Daniel Charleton University, Part 2
Title: Daniel Charleton University
Summary: AU. No superpowers, no saving the world from alien invasion. Just a college, students, and one young man's attempts to win his clueless classmate's affections.
Rating: G (so far)
Word count: 3147
A/N: This part includes the snippet I posted back in June. It's been edited a very little bit, so there isn't really much new.
This part jumps around a lot. Mostly unconnected scenes of Life in College.
Part 1
Part 2
Ted lounged on the sofa with Michael, watching television. As the female lead stripped down for the requisite shower scene, Ted snuck a glance at Michael. He looked bored. That was good. Ted still wasn’t completely certain which way Michael swung. Michael hadn’t given him many clues either way. Ted nudged him with his foot. “The half-naked woman not doing anything for you?”
Michael shrugged. “She’s pretty enough. It’s all kind of degrading, isn’t it?”
“Um?” Ted looked back at the screen, where the woman was now behind the curtain, the clearness of her silhouette suggesting she had floodlights installed in her shower.
“It’s all sexualized,” Michael explained. “Every movie tries to find an excuse to get the woman naked, whether or not it has anything to do with the plot. The writers squeeze in sex scenes every chance they get, just because sex sells.”
“So you don’t like naked women?” Ted seized on this information hopefully.
“I don’t really care what they’re wearing, or not wearing,” Michael answered. “I just think there’s too much focus on sex.”
“Sex is good,” Ted insisted desperately. “People like sex.”
“I know. I just,” Michael sighed. “I don’t like sex.”
“What?” Ted yelped.
Michael blushed. “I’m not interested in sex, alright?”
“But...no. No. God couldn’t be that cruel.”
“I’m also an atheist.”
Ted groaned. “You have no sexual desire at all? Ever?”
Michael shrugged. “Well, yeah, but it’s too much trouble to do anything about it. You have to talk to people, and ask them out, and act different to impress them, and then you have to figure out if they really like you. It’s a lot of work for something I can take care of on my own. It’s easier not to bother with any of it. Less disgusting too.” Michael made a face. “Sex is really gross when you think about it, isn’t it?”
Ted thought carefully before he spoke, remembering how annoyed he felt whenever someone questioned his homosexuality. “So it’s the interpersonal relationships that you have trouble with, not the desire for sexual relations?”
“I guess. It’s still pretty gross though. Inserting body parts we’re not supposed to show into other body parts that are also supposed to stay covered and getting,” he paused, looking for a word, “assorted fluids everywhere? There’s a reason people have sex behind closed doors.”
“I know some exhibitionists who would disagree with you,” Ted said dryly. “Look, not to argue with your lifestyle choice or personal feelings, but have you ever tried sex?”
“Once, in high school. It was…less than spectacular.”
“So was my first time. Practice makes perfect though.”
Michael smiled sadly. “Maybe that’s it. I don’t want to take the time to practice.”
“Not with anyone?” Ted knew he was whining, but couldn’t help himself.
“Maybe after college,” Michael conceded. “Right now, I have better things to do. Besides,” he nudged Ted with his shoulder, “I have you, right? Who needs a girlfriend when he has a best bud?”
God, Ted decided, could be that cruel, and worse.
~~~~~
Ralph gestured wildly as he explained about the case they were studying in class and what idiots his classmates were for missing such obvious clues, forgetting that he’d just taken a large forkful of mashed potatoes. Small bits of potato flew off his fork, splattering his friends.
“Ralph!” Max shouted, frantically wiping at his shirt. “Do you know how much this shirt cost?”
Sue pulled the fork from Ralph’s hand. “You can talk, or you can eat, but not both.”
“Sorry,” Ralph said, handing a napkin to Ted, who had flecks of white in his hair.
Michael pulled off his glasses and reached for a napkin. Ralph reached across the table and grabbed the glasses. “Don’t wipe them on these napkins,” he said. “I think they’re made of bark. You’ll scratch the lenses.” He wiped the lenses on his shirt, shrugging off Michael’s objections. “Mashed potato can’t be that hard to get out, no matter what Max says. Cotton’s better than cheap paper napkins. Besides, it’s my fault.” He held up the glasses. “All clean.” Grinning, he slid them on. “How do I look?”
“Adorable,” Sue said. “Now give them back.”
