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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years ago

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Enemies to Lab Partners to Make Out Session Associates

This is a commissioned piece for @eat-moar-veggis for their sanders sides OC ask blog: @ask-villegas-sides .

Summary: When Flint, the science teacher and also Beckett’s dad, paired up Beckett with Reese on a group project to help them ‘grow closer’, he never could have anticipated how close the boys would actually grow. Also featuring guidance counselor Lev.

Commission info available here! Commissions are open! :)

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“Dad, please, don’t pair me up with Reese.” Beckett begged, staying after class with his father, Flint, the high school Chemistry teacher. “He’s insufferable.”

“You seem to be under the impression that everyone is insufferable.” Flint mused.

“Well, it’s true!” Beckett said exasperatedly. “But he’s extra insufferable. No, he’s just extra, period.”

“Is that a slang term?” Flint asked, stacking a few student’s papers on his desk so it appeared more orderly.

“Yes, dad, it’s slang, and in this case it means bad.” Beckett groaned. “Reese is the epitome of everything wrong with the world. He likes crowds, and people, and things.”

“You like ‘things’, as you put it so delicately.” Flint was clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, but not theatre things.” Beckett stuck out his tongue. “Or jock things. He’s probably gonna end up shoving the whole project onto my plate, and if that happens I’m not doing it so I need a new partner.”

Flint paused, putting a hand to his chin as if he was considering the proposition. “I always wondered what it would feel like to fail my own son.”

Beckett immediately paled at his words. “Dad, you’re…you’re not serious, right?”

“I’m always serious.” Flint assured him, gesturing to his necktie as further evidence to his serious nature. “Beckett, it’s a group assignment, not the end of the world.”

“Sounds the same to me.” Beckett muttered.

“Beckett, I will not be having any more disruptions in my class.” Flint said, his voice turning stern as he glared down over the bridge of his nose. “You and Reese have been solely responsible for three interruptions in my class in the past week. I will stand for it no longer. Pairing you two up is my last warning for you two to get. Along. If I don’t see the two of you growing close over this assignment, I will be forced to report your behavior to the school board and fail you both for this project.”

“Dad!” Beckett’s jaw dropped, shocked at how harsh his dad could be.

“My word is final, Beckett.” Flint gave a nod to the door. “I trust you heard my declaration as well, Reese?”

Beckett turned to see the theatre athlete standing in the door frame, looking as though he was about to knock. Reese lowered his hand, looking sheepish. “…clearly, Mr. Flint.”

“Good.” Flint seemed pleased with this resolution. “Then I trust you two will spend the rest of your study hall getting started instead of moaning to me about how unjust my decisions are. The library should be an ideal place to set up.”

“The library should be an ideal place to set up.” Reese mocked, only for his eyes to widen in horror as he realized he said that out loud. “I mean, uh, meet you there!”

“No running in the halls!” The counselor’s called from the hall, the sounds of frantic footfalls slowing only slightly on the tiled floors.

“Guess I better go after him.” Beckett muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and trudging down the hall.

It wasn’t fair. His dad shouldn’t be able to force Beckett to behave with Reese as if he could just shove them into one of those two-person ‘get along’ shirts. This was totally embarrassing! Beckett didn’t even care about the stupid grade in the first place, having planned on bailing the second he figured out his partner, but now he had to actually make- ugh, an effort- so that he didn’t end up on the gallows in front of the entire school board.

“You’re late.” Reese commented the moment Beckett arrived, setting the teen’s teeth on edge.

“Well, you cheated.” Beckett growled. “And you’re a prick.”

“Ah, I see you’re just as pleasant outside of daddy’s class as you are inside.” Reese rolled his eyes with a smile. He held out his palm. “Give me your phone.”

“What the hell? No.” Beckett frowned, considering this to be the world’s worst mugging attempt.

“I’m not stealing it.” Reese rolled his eyes again. He seemed to do that a lot. “I’m just going to put in my phone number.”

“Why can’t I have your phone, then?” Beckett raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, and get your weird witchy cult vibes all over it?” Reese looked like he was pretending to gag. “No thanks.”

“You shouldn’t insult me if you want something.” Beckett argued.

“You walked in here and immediately called me a prick.” Reese deadpanned.

