major trigger warning for descriptions of self harm later on in the chapter, but its only like... references. I don't narrate someone hurting themselves or anything like that. Theres also a slightly sexual paragraph but its barely anything.
I hope its okay ! enjoy
"Okay, first person to pretend they know what X would equal if Y was 5.5 can go for an early lunch." Viktor said tiredly, leaning on one hand and massaging his temples with the other. He had barely been in this classroom for two hours and already he was beginning to understand why most teachers has given up: these kids were rude, sarcastic and didn't even try to understand what the hell he was talking about. Giving up now would be cowardly though, he knew that, so he had to take the hour break to re-evaluate his strategies.
A lone hand went up and he pointed at it. "Yes, Minami?"
"Twelve?" The two-toned boy chirped. He was constantly enthusiastic, Viktor had noticed that very quickly, which made up for the atmosphere of perpetual boredom that hung like thick fog in the air. Well, it was either boredom or smoke from a cigarette that had been lit at some point- he could only hazard a guess.
"That's… Correct? It's actually twelve. Wow." The fact that he was so surprised that one of these students had a basic understanding of math spoke for itself really. With a wave towards the door, he indicated that Minami was free to leave, who took this opportunity with a firm grasp and practically ran out the room.
"God, he's such a weirdo." Someone muttered. Viktor didn't know if it was directed at him or Minami, and he was too frustrated to ask or care.
Next period was literature, and judging by the slang that the pupils used in every goddamn sentence, he was doubtful that they could even form a grammatically correct sentence let alone read and analyse entire novels. If he thought math was hard then he was in for a real treat after break. Science utterly terrified him- a combination of writing and mathematical knowledge would absolutely fry their brains, and though it made him feel guilty to admit it, it was no wonder some of these kids had failed their exams so many times. Apparently art was another subject he had to teach and usually he'd scoff at the idea of 'emotional expression via painting' or whatever. Now it seemed like a luxury.
"Have any of you even been taught this before? Actually, scrap that; have any of you ever had a teacher who's stayed for more than a day?"
If he was going to help them, he wanted to get an idea of what he was working with.
"Nope." Jean-Jacques replied while studying his fingernails. Viktor had only found out his real name because it was scrawled in elaborate handwriting on his own hand. "We get some dumbass who's expecting to teach some cute 12-year-olds, they get terrified when they're met with us, and then they fuck off. Sometimes they stay for a couple of days but Yuri usually scares them away before then."
"What the fuck did you just say to me, you walking dead frog?" All of a sudden Yuri had pushed himself out of his seat and was crossing the classroom, which caught Viktor off guard since he had been pretty silent throughout most of the lesson. He had been doodling something on a scrap piece of paper- most definitely not anything to do with math- but at least he hadn't been throwing things across the room like Emil and Michele had taken to doing.
"Hey! Hey, sit down, both of you!" In a burst of energy Viktor leapt up and moved to stand in between the two teenagers. "There will be no fighting in this classroom!"
"How about the fucking corridor? If he wants to insult me-"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure, princess. Punch me in the face with those lady hands of yours."
Things were spiralling out of control quickly. That much was obvious just looking at the snarl on Yuri's face and the mocking smirk that Jean-Jacques strategically used to rile the other boy up. Viktor held up both of his hands to allow him to physically prevent either one of them from taking a step closer, and without hesitation, allowed his stern voice to raise to a shout.
"That's enough! Jean, stop provoking people! Yuri, calm down and get back in your seat before I keep you back for detention!"
"Detention? Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"Okay, that's it. The rest of you can go for lunch." Viktor quickly turned around to address the rest of the students. "Oh no, Yuri, not you. We need to talk." He followed Yuri to the other side of the room to make sure the blond didn't bolt out the door. Strangely, Otabek hadn't moved, remaining patiently in his seat next to Yuri's instead of joining the others.
"Aren't you going?" Otabek shook his head firmly at Viktor's question and didn't say anything else.
"He waits for me. We're friends. You know what a friend is, teach?"
"One thing I do know, Yuri Plisetsky, is that you are being extremely rude and as a member of staff I will not tolerate that."
Situations like these were when Viktor could silently thank his parents for being so strict with him as he grew up; without their firm words and discipline, he knew that he would have fallen apart by now. Despite adopting his happy-go-lucky personality and tendency to be nice to everyone he met, he knew how to make people listen to him. And he wasn't about to back down from a 5-foot-4 teenage boy who looked like he hadn't eaten for 3 weeks. He wasn't soft, and he certainly wasn't a pushover. Forgiving, yes. Definitely generous and peaceful. But he could also be overwhelmingly selfish and stubborn and he knew how to manipulate those qualities to get his own way when he needed to.
