Reviews are KILLING ME IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY. This is so surreal, thanks everyone!

To all the people on Guest: I laughed so hard at some of the things you said! And I am beyond happy with the response, so keep reviewing!

Also: the sexual tension gets a little... well, sexy...after school. So you'll have to wait and see ;) !

(sorry it's taken so long to update, I just started school again and it's been pretty hectic)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own TMI, I don't own the characters- the only thing I own is the plot.

Chapter Four.


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Magnus watched the boy, the one his curiosity had latched itself on, fly out of the room with his book bag in tow and sporting a ridiculous smile. It didn't go unnoticed. As the cream-colored door swung shut behind his student, he finally allowed the tension to leave his body.

A breath he didn't know he'd been holding in escaped his mouth as he slumped against his desk with a sudden sense of tiredness. The whole morning, studying the blue eyed boy in the corner of his eye, had been merciless. Every open-mouthed stare, every slow blink underneath heavy lashes, had him more and more interested. As soon as he had walked in, late, Magnus reminded himself, to that Monday class he had quickly deduced that the boy was positively mouth-watering.

Granted, he needed a new pair of sneakers, and Magnus didn't even want to think about the sweaters, but it didn't make him any less adorable. And the fact that the boy seemed just as interested in him... well, it was certainly a perk. On more than one occasion he had become almost distracted by the way the boy lent forward in his chair, his fingers gripping that tiny little pencil like a lifeline, his lips parted and breath catching on them deliciously.

No one else had noticed but him.

And that girl, the Camille girl, had sent daggers at the boy when Magnus asked him about his dictionary. He wasn't stupid, he hadn't dismissed her fleeting glances as well. He also hadn't noticed the way Alec had unceremoniously dumped the book in the trash can, looking both ways before heading off to his next class. He hadn't bothered to glance back at the classroom, where Magnus had lent against the door frame and studied the boy through a tiny crack the door had yet to close.

His suspicions were confirmed then. If it wasn't the way he stared, or the way he asked questions during class, or the way he had 'dropped' his pencil on more than one occasion (and then bending over in his chair to pick it up, shooting Magnus a secret confident smile)... It was this. The teacher mentally applauded him on his effort to grab attention, as it was actually working, unlike the blond behind him who shoved her breasts forward and then sultrily winked at him when she thought the class couldn't see.

He would always wink at Alec, hoping that the direction would fool Camille into thinking it was for her. Her friends would giggle behind their hands, and Alec would thrust his head back down, cheeks blushing and eyes wide. It was almost too easy to get away with.

The students for his next class, freshmen, were standing around outside his classroom, waiting until Magnus would open the door and then usher them in to lecture them on French architecture. He knew he had to eventually, but for now- he just wanted to lean against his desk and think about the encounter that left him breathless. Alec had shown up early, no surprise there.

It was amusing in a way, when Alec would speak to him- unsure of his words but wanting nothing more to appeal to the older man. Magnus got the impression that the boy was in the closet, stuck at the back with the doors locked from the inside. He was his first crush, and it was oh so satisfying.

During the homework-doing, he had made sure to tease Alec whenever possible, letting his lips graze his ear briefly when he whispered advice to him, or stroking his elbow when he went to correct him on his spelling. To see the reactions, to see the way Alec would stare at him, unblinking, unmoving as he took in Magnus, was delicious. As much as he wanted to give Alec the pleasure of holding his body against him and kissing him hard, he knew that the situation and the age difference between them would be appalling and set Magnus up for some heavy fines or possible jail time for inappropriate conduct with a minor.

But it wasn't inappropriate, Magnus had took it upon himself to visit the file-room (after convincing the older office ladies with some heavy flirting) and looking at Alec's student profile. The boy was eighteen, barely legal for Magnus, who was twenty three, but still legal. He could rest at night now knowing that he wasn't lusting after some child.

