Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job. Greg did, or he wouldn’t be going above and beyond in the ways that he had. He didn’t *have* to direct the musical or offer his space as a place for some students to eat lunch, but he did. So the choir director felt justified in a small bit of annoyance in having to leave so early on the first day of school. 

Being home was nice. Of course there were still some meetings and he still had to create lesson plans, but the majority of the summer could be spent with his kids, as it should be. If Greg had his way, he wouldn’t be working a full time job, but it was just part of being an adult. He had to provide for his family, and if he managed to find a way to do that and sing, then the man really couldn’t complain. 

All that being said, it hadn’t been hard for Greg to say goodbye this morning. Even for someone who presented as pessimistic, as he was well aware he did, there was still a bit of the ‘first day of school’ excitement that he couldn’t suppress. At least the small pit of happiness was enough to sustain him on the ride into work. It was familiar, the way that most positive feelings slipped away as the choir director parked and made his way into the Pinewood building. He wouldn’t go as far to say that he didn’t want to be here, but some of the other teachers had- he’d just say ways of showing their excitement, that didn’t quite jive with the choir director’s view of the world or general demeanour. 

On the first day of school, the hallways were swarming with absurdly happy heads of department (fine, there were two, but Alice and Charlotte took up so much space with their exuberance that it felt like an entire pack). Greg had known this, and had even attempted to avoid it, but the bloodhound-like nose of a certain Alice Levine had led her directly into his personal space. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t respect space or anything. Alice was generally a very nice and kind person, and if it had been a normal day, Greg would have even appreciated the way that her analytical mind saw the world. But on the first day of school, it always seemed as if the female heads of department were hopped up on Adderall. For most of them, it had only been about two weeks since they’d talked to anyone, but from their general peppiness, Greg would have guessed about a decade. 

The choir director was grateful that he wasn’t the head of the department on most days. Even if he had some ideas on how to improve the music department (and he did), it wasn’t worth the additional work. Unfortunately, there were some people who loved the additional work- and one of them was currently about two inches from his nose. 

If excitement had a smell, Greg would be swimming in it. It was already bad, but somehow it increased even more when Alice started speaking.

“Good morning Greg! Are you excited for the first day?”

Apparently the choir director’s deadpan stare wasn’t enough to answer the question, but Greg levelled Alice with it for a few more seconds anyway. It wasn’t as if she’d care. 

“I’m practically jumping for joy,” he said eventually, his face betraying how untrue that was. Normally the others could read facial expressions, but not on the first day. Greg could get away with almost anything today, as long as he said it deadpan and maintained that it was a joke afterwards. He knew from experience. 

Greg could only assume that he’d been the last person to fulfil Alice’s ‘rounds’ on the first day, because otherwise she’d never had left the non-conversation she was having with him. However, he wouldn’t take the perky tap of her heels going *away* from him for granted. It was highly unlikely that anything else would supersede that luck. 

Even as he was finally on his way to the green room, Greg knew that something was going to happen. The only way that he could self-isolate in his room was if nobody was interested in talking to him, which Alice had already proven that for at least today, that wouldn’t be possible. It would be a matter of time before someone approached him- and the choir director would prefer that the inevitable socialising happened now and before he had to interact with students.

Greg had almost made it to his room when he smelt, yes smelt, the telltale smell of one Richard Ayoade. It wasn’t that he had body odour or anything like that, thankfully. But it had always seemed to Greg that the band director overcompensated for the perceived notion that somehow Richard had only gotten head because Greg refused. That had never been the case, but Greg had repeated it enough times that he now knew that his efforts would be useless. 

“I hope you’re just setting your bag down, Gregory.” 

It was good to know that some things never changed. If Greg was the kind of person to be comforted by a nasally voice, he’d never have to go to therapy again. Unfortunately, he wasn’t, but romanticising Richard’s adherence to routine was about the only way that the choir director could continue to deal with it. 

Richard had continued to speak, like normal, while Greg’s thoughts were taking their sweet time getting in line. As a result, Greg had to have missed something, because it was highly unlikely that the band director had just said the words ‘staff meeting’. On the first day of school. There had never been one of those on the first day before- for good reason. Most teachers had their first day routines to complete, had papers to print, other things to set up. Time for a staff meeting was not in the cards- Greg refused to believe it was, at least. 

“Staff meeting?” The choir director’s voice was incredulous, his surprise peeking through the unbothered facade that he attempted to keep up, at least in front of people that he didn’t care for all that much.

“The heads, myself included, decided that since there are so many new colleagues this year, it would be a good idea to introduce everyone.”

