It was Bram's favorite part of the summer- the part where it was almost over. He knew that was ironic and that literally no one liked the end of summer. He'd heard that a hundred too many times, thank you very much. But Bram supposed that it had something to do with being a teacher. There were few things he liked as much as the start of school. He loved the days spent decorating his classroom, and he loved looking over class rosters to make guesses about the kids in his classes, to see if he recognized any names.

And his absolute favorite things about the start of school were the office supply stores' back-to-school discounts. That's where he was, looking at all the beautiful sticky notes and pens and—fifty-cent notebooks? Yes, please. He dropped ten notebooks into the cart, figuring that would be plenty to have one for each class.

Bram looked into his cart full of school supplies, internally battling himself on whether to leave with what he had or look into getting a better teacher chair. He was on the fence until he remembered that a chair would never fit into his small car. He pushed his cart to the checkout line and paid for the stuff, then loaded up the car and drove the four miles to the high school.

It was hot out, and humid, and by the time Bram made it to the school he had sweat on his brow, even though his car's AC had been running full blast. He noticed his colleague and former English teacher, Joshua Wise, struggling to get up the stairs, and headed over to give him a hand. It was times like these that Bram remembered how old Mr. Wise really was. He wished the school would just give in and install a wheelchair ramp.

"Mr. Wise!" called Bram as he jogged towards the older man.

Joshua turned around and smiled at Bram. "Abraham Greenfeld! Back again! The kids mustn't have driven you away, did they?" He laughed the laugh of an old man, all wheeze and cough, and Bram smiled back.

"No, they didn't. Let me help you up the stairs." He took the older man's hand and led him up the stairs. "It's nice to see you, Mr. Wise."

"Call me Joshua," he said. "We're coworkers now, after all. How many times do I have to tell you that, Bram?" Joshua laughed kindly. "It's nice to see you too, though."

They chatted as Bram walked Joshua to his classroom. After all these fifteen years, he still taught in the same room, in the same hall, the same subject, same grade. The room was decorated the same, too; the books on the shelf were new, as Joshua liked to keep up on YA literature for the sake of his bookish students, but all the desks were in the same place, the posters the same. Really, the only difference Bram could see was the addition of a series of posters in the front left corner near the board, proclaiming the classroom a safe space for LGBTQ+ students, immigrant students, disabled students, students of color, and any other students who needed a safe place. A nice touch. Bram made a mental note to pick up a poster set similar to those, or to bring in a rainbow flag from home and put it in a cup on a shelf somewhere.

As the men bid each other goodbye, Bram's eyes wandered out of the window. He saw a vaguely familiar man making his way inside carrying bags of school supplies and decorations, presumably for his classroom. Bram couldn't quite put his finger on why the short, brunet man looked familiar, but he knew the man was attractive.

Bram went to work decorating his classroom, dragging around bookshelves and desks, filling them with books. He hung up his literature posters and the few movie posters he had- one for The Incredibles he'd had since he was little, and one for its more recent sequel, The Incredibles 2. They were joined in what Bram affectionately called "Fandom Corner" by Funko figures of Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, Dash, Violet, and Jack-Jack, and the more popular YA books from the shelf. He plopped down a red beanbag chair and a record player for the aesthetic.

All the while as Bram set up his room, the mysterious man was on the back of his mind.

The first day of school came quickly. Bram showed up an hour early to make any last-minute adjustments to the room before the staff meeting at 7:15. Nothing really popped out at him, but he did remember the rainbow flag tucked away in his bag. He pulled it out and placed it in his pencil mug.

After rearranging the books on the shelf by color instead of author's last name, because he wanted the shelf to look inviting and pretty (and he needed something to do), he headed down to the staff meeting. It was a rather run-of-the-mill first meeting, one where the teachers clapped each other on the back and pried information about summers and class rosters out of one another. Somehow, nothing real got done, and though Bram noticed the man from decoration day alone in a corner, he couldn't bring himself to go talk to him. That'd have to wait until lunch.

First and second period were as average as first-day classes usually were. They played name games, Bram took note of some of the funnier names to exchange with his teacher buddies from Savannah (there was an Aelyx and an Ender. What was this, a dystopian novel?), and the class went over the syllabus, and before long, the bell rang.

Lunch crept up on Bram quickly, and after using the restroom, he grabbed his lunch and headed across the hall to Albright's old room (where he assumed the mysterious decoration day man would be) before he could chicken out. The door was open a crack.

"Hello?" Bram called into the room. There was no response for a while, but eventually, the door opened all the way, and there was Decoration Day Man, holding a sandwich in one hand.

