Chapter Text
Of all of the children that had ever beamed up at him when they arrived at school, that had ever brought him an apple for lunch, that had hugged him at the end of the day before they got on the bus, Brody was Alex's favorite. He wasn't meant to have favorites, obviously, just as a mother wasn't meant to have favorites: they were all his to look after and teach, equally. But something about the small dirt-covered boy had always pulled at Alex's heart stings. He was bright, quick, thoughtful, understanding. But, probably above all else, blunt and curious.
At ten past three every day, Alex walked the children outside to the buses, or to where their parents were waiting in their cars. Brody's father was always at least five minutes late, without fail. And in those five minutes, Brody would somehow manage to tell Alex a million stories about whatever crossed his mind.
He always asked for his teacher's input, as well. "What do you think, Mr. Turner?" At the end of nearly every long statement, he inquired Alex's thoughts on the matter.
"Where do butterflies go in the winter?"
"I'm not sure, Brody. Perhaps they fly away with the birds, yeah?"
"I think they could live inside with us. They could sleep inside. Then they wouldn't have to fly a really long ways. What do you think, Mr. Turner?"
Alex chuckled to himself and shook his head in appreciation. "I think that's a charming idea. Will you try this winter?"
Something caught the boy's attention momentarily, and then he mused deeply, trying to remember the forgotten question. "Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Are you married?"
There he was: the blunt and ever so curious Brody. Alex shook his head. "No, I'm not."
"Do you want me to bring you a butterfly this winter so you're not lonely?"
There he was: the thoughtful and touchingly understanding Brody. Alex smiled down at the boy. "That would be lovely."
"What do butterflies eat?"
His attention was stolen again, thankfully. (Alex hadn't the faintest what butterflies ate. Leaves?) Brody inhaled sharply and pointed. "There's dad!"
Alex looked up to see the white truck pulling up next to the school. The door opened and his dad came around the car to scoop up a running Brody into his arms. Despite the divorce, it seemed that the boy wasn't being neglected, and Alex mentally thanked the fates for that. Brody turned to wave goodbye, and Alex returned the wave, sharing a nod with the father as well.
Every day, the same excited look in his eyes, the same abundance of questions, and the same admiration for his teacher, which was mirrored without edit. He'd become Alex's favorite, undoubtedly.
"Do you think his dad knows that school lets out at three rather than half-past?" A body appeared right behind Alex. Warmth and a familiar scent clouded over his shoulder. "Because he's never on time and it's occurred to me that he might not actually be aware."
"He's only ever five or ten minutes late. Not so bad." Alex watched the white truck drive off. Brody's father must have been later than usual, if Miles was already free of all of his own students.
"Besides," Alex carefully turned around, very aware of the space between them, "it gives me time to talk to my best mate for a while before he leaves."
"Oh yeah? Talk about what balloons are made of again, did you?"
"Butterflies, actually."
Miles smirked. "Charming."
Alex felt himself smiling and cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes. Miles had never been one for silences, though.
"I'm on coffee run. Wanna ride along?"
Alex shook his head as he took a deep breath. "I've got papers from Barker I've gotta work on."
"Oh yeah?" He crossed his arms. "Same papers you were working on last week when I asked you out for coffee?"
Looking up slowly, Alex watched the other teacher quirk an eyebrow and lick his smirking bottom lip. A brief moment was all Alex allowed himself to stare at his colleague. He knew from experience that the longer he stared, the further he walked into the danger zone of doing something completely stupid.
Before he could feel the familiar twinge in his stomach fully climb up his spine and redden his face, he ducked his head and maneuvered around Miles, heading towards the school.
Miles Kane: the only disruption in Alex's white picket fence life. He'd moved to a very small town and gotten a job at the elementary school, hoping to work on his book while he lived a calm and sunny life. When he'd first settled into town, he'd been pleased to find that there were little to no single women his age that he might find distracting from his life of zen. That was, of course, before he met the lanky sixth grade teacher.
That was a little over a year ago. It had been an uphill trudge since then. Or downhill stumble, rather, since Alex somehow became a bumbling idiot every time the other man was around - rightly so, too, as Miles wasn't too subtle about his elongated gazes and 'under the cover' romantic quips he tossed around.
Miles turned as Alex passed him. "Do them when we get back?" he negotiated.
"I don't like to procrastinate."
"Do them quickly and we can go after you're done."
"It's going to take a bit of time."
Miles pushed his hands into his pockets as Alex reached the doors. "What do you want, then, while I'm out?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Liar."
"Really, I've got the school's coffee-"
"The school's coffee is shit."
Alex opened his mouth, found no words, and couldn't help cough out a laugh. "It... does just fine."
"Alright, so a black coffee. Anything else?"
"Miles-"
Miles pulled his keys from his pocket as he turned away. "Be back in a bit, then. Enjoy the papers."
It never mattered if he said he wanted anything along with his coffee or not. If Miles was on coffee run, he was sure to bring back something else. Alex blamed that for the reason he couldn't keep a grin off his face at the thought of coffee.
Twenty minutes later, Miles walked into Alex's class room, making for the desk the working teacher sat at. He set down a tall coffee cup, along with two small muffins. Before Alex could say the usual 'You really didn't have to', Miles had walked out.
Normally, when faced with an attractive being who did small things for him and smirked like a bandit, Alex had no problem convincing himself that the last thing he needed was to get hooked onto a new suitor. He'd done it many times in the past. Cocky smirkers were as common as leather jackets to Alex, and convincing himself he didn't have time had become as common as cigarette breaks. But there was one major difference between Miles and all the other cocky smirkers he had ever known. The other cocky smirkers had flirted when they were feeling lonely in hopes that he would have a one night stand with them and then part ways in the morning, no strings attached. If he was lucky, he'd get a 'thanks for last night' text sometime around noon.
Miles, however, flirted like it was his second job, no matter what the atmosphere, in the hopes that Alex would agree to a date with him, and they would wake up in the morning in the same bed, no 'thank you' texts necessary. Miles wanted a relationship - there was no missing that (Miles had come straight out and said it more than a couple times), and Alex had been the one to capture his attention. Accidentally, of course.
Alex had become infatuated with Miles when they'd met, yes, but not as much as Miles had become infatuated with him. It was easy saying no to cocky smirkers because they went away and didn't bother you once their egos were damaged. Saying no did absolutely nothing to Miles's ego, and he was back the next day with a new tactic.
It was easy to say no to cocky smirkers because Alex truly did not want to have any relations with them. To say no to Miles was to lie to everyone in the conversation. And everyone in the conversation normally included Brody.