50. Pudding (Mileven, Dustin and Mr Clarke)

A/N: Hiya, fellas. This has been sitting on my computer for MONTHS and I couldn't get myself to finish it because I didn't know how? But I finally got to do it today, so here it is. This was also based on a Tumblr post by maxmayfield, in which Dustin gets caught by Mr. Clarke stealing the pudding and Mr. Clarke totally takes some for himself.

Also, I'm sorry if I'm still not around as much and I haven't replied to your messages, but the past week and this one have been super stressful. My mom has not been feeling good (headaches, nausea, dizziness, weakness, etc) and has so much on her plate right now. So I've been checking her pressure and it's super high. I took her to the Dr's office and she's on the bridge of getting diagnosed as hyper-tense, so we've been struggling to not let that happen. So... yeah, health is important and my mom has been a bit depressed by that, so I'm focusing on her at the moment.

I know you must be thinking that I always have a great excuse as to why I'm not writing but I swear I never lie lol. I enjoy writing and creating alternative scenes for the kids and the whole people of ST, so I love my stories as much as you guys do.

Please review and leave me a nice comment so I can reply to you :) *heart emoji* Happy reading!

ALSO, I ALMOST FORGOT! For those spanish-speakers, Quodes has translated two (and is in the middle of doing the third) of my stories to Spanish, so if you'd like to read them in our natural language or you just want to learn some spanish, make sure to check them out. The stories she translated are Don't Lock Her In and Took You Long Enough (Roller Coaster Day will be up next).

PROMPT: Mike and El have to explain their relationship to Mr. Clarke, by AliKatt.

They were graduating from the 8th grade to the 9th, which sounded like a no-biggie in the number scale, but in reality, it was scarier and more intimidating.

High School was Mike's secret nightmare. From all the bullying stories in movies, the nerd stereotype in comics, and Nancy's stress rants about homework and bad teachers, he wasn't thrilled about the four years to come.

Still, he went and received his diploma for completing middle school, shook hands with the directives and scowled at his mother's camera. His dad patted him in the back with a "good job, son" in that flat, boring voice of his, but it was still kind of nice to see him attend the small ceremony in the school gym, because he was still practically a kid and he still craved that paternal affection and acceptance that he'd nearly never had, or whatever.

The best of it all though, was that El was there.

True to his word, Sam Owens had been working his wires to make it easier for the young girl. Each month, Hopper received more and more papers, gifting them a citizenship, medical records and a private tutor for El (Jane, in the public records) to help her get into the desired level of education.

It wasn't near enough to what Hopper wanted, or Mike, for the matter, because she was still half-hidden. Sure, each week she was allowed to visit her friends (getting her used to their parents and their homes, new locations that she secured inside her brain), occasionally taking a walk through the city with Hopper, Joyce or Steve, if the other two were unavailable, and going to the movies or the Arcade on weekends, if she had been on a good behavior that week.

Mike wanted her to be all out in the open, especially now that people started recognizing her and acknowledging her when they saw her on the streets, but he understood the risks.

She was still the highlight of that morning, sitting on the bleachers in a pale pink dress with a circular neck showing the skin of her collarbones and a small bow wrapped around her waist. Her once curly hair had been transitioning into looser waves as it grew, the ends tickling the back of her shoulder blades. She was perfect, and the greatest thing about her was that she thought the same of him.

It was that little feeling that led them to their improvised confession.

She had wanted to see the school in daylight again, smiling softly when he took her hand in his and led her to the hallways.

Max, Lucas and Will were busy dumping papers out of their lockers with pure, unadulterated excitement; shrieks of laughter echoing out of their mouths as they dragged the trashcan through the hallway, stopping under each locker and proceeding to the next one after they were done.

Dustin had disappeared into the kitchen a few minutes after the six of them met outside the gym, declaring to have one last hooray with the hoard of pudding the lunch ladies had hidden.

El tugged on his hand, startling him out of his thoughts as he blinked down at her. "AV Club." She pointed out, her big eyes sparkling with satisfaction at remembering the room he had a profound fondness for.

"Oh, yeah," he half-smiled, reaching out to touch the smooth surface of the door. "The AV Club. Man, I'm going to miss this."

"There is no AV in High School?" She frowned lightly, a little upset to know he wouldn't be having this anymore.

"I'm not really sure," he shrugged, looking back at her. "High School kids don't care for these things. It's just us nerds, really," he snorted in self-consciousness, gripping her hand tighter when she gave it a squeeze. "And even if there was one, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let a couple of freshman dorks in."

