Chapter Text
Stede is so excited. It sounds like an awful cliche, but it genuinely feels like the first day of the rest of his life. A brand new career stretching out before him, full of possibility. And even better, he knows that his father would absolutely hate it. Not that they’ve spoken for… well, over a year now. Not in all the time it’s taken Stede to divorce his wife, and gain his teaching qualification.
He’s practically giddy as he walks the halls of his new, if temporary, school trying to remember his way to the staffroom from the interview day, back before the summer. The sun is still shining, like it doesn’t know summer break is over, and it’s bathing the halls in a bright, fresh light. Everything looks shiny and new, though that’s probably just the fresh coat of paint and the lack of teenagers scuffing along the corridors.
Stede finds the staffroom and selects the least unappealing mug from the communal cupboards. He quietly resolves to bring his own mug the next day. Then, he makes himself a cup of tea, selecting a bag from the vat supplied by the school and adding a mental note to bring his own supply of tea bags as well.
The Headteacher kicks off the day by briefing the staff, welcoming them to the start of another school year and then explains the programme of training sessions that will take place over the day, before sending them off to the first one.
He’s just sat down in one of the larger classrooms, brand new notebook and freshly filled fountain pen at the ready, eager to take everything in, when he makes the mistake of casting his eyes around the room. And it is a mistake, because just at that moment quite possibly the most attractive man Stede has ever seen in his entire life, enters the room.
Now, Stede has only recently realised that he’s even actually attracted to men, so that’s a thing. He hasn’t even really had the chance to do much about that, what with how busy he’s been, balancing co-parenting with Mary and his teacher training course. But, that’s not even the whole thing. Because we’re talking, painfully beautiful. Makes your breath catch in your chest and all thoughts spill from your head beautiful. The sort of beautiful that warrants the use of words like ethereal and exquisite.
Which is maybe odd as the word ethereal tends to put Stede in mind of fine gossamer, and delicate wings, pale skin, and white blonde hair, and this man is none of those things. In fact, he could well be described as the opposite of all those things. Dark, crisply cut trousers and shirt, combined with heavy black boots. Warm, golden skin and long dark hair, laced with silver, swept up into a knot at the back of his head. He doesn’t even move ‘ethereally’. Rather stomps and slouches his way around the room to a seat tucked away in the far corner, and yet it’s still the most beautiful thing Stede has ever seen.
And suddenly, the year stretching out before him seems slightly less like a blessing, and starts to feel a little more like a challenge because Stede has no idea how he’s meant to focus on anything at all when this man exists in his immediate vicinity.
*
Stede’s a fool. He’s standing at the front of the class, his first ever class, of his first ever teaching job and he has absolutely no idea how to get the projector on. The class are snickering and fidgeting and he thinks he probably has mere moments until he’s lost control of them forever.
If only he hadn’t spent the entire day yesterday ogling that ( incredibly ) beautiful man. He clearly missed ‘lesson 1: operating the technology’ whilst his brain was off memorising the twists of silver in his hair, or the sharp cut of his silvery scruff-covered jawline.
Okay, there’s nothing for it. He needs to seek help.
“One moment please!” Stede chirps to the class, ignoring the eye rolls of the teens filling the room and skips quickly into the corridor and to the closest door, the one directly across the hall. He knocks and then pokes his head in and… oh no, it’s him.
The beautiful man.
God, he’s gorgeous.
Focus on the task at hand, Bonnet!
“Hi, sorry!” He stage whispers, hoping it covers the waver in his voice. “You couldn’t help me with my projector could you?”
The possible god-of-beauty graciously accepts Stede’s request, though unenthusiastically enough that Stede worries he’s already being an irritant. And so, rather than using what he’s learnt from years of irritating people, Stede does what he always does and starts to babble.
The heavenly vision says very little in response to Stede’s verbal diarrhoea, but follows Stede back to his classroom and starts rummaging through his desk. Stede tries not to be too obvious about watching him, and hopes the teens in the room can’t detect the large hearts that have replaced his eyes.
Beauty-personified can’t find what he’s looking for and approaches the projector instead, reaching up to press one of the buttons and… oh . His shirt pulls free of his waistband as he stretches, revealing the most deliciously distracting sliver of soft, tantalising skin. Stede has to clench his teeth together to stop any embarrassing noises escaping. Doubly so when this actual masterpiece of a man reaches up once more to show Stede which button he needs.
“I’m Stede, by the way,” he suddenly blurts, words escaping without consulting his brain and, well, apparently he’s holding out his hand as well, and wouldn’t that be something? To know the feel of this man’s skin against his own.
Calm down, Bonnet.
Oh God, but there it is. Beautiful bronzed fingers curling around Stede’s palm sending electrical currents zipping through his entire being.
“Ed,” the man says.
His name is Ed.
*
Stede finds himself behind Ed in the queue for the microwaves at lunch and somehow summons the courage to speak to him again. Sits with him to eat too, because he just can’t help it, and finds that not only is Ed the most beautiful being on the planet, he’s also funny too. Stede’s own personal favourite flavour of funny. They spend the break laughing together, and goodness, improbable though it may seem, Ed’s somehow even more beautiful when he laughs.
