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You're Gross, Mike. Gross.

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“Mr. Costello?” Mike asked, hesitantly peeking through the open door into the teacher’s classroom.

“Come in,” Elvis called, smiling as Mike came to stand in front of his desk, looking flustered. “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if you- I mean, if you could, uh- I think I need tutoring.” Mike stuttered.

“In which class?”

“Uh, yours, I guess?” Mike said. He hadn’t though his plan through very far.

“Sure, you can come in any day after school.” Elvis knew perfectly well that his own class gave no grades and even if he did Mike would have had an A, but he wasn’t one to turn someone away, especially not Mike.

“O-okay,” Mike said, startled. He said yes! That’s almost a date! He totally wants me! Mike thought gleefully. “Mr. Costello-”

“Mike, I’ve told you; You can call me Elvis.”

“But you’re a teacher- at least kind of. It’d be weird.”

“Half of the teachers in this school use their first names, and I’m not even really a teacher.”

“But you kind of are,” Mike insisted, “You teach classes, that counts.”

“I’m not paid, it’s not really my job. I just like it.”

“What do you mean?” Mike asked. He’d always sort of wondered what exactly it was that Mr. Costello did at the school, but he had become a common fixture, wandering the halls and offering advice to angst-ridden students.

“When I graduated, Mr. Reed asked me to stay at the school. He never really gave me a job description- and I’ve never gotten a pay check- but I didn’t have much better to do so I stayed.”

Elvis remembered when Lou had offered him the position, giving only the vaguest details and the insistence that he’d just “hang out” and “do whatever.” Elvis hadn’t had much of a plan for after he graduated, and figured it was worth a try. He’d get free board and food at the school and he liked the students. He had especially been hesitant to leave a certain freshman whom he hadn’t spoken to in weeks. He’d always hated leaving things and just wondering what could have been.

“Oh,” Mike said.

“Plus, I-uh, thought some of the students were pretty cool. Didn’t want to leave them all here, um, you know...”

“Of course,” Mike agreed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, “The, uh, the students would have been heart broken, I’m sure.”

“Couldn’t let that happen,” Elvis told him solemnly, resting his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his hands.

“It’d be tragic,” Mike said, doubling over to cross his arms on the opposite side of the desk.

“Horrible.”

“Horrendous.”

“Preposterous.”

“Unthinkable.”

“Awful.” As they exchanged synonyms, the two were subconsciously moving closer until the tips of their noses were nearly touching.

“Mike! Johnny’s getting back today!” Andy was shouting from the hallway. “Mike!! Where are you?”

“Just a second, Andy!” Mike called back, scowling.

“So, tutoring?” Elvis asked, grinning.

“I’ll be back this afternoon?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Any time.” Mike glanced back at the door, biting his lip as he calculated how long he had before Andy would come barging in. Before he could think better of it, he turned back to Elvis, leaning in quickly to place a soft peck on his lips. He immediately stood, blushing furiously and staring at the ground as he fled the room.

Just as he stepped into the hallway he ran directly into Andy, who was heading in to get him.

“What took you so long?” Andy grumbled, staggering from the impact.

“Nothing.” Andy narrowed his eyes at Mike, taking in the dark red flush that spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. He would have questioned it, but that was how Mike always looked after he’d talked to Mr. Costello.

“Whatever,” Andy shrugged.

As Mike left the room full of his best friends, he nervously pushed his fingers through his hair, ruffling it and making it stick up more. He arrived at Elvis’ door just as the last straggling students left the hall. Mike raised his hand to knock.

Oh god do people knock on doors of offices? Should I just go in? Should I just run away and pretend this never happened? He shook himself mentally and opened the door.

“Elvis? I’m here for tutoring.” Elvis was sitting behind his desk looking flustered, just as he had that morning.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Elvis smiled, standing up. Mike crossed the room, leaving only the desk between them.

“I don’t really need tutoring,” he confessed.

“I know,” Elvis grinned.

“I only need you.”

There was a brief pause in which Mike’s words caught up with him, leaving him regretting his own existence.

“Oh my god. Shit. Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” Mike covered his heated face in his hands, hating everything.

“I can believe it,” Elvis smiled.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Shit, I fucked it up , Mike thought, groaning.

“Mike.” He looked up to see that Elvis had leaned across the desk and their noses were practically touching. Then he couldn’t see much of anything because his eyes were closed and they were kissing and Oh, this is nice .

Elvis wrapped his fingers in Mike’s hair and pulled him closer and that was also very nice. Then he did this thing with his tongue and Mike could no longer put his thoughts in order to describe just how nice it felt.

...

Outside in the hall, Andy Rourke was making his way to Mr. Costello’s room to ask for help on one of his homework assignments. He knew that Mike had been going in for tutoring but figured they wouldn’t mind another- if Mike was even still there. Mike had been gone for almost an hour.

Imagine Andy’s surprise to open Mr. Costello’s door to see his best friend and his favorite teacher passionately kissing across the room. Andy stood, stunned for a moment, torn between thoughts of “No, no, ew, no!” and “Wow, I didn’t know Mike had enough game to land Mr. Costello.” In the end, he just cringed and fled the room, trying not to think about it at all.

“You’re gross, Mike. Gross!” he muttered.