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The graduation gown was uncomfortably itchy. The color didn’t even look nice on him, he thought to himself and adjusted his dress shirt collar.
Sorey stood four rows away from the heightened platform: the stage for his high school finale. It didn’t really bother him that he wasn’t in the first row; that was the position for the Honor Ten. What really bothered him was his crush’s gaze burning into his back and shoulders. That person who made his heart race and made his blood boil at that soft, sweetly bubbly temperature. Sorey’s face would simmer; every compliment from those soft lips brought him to heaven, and he was soon going to be able to kiss those lips freely.
Lord knows he’s been dreaming of it and planning it for long enough.
Sorey adjusted his feet again in those rigid black dress shoes Selene bought for him. The brunette risked a glance behind him at the bleachers to his left. He somehow knew those eyes would be waiting there for him, and one could visibly recognize the stiffness in Sorey’s stance ripple out of his body.
Halfway up the wooden bleachers with the crisp breeze surrounding sat a man in his mandatory teachers’ graduation gown. Unlike Sorey’s white and red garments, his was black and red, creating a stark contrast to the flowing aquamarine braid resting on his shoulder.
Professor Rulay.
The brunette couldn’t help but break into a grin when he found the professor watching, the soft smile reciprocated with gorgeous amethyst eyes. Sorey, finding himself releasing a held breath, faced forward again to await his diploma.
Nearly four hundred names are called until Sorey’s last name is reached.
“Shepherd, Sorey. High Honors and Service Learning High Honors” called the stout older man, also clad in the black gown. Puffing his chest out proudly, Sorey swore he nearly tripped as he reached the stage.
Two handshakes and a certificate later, Sorey had received his diploma through light thanks and bright smiles. Walking down the center of the two aisles, Sorey caught a glimpse of his mother holding a bouquet and then of Professor Rulay, hands clasped in front of his smile.
The rest of the ceremony went past in a blur. Sorey’s shoes planted on blades of grass, all he could distinctly remember was sitting, waiting for the moment when he could see Professor Rulay again.
A speech from the older man, graying from his nearly thirty years of being a high school principal, and the darkening sky above was occupied by flying white graduate caps and a burst of red, white and gold balloons.
Sorey, on the other hand, was left speechless as his mother approached him through the throng of chaos, embracing him with tears in her eyes.
“Your father would be so proud, Sorey,” she whispers, handing him the generously filled bouquet of coral colored carnations and purple iris lilies. Coming to, Sorey nods softly, wrapping his arms around his mother graciously. He closes his eyes, taking the moment for a deep breath and for the disbelief to fade before hearing his name called in the distance.
“Shepherd-kun!”
Okay, so everyone loves Professor Rulay. Sorey is sure that everyone who has taken his Ancient History course is infatuated with him, and who wouldn’t be?
Those sharp, discerning eyes and the flowing aquamarine hair in the rays of afternoon sunshine are beyond comparison. It didn’t matter whether you enjoyed history, ancient ruins or anthropology in any sense; you prayed for a spot in the new lecturer’s class to be able to see him, to hear him call your name and congratulate you for knowing the answer.
Sorey was a junior when they had first met. It was Professor Rulay’s first official year of teaching as a new instructor. As a student planning on majoring in history and archaeology, the brunette was immediately interested in the well-dressed recruit.
“First of all,” he had placed his teaching binder on the desk with minimal decor. “You can call me by Professor Rulay or similar.” The professor leaned against the desk, one arm propping himself at the angle, one leg relaxed and bent as he spoke.
“As for any questions, my favorite color is blue; I graduated high school when I was sixteen and completed my Masters’ degree this past year.” His eyes scanned the classroom. “Welcome to History: I hope you brought your notebooks.”
The first weeks, despite being strictly taught, were like the soil for the roots of Sorey and his classmates’ crushes on the new instructor. His smile was so softly made as if it was carefully crafted by the angels above from pale marble and quartz.
After Sorey brought his copy of the Celestial Record to class one day, he and Rulay became instant friends. They spent countless afternoons after classes talking about the ruins explained in the browning pages, about Rulay’s archeological digs in the deserts, about the ancient languages and the occasionally inaccurate translations. The professor would always give such an endearing smile when they bantered back and forth about the details.
Sorey could recall perfectly when he realized he had fallen for him more than he thought. As your stereotypical over-achiever does, Sorey tried completing multiple tasks daily. He competed in various sports each season, challenged the Martial Art club members, volunteered after school, studied and restudied until he received As, played the violin beautifully in every orchestral concert, and probably slept as much as a giraffe. Even aside from his hobbies in linguistics and anthropology, Sorey’s habits proved detrimental.
In the end, the teenager burnt himself out quite often. At one point, however, he managed to burn himself out in front of Professor Rulay’s classroom before Rulay himself was leaving. Startled by the noise, Rulay set down his teaching binder and cloth bag of tests to correct to check outside his door, and there he was: Sorey laying on the floor. Anguish and worry burn into the pale skin of Mikleo’s face as he rushes to check for a pulse at the brunette’s neck.
Mikleo released a breath of relief at finding the pulse -slow yet consistent. He hooks his arms around Sorey, picking him up gently by the back and knees. Placing the unconscious student in his plush office chair, he keeps Sorey’s head up with his hand and wraps his jacket around Sorey’s shoulders.
“Shepherd-kun, you really should take better care of yourself,” sighs Mikleo.
Sorey snores a short reply, earning a chuckle from the older man.
