Chapter Text
When the alarm rang on Buck’s first day back at school, the first thing he heard was Tommy’s grunt. The second thing he felt was his arms tightening around his waist and the man’s lips pressing between his shoulder blades.
“Good morning, my fiancé.”
Buck let out a heartfelt laugh, the previous night immediately flashing behind his eyelids and making him shiver. He couldn't believe he and Tommy were engaged.
Engaged.
Engaged, in the sense that they were going to start building a family together, that they were going to start planning their wedding and they were going to be happy. In the sense that Tommy had accepted his proposal and now they were each other's. In the sense that last night, as Tommy had worshipped his body and made him feel like the most desired man in the world, Buck had known that this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
It didn't matter that Tommy didn't want kids or that he didn't exactly get along with the rest of Buck's family, because they would be each other's little nuclear family. And eventually, Maddie would learn to live with Tommy and they could have Christmas as a family and Buck could play with his nieces and nephews and he would feel complete and content.
He turned in the arms of the man he loved and smiled.
“Good morning.” He leaned in to kiss him and it was just then that Tommy’s phone alarm went off.
Buck felt Tommy smile against his lips before pulling away. “We’ll have to change our alarms when we start living together.” Tommy stretched and cast a lazy glance in Buck’s direction. “You’re an early riser.”
“That’s a five-minute difference, sleepyhead.” Buck rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was one of fondness. “I call dibs on the shower.” He stood up and hissed a little as pain spread through his hip.
Tommy was immediately at his side, one hand gently resting on his hip.
“You okay?” He frowned and Buck nodded. Tommy’s gaze quickly shifted to something warmer, which made Buck’s breathing quicken a little. “Was I too rough with you last night?”
“You were perfect.” He wrapped his arms around Tommy’s broad shoulders and gave him a quick peck before groaning and letting his head fall into the crook of Tommy’s neck and shoulder. “We have to get ready, my apartment is further from school than yours and I teach the first class.”
“I love you for changing schools for me.”
Buck's chest swelled with pride as his insides dissolved into pudding. He loved hearing those three words in Tommy's tone of voice, loved hearing how much his boyfriend, no, fiancé, loved him .
He smiled as he pulled away and gave him another peck, unable to hold back. “I love you. But changing jobs means we need to start getting ready soon so we can get there on time. And I need a shower.”
A shiver ran through Buck’s body when he felt the way some of the hairs on his thigh were stuck together and he grimaced. He should have showered before he and Tommy went to sleep, but he was so tired and satisfied and full.
“We can save on the water.” Tommy suggested suggestively and Buck threw his head back in laughter.
“Nothing of that, Tommy.” He pulled away from the man with a superhuman effort and walked to the bathroom to the delightful sound of his fiancé’s laughter. “Besides, I want to look perfect today.”
“I know you’re going to rock the class today, but… you don’t have to try so hard; you know? At the end of the day, it’s just literature. Just teach the basics and you’re done.”
Buck already had the bathroom door closed, but the reflection in the mirror showed his slightly furrowed brow. He shook his head to shake off the feeling and shrugged, he knew Tommy hadn't meant to say exactly that and had just expressed himself poorly.
On the way to his new job, Buck passed by the old school he worked at and only didn't stop out of habit because Tommy noticed and put his hand on his leg, offering a smile when Buck blushed.
The teachers' lounge was a cozy environment, with light beige walls that had certainly been chosen to not draw the teachers' attention while they were busy with some work. On the left side there was a huge board with reminders of test dates, even though it was the first day of school. There were also drawings of some students, messages from parents and other teachers, meeting dates and deadlines. Everything was stuck to the board with colorful pins that made a small smile appear on Buck's face.
Next to the window was a table with coffee, tea, a few bottles of water and some cookies for the teachers to eat between classes or during the break. The light wooden floor gave the whole room an air of calm.
In the corner of the room, there were two sofas that seemed perfect for resting between one tiring class and another. In the center, a large and spacious table with seats for all the teachers. And finally, a bookshelf full of books, but Buck had insisted on occupying the last available shelf with the books he intended to work on in class that year. Not before asking Bobby, the school principal, if it was okay if he did so.
