A/N - As always I apologize for any mistakes. As for the thing as a whole it'll be updated whenever inspiration strikes and, full disclosure, POV's may vary between 'chapters' due to the fluctuating frazzlement of my little head.
It's harmless. Or, well, it began harmlessly. It really just started with a few April fools jokes, you know, the usual I switched the sugar for salt and maybe switched your easy wipe whiteboard markers for permanent ones. Casual things. Except then it got out of hand - only a little, tiny bit. It was slightly inevitable though, you think, that eventually one of you would step it up just a little bit and then the other would until it reached new heights that you couldn't really descend from.
It wasn't that bad though really. The real issue is that the two of you are supposed to be respectable high school teachers and role models or whatever bullshit Principle Posen was shovelling out that week. But instead you were hosting some kind of whispered in the hallways prank war with the Literature teacher. In your defence though, Chloe had started it and there was an undeniable thrill in watching a plan you've conjured finally be executed to perfection.
There's also the fact that the knowing smiles she throws your way are your favourite thing in the entire world. You don't vocalise that though because you do have a reputation. A reputation you have built throughout the years of a teacher who does care about her students and wants them to succeed but isn't taking any shit or participating in school activities (honestly - teacher participation activity days can suck your ass). But you've been pulled into this and you won't back down, so instead you cautiously defend yourself at all hours of the day because Chloe isn't taking any prisoners and you can't afford to have your guard down.
It takes all of five days for the escalations to come to blows.
Monday begins with you doing something that could maybe be possibly considered illegal in some way. You're not entirely sure the legalities of what you've done but something within you tells you that the reaction will be worth possible jail time. I mean, so what if you maybe persuaded (coerced) the adorably dorky IT teacher to hack into Chloe's system so that you can have control over her computer. It's not that bad. Not really.
You kinda only meant to change her background - which is the first thing you do and you're fairly proud of the melon pun that now sits proudly on her opening screen because it's just so Chloe and it's harmless enough. But the knowledge that you can do so much more lingers in the forefront of your mind and you finally understand power trips because this is exciting.
You're downfall into the prank begins there.
In actuality, it's your schedules fault because had you been required to teach a lesson you wouldn't be so tempted to pick up your laptop and access Chloe's, so in essence, you wouldn't have waited until she projected her screen up onto the board and then taken control of her device.
Not your fault.
It may be a little bit your fault when you blast Rick Astley through her speakers but you bask in the surprised squeaks and subsequent chuckles it emits from the students. Not as much as you love the way the redhead calls your name indignantly from across the hall (you're not sure you love anything that much).
"It's a classic" You call.
"I'm not bringing you pizza tonight," she replies and you almost, almost, storm into her classroom.
"But its Monday, Chlo" You all but whine and you can practically feel her responding sigh.
"Fine but only because I can hear your pout"
"I would deny that but I'm not pushing my luck. Remember extra-"
"Olives - of course, despite that being weird as hell. Now leave me alone I actually have lessons to be teaching" You return to procrastinating then but not before smiling at the final "Great pun!" she shouts that signals her switching back into full on teacher mode and telling the kids to stop muttering and acting all suspicious because it's time for Shakespeare.
Tuesday puts you on edge because you know she'll try getting you back. You have to be vigilant. You have to be prepared. You have to… get girlish giggles thrown your way from the moment you step out of your car? What has she done?
It takes you all of two minutes to clock the flag pole or, more specifically, the flag that is flying full mast - a flag that has your sleeping face printed on it with the words '#BealesBitch'. You have a few questions in that moment, 1. When on earth did she take that picture? 2. How on earth did she manage to get it up there? 3. Why on earth would she pick that caption and that photo because it sure as hell looked suspicious, like 'Conrad's-eyebrow-wiggles-when-the two-of-you-interact-aren't-misplaced' suspicious.
You can't very well explain to the smirking kids asking you questions that you were asleep because you had fallen asleep after fixing her leaky faucet because it was late and you were tired as hell because even that sounded like some kind of euphemism. Essentially you were universally screwed and by the thirteenth chuckled comment you were ready to start slapping minors (or just putting them in detention or whatever). Thankfully you made it to your classroom without being handcuffed and taken away, only to find Chloe innocently sitting in your chair with a Cheshire grin.
