Fic - Scripps/Posner; In Between Dreams
Title: In Between Dreams
Author: Janne (themadedevil)
Fandom: The History Boys
Pairing: Scripps/Posner
Word Count: 9 333
Summary: This fic follows the progress of Don Scripps and David Posner's relationship during their second year in Oxford.
Rating: PG-15, as I dance around the subject of sex ;)
Author's Notes: This started out as one fic, "Better Together", but quickly evolved into a whole collection of fics, all written based off songs from Jack Johnson's In Between Dreams. The only ones not included are "Belle" and "If I Could".
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
In Between Dreams
Part I:
Never Know
It all happened so much faster than you can say disaster
Want to take a time-lapse and look at it backwards
Find the last word and maybe that's just the answer that we're after
It's barely turned September before Scripps finds Posner outside his door at two am in the morning, out of breath and flushed and on the verge of losing control - at least that's what Scripps thinks is about to happen. He eyes Posner silently and steps aside, letting him inside. He won't turn Posner away when he looks like this even if it is bloody late and he has classes in the morning. Posner must have a reason for having cycled all this way from his college, but Posner makes no move to say why he's here. He merely stares at the picture that Scripps has hanging on the wall, though he's seen it before.
Scripps puts the kettle on and watches as Posner sinks onto his couch, watches how jittery his hands are. Once the tea is done, he pours them both a cup and places it down in front of Posner on the table instead, doesn't trust his friend's unsteady hands. "Right, what's gotten you all worked up?"
Posner gives him a look which seems to ask 'how do you know I'm worked up about anything?' except Scripps only raises an eyebrow in return. Even Felix would see that Posner wasn't okay. "Fine." Posner says, takes a sip of his tea and his shaking hand spills some on his trousers. He hisses, wipes at it and then blurts out: "I slept with Dakin."
Scripps spits his tea out in surprise, making Posner laugh nervously until he's on his feet again. "What?" Scripps asks weakly.
"I slept with Dakin and I didn't enjoy it. I was so sure it was what I wanted, because you know how I love Dakin. Or loved. I guess Oxford has changed me or maybe he changed. Maybe it was never loved, but I ran, Don. I woke up and he was there and I ran. Oh god, I just wanted it to be over and I don't -- I don't know what's going on anymore, Don."
Scripps has no idea what's going on either, tries to sort through what Posner's telling him while he wonders since when he became an expert; he doesn't even wank. "H-how exactly did this happen?" He asks, because he can still hear Dakin telling him that he'd never even kiss Posner, something Scripps never had the heart to tell him.
"I don't know!" Posner all but wails, wrings his hand and then rubs somewhat furiously at the tea stain on his trousers. "It just did. I mean, I borrowed a book to Dakin at the beginning of term and he never returned it, so I figured I should go and get it from him. But when he opened the door, he just pulled me inside and kissed me! And then things just -- escalated and I tried stopping it, because something didn't feel right, but before I know it, I wake up and I came here." Posner glances up at him, worry and panic and helplessness practically carved into his features.
"You tried stopping it?" Scripps repeats and Posner nods his head, no longer looking at him. "Pos--David, he didn't--didn't, you know, did he?"
"What? No!" Posner looks horrified and Scripps breathes with relief. He has a lot of thoughts about Dakin when it comes to things like this, but that was not one of them. "It didn't feel right, but it was still -- still sex, you know?"
"I'm celibate, remember?" Scripps remarks wryly and the corners of Posner's lips curl up slightly.
"But still, surely you must understand at least some of what I'm saying?"
"Maybe you were confusing your love for Dakin with your love for somebody else." Scripps suggests, and then adds, in case Posner should feel the need to, "But what do I know about love?"
"At the moment, I think anybody would know more about love than I do." Posner says, and drinks his tea with a suddenly sturdy hand. "Maybe I loved Dakin because I was so sure that with him, nothing would ever happen and so I'd have nothing to worry about."
"You went through a lot of humiliation and jokes for nothing, if that's true." Scripps remarks and yawns.
"Yes, I suppose I did." Posner says, puts his tea down and suddenly seems to notice the time as he flushes embarrassed. "I should get back."
"Sleep here," Scripps offers, yawning again. "It's too late for you to be cycling back. What's your first lesson?"
Posner's face becomes one of fierce concentration for a moment, before he rubs the heel of his hands tiredly against his eyes. "I can't remember."
"Then you won't mind missing it. Sleep here for tonight, Posner, I'll go get you a pillow."
"Thanks, Don." Posner says and smiles gratefully up at him.
"I'll expect breakfast in the morning," Scripps replies and goes to fetch Posner a pillow and a blanket.
Part II:
Staple It Together
If the weather gets better we should get together
Spend a little time or we could do whatever
The sun is surprisingly warm for the middle of October, and Scripps can't help but find it a little childish that on a day like this, he's lying in the middle of a field with his jacket bunched up like a pillow underneath his head, while Posner is sitting leaned against a tree nearby. It's enjoyable, though a bit chilly and Scripps is sure that the rest will be arriving any minute now to ruin the peace of the moment. Posner is singing silently to himself, by all appearances enjoying the sunshine as much as Scripps does.
It's been a while since they've been alone like this, since that night in Scripps' room, actually. He rolls his head to the side and fixes his gaze on Posner. "How're things with Dakin?"
Posner's eyes shoot open in surprise, blinking rapidly before focusing on Scripps. "I've not spoken with him. I'm a little ashamed to admit that I've been hiding with Akthar, or at Akthar's, in any case." Scripps chuckles. "Why, has Dakin said anything?"
