A short little ficcy long after the time I should be sleeping.  Shall work on my other stuff soon, but for now, enjoy this one.  As always, comments appreciated. Pissed

*****

"I don't get it."

Oh no, not another temper tantrum.  Spare him of that.

"I don't fuckin' get it."

Great.  Just great.  Barely into the third tutorial period and he was already getting a huge, throbbing ache in his left temple.  And a frustrated, too-attractive man glaring at him impatiently.

He was starting to get irritated.

"I.  Don't.  Fuckin'.  Get.  It."

'I heard you the first time,' Houjun thought.  'And it was much more effective without the swear.'  He calmly returned the dark stare and crossed his arms.  Already, he had stopped hoping they would get anything done in the hour.

He was Ri Houjun, an honours student in his fourth year, about to advance into the complicated and technical world of engineering science.  He could handle difficult equations and long words both.  He could handle beating four completely lack-witted heads into the ground, ones who had dared to stir his anger.

But he doubted he could handle Tasuki.

The reason probably lay in the fact that Tasuki didn't want to be handled, but that was irrelevant.  Houjun got immensely aggravated when he came to the knowledge that he couldn't handle something.  To him, that tasted too much like failure.  And failure he could not have.

Ok.  Take a deep breath-- inhale, exhale.  See, he's only trying to goad you into exploding in his face, and then there would be two idiots in the room.

But that didn't stop him from being irritated.

With much effort, he broke the staring contest and tapped on the open physics book in front of him.  He would deal with this rationally and not let the other drive him into irritation.  "Look at the question again."  Note the tone-- smooth, placating, the essence of wisdom and logic.

Tasuki plunked down beside him sullenly and tried again.  For about five more minutes.

Score, a new record.

And then the cycle began all over again.  So, reasonably, Houjun used the exact same words to calm the younger man and expected exactly the same result.

Which didn't happen.

After the first lucid curses, Houjun started to wonder whether he should close the windows or not.  Then he stopped wondering, as Tasuki's voice rose to decimals clearly heard, windows or no.

Look, the child is throwing a tantrum.  Ignore him for a while and surely he'll run out of breath and determination.  Methodical, patient Houjun decided to let him vent out his frustrations, so he sat comfortably in his chair, waiting for it to stop.  Only it didn't stop.  Tasuki went on and on, about the course, the textbook, the teacher teaching it-- in such great terms and detail and Houjun's cheeks turned an embarrassed red.

When there seemed no ebbing to the flow, Houjun stood up.  "That's enough.  Let us continue," he said in his best icy tones, which never seemed to fail him.  There's a first time for everything.  Tasuki continued his rantings without any pause.

Houjun heaved a sigh and went to stand in front of the younger student.  "Look Tasuki, there really isn't any need--"

"--freakin' idiotic, doesn't even know the difference between--"

"--let's just settle down and look--"

"--wonder what kinda parents would raise such a--"

"--this is quite simple, if you use--"

"--ten bucks his mumma was--"

Horrified, he cut off that one before it even started.  "SHUT UP!!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.  Tasuki threw one surprised look at him.  And started up again before the silence even had time to echo.

This was past tolerance.  He had half a mind to throw Tasuki out in mid-rant, but-- wouldn't that mean that he had failed at something?  Tutor another student, as minor as it was?  No no, failure wasn't a good thing.  There must be some way out of this situation.  Look at the problem . . .  Step number one, stop Tasuki from shouting.  How was he supposed to do that?  But he had to take the first step, or this man would be screaming all night at his apartment.

Houjun stormed right over, roughly turned the younger student around by the shoulders, and-- and-- kissed him.

The seconds ticked by.  Tasuki's hands slowly unclenched, dropped down to his sides.  Houjun stepped away.

"Now," he said, composed, trying not to notice Tasuki's utterly flabbergasted expression, "Shall we continue?"

He wasn't irritated anymore.