#last night was that one teacher in my school was a nonce | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danfanciesphil · 7 years ago

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L’Histoire Française (New Chapter)

Teacher AU (Part 10)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

(Part Four)

(Part Five)

(Part Six)

(Part Seven)

(Part Eight)

(Part Nine)

(Now Available on Ao3!)

“Sir, can you tell me how to conjugate verbs?”

“Hm?” Dan says, distracted.

He’s crouched beside a Year Eight student named Anna, a sweet young girl with a few learning disabilities. This period, he’s helping out in the Rainbow Rooms - a section of the school reserved for providing extra support to students that might need it. Anna suffers from Down Syndrome, and has dyslexia, so she’s somewhat of a regular here. Usually, aside from Phil’s classes, Dan’s absolute favourite lessons to assist in are these.

The kids here are all at different levels of progress, so their teacher is more of a supervisor than anything else. The students are told to get on with the work provided by teachers from their actual classes, and Dan and the other TA’s are asked to wander around the class and help with whatever they might need.

Soft, classical music is played to help concentration, and the classroom is decorated in soothing pastel colours, making it very aesthetically pleasing. Usually, these lessons pass by in a calm, tranquil breeze. Today however, Dan does not feel particularly relaxed. The Chopin playing is weaving under his skin, the sharp violin creeping beneath his fingernails, putting him on edge.

There’s a coloured-glass windchime rattling beside the open window, and the sound of the tinkling is making him cringe. He turns his attention to Anna’s workbook, trying to force himself to concentrate.

“I thought I’d remembered how to do it, but it’s confusing,” Anna says, sighing.

“Oh, right,” Dan says, refocusing. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

He reads over the page, not taking anything in, and then reads it again, tutting at himself.

“Right, so verbs - that’s just the term we use for ‘doing words’.”

Anna scoffs at him. “I know that. I’m not stupid, Mr Howell.”

Dan laughs, glancing at her annoyed expression. “I know, Anna, I’m sorry. I’m the nonce here, not you. I just need to spell it out for myself sometimes.”

“We’re gonna be here all day at this rate,” Anna says.

Dan laughs again. “Hopefully not. So, um, conjugating… well, I bet you’re doing it without even realising. Think of a verb.”

“Break,” Anna says, unexpectedly.

Dan blinks at her. “Break?”

“Yeah,” she giggles. “It’s break-time soon. It’s the first thing I thought of.”

“Well, break-time is a noun…” Dan says, mind already slipping back into a panic as he considers how close break-time really is, and all that it might entail.

“Yes,” Anna says, exasperated. “But break is a verb, too. To break a glass. To break into dance. To break a heart.”

Dan swallows. “Yep, um… okay. You’re right. As usual.”

Anna beams proudly. “It’s like I’m teaching you today, sir.”

“So, how would you conjugate the verb ‘break’ if you put the pronoun ‘he’ in front of it?”

“He breaks,” Anna says at once. “Ohhh, I get it.”

Dan nods, smiling weakly. “Try and put it in a sentence.”

“He breaks your heart.”

It’s like a slap to the face.

“Great,” Dan grits out. “Try and write a few sentences down.”

Dan thinks about getting coffee again, but he knows he’d just be stalling for time. He doesn’t need to be any more caffeinated for this, anyway. He walks slowly through the halls, urging a teacher to spot him and force him to do some menial task for the next twenty minutes.

He doesn’t even know what it is that he’s wanting to avoid, but his gut is telling him it’s nothing good.

As if fate specifically told everyone to leave Dan alone today, no teachers even spare him a glance. He’s left with the full twenty minutes of free time, which has not happened in days.

He finds himself outside of Phil’s classroom door far too soon.

He knocks out of politeness, and hears a familiar voice call, “Come in!”

He pushes open the door. Phil is sat at his desk, frowning at his sticker-covered laptop, open before him. There are no cat whiskers on his face, today. There’s nothing zany on the whiteboard. The classroom is actually rather mess-free, unusually.

“Hey,” Dan says. His voice is smaller than he means it to be.

Phil looks up at him, closing the lid of his laptop. “Hey.”

Dan shifts from foot to foot, feeling awkward. How is it that just yesterday he strolled in here full of pep and happiness, and let Phil kiss him against the closed classroom door?