Ralph took off the glasses, turning them around in his hands. “What’s your prescription? These seem really weak.”
“I just need them for reading,” Michael explained, reaching for them. “I wear them all the time because otherwise I forget them.”
Ralph held the glasses flat, peering at them. “Is there any curve to these lenses at all?” He put them back on and held up his hand, moving it towards and away from his face. “It’s like looking through a window.”
“I read a lot. I get a headache without them.” Michael half stood, leaning forward to get his glasses back, but Ted beat him to it, pulling them from Ralph’s face and ignoring his roommate’s yelp as the earpiece snagged his ear.
“Geez, there really is nothing to them,” Ted said, studying them closely. “Why do you even bother?”
“I get headaches!” Michael insisted, pulling the glasses back. Everyone stared at him as he put the glasses back on, flushing and not looking at anyone.
“And worthless glasses help with the eyestrain?” Max asked.
“They’re a mask,” John said, voice low. He looked at Michael, who kept his eyes down.
“Of course,” Max drawled. “A transparent mask. Brilliant.”
“Mike?” Sue asked, leaning forward to rest a hand on Michael’s arm.
“After my first touchdown, people started treating me different,” Michael said softly. “The team started talking to me during school. People noticed me. Suddenly I wasn’t Michael Carter, straight A student, I was Booster the football hero. We had to wear our uniforms to school on days we had games. It was weird. Most days, the teachers never suspected me of anything, but when I was in uniform and some kids were rowdy, they always assumed I was in on it. The better I did at football, the more teachers yelled at me for talking out of turn or slacking off. I left my math textbook at school once and didn’t get my homework done, and the teacher threatened to get me thrown off the team if it happened again, and gave me this huge lecture about responsibility and putting academics first. So I decided I had to look like a good student. I...found some glasses. The team gave me a hard time, but once I proved to the coach I didn’t need them to play, he said it was fine. The teachers started treating me the same as they used to. I was a little more popular than I used to be, but people, well, they treated me like I was smart, not a dumb jock.”
“Where did you get the glasses, Michael?” John asked sternly.
“I found them,” Michael repeated, and fidgeted. “In the theater’s prop room.”
John sighed. “You do not need to hide behind stolen glasses, Michael.”
Michael lightly touched the frames. “I kinda like them. I like how they make me look.”
“We all know you’re smart,” Sue reassured him, “and that you’re athletic. We’re all capable of handling the dichotomy.”
Ted ruffled Michael’s hair. “I think you’re cute, with or without them,” he said.
Michael smiled in relief.
“Of course,” Ralph added, “that doesn’t mean we won’t make fun of you, four-eyes.”
Sue smacked him, and he retaliated by smearing mashed potatoes on her nose. Dinah told them to “get a room already,” and Michael’s glasses were forgotten as the conversation turned to a debate about how much potato was actually in the mashed potatoes, and their use as a cosmetic. Michael relaxed, soon joining in on the teasing. He didn’t notice the worried glances the others shot him, or know that every one of his new friends had just resolved to help him gain enough confidence to lose the glasses.
~~~~
Ted waited outside the locker rooms for Dinah. Even when changing into exercise clothing, girls took forever. Finally, Dinah emerged, dressed in shorts and a sports bra and with her hair tied back. “Ready?” she asked, as if she’d been the one standing around waiting.
“Prepare for a butt-kicking, blondie. Mostly-blondie. Your roots are showing.”
“I’m touching it up tonight. After I knock you flat a few times.” She led the way across the gym to a small mirrored room, picking up some padded gloves stacked outside the door. She turned to see Ted standing several yards behind her, staring off to the side. Following his gaze, she saw a blond working out on the pommel horse. Dinah took a moment to appreciate the view: broad shoulders, well-defined muscles, tight shorts, and a t-shirt made thin by repeated washings. No wonder Ted was distracted. Smirking, Dinah walked over.
“You’re drooling,” she teased.
“I am breaking into his room and burning his wardrobe,” Ted announced quietly. “He will never wear those baggy sweatshirts again. Oh god, I want to bend him over that horse and do things to him.”
Startled, Dinah took another look at the blond. “Is that Michael? Wow.” She watched him for a few seconds. “You’re right. Hiding that body under baggy clothes is a crime against man. And woman. Can we just dress him in swim trunks all the time? Or less?”
