The classes dragged on, and by the time Shawn's class arrived, Jean found himself unexpectedly tense for reasons he couldn't fully explain.
He had managed to pay attention through every lesson that day, determined to keep himself grounded after finally accepting what fate had thrown at him.
He told himself that you couldn't force someone to like you, and that if you pushed your way into someone's life until they eventually accepted you, then it only meant one of three things-
Either they pitied you, or they were simply tolerating you without truly valuing you, or they were using you.
The third reason… he didn't have it.
All he knew was that he would respect Shawn's boundaries from now on and stop pushing, no matter how much it itched to try again.
When the classroom door opened, Jean's gaze dropped instantly, as if he genuinely didn't want to see Shawn, maybe he was afraid that one look would undo all the resolve he had built up.
The room fell into a silence deeper than usual.
"Good afternoon," Shawn greeted, his voice lower than it had been the previous day.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Geller," the class responded.
Jean remained silent, despite himself, he lifted his gaze, and unexpectedly, his eyes met Shawn's.
Shawn quickly looked down at the book in his hands, while Jean found it impossible to look away.
There was something in Shawn's face, a hint of fatigue that stirred an unwanted concern in Jean.
If Shawn wasn't bothered by what was happening between them, then what exactly was?
None of his business, Jean reminded himself, forcing his gaze away.
That was when he caught Ian staring at him, then at Shawn, then back at him again, his expression holding something close to shock.
"What?" Jean whispered.
"Nothing," Ian replied quickly, looking away.
Jean wanted to press further, but he held back, deciding to ask later instead. Ian couldn't have noticed anything… could he?
When Jean looked back up, Shawn had already begun teaching. The class was unusually attentive, more than they had ever been, and when questions were asked, more hands went up than usual.
But Jean wasn't hearing anything.
All he could hear was the voice that had once broken into moans against his skin.
All he could see were the lips that had pulled him under, that had emptied his mind completely, and now it felt like he was losing his sanity trying not to think about them.
All he could see was that body pressed on top of him.
He jerked suddenly when a sharp pain hit his thigh, realizing Ian had pinched him like he had asked.
The sound of the chair scraping the floor made all the students turn, their gazes moving from him to Ian.
But Jean and Ian both sat rigidly, staring forward as if nothing had happened.
Shawn said nothing and continued the lesson.
The class ended without Jean hearing a single word. For the first time since morning, he hadn't absorbed anything at all in class.
Students sometimes left while the teacher was still in class, but with Shawn, they stayed seated calmly and quietly until he had walked out the door.
Only then did most of them exhale loudly, as if they had been holding their breath the entire time, and chatter immediately filled the room.
"If every teacher was like Mr. Geller, I swear I would have dropped out of school long ago," one student shouted over the noise.
"He's way too strict," another added.
"He's lucky he's hot, otherwise…" a girl said, and the entire class burst into laughter, most of them agreeing.
"Yeah," another girl chimed in. "He has my permission to be as strict as he wants… only because he's smoking hot," she said dramatically, leaning back as if she were melting, which made everyone laugh even louder.
"I get why he's like this!" a boy suddenly said, standing on his desk. "It's all your fault, girls! He knows you'll try to mess with him! If this was a boys' school only, he'd be chill. He looks like a cool guy, after all." The boys agreed while the girls immediately argued back.
Another girl stepped to the front. "I think we need more teachers like Mr. Geller, especially in senior year. I've never paid this much attention in class before." most of the students agreed while others continued arguing.
The noise slowly faded as students began leaving the classroom, still talking about Shawn.
Jean usually participated in moments like this, but today he didn't say a single word.
~
This was what they called 'games time'. Not actual games, but the period after the last class of the day when school shifted into clubs, sports, detention, or just hanging around until dismissal.
Those in sports teams went for practice or meetings, those in clubs headed to their activities, those in detention had no freedom to roam, and those with nothing to do simply wandered, watched games, or went to the library.
Asher and the others left the class too, but Jean stayed behind with Ian.
Ian was about to slip away when Jean stopped him. "Not so fast, little weirdo. You've got some questions to answer," Jean said, making him sit back down.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Nothing," Ian replied quickly. "I was just overthinking. I swear."
Jean watched him closely. It was better that Ian thought he was overthinking- when he clearly wasn't. Maybe Ian had noticed something between him and Shawn and decided it was impossible, so he dismissed it as imagination.
How sharp was this boy, really? He didn't seem as clueless about most things as he appeared to be.
"Whatever," Jean said, sitting casually on the desk. "Anyway, I have a question."
He paused before continuing. "What would you do if you liked someone who doesn't exactly push you away because they hate you, but still keeps pushing you away anyway?"
He hadn't realized how much the question weighed on him until he said it out loud and felt a little lighter.
He knew it was a bad time to ask Ian something like that, especially after Ian had already started suspecting him and Shawn, but he needed an answer. Because whenever he told himself to stay away from Shawn, he only ended up wanting him more.
Ian was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.
"I don't know… maybe I'd just stay away. I'd give them some space, and if they don't reach out to me after I step back, I'd take that as a sign that they don't really want me around or miss my presence at all. Then I'd try to move on for real this time, even if it still hur..."
His phone suddenly vibrated, and he stopped mid-sentence. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted, becoming slightly tense.
Without another word, he stood up and rushed out like he was already late.
Jean didn't stop him this time.