“You wanted to talk-”

“How are you today?” Phil interrupts, voice strained. “I didn’t get to ask, earlier.”

“Um,” Dan says, thrown. “Fine. Well, I’m a bit…” Dan flaps his hand in the air, a demonstration of his inner turmoil. “Can you just tell me what John said to you this morning? Before I came in.”

Phil’s eyes are pained, as if he’s begging Dan not to ask. Dan kind of wants to listen to those eyes, to just stall for time and exchange pleasantries until the bell rings again and they have to postpone this talk until lunch.

But he can’t live with the anxiety, so he stares Phil down.

Phil sighs, relenting.

“Can you… sit down?”

Dan takes a deep breath, and closes the door behind him. He takes one of the student chairs and pulls it up to the desk, opposite Phil. It feels strange, to sit this way. It reminds him, weirdly, that Phil is technically his boss, which is a bizarre thought, considering he’s never really acted as superior to Dan.

Dan sits straight and tense, waiting for Phil to speak. He doesn’t, so Dan jumps in for him.

“We’re not going out tonight, are we?”

Phil reaches up and removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He slides them back on, and clears his throat, looking very much like he doesn’t want to reply.

He drags his eyes back up to Dan, tortured. It’s unexpected, when Phil reaches across the desk for his hand, but he slips his own into it anyway, helpless to refuse.

“We can’t,” Phil says at last. “I-I’m so sorry, Dan. This is all my fault.”

He trails off, eyes fixed on their joined hands.

“What did John say?” Dan asks again, though he thinks, deep down, he already knows.

Phil sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “He said… apparently there’s a rumour going around amongst the students. Specifically the ones that were on the Paris trip.”

“Lemme guess, one student in particular?” Dan says, bitterness infiltrating his words.

He really will have to kill Jonah Frank at this rate.

“He didn’t say,” Phil says. “I don’t think it’s fair to blame any of them, though. They’re just kids.”

“So what’s the rumour?” Dan asks, tilting his chin up in defiance.

Phil looks at him, one eyebrow raised. “You know what it is, Dan.”

Dan just holds his gaze, needing this spelled out if he’s expected to accept it.

Phil sighs. “The rumour is that two of the teachers on that trip were… fraternising, let’s say.”

“Okay,” Dan says, brows knitting. “But why does it even matter? It wouldn’t affect anything. And we didn’t even-”

“It’s against school policy,” Phil interrupts, his cheeks a little pink. “That’s what John came to tell me this morning.”

Dan just stares at him, speechless. “It’s…”

“Yeah,” Phil says. He releases his hold on Dan’s hand, leaning back in his chair. He combs a hand through his hair. Dan flexes his fingers, feeling the absence of Phil’s at once. “There’s a rule about it. No romantic relationships between faculty members.”

“But I’m… I’m just a TA, I mean-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Phil cuts in. “John made it clear. It could affect our performance, and the kids’ safety, apparently, if it were true.”

Dan swallows hard, tears of frustration leaping into his ducts. He feels helpless, like a child being disciplined for something he hasn’t even done wrong. How can it be fair that the Universe gave him Phil on a beautiful, gilded platter… and then snatched him back again, before they’d even gotten a chance to be together, properly?

“What do you mean, ‘if it were true’?”

“That’s the thing,” Phil says. “At the moment it’s just a rumour. Student claims can’t be substantiated without evidence. If they could, we wouldn’t have jobs anymore.”

“What?!” Dan exclaims. “We’d be fired over this? But… that’s not fair! We didn’t even know-”

“I knew.”

There’s a pause as Dan tries to comprehend this.

“You knew,” he repeats.

Phil puts his head in his hands. He peers at Dan through his fingers. “Yes.”

Dan scrapes his chair backwards, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. He wants to run out of here, to find some fresh air and gulp down lungfuls of it, but at the same time he doesn’t want to be away from Phil.

“Dan, please understand,” Phil begs, leaning across the desk towards him. “I knew about the rule, but I didn’t think… at first I just thought it was harmless flirting, and that I wouldn’t let it go any further, but then you came to my house, and you kept being so sweet… and then you said all that stuff to me on the boat, and I just… I snapped. I couldn’t take it, I had to kiss you, to show you that it wasn’t just you, y’know?”

