Book One, Chapter 11: An Off-Campus Meeting
Title: An Off-Campus Meeting
Authors: escribo and kiltsandlollies
Characters: Dominic and Billy
Rating: PG
Word count: 5301
Summary:
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
A year ago, Dominic would have never thought of taking a second concentration; he wouldn't have believed himself capable. But the words what do you think about had barely left Billy's mouth before he was nodding eagerly, willing to agree to almost any suggestion Billy made. Saying no hadn't even occurred to him, though the thought of taking more philosophy courses scared him. The possibility of having Billy as his advisor--being able to spend more time with him without having to come up with ridiculous excuses--more than outweighs his fear. Some of those meetings might even take place off campus--like today's. Dates, except not. Still, Dominic finds the idea of being away from campus and alone with Billy exciting.
Of course, today, as much as Dominic would like to congratulate himself for getting Billy to agree to a meeting at the little coffee shop off campus, he didn't actually have anything to do with it. He owes that debt of gratitude to the university for letting a small leak become a larger one, which has now flooded the third floor of the humanities building. Minor disasters don't count as dates, he knows, but that hadn't stopped him from printing out the email Billy had sent on the subject, saving it as if it were a much more personal correspondence.
Perhaps you've heard that life vests and oars are now required in order to visit professors. As I'm already deeply chagrined about the cost of the text you've been forced to acquired in order to become philosophically learned, I won't make you purchase a boat to see me. Let's say we'll meet at the coffee shop on Telling Ave. As often as I've seen you with cups from there, I imagine you know the place of which I speak. Same time and my treat.
See you there.
It takes a great imagination to interpret such a missive as a date, but Dominic figures it's been a long week and will be an even longer weekend once he catches the train this evening to visit his parents, so indulging in a bit of fantasy seems harmless. With his pay in his pocket and a healthy blush still in his cheeks from the test shots one of Professor Otto's post grad students had taken in the photography studios earlier in the day, he sets out across campus for the meeting. Confident that he won't be late, Dominic decides to browse a little in the bookshop, and maybe look for the book that Billy had been reading. Pulling the book from the shelf, he bites his lip. Definitely a rich fantasy life, one that's only somewhat interrupted when Billy finds Dominic among the stacks.
"Excellent choice, Dom," Billy's voice carries from above where Dominic crouches, and he smiles at the copy of The Waterworks Dominic holds. "What else have you found?"
"Just this. I only just started to look but I've heard this one was good." Holding up the book, Dominic looks again at the cover, hoping Billy doesn't ask what he's heard about it. The truth is nothing, and a brief perusal of the dust jacket didn't promise anything he'd really enjoy, other than the story being of obvious interest to Billy--it had been from inside Billy's copy of the book that Dominic had taken the thin leather bookmark the night of the postgraduate presentations. "Just got paid today so I thought I throw it back into books." Dominic laughs even as he tilts his head to see the titles that Billy holds. "You're making out well, it looks like."
"To be honest with you, I'm not likely to buy more than a few of these. There are enough half-finished books in my house already to fill half these shelves. I'm pleased you've found this place, Dom," he nods. "It's perfect to while away an afternoon, especially when the coffee shop gets too full."
The coffee shop and this store have become satellite offices for Billy over the last several days. Billy's refused to take appointments or office hours in his makeshift office in the building, instead taking them mostly outdoors or in these fine establishments. He'd perused the shelves in here for some time before he'd seen Dominic, concentrating on a row of books as if he'd known exactly what he'd been looking for, and now Dominic looks triumphant enough with his find, grinning at the cover until Billy discovers they have a visitor peering around the corner of the shelves.
"Have you met Arthur?" Billy asks Dominic, and as if on cue, the bookshop owner's small, friendly brown dog bounds toward Billy, lured by the sound of his name and the scent of something in Billy's pocket. "There you are, you rat bastard," Billy mock-growls at the dog. "Something to eat, then? Biscuits for Arthur?"
Billy feeds a biscuit he'd stolen earlier from the teacart in the science break room to the dog with one hand while the other travels along the bookshelves. "Arthur, what? I haven't got anything else. Come and meet Dom." Billy pushes the dog gently in Dominic's direction and sits back on his heels. "He won't bite you," he laughs. "He doesn't even bite me, and I'm horrible to him." After a pause, Billy lowers his voice. "You're looking well, Dominic. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. Doing well. Even if I've a paper due for this really tough professor on Tuesday morning." Sitting on the floor next to Billy, Dominic doesn't look up from Arthur as he pets the dog, scratching behind its ears before he turns his head to sneeze. "I have a bit of a job in the art department."
Dominic can feel his ears grow hot and tries to reason that it's from mentioning his modeling job, but he knows that it has more to do with the pleasure of Billy noticing a change in his appearance. Dominic laughs to see Arthur nuzzle about Billy again, his muzzle half inside Billy's coat pocket. "I don't think he believes you about the biscuits."