"But you are good," she protested, reaching for his other hand when he shifted to lean against the wall next to the door, facing her. "All of you. Why would they not let you apply for it?"

He smiled at her, pleased with her wording. Sometimes he thought back to the girl who communicated with short words and gestures, and smiled with pride when he realized she had come so far from that. "I don't know, El. That's just the way things are, I suppose. Freshman are... well, exactly that. Fresh meat. Upperclassmen look down at us just for being the newbies, you know?"

"Well, that's bullshit." She rolled her eyes, a light scowl on her lips.

He laughed at that, never getting tired of hearing her curse. She was getting the hang of their slang, Dustin's cursing and Nancy's favorite method of rebuttal when she ran out of comebacks a natural element in her vocabulary. Honestly, he didn't know why Hopper even bothered to reprimand her when he was the one with the mouth of a sailor. He was surprised she wasn't throwing 'fuck' and 'shit' all over the place, given that those were Hopper's daily words.

He untangled a hand from hers, reaching out to tug on the doorknob of the AV Club's door, and sighed when he found it locked. A loud click on the circular thing had him turning back around to see El's head returning to its original place after she used her powers.

"Come on." She tugged him off from the wall, sniffling quickly as she walked with sure footsteps.

"Stop doing that," he told her quietly, a warning look in his eyes as he closed the door behind them, his hand automatically going to turn the lights on from memory reflex. "Someone might see."

"No one did," she replied confidently, letting go of his hand to venture further into the room. "I checked."

"Okay, yeah, sure you did." He snorted, shaking his head as he watched her touch the bunch of tech stuff they had lying around still. Her hands hovered over the equipment, her fingertips hesitant with the fear of breaking anything. He was quiet, thinking on all the things he and the guys would have to move from here, and then a little sad as he realized a lot of their loved toys would have to stay. His upsetting must have been obvious, because he yelped in fright when the chair in front of him scratched against the floor out of nowhere, bringing him out of his sad thoughts.

El giggled at his reaction, jumping to sit on the table with her hands braced behind her hips and her legs swinging back and forth in the air. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I was just thinking on the best ways to remove blood from your dress," he said calmly, walking to stand in front of her. "Stop using your powers!" He exclaimed in quiet exasperation, gripping the sides of her head and shaking it gently.

She laughed, her hands covering his as she swayed with his movements. "Dramatic. If I only use them for a short moment, there is no blood."

"Still, you're on probation. We don't want to get you on the radar."

"Or do we?" She quirked an eyebrow up, a teasing smirk on her face.

He gave her an unimpressed look, his eyes just the right shade of disapproval for her to drop the smirk.

"Okay, sorry." She fingered the collar of his button up with a small pout. "I won't joke about that."

"Thank you." He smiled, touching her cheek with soft fingers and pushing a curl behind her ear with the other.

He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Her ankle was crossed behind one of his legs, her hand holding on the thick leather of his belt by his right hip while the other climbed from his collar to the soft hairs on the back of his neck.

He leaned down to close the space between them, meeting her lips in a soft kiss. That was a development in their relationship too. Once the Snow Ball passed and they started hanging out more, her curiosity and his overwhelming attraction for her led them to explore the kissing world. It was a familiar now; the way their lips tugged at each other's, the soft press of their mouths and the warm puffs of air as they breathed through their nostrils.

"Was this your plan all along?" He managed to mumble as she continued to kiss him, both of her arms around his neck.

"Hmm?" She made an inquiring noise, the humming sending vibrations from her mouth to his, making his lips tingle.

"To get me alone," he answered after a few minutes of silence. "So we could kiss."

He sighed deeply, blinking in daze as she leaned back from him. Her lips were moist, a bit swollen, and her eyes sparkled as she blinked back at him. It seemed like he wasn't the only one to lose track of his thoughts when they kissed.

"No," she finally responded, a small smirk tilting her lips. "But the result is welcomed, right?"

"I'm definitely not mad at it." He grinned as she reached for him, joining their lips in a more fast-paced kiss, the gesture a habit after months of practice.

And it was just in that moment that the door opened.

They jumped apart like an electric wire; Mike's hand automatically went to his mouth to clean any evidence of their activities as El jumped down from the table.

"Mike," Mr. Clarke greeted, his hand still wrapped around the doorknob and his eyes wide with shock, darting between one of his favorite students and his companion. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"I—", he coughed lightly, trying to get the husk out of his voice while El nervously twirled the end of her side fishtail-braid. "Sorry, Mr. Clarke. I was just showing El the AV Club room." He was blushing, he could feel it. His cheeks were warm and his neck was burning.