Dan stares at him, shell-shocked. How can something as simple as an unrequited crush have suddenly become so horribly complicated?

“You could’ve told me,” Dan says after a minute, his mind whirling. “At the very least, you could have told me the risk. Maybe then we’d have hidden it better.”

“It’s no use, Dan,” Phil says, his voice desperately sad. He’s probably been over this in his mind a hundred times already. “By the time we… y’know… it was already too late. The kids had already made up their minds about what they wanted to think. After that night on the boat, I woke up in your bed, and you were still sleeping next to me. You had this sweet little smile on your face. And I just lay next to you and tried and tried to think of how we could make it work. I thought maybe John might overlook it because we’re friends, or that you being a TA rather than a teacher might change things, but it didn’t.”

“So that’s it, then,” Dan surmises, nodding blankly. A numbness is spreading across his skin, ice cold. “There are no options for us. Apart from one.”

“I’ve been racking my brain ever since we got home,” Phil confesses. “I thought maybe I could….” he sighs, shaking his head. “John isn’t sure of anything yet. He’s just suspicious because of what the kids are saying. We can still keep our jobs, as long as we…”

His sentence trails off, but it’s all too clear what he means.

As long as we end it now.

Whatever it was.

“I’ll quit my job,” Dan declares, eyes shining with defiance. “I never wanted it anyway, I only applied here as a last resort-”

Phil is already shaking his head. “You can’t do that, Dan. You don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s the middle of the school year, no other schools will take you. And you need the money. Not to mention, the kids need you.”

Dan scoffs at this last objection, but slumps in his chair, knowing the rest to be true. If he quit this job, he’d be penniless and jobless. His rent is due soon, and he’s only just going to be able to scrape by as it is. Paris, whilst free on travel and accommodation, was not cheap.

“This isn’t fair,” Dan whispers, looking up at the ceiling to try and prevent the tears from coming. “I just got you.”

Phil presses his lips together. “If I could do something to change it, I would.” He draws his hands to his lap. “Anything. I’d do anything.”

“I almost wish you’d never kissed me at all,” Dan says.

Phil looks at him like he’s been punched, and Dan wants to hoover the words back up.

“Almost,” Dan reiterates, his voice weak.

For once, Dan is glad he doesn’t have any classes with Phil on Wednesdays. He spends the rest of his day in a daze, barely able to function, let alone assist classes particularly well. In his fourth period he has Jonah for IT, but he avoids him, sticking by a student struggling with Excel on the other side of the class.

As the class files out, Jonah approaches him.

“Are you pissed at me or somethin’, sir?”

“Don’t be silly, Jonah,” Dan says, not looking him in the eye.

I don’t think it’s fair to blame any of them, Phil had said. They’re just kids.

“You usually say hello to me,” Jonah points out. “Did I do something wrong, sir?”

“I have to go, actually,” Dan says. It probably isn’t the best way to handle the situation, but he can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make him break down in tears. “See you next class.”

He can feel Jonah staring after him as he hurries out of the classroom.

There is one staff bathroom in the school, located just off the staffroom itself. It’s unisex, with three cubicles and three sinks. There is hardly ever anyone in it, and Dan doesn’t really know why. He thinks it might be because the caretakers only restock the soap and toilet paper infrequently. More likely though, it’s just because the staff tend to forget it’s there. The school has four other sets of student toilets, two on each floor. Most of them are probably a lot nearer to teachers’ classrooms, so they don’t need to trek down to the staffroom to relieve themselves.

Dan has a lot of time to think about all this, huddled in the farthest stall of the empty staffroom toilet for a full hour at lunch time. Nobody comes in for the entire time he’s there, and he’s incredibly thankful, because if they did, he’d have to explain why he’s been curled up in here all this time, not to mention his red, splotchy face.

He just needed to let it out, he’d told himself when he first snuck in here, one hour ago. Just a quick cry, and then back to work.

As it turns out, this was a foolish decision on his part. As soon as the cubicle door shut, Dan had burst into noisy sobs. His knees jellified beneath him, and he’d slipped to the ground.