BANG

He rolled his eyes, listening to the freshman outside who knocked on his door with a little too much force. As he went to answer it, he passed the desk that sat directly opposite his own- the one Alec usually occupied. He smiled to himself, latching his hand on the door handle.

He was looking forward to Monday morning.


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"And what happened then?"

"Iz, I've already told you-!"

"Tell me again."

Alec, for what seemed like the billionth time, recounted his lunch with Mr. Bane and didn't spare the detail. After learning that Isabelle liked it dirty, he flushed (why? He wasn't sure at all, he knew that Isabelle wasn't a prude in the slightest) and then explained the touches and the whispers that drove him wild in his chair. His sister was strewn across the bed, arms flailing in the air as he finished up his retelling. He knew it was somewhat inappropriate, and frankly weird to be talking about it with his sister... But who else was going to listen to him rave about his French teacher?

She had snuck in during the night after Alec had promptly read Max his bedtime story of Spiderman. He almost screamed when he turned the door knob and was greeted by a smirking Isabelle standing directly on the other side of the door. Hours had passed, and now? Alec's phone told him in green numbers that it was close to one o'clock in the morning. He didn't want to kick his sister out, after all they hadn't had much time to talk to each other since school had commenced, but if he didn't get enough sleep- if he didn't stick to schedule- he'd have an off day tomorrow and who knows what would happen?

"...And then I said bye and left," he finished. His mouth still felt fresh from toothpaste, and his hair was damp from the shower he had taken a while ago. Isabelle hadn't even changed out of her clothes yet. She looked like she was ready to impress, and even though the night taking over, still re-applied her mascara. She sighed happily, hugging herself around the waist and staring up at the crack that donned Alec's ceiling.

"That's so romantic. Soon you'll be fucking- Just you wait Alexan-!"

Alec cut her off, his face green, "I don't think any of... that will be taking place Iz."

As much as you'd like it to

"I think you need a makeover or something, he's so... well, hot," Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. If there was anything he didn't want Isabelle talking about it was makeovers. "Isabelle," he started, "I am not putting myself through that," he threw himself on the bed, face down as he heard Isabelle's giggles.

"I'm not suggesting doing anything extreme, why don't you just pick some nicer clothes tomorrow and give him something to actually look at. Not" she added, "that you aren't enough to look at by yourself, my beautiful brother," Alec rolled his eyes, hmph-ing into the bedspread. "That's all I'm saying" He felt her weight leave the bed. Turning, he glanced up at her as she stood with her hands above her head in surrender, "I swear not to potentially sabotage your relationship with your teacher by taking you shopping and improving your wardrobe," she added saucily. Alec could taste the sarcasm, and he wanted her out of his room.

"Okay, thankyou Isabelle- it is duly noted," and then he was heaving her out the door and listening to her cries about 'safe sex' and advice on 'hitting that sweet spot'. Blushing madly, Alec shut the door.


.

Well, he had taken Isabelle's advice. Not on 'hitting the sweet spot' (cue blush) but on dressing better. Sitting in the front row had it's perks, one being that the teacher and student were as close to each other as Alec wished to be. He stood in front of Seelie State, dressed in a pair of fresh jeans and an old (but not holey) blue sweater. The sneakers on his feet had disappeared for now, replaced with a pair of too-small tennis shoes.

Why had he spent three hours digging through his closet the night before?

After Isabelle had left, or rather pushed out, he stayed awake with an annoying tune stuck in his head and tore apart his bathroom. Hair gel, spray, expensive cologne he had received on his birthday- nothing that Alec usually bothered with, but after consideration, snatched up the cologne (something by Hugo Boss, Alec thought it smelt nice enough) and started for the closet.

The sweater was a bit itchy around his wrists, so he folded them up after a minute and then held his French books to his chest as he started for class. Along the way, he had run into Jonathan Morgernstern in the doorway. After sizing him up for a minute and giving the boy his best evil eye, he let Alec pass. He weaved his way in and out of students, pausing to wince at the SENIORS OF 2013 display.

