Work Text:
“trace the answers to the test on my back. she’ll never know.”
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The sun blazed down on him, the heat making him feel like an overbaked potato. The screaming from the football match taking place on the other end of the field kept distracting him. He really wanted to look, but Taecyeon had already told him off twice for it. If Taecyeon caught him looking again, he would be screwed.
Honestly, screw the teacher for taking a surprise test in the scorching heat of May, making them all sit in the football field since none of the rooms were free. The old fart hadn’t even stayed to supervise, complaining about the heat and how his 'delicate health' couldn’t stand it. He’d called the prefects, Taecyeon and Jihyo, to supervise the test in his place.
Sweat rolled down his face, dripping onto his page. His uniform shirt was sticking to his back, his head was starting to ache. The grass was starting to feel itchy under his legs. He felt drowsy. His eyes were starting to feel heavy. A nap didn’t sound so bad right about now...
Something poked his back sharply. Jackson jumped, his clipboard, calculator and pen sliding off his lap. He caught Jihyo’s eye, who was looking at him suspiciously and he offered her an innocent smile. She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile and turned away.
Jackson ducked and turned around to glare at Jinyoung, who had poked him with his pencil.
“What was that for?” Jackson hissed in a low voice, looking around to make sure Taecyeon and Jihyo weren’t looking their way.
“You were about to fall asleep. You cannot afford to fail this test.” Jinyoung looked as bad as he felt. He was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. The heathen looked like he was dying of heat, but his sleeves were still not rolled up to his elbows and his shirt collar was still buttoned up. Jackson felt suffocated just looking at him.
“I’m failing this test either way.”
“You should’ve revised last night when I told you to.”
Jinyoung was right, he should have, but football practice had worn him out and their room had been too hot to concentrate on Integration. Maths was his worst subject and the coach had said he needed at least a B+ average to stay on the team.
“Help me out, then,” Jackson whispered desperately.
“How?”
Jackson bit his lip, thinking hard. He looked around at the others. Jaebum was too far ahead, head bent over his test, scribbling away. Mark looked serene as he solved one question after another. That fucker lived for these things. Youngjae looked lost, he always did; Jackson felt bad for him. His eyes found Bambam and Yugyeom. Yugyeom was sitting, looking as if he was staring straight ahead, but his other hand was behind his back, palm open. Bambam was squinting at it and scribbling furiously on his paper.
Well, there was an idea.
“Trace the answers to the test on my back.”
“What.” Jinyoung’s voice was an octave too high, attracting the attention of both prefects.
“Is something wrong?” inquired Taecyeon, striding over to them. Jackson was looking down at his paper, pencil in one hand, calculator in the other, looking like the picture of immense concentration.
“I just wanted to know what the time was, that’s all,” Jinyoung said in his best good boy voice.
“You have twenty minutes left.” The other students stirred to life at this declaration, papers turning and pencils flying over the page.
He was doomed. He was going to fail and he was going to be off the team, he was done for, nothing could save him now-
A finger landed on his back, cutting his train of thought short. The finger slowly moved up and down his back, coming to rest between his shoulder blades.
Jackson glanced at his paper.
1. If f(x) = 1/x then f -1 = ………..
(a) x (b) 1/x (c) 1/x2 (d) None
B. Jinyoung had traced the second letter of the alphabet. They were going in order. Jackson nodded slowly. The finger lifted and traced another letter.
They could do this.
-
It was lights out. Jackson flopped onto his bed, freshly showered and clean, ready to sleep like the dead until the next day.
But Jinyoung stormed in, wet from the shower, determined to ruin his plans. “I cannot believe you nearly got us both an F!”
“Did we get caught?”
“We could’ve!”
“But we didn’t.”
“What if we had?” pressed Jinyoung, stepping closer to the bed. “It wouldn’t have mattered for me, but you’d have been-”
Jackson cut Jinyoung short by pulling him into the bed and underneath him. Jinyoung tried to wriggle away but Jackson held fast, wrapping his arms and legs around him like an overly affectionate octopus. They laid like this for a while, Jackson resting his head on Jinyoung’s chest.
“Jackson,” Jinyoung starts again.
Jackson raises his head and looks at Jinyoung. He’s being serious, but his black hair is sticking up in random directions, which makes him look adorable. “We can’t do that again.”
“You’re right. I promise not to do it again.”
Jinyoung raises an eyebrow. “Just like you promised last time?”
“Pinky promise?” Jackson held up his pinky finger out to him. Jinyoung rolled his eyes, but entwined his finger with Jackson’s.
“So it’s settled then, time for -” Jackson yelped as Jinyoung reversed their positions, digging an elbow into his ribs (Jinyoung did that on purpose) before settling on top of him.
“What-” spluttered Jackson, confused by this sudden change.
“You’re heavy,” murmurs Jinyoung, using Jackson’s chest as a pillow.
“Are you calling me fat?”
His only answer was a soft snore.
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