He dropped his heavy backpack on one of the chairs and carried the box of books to the bookshelf. On the shelf he occupied, among the classics, Buck placed a bookmark with the phrase ' Read to Live, Live to Read ,' a present Tommy had given him for his last birthday. He smiled as he remembered the day and hoped the students shared his enthusiasm for literature.
Tommy had gone straight to the gym, because even though he wouldn't be teaching the first class that day, he wanted to prepare for the classes and work out as well. He had put the second book on the shelf when a few people came into the room.
He immediately recognized some of them. Bobby, the principal, was smiling and had a calm expression on his face. Hen, the physics and math teacher, was telling him about something that had happened over the holidays between her and her wife. And... well.
“Buck!” Chimney, the science teacher and Buck’s brother-in-law, smiled when he saw him there. He stood up to accept the man’s hug and smiled at the rest of them. “Guys, this is Buck, he’s taking over the elementary literature class.”
“Chim has talked a lot about you.” Hen greeted him with a kind smile, and Buck knew her from a few events at Maddie and Chim’s house. “Welcome to the team.”
Bobby offered his hand in a firm but friendly shake. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the room.”
“I didn’t. Tommy helped me before he went to the gym.” He smiled.
“Perfect.” He turned to the other people. “This is Ana, the high school literature teacher. Ravi, the geography and history teacher. And I don’t have to introduce you to Chimney and Hen.”
“Hi.” He waved at the man with the striking eyebrows and the woman with the curly hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall. “I’m Evan, but everyone calls me Buck.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ravi smiled and went straight to the table with food in the corner of the room.
“You’re the one who took over my classes, then.” Ana said and Buck swallowed, not knowing if that sentence came as an affront or just information. He nodded and the woman smiled. “If you have any questions about any student, I am available to help you.”
He sighed in relief.
“Thanks.”
He was nervous. Five minutes before class was supposed to start, the rain started to fall heavily and Buck decided that he would go to the classroom a few minutes before the bell rang to greet the students. The first class would be for the 8th Grade and, from what Anna had said, it was a class of eleven students.
Okay, he had been in a classroom with twenty-three students before, he could handle eleven.
Buck arranged his materials on the table at the front of the room and began writing on the board. He smiled at the words of his favorite poem.
"I exist as I am, that is enough."
– Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)
He sat down in his chair and waited. A few students began to arrive, and they all gave him curious but kind looks. When the time for class to start came, Buck did a quick count of the teenagers and realized that one was missing. He nodded slightly to himself and quickly glanced at his own phone on the table. A smile spread across his face when he saw Tommy's message wishing him luck in his first class, but he didn't have time to reply to it at that moment, so he got up to close the door.
“Um, Mr. Buckley? I saw Chris when I was coming in, he should be almost here.”
Buck turned to Sophia, a dark-skinned child with hair tied back with a series of colorful elastic bands. He immediately remembered the conversation he’d had with Bobby when he’d first been hired about a special needs child in that class. Christopher. Buck wasn’t sure what the boy’s last name was.
“Oh, we can wait for him then.”
He replied with a smile, and as soon as he finished speaking, he heard footsteps approaching. Only they didn't sound like a child's footsteps, so Buck frowned and peeked out of the room. Well. A man was approaching with a boy on his back, on a piggyback, a boy who smiled broadly and clung to his clothes as if he was afraid of being knocked over.
“Sorry, sorry.” The man said as he reached Buck’s door and set Christopher down. The boy looked up at Buck and frowned. The gesture made the air catch a little in the channel between his lung and nose. “We were running late, and it took me a while to convince him to let me carry him.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.” Christopher grumbled and Buck smiled, but immediately sobered when the boy gave him a suspicious look. “Where’s Mrs. Flores?”
“Christopher.” The man, who Buck assumed was the boy’s father, caught his eye in a clear tone of reprimand. However, he still crouched down to be eye level with him. “We talked about this, buddy. Mrs. Flores is only taking over the high school classes this year. Be nice.”
“Sorry. I forgot.” He gave Buck a slightly less suspicious look, and Buck smiled.
“It’s okay. I’m Buck.” He was rewarded with a kind smile. “Want to come in? We were just about to start.”