Scott Clarke's mind halted. As he observed Mike Wheeler pull at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, his eyes went back to the brunette next to him, trying to figure this out. El. Mike had called her El. He racked his brain, thinking of a reason as to why the obvious nickname tickled him in a bad way when it suddenly hit him.

"Eleanor. She's my… uhh—"

"Cousin." Lucas butted in.

"Second cousin." Dustin added.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike explained.

He stared at her, taking in the wide, brown eyes, the shiny lips and the face structure. She'd been a blonde, but Scott Clark was nothing if not smart. He had a photographic memory, one that had helped him over the years as a science teacher, and it was very difficult for him to forget a face. So while both pre-teens fidgeted in front of him, he tried to find a logical reason as to why Mike Wheeler was kissing his… second cousin.

"How's Sweden?" Mr. Clarke questioned finally, his eyes barely blinking as he tightened his hold on the doorknob and waited for the girl's answer.

El's eyes widened further, a frown on her face as she glanced confusedly at Mike. Why was Mike's ex-teacher asking her about Geography?

"What about it?" She asked quietly, playing with her fingers as she fidgeted on her feet.

It hit Mike there too.

His face broke in a wild look of pure panic, his eyes meeting Mr. Clarke's as the teacher's suspicions were confirmed by the ex-blonde's quiet voice.

"Uhhhh…" Mike interfered, his brain short-cutting as he tried to find something logical to say. "She's not… from Sweden, sir."

"Oh." Mr. Clarke said. He shifted in obvious uncomfortableness, twirling the keys on his fingers. "I thought—"

"We… uhm… we…" Mike trailed off, the tightness in his chest not letting his mind work properly. DAMN YOU, BOYS! He was mentally cursing Lucas and Dustin for being the ones to come up with the cousin lie. Mr. Clarke was probably thinking he was a hillbilly, screwing his cousin as if it was natural. Maybe he thought it was Swedish tradition. Damn, he could've probably passed it as a Swedish tradition! He could even imagine himself— "Oh, no, Mr. Clarke! It's a family thing. You see, in Sweden, it's tradition to welcome your cousin with a kiss on the lips! It's completely rude not to. That's the only reason why I would commit incest, but if my great-grandmother finds out I'm not following tradition, ugh. You don't even want to know."—but now that option was ruined because he'd just said El wasn't from Sweden.

He turned to El, hoping she'd have a good answer, but she only matched his panic as their eyes met.

What do we do?! He questioned with his eyes.

I don't know! She answered in agony. This is so weird!

He's my favorite teacher! I can't leave him to think I'm some kind of redneck who likes kissing his cousin!

… Do you trust him?

Yes, of course!

Do you trust him enough to tell him? Her eyes were sharper now, the topic she was talking about clear in her question.

Are you sure you want to tell him the secret? He frowned worriedly.

Only if he can keep it. El bit her lip in uneasiness, shrugging lightly as she gave him complete control of the situation. She only hoped he knew what he was doing and she prayed Hopper didn't find out about it.

Mike nodded, sighing deeply as he turned back to the teacher who had watched their whole exchange in awkward silence. "Mr. Clarke… we haven't been totally honest with you. Uh… El is not my cousin."

"She's not?" Mr. Clarke asked hurriedly, gasping out a relieved exhale as Mike shook his head. "Oh, thank God! I was beginning to think weird things were happening around here, Mike." The science teacher chuckled, a hand going to the knot in his tie to loosen it as he walked inside the room. "So, who is she? And why did you boys lie in the first place?" He frowned, taking a walkie-talkie from a shelf and waiting for Mike to answer.

"Uh…"

"Mike?!" A new voice yelled in the hallway, startling the three people inside the AV room. "Mike, are you here?"

Dustin appeared in the doorway, his face splitting into a huge, toothy grin when he spotted them. "Look what I found!" He walked in, dropping the numerous cans of chocolate pudding from his arms and onto the table.

"Dustin," Mike exhaled nervously, throwing anxious looks in the curly haired boy's direction to make him take a damn hint. "We were just explaining to Mr. Clarke that El isn't my cousin and that she's not from Sweden. Remember? Want to help with that?"

"Oh…" Dustin paused, meeting Mike's eyes first, then El's, and lastly Mr. Clarke's. With the subtlety he was oh so known for, he walked to the couple with quick strikes. "Are we going to tell him?" He asked obviously, way too loud for someone who wanted to be unsuspicious.

Mike glared at him, his mouth pursed in annoyance as El sighed and threw her head back, closing her eyes for a minute.

"Okay, so…" Dustin turned around, a fake grin plastered on his face as Mr. Clarke observed the scene. "Remember that one time Will died and we asked you about other dimensions and possible portals?"