B block,

A block.

This is it.

A hand came to adjust his collar briefly, ignoring the protests and the angry murmurings about how he shouldn't have stopped in the middle of the hallway. He wiggled his toes in his socks, and in turn the white fabric of his tennis shoes shifted, like waves in a white sea. The scent on his neck was a little overwhelming, a constant musky odour that never left his nose alone and made him sneeze on more than occasion that morning, and the sleeves on his sweater were driving him insane as they kept sliding down his forearms.

He ran a hand once, twice, three times through his hair, never taking his eyes off the cream colored door to A02. Inside, he knew his teacher was already lazily greeting each student as they entered, and then he would try to remember where he put his coffee, or something that just screamed 'Mr. Bane'. He reached a shaky hand out to grasp the door handle, building up the same courage he had once summoned on his first day of Senior Year- the day he had been late to French.

With a final glance into his phone to make sure he was all good and ready and presentable, he turned the knob and entered the classroom. There weren't a heap of people who had already arrived, mainly just the snorting kid Alec loved oh-so-much sitting up the back with his head in his hands, and one of Camille's friends filing a nail and then chewing on another one in her seat. Mr. Bane was clad in the slacks Alec really loved oh-so-much, and this time- a satin purple button down. He twirled a pencil in one hand and read from a book in the other.

He looked deep in concentration, and judging by the french text on the spine, was translating words in his mind. He looked up at the precise moment Alec decided to tilt his head to one side and admire his teacher at a distance. But he was quickly standing at attention, trying to appear as casual as he possibly could when the older man placed his book page-side up on a nearby desk and then started towards him.

He decided on a stance that didn't look like he was 'trying', cocking a hip to one side lazily and studying Mr. Bane over the books covering his chest. He almost didn't see it, but the French teacher raked his eyes down his body, pausing briefly at the jeans and the blue sweater. His face was expressionless, but his eyes held a certain spark that Alec hoped with all his heart was admiration, to any degree.

Even if he was admiring the wool his sweater was made out of.

The teacher fiddled with his fingers, eyes finally making their way up to Alec's. A smile graced his features, one that made Alec smile goofily in return, feeling like he had impressed the older man (and all by himself, no thanks to Isabelle).

He pressed a little closer on the balls of his feet, presenting his neck to Mr. Bane in a way he hoped wasn't too obvious. By the look on the teacher's face, he had sensed the cologne Alec had pressed below his jaw. He blinked, breathing in through his nose as his smile grew even wider. The blue eyed boy feared that his face would break. Mr. Bane pursed his lips, the lip gloss a cherry red.

"Boss. Number one?" His lips parted as he asked the question, hands finding themselves into the pockets in his slacks. It took the student a moment to realize what he was on about. He was one second away from asking rather rudely, "what?" but then his mind reeled back to the cologne.

"Oh. Yes, I think so," he tried to be suave about it, juggling the books to run a hand through his hair a little awkwardly, and then flashing the teacher a smile that must have looked close to Britney Spears' two thousand and seven paparazzi rampage. Mr. Bane bowed his head, still keeping his gaze locked on Alec. "I would know, I have one also," he waved him in with a hand, turning on his foot, "Come on, Alexander."

Alec followed him.


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"I think she's the one," Jace clumsily walked backwards as he raved on about the redhead he had recently started dating (the one with the over-protective Jupiter glasses friend). Isabelle, who hadn't bothered to look up from her phone, painted fingers tapping away at the keys, mumbled some remark that Alec wasn't particularly listening to. Jace flushed, a rare display, and then the feud began.