“Yes please.”
Dinah smirked at him. “Still want to spar? Or would you rather go over there and flirt? Maybe show off your prowess on the high bar?”
Ted shook his head. “Never try and do fancy tricks while ogling someone. It’s a good way to fall and break your neck.”
“Break a leg instead. Then Michael can nurse you back to health.”
“I hadn’t considered that. Quick, hit me. I need to bleed, at least.”
Dinah laughed and walked over as Michael dismounted. “Very nice,” she said appreciatively.
“Thanks.” He grinned. “I’m a little rusty. Been awhile since I worked out.”
“I wasn’t talking about the work out.” She eyed him. “You should wear tight clothes more often.”
Michael blushed and Ted came over, shooting Dinah a glare that clearly said “back off.” “She’s right. You look good. And the work out was impressive too. I didn’t know you took gymnastics.”
“I had lessons for about a year and a half when I was a kid,” Michael explained. “I loved it, but we couldn’t afford to keep it up.” His dad had taken off, disappearing for almost two years, but had felt enough guilt to send money home from time to time. That, combined with his mom getting an unusually well paying job and his grandfather dying and leaving them some money, had paid for gymnastic lessons for both him and Michelle, plus new clothes and a decent apartment. It hadn’t lasted though. His dad’s latest girlfriend left him for some barely legal bad boy on a motorcycle, and when his dad had come home after a run of bad luck at the tracks and learned about his son’s new sport, he’d called Michael a queer and a mama’s boy. Lessons had ended for him after that, and Michelle, who’d only stuck with it to please her brother and mother, quit soon after. Michael mentally pushed back the memories. “I kept practicing when I could, and taught myself a little from TV. Wish I’d learned more, but I’ve never had the chance.”
“I could teach you, if you want,” Ted offered. “I’ve been taking gymnastics for years. It’s part of the reason I picked this school. For some reason, most colleges don’t bother with Parallel Bars 101.”
“If you need a 101 class, Kord, you shouldn’t be teaching.” A tall, dark haired man sauntered over and held out his hand to Michael, grinning. “Hi. I’m Dick Grayson.”
“Michael Carter.” Michael took his hand, and instead of shaking it, Dick squeezed gently before letting go. “Aren’t you the one on the Olympic team?”
“That’s me.” He swung an arm around Ted’s shoulders. “Teddy tried out, but didn’t make the cut. Not even an alternate, although it was a near thing. If there’d been one more space open, he would have gotten it.”
Ted shrugged off the arm, glaring. “Did you want something, Grayson?”
“Just here for a bit of practice. I overheard, and thought I’d offer my services.” He smiled at Michael, walking forward to lean against the pommel horse, arms crossed over his chest, and sized up Michael. “You’ve got a good build, and you obviously have some sense of balance, or you would have fallen on your face when you tried those spindles. I bet I can have you flying in no time.”
“Really?” Michael looked eager. “I always wanted to do the fancier stuff, but the classes here didn’t seem geared towards beginners.”
“Was that your warm-up or cool-down I just saw?”
“You want to start now?”
Dick smirked. “If you’re up to it.”
“I’ll kill him,” Ted muttered. “I’ll beat him to death with the weights and hang his body from the high bar.”
“You’re so cute when you’re in a jealous rage,” Dinah cooed. “Relax. Dick flirts with everyone and has chemistry with rocks, but he’s straight and faithful to Babs.”
“You’re so cute when your naïve.”
“He wouldn’t cheat on Babs!”
“Not if he values his family jewels where they are,” Ted agreed. “I meant about the straight part.”
“Dick’s too comfortable with himself to stay in the closet. If he were gay, everyone would know. And you two would be going at it like rabbits.”
Ted ignored her last comment. “There are more than two options you know.”
Dinah’s eyes widened. “He’s bi? Are you sure?”
“The man could seduce a rock, and you think he’s limiting himself to half the population? Did you see him with your boyfriend’s protégé last year?”
Dinah frowned. “You mean Roy? He and Dick have been friends since they were kids. You don’t really think-oh god.”
Ted smirked. “Told ya.”
Dinah shook her head. “How did I miss that?” She watched as Dick gestured at the high bar, one arm around Michael’s shoulders. She glanced back at Ted to see him gritting his teeth. Taking pity, she walked over, interrupting the lesson before it could get started.
