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“Why are we here again?” Laurence shouts.
“Because it’s fun!” Jane shouts back, swinging him around the dancefloor. He seets Harcourt, Berkeley, Sutton, Chenery, and Warren engages in a drinking contest is a dimly lit corner of the nightclub as they swirl together, and Granby and Little have already whirled past them more than once, the former laughing and enthusiastic even with his two left feet, the latter looking dizzy enough fall over.
The song in the air changed and Jane whoops, letting go of him to throw her hands up and shout. The throng of the crowd coupled with the flashing lights makes it impossible to find her again once he’s been pushed away, but he makes a valiant attempt to make headway towards the vague general direction he last saw her in.
Until, of course, disaster inevitably strikes.
According to his friends, Laurence is, apparently, a disaster magnet. Trouble in all forms is naturally attracted to him, and, by proxy, those around him. To combat this, he has a weapons permit and the two firearms and Chinese-style sword it covers, as well as a hunting license. He also carries around various items with him - a utility tool, a first aid kit, a pack of tissues, and no less than three hair ties at all times, to name a few - at any point in time. However short his time as a Navyman (now honourably discharged) was, it certainly beat the sense into him. Besides, if teaching young children has taught him anything, it’s that whatever can go wrong will, and at the worst possible time.
He and a stranger accidentally bump into each other, thereby colliding with someone else. There’s swearing as their drink spills. The stranger’s shirt takes the brunt of it, and Laurence immediately presses his tissues into the stranger’s hand. “Apologies,” He murmurs, momentarily forgetting that he’s near inaudible with the pumping bassline overhead.
Either fortunately or unfortunately the stranger’s ear happens to be close to his mouth, or perhaps it’s the reverse. Laurence is about to politely leave to search for Jane again when the stranger catches his wrist.
The next thing he knows there are lips on his, slightly chapped and rough, and a hand on his shoulder holding him in place. Laurence stiffens and his mouth falls open in surprise, which the stranger takes as an opportunity to introduce tongue. Involuntarily a strangled streak escapes, and the stranger pulls away with a smirk. Laurence is left with lips more than a little spit-slick and dazed, the ghost-presence of the stranger in front of him and the taste of alcohol in his mouth.
He’s still Jane-less.
“Seriously, Will, couldn’t you have had your sexuality crisis anywhere else?” Granby groans.
“If I am inconveniencing you-”
“Of bloody course you’re not!” Granby blows out an explosive breath. “All right, tell it to me.”
Laurence lifts his head from his hands. “So I was with Jane-” Granby makes an impatient gesture with his hand, so he skips ahead. “...ah, I got kissed-”
Granby interrupts with a nod. “Makes sense, carry on.”
Laurence looks at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Pray tell, John, what part of that makes sense ?”
Granby blinks. “Well, one, you’re too proper to initiate anything-” He doesn’t quite know what to make of that, “-and, two, Will, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re built like a brickhouse and hot as hell.”
Laurence stares at him, scandalized, sure his face is aflame. “J-John!”
“What?” Granby shrugs. “It’s true. Now continue with your story.”
Laurence swallows, feeling rather cursed now. “Well, um, and then there was tongue-”
Granby holds up a hand. “Wait. Are you having a gay panic over a kiss ?” He says incredulously. Laurence hesitates.
“...yes?” He ventures. Granby drags his hand down his face with a groan.
“Ah, hello.”
Laurence looks up at the unfamiliar voice and - through no fault of his own - chokes.
“Do we know you?” Granby says icily.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” The Stranger - Laurence, quite hysterically, thinks that the capital S, even in his mind, is well-deserved - says mildly. “But I’m quite certain I’m the reason your friend here is in the state he’s in.’’
A beat. “ You’re the one who kissed him?!” Granby demands.
“John,” Laurence says feebly. He goes ignored.
“Yes,” The Stranger says. He leans over Laurence, peering at him. “Perhaps if I kiss him again he’ll snap out of it.”
Granby throws his hands into the air. “I certainly haven’t heard a better idea today!” He says. “But no funny business.”
Laurence opens his mouth - to say what, he doesn’t know - and the Stranger bends over and places a small, chaste kiss at the corner of his lips. He freezes.
The Stranger draws back with the same smirk as last night’s, and, with an “Until next time,” breezes off.
