Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tobias looked at the report in front of him, taking a deep breath. He thought Eloise was getting better, but this report seemed to suggest otherwise. 

“It’s not that she’s a bad pupil, Mr. Bell,” the teacher smiled, setting down another report card in front of him. “She’s incredibly bright. Has some of the best maths and music grades I’ve seen. But, she is just… you know.”

“No? I don’t know?” Tobias set the card down. “What measures are you taking to support her?”

“Excuse me?”

“I expressed my concern at the start of the school year. I thought Eloise was going to get additional support throughout her school year.”

“We have been trying our best, Mr. Bell but, as I said before, we are understaffed.”

“And underfunded, yes. I work in the arts, we’re all underfunded right now.”

“Maybe if Mrs Bell got involved…”

“Mrs Bell is dead,” Tobias scrubbed his face. “So, there will be now Mrs. Bell involved. It’s just me.”

The teacher sighed. “We just thought…”

“You thought if a student had a nuclear family she would be more willing to participate in class? Did that work with her sister?”

“The issue with Florence was over confidence, but Eloise is too quiet.”

“So, what? Florence was a chatter box and Eloise is as quiet as a mouse? And both of those things are an issue?” Tobias lifted his bags. “Come back to me when you have a coherent answer.” 

“Mr Bell. I am trying my best.”

“But apparently, because there isn’t a Mrs. Bell, my best isn’t good enough? Goodbye.”

Tobias grabbed his coat, stepping outside and his eyes landing on his youngest. 

Eloise sat, her plait over her shoulder, as she coloured in aimlessly. He looked at the shoes, which had cost him an inhumane amount of money, which Eloise was now colouring over in permanent marker. 

“Hey, monkey.”

Eloise looked up, grinning wildly at Tobias. Carefully, Tobias scooped up the youngest, setting her on his shoulders. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, Eloise. You’re perfect, it’s this school,” he held her hands, walking out to his car. “I thought they were supporting you.”

“I like Ms. Peters.”

Ms. Peters was the music teacher, Tobias remembered. He had always liked her, actually.

“I don’t like Mr. Merryman.”

“Why?”

“He has this annoying laugh,” Eloise rested her head on Tobias’s. 

Tobias hummed, opening the car door and helping Eloise down and into her seat. “That can be annoying.” 

Growing up, Tobias’s grandpa Alfie had always said ‘their head is away with the fairies.’ 

At the time, Tobias had really gotten no idea what that meant until he met Eloise. Truthfully, Tobias was unsure about whether Eloise was even in the same universe as Florence and him. 

Where Florence was sharp, Eloise was soft. Florence was calculating and alert, Eloise was trying to tame a ladybug. 

“Do you want to see Uncle Jack?” Tobias fastened Eloise’s seatbelt, getting into the driver seat and checking his phone. 

Florence was away for a residential, and Tobias had paperwork to finish. Eloise was perhaps the easiest child to look after, content to just sit in the corner and write stories, but Florence had needed more work. She had needed more support than Tobias had the capacity to give. 

Until Jack stepped in, with Nicholas and his sisters. 

Tobias wouldn’t exactly say they had a picture perfect family, but it was good. 

Or, as good as it could be. 

“Where is Flo?”

“She’s at a residential for the weekend, monkey. But she said she’ll give you a call tonight, ok?”

How had Tobias ended up with not one, but two daughters, and truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure himself. 

He remembered Yulia. He remembered spending countless hours in rehearsals and in clubs and studios with her. 

Tobias had come to even love Yulia but in a purely platonic way. 

But then they ended up with two daughters, and Yulia had ended up dead, leaving Tobias to try and play house. 

Things were going, in Tobias’s humble opinion, disastrously. 

Tobias was perhaps being a little harsh on himself. It wasn’t exactly that things were going badly, but what exactly did one do with two kids who had lost their mom at an unfairly young age? 

Tobias could understand. He had lost his mom too (Tobias hated saying that someone had lost a parent, his mom wasn’t ‘lost.’ He knew exactly where she was, dead.)

