Divergence - Chapter 52
Title: Divergence
Author: Escapes
Rating: Just to be safe, NC 17
Pairing: Luke/Noah Spoiler/Warning: Spoilers up through the enlistment story arc and forward
Warnings: M/M , Language
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ATWT, P&G, CBS, etc. I'm not making money from this, don't sue, etc.
Author’s Notes: During the whole enlistment arc in Luke and Noah's story is when I realized that the writers of ATWT are on crack. I kept thinking that I could have done so much better with the story. So I thought about it and 30 pages of outline later, I started writing. This is the result. This is Luke and Noah’s storyline from the enlistment arc forward. How I would have liked to see it unfold.
Summary: There are consequences to your actions. Sometimes learning to live with those consequences teaches you things about yourself. Like how strong you really are.
AN: So, it's my Birthday and you get the present. So keep that in mind so you don't kill me. =)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 52
“And...cut!” Noah takes off the headphones and looks away from the monitor that has a direct feed from the camera. “Okay, that was good. I just need you to sell the relationship more under the fear.”
They’re shooting the last commercial on the shooting schedule for the foundation. This one features the teenaged gay couple that is being confronted by their parents about either ‘straightening up’ or getting out.
They’d had to wait for the two teenaged actors to complete their mandatory schooling for the day, before they were able to have them for shooting. Now, Noah is working against normal teenaged awkwardness at anything resembling bodily affection, actors or not. “You’re in a relationship, being confronted by both sets of parents like this, you know you’ve only got each other to depend on, since your parents have made it clear that unless you’re straight, they’re not going to condone any relationship you have. You’ve got the fear conveyed, what I need now is for you to show the relationship that’s worth risking everything that is safe and familiar for. The love you have with him that makes it impossible for you to deny who you are any more.”
The two boys nod and Noah can tell that awkwardness is still winning out. Looking around, he catches Reg’s eye as he’s changing lenses on his camera, getting ready to shoot the stills from the commercial. “It’s the subtle things that are going to sell that relationship. Get up for a minute.”
The boys both stand up off the couch in the room at the house they’re using as the “home” set.
Noah sits down and motions for Reg to sit next to him. “This is the way that you’re sitting right now.” He makes sure that there is no part of him and Reg touching and pulls out the part of him that remembers how it felt to be awkward around Luke and fighting his desire to be near him. His posture gets awkward and stiff, Reg’s body automatically responding to that by inching away even more. Noah puts his body up close to Reg’s and relaxes his posture, his hand creeping out to lay on his thigh, but his pinky finger able to touch and run along the outside of Reg’s thigh.
Reg relaxes his posture as well and his shoulder brushes against Noah’s, his foot moves over to settle against Noah’s and his hand goes onto his own thigh, so that their pinky fingers rub together.
Noah watches the two boys finally get what he is talking about, the light of understanding dawning in their eyes. He sees the gears turning in their minds as the actor side of them takes over the awkward teenager part.
Noah stands up and reaches out a hand to pull Reg to his feet. “We’ll break for 10 minutes as you two coordinate your posturing and blocking.” He turns and looks at Reg. “Reg, thanks for helping me with that.”
Chuckling, Reg nods. “No problem. Just don’t tell your boyfriend. I like my balls where they are, thanks.”
Noah grins and has to admit that Luke is fierce when he wants to be. Thinking about that fierceness, Noah feels the smile fade from his face. “Hey, has Luke said anything to you or the committee about the posters?”
Reg shakes his head, “No. I’ve been checking my phone to see if he’s texted me back about the plans that the committee has been putting together. Nothing. Is he okay? This isn’t like him.”
Looking off towards the couch, Noah watches the two boys working out their body language in awkward fits and starts and feels a pang of nostalgia go through his chest. He remembers those first touches with Luke and the way it felt when they found the best places their bodies connected. He misses those awkward whose-shoulder-goes-where shuffles that they used to do, until things clicked and their bodies knew each other and the best ways to fit together. Brining his thoughts back to Reg’s question, Noah blinks the memories out of his mind and shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not. I’m not sure what’s going on. He told me that he didn’t want to egg them on to doing something worse. I'm more upset about this than he is." He catches Reg's amused look and smirks. "I know, it's like a personality switch movie plot."
Reg nods. "It is. Do you think he's biding his time and he'll annihilate the assholes when they least expect it, or is he really serious with the whole Gandhi stance he has going?"
Shrugging again, Noah sighs. "I don't know. I just know how freaked I would be if it happened to me and how Luke would be the first one out for blood if I was the target of this." He shakes his head. "I know he wants me to just follow his lead, but I feel like I'm failing him in some way by not insisting we face this head on."
Squeezing Noah's shoulder, Reg gives him a sympathetic look. "As a committee, we have to respond to this, I hope Luke realizes that."
