Worth It
Title: Worth It
Author: Jusmine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He waited, and he hoped.
Word Count: 994
Pairing: John/Yassen
Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.
Notes: Thanks to Ara for for a little preliminary positive feedback. Hope you all enjoy, comments are always appreciated!
Yassen dimly recalled how his mother complained to her sister that no men had any manners anymore. She’d often repeated, “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am!” loudly, which Yassen hadn’t understood at the tender age of four. Now, at fifteen, he gathered that all of the men his mother had gone with had been interested in only one thing. And most, especially the last, had no qualms about how to get it.
Yassen had thought that all men were like that: uncaring, immoral, wanting to shag anything that moved. Certainly most of the men he’d ever met in the streets had been. But now here he was, staring at the evidence to the contrary.
He caught himself staring at John Rider entirely too frequently. But, really, it was impossible not to. The man was incredible, his every move sleek and fluid and dangerous. He was friendly, but at the same time, gave off a certain vibe that said in no uncertain terms that anyone who tried to fuck with him would be dead before they could blink.
Many times, John had caught Yassen staring at him, even if they were standing a roomful of people apart. It was like the older man had a sixth sense, because it wasn’t just Yassen. Many people, hardened assassins or otherwise, could hardly help staring at the man, and John always felt it, always caught them.
It came in very useful in combat situations, so Yassen couldn’t really complain, but it did embarrass him thoroughly when John caught him out. Nearly made him blush once, which really wouldn’t have been good for the image he projected.
Every day, John trained Yassen. He trained him to be his best and beyond. Yassen had many opportunities to watch John while the older man demonstrated a technique, or taught him about bombs or poisons.
Two years passed in a rush of training with John, and trying to stop falling for the older man. Emotions had never done him any good before, no reason why they would start now.
But he couldn’t stop himself staring at John sometimes. At least he managed to keep the desire hidden most times.
Still, John must have sensed it regardless, because now there were awkward silences where once there would have been jokes and conversations, or even just companionable silences.
Yassen could feel the tension building, forcing a wedge between teacher and student. It was becoming so tangible that he could practically see it. Others did see it. Yassen heard the murmurs and the rumors all around him.
Every day, Yassen was finding it that little bit harder to concentrate on what John was teaching him.
John had him in a hold of some kind. Yassen could feel his firm muscles through the layers of clothes, and he could smell John’s unique scent even over the stale sweat that permeated the gym.
Yassen was supposed to be getting out of the hold, but he couldn’t bring himself to want to. He could feel John’s impatience, and if it were any other time, he would have done anything to please the older man. But it just felt too good to be in this close of contact after years of wanting.
All too soon, John released him with an almost inaudible curse.
Yassen straightened up and watched John’s back silently. Finally, John turned back to him. “No,” he said, firmly, and if Yassen hadn’t heard the slight quiver in the familiar voice, he might have let the matter go. He knew when to cut his losses, and this wasn’t one of those times.
He took a step forward towards John. The other man didn’t step back, and in anyone else, Yassen would have taken that to mean surrender. But this was John; this was his way of not showing any weakness.
“Why not?” Yassen asked bluntly.
“It’s not right.” This time, the quiver wasn’t evident, and Yassen backed off, even though he didn’t want to.
He didn’t mention it again, not even when he felt John’s eyes lingering on his body, or when the tension in the room was almost too much to bear, or even when he could feel John’s resolve flickering.
Yassen had always known that John was somehow different from all of the other Scorpia agents. He seemed to actually have morals and care about people. That was why Yassen had been drawn to that in the first place. He was curious, and the thought of someone caring about him was alien, and hardly seemed possible.
Yassen understood that John’s morals were vastly different from his own, even if he didn’t understand the motives behind them. Knowing John, he probably didn’t want to be in a relationship with his student.
For once, Yassen wished that John were different.
But then he remembered that that was why he’d fallen for him in the first place, because he was different than anyone else Yassen had ever met, because he was unique. Because he was John.
So he waited, and he hoped.
---
Finally, when John finished training Yassen, he smiled and nodded. And there was something in John’s expression, something that Yassen had seen only flashes of before, but was now displayed in his eyes for Yassen, if not the whole world, to see.
It was late that night, and Yassen was sitting in his room, trying to read and trying to not think of what was making it hard to concentrate. If he hoped, it would be an even further fall, a more painful -
Yassen felt him even before there was a soft knock on the door. He took a deep breath, and turned to knob, letting it swing open.
There was John, looking ever so slightly unsure of himself, and Yassen smiled with his eyes.
With John’s warm hands on his face, chest, back, everywhere, and his taste in Yassen’s mouth, Yassen couldn’t help but decide that it had been more than worth the wait.
