Cover image is owned by kkumri on tumblr.

I decided I might as well start a oneshot collection for these dorks ^.^ Because let's be honest, they don't get enough love~

I'm mostly going to follow Imagine Your OTP prompts, but I may just write from my own head sometimes. I hope you enjoy, Stingue fans! And please, every review is appreciated!

Verse: High School AU (Sophomore Year)
Rating: T
Prompt: I take my grades very seriously and you're the lazy asshole who asks a ton of off-topic questions to distract the professor and I might be a foot shorter than you but I swear to god I'll fight you.

Rogue chews on the end of his pencil, thinking intently about the equation on the board. He currently sits in Geometry, and his professor is currently giving them a pop quiz on the board. Rogue's paper already has calculations all over it, the first two problems having been a breeze. He neatly prints the next step of the problem on his paper, hoping that he's doing it right.

"Professor, sir?" a familiar voice calls from behind Rogue. The dark-haired boy holds back a groan.

"Yes, Eucliffe," the professor sighs. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering, when are we going to use this in real life?"

A few people in the class snicker. Rogue feels like banging his head on his desk. He absolutely despised the blond boy who sat behind him. He was everything Rogue hated: a cocky, lazy asshole who thought he was perfect. Every time he was expected to do pretty much anything, he would ask stupid questions one after another to distract the professor. Unfortunately, the professor continued calling on him, as he had a philosophy that "questions are the best way to learn."

"Well," the professor responds calmly, "this would be extreme help if you became an architect, engineer, or a construction worker."

A creaking sound comes from behind Rogue, causing him to turn around. Sting's leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. A ridiculously smug grin is glued to his face as he replies with ease, "But what if you think all those jobs are fuckin' stupid?" Several people burst out laughing at this, bending over their desks and snorting hysterically.

Rogue's eyebrow twitches, and he decides to try and ignore him. He turns back around, bending over his paper again. 'Okay, so, you need to use the Pythagorean Theorem... So B equals 7...'

"Well, Eucliffe, not everyone in this class thinks the same as you do." The professor's smile is very forced as he picks up the dry-erase marker once more. "Problem number 4."

"That's debatable."

At that, Rogue snaps. He whirls around in his seat, standing up as he does so. Looking the smug asshole straight in the eye, he stands up tall and fires back with, "Look, unlike your self-centered ass I actually give a shit about my education, so I'd appreciate it if you'd shut the fuck up and so I can pass this class without your stupid comments every goddamn second!"

The entire class falls silent, not expecting the shy, nerdy kid to stand up for himself in such a way. His confident, slightly mouthy tone took everyone by surprise, including the ever-witty Sting Eucliffe.

He closes his mouth, which had dropped open once Rogue had stood up, and quickly responds with, "Sorry, cutie, I didn't realize you actually cared so much." His tone is mostly condensending, yet to Rogue's shock, there is a slight bit of sincerity. "You never say a word normally."

"You don't have to always talk to make it far in life," Rogue retorts. "That's probably something you should try to cram into that thick skull of yours. I'm sure there's plenty of room, considering you never use much of your brain to begin with." Half the class makes remarks like "buuuurned" or "shots fired" or "damn, he gotcha".

The professor clears his throat, looking slightly overwhelmed, "Boys, please-"

Sting's chair falls back onto its four legs with a bang. "You're a feisty one, aren't ya?" he smirks, standing up to face Rogue. "You know, if you were really smart, you wouldn't have started somethin' with me that you're obviously going to lose."

Rogue seems to take Sting's words as a challenge. "Oh really?" he says confidently, leaning towards Sting. "What exactly is 'losing' in a situation like this? No matter the outcome, I've still had my voice heard. Not everything in life is about victory, dumbass."

As the class went into an uproar again, Sting's smirk only grew wider. "You're pretty clever, kid, I'll give you that." He tears off a corner of his blank quiz paper, scribbles something on it with his slightly-broken mechanical pencil, and passes it to Rogue. The professor somehow manages to quiet the class down, and Sting promptly sits down. He acts completely unfazed, as if he didn't just get challenged by the shyest kid in the class.

Rogue takes his seat as well, quickly finishing problem problem #3. Frowning deeply, he finally looks at the note Sting left on his desk. 'If you're so keen on getting good grades and hate interruptions, why'd you waste class time yelling at me? Text me ya bastard, I still have a few things to say to your cute little face. ;)' Right below the message was a phone number.

Rogue feels his face burn as he shoves the note into his jacket pocket. He glances at #4, but finds that his mind is completely preoccupied by the hot asshole who sits behind him. Even now, Sting Eucliffe was distracting him from his work.

Figures.