“Do you find it hard talking?” He asked, stopping at the red light.

“No,” Eloise replied, looking out the window. “Yes.”

“It can’t be two answers, monkey,” Tobias said gently. 

“It’s like… I worry, when I speak. What if I have nothing important to say?”

“I think everything you say is important.”

“But you have too. Because you’re my dad,” Eloise looked at him. “I don’t think I’m clever.”

“El…”

“I think I’m just average,” she finished, looking at Tobias. “I’m ok with being average. As long as it means I get to dance.” 

Tobias nodded, leaning over to kiss her head gently, before starting the car again when the light changed. Part of Tobias’s chest gave an awkward kick, had he been a bad parent? Had he encouraged Eloise to think like this? And not noticed?

Had he been neglectful as a father?

Tobias shook his head, driving towards Jacks house to drop Eloise off. He still had rehearsals to run, and meetings, and everything else. 

For the longest time, Tobias thought Jack lived in the Fish theatre but it turned out he was wrong and Jack did in fact have a house. 

“I think you’re doing great,” Tobias added quietly, glancing at Eloise. “I think you’re clever, you’re funny, and you have the perfect look of seriousness when you dance.”

Eloise hummed in response, getting out her sharpie and leaning forward. 

“Please don’t draw on the dashboard, monkey,” Tobias sighed, catching his daughter and pulling her away from the dashboard. “It’s expensive.”

“It’s boring without flowers.”

“Know what else is boring without flowers? Uncle Jacks house. Maybe you should draw on his walls when you’re over.”

“Ok!”

Tobias turned his attention back to the road, humming quietly to himself. He had seen the message that Daria had sent, one of the visiting violinists. 

Some course about self-confidence for kids through sports, and when Tobias had said Eloise dances, Daria had shaken their head and explained she needed something more. 

The thought remained stuck in his head, like some sort of a splinter. 

The poster was simple, and gave all the information that Tobias could possibly need. 

‘6 week course on self-confidence - ran by Gabin Roux.’

There was also something about that name, it echoed in the back of Tobias’s memory. He knew this Gabin, but just couldn’t place how. 

Tobias glanced down again at Eloise, before looking at the changing landscape of New York. 

What was there to loose anyway? 

Chapter Text

“Alright, talk me through it, again.”

“I don’t know what’s so difficult to understand? We both wanted to make sure we were gay.”

“Twice? Without protection?” Jack looked at the two young girls, one who looked like Tobias’s double and the other asleep, resting on his chest. “You could’ve just kissed each other.”

“Well. I think we both wanted to be parents. More her. So, here we are.”

“Tobias, you’re a dad. With two kids, and Yulia is dead.”

“Yes, I know,” Tobias scrubbed his face, looking at the youngest, then turning his attention back to Jack. “Will you help me?”

“Sure,” Jack gently passed Eloise back to Tobias, looking at the young Florence. “We’ll figure this out. Jesus. Does that make me a grandfather?”

“You’re literally impossible.” 

Tobias kissed Eloise’s head, looking at Jack then down at his daughters. 

What the fuck had he gotten himself into? 

/\/\

There was a certain passion that came with hook ups. 

Gabin, for the most part, didn’t just randomly hook up with strangers. He liked to give it some thought, to at least buy the guy dinner first. 

But, with Nony-1983, there had been no dinner. No build up. It had been straight to the point, messy and heated and passionate sex. Gabin had prided himself on having stamina but he was wrecked after that night. 

Another important point, was that when a stranger was face down in your bed, you didn’t really have much time for small talk. 

Gabin may have not got a great look at Nony-1983, but Gabin would recognise the hair cut and those hands anywhere. 

Nony-1983 was actually called Tobias Bell, with two daughters, and was a senior choreographer at MBT. 

And Tobias Bell, or Nony-1983, was stood in front of him, with wide eyes and bright red cheeks. 

“Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” Gabin smiled awkwardly, raising his hand to give a half wave. “Are you here for the classes?”

“Yeah. This is Eloise. She’s… shy.”

“Bonjour, Eloise.”

