Chapter Text
Steve tried his hardest not to shift around on his chair. Sure, he was nervous about this new job – or rather, his first real job as a teacher – but that didn’t mean everyone needed to know. Especially not assistant principal Hill who was more than a little intimidating. It was bad enough that Steve had barely gotten any sleep and called Tony on the way to school for a pep talk which in fact had been more reassuring than he’d expected. His friend was right, he had the job, his references were great and he was excited to be working with children and making a difference. It also helped that Ms Hill had told him she had been very impressed by his portfolio when he’d first met her at his job interview. The school was nice enough, had undergone renovation only a few years back and the range of art classes and projects being offered was bigger than at any school he’d worked at during his teacher training. It could barely get any better, right?
The office that hadn’t changed since last time he’d been here a few months ago was a good representation of the rest of the four storey building. It was modern, all soft, light colours and sharp edges, but a little empty for Steve’s taste; practical and somewhat impersonal. And the chair he tried not to shift on too much was uncomfortable enough for Steve to hope this meeting would be over soon, he was positive sitting here much longer would leave him with back pains for the rest of the day.
Therefor he was relieved when Ms Hill plucked a sheet of paper from the printer and handed it to Steve with a smile. “Now Mr Rogers, the art room is on the second floor, room 311, but your students won’t get there before lunchtime. Most of your art classes start tomorrow and on Wednesday, then you’ll be busy. Same goes for history, you’re going to have another room for those classes; it’s right down the hall from the art room. Your first class for today is at one so you have enough time to set everything up and take a look around if you wish. During lunch break I’ll introduce you to the other teachers and if you have any questions just stop by my office and ask away.”
After a brief look at the class schedule Steve thanked her with a shy smile, gathered his things and left the office, quietly closing the door behind him to let her get back to whatever business she had to attend to. The bell rang as he passed the main entrance and Steve took a quick step backwards as a small group of students dashed past him to make it to their first class of the year. Steve looked after them and smiled again. He couldn’t wait to start teaching.
With his portfolio tucked under one arm and a tote bag with some of his art supplies slung over his other shoulder he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. There he turned right and slowly walked down the hall, glad nobody could hear his wheezing breath and hoping that taking those two flights of stairs would get a little easier with time. As he was reading the room numbers and looking at the posters and paintings by students that adorned the space between each door he could hear soft voices from most classrooms and here and there a burst of laughter or muffled groans of protest at the announcement of certain teachers the students would have this year.
Engrossed in a poster about last year’s science fair, Steve barely noticed a door a few yards down the hallway opening. He took a step back and turned to head to the end of the hallway when –
“Umpf!”
Steve’s bag slipped off his shoulder at the impact and several brushes, markers, a pair of scissors and three tape rolls scattered over the floor as Steve stumbled back. In the last moment a warm hand closed around his wrist and prevented him from falling flat on his ass as Steve flailed helplessly with his other arm, losing his portfolio in the process, before finally regaining his balance.
“Shi- I mean, I’m so sorry!“ Steve apologised and hectically kneeled down to pick up the mess. Luckily his portfolio seemed to have survived the fall undamaged, as did his supplies. “I was just looking for the art room, didn’t pay much attention and really didn’t hear you.” Damn his left ear for being that bad. Maybe he should consider wearing his hearing aids after all.
“It’s fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going, either,” a male voice assured him. “Are you okay?” The man crouched down next to Steve and handed him his glasses that thankfully weren’t broken. He helped him gather the brushes that were strewn all over the floor and reached underneath the heaters on the wall to grab a marker that had gone astray.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you so much,” Steve added when the stranger handed him the utensils. Having made sure he hadn’t missed anything, Steve readjusted his glasses and finally looked up at the man – and immediately wished he hadn’t.
The stranger was gorgeous, long, dark hair falling into his grey-blue eyes, stubble that practically begged Steve’s fingertips to ghost over it and Steve instantly felt his face flush a dark red at the thought. He really wasn’t used to talking to people who were this attractive (or rather, attractive people talking to him), especially not at his work place, and he wished himself far, far away. His mind had literally just started fantasising about the guy mere moments after running into him. Not the best first impression to make, mind you. And he might very well be a new co-worker.
“You’re new, I take it?”
