There was a post on tumblr that I saw a while back, and it had a list of some AU ideas on it, and one of them was "High School Teacher" and I just kind of... Yeah. I was just bored and really really tired and this... I don't actually know what this is, but enjoy it anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or anything mentioned here that's possible to own in any sort of way.

Title:
Around The Halls

*.*.*.*.*

Merlin loved teaching—really, he did. He loved his students—except for that idiot Anthony in third period, but he still cared about him great deal, as well, in his own way—he loved the subject—history, of course—he loved molding their minds, making them engage in history and the world around them in ways they never thought they'd do before. He loved his peers, fellow teachers, he loved the school, Camelot High, the principal, Lance Du Lac, his amazing parking spot—he loved being a teacher period.

What he did not love, most days, was the stupid prat in the next classroom over who taught maths and thought the sun shone out of his ass. He had sunkissed hair, sure, sky blue eyes, was built like a God and probably could have been a model or actor, if he had been so inclined. But he was arrogant and stubborn and Merlin understood instantly why he enjoyed maths so much—the numbers, after all, were just as stubborn and annoying as he was.

The kids all loved him, however, the other teachers all loved him, and practically worshiped the ground he walked on, as though his ego really needed such treatment.

His name was Arthur Pendragon, and he was the bane of Merlin's very existence.

Arthur, in turn, felt very similarly about Merlin. He hated Merlin just as equally as Merlin hated him, and neither of them did a very good job of trying to hide it. They often had pissing contests that the other administrators were, more often than not, caught in the middle of, that they did try to keep their students out of. God only knew they didn't need another distraction, what with roughly half the student body in love with Arthur and the other half in love with Merlin—attractive teachers with foreign accents, it seemed, were very popular in the public school system in the States. It was probably popular back in London as well, Merlin's accent was just too local there to make much of a difference.

Merlin winding up teaching in the States wasn't much of a surprise to anyone who knew him well. He had taken a trip there once as a child with his family—specifically, to Chicago, but he hadn't wound up there. No, he was teaching, instead, in a city on the West Coast, as far away from home as he could seem to manage, unfortunately—and had fallen in love. He'd vowed to return and make his life there once he was older and had an idea of what he wanted to do with his life, and, at the age of 25, he had finally succeeded in coming over for good. Lucky for him, an old friend of his had had similar ambitions and had established himself a few years previous in the United States and, upon finding out that Merlin was looking for a job, offered to hire him as his new history teacher.

Merlin had been grateful, and ecstatic.

Unfortunately, his bliss had been cut short on his first day at the new school when he was introduced to another new teacher who would also be starting there—and oh, wasn't it such a coincidence that they were both from London? Hahaha, it was sure to help them both feel more at home, help them both adjust, to meet and become fast friends.

Or at least, Merlin had been under such an impression, walking down the hall with Lance, who, while he could relate to his plight and homesickness just fine, thought it'd be better if he went through it at the same time with someone else.

But then he actually met Arthur, the guy he was supposed to become fast friends with, and had taken an instant disliking to the stupid, arrogant prat. And Arthur felt the exact same way, refusing to do more than occasionally grunt or hurl insults in his general direction when they passed in the halls their first weeks at the school.

That had been two years ago, and they still hated each other with a special sort of passion that was only brushed aside at official faculty gatherings, and over a pint or two when they'd both had an extremely long week full of too many papers to grade and too many teenagers pressing their nerves.

But still, Merlin often reflected, he wasn't such a bad guy, once you got past all the arrogance, stubbornness, pratliness, and dollopheadiedness. He was a good teacher, at least, his students often spoke highly of him; he was a good person, wanted all his kids to succeed, wanted everyone to receive the education they deserved.

Even if Merlin did hate his attractive guts most of the time, he had to admit that he wasn't always such a bad guy.

