Work Text
Arthur frowned as he opened one of his powerpoints and loaded the whiteboard up. He had about 2 minutes until his first class of the day started. At least it wasn’t a bad class, they always seemed to get on with their work, even if they were a bit talkative he thought, sipping his luke-warm coffee. The Brit hadn’t always wanted to be a teacher, when he was young he’d dreamed of becoming a historian or a writer, however, Arthur knew as well as the next man that dreams do not come true, thus he was a history teacher in a country 8 hours away from his home. The school bell sounded suddenly, drawing the green-eyed man from his thoughts as the first of his students started to file into the classroom, each one looking more tired than the last. Arthur let them all settle down while he busied himself with a pile of textbooks which were at the back of the class.After ten minutes the class was in full swing, Arthur was at the front talking about the Roman Republic.
“So as you know from your last lesson, the first triumvirate was aligned in 60 BC, can anyone tell me who was in the alliance?” Green eyes scanned across the room as a few hands flew up, indicating they knew the answer, not as many as he had hoped but then again it was a Monday morning. “Chris,” he pointed to a boy near the back.
“Caesar, Pompey and Crassus, sir,” the boy said.
“That is correct, well done, this lesson we will be moving on to the reign of Julius Caesar as Rome’s dictator.” Arthur was about to hand out the textbooks when another hand flew up. “Yes, Jamie?”
“Are we going to look at the book?”
“Excuse me?” the teacher turned his whole body to the student, indicating his confusion.
“You know, the book, Julius Caesar, we’re studying it in English.”
“You’re studying wh- oh,” Arthur frowned and picked up the textbooks, “you mean the play by William Shakespeare?”
“Yeah, are we-”
“No, we are not, because that is a play which is dramatized for entertainment, therefore holds no reliability for a historian,” the blonde said, setting the textbooks on each desk.The rest of the lesson passed quickly and before Arthur knew it he was sitting at his desk marking test papers.
“God, some of these kids are bloody stupid,” he muttered, scribbling an ‘X’ and some notes about why the student was wrong.
“Shouldn’t say that out loud, someone might hear you.” The British man jumped at the voice and glared at the bespectacled man in front of his desk. Alfred F Jones, physics teacher.
“What do you want?” Arthur grumbled, setting his pen down before resuming his glare at Alfred.
“I was looking for Mattie, thought he might be with you since you’re both from the same department thingy.” The younger male waved his hands in the air, referring to the classroom.
“You mean our classrooms are near each other?” Arthur sufficed.
“Yeah, that, I needed to ask him if he can give me a ride home, I left my wallet at home so I ain’t got no money to catch the train like normal and my car is still in for repairs,” the American said, picking up one of the textbooks and flipping through it. “So…” The Brit waited for the man to carry on, but it seemed he had no intention of doing so.
“So what?”
“Sooooo, is he here?” Arthur face-palmed and sighed.
“Yes, in fact, I was able to find a spell that made him invisible to only you, he’s been standing in front of you this entire time,” he said, picking up his pen again to continue marking. Alfred obviously didn’t sense the sarcasm.
“Really? Wow, that’s so cool bro, how’d you-”
“No! Of course, he’s not bloody here, I was being sarcastic,” Arthur almost shouted at his fellow teacher, “He’s probably upstairs with that frog,” he added, calming down enough to finish the current paper he was marking.
“You mean Francis?”
“No, I meant the pet frog that Matthew totally has.”
“He has a-”
“Sarcasm!” Arthur cut in once more, his temper being tested; how could this man be so stupid and a physics teacher at the same time?
“Oh, right, so you did mean Francis?” The blonde male sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
“Yes, I meant Francis, that bloody french frog.” Alfred started laughing at this, causing Arthur to look up in annoyance and confusion. “What?”
“I dunno, man, it's just weird that he’s french but he teaches English, I know it's not like the language but I dunno, just kinda funny.” Green eyes were rolled as new irritation grew within the blonde. It wasn’t funny, in his opinion it was almost an insult English, that bloody Frenchman was teaching English? While he taught history? Something just didn't add up, at least he Alfred spoke English as a first language and didn’t have a stupid accent; well not as stupid as his.