Chris nodded and walked past him to sit at their usual table. Buck turned to the man with the same smile on his face and found his brown eyes fixed on Christopher in an almost mortified way.
“Sorry again for his tardiness.” The man held out a hand and Buck shook it. “I’m Eddie, his father. I promise being late won’t become a habit.”
“It’s okay, Eddie.” He chuckled, and just because the man looked completely devastated about leaving his son there, Buck offered words of comfort. “He’s in good hands, I promise I won’t hold a grudge against him for being late. I needed the extra minutes to get ready anyway.”
When Eddie gave a small chuckle, Buck felt the man breathe again.
“In that case, you’re welcome.” He pointed over his shoulder toward the exit. “I should get going. Sorry again for being late.”
Buck waved, and when the man walked away, he closed the door and turned to the class. Eleven pairs of eyes were focused on him.
Christopher was still arranging his school supplies on his desk, which was at the front of the room. Sophia, who sat next to him, had her supplies ready and Buck could see that she had already written the sentence he had written on the board in her notebook in beautiful cursive writing. Denny and Harry, Hen and Bobby's sons respectively, were on either side of Chris and Sophia and neither of them had picked up their notebooks yet. Maya, Elijah, Amara and Jackson were in the second row, all with their notebooks on their desks, but none of them had written the sentence yet. Elijah and Amara were talking quietly to each other, but Buck didn't hear what they were saying. In the third and last row, Ivy, Aidan and Zara had moved their desks a little closer together and Buck remembered that they were twins. Cute.
“Okay.” He clapped his hands together once to get the students’ attention and smiled. “My name is Evan Buckley, but you can call me Buck. I wanted to get to know each of you a little bit, but I’m a bit against the usual introductions, so I want to know your name, your favorite book, and if you were a fruit, what would you be?” The students looked at him like he was crazy. He ignored the fact that he already knew all of the students’ names because he had always been very good at connecting names to faces and he had been given access to all of the student’s files when he was hired and minutes before, in the teachers’ room. “Shall we start with you?”
“Sophia.” She said proudly and Buck smiled even wider. “My favorite book is The Little Prince and I would be a watermelon.”
He saw when the girl's eyes lit up and decided he liked her.
“Okay, Sophia. Thanks for sharing with us.” He turned to Christopher. “What about you?”
“Christopher.” He said softly, much quieter than he had spoken to him and his father at the door to the living room. “My favorite book is Wonder and I would be a grape.”
“Denny, Percy Jackson, strawberry .”
“Harry, Percy Jackson, banana.”
“Maya, The Fault in Our Stars, strawberry.”
“Elijah, I’m not much of a reader, guava.”
“Amara, I’m not much of a reader, banana.”
“Jackson, Hunger Games, apple.”
“Ivy, Hobbit, orange.”
“Aidan, Lord of the Rings, orange.”
“Zara, Pride and Prejudice, orange.”
By the end of the activity, the students seemed to have broken the ice for him, and Buck was pleased with the responses, even from those who didn't like reading. He hoped that by the end of the school year, he would be able to not only change the kids' minds about reading, but also spark some interest.
“Okay, um.” He sighed and smiled. “Well, on the board you see a verse from—”
“Mr. Buckley?” Christopher called softly and Buck looked at him.
“Yes, Christopher?” He didn’t say anything about the boy not calling him Buck. It wasn’t a problem really. Even if deep down, Buck had a little trouble seeing himself as Buckley.
“And you?” Buck frowned. “Your favorite book and fruit that would be.”
“Oh.” Buck smiled widely. “Well, I can’t really pick just one. I like a lot of books, from a lot of different genres. I’ve always had a hard time with some types of fantasy, but I was obsessed with Percy Jackson and Harry Potter for a few years.” He shrugged and smiled when he saw a few of the students’ faces light up. Specifically, Denny and Harry. “But I tend to read more romance novels. And if I were a fruit, I’d be a peach.”
“Why?” Sophia asked.
“Because they’re soft.” He shrugged, and the girl accepted his answer as final. He looked at Christopher to see if he shared the same sentiment, but the boy just looked at him curiously. “Well, I chose this line from Song of Myself because it’s my favorite poem. Has anyone ever felt like they had to be different to be accepted?”