Okay, so it had been Richard’s idea. That much was clear, but Greg still wasn’t completely understanding why this couldn’t have been an email. Of course, he wouldn’t have read the email, but it wasn’t like he really interacted with many of the other teachers unless he had to- and if he had to interact, then he’d learn their names. It really didn’t matter otherwise. 

Sure, maybe there was a good reason, but if *anyone* could name a singular reason why Greg needed to know anyone else in the school besides his fellow music department people, he’d give them 50 quid. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m already on my way,” the choir director said breezily. He’d have to show up, especially if Richard had tracked him down to tell him about it personally, but it would probably be in the auditorium that was right across from his classroom. It would take him all of two minutes to get there.

“It’s not in our auditorium, Gregory,” Richard replied, guessing (correctly) where Greg’s line of thought had gone. “It’s in Chesham, and you’re expected there in 15 minutes.”

So he *didn’t* have to go anywhere right away. Richard had always been bad at understanding how long it took to do something, as evidenced by the strides the other man was already taking in the direction of the ‘underclassman’ building. 

It didn’t even make sense for the meeting to be over there. Charlotte, John, Richard, Alice, and even Katherine were centred in Pinewood- only Kerry was in Chesham. But Greg wasn’t paid enough to actually care about the weird locations of weirdly timed meetings. All he had to do was show up, speak when indicated, and escape as soon as he could. It had become quite a polished process over multiple years of staff meetings. 

Even if Richard had to show his face at these meetings, it wasn’t if Greg didn’t have a way to say what he needed to, *if* he needed to say anything. The pair of them basically made up the music department, after all. The other two were either too new or too far away to be included. 

In the end, the choir director decided to follow Richard’s suggestion of putting his stuff down and heading over. If worse came to worst, he had his phone. Being known as one of the more stoic teachers had its benefits, even if that description didn’t actually describe him. 

Apparently he wasn’t the only person to have the idea at the same time. As Greg passed the science wing, Richard Herring  emerged, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else than heading to a staff meeting.  At least that was a sentiment that Greg shared.

The two of them seemed to fall in step on the way over, after the customary acknowledgement nod. Although Charlotte was the only science teacher that Greg had a particularly strong opinion about (that she was too perky and she was going to burn herself out someday), he’d never liked Richard Herring that much. Sure, he didn’t know the man very well, but it was just…something. Greg didn’t have much more than a vibe, though. Whatever that physics teacher was, he didn’t act like that around men. It wouldn’t have even bothered him that much- but Richard had a son, and Greg had his two daughters. The choir director could confidently say that in a case like this, children always came first. Especially his own. If he hadn’t lived in Wem, Greg probably would have already had a plan in place to ensure that his daughters would not have to interact with that man.

Of course, Greg could be wrong. Richard Herring could be a lovely person and a great teacher. But he could also be something else, something that Greg wasn’t sure how had even gotten into the school. Sure, it was a public school, but the choir teacher wouldn’t continue working here if he had the understanding that it was the type of place that employed any -philes, specifically ephebophiles. He’d think that would show up in a background check or something. But it was the science department- most decidedly not his jurisdiction. If anything was going to happen, Charlotte would be the one involved. 

At the very least, Rich didn’t try to engage Greg in any conversation, and both men reached the Chesham lounge without much incident. Richard  made his way over to the science section while Greg joined Richard and Ed Gamble. He didn’t know many others, but he didn’t need to. Sure, the point of this meeting was *technically* to learn more people’s names, but Greg had never shown up for a staff meeting prepared for what the technical purpose of the meeting was. It probably correlated with the fact that most of these meetings didn’t have anything to do with him- but again he didn’t want to actually think about it too much.

As planned, he’d gotten there with some time to spare, but Greg still found it odd that some teachers, such as James Acaster of maths, weren’t here. If he was remembering correctly, James was right down the hall. It just was blatant disrespect to be late to a meeting when it would have taken a handful of steps to get to said meeting. Although Greg would admit that he could be lazy, he knew that there was just a basic code of respect for departments- and that included showing up.

Ruminating about how some adults seemed to not be able to demonstrate basic respect, Greg took a seat. It seemed as if everyone was at least attempting to sit with their sections, so the choir director took the seat next to Richard. On Greg’s other side was apparently the start of the science department- that was where Richard Herring  had gone, as well as Rhod Gilbert and a few people that Greg didn’t recognise. That didn’t necessarily mean they were new- the extensive science department stretched into Chesham. Greg barely cared to learn all of the names of the Pinewood building instructors- he didn’t have time (or room in his memory) for remembering any of the vocational or Chesham teachers. 

