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Scenario under headcanons :)
-Hange would absolutely be the clingy and touchy one once they find someone they like and want to be friends with
-And the next, unfortunate victim of their friendliness? You.
-They were everywhere: A hand on your shoulder, your forearms, your back, (your head if you’re shorter—)
-Touchy, but not overly touchy
-And I can definitely see Hange greeting and being friendly with you in the hallways
-They were a new chemistry professor, and they’ve always heard you were lovely: a chill, respected English teacher in the campus
-They were really trying hard at this friendship thing okay?
-And you, finding their friendly and charming demeanor endearing, decide to let them in
-Why not, they were so nice and friendly :)
-Despite the busy schedules and drowning with activities to grade, Hange wants to maintain this friendship with you
-That is, until they found within themselves that they didn’t just want a friendship with you
-What brought this on? Well, Hange could list it all off
-They’d say you tolerated them and their nearly insufferable way of being friends (being touchy-feely and always being by your side)
-They’d say that you actually smile and chuckle occasionally at their stupid puns
-And you didn’t mind them being their touchy self either
-But what it really came down to?
-It was when Hange discovered they were jealous when they saw you smiling with the longtime History teacher
-Yep, they figured out they wanted you pretty badly after that. And not in a friendship way either
-And so their clinginess ramped up, to the point where other faculty members were asking Hange if there was something between you two
-Hange was easier to talk to about this, cause you’d always just brush it off and say they were being friendly
-And much to Hange’s disappointment, they’ll have to reply to the others that there isn’t, in fact, something going on between you (as much as they’d like there to be)
-Cue some teasing
-They were pretty good with their words actually
-But you, as always, kept brushing it off as some friendly banter
-You were stupid, and maybe a little in denial.
-“Looking for me?” Hange would say in a sultry tone right as you coincidentally bumped into them in the hallway.
-“You know, I think they do fire drills because of your hotness.” They whispered one time while you two were in the middle of the campus grounds during a fire drill. And then they sauntered off back to the class they were supposed to be watching like nothing happened. So corny.
-They even had the nerve to use something as corny as “Are you a keyboard? Because I think you might just be my type.” While you were silently encoding your students' grades on excel.
-You only let out an exhale and a smile.
-Sometimes the other faculty members overhear them being flirty with you
-Cue the questioning once again, ‘are you two together or something?’
-And so Hange drove home, wishing that their answer was a yes instead of a no, tinged with disappointment hidden under a joking tone
-But on their drive home, they see something they didn't quite expect…
The pavement had been wet for as long as Hange drove away from campus. The rain had muffled any other sound, crashing down on every surface and causing more traffic as usual. Great. Just another thing to piss them off on their drive home. If they weren’t already feeling disappointed from their answers from their earlier conversation with other professors, they certainly were now. At least the weather seemed to match their inner turmoil.
This morning, they had been asked yet again if there was something going on between you two, obviously hinting at something more than friendship. But their answer was no, and it will always be a no– if nothing happens. They wished so badly that you weren’t so oblivious to their motives, but they don’t want to force anything either by confessing so abruptly. You two were professionals in a work setting and always so busy. And most of all, they didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
The view they saw the other day only added to their restraint: that saw you laughing and giggling away with the well-known and longtime history professor as you two walked together down the hallway. Hange could still conjure up that look on your face so vividly: so happy and carefree, that moment of cheerfulness not shared with them. For a split second, they couldn’t care less about who you were with, they were more infuriated with the fact that the moment wasn’t shared with them. They should’ve been the one making you happy, making you smile like that, and–
They see you on the sidewalk as they drive.
Hange slows down, making sure that what they were seeing was true. It was actually you, under the shade of a bus stop. Their knowledge hadn’t betrayed them, they knew you commuted home. You lived a little nearer to campus than they did, but what makes Hange’s brows furrow is how you looked at the moment.
You were so visibly soaked from the rain. The earlier outfit they had been staring at (in intervals of three seconds) looking more depressed the longer they looked. Seeing as there wasn’t much traffic in the street, Hange put the car to a stop. You don’t recognize whose car it was in front of you at the moment until the window rolled down, showing your very concerned looking coworker.