The thoughts attacked him in their thousands. Every single naive little fantasy he’d conjured up over the past couple of days wormed its way into Dan’s head, only to be smashed to pieces by the reverberating gong-noise of Phil’s voice saying: ‘We can’t do this.’

He and Phil, walking Buffy through the park on a summer afternoon, holding hands as she skipped around their feet.

He and Phil, snuggled on his sofa, watching old anime classics and kissing in the bits they’ve seen a thousand times.

He and Phil, hot and feverish, tangled in the sheets of Dan’s bed, trying to be quiet and failing miserably.

He and Phil, sending each other silly texts during their work days, sappy messages about how much they miss each other, even though they’re right down the hall.

All of these scenarios, the thousands that Dan has created in his head since he met Phil - they’re all gone. Shattered into a million shards by a stupid rumour, an even stupider rule, and then blown away in a gust of wind.

It’s crazy, Dan thinks, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He’s reacting as if they’d been together for years. In reality, Phil was never even his to start with.

What did they have, that’s lost, really? A stolen kiss on a riverboat, fumbling and cold. A gropey make out session on a hard single bed. Some flirting and blushing, acting like the schoolkids they were supposed to be looking after. Another kiss, pressed against a closed classroom door.

Fragments of something that turned into nothing. A fleeting romance, killed by the bureaucratic system within which they both found one another. It’s nonsensical, to be so upset by something that never even was.

Not bothered with sense in the slightest, his heart aches.

The worst part is that Dan is going to have to find a way to carry on. He will have to walk the same halls as Phil, every day. He’ll have to help Phil in class twice a week, and let the cheeky comments the students make slide off his back like it doesn’t affect him. He’ll see Phil making coffee in the staffroom, or buying secret cookies at lunch.

Even thinking of Phil is enough to make Dan’s heart pang. It’s enough to bring more tears to his eyes. How can he be expected to cope, seeing him so often, for real, in the weeks, months ahead?

It occurs to Dan, as the bell rings, that one lunch hour is simply not enough time to deal with the emotions rampaging in his poor, stricken head.

“Dan, do you want in on the Dominos order?”

Teddy’s voice is muffled through the closed door of Dan’s bedroom, and even more so by the covers pulled over Dan’s head. He lifts them off briefly, pausing his episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“No, thanks.”

There’s silence then, so Dan turns back to his laptop, un-pausing it.

“Are you alright in there?” Teddy calls, forcing Dan to pause Buffy again. “You’re not sick are you?”

“I’m fine, Teddy.”

“I could bring you some soup, or-”

“I said I’m fine,” Dan shouts, hurling a pillow at the door.

“Alright, jeez.” Teddy says. “And I thought Ty was the drama queen in this house.”

He hears footsteps retreating, and he sighs. Buffy stares at him out of the screen, fearsome and beautiful. Her wooden stake is raised at shoulder height, ready to strike and kill.

“Must be nice to have something to stab whenever you need it,” Dan mutters to himself, and presses the space-bar.

He’s watched seven episodes already since he got in. That must be some kind of record. It’s been an okay distraction, as things go, but he can’t help being reminded of Phil, just because it’s his favourite.

He hasn’t eaten anything since this morning, but the thought of food is making him queasy, so he’s ignoring the fact he probably should. Even Dominos isn’t enough to tempt him.

Just as Buffy drives her stake into the heart of the third vampire this episode, Dan’s phone buzzes, lost somewhere in his duvet cocoon. He roots around for it, and brings it up to his face to see.

Phil *video file*

Dan frowns at his screen, his heart skipping when he reads the name. He opens his messages.

The video Phil has sent him is a link to a Vine, uploaded onto YouTube. He clicks it, curious, and watches a six second clip of a corgi twerking to Snoop Dogg’s ‘Wiggle’. He snorts with laughter, not expecting it, and clicks back onto his messages with Phil.

Dan r u looking at dog vines when u should be lesson planning again

Just before he hits send, his thumb hovers above the screen, his mind catching him. Exchanging witty banter with Phil over text is not going to make this situation any easier. Perhaps the best thing to do is just ignore it and move on.

He hits send.

“I have no self control,” Dan says aloud, groaning.