*.*.*.*.*

"Now, technically," Merlin admitted with a lithe little smile and half shake of his head as he leaned back against his maple desk, the chalkboard behind him filled with scribbles that detailed events that many insisted had never happened in the first place, but that Merlin had always felt a strong connection to and made sure to teach for a few weeks every school year, anyway. Through strategic planning of the curriculum, he was able to manage it whilst also finishing all the state mandated material over the course of the year, something he was always quite proud of. "This isn't actually part of the state's plan for you lot for the year, but, it's interesting enough that I thought you would all benefit from learning about it anyway. Even if it is just legend." He said with a flourish of his hand, still smiling.

Peering back at him were twenty-eight pairs of eyes, some eager, some bored, some distracted, some infatuated, one just on the verge of sleep—Anthony, Merlin thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes—and he knew he wouldn't be given any lip, that there would be no resistance in learning about this. The legends of King Arthur and his Court Sorcerer Merlin captivated everyone, after all, especially when two of their very teachers shared the same names as the figures.

"Merlin!" An all too familiar and, quite frankly, sometimes annoying, voice rang out through the mid-morning air, interrupting Merlin's momentum and cutting him off mid-thought.

Damn it all! He had a whole thing worked out, a speech of sorts, that went with introducing the kids to the subject, to the legends. He had rehearsed it, damnit! All night.

With a frown, he turned his head ever so slightly to the door that was swung open, a certain Arthur Pendragon stalking across the classroom, his jeans creased, polo tucked in, sneakers scuffed slightly—he must have gotten dressed in a hurry, because Arthur Pendragon did not wear polo shirts and sneakers to school—until he came to stand just in front of Merlin, eyes narrowed in menace and anger.

Merlin let out a sigh, smirked slightly at the look on Arthur's face. Ah, he must have just come from the teacher's lounge, then.

"Arthur, I'm in the middle of teaching a class, why don't you—"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Emrys?" Arthur interrupted, eyes narrowed, steam coming out of his ears.

"You're the one making a scene in front of my students, Pendragon." Merlin rolled his eyes, arms crossing across his chest.

Arthur took half a step back, addressed the class with a half nod of his head before turning back to Merlin with the same anger and intent of bodily harm written on his face.

"I know it was you, Merlin." He said, his tone calmer this time, though still laced with anger and accusation.

"Know what was me?" Merlin asked, tilting his head innocently, how he hadn't already burst out laughing was beyond him, but, he had to remind himself, he needed to keep it together, needed to keep a straight face. Arthur might have suspected it was him, but he had no proof—no real proof. As long as Merlin didn't let on that it had been him, he would be fine.

"You know." He insisted simply.

"I'm afraid I don't. Have you gone off your head, Arthur? I know teaching can be stressful, but this is just—"

"Not another word, Emrys. I know it was you. I know. And I'm going to get you back—if it's the last thing I do, I swear to you, I will. Get. You. Back."

"Is that a threat…" Merlin lowered his voice, husky now with the teasing as he leaned into Arthur ever so slightly. "Or a promise."

"I hate you." Arthur grumbled, his cheeks tinted just so. Good. Making Arthur blush really was too hard, he rather liked having witnesses around when he could manage to do it. Even if those witnesses were just his students.

Merlin merely chuckled in response. "I know."

"This isn't over."

"I look forward to continuing it."

"You think you're cute."

"You think I'm cute." He retorted, and really, this was not an appropriate sort of conversation to be having in front of a class of Juniors, especially with Arthur, of all people, because one second they'd be arguing, and the next—oh, the next they'd be going at it like the horny teenagers watching their exchange with interest and amusement. Lucky for them, California was a liberal state...

"Clotppole."

"Dollophead."

"You're infuriating!"

"So are you."

"You—"

"Boys." A voice from the doorway cut in, semi-stern and amused all at once. Their attentions shot in the direction and they acknowledged Lance with slight nods of their heads. "What's going on? I could hear Arthur yelling all the way down the hall."