“Hey! What are you doing out here?” In the midst of the rain crashing down, Hange’s voice brought comfort. You’d been here awhile, the absence of your umbrella in your bag making sure you absorbed every single bit of the rain drops on the way to the bus stop.
“I– I was just on my way home!” you yell as the rain continues its loud descent.
“Don’t you have an umbrella?” The question leaves their mouth, but Hange finds they can barely wait for an answer.
“No, I–”
“Get in!” They motion for you to come inside. And so you do, quickly gathering your belongings and your student’s papers before moving to make the roof of Hange’s car your new shield from the constant rain.
“Sorry!” Was your first word upon sitting. How couldn’t you utter the word, you were practically drenching the entire passenger side of their car.
On the other hand, Hange was ecstatic. Finding you on the road, all drenched and dripping was not what they expected to spot during their drive home at all. They couldn’t care less for the sudden drenching of their car. If they were feeling down moments ago, they certainly weren’t now.
“Sorry,” you speak again in panic, “Sorry, I’m getting everything all wet. Is this really okay?”
In a way, Hange’s chuckling feels like music to you, “Oh, hon, don’t be sorry. Why were you so drenched anyway? Forgot your umbrella at home?”
“Yep,” you sheepishly reply. “Had to run all the way to the bus stop. The rain wouldn’t let up.”
The way your voice quivers every so often worries them. “You okay?” they ask.
“I— yeah, just cold. Like really, really—“ they reach to turn down the AC for you, “—cold.”
“Are you okay? How are you, really?” Hange takes multiple glances at your shivering form.
“I’m good. Just awfully… awfully cold.” You’re reluctant to make any more movements, afraid that any droplets would flood the inside of their car even more.
Hange notices how frozen you look and smile to themselves. You look kind of adorable, all shy like that. “You wanna dry off somewhere?”
“Yes, that would be great, actually.”
Hange makes a stop at a nearby gas station, saying they were going to get some gas anyway. A small white lie.
You struggle to get out of the car with your belongings scattered almost everywhere on your lap and on the ground.
“Here, let me get your jacket. I’ll dry it off for you.” Hange offers, and in turn you hand over your jacket to them to lessen a little bit of the mess you were in.
You get out of the car and squeeze your clothes in a shaded corner until you’re only mostly damp. Thankfully, your bag didn’t absorb the same devastating amount of water your clothes did.
Upon arriving at where their car was getting gas, it’s obvious that Hange is already gearing up to say something. No, nothing was off about the way they stood or looked, but with the months of friendship, you could feel it radiating.
“You know, you look kind of cute, all drenched like that.” There it was. You’re not sure how to react, as you were in the middle of squeezing your shirt dry when their comment hit you.
“Come on, get in.” Hange smiles before opening the door to the passenger seat for you, but you notice how they tossed a towel to the backseat before opening it to you further.
As they drive away again, you feel a bit of guilt creeping up your neck, seeing as how they tried to dry the seat for you, “Sorry, I should’ve offered to dry the seat off…”
Hange takes a quick glance at you and at the towel they just threw on the backseat, “What? No, no, seriously. You're too nice. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re the one who’s so prone to getting sick right now. Worry about yourself first.”
“Thanks for letting me in. I didn’t know if the bus was coming at all, so thanks.”
“It’s no problem at all. How couldn’t I take you in, you looked so sad. How about this, let’s go buy some food for you, how’s that sound?”
“Hange—“
“Whoops, too late. I’m making the turn.” Hange snickers to themselves.
“Didn’t you just say earlier in the office that you’re broke?”
“Never too broke for you, dear.”
You roll your eyes and let them do their thing. There wouldn’t be a way to stop them anyway.
Eventually, you found yourself in the parking lot of a restaurant, and luckily, this time the rain has become more forgiving.
“I’ll just order takeout. What do you want?”
You state the drink and the snack you often buy at the fast food chain, tone tinged with a bit of hesitation. You really didn’t want them to do anything more, but they’re so kind, and you know you have no choice anyway.