After a moment Granby says thoughtfully, “Y’know, maybe I should run and get the fellow’s cell number for you. He seems like exactly your type.”
Laurence has never been so glad to have a bench beneath him.
“Laurence,” Harcourt says, popping her head into his classroom. Out of their wing’s ‘student teachers’ her Lily is among the more responsible, despite belonging to the younger half of their assistants. “Your guest is here.”
“Thank you,” He says, and she nods and ducks back out. He turns to his kids. “Everyone, please remember your manners. Temeraire-”
“Yes yes, you say the same thing every time,” Temeraire says. He waves him towards the door.
Laurence opens the door. “Apologies for making you wai-”
The Stranger raises an eyebrow. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Laurence is left fumbling at the cool and calm tone. “I- I work here,” He says desperately.
“I gathered as much,” The Stranger says dryly. “Now, may I enter your classroom?”
Laurence steps mutely aside. When his students gasp as one and Temeraire’s jaw drops, awestruck, he finally registers the falconry glove and the great glowering eagle on his arm.
Helplessly, Laurence thinks that this wasn’t what he had expected at all when he’d requested a naturalist to come and speak to his kids.
“You all may call me Tharkay,” The Stranger says graciously. His kids and Temeraire look like they’re hanging onto every word. He despairs at the thought that Temeraire probably won’t stop bragging about this for weeks. “Any questions you have to begin?”
Immediately they’re launching volleys of inquiries at the- at Tharkay. Laurence is suddenly despairing for a whole other reason. “Hands,” He says, and the manners that previously fled return in the form of slowly raised hands. Tharkay shoots him an amused look.
“Yes, what’s your name?” He says.
“Emily Roland,” She says impatiently, “Is that really an eagle ?”
“Quite so,” Tharkay says. He holds the eagle up. “This is a golden eagle.”
“Can we hold it?” Demane demands. He’s eying the eagle with both greed and suspicion.
“I’m afraid not,” Tharkay replies unrepentantly. There’s a few relieved sighs and a groan from Roland. Laurence sees his lips twitch.
“This is amazing,” Temeraire breathes, eyes sparkling. “Laurence, we have to get him back again. No one’s ever brought an eagle before.”
Laurence looks somewhat dubiously at his kids: each and every one is looking at Tharkay like he can walk across water. “I will try,” He says.
For the next hour Tharkay is lobbed with questions, and Laurence barely manages to follow his answers as well as his subtle reminders about conservation.
When Laurence ducks out for a moment Chenery immediately sticks his head in from the yard. “Soooooo,” He says, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows, “John told Augustine who told me that you have yourself a special friend now.”
At once Laurence steps out, keeping the door open only by a small fraction with his foot. “ Chenery !” He hisses.
Chenery cheerfully ignores him. “ And I heard from Harcourt that some attractive bloke who sounds exactly like the fellow Granby described is now in your room, teaching your kids .”
Laurence internally curses the loose gossiping tongues of his co-workers. He’s saved from having to answer by the appearance of Dulcia, Chenery’s assistant. “Chenery,” She says, managing to be disappointed and scolding in one word. He smiles sheepishly at her, mock-shakes a finger at Laurence, then vanishes back into the yard with his second. Laurence sighs before returning to his own classroom.
Temeraire stares at him searchingly for a moment before going back to listening attentively to Tharkay. Laurence glances at the clock and realizes that Tharkay’s time is drawing to a close.
Tharkay, however, seems to be perfectly aware of this, and is expertly winding his kids down. “Last question,” He says, and instantly every hand flies up. Laurence isn’t surprised to see Temeraire’s join them.
“Perhaps the educator has something to ask?” Tharkay suggests dryly. Laurence starts, and all eyes swivel over to him.
“...ah,” He says awkwardly. “Well, Mr. Tharkay, if you’d be amenable to it, perhaps you could pay a call again sometime? I’m sure everyone would enjoy it,” He adds.
Tharkay - inexplicably yet flawlessly, despite the eagle on his arm - bows with a slightly sarcastic air. “It would be my pleasure,” He drawls. A cheer goes up at his words.
Finally, once Tharkay has been extracted from his classroom, Laurence offers him his hand. “Thank you for coming,” He says sincerely. “I believe you have rathered endeared yourself to my students, Mr. Tharkay.”
