B
B is for Bored (provided by ekaterin24 )
(it's also for history boys in college with crushes)
title: bored
pairing: Posner/Scripps, pre-slash
rating: PG
summary: “I’m bored,” Posner said again, more pointedly and Scripps looked up from his textbook. “It’s Medieval literature,” he pointed out. “I think it’s supposed to be boring.”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. “I’m bored,” Posner said. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Will you bloody stop that?” Scripps all but shouted and the pencil tapping ceased, thankfully.
“I’m bored,” Posner said again, more pointedly and Scripps looked up from his textbook. “It’s Medieval literature,” he pointed out. “I think it’s supposed to be boring.”
Posner sighed in that melodramatic way he had and Scripps stifled a smile. “Can’t we take a break?” he asked.
“We’ve only been at it - “ Scripps glanced at the clock - “Forty minutes.”
“Still,” Posner hedged, “You have done an awful lot of reading.”
Scripps glanced up again and was met with Posner’s approximation of puppy dog eyes. He groaned. “If I take a break with you now, will you let me study in peace later?”
Posner brightened. “Oh yes!”
Scripps sighed and closed his textbook. “Alright then. Did you want to grab a coffee?”
“I thought we could play,” Posner said, almost shyly.
“Oh,” Scripps said. He had almost forgotten about the piano downstairs in the common room. He had made note of it when he moved into his dormitory three months ago but between classes and studying and actually trying to have a social life, he hadn’t much used it. “I suppose we could.”
Posner smiled and jumped up to lead the way downstairs. They passed another boy in the stairwell who they nodded at politely but the actual common room was blissfully empty. Most people were probably actually studying, Scripps thought ruefully. Posner pulled the sheet off the baby grand that rested in the corner of the room and Scripps felt something in his stomach unfurl at the sight.
“What do you want to play?” he asked, settling down on the piano seat. He played a quick scale and some arpeggios, just getting the feel of the instrument. She was in tune and well taken care of, and for that he was grateful.
“I thought Bewitched,” Posner said with a bit of a smile, that if Scripps had to categorize it, would probably call it sly.
“Haven’t done that one in a while,” Scripps said. Not since Dakin, he didn’t say but he could tell it was on both their minds.
He played around for a bit, trying to remember the chords, before he got it. Posner leaned against the piano and watched him, but the gaze felt familiar.
“Okay,” he said and played the opening.
“He’s a fool and don’t I know it,” Posner sang and his voice was just as gorgeous as Scripps had remembered. He wondered absently if Posner has been doing vocal exercises with someone else and an unexpected surge of jealousy flared up.
“I’ll sing to him,” Posner sang on and Scripps looked up briefly and met Posner’s eye. Posner was singing to him, it almost seemed and Scripps fumbled for a second before his fingers found their bearings. He didn’t dare look up again but he couldn’t help it and of course he looked up just to catch Posner singing, “Lost my heart, but what of it? My mistake, I agree.”
He smiled self-deprecatingly at Scripps for a split second and Scripps no longer had any doubt that Posner was singing to him.
“I’ll sing to him, each spring to him,” Posner sang, “And worship the trousers that cling to him...”
Scripps felt the back of his neck heat and knew he was probably blushing bright red at this point. He had seen Posner sing to Dakin, sure, but he never imagined the heady feeling that being the one in the center of all that attention would provoke. He knew why Dakin didn’t discourage it, now.
His fingers kept playing, as if of their own volition until the last chord had faded and Scripps had no choice but to look up at Posner. Posner was looking down at the piano, tracing shapes with his finger in the dust where the sheet hadn’t quite covered the piano. Scripps felt something tighten in his chest.
“Well, I guess we should get back to it,” Scripps said, and though it came out awkward and too bright, Posner merely smiled and nodded.
“I suppose so,” Posner said with a shrug and met Scripps’ eye for the barest of moments before turning and leaving. Scripps pushed in the piano bench and threw the sheet back on before following, humming “bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I,” under his breath.
AN I do think that if Posner was going to romance Scripps, he has enough class to pick a song that he hasn't used to romance his best friend, but at the same time, he wanted it to be something Scripps knew, and so decided on Bewitched.