Greg had just gotten to school, so there weren’t that many notifications to check, but he took his phone out regardless. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait until this meeting started, and pretending to check his phone was vastly preferable to attempting small talk. 

It turned out to be a solid 15 minutes before the stragglers filed in. Sure, they worked in a decently sized high school, but Greg thought that more of them could at least *try* to be on time. In the world where everything went as he wanted it, all meetings would, of course, just be an email. But, in the rare case that in-person was required, Greg would make sure, somehow, that everyone was at least trying to be on time. 

At least that annoyance seemed to be shared with Richard, the older man tensing next to him as the minutes dragged on. The band director had never been the best at hiding what he felt, and it was quite clear that he was annoyed at the moment. It was an emotion that Greg shared, of course, but one of them knew how to school their face, and it wasn’t Richard Osman. 

Leaning over, the choir director decided to ask a question. “So, how many other departments do you actually know the teachers in, and not just the heads?”

It wasn’t intended to be condescending- Greg was genuinely curious. There was rarely a need to recognise anyone, and if the kids mentioned another teacher, they almost always described them. The Pinewood music wing was not an apartment complex nor were Greg and Richard roommates, but that seemed to be the general consensus of the students, which meant that Greg got refreshers quite frequently of coworkers that he had forgotten the existence of. The system worked for him, but Richard was rarely like him.

It was a testament to the band director’s boredom that Greg received an answer. Apparently even Richard had to be human sometimes.

“Maybe a dozen if I’m being generous. I doubt Kerry even has the room in her head to remember the fresh crop of English teachers that seem to pop up every year. I’d like to know more, though.” Richard had leaned in to avoid being overheard, but he sat back up, a small smile on his face as he adjusted his glasses. It was one of the things that Greg liked about the other man- he cut directly to the point. 

And then there were the differences. Greg did not need to learn about literally anyone else. He knew who he needed to, and unless one of his contacts was no longer there, he failed to see a need to meet new people. There was a reason that most of his classes had the same people year after year- otherwise he’d have to pretend to care too much. 

Greg was debating returning to his phone. He wasn’t the kind to make close friends with his coworkers and tried to keep work and home separate, but he was seriously debating making a friend for these situations. Richard was enough for occasional chats, but in a setting like this, he’d be professional enough to make Greg sneeze. He was allergic to excessive professionalism, after all. The choir director had reached for his phone, but Andy Devonshire started to speak before Greg could fully take it out of his pocket. At least the meeting was finally starting. 

“I wanted to thank Richard for giving me the idea for this meeting,” the principal started as Greg’s lips quirked up at the confirmation of his earlier suspicion. “I know that most of you want some time to prep before the students invade, so how about we just go around and introduce yourselves briefly, and we can get out of here?”

Greg wasn’t sure if Andy was just a normal man or if he had an agenda, but either way, Greg agreed with the plan. He was here, and all he’d have to contribute was his name. The perfect staff meeting.

Charlotte Richie stood as Andy sat down, addressing the room. “I’m aware that most of the new people are in my department,” she started, having the decency to look sheepish. “I should probably start then- I’m Charlotte Richie, Char if you want, and I teach Honours Biology. Roisin?”

Thankfully, the aforementioned ‘Roisin’ didn’t make Charlotte’s standing a thing. “Roisin Conaty. Chemistry, and a section of biology.”

These names weren’t new. Sure, Charlotte had probably wanted to sit with her friend, but Greg couldn’t help but wonder if she knew that the rest of them were getting more likely to zone out by the second. The first new name was more than five people later, and Greg would have completely zoned out if he hadn’t recognised a new voice. He turned his head, identifying a tall man with greying hair as the person talking. 

“Alex Horne, I’m new this year- moved up from Sussex.” Careful Alex, or Greg might zone out again. Get to the point. “Anatomy and Option 1 Bio.”

Greg’s shoulders relaxed as it seemed that Alex had heeded his unspoken request. Logically, Alex probably didn’t want to be there either, but Greg was going to think the best of this science teacher. 

Alex was the first and only introduction that Greg was even pretending to pay attention to, so Rhod’s gruff voice beside him was the only cue for him that he was going next. 

“Greg Davies. Choir and music theory.”