Tharkay inclines his head with a cryptic smile on his face, and to Laurence’s shock he brings the back of his hand to his lips.
“Please,” He says amusedly, in an almost deceptively low tone, “I have had my tongue in your mouth - propriety, at this point, I believe, is not required.”
Laurence thinks his face is burning, and Tharkay smirks at him once more before strolling off, His eagle gives Laurence one last piercing stare before they turn the hall corner. He makes an about-face and finds every eye in the classroom fixed on him.
There’s a pause.
Temeraire finally breaks the increasingly awkward silence by exclaiming unhappily, “You never told us you were dating !”
Laurence strikes milk off his list. Next, coffee.
He’s just grabbing his usual package off the shelf when someone taps his shoulder. He whirls around.
“You won’t believe who I just saw,” Granby says.
“Should I ask?” Laurence says wryly.
“You absolutely should,” Granby says gravely. He creeps down the aisle - absolutely conspicuous about it to boot - and Laurence, rolling his eyes, follows him a bit more normally.
Warren, also seemingly doing the weekly food shopping, raises an eyebrow. Laurence shrugs, and he shrugs back before turning away.
Granby points at the bakery section of the grocer’s, and when Laurence looks he finds Tharkay sedately buying his bread. “See?”
Laurence draws him back. “Just because he kissed me-”
“Twice, thrice if you count that charming kiss on the hand,” Granby interjects.
“-does not mean that I want to watch him buy bread .”
Granby stares at him, unperturbed. “So? We need to find out if he’s a good boyfriend candidate.”
Laurence studiously pretends he didn’t hear that last bit. “ ‘We’?” He echoes. “Don’t say you mean to include me in this, John.”
Granby hums distractedly. “Chenery’s here too, two aisles forward.”
Laurence cranes around his friend and catches sight of Chenery sneaking alongside boxes of pasta and pinches his nose. “John, where’s Little?”
“Augustine’s in the car.”
“And does he- does he know that you’re here in the supermarket, playing matchmaker to your co-worker along with your other co-worker?”
Granby turns just so he can see him roll his eyes. “ ‘Course he does, Will.” He turns back to observing Tharkay.
Laurence has never before had to work so hard to tamp down a frustrated scream. “I have no need for meddling in my personal affairs, John,” He protests. Granby looks at him, unimpressed.
“Will. I happen to know you haven’t dated anyone since Jane. And that was high school. As your best friend, I have to draw the line somewhere .”
Laurence glares at him and opens his mouth, a politely scathing comeback on his tongue, when Tharkay says, “Am I interrupting a row?”
They both jump, and Granby whirls around. Tharkay stands in the mouth of the aisle, looking thoroughly entertained. He’s holding a basket, two loaves of bread tucked inside, along with eggs, butter, and flour. Laurence suddenly wonders if he bakes.
“We are not rowing,” He says firmly. Tharkay raises an eyebrow.
“If you say so,” He says congenially. In the background, Warren is looking curiously down at Chenery, who is crouched on the ground in front of him.
Granby scrambles up. “We’re trying to figure out if you’re good dating material,” He says shamelessly.
“ John !” Laurence sputters.
“So this is a row,” Tharkay observes.
“It most certainly is not ,” Laurence says stiffly. “Now, if you excuse me gentlemen, I’ll be taking my leave.”
He turns away. Behind him Granby mutters, “Oh, so now it’s gentlemen again”. Before he can get more than a few steps away Tharkay catches his wrist and swings him. More startled than anything else, Laurence lets his body follow the motion.
Tharkay’s lips come into contact with his cheek - Laurence can feel him smiling - and he draws away. His usual smirk is softened. “Not without that you aren’t.”
When Laurence finally wins the struggle of opening his eyes, he is greeted by a white ceiling and too-bright lights. The air smells sterile and like antiseptic, and his mouth is drier than sand.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Harcourt’s voice says. Laurence blinks as she appears in his field of vision and helps him sit up.
He opens his mouth, and Berkley is there, holding out a cup of water with a straw. “You’re damn lucky,” He says gruffly as Laurence sips at it, “Tem’s going to be hysteric when he hears.”
“Honestly,” Harcourt sighs, “You’re alone for two hours and then we learn that you threw yourself in front of a car - again , may I add - to save a little girl. Who is fine, by the way,” She adds.