“Got it. Wait for me here, okay? I’ll try to be quick.”
And so Hange goes in alone, but not without another surprise waiting for them. Could this day be any more unexpected?
Just as they enter, they spot him. They were unsure at first, but upon closer inspection— just standing behind him in line— his shaven head proves their suspicion right.
Unfortunately, he fidgets and turns around enough to see Hange right behind him.
“Oh! Sir!” Connie’s mouth falls open at the sudden sighting of his professor in the restaurant, coincidentally falling right behind him in line.
Hange feigns surprise. “Ah, Springer! I didn’t notice it was you.” With the sudden high intonation of their voice, they hoped it sounded like a good enough lie.
It gets worse, with Connie looking down and noticing something Hange hadn’t at first.
“Hm. That's… not your jacket is it, sir?”
Oh god, they were still holding your slightly damp jacket from earlier, sitting comfortably on their arm. Shoot. What’s a good enough lie? Should they lie? Should they tell the truth?
“Ahaha, you’d be right. It's not.” They hoped the lack of a more detailed answer would fly past his head.
Knowing the owner of the item at hand, Connie raises a curious eyebrow, “Are they with you?” He looks around the restaurant, hoping to spot you.
Hange internally exhaled, thanking the heavens for the easy question. “Yes, I’m driving them home. You know how hard it was raining earlier, yes?”
“Oh. Oh yeah, it was.”
“Who are you here with anyway, Springer? Just you?” They shift the conversation in hopes to abandon all other questions that would lead to you. Not that it would be that weird to be seen with you, but it made Hange nervous regardless.
“Oh, you know. The usual gang, Sasha and Jean.”
“I’m guessing Sasha made you all go?”
“Haha, yeah.”
“Well you guys stay safe. The rain might come back. Don’t stay out too long.”
“We will, sir. You too.”
Hange ignores the way he eyes them and the jacket with a slight smirk on his already smug looking face before turning away. Much to Hange’s delight, the conversation ends at that. They soon take their turn to order and return to you with the takeout with much haste.
“I’m back— oh!” What Hange returns to is your sleeping form on their passenger seat, your arms cutely tucked and leaning against the door.
“Mh?” you stir groggily, “Oh.”
“Sorry,” Hange arranges the drinks by the cup holder, “Did I take too long?”
“No, no.” You yawn. “It’s fine.”
“Oh I’ve got something that will wake you up,” They smirk, “You know who I saw?”
Of course something had to happen while they were gone. You sit upright. “Who?”
“Connie Springer.” Hange giggles to themselves, finding the situation humorous.
“Oh. Well that’s not that unusual. Did he… did he say anything?”
“Yeah, well. I made the— well not exactly a mistake of uh… bringing your jacket with me, and he noticed that.”
“Oh,” you eye your jacket that’s still slung comfortably around Hange’s arm, “So he knows we’re together at the moment, huh?”
Hange nods before pursing their lips, unsubtly keeping it to themselves how good that sentence sounds with a few tweaks and under a different circumstance. And it’s as if you read their mind as your next words follow.
“You know what?” You muster up all the energy you could find to tease Hange back, a bit of payback for all the flirting they’ve done, “I bet you like the idea of that. Someone knowing we’re together.”
“Oh!” Hange chuckles. “Um, well. I can’t deny that. But yeah, he does know we’re together right now. He says he’s with Sasha and Jean, the three little idiots.”
“Not surprising.” A giggle escapes your lips and, immediately after, a sniffle.
“Oh, shit. You’re gonna catch a fever aren’t you?”
“No, shit— no, I’m fine.”
“Okay maybe not a fever, but a cold. Come on over here in the backseat.” Without waiting for further comments, Hange gets out of the car and opens the door on your side.
“I got a blanket here somewhere. Come on sweetie.” You oblige their request to get in the backseat and they return just as quickly from the trunk after obtaining the promised blanket.
Hange soon joins you in the backseat, the rather cute blanket in their hands: a sky blue color with dark blue stars along with bright yellow colored ones scattered across it. But the smile on Hange’s face seems warmer than anything the inanimate object can provide.
