Chapter Text
Chris had never wanted to move to Britain. He hated it here; he hated the weather, the university, the new house. He missed Australia, their sunny weather, young people casually hanging out on beaches after school in nothing but swimsuits, the freedom of it all. He knew that there hadn’t been much of choice and he wasn’t angry at his parents because of it, in fact he had nearly stayed behind in Australia but his father had insisted him and his elder had come too. Luke had actually been quite eager to live in England, Chris not so much...
He turned in his bed, face half buried by the pillow and looked up his clock. It was the first day of university and he'd woken up before his alarm. It must have been nerves, new people; new everything. It made Chris feel nauseous. Knowing he wouldn’t manage to get back to sleep he groggily pushed himself out of bed and went to take a shower.
Chris's mother was cooking as he reached the kitchen, the sweet smell of bacon and eggs filling the room; she turned them over, the fat sizzling with a quiet hiss. "You're up early dear," she smiled, "not quite finished breakfast yet."
"That's fine." He muttered and sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, tossing his rucksack on the floor. "I'm not in hurry or anything."
"How was your induction day?" She asked as she decanted the food onto plates, "you like your course?"
"Great," Chris rolled the glass on the desk. "New people, new school...new everything." He said sarcastically, then sighed and turned to his mom. "It's university... I don't really have to be going to every lecture. If I found someone to lent me their notes..."
"Dear," his mother turned and gave him a stern look. "You won't learn properly if you don't go to lectures, I'm sure you'll make new friends soon enough..."
"He can never make new friends." Liam's grinning face appeared in the door. "It was a miracle he had some back at home."
Chris glared at him instead of saying something back. He was angry enough to start a fight with his younger brother, but didn't want to; at least not in front of their mom. Liam had been teasing him constantly though he himself didn’t seemed to be remotely phased about moving to a new school. In truth, Chris just envied him; he wanted that confidence.
"Liam, don't be mean," their mother sighed and placed too heavily laden plates on the table. "University is far scarier than school, you wait and see what it's like for you."
The boy just rolled his eyes so his mother couldn't see it and sat down next to his older brother, taking huge mouthfuls of food. His plate was empty in moments.
"Luke's still asleep?" Chris asked.
"He doesn't need to wake up this soon." She nodded. Luke had gotten a new job but he clearly wasn’t going until the afternoon, it was something to do with catering.
How fair, Chris thought, eyeing his plate as if the bacon had personally offended him. It felt like he’d gotten the worse outcome out of everyone from this move and that alone made him feel resentful. He wasn't even hungry, so he quickly ate a bit of everything, took his rucksack and went to the fridge to take some water with him. The nerves were clearly getting to him more than he’d anticipated.
"It's your first lecture today isn't it?" His mother tried a smile, "well I hope you at least like your Professor."
Chris just smirked bitterly. "Sure...See you guys later." He waved at them shortly and headed out.
"Don't forget your umbrella!"
Yep. He definitely hates it here.
His mother handed it to him and squeezed his shoulder, "it'll get better, just give it a chance here."
She felt guilty, Chris could tell. It was her losing her job that caused their father to take the new job here in England, he knew that she blamed herself. He forced a smile and his mother’s expression seemed to soften at that.
"You never know, you might come to enjoy it."
*
The university was a large modern-style building, all glass and twisting corridors, very confusing and Chris got immediately lost. He had a map, but somehow, he couldn't find the auditorium where his first lecture of English literature was taking place. He wondered around for a while, feeling utterly lost and useless.
"Looking for something?" An American accent sounded behind him and Chris turned to see a smaller guy with dark hair and eyes lined by black lashes. He smirked up at Chris, raising his brows to encourage him in saying something.
"Eh, well yes, actually, don't you know where English literature courses are?"
"I might do," The boy smiled, half smirking; He pushed his glasses up his nose before holding out a hand. "Robert, you are?"
"Chris."
"Aussie, right?" Robert grinned. "Not many of you guys here."
Chris chuckled and ran a hand through his fair hair. "Well I've got two brothers, so that could up the statistics."
Robert chuckled in turn, the sound hearty, "Two brothers? Sounds fun," he grinned. "English then? No offence, you don't look the type."
Chris gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah...I've heard that before. Listen, mate, could you show me the way? I don't t want to be late."
"Of course!" Robert nodded, his smile warm. "You know who you're professor is yet?"