He peered at Bram. "Can I... can I help you?"

Bram internally panicked, partly because he hadn't figured out what he was going to say beyond hello, and partly because the man was as attractive up close as he was from out the window and in the corner. His mouth opened and shut, but no words came out. His shy, awkward high school self was back.

"Come in," said Mysterious Man, beckoning Bram inside his classroom. Bram snapped his mouth shut and walked in behind Mysterious Man, whose classroom was actually really cool. It had a Paris theme. There was a mural of the Eiffel Tower on one of the walls, and lots of French movie posters, and there was a beret on the bookshelf. It felt warm, welcoming, and homey, despite being a classroom, which made Bram jealous. His own blue-themed classroom paled in comparison to this.

The man pulled out a chair from one of the desks, placing it in front of Bram. "Where do I know you from?" he asked, looking over at him.

"I was wondering the same thing," Bram replied, gaining a little bit of confidence. "Although, it might be easier to get the answer if we knew each other's names." He paused.

"Simon Spier," said the man, "but you can call me Simon. We're coworkers."

Oh. So that was where he'd seen him. They had been in the same English class junior year, and had sat at the same lunch table all through high school. Which, for Bram, had quickly led to a crush. It surprised him that he hadn't remembered Simon. He'd fallen hard for the guy in freshman year, and he guessed the crush had really only left once they'd parted, seemingly for good.

And all the memories came rushing back. Bram, eating his Oreos at lunch next to Garrett Laughlin and Nick Eisner and spending the break staring at Simon's beautiful hands. Bram, in English class, staring at the back of Simon's head and willing him to turn around, for just a minute. Bram, dragging Garrett to Cabaret! with him all five shows, because Simon was in the play and Simon in eyeliner was a blessing.

Bram fell into the chair, finally remembering that Simon was right there, in front of him. "Bram Greenfeld," he responded.

Simon's eyes widened. "Bram? Oh my god, really?"

Maybe Bram was reading too far into it, but Simon's reaction seemed a little over-the-top for old friends. They hadn't even been that close! Bram wondered if there was anything more there, then chided himself. Simon was probably married to some nice lady, maybe Leah Burke, and they probably had about seven kids and three dogs.

Simon was probably straight.

The men made small talk for a few minutes, and Bram learned that Simon was the new drama and yearbook teacher, replacing Ms. Albright who had married and retired. They joked about how they never would have seen her getting married, but then Simon let it slip that he'd been to their house, and that Ms. Albright's wife was very sweet. That made much more sense.

The bell rang all too soon, and as Bram picked up his lunch, Simon asked, "Come back tomorrow?"

Bram nodded, smiled, and headed back to his classroom to go over his syllabus with more of the sweaty fourteen-year-old kids. Again.

It was a week into school when Simon first came to Bram's room instead of the other way around. He sauntered into Bram's room brandishing his phone, and he looked sheepish and a little confused.

"What's wrong?" asked Bram.

Simon groaned. "Everything! These two sophomores in my yearbook class found my Instagram, which wouldn't be a big deal, except it's public, and it's where I'm the most vocal about my sexuality." He showed Bram his screen, where the names of two of the more notorious troublemakers popped up under the FOLLOWERS tab. Bram flicked his gaze up to the username at the top of the screen—it was spiersimon. He filed that away, making a mental note to follow Simon later.

Bram's eyebrows went up. "Ohh, yikes. It'll be okay, though—I'd know, the same thing happened to me my first year. So what you need to do is turn your account private, then remove anything you don't want seen from your icon and your bio. Then block the kids who found you. They'll get over it in a few weeks."

Simon tapped at his screen, then turned to Bram with an appreciative grin on his face. "You're a life saver, Greenfeld."

Bram shrugged. "You get to know a few things when you've been teaching a few years."

Simon pulled out a chair and locked his phone, setting it face down on the desk and opening his lunch. The men had taken to swapping strange stories from their days while eating. At the moment, Bram held the trophy in Strange Names (no, but seriously, who names their kid Ender?) and Simon held the trophy in Strange Events.

"Today Georgia Sanson ripped a page out of To Kill a Mockingbird because she didn't like seeing a certain word on the page. She refused to read it out loud, too. She said it made her feel dirty, and that it wasn't her word. Which, like, good for her for realizing it's not her word to use, but also, ripping out the whole page? How's the poor library going to fix it?" Bram explained, and the men laughed.

"Well, that's pretty good, but in Yearbook today, these two boys were supposed to be taking pictures of other classrooms, but James Cook went into the men's room saw them taking kissing selfies in the mirror! I don't know why they thought that would be a good idea," countered Simon, trying not to smile.