Phil ...no

Phil *video file*

This time it’s a baby sloth falling out of a tree. It lands in a pile of moss, unhurt, blinking in surprise. Dan giggles to himself beneath the darkness of his duvet.

Dan Stop texting me and get back to work

Phil but i miss you

The smile slips off Dan’s face.

Dan u cant say that to me

Phil sorry

Not knowing how to respond, Dan just locks his phone, placing it to one side as Willow and Xander flip through some ancient lore. The phone whispers to him, begging him to text again, but he stays strong, though it kills him a little.

Phil what are you doing? o.o

Dan srsly phil if u wanna break this off u cant send me cute texts

Dan its too hard as it is

Dan im already gonna have to see you every day and pretend like im not miserable

Phil you’re miserable?

Dan of course i am

Phil me too.

Phil *video file*

Phil that might be the actual reason im looking at cute animal vines

Dan is it working?

Phil no :(

Dan clicks the link Phil sent him with a sigh. It’s a video of a Pomeranian in a party hat, scoffing a cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Pom Pom’ written on the top. Its cute little face is covered in white frosting.

Dan tht dog looks a bit like Buffy

Dan mayb u should turn her into a vine star

Phil vine is dead dan

Phil and buffy says she’s too good for vine anyway

Dan hahaha. tell buffy i miss her

Phil buffy misses you too.

There’s a stinging sensation in Dan’s left eye. He can feel a lump positioning itself in the middle of his throat. Dan rolls onto his back then, his right hand coming up to ghost over the bruise at the base of his neck.

It’s all he has left of Phil now. In a few weeks, it’ll have faded, and then what will he have to remind himself that this was real? A few half-faded memories? A couple of texts?

It’s not enough, he thinks, a tear leaking out of his duct. It slides down his temple, splashing onto the pillow behind his skull.

His phone buzzes again.

Phil *picture message*

Dan opens it warily. As the image flashes up, he lets out a pained little noise.

The photo is of Phil, in his muppet pyjama trousers and a black Pink Floyd t-shirt. He’s got Buffy under one arm, and she’s licking his face, making him laugh. His other hand is taking the photo.

He looks so soft, so homely. He looks just as Dan dreamed he would, in the fantasies where he and Phil lounge around his pretty, colourful house together, in casual clothes or pyjamas, Buffy clambering over their laps.

Dan a low blow phil

Phil Buffy insisted on sending u a selfie

Phil i just helped her

Dan buffy is such a tease

Dan she looks very cute in that photo

Dan i really really wish she was here

Phil she wishes that too.

On Thursday morning, Dan is sitting at his own kitchen table, sipping coffee and debating whether to call in sick to work. He’s got around fifteen minutes still, before he has to walk to catch his bus. It’s not very often that he isn’t rushing to get out of the door, but he woke up early and his anxious mind wouldn’t let him get back to sleep.

He takes another sip of coffee, staring at his phone.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be that suspicious, if he were ‘sick’ suddenly. John might be a little annoyed, as he didn’t work Monday either, because they were coming back from Paris.

At that moment, Tyler strolls into the room, immaculate and pristine in his navy suit. He looks at Dan in surprise, walking to the fruit bowl to grab an apple.

“Dan!” He says brightly. “You’re up early.”

Dan just nods slowly, still thinking.

Tyler takes a bite of the apple, leaning against the counter. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Dan says distractedly.

“It’s just, usually you’re tearing around the house at this time, looking for your other sock, or a tie, screaming at me that you’re gonna miss your-”

“Look, I’m up on time for once, okay?” Dan snaps. “No need to alert the media, I’m not always a total fucking mess, you know.”

Tyler stops chewing, eyes wide. He lets out a low whistle. “Fucking hell, no need to bite my head off.”

Dan shuts his eyes, breathing out slowly. He can feel the irritation sitting beneath his skin, but he shoves it down as best he can.

“Sorry,” he grits out, scraping his chair backwards. “We can’t all be morning people.”

He throws the remainder of his coffee down the sink, splashing it everywhere. Tyler jumps back from the spray, looking at his suit jacket in alarm.

“What’s up with you, Dan?” Tyler asks, sounding a little annoyed. “I thought you were on cloud fucking nine at the moment. Why are you being such a twat to us?”

