Archive of Our Own ^beta

Being gay had never been Frank Hebden’s biggest problem. As a child, before his curse manifested, he didn’t ever think about romance. He played in the woods, ran around with sticks and slayed imaginary bad guys. He fantasized about being a badass monster hunter, or a vampire slayer or whatever else he had seen in movies or cartoons.

It took being a teen, flooded by hormones, for him to discover that rush of dopamine when you see someone you’re instantly attracted to. And that person happened to be a boy. At first, Frank hardly interpreted that as being gay, since he was at a boys school. Of course, if he’d be attracted to anyone in his life, it would be a boy. Who else did he even meet? The more he thought about it, though, the less he could see himself with a girl. And the dopamine was good. He crushed on anyone who was even slightly interesting. He found that he wasn’t just attracted to boys, he liked weirdness. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the guy who grew a full beard over the course of a day. He was infatuated with the boy a few years his senior who had his eyeballs floating next to his head. He kissed a boy with a crocodile face. He liked being around ‘freaks’. And since they were all freaks, nobody really batted an eye at him being gay, so long as he understood ‘no’, which he did. And sometimes he understood ‘yes’. Those were good times.

After graduating and coming back to the normal world for longer than a summer, being gay still wasn’t his biggest problem. This time, it was because anyone who would dislike him being gay generally already disliked him for being made of little cubes. Yeah, he got discriminated against, but not for being gay. He attended art school, where it also wasn’t a problem, because in art school, it was kind of uncool to be straight anyway. His cubic skin became the object of many portraits by fascinated classmates.

He graduated art school and still, him being gay wasn’t the biggest problem, because now, he was looking for a job as a teacher and despite most schools needing teachers, apparently none of them needed a teacher that looked like pixel art. That was, until he saw the advert: St. Churnley’s needed a new crafts teacher. He had never written a letter of application that fast. He was invited for an interview and that was the first time in his life that being gay was, in fact, his biggest problem.

Because in the room he was let into for the interview wasn’t just Hexmaster Singh, but there was also a man with a bunch of eyeballs floating around him, all of which were now looking at him.

Matthew Hinks.

A name he mostly remembered because it had decorated the borders of his notebooks in his third year at the school, accompanied by little hearts. All thoughts left Frank’s mind as he glanced at the gorgeous man. He was even more attractive now than he had been in high school, with a few early onset grey hairs at his temples, a few new eyeballs in his collection and a set of dark grey and purple robes that radiated authority. DAMN.

“Frank Hebden?” Matthew asked and Frank almost forgot to answer, simply enjoying Matthew’s voice saying his name. It was an honour.

“Eh… yeah, yes! Yep! Frank Hebden, is me.” He pointed at himself for emphasis and wanted to die on the spot.

“I know,” Matthew said. Frank had to remind himself that of course he knew who he’d be interviewing for a job, and that of course this didn’t mean Matthew had also drawn hearts with his name back at school… but that was still also possible, right? Two things could be true at the same time.

Hexmaster Singh had asked something. Oops. Frank blinked.

“Excuse me, could you repeat that?”

“I asked how you have been since graduation. I know we haven’t met before, but, as cursed boys amongst each other, I just want to know what your time outside has been like.”

“Oh, right, good!” Frank blurted out, before really thinking about it. Art school had been good. He told a little about his classmates being fascinated by his skin. Meanwhile, every other sentence, he was distracted by Matthew simply existing in the same space as him. Surely, people were supposed to get over crushes at some point?

Singh nodded along to his story about art school, even if Frank was pretty sure it made no sense.

“Good to hear that,” the Hexmaster said. “I’ve definitely heard worse. The boys think the plagueround is rough, but the outside world can be much worse, especially when your curse manifests as visibly as yours.” He looked at both Frank and Matthew. Matthew nodded solemly.

“I studied Latin and history, wrote my master thesis about Maledictus Anglicus and then tried to find a spot as a teacher, but it’s hard when you arrive at an interview with two differently coloured eyes and a few more in your bag, effectively making you half blind, trying to appear normal- Anyway, this isn’t my therapy, this is your job interview.” Matthew smiled warmly at Frank, who felt like he was looking directly into the sun and melting completely into the ground. Sadly, that wasn’t what was happening. Instead, he was just staring at Matthew during his job interview. And did he imagine it, or was Matthew staring back? It was hard to tell, since his eyes were all over the place.