"Good morning?" You drop your bag with a huff.
"The principle is going to see that"
"Oh Aubrey won't do anything to me - we've been best friends since college" Of course they had. And of course Chloe had kept that little detail quiet about the newly appointed woman. You really needed to delve further into her past and dig up some dirt.
"Firstly that's totally abusing your power in this tournament and secondly there's still the small matter of the little tiny people and the rumours you have sparked quite violently." This doesn't seem to have the effect that you were hoping for; in fact she seems to actually perk up a little at the suggestion. Huh.
"Really?"
"Chloe, I have literally been asked three times in about two minutes if I, and I quote, enjoy you being my cherry on top" She laughs and you want to roll your eyes but there is something sparkling in her own that makes your breath catch slightly. You can't decide whether you want to push her off your chair or take her on your desk in that moment but the ringing of the bell stops you from making, what you think is the inevitable decision.
"At least they're being creative?" She stands up and you shove her towards the open door.
"Shut up, Beale" She all but out of the door when you call for her to stop. "Oh and for the record, I would definitely be the cherry" You'll regret that later when a few of the early students start muttering about it to their friends in the hallways, but as of now her blushing cheeks and throaty laugh are enough to make you forget about the consequences.
Wednesday gives you plenty of time to execute your prank because Chloe isn't in until lunch and you've always been handy with a screwdriver – which means you have her door off of its hinges in less than five minutes and it's moved into your own classroom in another one. The best part of it all is that it's a solid forty minutes into her lesson that she realises she's missing something quite vital and storms across the gap to you. You say 'storms' but you know she practically skips across the divide grinning (she enjoys this just as much as you) before she puts on her best annoyed face and feigns anger with a half-hearted sigh.
"Miss Beale, what brings you here on this fine Wednesday afternoon?"
"You know, Miss Mitchell. You also know from that particular disaster with the Ikea furniture last week that I cannot use tools to save my life so come put my door back on" You smile at the reminder of the Chloe you found lost between sheets of paper and various planks of wood trying to decide how it was supposed to create a desk. You also vaguely clock some kids passing money between themselves towards the back of the classroom and a few others grinning widely and high-fiving their friends at their… victory?
"What's the magic word?"
"Cheetos" She pulls a bag from behind her back and throws them in your direction, only banking on your reflexes to allow you to catch them before they smack you in the face.
"Close enough. Class finish reading the chapter and I'll be back in five minutes or so" She squeezes your arm thankfully when you're done and closes her door with a smile, and whilst you stupidly smile back through the glass you catch a glance of more money being passed between the students of her class. What the hell was going on?
You know Thursday is her day. You know she is going to get you back and so you brace yourself. You expect every little thing to end up in a prank. When she greets you with a particularly forceful hug in the morning, and lingers for longer than she really should for just friends, you expect to find a 'kick me' sign on your back. When she brings you your favourite coffee from your favourite shop at lunch you expect it to be spiked (it's perfect). When she leaves a box on your desk you're so ready for it to be one of those exploding glitter things, except it's a glazed doughnut and its delicious and what was her plan here?
You can definitely say that's its unexpected when you're midway through lecturing the kids on the differences between classic and alternative rock and your phone rings with a completely different ringtone to the one you set.
"Really? You're rickrolling me?" You shout between your classrooms.
"It's a classic" She mocks back, much to the joy of your students who start laughing at your extravagant groan and eye roll. She was going to be the death of you.
"Are you dating?" Blunt. The words are so blunt that they leave no room for miscommunication and you want to know who said them but you cannot, for the life of you, discover the culprit and everyone in the room looks so excited to hear your answer that it could have been any one of them.
"No" You laugh, and then you laugh some more, and maybe a little bit more because the question has made you unusually nervous and you haven't lied but you still feel a little deceptive because it isn't from lack of wanting to, nor is it from lack of the two of you doing couple-y thing. You're just… not dating. Money changes hands again and it steals you back from your Chloe induced coma for you to wonder - what are they all doing?
It's on Friday when word reaches you that there's a betting pool between students as to when the two of you will finally go to "pound town". And yes, they were in fact calling it pound town, which, you're fairly sure is actually worse than Aubrey's frequent use of penetration and all of its derivatives in completely normal conversation.