Steve nodded, sure his voice would fail him if he so much as attempted to speak and suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
“Well, you’re headed in the right direction,” the brunet smiled and it took Steve a moment to realise he was talking about the art room. “Just turn left at the end of the hallway, then it’s the second door on the right. You should hurry, class has already started. Didn’t Ms Hill come along to show you the way and introduce you to your new classmates?” Handsome Stranger looked somewhat puzzled at that thought.
His new…? Steve wasn’t quite following and shook his head in confusion. “No, um, she has another appointment and just told me where I have to go.” At least his voice didn’t betray how embarrassed he felt – unfortunately the same thing couldn’t be said for his still bright red face.
“Well then, better hurry up. Although I’m sure if you’d carry fewer supplies for only that one class around you might get there faster next time,” Handsome Stranger smiled. “I doubt you’ll need all of those today – or in any art class, really, not even the advanced one. I think your art teacher will hand out a list of what you’re going to need this year.”
Finally, it clicked. His classmates. His art teacher. Steve clenched his hands around his supplies and tried to keep his composure. It wasn’t the stranger’s fault he’d just mistaken him for a student. Steve was small and thin and looked several years younger than he actually was, even with the edges of his tattoos peeking out from under his collar and his rolled up sleeves. It happened fairly often but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing and degrading. Especially when he was being mistaken by someone only a few years older than him (and this gorgeous, oh god, how much his fingers itched to draw this jawline, those soft, full lips and beautiful eyes). He mustered up a polite smile. “Actually, I’m the art teacher. This is my first day and I haven’t quite figured everything out yet. So thanks for your help, I’m sure I’ll fine the room.”
To his satisfaction, it was the stranger’s turn to blush and stammer, “Oh, I, um… I’m sorry, it’s just… I’ve never seen you here before and I thought…”
“Don’t worry about it. And thanks again.” Steve gave a curt nod and stepped around the guy to head to his classroom, passing an open door with curious students looking at him from inside the room and a few giggles following him. Great, now he was even more anxious than he’d been five minutes ago. Would his students even take him seriously? What if they didn’t? What if they decided he wasn’t enough of an authority figure and made his life hell?
No, that was not going to happen. Not again. Steve had wanted to become a teacher because he liked imparting art and history in a manner that made others look at those subjects differently and to be there for the students that couldn’t defend themselves. He didn’t want what had happened to him during his time in school happen to another kid, with teachers standing by and doing nothing as innocent students had been bullied, and he’d been delighted to find out that this school even had a LGBTQ+ club.
So he was not going to even consider the possibility that the students might be just as cruel to him as the ones in his classes had been in high school, and he was not going to think about that stranger. Steve prayed he was some student’s father, or maybe the janitor or something, but considering that the guy had just come out of a classroom he probably was one of his new colleagues which might just make his lunch break even more awkward than it would undoubtedly be anyway. It was probably best to push any thought about him to the back of his mind.
So far Steve had only met Ms Hill and the scary headmaster, Mr Fury, but none of the other teachers. Ms Hill had assured him the others would welcome him with open arms and spoke highly of the faculty but on the other hand that was part of her job, wasn’t it? She couldn’t exactly go ahead and tell him his new co-workers might be horrible. He just hoped he would be able to get along with the other teachers. Sure, this was his job now and he didn’t have to become best friends with everyone but not making enemies in his first few weeks here would be nice. Sometimes Steve had a hard time keeping his opinions to himself and he really didn’t need to come into conflict with anyone. Tony had told him more than once he was a hundred and fifteen pounds of concentrated sass and righteousness and if Steve was being honest with himself he had to admit that Tony wasn’t exactly wrong.
When he finally found room number 311 he heaved a sigh of relief and unlocked it with the key Ms Hill had handed him at the beginning of their meeting. Stepping inside, Steve took in every detail of the large room with its white desks and huge windows. There was a set of cabinets behind the teacher’s desk, undoubtedly full of supplies, and the back wall was occupied by several shelves for storing projects his students were working on. Setting his supplies on the nearest table, Steve let the excitement bubbling in his stomach take over and chuckled softly. Great lighting, enough space for bigger projects and a small park he and his students could use in summer directly bordering the school grounds. It was perfect. And he could deal with colleagues and students thinking he was far younger than his actual age, it wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced that hundreds of times before. Steve decided he would make his time here count and not to let anything get him down, and with that in mind he started unpacking his things and going through the cabinets to see which supplies the school offered.