“Ta-da!” Hange starts unwrapping the blanket. “Mind if I put this around you dear?”
With the nod of your head, they begin putting the blanket on and around you. It’s as gentle and soft as Hange’s actions.
“Thanks.” Another sniffle.
“Come eat something for a bit. Then you can sleep here on the way home, okay? I won’t mind.”
With a convenient and clean set up of the food that was bought, you two began eating the takeout food in silence, shortly followed by Hange’s ranting about teaching. It was to be expected, your jobs have always been demanding, a break never caught even during the holidays, but it seemed like they had less filter when outside of campus grounds.
“You know,” Hange sighs, taking a bite out of the burger they ordered, “The kids are failing my subject.”
Their sudden delivery almost makes you burst out laughing, but you keep it in as to not catch them off guard. “You do know most students don't like chemistry, right?”
“But it’s such a fascinating subject!” In complaint, Hange waves a fry in the air before tossing it in their mouth.
“I get it, I get it,” You lay a hand on the increasingly agitated shoulder of your friend, which unbeknownst to you, they secretly enjoy, “It’s not you, don’t worry. It’s just a subject that’s hard for most people to understand.”
“Which… also sucks. I’m starting to doubt my teaching skills because of it.”
“I know. It’s so easy to do that, but don’t get too caught up on it, hm? I’m sure the students love you regardless of your subject.” You restrain, but another sniffle comes out.
“Easy for you to say, English professor.” Hange smirks.
You roll your eyes, “Oh here I am trying to cheer you up— still slightly damp from my clothes, mind you— and you pull the English teacher card on me. Delightful.”
Hange, once finished with their burger, taps your arm in lighthearted banter. Don’t worry, they made sure their hands were clean, “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. But thanks a lot. And…I have to ask, were you one of those students who didn’t do well in chemistry?”
“Ah, well. That’s my secret to take to the grave.” Laughing nervously, you finish your chosen meal before they make their next move.
Hange giggles a little louder, wrapping an arm around you this time, startling you once they squeezed.
“You cheeky thing!” They squealed. Their second squeeze slid you into a position much closer to them.
You ignore the increasing proximity and reply, “What? Is it a crime to have secrets now?”
“Oh the hypocrisy!” They cried out, a smile plastered across their face.
They say the third time’s the charm, and it happened just as quickly: with one more squeeze, you slid— your back was now fully flushed against Hange’s firm chest, their arm slid and now draped over your collarbone with much tenderness and their other hand ghosting just shy above your thigh.
To ponder if this was Hange’s intention and reserve this thought for another day. To be this close with a friend, with a coworker was slightly strange, although not unwelcome. In the comfort of their car and away from prying eyes, you’ve discovered you couldn’t really care less.
“I’m not talking.” You tease quietly.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll find ways to make you talk.” They reply, and you find they’re awfully close to your ear this time.
In the silence that draws on, you find yourself melting into Hange’s arms. Slumping with nearly every second in their presence, was it exhaustion taking over your body? Maybe the rain finally did its number on your weary soul and the sickness was finally reigning in your body.
Or maybe it was comfort? Did your longtime friendship mean that you would immediately succumb to their physical presence, your body finding comfort in theirs?
What was it about their energy now that made you less tense?
In the midst of your hazy thoughts, you finally confess. “I never did well in chemistry.”
Hange smiles down at you, the result of both your relaxation in their arms and your quiet confession, “And I’ve always been interested in language. And yet here we are.”
They adjust themselves, meeting you eye to eye with that unwavering gentle smile. It’s almost like they were cradling you, with your back on the seat and Hange looking at you so tenderly. With their arm now sitting comfortably around the headrest where you leaned and a hand resting on your thigh, you could say that Hange has successfully trapped you in their car.
“Maybe I can reteach you some English lessons sometime.” You stare deep in their eyes. It has a vice grip on your soul.
With the subtle movement of their eyelashes, their eyes turn soft, mouth slightly open and ready to say something— something you already know to be sincere. The tension was palpable.
Hange, almost uncharacteristic, speaks softly, “And maybe I can teach you chemistry.” A gentle brush on your head. You’re sweating tiny beads and they wipe it away.
