LIRA AN: This is a project Miseria and I started back in August, and at the time it was just supposed to be a fun little RP. We both had a lot of ideas about a young AU for conworth, and found that we had a lot of the /same/ ideas. So we kicked this off. We've both written stories about a young AU by ourselves, but this is sort of the joint undertaking, and it's grown into such a large, ungainly thing. The basic premise was simply Luce in Conrad's high school, as a requirement for the pre-med major. The job experience project spans a week, so this thing kind of fell into a pattern of "stuff happening during class" for each of the five days, then "stuff happening after class, at Luce's apartment."

Considering that we're still at the end of day two, this thing will continue for quite a while more. It totally includes some of the same headcanon as my Psychology of a Hummingbird thing, and from Miseria's young conworth stories on ygal. SO UH YEAH. ENJOY. This chapter is the first high school class Luce Worth is present for.

As this was an RP, however tidied up, it still switches point of view back and forth from Luce to Conrad and back again. I wrote Luce; Miseria wrote Conrad. As per Psychology of a Hummingbird, Conrad is fifteen. If this bothers you, well, you've been warned.

MISERIA AN: This was my first time RPing and it was really fun, despite me being super nervous. I'm glad it came out alright and I hope people enjoy reading it .w.

DISCLAIMER: Hanna is Not a Boy's Name is still the property of the marvelous Tessa Stone; no infringement is meant and no profit is being made.

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DISABUSING NOTIONS

-by: Lira & Miseria-

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.001. - .The Poisoned Apple.

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Luce knew there was a reason why he did not like institutionalized learning. As a pre-med student, most people assumed that he wished to give back to the community and do things for people and cure diseases. No one ever assumed that maybe he just wanted to be able to cut open living humans and be considered a hero for it and not a candidate for America's Most Wanted. After going numerous semesters with these people, most of Luce's professors knew of his attitude and knew that the career immersion field experience requirements would go down as well as a box of tacks. And at least the box of tacks would leave convenient air holes in his esophagus. The immersion would merely leave a bad taste in the back of his mouth.

It was how Luce found himself in the back of a high school classroom, lounging somewhat sullenly against the wall nearest the grouping of desks he had been stationed at instead of sitting. Luce didn't really want to wedge himself into one of those unreasonably tiny chairs until absolutely necessary. He didn't know what board of education committee had passed this program, because putting socially deprived and likely romantically stunted medical students back into a high school setting sounded like a recipe for misfortune. Some of these guys hadn't gone so well in their rounds against the high school chick mafia the first time through. Luce flashed to one of his classmates in his advanced bio course, and imagined that the champ would have an asthma attack just setting foot in the hallways.

Luce wasn't thinking about the students being divvied up to the clusters of desks, wasn't really concerned with which batch of acne-scarred and underage kidlets the teacher deposited at his doorstep. He was about to scare a new batch of youngsters out of ever considering pursuing a career in the medical field again.

Conrad entered the classroom, a little more on edge then usual. He had been dreading this day. Guest speakers meant that he and his class would be divided into groups. Groups meant that Conrad would have to interact with his "peers", instead of just sitting quietly in the back of the room in his desk and pretending like he didn't exist. He liked normal school days where he could just take his notes, do his work, and go home. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to pretend that he was fine when his entire group simply gossiped or texted through the whole activity and it was okay that they copied his answers to everything later. The teenager huffed, sliding down into his seat. He turned, reaching behind himself to remove his backpack and noticed a tall, lanky blond man a few inches away.

Once the grab-bag of teens had all filtered into the room and further into their groups for the lesson, the teacher offered a few last-minute words about what sorts of questions might be best for their guests, and took a moment to remind the class that this would last all week and further, if they really hit it off. Luce lowered himself into the one free chair of the group, gaze flicking around the rough circle at the four teens now in his exclusive company.

"Pre-med student," Luce told them all, as if it wasn't scrawled across all of their papers. "'Ave at it. Lest yeh want me t'begin wiv a few stories from observation."