Afterwards he would walk around the building to get familiar with everything. He also wanted go look for the other classroom, the one he’d teach history in, and maybe swing by the small darkroom in the basement he intended to use for the photography group he’d suggested to offer – if anyone decided to sign up, that was. At this point, he had almost forgotten about his run-in with the handsome guy whom he would most certainly not draw when he got home and curled up on his sofa with a cup of tea and his sketchbook. Because that would be utterly ridiculous and also just a tiny bit creepy.
***
“Hey, what’s that kid doing in here?”
“What kid?” Bucky turned and looked into the direction Sam was staring. Standing right next to the door, looking a little lost and far too young to be here, was the boy – no, man, Bucky corrected himself mentally – that had bumped into him this morning. He groaned softly and shook his head, still embarrassed about that particular encounter. “Apparently that’s the new art teacher.”
Raising a brow, Sam turned his attention to Bucky, momentarily forgetting his half-eaten sandwich. “You’re joking, right?” he asked with a quick glance back at the new guy.
Bucky shook his head. Unfortunately not, he thought and prayed that the skinny blond would not see him, or at least not come over to sit anywhere near them. He was sure the guy wasn’t that bad, really, but Bucky honest to god was embarrassed.
“Are you sure? How do you even know?” Sam pressed. “Since when do you know more about new teachers and students than I do?”
Of course Sam wouldn’t let that go; Bucky suspected it had something to do with injured pride. In Sam’s opinion he was the first one to get notified of anything remotely interesting regarding new staff or students, claiming it was his duty to know about anything and everything going on in this school since he was not only the PE teacher but also the school counsellor. Bucky was sure it had more to do with Sam being nosy as hell. “Guy bumped into me this morning,” he muttered and picked at his salad. Why the hell had he thought a salad was enough for lunch? “I thought he was a student and told him to go meet his new classmates.”
Sam almost choked on his sandwich. “You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.” Bucky buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on the desk in front of him. It might well have been one of the most awkward encounters of his life – usually he was known for his charm and nonchalance but back there, in the hallway right in front of his classroom, he’d mistaken a new colleague for one of the students and his own class had witnessed the whole thing through the open classroom door. Bucky couldn’t recall ever blushing in front of a class but the colour just hadn’t left his cheeks even when the new art teacher had stomped off, looking more than a little piqued.
Suddenly a hand was ruffling his hair and someone right behind him mocked, “Wow, I knew you were a mess, Barnes, but that’s a first even for you.”
“Shut up, Natasha, he looks like he’s seventeen,” Bucky grumbled and caught her hand before she could make even more of a mess of his hair. It was no surprise that a new staff member was everything the faculty gossiped about, at least for today. In a week or two, give or take, nobody would care that blondie over there was new.
Sam watched as the new teacher looked relieved when Ms Hill walked towards him to show him to an empty seat where he could leave his things and have lunch. “Yeah, man. Since when do we employ teenagers?”
Natasha sank into the chair next to Sam’s and leaned forward to get a good look at the new teacher. “He’s not a teenager, he’s twenty-six. And teaches history as well, not just art.”
“How do you know that?”
Giving him a Cheshire cat grin, Nat winked at Sam and whispered, “I know everything, Wilson.” Bucky didn’t doubt it for a second; she was a remarkable and sometimes scary woman who could dig up information (and dirt…) about anyone.
“Are you talking about the new guy?” Peggy chimed in from Bucky’s other side, making him jump since he had been so focused on glaring at his salad that he hadn’t noticed her at all. “He’s adorable, isn’t he? And I hear he’s absolutely talented.”
“I think he just heard you,” Sam noted with an amused grin and really, when Bucky peeked over to the new guy he was staring right at their little group, hands buried in his pockets and jaw set. “And I don’t think he likes being called adorable.”
Luckily, Maria chose that moment to get everyone’s attention and introduced the new guy. “Everyone, I want you to meet our new history and art teacher, Steve Rogers. He’ll also run a photography project after classes. I expect everyone to help him out if he has any questions.”
There were a few nods, some welcoming comments and smiles sent into Rogers direction. When Rogers’ glance swept over him Bucky automatically hunched down in his chair and immediately felt ridiculous because of it. Bucky watched as Rogers’ cheeks turned a soft shade of pink and he tried to muster up a shy smile for his new colleagues. Bucky certainly hoped the guy was more confident in a classroom, otherwise things might get hard for him. They would just have to wait and see how this turned out.