No amount of coffee could wake Chūshi the next day and he lamented once again his father's shit timing. He woke up that morning with his hand practically glued to his pants, so both the bottoms and boxers had to be disposed of permanently. His youth cost him extra time that morning, so he looked a little like death warmed over, his wavy hair matted in some places, and bags under his chocolate eyes. His clothes were a little wrinkled too, and he hoped this kid didn't report back to his father somehow. His appearance today could possibly inspire his father to hit him.
Classes fell to the background as his thoughts swung on a pendulum between thinking about the thing he did last night and firmly not thinking about it. Abroad Chūshi had all kinds of experiences with diverse groups of people as part of his rebellion against his father. He'd even tried some of things he fantasized about with other men, but he'd never been that into it, usually only able to find release if they let him thrust with reckless abandon into the back of their throat.
Stop thinking about it, he berated himself as he entered the tutoring center. Chūshi looked at the tutoring information briefly earlier, but only to see what study room to go to and what books to check out. Because he'd left so late that morning he didn't run into Aoto. He planned on avoiding him going forward because he couldn't let himself slip. It was a good thing they didn't share any classes together.
He set the three suggested books down before falling into the chair closest to the door. He closed his eyes and leaned back to mentally prepare. Even though he would rather not tutor, much less tutor English, Chūshi did find teaching to be fulfilling in a way. At the very least it would distract him from last night's shame. The door opened and he took a deep breath, stood up, and opened his eyes…
"Hello" … to a new nightmare. It was Aoto, bag slung unevenly over his shoulder and a workbook in his pale, thin hand.
"Um, uh, h-hello," Chūshi felt on fire but desperately tried to ignore the sirens ringing in his head. "I'm Chūshi Oshiba, it's nice to meet you." He held out his hand. This is just a job. You're doing this to get dad off your back so you can't screw this up.
"Aoto Hoshino." Aoto shook his hand limply and quickly before skirting around him to the other chair.
Neither one of them seemed able to make eye contact. Chūshi felt watched as he reopened the tutoring assignment to pull up the exam they'd be going over. He made a note to comb over Aoto's file later.
"So, how about you tell me what your weaknesses are?" He cleared his throat as a way to switch into business mode and finally faced Aoto head on.
"… I'm not sure. Just not good at it I guess?" His voice was quiet even in the small room, empty save for them.
"Well, how long have you been taking English?"
Aoto closed his eyes and moved his lips clearly counting. Unbidden Chūshi recalled the steamy kiss they shared in his fantasy last night.
"A while…" He trailed off, flipping through the workbook not meeting Chūshi's eyes.
"I have a copy of the recent exam so I thought we could work through some of what you got wrong today so I can gauge where you are." It was like riding a bike, tutoring, and Chūshi felt his anxieties about what he in his dreams washed away.
Midway through the session Chūshi couldn't help but feel shock at how far behind Aoto seemed in his studies. For someone so nerdy… It almost didn't make sense but Chūshi figured that no one was perfect. It was almost comical that the Aoto's fatal flaw was English. Chūshi felt his lips form a smirk as Aoto repeated back to him his incorrect answer.
"Is this funny to you?" Those dark pools that had been avoiding him finally pinned him down. "Not very professional, are you?"
And like the asshole he knew himself to be, Chūshi said, "Yeah, a little. But you're not as bad as you think. We can totally turn your grade around." He smiled to try and lessen the blow.
Aoto stared back at him, black pools rippling in seemed like surprise. "You think… you can help me by the end of the semester?"
Chūshi recovered and nodded. "I know I don't look like much, and I'm sorry for being rude the other day and laughing. But I took the job, so I won't quit." Sure, he didn't take the job willingly, but he wasn't going to half ass it like he planned. He meant what he said to Aoto and hoped he believed him.
"How is an imbecile like you so good at this anyway?" Aoto muttered, a rose blush tinting his high cheekbones as he looked down at his exam.
"I was born here, but raised abroad," he responded, memorizing this moment to replay later when he couldn't sleep. "So, you could say that English is more of my first language than Japanese. But I grew up speaking both."
His father's face flashed in his mind and he felt his cheek twitch. He cleared his throat, making a big deal of flipping to the next problem. "But like I said, you're not too far behind. So for this question…"