Bram laughed. "Okay, you win. Although, that reminded me of something I wanted to ask you. It's kind of personal, and honestly a bit invasive, sorry, but…"

"Have at it."

"You mentioned when you were telling me about the Instagram dilemma that you're vocal about your sexuality on your Instagram. Do you mind explaining what you mean? Please don't feel pressured to tell me if you don't want, but like, this is a totally safe space."

Simon chewed on his lip, and Bram feared he'd made some kind of mistake, but then Simon started to speak again. "Yeah, um. So let's start at the beginning, I figure that's important." He took a breath. "I'm gay."

Bram placed a hand on Simon's knee.

"And I go to Pride pretty much every year. I'm pretty open about it—I've dated guys, I've got a little Pride flag on my desk, and I'm not afraid to talk to kids about gay stuff if they ask. I don't know why it was so hard for me to tell you just now. It's normally a lot easier. But that's beside the point. Anyway, on my Instagram, I've got a few Pride posts, and a kissing selfie with my ex buried beneath all the posts with Leah and Abby and Nick. But like, kids are brutal. I'm just afraid they'll out me to the whole school. Shady Creek isn't exactly a progressive paradise, you know?"

"I totally can get where you're coming from, and I'm sorry you still have to worry about that. But I know those boys. I don't think those two would stoop that low, and even if they would, the whole school would be here for you. All the staff here have to respect their coworkers, and they can enforce that on the students too."

Simon smiled. "Thanks, Bram."

The bell rang not long after that, in the middle of a heated discussion about which way the toilet paper in the staff bathroom should be rolled. As Simon stood to leave, Bram pulled him into a hug and clapped him on the back. Butterflies exploded in his stomach.

Yup, that crush hadn't left, and now that Bram knew Simon was gay, it'd likely get much more intense.

The next day, before first period, Bram pulled out his phone and requested to follow user spiersimon on Instagram. The request was accepted and returned during the passing period between first and second, and Bram pressed accept, heart pounding, halfway through silent reading during second period.

It was a bit of a big step for Bram to let Simon follow him, because he, too, had a Pride post in his 16-post feed.

Simon liked all of his pictures toward the end of second period, and Bram couldn't help but notice that he'd liked the Pride post first.

Lunch came quickly. Simon walked into Bram's room and they sat down, swapping stories. Bram took home that day's Strange Events trophy, and then the men sat in silence for a while, Bram grading, Simon scrolling through his phone.

Simon broke the silence. "Do you think it would be weird for me to request to follow Garrett Laughlin?"

"Not at all," replied Bram. "He loves meeting up with old friends."

"Also, your account is very aesthetically pleasing," said Simon.

Bram smiled. "Thank you!"

Simon apparently took that as an opportunity to segue into talking about Bram's Pride post. "I especially like these rainbows. I hope you don't mind me asking the same question to you that you asked me?"

"Have at it."

"What does this Pride post mean?"

Bram sighed. He knew this was coming, but he'd hoped it'd wait. "I'm gay too, Simon." And the butterflies were back again. He'd imagined this moment so many times in high school. All the daydreams included a feather-soft, tentative kiss at the end. He was a little surprised the coming out had happened here, of all places, in Bram's freshman English classroom over paninis and sandwiches.

Simon seemed to take it well, though, which was nice. He hugged Bram (and Bram's stomach erupted into more butterflies than there were at the zoo), reminded him that this was a safe space, and the two exchanged some words about how glad they were for each other. They joked about seating patterns, and how Simon was seating two juniors together that he could "just tell" had crushes on the other. It was apparently Simon's favorite thing ever to be playing matchmaker, which Bram found endearing.

With every word, Bram could feel himself falling deeper, deeper, deeper for this man. Life had its ironies, and apparently it really wanted to tease Bram by reuniting him with his unattainable high school crush… who turned out not to be so unattainable after all.

So that was great.

The men had plans to meet at a coffee shop in Atlanta proper on a Thursday afternoon over October break. It was Thursday morning, only an hour or so before Bram had to leave, and he, like the true mess he was, was freaking out about what to wear and what to order and whether to be early or on time or fashionably late. He ruled out lateness pretty early into his Panic Fest™ and decided to arrive a few minutes early.

Dressed in a blue button-down and jeans, he left his house right on time and pulled into the coffee shop parking lot three minutes early. He walked into the shop, ordering a simple iced coffee with milk and an apple muffin, and plopped down at a table. He texted Simon a quick "I'm here :)", and before long, Simon walked in and waved at Bram. He placed his order and sat down across from Bram.