The leer then was maybe a bit over-eager, revealing Luce's feeling about sharing stories with his little group. The two girls across from him twittered to each other, but neither voiced a question. Then there was a jock-y looking twerp without very much hair, and a more mousy-looking teen with glasses who seemed the best bet for a med student wannabe. An exercise in futility, this was.

Conrad's eyes shot nervous glances around the rest of his group, waiting for someone to ask a question. When it became clear that the rest of the teenagers didn't give a damn about the assignment, Conrad timidly raised his own hand. "I-Is pre-med really as hard as everyone makes it out to be?" He asks meekly, his tongue nervously tripping over itself.

"Yeh doan' have t'raise yer hand," Luce pointed out, with what was either amusement or mild irritation. "It's only hard if yer one uh them pansies who likes t'sleep more'n three, four hours a night, or ter have a social life, or ter think abou' things other'n what the insides uv that last patient in lesson's intestines must've looked like when yeh act'lly go fer spaghetti fer dinner." Luce slouched back in his chair. "Other'n that, pre-med's a breeze. Organic chem professor's cute, too."

Conrads face flushed and he picked his worksheet off the table. He glanced at the paper, then back up to the blond, confusion evident on his face. "S-So..that's a 'no'..right?" Conrad glanced quickly at the hand-written sticker on the man's chest. "M-Mister Worth?"

Luce paused, wondering if the kid just didn't get sarcasm, or if the usual perils of signing up for pre-med really didn't sound so awful to him. The vaguely cute stammering immediately disqualified any of the kid's statements as return ploys. Luce hadn't really realized he'd get a kick out of anyone calling him "mister" Worth, like he was someone to be respected. "Not intimidated kid?" Luce asked, not as belligerently as he could have. He hadn't asked any of them their names and frankly didn't care.

"I-What? N-no..I just...assumed that you were joking or..." Conrad's face went a darker shade of red as he glanced back down at his paper. He reached up to nervously adjust his glasses, pushing them up his nose a little as he tried again, "I-I just need the answer...for the paper..." He muttered, casting sideways glances to the other kids around him.

It was more of a promised threat than a joke, but close enough. Blush-y schoolboys were another thing Luce hadn't anticipated as part of this immersion shit. Weren't kids supposed to be tougher than this these days? "Feel free t'put 'no' if yeh'd be happy attemptin' th' program an' doan' think it sounds so hard. How's yer teacher gunna tell yeh yer answer's wrong anywise? Because he disagrees?" Luce laughed, more than just a little bit menacingly.

The other kids in the group followed Luce's lead and chuckled as Conrad wrote a quick answer onto his paper. The little brunette shrugged, his eyes glued to the floor as his features settled into a pout. "I just wanted to make sure we got all the answers..." Conrad's voice trailed off as hot embarrassment formed a pit in his stomach.

Luce was a dick, yes, but the peanut gallery didn't do much for him. "Kid, yeh could prob'ly write that Luce Worth told yeh all th' pre-med students are strung out on ADHD medications an' that he advised yeh t'sleep wiv yer professors an' cheat on yer exams an' he wouldn' dock yeh a point." The reason behind this was that Luce suspected his professors had warned the poor teacher of Luce's track history. If he wasn't mistaken, the man was already watching him from behind the safety of his desk.

Conrad's head snapped back up, his large green eyes meeting the older man's. He opened his mouth like he was going to respond, but thought better of it and merely grimaced instead. He sighed, hunching his shoulders up as he continued to fill the paper out as quickly as possible. When he was finished, he slid it to the jocky boy next to him. He cast Luce another glance, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "D-Do you really...do all of that...everything you said?" Conrad asked meekly.

Luce waited, but even then the kid didn't take the bait. He did stare right back, not acknowledging in his head that, yeah, he was making a point of baiting this kid in particular now. "Did yeh act'lly write all that down fer th' questionnaire?" Luce asked, instead of answering the question. Well... He had slept with a professor, although not explicitly for grades, he wasn't above cheating, and ADHD medication wasn't really his drug of choice but close enough. So basically – yes? Would it shock the kid so much if he said it?

