A/N: Well, I wrote a teacher AU fic a long time ago that I never showed anyone and it was downright horrible, so I took it and I adapted it a little. I hope you like it :) if you're here from Tumblr, well, hi! :D

-Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this bitch. They belong to the people who created them and Fox. Just a fan :)

It was the first day of Kurt's senior year as he pulled into the parking lot of McKinley High in a Navigator. This year was supposed to be different. After he returned from Dalton last year, things were considerably better, but this was going to be Kurt's year. There was going to be any more slushees, any more shoving, and any more name calling. He just was not going to have it.

He parked his Navigator in the usual spot and got out, non-fat Mocha from the Lima Bean in hand. As he walked through the familiar halls, he spotted Mercedes at their lockers, which they had managed to get beside each other this year.

"Hey, boy."

"Hey, Mercedes."

Kurt opened his locker, setting his coffee just inside while he pulled out his notebooks for AP French 2 and his history class. "So this new teacher in History... do you know anything about her?"

"Just that she's a he." Mercedes looked over at Kurt, amusement in her eyes. "And that he's new to Ohio. I heard a few things. I heard he was like, 80 or something." She shrugged slightly and closed her locker.

"Great. Just what I need. History is already boring enough without it being taught by someone who experienced it first hand." He rolled his eyes, grabbing his cup and shutting his locker.

"You're a bit snarky this morning." She raised an eyebrow as they turned to walk down the hall.

They didn't have first class together, but the rooms were close to each other, so they walked on.

"Sorry, 'Cedes. I'm just really anxious as to how this year is going to turn out. I refuse to have it be the same as my last three years."

They walked down the hall in silence. They said their goodbyes as they reached their classes and decided to meet outside of Mercedes class after so they could walk to History together. At least Kurt would have a distraction in History with Mercedes there.

He spent his French class listening intently despite already being fluent. French was his favorite language and he had spent many summers listening to discs when he was younger. The class was going to be a breeze, but Kurt loved the language so much, he didn't mind listening to what he already knew. And he enjoyed the conversations him and his French teacher shared in the language itself.

After class he made his way out the door, throwing his empty coffee cup in the can before he left. Mercedes was already waiting for him outside of her class as he made his way over. "Bonjour." Kurt greeted, smiling from ear to ear.

"You always come out of French happier than when you walked in, you know that?"

"Oui." Kurt looked at Mercedes and left. "Let's go to the dreaded History class."

"Yes, sir."

Kurt looped his arm through Mercedes' as they made their way through the crowded hallway. No one looked at Kurt or shoved him. It felt nice to feel safe in his school hallways.

They walked through the door taking two seats in the middle right next to each other. The teacher wasn't in the room yet, and it was very near time for the bell to ring. Students were loud around them and Kurt touched his fingers to his temples. Could they not behave without a teacher in the room? Honestly.

Kurt reached in his satchel, grabbing his books and a pen when he looked up and saw him. A new guy? His eyes were hazel, with a hint of green, his lips were full and moist, his hair was a beautiful, curly mess on top of his head, his glasses were perched gracefully on his nose, and the stubble on his jaw was simply breathtaking.

Kurt had never seen a more beautiful person in his life. He had never seen him before, he had to be new this year. Kurt would have noticed him.

Kurt sat, stunned, willing the new guy to sit in front of him so he could look at the curls and wonder if they were as soft as they looked.

But when the new guy walked to the front of the class and placed his bag on the desk, turning to the board and wrote 'Mr. Anderson' in beautiful, messy handwriting, Kurt's jaw dropped. This was Mr. Anderson? This was the 80 year old new teacher? Kurt was sure his heart stopped beating momentarily when Mercedes threw a pencil at him.

"He looks good for 80, huh?" Mercedes chuckled, seemingly oblivious to Kurt's thoughts.

Oh, this wasn't good. Mr. Anderson. His teacher. Kurt was attracted to his teacher. Extremely attracted.

Kurt would obviously just going to have to ignore it. Mr. Anderson was his teacher, and Kurt had a little crush. It was nothing major. Nothing major at all.

Though, through the entire class, Kurt couldn't stop thinking about what Mr. Anderson looked under that obscenely tight button up top. Or how his name would taste on the tip of his tongue in a moment of passion. Or how it would feel to have this man whisper 'I love you' to him, or whisper anything really.

When Mr. Anderson dropped his dry erase marker and bent to pick it up, Kurt craned his neck to see, licking his lips at the view. Oh, god. No, no, no, no. This... this is wrong. This can't be happening. Kurt Hummel cannot have feeling for his History teacher. He just can't.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, Kurt never returning his thoughts to Mr. Anderson.

Though as the weeks passed, his infatuation with the man grew. He began to take note of little things. The way his sweat gathered at his hairline when he had been especially enthusiastic about a certain topic and got a little too worked up while he talked about it. The way he licked his lips every time he flipped a page in his textbook. The way his beautiful hands were slightly calloused, and the way they gripped the pen as he wrote. The way his eyes squinted slightly as he concentrated on a paper for a little too long.

It quickly became a problem when Kurt got his first B in French. A B in French class for Kurt Hummel? Or when he would spend the rest of the day after History class remembering the way Mr. Anderson walked around the room or the way his pants for the day hugged his thighs a little too tightly.