Dan just grabs a cloth, wiping up the coffee he just splashed everywhere, his teeth clamped shut.

“Dan, if you don’t tell me what’s up your ass, I’ll-”

“What?” Dan asks, spinning round to glare at him. “You’ll annoy me to death? You do that just fine anyway.”

Tyler looks momentarily angry, but it passes quickly. He places the apple to one side, his expression melting into one of sympathy.

“It’s hot teacher, isn’t it,” he surmises, his voice filled with pity. “Did something happen?”

Dan wants to shout at him. He wants to yell that it’s none of his fucking business, and that he should butt his big head out of it. Instead, he opens his mouth to scream, and instead starts to cry.

He takes one step and falls straight into Tyler’s chest, sniffling. Tyler holds him readily, not hesitating for a moment, his arms coming round Dan’s back.

“Aw, Dan, love,” Tyler says softly. “You’re gonna get my suit all damp.”

“You can stand one day of looking not-perfect, Ty,” Dan says, sniffling.

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dan sighs, leaning away from him. Tyler’s arm stays on his back, rubbing lightly. “It’s over, that’s all.”

“I don’t understand,” Tyler says. “I thought you were so into one another?”

Dan shrugs, checking his watch. “Things got in the way.”

“Things?” Tyler asks, confused. “I don’t-”

“Look, Ty, thanks for being nice, but I have to go.”

“Sweetie, if you need to talk about this-”

“Yeah, um, later,” Dan says vaguely. “I’ve got to catch my bus.”

“Wait,” Tyler calls, just as Dan is about to bolt out of the door. He pauses, turning back, despite really wanting to flee this conversation. “Don’t you have a class with him today?”

Dan nods dejectedly. “Third period.”

“Shit,” Tyler says, pitying. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

The one time Dan wants his lessons to stretch on, they go double speed. Mercifully, he’s given a load of copying to do for Mr Richstein during break-time, so he doesn’t see Phil all morning. But all too soon, it’s 10:55am, and he has nothing to do except make his way down the corridors to Classroom Nine.

He drags his feet and dawdles, but it doesn’t make any difference. He ends up there in no time, hovering outside the partly open door. This time, he doesn’t even bother knocking.

Phil is, for some reason, rolling out an enormous sheet of white paper across the length of the floor. It reaches from wall to wall, covering the entire classroom. He’s pushed all the tables and chairs to the edges of the room, leaving a huge gap in the middle for it.

As Dan edges inside, Phil looks up, his glasses slipped a little way down his nose. “Oh,” he says. “Hi.”

“I’m scheduled to be here,” Dan blurts out. “Today. At eleven. To assist.”

Phil smiles at him. “I know.”

Dan swallows, nodding. “Cool.”

Phil stands up then, stepping on tiptoes to the edge of the paper. “Um, maybe we should take our shoes off.”

“Right,” Dan says, obeying immediately. It’s only as he’s untying his second pair of laces, one hand braced against the wall, that he thinks to ask why. “Uh, any reason I’m getting my feet out?”

Phil chuckles at him, pulling off his own shoes. “So we don’t make any marks on the paper.”

“Right,” Dan says again. “God forbid.”

Phil laughs again. “I’d tell you what we’re doing today, but-”

“But you want it to be a surprise.”

“Oh no,” Phil says, standing up in just his socks. “I’m becoming predictable.”

“Never,” Dan replies, honestly.

There’s an awkward pause, and Dan uses it to find somewhere to stow his shoes for the next hour.

“By the way,” Phil tells him conversationally. “The timetable’s changed a little. We’ve got the Year Nine’s today.”

Dan looks up in shock. “What?”

“Yeah,” Phil shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Because they missed their History class on Monday due to the trip. So I switched with Mr Hawkins. He’s taking the Year Eight’s for Religious Studies, and I’m getting the Year Nine lot for this period. Just for this week, obviously.”

“But… but why?” Dan asks, a swell of panic rising in his chest as he considers the idea that they students from the Paris trip - the very students that blew up a very promising budding relationship with their cruel gossip - are going to be here in less than two minutes.

