Author's Note: Un-beta'd, so please disregard any grammatical mistakes. This ship needs more love, even if just a quick oneshot.

It was tradition that each year at McKinley the seniors on the football team would be assigned a freshmen to 'adopt' and look after during the year. To show them the ropes, to keep them from passing out in their own beer-infused vomit during homecoming. That sort of thing. When Matt Rutherford was assigned his freshman… he couldn't help but be a bit disappointed.

Mike Chang had been pegged early on as a bit of a doofus braniac sort. School was three weeks in, and he had almost no friends, just the way he wanted. It wasn't that he was unfriendly, just quiet. Absorbed in his work, keeping to himself. When asked why he wanted to join the football team, Mike simply responded that he wouldn't get into Harvard unless he was well rounded.

Man, no offense dude, but football might not be the thing for you." Matt said stiffly, walking with Mike down the hallway. "Why don't you try chess club?"

"You think?" The response left Matt a little disarmed. The vague insult flew straight over Mike's head. The freshman looked up at him plainly, clearly taking the suggestion into sincere account. What really got to Matt, was how he didn't even realize he was throwing the insult until he had already said it. And why did he say that anyway? He had never stopped and thought about it before. After years of shoving dorks into lockers and their heads into toilets, it had just become so second-nature to him it was practically a reflex.

And Mike had done nothing wrong. He was perfectly nice. A bit of a looker too, once you got past the intangible aura of braininess.

"Matt? Are you okay?" Mike asked eagerly, seeing the cloudy expression that had crossed over his mentor's face. Matt assured him that he was fine. But was he? What had this high school done to him, anyway?

"Yeah man, I'm fine." Matt ruffled Mike's hair with an odd sort of sudden affection.

A scrawny kid on football, a bit of a dork, and zero social awareness. Mike Chang was about to be eaten alive by this school.

Not if Matt had anything to say about that.

Fortunately for Mike, he was fast. When right from his first step, nobody could catch him. He stood out as one of the best freshman on the team. Not for his ability to bash in the brains of their opposing team, but because once the ball was in his hands, nobody could touch him. He twisted and turned, but nobody could get a grip on him. Though they still sucked, Mike became too important to the football team to trample to the bottom of the totem pole.

As for what the rest of McKinley would think of him, Mike and Matt struck up an odd sort of compromise. Matt kept him under his wing (unlike other seniors who tended to drop their freshman after the first month or so) but only if Mike followed his mentor's popularity regimen. Specifically, sneaking out to a party or two and going to the gym for an hour or so, regardless of practice. Mike was a speedster, but he could afford to put on a bit of muscle. This was normally time that Mike devoted to studying, so they worked out a system.

"Alright, what's the missing component of this chemical equation?"

Matt read aloud out of a chemistry textbook aloud while bracing Mike's legs as he did sit-ups. It was all gibberish to him, but Mike rattled it off like he was listing the scores of last night's game. As he did the exercise, Mike's shirt fell back a bit, exposing his stomach. He had the makings of a nice six pack developing. If he kept this up, he'd be able to find a hot girlfriend easy. Matt wasn't checking him out or anything, just admiring how well things were coming along. That was all.

Then, someone had snickered across the gym. Matt glanced up to see Karofsky and that other sophomore doofus whose name he could never be bothered to remember. It was a weird name. Mike chanting the chemical sequences of complex sugars must have seemed terribly amusing to them. Matt glanced up at them, giving them a loot. Not a particularly cruel one either. Just a quirk of the eyebrow and a twist of the corner of his mouth- somewhere between a scowl and a smile.

And they backed off.

Because Matt had a weapon more effective than brute force of strength. The other jocks liked him. Matt was the one that threw the parties, that walked tall with the other three seniors on the team. Though guys like Finn Hudson had social pull having important positions like quarterback, in the hallways it was seniority that counted. But if the jocks liked Matt, then they'd like Mike too.

Even if he was a dork.

Because he was Matt's dork.

It would have been easy to take a more diplomatic approach to Karofsky. To do something like grab him by the jacket and slam him against the wall for laughing at Mike. But that would only make those little twerps resent Mike, and he wouldn't be around forever. What startled Matt, was that in that moment, he really wanted to do so, to act out in anger. To sock it to that smug bastard and warm him to never laugh at Mike Chang again.

You don't laugh at him, you don't look at him, you-

Matt shook his head, surprised at the sudden surge of rage he felt at the idea.

"Matt?" Mike had stopped his sit-ups. "You alright?" He leaned up so that the two were a bit closer. As usual, Mike was completely oblivious to the subtle, but significant social moment that had just occurred.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." Matt said, ruffling Mike's hair a bit. It was an action had become common enough that Mike hardly questioned it now. Besides, he quite liked it.

That warm blossom of happiness Matt felt when Mike smiled at him was a brotherly sort of affection, it had to be. It made sense too. Matt's only brothers were way older than him, something he had always considered to be atrociously unfair during his childhood. So why shouldn't Mike Chang be the little brother he never had?

Yes. That had to be it.

Soon enough, Mike's social skills improved. He openly talked with more people, though he still kept to himself more than Mike would like. Soon enough, the football team decided they had bigger nerds to pick on than Mike Chang, and he was fluidly accepted into their folds.

Things were going smoothly… at least until Kurt freaking Hummel and single ladies came along.