Noah remembers his conversation with Luke before they both left the apartment. "Yeah, he does know that. He told me that he'd have to leave the big reaction to the committee, that maybe a group voice would have more sway."
Snorting, Reg wrinkles his nose. "With the current administration at O.U.? Good luck with that. The Dean is still steamed about that fabulous article in the paper." Reg leans closer to Noah. "Speaking of that article...was that Luke?"
Noah plays with the clapboard in his hands. "If it was, he's not saying. I asked him if he knew who wrote it and he said yes, but wouldn't tell me. He said he wanted me to be able to answer honestly that I didn't know who wrote it, if the Dean started interrogating the committee or the film festival organizers about it." Looking down at his watch, he looks up and motions at the crew. "Okay, break is over! Time to get this in the can. Places!"
Luke has to give credit to the LGBT committee, they had done a thorough job of clearing the campus of the posters, but the damage is already done. His walk to the paper's office has been uneventful, but he isn't blind to the looks. Some have been sympathetic, while others have been mocking or on the edge of hostile.
He keeps his head up and his face expressionless. There was no point in adding fuel to anyone's fire, friend or foe.
Opening the door to the office, Luke sees Harris bent over his laptop, the editing mode clear in every part of his manner.
Placing his bag on the floor by the table leg, Luke waits for Harris to finish what he's doing. There is no pulling him out of editor mode, unless the building is on fire. He tilts his head to the side as he contemplates, maybe not even then. Chances are, he would just pick up his laptop and continue editing as he evacuated the building.
Luke is surprised when Harris looks up and closes his laptop within 30 seconds of him sitting down.
"Thanks for coming here first, Luke. Professor Frakes is on his way up right now."
Luke swallows back the metallic taste of unease. Their advisor is usually only brought in when things are going to get agitated. "You’re calling in the big guns?"
Harris smiles slightly before turning serious again. "He's coming because I absolutely refuse to give in to this idiocy."
Luke raises an eyebrow at that, but the door opens before he can open his mouth to ask what Harris means.
Professor Frakes has been the advisor for the school paper as long as Luke can recall. He remembers seeing him at board meetings for the school when he was still young enough to be playing with Star Wars toys while he waited for his grandmother to finish all the boring talking she was doing at the meetings he sometimes got dragged to. Now that he is an adult, he gets along with Frakes pretty well, even if they do occasionally butt heads over the way the paper handles certain issues. Because of those disagreements, he can tell the minute the professor steps in the room that things are going to go into butting heads territory quickly.
"Good afternoon, Luke."
Nodding a greeting, Luke watches as the professor half leans, half sits on the edge of the table opposite him and Harris. "I want to preface what I'm about to say with the fact that it's under extreme duress from, and abject disgust with, the administration of this school."
Luke feels the apprehension solidify in his throat into a painful knot. He clears his throat, dislodging it enough to talk. "Understood."
Frakes spares a look at Harris, who is returning it with a level glare that would have cowed lesser men. Frakes looks away from Harris and directly at Luke again. "The posters that wallpapered the campus yesterday were...I'm sorry that someone felt the only way to prop up their campaign was to run you and your character through the mud like that." He ran a hand through his graying hair. "I'm sure you know who I'm referring to. At best, it is reprehensible. At worst, there could be a case made for sexuality motivated slander. The incident has been reported, which I'm sure you are aware of, and the response from the Dean has failed to meet my remarkably low standards for him. He has insisted that you be removed from the staff of the paper, until the matter can be investigated."
Luke sits back in his chair, too stunned to react for a moment.
Harris, who had remained quiet up to this point, turns to face Luke fully. "It gets worse. He's not investigating Davis and that weasel of a campaign manager, he's investigating you and the paper."
Luke's mind nearly spins in circles as he tries to figure the logic of that out. "For what?"
Disgust clouds Harris' face so completely, he looks years older. "For improper use of the paper as a campaign tool."
For one long second, Luke has the irrational urge to laugh and look around for a candid camera crew. "In what world would those posters be considered anything but homophobic agitprop? No one has asked me if I'm running. If they had, the answer would have been no. The Dean isn't even attempting to pretend that he's going to do something about the people...fuck it, about Kevin and those posters?"
Frakes nods, but Harris cuts him off with a disgruntled snort. "On the record, he says he is. Off the record, he hasn't done a damn thing except send us formal notice that we are under investigation and that you are to be removed from the staff during that investigation, or the paper will be shut down until a new editor and advisor can be installed."
Harris opens his laptop and hits a few keys, the printer in the corner of the room humming to life. "They'll have to find a new editor anyway. I refuse to have anything to do with this any more. I just finished my resignation letter when you came in."
