Chapter Text
Of course Harry is late at least once before the first week of term is over. He quickly grabs the stack of papers he graded until well after midnight and gets out of his car to walk towards the building (No matter how late he is, he will give up his dignity by running anywhere, thank you).
He's just thinking about the fastest way to class and whether or not he should drop by his office before (yes) and check his mail (also yes) when he stumbles over something before him. He manages to prevent himself from falling, but drops all the papers in the process. Before he can start cursing he gets interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Shit. Sorry."
Harry turns and looks at the same boy he ran into on his first day. He's kneeling on the cobbles beside him with a small spatula in his hand. "Shit, I should-" He puts the scraper aside and starts gathering the papers, which are now spread out over the pavement.
"I'm already late, this doesn't make that much of a difference," Harry says as he crouches down to do the same.
"I started with the pavement cause I thought everyone was inside by now and I wouldn't be in anybody's way." The boy, Eggsy, he remembers, tries to sort the papers while collecting them. Harry thinks he should have stapled them at home. He also thinks that he should head to class without further delays and do his office and mail afterwards.
"Thoughtful. Just leave it, I'll sort them in class. Or better, I'll let them sort the stacks themselves."
He's pulled out of his thoughts by hearing the other laugh, what suprises him a little. Usually only James laughs at his professor jokes, and then only to annoy Percival, who hates them.
"Here." Eggsy hands Harry the first stack before he turns slightly to pick up a few pages on his right.
"Thank you." Harry looks at the two uneven and unsorted piles in front of him and sighs. "I should have stapled the essays yesterday."
"Essays." Eggsy tries to even the next stack before he hands them over. He scannes the page while Harry takes it. "Shakespeare... you teachin' literature class then?"
Eggsy collects the last pages, while Harry adds the assorted piles to his large, unsorted heap.
"Yes I do, literature and theatre actually."
They both get up, Eggsy holding the last few pages and Harry holding his messy stack in both hands, making sure nothing falls out again.
Eggsy speaks again while evening his out. "Who the fuck writes about Romeo and Juliet? A bunch of people dying 'cause of two hormonal teenies."
Harry raises an eyebrow as he tries to take the last few pages. It proves to be difficult without dropping anything. "If this one is overrated to you, what would you write a paperabout instead?"
Eggsy tuts and moves closer to simply place the paper on Harrys pile and answers immediately.
"Shakespeare? So many good plays. I really like King Lear, it's like an actual good version of Game of Thrones. Much ado about nothing is hilarious. My fave is Coriolanus though, no one is straight and the women are awesome." Eggsy huffs slightly as he pulls out of Harry's personal space again. "There are too many. Depends on the class and the context I guess. But everything is better than Romeo and Juliet. Not a lovestory, it's a damn joke."
Harry doesn't respond for a moment, being genuenely impressed with what he just heard. Eggsy seems to pick up on Harry's surprise so he crosses his arms and raises his chin slightly. "Surprised, huh? Guess what, someone like me can know shit about Shakespeare, too."
Harry regains his composure quickly enough and raises an eyebrow. "No. I'm simply surprised that someone your age prefers Coriolanus to one of the most well known romantic stories in pop culture."
Eggsy huffs and seems to straighten up further. "What do you mean someone my age? I'm not 16 and in my Romeo-crazy phase any more."
"No, I suppose not." Now that Harry is able to take a closer look he can clearly see that Eggsy is in fact not at all a teenager but seems already past his early twenties. And knows his way around at least some classical literature, with very unusual choices. Interesting.
Eggsy frowns slightly and shifts, seemingly uncomfortable with being looked at so closely- when did Harry start looking so closely? "Those orange nightmares make it a bit hard to judge I guess. No one can pull them off, everyone looks short and ridiculous."
Eggsy wears said jumpsuit with the top half pulled down, the sleeves wrapped around his middle to make sure the bottom part won't drop. Harry's gaze slides down his bare arms, to the tanktop he's wearing underneath. "Oh, I very much disagree."
Eggsy frowns even more and looks like he wants to say something before the probation officer- this time wearing an orange jacket and neon orange cap, as equally hideous as the ones he wore last time- calls him. Eggsy looks down to the not even close to finished task of exchanging old broken cobbles with new ones.
Harry continues swiftly. "Well talking about orange nightmares."
Eggsy quickly kneels and picks up the spatula again. "Shit."
"And here we agree. His choices are truly...shit."
Eggsy picks up where he left off and pokes around the cracks between two stones. "Yeah yeah, don't you have, like, essays about shitty romances to hand back?"
"Indeed. Have a nice day."
"Whatever."
Harry turns around and makes his way up to the building only to stop and look back, once halfway there.
"Ah, and Eggsy?" Eggsy looks up, obviously suprised that Harry knows his name. "You really shouldn't make a habit of making professors run into you." Harry, now satisfied with the slightly embarrassed and still surprised look on Eggsy's face, turns around again and finally reaches the entrance.
Full of surprises, this Eggsy, he thinks as he makes his way to his office to check his mail.
While the boy who wrote the essay on Romeo and Juliet tries to defend his "true love in plays" theory in front of the class- and of course fails, it is a story about two teenage idiots after all- Harry's thoughts wander to the young man, who, without Harry's knowledge, broke a spatula while aggressively trying to hack out a cobblestone from the pavement after their last encounter.