Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

January

Simon didn’t deserve this in his opinion. 

This was all Luke’s fault. Or rather Principal Garroway’s fault. It was because of him that Simon became a teacher in the first place, came to this school in the first place. After years of convincing Simon decided Luke was right and got his teaching certification, suffered through the classes and first job, took this one, and finally ended up under Luke’s thumb.

Now he was teaching AP Calc to high schoolers wondering why he ever came back..

He’s pretty sure the only people who like him at the school are his students. Instead he finds the faculty to hate him and it sucks because he thought working with his best friend would be the best thing ever. Instead he finds himself being the unwanted color of Skittle or Starburst with the pack. Which he gets, everyone in the group is so beautiful and smart and respected, not to mention a tight knitted family.

Clary had befriended an English teacher when Simon took the job. Jace Lightwood. He could quote seemingly everything without looking at Sparknotes, tall, gorgeous, and knew it too. Simon found him to be arrogant at first only to figure out it was just how the guy coped. He vowed to hate him after he had made Clary cry, but when everything smoothed out he found peace with the guy. They became friends. For the most part.

Then there was Alec. Simon had met him in the summer before his first year when Luke was giving him the tour of the campus.

“Alec!” Luke had called when they were coming back to Luke’s office for paperwork. “This is Simon Lewis, the new teacher I was telling you about.”

Simon had held out his hand, smiling up at the other man, taking in his dark hair and annoyed face. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes,” Alec had said, giving Simon’s hand a curt shake, “don’t do anything until the head of your department has a meeting with you. Don’t be late and don’t do anything stupid now that your name is tied to this school.”

Simon blinked as Alec had stared at him, eyes narrowing. He brushed passed him, making Simon stumble backwards. “I left it on your desk, Luke,” Alec said as he walked out. Simon had looked back at Luke who just shrugged.

“He’ll warm up to you. He takes his job very seriously.”

“VP?” Simon asked.

“Dean of Students.”

Alec still hadn’t warmed up to him. He was nicer, sure, but Simon knew it was because he’d never been late or unprepared to a meeting since he started working there. He also suspected it was because of Clary after the Christmas party two years ago.

Izzy, their sister, was the nicest to him. She was beautiful, smart, funny, deserved nothing less than the Sun itself but settled for coaching in high school. He likes her the best of the three siblings and she knows it. Not that he ever thought he would have a chance. She and Izzy had been dating since the second semester of Simon’s first year of teaching. They were a power couple and Simon’s role models for what a relationship should look like.

Lydia Branwell, a Government teacher who took a liking to Simon after the second year he had started working there. They had stuck together at a staff Christmas party when Clary and Izzy had ducked out early. They ended up getting along really well and became good friends. Simon appreciated her driven and sometimes harsh personality. She’d been through a lot of shit, from what she had told him, and she still turned out to be a good teacher and nice human being.

There was Magnus Bane, the AP Chemistry teacher who is so apathetic to Simon he doesn’t even bother remembering his name half the time, reverting to a simple, ‘You. In the glasses.’ He’s always dressed in something amazing, and has a viral-video for his showy experiments/demos that put magicians to shame.

He and Alec finally started dating at the beginning of first semester. Simon had even gotten frustrated with them and had been as happy as the rest of the group when Alec kissed Magnus at the HomeComing pep-rally in front of everyone and their mother.

It had been a whole fiasco, Alec was worried he was going to get fired and there had been several phone calls from parents but Luke stood his ground and everyone backed off three hours into the whole thing. Not to mention the kids had backed them through and through after having to bare witness to their stupidity, too.

And then there was Simon who was still called the ‘nerd’ or ‘over-achiever’ by the rest of the staff for not letting himself be later than three days on grading papers and staying an hour before and after school everyday for tutorials, even when no one showed up. They told him he puts too much effort in for public school, but he had yet to have a kid fail the AP test or course. He also found the students to trust him more. Hell, during his AP tutorials kids from other teachers came to him instead.

He loved his job, in all reality. He liked math for the universal language it was and he liked teaching others how to understand and use the jumble of signs the human race put meaning to. It felt good to see a struggling kid finally get their lightbulb moment in class or see grades pull themselves up. Simon knew high school sucked, he’d been there not too long ago. He wanted to be the teacher who worked with his kids and not against them like most of his had. Sitting in a desk for seven hours straight doing nothing but work is hard on a student, he was just trying to make his hour with them the best he could with what he was given.

But getting his classroom moved was uncalled for.

It wasn’t even in the same building anymore. Now he was located in the Language Arts and History building instead of where he belonged in the Maths and Sciences. It made no sense to anyone but Luke, apparently.

Simon sighed as he flipped on the light switch to the room. Two weeks of Winter Vacation and he had to spend his last few days packing up his room and moving into another. It had previously been a computer lab, but that was being switched with his own room for the sizing. More kids were trying to get into his classes and his room had been big enough to fit 30 without being too much of a fire hazard. So, Luke moved him saying that next year more kids could get him for a teacher. Why he hadn’t let it wait for Summer Vacation was lost on Simon, but Luke would only listen to so much of his complaining.

It felt so empty without the student desks filling up the majority of the room. All the computers and tables had been removed and placed into his old classroom. His desk and computer were the only things sitting on the floor besides leftover garbage. There wasn’t even a garbage bin to throw it away in. The walls were barren and white. A counter lined the right wall of the room with cabinets underneath. The doors were all slightly ajar and the insides were cleaned out.

Across the hall from him was a Spanish room, to the right was an English room, the left was a hallway, and behind him was a History classroom. There was a door that connected the two rooms with a small window that took up about 1/4th the top half of the door. Luke hadn’t told him who it belonged to but insisted that the teacher wouldn’t mind and if they did they could just cover the window to avoid conflict.

Simon walked the length of the room to his lonely desk and dropped the box of his stuff off. He rounded his desk and started putting things away in their rightful drawers and places on his desk.

He took several trips back and forth across campus carting books and files and papers. It was still dead ass cold outside and he’d forgotten his gloves at home. But soon enough the cabinets were filled and he had his projector setup and connected with the ELMO. He stole a few packs of Expo markers for the new white board and had started to put his Star Wars posters back up so they wouldn’t crease in the move. He put his bass, that he usually played when he was bored or the class was in need of a pick-me-up, behind his desk and out of the way.

After a couple of hours he took a seat in his chair and looked at his work. The room still looked empty but he figured it was because it was just bigger than he was use to and without the desks taking up all the room of course it would feel empty.

The sound of a door opening made Simon jump a foot in his chair. He swiveled to find a man standing within the connecting door.

“Holy shit,” Simon breathed, reaching a hand up to clutch his chest while his breath returned to him. When he settled Simon pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and focused on the guy. Raphael Santiago, famous History teacher at the school that was known for recalling the assigned textbooks because he disagreed with three of the chapters.

Simon had only spoken to him once before avoiding him at all costs. It had been ten minutes into his first day and he had managed to spill coffee all over the man’s jacket. He had been caught off guard by this good looking man and his eyebrows and the hot liquid of the coffee. Raphael had yelled at him in Spanish for what Simon could only assume was curses and stalked out of the teacher’s lounge. Simon had placed a written note and the $50 dollars his sister had gifted him for his birthday in an envelope in the man’s mailbox in the front office. That had been the extent of their communication and Simon thought himself lucky to be alive.

“What are you doing?” Raphael asked.

“I was just-,” Simon looked around the room, “..moving in.”

“Moving in? This is a computer lab.”

“Yes, but they switched my room and the computer lab.”

“Aren’t you a math teacher?”

“Yes,” Simon nodded, feeling the edge of a smile for being recognized for what seemed like the first time in his life. It quickly disappeared at Raphael’s scowl.

“Why did they move you to this building?”

“I asked the same question, and got no reply,” Simon shrugged. He pointed to the wall behind him. “Is that your room?”

“Yes,” Raphael sighed, casting his eyes downwards. He turned his head towards the front wall. “And so is the room across the hall.”

“Oh,” Simon blinked. “You teach Spanish.”

“Yes.”

“That’s cool.”

Simon smiled back at Raphael but only got a blank stare in return. He took a moment, thinking over their exchange as Raphael stared at him some more, an expectant look taking over his features.

“I guess you took a shortcut from your room through the computer lab, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You still can,” Simon blurted. “I mean, not through the computer lab, obviously, because it isn’t here anymore. But I’ll leave that door unlocked so you can walk through it anytime you want to, I won’t mind. At all. Just use it like you always have, like nothing has changed. Except the lack of computers, of course-”

“Thank you. I won’t disturb your classes,” Raphael said, turning back to his classroom. Simon only nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth again. When the door was shut behind Raphael Simon scrambled to gather his things.

On his way to the parking lot he wondered what the other teacher had been doing there during the break. Simon shook his head, brushing it off. He’d probably just forgotten something or needed something from his computer at school.

--

The first day back was just like the first day of school. Every class period students were late, coming in a couple minutes after the bell in packs of kids who had banded together to figure out the mystery of their missing class room. Even after he sent out the reminder text and email, placed a sign on the door, and made sure it was in the school’s morning announcements. There were the select few that got the memo, but the majority came in looking confused and upset.

“I know, I’m not happy about it either,” he told them. “But what’s done is done. We’ll get use to it.”

After third period the door behind his desk opened. Raphael Santiago strode passed him, obviously trying not to make eye contact with Simon as he kept his eyes on the open folder in his hands. He moved gracefully, not tripping over a desk or anything at all and opening the door as if his eyes weren’t otherwise occupied. The door shut behind him and Simon let out his breath into the empty classroom.

His lunch was a longer walk, but thankfully the same. Clary and Izzy were waiting for him at their usual table.

“How’s your new room?” Clary asked when he fell into his chair.

“It’s bigger. None of the kids can find it,” Simon said, “and it’s got a connecting door with Raphael Santiago who hates me and uses it to get to his Spanish classroom.”

“Raphael, huh,” Izzy said, looking up from her food. “He and Magnus are good friends.”

“Really?” Clary asked, her eyebrows raising. “I wouldn’t take Magnus the type to befriend someone so...so…”

“Grumpy?” Simon supplied.

“They were friends before they started teaching, like you two. Alec said they went through a lot of stuff together in the past, he didn’t give me the details, but I know it has something to do with a girl.”

“As in, they fought over her or something?” Clary asked, lowering her voice.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m almost positive Magnus was the one dating her and she tried to snub Raphael out of the picture,” Izzy explained.

“For someone who doesn’t know the details,” Simon said, “you sure know the details.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“How do you know he hates you?” Clary cut in, turning back to Simon.

“I spilled coffee all over his jacket on my first day,” Simon said, averting eye contact as he felt his cheeks grow warm. There was a beat before Izzy started laughing full force. Simon and Clary exchanged a look of confusion.

“That was you!” Izzy said after she caught her breath back. Simon shrunk in his seat. “Raphael was complaining to Magnus a couple of weeks ago about a jacket ruined by some math teacher. I never knew it was you!”

“Great,” Simon said as he slumped back into his seat, throwing his hands in the air. “He remembers me! I knew he hated me.”

“Oh, no,” Izzy shook her head. “He doesn’t hate you. He saves that for few people. I’m sure he just dislikes you.”

“Thank you,” Simon scoffed, “you make me feel so much better, Izzy.”

--

It went on for a couple of weeks like that, Raphael coming and going without so much as making eye contact with Simon.

A few times Simon had been walking around his classroom while he talked about the lesson, just to stretch his legs and not feel awkward standing in the front of the class the whole time, he would see the other through the window the the door. Raphael always looked engaged in what he was teaching, and once he caught Simon’s gaze and held it. Simon was the one to break it at the movement of a raised hand from the corner of his eye catching his attention, and when he looked back Raphael was gone from the window’s view.

One day after school Simon was grading papers, a homework assignment he hadn’t wanted to take for a grade since it was their first worksheet on the unit but the other teachers insisted, the door opened. He looked up to the front of the room, half expecting it to be a student coming for tutorials or Clary to drag him home. Instead the movement came from beside him, the door to the hallway still shut.

Simon turned to find Raphael standing halfway in between his desk and the door that connected their rooms. He felt the pen slip from his grasp.

“Hello,” Simon said, coughing at the sound of his voice.

“Do you have the schedule for tomorrow? I wasn’t forwarded the email.”

Straight to the point then. Simon hummed as he thought and turned back to his computer.

“For the junior’s assembly thing?” Simon asked as he went to his email, scrolling through the endless inbox of his.

“Yes.”

“I did,” he said slowly, opening the email with the poster attachment. “Do you want me to send it to you? I could just print it out right now?”

“That would be good, thank you,” Raphael nodded. Simon paused for a moment, unsure as to which one he was referring to. He went to print it out, figuring he had a fifty-fifty chance of getting the man what he wanted. The silence was awkward and made Simon stumble through the steps to printing, which is not hard at all he just cracks under pressure when scary people he’s trying to please are in the same vicinity of himself.

The printer thankfully came to life and printed it within a matter of seconds. Simon pulled the page off, scanned over it quickly, and handed it to Raphael with a smile.

“Thank you,” Raphael said, taking it from Simon. His eyes roamed over the page as Simon’s had, checking for any errors, and returned to Simon’s face. The awkwardness didn’t leave.

“Uh, no problem,” Simon nodded, “anytime. Just...pop on over. I’ve got plenty of ink.”

Raphael turned and went back into his classroom.

“I’ve got plenty of ink,” Simon repeated, smacking himself in the forehead.

--

Clary sat on the edge of his desk, her legs swinging back and forth as she talked about her romantic date with Izzy that weekend. Simon nodded along as he quietly typed out replies to emails. It was after school and Simon had promised to go with Clary to visit her mother and Luke that afternoon for dinner.

“I’m surprised you two weren’t attacked by ants by how sweet all this sounds,” Simon teased, glancing over at Clary who was still all grins and twinkly eyed.

“Shut up, Simon,” she said with no malice in her voice. She turned her head to look a the conjoining door. “How’s ol’ grumpy pants?”

“Raphael?” Simon asked, lowering his voice. “He’s been quiet, but now he at least acknowledges me when he passes by.”

“What do you mean?”

“He looks at me.”

“Oh wow,” Clary smirked, eyebrows raising on her forehead. “You two must becoming fast friends.”

Simon rolled his eyes and pushed away from his desk. “Whatever, smart ass, let’s go.”

February

“It’s too cold for this,” Simon said, rubbing his gloved hands against one another in some wasted attempt to bring feeling back into his fingers. “Why can’t we just sit inside like regular people?”

He heard a dramatic sigh come from beside him. Turning he found both Clary and Izzy glaring at him. Simon shrugged in return, putting his hands into his armpits. “I’m just saying.”

“I know, Simon, you’ve been ‘just saying’ that for the past half hour,” Clary said.

“And we’ve been ‘just saying’ that you can leave any time you want,” Izzy added.

“No, no,” Simon shook his head. “You guys invited me out here to watch the snow fall. I’ll stay with you.” The three were sitting on a park bench that overlooked a large park. Kids were building snowmen in the field and sledding from a hill.

“Good-”

“Not that we couldn’t be doing this from indoors. By a fire. With hot-”

“Simon!”

“I’m kidding! I love snow!” He rubbed the snow from his glasses on his jacket shoulder. “And it’s actually peaceful here. All the kids on my street are having a giant snowball fight. I would watch, but they’ve have really taken those things to an art. I saw them using walkie-talkies and I thought I saw one holding up a map of the neighborhood.”

“We use to have snowball fights,” Izzy said. Simon turned to find her smiling, a fond curve of lips that showed she was thinking of something particular. “Jace would always make them really compact and get in trouble when we came back inside with bruises. I always made the perfect forts.”

Clary laughed at that, pulling Izzy’s hand into both of her own. Simon looked away, knowing he shouldn’t be intruding on their moment.

“Actually,” Simon said, standing, “I think I am gunna go.”

“But you just-”

“I know,” he smiled, sharing a knowing look with Izzy, “but it’s really cold. You two have fun. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Call me. And watch out for ice!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said over his shoulder as he walked across the snow that sounded with satisfying crunches as he went.

He could have been driving home with some semi-working heating but Clary had insisted that they all walk to the park from their apartment. Simon had driven over earlier that day when she had called him asking if he wanted to bake cinnamon rolls with her. It had been a tradition they shared on every snow-day they’d had. Not that snow on a Saturday was a snow-day, but he had figured it was close enough.

His teeth chattered, his toes felt like they were going to fall off, and he couldn’t stop shivering. He’d dressed for going from a car to the indoors, not to be spending an hour and a half outside in the snow were the chill was relentless to any amount of clothing until it sunk into your bones. Simon huffed a hot breath that twisted and congealed in front of him as he trudged back to his car.

They lived closer to the downtown area, which was convenient and problematic all at once. It was a longer drive to school, but it came with the perks of a populated area and stuff to do. Not that Simon would have given up his lonely suburban life.

The smell of baked bread and warm coffee filled his lungs and lingered in his throat as he passed by a bakery across the street from him. The place looked warm and inviting. He tried to swallow and move on, knowing he should get home to write two more recommendation letters, but the aroma stuck to the back of his mouth making it water and drive the thought of something warm in his stomach all the farther.

After all he’d only gotten to eat one cinnamon roll earlier.

Simon looked both ways before making his way across the street and into the bakery.

“Brave wanderer,” the man behind the counter greeted. He had tanned skin with freckles spread over every inch of what Simon could see. All across his face, neck, and down his arms. He was older, had a warm smile that reflected the vibe of the shop, and light brown hair. He wore an apron and a plain white shirt. Simon was still thawing, but he could imagine the ovens would be warm enough.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Simon laughed, and stepped closer to the counter.

“What can I get you?” he asked, a slight accent hitting Simon. He couldn’t place what it was.

“Uh,” Simon shrugged, looking back up at the man. “I dunno. Something warm.”

“Something warm,” the man repeated with a nod. “I just got some croissants out of the oven?”

“I’ll take two. And some coffee,” Simon said prying off his glove to reach for his wallet.

“I’ll be right back.”

Simon nodded and tugged at a finger with his teeth, freeing his hand. The door chime rang, he looked up.

Raphael Santiago strolled in looking as if there wasn’t inches of snow falling from the sky. Sure he was dressed for the weather, and to a T, but he wasn’t shivering and his hands weren’t in his pockets. He didn’t even have a hat on to cover his ears and he looked great. There was snow powdering his hair and it still looked perfect.

Simon sighed through his nose.

“Hey,” he smiled when Raphael stopped to stare at him.

“What are you doing here?” Raphael asked, his eyes narrowing. Simon loved being judged and feeling self conscious. Really, it’s what got him out of bed in the morning.

“I was just walking by and wanted something warm,” Simon said, motioning to the windows. “It’s snowing.”
Raphael kept starring.

“Here you are,” the man with the accent said.

“Oh, thank god,” Simon blurted, “I mean, thank you.”

He fumbled for the money, but he eventually paid the man. He even threw what he had left in the tip jar. Simon looked down at the cup of coffee and swallowed.

“Raphael!” the man with the accent said, throwing his arms up. “I didn’t expect to see you today of all days!”

Simon, very very carefully, picked up the cup of coffee and didn’t turn to face Raphael. Instead he walked sideways, shielding the cup with himself, and towards a small table where sugar and milk were situated with napkins and cutlery. He let out a breath when he set the cup on the counter.

“What made you think that?” he heard Raphael say, his voice quiet compared to the man behind the counter.

“It’s snowing terribly out there,” the man said, not matching Raphael’s volume in the slightest.

“I like your coffee,” Raphael mumbled. Simon looked down at his cup of coffee and furrowed his brow at it.

“So you have proven. I’ll get you a cup.”

Simon heard footsteps and then felt the burning glare of a pair of eyes on his back. He quickly shoved his glove back on his hand, grabbed his bag, and moved towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going!”

Simon looked back at the man behind the counter. Both he and Raphael were looking at Simon. He motioned to the exit, “To my car.”

“No, no, you cannot bring those out there. They will become cold by the time you get to where you are going. Sit. Enjoy yourself.”

“But I was-”

“Sit!”

Simon deflated.

He sat down hard at one of the small tables littered around the shop and pulled both his gloves off, shoving them into one of his pockets. Simon could see Raphael and the man behind the counter talking about something, the man using a lot of hand gestures while Raphael looked like a plank of wood. Deciding to ignore them, Simon moved onto his coffee and food.

The croissant was better than Simon had expected. He had a mouth full of flaky, buttery bread in his mouth when Raphael plopped into the seat across the table from him. Simon froze mid-chew. He glanced back at the man behind the counter who was retreating back into his kitchen. Raphael was scowling out the window and Simon wondered what he did to deserve this.

He continued chewing, much slower.

“So,” Simon said once he had swallowed, “what’s up?”

He flinched when Raphael turned and pinned him down with a hard glare.