A bold question follows after your very own chuckle, “Think you can tell me what kind of bond we’re making right now?”
Hange laughs back, followed by a softer whisper of a reply.
“Oh, I would but… I don’t even think it’s in the chemistry books, darling.” With their proximity, you find that their voice scratches beautifully with every other word. Heavily distracted by their tone and proximity, you find that you’ll have to rethink how you feel about it. Or rather— how much it makes you feel— much later.
Hange now moves slowly, slowly down until their lips hover over your cheek. Their breath feels warm against it.
And then that warm feeling manifests into something physical, in the form of a kiss planted right beside, and just shy of touching your lips. It had only been the very corner of your lips and while how truly shocking it was, you found that you felt, most of all: empty and… unsatisfied?
Hange feels that your skin is warm. A little too warm, in fact. They pull away slowly, already missing the feeling of your soft skin under the touch of their lips.
Their raspy voice comes into focus, “Not to alarm you, but I think you have a fever.”
The shock that manifests as silence is what you give as an answer. A few more seconds gives you the ability to find your voice again, “Is that how you check people’s temperatures now?”
“No,” Hange chuckles, adding in a whisper, “Just for you, darling.”
You ignore the flirty comment and exhale a breath that you’d been holding for a while, “What was that about?”
“What was what?” By the tone of their voice, you already know Hange’s teasing you. You look at them like they just grew two heads.
“You know what.” You pout.
Hange tilts their head cutely, yet concern fills their tone. “Did you… not like it?”
“I…” You begin, but find that a continuation to your sentence eludes you. Such a flustered attitude could only go unnoticed by your own self, but not by who was right in front of you.
“Did you… like it?” Hange reiterates hesitantly, and the expression on your face makes you regret giving your feelings away. Their voice now annoyingly low and curious and teasing all at once, they spoke, “Hmm. What, cat got your tongue? Can’t find an English word to describe your feelings right now?”
“Shut up.” You hit their arm gently.
“I still have to get you home, you know. Can’t have you getting sick here now, can I?” And as Hange dismisses the topic of the near-kiss too easily, it pisses you off.
They don’t miss the way you pout.
“What?” They urge. Silence is your response.
“What?” Hange asks again, a small smile playing by their lips, “Did you actually want that kiss?” They add, voice a little quieter now, evidently more curious yet playful. How annoying.
You shift in your seat. “If I say yes?”
For a split second, Hange looks taken aback. You decide to keep this small victory to yourself.
“Then maybe I’ll give it to you.”
Other than Hange caressing your head, you raise an eyebrow as the following seconds come by with no kiss nor initiative, and you grow impatient.
“You’re a tease. You know that?” You sigh, bracing yourself with your own first move regardless of their reply.
“And you’re impatie—“ You make sure Hange has no chance to finish their sentence as you now adjust yourself to straddle their hips. The size of the car makes it a little harder to be in such a position, but you manage. You know what they say, “if there’s a will, there’s a way.”
With their eyes widened by the boldness of your actions, you cup their face in a gentle hold, “You know, I’m through with your flirting and teasing and— ugh, your games, Hange. You wanna kiss me? Please, by all means. I’m not—“
“W-wait!” While taken aback, it seems their body has a mind of its own, wrapping their hands around your waist and thighs as if to keep you grounded as you two bicker, “But I thought you and that thick eyebrowed history teacher were together!“
“Oh, what!” Baffled by what you’re hearing, your hands fly down their shoulders, “He and that one janitor are together! They’re dating, I think.”
“Oh, the… that guy? Huh.” Hange ponders as the shock took over them with this new information.
“You really thought we were together?” You scoff lightheartedly, aiming to bring the topic back to the two of you.
“Well, yes you… you were giggling with him and stuff.” The betrayal of their voice raising a pitch higher in embarrassment and jealousy does not escape you. It entertains you, even.
“Oh God, were you jealous?” Your laugh fills Hange’s heart. They can feel the way your body heaves up and down from your laughter as you continue to sit on them, “I’m pretty sure that when you saw us that one day, he was in the middle of telling me how oblivious I was to your… advances.”