"No." Scripps lies, because Dakin has. Dakin had appeared the day after Posner and demanded to know what was so bloody wrong with him that apparently even Posner, who had been professing his love for over a year, didn't want to stick around. Scripps had been less consoling with Dakin than he had been with Posner, because privately he thought it good of Posner to get out of it. There had never been much hope for the two of them, even when it had just been Posner with his childish crush.
"Great," Posner says with a dramatic sigh and closes his eyes again. "I've always fancied being someone's dirty little secret. Not hardly as pleasing as I thought it would be."
"I'm sure Dakin doesn't see you as his dirty little secret." Scripps protests, except that's most likely exactly what Dakin thinks about the whole thing. "The circumstances must've had a say in things, at most he'll just consider it a stupid mistake."
"What do you mean, 'the circumstances'?" Posner asks, eyes open and scrutinizing Scripps.
"Well, apparently Irwin met someone." Scripps says after a while, cracking under the pressure of Posner's gaze.
"Oh, lovely." Posner says weakly, closes his eyes again and his whole posture slumps. "So I slept with Dakin because he wanted to show Irwin that their screwed up relationship never mattered."
"You can hardly call their relationship more screwed up than the one you had with him." Scripps feels the need to point out, because Dakin is still one of his best friends.
"Well, no." Posner admits, doesn't open his eyes again. "But I hardly went and slept with anyone when Irwin came along, did I?"
"I thought you found out that you didn't care about Dakin like that anymore."
"I don't, but I thought you hadn't talked to Dakin about that night." Posner replies with a certain air of aloofness.
Scripps is saved from answering by the arrival of Timms, Chris and Lockwood.
Part III:
Good People
You interrupt me from a friendly conversation
To tell me how great it's all going to be
You might notice some hesitation
Because it's important to you, it's important to me
It's a week after their return to Oxford after Christmas. Oxford has, by now, completely swallowed Scripps and he feels as though he no longer knows why exactly he is there in the first place. The studies aren't all that difficult, certainly he can handle it, but the quantity is enormous and Scripps is fairly certain his room is more of a fire hazard now than a pile of dry hay lying next to an open fire. Though being home for Christmas was pleasant and a break that Scripps had welcomed with enthusiasm, even if his relationship with his parents were strained.
Now, back in his room at Jesus, he gets up from the couch and answers the knock on the door that had interrupted Akthar in mid-sentence. Outside is Posner, who looks...refreshed and rejuvenated. Younger than Scripps can ever remember having seen him, and it's a nice surprise. He'd been surprised when Posner hadn't returned home for Christmas. "Posner!" He greets and steps aside to let him in. "You've got good timing, Akthar is here as well."
Instead Posner shakes his head. "No, I can't come inside. Not with Akthar in there." At Scripps' look, he shakes his head again and laughs slightly. "No, we didn't fight. I just don't want to say this in front of him. Just -- can you step outside so I can talk to you without feeling like he can hear us?"
"Er, sure." Scripps says and steps out into the hall, unsuspecting and curious, as he holds the door almost close behind him. "Well, what is it?" He asks Posner, who is glancing up and down the already established empty corridor.
"I think this is going to be fantastic," Posner whispers, exactly why, Scripps isn't sure. He raises an eyebrow in question. "This thing with me not loving Dakin. It's going to be fantastic - I think sleeping with him really solved a few things -- might be one of the best things I've done, though for different reasons than what I originally thought. But I've really gotten thinking, Scripps, and you were right. I never loved Dakin, well, I did. But not completely, not mind, body and soul. Just curiosity and the need to figure myself out." Posner lets the words out in one great rush, barely stopping to breathe and he looks so very alive right there and then that Scripps takes a mental snapshot to save for bad days. "And you helped, and so I just wanted you to know, I think my life will be great if I don't love Dakin anymore."
It is such a weird confession that Scripps just stares at him silently for a moment, unsure on how to reply or how to act, because this doesn't seem real or likely or logical. He blinks at Posner, before finding his voice. "Is that it?" The question isn't the one that he really wants to ask, but it comes out anyway and he watches as Posner turns confused and insecure as he nods. "Right. Sure you don't want to join Akthar and me for tea?"
Posner looks shocked and hurt and a mix of nearly everything, and Scripps feels a bit guilty for doing that to him, but he steps back inside his room and bids him goodbye, before shutting the door and wondering what made him think that would be a good thing to do.
Part IV:
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
Well if I was in your position
I'd put down all my ammunition
I'd wonder why it had taken me so long
"Come on, Posner," Scripps tells the door and knocks his knuckles against it again. "I know you're in there, because I saw you through the window and you can't move that quickly, no matter how small you are. You can't hide from me forever, you know."
"Why not?" Comes the remark from the other side of the door, sounding rebellious and challenging. "It worked well enough for my family during the Second World War, didn't it?"
Scripps sighs and bangs his head against Posner's room door, because his reaction last week must've really stung Posner if he's willing to make remarks like this to try and defend his actions. "Listen, okay? I'm sorry I didn't say what you apparently wanted to hear, because I can't do this. I -- just, let me in, will you? I don't want to shout this through a door, unless you want everyone to know about it. That's how rumors start."
The door opens and reveals Posner wearing what Scripps always thinks of as 'gym clothes', he smirks but doesn't comment as he steps inside. He files it away for teasing later, but for now he doesn't want to antagonize Posner any further. "How did you want me to react?" Scripps asks, once Posner has taken a seat by his desk, although he won't look at Scripps. "You don't love Dakin, great. I always doubted you really did, anyway. I never thought him the guy you'd fall for, should you fall for any guy. But what does it have got to do with me? I'm glad I helped you realize you were just being silly when it came to Dakin, because when you're at Oxford the last thing you need is unrequited love." Scripps is talking to Posner's lamp more than he is to Posner, and it's an interesting lamp too. Frilly and a constant source of mockery from their old Oxbridge group, but it isn't too bad and it lights up the room nicely. Scripps vaguely recalls Posner defending the lamp by saying it was a gift from his mother, apparently a prized family artifact and probably the source of much Posner family history. Scripps find himself wondering exactly how old that lamp is when Posner speaks, except Posner isn't speaking to him, but to the same lamp that Scripps is studying.
"Maybe I was being silly with Dakin, but I thought you -- well, even if you didn't know how it felt, at least you understood. I always thought you'd understand anything, no matter how complex or how confusing it was, just because you try. Except I'm not so sure anymore. Do you understand, Scripps? Do you understand this thing I thought I felt for Dakin?"
Scripps breaks the staring contest that he's losing with the frilly lamp and looks directly into Posner's eyes. "Not entirely," He says slowly, "But I think I know some of it. I don't know love, but I do certainly know lust and affection and desire. I think perhaps you mistook lust for love, which is probably why your bubble burst the way it did when Dakin decided to sleep with you."
Posner breaks the eye contact first, looks back at the frilly lamp with a small frown on his face. "If you're celibate," he says slowly to the lamp, which suddenly gives Scripps the rather alarming mental image of the frilly lamp checking out another, uglier lamp. He rubs at his eyes and thinks he should take a break from coffee and studying. "Then how do you deal with lust and affection and desire?"
Scripps gives Posner an amused look and shrugs. "I study and read and pray, I guess. Like the monks at that monastery."
Posner grins, "Yeah, but those monks ended up bunking up with each other."
"At one point or another, I will undoubtedly end up bunking up with someone." Scripps replies, relaxes because they seem to be okay now, which means he can go back to studies and his room which now never stops smelling of caffeine. "We're okay?"
"Yes, Don, we're okay." Posner says with a smile, and shuts off the frilly lamp which casts them into a darker light, but Scripps can still see everything perfectly. He gets to his feet and heads for the door, his head bowed as he smiles. "Hey, Don?"
"Yes, Pos?"
"When you said that you never thought Dakin was the kind of guy I'd fall for, who did you think I would fall for?" Posner asks, and Scripps stiffens as he pauses with his hand hovering over the doorknob. He turns his head to look at Posner, his mouth suddenly dry.
"I'd have hoped it'd be someone like me." Scripps says and hurries out the door.
Part V:
Situations
Situation number three
It's the one that no one sees
It's all too often dismissed as fate
It takes Posner three days, seven hours and thirty seconds to show up on Scripps' door. Scripps has been counting and worrying and being completely horrified at himself for saying something like that to Posner. He had barely been aware of it until he'd said it, but during those three days, seven hours and thirty seconds, Scripps has had a lot of time to think and the conclusion he has reached is final and scary and thrilling, all at once.
He has a crush on Posner. He can't even begin to guess when it started, because he's known Posner nearly all his life and he's taken everything about Posner in his stride. When Posner had gone through a rather, at the time, alarming Doctor Who phase, Scripps had willingly let himself be sat down to watch re-runs with him and participated in the discussion about the Doctor, even though he had personally never liked the show much. When he'd turned up on Posner's doorstep to hear Posner singing in the living room, he'd taken up the piano to give Posner's voice music which made it sound so beautiful that Scripps sometimes wished that they would never have to stop. When Posner had decided that he loved Dakin, Scripps had been the first to know, the first to laugh and the first to be forgiven for thinking that Posner was taking the piss.
They'd been together through most things, despite their age gap. When Scripps decided to really give religion a try, he'd find Posner waiting outside the church every Sunday with a bag filled with a snack of some sort, and they'd cycle to the nearest field and lie in the grass. If it was raining, Posner would still show up, standing under the roof by the entrance to the church and on those days they'd end up in one or the other's room.
Scripps has been thinking a lot about time spent with Posner up through the years during those three days, seven hours and thirty seconds. Reliving the happy times when Posner didn't have silly ideas about love in his head and before the whole Oxbridge insanity started, when he really should have been studying for his classes.
But it isn't love. Scripps knows that, knows that it would take more than just those moments spent with Posner as a friend and classmate, for what he feels towards Posner to be love. Time and closeness and for things between them to be mutual. Scripps thinks that he doesn't have the time to feel unrequited love or love at all, certainly not while he is at Oxford. No, this thing he feels for Posner... it's a crush. It's desire and affection and the perplexing need to make him happy.
There's a knock on his door; three days, seven hours and thirty seconds since Scripps told Posner he had hoped it would be him that Posner would fall for. Scripps answers it after considering for a moment the benefits of pretending that he isn't home, except if it really is Posner standing outside, then Scripps wants -- no, needs -- to know what Posner has to say. It's alarming that he doesn't care whether Posner will deliver an apology ("I really don't think we'd be good together--") or confusion ("Did you mean what you said?") or even pretending like it never happened ("Hallo Scripps, fancy a cup of tea?"), because he just needs Posner to say something. Anything.
He opens the door and stares at the soaked form of Posner -- he hasn't even noticed that it's raining outside -- who stares right back at Scripps. Posner lifts his chin up a bit higher, to regain some of the dignity he's lost by looking like a drowned cat, and takes Scripps' face between his cold, wet hands before pressing their lips together. Scripps backs a bit into his room, doesn't fancy his entire college knowing about this thing -- whatever it was or is or is about to become -- with Posner. Once the door is closed behind Posner, he finally lets go of Scripps' face and steps back, eyes inquisitive as he looks at Scripps.
"Do you still hope I'll fall for you?" Posner asks, lips red and slightly swollen and Scripps feels slightly dizzy as he nods and watches the brilliant smile that breaks out on Posner's face, mirroring it with one of his own.
Part VI:
Constellations
Listen to all translations
Of the stories across the sky
We drew our own constellations
"Won't anyone spot us?" Posner asks silently from where his head is resting on Scripps' chest. Scripps smiles in the dark, arm around Posner's shoulder as they lie in the middle of the field that has become a regular meeting place for the Oxbridge set. It's nearly midnight in the beginning of March and they are about to start in on their second month as a couple. Scripps is alarmed at how little has really changed from before and now, because they still go about their routines and can have long conversations about everything between heaven and hell, and their friends are really none the wiser. The only real difference, Scripps thinks, is the fact that they're using every excuse in the book to flex their routines to see each other and that after those long conversations, they usually end up kissing.
Certainly they've got to be more careful around everyone, even if Scripps personally feels that Posner could spend less time being so close to Akthar, though they've always been close and so he likes to think that he understands why Posner is so accepting of Akthar's attention. Certainly Dakin talks more to Scripps and Lockwood than the others, because even though they like being together in one huge group, they always end up dividing themselves one way or another.
Now, it's entirely peaceful with just Scripps and Posner lying beneath the stars, and Scripps realizes that this is the first time he's had his arm around Posner in public. Not in the same way that they occasionally sling an arm around the other's shoulder, like they're mates, but really holding Posner close to him with his arm. It sparks something giddy and warm low in Scripps' stomach which spreads, until he gets the impulse to press a kiss on Posner's head. "No, they won't spot us. It's too late."
Posner hums his appreciation at this fact, hand under Scripps' shirt and stroking gently over his skin in a way that has Scripps feeling a bit light-headed as he concentrates on breathing. Scripps uses the hand currently not holding Posner firmly against him to tilt Posner's chin up to press their lips together.
It's a rather sloppy kiss, the angle too awkward to make it a good one and Scripps' mouth is only covering half of Posner's, their noses squished together almost painfully, but Posner still gives a small sigh in his throat. Scripps isn't quite sure who makes the first move, but suddenly Posner is straddling Scripps, sitting upright for a moment to stare down at Scripps with a half-lidded gaze before he kisses Scripps again.
This is one of the thing that Scripps never thought he'd be doing any time soon since he decided for celibacy, one thing that Posner seems to hold great respect for. It's always just kisses, kisses that have , Scripps can’t help but acknowledge, gone more and more horizontal as the weeks went by, but still just kisses. If Posner would like something more, he has yet to bring it up with Scripps and though Scripps privately thinks that being celibate while being with Posner will result in his death, he's grateful.
When Posner eventually pulls back, cold air rushes in between their parted lips and they both breathe it in, Scripps sees the stars before he focuses on Posner. "Remember when we learned the constellations?" He asks, stroking one hand down Posner's back and making him shiver.
"That night --"
"With the --"
"Ah! -- and the --"
"When you --"
"No, that was you. I --"
"Oh, yes, now I remember, you --"
"Oh, shut up." Posner sniffs and kisses him again, which Scripps can't complain against. It's another few moments before Posner pulls back again, and Scripps seems unable to stop his hand from stroking up and down Posner's back. "Why were you bringing that night up anyway?"
Scripps 'hmms’ for a moment, kissing the skin under Posner's ear. "I thought perhaps we should learn some new ones." Scripps replies, enjoying the suddenly shy expression on Posner's face as he realizes what Scripps is getting at. He watches, fascinated, as Posner's tongue darts out to wet at his lips.
"What, here? Now?" Posner asks, still looking shy and a little surprised.
Scripps nods, running his hands down Posner's sides before slipping them under Posner's shirt and repeating the action. "There's no one about to catch us," Scripps points out, whispering and Posner shivers again before he presses kisses up Scripps' neck until he eventually reaches Scripps' lips. Scripps sighs happily and closes his eyes against the moon and starlight.
Part VII:
No Other Way
We don't really need to find reason
Because out the same door that it came, well it's leaving
When Posner's dad dies only two weeks before the summer holidays, Scripps immediately offers to come with him back to Sheffield for the funeral. Posner looks at him as though he has two heads, except Scripps needs to do something for Posner, and it made sense to offer company to the funeral.
"You can't, Don." Posner said quietly, curled up beside Scripps with tears probably still in his eyes. "Think how odd it'll look, if you came along. My mother would certainly piece things together, and Akthar and Dakin and the others would figure things out as well. I'll only be home for a few days, three at the most. I'll be fine." Scripps doubted just how fine Posner would be, but he kept quiet and pressed his lips against Posner's head.
Posner left the next day, and Scripps focuses on his classes and studies, eating dinner with Dakin one day and visiting Lockwood for tea another. He keeps busy to keep his mind of Posner and the funeral; which is increasingly hard to do because Posner has become nearly all that he thinks about.
It's nearly eleven when Posner shows up outside his door, looking tired and worn and still sad. He stumbles more than walks into Scripps' arms, resting his head against Scripps' shoulder and sighing. "I wish I agreed to take you with me.. It wouldn't have been so horrible then." Posner whispers into Scripps' shoulder as Scripps leads him slowly into the bedroom, where Posner just curls up next to him once they're on the bed.
"How was Sheffield?" Scripps asks into the silence of the dark room, holding Posner close and breathing in the scent that is so positively Posner. "I missed not having you around."
"Sheffield was like Sheffield always is," Posner says with a sigh, "I felt bad for my mother, she wasn't prepared for it. Neither was I, but she's all alone with the house now. I think she's going to sell it, she can't take care of the house on her own and I can't help, can't go home to take care of her and the garden and everything dad used to do." Scripps is stroking Posner's side, offering all the silent comfort he can.
"I thought that house had belonged to your family for a while." Scripps replies, shifts out of Posner's embrace momentarily to undress and Posner follows his example, stripping down until they're in their boxers before lying back on the bed, back in their previous embrace.
"It has. My dad grew up in it, but it's a big house. I can understand why she'd want to sell it." Posner says, but he doesn't sound like he understands at all.
"Have you slept much the past days?" Scripps asks, giving Posner a way-out from the subject and feels Posner relax against him, pressing a kiss to Scripps' shoulder.
"No, I've been thinking too much." Posner replies quietly.
"Then sleep now," Scripps suggests and Posner nods once, before they fall asleep.
When Scripps wakes in the morning, Posner is already up and coming out of the bathroom and Scripps uses the opportunity to study him from head to toe. The trip home to attend his father's funeral has definitely taken it's toll on Posner, but still, Scripps supposes, he could be looking worse.
"I think you can sleep for one more hour, Don." Posner says, locating his clothes and pulling the jeans on. "I just need to get back to my room before classes, I can't risk being late. Not after all the classes I've missed." Scripps sits up and nods, watches Posner's body as he dresses.
"Are you coming over later?" He asks and hides a yawn behind his hand. "Or shall I come to you?"
"I think Akthar's going to come over tonight, now that I'm back." Posner says, pausing in the act of pulling his shirt on to lean across the bed and kiss Scripps apologetically. "But tomorrow, I promise. We'll spend some time."
"It'd all be easier if you'd just have applied to Jesus," Scripps drawls with a smile on his face, to which Posner just grins.
"You should have come with that suggestion earlier." Posner replies and stuffs his tie into the bag. "I'll see you tomorrow, Don." Posner says, leans over the bed again and presses his lips softly against Scripps'.
"See you, David." Scripps replies, lying back on the bed as Posner leaves, although he can suddenly hear Posner's rather loud dying noise from the hallway and all of a sudden he can hear Posner go 'Dakin!' in a faked, shrill voice most likely intended to warn Scripps. It does the job.
He tries to make the side of bed that Posner slept in look less slept in and throws on a t-shirt before going into the hallway where Dakin has practically cornered Posner against the wall, one hand blocking Posner's escape route.
"What were you doing in there?" Dakin asks, eyebrow raised. "I thought you were back in Sheffield."
"I c--came back really late last night and Scripps said I could crash the night." Posner says, fidgets with his bag and looks up as Scripps appears.
"Morning, Dakin." Scripps says, leaning against the door to his room. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see if you'd like some breakfast," Dakin says, shoving off the wall and giving Posner the exit he wants. "Except I saw our friend, Pos, here and I take it you already had breakfast." Dakin eyes Scripps' sleep-rumbled appearance and smirks. "But maybe not."
"I'm eating back at Magdalen," Posner says, holds his bag a little higher like a sort of shield against Dakin. Scripps smirks. "I just couldn't bother to go back last night."
"You'd better get going," Scripps tells Posner pointedly, and Posner nods, tells them both goodbye and practically runs down the hall to the exit. The main doors close shut behind Posner and Dakin walks calmly into Scripps' room, needing no invitation. He glances out the window for a moment, before turning and staring at Scripps.
"You're sleeping with Posner."
Part VIII:
Breakdown
But you can't stop nothing if you got no control
Of the thoughts in your mind that you kept and you know
that you don't know nothing but you don't need to know
Dakin can't keep his mouth shut. Scripps shouldn't be surprised, because there's very little that Dakin really can keep quiet about, especially if he's in a mood. Discovering the fact that Scripps was in a relationship, had been for nearly five months, with Posner definitely set Dakin in a mood. They'd had a row about it, which Scripps only realized until much later was actually mostly about why Scripps had never even thought of mentioning to Dakin that he was a, as Dakin had put it though not as bad as he could have, bloody fag. Scripps thinks perhaps this is why. He's supposed to be the religious one, the one with control and a clear head.
He refuses to let what Dakin says get to him, isn't stupid enough to fall for it, because he likes what he has with Posner. It feels right, something that fits into his life, even though he had thought that he wouldn't be ready for a relationship with anyone until after Oxford, at least.
It isn't until they're on the train back to Sheffield that he's really aware that they all know about Posner and him. Posner had told him that Akthar knew about them, and he had his suspicions about how much of a mood Dakin was in really. But no one had approached him or questioned him, and so he'd assumed that maybe Dakin is better at keeping some things quiet than Scripps gave him credit for.