“Well, you said I was late.”

“’Cause you were.”

“Maybe you were just stupidly early.”

The two were quiet for a moment, irritated energy practically seething off of them both.

“A truce, then.” Reese decreed, pulling out a pen and paper. He wrote down his number, sliding it across the table to Beckett who typed it into his phone. Reese’s own phone dinged a moment later, and he pulled it out to check the message.

B: Hey stupid.

Reese rolled his eyes, not even bothering to reply as he tucked the phone back into his pocket. “I don’t just hand out my phone number to everyone, so treat this as a privilege. Don’t abuse it.”

Beckett raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “You got it.”

A moment later Reese’s phone dinged again, so he pulled it out.

B: Made ya look. ;p

“Oh, real mature.” Reese huffed, putting his phone back and not deigning Beckett with a response. Beckett seemed content to keep staring down at his phone, a series of chimes coming from Reese’s pocket again. “Beckett, I swear on Evan Hansen himself I will block your number.”

Okay, yeah, maybe Beckett was being a little immature. But watching the steam metaphorically blow out of Reese’s ears when he saw the stream of penguin emojis he kept endlessly sending made it all worth it. Who knows? Maybe messing with Reese wasn’t his dad’s intended goal of this pairing, but it was certainly a nice side effect. Eventually, Beckett stopped sending penguins long enough to agree on a time to meet up after class, the bell indicating their study period was over.

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B: You’re late.

Beckett tapped his foot impatiently, trying not to let his anxiety overwhelm him while he waited. This was where they always met, having started meeting up regularly a month ago. He had already checked, double-checked, and triple-checked their meeting spot twenty times on his phone in the last ten minutes. There it was, plain as day: Reese had said to meet at the library at 4:00 today. Now it was 4:20 (holla), and Beckett was considering ghosting Reese for the rest of existence.

But no, that wouldn’t work. With his luck Becket messed up which library they were supposed to meet at and Reese was going to be mad at him and then Beckett’s dad would think he wasn’t trying to make this work and they’d both fail and Reese would hate him forever-

…wait. Why did he care what Reese thought of him?

Beckett scrambled for his phone, hearing an almost silent ‘ding!’ in the foreboding silence of the library.

R: So sorry, practice is running late. Be there in five?

Practice? Practice for what? Beckett couldn’t even begin to guess. It seemed that Reese had a habit of signing himself up for quite literally everything the school offered. Beckett could never keep track of all that, and he never wanted to either; who needed all that unwanted pressure? High school was bad enough, thank you.

Beckett bounced his leg, nervously watching the clock count with agonizing slowness. It felt weird, just sitting here alone in the library where anybody could be staring at him. He knew the others were judging him. Beckett could feel their stares on the back of his neck, and took solitude in trying to distract himself with his phone. The battery was dying.

4:29. No sign of the jock in sight. Should he text again? Was that rude?

Beckett shook his head. This was ridiculous, he wasn’t the rude one. Reese had practically ditched him after making this plan in the first place.

B: You’re still late.

Even knowing he was in the right, Beckett held his breath as those three little dots appeared, indicating the thespian was typing.

R: Sorry!! This might take a while. Mind meeting me at the football field?

Yes, Beckett did mind; he minded very much. The football field was where kids like Beckett got beat up- not that Beckett went there often enough for that to happen, but cliché teenage Rom Coms never lie. Still, Beckett had nothing better to do, and he needed Reese to pull his weight in this project. It was with no small amount of grumbling that Beckett reminded himself that Reese was a… surprisingly competent partner. For a jock, anyway.

B: Be there in five.

Unlike Reese, Beckett actually meant it. His anxiety wouldn’t allow him to be tardy for fear of disappointing someone, even if that someone was a theatre kid with his gigantic head stuck in a football helmet.

He wasn’t going because he wanted to, in fact frankly Beckett would rather be just about anywhere else. Of all the activities he refused to participate in, sports was at the top. He couldn’t imagine exhausting himself, all eyes on him as he put his body through strenuous situations of his own free will. It was suicide. Not to mention, people got so invested in sports games; how did the players deal with all that pressure? If you missed the ball, you were letting the entire school down. And, even if you won (highly unlikely, given their football record the past few years), the opposing team would still hate you for making them lose. No matter what, you ended up sweaty and boo-ed. Yeah, no thanks.