“Why are you here?” Raphael asked. Simon shrugged.

“Didn’t I already answer that?”

“Yes, but why are you here?”

“Oh,” Simon pulled the warm cup between his two hands, “well you’ll have to take that up with my mother.”

Raphael grumbled something in Spanish and brought his own cup of coffee to his lips. Simon couldn’t help but watch Raphael’s Adam’s Apple work behind his coat collar. He blinked and forced his eyes down at the table.

“Do you live over here?” Raphael asked, his tone less clipped than before. Simon looked up slowly.

“No, Clary and Izzy do. They invited me over, but I figured out I was third wheeling about half an hour into it,” Simon said, bringing his cup to his lips now. He sputtered and swallowed, the liquid burning his throat down to his stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s hot!” Simon said, pulling off a piece of croissant to stick in his mouth. It soothed the top of his mouth. “How the hell did you drink that with a straight face?”

Raphael just shrugged and took another long drink of his coffee. Simon knew he was mocking him, and was a bit taken aback by the playful teasing the other man was giving off. It was...different.

“Any reason you’re sitting here talking to me?” Simon asked. “Not that I mind or anything. I was just...wondering.”

“Miles made me.”

“That’s what every girl wants to here,” Simon sighed. “Who’s Miles?”

“The owner,” Raphael said, pointing to the kitchen. “I told him we work together.”

“Right. Well, thank you.”

“For?”

“Sitting with me.”

They sat there for another half an hour talking about the school, about work, about the weather. It wasn’t anything terribly groundbreaking or thought provoking, just nice. Even if Raphael didn’t understand half of the references Simon made or laugh at any of his humor.

--

Getting to school the next Monday was hell. The roads had been cleared and had that salty-sandy mixture but that didn’t stop people from crashing into one another and making the roads a living nightmare, even at the earlier time when he left. His room was almost the same temperature as it was outside when he walked in that morning. Sadly there was nothing he could do about it except complain to Luke, because despite what the kids might think he had no control over the temperature.

“Hey, Lewis, I was-whoa,” Simon looked up to find Raphael looking into his room with a confused look.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Simon said, showing his gloved hands to the other teacher. “And they probably won’t even fix it by today. Tomorrow it’ll feel like a sauna in here. I don’t know what to do.”

“Right,” Raphael pulled the door back, “nevermind.”

--

Valentine’s Day had been one of Simon’s least favorite days when he had been in high school. He always felt like Charlie Brown when Clary would get at least 15 cards and he would only get the one from her. He hated having to step over the enormous stuffed animals the girls would carry around and he hated the looks of pity.
Being a teacher in high school during Valentine’s Day, he found, wasn’t much different. Everyone would put Valentines in their staff mailboxes. From all the years he had been working at the school he only ever got the three Valentines from his friends. Lydia, Clary, and Izzy. He hadn’t found a reason to be sad about it, having smiled every time he saw their cards sitting in his mailbox, until another Calculus teacher had called him pathetic. He’d tried to be the bigger person, but he couldn’t help the sting he felt at the comment.

Not to mention every year when his students suddenly became fascinated with his love life.

“Come on Mr. Lewis!” Leigh Conners from his first period insisted. “You can’t be real.”

“I’m very real,” Simon smiled. They hadn’t done anything that day, the department knowing that the kids wouldn’t be paying much attention that day. It had been a fun activity with candy.

“But you’re so...so,” Leigh winced. “Nice.”

“Good one,” Thomas Keys said. “She meant to say, you’re not a bad looking guy, Mr. Lewis.”

“No comment,” Simon responded, ducking his head.

A conversation similar to that happened in every class period. Each making Simon feel equally as terrible. It wasn’t that he needed someone else to make him feel whole or happy. It was that everyone, even his students felt bad for him. Pitied him for not having someone.

And it wasn’t like Simon could just look at someone and feel something. Okay, kind of a lie since the first time he saw Izzy he thought he was having a heart attack, but not the point. Sure, there are people he finds attractive but that’s not all he wants. He didn’t fall in love with Clary just because she was pretty. They became friends, they became close. There was a connection. A belonging. Simon wishes he could feel like that for someone else and that someone would feel similarly for him. And not because they have to, but because they want to.

He hates thinking about it. About how his mother will text him or his sister will call him, how Izzy and Clary will insist on him coming over and he’ll decline because he knows better. It’s like being suffocated by niceness and he knows they’re only trying to help. He just can’t help but have a bitter taste in his mouth on Valentine’s Day.
When he got to his mailbox after lunch that day, still trying to regain feeling in his fingers from the unforgiving winds outside, there’s an envelope with hand writing he doesn’t recognize that spells out his name. It surprises Simon, making him ponder silently if there’s another Simon Lewis who teaches at the school before taking everything and hiking back to his classroom before the ladies at the front desk can question him.

He opened it as soon as he can sit in his desk, setting everything else to the side. He went slowly, almost scared some terrible prank is awaiting him. But there’s nothing except a simple white card with a gold heart on the front with a white cursive, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’ The inside only has the same scrawl as the envelope, ‘Have a good day.’ He turned it to the back. There was no signature. No nothing.

Simon stared at it until the bell rang for the next class. He put the card back in the envelope and in the top drawer of his desk. 

--

Simon jerked awake at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He blinked, his vision fuzzy. He fixed the position of his glasses and found Raphael looking down at him.

“You fell asleep,” he said, taking a step back from Simon.

“Oh,” Simon pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. “Right. Thank you.”

“Do you not sleep?”

“Of course I do,” Simon said, stretching his back. “I just had a late night last night. The department decided to make this unit’s test longer than normal. I had a lot of papers to get through.”

“Why didn’t you just hold off until today to grade them?”

“That would have been four days, I always post grades in three days or less, and for tests I just show them their raw scores before we get all the make ups in to see if we need to curve it or something, then I hand back the actual tests to go over them with the rest of the department,” he explained. “You know how it goes, the teacher-y things we do.”

“But why do you stay here so late?”

Simon looked up at the eyebrows that were furrowed at him, “I don’t understand the question?”

“You could grade the same papers from home. Why do you stay here?”

“Oh, well in case any of my students have a question and come in.”

“Even if they don’t schedule a tutorial with you?”

“Yes,” Simon said slowly. “You’re acting like that isn’t something teachers do.”

“It’s not.”

“Sure it is. Look at you, you’re here late,” Simon said, motioning to Raphael with hand movements.

“Not everyday.”

“Alright, well, I really don’t have anyone to go home to so there’s no difference between me being here and there besides the drive. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have no life besides this job?”

Silence bared down on them. They stared at one another and Simon didn’t allow himself to divert his eyes as he usually did. He kept up the eye contact as his words replayed. He cringed at himself and regretted going off like that. Where the hell had that even come from? The anger that had swelled dissipated in a matter of seconds. Guilt filled its place. Why was he angry with this man? Raphael Santiago had done nothing to him but speak to him on a few occasions and there Simon was yelling at him like he had slashed the tires on his car. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing the stress of the day had simply got to him.

“Go home,” Raphael said finally, making Simon close his mouth. Raphael Santiago turned his back on Simon and moved back into his own classroom. He didn’t slam the door behind him but the soft click was just as bad.

He was in the car when his brain threw out the question. Why was Raphael in his room in the first place?

He probably needed something, he answered himself. Like a pen or the WIFI password, maybe even passing by from his other classroom. Like the last time he had come to see Simon only this time he had run him off by oversharing.

Perfectly explainable.

--

Chapter Text

March

By the time March rolled around Simon had perfected his avoid and hide tactics. He’d managed to avoid Raphael for a good three weeks without any trouble. He suspected Raphael was doing his own little dance of avoiding Simon, too, which only helped prove to Simon that his little blow up had shoved whatever weird-awkward-wedge between them harder into the shaky ground they stood upon.

Of course Izzy had insisted that Raphael didn’t hate Simon, but Simon knew better. He’d worked in enough sandwich shops and bookstores as a teenager and college student to know that everyone is passive aggressive when it comes to their coworkers. Everyone says they don’t want to start something when something has already been cooked and cooling since the first week of working together. But no one is going to say anything outright because they work together and they already hate their job enough, why make it worse at that point. It was just how the world worked.

So Simon knew Raphael hated him. He’d seen some glimmer of hope that day in the bakery, but it had diminished quickly. And now Simon hid behind groups of students and copied one too many papers when it was the third and sixth passing periods. He’d thought about covering up the window to Raphael’s room but didn’t knowing it would only give the other teacher incentive to talk to him which is the exact thing he was trying to avoid.
By the third week he thought he had it down and was pretty proud of himself. Simon thought he would be able to make it out of this alive. Spring Break was the next week and after that it would be smooth sailing until one of them retired.

That Friday after school no one had shown up for tutorials, obviously, and Simon had finished up most of his work. He didn’t want to go home, knowing his mother would call him as soon as he walked through the door wondering if he could help her clean something since his sister was out of town on a work-trip. He loved his mother and of course he would help her scrub the kitchen tile, but it had been a long week at school. There was so much he was trying to cram in before the week break so the kids wouldn’t have to worry about anything being due or some kind of test when they came back and sue him, but he was exhausted.

Simon looked around his room, sighing when he saw nothing needed to be done. Then his eyes landed on the bass he kept behind his desk for ‘life’s teachable moments’ and times of boredom. He scooted his chair towards the stand and picked it up, plopping it in his lap and turning back to face the majority of the classroom.
It took a moment for his fingers to find themselves, but not as long as he thought. He only plucked at it at first, thinking too hard on it. Eventually he relaxed back into his chair and let himself stop thinking and mindlessly moved his hands along the neck and strings.

Simon was pulled out of himself at the sound of someone clearing their throat. The music stopped and he looked up to find the man he had been avoiding for so long standing next to his desk, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn together.

Shit, Simon thought has his stomach dropped as he stood up, shitshitshit.

“Shit,” he said aloud without meaning to, putting the bass back on its stand and flailing around, “I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, was it loud? Oh, god, you’re not-? Is a student in there? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was still-. I-”

“Stop,” Raphael said, holding a hand out to extend his annoyance. Simon shut his mouth so hard his teeth clacked against one another. “You play the bass?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I was in a band when I was younger and I-”

“What were you playing?”

“I don’t know,” Simon said honestly. “Was it loud?”

“I could hear it through the wall, yes,” Raphael answered, tucking his hand back under his arm. Simon clasped his own hands tightly together behind his back, digging his nails into his palm.

“I’m really sorry-”

“It didn’t bother me,” Raphael said. Simon felt like he had been slapped across the face with a hardback book. 

“I uh, well thank you,” Simon said, scratching the side of his head.

Raphael stood there, looking as if he wanted to say more, eyeing the bass. Simon waited, blinking at him. In the end the other teacher just went back into his own room and shut the door behind him.

Simon sat down hard in his chair and let his head fall into his hands face first. Usually he was better at talking to people. Usually Simon could nervous talk his way out of any situation by either annoying the other person to exhaustion or say something vaguely funny enough to break the sheet of awkward.

Instead he found himself cringing and suffering over every interaction he had with this man and his dumb eyebrows. It was infuriating and embarrassing and Simon Lewis was a grown-ass man who was not in high school anymore. Well, technically he was, but he was a teacher this go around not some angsty teenager being thrust into adulthood with a million other things to worry about.

He groaned before standing to start packing up for the week vacation.

--

The Wednesday after Spring Break Simon broke down on his way to school and cursed his way off the road and into a neighborhood of expensive looking houses.

Simon knew he needed a new car. He knew he needed a new car the fourth year of college. It took up too much gas, made all kinds of nerve wracking noises, stalled if the gears were changed too quickly, and didn’t have working windows. But the radio worked and he just got a new tire so he thought he was in good shape.

Until he was broken down on a side road, trying to call Luke and triple A at one time.

“Yeah, I’m probably going to need a substitute.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lewis?”

“Oh, shoot,” Simon pulled the phone from his ear and pressed another button, “Hello?’

“Simon?” Luke’s voice sounded in his ear. “What were you saying?”

“I’m probably going to need a substitute for my first period,” he said. “Maybe second.”

“Simon, school doesn’t start for another hour.”

“I know, but my car broke down.”

“Can’t someone just pick you up?”

"Well," Simon said, turning to look up the street, "I am kind near Clary-"

“Lewis!” Simon turned towards the street. A dark, sleek car was sitting there with the window rolled down and Raphael Santiago was sitting in the driver's seat staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

“My car broke down,” he said after a few seconds of trying to comprehend the question. He expected Raphael to nod and drive off. Instead the man seemed to take a survey of his car and of Simon then motioned for Simon to get in with a flick of his head and a clicking sounded, the unlocking of the doors. Simon stared openly.

“Simon? Are you there?” Luke said into his ear. Simon swallowed and took in a breath.

“Give me a second,” Simon said. He walked out onto the street and ducked down to talk through the car’s window, careful to not touch the flawless paint and wax job. “Uh, I’m going to have to wait on a tow-truck. I can’t just leave it in front of this person’s house, who would probably tow me anyways.”

Raphael nodded and pulled away and Simon watched and waited for the car to speed off down the street. Instead the brake lights turned red and the car parked next the the curb in front of Simon’s. He stayed where he was in the street until someone beeped a horn at him and brought him back to reality. He motioned his apologies, moving out of the way for the car to pass. Back on the sidewalk Simon watched Raphael’s car turn off. He brought his phone back up to his ear.

“Luke?”

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Luke asked immediately.

“No, actually,” Simon said, turning away from the road. “I got a ride.”

“Good. I’ll see you here, then,” Luke said and hung up before Simon could return the exasperated tone. He pulled the phone away from his face and pressed a button.

“Uh, sorry, hello?”

“Mr. Lewis?”

“Yes, hi, sorry, when will you be able to get to me?”

“I’ve already sent someone your location, they’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Have a nice day, Mr. Lewis.”

“You, too.” Simon hung up his second phone call and looked back to find Raphael leaning against the side of his car, arms crossed. All Simon could see was something out of an 80’s movie. Guy sitting outside with his car, waiting on the girl. Simon stuffed his phone in his pocket and slowly made his way over.

“They’ll be here in 20 minutes,” he said when he stood in front of Raphael. He nodded his acknowledgement, giving Simon another once over. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you?” Simon asked.

“I’m not as mean as every one makes me out to be, Lewis,” Raphael said, glaring at him. Simon held up his hands in surrender.

“Whoa, I never thought you were mean,” Simon said, hearing his voice go up an octave. “Maybe a little grumpy but not mean.”

“Is that why you always avoid me at staff events?”

“No,” Simon said, lowering his hands by his sides. “I, uh, well-...I just, we aren’t...uhm, You, er-”

“I what?” Raphael asked, his stupid eyebrows lifting.

“Hate me,” Simon finished. Raphael blinked at him. Once. Twice. Simon sighed. “I know I didn’t make a very good first impression and I’m very sorry about your jacket. Izzy told me you still mourn it. Which I would too, don’t get me wrong. I mean have you seen the stuff you wear? Of course you have, you own it and wear it. But it’s so nice. And you always look so nice. And that was the first day of school and I spilled coffee all over it and ruined it and now I’m next door and-”

“Lewis!” Raphael just about yelled, pulling Simon out of his ramble. “I don’t hate you.”

“What?” Simon gaped, taking a surprised step back. Raphael caught him by the elbow, pulling him out of the street and back towards the car. He let go when Simon looked down at the point of contact.

“I don’t hate you,” Raphael repeated. “If I hated you, you would know it.”

“But...but I do know it.”

“No,” Raphael said with a knowing smirk, the closest thing Simon had ever seen to a smile on the man’s face, “you don’t.”

“Even after I spilled coffee on you? And moved into your short cut? And yelled at you?”

“I’m waiting with you for a tow truck and taking you to work, aren’t I?”

Simon looked around himself, at his broken down car, at Raphael’s nice car that makes Simon wonder how he pulled that off on a teacher’s salary, and the neighborhood surrounding them. It didn’t feel like he was dreaming and he had no problem remembering how he had gotten there in the first place. He looked back at Raphael who was giving him an odd stare.

“Yeah, why are you doing that?” Simon asked. “You never answered.”

“I saw you broken down, I thought I would help you out,” Raphael said, his shoulders rose and fell. Simon shook his head.

“No,” Simon said, “this is like the fourth time we’ve ever had a conversation and one of those was you yelling at me in Spanish. Why are you doing this?”

“Can I not just do you a favor?”

“What do you want?” Simon asked suddenly, everything coming together in his mind. “Whatever it is-”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Raphael said through his teeth. He took a breath, looking away from Simon for a moment. When he returned his gaze Simon swallowed at the look on Raphael’s face. “If you don’t want my help then just say so, Lewis. I thought maybe I would help you out, but if you aren’t comfortable with that then I can go.”

Simon watched the other carefully. Narrowing his eyes. Usually, when other teachers came to him they wanted help on their taxes or were trying to get an in with Luke for one reason or another. They knew Clary wasn’t as much of a ‘pushover’ as Simon, so if they needed something they would seek him out. At first he had thought the staff were just very friendly. But then Jace had laughed at him when he was telling Clary about all the staff members greeting him and asking him for help. That’s when he was told he was simply being used, not making friends. That was also the moment Simon realized Jace was a complete dick. But he was over that.

“So...you don’t want anything from me?” Simon asked. Just for his clarification.

“No,” Raphael said.

Simon smiled.

They stood there for another fifteen minutes talking about Simon’s car, and then Raphael’s car, that he had apparently fixed up himself, until the tow truck arrived.
Simon felt a pang of guilt as he watched his car be dragged off. He’d had a lot of memories in that car and there he was just letting it go without following it. But he had to get to work and he’d see it after the school day was done. Assuming Clary or Luke would give him a ride.

The interior of Raphael’s car was even better than the outside. Simon felt out of place when he closed the door to the passenger side and clicked on his seatbelt. He tried to be as small as possible, hugging his bag to him, and tentatively putting his shoes on the mat below.

“You won’t be the two hours early you usually are,” Raphael said as he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. “But your perfect attendance record won’t be smudged.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

When they parked students were coming in waves. It was a good 15 minutes until school began. Raphael had a great parking spot, right next to their building.

“Hey, Mr. Lewis!” he heard someone call out to him when he got out of the car. He searched until he found David Graves from his fourth period waving at him. He smiled and waved back, ducking under his bag’s strap. Raphael locked the car when Simon shut his door. They walked together in silence into the building. To Simon’s surprise Raphael kept in stride with him, walking shoulder to shoulder. Simon was careful to keep the distance in order to not touch. He followed Simon to his classroom, a few of his first period students were standing around in the hallway waiting for the door to be unlocked, and parted ways when he reached for the handle to the conjoining door.

“Raphael?” Simon called over the noise of the students coming in behind them.

Raphael stopped short, hand on the doorknob, with those eyebrows raised in question. Simon smiled at the other.

“Thank you.”

And, if Simon hadn’t been there to witness it, he would have never believed what he saw next. Raphael smiled at him in return, small but bright, with a curt nod of his head before stepping into his own classroom as the ten minute bell rang in his wake.

--

He didn’t think about it until he was telling his story to Clary and Izzy at lunch.

“Well damnit,” he said, letting his fork fall from his hand. “How the hell am I going to get home?”

They both frowned.

“Oh, right,” Clary said slowly, exchanging a glance with Izzy. “I’m sorry Simon, you know one of us would take you home but-”

“But you got the Lightwood Family Dinner thing, I know, I know. Be there or be dead,” he sighed, slouching in his chair.

“Well, what about your mom or sister?” Izzy asked.

“My sister is working out of town, again, and my mother is with her friend. I was supposed to water their plants,” Simon groaned, scrubbing a hand over his forehead.

“And Luke and my mom are going on a date today,” Clary winced.

“Do you know if Lydia-?”

“She’s on a Quiz Bowl trip with the team,” Izzy shrugged.

Simon groaned louder, not caring that everyone in the room was looking at him.

“You could...always as Raphael for a ride home?” Clary said, giving a smile when Simon glared at her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, right?”

“I can’t ask him for a ride,” Simon shook his head. “No way, this morning was bad enough. No. I’ll take the bus or something.”

--

While the kids were doing their homework in his fifth period he tried to figure out the city bus schedule. For the life of him he could not figure out what line was which and which bus went where. He was about to start panicking from all the different lines and times on the screen until a student called out for him. He looked up to find Sarah Preston raising her hand.

He stood from his chair and walked over to her desk, raising his eyebrows in question. She had her phone in her hand and raised it from him to see.

“Is this you and Mr. Santiago?” she asked. Simon stepped back and squinted down at the phone.

It was obviously a picture posted to twitter, and it was in fact of him and Raphael getting out of Raphael’s car.

“Well, yes-” He started, adjusting his glasses. She pulled away her phone and giggled, the girls sitting around her either sunk into their seat or laughed with her. The rest of the class started getting louder.