Chapter Text

Greg shouldn’t have cared about what anyone thought of him, much less a new science teacher. He knew that mentally, but it seemed that his body didn’t, as Greg’s eyes cut directly to Alex, looking for any reaction. It didn’t matter that the choir director had only said his name and job title and that Alex had almost nothing to work with- Greg wanted a little spark of interest or a nod or something. It shouldn’t be that hard to get a flicker of *something*!

When his eyes finally managed to break through the pining and actually transmit what they saw, Greg was rewarded. Not only was Alex looking at Greg, but the other man's eyes were alight, a soft smile gracing his lips. The choir director noticed that the other teacher had a cute gap between his front teeth. Wait. A cute gap? A gap between teeth wasn't cute, or at least had never been to Greg before. Greg highly doubted that Alex had purposefully brushed his teeth in a way that highlighted the pearly incisors and the blush-pink membrane that shone through the gap. Damn. Greg really needed to stop waxing poetic about a new teacher's mouth.

Okay. No mouth. Don't think about Alex holding a long note with his lips slightly open, cutting off the last consonant with a controlled flick of his tongue. Don't think about those lips in a different situation, maybe blowing a gentle stream of wind across Greg's stubble as Alex whispered something in his ear. That would be a perfect thing to not be on his mind.

Greg blinked, trying to keep that image that he definitely didn’t have at the front of his mind. He was completely paying attention to Jack Dee’s (history), Susan Wokoma’s (drama), and Mel Giedroyc’s (english) introductions. Honestly, Greg would be perfectly fine if there were just endless introductions, leaving him to not think about Alex Horne some more.

These faculty meetings always dragged, and it was always made worse by Devonshire’s routine of singing the school song before they were let go. Greg had grown to hate that routine.

It wasn’t that he hated singing. Given his job, that would kind of be a problem. What Greg DID hate was how abysmally bad the faculty were at singing.

Some of it was clearly bad on purpose. Greg had known Rhod for years, and had even sang with him before. While “Lighthouses and Duvets” was unlikely to make either of them rich, Greg did know that the chemistry teacher wasn’t as tone-deaf as he pretended. Jack Dee was the same- could sing, but couldn’t care less about trying in this setting. If Greg hadn’t literally taught choir, Jack’s route would be the one Greg took as well. Unfortunately, he did teach choir. It wasn’t fair that the faculty got to judge his subject when there was never a community science project or a group public speech.

Jack and Rhod were clearly at one end of a spectrum, though. As expected due to their positions, Ed and Richard could at the very least stick to their correct voice parts.

Normally, Greg wouldn’t spend so much time thinking about a routine he hated, but it kept him from thinking of Alex. It was easier to ignore the anatomy teacher’s nod as Sue Perkins introduced herself or his little laugh as Noel Fielding had to be repeatedly prodded by Adefope in order to realise that he needed to say something. Pissing himself off made sure that Greg didn’t let any of that come to mind, thankfully.

Maybe Alex would be as shit as Rhod pretended to be. Maybe he sounded like a dying camel when he started to sing. Maybe everything that Greg had found attractive (yes, it was attraction) would evaporate at the end of this meeting, and the choir director would be able to go back to the life that he’d never had a problem with, until today. Perhaps it’d become something to laugh about with Rhod or Ed, and Greg would never have to think about Alex Horne with his stupidly white teeth and the dumb gap in the middle and the annoyingly bright sparkle of Alex’s eyes as he chuckled at one of Mortimer’s dumb jokes. If Alex was shit at the thing that Greg devoted his time to, this would be over with.

“Alright, it’s very nice to meet everyone,” Andy said, drawing all attention to the front. “I’m sure you’re all anxious to get back to your rooms, so let’s separate into voice parts for the school song, and then you’ll be loose.”

No, Greg still had no idea why the faculty had to be in voice parts for a song that most of them were shit at. He’d wondered about it for a while, but never had (and still didn’t) care enough to take the time to ask.

Unfolding from his chair, Greg made his way over to the space that he’d nicknamed ‘The Wow Monster’ long ago. It had gotten its name early on in his tenure here, mostly due to the rest of his section being shit- excluding himself, of course.

Settled, Greg looked for Alex, eyes scanning the room a few times until he located that familiar hair. It appeared that Rhod had loped over to the other science teacher, and was now leading Alex to where Bob, Andy, Ed, Acaster, and John were standing. This school always had an abundance of tenors; Greg thought it was due to nobody asking if that was where they would actually fit. James would follow Ed wherever he went, after all. Ed knew he was a tenor, but Greg could confidently say that Acaster hadn’t a clue.

It was unlikely that Alex was actually a tenor- Rhod had probably just herded the newbie to the nearest grouping. Hopefully Greg was right and Alex wouldn’t have the skills, or at least he would have a couple of voice cracks trying to hit the high notes.