Normally so reserved and blasé about life, Mike came to life as soon as that stupid song came on. Instead of going to the gym, he insisted that he and Matt spend their time working on the dance instead in the privacy of a locked bedroom or empty dance classroom. And it was hard to argue with him. Mike wasn't exactly the type that got enthusiastic about things. But when he started dancing, he got this fire in his eyes, this sort of enthusiasm that completely blew Matt away. Matt had to admit, he was actually a little jealous. Mike was more into dancing than anything Matt had ever shown him. At least he got to come along for the ride.

He probably should have been expecting what was coming next.

"You're going to join Glee club with Puck." Matt leaned against the lockers with a pained sigh. It was after they had won the big game, and everyone had already gone off to celebrate. Though Mike had wanted to wait until after the festivities to tell his mentor, it had sort of… slipped out.

"I'm going to have to go through hell telling my parents." Mike mumbled, sitting on a bench nearby. "I shouldn't have to get grief from you too." He pouted, glaring at the floor. "That's not fair." He whispered.

'Nah man." Matt stepped forward, whipping his towel off of his shoulders. "I expected you'd want to. I knew that as soon as I saw the way you moved your hips." He glanced over at Mike knowingly. "I think it's the first time I ever saw you really smile all year." He sighed, smirking as Mike looked up at him with growing awe. Geez, was acceptance really such a rare thing that Mike's jaw had to drop?

"I can't say I'm looking forward to Shue's crappy song selections. But who knows? It might be fun."

"Wait, what?"

"Plus Santana is in it. Could be a good opportunity to get in good with her again."

"Wait, Matt!" Mike looked aghast. "You can't commit this kind of social suicide! It's your last year, you're a senior!"

"Yeah." Matt agreed harshly. "Four years of throwing slushies and dumping kids like Kurt Hummel into dumpsters." Matt glared Mike down. His entire demeanor had changed, he now stood tall and stern and determined. At the reminder of the cruel things that the football team did, Mike submitted. His face fell, his eyes wide. He knew what they did, but just barely. Mike was too concerned with school and keeping in shape for the team to have much time for it really.

That face. The one that told Matt that Mike was still so new to this school, to what it brought out in people. The hope that some people maybe could get out of here without becoming so completely jaded. What this guy made him feel… the horrific implications that he wasn't too different from those kids he spent years tormenting.

Matt sighed, grasping Mike's shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly.

"If I can give you at least one good year in Glee club, give you that drive to do what you want, what you're great at doing…" A small flicker of a smile. "Then maybe I can graduate saying I did something worthwhile in my time here."

And so they did. Glee club had its ups and downs, its quirks and its drama, just like any club. Matt got heat from his friends, but he brushed it aside (his parents loved the idea.) He didn't really care what anybody thought about him anymore. Especially not after his acceptance letter to school came. No, what was important now was keeping Mike Chang out of the limelight. Away from the line of fire with the slushies. Yes, he did one or two things he wasn't proud of, such as setting up a few dorks to get extra jock-treatment in order to keep them from noticing his freshman. But it was worth it because… Mike was happy. In the course of one year, that had become all that mattered.

In a few days Matt would be leaving to pre-season training at his new school, and tomorrow Mike would be packing up to go work at Asian camp for the summer. This would be the last time they would see one another for a long while, here at Matt's graduation party. After greeting all the guests and making sure everything breakable was hidden from the varsity jocks, he found Mike and pulled him away from the crowds for a while, taking him upstairs where it was a bit quieter.

"So… we survived glee club." Matt tossed Mike a beer in congratulations. The two leaned up against a pool table in his father's study. Here, the base thudding was the only indication that there was a party raging outside.

"You survived glee club." Mike laughed, cracking open another can. "I still have another three years."

"You're going to do great, you know." Matt said, nudging Mike's shoulder.

"You think so?" There it was again, that light-hearted, nymph smile. Matt's stomach fluttered, and he knew this would be his last chance.

"Yeah." He breathed, leaning in. A small, light kiss was placed on Mike's lower lip. He couldn't help it. Over the past few weeks, Matt had come to accept that he wanted this. Mike could call it payment for all he had done for this. But, just once, he wanted to feel Mike's lips on his. To confirm what he had been feeling. An intoxicating, sinful warmth bloomed inside of him. It was better than Santana and Brittany combined. Mike had frozen up. He never saw this sort of thing coming, and was left gaping at Matt like some sort of fish.

"You're hopeless, you know?" Matt laughed. He supposed that would be it for them. How do you forgive a guy for the sort of thing Matt just did? "You need to take care of yourself when I'm gone, okay?" He wanted to get this last bit of advice in before Mike either punched him or charged off in tearful fury. "You have to-" He was cut off as Mike moved forward, kissing Matt full and proper now. As soon as they connected, Mike resigned and let Matt take control, cupping his face, their tongues just barely sweeping against one another. It was still new to them, but still so very powerful, and left them breathless.

"I've… been wanting that."

"Yeah, me too. I think."

They looked up at one another, dazed and uncertain.

"But… we aren't going to be anything, are we?"

"I'm going away to school. I don't want you to keep yourself for me." Matt shook his head, glancing around to make sure nobody had seen. "I… I have some figuring out to do, I think. Are you okay?"

"I don't like boys." Mike said clearly. He didn't say it bitterly, or resentfully. He spoke with the same amount of passion one might when saying they didn't like carrots. "But… I liked kissing you."

"Yeah. I liked kissing you too."

One last time, Matt ruffled Mike's hair. Perhaps in a few years, when Mike as a famous dancer and Matt was a business tycoon, when they cared a bit less about what their parents thought, and society had some time to pull its' head out of its' ass. Then he'd come back for him.

His Mike.