“Well, we just thought it was more important that they have the lesson today,” Phil shrugs, eyeing Dan confusedly. “They’ve got their mock GCSE’s coming up after all… and… Dan, are you okay?”

Dan is not okay. He’s struggling to remain calm.

“I just… didn’t realise.”

Phil watches him carefully, then steps onto the paper on the floor, as if he’s about to walk over.

“They won’t say anything, Dan,” Phil says quietly, dithering in the middle of the paper. “It will be okay.”

Dan meets his gaze, badly wanting to believe that. “How do you know?”

Before Phil can reply, three girls - Savannah, Caoibhe, and Gaeul all walk in, giggling about something. They stop short at the sight of the paper across the floor, looking at Phil for guidance.

“Shoes off, girls!” Phil cries, all seriousness wiped from his expression. “We’re having a socks-only lesson today.”

The girls laugh, slipping off their ankle boots and ballet pumps, then walking carefully across the paper to place them neatly at the side of the room with their bags. As the others file through the door, they follow suit, each bringing another bubble of excitement to the atmosphere.

Dan, perched up on one of the tables at the side of the class, just watches anxiously, waving and smiling as best he can at the familiar faces.

“Hi, sir!” They call brightly, sensing nothing amiss.

“Hey, Mr Howell, how’re you?”

“Bonjour, Mr Howell!”

Finally, Jonah bowls through, grinning and calling his greeting to Mr Lester, like nothing is wrong, like he hasn’t destroyed everything with his carelessness.

Dan hides a scowl, and tries to tell himself to remain professional.

Once everyone is inside, their shoes removed, they sit cross-legged on the large blank canvas beneath them, and Phil introduces the class. They’re going to be creating a mural, based around the Paris trip. Everyone will draw their favourite memory, and relate it to a piece of Parisian history from the time period they’ve been focusing on. They can draw anything, as long as it’s relevant and appropriate.

Penises, Phil reminds the class, are not permitted.

The class get to work at once, grabbing the coloured pencils, chalks, and pens Phil hands out in big tubs. They talk amongst themselves, busy creating their masterpieces, so Dan hops down to wander through them all, peering at their drawings.

“Sir, you’ll smudge my design!” Katie complains, batting at Dan’s socked foot as he walks by her.

“Oops, sorry,” he says, stepping backwards.

“Sir, you’re walking on my Eiffel Tower!” Matthew cries.

Dan apologises profusely, and makes his way quickly to the edge of the class, where Phil’s desk is, trying to avoid any more disasters. Phil giggles at him, perched on the edge of his desk like a deity overlooking his Kingdom.

“Perhaps you should design something for the mural too, Mr Howell,” Phil suggests, holding out an array of pencils to him.

Dan gives him a withering look. “I knew this was all a ploy to get me to draw again.”

Phil chuckles. “Told you I’m becoming predictable.”

Dan sighs, rolling his eyes, and takes a few of the pencils from his hand, trying not to focus on the way his fingers drag over Phil’s.

“What do I draw, then?”

“What’s your favourite memory from the trip?” Phil asks.

Seconds after the question leaves his mouth, he seems to realise how loaded it is, and blushes, looking away.

Dan doesn’t look at him either, trying to focus on coming up with literally anything remotely appropriate to draw.

“As if you need to ask him that, sir,” Jonah calls to Phil, smirking.

Dan fixes him with a glare. “That’s enough, Jonah.”

“Aw, lay off, sir,” Jonah replies, glaring right back at him. “I’m only sayin’ what everyone already knows. Your favourite memory of Paris isn’t gonna be the fuckin’ Champs-Elysee is it?”

“I mean it, Jonah,” Dan says, standing up straighter. “Pipe down.”

“How exactly are you gonna draw you and Lester suckin’ face, anyway?” Jonah asks, chin jutting out defiantly. “Chalk and charcoal?”

“I said that’s enough!” Dan shouts.

“Dan,” Phil says softly, his voice a warning. Dan ignores him.

“For God’s sake, Jonah, it’s not appropriate for you to make those kind of comments!”

A slow smirk spreads over Jonah’s face. “Struck a nerve did I, sir?”

“Jonah, I am warning you-”

“Oh go blub to your boyfriend about it,” Jonah says, rolling his eyes.