“Everyone has seen that picture,” Marcus Keys said, holding up his phone from across the room to show them. “Are you two dating or what?”

“What?” Simon said.

"Mark, shut the fuck up," Nathan Daniels said, hitting his friend in the arm, "you don't just say that to teachers."

“This isn’t like Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood, is it Mr. Lewis?”

"Oh my, God," several people said, looking as embarrassed as he felt.

Simon turned his head back and forth as all the questions and comments and laughter flew throughout the room. Finally, the bell rang and the kids were out within seconds.

He collapsed into his chair and glanced at the connecting doorway.

--

Simon spent his time after school trying to find a car rental place, a nice place to sleep in his classroom, and googling how long it would take to walk to his home. He didn’t even flinch at the sound of the door opening beside him. He sighed heavily and pushed back to face Raphael.

“Something wrong?” Raphael asked. Simon shrugged.

“Know any reliable taxi services?”

“No, why?”

“I don’t have a ride home,” Simon said. “Which means I don’t have a ride back to school.”

“You didn’t rent a car?”

“No, they’re all out at my car insurance's place. Apparently there’s some convention here that-,” Simon cut himself off. “It’s not important.”

“I’ll take you home.”
Simon turned in his chair to look up at the other teacher. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t,” Raphael replied, stepping farther into Simon’s classroom and shutting the door. Simon tracked his movements as he stepped closer to where Simon sat. “Come on, where do you live?”

Simon shook his head. “No, really, it’s fine, I’ll just call a taxi and-”

“You need all the money you have to get a new car, Simon,” Raphael insisted. Simon stopped at the use of his first name, his eyes widening. “And you’re not sleeping here. You spend too much time in here as it is.”

“But-”

“Don’t make me drag you,” Raphael said making Simon glance at his ridiculously strong looking shoulders, “the kids are already talking.”

“Oh, God,” Simon covered his face with his hands. “They asked you about this morning, too?”

“They showed me the tweets,” Raphael said, something like amusement stringing through his tone. Simon peaked through his fingers to see Raphael smirking at him. “The youth are pretty clever these days.”

Simon groaned.

--

The car ride home was filled with some seriously old music and not much talking which Simon was thankful for, he’d already said enough to Raphael and he didn’t need anything else to top of this day of days. There was only his occasional direction giving and that was it. It wasn’t awkward, Simon found. He didn’t feel uneasy as he had earlier that day for some reason.

Raphael waited from him outside of the automotive shop as he got the news his car would probably never run again, got all of his stuff, and returned to the passenger seat 500% more depressed than when he had gotten out.

“I’m sorry about your car,” Raphael said when they pulled up to his house. Simon just shrugged and gathered all of his things.

“Thank you for the ride, honestly, if there’s anything you need from me, don’t hesitate to ask. You’ve been my true MVP,” Simon said.

“Do you have a ride tomorrow?” Raphael asked, seemingly ignoring Simon’s gratitude.

“I’ll figure-”

“I’ll pick you up at 8:00.”

“But-”

“See you tomorrow,” Raphael said with a finality that kept Simon from arguing. He gathered his bag and stepped out of the car. Simon glanced over his shoulder as he walked up the path to his front door. He unlocked his door and stepped inside.

When the door was shut he heard the car pull away.

--

“Sorry, Simon, I was-”

“Raphael took me home.”

“What?”

“Raphael Santiago took me home. And he’s picking me up tomorrow to go to work.”

“Really?”

“Yes! What do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Literally last week he glared at me through the door window with his eyebrows and everything.”

“Are you sure he was glaring and not just...I dunno, looking at you?”

“He was glaring. My class was being kinda loud. I think he was giving out a quiz.” Simon ran a hand through his hair and gripped a fistful at the back of his head. “What am I going to do?”

“Take the rides he offers until you get a new car?”

“You’re no help,” Simon sighed. “How was dinner with the Lightwoods and co.?”

“It was...it was something,” Clary laughed. Simon smiled. “Jace was pouting the whole time, complaining about being the only single one even though we all know he’s appreciating the single life.”

“Until he finds someone worthy,” Simon nodded. “Or they say cloning is legal.”

“Right. And the food was good. You can tell things are still pretty awkward and high strung for their parents and Alec and Magnus. His mom was a little…, but his dad seemed to get along better than usual. For Alec’s sake I hope they turn themselves around.”

“No kidding. At least he had you guys and Magnus there.”

“Yeah,” Clary said.

“Alright, I’ll let you go.”

“See you tomorrow, Simon,” Clary said. “Tell Raphael I say thank you!”

--

When 7:50 rolled around Simon was pacing in his living room, glancing out his window every now and then. When 8:00 finally came he looked up to find Raphael’s car sitting outside his house. He took a deep breath and walked towards his front door.

“Good morning,” he said when he opened the door. Raphael grunted in response. “Rough night?”

“Seat belt,” Raphael responded. They pulled away from the curb as soon as Simon clicked the seat belt into place. “And, yeah, kind of.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, frowning. “Those are the worst.”

“You said you live alone?” Raphael asked. Simon cringed. Great, he thought, he remembers that conversation, too.

“Yeah, my sister and mom use to live with me, but my sister got a job and wanted to move closer to avoid traffic and then my mom went with her. But this place is closer to the school, so I stayed.”

Raphael nodded. “My mother still lives in New York and my younger brothers have all spread out after growing up.”

“Somehow I knew you were a first born,” Simon laughed, “you live up to the personality stereotype.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know, you give off the whole self-disciplined, assertive, organized vibe,” Simon said with a shrug. “Kind of like my sister, but you know you’re more…” Raphael glanced at him sideways, “...nevermind.”

--

When the bell rang at the end of third period the door opened behind his desk and Raphael passed through it. Simon looked up from where he was putting extra worksheets away to nod at the other, Raphael nodded back at him. He went back to organizing the worksheets and looked up again, feeling something was wrong.

Raphael stood half way between his entrance and his exit, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t be the first one to speak. Simon arched an eyebrow at him.

“Raphael?”

“I can drive you until you get a new car,” Raphael said. It was blunt but his tone was soft. Simon felt something tug in his chest and sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Uh, wow, thank you, that would be amazing,” Simon said feeling a grin pull his lips upwards.

“Okay,” Raphael replied and walked off to his next class.

--

“Simon!”

He turned to find Lydia grinning at him, a huge stack of papers in her hands.

“Hey, Lydia,” he said, waving at her from behind the copy machine.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long,” she said, shaking her head and stepping forwards to the other side of the copy machine.

“It’s been a few weeks,” Simon shrugged.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “I’ve just been so busy with the team and of course the AP Exam.”

“I feel you,” Simon said with a nod “I heard you guys have gotten really far, right?”

“Yes,” she grinned, pride showing on every inch of her. “We should be going to State.”

“Should?”

Lydia sighed, her whole demeanor falling. “I don’t know if I can get enough adult volunteers to come with us, you know?”

“The parents…?”

“Only one agreed.”

“How many do you need?”

“Besides me? Five. I’ve got the parent and Alec Lightwood, but that was only because Luke made him.”

“Did you ask Izzy?”

“Yes, but she can’t come because of her own team.”

“Oh, right,” Simon nodded. “Then I guess Clary is out, too.”

“Of course, and I can only handle Jace in short spurts of time. Not for a whole weekend.”

“Well, I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” she asked, perking up. Simon nodded.

“Sure, I’d be happy to come and support the team.”

“Thank you, Simon!” Lydia said, dropping her papers on the copier and rounding it to pull him into a hug. “That means so much to me. And the kids.”

“I know, I think I have one in my fourth period, Andrea?”

“That’s her,” she said, stepping away from him and back to her papers. Simon picked up his own stack of papers. “I’ll email you everything. It’s next month, only one weekend. You'll only have to make sure the kids behave. There will be meetings.”

“Hey, I already agreed,” he smiled. "You don't have to try and sell me."

She laughed. "But, anyways, enough about me. I heard you and that Spanish teacher have gotten together? And you didn't even tell me?"

Simon almost choked on his own breath. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What's his name...," she said, "Santavigo?"

"Santiago?"

"That's it. All the kids have been talking about you, even some of my department."

Simon clapped a hand over his mouth and bit down on his cheek. 

Was the whole school talking about them?

"Oh," she said, her look embarrassed and apologetic. "I'm so sorry, I just thought-"

"No," he said, his voice airy and strained. He adjusted the papers in his arms. "it's not your fault. I gotta go."

It wasn't that Raphael was a guy and it wasn't that Raphael worked at the school and it wasn't anything to do with Simon, because hell if rumors were going around that Simon was going out with someone who looked like Raphael it only did things to boost Simon's name. 

It was that Raphael was caught in the cross fire of rumors that he was in a relationship when he was just being a nice guy carting Simon to and fro. Hell, he even helped Simon water his mother's plants one day when Simon had gotten yelled at over the phone about the Sanguinarias. Now he was a name on a rumor stuck with Simon's. It struck something in Simon, anger, guilt, and frustration welling up. And he couldn't do a thing about it, people would think what they wanted to matter what. Raphael had played it off the first day, but Simon could only imagine how he felt about it now.

He stayed up until 4:00 am that night trying to find a car.

--

Raphael was a really good driver Simon came to find out. In the beginning he was a little scared to be out and about in the type of car Raphael drove. He had always been wary of the nice looking cars that just looked like they were made to be driven by Vin Diesel and his Crew but Raphael didn’t seem to drive with the typical ego of a male in a nice-ass-car.

He never stepped on the brakes too late and used his blinker like a decent human being. He was careful but didn’t drive like a grandmother with her dog that had just gotten out of surgery. It was nice. Simon found himself looking forwards to walking out in the parking lot or stepping out his front door to get a ride from the other teacher. He enjoyed their conversations that went quickly from the typical small talk and comfortable silence to debates over books and movies or whether or not Mr. Morrison, the Biology teacher, would retire that year.

Simon found that Raphael had a sense of humor and a strong opinion when it came to course material, but then again what teacher didn’t? Simon almost had a heart attack when Raphael went on a rant about the curriculum for the Colonial era, hearing him talk for longer than one sentence at a time left Simon wide eyed. There had been a few strings of Spanish woven in seamlessly that he couldn’t make out, but it only seemed to add to his argument.

They hadn’t come close to a silent car ride in days. Simon babbled for most of it, but Raphael never told him to shut up. He just turned down the music a few notches and added his comments in after, keeping the conversation going until he dropped him off or disappeared into his classroom. A familiar want to share and listen cropped up. He found himself saving things to discuss with Raphael throughout the day.

It took a while for them to get on the level of personal thing, like family or past experiences, but when they did it went smoothly. He found himself laughing so hard he cried at some of the stories Raphael told about his brothers and mother.

It was nice. Really nice. And although he didn’t get to school as early as he liked Raphael stayed after school an extra hour for Simon without saying a word.

--

Chapter Text

April

“Are you ever going to find a car?” Raphael asked two weeks into carting Simon around to and from work.

He really needed to go to the store for groceries, there was only so much food that could be delivered, and detergent.

“I doubt it,” Simon grumbled, sinking in his seat. He felt like it had moulded to the shape of his ass by now. “Everything either has too many miles, doesn’t get good gas-milage, or is too expensive.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Crack out my bike, pump up the tires, gain an athletic ability.”

“Simon.”

“Maybe I’ll get a horse drawn buggy. That would fun. I would get a horse and name her Leia. Park her in my parking spot with some water.”

“What if it rained?”

Simon gasped. “I’d have to bring her inside. Maybe they’d let her stay in the indoor facility football and soccer uses.”

“I doubt it,” Raphael scoffed. “They barely let the players in there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, all the soccer players complain about it.”

“I guess that’s out,” Simon frowned. “I miss Leia already.”

“If you want,” Raphael said, stopping at a red light and turning to look at Simon, “I could find you a car.”

“Really? You could find a car better than the internet?” Simon asked, doubt finding its way into his tone. Raphael shook his head.

“The internet is filled with false advertising and unreliable resources because of the money used to put those car ads out there for people like you, in desperate need of a car and who are on the verge of saying yes to anything with working wheels, will fall for,” Raphael said, stepping on the gas when the light turned green once more. “I can find you a car. Just tell me what you’re looking for.”

--

“Raphael!” Simon said to catch the other teacher’s attention on his way to his Spanish classroom.

“Simon?”

“Sorry, I completely forgot to tell you this morning,” he navigated his way through the student desks to stand in front of Raphael. “I have a meeting with the  Quiz Bowl Team’s coach, Lydia Branwell?, after school today. I don’t want to ask you to stay so-”

“You’re going on the state trip, too?”

“Too?”

“I got roped into going by Magnus,” Raphael explained with a slight tint of annoyance in his tone. “Garroway told Alec he needed to go. Magnus overheard him trying to get Jace to come, jumped right in, and offered me as another volunteer.”

“Wow, good friend,” Simon said. Raphael shrugged. “So you’re going to the meeting, too?”

The front door opened, kids flowing in with the loud rush of noise from the hallway. Simon nodded.

“I guess I’ll see you then.”

--

Lydia Branwell is probably one of the most organized people Simon has ever met.

Flipping through the binder she prepared for all the chaperones only solidified this thought. There was everything in there, a budget, a timeline, a listing of all the kids on the golf team in alphabetical order with a picture of them and a little paragraph about their personality next to it, a map of the hotel, a weather report for the weekend, and everything else Simon would have never thought to include.

“I really appreciate all of you,” Lydia said after a solid hour and a half of going through her binder. “And I know the kids really do, too.”

“It’s our pleasure, Lydia,” Magnus said with a swipe of his hand. “It will be fun.”

“Yes, well, the fun will be after the tournament,” Lydia said with a hard look on her face. Simon glanced at the parent who was going with them, they were sitting there looking like Simon felt.

“Is that all?” Raphael asked, shifting in his seat like he wanted to stand.

Lydia glanced at the watch on her wrist and nodded. “Yes, thank you all for coming. I’ll see you tomorrow when we leave.”

The parents bolted first while the teachers stretched and stood to gather their things. Simon stood when Raphael did, tucking the binder under his arm while he grabbed his bag from under the table and slinging it over his shoulder.

“So, Simon,” Magnus said, catching Simon off guard enough to make him stumble while standing still,, “I’ve heard the children talking loads about you and Raphael here sharing a car. He’s yet to tell me your situation.”

“Uh, my car-”

“Ignore him,” Raphael said, stepping on the other side of Simon. He looked back and forth between the two. Magnus had a smirk on his face, clearly amused by something lost on Simon, while Raphael had a death glare prepared for him.

“Oh, Raphael, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be well informed in my closest and oldest friend’s life.”

“Magnus,” Alec said from across the table, a warning. Magnus rolled his eyes and rounded the table to step into Alec’s personal space with no resistance. Simon felt a surge of pride for Alec as he showed his affection for Magnus with minimal awkwardness in front of the small crowd of three teachers.

“I’ll call you, Raphael,” Magnus smiled making Raphael give an annoyed sound next to him. “It was good seeing you, Simon. I’m sure we’ll all have fun this weekend!”

Simon watched the pair leave out the office door, Magnus talking and smiling about something up at Alec while Alec had a fond look on his face as he lead Magnus with a hand on his back.

“At least I know three of you will behave,” Lydia said making Simon turn back to the room.

Simon laughed. “I’m sure Alec will keep Magnus buckled down.”

“If not,” Raphael said, “I’ll make sure he is.”

“Thank you,” Lydia sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment. “This is such a big deal to the kids. I just...don’t want to ruin anything for them.”

“It’ll be great, Lydia, don’t even worry about it,” Simon assured, watching some of the tension fall away from her.

--

Simon was walking back from the computer lab that had once been his own classroom, his class had a lab to do, most of the kids had called it pointless which he hadn’t exactly disputed against, but it was on the curriculum.

“Simon, wait up,” someone called from behind him. He turned to find Raphael walking towards him, a book in one hand. “How’s the computer thing going?”

“Awful,” Simon sighed, turning to walk in step when Raphael caught up to him. “It takes at least fifteen minutes to explain, it’s hard to figure out for most of the kids, which is saying something because they’re teenagers in the modern world. And I know they’re not the all knowledgeable about technology, but if they don’t understand it no one does. And by the time they finally get how to work it they only have like ten minutes to finish the whole packet. It’s been a nightmare.”

“Sorry,” Raphael said. “I hated the labs when they first came, too. But after I figured out how they worked I couldn’t imagine taking a speaking test without them.”

“Well that’s different,” Simon said. “They’re essential to the class. This thing was suppose to be n easy grade and practice that turned into a nightmare. We could have just done a normal activity in the classroom like we always do but no, we had to try something new.”

“Department ruling?”

“You betchya.”

“You said you moved classrooms because more kids want to be in your class?” Raphael asked, stepping forwards to open the door. He held it open for Simon.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, stepping through and waited for Raphael to start walking again. It was nice out that day, most of the cold weather had left and the beginnings of spring were starting up. Simon cringed at the thought of allergy season with all the tissues and sniffles. “That’s what Luke told me anyways.”

“Then if you’re the better teacher, why doesn’t your department listen to you? You’ve clearly proven that if what you say about your test scores are true.”

Simon looked at Raphael who in turn looked back at Simon. There was nothing different about him than there had been from this mornings car ride. Simon knew that, but there was something that was clutching in Simon’s chest at the sight of the sun brushing Raphael’s dark hair and breeze rustling his shirt. He swallowed and looked away.

“I don’t know,” Simon said, shrugging. There was a lapse of silence as they made their way back to their own building. “I really need a car,” Simon said, thinking aloud.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Raphael stopped walking and pulled out his phone. “I think I found you one.”

“You what?” Simon stopped too, a couple of steps in front of him. “When-?”

“I have connections,” Raphael shrugged as if that was just a casual statement everyone says every day of their lives. Simon made a face as Raphael tapped away at his phone. He finally stepped towards Simon and held out his phone. “Here.”

Simon glanced at Raphael when he raised a hand to take the phone. Raphael nodded once and Simon took the phone in both hands and squinted at the screen. There was a picture of a nice looking car looking back at him. He had never been a car guy, but what he was looking at made him want to be.

“I doubt I could afford that thing,” Simon scoffed, looking up at Raphael.

“They’re asking $5,400 for it. It’s got 37,000 miles on it and it’s only three years old.”

“Are you kidding me?” Simon looked back down at the car. “No way are they only asking $5,400. This is a joke.”

“Nope,” Raphael shook his head. “It’s been taking up too much garage space and she just wants it gone.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It’s never been in a wreck. They had bought it for their daughter, but she moved to the city and didn’t need a car.”

“Holy shit,” Simon said.

“Yes, so you might want to call them as soon as possible. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, there was a Reading Quiz today and I just-”

“Don’t worry about it! Holy shit, you found me a godsend of a car! I could hug you right now but I know we’re not there yet in our relationship but in my mind I’m hugging you.”

Raphael stared at him and Simon stared down at the picture of the car.

“Do you want to call them?” Raphael asked slowly.

“Oh, right, my bad, here,” he pressed Raphael’s phone back into his hand and scrambled to get his own out of his pocket.

He called from the car with the number Raphael gave to him. A older woman answered, and as soon as he mentioned Raphael’s name she went into full doting mother mode. Simon could only smile as she went on about the man driving next to him. He tried not to let on that he was having a conversation about him, knowing he would probably be dropped off at the nearest bus stop. She went on to talk about the car, giving the same story Raphael had and they discussed the details. Simon agreed to pick it up when he got back from the state tournament on Monday. The lady, Rosalie, thanked him and he thanked her about 100 times.

“Thank you,” Simon said when they pulled up to his house.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What are you talking about?” Simon made wild motions with his hands, “you’ve been driving me all over the place-”

“To school and back.”

“-and found me a car. She said it has cruise control and hatch back. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you,” Simon sighed, touching a hand to his forehead to keep himself from getting overwhelmed. He knew Raphael probably wouldn’t appreciate Simon’s displays of affection and gratitude.   

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“You found me a car!” Simon said. “You’re acting like this isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe not to you, Mr. Connections, but it’s a big deal to me.” Simon turned to Raphael in his seat and tried to look as serious as possible. “If you need anything, like anything at all, I’m here for you.”

Raphael stiffened at that, pushing back in his seat away from Simon. “That’s not-”

“Besides maybe murder,” Simon said as an afterthought, pulling on the handle to open the door. “But other than that, just ask.”

He shut the door before Raphael could protest. Simon smiled when he turned his back to the car.

They were friends. Total bros. Bonding over cars and their students. But Raphael had nice eyebrows and amazing hair that probably looked better without product coating it and Simon didn’t want to go back to the silence and awkward encounters. He could deal with this. He’d faced it before with Clary. He could do this.

--

He couldn’t do this.