Author: Jusmine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He waited, and he hoped.
Word Count: 994
Pairing: John/Yassen
Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.
Notes: Thanks to Ara for for a little preliminary positive feedback. Hope you all enjoy, comments are always appreciated!
Yassen dimly recalled how his mother complained to her sister that no men had any manners anymore. She’d often repeated, “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am!” loudly, which Yassen hadn’t understood at the tender age of four. Now, at fifteen, he gathered that all of the men his mother had gone with had been interested in only one thing. And most, especially the last, had no qualms about how to get it.
Yassen had thought that all men were like that: uncaring, immoral, wanting to shag anything that moved. Certainly most of the men he’d ever met in the streets had been. But now here he was, staring at the evidence to the contrary.
He caught himself staring at John Rider entirely too frequently. But, really, it was impossible not to. The man was incredible, his every move sleek and fluid and dangerous. He was friendly, but at the same time, gave off a certain vibe that said in no uncertain terms that anyone who tried to fuck with him would be dead before they could blink.
Many times, John had caught Yassen staring at him, even if they were standing a roomful of people apart. It was like the older man had a sixth sense, because it wasn’t just Yassen. Many people, hardened assassins or otherwise, could hardly help staring at the man, and John always felt it, always caught them.
It came in very useful in combat situations, so Yassen couldn’t really complain, but it did embarrass him thoroughly when John caught him out. Nearly made him blush once, which really wouldn’t have been good for the image he projected.
Every day, John trained Yassen. He trained him to be his best and beyond. Yassen had many opportunities to watch John while the older man demonstrated a technique, or taught him about bombs or poisons.
Two years passed in a rush of training with John, and trying to stop falling for the older man. Emotions had never done him any good before, no reason why they would start now.
But he couldn’t stop himself staring at John sometimes. At least he managed to keep the desire hidden most times.
Still, John must have sensed it regardless, because now there were awkward silences where once there would have been jokes and conversations, or even just companionable silences.
Yassen could feel the tension building, forcing a wedge between teacher and student. It was becoming so tangible that he could practically see it. Others did see it. Yassen heard the murmurs and the rumors all around him.
Every day, Yassen was finding it that little bit harder to concentrate on what John was teaching him.
John had him in a hold of some kind. Yassen could feel his firm muscles through the layers of clothes, and he could smell John’s unique scent even over the stale sweat that permeated the gym.
Yassen was supposed to be getting out of the hold, but he couldn’t bring himself to want to. He could feel John’s impatience, and if it were any other time, he would have done anything to please the older man. But it just felt too good to be in this close of contact after years of wanting.
All too soon, John released him with an almost inaudible curse.
Yassen straightened up and watched John’s back silently. Finally, John turned back to him. “No,” he said, firmly, and if Yassen hadn’t heard the slight quiver in the familiar voice, he might have let the matter go. He knew when to cut his losses, and this wasn’t one of those times.
He took a step forward towards John. The other man didn’t step back, and in anyone else, Yassen would have taken that to mean surrender. But this was John; this was his way of not showing any weakness.
“Why not?” Yassen asked bluntly.
“It’s not right.” This time, the quiver wasn’t evident, and Yassen backed off, even though he didn’t want to.
He didn’t mention it again, not even when he felt John’s eyes lingering on his body, or when the tension in the room was almost too much to bear, or even when he could feel John’s resolve flickering.
Yassen had always known that John was somehow different from all of the other Scorpia agents. He seemed to actually have morals and care about people. That was why Yassen had been drawn to that in the first place. He was curious, and the thought of someone caring about him was alien, and hardly seemed possible.
Yassen understood that John’s morals were vastly different from his own, even if he didn’t understand the motives behind them. Knowing John, he probably didn’t want to be in a relationship with his student.
For once, Yassen wished that John were different.
But then he remembered that that was why he’d fallen for him in the first place, because he was different than anyone else Yassen had ever met, because he was unique. Because he was John.
So he waited, and he hoped.
---
Finally, when John finished training Yassen, he smiled and nodded. And there was something in John’s expression, something that Yassen had seen only flashes of before, but was now displayed in his eyes for Yassen, if not the whole world, to see.
It was late that night, and Yassen was sitting in his room, trying to read and trying to not think of what was making it hard to concentrate. If he hoped, it would be an even further fall, a more painful -
Yassen felt him even before there was a soft knock on the door. He took a deep breath, and turned to knob, letting it swing open.
There was John, looking ever so slightly unsure of himself, and Yassen smiled with his eyes.
With John’s warm hands on his face, chest, back, everywhere, and his taste in Yassen’s mouth, Yassen couldn’t help but decide that it had been more than worth the wait.