But when he walks on board the train to Sheffield and sits down with them, Lockwood and Timms immediately hold their thumbs up toward him while they look as though they're about to start laughing. Rudge gives him a small, careful smile and continues reading the golf magazine in his hands. Dakin smirks at him, not exactly kindly, while Posner looks up from talking to Akthar, flashing him a bright smile before looking mildly amused at Akthar's story. Scripps puts his bag in the overhead compartment and moves to sit next to Crowther, though he stops as Crowther puts his own bag rather pointedly in the empty seat.
The others stop talking and Crowther doesn't look up from his book, but Scripps gets the message clear as day. Not looking at the others, he easily turns and sits in a seat further back. Posner is eyeing him with concern and Scripps gives a small smile to show that he's okay, before looking out the window.
He's still religious, he thinks. He has to be, because being religious is part of what he is. But then, apparently being gay (for Posner, Posner and only Posner) seems to be a part of what he is as well. He wonders if it should be possible to be both, seems odd because he's heard priests and other Christians talk about how you can't be religious if you're gay. Not a true Christian. It panics Scripps, he hates to admit it. Something icy seems to grip him, because he has to be religious still.
It isn't until he realizes that he's barely prayed since Posner kissed him, that he truly panics. He doesn't panic so that the others can see, but suddenly that realization makes him aware of so many thoughts he's been unaware of until now. What is it he thinks he's doing? This thing with Posner...how could it possibly last?
By the time they reach Sheffield, his whole body is tense and his head is swimming with thoughts about why this is wrong, why he's been so stupid to fall for it, for getting involved. He remembers the time when they were all getting together great, when they could all talk more or less freely toward one another. They don't have that now, Scripps realizes. They're being careful about what they're saying, and he isn't quite sure he likes it.
He isn't even sure about what he's doing, but they all tumble off the train, most of them are laughing, only Scripps has his eyes focused intently on Posner as he reaches out and grabs him by the elbow, holding him back from the group. Posner looks at him, questioning, but Scripps refuses to meet his gaze. Doesn't trust himself to.
"I can't do this, Pos. I just can't." Scripps whispers and as the silence stretches, he eventually runs to keep up with the others before Posner can say anything to question him or change his mind. As he walks away, he tells himself it's for the best.
By the time he's home, he believes it.
Part IX:
Crying Shame
Close my mind be alone
I could close my heart and not care
But gravity has got a hold on us all
Scripps finds it surprising that it takes him a month before he truly realizes what he's done. He's been spending time in church, praying more than ever, and then suddenly Scripps feels sick and wrong and he has a hard time walking out of the church. He walks quickly toward where Posner lives, feels sicker and sicker with every step. He can't believe that it's taken him this long to realize how foolish he's been, how stupid. Posner. Posner. David. He's lost David Posner, and that thought scares him more than any other. It grips his stomach with an icy hand and twists his insides.
He runs the last few steps to Posner's house, jumps over the fence and almost runs through the door, but at the last minute he stops and knocks, breathes deep as though that will somehow slow time down or make it go faster. He isn't sure what he wants to happen, but when the door opens, he certainly isn't expecting the unknown girl.
"Hallo," she says brightly when Scripps can't form a sentence because his brain is still thinking about Posner and he can't understand what this girl is doing here. "Who are you?"
"Scripps," Scripps replies, out-of-breath and still surprised. "Posner -- David Posner, doesn't he live here?"
The girl shrugs and looks disappointed that Scripps hadn't come for her - he doesn't even know who she is, but Scripps can't let himself be bothered about that right now. "I moved here two weeks ago. Maybe he lived here before that." The girl says, smiles as though she's sorry about something, but he isn't entirely sure what she has to be sorry about. "Don't know where he moved though. Oh, can you wait a minute?"
Scripps nods, though he doesn't think he can. He wonders how fantastically mad Posner must be at him, to not even inform him that he's moved. He stares into the hall that once belonged to the Posners, where he had gone to visit Posner weekly since...since they were little, and his mother had to walk him to the house, just to be sure that he didn't get lost on the way. The girl returns and holds a book out to him. "I think your friend David left this here. If you see him, give it to him, will you?"
Scripps takes the book and feels as though she slapped him, because he remembers giving this book to Posner for his birthday earlier that year. "I will, ta." He tells her, tries to give her a small smile, before he's running away from the house that seems so strange without Posner, to find Akthar. He gets down the street before he has to stop and sit down, nausea rising strong in his stomach. He hadn't expected to react like this, because he wasn't supposed to get this involved with Posner. He's in over his head, because Posner is his friend more than a lover, because they've been friends since they could barely walk and Scripps threw it away. He's on his feet again, decides that the nausea can't be all that bad, that it's nothing compared to the loss of Posner.
Akthar isn't all that hard to find and Scripps isn't slow to notice that he doesn't look all that happy to see him. Scripps can't blame him and wonders if there's anyone right now who would be happy to see him. "Pos told me I might be seeing you," Akthar says conversationally and gives him a searching look. "You don't look too good."
"I need to talk to him." Scripps says, voice unstable because this is all getting too much. He's clutching the book given to him, knuckles going white. "Where is he?" When Akthar doesn't look as though he's about to say anything, Scripps nearly drops to his knees. "Please, Akthar... I-I need to talk to him. I need to put it right."
Akthar looks at the book that Scripps is clutching like a life-line, shakes his head and sighs. "His mum got a place near Grimesthorpe. Hang on." Akthar says, opens his bag and brings out a pen before taking Scripps' hand and writing the address down on the back of it. "There. Now you'll at least feel fucking guilty if you chicken out." Akthar says when he's done, and Scripps feels the knot in his stomach loosen some.