“So, we have a few candidates we’re talking with today,” Singh said, which sort of snapped Frank out of his hypnosis, but not fully. “I’d love to hear what sets you apart from the rest.”

“I, eh…” Frank started, which wasn’t a great start. He also wasn’t looking at the Hexmaster, he realised, so he tore his gaze away from Matthew. “I like crafting a lot.”

“Yes, well, so do the other candidates,” Singh said, unimpressed.

“I have a portfolio, I...” Frank had something prepared for this question, he was quite sure of that. He had had enough job interviews over the past year or so to know what types of questions to prepare for. But he had forgotten all of it, and I just really want to work with Matthew Hinks if that’s all right with you wasn’t exactly the selling point he’d like it to be.

“We’ve seen your portfolio,” Singh said.

“It was impressive,” Matthew added. Frank’s heart skipped a beat. Good lord, he was 25. He had always expected that at some point, maybe when the teenage hormones calmed down a little, he’d be able to talk to hot men without being an absolutely useless pile of cubes. Apparently he had to conclude that useless pile of cubes was just his true self.

“I am… eh…” Frank blinked for a second, hoping it would help him focus.

“Are you nervous?” Matthew asked, making everything worse.

“Eh, no, I’m…” gay, which wasn’t what Frank said, because even in this state, he realised that that wouldn’t help him much in getting a job. God, what was his special talent? Did he have one? He was quite musical! He could “sing”.

“You… are sing?” Matthew repeated.

“I am Singh,” the Hexmaster added, confused.

“I can sing!” Frank quickly corrected himself. “I like music. I could do band, with the students, along with crafting.

“And are you good with students who may need a little more than just their normal lessons?” Singh asked.

“Yeah! Ehm, yeah!”

“Could you give an example, from your experience?”

Frank stared in the distance. His mind was completely blank. Surely, he had some sort of experience? Why did nothing come to mind?

"I know something," Matthew said and Frank allowed himself to stare at him again. That was all right, right? When someone was talking. “When you were in fourth grade and I was in sixth-” Oh my god oh my god oh my god he remembers my existence “-I had this classmate who often went non-verbal when his curse was too much for him. And if I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly – you were the one helping him express himself with his creativity, correct?”

Frank’s jaw had dropped, but he nodded.

“Eh… yes, Oliver, the boy with the grass hair,” he remembered.

“Among other plant-parts, yes,” Matthew added with a soft smile. “He spoke quite highly of you, when he spoke.”

“Thanks,” Frank said, not sure what else to say. The fact that Matthew remembered him at all, and remembered him positively…

“Well, I think I’ve heard enough,” the Hexmaster said, which sounded a little ominous. Frank had messed it up, hadn’t he? “And any questions I still have, I should maybe ask Matthew instead of you.”

“Don’t be hard on him, Ranjit,” Matthew said, the absolute saint. “A job interview can be nerve-wrecking. But I can vouch for Frank Hebden.” He got up from his chair and held out his hand to Frank. “Let me walk you to the door.”

Frank knew where the door was, but still happily took Matthew’s hand, who apparently wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. So they walked from the Hexmaster’s office to the front door, holding hands.

“I really hope he picks you,” Matthew said, finally letting go of Frank’s hand as they reached the door. “But if not, please write me? I’m at the school for most of the year, so any letter addressed to me that lands here will find its way.”

“Of course,” Frank said. Butterflies filled his stomach. Was this really happening? Was this Matthew asking him to stay in touch?!

“When I graduated,” Matthew continued, “I had been doubting if I should ask for your contact details, because I really wanted to get to know you better… But with me being two years older… back then, that felt like a huge difference.”

“It kind of is, at that age,” Frank agreed.

“But now I’m 27 and two years is nothing,” Matthew laughed. “So… I’d love to learn more about you, whether you come to work here or not.”

“I’d love that as well,” Frank said, a smile spreading across his face.

“I’ll put in a good word for you with Ranjit,” Matthew promised. “I know you’d be a good teacher.”

“Thank you, Matthew,” Frank said. They looked at each other for a moment and Frank wondered if they were going to kiss, but then Matthew nodded instead.

“See you soon,” he said, as he turned away.

“See you soon,” Frank echoed, his hand clumsily in the air as he waved at Matthew, before he turned too and left the school.