"Wha-No! I just...made up some questions and answers and...I mean, it's not like /you/ were really going to take this seriously, anyway." Conrad grimaced, noticing how neatly the med student had side-stepped his question. Conrad sat back in the desk, eying Luce nervously. "We...We still have an hour of class left...What should we do?"

That was the truth, and Luce snorted. "Did yeh 'ave any questions so pressin' yeh'd like me t'act'lly answer them?" he asked, with an air of magnanimity. "Would yeh like me t'play serious an' address all yer desp'rate concerns abou' th' route t'medical professionalism?" Luce rested one elbow against the back of his chair, making himself as comfortable as possible. "Otherwise, Aye could tell yeh abou' why yeh shouldn' always listen t' a professor's aide if she's 'ad two oxycotin in her coffee, or yeh could tell me if that's a sketchbook with yer things."

The glare working it's way onto Conrad's face melted away to shock and his hand instinctively lowered to the sketchpad poking up out of his unzipped bookbag. Another blush crossed his face and he stared wild-eyed back at Luce.

"Th-This isn't-.." Conrad wiped the deer-in-the-headlights look off his face long enough to tuck the sketchpad back inside and zip his backpack back up. He felt his ears grow hot as he glanced sideways at the other kids. They all seemed to be lost in their cell phones.

The hand dropping to adjust the bag was tell enough. Sketchbook or no, it was sure as hell something the kidlet did not want him to be lighting eyes upon. The blush-y panicked look was really overkill, and when Luce chuckled that time, it might have been at Conrad's expense, but it was more predatory than mocking. "Isn't sumfink yeh'd like ter be sharing?" he asked, aware that none of the others cared any more what he did. This little kidlet had already ensured their grades. He started to reach out one long arm, more as a menacing gesture than an earnest attempt to steal the kid's sketchpad from his bag. "What's yer name kid?" Luce asked, tone of voice going lower.

Conrad huddled lower in his desk, his eyes zeroing in on Luce's outstretched arm. Every fiber in his body screamed at him to ignore the question, but years of etiquette and polite behavior that had been hammered into his brain by his mother demanded that Luce was older, therefore Conrad couldn't just ignore him. For a split second, the teen inwardly struggled with himself, finally sighing and lowering his head. "C-Con-Conrad..." he whispered, still keeping a tight grip onto his bookbag.

"Conrad?" Luce echoed, privately laughing that it didn't have quite the same ring as "kidlet." He lowered his arm gently, as if he was giving up, except when he stopped his hand was covering Conrad's tense one holding onto the bag, and his long fingers were wrapping themselves loosely around Conrad's wrist. Not doing anything, not yet, the indication being that he could if he so chose. "Yeh afraid uv me, Connie?" Luce asked, still in that low, gravelly, almost private tone.

Conrad's eyes widened at the hand curled around his wrist. Luce's question thumped into his ears and the teenagers heart sped up. Yes. Yes he was terrified of him. He didn't exactly know why, but the voice in his ears and the pressure on his wrist made his stomach tie itself up in knots. Conrad's face slowly came back up to Luce's, his answer written all over it.

Luce grinned slowly, until his entire expression morphed into a calculated leer. He could read little Connie's face just fine, but if the kidlet wasn't going to answer him properly... "Yeh know wot's an important part uv bein' a doctor, Connie?" Luce asked, low and even. "Takin' pulses. An' I can feel yer pulse... Just... There. An' you know wot it's sayin'? It's sayin' someone needs a few slow breaths, an' maybe ask yerself wot yer so afraid of." Luce's hand shifted slightly, fingers stroking along the underside of Conrad's wrist before tightening.

Conrad's breathing hitched slightly at the sensation. Touching wasn't usually a part of his daily routine. He didn't touch other people and he didn't like being touched himself. Except...Luce's fingers running across his wrist had sent a shiver through the teenager, and the fantastic pressure around his wrist had caused a pool of excitement to form in the pit of his stomach. Conrad's eyes came back up to meet Luce's, his face flushed and his mouth hanging half open. The teenager's mind entertained the question Luce had proposed: What was he so afraid of?

