LINK: I Just Really Hate Your Face
summary: Top Student Damian Wayne is assigned to tutor his high school's resident Juvenile Delinquent, Jonathan Kent, who seems less interested in his work and more interested in his handsome tutor.
Damian is *not* having it.
aka the Bad Boy x Good Student Jondami AU no one really asked for but i delivered anyways
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that, sir?” Damian gritted out, unbelieving.
Oblivious to the pain in his voice, the principal repeated what he had said just moments before in an overly-cheery tone.
“You are being assigned to tutor Jonathan Kent. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get his grades up by the end of this year, for both semesters. And perhaps you may be able to corral him into actually showing at his classes.”
Damian controlled the scowl beginning to show on his face. Jonathan Kent was the worst possible student he could have gotten. What would merely associating himself with a boy like that do to his spotless reputation? Surely, this would be placed on his record, and he didn’t see how tutoring the school’s resident juvenile delinquent would appeal him to universities.
And he was supposed to influence him? Gods above, help him.
“Sir. With all due respect, why is he even in this program? Certainly there are many other viable candidates…more respectable people that would benefit from my teaching.” he attempted to phrase this in a way that was not outright insulting.
“Damian, you are well aware, I'm sure, that you are this academy’s top student, and you’ve worked hard to get to this spot, unlike many other kids. I think that you can give Mr. Kent a push in the right direction, if not outright change him for the better. You signed up for this program, did you not?”
“I did, sir.” if not only for the nice view if would give his college admission.
“Then you will work with the student assigned to you. However, if there is no improvement, or you truly can’t manage him, you will have the option to switch, or drop the program completely. Is this more reasonable?”
Hm. It would have to do. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir.”
Let it be known that Damian Wayne was not a quitter, and stubborn enough to move a mountain with a single word if he so chose. Jonathan Kent would be a changed student by the end of the year, if he had his way.
Jon Kent rolled into school at approximately 12:37 on a saturday morning, already fifteen minutes late to his tutoring session. It was absolute hell for those forcing him to go to even make him get dressed, and he was prepared to stall as long as possible. Hell, if he was lucky, the tutor would be pretty and he could score himself a ticket outta there with a wink and a few well timed smiles.
He entered the library, doing a quick once over, straightening his jacket and checking his eyeliner.
“Your studies are much more important than your appearance, Mr. Kent.” a voice drawled from behind him, and as he turned, a smirk came over his features.
Hello, Gorgeous.
The boy in front of him had delicately sharp features, striking green eyes framed by long lashes. His skin was a tantalizing carmel, clashing beautifully with the forest sleeves of his sweater.
“If you could remove your jaw from the floor, we should begin.”
He had a mouth on him too. Perfect.
“No name for me? Guess I'll just have to call you Beautiful.” Jon purred, the other boy’s face twisting in something that was definitely not a blush.
“It’s Damian. My name is Damian. We’re fifteen minutes behind already, if you could please take a seat.”
Jon sidled up to his side as they walked towards the table with a sheaf of papers.
“Damian, huh?” he tested the name out, rolling off his tongue pleasantly.
“Sounds familiar. Have we had a class together? I could swear we have chemistry .”
Damian looked torn between strangling Jon and strangling himself, settling only for a glare.
Jon was getting slightly annoyed. This guy was not taking the bait, and that was an excellent line for a nerd.
“ Sit. ” Damian pointed to the chair, Jon muttering ”Bossy.” under his breath.
“Let me make myself extremely clear, Jonathan, I have one job here, and that is to raise your grades. If I don't, it will not look good for me, and will look even worse for you. I’m not here for you to flirt with, make friends, or be stared at, nor roped into whatever it is you have going on here.” Damian gestured to his whole with a manilla folder in hand.
Well. If that wasn’t both flat out rejection and warning all at once, Jon'd be dammed. It hurt his pride slightly and added more fuel to the slowly building flame of annoyance.
“And what is this , exactly? Is that why you’re here? Teacher’s Pet turns the bad one into a brand-new man ?”
Damian snorted. “As if anyone could part you from your disastrous fashion and life choices. No, as I've stated, I'm here to make your grades better, by having you do all the work.”