For some reason, that hits the panic button in Luke more than anything that's happening to him. He gets up and grabs the letter, feeding it in to the shredder right next to it. "If you do that, you're just playing right into his hands. This school needs the paper to be in the hands of people like you. If you step down, the Dean is going to put one of his puppets in the role and he'll get what he wants out of it, total control over what does, and does not, get reported on. Please, stay and make it impossible for him to oust either one of you without overtly pulling rank and showing his true colors."
Frakes looks at Harris with a half smile on his face. "I do believe Luke has made some excellent points, Harris. Several of which I made earlier today, when you called me an out of touch old codger."
Harris' cheeks flare pink for a second, as Luke has to snort at the wording. "Codger, Harris? I've heard my grandmother use that word."
Harris rolls his eyes and sighs. "Shut up. It was better than the other words I wanted to use at that moment that would have saved me the trouble of having to resign."
Luke has no hesitation in knowing just what sort of words that Harris is talking about. They are probably the same ones that are sitting heavily on his own tongue, being restrained by sheer force of will and clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I'm having the same problem. I know there was nothing you both could do, short of getting yourselves removed from the paper as well." He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. "Rationally, I know that. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to tell both of you exactly what I think of the situation. So, what I'm going to do is keep my big mouth shut, for once, grab my stuff and go to my classes."
Frakes looks up at Luke, surprised that the explosion of completely justified anger is not coming. "Luke, I've arranged with your other professors to have the lecture notes sent to you. No one would expect you to go to classes after news like this."
Luke shakes his head."That's why I have to go. If I don't, I'm just proving to Kevin and those that think like him that I'm a weak little faggot who hides when the going gets tough."
He slings the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. "I don't mean this as condescendingly as it's maybe going to sound, but I'm gay and if I turn tail and hide whenever someone takes exception with the way live my life, I'd never be able to leave my house. Being straight, you're never going to understand that."
Frakes and Harris both look like they want to respond to what Luke has said, but before they can find the words, Luke walks out of the office.
The rest of the day drags longer than Luke can stand. His neck and shoulders are radiating a burning ache from constantly reminding himself to keep his head high. Even his face hurts from keeping it carefully neutral the whole afternoon. Now that his last class is finished, he has to remind himself not to automatically start towards the paper’s office. He’s found the first benefit from being turfed from the staff. No meeting after class today. Of course, now that he’s barred from attending them, he wants nothing more than to be there.
As he reaches his car, Luke’s steps stutter for a second as he sees the envelope stuck under the wiper on his windshield. Feeling the anger surge up in side of him, Luke roughly snatches it, the wiper making a squeak of rubber on glass as it’s pulled upwards with the envelope.
Tossing the envelope onto the passenger seat, Luke takes a minute to walk around the car to make sure nothing has been tampered with. When he's satisfied that only the envelope was left, he gets in the car.
The anger at this whole situation is simmering closer and closer to the boil over point. The fact that he doesn't feel safe at a college in the same town he'd been born and grown up in sits heavily in his gut. Up until today it was just an annoyance. Now, it's affecting his education and dreams for his future. He shakes his head, not just his future. Noah has been affected by this too.
Luke's sure seeing a real life version of every gay man's mental worst case scenario has shaken him to the core. Being Noah, he hasn't said anything outright, but the fact that he'd gotten more wound up than he'd usually allow himself last night had been telling.
Feeling exposed sitting in his car, Luke knows whoever put the envelope on his car is probably still watching to see his reaction to it and he'd already given them enough of a show when he'd checked his car over. Starting it, he heads for home.
The envelope sits like a manila elephant in the passenger seat. He keeps his eyes trained on the road in front of him, refusing to give the envelope any more notice until he's home. That means, obviously, that he side eyes the envelope every five seconds, and by the time he's parked at his apartment, the envelope has consumed every other thought in his head, pushing all others to the outer edges.
He makes himself turn off the car and remove his seatbelt, before reaching for the envelope. Sliding his fingernail under the flap, he rips open the seam along the side and reaches inside.
The reaction is immediate and visceral. The contents of the envelope are thrown back on the passenger seat and his fingers are fumbling blindly for the handle on the door, desperate to find the lever to pull that would open it.
The catch finally gives as Luke's mouth floods with the bitter acid of bile. Leaning out of the car, he empties the contents of his stomach onto the asphalt. He keeps gagging until his stomach is empty and cramping with the effort of trying in vain to find more to offer up.
Once he's sure that he's done. He sits back into the car seat and opens the console between the seats, using the napkins he keeps there to wipe his mouth and forehead.
Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths, before blindly reaching over to the passenger seat and carefully sliding contents of the envelope inside of it again.
Reaching with shaking hands into his pocket, he pulls out his cell phone and thumbs through his contacts. Putting it up to his ear, he cuts off the person who answers. "We need to meet. Right now."
Luke figures he sounds about as bad as he feels, because instead of the questions he's expecting, he's only told the location and the line is disconnected.