The next morning Raphael got out of the car to help him put his bag in the trunk next to his own. It was light and had three changes of clothes inside but Raphael had held his hand out and Simon didn’t want to be ungrateful. Simon watched his back muscles move under the white button up he was sporting.

“That everything?” Raphael asked, hand on the door to the trunk. “Got toothpaste?”

“Yes,” Simon nodded. “I have deodorant, a phone charger, and my laptop, too.”

“Alright,” he said, shutting the door. “Let’s go, then.”

“Do you ever get travel woes?” Simon asked when he got into the car, eyeing Raphael. “Because I get really bad woes. Like if I left the shower running or the back window open and there will be a wasps nest in my pantry when I get home.”

“No,” Raphael said.

“Really? So you’re completely prepared for this trip? Nothing could phase you.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You’re a ‘pretty role with the punches’ kinda dude. You got that whole, ‘Don’t fuck with me,’ thing going so no one will screw you over.”

Raphael furrowed his brow at him. “Am I really that mean looking?”

“Your eyebrows give you away.” Simon said, then stuttered at the look on Raphael’s face. “Not mean though, remember? Maybe easily annoyed and rough around the edges? -but not mean.”

“Rough around the edges?”

“I just mean that you take a little while to warm up to people,” Simon shrugged. “Like me. You use to scare the shit out of me. Then I found out you’re just a giant book nerd and probably drink too much coffee. And that you still need to rewatch Star Wars because fifteen years is too long to have not seen those movies. You actually care about your students, which is hard to find these days in all honesty. And that you are fluent in Spanish. My teacher in high school looked up words in the dictionary. Rough around the edges, but kind in the middle.”

Simon sighed, settling back in his seat. Silence fell over the car and it took Simon a moment to understand why.

“Fuck,” he said, “sorry, that was way too TMI. Uh, shit. No, you’re not mean at all.”

Raphael stayed silent all the way to school. Simon felt uneasy as they parked and got out of the car. He expected Raphael to storm off, walk ahead of Simon without any more contact. Simon tried to give him the head start by pretending to fiddle with his bag, rummaging around in it like he was searching for something. But when he looked up Raphael was waiting for him.

They walked silently through the hall towards their classrooms. Raphael still followed Simon through his class but didn’t diverge to his door, instead following Simon to his desk.

“Thank you,” Raphael said, his tone was low and quiet even though the room was void of anyone else. He felt his neck and cheeks burn. He swallowed thickly and managed a nod. Raphael reached forwards, stopped, and awkwardly shuffled a file on his desk.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, averting his eyes from Simon and moving to get to his classroom.

--

Simon nodded along to whatever Clary was saying.

That had been a fluke, right? He thought as he looked down at his sandwich. Raphael had only said that to cut the tension Simon had so stupidly created by word vomiting all over him and his perfect car. There’s no possible way that he could-.

“Simon!” Izzy said, punching him in the arm.

“Ow,” he scowled, dropping his sandwich to rub at his wound. “What was that for?”

Izzy and Clary exchanged a look that Simon didn’t understand.

“We were asking about your little trip this weekend?” Izzy said, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Alec told me Raphael is going, too.”

“Yep,” Simon nodded. Clary rolled her eyes.

“And? You two have become really close, yeah?”

“He’d just been driving me. Which I feel really bad about,” Simon said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve wasted a lot of gas. I shouldn’t have...I should have taken the bus, the poor guy has been dealing with me for weeks.”

“Simon,” Clary smiled, “he can’t just be driving you because he doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I wish I had a nice car with someone who would drive me places,” Izzy said, flipping a piece of hair over her shoulder.

“Either way,” Simon said, looking back down at his sandwich. “After this trip I’m sure he’ll be happy to be rid of me.”

“Hey-”

“I should go,” he said, standing and gathering his uneaten lunch. “I have stuff to grade.”

“But Simon.”

“I’ll text you when we get there tonight,” Simon said, tucking his chair under the table and moving his legs towards the door.

He shoved his lunch back into his bag as he walked back across campus. Simon huffed his way to his door, stopping short to look over his shoulder at the classroom across from his own. The door was kicked open, which was to be expected as the days started becoming warmer and the faulty air conditioning started to become unreliable, and he got an eye full of Raphael Santiago lecturing.

He had his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows so he could write on the board, an EXPO marker in his hand as his arms moved while he spoke. The kids in the first row, the only ones he could see, had their heads down, hands writing in a blur across the page.

Simon froze when Raphael did a double take on him. His mouth stopped seemingly mid sentence which made the kids look up in confusion at their teacher. One of them followed his gaze out the door to Simon and grinned, motioning to the other students. Simon gave an awkward wave before scrambling into his room.

--

He made sure to be out of the room during sixth’s passing period and panicked all throughout seventh at the thought of spending an entire weekend with this man. When the final bell rang and all the students had deserted him he kept himself busy with emails.

Then he heard the door open behind him.

Simon turned slowly in his chair to face Raphael. He was standing with both his bag and Simon’s in either hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Simon said, standing. “I should have helped, why didn’t you-”

“It’s fine,” Raphael cut him off. He offered Simon’s bag. “Ready?”

“Uhm,” Simon took a final survey of his room. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He went back to his computer to log off and picked up his bag, shoving a folder in it, and tugged the strap over himself. Simon stepped over to take the bag from Raphael, careful not to brush fingers when he took hold of the handle.

“Alright,” Simon breathed, “let’s go win some Quiz Bowl.”

--

Thankfully Lydia made Simon sit next to her on the charter bus, so he dodged a bullet there. She fell asleep an hour on the road and Simon knew she probably hadn’t slept the past three days planning for this trip.

He texted Clary and Izzy a vague apology since they hadn’t left his phone alone since he left them hanging at lunch. Then he fell into the void of music for the remainder of the trip. Most of the students had fallen asleep after the excitement died down and everyone fell silent. It was peaceful. Watching the passing towns and people he would never meet or know go through their lives just as he was.

It took them a good three and a half hours to get to where they wanted to be. Thank you America, Simon thought, still in the same state and still so far away from home.

They all piled off the bus, complaining and stretching as they went.

He spotted Raphael standing next to Magnus and Alec, looking grumpier than usual. Simon could only imagine as to why, but the mom he had to sit next to was 99% of his guesses. Simon quickly looked away before any awkward eye contact could catch him off guard. When everyone had their luggage off the bus they thanked the bus driver and towed themselves into the hotel lobby. Lydia went off to check them in at the front desk and gather all the keys.

Simon glanced down at his phone. 7:33 pm blinked back at him. Also a text from his mother, sister, Eric, and the other 10 were Clary and Izzy. Sighing he scanned through them. They were a mixture of emojis, a good handful of, ‘SIMON! ANSWER YOUR PHONE!’, and ‘Have fun! But not TOO much fun ;).’ He could feel his cheeks warming and quickly shoved his phone into his pocket.

They were just messing with him, of course, but it still made his stomach ache. He let his head fall back against the wall he was leaning on.

Eventually Lydia came back and started handing out the keys to the kids. There were four to a room and all the groups went off the shove themselves inside an elevator. Simon winced at the sight of them juggling their bags and their clubs. Then she turned to the chaperones. She handed the card to the mom and then turned to the other four. Simon felt like he was about to have a heart attack. Why hadn’t he thought about this before just now?

Alec, Magnus, Raphael, and himself were the only ones left.

“Alright,” she said, smiling at them. “Thanks for being patient.”

“No problem at all, my dear,” Magnus smiled.

“I know this won’t be a problem for you two,” she nodded to Alec and Magnus, “but the only rooms they have left were single rooms with a queen sized bed.”

Simon choked on his own spit and tried to play it off as a cough when they all looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at Raphael. “I know that’s kinda...if you want to pay for another room I can try to get the school to cover it after-”

“No,” Raphael said. “It’ll be fine.”

Simon bit down on his cheek and nodded when Lydia looked at him in concern.

“Okay, well,” she handed the key cards to Magnus and then Raphael. “They serve breakfast from 5:00 to 9:00, but we’ll be leaving by 7:00. Make sure to check on your rooms at 9:00 tonight.”

They all headed to the elevators.

“So I’m guessing you’re staying with the mom?” Simon asked Lydia. She nodded.

“Yeah, I gave her the key to go up,” she said, “I just hope she lets me in.”

The elevator finally came and they all smushed themselves inside. Simon managed to get himself backed up in between the wall and Magnus’s giant suitcase, which didn’t make sense since it was only a two day trip. When they arrived at the floor he was the last one out of the elevator and Raphael was waiting on him. They were on the opposite end of the hall from the other adults.

He felt awkward and sweaty and anxious and just like he had on his first date that hadn’t even been a date. Simon willed his feet to move and to not look at the man next to him with his slightly mussed hair and stupid furrowed eyebrows as his eyes flicked from the key in his hand to the numbers on the doors.

They stopped at room 433 and Raphael slid the card like a credit card, the door knob blinked green, and Raphael pushed into the room.

It was an average hotel room. It smelled clean, had a funky carpet pattern, and the large windows that overlooked the parking lot outside on the far wall. It had a small desk with a coffee maker, a nice looking chair under a reading lamp, and one large bed in the middle of the room with white sheets.

Simon swallowed.

“So, uh,” Simon rubbed at the back of his neck as Raphael set his bag in the corner by the desk, “I can take the floor if you-”

“No,” Raphael said steadily.

“The chair doesn’t look that-”

“No, Simon,” Raphael said, turning to look at him with that stoic face. “You’ll sleep in the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Hey, no,” Simon slung his bag off onto the floor. “No way, buddy. I already called the floor.”

“I said-”

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, either.”

“Then I guess we’re both sleeping in the bed,” Simon said.

“I guess so,” Raphael said and Simon knew better than to argue at that point.  

The soft buzzing of a cell phone cut through the room. Raphael took out his phone and sighed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, moving towards the exit. “Magnus needs something.”

“Got a key?” Simon asked, moving out of his way. Raphael nodded. “I’ll see you later then.”

The door opened, closed, and Simon was alone.

--

‘I’ll be right back’ had been a lie Simon decided when 11:00 rolled around. He had checked on his two rooms, one was girls the other was boys, gave them all ‘good luck’s and ‘rest easy’s. Simon saw Raphael walking into a room as he was returning to theirs, but hadn’t exchanged words with him. He returned to the room and took a shower.

When he got out he got acquainted with the channels the place offered before deciding on Food Network because who wasn’t a sucker for Chopped and Ted Allen. He texted Izzy and Clary of his situation.. Only Izzy responded.

From Izzy: WOW. u’re already sleeping with him!!! Way to go Simon!

To Izzy: I’m going to die.

From Izzy: u won’t die just don’t do anything to scare him off

Simon groaned and plugged his phone in, deciding to ignore it until the morning. He nodded off after one of the chefs over turned her ice cream.

The sound of the door opening and closing with a string of whispered Spanish woke him up, but he decided to stay laying down figuring it would be awkward to be waiting up like the worried mother he actually was. There was shuffling as Raphael went about himself. The bathroom light flicked on for a moment before the door shut behind him. Simon shuffled himself closer to the edge of the bed.

The shower turned on and lulled Simon back into a doze. He came back to himself when he felt his glasses being taken off his face. Simon did his best to appear as if he was still sleeping and if Raphael noticed he didn’t call Simon out on it. He heard Raphael round the bed and felt the covers move and the dip of the bed as the other climbed in.

Immediately the temperature under the covers got warmer and Simon stiffened when something brushed against his back.

The sounds of the TV stopped and the room was plunged into silence and darkness. He tried to keep his breaths even and soundless.

What a fucking life he lived, he thought as Raphael moved next to him. From thinking this man wanted to kill him to sleeping in the same bed as him in the course of a few months.

He waited until Raphael’s breathing slowed and evened next to him before he settled and relaxed.

The bed was big enough for there to be a good amount of space between them but Simon could still feel the heat radiating off of the other man. It was comforting since the blankets were so thin and the air conditioning was blowing out cold air. He fell asleep easily after that.

--

The sound of the telephone ringing woke him up. He heard Raphael move next to him.

“Que es?” came a rough voice next to him. Simon kept himself from sitting up. “Vale, se lo agradezco.”

Slowly, Simon sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face as Raphael hung up the phone.

“What time is it?” he asked, squinting.

“6:00,” Raphael said in English. Simon nodded and started feeling around the bed.

“You don’t happen to see my glasses did yo-” He felt something press against his forearm. He reached up and grabbed onto something warm, Raphael’s hand. Raphael dropped his glasses in Simon’s hand. “Oh. Thank you.”

He pushed them onto his nose and blinked at the sudden change at the world. Simon turned and looked at Raphael. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to Simon as he faced the windows. They hadn’t closed the curtains so the sunrise was seeping into the room.

Simon felt his breath hitch when Raphael stretched his arms above his head. His back muscles tensed under his plain white t-shirt. It rode up to reveal a line of tan skin as he reached towards the ceiling. Simon blinked and came back when Raphael moved his shirt back into its rightful position and moved from the bed.

He walked over to his suitcase and that’s when Simon noticed it.

His hair.

Simon had only ever seen Raphael as his pristine teacher self. Always in slacks, nice suits, nice shirts, nice everything. And his hair was always put into a perfect style, not one piece was out of place. There was never a cowlick or a crease. It was alway perfect and Simon had never thought it could look any different.

Until that moment, anyways, because in that moment he was looking at a sleep warmed Raphael with his hair curling around his ears and over his forehead. It wasn’t long but it was so wavy and curly and so soft looking Simon couldn’t help but stare.

He watched as Raphael moved with an armful of clothing towards the bathroom, a dazed look on his face. Simon took in the basketball shorts and the plain shirt and the huge forearms and sat back staring at the wall for a good few minutes before getting up to get ready.

Simon checked on his phone while he waited for Raphael, groaning when he saw a load of texts from Clary. Mostly it was her freaking out about him having to share a bed with Raphael.

From Clary: omg!!! Simon!!!!!

From Clary: I want all the details. :)

From Clary: Are you already sleeping? It’s 11:45 on a Friday night.

From Clary: Are you ignoring me?

From Clary: omg izzy said you aren’t replying to her either

From Clary: Simon you BETTER tell me EVERYTHING if ANYTHING happened.

From Clary: oh and be safe.

Simon sputtered and quickly typed out a reply.

To Clary: you guys are gross. nothing like that will ever happen.

He read over it and typed another message.

To Clary: I did see him when he woke up this morning, and I’m in trouble.

Simon jumped a good foot in the air when the door to the bathroom opened. He put his phone face down on the bedside table and turned to find Raphael back to his usual state and his hair to its usual position, except for the casual attire he was sporting. Dark jeans that looked well loved, a plain shirt, and tennis shoes. He still looked a bit out of it and Simon felt his lips quirk up knowing it was because he didn’t have any coffee in him. After seeing the man in the morning without coffee a couple of times, he knew better.

“You should head down to breakfast,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Raphael nodded, picked up a key from beside the TV where he had probably put it from last night, and headed out.

--

The breakfast was actually pretty decent. It was a buffet type thing where you could make your own waffle. Simon held himself back due to the line of students in wait and decided Lucky Charms with a muffin was a good second to the waffle. He hadn’t had more than a granola bar for breakfast ever since he ran out of bagels and been without a car.

When he got out he tried to sit at an empty table, getting as far as setting his tray down before someone was calling his name.

“Simon!” He looked up to find Magnus waving to him. Alec looked up from beside him and Raphael turned around in his chair. Simon froze and pointed at himself. Magnus laughed. “Yes, you.”

He picked his tray back up and felt like he was back in a high school cafeteria. Raphael kicked the chair out for him to sit down.

--

It had been a long ass day by the time they got back. All their teams had gotten through the first rounds and were moving on. Simon had been thoroughly confused for the whole of the day. The kids would buzz in to a question Simon thought only people on Jeopardy! Would know. And even then, some of the questions were worse. Then they would get bonus questions and it took a couple of people, including his student, Andrea, to explain it until he finally had some sort of grasp on what the heck was going on.

The kids were exhausted, some saddened by their performances, and ready to leave when the first day was done. Simon was just as ready as them and he wasn’t overcome with anxiety from having to actually participate.

They got back to the hotel and Simon collapsed face first into the bed. It had been made up, so at least the maids came. He sighed gratefully into the mattress. He heard Raphael chuckle above him.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t tired,” Simon said without looking up or adjusting his position. “That was a long ass day.”

“We did get up earlier than I normally do.”

“Right, because you only get to school thirty minutes beforehand.”

“That’s all I need to start the day,” Raphael replied. Simon rolled his eyes and sat up. Raphael was standing next to the window, looking down at his phone. The soft lighting lit up his profile and left Simon in awe of how beautiful this man was, how his cheeks and lips curved. He felt something tighten in his chest when Raphael looked up at him, his facial expression was soft and his eyes were focused right on him. They stayed like that for a stretch of time until Simon caught himself and moved from the bed to where his stuff was.

“Alright,” he said, picking up his bag. “I’m going to go find the office place with the computers and get some work done.”

“Work?”

“Got quizzes to grade, emails to send out,” Simon grinned, looking back at Raphael. “You know, teacher stuff.”

“Why can’t you just stay in here?”

“I’d fall asleep.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “I’ll walk out there with you, we should check on our kids.”

Simon nodded. “Lead the way.”

--

Clary called him while he was grading. He had been thankful for the break. He told her all about the place, about how the team was doing, and she told him that her and Izzy had spent the day out with her mom. He smiled at the mention of Luke pouting at being left out.

“But, anyways,” Clary said slowly. “About your bed situation-”

“Clary-”

“Come on, Simon!” she whined. “Izzy and I have been waiting all day to hear about it!”

“She’s not there with you is she?”

“....Maybe.”

“Clary!”

“Simon!”

“Fine,” he sighed. He heard a muffled clicking noise as the phone went to speaker. “Hi, Izzy.”

“Hi, Simon,” he heard Izzy say, the smirk evident in her voice. “Tell us everything.”

Simon looked around him, as if someone was in the office with him which was not at all possible since the place felt like a broom closet with a huge desk crammed inside. “Why do you even care, Izzy? I’m sure you’ve seen the guy out of his zone a couple hundred times.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p.’ “I’ve only ever seen him the way he wants to be seen. Pressed and dressed.”

“Really?” Clary asked. “I thought you would have at least seen him in something casual?”

“Never, it’s bizarre.” Izzy answered. “Simon, you’ve seen something as rare as Bigfoot.”

“Har har,” Simon said. “But you haven’t even seen his hair?’

“Ooo, what about his hair?” Clary said.

“It’s curly,” Simon replied.

“Curly?”

“Curly.”

“That’s so weird,” Izzy said. “Like perm curly or..?”

“No, nothing like that, just wavy and curly at the ends. It made him look younger. Boyish.”

“Awwh,” both girls said in unison making Simon blush.

“Damnit, you guys. What am I going to do? I have another night and day with him.”

“I’m going to assume you aren’t in the same room as him right now,” Izzy said.

“No way, I would never say that in front of him,” Simon said, almost horrified at the thought. “He’d probably punch me for thinking about him as ‘cute.’ No, no, I’m in the office doing some work.”

“You’re so lame,” Izzy scoffed. He could imagine her flipping her hair or looking at her nails in disinterest.

“Oh, Simon,” he heard Clary sigh. “You sound like you really like him.”

“I do,” he said, admitting it for the first time to himself and to someone else. He heard the sounds of dismay on the other end, knowing they were looking at one another as if they were watching a really sad romantic comedy. Except this time it wouldn’t end happy. It would end in silence and disappointment. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Izzy asked.

“No way am I going to tell him,” Simon rebuttled. “We have one more night in a bed together and, and, he got me a car. Well, found me a car. He didn’t pay for it or anything, but finding it is most of the battle. And he’s taking me to school and then to pick it up on Monday. No way am I jeopardizing that because I have feelings for the guy. Besides, he’s one of my first friends I’ve ever made on my own.”

“Hey!”

“You know what I meant, Clary. Besides you and Eric all my friends I have has been through you. Luke was your dad, Lydia and Izzy were your friends first,” Simon said, rubbing at his forehead. “Not that I think he thinks of me as a friend. Maybe just an annoying kid he think he needs to take care of.”

“I’m sorry, Simon,” Clary said softly. He smiled sadly to himself and nodded.

“I know. It’ll be fine.” Simon said, looking at the clock. “It’s almost 12:30, I needed to go back to the room an hour and a half ago. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Good luck!” Izzy chimed.

“Night, Simon,” Clary said. She hung up and Simon slumped down into the chair.

He gathered his stuff, logged off the computer, and walked out into the lobby. The lady at the front desk looked up at him and smiled.

“Have a good night, sir.”

“You, too.”

He tried to be quiet when he went in only to find Raphael was still awake.

He was sitting in the comfy looking chair, a book resting on his knee. Simon felt a wave of affection crash through him. Raphael looked up and squinted at him, then the clock.