"Uh… I mean, of course. How can anyone forget that day?" Mr. Clarke frowned, Will Byers' faux funeral on his mind as Mike walked to close the door, checking nobody was around for this.

"Well… meet our flea!" Dustin exclaimed brightly, grabbing El by the shoulders and thrusting her forwards.

"What?" Mr. Clarke frowned, blinking in confusion as Mike sighed deeply again, walking back from the door.

"Well, she's kind of an acrobat, just like us, but she has flea powers!"

"What?" Mr. Clarke asked again.

"What Dustin means to say," Mike said, taking his girlfriend back from the mentioned boy. "Is that El is kind of the answer for all the weird things that happened back then."

"Wait, what?" Mr. Clarke repeated.

"For a usually bright teacher, you're being kind of stupid now, Mr. Clarke." Dustin observed, apologizing when Mike shoved his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I just… I don't understand." The older man shook his head, taking a seat at the table. "I'm going to need some explanations here."

"Sure. Anything." Dustin nodded, taking a seat and pulling a can of pudding for himself, passing one to El.

"Just as long as you hear the full story first." Mike warned, following suit and pulling a chair to sit on.

"And you keep it to yourself." El added, speaking for the second time, gaining Mr. Clarke's attention. "Only certain people know this. But the boys," she paused glancing at Dustin, who was to her left, and at Mike, who nodded and took her right hand. "They trust you. And I am going to trust in you too."

With rapt attention and a free mind, Mr. Clarke proceeded to listen. He found out what really happened to Will Byers in the fall of 1983, why the school had been the meeting place for a government shooting, and how it all came back in 1984. His head hurt from all the information he received, but by the end of it, it made sense. All the 'hypothetical' questions, the power problem, Will's fake body and the DOE vans circulating around town. And these kids had never lied. Well, except for the cousin thing, but it didn't make sense to make all this up when it was about their lives.

"And now she's here. Dr. Sam Owens is helping Hopper with the legal stuff, but it's nearly over. They owe that to her." Mike stated fiercely, gripping El's hand in a tighter hold as their ex-teacher nodded pensively.

He looked up, eying El in quiet observation as he tried to picture her like the boys described. It made sense why he met her in a wig.

"And your powers? Do you still have them after the gate was closed?" He asked curiously.

El decided to show him rather than answer. She opened her palm, eyes intensely focused on the item rolling at the edge of the table and with a quick nod of her chin, a can of pudding flew into her waiting hand.

"Wow," Mr. Clarke exhaled in awe, moving his eyes from where the can used to be, to her hand and then to her face, meeting her eyes. "It's like you're a real life Jean Grey."

"I know, right?!" Dustin agreed excitedly, grinning at El who was smiling sheepishly at them.

"So, that's what that woman was after." Mr. Clarke thought aloud, his eyebrows lifting in realization.

"What?" Mike frowned.

"The week Will went missing… I think a day or two before he was found, a woman came to visit me at my house."

"A woman?" El asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she gave her complete attention to the teacher.

"Yes. She said she was interested in kids who were apt in technology or wanted to pursue careers in that department. She wanted to form some kind of group. She even said they were planning on giving the kids a space to write articles on. And then she asked me about who I thought could be interested in the project, and of course I said you guys. I gave her your names and your addresses, and she said she'd get in contact with you. And she did, clearly, just not in the way I was hoping for." Mr. Clarke sighed, rubbing his eyes as Dustin and Mike shared a look. "I guess I was just too excited with the opportunity for you guys that I didn't sense any kind of danger."

"It's okay, Mr. Clarke," Mike said soothingly, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Nobody could. It was kind of their job to not arouse suspicion."

"The woman," El started, her eyes still on Mr. Clarke. "Was she blonde? Short hair, blue eyes?"

"Yes," Mr. Clarke nodded thoughtfully. "I don't remember her name, but she matches your description."

"I know who she was." El nodded, thinking about the supposed social worker who had shot Benny in the diner. "She's dead."

"Oh," Mr. Clarke blinked, a bit uncomfortable by the way she seemed unfazed about the woman's death. "Well… she was an evil lady."

El sighed deeply, leaning back on her chair. "You don't know the half of it."

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, each thinking about different topics and scenes in their respective minds. The kids felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders; the natural feeling of sharing a secret and getting some closure from it. Mr. Clarke, on the other hand, was still reeling from the weight they had deposited on him. He knew it was a secret, a huge and dangerous one, if the names and procedures they shared were anything to it. It was like a huge conspiracy theory, only the literal living proof of it was sitting right in front of him, eating canned chocolate pudding with her fingers.