Noah lowers the phone from his ear, shaking his head at Reg. With his own cell up to his ear, Reg speaks to the person at the other end, giving a few rapid fire sentences and hanging up.
The actors and crew had been sent home for the day and it’s only them in the house they’d used for the shoot. Reg zips the last of his camera bags shut. “Ready to go?”
Grabbing the last of his equipment, Noah nods. “Yeah.”
As they turn off the last of the lights and lock the door behind them, Reg makes a startled noise, causing Noah to turn around as well. “That was quick.”
“I was nearby.”
Luke stands on the steps of the front porch after leaving the meeting. He feels like he’s been gutted and then run over by a truck with razor blade wheels for good measure. His stomach rumbles ominously as he thinks about the envelope again. He’s at a loss to understand how someone can hate him that much for how he was born and feel that it’s perfectly okay to....he sits down on the step as his stomach dives to his toes again.
He breathes deeply until he feels like he’s not going to vomit again. Through all the noise in his head, one voice raises above them all, repeating the same temptation over and over.
Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he heads to his car. He’s so tired of how hard everything is.
Reg grabs a struggling Noah from behind, lowering him down to sit on the steps. “Noah, you don’t want to kill the messenger.”
Taking a deep breath, Noah keeps his eyes trained on his feet. He takes a few more, before looking up at Harris. “Sorry.”
Sensing it’s okay to move closer, Harris sits next to Noah on the step. “I’m sorry, I thought you already knew. This situation is so messed up. I was so disgusted with it that I wanted to quit the paper, but Luke made me stay, he even shredded my resignation letter.”
That raises a corner of Noah’s mouth. “Bossy isn’t he?”
Nodding, Harris smiles back. “Yeah, but it’s what makes Luke who he is.”
Reg lets go of Noah and moves to sit on his other side. “I have a question though. How did he react?”
Harris raises an eyebrow at the question, but answers it. “A lot better than either of us thought he would. Professor Frakes was there as well. Instead of the famous Snyder temper we’re used to at any injustices, he just sat quietly for a second, probably from the shock, and then talked to us for a few minutes before going to class.”
Noah’s head whips up at that. “What? You made him go to class after dripping that bomb on him?”
Harris raises his hands and shakes his head. “No. Frakes had made arrangements for his professors this afternoon to send him the lecture notes, but he refused the offer. He said that if he didn’t go on like normal that he’d be proving to Kevin and the Dean that he’s the weak little...f-word that they think he is.”
Noah stands up, grabbing his bags, and nods at Harris. “Thank you for letting me know. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to find Luke.”
Both Reg and Harris wave him off, starting to talk about how the paper and the committee are going to respond to this.
Luke feels the bass of the classic rock music pounding through him and inhales the smell of stale sweat, beer and desperation in the air. The stool that he’s sitting on is uneven, tilting every time he moves, but it’s not annoying enough to make him move. His focus is on the frosty glass in front of him. This bar was one of the last ones that did things the old school way. School....his fingers twitch closer to the glass, the less he thinks about that hell hole right now, the better.
He takes a deep breath, feeling the anger and the urge to throw up fighting it out in his gut. It was too bad they didn’t realize the feeling that had been there longer than the both of them had already won a silent victory. It was that feeling that got him into his car, got him across town and ordered the beer in front of him. Even though he knows it’s impossible with all the other smells in here, he swears he can smell the yeast and hops in the glass in front of him, feel the sharp bitterness of the taste and the light touch of the foam bubbles bursting on his lips after he pulls his mouth away from the glass.
His tongue comes out to lick his lips, his mouth watering in want. The image of Noah’s concerned face floats in front of him for a second, the bile climbing higher in his throat, burning so painfully on his empty stomach that he winces. His fingers curl around the bottom of the glass, the shock of cold feeling like a homecoming to his skin.
"Hey there. Fancy you and I meeting up here."
Closing his eyes, Luke bites back the urge to swear. Not sure if he wants to kiss or kill for the interruption.
Luke looks up and smiles half heartedly, "If you ask me what my sign is, I'm throwing these peanuts at you."
"You made a joke. That's a good start. Got plans for the night?"
Luke closes his eyes and then looks up at the other person. "I guess I do now."
Noah shifts on the couch, trying find a position that is comfortable, but not comfortable enough to fall asleep. He looks at his watch again, rubbing his eyes when they refuse to clear enough for him to read the time. He knows it’s early, the beginning of daylight starting to creep up the windowsill and into the room.
He looks down at his phone, knowing there are going to be no more missed calls there. He’d tried to reach Luke for hours, but it kept going to voicemail and then when he’d filled that, he’d just been getting that the person he was trying to reach was busy or out of the service area.
Then the call came.
He’d stopped trying to reach Luke after that.
He’s just starting to nod off again, when the alarm beeps as the door is opened. They both look at each other, rumpled and in yesterday’s clothing.
Noah stands to his full height. “Where the hell have you been?”