“You’ve been gone for a long time,” Raphael said, stretching in the chair. Simon had to look away before he became incoherent like this morning. He was actually being talked to and needed his brain to function this time around.

“Yep,” he said, “it was a hard quiz to grade. Group quizzes are usually the easiest since there are fewer papers, but finding the answers on some of those papers is….” he shook his head, “..terrible.”  

Raphael chuckled. “I have a hard time reading some students’ handwriting on essays, too. It takes me hours to get through one paper, sometimes.”

“I feel you,” Simon said. He pointed to the book in Raphael’s hand. “What’re you reading?”

“Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell,” Raphael said, looking down at the cover.

“Is it about history?” Simon asked.

“Yes?”

“Nerd,” Simon smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes.

“Did you just call me a nerd?” Raphael asked. Simon couldn’t see him but he could hear the offended and confused look on Raphael’s face.

Going to sleep was easier that night. After they had both showered and changed they were ready to pass out. Simon felt more exhausted than he had been the previous night. When he settled into bed Raphael was climbing in as well and the awkwardness flooded back into Simon all at once.

“Simon?” Raphael asked making Simon look over his shoulder at the other, eyebrows raised in question. “You still have your glasses on.”

“Right, thanks,” Simon said, plucking his glass off his face and setting them under his pillow.

“Do you usually fall asleep with them on?” Raphael turned off the light, turning the room dark.

“No,” Simon said. He paused for a beat, “Okay, yes. But they haven’t broken on me yet.”

Simon could swear he could hear Raphael rolling his eyes.

“Good night,” Simon said.

“Buenas noches. Que durmas bien,” Raphael replied. Simon made a note to himself to start writing this stuff down for Izzy to translate.

--

Simon woke up to the feeling of something itching his nose. He blinked awake and narrowed his eyes at the bright sunrise. His nose was still tickling and he tried moving away but something kept him from going too far. He reached under his pillow and shoved his glasses on his face, still confused with his sleep clouded brain. Simon looked next to him to find Raphael nestled into his side. His arm was underneath the other man, which should have been uncomfortable. He had a moment of admiration, of where he felt like this was any other morning in his life and that everything was as it should be. He watched as Raphael’s back rose and fell as he breathed, as his skin seemed to glow against the sunrise, and when he brought a hand up to run through the dark curls he felt reality hit him square in the chest.

Fuck, he thought miserably, fuckfuckfuck. How had this happened?

They were in the middle of the bed, so he hadn’t totally crowded Raphael into this position. He glanced at the clock. 5:53 am glared back at him. The phone would ring in seven minutes and wake Raphael up to this scene and throw everything between them out the window.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he started to pull his arm out from under Raphael. He kept his lower lip tightly between his teeth in order to not make a sound. He pushed down into the mattress to create a space in between Raphael’s body and the bed. Every time Raphael made any movement Simon held his breath and waited for death but he never woke up. It worked, it was the longest four minutes of Simon’s life, but it worked. He flexed his fingers a few times until the feeling came back to his hand.

Then, as slowly as he could, he rolled back over to his side of the bed.

He sighed and settled back.

The phone rang. He felt Raphael stir next to him.

“Carajo,” he heard Raphael mumble. Simon felt the bed move as Raphael rolled to pick up the phone. “Hello?” A beat. “Thank you.”

Simon sat up when Raphael stumbled out of the bed. He watched the other man throw a pair of pants over his shoulder and head towards the bathroom. Raphael glanced at Simon and stopped in front of the bed. Simon felt like the floor had been dropped out from under him at the pensive look on Raphael’s face.

“Your glasses?” Raphael pointed at his face. Simon felt his eye widen.

“Oh, I-, well, you know. Bathroom. Last night. I need them to...see.”

Raphael nodded as if any of that actually made sense and continued on his way, shutting the bathroom door behind him. Simon let out a breath and fell back onto his pillow.

--

The tournament was much more lively on that day. The majority of their teams had gotten out in the beginning of the day. They only had one remaining. Andrea’s Team. They had only managed the last round with a two point lead. Geography had gotten the best of them apparently. There was a break for lunch where all the kids were buzzing with excitement for their teammates, pulling out flash cards and getting in some extra time before the finals.

The room was filled when Simon walked in. Luckily since he was with Lydia he got a front row spot. Only thing was Raphael plopped down next to him. He tried not to pay attention to him or when his elbow bumped into Simon’s arm or when he would lean over and whisper something to Simon to make him stifle a laugh or nod in understanding.

Lydia shushed them harshly at one point. He mouthed his apology and heard Raphael chuckle next to him.

Simon wished it wasn’t dead silent around them as they all watched on. Andrea’s Team was in a good position to win. They were ten points ahead and they were doing well with the Bonuses and it was winding down.

He felt nervous and anxious and a little bit like throwing up, but he couldn’t do anything about it because they were advised to be completely silent for the benefit of the students. It was stressful to watch so he could only imagine how it was to participate. Tension rose as the other team called for a Protest and lost. Simon felt his heart pumping harder and harder.

Finally the moderator announced the last question.

“Shit,” he hissed when he looked down at the score Lydia was keeping. They were neck and neck with the team from Boswell. She didn’t respond to him, only kept her eyes on her team.

There was dead silence as Andrea, their team captain, answered the question.

Everyone was seemingly holding their breaths.

Simon knew it couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like an hour as they all watched on. There was a moment of stillness after the moderator deemed the answer correct before an eruption of applause and shouting. Most of the shouts came from their own team.

Simon turned to congratulate Lydia but was met with a full body hug from the teacher.

When they all calmed down they met with the team and went off to the trophy ceremony. Although he hadn’t known any of the kids on the team, besides Andrea, longer than two days he felt an absurd amount of admiration towards them as they watched them claim their medals and trophy. He watched Lydia for the majority of it as she glowed with pride.

--

On the bus back to the hotel the kids were all talking up a storm on the games.

“Congratulations,” Simon grinned at Lydia when she was done talking on her phone. She laughed.

“I can’t believe it,” she shook her head.

“Awh, come on,” Simon bumped a shoulder into her. She smiled back at him. “You never doubted them.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to reward them,” Lydia said. Simon glanced back to where the kids were all laughing and passing around the trophy.

“You’ll figure it out. Throw them a party. Get them some cake. A place in the yearbook.”

“We better get a whole damn page.”

When they pulled up to the hotel Lydia made everyone gather on the sidewalk for more pictures, because the million at the tournament and ceremony hadn’t been enough, then told everyone to wait.

“I just wanted to say how proud I am of you guys,” she said, unable to stop smiling. Simon found it infectious. “I know we thought this trip would be impossible at first, but we made it. You guys all performed exceptionally and with the class I all knew you had in you. Even you, Bradley.”

“Thanks, Ms. Branwell,” a boy waved making everyone chuckle.

“Thank you. All of you. Thank you,” Lydia said. They all clapped. “I am sorry to say that after a long day, we have a bus ride to catch. You have two hours before you need to all be in the lobby. That includes having your room checked by your adult, and being packed.”

Everyone groaned.

“Tomorrow is going to be torture,” Simon said in the elevator. He and Raphael were on the last one up, insisting that the kids and other adults go up to rest while they could. “And I didn’t even answer those questions.”

Raphael chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Simon huffed in reply.

They managed to leave the hotel without a hitch. The rooms he inspected were nice, not a lamp or window was broken.

Everyone was on the bus, no one had gotten left behind in the bathroom or on the curb. It was a flawless exit. Not that Simon would put it past Lydia to have anything less.

The bus had the usual first twenty minutes of incoherent chatter and then it was nothing but the soft hum of the engine. They were all passed out when Simon glanced back at the sudden change in noise. He caught Raphael’s eye when he went to turn back around. The woman, Kathy he had found out, looked like she was talking nonstop, leaning into Raphael’s side to speak into his ear. Simon couldn’t help the bark of laughter that rose in his chest. Raphael turned away from him to nod at Kathy and Simon turned back in his seat.

--

Raphael dropped him off at his house that night after they saw that all the kids had a ride home from the school.

“So, you can still take me over to that lady’s house? Because if not-”

“I’ll take you there after school,” Raphael said.

“Okay,” Simon said slowly. He looked up at his house. “I guess this is the last time you have to do this, huh?”

“Do what?”

“Drop me off here,” Simon smiled and turned back to look at the driver.

Raphael faced forwards, looking out the windshield. Simon’s smile faltered. He opened the door and got out of the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. Raphael glanced at him and nodded once. Simon shut the door and slung his bags over one shoulder each on his way up to his door. He glanced over his shoulder at the car while he fiddled with his keys. When he opened the door he heard it pull away, only turning his head fast enough to see the illumination of red taillights on his neighbor's grass.

--

The next morning wasn’t any better. He had tried to be chipper, even though his whole body had been yelling at him to stay in bed, trying to start conversation on Monday’s or that he had not left his back window open and there was not a wasp’s nest in his pantry. Raphael seemed to ignore him, not acknowledging any of his conversation starters with anything more than a grunt or a stiff nod. He had thought last night was just because Raphael had been tired.

He didn’t even walk to class with Simon. Raphael muttered something about a meeting before he got out of the car, but what kind of meeting happened 30 minutes before the first period bell rang?

Simon was left wondering what he did wrong. He voiced his concerns to Izzy and Clary at lunch.

“He didn’t even look at me when he passed through today,” Simon moped.

“I’m sure he’s just in one of his moods,” Izzy said, rubbing his back. “You know how he is.”

“No,” Simon said, sitting up at his realization. “I don’t know how he is. Shit. Why do I always do this? I fall for the unattainable. I’m just a lowly math teacher in need of a companion. I should just get a dog and die when they go.”

“Don’t say that. You aren’t as alone as you think you are,” Clary said. Always the voice of reason. He hated it but knew she was right.

“I know.” He smiled at her and Izzy. “Thank you, for being here for me and all that.”

“No problem, Simon. You’re always there when we need you. It’s what friends are for,” Izzy said, making something in Simon expand with warmth. She probably hadn’t intended it but those few words made him feel worlds better.

--

Simon glanced up when Raphael passed back into his History room for sixth period.

He didn’t acknowledge Simon. He was busy tapping at his phone.

“So, Mr. Lewis,” Jordan Parker said when they had diminished to working on their homework. “A few of the gold kids tweeted that you and Mr. Santiago shared a room this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Simon said, only half paying attention to the gossip his students were cooking up. He’d heard that a couple times today from when Andrea was giving the scoop on the tournament.

“Yeah! I heard that you guys are totally dating now,” Sherry said, holding up her phone. “There are so many pictures of you guys standing next to one another. Does he ever smile?”

Simon looked up at that. “There’s pictures of us?”

“So many, you guys have your own hashtag as of yesterday. Shout out to the Quiz Bowl team.”

“That’s a little creepy, you guys,” Simon said, nervous laughter bubbling in his throat. Maybe this was why Raphael was being so cold to him? But he couldn’t have known about it last night? He had made jokes about it before, too.

“And cringe worthy,” he heard someone mutter.

“Do you have a Twitter, Mr. Lewis?” Jordan asked, looking down at his phone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Mr. Santiago, does! It’s mostly about history stuff, and for his class, but he has some pretty funny stuff on there,” Sherry Yin said. “I followed him on Saturday.”

“What’s his name?”

A couple of kids looked up at Sherry expectantly.

“Do your homework,” Simon said in response to any more of their questions.

--

Simon was dreading for school to end at that point. He wished he had found a car on his own, that he had said yes to the gas guzzlers and 90 thousand milers.

Raphael opened his door ten minutes after the last bell rang and raised his stupid eyebrows at him. Simon scrambled to shove things back into his bag, almost tripped over his bass, but managed to follow Raphael back to his car. He felt like a child who was being given the cold shoulder by their parent for having done something unspeakable.

The only problem was he didn’t know what he had done in order to fix it. With anything he usually knew what he had done wrong in order to put some resolution to it. Like when he broke Clary’s favorite colored pencils in high school, he’d gotten her the same brand with more colors and apologized until she forgave him. Or when he forgot a pair of socks and tennis shoes for his sister after her graduation he had left while she was taking pictures and bought her a new pair of shoes and a pack of socks.

He also didn’t want to ask because he actually liked being alive, believe it or not.

The car ride was only accompanied by really old rock music. Simon hadn’t even heard of the songs that were coming through the speakers and he prided himself on his vast knowledge of music.

They drove through a residential area and Simon was glued to the window. The houses were huge with well kept lawns and expensive looking cars pulled in the front. It was like he was driving through one of those homes and garden magazines his mother had gotten in the mail. They stopped at the nicest looking house Simon had ever seen with his own two eyes. A gate kept them from the driveway. Raphael pulled to a stop beside a small speaker.

“Quien es?” A voice said through the speaker.

“Raphael.”

“Oh! Rafa! Vienes dentro, por favor!”

The gates in front of them opened and Raphael pulled slowly into the driveway. An older looking woman walked out of the huge door, waving at them.

When they got out she was all over Raphael, bringing him into a hug, pulling his face between her hands, and kissing his cheeks. He didn’t know what he had expected Raphael to do in response but it he knew it hadn’t been what he saw. Raphael was all warm smiles and graceful nods. He returned her hugs and responded in kind to her when she began to speak in long waves with hand gestures. Simon couldn’t help but smile at the scene. If this was him with a friend then what was Raphael like around his own mother and brothers?

“Simon?” the woman asked pulling him out of his trance. He nodded.

“Yes, hi, we spoke on the phone,” he said, holding out his hand when she walked towards him. She swatted away his hand and pulled him into a warm hug, rocking him back and forth slightly. He looked up at Raphael who just stared at him.

“Of course, Raphael has told me all about you!” she said when she let him go.

“Oh?”

“Only good things, no need to panic,” she said, smiling brightly. “I am sorry, I’m sure you’re only here to see the car.”

“No, no! You’re so great! I’m so thankful for all of this,” Simon said as he followed her down the driveway to what looked like the garage. He looked back over his shoulder to find Raphael with his arms crossed leaning against the hood of his car.

“Nonsense,” she said, waving her hand. “When Raphael told me a friend of his was in need of a car I was so happy. You know I don’t want to give it out to just anyone. I want to help someone when I can. This thing has been sitting in the garage for almost a year now. I just want it gone. You are doing me a favor, Simon.”

He watched as she punched numbers into a keypad on the wall next to one of the garage doors. It started to open and Simon thought he would drop dead right there.

“Is this it?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course.”

He stepped closer at her insistence, running a hand over the driver side door.

They went inside, after that. He could see Raphael out of the corner of his eye watching them from the kitchen as he read over the papers. Simon signed a few things, turned down some snacks and lemonade, and then got two sets of keys pressed into his hand.

“I hope you like it,” Rosalie said when they went back out to the garage.

“I do, wow, I can’t thank you enough,” he said. She pulled him into another hug.

“No need to thank me. Anything to help out a friend. You have my number, feel free to call me anytime. I always have dinner prepared if you ever feel like stopping by. I’ll make sure Raphael brings you over sometime.”

Simon nodded and made sure his smile didn’t slip.

He waved as she went inside. Raphael took her place at the door as she passed by. He looked at Simon with the same deadpan look he had been giving him all day.

“Got the car?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Simon said. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” He looked back at Raphael who just kept staring at him. Simon stepped closer to him. “Honestly, I know you don’t think this is anything. But you’ve done a lot for me. So, thank you. I’m sorry to have been in your hair all this time. I promise I’ll never bother you again. If, you know, I can help it. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Simon nodded to himself at that, thinking highly of himself at his little speech. He pressed a smile to his lips and turned away.

Something pulled tight in his chest as he forced himself to not look back. He got in the car and pulled away, passing by the car he had been riding in for the past couple weeks, and went home.

--

The whole of the week they didn’t acknowledge one another. Simon would always look longly at Raphael’s back as he passed through to his Spanish class or see him in class when he was coming back from his lunch or catch a glimpse through the window during his classes, but that was it. He would listen to music on his way to and from the school.

Then he stopped coming through Simon’s room.

He had thought it was substitute and got worried, Raphael having told him he would only miss school if he was stick or had an emergency in the family, only to see the man in his room teaching during seventh period when Simon was handing out graded papers. He had stopped short and stared at the other man. He felt something break in him at the realization that Raphael didn’t want to so much as look at Simon. Raphael was deliberately walking the long way so he wouldn’t have to see the other teacher.

His students could feel the shift of mood in their teacher. Though he did a good job of not showing it while he was teaching and preparing them for the test that was only a few days away now, they could see when they were doing practice problems or after school during tutorials. They knew something was wrong, but when asked Simon brushed them off and denied it. He didn’t want their attention anywhere but on the work, on the test because they deserved to do well.

--

Chapter Text

May

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Izzy asked. She and Clary had tried to coax him out of his mood, but nothing seemed to work.

“No!” Simon blurted, shrinking back when everyone in the room turned their heads to look at him. “No, that would only make it worse.”

“How?” Clary asked.

“He didn’t even like me in the first place.” Simon slumped in his chair, ignoring the question. “He doesn’t even take the shortcut through my room anymore.”

“Simon, he does not hate you,” Clary scoffed. “He drove you for a month. He slept in the same bed as you. He could have gotten his own room, but he didn’t. There’s no way he hates you.”

“I’d say it’s just the opposite,” Izzy added, smiling when Clary looked at her.

“Then why is he being like this?” Simon asked, sitting up.

Clary was right. Of course she was right, she was always right when it came to Simon’s problems, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. Raphael had been given the option to get his own room, he’d been given the option for Simon to sleep on the floor, but he had insisted on Simon taking the bed and complied when Simon said he wouldn’t allow him to sleep on the floor either. He had entertained him in the car with conversation that ranged from surface level to the stuff that kept Simon up at night. Raphael had laughed with him, had smiled at him, and Simon had to believe it was real.

“What do I do to fix it?”

“Talk to him,” the two said in unison.

He nodded. Talking was one of Simon’s strong suits. Sometimes he found he couldn’t stop talking. Someone had once told him they wouldn’t be surprised to hear him go do a filibuster.

The only thing was Raphael didn’t want to listen.

--

He threw himself into work after that. Head on into the hell descent. AP tests were in full affect and Simon wasn’t going to let anything distract him from his students any longer. He pushed all thoughts of the other teacher out of his head. He kept his kids focused on the task at hand, even though some of them were already fried from the tests they had either gotten back from or were studying for. He didn’t stop pushing until the day of the test.

He was walking around the Maths and Sciences building with candy on hand. He had everything for anyone, vegan candy, gluten-free candy, peanut butter-less candy, even non-candy for those who didn’t want any, they still got a free pencil. His students, and even some that weren’t his students, smiled or waved at him as they dragged themselves to their testing rooms. Simon returned a warm smile or high five as they passed, encouraging words if they spoke to him.

Simon knew he wasn’t taking the test, every year he knew he wasn’t taking the test, but that didn’t stop him from feeling anxious and nervous for the students. He had looked at his roster and saw that every single one of his students had signed up to take the test, something he had never experienced before, and knew that all of them - well most of them - had worked hard throughout the year, despite everything. He only wanted the best for them.

After three and a half hours the students were finally released. His later periods came into class looking like hell. He could understand, having to focus through a one hour class is hard enough.

The overall survey was that it hadn’t been bad and that they had expected much worse. Of course, he never knew if that was a good thing or a bad thing because if it felt easy they either knew what they were doing or were totally off the mark. But he congratulated them all and let them chose what movie or show they wanted to watch during class, knowing they deserved a moment of pause and relaxation.

He had exhausted himself with preparation as well, not even noticing the symptoms of allergies creeping up on him. Ignoring all the signs until his eyes were watering so much that a few of his students asked if he was crying. The sore throat and runny nose followed shortly after. Not that it kept him away from school. He just went to sleep earlier and made sure their classroom had a full stock of tissues as more than a few of his students were in the same boat.

--

Luke called him into his office, relaying that some school had called asking about him.

“You seem a little under-whelmed by this,” Luke said, narrowing his eyes at Simon from across his desk. Simon just shrugged. “Simon, you realize this is a very big deal?”

“Well, yeah,” Simon said, “I know that. I was just...busy focusing on preparation for the exam.”

“And yet you still aren’t acting like this is a big deal,” Luke put on the face Simon had become familiar with throughout the years he had known the man. There was something about him that always got the truth from people. Simon and Clary had always tried to get stuff past him but never could due to this look. Especially if he- and yeah those were the crossed arms. Simon let out an exasperated sound and sat up.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, just stop with your Jedi-Dad-Mind-Tricks,” he said, watching Luke break into a smirk. “I’ve been having some personal...issues and I’ve been trying to ignore them but it isn’t really working and I wish it didn’t affect me, but it does and you can forgive me for not being excited about this. Not to mention I would never leave.”