Hange tilts their head, “Oh.”
“I thought he was just joking and I kept dismissing his idea. I mean surely you didn’t actually mean anything by your words and actions until… well, until today, I guess.”
“Let me get this straight,” They lick their lips, hands ready to accompany the explaining in such an animated way, “So I saw you giggling away with him and got jealous cause I thought you two had a little something, but really that was the conversation where he was telling you about how my intentions towards you were… something else.”
“Correct.” You ruffle Hange’s hair.
“Okay,” They slide a hand up your waist, feeling its warmth, “That makes this easier.”
“So, about that kiss…”
Hange gulps. “Darling… not to change the topic, but you’re getting warmer by the second. Your fever’s—“
“That didn’t stop you from being inches away from my face earlier.”
“You’d be correct. But—“
“That didn’t stop you from kissing the corner of my lips either.”
Hange exhales nervously, looking at your eyes with a mixture of shock and confidence in theirs, “You’re cheeky, aren’t you?”
“Come on, where’s your flirty side run to now?” Now it’s your turn to lean closer into their ear and whisper tauntingly with the very words they used on you, “Cat got your tongue? Can’t find the English word to describe how you feel right no—“
“That’s it.” With a rather intimidating laugh, Hange’s impatience reaches its limits as they try to regain control of the situation. “You want this too, right? Come here, then.”
With one fluid motion, their hand flies up to move your head away from their ear to face them, turning you gently so your lips would finally clash with theirs. An arm pulls you closer by your waist, their grip unwaveringly tight as if you’d run at the first chance. They shudder at the thought of finally kissing you, having you to themselves in the privacy of their car.
As you continue to cup their face, desperation seeps through their every action. You could only think of how long they’ve wanted this as their tongue comes out to lick your bottom lip every so often, their grip by the back of your head guiding you as their relentless and needy lips clash with yours. You could even feel them squirming a bit, grinding under you. Their cute actions only make you smile in the midst of their desperate kisses.
As you pull back to take a breath, Hange whines in protest. They settle a hand by your hip and your neck, furrowing their brows for a split second, “You’re so warm.”
“I know, I know. It’s the damn fever, isn’t it?” You frustratedly sigh, “I hope you won’t get sick.”
“Oh, the… the warmth, it’s– it’s a bit cute on you, actually. If that makes sense,” Hange shakes their head, “But you act like I’d mind being sick when I got it by kissing you in the first place.”
“Oh, that’s right.” You reply, “I’m sure you can think of some… chemical or.. whatever to make yourself healthy again. Make yourself immune to my illness.”
“Medicine, dear. I’d get medicine.” You two share a laugh at your forgetfulness of the word.
“But honestly,” Hange shrugs, ”If I got sick from kissing you everytime, I wouldn’t mind being bedridden.”
Another flirty comment. Another tease. This time without any barriers, but you roll your eyes anyway. “God, you are corny.”
“Mhm, don't say that. You love me.”
“Oh, I’m still trying to figure that one out.”
As Hange suppresses a pout and fails, you can’t help but laugh at their hesitant expression. You find that you’re starting to enjoy this teasing game as well, and it turns out you’ve even found their weakness, the very way to fluster them back. All it takes is you. You’re their one soft spot.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Oh well, you can help me figure it out anyway, won’t you?” You slide off them and settle on the seat beside them, back to your original position from earlier, “But seriously, you look funny when you’re the one being teased and flirted with. Not so brave now, are you?”
“Shut up.” Was all Hange could muster as a rebuttal. Their hand doesn’t seem to want to leave your waist, following your every movement until you’ve settled comfortably.
For a few seconds, silence. Rising fever be damned, your accusing words about their earlier proximity and lack of care for your sick state are only now sinking in Hange’s mind. Eager and longing for more, Hange turns to corner you by the door of the car, lips chasing yours. You let them.
With a gentle push, you tug them away, and they politely oblige. A small smirk plays by your lips.
“Now, now,” You speak, mind slightly disoriented and hazy. You cup their face, needy and warm and everything all at once,
“How about that ride home first?”