"What is it, Yuri? Insecurities? Are you embarrassed because you don't understand the work? It seems like none of you were following what I was saying, except Minami perhaps, so I know now to go slower next time. Would that help?"
"Fuck off. Don't patronise me." The blond defensively folded his arms over his chest and glared at Viktor with all the malice he could muster. "Why are you singling me out, anyway? Why not Emil, he was throwing balls of paper at you! Or fucking Mila, she was smoking and you told her to put it out and barely bat an eyelid."
"Because, kid-"
"Don't call me a kid, asshole."
"Fine. Because, Yuri, even though ninety-five percent of this class are rude and inconsiderate and give me a headache, they're just… Annoying. I tell Mila to put her cigarette out and she will. I can take the stack of paper away from Emil and Michele and I won't get any more paper aeroplanes with 'Viktor is a milf' written on them thrown at me. But you, Yuri? You have your mouth and your wit and your damn defensiveness. I can't take that away."
A small silence stretched out with Yuri and Viktor staring each other down. Otabek sat uncomfortably in the corner throughout the whole ordeal, glancing at his phone every minute or so, but otherwise not making any noise. Finally Yuri made an annoyed-sounding huff and averted his eyes to the floor.
"Whatever. You won't last long, don't go thinking you have control over me. Can I go to lunch now, or are you going to starve me, too?"
"You can go. You're dismissed. Don't let me catch you threatening to beat anyone up. I can tolerate annoying teenagers, but I won't tolerate bullying."
"Get out of my way, old man. Come on Beka."
Viktor ran his hands through his silver hair in exasperation as he watched his two students leave the room. The emptiness was welcomed with open arms and he sunk down in his seat with a weary sigh. They never taught him this in teacher training; whether it was because schools refused to admit they had troubled students, or because they had never dealt with situations like this, he didn't know. He'd have to find it out on his own. Mostly to prove Yuri wrong and show that he was going to stay and he was going to find a way to help them, however also because he knew in his heart that he was the person who could make a difference.
A notification on his phone pulled a smile to his lips, something that he thought was impossible in this environment. "Yuuri~ 3: I got the job! Main therapist, starting Thursday!" He gathered the energy to send a congratulatory reply to his boyfriend.
Not everything was awful. Soon he'd have the love of his life working in the same building as him. (Even if they did have to keep their relationship hidden).
Yuuri was the therapist, so Viktor didn't doubt that he'd end up meeting quite a few students from his very class.
(line break)
"Well that was a fucking drag. You understand anything he said?" Yuri scoffed, kicking his heels against the brick wall that he and Otabek were perched on. The rest of the students were sat in the canteen or on various benches that were scattered across the field, but this spot was reserved for them. It was an unwritten rule throughout every block.
"I can't do math. You know that." The other boy said with a small frown. With his leather jacket and permanently dark features, Yuri's constant anger and willingness to punch someone, the two of them had gathered a reputation for being 'those' kids- the ones you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Unless you were Jean-Jacques Leroy (but Yuri had a suspicion that that idiot was at least a little bit afraid of Otabek). They looked out for each other and that was all they needed.
"Yeah, I know. None of us can do math. It's a load of bullshit."
"No, I mean my… Nevermind." He was a man of little words and long sentences seemed to exhaust him. Yuri had grown accustomed to it after a while and was perfectly happy talking for the two of them, especially when every slight thing could send him off on an angry rant.
"Oh, your dyslexia. Number dyslexia. What is it called again?"
"Dyscalculia."
"Yeah, that." The two of them sat quietly for a few moments, simply observing the scene. Unfortunately for the teachers, class E2 wasn't the only class that was full of difficult kids; some of the 12 and 13-year-olds could be infuriating and required their own individual classes. Everyone had heard the stories that involved pre-teens setting fire to curtains and throwing books out of the 4th floor window. But those kids were just bored and wanted attention. There was a big, big difference between an attention-seeking child and the older teenagers with notorious problems that left the rest of the school keeping class E2 at arm's length.
Still, it was amusing to watch the other kids throw rocks at each other in some messed up variation of 'stuck in the mud'. Instead of tapping one another gently, they were lobbing huge stones at any moving target, and as long as they didn't land anywhere near him Yuri wasn't about to stop them.