"Hey, Bram!"

Heart pounding (because it hadn't stopped doing that around Simon lately), Bram smiled and replied, "Hey."

"You'll never guess what Mr. Wise told me," Simon said, grinning.

"You're right, I probably won't. What'd he say?"

Simon sipped his coffee—large iced, no milk. "You remember Sam and Ally, right? The juniors I sat together?" Bram nodded, not sure where this was going. "Well, they're together, apparently!"

"Oh my god. You matchmaker!" Bram laughed.

Simon looked down bashfully. "Seems like I can get other people laid, but not myself, huh?"

Bram looked at Simon, confused. "What do you mean… you mean you haven't slept with anyone?"

Simon shook his head, cheeks redder than a tomato. "Nope," he said, popping the 'P'. "I can get boyfriends, but can't keep them. How about you?"

Bram felt a little awkward talking about this in a coffee shop, but no one seemed to notice, and Simon was fine, so he sucked it up. "Same boat. Still a virgin."

"Really!" Simon seemed to be genuinely surprised. "But you date, yeah?"

"Sometimes. My ex and I broke up in like June because he didn't like that I taught. He felt like I wasn't bringing in enough income. Which was fine, early term, but then he wanted me to move in with him, and I wouldn't pay half his rent because he lives in the rich part of town and it's literally twice what I was paying before."

"Yeesh, sounds like a dick," said Simon. "Got your eyes on anyone?"

Sirens went off in Bram's head, and quickly he ran through his options. He hoped it didn't take him too long to decide what to do, but he noticed that Simon also looked nervous, and that was all it took.

"He's really sweet, and I'm fortunate enough to eat lunch with him almost daily, and his eyes are the color of the moon and so beautiful, and honestly, I've had a crush on him since high school. So yeah. I've got feelings for one Simon Spier."

Simon's eyes sparkled as he responded. "Well, I've got feelings for one man with a blue-themed classroom, who coaches the soccer team and keeps a little Pride flag in his mug on his desk and asks me to coffee as a friend, and honestly, I've liked him and his soccer calves since high school."

Bram chuckled nervously, not sure what to do. "Soccer calves?"

"Oh, yeah, your calves were so chiseled. They could literally cut stone. Bram, is this a date? Cause I think that's a little bit more urgent than soccer calves, and I need to know, like, now."

"Do… do you want it to be a date?"

Simon bit his lip and nodded.

"Then yes, it's a date."

Simon visibly let out a breath. "Oh, good, because I wasn't sure what the school's policy on teachers dating each other was, but I guess must be fine. I was honestly going to ask you out before now, but like, I was a Disaster Gay™ and didn't ask anyone if that was okay with the school. So I pined."

Bram grinned. "You're rambling."

Simon's cheeks went red. "Sorry."

"No, I liked it."

"Babe, it's time to get up," Bram said, nudging Simon. They'd moved in together over spring break, and it was the first day back afterwards. Which was a little scary, because he wasn't sure the kids knew they were a thing, and they were going to be getting out of the same car, and walking up together, and that would be a little suspicious in the minds of high schoolers.

Simon rolled over, groaning, and Bram smiled tenderly, thinking of how goddamn lucky he was to have Simon, to be able to fall asleep next to him and wake up right there in the same place.

Bram nudged Simon one more time, but he was fast asleep again, so Bram scooted off the bed and picked up a pillow. He lifted it above his head, then brought it down on Simon—

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" Simon let out between giggles as he struggled to stop Bram from hitting him with the pillow. They smiled at each other, then Bram went to get dressed. Simon followed not long after, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bram pulled a shirt from the closet, stripping himself of his pajama shirt and throwing it into the hamper. He stood in only his boxers while he buttoned up the shirt.

Simon had stopped moving next to Bram, who looked at him funny while stepping out of his boxers. "What?" he asked. He pulled another pair from the drawer, and when he walked back to Simon's side from the dresser, Simon pulled him into a kiss.

Bram sunk into the kiss, mind buzzing like it did the very first time they'd kissed. That was just one thing he loved about being with Simon—everything they did felt brand-new.

They pulled apart, but Simon looked Bram right in the eye and said, "Babe, I just can't believe how beautiful you are."

Bram pulled Simon back toward him for another kiss. He faintly registered that they should probably get going, but he pushed that thought aside in favor of Simon's lips.

They pulled into the school parking lot just in time, and they walked up into the building with hands entwined and heads held high, because they didn't care about anything anyone else thought.

At that moment, all that mattered to Bram was Simon, and he loved knowing that all that mattered to Simon at that moment was him.

And boy, was he glad.