“You’re too cute…” Mikleo kissed Sorey’s forehead gently before realizing what he had done, eyes widening as he flushed red. Sorey, unaware of the occurrence, awoke an hour later to the sound of Mikleo correcting tests at a student desk, his red pen scratching comments onto the papers. With the jacket around him and a cool cloth on his forehead to prevent a fever, Sorey had never felt so comforted by another person. He realized he could count on someone else, finally, and his heart swelled at the realization.
Of course, nothing would compare to the first “Casual Friday” that Professor Rulay participated in. Clad in skinny jeans and an argyle sweater vest over a white long sleeve shirt, Rulay became the gossip of the high school after the first hour. The braid over his shoulder catching the glints of sunshine through the tall classroom windows, the way he tilted his head softly as he wrote on the chalkboard and spoke fondly of his experiences caught the attention of everyone.
Girls were stunned; Boys were awestruck, and Sorey was done for.
The way Rulay’s bangs shadowed his left cheek, the gentle intent of his touch when he was worried that Sorey hadn’t slept well, the way the skinny jeans hugged his bottom snugly…
Sorey was struck with a magical spell, and the only name he ever wanted to whisper from that moment was that of Professor Rulay.
He didn’t consider himself as having ever received special treatment until Professor Rulay came to greet him first. Even the honor students wanted Rulay in their graduation photos, and other teachers swarmed to those teenagers first.
Sorey took the chance he saw, rushing towards the smile he caught a glimpse of. In a blur of a tackling hug, Professor Rulay has to step back and find his footing as he wraps his arms around Sorey. They’re at the edge of the football field, feeling the warmth of each other to create their own happy memory. The brunette can feel the silky texture of Mikleo’s hair, and he even catches a trace of the lavender aroma there.
“Congratulations, Shepherd-kun. You’ve definitely earned it.” Mikleo grins as he pulls away. “And a full ride to that university you wanted? I’m proud.”
“You too! I mean, thank you…” stammers Sorey, setting down his bouquet and diploma on the nearest bleacher seat. Scratching the back of his head nervously, he holds out his other hand, anxious for a handshake. Instead, he is welcomed by another warm hug and the delightful sound of Mikleo’s chuckles.
Sorey reluctantly pulls away after a couple seconds, anxiety pooling in his stomach- What happens now? I just leave and never see him again?
Thankfully, Sorey’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft plushness of Mikleo’s lips against his cheek.
“I’ll miss you.” The anguish in his tone was palpable, and Sorey had to take a moment to process all the information.
Professor Rulay’s lips on my cheek… so soft! And those words...
“That’s enough!” Sorey decided, taking Mikleo by the shoulders.
“I…” Sorey takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, afraid yet persevering, “I want to see you again! I don’t… I don’t want this to be the end.” He opens his eyes again, looking into the beautiful amethyst eyes that stare at his own.
With a blush and a bite at his own bottom lip, Mikleo replies softly, “You do?” Sorey nods enthusiastically, causing Mikleo to smile. With a shaking hand, Sorey reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out two slips of paper. “What are…”
“Tickets,” Sorey interrupts. “Dr. Jin Ruigaku is giving a lecture on Neanderthals and their tools,” he chuckles lightly, “and I was kinda hoping for dinner with you afterward too…”
Mikleo blinks with wide eyes, watching the expression on Sorey’s face: the embarrassment mixed with fondness was endearing. After reading his face, Mikleo cannot help but reply eagerly, “Of course!” Sorey’s eyes glimmer as Mikleo takes one of the tickets, reading the details before placing it gently in his front jacket pocket with a smile. “You must’ve gotten these in advance, right?”
Sorey nods.
Mikleo chuckles awkwardly, looking back to Sorey’s gorgeously emerald green eyes, “So tell me…” he begins, “When did you start planning that? Like, when did you start liking me?” The forward question caused Sorey’s face and neck to turn a matching shade to that of his carnations in his bouquet.
“W- Well…” Sorey chuckles back, “Actually, I, ah… I kinda always knew.”
“You what?!” Mikleo’s eyebrows raise as he gapes at the answer.
“No, really!” Sorey waves his hands as if to try and disperse the awkward atmosphere, “I knew the second you walked into class for the first time that I had a major crush on you. After I got to know you more, I kinda realized that... well... there's no one else like you in the world. I really fell for you, ya know?” Sorey wets his lips, scratching the back of his head with his right hand. “I knew that it wouldn't be appropriate to randomly ask you out during the school year, so I decided to... wait until after graduation to ask you out. To be honest, I really wasn't expecting you to kiss me out of nowhere.” Another chuckle and another glance at Mikleo is made.
Fighting the urge to give his adorable crush another kiss, Mikleo looks over at Selene, who has found them at the end of the football field after Sorey’s dash. He turns to walk toward her, only a few steps away from Sorey, all three of them still far from the throngs of people and passing balloons. Taking her hands gently, he asks with all the passion he can muster, “I would like to date your son, please!”
Selene laughs, taken aback for a moment, placing a hand to her mouth to try and muffle the noise. “All he ever does is talk about you. I’m sure you’ll treat him well.”
“Mom!” Sorey groans, embarrassed by the disclosure before realizing what his mother’s statement meant; now he’s a blushing mess that is covering his face.
In a flurry of adoration, Mikleo rushes back to Sorey and moves his hands with a giggle. With the obstruction removed, he was free to disperse soft pecks around Sorey’s face: each of his cheeks, his forehead, his nose…
And one light kiss on his lips, a mere ghost of warmth, a teaser for what would come with time before pulling away.
Sorey manages to sputter “Pr-Professor Rulay” before picking up his bouquet again to have something to hide his face behind.
“…Mikleo is fine, if that’s okay with you, Shepherd-kun.” Mikleo smiles.
“…Sorey, please.” And Mikleo giggles- a beautiful sound if ever there was one to behold.