Chapter Text
William spots him on a Tuesday.
It’s right after lunch, and the air in the classroom still smells like someone snuck in bubble tea. William’s sprawled halfway across his desk, chewing the end of his pen and very much not mentally prepared for double Lit. He’s mid-rant about how no one needs to know the meaning of "symbolism" in real life when the door creaks open and in walks him.
Slim-fit shirt. Rolled sleeves. Messy black hair. And glasses.
Glasses.
“Good afternoon, class,” the stranger says, voice smooth and low. “Your teacher's out sick, so I’ll be with you for the next two weeks. My name’s Est Supha. You can call me Mr. Supha.”
William, who hasn’t sat up straight in three periods, suddenly does.
He watches, transfixed, as Mr. Supha drops a folder on the desk with an efficient sort of elegance. There's a quiet confidence to the way he moves , calm, self-contained, like someone who’s not trying to impress anyone but still does.
His voice dips again, politely asking for someone to distribute the worksheets, and William barely registers that the paper’s being passed down to him.
He leans toward his best friend across the aisle and whispers, deadly serious, “That guy with glasses? That’s my boyfriend.”
Lego snorts. “He’s our teacher.”
William waves him off. "Minor details" followed by “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
He spends the rest of the lesson pretending to take notes but actually writing “W + E = heart” in increasingly tiny letters in the margins of his book.
When Est’s eyes flick up and catch his, just for a second, William swears he sees something there.
Probably just judgment. Maybe mild concern. Possibly fear.
He’s already planning tomorrow’s outfit.
William is in full-blown mission mode.
He shows up the next day ten minutes early which is five minutes before the classroom even gets unlocked wearing a shirt with just enough buttons undone to be "mature" but not enough to get sent to the counselor’s office again.
He’s got his hair fluffed, his best cologne spritzed 'two sprays, not three, he's not that desperate', and his nicest rings on, because “mysterious and slightly edgy” is the vibe.
Lego walks in and immediately regrets his life choices. “You dressed up for him.”
William glances at him like he's an idiot. “You think soulmates happen by accident?”
Lego deadpans, “You got a B- in Bio because you were drawing hearts on your frog dissection report.”
William shrugs. “It was symbolic.”
Exactly then, he walks in.
Mr. Supha looks the same as yesterday, which is to say: unfairly attractive, in a tired grad-student-who-drinks-tea-and-reads-poetry way. The glasses are still there. So is the rolled-sleeve shirt. And the absolute lack of awareness of the chaos he’s caused.
“Good morning,” he says gently, placing his laptop on the desk.
William, with the confidence of a deluded teenager, chirps back, “It is now.”
Est pauses. Blinks. Looks at him like he’s trying to decide if that was flirting or a genuine concern for the morning weather.
William smiles like it’s both.
They go through Shakespeare that day. Esh reads a passage aloud and William zones out halfway through, completely focused on the cadence of his voice. At one point, Est glances around the room and asks, “What do you think the character is feeling in this scene?”
William, without missing a beat: “Desperate. Longing. In love with someone he can’t have.”
Est looks... startled.
Lego buries his head in his arms.
William just leans back, satisfied.
“You’re going to catch a case,” Lego mutters without looking up from his phone. “A whole legal case. Like the courtroom kind.”
William doesn’t respond because he’s too busy adjusting his posture , the one that screams “thoughtful but a little brooding” as Mr. Supha walks by their row with a stack of marked papers.
“I’m not gonna catch a case,” William says, eyes following Est like a lovesick hawk. “I’m gonna catch feelings.”
“You already caught feelings,” Lego deadpans. “You’re about three stages away from writing his last name next to yours on your water bottle.”
William opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of his name being called by him.
“William,” Est says gently, pausing at his desk. He places a paper face down. “Can I talk to you after class for a moment?”
William’s soul leaves his body. Lego visibly winces.
“Y-Yeah,” William says, voice cracking like a boy in a coming-of-age movie. He tries to recover with a smirk. “Unless you’re asking me to stay because you’ve finally realized we’re meant to be.”
Est blinks once. There’s a pause. “No.”
Lego chokes.
The rest of the lesson crawls by like death. William swings between total internal panic and irrational hope.
He didn’t say never, he just said 'No' today .
When the bell finally rings, the classroom empties, but William lingers, clutching his bag and trying to channel his inner Wattpad protagonist.
Est folds his arms. He looks tired. Concerned. Maybe a little… sad.
“William,” he says softly, “I know you think you’re being funny, but this has to stop.”
William blinks. “Wait, what?”
“The jokes. The comments. The... implication that this is anything more than a student-teacher dynamic.”
William’s stomach drops a little. “It’s not a joke,” he says, quieter now. “I like you.”
Est's face softens, but not in the way William hoped. It’s not romantic but it’s pitying.
“You’re a good kid,” Esh says gently. “But I’m not someone you can have a crush on. Okay?”
William nods. He doesn’t mean it.
He walks out of the room straight into Lego’s waiting, judgmental stare.
Lego sighs. “You got humbled, didn’t you?”
William shrugs. “Nah. Just… minor delay in the love story arc.”
Lego groans. “This is why I drink.”
“You don’t drink.”
“This is why I will.”