“That’s a contradictory statement.”
“Would you look at that, you’re already using your big boy words.” He deadpanned, flipping open the folder to show Jon’s transcripts.
“Honestly, just looking at these makes me want to burn them. The only class you are currently passing is AP Physics, with an 89%.”
Huh, apparently he wasn’t completely dense.
“I can taste the approval, do good grades turn you on?” Jon taunted. “Must be so great, getting all the way to the top with only Daddy’s money.”
A dangerous scowl overtook his face and Jon quickly realized that was too far for today.
“For your information, Kent , not everyone has managed to stay in this school based on money and reputation alone, despite your clearly projected opinions. Now, should we get started, or do you have any more poorly based comments to share with the class?”
Jon glowered at both him and the papers, shaking his head once in a firm “No.”
“Good.” Damian’s smile was predatory in a way where he knew he had already won.
The other boy put up a stubborn fight when it came to learning, purposefully answering questions wrong and poking at Damian to watch him snap.There was a self-satisfied smirk when he did so, the older boy looking as if he wished to slap it off his face.
After the third or fourth time of this, Damian slammed the math book closed.
“Kent, I’d like to pride myself on endurance when it comes to annoyances, due to several older brothers and sisters. However, should this continue, I have no qualms about leaving you to repeat your next two years five times over.”
“Can’t handle the heat, get out of the oven.” Jon challenged.
Damian, to his annoyance, appeared unfazed. “I should be saying this to you, when a few years from now, you’ll still be here. Now, should I go, or will you at least look like you’re attempting to be competent?”
Pretty face, pretty form, ugly words.
Jon bit at his bottom lip, face turning into more of a petulant pout then a scowl. “Fine.”
What a child.
Damian made a dismissive ‘tt’ noise, and began the lesson again.
Two hours later, they emerged from the school, one with his pride flattened and brimming with emotions, and one with a folder and a smug smirk.
Jon spotted his elder brother Kon in the corner of the parking lot, perched on a motorcycle. He had a stupidly knowing grin on his face, causing Jon to scowl.
He swung a leg over the side and held onto his brother’s jacket.
“Next week, I expect you to be on time. Understood, Kent?” Damian tapped a pen to the large folder he held. He seemed completely undaunted by the fact that there was a motorcycle being driven by the school’s ex-local bad boy in front of him.
“Whatever.”
“Try again, Kent.”
Jon huffed. “Yes, I'll try to make it on time.”
“Good.” Damian flipped through the folder in front of him. “Your superiors will be pleased with these results. If you continue like this, we’ll be seeing a significant increase in your performance marks.”’
He nodded towards Kon as he closed the folder. “Have a pleasant evening, Connor. You as well, Jonathan.”
He walked away and the moment he was out of earshot, Kon pulled off his helmet and began to howl with laughter.
“Oh my God, you are whipped !”
“Shut the fuck up, Connor, I am not and I hate his guts! Self-righteous little brat .” Jon hissed.
“He has you wrapped around his finger! At this rate, he’ll have whipped you into shape by the end of the semester!” He wiped away tears of laughter, chuckling still.
“I will resist.” Jon scowled. “And you’re smudging your eyeliner.”
“Am not! Brat.” Kon then returned to his knowing smirk. “Bet five bucks you thought he was hot, tried to hit on him and he rejected you to high hell.”
Jon’s silence was proof enough, sending Kon into another fit of laughter.
“Those Wayne boys, Jonno. The way you were headed, I’m surprised fate’s taken this long to send one to you. First Wally, then Roy, then me, and now you.”
“I will continue where I'm headed, and no stupid, annoying, pot-stirring stuck up good boys with pretty eyes are going to change me. Now drive.”
He kicked his older brother’s leg, Kon pulling his helmet back on. “Whatever you say, superbrat. But when you come crying to me when you can’t get past their straight A’s no-time-for-feelings exterior, I’ll have a bigass ‘told you so’ waiting for ya.”
Jon glowered as the bike started up. “Well, you can save it, cause it won’t happen!”
“Can’t hear you!” Kon sing-songed over the roar of the bike.
“Asshole!”
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