Author: Escapes
Rating: Just to be safe, NC 17
Pairing: Luke/Noah Spoiler/Warning: Spoilers up through the enlistment story arc and forward
Warnings: M/M , Language
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ATWT, P&G, CBS, etc. I'm not making money from this, don't sue, etc.
Author’s Notes: During the whole enlistment arc in Luke and Noah's story is when I realized that the writers of ATWT are on crack. I kept thinking that I could have done so much better with the story. So I thought about it and 30 pages of outline later, I started writing. This is the result. This is Luke and Noah’s storyline from the enlistment arc forward. How I would have liked to see it unfold.
Summary: There are consequences to your actions. Sometimes learning to live with those consequences teaches you things about yourself. Like how strong you really are.
AN: So, it's my Birthday and you get the present. So keep that in mind so you don't kill me. =)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 52
“And...cut!” Noah takes off the headphones and looks away from the monitor that has a direct feed from the camera. “Okay, that was good. I just need you to sell the relationship more under the fear.”
They’re shooting the last commercial on the shooting schedule for the foundation. This one features the teenaged gay couple that is being confronted by their parents about either ‘straightening up’ or getting out.
They’d had to wait for the two teenaged actors to complete their mandatory schooling for the day, before they were able to have them for shooting. Now, Noah is working against normal teenaged awkwardness at anything resembling bodily affection, actors or not. “You’re in a relationship, being confronted by both sets of parents like this, you know you’ve only got each other to depend on, since your parents have made it clear that unless you’re straight, they’re not going to condone any relationship you have. You’ve got the fear conveyed, what I need now is for you to show the relationship that’s worth risking everything that is safe and familiar for. The love you have with him that makes it impossible for you to deny who you are any more.”
The two boys nod and Noah can tell that awkwardness is still winning out. Looking around, he catches Reg’s eye as he’s changing lenses on his camera, getting ready to shoot the stills from the commercial. “It’s the subtle things that are going to sell that relationship. Get up for a minute.”
The boys both stand up off the couch in the room at the house they’re using as the “home” set.
Noah sits down and motions for Reg to sit next to him. “This is the way that you’re sitting right now.” He makes sure that there is no part of him and Reg touching and pulls out the part of him that remembers how it felt to be awkward around Luke and fighting his desire to be near him. His posture gets awkward and stiff, Reg’s body automatically responding to that by inching away even more. Noah puts his body up close to Reg’s and relaxes his posture, his hand creeping out to lay on his thigh, but his pinky finger able to touch and run along the outside of Reg’s thigh.
Reg relaxes his posture as well and his shoulder brushes against Noah’s, his foot moves over to settle against Noah’s and his hand goes onto his own thigh, so that their pinky fingers rub together.
Noah watches the two boys finally get what he is talking about, the light of understanding dawning in their eyes. He sees the gears turning in their minds as the actor side of them takes over the awkward teenager part.
Noah stands up and reaches out a hand to pull Reg to his feet. “We’ll break for 10 minutes as you two coordinate your posturing and blocking.” He turns and looks at Reg. “Reg, thanks for helping me with that.”
Chuckling, Reg nods. “No problem. Just don’t tell your boyfriend. I like my balls where they are, thanks.”
Noah grins and has to admit that Luke is fierce when he wants to be. Thinking about that fierceness, Noah feels the smile fade from his face. “Hey, has Luke said anything to you or the committee about the posters?”
Reg shakes his head, “No. I’ve been checking my phone to see if he’s texted me back about the plans that the committee has been putting together. Nothing. Is he okay? This isn’t like him.”
Looking off towards the couch, Noah watches the two boys working out their body language in awkward fits and starts and feels a pang of nostalgia go through his chest. He remembers those first touches with Luke and the way it felt when they found the best places their bodies connected. He misses those awkward whose-shoulder-goes-where shuffles that they used to do, until things clicked and their bodies knew each other and the best ways to fit together. Brining his thoughts back to Reg’s question, Noah blinks the memories out of his mind and shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not. I’m not sure what’s going on. He told me that he didn’t want to egg them on to doing something worse. I'm more upset about this than he is." He catches Reg's amused look and smirks. "I know, it's like a personality switch movie plot."
Reg nods. "It is. Do you think he's biding his time and he'll annihilate the assholes when they least expect it, or is he really serious with the whole Gandhi stance he has going?"
Shrugging again, Noah sighs. "I don't know. I just know how freaked I would be if it happened to me and how Luke would be the first one out for blood if I was the target of this." He shakes his head. "I know he wants me to just follow his lead, but I feel like I'm failing him in some way by not insisting we face this head on."
Squeezing Noah's shoulder, Reg gives him a sympathetic look. "As a committee, we have to respond to this, I hope Luke realizes that."
