Chapter Text
The day you met Karkat, you smiled down at him as you handed him a syllabus and he scowled at you, blushing slightly, and you thought it was cute.
You thought it was cute because he was a kid and you were an adult and adults are supposed to view children as cute because it’s demeaning and makes the adult feel better about themselves.
You thought he was cute in a childish way.
But also, he was just cute. Cute in a way that wasn’t ok for you to view your students as.
At his sheepish expression, you wondered how long it would be unil he turned 18 before mentally chiding yourself. You frowned at his cheek as he turned away from you and turned to the next student who grinned at you through crooked and uneven teeth, his tongue sticking out slightly as he smiled and you handed a syllabus to him.
You were reminded of a dog.
"Thankth, Mr. Th," he said and you strained a grin before he winked at you, Jesus, he winked at you from behind his blue and red tinted glasses, so you turned away immediately, wearing a blank expression as you handed out the syllabus to the rest of the students.
"Alright, kids," you said as you took your place at the front of the room. Center of attention, yes, this was the right spot for you. It was an added bonus that there was no one sitting in front of the cute kid, so you had a perfect view of him. "Welcome to Biology. Most of you are probably freshmen. Some of you are obviously upper classmen; I can tell from your jaded expressions, don’t deny it. And some of you, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you in one of my classes. In this class, exactly. And to you few, I say: welcome back. Good to see you again. Try doing your homework this year and see how far that gets you."
You went over the syllabus with the class, talked over assignments and tests, combatted arguments meant to dissuade you when you mentioned the number of group assignments. When you explained that groups would be divided by the seating arrangement, half the class groaned while the other half cheered; you noticed Karkat and the lispy guy beside him grin at each other and perform an intricate high five handshake combo manuever and you held back a snort.
Dorks.
During the introduction exercise when you forced each student to stand up in front of the class and recite a brief statement about themselves, some students went far more into detail than you cared to hear about, while others kept it short and to the point. When it was Karkat’s turn, he turned to you with apprehensive eyes.
You grinned and nodded at him, popping a pen in your mouth. “Go ahead.”
"Karkat Vantas. 17. Senior. My second time taking this class. A pesar de cuánto creo que esta clase es una pérdida de tiempo, ansío a mirar tu dulce culo en frente de la clase para el resto del año"
The pen between your teeth snapped and your shoulders tensed. A few kids in the class chuckled and you pulled the pen out of your mouth, leaning forward in your seat.
"What did you say?"
Karkat rolled back his shoulders only to put them in the same position they had been in before. Hunched over with his arms across his chest, chin tucked against his thorax, he opened his mouth again.
"A pesar de cuánto creo que esta clase es una pérdida de -- "
"Mr. Vantas, I’m gonna need you to repeat that in English."
His cheeks seemed to turn a shade darker, but you had to have been imagining it. “What do you have against Spanish?”
"I can’t understand it, that’s what I have against it."
"Because you don’t understand something, that means no one else is allowed to appreciate it?"
"No, because I’m the teacher, I get to decide what language you, the student, speak to me in during classtime. Or else."
"It’s not my fault you don’t speak Spanish," he said, finally pulling his head up and looking you in the eyes. He wore a look so indignant that you were almost proud until you realized that the indignation was towards yourself. "When you work in a school that’s 35% Spanish-speaking students and you can’t speak the language, it’s pretty much your own fault if you can’t understand every sentence that comes out of a student’s mouth."
"How about this, Mr. Vantas," you leaned back, popping a new pen in place between your tongue and cheek. "I cordially invite you to spend your very first day in detention. After school. My room. You may sit down now."
He huffed and glanced at you once through narrowed eyes before sitting down and turning his glare to his friend, who punched him once lightly in the shoulder and gave him a grin that you didn’t trust.
The students continued with the introductions, after which you handed out markers and paper for everyone to make a nametag with. The bell rang soon afterwards and you sighed with relief, shooing the teenagers out of your room from behind your desk. A few strays straggled behind, taking their time as they gathered their things. The strays included Karkat and his friend. They mumbled something to each other, Karkat shooting a glance to you and Sollux raising one eyebrow at the other. If they had been arguing, it seemed as if Sollux gave up since he shrugged and left the room.
The last few strays were not too far behind him, Karkat included with them, but when they passed your desk to leave the room, he paused, biting his lip and staring down at you.
You pulled your glasses down with your pinky finger and returned his gaze. "Can I help you with something, Mr. Vantas?"
"You can just call me Karkat," he said, smiling weakly at you, "not Mr. Vantas. It sounds weird when people call me that."
You cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning back and kicking your legs up to rest against your desk. "If I call you Karkat, are you still going to insist on speaking Spanish to me?"
"Am I speaking Spanish to you now?"
You raised both eyebrows in a challenge and he averted your gaze, looking down at his shoes. "Sorry," he mumbled, tugging on the straps of his backpack and the phrase adorable drifted through your mind, "I lost a bet with a friend, the guy sitting next to me, so I had to say that in front of the class. All I said was that I don't like biology, really."
"Sounded pretty wordy for 'I don't like biology.'"
He tugged at the straps of his bag again, rearranging them against his shoulders and you could swear that blush ran across his cheeks again. "I used a little more colorful language, but the gist of it was me expressing my dislike for biology."
"Ok, Karkat," you twisted the pen in your mouth, looking him up and down while his vision was still focused on his shoes. He wore a baggy grey sweater and black pants and you wondered why he would wear so much clothing, not because you wanted to see more of him, but because you were worrying about him overheating. It was still fairly warm outside, he must be uncomfortable with so much clothing on. Your grip tightened on your pen and you ignored the path that string of thoughts was leading you down. "Why don't you like biology?" You asked.
He shrugged and met your gaze again. "It doesn't agree with me."
"Biology agrees with everything, it is literally the study of living things. If you are living, then biology agrees with you. Hell, even if you're dead. If you at one point in time were alive or had the potential to be alive, then biology is your friend."
"Alright, fine, biology is my friend," he said, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't make it any easier to learn."
"Alright," you repeated, "I guess you have a point." You tapped your finger against your lips and looked him over once more. He watched you warily, clearing his throat and opening his mouth to speak.
"What do you have against Spanish?"
"I've got nothing against it," you answered.
Nothing except for the fact that it's one of my biggest turn-ons and the fact that you are way too cute to be speaking to me in Spanish in front of a group of students.
"My problem is when my students speak to me in a language I don't understand. It's kinda hard to run the class that way, ya get it?"
He nodded and glanced around the room once. "Yeah, I can see your point. I should probably go, you know, got other classes. I just wanted to apologize for before..."
"Apology accepted," you said. "Karkat, how about this: no detention for today. I feel like we ended up on the wrong foot. As an act of good will, I want to let you off the hook, just this once."
"Really?" He looked at you in disbelief, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. "Uh, okay, if that's -- "
"Not off the hook completely, though," you continued. "Instead, you'll come visit me for your lunch period."
He stiffened and you immediately knew you'd made the right decision.
"I don't know, Mr. Strider, I kind of had plans..."
"Detention after school or your lunch period with me, Vantas. It's your choice."
He let his gaze linger on you for a moment longer until he turned away, glancing in the direction of the skeleton you kept at the front of the classroom. "Fine, whatever, as long as I don't have to come in after school, I guess."
"Got big plans after school? Is there a sock hop you're dying to attend?"
He snorted and looked at you again and you couldn't help but notice the rusty color of his eyes.
"Yeah, that's it," he answered. "You guessed it, teach."
"I knew it." You grinned at him and waved your pen toward the door. "Now scamper off to your next class before you're late."
You watched him as he backed out of the room, giving you a short wave. "Thanks, Mr. Stri -- "
He took one wrong step and tripped into the skeleton, catching himself on a desk before he fell to the ground, letting out a curse and adorable slipped through your mind again.
"Fucking skeletons, I swear to god -- "
"Hey, he has a name," you said, biting back a laugh. "His name is Wilfred. Be kind to Wilfred."
He glanced back at you and grimaced, straightening himself up and dusting Wilfred off. "Wilfred, bajate a los chescos."
Your stomach churned and your body tensed. Before you could say anything, he waved one last time before walking out of the room.
He had to be cute. He had to be hot, and speak fluent Spanish. And he just had to keep dropping Spanish phrases into conversation.
You wondered if you could somehow get a recording of him speaking Spanish without his knowledge, maybe tape a recorder to the underside of his desk, snap a photo of him while he wasn't looking, or just print his school photo off of your computer; you had access to those files, so why not take advantage --
No. Wrong. This was wrong. You were going overboard. He was just an attractive student who happened to speak Spanish, the latter quality just happening to be one of your biggest turn-ons.
You yanked open your drawer and pulled your phone out, opening the Pesterchum app and typing away.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
TG: rose
TG: rose help
TG: one of my students is hot help what do i do
TG: i think i want
TG: i mean
TG: if he was of age and not my student, i definitely
TG: would frick the hell out of that
TG: rose
TG: what do i do
TT: Use protection.
TG: fuck you
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --