I met you in the toilet (Larry One Shots - book 5)

anything you ask and more

From: http://archiveofourown.org/works/856586

~~~~~~

Rating: Mature

Warnings/tags: alternate universe

Word count: 19131

Summary: 

louis knows that he's in love the second harry begins speaking about the bolsheviks.

 (or, louis is a history teacher & harry is the fit curator that he desperately wants to mongol invade him, however many times niall tells him he's a psychopath.)

-

"why is india the exception?” louis asks his class, looking imploringly at the small group and smiling harmlessly. he remembers being told when he was a teachers’ aid that harmless smiles are the key for success. it opens up their cold, uncaring teenage hearts and makes them interested in you and therefore in the subject. louis has faith in harmless smiles.

his students stare back blankly at him. one of them is so obviously on her phone he isn’t even sure why she bothers.

he sighs. “clara, bring me your phone, please.”

her head snaps up, and he watches as she scrambles to hide it behind her bag. “i wasn’t even on my phone!”

“i’m sure you weren’t. bring it up, and then tell me why india is the exception.” he’s still smiling. not quite sure just how harmless it is at this point, if he’s being honest. "please don't be difficult, i really would rather not have to bring it to the headmistress' office."

she glares at him the entire way there, almost breaks his hand dropping her phone into the palm. louis smiles and thanks her.

"now," he says once she's back in her seat, "why was india the exception? i'll give you a clue - it was social and brought in by outsiders." that's two clues. he's such a great teacher.

clara is still glaring at him, and shrugs. "i don't know."

"you'd know if you completed the homework and read the assigned pages."

"well, why're you picking on me? no one else read it. ask someone else," she snaps.

louis still isn't sure why he's a teacher. he still isn't sure what he did majoring in fucking history, of all subjects. it's like all the hate his tenth year maths teacher spouted about humanities is coming true. no, he won't let it be. old man holley can suck his dick because he's being fucking useful, and educating younger minds for a brighter future with knowledge of the past.

he sounds like his tenth year history teacher. god. all his worst nightmares are coming true.

"i'm not picking on you, i'm assuming that you actually do the homework i give you instead of playing around and not putting in any effort for the class." he's speaking to the broader class by now, sweeps his hand across to emphasis this. yelling won't get him anywhere, louis knows this, but it's really so hard when an entire class is so insolent. he wants them to like history, because history is great and cool and brilliant and 

useful

, and he doesn't see how they don't understand this.

"well, mr tomlinson," a boy says, john, tapping his pencil against the desk, smirk on his face. "you know what they say about assuming."

louis snorts. "right, i haven't heard that one before." he sits down at his high stool in the front of the classroom, leans forward on his elbows and tells them, "if i don't find out why india was the exception in thirty seconds, i'm giving you all zeros in participation and weighing it at four hundred points."