Noah remembers his conversation with Luke before they both left the apartment. "Yeah, he does know that. He told me that he'd have to leave the big reaction to the committee, that maybe a group voice would have more sway."
Snorting, Reg wrinkles his nose. "With the current administration at O.U.? Good luck with that. The Dean is still steamed about that fabulous article in the paper." Reg leans closer to Noah. "Speaking of that article...was that Luke?"
Noah plays with the clapboard in his hands. "If it was, he's not saying. I asked him if he knew who wrote it and he said yes, but wouldn't tell me. He said he wanted me to be able to answer honestly that I didn't know who wrote it, if the Dean started interrogating the committee or the film festival organizers about it." Looking down at his watch, he looks up and motions at the crew. "Okay, break is over! Time to get this in the can. Places!"
Luke has to give credit to the LGBT committee, they had done a thorough job of clearing the campus of the posters, but the damage is already done. His walk to the paper's office has been uneventful, but he isn't blind to the looks. Some have been sympathetic, while others have been mocking or on the edge of hostile.
He keeps his head up and his face expressionless. There was no point in adding fuel to anyone's fire, friend or foe.
Opening the door to the office, Luke sees Harris bent over his laptop, the editing mode clear in every part of his manner.
Placing his bag on the floor by the table leg, Luke waits for Harris to finish what he's doing. There is no pulling him out of editor mode, unless the building is on fire. He tilts his head to the side as he contemplates, maybe not even then. Chances are, he would just pick up his laptop and continue editing as he evacuated the building.
Luke is surprised when Harris looks up and closes his laptop within 30 seconds of him sitting down.
"Thanks for coming here first, Luke. Professor Frakes is on his way up right now."
Luke swallows back the metallic taste of unease. Their advisor is usually only brought in when things are going to get agitated. "You’re calling in the big guns?"
Harris smiles slightly before turning serious again. "He's coming because I absolutely refuse to give in to this idiocy."
Luke raises an eyebrow at that, but the door opens before he can open his mouth to ask what Harris means.
Professor Frakes has been the advisor for the school paper as long as Luke can recall. He remembers seeing him at board meetings for the school when he was still young enough to be playing with Star Wars toys while he waited for his grandmother to finish all the boring talking she was doing at the meetings he sometimes got dragged to. Now that he is an adult, he gets along with Frakes pretty well, even if they do occasionally butt heads over the way the paper handles certain issues. Because of those disagreements, he can tell the minute the professor steps in the room that things are going to go into butting heads territory quickly.
"Good afternoon, Luke."
Nodding a greeting, Luke watches as the professor half leans, half sits on the edge of the table opposite him and Harris. "I want to preface what I'm about to say with the fact that it's under extreme duress from, and abject disgust with, the administration of this school."
Luke feels the apprehension solidify in his throat into a painful knot. He clears his throat, dislodging it enough to talk. "Understood."
Frakes spares a look at Harris, who is returning it with a level glare that would have cowed lesser men. Frakes looks away from Harris and directly at Luke again. "The posters that wallpapered the campus yesterday were...I'm sorry that someone felt the only way to prop up their campaign was to run you and your character through the mud like that." He ran a hand through his graying hair. "I'm sure you know who I'm referring to. At best, it is reprehensible. At worst, there could be a case made for sexuality motivated slander. The incident has been reported, which I'm sure you are aware of, and the response from the Dean has failed to meet my remarkably low standards for him. He has insisted that you be removed from the staff of the paper, until the matter can be investigated."
Luke sits back in his chair, too stunned to react for a moment.
Harris, who had remained quiet up to this point, turns to face Luke fully. "It gets worse. He's not investigating Davis and that weasel of a campaign manager, he's investigating you and the paper."
Luke's mind nearly spins in circles as he tries to figure the logic of that out. "For what?"
Disgust clouds Harris' face so completely, he looks years older. "For improper use of the paper as a campaign tool."
For one long second, Luke has the irrational urge to laugh and look around for a candid camera crew. "In what world would those posters be considered anything but homophobic agitprop? No one has asked me if I'm running. If they had, the answer would have been no. The Dean isn't even attempting to pretend that he's going to do something about the people...fuck it, about Kevin and those posters?"
Frakes nods, but Harris cuts him off with a disgruntled snort. "On the record, he says he is. Off the record, he hasn't done a damn thing except send us formal notice that we are under investigation and that you are to be removed from the staff during that investigation, or the paper will be shut down until a new editor and advisor can be installed."
Harris opens his laptop and hits a few keys, the printer in the corner of the room humming to life. "They'll have to find a new editor anyway. I refuse to have anything to do with this any more. I just finished my resignation letter when you came in."
For some reason, that hits the panic button in Luke more than anything that's happening to him. He gets up and grabs the letter, feeding it in to the shredder right next to it. "If you do that, you're just playing right into his hands. This school needs the paper to be in the hands of people like you. If you step down, the Dean is going to put one of his puppets in the role and he'll get what he wants out of it, total control over what does, and does not, get reported on. Please, stay and make it impossible for him to oust either one of you without overtly pulling rank and showing his true colors."
