Warnings: swearing, sexual themes (nothing filthy…yet)
You are a teacher at a school Mr Jelly is hired to perform at. Despite having a bad day, the cantankerous clown is able to lighten your mood.
hope you enjoy the first part to this fic. More to come soon!
You slam the door of your bosses office behind you and march out to the front of the school. You hadn’t been working at Moloch Road Primary School long before your personality clashed with the headteacher. This time, however, the headteacher’s berating was understandable: one of the mothers overheard you calling a student in your class a nobhead to one of your colleagues. Your boss had brought you in to his office as soon as he was informed by the parent and you were swiftly scolded. It is true though, he is a nobhead, even if he is only ten.
The fresh air cooled your burning skin as you walked out towards the carpark. It was a bitter, grey afternoon but you couldn’t be in that building for a moment longer. You plunged your hands into your pockets for warmth and fell upon a packet of fags. Huffing out some pent up anger, you headed towards the back of the carpark and away from prying eyes. The children were all in lessons but you couldn’t be too careful, not knowing how many chances you had left with the headteacher.
Fishing the packet from your pocket and placing a cigarette between your lips, you scanned your eyes for one last check. All clear. Sparking your lighter, you held the flame to your face; feeling the heat on your nose.
Before you could light your cigarette, your eyes fell upon an unfamiliar sight.
A hearse? A hearse. In a primary school car park. You had seen it all. Lighting your fag and taking a long-needed drag, you chuckle at the thought. You walk towards the car slowly, hoping that there was nobody in the front (or back for that matter). Your eyebrows furrowed as you took another drag, noticing the back was full of boxes. “What the…” you trailed off, in total confusion. You slowly headed around the side of the car, unblinking between drags of your cigarette and your footsteps crunching in the gravel.
“Keeps… Kids... Quiet.” Your face turned to a baffled grimace. Is this some sick joke or are you actually about to discover some weirdo ready to pounce on kids at home time? You stared some time longer trying to understand what this is and peered through the back window to the boxes, again.
“Can I help you?” A passive aggressive voice barked, knocking you back in silence. Your eyes widened in shock, searching for the voice. You looked through the open car window to a man in terrible clown makeup. How could you have missed him in the front seat? He spoke again, noticing how startled you were.
“I’m not a nonce if thats what you are thinking.” His eyes were judgemental.
“Oh no i would never, i’m sorry.” you stumbled your words in an overcompensating kindness. What, so just because he says he isn’t a weirdo, you just let it slide? You offer a smile athough your eyes were still wide.
He hangs his arm out of the window and taps the car door, “Don’t worry,” he starts, staring directly at you, “I know how bad the writing looks, but I’ve actually been hired to perform for the kids, some treat for them or something the head said, I don’t know…” he rambled slightly, obviously trying to ease the tension.
“Oh right!” You offered still very wary. You raised your cigarette to your lips out of awkwardness only to discover it had gone out. Picking your lighter from your pocket your relit your cigarette, avoiding eye contact but you could feel his eyes watching your every move.
“What’s your deal, then?” he spat accusingly, “I saw you coming out the door all moody, now you’ve come over here pestering me!”
“Of course I had to come over, to see what a hearse is doing parked outside of a school.” You spat back, colour returning to your face. “And I was pissed off because i’ve just been shouted at by my boss.”
“What for?” He asked genuinely.
“Oh, just calling one of my students a nobhead.”
“Well they are aren’t they. Can’t stand kids.” He offered a half laugh.
“What? But you’re a clown, isn’t it part of the job?”
“Sewage workers exist, do you think they like sifting through shit all day? Anyway can I have a fag, i’m dying.” He asked before you could laugh, he had a strange, stinging sense of humour.
As you went to grab your packet, he began to step out of the car. You stood back to give him room and offered the cigarette his way. He took it in his mouth and lit it.
“Is it a pirate party?” you pointed to his hook.
“No, i’ve only got one hand.” He cut back monotonously. You laugh loud at his wit and take another drag.
“Its not funny, i’ve only got one hand.” he pulled up his sleeve slightly revealing a bandage beneath his hook.
“God I am so sorry. I thought you were joking.” You reached out slightly, hands up in defence and crimson flaring on your cheeks. Luckily, he didn’t linger on the conversation.
“Well, now you’re here, you can show me where i’m meant to be heading.” You dropped your cigarette and stamped it out.
“I’m Mr Jelly, by the way,”
You raised your head to see him smiling, “Im, Y/N.” You returned the smile and began leading him back to the school.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Oh great Miss L/N, you brought Mr Jolly.” The receptionist beamed.
“No! Miss L/N has brought Mr Jelly. Me and that Bas- Idiot are not the same! I’ve come here to do this show so even if you don’t want me to go on because im not Mr Jolly, you still have to pay me!” He spoke through grated teeth. You didnt realise how loud his voice had boomed until he had finished. There was a few moments of silence before she answered.
“Y/N, show him to the hall.” The receptionist’s face had turned to a stone glare, her voice now soured. She waved her hand at the clown in a dismissive manner and looked back down at her work.
You led the way giggling, turning back to Mr Jelly to take him in properly. There was something strangely attractive about this man, whether it be the mystery of him or the way he raised his voice to the receptionist. But something about him made you feel giddy.
“So this is me then, is it?”
“Yep, your grand stage awaits.” You shifted your feet and looked up at him. His eyes were a piercing blue and his lips, beneath the face paint, were full and. No I am not thinking that, you thought to yourself. You realised how close you were stood to Mr Jelly now and you moved backwards.
“I best be off, I have a lesson to cover. Good luck with the show.” You replied quickly and dashed off down the corridor.
“Well bye then!” He called shaking his head in confusion.
∗ ∗ ∗
You hadn’t been able to concentrate on the lesson you were teaching to the year 4’s. They were uncontrollable in their boredom when you were attempting to teach maths; knowing that the younger years were watching a clown show. Giving up, you had been letting them play a series of maths games on the whiteboard whilst your mind wandered.
You didn’t understand why you had been thinking about Mr Jelly so much, its not like you even knew what he looked like under that makeup. Or even what he was really like- you had only spoken to him for a few minutes and now you had been thinking about him non stop.
You kicked yourself whilst thinking over scenarios in your head: what you should have said, what he should have said… what the both of you should have done. Now you were never going to see him again and would never know if there was anything to come.
You brought your mind back to the present as the kids screamed and laughed at the game they were playing.
“Quieter please guys we don’t want Mr Lock coming in he will make you do real work!” you hushed in your teaching voice. The children erupting in boos and whines like a pantomime, continuing with the game quieter.
You put your head in your hands fed up and ready for the day to be over. Only half an hour, and it would drag along painfully.
In a moment of realisation you raised your head from your hands, a grin splitting across your face. He’s still in the building why don’t I go and watch his show and catch him after? Gaining your composure you looked at your computer and feigned surprise, explaining to the teaching assistant you had a meeting and that she would have to watch them for the rest of the lesson.
Grabbing your coat and bag, you headed to your usual classroom, unlocking it and placing your things inside. You opened the drawer of your desk, searching through stickers and stationary for your mirror and looked over your appearance.
Squeezing your eyes shut you threw your head back. What am I doing, you thought but as soon as the thought passed you began touching up your makeup and headed towards the hall.
Sneaking in through one of the doors, you lingered at the back. You looked at your feet to gain composure. Noticing a rogue carrot by your shoe, you kicked it aside. You guessed the cleaners didn’t care much for the act we were blessed with.
“What’s your favourite animal?” Mr Jelly spoke in a strained jovial tone. He was leaned over to one of the children, sat cross-legged on the food splattered floor.
“Elephant? No, its not an elephant. Don’t LIE. What about a fish?” Mr Jelly began twisting a long balloon into the most simple shape.
“No! Elephant! I want an elephant!” The year 1 screamed.
“You can’t have an elephant!” Mr Jelly replied in an angry singsong tone, “Cos its too hard!” As he sang the last word, leant into the child’s face, the balloon popped from the pressure of his hook. The children screamed, a few that were closest to the explosion burst into tears.
“Brilliant!” He shot his body back in dispair, arms and head hanging back, “See what you’ve done now? Ruined it for everyone one.” He pointed his hooked hand towards the child. One of the teachers shot up from her chair and took centre stage- well, centre dinner hall.
“I think thats all Mr Jolly’s got time for today! How great was that! Now if we all head back to our classrooms,for the last 10 minutes of today, your teachers will show you how to make your own balloon animals!”
“Noooo!” the kids cried at the mention of balloons, their teachers ushering them out.
After the children and teachers had dispersed, you headed over to Mr Jelly who was packing his things. You could hear him mumbling angrily under his breath.
“Probably not the best time to ask for a balloon animal is it?”
He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, but replied as though he wasn’t phased.
“Unless its a dog or a snake or a fish; you can get to fuck.” He finally turned to face you, he appeared to be relieved to see you, his face was slightly drained from his obvious frustration but his eyes were now soft and kind.
“I could show you how to make one if you like,” he said gently, almost nervously. You couldn’t really believe that he had offered and replied almost too fast.
