School, Work, & Boys

Getting in the groove of a school schedule after sleeping in and working for a month straight, proved to be harder than you thought.

You'd set your alarm for fifteen minutes later than needed and struggled to get up with dark grey clouds taking over the sky. By the time you were sprinting to school, puddles scattered the streets and sidewalks from the summer rainfall. Without an umbrella, you used your bag to block the droplets.

Nothing would keep you from your first day back. Your first day of seeing Sting after your kiss a whole month ago. Your heart soared at the thought of seeing his goofy grin and sun-shining hair, even his delinquent piercing that had him jingle like a bell on a cat.

The rain shower soaked but refreshed you. You threw your head back to take in the distinct scent of water hitting the pavement, deciding you no longer needed your bag to block the drizzle.

"You better hurry, hot stuff!" Minerva's cackle carried over the rainfall; she called out to you from the class window on the second floor when you sprinted through the school entrance.

You kicked off your outdoor shoes and jammed on your pair for school. On the way to class, you squeezed the water out of your hair and shook the water sitting on the surface of your bag.

Wheezing, you leaned on the class doorframe, gasping for an ounce of air that wouldn't reach your lungs. It wouldn't put it past you if you'd coughed out your lungs.

"Wow, straight-A (Y/N) late to class? That's a surprise," Minerva chuckled.

"Alarm... went off... later than—oh my gosh I can't breathe—" You panted to your desk, falling into your chair and laying your head on the surface of your desk.

You'd noticed as soon as you walked in, "Where's Sting? And Rogue?" Then you saw all the seats bordering you empty aside from Minerva and Yukino. "And Orga and Rufus?"

Minerva pointed back to the door with her thumb. "They went to get snacks. My dad had Sting and I take roll and make everyone start reading. Don't worry, we didn't mark you as late or absent."

"Thank you," you sighed and closed your eyes.

"No problem. You should be fine for another fifteen minutes—my dad got pulled into a scolding by the headmaster for screaming at children on sports day."

Screw the extra study time... you were chilled to the bone and attempting to find a regular breathing pattern. You crossed your arms over your face on the desk and turned to peek through them and stare at the falling rain outside.

"I think it's time I bought you an umbrella, sweetheart."

Your head shot up to find a small bag sitting in front of you. Sting crouched down in front of you to match your eye level, forcing your cheeks to flare. "This should help for now," he said and dropped a clean towel over your damp head, tussling it to dry you off. "My gym uniform is clean—you should wear it for the day."

"O-Okay..." you mumbled, sitting in disbelief at how gorgeous this boy could be on a school day at eight in the morning; he wore his white button-down with the uniform jacket thrown over his shoulders.

"Come on, I got you a treat. I doubt you ate anything before running out the house." 

"Thanks." You sat up straight, towel falling on your shoulders as you sifted through the bag on your desk. Sting grabbed the chair from his desk and brought it to yours, grabbing a bun out of the bag for himself.

"How was your trip to see your dad?" You asked, biting into a croissant.

Sting rubbed his eyes. "Exhausting. We toured the city a lot for his job, but other than that, I spent most of my time sleeping in the hotel and doing homework."

It was difficult to ignore the towel that smelled so much like him and his cologne. He sat in front of you with a smile you wanted etched into your memory forever. Sting overwhelmed you in the best way.

"And how about you? You like the new job?" He asked.

"Mhmm, Eclair can be hard to read, but she's pretty nice when she wants to be," you said, blinking slower than before. That bread hit the spot and lulled you into a new state of worn-down.

A few more students left the class to use the restroom or visit other students. Yukino and Minerva vanished, leaving you and Sting to yourselves with less than half the class still in attendance.

"You tired?" Sting laughed, reaching over to wipe under your tired eyes with his cold thumb. "Why don't you take a nap? I'll wake you when Mr. Orland gets back."

You checked the door, finding no movement on the outside, trusting you could fit ten minutes of rest in. "Just for a bit." You curled back over your desk, resting your head on your arms. "Don't let me fall asleep all the way."

"Okay," he chuckled and brushed some of your hair out of your face. "I've never seen you this tired in school. You don't have a fever, do you?"

"I don't think so," you said.

Sting's hand glided down to take one of your hands—he started to draw shapes with his thumb on your palm. "Wanna guess what I drew?"

"I think you're being more relaxing than distracting," you giggled, trying to keep your eyes open. "Is it... a tree?"

"Nope. Good guess though." Sting snaked his fingers between yours, keeping them there as you dozed off. 

In a flash of a moment, a chair scratched across the floor, waking you ten minutes later to the other half of class coming back in. Sting had cleaned up your snacks and pulled out his gym jacket for you to put on instead of your soaked uniform coat. You slid into it, feeling sweet relief from the warmth, and stuck your soaked uniform and Sting's towel in one of the cubbies lined at the back of the classroom.

Just in time for your friends to come in with hands full of random snacks and drinks. Sting returned to his seat, winking at you the second you turned around to thank him for the uniform.