“Clary was telling us about your problems with Mr. Santiago,” Luke nodded. Simon felt the burn in his cheeks. Of course she would. Jocelyn would probably call him later saying she ‘just happened’ to order too much food and that he should come over to help them finish it. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what’s going on, but-”

“I know I know, don’t let it interfere with your work.”

“No, well, yes, but that’s not what I was going to say,” Luke said. “I wanted to say to put yourself first for once, Simon. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Simon nodded. This is probably where Clary got her advice/intuition skills from now that he thought about it. “Thank you.”

“Well,” Luke said, smiling as he stood and straightened his jacket, “I am the one who hired you.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “So, who’s this other person calling about me?”

“Her name is Camille Belcourt,” Luke said. Simon could swear there was something of distaste in the way he said her name. “She’s the principal at Bainbridge.”

“The boarding school?” Simon laughed. “Wow. And she was asking about me?”

“Yes,” Luke sighed. “She wanted to meet with you sometime this week.”

“Oh,” Simon shook his head. “You can tell her she’s wasting her time. I’m not going there. I worked at a private school before.”

“That was one year, Simon.”

“Never again,” Simon said. “That’s for professors and people who know how to humble the rich youth of America like the wise Robin Williams. No, I’ll stay here.”

“Simon,” Luke said, his principal voice breaking out now. “This is a huge opportunity for you. I want you to meet with her. See what she has to offer.”

“Luke, I’m not going to that school.”

“At least go for the free meal?”

Simon thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Alright, but only for the food. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Luke just smiled and handed him a sticky note with a phone number before kicking him out of his office.

--

“What can I do for you?” Magnus asked.

Simon stood in the middle of his room, twisting his hands together.

“I, uh,” he shrugged. “I was just…”

“Wanting to know how Raphael is?” Magnus said without missing a beat as he went about cleaning his room. Simon guessed there had been some sort of lab that day due to all the glass bottles and eye droppers that were on a drying wrack. Simon simply nodded.

“Well, he’s doing miserably,” Magnus huffed with a roll of his eyes. “He’s been nothing but a pain lately. I’ve never seen him like this. And I have seen many things when it comes to that man. You must have really gotten under his skin.”

Simon winced, his chest tightening. “But he’s alright?”

“Perfectly annoying.”

“So...how do I apologize?”

“Apologize?” Magnus looked up at him, his eyes searching until he laughed. “Oh, no, you have nothing to apologize for, if anything you’ve done more good than harm.”

“Then why is he-?”

“Like I said,” Magnus smiled. “He has not been this happy in a long time. He has been through many sorrows and ended up saving himself from a place that most people would never return from.”

“I...don’t understand?” Simon said, narrowing his eyes and cocking his head, trying to process everything Magnus was trying to say.

“You will,” Magnus said. He picked up a few bottles full of liquid, one with the skull and crossbones on the label. “If you truly care about him, and I know you do, then be patient.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” Simon said, watching as Magnus walked on towards the exit with the chemicals.

“No,” Magnus said, smiling when Simon deflated. “Take it from me, the waiting will all be worth it.”

--

Simon was helping one of his students with the review for the final exam after school the next day when Jace came crashing in.

“Simon!” he yelled, yanking him up from where he sat.

“Jace!” he responded, flailing out of his grip. “What the-? I have a student-!”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Jace leaned over, squinting down at their paper. “Work on the one with the graph, I need to borrow your teacher out in the hallway for a second.”

“Jace, I’m not just-, hey, wait,” but Jace was already dragging him by the arm out into the hallway.

“What are you doing?” Jace asked, throwing him against the wall and poking him in the chest harshly.

“I was trying to help a student with their homework, what the hell is wrong with you?” Simon shot back, fixing his glasses.

“You’re the one going out to dinner with Camille Belcourt!”

“Whoa, why is that your problem?”

“Because you’re my problem, Simon. Whether you like it or not we’re friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Jace said, “I like you, Simon. You got charisma. You care about people. You were the only one who came and got me from my friend’s bachelor party last year. Remember? Alec is my brother and he didn’t even answer his phone.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You are not going to dinner with Belcourt, alright?”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s a leech who will take what she wants and leave you for the vultures when she’s done with you.”

“Jace, I’m not actually going to accept any of her offers. And besides, Luke’s the one who told me to go for the free stuff.”

“Oh.” Jace said, putting his hands on his hips. “You weren’t going to leave?”

Simon blinked. “Is that what this is about?”

“What? Pft, no, I was just-”

“You don’t want me to leave? Awh, Jace,” Simon wrapped his arms around the taller man. “That’s so sweet-”

“Get off me,” Jace said, but didn’t move from Simon’s grip. “I don’t care if you leave or not. I’m just...worried about how Clary will act.”

“It’s okay, friend. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“This is the last time I do anything nice for you,” Jace said. Simon finally pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t you dare tell Izzy about this.”

“Yeah, I know, you can still beat me up….Friend.”

Jace groaned.

--

Simon felt underdressed when he walked into the restaurant where Camille had told him to meet her.

“Do you need me to repeat that?” the overly airy voice had said over the phone. He shivered uncomfortably at the sound again.

“No, no, I got it. I’ll see you then. And thank you for the opportunity to meet with you.”

“No problem. I look forwards to seeing you in person.”

He felt the hand on his arm before he saw her, but when he turned he found the embodiment of the voice he had heard. Sometimes people didn’t look like how they sounded, but she was everything he had imagined and more.

Camille Belcourt was exactly what people had cracked her up to be. She was much shorter than Simon and was nothing but a small petite thing but the way she was looking at him made him feel as if he had come to be dinner instead of have it.

“Uh, Ms. Belcourt?”

“It’s Camille, like I told you over the phone,” she purred, “please, follow me.”

Simon winced and turned his head into the crease of his elbow, sneezing three times.

“You poor thing, are you sick?” Camille pouted, running a hand over his forehead.

“No, sorry, it’s just, you know,” Simon sniffled, fixing his glasses with his free hand. “Allergies.”

She led him to the far corner of the dining area where a table for two was awaiting them. Simon allowed himself a moment of terror and panic while they sat across from one another. The waiter came by with water and a bottle of wine that Simon firmly turned down.

“So, Simon,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her side of the table, running her fingers up his shirt sleeve. “My team and I have been watching you for a while.”

“Really?” Simon asked. “I’m sure that isn’t as creepy as it sounds.”

She laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “We’ve been watching the scores of your students. You’ve done an outstanding job and we all think it’s a shame you’re stuck at that school of yours with all those people who just don’t appreciate you.”

“I don’t do it for the spotlight,” Simon shrugged, trying to inch his hand away from her grasp but she wouldn’t give any slack. “I do it for the students.”

“And that’s why we like you, Simon. You’re still enthusiastic about the job. About the work,” she smiled. “We would love it if you came to teach our students.”

Simon took a few big gulps of his water. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh, right, Luke. The maker of all his problems lately.

“You’re everything and more,” she continued, picking up his hand now and rubbing circles into his palm and the inside of his wrist. “We would appreciate you, Simon. We would listen to your thoughts and ideas. You obviously have the right idea about when it comes to your students. I just want to give you the opportunity to do something, to have the chances your supposed to have. The respect you deserve.”

Something struck in Simon at that. All the backlash he had gotten from his department and even other teachers all over the school had always bothered him, but he had dealt with those types of people all his life. He just thought it was something everyone did.

She continued talking over the course of their meal, running her foot over Simon’s shin and talking about the top equipment and resources he would have access to, having more freedom with his lesson plans. The more she talked the more he listened and by the end of the night he found himself saying that he would consider the offer and mean it. She said she would have to give him a tour of the campus sometime.

He took a few hours to research the school when he got home.

--

“Simon, you can’t be serious?” Clary scoffed at lunch the next day. He just shrugged.

“I mean...I dunno.”

“I knew this would happen,” Izzy shook her head next to Clary, looking away from Simon. “She sinks her claws into people and drags them down with her. It’s what she does.”

“Come on,” Clary smiled, “Simon. You’re not...you aren’t leaving, right?”

“No. I...well, I don’t know.” Izzy made a noise and crossed her arms over her chest. Clary’s smile faltered. “She said a lot of things.”

“Yeah!” Izzy said, throwing her arms up. “So she can steal you away, take all your methods, and toss you out on your ass with terrible rumors as an excuse as to why she fired you so you’d never be a credible source or work as a teacher again!”

“Hey, whoa,” Simon held his hands up. “All I said was that I was thinking about it.”

“That means she already has her line hooked and sunk,” Izzy said. “You cannot be this naive!”

“Hey! I am not naive! Maybe I’m just sick of being treated like shit day in and day out,” Simon said before pushing off from the table and storming out of the lounge, ignoring them as they called out after him.

--

Throughout the week he found himself glancing at the door, moving around his room more in order to get a glimpse of the teacher on the other side. He regretted it when he caught sight of Raphael giving a lecture during second period. His breath caught in his throat and he froze in the middle of his classroom to stare as Raphael talked about something to do with History, staring out at his class, and not noticing Simon at all.

Simon had gotten use to not seeing or talking with Raphael every day. The door that connected their rooms had not opened since last month. There was still the ever present pressure that had seemed to be constantly pushing on his chest since their last conversation.

But he was recovering. Like he always did.

That was always the worst part, he found, when losing someone that had meant something. Having to try and forget everything he had already committed to memory.

He caught himself and looked away, moving back to the safety of his desk to start explaining the practice problems the kids had been working on.

--

“What are you doing here?” Simon asked when he found Alec stalking around his room. “Uh, not that I’m not exactly opposed to you being here. You just don’t normally reside in-”

“I came here to warn you,” Alec said. Simon rolled his eyes.

“You know I might actually take her up, just to spite all of you.”

“That would not be a good idea,” Alec said, “Camille Belcourt is not someone you can trust.”

“So I’ve been told. Do you all have a bad experience with her or something?”

“And yet you’re still thinking about leaving to work for her?”

“Why do you even care?” Simon asked, “You hate me.”

“I don’t...hate you,” Alec said, his words terse. Simon laughed.

“Good one. Now what is this really about?”

“I don’t hate you, Simon.”

Simon watched him carefully. The taller man looked uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than usual, and he was avoiding Simon’s gaze pointedly.

“Oh my, God, you do care,” Simon said, something catching in his chest. “Wow, this lady must be real evil for all of the Lightwoods to show their affection within the span of one week. I am feeling truly loved.”

“Don’t push it,” Alec warned and Simon only nodded. “Magnus had told me horror stories about her. I’m surprised Raphael didn’t warn you about her sooner.”

Simon’s good mood was diminished within the confines of one sentence. “Well, Raphael and I don’t...talk anymore.”

“Why not? Weren’t you two…,” Alec made some sort of vague gesture with his hand that reminded Simon of something Magnus would do.

“No,” Simon shook his head. “No, I don’t think we were.”

“Sorry.”

“It’ll be fine.” Simon paused. “I’ll be fine.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Thanks for-”

“I’m going-”

They said at the same time. Simon motioned for Alec to speak first.

“I’m going to go, then.”

“Thanks, Alec,” Simon smiled, “it means a lot coming from you.”

“Whatever you say. Keep up the good work.”

Alec left in three strides. Simon breathed out a large breath and couldn’t help the smile that sat on his face through the rest of the day.

--

He knocked on Izzy’s door twice before taking three steps back. She answered, the smile falling from her face when she laid eyes on him. Simon ignored the pain that caused him and smiled hopefully at her instead. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised in expectation.

“Can I help you?” she asked, “Or are you going to ignore my advice and yell at me again?”

“I’m sorry, Izzy,” he said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“I know,” she said.

“I was never going to take her deal. I would never leave you or Clary. And Luke got me my job, I wouldn’t betray him like that. I was just a little sick of being pushed so far by my department head and I took it out on my friends. I am so sorry. Please, don’t hate me.”

Izzy watched him through a sour looking expression that changed abruptly into a smile that rivaled the sunshine. Simon got the wind knocked out of him when she squeezed him in a hug.

“Oh, Simon,” she said when she pulled away, holding him at arm’s length, “I just didn’t want to see you get burned.”

“I know,” he said, frowning, “I don’t know why I reacted like that, to you of all people.”

“I forgive you,” she said, “as long as you’re not going to take the job.”

“Of course not,” Simon replied with a shake of his head. “Not after all three of the Lightwood siblings have sworn me off.”

“Alec talked to you?”

“And Jace,” Simon nodded, “it was kind of surreal.”

“Well, I’m glad we could knock some sense into you.”

She pulled him inside to watch a movie, Izzy mostly talking through it about Clary and how her younger brother was coming home from college for a short visit, and how her team was going to the play offs. Simon was just thankful to have his friend back.

Not that he had ever really lost her.

--

“Simon Lewis!”

Simon dropped everything in his hands on his way to his car. He sighed in frustration but turned to find Magnus Bane walking towards him.

“Hey, Magnus,” Simon said, waving awkwardly.

“I had expected my dear friend, Raphael, to do the dirty work, but it would seem that he is still being quite stubborn when it comes to you so I have taken it upon myself to warn you.”

“About Camille?” Simon sighed, crouching down to pick up his papers.

“How did you-? Have you and Raphael reconciled then?”

“No,” Simon said, shaking his head. Magnus’s face fell. “First Jace told me, then Izzy ranted at me, then Alec told me. I think it’s safe to say I won’t take her offer.”

“I see…,” Magnus said, looking off to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. The look was starting to scare Simon because whenever Magnus had that look it meant something was going to happen. And usually Simon ended up getting hurt. Or drunk out of his mind. Or both.

He stood up and Magnus patted his shoulder.

“So what’s with her? Is she just a terrible person?” Simon asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Magnus got an annoyed look on his face, one Simon had never seen directed at him before. This woman must have been something else to achieve a higher level of being obnoxious than Simon Lewis.

“She’s something that I would not wish upon my worst enemies.”

Simon winced. “How do you know her? If you don’t mind me asking, did you work with her or?”

“We dated. A long... long time ago.”

“Wow. Well, okay. Thank you for the...warning. I’ll make sure to steer clear.”

Magnus nodded and smiled at him. “Have you called her back yet?”

“No, I was going to when I got home.”

“Could you hold off?”

“Uh, sure? Why?”

“Nothing of your concern,” Magnus smiled, “Not yet, anyways. Just play along with her games for a while longer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you positive you won’t abide into her routine?”

“Listen, if you of all people are having a one on one with me about staying away from this woman it’s safe to say it’ll be a no from me.”

“Good,” Magnus said, he did another one of his hand things before walking back the way he came. Simon watched him for another moment in confusion before returning on his way.

--

To Magnus: can I call camille?

From Magnus: Not yet. You’ll know when you can call her.

To Magnus: What does that even mean?

From Magnus: ;)

To Magnus: So I gotta go on this campus tour?

From Magnus: If you wouldn’t mind.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Simon asked, passing his phone over to Izzy at lunch.

“No idea,” she said with a shrug. “Could be anything when it comes to that man.”

Simon sighed loudly in frustration. “I don’t understand. First he’s rushing down the hallway to warn me not to take the job, then the next he’s telling me to wait on my reply?”

Clary shrugged. Izzy gave his phone back. Simon looked at the conversation again and frowned.

--

The campus tour was...well it was pretty sweet if Simon was going to be honest.

The school itself was huge. It went right into the diehard private school trope hand book. It had been built out of an old building with stone walls and stained glass windows that went from the floor to the vaulted ceilings.

Kids in uniforms were still wandering around the halls, Camille saying something about after school clubs and tutorials when a group of them passed by. Simon was so engrossed in the architecture that he was barely paying attention to her.

She walked him around for hours, showing him their huge library full of book cases that were so high Simon didn’t want to think about the ladder that was needed to get the ones on the highest shelves. Like how could someone even read the titles on the spines to think, ‘I’ll check this one out.’

They had an indoor pool and a huge outdoor facility. It had been quite the drive to the school, as it was placed somewhat far away from the public. But the fields around it were huge and so green. He winced at the thought of how much it took to water those things.

Camille even introduced him to some of the teachers. They were either old or looked at Simon with the sanctimonious looks he had been expecting. But they all seemed to snap to attention when Camille said his name aloud to them. They became overly friendly, saying they would take him out this summer; show him the ropes of the school. The fake words were so tangible he could feel them on his skin, as if Camille had given them a script and this was the final production. He only smiled politely and played his part for whatever Magnus’s reasons were.

--

It was Friday, which meant no one was coming to tutorials unless they said so, but that didn’t keep Simon from sticking around his classroom. Like he always did. Just in case.

He was listening to music on full blast with headphones while typing emails when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Simon flinched and turned so fast the headphones ripped out of his phone, putting him in silence as he found Raphael standing above him.

His heart immediately started pounding and the butterflies in his stomach started up their usual song and dance. He’d read somewhere that this was due to the Fight or Flight reaction humans had because he had thought something was terribly wrong with him when he was younger. Turns out a lot of people freak out when giving oral reports or talked to someone new. But he had found ways to get over it when he had joined his band and had to perform in front of groups of people. And now that he was a teacher he almost didn’t give two shits.

Almost.

He pulled the headphones out of his ears, setting them blindly on his desk, not looking away from Raphael.

“Uh, hi-?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Raphael asked, stepping forwards again, looming over Simon in his rolly chair. He tried to back up, but the back of the chair hit the wall and he was trapped.

Simon sputtered. “I don’t-? What?”

“Camille Belcourt is not someone you want to be involved with, Simon,” Raphael continued, his eyes narrowing. “She will chew you up and spit you up like a piece of gum.”

Simon watched him carefully. Didn’t he know that Simon wasn’t going to take the job? He’d thought by now the school gossiping channel would have passed around that information. Hell, he was best friends with the guy who told him to keep up an act for her. And besides-

“What do you care?” Simon asked, his voice shaky but loud in his ears. “If I’m gone you won’t have to talk to me anymore, right? You won’t have to worry about seeing me anymore. You can use your short cut again. I’m sure they’d turn this back into a computer lab.”

“Are you not listening to me? She will end your career, ruin your life, take you apart until you are nothing but a puddle of your former self.”

“No,” Simon said, standing up, making Raphael move back. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you care about me.”

“Simon-”

“The worst part was that I believed you, man, I thought I was finally making a real friend. I thought you actually liked me,” Simon said, laughing with no humor.

“Simon, I’m trying to help you,” Raphael said in a voice soaked with desperation. Simon had never seen Raphael like this. He’d never had the upper hand on anyone, really, except maybe Clary when it came to sci-fi, but that had been an argument she went into losing already. But this was Raphael Santiago. The fearsome teacher who had scared the shit out of him from day one, was looking at him uneasily, and struggling to get his words out. Sure, he had seen him caught off guard a couple of times, but nothing like this.

Raphael opened his mouth, his eyes flickering around the room only to land on Simon again. The silence replaced their voices for a long time. Simon tried to stay focused but Raphael was so close and it was beginning to get really warm, and Simon was finally realizing how close their faces were actually-

He grabbed his bag and phone from behind Raphael on the desk and walked out the door. Magnus had told him to be patient when it came to this, and he had been. It had been a month until Raphael came to find him, acting as if he had never ignored Simon every time they were in the same proximity. Maybe he had been too harsh, he thought as he practically jogged to the parking lot, but Raphael had thrown the first couple of punches. Simon had simply thrown one back.

He had only a minor break down in his car, but he played rap music on his way home and felt like a baller when Clary and Izzy came over later, telling him their congratulations with fist bumps to celebrate his new found self-confidence.

“‘Bout damn time, too,” Izzy told him.

--

“I’m sorry to hear you say that,” Camille said over the phone, the light airy voice she had been sporting since he had first spoken to her diminished into something more annoyed.

He called her the next Monday, having gotten a text from Magnus giving him the go. He’d asked why he had needed to prolong it but Magnus had only said it didn’t matter anymore.

“Yeah, well, can’t fix what isn’t broken and all that.”

“But you can upgrade.”

“Thank you again, Ms. Belcourt, but I’m sticking with my decision.”

“If you say so,” she scoffed. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Goodbye,” he said, and hung up before she could get the last word.

--

It was a dark and ugly day the Thursday before the last week of school; the last day of May. The rain had been pouring since early that morning. The students came in with umbrellas and soaked shoes. Thunder cracked every so often, but the lights had only flickered once during second period.

Everyone was complaining about it throughout the day, but it didn’t bother Simon. Perfect weather to go home and watch a trilogy to. Now whether it would be Back to the Future, Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars was still a toss-up.

He managed to get through the day, never so much as allowing himself to blink in the door’s direction.

“Mr. Lewis?” Sarah asked, she stood before his desk in the mists of fifth period.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, grabbing the pen out from behind his ear. “Having trouble with a problem or-?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “I was just wanted to give you this.”

