Young [G.D mini series]
Summary: Y/N had always had bad luck finding love, but it was wrong of her to feel things for the troubled young student she was supposed to be counseling.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: age gap, smut, angst, mentions of death/suicide, etc.
A/N: I had this idea because my mind is nasty, and I’ve been looking for something like this. No luck, so why not write it? Gray is 17 and Y/N is 27 !! So don’t shit on me pls I’m just a girl.
My ears perked up at the sound of my name, and I stared up from my writing to see Mr. Greeley at the doorway to my office with coffee in his hands. He was a nice man, a handsome teacher in his mid-forties that I felt was a tad bit flirty with me at times. It was pretty early, and class was about to begin, but first I was getting prepared to meet up for the first time with a student and honestly, it was always a little overwhelming.
“Yes?” I asked, pushing my black-rimmed glasses up the tip of my nose with a smile. Well, as much as I could give him on a Monday morning.
Mr. Greeley happily came in and sat down on one of the two chairs across from me, but not before leaving one of the coffee cups on top of my desk. I thanked him for it, actually glad to have some caffeine, especially after reading about who the student was.
Grayson Bailey Dolan.
“So, how is everything with counselling going?” he asked, bringing one leg up to rest on the other’s knee. Probably to make himself seem cooler. Too bad I wasn’t interested.
“Not easy,” I laughed, moving some of my papers around.
“Must be. Hell, I’d be praying before dealing with that Dolan kid.”
I raised my brows, setting my pen down to fold my hands together on top of the table. How did he know he was my next student? It must’ve been talked about, which annoyed me. This was a high school, yes, but did gossip still need to be spread around within the circle of adults?
I always liked being professional, and I didn’t want certain things - bad things - to be said about any student. Many were misunderstood, and I was so sure Grayson was one of them. I’d seen him around, and to me he looked like he mainly kept to himself. However, his grades, discipline, and detention marks said otherwise. I knew he’d be difficult to break, but I wanted to help as best as I could, and nothing was going to scare me away.
“Okay, don’t give me that look, I’m just warning you. He’s a tough little guy.”
“Then I’ll deal with him.” Really, I didn’t need him to tell me. I’d been doing this and dealing with various types of students for years now. I’d cracked the toughest ones, and it was always a challenge I was willing to do every single time.
Mr. Greeley chuckled, rubbing at his jaw. “Hope he’s nicer than he normally is. Smart-ass mouth he’s got.”
“What do you people have against a student?” I asked defensively, eyes narrowed.
He let out another little laugh that was starting to make my blood boil. I didn’t want to deal with this when Grayson would make his way in soon. I wanted to make him feel comfortable and at safe - it was completely shitty that the teachers had no remorse. Maybe he was a difficult person and all they could learn to do was dislike him, but talking behind his back instead of confronting him respectfully or trying to reach out wasn’t the way to go.
His mom was the one to come and talk to me about this, worrying about her son as a mother should - so every Monday and Wednesday, maybe Fridays if I had time, I’d speak to Grayson before classes started at 8.
“I think you should go, Mr. Greeley,” I said in a stern tone, looking back down at my paperwork with a straight face. “Thank you for the coffee, I won’t thank you for your input when I never asked. Grayson should be here any minute.”
The AP Biology teacher gave me a look in silence before standing to his feet without a word and leaving.
Taking a deep breath, I stood to my feet and made my way out of my office behind him. I walked out with my tall black heels clicking against the floors to where a few students were sitting outside in the chairs, waiting, and skimmed my eyes around to look for this specific boy.
He was sitting with his long legs outstretched and his backpack in between them on the ground. His brown hair, short at the sides and floppy at the front, was a mess - like he’d previously been running his fingers through. He wore everything black, his jacket, his shirt, his jeans, his boots - but those glowing brown-green eyes popped out more than anything to me.
“Grayson?” I called after clearing my throat, seeing him stare up at me. His bright eyes went over my legs, up to my hips tucked into a tight black skirt, and I didn’t even want to talk about his lingering gaze upon finding my exposed chest in my red blouse.
I gave him a sincere smile, heart suddenly leaping at a quick rate when he made eye contact before reaching for his backpack to stand.
Seeing him up close, only breaths away, for some reason reminded me of Mr. Greeley’s words. Little guy. Grayson certainly wasn’t little, in fact if I ever saw him in public, I’d think he was three years older than he actually was. He was tall and extremely muscular, even bigger than my tiny form. I was 27 years old and yet it seemed like I didn’t age after turning 20. I guess it was a good thing, although the way that I dressed definitely told everyone I was old enough.
“Come on in, have a seat.” I held the door open for him and he left a nice smell in his way. I gently closed the door and made my way to my own seat at my desk while he made himself as comfortable as he could. He basically sat the exact same way as he did outside, just looking a little more bored. “How are you today?”
His deep voice was a little muffled due to the fist resting on his cheek. “Tired.”
I nodded, the smile still on my face so that I could appear friendly to him instead of strict or scary. “I understand it’s early. It was the only way I could squeeze you in for the time being.” I took a pause to look over the countless amount of papers I had scattered around. For some reason, I was shaking a little, especially under his intense gaze. The sunlight coming through the windows behind me gave his beautiful eyes even more of a glow. They were greener there. “So, how’s school going?” Typical question, but I had to start with him somewhere. Baby steps. I wasn’t going to blurt out and immediately ask him what the hell was going on in his personal life.