After the impression he hoped to have made on his teacher, another five days had passed and school was finished for another weekend. Alec knew that he wouldn't see Mr. Bane until Monday. During the week, his teachers had droned on about Science and History and Maths, all in a monotone that made the student want to claw his eyes out. It was a slow torture, but Alec endured it (with the help of many day-dreams of a lithe, cat-like body and green eyes that glittered). It was difficult to calm his raging emotions in the middle of class, and even more difficult to keep it down when he pictured the two of them in a compromising position and moaning and tasting and grabbing each other.

He managed to stop the images when they suddenly became naked, knowing that there wasn't anything more embarrassing than a hard-on at school. In the middle of class. Where people could potentially spot the thing forming on his right thigh-

"-No offense I mean Clary seems great and all, Jace.. but I really don't care about your love life," Isabelle put a heavy pronunciation on each word, sounding out the letters like she was talking to a four year old. Jace, after a heavy roll of his golden orbs, turned on his heel and started off for the Corolla. Isabelle went back to her texting without a second to spare, lips pursing, "So he can get a significant other, but how about poor Izzy? NOPE-"

And so began the ranting.

The Corolla was parked on the far-end of the lot, looking lonely among the empty parking lines. The only other car that occupied one of the spaces was an electric blue convertible that sparkled in the dying sunlight. The sun had dropped below the trees that lined the school, encasing half of the grounds in shadow and the other in light. He was glad it wasn't raining like it was on Wednesday, when he had come to school with a little gel in his hair and then had his perfectly sculpted wave deflate a little. He cursed the weather for ruining it.

Mr. Bane didn't seem to have a problem though, his hair was still in perfect spikes that stood at attention when French had begun.

Speak of the devil.

Across the lot, a simple messenger back slung over a shoulder and a set of shiny keys in hand, Mr. Bane made a final appearance in Alec's day. He absently stopped walking, not bothering to call Isabelle back as she kept on, and just watched- watched his hips swing in his slacks, the way he yawned a little- feeling a lot creepier than he ever had.

This is such a cliché

The role of 'Stalker watching their prey walking/driving home from a safe distance' is actually you.

His teacher swept some hair off his forehead, humming a tune under his breath as he approached the blue convertible Alec had spotted before.

Why am I not surprised?

It was when a sheet of paper came loose from the pocket of the messenger bag, flying with the wind across the lot towards him, that Alec made his presence known. He snatched the paper out of the air, shouting his teacher's name at the top of his lungs, hoping that Mr. Bane would hear him. And he did. His teacher looked around for a moment, halting on the spot, and then finally caught Alec's eyes.

He had a grin that Alec admired with a sigh. He didn't bother to read the words splayed across the sheet, just holding it up for his teacher to see and waving it through the air. Across the lot, the older man eyed the thing in Alec's hand and then with a sexy 'come hither' look, beckoned him forth with his finger. Alec stopped moving, his whole body freezing, and then placed one foot in front of the other.

And then again, and again, until he built up to a jog, approaching his teacher.

We're alone. No one else is here.

Isabelle and Jace had long since disappeared inside the Corolla, and Alec doubted they would see the display- probably too busy texting or slapping each other. He didn't really care, he only cared about the sudden privacy the teacher and the student had.

Mr. Bane's wryly smiled as the student got closer, and Alec wanted nothing more than to grab his face and plant kiss after kiss on his glossy lips. Alec came to a stop, roughly five feet from his unhealthy addiction. There was a tension in the air that Alec hoped was anything but awkward. There were no words that passed between their lips, no sense of acknowledgement other than their heavy locked eyes.

"You dropped this," he held out the paper, praying that his hand didn't shake.

Mr. Bane, cooler and calmer than usual, started walking towards Alec at a pace that both terrified and excited him. It was slow, like a predator approaching it's next meal, or a sexually excited individual that would give off the impression of 'innocence' and then, when Alec's back was turned, pounce. Not that Alec would mind...

"Thank you, Alec," his voice was like milk and honey as he held out a hand, drawing closer towards the blue eyed boy. Alec took a few steps, deciding to meet the teacher half way, and then Alec was in the middle of the single-handedly most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him.