But, as he turned the corner, Beckett’s eyes widened at all the muscled high school boys, realizing they were divided into shirts and skins. His heart rate increased, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that Reese was part of the half that was shirtless because on the one hand oh my god he’s so hot I’m too gay for this- and on the other hand how dare he look that hot I’m supposed to be mad at him.

…so maybe not all aspects of sports were inherently evil.

“Hey, Beckett!” Reese gave him a wave, jogging over to meet him with a smile on his face. Beckett’s own face flushed, and he burrowed further into his oversized hoodie. How did Reese manage to look so comfortable in his own skin when he was only wearing half his clothes?! Totally unfair. “I’m so sorry about all this, coach just wants us to run a few more plays before we’re done for the evening. But I figured it’d be best if you were here, so we can get started as soon as we’re done. Do you want to watch?”

I would like that very much. Beckett gave an awkward cough, shoving that thought into the far recesses of his mind. “Uh, yeah, I could do that, I guess.”

Reese gave a nod of acknowledgement, jogging back to his team as they did…a sports thing. Beckett couldn’t really comprehend what was going on, but the men seemed to be running back and forth a few times across the field.

Beckett looked up at the bleachers, deciding to take a seat while he waited. A few friends of the football players were up here as well, including a scattering of girlfriends. Beckett let them keep the front few rows and instead climbed his way to the very top where he could avoid having a social interaction ever.

The autumn wind was chillier up here, and Beckett pulled his jacket tighter around his chest. How was Reese not freezing out there? Granted, he was running around and sweating up a storm, but he was still shirtless. Why was the coach being so cruel? Would Reese catch a cold? That would be awful, especially since Beckett didn’t know how to cook soup to make him feel better- THE PROJECT! It would be awful because Reese wouldn’t be able to help him with the project. That was most certainly the only reason.

It was times like these Beckett truly loathed his dad for trying to force him to get along with the annoying hot popular guy. The world was already in love with Reese, so what did it care what Beckett thought? Beckett was nothing. He was the discarded gum that got stuck to the bottom of people like Reese’s shoes, only to be scraped off at their earliest convenience. People in high school shouldn’t be put up on a pedestal, and Beckett used to have no qualms about putting Reese in his place because Beckett was so low on the food chain he had nothing to lose.

Now, Beckett felt like he was on the brink of losing everything he had never gained in the first place.

“BECKETT!” The emo jumped, startled out of his depressing thoughts when he heard his name being called. He glanced down, seeing Reese at the bottom of the bleachers, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. The idiot was still shirtless. “PRACTICE IS OVER!”

Did that mean Beckett should come down? He assumed so. Carefully he descended the stairs, feeling uncomfortable at the sensation of being watched. Reese was definitely watching, and a few other bystanders turned to give him curious glances as well. Beckett must be the first cryptid to ever show up to football practice.

“Put on a shirt.” Beckett muttered, not looking Reese in the eye when he finally got to the bottom of the stairs.

Reese blinked, seeming surprised by this statement as he glanced down at his bare chest. When he looked up, the smirk on Reese��s face made Beckett want the earth to swallow him whole. “Why? Like what you see? Is my herculean frame too distracting for your mortal presence?”

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” Beckett huffed, which only seemed to make things worse as Reese let out a sort of squeal.

“Aww, I knew you care.” Reese cooed, and now Beckett wanted to die on the spot.

“Yeah, because a dead lab partner doesn’t do me any good.” Beckett said defensively, his shoulders hiking up to his ears. “But a partner that ditches isn’t any better.”

Reese paused, the smile on his face quickly falling. “I- you’re right, I’m sorry-“

“Whatever.” Beckett cut him off. “Just get your clothes on and let’s go.”

Reese nodded, quickly pulling on his shirt and letterman jacket, red in an obnoxious way that made his eyes pop. He fell in step beside Beckett, the two walking in a tense silence as they headed back towards the building.

“I really am sorry.” Reese spoke up softly. “I wasn’t thinking, I forgot about practice, but I thought it’d be fast enough that you wouldn’t notice. I should have texted you earlier.”

“Yeah, I get it, you’re too busy.” Beckett shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal.

“No, that’s no excuse.” Reese said firmly. “Your time is just as important as mine, and I wasted it. I need to make it up to you. Do you like coffee? I can take you out sometime.”

“What, like a date?” Beckett teased, trying to keep his tone light and not as hopeful as his traitorous heart would believe. “If you wanted to get into my pants you could’ve just said so.”

Now that was the wrong thing to say to your growing crush. Even worse was the way Reese froze up, his face turning brighter than a cherry tomato.

“No, that’s not-!” Reese stammered, looking offended, and Beckett’s heart plummeted at the thought of being rejected even in a joke. “I would never be so crass, or forward, especially without- I mean, your intentions are important too, I wouldn’t just force myself on you like that, I was trying to be a gentleman about it-“

“Wait, what?” Now it was Beckett’s turn to blush tomato red. “Are you- you’re serious? About the pants stuff?”

“NO!” Reese’s shriek of indignation was so high-pitched Beckett could have mistaken it for a girl. “Certainly not off the bat. But- the ah, the date? I mean, maybe? Oh Lin Manuel Miranda, I never even asked if you’re into guys-“

“I am.” Beckett interrupted, a bit too suddenly for his own good. “Into you, too.” Was this a joke? Was Beckett being pranked? He didn’t exactly love the idea of a bunch of popular guys deciding to gang up and craft a plot to break his heart. Still, even as his anxiety tried to suggest such a nefarious scheme, Beckett couldn’t picture Reese being part of it, especially as the thespian had been reduced to a blushing, stammering mess at Beckett’s feet.

“Maybe…” Beckett swallowed, hoping he was making the right decision here. Good lord Romance was not his department. “Ugh, this is just… let’s start with coffee, okay?”

Reese visibly relaxed, as though a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Coffee it is.”

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So, they had started with coffee dates.

And then coffee dates turned into regular dates.

And then came the hand holding, the soft kisses, and then… more.

Beckett wasn’t actually sure if Reese was his boyfriend, but there certainly should be a shorter title than Lab Partner who Occasionally Disappears Into the Back Room With Me For Super Hot Make Out Sessions.

Unfortunately, the privacy of the back room came with the unspoken caveat that while Beckett had access, it was truly his father’s prep room, and it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

“You know, while I did express that I wanted you two to grow closer as individuals, this is a bit closer than I anticipated.” Flint deadpanned, flicking on the light.

“Dad!” Beckett frantically shoved away from Reese, trying in vain to disguise the fact that moments ago his hands were wandering beneath the jock’s shirt while Reese ran his fingers through Beckett’s hair. (Beckett was pleased to note Reese’s chest felt as good as he imagined ever since that football practice).

“Professor Flint!” Reese said hastily, his face ashen as he looked like a frightened doe. Goodness gracious did Beckett just want to kiss that adorable look off his face. It was a pity his gay thoughts would not assist the situation at hand.

“Reese. Beckett.” Flint’s tone was eerily calm, the kind of scary dad tone that indicated he was about two seconds from blowing up. The teacher took in a long, tense breath, seeming to be calculating something in his mind. “I think you should both count yourselves grateful that I have discovered you on school property, and thus have an obligation to follow the necessary procedures.”

Uh oh. Beckett was tense, stepping forward to follow his father as he gave a wave of his hand. Reese moved to follow too, Flint pushing the high schoolers apart so that they stood on either side of him and had a few feet of separation.

“Where are we going?” Reese asked timidly, more nervous than Beckett usually heard him.

“The guidance counselor.” Flint’s tone was clipped now, clearly more annoyed at Reese considering he was the one discovered making out with Flint’s son. “You both have behaved wildly inappropriately.”

Reese and Beckett exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing: We’re screwed.

Flint raised his knuckles, raping on the hardwood door. There was a pleasant “Come in!” spoken from inside, and Flint’s posture seemed to relax somewhat as he opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Lev.” Flint smiled, and Beckett found it strange to see his father acting so laid back in his greeting. Beckett didn’t know his dad even knew the counselor. Did they talk behind his back?

