It's utterly unfair for Mo Ran to look the way he does when he smiles and be aware of it. Chu Wanning's heart trips and falls in his dimples every time, the way his long eyelashes frame the peculiar hue of his eyes and it would be a lie saying he doesn't like when they're on him. He's tempted to play right in his palm, when he receives this kind of attention, and it terrifies him.
He's a ridiculous, disgusting old man, for staring at that smile and wishing he could have it for himself, wishing Mo Ran could like him, even a little bit. He's so tired of all this antagonizing —but he perfectly knows it's just because of his terribly stubborn, unlovable personality. Mo Ran surely wishes he would've been different and Chu Wanning too, wishes he could've been someone worthy of his pupil's affection.
He stiffens and huffs from his nose, like it's unbecoming for a young man to try and coax others the way Mo Ran is doing it. "Don't play around, Mo Weiyu." He scolds him, but, as it often happens with Chu Wanning, the edge of his words doesn't carry over to his actions. Standing behind him, he bends forward to wrap his hand around Mo Ran's again, crowding him without realizing. His chest hovers the other's back without touching it, his ponytail slips forward and may tickle his student.
He leads his hand again, this time awfully aware of the heat coming off Mo Ran's body, as always the two of them on opposite ends of the spectrum. He holds him for longer this time —when have Mo Ran's hands become this big, that it's difficult for his own to enwrap it completely?—, enough to draw a string of characters, until the flowing, rather than dragging, quality of the motion has hopefully become clearer to him. His ponytail must graze against the other's ear when he straightens up again. "There. Focus." He's proud of himself for sounding as stern as always and not as breathless as he feels.
Whatever hopes Mo Ran has of his erection going away on its own die off the moment Chu Wanning leans over him. His long hair tickles his shoulder, and he has to resist the urge to shiver when that scent hits his nose again. Mo Ran is so hard he feels like a stiff wind might make him come, like some sort of joke, and he has to focus on breathing while Chu Wanning holds his hand, afraid he might breathe in too deeply and then come, or perhaps stop breathing altogether.
It would be so easy to grab him and bend him over the nearest surface and lean over his teacher and be the one invading Chu Wanning's senses, but he can't. He likes Shi Mei, and all of this reaction to Chu Wanning is just... pent-up nerves and frustration and attraction to Chu Wanning's physical body. Nothing more. Mo Ran can hold off until he's out of detention.
Attempting to focus on the calligraphy is difficult, but he does manage since the other option is to have Chu Wanning leaning over him again and again, and there is something about Chu Wanning that inspires Mo Ran to learn. Despite his temper, Chu Wanning's always been patient when it comes to things like this, taking time to explain things to Mo Ran when he'd been genuinely confused. Mo Ran knows he's not book smart, not the type to get into a grand university without assistance— hence the fencing— but Chu Wanning's never treated him as something lesser.
He doesn't say anything right away when his teacher straightens up and it takes him a moment to gather his wits about him, feeling caught adrift. Eventually, he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at him, some of the antagonism dripping away from him. It'll be back, he's sure of it, but in this moment, there's something a little delicate.
"Thanks, laoshi," he says, and repeats the characters. His handwriting is nowhere near as neat as Chu Wanning's, but it's slightly better, and he finds it easier to write them now, letting his hand flow rather than pushing the brush. Much like how he'd flow with a sword in his hands, lunging at his opponent, guiding the match, rather than brute-forcing something.
Chu Wanning's eyes soften at the edges in the shadow of a smile, that can be spotted only by someone who knows him well enough to catch the ever minute shift of expression. He likes seeing Mo Ran relax and he likes when he understands what he's explained, because he gains a light in his eyes. Mo Ran has endless potential, that's why Chu Wanning fights so often with his fencing teacher —because he's not one of those people whose only chance at a brighter future is clinging to a sport. He can be anything he sets his mind to, because he's brilliant and determined; Mo Ran himself just forgets it sometimes. And Chu Wanning enjoys patiently teaching him and making him remember that.
"No need." He replies quietly when he's thanked and he walks to the side of the desk now, watching as Mo Ran puts his lesson into practice, humming pleased at the result. "Very good, Mo Ran." He compliments him and he reaches to pat his shoulder in appreciation, before he remembers himself —he's definitely touched him too much today, it's a wonder Mo Ran hasn't shown disgust yet—, and he pulls back, just removing some lint from his student's jacket. Unlike what many think, Chu Wanning is not stingy with praise, when it's deserved. He just doesn't like making a big scene over achievements, as much as he doesn't like making a big scene in general, to be fair.
"When you're done with that sentence, you can go." He declares softly, while pacing in the opposite direction, putting some distance between them. He's been too close for too long, it's unbefitting. He turns his arm wrist up, to check his watch: Mo Ran shouldn't be late for practice, if he puts the same effort he's put so far and finishes it off neatly. There's no need to keep him there for longer and make him boil in resentment for missing his beloved fencing, when they've miraculously reached a truce today.
People praise Mo Ran for many reasons, but often it feels hollow and unimportant. It's not always unearned, but it feels that way sometimes. Chu Wanning's praise is different; when he says it, it's because it was earned, through hard work and progress. Mo Ran grins at him, feeling mollified, the resentment in him minimal. He's still hard, and he still can't help but think about his teacher in ways that he shouldn't be— how he'd like to hear Chu Wanning say those words while doing something else— but it's softer now, easier to handle.
