Remain impartial.
Teach, coach, grade, drink, repeat. Be a good enough teacher that the students learn what they need to, but put up a wall that stops them from thinking that you're their friend.
It had worked for Harasawa through fifteen years at the front of the classroom, so why did it feel like everything was suddenly beginning to fall apart?
Actually, he knew why. Without a doubt, he knew exactly why it felt like fifteen years of carefully-maintained distance were shattering in an instant. Nothing he'd ever experienced before could have prepared him for the figurative hurricane that was Imayoshi Shouichi, a truly destructive force hidden behind a pleasant smile and false politeness.
The boy's first two years at Touou hadn't been an issue for Harasawa, considering that the basketball team had been their only point of contact and even then, there were nine other first-string boys who needed their coach's attention. It had been easy enough for Harasawa to ignore the moments when it felt like Imayoshi's hidden gaze was lingering on him for just a touch too long.
Despite the fact that he didn't click to Imayoshi's intentions for quite some time, it wasn't as if Harasawa was unused to that kind of attention from students. He knew that he was a handsome man, particularly when compared to Touou's other teachers, and so it wasn't entirely unusual for him to have to blatantly ignore those students who mistakenly believed that they had even the slightest chance with him, or delicately handle the more upfront and persistent ones.
He had never, would never touch a student, not that any of them had ever been any sort of temptation. They were children, less than half of his age and lacking pretty much all of the qualities that Harasawa looked for in a partner. Even if he put all moral issues aside- and oh there were many- he wouldn't have wanted any of them anyway.
But then Imayoshi Shouichi happened, and Harasawa found himself wondering if he should just quit his job before an angry mob was out for his pervert blood. He shouldn't have made the boy captain, considering that by virtue of their respective positions their time spent together grew exponentially, but Imayoshi's apparent fascination with him hadn't been worth jeopardising the team's chances of success.
He'd picked the best person for the captain's position, and at first it had been fine. Imayoshi watched him constantly throughout his third year chemistry classes and basketball training sessions, but he never said or did anything that could be considered even vaguely inappropriate. Even when they were alone, sorting through club business together, Imayoshi did nothing more than stare a little too intently and smile that unsettling smile of his.
Harasawa got the feeling that he only knew of Imayoshi's behaviour because the boy wanted him to see it, which Harasawa assumed was Imayoshi's way of sniffing out his chances without actually having to stick his neck out. In any case, he wasn't complaining. It was easy for him to ignore stares, to pretend that he didn't notice them, and as Imayoshi's third year slowly ticked by Harasawa began to feel more and more secure that the boy had taken the hint.
There had been plenty of opportunities for him to say or do something more obvious, but Imayoshi never did and so Harasawa felt himself relax as much as someone could around a person as devious and scheming as Imayoshi Shouichi.
He should have guessed that it was a trap, but he'd let his guard down and walked straight into the spider's web, and now he found himself pinned in place as surely as he would have been if physical ropes had been involved.
It had started as a normal day, Harasawa going through the usual motions of teaching and coaching with his usual awareness of the hot gaze burning holes in him whenever Imayoshi was in the vicinity. Then he and his captain had moved to his office to go over team issues and new training plans, taking advantage of the fact that Imayoshi lived in the dorms literally two minutes walk away to let the meeting go a little later than it should have.
It had already been a long day, and Harasawa stifled a yawn as he and Imayoshi wrapped up their meeting. Despite the fact that Harasawa was gathering together the papers they'd been reading over, Imayoshi made no move to get up from his seat, his mostly-hidden eyes trained on the movement of Harasawa's hand up to his mouth as he forced back his yawning.
"Oh, I hadn't realised how late it's gotten," Imayoshi said pleasantly. Lie, Harasawa immediately thought, although it wasn't enough for him to yet realise that Imayoshi was up to something.
"I should let you go," the boy continued, still not making any move to leave. "I'm sure that your girlfriend will be wondering where you are."
"I'm single," Harasawa murmured absent-mindedly as he placed his folder back into his bag, too busy wondering if he could get away with sneaking some of the whisky in the flask sitting at the bottom of his drawer before leaving for home. It took him a moment before he even realised that he'd slipped up, shattering the illusion of being taken that he projected in an effort to discourage certain students from trying to pursue him.
Once he realised what he'd said, he glanced at Imayoshi to gauge his reaction only to find the boy sitting there looking entirely like he had already known that his teacher was utterly and extensively single. Knowing that any kind of backtracking was impossible, Harasawa went back to packing his bag, hoping that Imayoshi would take the hint and leave.
He didn't.
"Really? A man as handsome as yourself, with a former successful athletic career and a current steady teaching career, single? I hope that no one is spreading unsavoury rumours regarding circumstances that might cause you not to have a wife."
The way that Imayoshi stressed the final word made his intentions painfully clear to Harasawa, who was experiencing the sinking realisation that he really had walked blindly into Imayoshi's trap. If he lied, Imayoshi would know in an instant, but if he feigned ignorance or avoided answering the underlying question then Imayoshi would just keep finding new ways to try and trick the information out of him.
Wanting to just go back to his apartment where he could be peacefully alone, Harasawa decided to cut off Imayoshi's unspoken speculation before he could really get started. "I can tell what you're getting at, Imayoshi, and that kind of thing is utterly inappropriate to ask your teacher, or for a teacher to discuss with a student. If you have nothing else to say regarding the team or your chemistry homework, then you are excused."
"Why Sensei, I don't know what you could possibly mean, but I'll get out of your hair." Finally standing up, Imayoshi's smile widened as he leant forward over Harasawa's desk, making the older man go to pull back. His office was small, though, and his chair could only go back so far before he hit the wall and was trapped in place, Imayoshi's face looming too close to his own to be anywhere near the realm of appropriate teacher-student interactions.
He could feel warm breath on his skin but that was all, Imayoshi being careful not to touch him even with their faces as close together as they were. Harasawa was frozen in place, every single memory of the times he'd caught himself vaguely admiring the angular set of Imayoshi's face and his well-toned body flashing through his mind all at once.
"Goodnight, Harasawa-Sensei," Imayoshi murmured into Harasawa's ear, his usual empty polite tone falling away to be replaced by something hotter, rumbling from deep in his chest and sounding like the kind of thing that would have Harasawa on his knees if it was coming from an attractive adult.
He didn't have a retort and Imayoshi knew it, his eyes actually opening past halfway as he pulled back and grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder and disappearing from the room now that he'd done his damage. Harasawa's heart pounded as he finally found the ability to move, slumping forward on his desk and burying his face in his hands.
He couldn't help but feel like he'd unintentionally given Imayoshi the information that the boy had been angling for about his bisexuality, and at the same time he knew that Imayoshi had only just begun to reveal his hand. Things were about to get messy, and Harasawa knew that he'd be lucky to get out of it with his career and reputation intact.
Deciding that one more potentially job-ending action wasn't going to have much more of an effect than the things he'd already done wrong in one night, he reached for his drawer and the flask within it, flicking off the lid and drinking deeply straight from the metal container.
He was so, so fucked.