Aaron T x Aaron Z| Oneshots

Highschool Dance Team (Part 7)

Word count: 1812 (this is the second-last chapter of Highschool Dance Team)

Aaron Z's POV

Z slumped in his seat at the back of his fourth-period classroom. He could barely keep his eyes open- he hadn't slept in at least three days from the business of being a junior at high school. His English class was demanding, not to mention how busy he was with work, his sister, and sports. His mother had suggested he take a break and quit his job at the local convenience store for a while, but he refused to do so. Z refused to give up or show weakness.

Still, as his teacher droned on about Hamlet, which was usually a play that the seniors studied, he couldn't help but let his eyelids droop until nothing was within his line of vision and he finally let sleep take over.

+++

Z awoke to feel a firm tap on his shoulder. He felt it twice more before he slowly sat up. His teacher leaned on the desk next to him. Her arms were crossed in an intimidating manner but there was no anger on her face- only concern.

"Aaron?" She asked when he said nothing. It took him a moment to realize that he'd fallen asleep and no students were in the room with them. The bell must have rung. With a quick glance at the clock hanging at the front of the classroom, he realized that his teacher had let him sleep for an hour after the bell rang.

She already wore her winter coat and scarf with her satchel strapped around her shoulder. She was ready to leave.

"Oh," he said and stood up. He didn't know why she let him sleep. He wished she didn't- he was late for dance practice. "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling deep embarrassment wash over him. He must have looked like an idiot, falling asleep in her class.

"Listen," his teacher began. She gazed at him fondly, like she really did care about his well-being. Not many teachers did. "Is there anything happening... at home, perhaps?" Z quickly shook his head. His embarrassment only worsened. All he wanted was to leave and get to the gym where the rest of his friends were.

"No," he said quickly. "Just tired. Life is busy," he tried to explain as he shoved his books into his backpack. Just as his teacher was about to say something more, he heard the round of running footsteps and a teacher yelling at someone to "walk, young man!"

Seconds later, the familiar face of Aaron T popped in the doorway. His messy hair was tamed with his signature backward baseball cap. His sweater hung slightly off of his shoulder.

"Zee!" He gasped when they locked eyes. He didn't even hesitate before rushing into the classroom and to his side, completely ignoring the teacher's presence. Maybe he didn't even notice her there.

"Where have you been, man, we're working on the lift!" T was referring to the routine that Robaire and the girl's dance team had choreographed. Both teams were working alongside each other for a competition coming up in a few weeks.

Though his friend had spoken to him, he wasn't even listening. All he could focus on was how his heart skipped a beat after seeing him. Even after knowing him for months, Z couldn't get over the sight of him. T was like a bright sun whose rays warmed his skin and gave him energy. He loved to be around him and even though he'd just entered the room, he could feel his drowsiness fade away.

"Sorry," He said when he turned back to his teacher. "It won't happen again," he told her though they both knew it was likely a lie. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and told him to enjoy his weekend. Z gathered his things and followed T out of her classroom.

As soon as they were in the halls, T slipped his hand into his and asked him what had happened. Z slipped their intertwined hands into the pocket of his hoodie. It was a simple motion that he'd done often. He liked the sensation of T's warm hand in his even though sometimes his hands sweat a little. Sometimes he'd tease him about it.