She held out an envelope. He took it from her flipping it over to find his name written in her bubbly handwriting he had come to know so well, he would know her paper even if she hadn’t written her name on it.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking back up at her.

“It’s a thank you letter,” she said, “they asked us to write them in our English classes. I wanted to write one for you, so. There it is.”

“Oh,” he blinked. “Wow. Thank you.”

“Mr. Lewis!” Marcus said, standing with his own envelope raised above his head, “I wrote you one, too.”

“You guys-” Simon started, taking Marcus’s letter, too.

Then a few more students stood up and gave him their own envelopes addressed to him.

“I put yours in that mailbox thing in the front office,” Nathan said. “That’s what my teacher told us to do with them, anyways.” There were a few ‘Me, too’s throughout the room.

Simon may have cried. But only a little bit. He blamed it on his allergies.

--

He checked his mailbox after school to find it overflowing with letters from his students. So much so that one of the office ladies, Nancy, had to start taking the letters in a box under her desk.

“They just started that in the English classes,” she said, hoisting the box onto the desk. “I’m surprised they’ve never done it before.”

Simon could only nod, his throat closing up at the sight of all the letters.

He took off his jacket and covered the box full of the student’s letters on the way to his car so they wouldn’t be ruined by the rain, not caring that he was soaked to his socks when he got home.

Usually he would get three or four letters like these from his students, and they would only be from those he had written recommendation letters for, but this. This was more than a little overwhelming.

Simon had decided on Back to the Future when he got home, not so much paying attention to the movie as it was some quality background noise while he read the letters curled up on the couch. It was well into the night and he had been crying here and there from some of the more sentimental letters. What could he say? Some of them were really heartwarming.

The thunder cracked outside his windows, making the house shake and the room fill with blue light when lightning struck down to compete with the noise. He was amazed at the rain still hitting hard against any surface it came into contact with. He was just hoping the power wouldn’t go out because he had no idea where he had last left the flashlight and owned no candles after the Fire Scare™ of last Christmas.

He flinched at the sound of knocking at the door. Furrowing his brow, Simon glanced at the clock. 11:59 pm glared back at him.

Who the hell would be knocking this late besides a murderer or someone with a flat tire?

Simon swallowed and stood slowly, making his way towards the front door.

Chapter Text

June

“What are you doing here?” Simon asked, pulling the door open to come face to face with a very wet and very angry  Raphael Santiago. He had looked through the peephole, having a mini heart attack when the sky lit up enough to reveal Raphael’s face.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” Simon answered with a shake of his head. “No, I was already awake. Why are you here at-,” he looked at his clock again, “-twelve o’clock in the morning?”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Is this about Camille?” Simon sighed. “Raphael-”

“You can’t work for her, Simon.”

“Raphael,” Simon tried, clamping his mouth shut when Raphael held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” Raphael said. “I know what she’s like, I worked for her. I was a student teacher, and I thought it was a good opportunity at the time. Magnus introduced me to her. She liked my track record, my grades, my references, and hired me immediately. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I had secured a job within two months of working under her. Then things starting going south with her and Magnus and other schools started calling me with full time offers. She...she said some things about me that got around to parents and the other schools. I was fired. It was a miracle Garroway hired me after everything, and luckily Magnus was already working there to vouch for me. But he fought for me, he put the rumors to the rest.”

“I’m so sorry,” Simon said, not meaning for his voice to come out so quiet. Raphael just shook his head.

“I’m not here for your pity. I’m here to tell you to steer clear of her. You’re a good teacher. Your students love you, your coworkers in your department are jealous of you, and the rest of the staff adore you. Don’t throw that away.”

Simon was silent as he replayed the words in his mind again until they started to make some sort of sense. Raphael just watched, brown eyes finding their target and making Simon swallow hard. Those eyes had always had a way of making Simon feel naked, more than naked. Like they had cracked him open on a display; everything he had ever thought there for Raphael to see and weigh for evaluation before moving on to the next thing. Ever since he first found himself under the unforgiving gaze he had felt opened and exposed and unworthy.

“I was never going to accept her offer,” Simon blurted. “I only went to dinner with her because Luke made me. And, yeah, okay, I thought about it, but only for like a hot second, because then the Lightwoods came to yell at me and then Magnus came and told me not to, too, and I…,” Simon breathed. “I was never going to leave.”

“Magnus told you?” Raphael repeated, stiffening.

“Yes.” He paused. “Not your story. Just that he dated her and that she was evil.”

“You’re not leaving?”

“No.”

Raphael looked away from Simon, cocked his head, and did that eyebrow thing were they rise and fall all in a split second. He finally took that moment to realize water droplets were falling from Raphael’s hair down his neck and catching in a shirt that was sticking to Raphael’s chest. The man was soaked, a puddle forming under where he stood on Simon’s porch. And even then he still managed to look good. Better than Simon anyways, in his pajama pants and tear stained t-shirt. Simon hesitated for a moment before opening his door wider and stepping along with it, motioning for Raphael to come inside.

“No, that’s not necessary-” Raphael started.

“I’m not letting you drive in that,” Simon said, looking behind Raphael at the hell storm. He was already starting to feel guilty for making him stand out there through their whole conversation. The wind was starting to chill Simon, and he wasn’t dressed in wet clothing. “You’ll kill yourself or wreck your car, and I really like that car.”

“Simon, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, now come inside. I’ll get you a towel.”

Raphael looked like he was going to flat out refuse, jaw set in place with the scowl he had on. It surprised Simon when Raphael ducked in through the doorway. Simon closed the door behind him and padded off to get him a towel.

“You should take your jacket off,” Simon said when he returned, holding out his most non-embarrassing towel, to Raphael. “It’s soaking and you’ll dry faster.”

Raphael regarded him and Simon almost opened his mouth to backtrack and apologize until Raphael started tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. Simon helped after watching him struggle to remove the soaked fabric from his skin. He pulled Raphael’s sleeve until he could free his arm from its grasp. Goose bumps coated Raphael’s arms. He motioned to the hook beside Raphael from him to hang it, next to his own jacket.

Simon handed him the towel and only watched him dry his hair for few seconds before floundering at the realization he was staring and moved into the living room. He busied himself with cleaning up the student’s letters that were all strewn about the couch and chair. He hated this. Feeling strained around someone he had just felt comfortable enough talking about his awkward band stories, like that one time he almost fell off the stage because he hadn’t tied his shoe, and now all he could do was fix a pillow and avoid eye contact.

“Stop fidgeting,” Raphael said, making Simon look up at him. The towel was hanging around his neck, reminding Simon of a swimmer or old guy getting out of the sauna. His hair, drier now, was starting to become its natural self as the rain probably washed away any remaining product.

“Sorry,” Simon said, letting the pillow go and standing up straight.

“What’re those?” Raphael asked, flicking his chin towards the box Simon had just moved. He smiled down at the box.

“They’re letters,” he said, “from my students.”

“All of those are from your students?”

“I know,” Simon shook his head. “From the English assignment? I have to write back to all the English teachers that I got the letters for the kids to get their grades.”

He looked back to the other teacher when Raphael chuckled. Simon found himself smiling at the familiar sound. Something ached within him for this, whatever this was. But there was still the lingering sting of betrayal and rejection.

“I don’t know how long the storm will last,” Simon said, motioning to the window. “But you can stay here for as long as it does. I have a guest bedroom.”

“We have school tomorrow,” Raphael said. Simon had to remind himself that they’re teachers and yes, that statement made sense coming from a grown man not currently enrolled.

“Should have thought of that before you came to knock on my door,” Simon replied, raising his eyebrows when Raphael rolled his eyes. “What? You couldn’t have just called? Or texted? Or talked to Magnus?”

“I don’t text,” Raphael said,” or have your number.  And Magnus was the one who told me to talk to you about it in the first place.”

“What?” Simon pulled his arms to fold across his chest. “He’s the one who made me continue to talk to Camille.”

“Sorry,” Raphael said. “It would seem my friend likes to keep details to himself.”

“I don’t understand,” Simon said.

“Nothing,” Raphael shook his head. “Thank you for letting me stay here it’s-”

“A mess.”

“-nice,” Raphael finished, stepping forwards into the living room. His shoes squeaked against the wooden flooring. “I was expecting more pizza boxes and a Nicolas Cage shrine.”

“Hey, now, I’m not that obsessed.”

“You said you know all the lines to all his movies?”

“There’s a fine line between admiration and worshipping. I like to think that if I ever met him I would be sane and not try to maul him. Just ask if he wanted to scale the Statue of Liberty with me.”

Raphael laughed, that genuine sound that Simon had only beared witness to a few times. It lasted for only a second but Simon felt something he had tried so desperately to hide away unfurl in his chest, warming him from the inside out. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to let his hopes get too high, not wanting to go back to where he had been just hours ago.

“Is this you?” Raphael asked, pulling Simon out of his mind. Simon turned his head to what Raphael’s hand was touching and immediately wanted to die on the spot. A picture frame containing the image of Simon and Becky cooking in the kitchen. Except they weren’t really cooking, just sitting on the counter covered in chocolate brownie mix while Simon was singing into a spoon at the age of 7 and his sister had her arm around his shoulders sticking her tongue out at the camera and in retrospect, their mother. It was one of his mother’s favorite stories to tell, walking into her house to find her kids jamming out to some tween band while batter was on every inch of her kitchen except the pan they had set out.

“Uh, no, that’s my identical twin, Solomon,” Simon said.

“Solomon?”

“He was evil. Had to go to Greenland to get straightened out. He writes to us when Yom Kippur rolls around,” Simon said, looking around the room for any other embarrassing features he left lying around. Of course this was Raphael Santiago, the guy he was half in love with, so everything made Simon want to just set it aflame never to be seen again.

Raphael smiled, and looked back at the photo. “Are you going to the graduation ceremony?”

“Nope,” Simon said. “Why? Are you?”

“Yes,” Raphael sighed, turning away from the photo and plopping down on the armchair. “I’m reading out the second half of the alphabet.”

Simon winced and sat down on the couch again. There was the usual churning in his stomach whenever Raphael ran a hand through his damp hair or smiled, but they had fallen back into their usual rhythm within one conversation.

The rain didn’t let up until around 2:30 am.

--

The next morning was rough, to say the least, but luckily it would be an easy day. Just reminding the kids that all they had to do was study for their exams and help with any last minute questions. Making all his classes take a picture with him. Wishing them good luck. The usual end of the year stuff.

He looked up when he was startled by the door opening. Raphael walked through his room, giving him a curt smile before heading off to his Spanish class.

Simon could only stare after him. He had somehow forgiven this man for weeks of frustration and pain. There was still the ever persisting question as to why Raphael had even done what he did. He been mulling over the question since that first night when Raphael had last dropped him off at his house, and had at least a million reasons, but no definite answer. But that would involve asking the question. Aloud. To Raphael. He decided against that plan as soon as it popped into his head. Maybe one day it would come up in a casual conversation.

When he came back from giving the head of his department the borrowed calculators he had collected, having had to wait on one kid from his fifth period to finally bring it back from his car, there was an email waiting for him in his inbox from Raphael. There was no subject and only a phone number was in the body.

When he texted the number with a question mark he half expected an error message as a reply, instead he got a, ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ and almost dropped his phone on the spot.  

--

Simon was walking around his house all Saturday, cleaning where he could and trying to get a game plan for the summer ready when he heard his phone buzz. He was expecting it to be either Clary or his sister asking if he wanted lunch. Instead it was from Raphael. He felt his heart kick him in the ribs as his fingers fumbled to unlock his phone.

From Raphael: Are you doing Summer School?

How did people go about texting edicate again? He let his phone sit next to him while he did the dishes. Sometimes he would open his phone, letting his thumbs hover over the letters until he set it back down and continued on with his home improvements.

Eventually he came back to it, annoyed with himself that he had taken hours to reply.

To Raphael: nope. no one’s asked me to.

He threw his phone face down into the sofa as soon as he hit send. It buzzed as soon as he went to walk away. Simon turned back around and fished for his phone underneath the pillows.

From Raphael: Then what are you doing for the next two months?

Simon let out a sharp breath of amusement through his nose and smiled.

To Raphael: I thought you said you didn’t text.

--

There was always a teacher’s appreciation lunch on the last Tuesday of each semester. It was one of the many things Simon looked forwards to. Maybe it was the free food. Maybe it was sitting around the other teachers listening to the end of the year rants and comparing notes on mutual students, but he loved it. The spring one was never as fun as the winter one due to the holiday festivities the administration made them do, but it was still fun nonetheless.

He got his plate of food and plopped down in front of Clary, ready to tell her about how boring his exams were going when someone else sat down next to him. He watched Clary’s confused expression turn into a confused smile before he turned to see who it was.

Lily Chen, a History teacher, was staring hard at him. He’d never actually spoken to her, only heard the stories and tales from other teachers and the passing name between his students. Raphael had mentioned her plenty of times, and he’d come to the conclusion that she was his favorite in the department since he only called the other History teachers by their last names.

“Uh, hello,” he said, glancing at Clary who gave a one shoulder shrug.

“You’re Simon Lewis?” she asked, eyebrows raising.

“Yes?”

“Huh,” she said. Lily narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as she scanned him over. He glanced down at himself, plaid, jeans, tennis shoes, no stains, and only the slight wrinkles from not folding his clothes when they came out of the dryer.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, “did I do something?”

“No,” she said, turning to her food. “I just wanted to see who you were. Raphael wouldn’t shut up about you yesterday when we were trying to grade the final exam essays.”

Simon faltered at that, feeling his cheeks grow warm and his heart start to thump away in his chest. He felt Clary’s stare on him.

“What?” Lily said around a bite of food.

“Nothing,” Simon squeaked, turning back to his own food. He took a firm grip onto his hopes, not allowing them to take off. Raphael could have been complaining about Simon for all he knew. Clary introduced herself, saving Simon from Lily’s stare. Izzy eventually found them, turning the conversation from awkward to light.

When the lunch was over and everyone started heading back to their respective classrooms, Lily walked in step with him back to their building. He kept glancing sideways at her, wondering whether he was supposed to speak first or she was supposed to call him out, but in the end they were both silent until the passed by Raphael’s Spanish classroom where he was sitting at his desk, oblivious to what was happening beyond his room.

She followed Simon into his own classroom and shut the door behind them.

“What’re you doing tonight?” she asked, pinning Simon down with a hard stare.

He shrugged. “Probably-”

“Good. Ragnor, Raphael, and I are going to dinner. You’re coming, too.”

“Me?”

“No, the other person in the room,” she smiled. “Of course. I’ll get Raphael to tell you where to meet us.”

“Are you sure?” he called after her when she turned to make her way back to her own classroom.

“See you tonight!”

--

When he got home both Izzy and Clary were waiting in Clary’s car on his curb.

“Why do you get home so late?” Clary asked, stepping out of her door as Simon shut his own.

“Why are you here?”

“We want to hear why Lily Chen sat with us today,” Izzy said as they followed him up the path to his house.

Simon sighed, unlocked his door, and held the door open for them to enter.

“That’s great!” Izzy said when he laid out everything that had happened that week. Including being invited to dinner that night. “I can’t believe you guys worked everything out.”

“Well,” Simon shrugged. “Not everything.”

“What do you mean?” Clary asked, leaning an elbow on the couch’s arm and resting her cheek against her hand.

“I mean, I never asked why he ignored me.”

“Oh,” Izzy frowned. “I thought you said he showed up to your house. At night. In the rain.”

“He has a flare for being dramatic.”

“And you two didn’t…,” Izzy made a hand gesture and Simon stared until he understood.

“No!” He felt his cheeks warm. “We just talked.”

“But not about the elephant in the room,” Clary said.

“I mean, about Camille, but not about the past few weeks.”

“So you just acted like it never happened?”

“Right.” They had efficiently ignored the subject of Raphael’s absence and Simon had gone with it for the past week because he had been so scared of Raphael peacing out on him again. And maybe that was just it, the thought of him leaving for good. The pain from that would probably kill him at this point. And he knew it was stupid, thinking that made him feel stupid about the whole thing. He had somehow fallen hard and didn’t even know where Raphael sat with him, and there Simon was, utterly ruined for anyone else because he couldn’t get the memory of Raphael’s voice in the morning out of his mind.

“Boys,” Izzy scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

“I don’t want to bring it up and risk going back to that,” Simon said. “We break for summer in a day and if I say anything he’ll have two months to avoid me. Not to mention Magnus’s party would be super awkward. No way.”

“But I thought you liked him?” Clary said.

“I…,” Simon rubbed his palms against his thighs, trying to get the sweat off. “I’m fine with being friends.”

“You shouldn’t just roll over for him, Simon,” Izzy said. “He’s cocky enough as it is. I know you like him and don’t want to get hurt again, but I’ll be damned if I see you not acting for what you deserve. And what you deserve is an explanation.”

Clary agreed with an enthusiastic nod of her head.

“Alright,” Simon said finally. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

--

Lily had ended up texting him the address of the restaurant, saying she had gotten his number from Raphael. He pulled up, hoping he was dressed appropriately from his research on the place, and had to take a few breaths before working up the courage to walk inside. Lily waved him over to a table that only held herself and who he assumed to be Ragnor Fell.

“So this is Simon Lewis,” the man said when Simon sat down at the table. He held out his hand, which Simon shook. “I’m Ragnor Fell.”

Simon smiled and gave a curt wave that was awkward and unnecessary. Ragnor Fell was another chemistry professor at the university about a half hour from them. He’d only ever heard stories from Izzy about him when he would visit Magnus, but had never seen him outside of pictures online.

“Hi,” he said, nodding to Lily who sat next to him.

“He’s much better looking than Magnus portrayed him to be,” Ragnor said, exchanging a glance with Lily who shrugged. “And he’s…?”

“Yes. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I just wanted to be sure.”

Lily laughed. “That’s true, you’re the one who thought Magnus was dating Raphael just because they were living together.”

He watched Ragnor scowl at her before turning back to Simon with a polite smile. “It’s nice you meet you, Simon. I’ve heard a lot about you. Hard to believe I’m just now meeting you.”

Lily scoffed.

“Uh, thank you,” he said. “It’s good to put your name to your face, too.”

“So Raphael’s told you about me then?”

“Only here and there. I’ve mostly heard about you from Izzy. Magnus’s boyfriend’s sister.”

“Ah. Well, only good things I should hope?”

“Of course,” Simon assured. “So, where is Raphael?”

“Late,” Ragnor sighed, picking up his drink. He reminded Simon of Raphael by personality. Not so much the first layer of arrogance, but the more cranky and annoyed type. “But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Simon just nodded, lacing his fingers together. He answered any questions thrown at him with better nerve than he expected from himself. Lily’s phone started ringing half way through his explanation of how he went into teaching.

“It’s Raphael,” she said before answering it.

“Well,” Ragnor said, catching Simon’s attention again, “you’re much more than everyone has said about you. I approve.”

“Approve? Of wha-”

“He got lost,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “How does someone get lost with GPS?”

“You know he’s technologically challenged. Tell him we’re eating without him then,” Ragnor said, signalling to their waitress.

--

Their exam schedule was from Tuesday to Friday, each day starting from 9:00am and going to 1:00pm. There were two exams a day lasting two hours each, except Friday which was thankfully only one exam. Simon watched his sixth period file out of his room that Thursday for the last time he would probably see the majority of them and started on the grading process so he could get the final exam grades in as soon as possible.

He barely got his grading pen out before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

From Raphael: Are you hungry?

Simon glanced up at the door from his room that led to the hallway where Raphael was probably sitting in his Spanish room.

To Raphael: nope, i have a packed lunch and a stack of tests.

From Raphael: Is it not just on a scantron you run through the machine?

To Raphael: i tried to ask for all multiple choice but they wanted half free response.

Simon waited for a response for another couple of minutes, tapping his pen against the desk.

To Raphael: i could always use the company. If you want.

The front door to his classroom opened a few moments later. Raphael pulled up a chair to Simon’s desk and made the grading process another hour long for Simon with his eyebrows and having to lick his lips instead of using the napkin that was literally sitting under his hand.

Not that he was complaining.

--

The last day of school was always a doozy. Between signing last minute yearbooks with as much heart and soul as he could put into three to five sentences and taking pictures with students who requested it, watching them pile out of the room to reach the parking lot before the traffic could keep them in their car for another half hour, there always seemed to be something that kept what should be a short sweet day anything but.

Lucky for Simon, this year he still had paperwork to file and tests to grade and get the scores in before the end of the day. It went pretty quick once he got into the rhythm of grading. The last thing he had to do was make a few copies for the day, and hopefully it would be nothing but smooth sailing from there.

The trek across campus was a quiet one, without the students around anymore the school would be a calm structure with the select few walking around its hallways and sitting in its rooms. He’d always thought it to be vacant in the summers when he was still in the school system as a student, but seeing the other side he knew there was always someone doing their job in a school building, even during the depths of the summer vacation.