The rest of the class have stopped drawing now. They’ve stopped their chattering too, nineteen pairs of eyes fixed on Dan and Jonah, their mouths open in shock.

Dan grits his teeth. He can already feel the anger rushing through his bloodstream, churned up by Jonah’s insolent behaviour. He’s not going to be able to choke it down this time.

“Get out,” he snarls. Jonah stares in surprise.

“What?”

“I said get out of this classroom, Jonah Frank.”

“Dan,” Phil hisses at him, one hand on Dan’s arm. Dan pulls free of him, furious. “Dan, you can’t just-”

Dan stalks over to the door then, stamping over several students’ drawings as he goes, though nobody says a word. He pulls open the door, fixes Jonah with a hard stare, and gestures to the hall outside.

“I’m not going to ask again.”

“Sir, can he do this?” Jonah asks, turning his attention to Phil.

Phil swallows, turning to Jonah. “Mr Howell is just as much of a superior to you as I am, Jonah. If he feels you are misbehaving, he can discipline you however he sees fit.”

“So, you agree wiv’im?” Jonah asks, cross now. He gets to his feet, throwing a piece of chalk down in anger.

“Yes,” Phil says, though he doesn’t seem happy about it. “Do as he says, Jonah.”

“This is bullshit, an’ all,” Jonah growls, but stalks through the open door into the hallway, pulling it closed behind him.

“Wait out there, Jonah!” Dan calls.

“Alright everyone,” Phil says weakly. “Back to work.”

Reluctantly, the kids return to their drawings, whispering quietly. Dan doesn’t need to wonder what they’re all saying. He passes a hand over his face, wondering what the fuck he’s doing.

As Dan looks up, he notices Phil starting to pick his way through the kids towards him, and swallows, sensing the incoming storm. Phil is calm, aiming strained smiles and encouraging comments at the students, but as soon as he gets close enough, he takes Dan by the arm. Dan just lets it happen, allowing himself to be led without a struggle to the very edge of the classroom, as far from the students’ earshot as possible.

He tries to brace himself for a telling off, and has a quiet word with his own body that no matter how stern and teacher-y Phil gets with him, he is by no means allowed to get aroused by it.

“Look, Phil, he was being disrespectful,” Dan says immediately, wanting to try to get his word in first. “He’s been saying that shit for way too long, it’s not appropriate-”

“Dan, do not even try to tell me that this wasn’t a personal vendetta against one individual.”

Dan shuts up, sighing. “He had it coming.”

Phil groans in exasperation. “Dan, you have to see how bad this is. You can’t just send students out of my class without telling me.”

“You said you agreed!”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Phil asks, his voice low so the others won’t hear. “Say you were wrong? Undermine you in front of the whole class?”

“But I’m not wrong!” Dan fires back, frustrated. “You know his behaviour is inappropriate, I’m only doing what you should have done weeks ago-”

“Do not tell me how to do my job, Dan.”

Dan blinks at him, taken aback by the harshness of his tone. Phil has never spoken to him so sternly before. His serious expression is gone in a flash, but it doesn’t matter. It will stick in Dan’s mind forever, probably.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go and get him back in.”

Phil sighs, catching Dan’s wrist as he starts to head for the door. He drops it quickly, remembering where they are. Dan feels the fingers slip over his skin, and winces.

“No, look,” Phil starts. “It’s fine. It’s done now. I’ll go and speak to him, tell him not to say that stuff anymore.” Phil looks heavenward. “Not that I have any idea how to begin that conversation…”

“I’ll do it,” Dan says softly. “This is my mess. I’ll clear it up.”

Phil pauses, considering. He chews his lip. “Okay. But… can you do me a favour?”

“Anything,” Dan says, too quickly. He curses himself for saying it, eyes slipping shut.

“Just… don’t be too harsh on him,” Phil says, his voice a little croaky again. “He’s not a bad kid. He just teases people. But it’s a sign of affection.”

Dan looks at Phil, a realisation dawning over him. “I screwed up the rapport you’ve built with the most troubled kid in school, didn’t I?”

Phil shrugs, tiredly. “I hope not.”

(Part 11!)

#phan #l'histoire française #teacher au #phan teacher au #my fics #sorry for the sadness!

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