I was not expecting that response at all. Holy shit, twenty one reviews for the first chapter? I am dead. I am dead and you have all killed me.
And now here is your chapter two.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own TMI, I don't own the characters- the only thing I own is the plot.
Chapter Two.
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"Alec, let me in."
It wasn't one of Isabelle's almost-questions, but a plain demand.
His head was buried in one of his pillows, and behind his shut eyelids, the pressure forced images of swirling patterns with blurry details. It made him feel a little sick in the stomach. Isabelle, no doubt wanting to discuss some "private matters" with Alec, was on the other side of his bedroom door and kicking at the painted wood with her expensive shoes.
Of course, "Private matters" was really just code for juicy gossip that always had Isabelle squealing and swatting at Alec's arm in excitement. The gossip? Mr. Bane's magnificent arrival (or so Isabelle had declared it). Alec groaned into the pillow. He opened his eyes, his lashes scraping against the blue fabric of his pillowcase, and then he clambered off the bed.
Isabelle was yelling at him.
"ALEXANDER LIGHTWOOD IF YOU DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR IN FIVE SEC-"
Now he didn't want to open it.
Trust me, you do.
He gripped the door handle, and with a flick of his wrist, Isabelle was now leaning against the door frame with her dark hair twisted in a bun on top of her head. Instead of the jacket and the jeans ensemble she had worn for school, Isabelle had changed into a pair of silk pajama pants and a matching tank top. Alec gave her a questioning look. It wasn't normal for Isabelle to walk around in her pajamas before seven thirty.
Then again you've had a pretty abnormal day, idiot.
"Don't give me that look, Alec Lightwood. I want the details," His sister crossed her arms and her ankles over one another, her mouth tense. Alec scratched at the back of his neck, eyebrows drawn together in an irritated frown, "fine, come in."
With an innocent smile, Isabelle sauntered into his room and made herself comfortable on the spinning chair that faced his desk. She swiped one of the pillows from his bed, clutched it to her chest, and then eyed Alec. Her long eyebrows suggestively wiggled, "tell me everything."
Alec watched her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He climbed onto his bed, crossing his legs underneath his body.
"What else do you want to know?" he'd already given her a run-down of how he had embarrassed himself and given Mr. Bane a horrible first impression, recounting every detail with his face as red as a tomato. Isabelle had laughed. Alec had left her standing in the kitchen without another word.
"I mean the good stuff," she started, "not the Alec version, the Izzy version" she hinted, dropping a wink. Alec stared at his sister, not knowing whether to be absolutely mortified that Isabelle was talking about this with him, or whether to amp up the vulgarity in his descriptions and satisfy her gossip craving. A dark, embarrassed flush heated up on his neck and then spread towards his cheeks. He swallowed. Maybe there was... one thing he could tell her.
"He has a nice ass," he found himself whispering.
Great job.
If Isabelle was yelling before... now she was screaming.
Her dark eyes lit up. "I never even thought that you could notice something like that on a guy!" she shrieked, clapping her small hands together.
Alec smiled sheepishly.
If only she knew what he did notice.
A lot.
.
"Nice picture, Lightwood!"
There was a guffaw, and then the sound of a high five being given out.
Honestly.
His second day as a senior had started just the same as any other day, with the normal rousing-Jace-and-Isabelle-from-sleep, taking them to school and then making his way to his first class. French... with Mr. Bane. Alec thought he might die if he saw his teacher again.
The night had been painful to get through, due to the sleep that wouldn't come and douse the flame that was Alec's thoughts. He had laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, glaring up at the ceiling and picturing his French teacher's face smiling down at him. He pictured him winking. He pictured him doing other things. Then he stopped, another furious flush flaming at his cheeks.
Even by himself, embarrassed.
How are you going to handle the next lesson, Alec?
You don't like Mr. Bane at all. You hate him. You hate what he's done to you and you wish that you'd have gotten Mr. Verlac or Mr. Starkweather instead.
But no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise, Alec knew that he was certainly very happy to have Mr. Bane as his French teacher. The minimal sleep that came during the night had left him with faint rings that circled his eyes in the morning, and Alec couldn't care less about them.
The same couldn't be said for his display picture on the wall in the B block corridor, the one with the spaghetti stains. He could definitely care less about that one. Especially when Jonathan Morgernstern, tall and thin, much like Alec, snickered with his friends beside the lockers as they pointed their thick fingers at the colorful display. He dropped his eyes to the floor, his heart beating like a hammer. The last thing he wanted was attention.