“Its an offence to the English language,” Arthur said, bushy eyebrows furrowed as he barely contained his anger.
“Well I dunno about that, he’s not bad at teaching the kids about books and whatever, I even heard some of them imitate his accent to remember quotes from books.” Alfred clearly didn’t notice the look of contempt upon the Briton’s face as he carried on speaking. Arthur could imagine students reciting poetry with a French accent, then his mind wandered and he imagined the students reciting Shakespeare with a French accent; he had never wanted to kick someone more in his life.
“Hey, Art, are you even listening to me?”
“What? Oh yeah, I-” the bell suddenly rang and Alfred jumped off the table he had been sitting on.
“Jeez, gotta run I’ve got to teach 10th-grade physics.” And before Arthur could scold the man for knocking his coffee mug over he had dashed out of the classroom and down the corridor as another class started to walk in. I’ll get both of them, the frog and that bloody wanker he thought as he started his lesson.About 2 weeks past and Arthur had changed his mind about Francis. He no longer wanted to kick him… no, he wanted to kill him.
“He’s doing it on purpose I know he is!” The Englishman growled as he slammed his empty mug on the counter. It was Wednesday and already Arthur had had his Julius Caesar classes interrupted 5 times when a student asked about the book. It’s not even a bloody book! It’s a play!
“I don’t think he chooses what to teach them, Arthur,” Matthew said quietly, nibbling on a cookie.
“Yeah, well the bloody wanker could’ve chosen a different time to teach it instead of the same time I'm teaching the real thing!” Every lesson he had to explain that the ‘book’ was actually a play and that it wasn’t historically accurate, there’s no evidence that Caesar said ‘Et Tu Brute?’, that ‘Mark Antony’ was actually ‘Marcus Antonius’ and that Shakespeare had made up most of the things for dramatic effect. The already short-tempered Brit was becoming more and more annoyed by the continuous cascade of questions about the play instead of about real history.
“Good morning Matthew, Arthur,” Roderich said as he passed the two men with a cup of coffee.
“I don’t see anything particularly good about it,” the history teacher grumbled, “I swear if another one asks about Shakespeare I will tear my eyes out.” Normally Arthur would be delighted that one of his students was asking about Shakespeare; one he loved reading and would’ve prefered to teach English rather than history and two, he liked to think that the kids would rather ask an actual English person about an English playwright.
“Have you talked to Francis? Maybe tell him to include facts or tell them that it's just a book?” the Canadian asked, brushing crumbs off his lap and standing up.
“It's not a book!” Arthur cried, making a number of heads turn to him in alarm. “And no, I don’t want to spend any more time with that sodding frog than I have to.” Matthew sighed nodded, gathering his things like all the other teachers.
“Yeah I know, but maybe you shouldn’t get so worked up about it, after a month or two you’ll both move on to different parts of the module, just suffer through it.” The green-eyed man was about to protest but he was interrupted by a loud voice.
“Yo! Mattie! You’re meant to be helping me mark my papers!”
“Yeah, I’m coming Al! I’ll see you later, Arthur.” And he disappeared out of the door of the staff room.