Doctors were also supposed to notice things like that little hitch in Conrad's breath, and any flushes that might indicate fever – or embarrassment or even perhaps subjugated want – as well as glazed expressions such as the one Conrad was sporting that could mean other damages. Luce's smirky leer was still in place, and he leaned closer, peripherally aware of the other kids and the teacher at his desk but just not caring. It was a demonstration of his skills as a future doctor; that was all. "Nuthin' right?" he asked, the low tone somehow approaching, almost, something soothing. "Yeh doan' want t'share wiv me?" Except the way Luce said it, it sounded like he meant something far more obscene than Conrad's sketches.

Conrad's hazy eyes focused on Luce's face as it moved closer. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was in public, but the way Luce's smirk combined with the low, relaxing tone of the older mans voice seemed to make the teenager forget himself for a split second. Conrad's hand shakily pulled the zipper back on the bookbag, his eyes screwing shut as he mentally cursed himself inside his head. He wriggled out of Luce's grip, pulling the sketchpad out and throwing it toward the older man, trying not to get caught by his eyes again.

Luce made it easy for him, letting Conrad pull free when he saw that the kid was fetching the sketchpad Luce had initially requested. When it was tossed towards him he caught it easily, withdrawing his arm entirely so that he might use both hands to peruse the sketchpad. He did note that little Connie wasn't looking at him as he flipped the book open and began delicately leafing through the pages, calmly watching Conrad over the top of it at the same time. "There a reason yer afraid t'show anyone yer art?" he asked, pausing with a page between two fingers.

Conrads flushed face sunk down lower between his shoulders and he hesitated for a second before answering. "I-I tried...showing other people...they just laugh..." Conrad raised his eyes to Luce finally, half expecting to add the man to the ranks of "people who have laughed at him because of his shitty sketches".

Getting negative reactions was Luce's specialty, and it was clear as a bat to the back of his head that the quickest way to get one would be to laugh. But no, that wasn't what Luce wanted. "Fuck 'em," he said, forgetting that he was supposed to mind his tongue. But then, because he really couldn't resist, "So how come when yeh draw people yeh doan' draw any girls?" A pause. "Yeh think yeh could draw yours truly?" And then another smirk.

The brunette's eyes widened in surprise and he let the question settle in his mind. He looked over Luce's face, carefully. It wouldn't be...bad to draw it. The med student's jaw line was strong and his features were sharp and pronounced. If Conrad had to peg him as something he would go as far as to say that Luce was /handsome/. Conrad felt his face flush as he weighed out his answer. Yes, he could draw Luce. He could even have /fun/ drawing the man. However, the smirk plastered onto the man's face made Conrad a little hesitant to mutter out his answer, in case the man was just joking some more. "Y-Yeah...I could draw you..."

Luce stopped flipping pages when he reached the blank section of the sketchpad, and by that point he had received Conrad's answer. "Yeh could," he confirmed, like hedging a bet he was certain he'd win. "But are yeh gunna act'lly do it, Connie?" Luce turned the sketchpad back around, still open to that blank page, and offered it back to its owner with a bit of a knowing look. Luce was tempted to term it a commission, just to see what that would do to Conrad's abysmal-seeming self esteem. But no, no. That would be helping.

Conrad's eyes fell onto the blank page, the stinging, white blankness practically begging him to pick up his pencil and fill it. He shot Luce a timid glance, trying to ask with his eyes if the older man was actually serious. After a few moments, Conrad reached a shaking hand forward and grabbed his pencil, picking the sketchpad up and holding it up, propping the bottom of it on his stomach. He stared back at Luce from behind the top of his glasses, offering the man one last chance to back out.