It was beginning to be difficult to concentrate in any of his other classes and something had to be done.

But what?

Kurt couldn't tell Mr. Anderson. That would be wrong and it would make the class extremely awkward for both of them.

He was walking the hall on his way to the cafeteria when he realized he didn't have his phone with him. He ran back to his locker, hoping to have left it in there when he was putting away his books from his previous classes. When he didn't see it he started to panic. That phone was expensive and he dad would absolutely kill him if he lost it.

He tried to think back to the last time he had it. He knew he walked in with it this morning because he was texting Mercedes in French class.

He had it sitting on his desk in History class.

And then he had it... no, no he didn't have it in Calculus.

So it was either in the History classroom or someone had it.

He walked down the hall to Mr. Anderson's class, heart skipping in his chest. He'd never been alone with Mr. Anderson before. When he walked up to the class the door was open and he saw his teacher sitting at the desk reading a book. He knocked lightly and the older man looked up and smiled at Kurt.

Kurt stopped breathing.

"Yes?"

"Um... I can't find my phone and I was wondering..."

"Is it a black iPhone?"

"Oh god, yes." Please have it so I can leave and this awkward vibe I'm sending can just go away.

Mr. Anderson opened his drawer to pull something out. "Is this it?" He held out a shiny, black iPhone that had Kurt's case on it.

"Yes!" He reached out and grabbed it, his fingers touched Mr. Anderson's for a brief moment. He licked his lips absentmindedly and thought he saw his teacher's eyes flicker there.

Mr. Anderson cleared his throat. "You should, uh... make sure you take care of your things. That's an expensive phone. You're lucky I saw it before someone else."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much." Kurt couldn't help but notice the way his teacher was avoiding looking at him. He knew he had to mean nothing besides the fact that Kurt was his student and he meant nothing to him other than that, so why would he look at him if he didn't have to?

Kurt turned on his heel to walk away, a feel of relief washing over him at the fact that he didn't do or say anything incredibly stupid. He stopped in his tracks when he heard Mr. Anderson speak. "How old are you, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt turned around slowly, gripping the handle of his satchel with a confused look on his face. "17. I'll be 18 in a few months, why?"

"Just curious. I've talked to every one of my students except for you. Why is that?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean, Mr. Hummel, that every student I have has come up to me at one point or another to talk to me about something. You haven't. Am I a bad teacher to you? I'm sure we could arrange to have you transfer classes if it would be easier for you to-"

"No." Kurt cut him off before thinking. Oh, god. Had he noticed? Kurt felt his face heat up slightly as he cleared his throat. "You're not a bad teacher at all. I just..."

Kurt's heart was pounding in his chest. Mr. Anderson was the most well liked teacher in this school, of course all of his students would talk to him. Had Kurt really been the only one to not talk to him? And the fact that Mr. Anderson asked him if he was a bad teacher and offered to have him transferred out... well, that made Kurt's heart flutter a little because he really was an incredible teacher.

"You just, what? Of course you don't have to talk to me, you're just the only student who hasn't, and it wouldn't bother me so much if you didn't bolt out of here when the bell rang as if the class was on fire. That's why I think it's me. As a teacher, I have to look out for my students. And if I'm not teaching and if me as a teacher is something that doesn't appeal to you, then we need to look into getting that fixed. I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable in my class because you don't like me."

"It's the exact opposite of that, actually." Kurt's intake of breath was sharp and his eye widened considerably. He definitely did not mean to say that out loud.

Kurt was quick with his words and good at dancing around the subject at hand, but with Mr. Anderson, all sense of self seemed to be out the window. He knew there had to be some way out of that massive slip of the tongue, but he just couldn't see it.

Mr. Anderson raised an eyebrow and looked somewhat... amused. Okay, that's weird. "Oh?" he leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers together over his abdomen.

"I... I mean that... I like you a lot. As a teacher."

"Mr. Hummel." He knew. He had to know. There was just no way. Kurt just had to be honest.

"I'm attracted to you..." he whispered, barely audible.

"I see..." Mr. Anderson leaned forward on his desk, his eyebrows knitting together.

Kurt swallowed hard, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Kurt was sure that his teacher was going to tell him to get out and have him transferred out of his class effective immediately.

Why wouldn't he? He was new in town and the last thing he needed was some kid in his class crushing on him. Kurt wasn't even sure the man was gay, so that could be another factor to the awkwardness. His teacher had a gay boy crushing on him. Of course he was going to transfer Kurt out of his class.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

Mr. Anderson's hand reached out and covered Kurt's without any hesitation. He patted Kurt's hand softly before removing his own and standing up, looking at his watch. "Lunch is almost over, Kurt. I don't want you to be late for your next class."

Kurt nodded and stood, legs a little unstable as he walked passed his teacher and to the door.

"Oh, and I need to see you after school. While your paper on Napoleon Bonaparte was well written, there are a few points we need to discuss."

Kurt stood there in silence, trying to process what was happening. It was nothing. His teacher simply reached his hand to reassure him that it was okay and there were no hard feelings.

Kurt walked out without saying a word and continued on through the day.