“Fine,” mumbled the Brit, picking up his bag, “I’ve got that class to teach again anyway.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
‘Come not between a dragon and his wrath’
“Homework is to be on my desk by the end of the lesson, just in case any of you have forgotten and feel the need to scribble it down during the lesson.” There was a shuffling sound as some students pulled out their homework and others muttered to their friends about copying it down. “But for now we are going to start with the plot to kill Caesar.” Arthur frowned as he heard more muttering, distinctly heard the words ‘English’ ‘book’ and ‘Cassius’. Trying to ignore the comments, the brit moved the powerpoint on and clicked on the correct slide. “The conspiracy to kill Caesar was led by Gaius Cassius Longinus, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, and Marcus Junius Brutus. These men were-”“Sir, sir!” The blonde sighed and nodded to the boy with his hand in the air. “They were senators, right? Cassius manipulated Brutus to join the conspiracy after Caesar was offered a crown.”“There’s no evidence to say that Cassius manipulated Brutus, but yes the rest of it was correct-”“But, sir, my English teacher said that he probably was manipulating Brutus beca-” Arthur closed his eyes, and the class fell silent.“Who, may I ask is your English teacher?” he said, already knowing the answer, but keeping politeness in his tone; he was a gentleman after all.“Um, Mr Bonnefoy,” the boy replied quietly, seeming to sense that he had gotten the English teacher in trouble.“I see, well you can take it from me that everything that man says about Julius Caesar is probably wrong, Shakespeare wrote the play over a millennium after the events on which it is based, so please do not bring it to this lesson.” Arthur knew it was pointless, he knew the kids would still ask him about what they were studying in English but honestly it was just becoming annoying now. “I shall be having strong words with Mr Bonnefoy after school.” Finally, the teacher opened his eyes to see all his students watching him nervously, not knowing if he would start shouting or not. “Right, now if you will allow me to carry on. Gaius Cassius Longinus, Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, and Marcus Junius Brutus were all senators of the Roman Republic, they led the assassination of Caesar after he was declared dictator perpetuo, which meant he controlled Rome solely, which was against the ideals of the Republic.” After Arthur’s lesson was over and he collected all the homework in and set it aside ad the next class came in. He talked for a few minutes about World War One before allowing the class to answer some questions so he could go on his laptop. This was very much the same until the end of classes finally came and Arthur started to tidy all the books and papers away so he could go and find a certain English teacher. I think his classroom is E9, yeah I remember Matthew saying, not that I actually care but like now it comes in useful. Arthur had been teaching at this school for two years, he was lucky in the fact that he had found the job as soon as he moved to America, but maybe that was less to do with luck and more to do with Alfred. Arthur had left Britain in a bad state, not financially but emotionally; his family had found out his sexuality and he had run out of the house before he could hear their scorns. It was coincidental that the dinner he had been having was a farewell dinner as he had his flight the next day. As soon as the blonde had landed he had called Alfred, whom he was staying with for a few months. The two men had been friends ever since Alfred had visited England and bumped into Arthur (literally) in London. At first the Brit had been rude and walked away, however, Alfred had followed him, asking for directions to the nearest underground station. Artur then helped the American get a ticket and get to the right station, the two had exchanged contact details and become friends. Alfred helped get Arthur a job in the same school as him and the rest was history. Well unless you count last year when the school had gained a new English teacher who had taken to annoying Arthur as much as possible; luckily as they were both busy it wasn’t too often.“E7, E8, aha E9.” Arthur stopped outside the classroom and adjusted his tie before opening the door and walking in.Francis had been completely unaware of the fact that there was a very angry British man after him. Well actually he was very aware but he just didn’t know the exact reason, Arthur seemed to be angry with him so often he didn’t even care he just found it amusing to watch the man swell with rage. His lessons were going perfectly, his students seemed to understand the text very well, even if he did have to translate it from old Shakespearean English to modern. Some of the students even had contextual knowledge from their history lessons which he begrudgingly thanked Arthur for as it helped the story move along. The Frenchman was cleaning his whiteboard when his classroom door was flung open revealing a very annoyed blonde brit.“Salut, Arthur, what brings you here?” he smiled and set the board rubber down, fully turning to the other teacher, “could I be you’ve finally accepted your undying love for moi?”“No, I bloody well have not,” Arthur replied, blushing and crossing his arms as he stepped into the classroom so the door could shut. “I’ve come to tell you to stop teaching my students about Julius Caesar.” Francis blinked and his smile faded to a look of confusion as he sat down on one of the desks.