"Do you reckon he'll stay long? The teacher, that is."
Otabek simply shrugged and reached into his backpack, shifting through unused books and a few clothing items until he finally found what he was looking for: two lunchboxes, each containing what looked to be a tub of rice and a granola bar. He kept one for himself and passed the other to Yuri.
"Thanks. What's this?" The blond asked, taking the box and making note of what he saw when the sleeves of Otabek's jacket rode up slightly.
"Rice. I cooked it this morning. The container is heatproof so it should still be warm."
"God, it's been fucking ages since I've ate anything hot."
Further conversation ceased as they ate hungrily. Otabek was much calmer in comparison to Yuri, who was shovelling food into his mouth as if it was the nicest thing he had ate in a long time. It probably was, Otabek observed sadly, frowning again when his friend moved on to the granola bar while he was only half way through his rice. There was a reason why he frequently brought Yuri lunch. He felt guilty that he couldn't offer him more, but the consequences of his parents finding out would result in them both going hungry.
"Want mine?" He asked, nodding towards his own bar. Even if they were both fucked up, at least they were nice to each other. Yuri accepted the offer without much protest.
When they had both finished, Otabek reached down to put their wrappers and plastic forks in the bin below them, reminding Yuri of something he wanted to ask about. Physical contact made him want to punch the person touching him at the best of times and throw up at the worst, however with Otabek it was different. Everyone else's touch was painful and scary and angry; Otabek's was laced with love and pleasure. Now Yuri simply took his hand in his own and gently pulled his sleeve up.
"Bad night?" The cluster of red lines on tanned skin spoke for itself, and so did the wince that came from Otabek's lips when Yuri gently stroked his thumb along the worst one, a delicate touch that he only gave to the Kazakh. Most of them had already formed a dark scab- made worse in appearance by dried blood that showed that Otabek hadn't cleaned them properly- but a few of them remained very raw and painful-looking.
"Yeah. That one bled like fuck." Yuri quickly took his thumb off the cut that Otabek was referencing and settled on just looking.
"No wonder. Stop fucking cutting on your wrists, you'll fuck yourself up one day. Rookie mistake. Stick to forearms and thighs like the rest of us."
"Where's the fun in that?"
To an outsider, the sound of two young boys joking about such a serious topic would be horrifying and concerning, although this was just another normal conversation to them. Telling each other to stop would be hypocritical and they both knew it.
"How about you?" Pulling his sleeve back down, Otabek turned his attention to the younger boy next to him.
"Haven't cut at all this week. Probably the longest I've ever gone."
"Yura, it's Tuesday."
"Exactly. Besides, my old ones are still healing." He shrugged and traced his fingers up and down his arms, feeling the bumps of scar tissue and scabs and band-aids. Even if he didn't have food, he had ample supply of medical equipment, and made a mental note to give some to Otabek and maybe teach him how to properly clean his stupid injuries. Infections were nasty. At least Otabek was 18 so the people at the hospital wouldn't tell his parents- that would be disastrous.
"Hey, wanna come 'round mine tonight? My parents have fucked off somewhere. I'll kiss your cuts and…. Other things." The deep voice pulled Yuri from his thoughts and cast a small blush across his pale skin. Luckily no-one was paying attention to them, so there were no stares or jeers at the sight of Otabek leaning against his friend and threading their fingers together (not that anyone would dare to jeer anyway). Yuri almost moaned at the words alone and nodded with a lustful look in his eyes.
Before he could say anything, the bell rang, signalling the end of break and the start of the next period with their new dumbass teacher.
"C'mon, we better go. I wonder what Sir has planned for literature. This should be a fucking riot."
"I'm good at literature." Otabek mumbled, giving Yuri's hand a small squeeze before dropping it and hopping off the wall.
"Yeah, thanks, Shakespeare. You can do my work for me then."
On the journey back, they joined with Leo and Guang Hong, who looked equally pissed about having to do actual lessons. At least the feeling seemed to be mutual throughout the class. Once they entered the E block, he quickly banished any feelings of happiness that came when he was alone with Otabek. Viktor seeing him in any state that differed from angry or bitter would make him seem week, and Yuri Plisetsky was not weak.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
shift+enter doesnt work for line breaks for me so sorry about the shitty (line break) part asdfghjk
pls review ? if you can? I live for validation and it makes my heart Warm