Although there is a certain part of you that thinks it's actually kind of amusing, most of you is just confused and distracted and entirely unprepared to withstand or create your own prank. The lack of anything is probably what triggers Chloe's presence by your desk at the end of the day. You don't clock her at first as you lean scarily far back in your chair and will it not to tip because that's the last thing you need right now. But you become acutely aware of her position behind you when her fingers meet you shoulders and begin to massage the knots and kinks that are tormenting you.
"I think it should really be you massaging me. I've been so tense all day waiting for a prank that hasn't seem to have come" She's not really doing anything anymore other than gently resting her hands on your shoulders and making every inch of your body beg you to rest your head upon her magical hands. You do. It's everything you hope for and more.
"Sorry about that"
"Can I ask why?" You sigh because how do you phrase this? Probably just outright you suppose.
"I found some kids betting earlier" You unconsciously snuggle further into her and you feel her step forward to accommodate you. You feel uncommonly warm as you cocoon yourself in her arms but you've also never felt better than when her arms wrap around your torso with her chin fitting snugly upon your head. And what were you saying again? "And while usually I would look the other way, it seems they were betting on how long it would take us to get together or even if we've been lying this entire time"
"Ah so you finally found out about 'pound town' as I believe they call it?" You startle at that and jump from your chair to watch her carefully.
"You knew?"
"Everyone knows"
"For how long?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think it began about a month after I started here? It was probably that day it was raining and I had stupidly worn that white shirt – you know, the day that you stared at my chest for a good three minutes before taking off your jacket and offering it to me in front of your entire class" You cross your arms and step further into her space because no. If anyone were sending signals out it was her, right?
"Okay, I did not stare at all, let alone for three minutes. And if anything were to make them think we were dating it would be that time you stole my favourite shirt and wore it to school for the whole student body to see and totally recognize as being mine" It's her turn to step forward then and you definitely expect her to have a quip or example at the ready only she doesn't. Instead she runs her nails along your scalp and, whilst it's single-handedly the most delightful thing you've ever experienced, you have no idea what is happening.
"Chloe, what are you doing?"
"Testing a hypothesis"
"What hypothesis?" You're trembling and you know she can tell because she's smiling that smile she has that lets you know everything will be okay, but she just needs you not to startle or run away like a tiny, scared animal.
"That you're not so opposed to the whole bet and that maybe you didn't prank me today because you've been too busy thinking about what it would be like if we were dating" You laugh breathily and lean into her wandering hand without so much as a second thought.
"We're already practically dating. I mean, I do your handy work and you make me awesome chicken mayo sandwiches for lunch" She smiles.
"What have you been thinking about then?"
"This." That's when you kiss her. That's when you kiss her and everything is… woah. Just woah. And the whole concept of air is a little confusing to you for a moment, and you're all but addicted to her mouth in about two seconds, 'cause fuck does she know what she's doing. But then she's moaning into your mouth, and you're pushing her up onto your desk, and maybe you know just what you're doing too. It gets out of hand because apparently the two of you can't just do things casually – Exhibit A, the prank war. Exhibit B, your body pressed into the apex of her thighs.
You're apparently also bad at discretion; however that doesn't become apparent until you hear multiple high pitched squeals and some wolf whistles originating from your doorway.
"We knew it. Bechloe totally lives guys" You open your eyes to students - more specifically the band because of course you forgot that today was practice and they always meet in your classroom. Super.
"Hey… guys" You mumble with a meek wave as you help Chloe from your desk and straighten your own collar.
"How long has this been happening?!" Jessica screams from the front of the group and you half expect her to rip her shirt open to reveal a fandom shirt of the two of you with the amount of pep she's vibrating.
"About five minutes" Chloe replies and you want to elbow her except instead you stupidly turn and catch her smirk, which, paired with her unruly locks achieves nothing but making you want to find out what they look like spread across your pillow.
"This is so awesome! Can we maybe lie about all this till next Tuesday 'cause that's when I placed my bet?" This was going to be the longest band practice ever – and not just because Chloe decided to stay and torture (tease) you with her lecherous gazes. Damn it.