“I’m sure Ted can teach Mike,” she said, tugging Dick away. “I need a sparring partner. I’ve sparred with Ted so much it’s getting to be routine. I need variety, and you just volunteered.”
“That was nice of me,” Dick said, letting Dinah pull him away from Michael. He smirked at Ted as he turned to wave to Michael. “See you around.”
“No you won’t,” Ted muttered, just loud enough for Dick to hear.
Dick pouted. “Aw, and here I thought we could have a sandwich.”
“Babs would kill you,” Dinah pointed out before Ted could start swearing.
“Not if she were invited.” Dick patted Ted on the shoulder. “No hard feelings, Ted. Just to show what a good sport I am, I promise to bail you out after you get arrested for indecent expose and sexual molestation.” He looked back at Michael, who looked confused. “Although I think once you’d explained, the judge would take your side.”
Dinah dragged Dick away before Ted could strangle him.
“What was that about?” Michael asked.
“Nothing. Ignore Dick. He’s aptly named.”
“Does that mean we aren’t going to have lunch with him and Babs?”
Ted sighed. “Yes. Come on, let’s see what you can do.” Watching Michael demonstrate some basic moves on the parallel bars, Ted wondered if he’d have to take Dick up on his offer of bail money after all. Michael was very naïve; maybe Ted could convince him that licking was an acceptable way to clean sweat from your gymnastics partner’s thighs.
Giving Michael gymnastic lessons was either the best or worst idea he’d ever had.
~~~~~
Ralph came into the room, kicking the door shut behind him, and flopped onto his bed. Ted didn’t look up from his course book, scribbling into an open notebook.
“Picked your classes for next semester yet?” Ralph asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
“Yes. That’s why I’m still looking at the schedule.”
“Touchy.” Ralph stood and crossed the room to peer over Ted’s shoulder. “You’re in the As. Since when does engineering start with an A?”
“I’m taking some electives. Broadening my horizons. Becoming a well-rounded, knowledgeable individual.”
Ralph leaned closer, reading the course book. “Archeology. Are the circled classes the ones Mike’s taking?”
Ted sighed and slumped forward, forehead resting against the desk. “I’m completely whipped, and we aren’t even dating.”
Ralph patted him on the shoulder. “You are pathetic.”
Ted straightened and flipped through the course book. “There are two that might fit in my schedule, I just have to decide whether I want Russian Lit or World History.”
“You haven’t taken your history class yet? Slacker.”
Ted frowned. “I should have an AP credit for history. Why is it still on my list of gen ed requirements?” He crossed the history class off his potential schedule, scribbled a note to ask his advisor about his AP credits, and circled Russian Literature and Egyptian Archeology. “Done!”
“Do you have any interest in archeology?”
Ted considered this. “I have an interest in seeing Mike dirty and sweaty and happy. Running up to show me his latest find with his shirt half-unbuttoned, sweat trickling down his chest…” Ralph made frantic slashing gestures with his hands, and Ted frowned at him. “What?”
“Archeology! I asked if you liked archeology, not about your fantasy of Mike-as-Indiana-Jones.”
Ted’s pupils dilated and he licked his lips. “Oh, that’s good. I hadn’t even thought of that. The whip doesn’t do anything for me, but Mike would look good in a fedora and leather jacket. Thanks Ralph.”
Ralph sighed and sat back on his bed. “So, archeology?” he asked hopefully.
Ted shrugged. “Might be neat. The ancient Egyptians were pretty cool. Probably not too much hands on stuff, so I’ll just have to sit next to Mike in class for an hour an a half, three days a week, watching the way he sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and the way he looks so happy and excited when talking about digging up buried cities.” Ted hid his face in his hands. “Why do I do this to myself?”
“I’d suggest masochistic tendencies, but then you’d be more interested in the whip.”
Ted sighed. “Change of subject. Do you have your schedule planned?”
Ralph launched into a convoluted explanation of pre-requisites, evil teachers to be avoided at all costs, and his and Sue’s debate over how many classes they could have together before Sue beat him to death with a textbook. Ted leaned back in his chair, only half-listening, and wondered if Michael would ever realize how Ted felt, of if he should just give up in despair.
