Chapter Text
Simon Fischer was nervous.
More than nervous, anxious even. For the past ten minutes, he’s been pacing his small apartment like a madman. His dog, Laika, tilts her head in confusion as she watches her owner slowly crumble. Simon mutters to himself, things spanning from what to go over with his students today to what the hell he’s going to have for dinner.
Simon feels a twist in his gut and lets out a small sob, overcome with anxiety suddenly. Laika notices immediately comes running to him. He reaches out to pet her fur, gives himself something to ground him, and takes a few deep breaths. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiles at Laika with teary eyes. “Thanks, girl,” he whispers hoarsely, and Laika gives him a nose boop in return.
Simon makes his way back to his feet and drags a hand across his face. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over starting his new job. But anxiety strikes when you least expect it, especially when you’ve just moved across the country after a terrible year.
After going through his closet, Simon comes to the conclusion that he needs a wardrobe refresh. Most of his clothes are thick and heavy, meant for colder weather, and were bound to give him heat stroke if he dared walk outside with them. His summer options weren’t exactly professional either. He’s sure his students won’t take him seriously if he showed up in jorts and a band t-shirt on the first day of school.
A few outfits later, Simon has his first day uniform picked: a long sleeve, white button-up that’s not too thick, brown slacks, and his well-loved loafers. He then attaches his prosthetic arm, ties his hair up loosely, grabs his coffee and bag, gives Laika a quick kiss goodbye, and finally heads out the door.
He takes a deep breath, half-expecting to smell wet grass and the cool weather of Maine, but is instead met with the smell of garbage cans and the cigarette smoke from his neighbor’s apartment. Not exactly pleasant, but startling enough to wake him up.
Simon walks out to his car in no hurry; he’s already getting to work forty-five minutes early. He starts the engine and plays music he hopes will calm his nerves. White-knuckling the steering wheel, Simon lets the smooth, sad voice of Robert Smith fill his head as he sighs.
It’s not that he’s anxious about teaching. Simon has already been a middle school teacher for going on nine years now, and has loved (almost) every second of it. He’s anxious about meeting his coworkers. He already met the principal and some of the administrators during his interview and onboarding procedures, but Ms. Stratt wasn’t exactly a welcoming principal. All hard edges and sharp looks, Eva Stratt made it clear to Simon that nonsense had no home in her school.
Not to mention his previous year at his school in Maine wasn’t exactly what he envisioned. When you cross Simon with an obnoxious and egotistical coworker, you get a broken nose and a trip across the country to a new job. But he’s not in the mood to mull over his past mistakes.
Suffice to say, Simon was a bit scared of whatever this school year will throw at him.
It was moments like this where Simon wished he had been a little more approachable to his colleagues, or to anyone who crossed his path. As sad as it is to say, Simon had no one to write home to in Maine about his predicament. No one to express his worries to, no one to rub his back when he needed it, he was alone. In the times where he does need someone to ground him, he always has Laika. But sometimes it’s not enough.
Simon misses his mom. He misses tender touches and hugs, forehead kisses goodnight and “I love you”s.
Simon misses the feeling of being loved. Sure, he’s had partners in the past. But every single relationship ended the same: Simon dumped them because nothing ever felt right. After his third boyfriend in the span of two years, he decided against dating. That maybe he was better off alone with his dog.
But that didn’t take away the feeling of loneliness.
Loneliness eventually makes its way to sadness, then dread, and then anxiety. The cursed pipeline.
Pulling up to his parking spot, Simon takes one more deep breath. “Just go in there for the kids. It’s just another school year.” With absolutely no one you know, his brain supplies him with. He shakes off the thought quickly.
He steps off the car and starts up the steps to Grover Cleveland Middle School, thermos clutched in hand. As he walks through the halls to his classroom with his head low, Simon all but crashes into a stranger who also wasn’t looking where they were going.
Ready to fire off a curt remark on the stranger’s clumsiness, he bites his tongue almost immediately.
The man sprawled on the floor looks up at him with a pained expression, as if Simon was going to scold him. But all Simon could focus on was his wide, sparkling, blue eyes. Eyes that Simon wanted to dive into and float in mindlessly. His blonde hair stuck upright, as if he rolled out of bed not even ten minutes ago. It was endearing. His gold-rimmed glasses sat askew on his face as the man blushed hard at Simon’s staring. Simon couldn’t help himself, though; he had never seen such a pretty shade of pink. The stranger’s mouth fell open, a small attempt at apologizing, or maybe to gasp for air? Simon wasn’t sure. All he could think about is if those lips were as soft as they looked, and how badly he wanted to get an answer to his question.
Their papers lay scattered about everywhere, but all Simon could do was find the soft blue eyes again. It was then that he realized: this was the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.