Luce waited patiently, repositioning slightly for Conrad's convenience. He wasn't joking, and he was just the slightest bit curious to watch the kid do some sketching. He knew he was pushing this somewhere, all of it, but not what it might finally shore up against. He wanted to see if he could shove Conrad all the way to whatever little cubby Luce might wish to fit him in. "Watcha waitin' fer?" Luce pushed, really not the patient posing sort.

Conrad's hand shook slightly as he started on Luce's "portrait", his eyes casting quick glances at the med student's face. He furrowed his brow, hunching his shoulders higher as he drug the pencil across the blank page. His eyes darted between Luce and the pad, and he grumbled, erasing and wiping the shavings casually off the side. "I can't...get the eyes right. C-Could you... lean a little closer?" Conrad asked, his eyes darting back to the floor.

When Conrad began Luce attempted to sit still and be a good model, wondering privately why anyone would ever do this for fun even when getting paid. And then Conrad made a request he was all too happy to fulfill, smoothly leaning across the divide of their desks, keeping his arms where they were but unable to keep the slight leering grin on his face from widening. It was something like anticipation, even though of course he wasn't going to shove Conrad too far in a high school classroom. "Better?" he asked simply.

Conrad's face flushed and he barely nodded, his eyes locking with Luce's. He stared back at the hazel eyes, his mouth falling open slightly. "I-uhm...Th-Thank you..." Conrad muttered, ducking his head back down and continuing to sketch. He sketched a few more lines, grumbling and erasing a little, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "S-sorry if it's...taking a while..."

Luce was likely to crack his face in half at this rate, grinning at the truly quite amusing expression Conrad was offering. Even better was having the kid ask him to come closer, and then /thank/ him for it. As Conrad's glasses slid down his face, Luce reached up one arm while otherwise remaining about steady, giving them a gentle poke upwards. He was already smirking plainly, so he offered an easy "Not a problem" meant as both answer to Conrad's apology and his bit of "help."

Conrad's face tensed as Luce's finger pushed his glasses up, and his eyes widened. He slowly brought them upward, staring at the blond man from behind his glasses for a split second before dropping his eyes back down and continuing to sketch. He was on Luce's mouth now, and he let his eyes wonder back to Luce. He tried to copy the way Luce's smirk sat on his lips, leering and almost kind of exciting. After a few grumbles and some erasing, Conrad blushed as he held the finished picture out to be inspected.

Luce could see Conrad's little almost-flinch, and yet the kid went back to drawing, and he just couldn't stop smirking. He was beginning to understand why someone might want to model, but it would have to be for cute little flinch-prone boys doing quick sketches. Anything more involved would have to be compensated much better. Finally Conrad finished, and Luce relaxed, his hand coming up to accept his little portrait. For a few long moments he surveyed the product, before his gaze returned upwards to Conrad's face. "Are yeh givin' me this t'keep?" he asked, tone perfectly even.

Conrad pulled the sketchpad back, flipping it closed and tucking it away again in one fluid motion. "N-No...It's crap...If I actually did a picture for you to keep I'd make it a b-better one..." He stammered, finally staring back at Luce.

Luce slowly wiped the smirk from his face, watching Conrad stow away the picture of him. He leaned back in his chair again and leveled the kid with an even stare. "Aye jus' think yeh want t'keep th' picture uv me," he told Conrad flatly. "That're yer askin' t'do another."

Conrad's face flushed and he glared back at Luce. "Th-That's not even true! I just d-don't want to give you a crappy sketch when I can do a lot better..." He muttered back. At Luce's final remark, the small brunette's face tensed. If he were being honest with himself, Luce's facial structure was pretty great to draw. There were so many things in the sketch he didn't get a chance to work out like he wanted (he would fix those later, by memory; probably when he got home) and the chance to actually sit down and sketch a model was really tempting. Conrad didn't really know /where/ he could ask Luce to model for him. Maybe his house? But, the idea of bringing home some stranger, especially a much older stranger, didn't appeal to Conrad and he knew his mother wouldn't like it.

"I c-can't do another...I don't have anywhere to do it..." Conrad muttered out. He left off the part about his mother, figuring the blond would probably laugh at him.