His foot caught on the gravel.

His cheeks flamed as he stared wide eyed at the ground, praying that he wouldn't actually tumble and fall on his face like an idiot.

This is what happens when you were shoes that don't fit.

Mr. Bane was now reasonably closer, and the intimate space made Alec want to squeal and run away as he fell... right into his teacher.

It was like his heart stopped. If he could have died of embarrassment, if it was possible, Alec would be long gone.

He didn't have a second to look up at his face, but he heard the slap as his messenger bag connected with the ground and the jingle of his keys as they joined the bag, forgotten. A pair of arms secured themselves around Alec's waist. He grunted, moving with the boy as they both tried to regain their footing. A few scary seconds passed, and then Alec's face was pressed against Mr. Bane's chest, listening to the thump thump of his heart. He involuntarily breathed in the man's scent, eyes slipping shut as the sandalwood passed through his nostrils.

One arm draped over the older man's shoulder, gripping onto the collar of his shirt for dear life, the other was bent- a hand placed on his muscular shoulder. Their bodies were tangled in a way that left Alec breathless and hungry for more than just an innocent touch. He lifted his head, momentarily letting the embarrassment slip from his mind, glancing up at his teacher.

He blinked, swallowing against the lump that began to form in his throat. Mr. Bane stared down at him, a curious expression on his face.

The sunset had captured his green eyes in a shiny glow, the high points of his cheekbones (Alec was sure that the mascara and the gloss wasn't all the make-up his teacher wore) shimmering with tiny specks of glitter that Alec hadn't noticed before.

Not only does he wear it, but he likes to put it on his face.

He appeared unaffected by the contact, as Alec expected him to be. But he couldn't help the small part of him that wished his teacher reciprocated the feeling, the need to come closer and to touch Alec in all the right places.

He was all-too aware of the warm arms that encircled his waist, pulling him flush against his body, their legs both bent at weird and different angles. And if Alec was really creepy, he couldn't help but notice the way their hips were almost touching.

Just a little closer...

He fought the smile that demanded to grace his mouth when Mr. Bane lifted them both to a proper standing position, a laugh on his lips, Alec refusing to let go of his shoulders. With a silent sigh, Alec had a sudden surge of courage and pressed further into him.

This time he couldn't fight the smile, instead he dropped his chin to his chest.

There it is.

Alec stood on the tips of his toes as he lent into his teacher, biting his lip. He knew the appropriate response would be to detach himself and then thank him for preventing a horrible, embarrassing fall- but now that he finally had a hold of his teacher... he couldn't seem to let go. He didn't doubt that on Monday morning the older man would avoid him like the plague for his strange behavior, and it was all Alec's damn fault.

He let the worries leave his mind when Mr. Bane smiled reassuringly, a friendly one- but the arms around his waist never left.

"Thank you," Alec breathed, letting the grip on his fingers loosen- the fabric of his teacher's shirt un-bunching itself as he stepped away. The arms around his middle loosened, and Alec tried to ignore the way his fingers tickled his sides as they slid off his body. Mr. Bane didn't seem to notice when Alec froze, didn't seem to realize the innocent-yet-teasing behavior he was displaying or the way that Alec's breath hitched.

If he was a little sexually frustrated in class, he knew he'd be rushing into his room and shoving a hand down his pants when they returned home from school. The older man lent down to pick up the messenger bag and the set of keys he had abandoned. He held out a hand, raising a teasing eyebrow.

Alec held out the paper, blinking.

Much quicker than he had hoped, his teacher shoved the paper into his bag, and sent Alec a slow wave over one shoulder, eyes never leaving him.

His heart racing in his chest, fighting the strain against his zipper, he sprinted to the Corolla.

Inside, Isabelle and Jace were pulling at each other's hair.


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... Well, I did say it gets a little sexy after school.

Magnus is trying to play it cool... I wonder when he's going to snap. ;) Review?

nym x