TBC
Part 3
Summary: AU. No superpowers, no saving the world from alien invasion. Just a college, students, and one young man's attempts to win his clueless classmate's affections.
Rating: G (so far)
Word count: 3147
A/N: This part includes the snippet I posted back in June. It's been edited a very little bit, so there isn't really much new.
This part jumps around a lot. Mostly unconnected scenes of Life in College.
Part 1
Part 2
Ted lounged on the sofa with Michael, watching television. As the female lead stripped down for the requisite shower scene, Ted snuck a glance at Michael. He looked bored. That was good. Ted still wasn’t completely certain which way Michael swung. Michael hadn’t given him many clues either way. Ted nudged him with his foot. “The half-naked woman not doing anything for you?”
Michael shrugged. “She’s pretty enough. It’s all kind of degrading, isn’t it?”
“Um?” Ted looked back at the screen, where the woman was now behind the curtain, the clearness of her silhouette suggesting she had floodlights installed in her shower.
“It’s all sexualized,” Michael explained. “Every movie tries to find an excuse to get the woman naked, whether or not it has anything to do with the plot. The writers squeeze in sex scenes every chance they get, just because sex sells.”
“So you don’t like naked women?” Ted seized on this information hopefully.
“I don’t really care what they’re wearing, or not wearing,” Michael answered. “I just think there’s too much focus on sex.”
“Sex is good,” Ted insisted desperately. “People like sex.”
“I know. I just,” Michael sighed. “I don’t like sex.”
“What?” Ted yelped.
Michael blushed. “I’m not interested in sex, alright?”
“But...no. No. God couldn’t be that cruel.”
“I’m also an atheist.”
Ted groaned. “You have no sexual desire at all? Ever?”
Michael shrugged. “Well, yeah, but it’s too much trouble to do anything about it. You have to talk to people, and ask them out, and act different to impress them, and then you have to figure out if they really like you. It’s a lot of work for something I can take care of on my own. It’s easier not to bother with any of it. Less disgusting too.” Michael made a face. “Sex is really gross when you think about it, isn’t it?”
Ted thought carefully before he spoke, remembering how annoyed he felt whenever someone questioned his homosexuality. “So it’s the interpersonal relationships that you have trouble with, not the desire for sexual relations?”
“I guess. It’s still pretty gross though. Inserting body parts we’re not supposed to show into other body parts that are also supposed to stay covered and getting,” he paused, looking for a word, “assorted fluids everywhere? There’s a reason people have sex behind closed doors.”
“I know some exhibitionists who would disagree with you,” Ted said dryly. “Look, not to argue with your lifestyle choice or personal feelings, but have you ever tried sex?”
“Once, in high school. It was…less than spectacular.”
“So was my first time. Practice makes perfect though.”
Michael smiled sadly. “Maybe that’s it. I don’t want to take the time to practice.”
“Not with anyone?” Ted knew he was whining, but couldn’t help himself.
“Maybe after college,” Michael conceded. “Right now, I have better things to do. Besides,” he nudged Ted with his shoulder, “I have you, right? Who needs a girlfriend when he has a best bud?”
God, Ted decided, could be that cruel, and worse.
~~~~~
Ralph gestured wildly as he explained about the case they were studying in class and what idiots his classmates were for missing such obvious clues, forgetting that he’d just taken a large forkful of mashed potatoes. Small bits of potato flew off his fork, splattering his friends.
“Ralph!” Max shouted, frantically wiping at his shirt. “Do you know how much this shirt cost?”
Sue pulled the fork from Ralph’s hand. “You can talk, or you can eat, but not both.”
“Sorry,” Ralph said, handing a napkin to Ted, who had flecks of white in his hair.
Michael pulled off his glasses and reached for a napkin. Ralph reached across the table and grabbed the glasses. “Don’t wipe them on these napkins,” he said. “I think they’re made of bark. You’ll scratch the lenses.” He wiped the lenses on his shirt, shrugging off Michael’s objections. “Mashed potato can’t be that hard to get out, no matter what Max says. Cotton’s better than cheap paper napkins. Besides, it’s my fault.” He held up the glasses. “All clean.” Grinning, he slid them on. “How do I look?”
“Adorable,” Sue said. “Now give them back.”