"I won't, I, oh god, I don't know what came over me." Scripps says and stares at the address at the back of his hand, when he looks up, Akthar is looking at him funny.
"I think I know what came over you, Scripps." Akthar says, getting to his feet, wiping his hand on his pants and looking Scripps directly in the eye. "Reality did. Doesn't mean I like what you did to him, though. You should know that he's not exactly the toughest of men."
Scripps can't help but think that he isn't either.
Part X:
Banana Pancakes
I love to lay here lazy
We could close the curtains
Pretend like there's no world outside
Scripps feels dizzy and drunk and giddy. It's nearly the beginning of August and Scripps finally, finally wakes up with an armful of Posner. He's missed it, the feeling of Posner lying next to him with his head resting on Scripps' chest, their feet entangled and this presence of definite heat that comes from him. Scripps closes his eyes and savors it, tries to remember how this feels. Just in case. Just in case.
It had taken him more than a week before Posner had caved in enough to talk to him, more than the words the slammed door had conveyed. Scripps had kept the book for three days, reading through it and writing notes in the margin - in pen, not caring that Posner might throw a fit about it. He posted it and hoped Posner would read it, not throw it away like it seemed he wanted to. A week of getting Posner to talk to him again, a day of apologizing and explaining, and then suddenly his parents had decided to take a trip up North, putting the repairing relationship on hold.
Posner stirs and Scripps knows he's waking up, so he opens his eyes and looks down, just as Posner moves his head up and kisses him softly. "I -- I thought I hated you." Posner says quietly, supporting his chin on Scripps' chest, somewhat painfully.
"That's a lovely thing to hear first thing in the morning," Scripps drawls, raising an eyebrow. Posner blushes, just barely.
"I know a man that's a braver man/ And twenty men as kind, / And what are you, that you should be / The one man in my mind?" Posner recites, voice low and his breath ghosts over Scripps' chest, making him shiver.
"I'm sorry," Scripps says, certainly not for the first time and kisses Posner's mouth, pulling back only to see him grinning at him. "What?"
"I'll bring it up a lot more if you keep doing that every time I say it." Posner says, grins a bit too cockily and so Scripps merely kisses him again, to get rid of it, because it reminds him a bit of Dakin. It takes a while before Posner moves, getting to his knees on the mattress and sliding one foot to the floor of his room. Scripps leans up and slides an arm around Posner, tugging him down and keeping him in the bed with him. "My mother will be back soon." Posner whispers half-heartedly, though he snuggles closer - not that it's possible - and Scripps smiles.
"Not yet though," Scripps whispers back and Posner glances at the clock by his bed, before admitting she probably won't be back from the visit to his aunt for another hour or two. "Good," Scripps says, flips them so that Posner isn't lying half on top of him anymore, more like curled up in each other's arms, and rests his head against Posner's shoulder.
He feels Posner placing a kiss on his head and hears his half-hearted protest that it'll be too risky to go back to sleep, that his mother might walk in on them and won't that be the icing on the cake that has been this dramatic summer, but Scripps doesn't want to leave the bed. He doesn't want to no longer feel Posner in his arms and so he pretends he can't hear.
He doesn't appreciate it when they wake up to the sound of Posner's mother calling for him and Posner decides it's safest if he just shoves Scripps into the closet with his clothes to get dressed, but he figures since it's probably his fault they fell asleep again, he deserves it.
He steps into the kitchen downstairs, smirking, just to be safe.
Part XI:
Better Together
Love is the answer at least for most of the questions in my heart
Why are we here? And where do we go? And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy and sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together
It's a cold August night when Scripps suddenly gets an urge to ask. It's inexplicable, this sudden urge to ask Posner of something they've quietly agreed to never speak of; an area between them that can only be accessed, only be spoken about when everyone is gathered and likely to tease Posner about it. But Posner is curled up beside Scripps on the couch, a position that Scripps always thinks will make them end up on the floor from too little space, but it works and it's oddly comfortable to have Posner lying in his embrace like this, letting Scripps read his book while his head rests on Posner's, and Posner is reading as well, but he's holding it with one hand while the other alternates between stroking Scripps' arm and turning the page.
He isn't quite sure what makes him ruin the moment, but suddenly he can't focus on his book anymore and it tumbles out. "Do you still think about Dakin?"
Posner stiffens in Scripps' arms, putting his book down and recoiling completely, to the other side of the couch. "What kind of question is that?"
It isn't what Scripps wanted, and so his reply comes out harsher than what he means. "What kind of question does it sound like?"
Posner flinches, and Scripps feels a small pang of guilt. "It sounds," Posner replies, tone measured. "As though you're asking me if I still love Dakin."
"Do you?"
"No." Posner says and doesn't take his eyes off Scripps. "I have none of those feelings for him anymore. A distant memory. You should know that." Though it can't be that distant, Scripps reasons, as they're only about to start their third year.
"So, what was he? A forerunner?"
"I suppose, yes." Posner clutches the book to his chest, but his eyes won't leave Scripps.
"What am I, then? A forerunner as well?" Scripps asks, except he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to ruin this thing with Posner, still new because they've barely been together like this for a year. Everything's new and he doesn't want to wreck it, except that seems to be exactly what he's doing. Posner is silent for a long while and just looks at him, gaze intense. Scripps thinks he's never seen Posner more unnerving.