The analogue clock above B14 read that there was approximately seven minutes until the bell went. The gentle ticking distracted Alec from the muffled giggles from other students as they studied the pictures. Great, he thought, another seven minutes of this and then...
Then its off to Mr. Bane's class...
Alec silently thanked it.
"You're not gonna say anything?" the question roused him from his thoughts. Jonathan was speaking again, and it looked like he wanted an answer. Alec glanced up to meet his eyes. They were as black as Alec's hair, bottomless pools of ink that appeared calm, but secretly held a brewing storm beneath the surface. Alec couldn't find the right words to say. Did he respond? Did he ignore him?
There's only five minutes left.
"Not gonna defend yourself, Lightwood?" Johnathan teased, edging closer from the other side of the hallway. Alec felt his throat dry and constrict, and suddenly became aware of the students that had gathered around to watch the display. One freshman had a camera out, anticipating that it would soon get physical. It really couldn't get any worse.
He wanted to hide when he felt a blush dot his cheeks. Johnathan raised a fair eyebrow, scratching at his chin. Alec noted the pale stubble. "Shame, thought you'd be more fun.. your sister certainly is," his dark eyes sparkled with mirth and one of them dropped in a wink that implied it all.
Alec wanted to punch him. A cold, dreadful ball began to knot in the pit of his stomach and he clenched his teeth together to prevent humiliating himself. He knew that giving Johnathan the satisfaction of a reaction would keep him coming back for more.
You can't say anything you'll regret. This guy obviously doesn't like you.
"Is there something going on here?"
There was a fleeting touch at Alec's left shoulder. Turning, he held in a faint gasp when he met the eyes of his French teacher. He had crossed his olive arms over his chest, one eyebrow shooting up to the heavens.
Of course, Bane shows up. How convenient.
Mr. Bane placed a hand on each of the boy's shoulders. His face wasn't in any way alarmed, it was as if he had greeted his friends- and not two teenagers about to brawl all over the corridor. The lip gloss was a little darker than yesterday, immediately drawing Alec's attention to his mouth. His bottom lip was fuller than the other, and Alec unashamedly stared as the tip of a pink tongue swept across the surface. The mascara had made a reappearance, and his black locks hung down by his chin instead gelled up into pointy spikes.
Peripherally, Alec could see that the students that had gathered to watch the confrontation had abandoned the scene and he immediately felt more at ease.
Surely Johnathan wouldn't try anything when Mr. Bane was there...
Before Alec could respond, the football player did it for him. "Nothings going on here," a perfectly fake grin spread across Johnathan's features, "sir." You could smell the sarcasm. Alec stared over his own shoulder at a dented locker, avoiding having to look one of them in the eyes.
Johnathan's gaze on him made him want to shiver. He knew that the guy was always on the lookout for trouble, and drew to it like a moth to a flame. He wanted something to happen here, and he obviously wasn't pleased that it didn't. His teacher's eyes made him want to shiver for another reason.
"Well," Mr. Bane started, "I'd certainly help not," and then, a smile to rival even Johnathan's. Alec was impressed.
The shrill of the bell echoed throughout the corridor.
Johnathan adjusted his bag strap, his eyes never leaving Alec's. "You might wanna go to class, Lightwood," the threat in his sentence was costumed in a light suggestion, much like the Wolf who fooled Little Red into believing he was her grandmother. Mr. Bane hadn't moved, but after a moment, he gently lifted his hand from Johnathan's shoulder. "See you in class, sir," Mr. Bane wiggled his fingers in goodbye.
Alec felt the teacher's hand slowly slide off his shoulder, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and place it back on his body. His fingers tickled Alec's forearms as they fell to his sides, and Alec swallowed. He could feel the ghost of his touch lingering still, but he refrained from doing anything that might have been deemed 'creepy' in Mr. Bane's eyes (though Alec had a suspicion that there weren't a lot of things that surprised him).
"Come on then, french awaits!"
and then, his teacher was whistling a tune and strolling towards A02.
Alec ran to follow him.
.
"... And that is how the french revolution came to be."
The first twenty minutes of class had been consumed by late-comers, a not-so-quick taking of attendance and a question from one of the hardcore french students up the back, one that had been snorting all over himself yesterday, that had been particularly detailed and required Mr. Bane to perch himself on top of his desk and launch into the subject for a whole ten minutes. Alec wasn't complaining though, it provided him with the perfect excuse to stare at him. To stare at his mouth, rather.