"The only person I’ve gotten to know here at all is you." The Australian admitted.
"Ah, well happy to be of company," he assured him and patted his arm, "I know a few of the English Professors by face and name, hopefully you'll get Hiddleston," he winked and ushered him along, pausing in front of an old fashioned style building; all pale stone and arches. "Here we are, the arts section. You might see Evans in here, his first name is Chris too," he said excitedly. "I think you'd get along."
"Thanks mate." Chris smiled lightly. He looked up at a big clock above the door arc, noting that he was on time for him class. "Will hopefully see you around." He nodded and quickly rushed inside.
*
Tom Hiddleston was never late to any one of his lectures, not once and yet here he was rushing across campus; work clutched against his chest as he ran. He reached the art block, just on time; a little exhausted and no doubt much disheveled. It was all the work to do with the new production the university were putting on, he'd gotten to sleep so late last night organizing the script that...well he'd only woken up about half an hour ago.
He rushed into his lecture theatre and managed to knock into someone on the way in; he dropped his own folders, biting back a groan. "My gosh I'm so sorry," he shook his head and began to pick them up. "I should look where I'm going, sorry, are you hurt?"
The young blond in front of him stumbled a little, but otherwise he seemed unfazed. "That's okay." He said only and crouched down to help him with the papers. "At least we're both on time."
Tom chuckled lightly, "Only just, you're taking this course?" He tilted his head to the lecture theatre.
"Eh, yeah." The other followed his gaze, and then looked back at him with a small smile. "Should get going, don't wanna miss two hours of talking." He said, lifting his rucksack onto his shoulder.
"Well I hope you enjoy it," Tom stood straight, all books in hand once more. "Your name?"
"Chris." The blond introduced himself and added "Hemsworth," with a little hesitation.
"Well Chris, I'm Professor Hiddleston," Tom nodded and smiled brightly, "Welcome to English," then he headed in, holding the door open for the other as he went.
Chris let out silent whine over his own stupidity and followed the older man inside. The room was already full of other students, sitting at their desks or just wandering around, but as Tom walked in, they all went to their seats and so did Chris, taking the first free spot he could find, next to some blonde girl in the third row.
Tom put his books and work down and went about turning on the computer so he could use the projector, sighing in relief when it seemed to be behaving this morning. As the screen turned on and so did the projector the class seemed to quieten down somewhat.
"Okay class," his smile was tired but enthusiastic. "We're going to be studying the Tempest..."
Chris had no idea what he was talking about and looked around the class, feeling stupid when he saw that everyone else was already taking down notes in their notebooks. Chris pulled out his own pad and began to take notes a little unsurely, he suspected that very may well end up failing this course...
"...so for your first assignment I want you to write a start to your own story, something with Shakespearian setting; similar era and development," Tom said, "just the first few thousand words or so. Be creative! I want you to theme it around revenge, and don't feel like you have to write like Shakespeare; I don't expect that of any of you yet."
The class chuckled in unison at that, and they all pulled out blank paper.
Chris almost winced when the girl next to him raised her hand and thought about dragging it back down to avert professor's attention. He'd gotten enough of it today already.
"Mr. Hiddleston, is this our work for the whole lesson today?" She asked, eyes unnaturally wide with expectation.
"Yes, a slow start," he nodded, "nothing too strenuous. If you're unsure about anything please, come to me, I want this assignment finished by the lecture on Wednesday. You can stay behind and work in the theatre if you like, or leave now and do it in your own time; all that matters is that it's done."
She nodded, immediately taking her pen and wrote her name to the corner of the page neatly.
Chris felt awkward. The fact that he seemed to be, and probably was, the only one in the room who’d never studied Shakespeare at this level, it was going to be a challenge for sure. Chris was familiar with it, especially Romeo and Juliet from when he’d studied it a few years back but this felt like a slight shock to the system. Over the half of the things Hiddleston said were just going over his head, it didn’t help also that his professor’s appearance was rather distracting...
Writing in his style but with a Shakespearian-esc theme...Chris sighed, glaring at the empty page in front of him and drummed the pen against his desk; his mind was blank.
Tom disappeared at one point and returned with an espresso coffee in the hand, without he was in danger of falling asleep.
A few students left to supposedly do it in their own time or at least hopefully but most stayed, no doubt grateful for a quiet place to work.
