Sub(stitute)

Coffee

(let me preface, I am not from the uk so if I fuck up the school system I'm sorry but correct me when I do)

Harry had just graduated a couple months ago, finishing his thesis and packing up his uni life to head to London where he'd wanted to move since he was 16. He attended a school close to home so he could save up for a small place in the city when he was ready.

He figured he'd never be out of school, having just spent most of his youth in it and then becoming a part time teacher just to go back. He's been working on several novels since starting university, having finished two, working on getting them published. Until he could start making a living off of writing, however, he needed a steady job that would keep his income going, so he got a degree in academic discipline to work as a substitute teacher during the week.

The break was coming to a close and the new school year was right around the corner, which meant Harry's first day was close.

He didn't know exactly when he'd be called in to work, probably not right away because most teachers try to show up the first week of classes. But there was always an absence and he had to keep his schedule clear in case he was needed. On most days, he'd stay home writing or walk around the city getting inspiration.

On days like today, he'd get a call early in the morning, asking him to fill in. When he was a student, substitute teachers were more there to babysit rather than lecture. He figured he could use that time to write and edit his work, getting paid by the hour.

The school was preppy, everyone in navy blue uniforms. The building itself looked over a hundred years old and stood out among the other, more modern structures.

He got there early to beat the ocean of students filing in right before first class. As he handed in his paperwork and signed in, the front desk lady gave him a name tag. He thanked her and went to go find his room. On his way, to the English wing, he passed a room with a small kitchenette and sofas. The door was open, a woman standing in the doorway, finishing her conversation with someone inside. He figured it was the teacher's lounge so he kept walking, clashing into a shorter man as he turned.

His travel mug spilled all over his shirt, burning him with the fresh coffee he made before he left.

"Shit!" He whispered to himself, mood shifting from nervous to pissed off.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," the other one said in the same hushed tone, sounding genuine.

Harry looked up from his stained shirt to see a man in similar attire, a button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and slacks that fit just right.

"Here let me get you napkins," he offered, grabbing Harry's upper arm and dragging him into the teachers lounge he had just walked by.

He ripped off some paper towels, padding them against Harry's chest, trying to soak up some of the coffee, flustered and not sure what else to do.

Harry chuckled at the hectic man, "it's okay, I've got it," he assured him, taking the napkins out of his hand.

"Are you sure? I might have another shirt in my room. I can go get it," the shorter man offered, worried he'd ruined Harry's day.

"Don't worry about it, this'll get me through the day. It's just coffee."

"But–wait. I haven't seen you around here, are you a new teacher this year?"

"No," he mumbled, patting his shirt until it seemed to be somewhat better.

"Are you a sub, then?" He asked curiously.

Harry looked up, eyebrows meeting his hairline, "uhh, well... I–sort of. With someone I trust... with boundaries of course...and safewords," he said unsure, looking anywhere but at the smaller man.