“Oh, heya Flint!” Lev, the guidance counselor, greeted him in turn. “Nice to see you too, Beckett. And who’s this young man?”

“This is Reese.” Beckett jerked his thumb towards the guy he makes out with sometimes.

“How do you know Beckett?” Reese blurted.

“Oh, he comes in here all the time.” Lev explained with a wave of his hand. “I love having him as company.”

Beckett shuffled his feet. “Lev helps with my anxiety.”

“Be that as it may, I think it will be more beneficial to get to the matter at hand.” Flint remained standing, watching the boys sit like two properly scolded school children. The analogy was quite accurate. “I have just apprehended these two boys engaging in… suggestive acts within my lab prep room.” Lev stifled a giggle, causing Flint to frown. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry Flinty, I know this is serious.” Lev put on his serious face, making Flint’s lip twitch up. “Now boys, care to explain your side of the story?”

“No.” Beckett answered honestly, shrinking in on himself as he tucked his knees up to his chest.

Reese sent him a glare, which clearly was meant to say ‘Don’t you dare abandon me now, you traitor.’

“Ah…that would be an accurate description.” Reese conceded. “Beckett and I thought the privacy was, um, ideal, for… kissing.”

“Just kissing?” Lev clarified, immediately making everyone else in the room twice as uncomfortable.

“Yes, just- just kissing.” Reese looked ready to spontaneously combust. “With some touching, but clothed, and-“

“I do believe we have an accurate image of the event.” Flint raised his voice, cutting Reese off before the image could get more engrained into the poor father’s head.

“Yes, agreed.” Lev nodded. “Boys, I think you’re both smart enough to know that acts of PDA are not allowed on school grounds, especially to that extreme. Save it for when you get home.”

“Or not at all.” Flint couldn’t help but tack on. Beckett rolled his eyes, but this seemed to be a very poor choice as Flint gave him the dad glare. “Do you disagree, young man?”

“…no sir.” Beckett winced, his eyes soon staring down at his lap.

“With all due respect, I do disagree.” Reese spoke up, and Beckett’s eyes snapped to him instead. The jock had puffed out his chest, clearly acting with a confidence he didn’t fully possess. “I think I have a right to physically show my appreciation for my wonderful boyfriend, in moderation.”

Boyfriend. He said boyfriend. Beckett couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. His now-boyfriend was such an idiot, and Beckett loved him so much. Hopefully he wasn’t about to die by his father’s wrath.

The room was unbelievably tense, Reese and Flint caught in a staring match. Flint was cold and unyielding, while Reese was firm but polite. Jeez, what had Beckett ever done to deserve such a gentleman to stand up for him like that? Even if it was about something as trivial as steamy make out sessions, Beckett couldn’t help but feel his heart swell.

“They’re just kids, Flint.” Lev spoke up softly, going over to put a hand on Flint’s arm. Flint broke away from the staring match, looking into Lev’s eyes with an unreadable expression.

Lev turned back to the boys, giving them a small smile. “Now, since this is your first offence, only a verbal warning is required, so don’t let the two of us catch you making out in any more closets.”

“Yes sir.” Both boys spoke in unison, the tips of their ears turning red in embarrassment.

“Reese, I do believe the two of us will need to have a chat, off school grounds, about the nature of your relationship with my son.” Flint spoke up, in full dad mode.

Reese gulped, giving a stiff nod as now he was properly shamed. “Understood, sir.”

“Well, sounds like everything is working itself out!” Lev clapped his hands happily. “You boys are excused, have fun you too.”

“We will!” Reese assured him, flinching at Flint’s gaze. “Ah, an appropriate amount.”

Beckett hurried out the door after him, nearly missing the way Lev was asking Flint to grab coffee with him. Wait, was that a coffee date? Beckett definitely needed more details about that later. In the meantime, though, Beckett had a super hot idiot to thank for defending his honor.

Beckett fell into step beside Reese, slipping his fingers between his boyfriend’s and leaning close to whisper in the thespian’s ear. “Want to get off school property?”

“Sweet mother of pearl, yes.” Reese said breathlessly, the two racing each other to the door.

#ask-villegas-sides #eat-moar-veggis #commissions #commission #writing #writing commissions #reese #beckett #lev #flint

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