In Luce's opinion, Conrad's quick answer only walked him harder into the second half of what Luce was saying. He waited a moment, smiling again because it was at least better than licking his lips. Things were far too fucking easy if Connie was going to practically propose things for him. Fuck, Luce wouldn't even have to talk. Or alternately Connie could not talk... "See Connie," Luce said, smiling like he had just the /best/ joke to share with the kid. "College folks gotta live somewhere. Got an apartment. Real nice place, lemme tell yeh. Yeh should come visit sometime, bring yer sketchpad." Luce arched his brows, the implication plain.

Conrad's eyes widened and he felt his stomach clench, half-excitement half-nerves. He'd just been invited to someones house-er-apartment. Whatever, it was an invitation. It was the first time someone had invited him anywhere, not counting Zach Grimmel's eighth birthday party, because his mom wouldn't even let him stay for the sleep-over. His brain vaguely registered that he'd just met Luce, and that he should probably be a little more hesitant about going to some older guy's apartment, but he could still feel little pricks of excitement stabbing at him as he stared back at the blond. "Y-You really-I mean...It's ok?" He choked out, trying to sound relaxed.

Luce didn't know what Conrad's damage was, but last time he checked high school kids weren't supposed to be jumping on his offers to take them home with him that easily. He was fairly certain his professor thought he'd be charming the young ladies, like the two girls giggling with their phones out just beyond where Conrad was sitting. Luce should maybe warn his professor that the teacher hosting the class was telling the kids that if they "really hit it off" with the guest speakers things could go on "even longer" and hint that some of the boys got a little too eager at the implications. Just so long as he didn't implicate himself; he was pretty sure that professor only knew about his liaison with that female chemistry professor, anyway.

"Why not?" Luce asked with that wide smile. "Yeh want to?"

Somewhere behind him, the bell rang to end the class. The kids gathered around Conrad stood up, gathering their bags and heading for the door; not really listening to the teacher call out the homework for the night. Conrad stayed seated. His eyes were still locked onto Luce and he was still mentally flip-flopping between blowing off his after-school tutoring and following the older man home or not. His mind briefly reminded him that his mother wouldn't like anything about this, and that if he wanted to live until tomorrow he would tell Luce no, pick up his backpack, and march directly to his tutor's. "I-I...yeah. Y-Yeah I do..." Conrad let a faint smile settle on his features as he nodded at Luce. His mother was going to be furious.

Luce waited as well, although that was in part because he was supposed to check out with his host teacher and sign out at the front office or some shit. And Conrad even looked a bit more confident when he agreed, which didn't necessarily make sense to Luce. Did he reserve his stuttering for school hours and was preparing to speak like a normal human being if he spent further time in Luce's company? "Alright kiddo," Luce said, sliding up out of his seat. "I gotta make a pit stop wiv th' front office."

Conrad nodded, feeling a little proud that he had actually said yes. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten, and the confident smile on his face faded a little. His mother really was going to be upset. What if she called his tutor? She never called before...but today could be that one day that she decided to. The little brunette fought the panic down, assuring himself that his mother had no reason to call and check up on him. He got up with Luce, his body feeling a little more tense as he followed behind him, trying not to accidentally brush against the taller man.

"I need to go call... uhm... someone. So... I'll just meet you... by the gate?" Conrad muttered, avoiding Luce's eyes. He thought about telling Luce he had to call and blow his tutor off, but decided against it, thinking that it sounded kind of childish. He straightened up, walking out of the classroom at a pace, he hoped, didn't show how nervous he actually felt.

Luce wanted to sling an arm across Conrad's shoulders simply to see what the kid would do, but they were still in the school and that probably wouldn't be the wisest of moves. After all, he had already executed more than any stuffy professor at the university could ever dread for him, why push it just yet? He could do whatever the fuck he wanted if he waited just a bit longer. "Sure Connie," Luce agreed, with the thought that this way the teacher might not notice him leaving the room with Conrad specifically, and none of the chatty secretaries in the office would comment. "Ah'll be righ' there."