Until Chu Wanning steps away. He should be happy to get out of there, and Mo Ran mostly is, but it feels wrong somehow. Of course, Chu Wanning doesn't want to keep him there, he has someone waiting for him.
Thinking about that will be dangerous, Mo Ran knows, so he focuses on finishing the sentence as instructed. It's definitely not as good as Chu Wanning's calligraphy, but then very little can match his handwriting. But it's better than anything Mo Ran's written recently, and he feels an odd sense of pride over it.
"Done," he says, and makes a show of packing up, although the calligraphy supplies are Chu Wanning's, and he leaves them in a neat, orderly row on the desk. He can be tidy and polite when he wants to be, and it shows. "See you tomorrow, laoshi."
He escapes after that, quickly departing the room before Chu Wanning has a chance to look at him closely and see the problem he's still having and disappears to go handle that. He has to deal with it before fencing practice.
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He's a ridiculous, disgusting old man, for staring at that smile and wishing he could have it for himself, wishing Mo Ran could like him, even a little bit. He's so tired of all this antagonizing —but he perfectly knows it's just because of his terribly stubborn, unlovable personality. Mo Ran surely wishes he would've been different and Chu Wanning too, wishes he could've been someone worthy of his pupil's affection.
He stiffens and huffs from his nose, like it's unbecoming for a young man to try and coax others the way Mo Ran is doing it. "Don't play around, Mo Weiyu." He scolds him, but, as it often happens with Chu Wanning, the edge of his words doesn't carry over to his actions. Standing behind him, he bends forward to wrap his hand around Mo Ran's again, crowding him without realizing. His chest hovers the other's back without touching it, his ponytail slips forward and may tickle his student.
He leads his hand again, this time awfully aware of the heat coming off Mo Ran's body, as always the two of them on opposite ends of the spectrum. He holds him for longer this time —when have Mo Ran's hands become this big, that it's difficult for his own to enwrap it completely?—, enough to draw a string of characters, until the flowing, rather than dragging, quality of the motion has hopefully become clearer to him. His ponytail must graze against the other's ear when he straightens up again. "There. Focus." He's proud of himself for sounding as stern as always and not as breathless as he feels.
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It would be so easy to grab him and bend him over the nearest surface and lean over his teacher and be the one invading Chu Wanning's senses, but he can't. He likes Shi Mei, and all of this reaction to Chu Wanning is just... pent-up nerves and frustration and attraction to Chu Wanning's physical body. Nothing more. Mo Ran can hold off until he's out of detention.
Attempting to focus on the calligraphy is difficult, but he does manage since the other option is to have Chu Wanning leaning over him again and again, and there is something about Chu Wanning that inspires Mo Ran to learn. Despite his temper, Chu Wanning's always been patient when it comes to things like this, taking time to explain things to Mo Ran when he'd been genuinely confused. Mo Ran knows he's not book smart, not the type to get into a grand university without assistance— hence the fencing— but Chu Wanning's never treated him as something lesser.
He doesn't say anything right away when his teacher straightens up and it takes him a moment to gather his wits about him, feeling caught adrift. Eventually, he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at him, some of the antagonism dripping away from him. It'll be back, he's sure of it, but in this moment, there's something a little delicate.
"Thanks, laoshi," he says, and repeats the characters. His handwriting is nowhere near as neat as Chu Wanning's, but it's slightly better, and he finds it easier to write them now, letting his hand flow rather than pushing the brush. Much like how he'd flow with a sword in his hands, lunging at his opponent, guiding the match, rather than brute-forcing something.
no subject
"No need." He replies quietly when he's thanked and he walks to the side of the desk now, watching as Mo Ran puts his lesson into practice, humming pleased at the result. "Very good, Mo Ran." He compliments him and he reaches to pat his shoulder in appreciation, before he remembers himself —he's definitely touched him too much today, it's a wonder Mo Ran hasn't shown disgust yet—, and he pulls back, just removing some lint from his student's jacket. Unlike what many think, Chu Wanning is not stingy with praise, when it's deserved. He just doesn't like making a big scene over achievements, as much as he doesn't like making a big scene in general, to be fair.
"When you're done with that sentence, you can go." He declares softly, while pacing in the opposite direction, putting some distance between them. He's been too close for too long, it's unbefitting. He turns his arm wrist up, to check his watch: Mo Ran shouldn't be late for practice, if he puts the same effort he's put so far and finishes it off neatly. There's no need to keep him there for longer and make him boil in resentment for missing his beloved fencing, when they've miraculously reached a truce today.
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Until Chu Wanning steps away. He should be happy to get out of there, and Mo Ran mostly is, but it feels wrong somehow. Of course, Chu Wanning doesn't want to keep him there, he has someone waiting for him.
Thinking about that will be dangerous, Mo Ran knows, so he focuses on finishing the sentence as instructed. It's definitely not as good as Chu Wanning's calligraphy, but then very little can match his handwriting. But it's better than anything Mo Ran's written recently, and he feels an odd sense of pride over it.
"Done," he says, and makes a show of packing up, although the calligraphy supplies are Chu Wanning's, and he leaves them in a neat, orderly row on the desk. He can be tidy and polite when he wants to be, and it shows. "See you tomorrow, laoshi."
He escapes after that, quickly departing the room before Chu Wanning has a chance to look at him closely and see the problem he's still having and disappears to go handle that. He has to deal with it before fencing practice.