Frakes looks at Harris with a half smile on his face. "I do believe Luke has made some excellent points, Harris. Several of which I made earlier today, when you called me an out of touch old codger."
Harris' cheeks flare pink for a second, as Luke has to snort at the wording. "Codger, Harris? I've heard my grandmother use that word."
Harris rolls his eyes and sighs. "Shut up. It was better than the other words I wanted to use at that moment that would have saved me the trouble of having to resign."
Luke has no hesitation in knowing just what sort of words that Harris is talking about. They are probably the same ones that are sitting heavily on his own tongue, being restrained by sheer force of will and clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I'm having the same problem. I know there was nothing you both could do, short of getting yourselves removed from the paper as well." He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. "Rationally, I know that. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to tell both of you exactly what I think of the situation. So, what I'm going to do is keep my big mouth shut, for once, grab my stuff and go to my classes."
Frakes looks up at Luke, surprised that the explosion of completely justified anger is not coming. "Luke, I've arranged with your other professors to have the lecture notes sent to you. No one would expect you to go to classes after news like this."
Luke shakes his head."That's why I have to go. If I don't, I'm just proving to Kevin and those that think like him that I'm a weak little faggot who hides when the going gets tough."
He slings the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. "I don't mean this as condescendingly as it's maybe going to sound, but I'm gay and if I turn tail and hide whenever someone takes exception with the way live my life, I'd never be able to leave my house. Being straight, you're never going to understand that."
Frakes and Harris both look like they want to respond to what Luke has said, but before they can find the words, Luke walks out of the office.
The rest of the day drags longer than Luke can stand. His neck and shoulders are radiating a burning ache from constantly reminding himself to keep his head high. Even his face hurts from keeping it carefully neutral the whole afternoon. Now that his last class is finished, he has to remind himself not to automatically start towards the paper’s office. He’s found the first benefit from being turfed from the staff. No meeting after class today. Of course, now that he’s barred from attending them, he wants nothing more than to be there.
As he reaches his car, Luke’s steps stutter for a second as he sees the envelope stuck under the wiper on his windshield. Feeling the anger surge up in side of him, Luke roughly snatches it, the wiper making a squeak of rubber on glass as it’s pulled upwards with the envelope.
Tossing the envelope onto the passenger seat, Luke takes a minute to walk around the car to make sure nothing has been tampered with. When he's satisfied that only the envelope was left, he gets in the car.
The anger at this whole situation is simmering closer and closer to the boil over point. The fact that he doesn't feel safe at a college in the same town he'd been born and grown up in sits heavily in his gut. Up until today it was just an annoyance. Now, it's affecting his education and dreams for his future. He shakes his head, not just his future. Noah has been affected by this too.
Luke's sure seeing a real life version of every gay man's mental worst case scenario has shaken him to the core. Being Noah, he hasn't said anything outright, but the fact that he'd gotten more wound up than he'd usually allow himself last night had been telling.
Feeling exposed sitting in his car, Luke knows whoever put the envelope on his car is probably still watching to see his reaction to it and he'd already given them enough of a show when he'd checked his car over. Starting it, he heads for home.
The envelope sits like a manila elephant in the passenger seat. He keeps his eyes trained on the road in front of him, refusing to give the envelope any more notice until he's home. That means, obviously, that he side eyes the envelope every five seconds, and by the time he's parked at his apartment, the envelope has consumed every other thought in his head, pushing all others to the outer edges.
He makes himself turn off the car and remove his seatbelt, before reaching for the envelope. Sliding his fingernail under the flap, he rips open the seam along the side and reaches inside.
The reaction is immediate and visceral. The contents of the envelope are thrown back on the passenger seat and his fingers are fumbling blindly for the handle on the door, desperate to find the lever to pull that would open it.
The catch finally gives as Luke's mouth floods with the bitter acid of bile. Leaning out of the car, he empties the contents of his stomach onto the asphalt. He keeps gagging until his stomach is empty and cramping with the effort of trying in vain to find more to offer up.
Once he's sure that he's done. He sits back into the car seat and opens the console between the seats, using the napkins he keeps there to wipe his mouth and forehead.
Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths, before blindly reaching over to the passenger seat and carefully sliding contents of the envelope inside of it again.
Reaching with shaking hands into his pocket, he pulls out his cell phone and thumbs through his contacts. Putting it up to his ear, he cuts off the person who answers. "We need to meet. Right now."
Luke figures he sounds about as bad as he feels, because instead of the questions he's expecting, he's only told the location and the line is disconnected.
Noah lowers the phone from his ear, shaking his head at Reg. With his own cell up to his ear, Reg speaks to the person at the other end, giving a few rapid fire sentences and hanging up.