Merlin suppressed a laugh, smirking slightly as Arthur turned ever so slightly to give Lance his full attention. He smoothed down the collar of his shirt, cleared his throat.

"I was just talking with Merlin about something." He said simply.

Lance gave him a look of disbelief. "Really? Just talking?"

"Might have been some yelling, too." He shrugged.

"Couldn't wait until after class?"

"No." He hissed, cutting his eyes at Merlin as though suddenly remembering his whole reason for storming into the classroom uninvited in the first place. "It couldn't have."

"Right, well, just because you have a free period doesn't mean you get to disturb other classes, Arthur." Lance said pointedly, eyes sweeping over the students.

"Right, sorry, I was just leaving." Arthur said, probably not sorry in the least. He glared at Merlin once more, then turned around with a huff. "This isn't over, Emrys."

"Fully aware of that, Pendragon." Merlin grinned at his back. Then, once he was at the door, called out, "We still on for tonight?"

Arthur froze, shoulders set as though he was thinking about something for a moment. "Yeah—why the hell not? I'll pick up dinner if you'll get a movie."

"Sounds good." Merlin nodded. And then Arthur was out the door, closing it behind him this time.

With the silence of the room—him and Arthur really must have been entertaining if not one single teenager in the room had taken it upon themself to start chattering or texting or passing notes, at the very least—Merlin turned his attention back to Lance.

"What was that all about?" Lance finally asked.

"Oh, uhm, you know those flyers that were going around the staff room?"

"The ones with the pictures of—?"

"Yep."

"You did that?" Lance asked, seeming rather impressed at the thought.

"Of course—who else would have gotten such... compromising pictures of my boyfriend?" Merlin asked rhetorically, grinning madly. He'd been dying to boast about it ever since he'd dropped the stack of flyers off in the teacher's lounge earlier that morning, but, well, obviously he couldn't talk to Arthur about it, and Lance had been busy all morning and had only just stopped by his classroom. And it wasn't as though he could go into such intimate details in front of his students.

"And no," he added, looking to the students, especially the suddenly over-eager girls in the front rows. "You cannot see what we're talking about." He said offhandedly.

"Wow, he's really going to kill you this time, isn't he?" Lance asked, ignoring the disappointed moans and groans of more than half the class.

Merlin let out a long, breathy laugh. "Probably."

Lance laughed as well, and just shook his head. "You two, Merlin, are perfect together—did you know that?"

Merlin merely grinned, and bid him ado as he backed out of the classroom, promising to stop by and make sure Arthur wasn't planning something too... outrageous as payback.

"Now, where were we?" Merlin cleared his throat, leaning back against his desk once more as he refocused his attention on his class. He'd lost a good bit of time because Arthur couldn't wait a few hours to confront him, but it had been worth it just to have Arthur's scent lingering about in the room, all musky and crisp and Arthur that it was all he could do not to just spend the rest of class inhaling whatever remained of the scent.

"You were talking about how you're boning Mr. Pendragon?"

The class erupted in laughter and Merlin smiled tightly as well, making a mental note to call Anthony's mother after school and mention how his grades had been slipping as of late and perhaps it would be for the best for him to get some extra studying in at night and maybe even come in for some tutoring for an hour or two before school every week?

"Right, the legends of King Arthur and his Court Sorcerer Merlin..." He said instead, looking off in thought to recollect whatever remained of his planned speech from before. "Now, these legends have been told and retold, and retold many upon many times over the course of history..."

He went on for the rest of class, abridging whatever remained of his speech due to time constraints, and then passed out the print-outed copies of a handful of the legends he wanted them to read and be ready to discuss the following day.

By the end of the day, the entire school thought him and Arthur had as good as had sex in the middle of third-period history class; considering those rumors, coupled with the flyers Merlin had left lying about the teacher's lounge...

Well, it was a wonder Arthur agreed to speak to him ever again, let alone have dinner with him that very night.

*.*.*.*.*