Alec was enraptured.
After Mr. Bane closed his lips, a faint smile on his face, the suck-up he'd been answering was wide eyed and mouthed as he processed the information. Alec had no information to process, as his ears hadn't been as open as his eyes.
"Your first unit, the history of France. It will run for eight weeks, and an assignment will be issued in three days time. I'll explain it in more depth when I feel like it."
Alec wasn't particularly interested, but if he knew Mr. Bane was keen on the unit he would happily play the role of "excited student ready to learn". In a deft move of his wrist, the lights in the classroom were no more. One bulb near the broken ceiling fans was flickering slightly, but Mr. Bane waved it off.
"I'm putting an old movie on, and I want you to just note down some differences between society nowadays and the way things were back then. Try and write in french, if you can."
Somewhere behind him, Alec heard the sound of a binder falling open and then a few annoying clicks at a pen. Well, someone was certainly excited. He had trouble deducing whether it was the snorting kid or Camille. It was a perfect way to receive attention, and he had no doubt that both of them wanted it, albeit for separate reasons.
A mist of silver light drifted down from the ceiling, projecting black and white images onto a sheet that Mr. Bane had pulled down from the blackboard. Alec kept his eyes on the film, but had his attention completely focused on the tall man that hovered around in the corner of the classroom. His teacher gently drew a chair out from underneath a spare desk, and swung it around backwards, draping himself over the backrest. His arms crossed over the wood, and then he dropped his chin to rest on his forearms.
Alec blushed, drawing his head away from the film just a fraction, to study his teacher.
Mr. Bane's gaze never wavered from the old castle displayed on the blackboard. Alec was safe, for the meantime.
You should be watching too.
He could watch it another time. He briefly wondered if Mr. Bane would consider giving him a copy of the film on disc when the man in question rose his arms behind his neck in a stretch. His mouth, Alec loved his mouth, fell open in a small yawn. The teenager watched as the man's chest expanded and then contracted, and for a moment he was almost certain that the buttons on his work shirt would pop off.
He didn't know how his teacher could stand to wear such tight clothes, but he liked it. His pants today were lacking of the silver stripes, but if Alec squinted in the darkness, he could see a faint shimmer of glitter around the detailing on his pockets. Mr. Bane could have been a model, with the clothes he wore.
Alec raked his eyes down the man's legs, paying extra attention to the way his muscles strained against the fabric of his slacks. He shifted one thigh closer, and Alec gingerly lifted his eyes.
Maybe not.
The boy's breath hitched and he spun his head towards the film. Eyeing his teacher's crotch wasn't the right way to go, especially when he was still in class and everybody could potentially hear how uneven his breathing was becoming. The only other sounds that reverberated through the classroom was the scratch of pens against paper and the static from the speakers as the film played. He was glad that nobody would see how red his face was undoubtedly becoming.
You need to forget about this. If it goes any further you might just end up failing the class. Not to mention-
Before Alec was aware, the film had come to a stop and Mr. Bane was off his seat and stalking to the front of the classroom. The bulbs switched on, and Alec blinked away the harsh lighting. It was then that he noticed the dot points and the sentences that marked his fellow classmates' work, and he felt his stomach drop at the thought of Mr. Bane discovering his blank sheet of paper.
He carefully slid it under his binder, propping an elbow up on top of it to try and look nonchalant. But he knew that his idea of nonchalant was quite the opposite, and he wouldn't be surprised if his teacher had snatched away the paper and scolded him. He was mentally preparing a speech in defense when Mr. Bane started talking.
"Now, I know that was incredibly interesting to all of you," you can taste the sarcasm and Alec wanted to hide under his desk, "But I would like maybe one or two of you to put your hand up and explain something that you noticed. It was a pretty easy task, so I imagine at least one of you is smart enough to figure it out," his tone was humorless, but his eyes said otherwise. Alec was getting used to Mr. Bane's way of talking and meddling with people. But despite his sarcastic tongue and dry wit, Alec didn't find him anything less than gorgeous and potentially heart-breaking.
This is dangerous. He doesn't look a day over twenty two, and you have just turned eighteen.
Despite the legality of the situation, Alec still recognized that a relationship between a student and a teacher was beyond inappropriate and Mr. Bane would be in a whole heap of trouble. He wanted to know him, he wanted to know what made the man before him tick and laugh so carelessly. But he knew it would never be.