"And he's right not to," Billy smiles, sliding down to sit completely on the floor, allowing the dog to get closer. "Alright, alright. Two more, Arthur, but that's it, do you understand? Messy little cur." The dog devours one biscuit whole before taking the other in his mouth and moving to his bed behind the registers. Billy watches him go, brushing dog hair from his trousers before turning again to Dominic. "A job on campus? That's fantastic, Dom. What is it you’ll be doing? Tell me everything. We can talk about your paper later."
Dominic brings his legs up to his chest and rests his cheek on his knees. It's not that he's embarrassed by what he’ll be doing; if he were, he wouldn't do it. Professor Otto’s gone out of her way to make him feel safe and comfortable, and showing his body has never bothered Dominic. Still, it's not something he plans to run around telling people. Very few of his friends will ever know, except the section of art students who will end up seeing him completely naked. "I’ll be modeling for some of the art department's classes. The … em. The figure drawing classes and such. Anatomy."
Dominic carefully watches Billy as he waits for a reaction, a little afraid. He doesn't want the job to be misunderstood as something shady. But it's Billy, Dominic reasons, and Billy isn't likely to judge him or his work. He clears his throat and sits up, crossing his legs. "The pay’s pretty good, and all I’ll have to do is sit there for an hour or so per session. One of the postgrad students might be paying a little extra for private sessions, too, but ..." Dominic ends on a shrug, still waiting for Billy's approval and finding that he really wants it. "You don't think it's a mistake, do you? That I'm ... I don't know."
"No," Billy says quickly. "No, I think it's great-I know they've needed models so often in the past, and most people are much too shy, even when they're good--candidates, I suppose is the word? And your concentration and focus will be getting quite the workout, which is also great." Billy looks at Dominic carefully, considering some other things Dominic's told him in the past. It's easier to revert to the role of an advisor than to confront the sudden interest Billy has in searching out that figure drawing class himself. "You are still being careful, though, yes? Everything's on the up-and-up? Miranda--Professor Otto--she knows about those sessions? And you'll still be getting your other work done?"
"She knows, yeah. It’s good. It’s nothing--" Dominic hesitates to say the word sexual or any derivative of it in front of Billy. Saying the word makes him think of the act, and thinking of sex makes thinking of sex with Billy that much easier, and that's not an image he needs when there isn't going to be anything of the sort. Dominic squares his shoulders as if getting the worst of it out of the way. "I'm not with anyone at the moment, so being very safe."
"Oh," Billy says quietly. "No, I didn't mean to pry, I just. Well. Good, then. As long as you're comfortable, that's what matters." Billy nods firmly, his smile thin.
There's a silence between them, and Billy licks his lips, searching for what to say next. This hardly ever happens--not between two people who've bonded over philosophy and education and sometimes music and books. But now it's hard for Billy to not think about Dominic in a different and very distracting way. Billy rises to his feet and stretches his hand to Dominic, pulling him up. "As much as I could sit in here forever, there are coffee mugs with our names on them next door, Dom. Maybe even cake. Are you hungry?"
"Starving. I've been living off Pot Noodles for a bit so I'm happy to be able to afford something a little more this week." Dominic holds on to Billy's hand for a second longer than he needs to, just enjoying the feel of Billy's cool fingers in his own. When they pull away, Dominic is still blushing but smiling now, too. "I think I was pretty much subsisting off of those and your candy dish."
Dominic congratulates himself on justifying his visits to Billy's office, weak though the justification may be. He had just begun to wonder if Billy's come to suspect his real reason for showing up so often. He keeps his grin, taking a step toward the cash register. "My mum will be glad to know that I'm not working in the club anymore, even if I don't tell her exactly what I'm doing in the art department. She hated that and couldn't understand why I just wouldn't take money from her. Of course, now she'll just have more time to complain about how thin I am."
Billy settles in line behind Dominic, looking over Dominic now that it's safer to do so. "I did the Pot Noodle thing, too, you know. I think we've all had a year or three like that. But you're a good cook, and you know you can use the common room kitchen in your hall, don't you, Dom?" Another smile. "Use some of that good money from your work and cook yourself something decent. And then," Billy laughs once more, his eyes dancing, "bring some to me, too, because I seem to exist on takeaway."
Once they’ve paid for their books and entered the coffee shop, Billy nods toward a table at the back, light streaming across the wood. "Catch us that table, Dom, and let me take care of this."
Dominic nods and sits, the idea of cooking for Billy making him happier than it should. He's already planning menus in his head and anticipating Billy's rapture over his shepherd's pie and treacle tarts followed by long talks into the night over wine. Even longer nights as they crawl into Billy's bed and make love. There is a wide window next to their table, which overlooks the cross street. People pass by, rushing to wherever it is they are headed, but Dominic doesn't see them. His chin rests on his hand, and his eyes are far away--a very small but pleased smile on his lips. His thoughts have gone a long way from food.
