Work Text:
Constance was never in detention before. And it wasn’t even really her fault! Well. It was. But who let Mischa into school today, looking this handsome? Who told him it was alright? He was gorgeous before, sure, but she never saw him like this. It was definitely the new clothes, the brushed, but still messy hair, and maybe a new cologne?
Of course she was distracted in class. She was too busy drawing hearts in her notebook, and her mind wasn’t in the classroom anyway. It’s not like she didn’t know about what they were learning. If the teacher bothered to ask her about the subject she would answer.
But instead the teacher took her notebook and showed it to the class. Thankfully Constance was smart enough to not write down any names, just hearts. But for a conservative religious school that was enough to humiliate her and send her to detention. Constance rolled her eyes and barely held herself from flipping the teacher off when he turned around.
And now she was in detention, kicking the air, bored out of her mind. At least until Mischa walked in. He must’ve been in detention before. Many times. A bad boy.
Blood rushed to Constance’s cheeks. And then he noticed her, and pulled his chair closer to her table, and she felt like she was a diver who’s air pipe was just chewed off by a shark. A very hot shark.
Ok that last thought was kinda gross.
She turned a little away from him so he wouldn't see how her face flushed, but then the teacher came in and called for their attention. It was Mrs Richards, the most boring old teacher in school. She told them that they were very bad kids, and that they had to quietly do their homework.Then she left.
Only then did Constance realize that her and Mischa were the only ones in the classroom. It was kinda… kinda…
Before she could finish the thought and faint from it, Mischa grabbed her hand, and her heartbeat, it seemed, jumped at least 20 beats per minute. Felt like a serious medical issue. She should totally get that checked out.
“Constance?” he asked, his voice low, feeling like how a velvet dress feels against skin.
“Yes?” she replied, trying not to quiver.
“Will you help me? I can barely understand this”
He showed her the assignment in the chemistry textbook. Constance felt great about it, actually. She loved chemistry, and was very much able to help. And it could distract her from thinking about Mischa.
Even though he was right there, so damn near her, with definitely new cologne, and swoopy hair, and the voice, and the way his hand laid over hers, and his face was so close…
Yeah, if she let herself think about it, she would surely, one hundred percent not be ok. But she was in her element. Get it? Because chemistry?
Constance finally finished explaining the last assignment. She took a deep breath, watching Mischa write all of the things down. But then he turned to her, with this… devilish smile.
“I believe I owe you for tutoring,” he said, “but oh, I have nothing but myself to offer…”
Constance raised her eyebrow. What was he even saying?
“You really don’t have to give me anything-” she started to say, but his hand already found it’s way around her, and he pulled her closer.
She even barely had time to feel like she malfunctioned before his lips found hers, pushing her against the back of her seat, and against his hand. Fireworks lit up and blew up in her stomach.
He pulled away slowly, and winked at her, before leaving the classroom, letting her wonder what the fuck just happen.
And how the fuck does she make it happen again.