rugby stripes

First Language (Part 2) [a Sebastian Smythe imagine]

Request(s): ‘I formally request a part 2 of first language to bring me to life because I died at first read.’ + ‘Please please please do a part two of First Language!!!’

a/n: im gonna make this a series……hmmm………i gots an idea for pt 3

Part 1

“Je peux toujours conduire, vous savez (I can still drive, you know)…” Sebastian pouts, slumping further in the passenger seat. Focusing on the road, you reach for his hand, remembering the doctor’s advice. He needs to learn English again. “Nous retournerons à Dalton (are we going back to Dalton)?” he frowns, shrinking in his green and black striped rugby shirt. Honestly, he dresses like Finn

Your thumb rubs his knuckles, spinning the steering wheel. “I’m taking you to McKinley. I obviously can’t leave you alone; you freak out at everyone.” you deadpan, glancing at him; he blinks, frowning when you park the car. “And Dalton is an all boys school, so…your headmaster said I can teach you here and when you’re good, you’ll go back.” you smile, pecking his cheek after removing the keys.

When the two of you enter, Sebastian wrinkles his nose, watching bodies walk in front of him. “Je déteste l'odeur de l'école publique (I hate the smell of public school)…” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Shrugging it off as a complaint, you take his hand, dark brown flower print ruffled skirt hitting your mid thighs. “Où allons-nous (where are we going)?” he grumbles, converse squeaking as you pull him into a room.

“Mr. Shue!” you beam, tugging your brown t-shirt down. The curly haired teacher spins around, sheet music still in hand, mouth dropping at the sight of the Warbler. You tangle your arm in his, “You remember Sebastian….well, he’s gonna be here for a while so I can teach him…. English, again.” you grin, pulling your crochet mud brown beanie down the back of your head. “Is it okay if he sits in for glee club?” you ask, squinting as you cringe.

Sebastian stands awkwardly, “Salut (hi).” he mutters, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth.

Mr. Shue sighs, rubbing his forehead, “Sure. But, the club isn’t gonna like this….” he grumbles, going back to the sheet music.

Leading him to a chair, you bite your lip, running your hands through his hair. He ducks away, glaring at you playfully; the group starts coming in.  “Oh!” he mumbles, patting his blue skinny jeans, “As-tu vu mon téléphone portable (have you seen my cell phone)?” he asks, blinking. Your eyes light up and you push your backpack off your shoulders, pulling out his phone. “Merci (thanks).”

When Sebastian goes to grab it, you shake your head. “Cell phone.”

“Cell… phone…” he says slowly; you nod your head, handing him his phone. Puck and Mike stare, amused at the sight. “Qu'est-ce que tu regardes, idiots (what are you looking at, idiots)?” he snares, unlocking his phone. Luckily, the language is in French, so Sebastian doesn’t have to worry about that too.

Puck blinks, squaring his shoulders, one hand on his backpack strap, “All I got out of that was ‘idiots’ and I know you weren’t talking to us, beanpole.” he grunts, stalking forward.

You’re about to say something but Mr. Shue points to the seat. You relax, crossing your arms over your shirt. “Alright guys, new things are happening; Sebastian’s staying for a few weeks so Y/N can reteach him English. I expect all of you to help when necessary.” he says sternly, jabbing his pen in the air.

There’s a collective sigh that makes Sebastian’s heart drop. He slumps in his seat, reaching for your hand. “At least he has Y/N…” Tina mutters to Quinn, who just scoffs.

“Well, I, for one, think it’s an excellent idea!” Rachel pipes up, smiling confidently.

Now it’s Sebastian’s turn to sigh, “Ça va être long (this is going to be long)…”