Ralph took off the glasses, turning them around in his hands. “What’s your prescription? These seem really weak.”
“I just need them for reading,” Michael explained, reaching for them. “I wear them all the time because otherwise I forget them.”
Ralph held the glasses flat, peering at them. “Is there any curve to these lenses at all?” He put them back on and held up his hand, moving it towards and away from his face. “It’s like looking through a window.”
“I read a lot. I get a headache without them.” Michael half stood, leaning forward to get his glasses back, but Ted beat him to it, pulling them from Ralph’s face and ignoring his roommate’s yelp as the earpiece snagged his ear.
“Geez, there really is nothing to them,” Ted said, studying them closely. “Why do you even bother?”
“I get headaches!” Michael insisted, pulling the glasses back. Everyone stared at him as he put the glasses back on, flushing and not looking at anyone.
“And worthless glasses help with the eyestrain?” Max asked.
“They’re a mask,” John said, voice low. He looked at Michael, who kept his eyes down.
“Of course,” Max drawled. “A transparent mask. Brilliant.”
“Mike?” Sue asked, leaning forward to rest a hand on Michael’s arm.
“After my first touchdown, people started treating me different,” Michael said softly. “The team started talking to me during school. People noticed me. Suddenly I wasn’t Michael Carter, straight A student, I was Booster the football hero. We had to wear our uniforms to school on days we had games. It was weird. Most days, the teachers never suspected me of anything, but when I was in uniform and some kids were rowdy, they always assumed I was in on it. The better I did at football, the more teachers yelled at me for talking out of turn or slacking off. I left my math textbook at school once and didn’t get my homework done, and the teacher threatened to get me thrown off the team if it happened again, and gave me this huge lecture about responsibility and putting academics first. So I decided I had to look like a good student. I...found some glasses. The team gave me a hard time, but once I proved to the coach I didn’t need them to play, he said it was fine. The teachers started treating me the same as they used to. I was a little more popular than I used to be, but people, well, they treated me like I was smart, not a dumb jock.”
“Where did you get the glasses, Michael?” John asked sternly.
“I found them,” Michael repeated, and fidgeted. “In the theater’s prop room.”
John sighed. “You do not need to hide behind stolen glasses, Michael.”
Michael lightly touched the frames. “I kinda like them. I like how they make me look.”
“We all know you’re smart,” Sue reassured him, “and that you’re athletic. We’re all capable of handling the dichotomy.”
Ted ruffled Michael’s hair. “I think you’re cute, with or without them,” he said.
Michael smiled in relief.
“Of course,” Ralph added, “that doesn’t mean we won’t make fun of you, four-eyes.”
Sue smacked him, and he retaliated by smearing mashed potatoes on her nose. Dinah told them to “get a room already,” and Michael’s glasses were forgotten as the conversation turned to a debate about how much potato was actually in the mashed potatoes, and their use as a cosmetic. Michael relaxed, soon joining in on the teasing. He didn’t notice the worried glances the others shot him, or know that every one of his new friends had just resolved to help him gain enough confidence to lose the glasses.
~~~~
Ted waited outside the locker rooms for Dinah. Even when changing into exercise clothing, girls took forever. Finally, Dinah emerged, dressed in shorts and a sports bra and with her hair tied back. “Ready?” she asked, as if she’d been the one standing around waiting.
“Prepare for a butt-kicking, blondie. Mostly-blondie. Your roots are showing.”
“I’m touching it up tonight. After I knock you flat a few times.” She led the way across the gym to a small mirrored room, picking up some padded gloves stacked outside the door. She turned to see Ted standing several yards behind her, staring off to the side. Following his gaze, she saw a blond working out on the pommel horse. Dinah took a moment to appreciate the view: broad shoulders, well-defined muscles, tight shorts, and a t-shirt made thin by repeated washings. No wonder Ted was distracted. Smirking, Dinah walked over.
“You’re drooling,” she teased.
“I am breaking into his room and burning his wardrobe,” Ted announced quietly. “He will never wear those baggy sweatshirts again. Oh god, I want to bend him over that horse and do things to him.”
Startled, Dinah took another look at the blond. “Is that Michael? Wow.” She watched him for a few seconds. “You’re right. Hiding that body under baggy clothes is a crime against man. And woman. Can we just dress him in swim trunks all the time? Or less?”