"Okay class," Mr. Orlans boomed across the room. "Let's get back to the lesson."

' .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. '

"Thank you, please come again!"

Customer service was great when people in the neighborhood loved you. A regularly visiting old couple adored you, and plenty of high schoolers from the rival high school down the street popped in for afternoon snacks. After those rushes, the foot traffic drops a great deal, leaving Eclair to close early most nights.

"(Y/N), mind rounding up the pastries going out tonight?" Eclair hollered from the back where she began the daily cleaning.

"Got it!" You took the day-old loaves and treats and bagged them up for Eclair to donate. She was nice enough to let you take home a bag for yourself every shift.

What you hated taking home with you was the smell. Delicious or not, the scent of a bakery on your clothes wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Before you leave for the day, can you do a quick sweep of the lobby?"

"Of course!"

In the bakery, you balanced each other's energy—Eclair handled the problematic customers and the more serious part of the job while you chirped away with the chatty customers she hated seeing. More than once, she'd thanked you for being the face while she worked the ovens.

"Hey Eclair," you called to the back, keeping a glare on the chick that still sat at the register.

"What is is?"

"Well, I guess I should've asked this earlier, but what's that stuffed bird next to the register all the time?"

"His name is Momon," she replied simply as if expecting you to understand from that alone.

"Alright then..."

' .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. '

Out of uniform and plastered with a heart-throbbing smirk, your bodacious blonde greeted you on the stairs of your apartment complex. "Too bad, I was hoping for a cute uniform."

You rushed up the stairs and greeted him with a hug. "You should've visited—I wore a red apron over a t-shirt. It was quite the look."

"I bet," he said, keeping a hold on you by the waist. "Maybe when I'm not in five school activities," he sighed and dropped his head on yours. "I'm so tired of school."

You pet his head, lips aching from the endless smile you held. Thunder rumbled in the distance, bringing in another bout of rain you'd rather not be caught in.

You tugged on his shirt, leading him to your front door. "Come on, I'll put on some tea."

Sting made his way to the table in the middle of the room as you set a kettle on the stove. Not wanting to smell like baked goods, you ran to take a short shower; you'd changed and dried your hair by the time the kettle whistled.

"Here." You gave him a cup and sat down next to him with your own cup. "Feel better?"

He moans at the taste. "So much better."

You kept your hands warm against the cup, enjoying the quiet moment together with him.

"Did you get more stuff?" Sting noticed, looking around your room and finding a lamp and more furniture like a short bookshelf and dresser.

"Yeah, I went to a flea market and found some furniture for cheap."

"It looks nice," Sting grinned. "Are you starting to feel a little more at home?"

"Mhmm, it feels nice to be a little more financially independent. My father still pays for my school, so I suppose my family would rather have a capable daughter rather than nothing at all."

Sting blinked. "Still pays? What happened?"

Oh shit. You completely forgot you hadn't told Sting about the drama with the betrothal and Rogue, his best friend!

"We just... had a falling out." You'd just gotten together. How could you ruin that with bullshit drama like that? "It's not worth mentioning."

"You sure?"

You took in the sight of him, fitting perfectly in your home, creating a cozy environment you wanted to cacoon in for hours. "I'm sure."

More thunder rumbled and a shower of rain banged against your porch doors. "Damn, now I have to run home in this shit," Sting groaned, rubbing his palms hard against his eyes.

"I mean..." You blushed to the tips of your ears. "I'm not going to kick you out or anything... you can stay however long you want."

Sting's cheeks blossomed in a rose color. "You mean that?"

"Mhmm."

' .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. '

The events leading up to bedtime were mild; you studied with him and tested each other on the test coming up. Sting made dinner, sharing his day with you as you gobbled the meat and rice down. You maybe left the apartment once to grab the mail, otherwise staying in the rest of the night.

You offered to share your futon, laying back-to-back to keep from revealing your eager expressions. The elephant in the room sat between you two, vanishing when Sting shuffled to face you.

"(Y/N)..." he set a hand on your shoulder first, sending a shiver down your body and back up to your neck. With slight hesitation, Sting slid his arms around your body, wrapping you against his chest and pecking the back of your neck with a soft kiss. "Is this alright?"

You nodded your head, humming to contain a squeak you almost released.

He kissed down your spine, pulling your shirt to kiss your upper back and really force you to let out a squeal. "Sorry—"

"Are you ticklish?" He smirked, lifting out of the futon to cage you against the ground. "Or is it the kisses?"

You hide your face behind your hand, lightly whispering, "A little..."

"Then," he said and pulled your hands away. "Is this better?" Sting took your lips in his, smiling into the act until he had you giggling beneath him.

Your chest burned in a delight as he pressed against you. Your hands found their way back to his fluffy locks, entangling them as his tongue snuck into your lips. You tried imitating him with tongue flicks and head nods, but it only made him smile harder.

"You're so cute..." he breathed against your neck, kissing there too.

He kissed and kissed, devouring you until your lips turned numb and you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.