Eloise hid behind Tobias’s leg, and Gabin smiled gently. He came down to the girls eye level, gently holding his hands out. “I’m your teacher, Gabin.”

“Do I not have to call teachers by their last name?”

“Non, not me. I prefer being called Gabin,” he smiled. “I’m so excited for you to join my class. Why don’t you go get warmed up, mm? Run a few laps.”

Eloise nodded, bounding off to join the other girls. 

Gabin stood up, looking at Tobias. “Hello again.”

“Hi.”

“So this is…”

“I didn’t have an affair. Their mom is dead.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that?” Gabin cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear she’s dead?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a question?” Tobias straightened himself out, picking at dust that wasn’t there. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention it to Eloise.”

“Oh, sure? Let me just tell your child about our hookup from Grindr. It just rolls off the tongue.” 

“I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Strangely enough, neither have I?” Gabin watched the kids running circles. 

“Then lets just not tell them.”

Gabin sighed, scooping his hair into a bun and looked at the kids, then back at Tobias. 

He was, in short, gorgeous. 

Gabin remembered that night, the way Tobias had gasped his name, the feeling of pressing himself against the dancer. There had been an ache, Gabin remembered what it was to be a ballet dancer, how he missed it. 

He still danced, mostly teaching at a local ballet school for kids who couldn’t afford their lessons. Doing that filled his heart with warmth. 

Seeing those younger dancers, it reminded him of his childhood. 

There had been whisperings about the famous Tobias Bell; the bizarre choreographer, known for walking out and disrupting performances. Tobias Bell was also known for his continual work and advocacy of LGBTQIA+ rights within the arts, and was very definitively gay, yet here he was with two children. 

Part of Gabin supposed he should have recognised the signs when Tobias booked them a hotel rather than meeting in a home. 

“Are you ashamed?”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed. I just… I don’t think, I don’t know how to come out to them.”

“What age is Florence?”

“Florence is thirteen, and Eloise is seven,” Tobias glanced at his youngest who was skipping, but still by herself rather than with the rest of the children. 

There was a level of awkwardness, that Gabin felt Eloise inherited from her father. 

“They’ve had too much to deal with in the last three years, I don’t want to put them through more problems.”

Gabin tilted his head, humming at Tobias’s words, then gently giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Go, I’ll look after her, I promise.”

Something softened in Tobias’s eyes, and Gabin felt like there was butterflies in his stomach. 

Tobias was truly gorgeous. 

“Alright, let’s get started!”

/\/\

There was a level of unhingedness that Tobias had never encountered before, until he met school moms. 

He stood at the gates, waiting for Florence as he always did, when the first mother approached him. Her lips looked like she had an allergic reaction to fish or nuts, and her hair looked so damaged from the bleaching, he felt as though he could fry an egg on it. 

“Well, if it isn’t Tobias Bell! You know my daughter, Stephanie, she’s the most beautiful dancer you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I work with Cheyenne Toussaint on a regular basis, I can assure you, I’m not missing anything.”

The mom laughed, and Tobias had heard cats being murdered sound more in tune. 

“You are just a hoot!” She put a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. My little girl has a dream to be a ballerina and I’m asking you to give her a lesson.”

“Sign her up for lessons at MBT. When she qualifies for soloist or principal dancer, I’ll give her a class.”

“My daughter is twelve.”

“Age shouldn’t be a hurdle if you have talent,” He looked at the mom, seeing the anger in her eyes before stepping away and straight into another one.

“Aren’t you the famous Tobias Bell?”

“Apparently so.”

“I saw your performance in Swan Lake, truly breathtaking. I would love to bring my sister to the ballet, if you ever have a spare ticket.”

“I don’t. Why would I give out free tickets if ticket sales is what pays my wage?” He looked at the new mom, who had less big lips, but instead had the most woeful eyebrows. “That’s stupid. This whole thing is stupid. I am here to pick up my daughter and would appreciate it if everyone could leave me alone.”

Tobias stepped away, almost trampling Florence.