(it's also for history boys in college with crushes)
title: bored
pairing: Posner/Scripps, pre-slash
rating: PG
summary: “I’m bored,” Posner said again, more pointedly and Scripps looked up from his textbook. “It’s Medieval literature,” he pointed out. “I think it’s supposed to be boring.”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. “I’m bored,” Posner said. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Will you bloody stop that?” Scripps all but shouted and the pencil tapping ceased, thankfully.
“I’m bored,” Posner said again, more pointedly and Scripps looked up from his textbook. “It’s Medieval literature,” he pointed out. “I think it’s supposed to be boring.”
Posner sighed in that melodramatic way he had and Scripps stifled a smile. “Can’t we take a break?” he asked.
“We’ve only been at it - “ Scripps glanced at the clock - “Forty minutes.”
“Still,” Posner hedged, “You have done an awful lot of reading.”
Scripps glanced up again and was met with Posner’s approximation of puppy dog eyes. He groaned. “If I take a break with you now, will you let me study in peace later?”
Posner brightened. “Oh yes!”
Scripps sighed and closed his textbook. “Alright then. Did you want to grab a coffee?”
“I thought we could play,” Posner said, almost shyly.
“Oh,” Scripps said. He had almost forgotten about the piano downstairs in the common room. He had made note of it when he moved into his dormitory three months ago but between classes and studying and actually trying to have a social life, he hadn’t much used it. “I suppose we could.”
Posner smiled and jumped up to lead the way downstairs. They passed another boy in the stairwell who they nodded at politely but the actual common room was blissfully empty. Most people were probably actually studying, Scripps thought ruefully. Posner pulled the sheet off the baby grand that rested in the corner of the room and Scripps felt something in his stomach unfurl at the sight.
“What do you want to play?” he asked, settling down on the piano seat. He played a quick scale and some arpeggios, just getting the feel of the instrument. She was in tune and well taken care of, and for that he was grateful.
“I thought Bewitched,” Posner said with a bit of a smile, that if Scripps had to categorize it, would probably call it sly.
“Haven’t done that one in a while,” Scripps said. Not since Dakin, he didn’t say but he could tell it was on both their minds.
He played around for a bit, trying to remember the chords, before he got it. Posner leaned against the piano and watched him, but the gaze felt familiar.
“Okay,” he said and played the opening.
“He’s a fool and don’t I know it,” Posner sang and his voice was just as gorgeous as Scripps had remembered. He wondered absently if Posner has been doing vocal exercises with someone else and an unexpected surge of jealousy flared up.
“I’ll sing to him,” Posner sang on and Scripps looked up briefly and met Posner’s eye. Posner was singing to him, it almost seemed and Scripps fumbled for a second before his fingers found their bearings. He didn’t dare look up again but he couldn’t help it and of course he looked up just to catch Posner singing, “Lost my heart, but what of it? My mistake, I agree.”
He smiled self-deprecatingly at Scripps for a split second and Scripps no longer had any doubt that Posner was singing to him.
“I’ll sing to him, each spring to him,” Posner sang, “And worship the trousers that cling to him...”
Scripps felt the back of his neck heat and knew he was probably blushing bright red at this point. He had seen Posner sing to Dakin, sure, but he never imagined the heady feeling that being the one in the center of all that attention would provoke. He knew why Dakin didn’t discourage it, now.
His fingers kept playing, as if of their own volition until the last chord had faded and Scripps had no choice but to look up at Posner. Posner was looking down at the piano, tracing shapes with his finger in the dust where the sheet hadn’t quite covered the piano. Scripps felt something tighten in his chest.
“Well, I guess we should get back to it,” Scripps said, and though it came out awkward and too bright, Posner merely smiled and nodded.
“I suppose so,” Posner said with a shrug and met Scripps’ eye for the barest of moments before turning and leaving. Scripps pushed in the piano bench and threw the sheet back on before following, humming “bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I,” under his breath.
AN I do think that if Posner was going to romance Scripps, he has enough class to pick a song that he hasn't used to romance his best friend, but at the same time, he wanted it to be something Scripps knew, and so decided on Bewitched.