For the remainder of the week, Stede doesn’t get a chance to speak to Ed again, though his eyes seek him out constantly. He’s half grateful, half concerned for his own sanity, that Ed’s classroom sits opposite his own. It means he gets to glimpse Ed often, moving around inside his own room, coming and going to meetings.
The English department, and apparently a whole host of other staff members, are going to a nearby pub for some after work drinks on Friday. It’s something of a weekly tradition he learns, and thinks ‘here’s the perfect opportunity to spend some more time with Ed’.
He’s all barely contained excitement when he knocks on Ed’s door at the end of the day. But Ed’s busy. He’s clearly busy, with piles of paperwork all over his desk. He lets Stede down gently, but Stede can feel the embarrassment washing over him. Of course Ed doesn’t want to come with him. Ed could have sought Stede out any time this week. Their classrooms are probably 5 metres apart, for goodness sake. But he didn’t. Stede’s come on too strong, been a whole lot of ‘too much’, as usual.
“Of course,” he says. “I’ll leave you alone.”
And he means it too. Stede can take a hint.
He goes for drinks anyway, always too polite for his own good. Determines to try to make some other friends at school, at least.
He’s ordering a drink at the bar when one of the other teachers asks Stede if he knows Mr Teach outside of school. When Stede tells her that, no, they’ve just met, she looks shocked and tries to explain that she can’t remember the last time she saw Ed willingly spending time with another member of staff. And that makes Stede feel a confusing mix of sadness for Ed, and panic that he really has foisted himself unwantedly onto this incredible man.
*
Ed’s waiting for Stede at morning briefing on Monday. Well, maybe not waiting for him, but he is standing at the little table where they’d shared lunch that first day. The same little table Stede had been standing at every morning since, silently hopeful that Ed would join him and take up the space beside him. But Ed hadn’t, until now.
Stede hesitates. He’s overthinking. He’s just spent the whole weekend overthinking. Resolving to keep out of Ed’s (magnificent) hair. To not force his company on him. But now Ed’s here, standing in what Stede has been horribly, hopelessly, romantically thinking of as ‘their spot’. And it feels like an invitation. Or an offering.
Stede tentatively steps up beside him. Whispers an anxious ‘hi’ and feels every drop of tension simply melt out of his body when Ed smiles back at him, eagerly with those little crinkles in the corners of his eyes.
Teachers continue to pile into the room, and Stede is forced to squish in closer to Ed and… god . He can barely breathe for the warmth of Ed’s arm pressed against his own. Ed’s scent, woodsmoke and leather, wrapping around him so fully that he entirely forgets the usual lingering, fusty scent of the staffroom. He hopes the Headteacher isn’t saying anything important because Stede can’t hear him over his own thundering heartbeat.
It quickly becomes routine for Stede to start his days, thrown off balance by Ed’s proximity in the staffroom. Every day he has to try to recollect his scattered brain cells before he gets up in front of his first class, has to try and squash all those increasingly intrusive thoughts of Ed into a little box in the corner of his brain. He’s going to need a bigger box soon. Possibly lined with lead.
Despite that, the words of that other teacher keep rotating in Stede’s mind. That Ed doesn’t spend time with other staff members. And the more he watches Ed (discreetly and in a completely non-creepy way) the more he realises it might be true. He so rarely sees Ed talking to anyone else, and when he does the conversations are clearly about work, formal and perfunctory. It makes Stede’s heart ache for him, especially when they’ve had so little time to chat with each other, despite their morning briefings together.
It’s enough that one Thursday lunchtime Stede finds himself making an extra cup of tea in the staffroom. Adds the exorbitant amount of sugar he’s seen Ed add to one of the mugs and then carries them carefully back to Ed’s classroom.
The door is shut but he manages to knock with his elbow, and then, after a moment of precarious rattling, gets the handle down in the same way. And miraculously no tea is spilt! Well, until he waves the mugs demonstratively at Ed and slops some over the sides. Damn .
Ed seems a little taken aback to see that Stede has brought him tea. Even more so when he discovers that Stede’s been paying enough attention to know just the way he likes it. The tea, that is.
Quiet, brain!
Stede takes in the chaos of Ed’s desk and rather reluctantly, but rather magnanimously says “you’re busy. I’ll let you get on.”
“No, I’m not,” Ed quickly protests, and then sweeps all the paperwork on his desk to the side, some of it cascading onto the floor. “Not busy at all.”
Stede can’t help but laugh at this. Ed’s just as much a maniac as he is, he thinks. Perfectly matched. But no, that’s his brain getting away from him again. Reign it back in. Get the lid on that box in his brain.
In the end, at Ed’s insistence, Stede stays and they pass the lunch break swapping stories and eating Stede’s biscuits and, maybe the lids not quite secure on his brain box but Stede thinks there might even be a little, tiny, tentative bit of flirting when Ed asks him if he has any tattoos. Stede isn't even really sure how to flirt if he’s honest so he tries for earnest and heartfelt and honest instead. He hopes it’s enough to let Ed know that… well, something. That he likes Ed, maybe. Or that he’s open to more. Or maybe even that if Ed asked him to, Stede would get on his bike with him right now and ride off into the sunset.
Probably not that one. That’s probably a bit much.