The actors and crew had been sent home for the day and it’s only them in the house they’d used for the shoot. Reg zips the last of his camera bags shut. “Ready to go?”
Grabbing the last of his equipment, Noah nods. “Yeah.”
As they turn off the last of the lights and lock the door behind them, Reg makes a startled noise, causing Noah to turn around as well. “That was quick.”
“I was nearby.”
Luke stands on the steps of the front porch after leaving the meeting. He feels like he’s been gutted and then run over by a truck with razor blade wheels for good measure. His stomach rumbles ominously as he thinks about the envelope again. He’s at a loss to understand how someone can hate him that much for how he was born and feel that it’s perfectly okay to....he sits down on the step as his stomach dives to his toes again.
He breathes deeply until he feels like he’s not going to vomit again. Through all the noise in his head, one voice raises above them all, repeating the same temptation over and over.
Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he heads to his car. He’s so tired of how hard everything is.
Reg grabs a struggling Noah from behind, lowering him down to sit on the steps. “Noah, you don’t want to kill the messenger.”
Taking a deep breath, Noah keeps his eyes trained on his feet. He takes a few more, before looking up at Harris. “Sorry.”
Sensing it’s okay to move closer, Harris sits next to Noah on the step. “I’m sorry, I thought you already knew. This situation is so messed up. I was so disgusted with it that I wanted to quit the paper, but Luke made me stay, he even shredded my resignation letter.”
That raises a corner of Noah’s mouth. “Bossy isn’t he?”
Nodding, Harris smiles back. “Yeah, but it’s what makes Luke who he is.”
Reg lets go of Noah and moves to sit on his other side. “I have a question though. How did he react?”
Harris raises an eyebrow at the question, but answers it. “A lot better than either of us thought he would. Professor Frakes was there as well. Instead of the famous Snyder temper we’re used to at any injustices, he just sat quietly for a second, probably from the shock, and then talked to us for a few minutes before going to class.”
Noah’s head whips up at that. “What? You made him go to class after dripping that bomb on him?”
Harris raises his hands and shakes his head. “No. Frakes had made arrangements for his professors this afternoon to send him the lecture notes, but he refused the offer. He said that if he didn’t go on like normal that he’d be proving to Kevin and the Dean that he’s the weak little...f-word that they think he is.”
Noah stands up, grabbing his bags, and nods at Harris. “Thank you for letting me know. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to find Luke.”
Both Reg and Harris wave him off, starting to talk about how the paper and the committee are going to respond to this.
Luke feels the bass of the classic rock music pounding through him and inhales the smell of stale sweat, beer and desperation in the air. The stool that he’s sitting on is uneven, tilting every time he moves, but it’s not annoying enough to make him move. His focus is on the frosty glass in front of him. This bar was one of the last ones that did things the old school way. School....his fingers twitch closer to the glass, the less he thinks about that hell hole right now, the better.
He takes a deep breath, feeling the anger and the urge to throw up fighting it out in his gut. It was too bad they didn’t realize the feeling that had been there longer than the both of them had already won a silent victory. It was that feeling that got him into his car, got him across town and ordered the beer in front of him. Even though he knows it’s impossible with all the other smells in here, he swears he can smell the yeast and hops in the glass in front of him, feel the sharp bitterness of the taste and the light touch of the foam bubbles bursting on his lips after he pulls his mouth away from the glass.
His tongue comes out to lick his lips, his mouth watering in want. The image of Noah’s concerned face floats in front of him for a second, the bile climbing higher in his throat, burning so painfully on his empty stomach that he winces. His fingers curl around the bottom of the glass, the shock of cold feeling like a homecoming to his skin.
"Hey there. Fancy you and I meeting up here."
Closing his eyes, Luke bites back the urge to swear. Not sure if he wants to kiss or kill for the interruption.
Luke looks up and smiles half heartedly, "If you ask me what my sign is, I'm throwing these peanuts at you."
"You made a joke. That's a good start. Got plans for the night?"
Luke closes his eyes and then looks up at the other person. "I guess I do now."
Noah shifts on the couch, trying find a position that is comfortable, but not comfortable enough to fall asleep. He looks at his watch again, rubbing his eyes when they refuse to clear enough for him to read the time. He knows it’s early, the beginning of daylight starting to creep up the windowsill and into the room.
He looks down at his phone, knowing there are going to be no more missed calls there. He’d tried to reach Luke for hours, but it kept going to voicemail and then when he’d filled that, he’d just been getting that the person he was trying to reach was busy or out of the service area.
Then the call came.
He’d stopped trying to reach Luke after that.
He’s just starting to nod off again, when the alarm beeps as the door is opened. They both look at each other, rumpled and in yesterday’s clothing.
Noah stands to his full height. “Where the hell have you been?”