Just stick to playing the role of 'depressed teenager who dwells in unrequited love for the rest of his life'
And as much as his make-up and fashionable choices of clothing say otherwise, he may not have those sorts of... feelings for guys. Let alone boyish teenagers who can't dress themselves properly and drool over older men in class.
Alec would rather wallow in self pity then consider this any longer. Mr. Bane fiddled with the silver name plaque on top of his desk, gesturing to someone behind him with a pleasant smile.
"-Yes? what have you written down Miss. Belcourt?"
Camille sat a few chairs behind him, the paper in her binder almost bursting with the amount of words she had scribbled onto it. She tugged at the end of her ponytail, batting her eyelashes as she glanced up at the teacher, "The roles in marriage have changed dramatically since," she answered, in an irritatingly sweet tone.
"Elaborate, Camille. How so?"
His teacher placed his hand on the corner of his desk, leaning his body into it. He crossed his ankles over one another, a knee bent to scrape along the inside of the desk and a hand placed on his hip. He raised an eyebrow.
Alec forgot about the blank piece of paper under his binder as he studied his teacher's face, and soon drifted in and out of his thoughts as Camille hurried to explain her answer. "-Ah yes, well it's true- back in the day, in every society really, not just the french one, when a woman and a man were united in marriage it was expected that the woman would bear the children and play the role of 'obedient little housewife' and the man would bring home the bacon, agreed?"
Alec smiled at his explanation. Trust Mr. Bane to explain things in a way that everybody could understand, and not just the smart ones. There were a few gorillas up the back that Alec knew weren't.. the brightest of the bunch, but Mr. Bane catered for everybody.
A simultaneous nod of the head from every student, and a half-hearted one from Alec. His teacher continued.
"Society now, well, in relationships- a man and a woman both 'wear the pants' so to speak, and it is the same in relationships of the same sex," Alec feared that his heart stopped beating when Mr. Bane's eyes lingered a little too long on him, "Disregarding the annoying fact that sexism still in fact, exists, you will find nowadays that women don't sit around sewing their husbands' sweaters and men aren't heroic warriors that fight in battles all the time.
"They are equals, and we've come a long way from how it was back in the stone age or however long you want to look back. In this case, two hundred and thirty five years.. Now-"
Alec could almost hear Camille swooning in the back. A dumb, love struck look on her face, her chin placed on the heel of her hand and her elbow propped up on her binder. It was the epitome of "schoolgirl puppy love". In fact, most of the girls in the classroom were doing similar things- their faces all admiring and adoring the teacher as he took a piece of chalk and started writing in a lovely script on the backboard.
Alec watched his fingers, feeling inside just as in awe as the rest of the girls. He wasn't out and proud like some of the other guys in his school, and he cursed himself that he wasn't brave enough to show it. Mr. Bane clapped his hands, taking a step away from the board and then plonking down in his desk chair.
Alec caught the first word and held back a groan.
HOMEWORK- A paragraph on an element of society in France that interests you, or not. Due next wednesday. En francais, s'il vous plaƮt
"I'm sure you all have your french dictionaries?" Mr. Bane spun in his seat, "if you need help and it is not wednesday morning, then feel free and come see me during a lunch break sometime, I'm usually around."
Alec felt his heart lurch in his chest.
"Feel free to come and see me... I'm usually around."
As the bell rung for the end of French, and the start of History with Mr. Graymark, Alec collected his things and rushed for the door. He hiked his bag further up onto his shoulder, digging around in his binder for the dictionary he had purchased from a news agency in summer. As the cream door swung shut behind the last of the students, and a quick glance around to make sure nobody was looking, Alec held the french book in his hands...
And then threw it in the trash can.
You don't need it.
You wouldn't pass up a chance with some alone time with your teacher, would you?
.
Alec what are you doing? You are a sneaky little attention whore. Anyways, please bear with me- there may be some mistakes in this, and I am in NO WAY WHATSOEVER AN EXPERT IN FRENCH HISTORY OR LANGUAGE OR ANYTHING TO DO WITH FRANCE. So don't bite my head off, I only did the comparison because it was the only thing I could think of, which is kinda sad imo.
Anyways, I hope this was okay and lived up to your expectations? let me know how you thought!
And review on your accounts if you want! I reply to every reviewer I can, as long as you aren't on anon or a guest!
nym.