Finally tearing his eyes away from Alex (who was shaking John’s hand as Rhod watched) Greg turned, welcoming Noel to the monster. The ethereal english teacher was a bass, a surprisingly good one. The choir director didn’t know Fielding that well, but wouldn’t be surprised if Noel regularly played up the surprise factor.

Noel and Greg were joined by Ayoade as Kerry and Mel found their way to the alto section. Richard had sat next to Greg- there was no reason for him to have taken as long as he had to get over to the corner.

Greg raised an eyebrow at Richard, questioning. Richard seemed to be on the same wavelength for once and nodded, gesturing to Greg to lean in.

“I asked to direct this year,” Richard reported. “I still don’t know why it’s David Baddiel conducting. He doesn’t even teach music.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure that David doesn’t know why he has the job either,” Greg pointed out. “You come up with one school cheer, and you’re suddenly more qualified than those of us with degrees in music, I suppose.

Richard turned away, most likely trying to hide a smile. They both knew Greg was right.

As David tried to get everyone’s attention, Greg found Alex again. He was holding sheet music now, looking intently as Ed leaned over his shoulder. This was not a good sign for the hope that Greg was going to be fine, not at all. There was sheet music for the song, of course, and new teachers were encouraged to use it, but Greg hadn’t seen it in use since Ed joined the department. Alex might actually know what he was doing. Greg was close to walking over there, just to offer his services as the choir director of course, when David finally called everyone to order, counting them in.

“Patatas is so wise,” the altos sang, horribly off key.

“And very tall,” the sopranos added, Charlotte’s operatic tones bouncing off the walls and giving Greg a headache.

“Linda is fine,” Greg sang, providing a strong base.

“Not quite as tall,” the tenors continued, Greg narrowing his eyes. He could hear Rhod’s wailing as usual, but… was it?

It was.

“Will there be eggs?” Alex’s voice was clear, confident, and on key. It was Greg’s worst nightmare and his best dream at the same time.

“I like class with eggs,” Julian, Mat, and Nish contributed. Greg would never understand why the home economics teachers got a solo when the musicians didn’t, but somehow it didn’t bother him as much this year as it had in the past.

“This is the song that plays at the start,” Greg sang, keeping his eyes on Alex. It wasn’t as if watching David would do anything, and he was far more interested in the tenor’s progress. The tempo change for the last run was a hard one, and it had tripped Greg up the first time he’d seen the music. Would Alex fall at the same hurdle?

“Good luck to all the people taking part in class today,” the teachers sang, Rhod wailing louder than usual, causing James to take a step away from the other tenor.

Alex had done it perfectly, of course. Greg gathered his jacket quickly and pushed out of the room. He knew he needed to find the other man, and quickly. It took a few steps to thin the crowd, but soon the anatomy teacher was in sight.

“You’re a good singer,” Greg said, falling in step with Alex in a way that he hoped looked natural. “I didn’t expect you to know your voice part, if I’m being honest.”

Alex turned, gracing Greg with that toothy smile that made Greg never want to look away again. “I’m a tenor, always have been, actually. I was impressed by your vibrato, though. You’re the choir teacher, right?”

Greg nodded, unable to make words for the moment.

“W- where are you located,” Greg asked, trying to think of anything to say.

“Pinewood, in the science caravan,” Alex replied easily. “Charlotte said you’re in Pinewood too, in the biodome?”
Greg felt a large, dopey grin coming on, and he took a breath, trying to hold it back.

“Yeah. You asked Charlotte about me?”

“I’d have asked anyone who answered,” Alex revealed, speaking fast as if he was unable to stop. “If I’m being honest, I couldn’t look away from you.”

Greg froze, and Alex’s expression grew worried, his brows coming together. “I’m sorry,” the science teacher apologised. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…?”

Greg didn’t let Alex finish the sentence, the taller man’s lips meeting Alex’s. He didn’t want to breathe, but when he did, Greg looked into Alex’s sparkling eyes and knew that he had done something right.

“I know it’s your first day and I have a wife and you probably do too, but do you want to work something out,” Greg offered, hopeful.

“I don’t know,” Alez said, clearly excited but worried about something. “Are you sure it’s not too unprofessional?”

Greg laughed. “Don’t ask me, Little Alex Horne,” he replied. “I wouldn’t know. I’m allergic to professionalism.”

Alex smiled, looking at Greg like he had found his home. “I think I may very well be allergic too.”