“Yes please.”
Dinah smirked at him. “Still want to spar? Or would you rather go over there and flirt? Maybe show off your prowess on the high bar?”
Ted shook his head. “Never try and do fancy tricks while ogling someone. It’s a good way to fall and break your neck.”
“Break a leg instead. Then Michael can nurse you back to health.”
“I hadn’t considered that. Quick, hit me. I need to bleed, at least.”
Dinah laughed and walked over as Michael dismounted. “Very nice,” she said appreciatively.
“Thanks.” He grinned. “I’m a little rusty. Been awhile since I worked out.”
“I wasn’t talking about the work out.” She eyed him. “You should wear tight clothes more often.”
Michael blushed and Ted came over, shooting Dinah a glare that clearly said “back off.” “She’s right. You look good. And the work out was impressive too. I didn’t know you took gymnastics.”
“I had lessons for about a year and a half when I was a kid,” Michael explained. “I loved it, but we couldn’t afford to keep it up.” His dad had taken off, disappearing for almost two years, but had felt enough guilt to send money home from time to time. That, combined with his mom getting an unusually well paying job and his grandfather dying and leaving them some money, had paid for gymnastic lessons for both him and Michelle, plus new clothes and a decent apartment. It hadn’t lasted though. His dad’s latest girlfriend left him for some barely legal bad boy on a motorcycle, and when his dad had come home after a run of bad luck at the tracks and learned about his son’s new sport, he’d called Michael a queer and a mama’s boy. Lessons had ended for him after that, and Michelle, who’d only stuck with it to please her brother and mother, quit soon after. Michael mentally pushed back the memories. “I kept practicing when I could, and taught myself a little from TV. Wish I’d learned more, but I’ve never had the chance.”
“I could teach you, if you want,” Ted offered. “I’ve been taking gymnastics for years. It’s part of the reason I picked this school. For some reason, most colleges don’t bother with Parallel Bars 101.”
“If you need a 101 class, Kord, you shouldn’t be teaching.” A tall, dark haired man sauntered over and held out his hand to Michael, grinning. “Hi. I’m Dick Grayson.”
“Michael Carter.” Michael took his hand, and instead of shaking it, Dick squeezed gently before letting go. “Aren’t you the one on the Olympic team?”
“That’s me.” He swung an arm around Ted’s shoulders. “Teddy tried out, but didn’t make the cut. Not even an alternate, although it was a near thing. If there’d been one more space open, he would have gotten it.”
Ted shrugged off the arm, glaring. “Did you want something, Grayson?”
“Just here for a bit of practice. I overheard, and thought I’d offer my services.” He smiled at Michael, walking forward to lean against the pommel horse, arms crossed over his chest, and sized up Michael. “You’ve got a good build, and you obviously have some sense of balance, or you would have fallen on your face when you tried those spindles. I bet I can have you flying in no time.”
“Really?” Michael looked eager. “I always wanted to do the fancier stuff, but the classes here didn’t seem geared towards beginners.”
“Was that your warm-up or cool-down I just saw?”
“You want to start now?”
Dick smirked. “If you’re up to it.”
“I’ll kill him,” Ted muttered. “I’ll beat him to death with the weights and hang his body from the high bar.”
“You’re so cute when you’re in a jealous rage,” Dinah cooed. “Relax. Dick flirts with everyone and has chemistry with rocks, but he’s straight and faithful to Babs.”
“You’re so cute when your naïve.”
“He wouldn’t cheat on Babs!”
“Not if he values his family jewels where they are,” Ted agreed. “I meant about the straight part.”
“Dick’s too comfortable with himself to stay in the closet. If he were gay, everyone would know. And you two would be going at it like rabbits.”
Ted ignored her last comment. “There are more than two options you know.”
Dinah’s eyes widened. “He’s bi? Are you sure?”
“The man could seduce a rock, and you think he’s limiting himself to half the population? Did you see him with your boyfriend’s protégé last year?”
Dinah frowned. “You mean Roy? He and Dick have been friends since they were kids. You don’t really think-oh god.”
Ted smirked. “Told ya.”
Dinah shook her head. “How did I miss that?” She watched as Dick gestured at the high bar, one arm around Michael’s shoulders. She glanced back at Ted to see him gritting his teeth. Taking pity, she walked over, interrupting the lesson before it could get started.