Tom bit back a sigh as he read an angry email for Kenneth about changes to the Arts department fund, Benedict would have lots to say about this at lunch time. He glanced back at the class, the blonde haired girl...what was it now? Scarlett? He'd seen her briefly during the induction. She looked like she was doing fine, the rest working at a leisurely pace but a few seemed to be struggling; he hoped that this first assignment wasn't too much at once...
Puckering his lips, Chris crossed out his short, poor attempt of a story about husband killing his wife and looked up for an inspiration. He watched his professor for a while, smirking subtly as he frowned at the monitor of the class computer.
He should at least try to write something if he wanted to stay on this university for at least a year. He had to, if nothing else than to see Liam's disappointed face when Chris came back home with some good news...He grinned at the thought and put his pen to the page again, a story of Italian trader who's thinking of a plan how to retaliate against his brother already developing in his head.
During the next hour some more students left, a few of them putting their works on Tom's desk or simply closing the door behind them without a word.
Chris was doing fine, sort of, until he looked up to see how little of them remained still writing and got nervous, the ideas he’d mentally planned out slipping from his mind as he felt himself begin to panic. Mr. Hiddleston was looking around the class and Chris quickly turned his gaze to the paper again. He counted the words and packed his things, then stood up and headed out, placing the work on the professor's desk. "I don't know what else to write." He apologized quietly, so he wouldn't disturb the others.
"That's fine, this is plenty," the Professor smiled encouragingly, "have a good day Chris."
"Thanks. Goodbye." Chris nodded and gave him a short smile, then walked out of the door.
Robert was outside chatting with a very tall guy, short dark hair and built up; a huge art folder under one arm. "Hey Blondie!" He dragged his supposed friend over, "this is the other Chris I was talking about."
Chris raised his brows at the nickname, but despite that just smiled and held out his hand to shake the other's.
"Evans," the other Chris shook his hand firmly with a warm smile. "You take...English? Right?"
"Yeah, just finished my first lesson." Chris said and turned to Robert. "Got Hiddleston by the way." He smirked, intentionally leaving out the bit about bumping into him the first second.
"Oh you lucky thing," Robert smiled cheekily.
"They're professors," Evans reminded him.
"I know, I know...come on, let's go get something to eat."
"So how long have you been studying here?" Chris asked, following them out of the building and over small atrium.
"Me, two years," Robert said, "and Evans..."
"Just one," the other Chris finished, his smile but friendly; he hoisted up his art folder to get a better grip.
"Did you just move here?" Robert asked.
"My dad got a job here so we had to." Chris shrugged.
"Wow, you sound so thrilled about it." Robert smirked at him. "Don't worry, I get it. This isn't exactly the US. Or Australia or...wherever..."
"Least Brighton has beach," Evans said cheerily, "can be good for surfing too."
"That's only good if you can surf," Robert pointed out.
"Just because you can't to save your life Downey."
"You can surf?" Chris turned to Evans, his mood visibly improved.
They walked into another building and immediately got lost in the crowd, students teeming around everywhere; Chris had never realized how big the university was until he saw so many people in the canteen. However, he was soon brought out of his thoughts as he was dragged into to the queue.
"Oh, whatever you do don't touch the coleslaw," Robert whispered without explanation and then went forward as his meal was served; the staff behind the counters looking rather intimidating with their flat expressions.
Once he’d taken his food Robert announced, "I'll go get us a table;" and then began to weave through the crowd with ease.
"About the surfing," Evans continued, waiting for his meal to be served. "I've tried it, but I'm not so good."
"We can try it sometime?" Chris suggested. It was probably a strange request due to the fact that they had only just met, but he was simply glad for someone to talk with; to talk with someone about something he associated with home. "Could show you some tricks."
"Sure," Evans nodded, "could be fun, though we'll have to go out at about five in the morning; waves are best then or at least that's from my experience."
Robert rolled his eyes as he caught their conversation as they sat down, "five in the morning? Really? Are you guys sure you're students?"
"We're not forcing you to come..."
"I know, I know," Robert smirked subtly. "But we do have to go out some time, like out out. We haven’t yet this year."
"So where are you from Chris?" Evans asked and poured them all a glass of coke he'd bought. "Sidney?"
"Melbourne." Chris shook his head. "The other big city."
"I'm guessing it's nice there?" Robert said, "Sunny and all that."
"Yes." Chris nodded. "All that."
Perhaps England wasn’t going to be quite as bad as he thought.