Fic: Half Decent Proposal
Title: Half Decent Proposal
Pairing: Dakin/Irwin
Rating: PG
Notes: Uses the events of the play, rather than the film. Oh, and it's set in a distant future (not that distant actually) where Dakin and Irwin are reacquainted.
Enjoy! (If possible. ^^o)
It was late and it was November, but Irwin could still make out the vague shape of a person loitering in front of one of his windows. As he wheeled his way through the gate, the security light lit abruptly, and behind a newly illuminated haze of smoke, Dakin appeared with startled eyes and curses, immediately complaining that he’d nearly dropped his cigarette.
“Evening,” Irwin greeted him serenely. He headed straight past Dakin and opened the front door.
Dakin, without stopping to ask whether he was welcome, followed him inside.
“I saw you on TV last night,” Dakin said, after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Irwin was opening a can of soup. “You were on Question Time too, weren’t you? That’s what Scripps told me anyway; I don’t really watch it. Any interesting topics come up? I bet you had something to say about Blair,” Dakin began to mimic Irwin’s dry, school-teachery voice, “Looking at this from a historian’s point of view, it should be noted that everything has its precedents and the rule of Blair is no exception…”
Irwin didn’t respond to this, he just prodded the surface of soup with a spoon.
“We’ve never really talked politics, have we?” Dakin continued.
Irwin gave him a wry smile. “If you’ve been thinking about Tony Blair and William Hague, I’m not sure if I’ll let you buy me that dinner you were talking about.”
This was a bit of a misleading statement, but since they both clearly knew the truth of the situation, neither corrected it. The truth was that they had never yet come to the act. At first, it had been reasonable to assume that it would never happen. Dakin wasn’t prepared to go ahead with it after the accident left Irwin in that wheelchair, and after Hector’s funeral they had gone their separate ways. When they met again, years later, Irwin was as alone as he had ever been but Dakin had a girlfriend. He was still with her in fact - a native Londoner called Kelly Havers who worked in advertising. Dakin would have quite liked to have said that he and Irwin hadn’t done it because he didn’t want to hurt Kelly’s feelings, but this would be untrue. Dakin and Kelly stayed together, it seemed, because that’s what they had done for three years now. And Irwin and Dakin stayed purely platonic because that was what they had always done. That is to say, platonic with the exception of a few instances which never found their way to a conclusion. Kelly never knew about these, just as she never knew about Sarah, the old friend from university Dakin had shagged whilst on a business trip in Brighton.
Dakin liked Kelly a lot; he liked sitting on the sofa watching Eastenders with her; he liked having sex with her. He would honestly dearly love her to be happy. But, as ever, the Dakin school of mental detachment from responsibility was the strongest power. Dakin didn’t love her, that was the rub. At least, Irwin hoped it was.
Irwin also suspected that the wheelchair was still a bigger factor than it should be, when it came to Dakin’s reticence in an area he had previously been chief instigator in.
“Talking about dinner,” Dakin said, “Do you mind sharing that appetising can of Campbell’s Cream of Tomato?”
“I suppose you can,” Irwin shrugged, “but shouldn’t you be getting home by now? It’s 11.30 already.”
“Ah, well,” Dakin seemed to swallow a huge amount of air, as if about to race through the Periodic Table, “Kelly… And me. We’ve sort of had a falling out…” He paused again, “You see, I was wondering whether I could stay here for a while. I don’t think… I don’t think that this time I’ll be going back.”
Dakin leaned back against a kitchen sideboard, waiting patiently for the response he was after.
“Yes, Dakin,” Irwin said after a moment searching through a drawer for soup spoons, “Of course I’ll marry you.”
“Oh shut up,” Dakin smirked, “And stop that smiling!”
Pairing: Dakin/Irwin
Rating: PG
Notes: Uses the events of the play, rather than the film. Oh, and it's set in a distant future (not that distant actually) where Dakin and Irwin are reacquainted.
Enjoy! (If possible. ^^o)
It was late and it was November, but Irwin could still make out the vague shape of a person loitering in front of one of his windows. As he wheeled his way through the gate, the security light lit abruptly, and behind a newly illuminated haze of smoke, Dakin appeared with startled eyes and curses, immediately complaining that he’d nearly dropped his cigarette.
“Evening,” Irwin greeted him serenely. He headed straight past Dakin and opened the front door.
Dakin, without stopping to ask whether he was welcome, followed him inside.
“I saw you on TV last night,” Dakin said, after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Irwin was opening a can of soup. “You were on Question Time too, weren’t you? That’s what Scripps told me anyway; I don’t really watch it. Any interesting topics come up? I bet you had something to say about Blair,” Dakin began to mimic Irwin’s dry, school-teachery voice, “Looking at this from a historian’s point of view, it should be noted that everything has its precedents and the rule of Blair is no exception…”
Irwin didn’t respond to this, he just prodded the surface of soup with a spoon.
“We’ve never really talked politics, have we?” Dakin continued.
Irwin gave him a wry smile. “If you’ve been thinking about Tony Blair and William Hague, I’m not sure if I’ll let you buy me that dinner you were talking about.”
This was a bit of a misleading statement, but since they both clearly knew the truth of the situation, neither corrected it. The truth was that they had never yet come to the act. At first, it had been reasonable to assume that it would never happen. Dakin wasn’t prepared to go ahead with it after the accident left Irwin in that wheelchair, and after Hector’s funeral they had gone their separate ways. When they met again, years later, Irwin was as alone as he had ever been but Dakin had a girlfriend. He was still with her in fact - a native Londoner called Kelly Havers who worked in advertising. Dakin would have quite liked to have said that he and Irwin hadn’t done it because he didn’t want to hurt Kelly’s feelings, but this would be untrue. Dakin and Kelly stayed together, it seemed, because that’s what they had done for three years now. And Irwin and Dakin stayed purely platonic because that was what they had always done. That is to say, platonic with the exception of a few instances which never found their way to a conclusion. Kelly never knew about these, just as she never knew about Sarah, the old friend from university Dakin had shagged whilst on a business trip in Brighton.
Dakin liked Kelly a lot; he liked sitting on the sofa watching Eastenders with her; he liked having sex with her. He would honestly dearly love her to be happy. But, as ever, the Dakin school of mental detachment from responsibility was the strongest power. Dakin didn’t love her, that was the rub. At least, Irwin hoped it was.
Irwin also suspected that the wheelchair was still a bigger factor than it should be, when it came to Dakin’s reticence in an area he had previously been chief instigator in.
“Talking about dinner,” Dakin said, “Do you mind sharing that appetising can of Campbell’s Cream of Tomato?”
“I suppose you can,” Irwin shrugged, “but shouldn’t you be getting home by now? It’s 11.30 already.”
“Ah, well,” Dakin seemed to swallow a huge amount of air, as if about to race through the Periodic Table, “Kelly… And me. We’ve sort of had a falling out…” He paused again, “You see, I was wondering whether I could stay here for a while. I don’t think… I don’t think that this time I’ll be going back.”
Dakin leaned back against a kitchen sideboard, waiting patiently for the response he was after.
“Yes, Dakin,” Irwin said after a moment searching through a drawer for soup spoons, “Of course I’ll marry you.”
“Oh shut up,” Dakin smirked, “And stop that smiling!”