Florence had recently discovered My Chemical Romance, much to Tobias’s delight. She was learning how to do dramatic eyeliner, wearing beanies, and every time Tobias tried to have a conversation with her it often ended in a door being slammed. 

“Oh.”

“I hate this place,” Florence threw her bag at Tobias before going over to the car, taking the front seat and pulling her knees to her chest.

“I’m sorry?” Tobias set the bag in the back seat, clearing his throat before turning the volume down as the opening chords to Helena hit him. 

“All those moms were like… like fucking vultures.”

“Language.”

“Fucking idiots.”

“Language! Florence, stop swearing, it’s unbecoming.”

“Cheyenne swears.”

“Cheyenne was raised by a pack of feral cats in Paris,” Tobias looked at his eldest daughter. No amount of training, of working with prima-donnas or soloists could prepare him for the mental warfare of raising a teenager. 

“I mean you’re obviously gay.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please, dad. You have a Patti LaPone shrine. With a photo of you both together in the centre.”

“You can be straight and like Patti LaPone,” Tobias murmured, turning the volume down again. 

“A shrine.”

Tobias sighed, looking out the window. Had this been how Tobias expected to come out to his daughter like this? Had he wished it was a little bit more… wholesome? Maybe. 

“Florence… your mother and I loved each other,” he started. “But in a platonic way. I don’t know what she told you about me and I don’t want you to think I don’t love you. But, yes. I’m gay.”

“Great,” Florence turned the volume back up. “Where are we going?”

“I signed Eloise up for boxing lessons. It’s also meant to like a self-confidence class? I’m worried about her.”

“She’s seven with a dead mom and an a famous dad.”

“Is that how you feel?” Tobias glanced at Florence, trying to get a read of his daughter. She was… sharp. In a way that reminded Tobias of his own sister. Florence shifted, skipping the song and then stopping when Cancer began playing. 

“I don’t feel.”

Tobias tried his best not to roll his eyes. 

Teenagers were hard work. 

“So, the crying I hear at night is just a hallucination?”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t know.”

“I’m not going to force you to talk,” Tobias turned the volume down. “I don’t believe in that. But, Florence. I also lost my mom too, you know.” 

“And you turned out just great,” Florence replied. 

Tobias thought he had turned out great. 

Florence looked at the boxing club as it came into view, then back at Tobias. “This isn’t at all dodgy.”

“I know the guy,” Tobias stopped the car, “He’s not a bad person.”

“Whatever.”

Tobias knew when to walk away, and this was one of those times. He took the keys, making his way into the gym and trying not to sigh. Eloise was stood, separated from all the groups. His eyes met Gabins briefly, and the teacher gave a soft shake of his head. 

“She… I think there’s a lot of work to do,” Gabin said gently. 

“That bad?”

“She loves moving, and is very good at it. She’s definitely got the genes of a ballet dancer, but she really does not want to talk to other people.”

Tobias sighed, scrubbing his face. He made himself take a deep breath, he wouldn’t cry. Not now, not in public. 

“Hey,” Gabin touched Tobias’s elbow, and he wasn’t immediately repulsed by the action. “You’re ok.”

“Why does my best not feel enough?”

“The joys of having children, no? I don’t have any, but my cat might as well be.”

“I just don’t understand how to fix it.”

“Maybe, it doesn’t need fixed,” Gabin said, looking back at Eloise. “Maybe, it’s just about understanding her.” 

Tobias glanced at Gabin, looking at him. The moms collected their children, and he heard them giggling about Gabins biceps. He saw the looks. 

Part of Tobias recognised it, feeling like a zoo animal for the entertainment of some repressed mother from the suburbs. 

“I have a crazy idea,” Tobias whispered. 

“Ok?”

“The moms are hitting on you, right? They hit on me as well. I’m sick of it and I think it might be easier for Eloise to trust you if she knows I trust you, right? So, maybe we should pretend we’re dating.”

“Tobias…”

“It’ll only be for a few months. It’ll get the moms the back off, and it’ll help Eloise. Please, Gabin.”

Gabin bit his lip, looking at Tobias before looking at Eloise. 

“Alright sure.”

What did he have to loose?