Laurence nods. He’s already taken stock of the damage: a broken ankle, a sprained wrist, and a head injury. “Thank you,” He says hoarsely.
They exchange a look. “We didn’t find you,” Berkley says.
“Then who did?” He asks, baffled.
“I did.” Laurence startles and looks up. Tharkay is leaning in the doorway, looking weary. He strides in and drops into the chair beside the bed. Quietly Harcourt and Berkley file out.
They sit in silence until Tharkay breaks it by saying, “William Laurence. Did you know, I hadn’t known your name until I had to look in your wallet while I was on the phone with the 999 operator.”
“I’m sorry,” Laurence says, but Tharkay shakes his head.
“No, please don’t blame yourself. I’ve never been good with names.”
“Nevertheless,” Laurence says, “Thank you.”
Tharkay nods, stilted, before muttering, “Oh, stuff.” Abruptly he stands up, cups the back of his neck, and presses his lips to Laurence’s forehead.
“Please don’t go and worry anyone,” He whispers.
“Please, I can handle myself,” Laurence protests. Warren shrugs.
“Too bad,” Sutton says unrepentantly. “Apparently you’re too damn accident-prone to be left on your own.”
“Besides,” Warren points out, “You can barely get anywhere, much less carry anything.”
Laurence grudgingly concedes to his point and lets them help him. He’s confused when they bypass his door without a second thought.
“Nope,” Warren says, catching his questioning glance. Sutton continues forward and slips out the door to the yard. Laurence looks at him skeptically, but Warren just smiles and holds the door open for him.
Laurence’s jaw drops. A handmade Get Well banner hangs from two poles, and his entire class stands below it, along with Harcourt, Berkeley, Granby, Little, Chenery, Sutton, and their respective classes. Temeraire, waiting awkwardly next to Lily, Maximus, and Iskierka, rushes over at once once he sees him. “Laurence!” He cries, skidding to a stop just before collision. “I thought you said you weren’t going to injure yourself again!”
Laurence pats his head with his good hand apologetically. “I will endeavor to do so in the future, Temeraire.”
Temeraire sniffs and maneuvers in to hug his side. “Just don’t be too Laurence,” He mumbles.
A tap comes onto his shoulder, and Laurence turns as best as he can. Tharkay stands behind him, shifting. “They said I should give these to you,” He says quietly, offering a bouquet of peonies.
“Perhaps you may hold them for now,” Laurence suggests wryly. Tharkay nods and picks a dark red bloom out of the bundle and efficiently snaps off most of the long stem before tucking it behind his ear.
“Just for now,” He mumbles.
Eventually the party breaks up, and Laurence learns that the deal for the kids was that, in exchange the party, they’d forgo their break. As they herd their kids inside Laurence sees Little looking thoughtfully at him, and they exchange smiles.
“Mr. Tharkay,” Laurence says after his kids have filed into the hallway with Temeraire, “May I have a moment of your time?”
“Certainly,” Tharkay says, sounding surprised. He’s still holding the peonies.
Laurence takes a deep breath. “I would like to thank you,” He begins, “You’ve educated my students and saved my life. I owe you a great debt.”
Tharkay opens his mouth, and Laurence holds up his hand. “I would also be in your debt,” He says softly, “If you would be so kind as to accompany me to dinner tonight.”
Tharkay stares at him, and under his focus Laurence backpedals. “That is, only if you want to, of course…”
Unexplainably, Tharkay laughs, bemusing him. “I have been with you in a panic and a car accident,” He says, smiling, “I’m sure I can handle a date.”
Laurence finds himself smiling in return, and carefully places his good hand on Tharkay’s shoulder. He’s a little hesitant, but the kiss is soft and sweet. Tharkay’s free hand rises to his waist, and his lips are still as chapped and rough as they had been under multicoloured disco lights.
Still smiling as they part, foreheads touching, Laurence says, “You can call me Will.”
“Likewise,” Tharkay murmurs, “Tenzing.”
“Tenzing,” Laurence tries, and Thar- Tenzing pecks his nose.
“William Laurence, you better be hightailing it to my office right now.” Over the loudspeaker, Jane pauses. “Oh, and bring your boyfriend too. I need to vet him.”
From inside the building Temeraire screeches. “I thought you said you weren’t dating!”
Tenzing smiles in amusement. “Oh my,” He says.