“Quoi? I can’t stop teaching them, it’s my job,” he said slowly, not entirely sure what the younger male was talking about. “You do know what this place is, yes? It’s a school, were teachers,” he gestured to himself and Arthur, “teach students.”“I know! I’m not stupid! I mean stop teaching them false information about Julius Caesar, it's doing my head in!” Arthur glared at Francis as if by only using the power of his gaze he could ignite the man and burn him to a crisp.“Oh.” Francis closed his eyes and nodded finally understanding what had made the man angry this time. “You mean the play my classes are studying. Well, I don’t know why you’re blaming me, I don't choose what to teach them, mon cher.” He smiled again, standing up so he could wipe the rest of the board clean.“Well you could do it at a different time to me, I can't go one bloody lesson without having to correct Mark Antony to Marcus Antonius or having to listen to about five kids reciting ‘and you, Brutus’ in Latin with a stupid French accent,” Arthur huffed, letting his arms drop to his sides.“You mean, ‘Et tu, Brute?’” Francis asked, grinning at the Englishman, “they seem to find it easier to remember quotes from the book if they remember it with an accent as beautiful as mine, anyway shouldn’t you be glad that they’re learning it twice, makes them less likely to forget.”“No, because what you’re teaching them is fictional, but they take it as fact and don't listen when I tell them it’s not! And it’s a play, not a book! The whole thing is dramatized and stupid, like hell Julius Caesar just let himself be stabbed without much of a fight, he was a soldier and a general, and it’s just pathetic that line he says!” The Briton threw his hands in the air and picked up one the Julius Caesar books Ok maybe it was in book form but it’s supposed to be a play! “‘Et tu, Brute?- Then fall, Caesar’ that just sounds so stupid and it’s not historically accurate, and-”“Mon Dieu, Arthur, you do know how to study a piece of text, maybe you should be an English teacher, history is obviously too stressful for you,” Francis cut the shorter male off, smirking at the glare shot at him.“I’d be a better English teacher than you because I'm actually English, I don’t see how anyone would understand the intricate details and complexities when you’re teaching them with your stupid accent, Shakespeare was English, he wrote plays in English-”“Ah, but I don’t teach the language, see? I teach the wonderful art of literature, helping to guide the young soul through words and feeling that writer try to portray, my nationality has nothing to do with it, that's the beauty of it, non?” Francis smiled and waved his hands in the air as if he were doing magic; Arthur thought it was rather graceful- wait no he didn’t it was stupid like everything this frog did.“Beauty my arse! It’s only beautiful when you can actually imagine it properly, you can’t do that if you’re reading it, frog!” Francis frowned and crossed his arms.“There's no 'proper' way to imagine any kind of literature, of course, there are different interpretations, however, none are ‘correct’. For instance, some people may imagine Brutus with brown hair, some others may think he has blonde hair, there’s no correct answer.”“Most Romans had brown hair so it was most likely he had brown hair, and also Shakespeare would’ve had an idea in his head too and he would’ve picked the actor best suited his imagination, so of course there’s a correct concept,” Arthur retorted, crossing his arms again, “stop trying to make nothing have a correct answer, it’s not mystical or magical its just a stupid play.”“A stupid play? How could you say that? Of course, it’s magical, it’s the power of acting and interpretation. Or can your silly little mind not comprehend anything that is remotely fun or likeable?” Francis put his hands on his hips and stepped towards Arthur, blue eyes returning the glare.“Of course I can, you bloody stupid french frog! It’s just that there’s nothing special about that play, it’s incorrect and stupid, just like you and your stupid accent and stupid face and stupid-” The shorter male stepped towards the taller, his eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared as Francis interrupted him.“Do you not know any other adjectives? English is not a very compelling language.” The smirk was back as the Frenchman looked down, noticing the distance that had been between the two had gotten considerably smaller, not that he minded.“Don’t lecture me about my own language, how would you like it if I started saying you spoke French wrong?” Arthur bit back, eyes burning as he, in fact, didn’t notice how close he was standing to Francis.“Ah, but mon amour, like I said there is no correct way of-”“Agh! Shut up, of course, there is! French has rules, so does English and Brutus would’ve had brown hair.” And with that Arthur turned around and stormed out the classroom, slamming the door as he heard a French laugh from behind him. I’m going to kill that man I swear-“Hey, Artie!” The British man whirled around to glare at the man who called his name, or rather a nickname which he hated.“Don’t call me that, Alfred,” he snapped.“Woah, dude, what’s wrong lemme guess you just paid Francis a visit?” The blonde American tilted his head and grinned at his friend.“Yes, and I am going to kill him, that bloody French bastard,” Arthur growled, shoving his hands in his pockets.“Aw, c’mon bro, just chill me Mattie and Kiku are going to grab some pizza and watch a film, wanna join?” Arthur frowned at the poor language and shook his head.“No, thank you, I’ve got a ton of papers to mark and not enough time in the day as it is, I’m going home, I need a bloody cup of tea before I strangle someone.”