“Yes I would love that. I mean, the cleaners will be coming back in here soon to pretend to clean the floors, but you can show me in my classroom. Don’t worry- my students will have gone by the time we get there.”
He nods and you watch as he continues to pack up his things; when he is done, you lead the way to your classroom. Opening the door and turning the lights on, you let him through with his large bag that he drops on the floor. He slumps down in the chair at your desk. Arms rested on the sides comfortably and his legs apart. You push the dirty thoughts from your mind and walk to the other side of the desk.
∗ ∗ ∗
“No you are doing it all wrong! STOP STOP STOP” BANG another balloon popped between your fingers. You were now sat in your own chair and Mr Jelly was shifting from helping you twist the balloon to darting around the room in fury. You had been talking and laughing for the last twenty or so minutes, feeling totally relaxed with him, strangely, and becoming increasingly attracted to his wild character.
He laughed out maniacally, coming close to you. “Last try…” he stared deep into your eyes. stretching the balloon with his hand and hook, he blew it up and tied it with skill. He passed the balloon to you and instructed you the same he had done the last few times.
“Under…. yes, now twist there…No NO!” His hand grabbed yours before you could kill the balloon animal again. The touch, however innocent, sent shocks through your body and you could feel yourself begin to blush. Using his hand he guided yours to twist and pull the animal into a shape. Now sat on his knees, he watched his own hands as he created the animal slowly; trying to teach you but you watched him instead. His eyes were focussed and his tongue poked slightly out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. You could smell his aftershave (a cheap woody smell) mixed with cigarettes and a scent of lingering alcohol. You looked at how his hand worked so deftly in twisting the balloon: his fingers were wrapped around the back of your own hand, squeezing your skin as he moved it to where he wanted.
You exhaled and looked back to his face, noticing that he was no longer speaking. His own gaze had drifted to your face and your eyes met. You smile at him and his hand stops moving, but he does not remove his grip. He leans slightly in, in anticipation and you meet his lips in a timid kiss.
His lips are soft against your own, the kiss is broken after a few seconds and you both stare longingly between each other’s eyes and lips. Moving his hand from your own, he places it upon your cheek and pulls you in again.
What started off as a chaste kiss, quickly deepens as he slides his tongue in. Heat rises along your skin as your mouths move against each other in sync. Placing his hook under your elbow, Mr Jelly pulls you both up to your feet, walking you backwards until your back hit the wall; the disfigured balloon animal floating to the floor.
Your eyes shot open as you realise where you are. Shit, what if someone was to walk in? Your eyes fell upon the stranger you were intertwined with, his own eyes closed and his eyebrows knitted slightly in pleasure underneath the white face paint. You smiled into the kiss at the thought of the situation, placing your hands on his neck and pulling him in further. At this, his arms grabbed at your waist and brought your body flush to his. The sharpness of his metal hook tickled your back through your shirt, sending a tingling sensation straight to your core. A low moan erupts from the clown as you press your hips into his own, feeling a hardness through his trousers pressing into you.
An ear piercing pop between your feet breaks you from the rising intensity, allowing you both to catch your breath and assess the situation. Mr Jelly looks to the floor then back to you, chuckling.
“These fucking balloons won’t give me a break today.”
Laughing back you move yourself from the wall, needing physical distance to stop yourself from going any further in your place of work. Mr Jelly picks the balloon remains up from the floor, trying to think of what to say after what had just spiralled.
Before either of you can speak, the door opens and a cleaner walks in dragging a hoover.
“Saved by the balloon.” you mutter to Mr Jelly, shooting him a cheeky look. A worried look overtakes his face as he scans your own. His mouth opened as if to speak.
“Am I ok to get started in here?” The cleaner spoke and your turned back to face her.
“Yes of course, Sue, Mr Jelly was just showing me how to make Balloon animals!” You chirped back in the most professional manner you could muster.
“Showing you his makeup skills as well, was he?” She scoffed and plugged in the hoover.
Grabbing the mirror on your desk, you blinked hard in awe of your stupidity. White and red paint smudged all around your lips, you bit your lip to supress a chuckle.
“I guess he was.” You replied in amused defeat, there was no way of explaining that. Grabbing your things you began to exit, Mr Jelly following quickly suit.
As you reached the carpark you hung back for a moment.
“So…” You began, having no real plan of what to say.
“So…” he mimicked, “Well, if you ever… Fancy, you know.” He handed you a business card with his name and number on.
“Very professional,” You looked back up only to realise that he had walked over to his hearse and thrown himself in. You watched as he pulled away from the now sparse car park at a speed you had never seen a hearse go before.
Mr Jelly better be worth potentially losing your job over.
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