He flicked on the light to the copy room where the hunk of metal that fueled many of his nightmares sat waiting for him. There was a love-hate relationship he had going on with the copy machine. Due to the lack of public school fundings they were stuck with something that looked like it a fridge with more buttons. Sometimes it would add staples and print the right amount of papers, other times Simon felt like taking it out into a field and smashing it open with a baseball bat like the heros of Office Space .

Simon could only hope that it would work with him for this last task of the year. After a couple of frustrating rounds, touch and go moments where he swore he had finally killed the thing, the machine did it’s job. He let out a sigh of relief and started his way back to his room, ready to gather his things and head home to get started reading up on the AP Exam for next year.

He hesitated when he returned to his room at the sight of the connecting door between his and Raphael’s rooms. Izzy word’s tugged him forwards, one step at a time. He dropped off his papers on his desk and moved slowly towards the door, rubbing his hands together, adjusting his shirt. A bit of courage tangled his thoughts together as he moved forwards to peer through the window.

Raphael was sitting at his desk, clicking away at his computer, eyes totally focused on the screen. He knocked on the door gently as to not startle the other man and waited. Raphael looked up towards his main door with a confused expression. Simon knocked again and his head snapped to look at Simon, he waved and made some sort of gesture that got his point across because Raphael flicked his head, motioning for Simon to enter.

It took him a second to realize he’d never done it before. It had only ever been Raphael bursting into Simon’s room, never the other way around. He’d seen the room through the window, but he’d never had the occasion or excuse to visit Raphael in his room. The walls were littered with maps and posters. They weren’t the usual ‘Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you’ll land among the stars!!’ posters teachers had up. They were real pictures of real people throughout the course of history. Most of them triggered a vague memory from Simon’s past history courses.

“Simon?” Raphael asked, bringing him back to the task at hand. And why, why , did this man always have to look so good? Even on the last day of school, the last day that was two hours long, he was so well put together. He was beginning to think he had sold his soul for his clothes and ability to style.

“Uh, right,” Simon swallowed, trying to relieve his dry mouth. “I just...wanted to ask you something.”

Raphael raised his eyebrows.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat and panicked. “Are you going to Magnus’s party?”

Raphael paused for a long moment, studying Simon. He immediately felt awkward and too big for his clothes and a little bit like throwing up. “He’s got me on care-taker duty.”

“On what?”

“I have to be the designated driver and make sure no one kills themselves or sets the house on fire.”

“Oh. The Mom.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Simon shrugged. “I’ll see you there.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Simon smiled and walked back into his room, hitting his head against the door when he closed it.

--

He felt a nervous jitter in his stomach all throughout the afternoon and evening. Whenever Izzy or Clary texted him about the party that night he would get a feeling in his veins, as if his blood had been carbonated.

“So?” Izzy asked when he shut the door to Clary’s car. They picked him up to go to Magnus’s end of the year party for the staff. It was a big shindig he threw at the end of each school year, a little like his New Year’s party, but this was bigger. Magnus would even invite teachers from other schools to come. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yes.” He answered, because it wasn’t a lie.

“And?” she said, her voice going up a few octaves.

“He said he was going to the party.”

Both Clary and Izzy groaned.

“Simon, you promised!”

“I know,” he sighed, “I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know what happened.”

“Then you’re asking him at the party.”

“No way!”

“You promised,” Izzy countered, turning in the passenger seat to eye him from over the shoulder of the seat. “You aren’t a promise breaker are you?”

Simon slumped in his seat. “No.”

“Good. Then you know what you have to do. And if I’m not sober enough to listen to you tonight, I’ll make sure to check on you tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Clary chimed in.

Simon groaned and knocked his head against the window.

--

The party was nothing like he had expected the first time he had been dragged along. There wasn’t a sad air, the music wasn’t soft, wine wasn’t the drink of choice. Just because they’d all hit an age where drinking the night away was behind them didn’t mean they didn’t want to let loose once in awhile.

Hell, this year Simon saw Mr. Morrison standing in the midst of a crowd with a cup in each hand, laughing. He turned to point him out to Clary only to find both she and Izzy had got swept away by the crowd. He shrugged and shouldered his way to the kitchen.

“Simon!”

He turned to find Magnus grinning at him, dressed in an outfit that could only look good on Magnus Bane, makeup on point, and hair without a flaw. Simon smiled.

“Hey.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“You haven’t happened to have seen Alexander, have you?”

Simon shook his head, eyes scanning the crowd. There was no overly tall, annoyed looking guy that he could see. “Can’t say I have.”

“Yes, well,” Magnus sighed and gave Simon’s shoulder a soft pat. “Enjoy yourself.”

“You, too.” he said, but if Magnus heard him he didn’t make any indication as he made his way back into the crowd of dancing teachers.

Had Simon been one of their students he would have been freaked the hell out, but since he was just a coworker he was mildly confused but mostly entertained to see the other half of the people he worked with.

He found Lydia in the mists.

“Simon!” she yelled over the music. “How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m swell. Where-?”

“Simon,” he turned, startled at the sound of someone’s voice on the back of his neck. Raphael stood behind him, a smirk on his lips.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Simon said, clutching a hand to his chest and sucking in the breath he had lost.

“If you paid better attention to your surroundings, maybe you wouldn’t have that problem,” Raphael said, his eyebrows raising slightly. His eyes turned from Simon to Lydia. “Branwell.”

“Hi,” Lydia replied, a sting to her tone. Raphael returned back to Simon.

“When did you get here?”

“Uh,” Simon glanced at the door. “Maybe five minutes ago?”

“Alright,” Raphael said, glancing at Lydia again. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Well, if I do, I’ll make sure to find you,” Simon said, “you are The Mom tonight, after all.”

“And I’ll make sure to drop you off at your mother’s house.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” Raphael smiled. He moved on, bumping into Simon’s shoulder as he passed enough to make Simon lose his footing and move backwards. He shook his head and turned back to Lydia.

She frowned at him. “No offence, Simon, but he seems a little too pompous.”

Simon shrugged. “Maybe at first, but I think that’s just an act most of the time.”

“An act?”

“Yeah, you know,” Simon shrugged, checking every which way to make sure the other teacher wasn’t within hearing distance. “Play the tough guy, keep a guard up. It puts people off.”

“You can say that again,” Lydia said. But she smiled and put a hand on his arm. “I hope it works out for you though. Whether it’s with that guy or not.”

Simon nodded, feeling his throat tighten. What a terrifying thought. To be happy with someone else. Not to just have someone, but to know what they’re like in the morning and calling them from the store to ask if they need any toothpaste or all of a sudden having a whole new branch of family to see. It hit him like a train right in the pit of his stomach. Sure, there were unspeakable things he wouldn’t mind doing to Raphael, but the decidedly more terrifying things were the things that were the mundane, normal things that came with any relationship were what he found himself craving. Helping one another on school assignments, picking out new sheets, bickering over what movie, dragging themselves out of bed in the morning.

He swallowed hard against the feeling and plastered a smile to his lips as Lydia dragged him around the room. Simon was constantly on edge, every time he saw someone shorter than himself with dark hair he ducked behind Lydia, only to see that they weren’t who he had been dreading, hoping, to see.

--

Eventually he relaxed. He talked with other teachers, laughed at the throwback music, and even danced when Lydia drug him out.

A few hours passed and Simon had done his due diligence as the designated driver as to not drink. But he had gotten a vague text from Clary saying she and Izzy had left early. He could imagine as to why and quickly put a damper on that, not wanting to imagine it. The only thing was he was stuck at Magnus’s house until they came back to get him.

Whenever that might.

The crowd was split between the backyard and the living room. He headed for the former half, needing fresh air after being talked at by an English teacher who was in need of gum. Simon could hear chaos erupt from the back porch and opened the door just in time to see Raphael throw a punch.

There was a lot of yelling and a few people trying to break up the fight, but it wasn’t until Simon had his arms wrapped around Raphael’s chest that he pulled the two apart.

Raphael gasped against Simon’s grip, “Let me go,” he said but Simon just held on tighter.

Magnus came out a moment later, took one look at Raphael before turning his attention to the other guy. Simon let go of Raphael, but stepped in front of him, keeping his path to the other guy blocked somewhat.

Simon recognized him to be a fellow math teacher. AP Statistics, James Waters. He was roughly the same age as them and Simon had had a bad taste in his mouth about the guy since he found one of his students crying in the hallway about something he had said to her in front of her whole class.

Magnus talked to him for another minute. Simon watched on as Waters scowled and made his way back inside, Magnus following to what Simon assumed was to make sure he made his way out of the house.

Simon sighed in relief and turned back to Raphael.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, eyes focused on the blood running out of Raphael’s nose and dripping onto his jacket and shirt.

“Thanks,” he muttered before taking off towards to entrance to the house. Simon followed after him, avoiding the door slamming in his face.

“What the hell was that?” Simon asked.

“Leave me alone, Simon,” Raphael said over his shoulder. But Simon continued to walk after him, all the way to the back bathroom where no one was passed out or making out in, much to their luck.

“Here,” Simon said, moving to the paper towels only to be blocked by Raphael’s arm across the door frame.

“I said leave me alone,” Raphael growled. Simon blinked before moving underneath his arm, grabbing the paper towels off the vanity.

“Don’t tilt your head back,” Simon said, ignoring the angry glare Raphael is giving him, “it’ll just go down your throat. Pinch the bridge of your nose and relax so your blood won’t be pumping so fast.”

Raphael grabbed the paper towels from his hand when Simon made a motion to press it to Raphael’s nose himself. “Thank you for your insightful advice, now get out of here.”

“No.” Simon said, leaning back against the vanity.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know what the hell just happened.”

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Simon scoffed. “I doubt that. You looked like you could have killed that guy.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Raphael said, gritting his teeth. Simon winced, knowing it probably hurt. He made a mental note to get ice after he got an explanation.

“Then if it doesn’t matter, why don’t you tell me?”

“Go back to the party.”

Simon huffed. “I’m just trying to help you. You aren’t like Brendon Conton in Warrior are you?”

“I never asked you for you help,” Raphael snarled. The napkins in his hand bleeding through. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t because you won’t just say what happened.” Simon said, trying to get a grip on his anger. “What’s the big deal? He was probably drunk off his ass spouting random bull.”

“He wasn’t drunk,” Raphael said, pulling new paper towels off the roll, bloodied fingerprints left in the struggle. He switched from the dirty to the clean, from the looks of it the blood flow was slowing down.

“So what did he say?”

Raphael caught his gaze for a long, tense moment. He sighed and Simon felt the tension run out of him with it. “I’m not going to repeat his words, but he called you a few names and said...things.”

“About me? ” Raphael nodded, glancing up at him. “I barely know the guy. I talked to him once and it was to make him apologize to a student he made cry.”

“I know,” Raphael said, his tone turning aggressive again. “I just-. The thought of him and you-.”

“Why?” Simon asked because he had too. Raphael’s face was intense, even with the paper towels clamped around his nose.  

“Why?” Raphael repeated, his voice struggling. “You want to know why?”

Simon flinched back when Raphael took a hard step forwards. He closed his eyes tightly, expecting something painful, but was instead met with something else entirely. It took him a moment, or rather several, to realize what the hell was happening. Raphael was kissing him, his brain supplied at the pressure on his lips and the tug he felt on his jacket. But just like it had started it was over and Raphael pulled away making Simon open his eyes. His glasses were slightly off center and Raphael was looking at him, mouth open, eyes wide, chest heaving; waiting. Simon was very still, nothing but a taught line of nervous energy.

Something clicked, something finally fell into place, and Simon didn’t care to make sense of it. He let out a loud breath and dove forwards, slotting his mouth back to Raphael’s. He tilted his head, furrowing his brow, and just devouring whatever Raphael had to offer. Simon wrapped an arm around Raphael’s shoulders, pulling him closer to him until their chests bumped and knees collide.  His other hand snaked its way around Raphael’s waist, anchoring him with a fist full of the finely pressed shirt at the small of Raphael’s back.

He felt something against his cheek and gave enough brain power towards the conundrum to realize it was Raphael’s hand. Raphael ran a thumb across his cheekbone while his palm cupped Simon’s jaw and his fingers tugged at the hair just behind his ear. The soft touch was disorienting against the heat of the kiss.He felt something fracture within him when Raphael made a low sound in his chest making Simon gasp.

Suddenly the kiss was deepened and Simon was having a very hard time remembering why red lights were going off in the back of his mind because this was Raphael that was kissing him and running his fingertips under Simon’s shirt making him move closer to the all consuming heat that was Raphael. Like seriously, was the guy a radiator?

It was when he could taste that always familiar copper tang on his tongue, and feel the vanity digging into his thighs did he realize what his brain was trying to tell him.

He pulled away from Raphael’s mouth, reluctantly, and watched as Raphael followed after him, feeling a tight knot in his stomach when Raphael stiffened and starting to pull back when he didn’t feel Simon’s answer. Leaning forwards he pressed his forehead to Raphael’s with a hand on the nape of his neck. He felt the other teacher relax against him, his hands grabbing onto Simon’s shirt.

“Not here,” Simon said in between pants, trying to offer some sort of explanation. He fixed his glasses when he opened his eyes.

Raphael nodded. They stood there for another moment, breathing in one another’s air, until Raphael eventually pulled away. He only stood a couple of inches away, but it was enough for Simon to have to settle his hands on Raphael’s wrists. Simon tried to step closer but Raphael backed away. It made Simon flinch, an apology ready to leap out of his mouth, an escape route forming in his mind. But Raphael tugged on his hands, flexing his fingers against Simon’s. The soft touch of Raphael’s fingers against his skin was nothing but feather light, but he knew he had been right. Raphael had ruined him for anyone else. He was the only person Simon wanted. He could leave again, right then, and Simon would still want him.

“Sorry,” Raphael said, his voice rough and low, as if someone had taken sandpaper to it. His pupils were blown wide taking up most of the room from the brown. Simon felt his throat clench at the thought that Simon had done that to him. Simon . He watched as Raphael motioned to his nose, the bleeding had stopped but the blood had been yet to be cleaned.Simon nodded in understanding and turned to wet a paper towel.

He kept his eyes focused on Raphael’s skin, only glancing up once or twice to find Raphael’s eyes dead set on him. His hands were busy moving back and forth between wringing out a paper towel to cleaning up the blood stained skin while Raphael’s hands were a constant presence on him. They moved when he moved but never lost contact until Simon plucked them from his being to clean the blood there, too.

“There,” Simon said when he finished examining him for anymore blood spots. “I think you’re good. Besides your clothes.”

“Thank you,” Raphael said. Simon looked up to catch his stare. He held it this go around.

“Can I ask you something?” Simon asked. He still had a promise to keep. Raphael nodded. “Why did you cut me off from you last month?”

He watched as Raphael stiffened, backing away into the shadow he hid himself under. He gripped onto the hand he was still holding, hoping it was a reassuring touch and not something he had lost permission to with a few select words.

“I was scared.”

Simon froze at those words and stared openly at the other man. Raphael’s head was bowed, throat and jaw working as he waited for Simon’s reply.

“Scared?” Simon repeated, at a lack for his own wording. Raphael looked up, catching Simon’s eyes before looking away again.

“I’ve made mistakes, Simon. I’ve hurt people. I didn’t- don't want to do that again.”

“Okay, hold on,” Simon said, shifting his weight on his feet. “So, you’re telling me you didn’t talk to me because you were afraid to be in a relationship with me?”

He watched as Raphael nodded.

“We’re so stupid,” he said with a short burst of laughter. “And you’re being serious about this right?”

“Why would I lie about something like this?”

Simon shrugged suddenly feeling very self aware all of a sudden. The music was suddenly filling up his head and the sounds of other people were too loud. There was the sudden feeling that maybe he should be the one to retreat and go back to something that was familiar, something he knew he could control. But they had kissed? And Raphael had acted like he had liked it, had liked that Simon was the one doing it. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe he was just fucking with Simon to further whatever mind game he was playing here?

Maybe he was Freddie Prinze Jr. and Simon was Rachael Leigh Cook and this was all one big bet that ended in humiliation instead of the happy ending.

“We aren’t in high school anymore,” Raphael said and, oh, Simon must have said that aloud.

“Technically we still are,” he replied, sarcasm his brain’s one and only default for safety. Raphael sighed.

“Stop talking,” Raphael said, taking a step closer, making Simon back up into the sink once more. “I want to make this work.”

Simon felt his knees buckle underneath him.

“Even if you are insufferable.”

“Hey!” Raphael smiled at him and Simon couldn’t help but return it. “So, this is it, right? We’re going to be overly gross in public and eat lunch together at work if we have the same time off, and eventually move in with one another as we complain about the school system for years to come?”

“If that’s what you want,” Raphael agreed. “As long as I don’t have to wake up as early as you.”

“But how would we get to school?”

“Separate cars?”

“And kill the environment even more so? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not getting to school five hours earlier than I need to.”

"I still have to meet your mother."

"Don't remind me," Raphael said, his tone nothing but warm.

Simon laughed and pressed forwards, planting a soft kiss to Raphael’s lips simply because he could and because Raphael would answer with more gusto than was expected. Simon pulled back, having to put a hand on Raphael’s chest.

“You’re the designated Mom,” Simon panted, making a noise when Raphael pressed his face into Simon’s shoulder. Raphael grumbled something unrecognizable into Simon’s shirt. “Come on.”

Raphael held a very murderous expression on his face as Simon pushed him back out into the party.

“I’ll take you home,” Raphael said, still having a grip on a fist-full of Simon’s shirt. He started to say he couldn’t, that he still had to take Clary and Izzy home, but remembered the text he had gotten earlier and nodded instead. Raphael stared at him for a moment longer before pulling away and moving effortlessly through the crowd.

--

The party eventually died down, most people either having left or were passed out somewhere around the house. There had only been one other incident with an English teachers trying leave through a window on the second story, but other than that it went smoothly.

Simon was standing in the kitchen when Raphael came through the door.

"Hey-," he started, stopping when Raphael grabbed onto his shirt sleeve and pulled, not slowing down his pace. He dragged Simon out to his car and took off into the night. He stayed silent as the radio took up most of the noise in the car. He only dared to glance at Raphael twice through the whole drive. Both times he was the vision of concentration, eyes on the road, knuckles gripped tightly on the steering wheel.

Even when they pulled up to Simon’s house they were both silent getting out of the car and walking up to his front door.

Simon shut the door behind them and turned, mouth open to say some kind of icebreaker but found himself shoved up against the front door, mouth otherwise occupied.

“Finally,” he heard Raphael sigh, and smiled against his mouth.

--

Simon woke up slowly the next morning, a familiar tickle against his nose making his eyes blink open. He squinted, shuffled for his glasses, and caught his breath at the sight of Raphael sleeping next to him.

Only this morning, he didn’t have to panic and roll away, he didn’t have to pretend to be asleep or feel his heart thump in his chest for any other reason but happiness.

Coffee, his mind supplied him with, Raphael would need coffee when he woke up.

But for now, Simon settled back down into the blankets and pressed into Raphael’s side. His thoughts thanking Luke for moving his room in the first place.

--

“I’ll see you later then?” Simon asked, walking Raphael to the door. It was an odd, yet comforting sight to see Raphael completely disheveled. His clothes from the night before were slightly rumpled and his hair was curly. He would get familiar with it eventually. He'd have to get use to any state Raphael would be in. Simon smiled at the thought. 

“Here,” Raphael looked around Simon’s foyer before spotting the pen and paper he kept on the small table where he usually put his keys and wallet. He scribbled something down and pressed it into Simon’s hand. “My address. Come by tomorrow. I’ll cook you dinner.”

“You can cook?” Simon asked, watching him walk out the door, his chest squeezing at the sight, but brain reminding him that he would be back, that he would see him again.

“Yes, don’t act so surprised,” Raphael smiled, he pressed a kiss to the side of Simon’s mouth. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Simon smiled. "I'll bring Star Wars." He waited until he couldn’t see Raphael’s car anymore before he shut the door.

Simon looked down at the piece of paper, glancing at it, and went to tuck it into his pocket before something stopped him. He pulled the paper back up, closer to his face. He hummed and moved to where his office was, pulling open the bottom drawer of his desk.

Scrambling slightly, making stacks of papers he probably should have recycled on the floor next to him, he finally found what he was looking for.

The lone Valentine’s Day card stared up at him from the bottom of the drawer, long forgotten. He carefully picked it up and opened it.

‘ Have a good day ,’ was still written inside. Simon looked back to the paper with Raphael’s address. ‘ 544 Dayside Ave. Aprt 23. Call me when you park .’

He stared at the handwriting for a long time before breaking out into a grin.

His phone buzzed.

From Izzy: u haven’t called yet.  Am I going to have to escort you to talk to him?

To Izzy: Already taken care of. B)