"We have your word nothing about this will leave this room, right?" Mike asked carefully, observing him through narrowed eyes as he fiddled with his thumbs.

"Of course," Mr. Clarke nodded with a discrete cough of uncomfortableness. He got lost in his thoughts, and that might have given the boys a bad picture. "This mouth," he made a zipping motion against his lips, gaining a grin from Dustin and a relieved nod from Mike. "Is sealed."

"This is why you're our favorite, Mr. Clarke, my Lord." Dustin said happily, a smudge of chocolate staining the corner of his lips, and Scott Clarke wasn't ready for the sudden wave of nostalgia that hit him square in the chest.

These kids were leaving. These amazing, smart, kind-hearted little goofs of sass would no longer be in his classroom, raising hands and giving answers with genuine interest which no other students presented. His lonely heart ached more by the minute, and he decided to shake it off before he actually cried.

"So, besides myself, who else knows?"

"You mean which adult?" Mike clarified, opening a pudding can for El. "Well, Will's mom, Mrs. Byers, Chief Hopper… and that's pretty much it."

"Wait, Chief Hopper knows?"

"What about Steve, Nancy and Jonathan?"

"He said adults, Dustin—"

"Steve is an adult."

"Harrington? He knows?"

"—can't even write a school essay alone, if that says-"

"—protected us all! He's great at giving advice. Besides, who can write an essay alone? I can't."

"That's just you being lazy."

"Excuse me, you accusatory ass—"

"I'm just stating facts! Don't get defensive just because—"

"-sorry, Mr. Perfect, who can't write an essay? Screw—"

"I'm not Mr. Perfect! You—"

"—can clearly see that—"

"—talk a lot for someone who has pudding all over his face—"

"Boys!" Mr. Clarke finally intervened with an exasperated sigh. "Stop it. This I won't miss, that's for sure."

That was a lie.

"Aww, Mr. Clarke. Don't go lying to my face like that. We all know you enjoy our bickering."

And they knew it.

He just chuckled fondly, giving them an amused nod while El just watched the whole exchange with a quiet smirk.

"We have to go," Mike said suddenly, standing up from his seat. "My parents are probably waiting for me-"

"Oh, shoot, my mom!" Dustin exclaimed, nodding quickly as he started grabbing the leftover pudding cans.

"Thanks for listening, Mr. Clarke," Mike smiled appreciatively, holding a hand out for El, who promptly stood up and held onto the extended palm. "I know she's safe with you."

"No worries there, Michael. You can trust me." He moved his gaze to the pink-wearing girl, directing his words at her. "You can trust me, Eleanor."

"I know," she said simply, shrugging lightly. "And my name is not Eleanor."

With that, she waved a hand in goodbye and pulled a grinning Mike from the room, leaving a confused Mr. Clarke alone with Dustin.

"What's her name then? And where did you even get these?" He asked as the curly haired boy piled the cans of chocolate pudding in his arms, standing up from his chair.

"Just El." Dustin replied, balancing a can under his chin, before focusing on more important matters than his telekinetic friend. "Hey, you're a teacher. The lunch ladies hide these, right? You must know! I always ask for a can and they go all 'oh, sorry, we're out' but that is a lie and they just love to hoard them, those absolute witches—"

"Dustin, did you steal these?"

"No," he said slowly, blue eyes wide over the rim of pudding cups. "It wouldn't be stealing, no, considering I'm a student and I have rights—"

"You're not a student here anymore." Mr. Clarke reminded lightly, amusement growing in his chest as he watched his ex-student blink rapidly. "But yes," he slowly reached for the two top cans, relieving Dustin of the struggle. "They hoard the pudding."

The curly-haired boy smirked knowingly, nodding his head. "Well, since I won't be around anymore, the duty of applying justice for the student body falls upon you, Mr. Clarke. Don't let me down."

"Wouldn't dream on it, Mr. Henderson." Scott winked, rising a can of pudding in a pseudo toast.

As he watched the boy exit the AV Club's room with his shirt-rolled-to-the-elbows arms full of cans, Scott Clarke smiled to himself.

That little Party of boys (and now girls, as he would later on see Max and El constantly around them) would surely go to great places someday.

But for now, he hoped they wouldn't find much trouble in High School. And even if they did, he hoped they remembered he was only a courtyard away if they needed him.

After all, they continually said he was their favorite teacher, and he knew that, even if they found another one, he would always hold them dear to his heart.

His little troop of AV boys, full of unpredictable secrets and love for pudding.