“I’m sure Ted can teach Mike,” she said, tugging Dick away. “I need a sparring partner. I’ve sparred with Ted so much it’s getting to be routine. I need variety, and you just volunteered.”
“That was nice of me,” Dick said, letting Dinah pull him away from Michael. He smirked at Ted as he turned to wave to Michael. “See you around.”
“No you won’t,” Ted muttered, just loud enough for Dick to hear.
Dick pouted. “Aw, and here I thought we could have a sandwich.”
“Babs would kill you,” Dinah pointed out before Ted could start swearing.
“Not if she were invited.” Dick patted Ted on the shoulder. “No hard feelings, Ted. Just to show what a good sport I am, I promise to bail you out after you get arrested for indecent expose and sexual molestation.” He looked back at Michael, who looked confused. “Although I think once you’d explained, the judge would take your side.”
Dinah dragged Dick away before Ted could strangle him.
“What was that about?” Michael asked.
“Nothing. Ignore Dick. He’s aptly named.”
“Does that mean we aren’t going to have lunch with him and Babs?”
Ted sighed. “Yes. Come on, let’s see what you can do.” Watching Michael demonstrate some basic moves on the parallel bars, Ted wondered if he’d have to take Dick up on his offer of bail money after all. Michael was very naïve; maybe Ted could convince him that licking was an acceptable way to clean sweat from your gymnastics partner’s thighs.
Giving Michael gymnastic lessons was either the best or worst idea he’d ever had.
~~~~~
Ralph came into the room, kicking the door shut behind him, and flopped onto his bed. Ted didn’t look up from his course book, scribbling into an open notebook.
“Picked your classes for next semester yet?” Ralph asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
“Yes. That’s why I’m still looking at the schedule.”
“Touchy.” Ralph stood and crossed the room to peer over Ted’s shoulder. “You’re in the As. Since when does engineering start with an A?”
“I’m taking some electives. Broadening my horizons. Becoming a well-rounded, knowledgeable individual.”
Ralph leaned closer, reading the course book. “Archeology. Are the circled classes the ones Mike’s taking?”
Ted sighed and slumped forward, forehead resting against the desk. “I’m completely whipped, and we aren’t even dating.”
Ralph patted him on the shoulder. “You are pathetic.”
Ted straightened and flipped through the course book. “There are two that might fit in my schedule, I just have to decide whether I want Russian Lit or World History.”
“You haven’t taken your history class yet? Slacker.”
Ted frowned. “I should have an AP credit for history. Why is it still on my list of gen ed requirements?” He crossed the history class off his potential schedule, scribbled a note to ask his advisor about his AP credits, and circled Russian Literature and Egyptian Archeology. “Done!”
“Do you have any interest in archeology?”
Ted considered this. “I have an interest in seeing Mike dirty and sweaty and happy. Running up to show me his latest find with his shirt half-unbuttoned, sweat trickling down his chest…” Ralph made frantic slashing gestures with his hands, and Ted frowned at him. “What?”
“Archeology! I asked if you liked archeology, not about your fantasy of Mike-as-Indiana-Jones.”
Ted’s pupils dilated and he licked his lips. “Oh, that’s good. I hadn’t even thought of that. The whip doesn’t do anything for me, but Mike would look good in a fedora and leather jacket. Thanks Ralph.”
Ralph sighed and sat back on his bed. “So, archeology?” he asked hopefully.
Ted shrugged. “Might be neat. The ancient Egyptians were pretty cool. Probably not too much hands on stuff, so I’ll just have to sit next to Mike in class for an hour an a half, three days a week, watching the way he sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and the way he looks so happy and excited when talking about digging up buried cities.” Ted hid his face in his hands. “Why do I do this to myself?”
“I’d suggest masochistic tendencies, but then you’d be more interested in the whip.”
Ted sighed. “Change of subject. Do you have your schedule planned?”
Ralph launched into a convoluted explanation of pre-requisites, evil teachers to be avoided at all costs, and his and Sue’s debate over how many classes they could have together before Sue beat him to death with a textbook. Ted leaned back in his chair, only half-listening, and wondered if Michael would ever realize how Ted felt, of if he should just give up in despair.
TBC
Part 3