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“Seonsaengnim seems tired lately.” One girl murmured.
“It’s because tournament day’s coming up.” Her deskmate replied.
Seongje looked up and huffed. They could at least try to be subtle. One thing he’s had to come to terms with teaching in an all girls school is just how casually fearless the students were. A sort of blasè air that seemed innate to them. Or maybe they were just all brats.
“If you got time to chat, get up and solve the question, Lee Yejin.” He said with a light rap on the girl’s head with his guidebook. All he got was an eyeroll and huff as she got up to do so.
At first, he had a ‘scary’ look to him that gave students and faculty alike a wide berth so he had to turn the charm up to keep his job. And as a consequence, he’s been reduced to ‘Annoying older brother’ by his class. At least they do well enough on tests.
“Yejin-ah, check the equation in your formula. You’re gonna mess up again.” He corrected and watched her hastily erase it and get it right then addressed the class. “And about tournament day, whether you’re a competitor or not you all have to be at your best behaviour.”
The slight non sequitur had signalled an unspoken break in the lesson, evident by how some of the students relaxed and others stirred like they had just stopped dozing off.
“Seongsaenim, we don’t get homework because the whole school has to support the team right?”
“Can’t they move it to a Friday or something?
“Are you going to be with the cheering squad?”
He let the questions wash over him. Just his luck being stuck with the freshman class. But before he could even begin to answer anything, a sharp crack resounded in the room, glass flying. It was enough to startle even him, registering the shocked screaming and scanning around to see if anyone’s hurt. Then he saw a basketball and the cause of his headache on the floor. Muted shock turned to annoyance in an instant. He grabbed the ball and stomped to the remains of the window, where Park Humin seemed appropriately terrified.
“Baku! You shitty shot, what are you trying to do, assassinate me?” He called out.
“Wah, Geum Seongje-nim don’t kill me! Maybe if Miha passed it bet-”
“Coach Baku, don’t pin this on me!” One of the players angrily squawked.
If that idiot can’t aim his shots, then he’ll show him. With his own strength, he didn’t need to propel the ball. One hard smack and it was hurtling right for Baku’s head, reaching its target with a thud solid enough to send him to the ground.
“Wah, no wonder Seonsangnim’s got dark under eyes.” One of the girls in his class murmured.
“Seonsangnim, is class over now? Safety first and all that.” A girl proposed with agreeing hums and murmurs. Their minds were already set, his outburst barely phasing them.
“Fine. Please mind the glass. Be careful cleaning it up.” Seongje mumbled and the residual shock had melted away completely, some girls already standing up to see the damage.
“It’s almost a perfect circle, amazing.” One marvelled.
“Coach Baku’s so strong~!” Another cooed.
“Too bad he’s an absolute idiot.” A student sighed.
That was putting it kindly. Seongje didn’t even stop by the staffroom as he beelined to the field and found Baku pouting while he rubbed his head, looking like a kicked puppy of all things. He hated when he looked like that. Because Seongje had to be the adult once again, had to stand with him as they got brought to the principal’s later and he had to be responsible for an idiot like him. But then he looked at him with those eyes and had to fight the grin creeping up his face.
Baku was so expressive that it involuntarily made Seongje laugh and that would definitely break the tension. He must have at least been smirking because Baku’s face smoothed out and he grinned back. “Nice throw, Seongje-yah!” He was loud at the best of times but was practically a walking megaphone out in the field.
Seongje winced and smacked his head again. “Set the balls better. Why the hell did you aim there anyway?”
Baku spun the ball in his hands and shrugged. “I dunno. I just saw you at the window and wanted to say hi.”
On anyone else it would sound sarcastic but Seongje knew better. He could hear the girls snickering and so he swiped the ball.
“Okay, back in positions or you’re all doing suicides till after the home bell.” He warned and ignored their groans.
“Even coach? It’s his fault anyway.” Someone grumbled.
“Right, Haewon-ah. So he’ll run right with you. Now c’mon, into position.”
He wasn’t a coach or anything, nor did he want to even be one, so he got stuck with being faculty supervisor. Having to deal with Baku’s idiocy and reluctantly get swept in with managing even more kids than he wagered. Still, discussing plays and afterwards coaching the girls through cooldown stretches and handing out refreshments became routine for him.
Despite himself, Baku was a firm leader. Energetic, emotionally aware and more than ready to call out a bad play. He couldn’t stay still enough during the game that Seongje was tempted to tell him to join in but still stayed back and watched.
It was a long day and soon enough the girls hit the showers. Baku was pouring water down his vest. Seongje stared a bit too long. “You could at least get most of it in your mouth. Or take a shower.”
“But this is quicker though.” Baku replied simply and stretched. “Ack! My shoulders are sore.” He whined and sat down heavily. “Maybe if you helped out, seonsaengnim.”
In any other time Seongje would have told him to suck it up and use some muscle spray but Baku was looking at him with those puppy eyes and he could feel that smirk coming before he could stop it. If he didn’t know better he’d think Baku did that deliberately to break tension and get what he wants.
So now Seongje had to dig his thumbs into his super defined shoulder and neck muscles, hearing him breathe, watching him flinch and let out quiet little whimpers when he dug his thumbs in. His back was already damp with water and sweat, would he notice if he dragged his tongue against it? Would Baku let out a stupid little squawk and wiggle away? Or would he groan and move in? His face was already so close. He dug in his thumbs a little more to hear him whine.
“Coach? Do you have the gym keys?” A voice called out and Seongje couldn’t manage to jump away without looking guilty as hell. Baku was of course, nonplussed.
“Oh yeah, catch.” He reached in his pocket and flung them at the team captain who caught them easily, then gave them both an assessing stare.
To get the heat off him, Seongje piped up, “He was arranging a nicer restaurant for our post game victory celebration after the tournament.” He was rewarded with an excited grin from the captain and a confused look from Baku that turned to horror as she probably rushed to share the good news.
“What’d you do that for? What’s wrong with fried chicken?” Baku complained.
“Everything in moderation. Plus they can play better if you let their imaginations run wilder.” Seongje replied and after a put upon sigh, relented, “I’ll help you front it when we win.” A certainty they didn’t even need to fathom. Of course they would win, Baku was their coach after all. And after hearing that Baku swept him in a hug. Seongje would normally tell him to break it up or say the big oaf was crushing his ribs but he could feel Baku’s firm hand down his waist and the latent strength in his arms. Keeping his arms at his sides granted more surface area too, after all. Just one of the things that made his mostly uneventful life worth living.