffe- this is wrong. We have to stop.”

“But you want me.”

There’s no answer. There’s nothing but Yixing’s lips ghosting over Sehun’s. “Don’t you?” Sehun asks, voice laced with slight concern. “Yes,” Yixing utters with an exasperated sigh. “But this is still wrong. You’re too young and we’re in public, and I called you in to help you with your studies for God’s sake!”

“This is helping.”

Yixing couldn’t help but smile a little at the ridiculous comment. His hands now on Sehun’s waist, thumbs rubbing in circles in hopes of soothing the rejection, he says “Maybe if we were in another situation.” With a slight pout to his pink lips Sehun extracts himself from the professor’s grip and turns to grab his belongings. Yixing walks towards his desk while straightening his clothes as Sehun aims for the door. When he pries the door open, Sehun turns his torso towards Yixing. “But professor, this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying,” Sehun says with a slight smirk.

*******************

The next day finds Yixing staring at a bent over Sehun picking up a pencil he had accidentally dropped. A drop dead gorgeous Sehun with mussed hair, plaid shirt and jeans so impossibly tight Yixing swears he can see Sehun’s ass crack from across campus. No, Sehun wasn’t going to make this easy.

Unlike most days Sehun chose to sit in the front row much to Yixing’s chagrin. He has his books scattered on the desk in front of him, legs spread wide while leaning back on the chair. With a faux innocent look cast at Yixing, he places the pen he had picked up and rests it between the corners of his lips. He would scold the boys if he wasn’t so aroused by the sight.

For the sake of his own well being Yixing turns around, faces the board in front of him, and begins his lesson. It’s not one of his best. He stumbles over English words he should know by heart, and loses track of syntax on more than a few occasions. He feels a bead of sweat roll down the nape of his neck, and as he tugs at his shirt he wonders if the heat coursing through his body is from embarrassment or from the arousal induced by his favourite student. Maybe it’s both. Needless to say he ends class shortly and makes a beeline for his office.

***************************

He’s sitting on his brown leather chair, turned slightly to the side so he can feel a bit of the heat emitted from the sun rays beating against the windows. He’d loosened his tie a while ago as the heat was making him sweat a little. Slightly humming a tune under his breath, Yixing hears a soft knock on the door. His traitorous mind immediately thinks of one student, the one he is certain is behind the door right now but does not want to admit to. Taking no risks, Yixing adjusts his tie as his delicate “come in” carries across the room. The door opens slightly and with just a peek of a denim clad leg stepping inside the room Yixing knows it’s him. Of course it’s him, and Yixing tries his best to not groan out loud.

“Hello, Professor Zhang. I was hoping you would help me with what you taught during class today. I’m a bit confused.”

“Of course,” Yixing croaks out, eyeing the younger’s collarbones peeking out through his now unbuttoned plaid shirt. Great, not only would he have to try to suppress the urge to bend the boy over his desk, he’d also have to try to make up for his embarrassingly bad lesson.

And so the cycle repeats itself with Yixing’s further attempts at explaining the structure of the English language while his heart hammers in his chest like a trapped bird in a cage. Yet another hour spent with Sehun directing heated glances towards him, licks to his full lips and fingers brushing against his neck and collarbones. Yixing eats it all up. He can’t help himself. He can’t help himself from flirting back as he desperately tries to remain professional, tries to maintain his role as professor. Maybe Yixing wants to fall a little. Maybe Yixing wants to feel those lips against his own again. A slight snicker snaps him out of his thoughts and back to reality. “You’re staring at my lips, professor.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were.”

Yixing scowls and pushes Sehun’s textbooks towards him. “We’re done for today. You’re doing well. Your English is quite good although your pronunciation needs work,” Yixing says as he rests a hand on Sehun’s back and slightly pushes towards the door to see him out. Sehun turns his face towards him.

“Teach me.”

Yixing stops dead in his tracks and those two words echo in his mind over and over again as he stares at Sehun. He stares at the determination in the younger’s slightly hooded eyes, the parted lips, and tilted head. He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself even if he had tried. He grabs Sehun by the neck with one hand and pulls his waist to him with the other, and captures Sehun’s lips with his own as a slight groan claws its way through his own throat. The way Sehun’s lips form around his own and kiss back with force makes Yixing feel light headed - like he’s spiralling down towards earth among the clouds but the crash never comes. He licks along the seam of Sehun’s lips repeatedly until the boys lips part and allows his tongue inside to stroke against his own. As he licks the roof of the boy’s mouth Sehun whimpers and melts against Yixing’s chest. A sensitive spot Yixing thinks, and stores the information in the back of his mind. He repeats the action and then tries to pull away but Sehun’s got a hold of him by his hair. “Please,” Sehun utters in a single breath and immediately latches on to his lips again.

“Fuck. I can’t, Sehun” Yixing pants as he pulls away. “ I really can’t.” Yixing’s looking at him with pleading eyes trying to make him understand, trying to hold on to the last shreds of dignity and morality he has, as feeble of an attempt as it is. “Stop saying you can’t. Just, please. Now,” Sehun says as he peppers kisses along Yixing’s jaw, and he squirms under the touch. Yixing doesn’t miss the slight smirk on the boy’s lips, and his resolve crumbles easily.

“Okay. Okay. Tonight. Here. I’ll be correcting papers long after everybody is gone. Come here just for tonight,” Yixing says, trying to wrap his mind around the words spilling out his mouth. At the sight of Sehun’s eyes lighting up, and the bright smile spreading across his face, he can’t help but smile back even if he tries not to let it show as he tucks his lips between his teeth. “Okay. Tonight.” Sehun says as he steps back away from him and turns to leave. Yixing already misses his heat.

*****************

The sun has long set, the hallways of the university building empty and dark. The last faculty worker left long ago - leaving Yixing alone with the janitor going about his duties on the third floor as his only company. He is alone in his office and sitting on his favourite worn leather chair. The stack of papers he’s supposed to grade are illuminated by a desk lamp providing the only source of light in the room.

He had spent the entire day battling his desire for Sehun against his sense of morality and duty. Desperately trying to figure out ways to cancel the entire ordeal left him with a sense of hopelessness. Taking advantage of Sehun is out of the question. And yet, here he is buzzing with anticipation for the door to open.

A knock takes him out of his reverie and he looks up towards the door. The knob turns, door opening, long shadow cast over the floor as Sehun walks in. His plaid shirt has been replaced by a simple, low cut, white t-shirt but the same denims cling to every curve of his toned legs. He looks best like this Yixing muses as he gives him a once over. Simple, clean, and nothing to distract from the pointed features of his face.