When he didn’t answer, I looked up to see his attention elsewhere - eyes looking outside at the parking lot for the main entrance.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and ran my tongue over my inner bottom lip slightly. “Your grades are okay. However, they’re going down very quickly. Is there anything specific that you find difficult? We can start with that.”
“Do you think you’d need a tutor?”
That’s when he smirked, making eye contact with me again. I don’t know what it was about it, but he made it so incredibly intense. He didn’t move his gaze away, it was like he was staring deep deep into me.
I guess this was the difficult part.
“Why, are you volunteering to help?”
The subject was about tutoring, yet the way he said it made it seem like much more. Maybe I was looking too far into it, knowing how some of these young boys acted or would often have hidden messages in their sentences when speaking to me. I wasn’t bad looking, but far younger than any of the other female workers and these boys were extremely hormonal.
“We can have a student do it. Or you can speak to your teachers–”
“They all hate me,” he cut me off, and since he had his head slightly down, his eyes were hooded and underneath it looked darker with the shadow given.
I frowned, feeling bad that he knew. Of course he had to know that the way he acted wasn’t the best way to go about things, but why did he do it? And did he ever hear these adults speak about him or was it that obvious? “I’m sure they don’t, Grayson. You’re just…” I tried to find the right word whilst also trying not to give into the gossip and terrible talk about him. No one knew anything. Grayson was the only one who knew who he was. “Different.”
It was the oldest one in the book, but it was true.
Grayson didn’t respond to that, going to lick his bottom lip before biting down on it. I tried my best to stay focused, instead noticing how his hand came down to rub at his clothed thigh before he sank down a little to place both hands in front of him, practically cupping his crotch area. He kept his lips in a straight line, but the chiseled, straight jawline was clenching.
How was a teenage boy that attractive?
Focus. What the hell are you doing? What the hell is he doing?
“What do they call me around here, Miss…?” He trailed off, and with a sigh, I tapped my desk plate that had my name written on it. Grayson’s eyes shifted to it, and I thought he wouldn’t bother to read it. When he did say my name, it sent shivers down my spine and I nearly squirmed in my seat. Fuck.
“Troublemaker? Smartass? Fuckboy?”
Him choosing to swear didn’t affect me, I heard it on a daily basis - it was just the way that it was said yet again. It was mocking, almost.
“Grayson,” I warned him, not looking up at him and instead writing down what we needed to work with. He was getting a little angry, as well as a little red at the cheekbones and ears. I could tell that was one thing we were going to have to deal with. “I’m here with you, not them. And I believe you’re a good kid.”
“Deep down?” he asked, eyes slightly narrowing. “Deep, deep down,” he continued as he leaned forward, not hiding the fact that he was staring at my chest again when I moved my hair away. I knew my blouse tightly hugged my breasts that were in clear view for him, but I always thought it was a nice thing to wear. He was making me second guess myself, though.
I moved without a second thought to stretch my stiffening limbs, going to the front of my desk directly where he was mere inches away. “I’m here to help you, with anything and everything you need…”
“Not everything,” he mumbled, moving back to rest against the chair with his hand back on his crotch. I tried not to look directly there, knowing I had to keep it professional. Keep everything professional.
“Really, anything. Schoolwork, advice, or to talk about anything you’d like.” I nodded, resting my bottom up on my desk to sit down and cross one leg over the other to get comfortable and possibly help him stop looking so stiff as well.
“Can I talk about how fucking tight my pants are right now,” he muttered, keeping his eyes away. I frowned and stared down out of curiosity, still seeing his hands covering himself. “Can we talk about you,” he suddenly shifted around the topic before I could question him to see if I’d heard right, his eyes on a picture of me with my closest friend sat on my desk to the left of me.
“You must have something interesting to hide.”
I furrowed my brows, keeping my cool. “Grayson, this is about you.”
He looked frustrated. “I’m not talking shit.”
“You’re gonna have to, I want to help.” That perfect jaw of his clenched again. “We don’t have to get deep into anything if you don’t want it yet… I don’t think you’re ready to, we just met. I mainly want to focus on your grades right now, your career, et cetera. Do you do any sports?”
He shook his head. His large built told me otherwise, but I guess he simply worked out.
“Don’t like it?”
“Don’t like the people.”
“Understandable, not your type of scene. I’ll be honest, maybe that’ll help a bit with getting into a college if you’re not big on grades. However, I do want you to possibly see a tutor as well…” This whole time, he made no comments and I was working with nothing. It was hard getting him to speak out, so I appreciated even the tiniest remarks.
We sat in that familiar silence once again when the first bell of the day rang. This wasn’t meant to drag on, merely ten to fifteen minutes for a start and as the days went on, we’d get more time together.
“Okay, looks like our time is up. It’s short for today, but I’ll always try to give us more time if you’re okay with that,” I commented, turning to go back to my chair.
“Thanks, this helped.” Shocked, I looked at him to see no sign of humor on his face. We barely spoke and I helped? Wow.
“Yeah,” he said, standing and placing his backpack on. “Because of that, I’m going home.”
“Wha–? Grayson–” I didn’t get to finish as he walked out. I couldn’t find the will to go after him and drag him to class where he needed to be.
Only one thing hit me when the door clicked shut: this was going to be far more difficult than I thought.