Buck looked around. He hadn’t expected the students to start interacting with him in his first class, but complete silence after a question was always a challenge for him in class. So he controlled himself and counted to ten in his head.
However, as he opened his mouth to continue, Elijah raised his hand.
“Go ahead, Elijah.”
“Sometimes I wish I was good at sports like my older brother.”
Buck nodded and looked around. Amara and Christopher were both with their eyes glued to their desks, as if making eye contact with Buck would mean they would have to say something. Which Buck would never do. This was a topic that had to come up spontaneously from each of them.
“What are you good at?”
“Math. And I like computers.” Elijah shrugged and Buck smiled.
“That’s amazing, I’m terrible at math.” The boy looked at him in disbelief and Buck laughed. “No, seriously. The whole school was a tough time for me. Today, we’re going to talk about who we are, the way we are, and why that’s enough. Literature is a window into ourselves and the world. Writers like Walt Whitman invite us to think about who we are and what it means to exist. When he writes, ‘I exist as I am, that’s enough.’, he is not just talking about himself, but about all of us. Each of you here today has something unique, something important, that deserves to be celebrated. And that is what literature does: it reminds us of our humanity, of our individuality, but also of how we are connected.”
Buck paused to observe the reactions. Some students were attentive, others seemed thoughtful. He continued:
“When we read a poem, a short story or a novel, we are not just listening to a story. We are exploring emotions, ideas and experiences that can transform us. Literature gives us words for things we feel but don’t know how to express. It allows us to say: ‘I exist, and that is enough.’ So the question I ask you is: how do you exist? How do you see yourself in the world? Let’s discover this together, you can do it in the form of text, drawing, whatever you prefer, but I want this to be the first page of your notebook in my subject. You can start.”
The class was silent for a moment, but Buck could see curiosity growing in some of the students’ eyes. He knew he had planted a seed—and that, with luck, Whitman’s words would continue to resonate far beyond the lesson. After a few seconds, he watched closely as the students began the activity. Buck returned to his seat, opened his notebook, and wrote.
Lesson 01: I exist as I am.
When he looked up, his eyes fell on Christopher, who seemed to be having trouble holding his pencil. He looked hesitant and frustrated, so Buck stood up and approached cautiously, not wanting to draw the attention of the other students to him. He crouched down beside Christopher’s desk and, in a calm and low voice, asked:
“Want me to help you write?” Christopher frowned at him slightly, and Buck shrugged. “Your brain, your words, my hands.”
The boy seemed reluctant, but nodded after a few seconds. Buck couldn't tell if it was out of resistance or shyness, but at that moment it didn't matter, so he shifted into a slightly more comfortable position without invading Christopher's space, picked up the notebook and pencil the boy had been using before, and looked at him expectantly.
“I’m, um. I’m curious. And I like being curious. I like learning, even if...” His voice faded on the wind and Buck looked up. He had written exactly what the boy had said, and Christopher stared at the words as if trying to find himself there. And Buck bided his time. “Even if it’s hard sometimes, even if I understand it’s going to be hard.”
Buck wrote down exactly what Christopher said, noticing the pride that appeared in the boy's eyes as he saw the words take shape.
“I think it’s amazing that you’re brave enough to admit that, Christopher.” He said honestly. “It takes a lot of courage to admit that you’re struggling with something.”
“Like you with math.”
Buck smiled and swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. He took a deep breath and nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Nice.”
Twenty minutes later, when the bell signaling the end of class rang, Buck felt much lighter and less anxious, apparently the students had liked him and the class was just fine.
“Today, you have begun to explore something very special: what it means to be who you are. Each of you has written or drawn something unique, something no one else could do. That is the magic of existing as you are. And I hope that throughout the year, we can discover more ways to celebrate that together.”
He thanked the students for their attention before they left the room, and when Christopher approached to walk past him and leave the room, he couldn't help himself and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder to get his attention.
“Christopher. You did a great job today.” He gave an encouraging smile.
“You too.” The boy muttered before leaving, but Buck could see him smiling as he walked away alongside Sophia to their next class.