"Perhaps," he says at last and Scripps feels his heart relocate to his stomach. "Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness that sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond each other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow that turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us."
"That's from Evelyn Waugh." Scripps says after the words have hung in the air, still heavy. "You recommended that book to me during our first week at here."
"I did." Posner says, the corners of his lips lift, so shy and pleased that Scripps remembers.
"So is Dakin your Sebastian and I your Julia?"
"No, Don." Posner says, leans forward and places his arms on either side of Scripps' body, hovering in the air above him, eyes intense and focused. "You're everything. Do you realize I can't close my eyes without seeing your face? It's rather infuriating. Here we are, about to launch into our last year at Oxford, and all I can think about is you. First thing I think about when I wake up and last thing I think about when I go to sleep. You're everything and I love you and I mean that, I really do." Posner says it all so slowly, stopping for agonizing long periods of time after every sentence. Now he leans down and presses his lips against Scripps', so soft and careful and Scripps feels like such an arse. He wraps his arms around Posner's waist, and Posner gives up on supporting himself up as Scripps whispers 'I'm sorry' against his lips and hopes that Posner gets the message.
It takes a while before they break apart, breathing a bit heavily and smiling foolishly at each other. "I love you too, David." Scripps says, feels silly and euphoric, because this is the first time they've said it. Posner hums happily, kisses him again.
"There was easier ways to make me tell you that I love you, you know." Posner says a while later, when they're doing nothing but lying on the couch and enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together.
Scripps is nearly asleep, but he manages to retort with a nearly unintelligible 'really?'
"Oh yes," Posner says and he sounds sleepy as well. "For example, you could have said it first. Or you could have cooked me dinner or maybe just moved us from the couch to your bed, for once, without me prompting it."
Scripps harrumphs a laugh, "Doesn't sound much like me."
"No," Posner says with a content sigh, "I suppose not."
Scripps isn't sure when exactly they fall asleep, or how they manage to on the small couch, but it doesn't take long before they do.
Part XII:
Do You Remember
Do you remember when we first moved in together?
The piano took up the living room
You played me boogie-woogie, I played you love songs
"It looks good," Posner says as they stand in the doorway and look out over the new apartment, about to start in on their third year at Oxford. The decision to get an apartment together had been rather spontaneous, with neither of them looking forward to another year of having to deal with the distance between their colleges. Scripps had been the one to bring up the subject of an apartment, like a foolish dream that they couldn't reach, either due to lack of money to buy one or because they've been so late to think of it. It's luck that made them stumble upon the apartment, once they had returned back to Oxford from Sheffield. Someone had decided against the apartment at the last minute and the tenant had been more than happy to accept when Posner and Scripps turned up, interested and able to afford it, the will of Posner's father having left Posner with a larger sum than Posner had obviously expected.
Now, they've got everything moved in, the only problem, Scripps thinks, is that their living room seems to be too small. "It looks like we arranged our furniture in a way that'd give us the most exercise." Scripps replies, tries to figure out a way to get from the bedroom to the kitchen that doesn't involve climbing over or going under the piano. Neither of them are quite sure how they came into possession of the piano, though suddenly they had one and neither thought it proper to complain. Posner presses past him into the room and sits down in front the piano, brushing a light hand over it for a moment, before suddenly the apartment is filled with the notes to Pinetop's Boogie Woogie. He laughs at that, hadn't expected Posner to know it, especially not on the piano.
Scripps isn't sure whether it's the notes or the relief of finally having moved in or if it's simply Posner, but he pretends to dance while Posner plays, their roles reversed for a moment. Posner is laughing, nearly missing the keys as he looks at Scripps. It doesn't take long before Scripps collapses on the piano bench next to Posner, laughing, as Posner plays the last few notes. "Budge over," Scripps tells him and Posner does, just barely so that he's pressed firmly against Scripps' side. Once Scripps starts playing, Posner straightens up and squirms on the small space left on the bench, before joining in with his voice.
"I've got the world on a string/ I'm sitting on a rainbow/ I got that string around my finger/ What a world, what a life - I'm in love." Posner sings and Scripps does his best to keep himself solely focused on playing. He can remember the times when they were practicing, back in Sheffield, when Posner thought it would be clever of him to serenade Dakin and Scripps had gone along with it, an equal mix of amusement and curiosity stopping him from telling Posner it would hardly do anyone any good. When it was just the two of them in Hector's classroom or occasionally in the auditorium or at Posner's house. Nothing but them and the music. Posner's voice always had been amazing, something that was easy to listen to, even if Posner was mad. They'd all expected it to drop dramatically as years passed, but it never did. It dropped, certainly, but it is still easy to listen to, amazing to listen to when Posner decides to sing, though he rarely does it without the piano accompanying him.
Posner elbows Scripps him lightly in the side, because he's failed to notice that the song is over and that he's sitting still, just staring as he thinks. He turns towards Posner, who is smiling as though he has an idea about what exactly Scripps has been thinking about. "I don't suppose the extra exercise we'll get from trying to navigate around the piano is such a bad thing." Scripps says, grinning back at Posner.
"No, I don't think it will be," Posner agrees, "at least we have a piano."
Scripps merely nods his agreement to that and moves to kiss him.
Notes:
Poem quoted by Posner in part X is The Philosopher by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
The gobbet from part XI is from Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh.
Pinetop's Boogie Woogie was composed by Cleo Brown in 1928. (here performed by Silvan Zingg)
I've Got the World on a String was composed by Harold Arlen in 1933. (here performed by Michael Buble)