"Dominic? Hello?"
Billy's voice is amused but strained, considering how he's balancing a tray of food in one hand and his bag of books in the other. Besides two plates of cake and assorted biscuits, the tray holds takeout containers of sturdy sandwiches, several small bags of crisps, two Flake bars, two large bottles of water, and the inevitable oversized coffee.
Dominic leaps to his feet, helping Billy with the tray with wide eyes, and Billy's smile grows devious. "You said you were starving," he teases Dominic. "Heaven forbid I turn this into an actual meeting, Dom, but I'll get the business taken care of quickly. I'm proud of you for considering taking on this double concentration, you know. I know you're capable of great things when you put your mind to it. And you should know that when I approached your German professor about it, she was just as pleased. She tells me your work has been exceptional, Dom--that your papers have impressed her very much. I wish I could read them myself. Here, be sure to get some of this cake before I destroy it, hmm?"
Dominic flushes under the praise that Billy gives so honestly and often. Being unused to it, he can only mumble his thanks until Billy pushes a slice of cake his way and he can distract himself with food. He listens to Billy talk about the additional courses that he'll need to take and the paperwork that will need to be signed and delivered to the proper offices, but his attention is divided between the sweets and the second of the sandwiches he's already half-devoured. He wasn't kidding when he told Billy he was starving.
"Will I be able to complete most of the required classes with you?" It's the first question he's interrupted Billy with, hoping that the answer is yes. More than hoping, considering that his decision to take on the double concentration has been made not a little easier by the idea of more time spent with Billy in that office he’s come to love.
Billy’s hand stills with his knife halfway across a slice of cream cake. "Hmm? Oh. I only teach four classes a year-two one term, two in the other. But yes, I teach several of the ones you'll need. The only things I teach every year are the introductory and senior seminar courses. I like that, you know, getting the babies and sometimes seeing them at the very end as well. People change so much over the years. They either wear down hard or flourish. I like to think you're going to flourish, Dom."
Billy takes another drink of his coffee. "We don't have many bastards in my department, Dom, so you needn't fear ending up with a teacher who wants to make your life difficult. And as your advisor, I’ll also be your advocate, Dom. Should you run into problems, you can always come to me, always." Billy reaches across the table to curve his hand firmly over Dominic's shoulder, offering him encouragement. "I told you that your success is as important to me as it is to you. I don't expect you to rest until you walk across that stage and receive your papers, and in return, I don't plan to rest either, Dom. Are we clear?"
Dominic finds himself leaning forward in his seat. He doesn't just want to hear Billy's words; he wants to absorb them. Become them. Give Billy a reason for the trust and interest being placed in him. Dominic doesn’t just want a quick shag to fulfill his wet dreams of the past term. He wants to feel this rush of pleasure every time Billy lays hands on him and tells him these things. He wants this all for his own and for all the time.
"I'll work really hard for you, Billy. I promise." Dominic’s brain catches up with his words a moment too late and he wonders if Billy caught the slip. Dominic knows he must have, as there isn't much that escapes the professor. "I mean, I'll not make you regret taking me on. For both our sakes."
"I'd sooner have you work very hard for yourself," Billy smiles. "And I've never regretted any investment I've made in a student, Dom. I doubt you'll be first to change that." Billy taps his fingers on the edge of the table, peering out the window. It's the truth he's said, but there is a part of Billy's mind--a part Billy couldn't honestly name small or insignificant--that reminds him that thus far, his investment in Dominic's academic future has been greater than any he's had since his own. There is something ... particular and other about Dominic that makes Billy want to see him succeed, to see him happy with the choices he makes--to see him happy, full stop. That realization is both uncomfortable and not, and something Billy pushes to one side along with his and Dominic's empty plates. Billy can feel Dominic's eyes on him, their keen gaze forcing Billy's turn to blush. Billy coughs suddenly and tidies up the platter between them, handing Dominic the two large unopened takeaway boxes. "For you," he says lightly. "Walk with me back to campus?"
This is how their meetings have ended lately: abruptly, with Dominic wondering if he's said something to give himself away. He hates to think that he's ever made Billy uncomfortable, and he imagines that having a student--a gay student--crushing on him must be hard. Dominic knows that once back in his room, he’ll analyze this entire meeting and decide that one plus one does add up to two, but that sum isn’t what Dominic is hoping for. For now, he stands up, gathers the boxes in his hands, meaning to protest against Billy's generosity but thanking him instead. Then they're back out on the pavement, Billy by his side and rambling once again, talking of everything and nothing. During their walk, Dominic slips back into his fantasy world. He lets Billy talk, enjoying his company even when he's ranting. Their hands bump once, mostly accidently, and it makes Dominic smile. This afternoon is more than he normally gets, and he imagines that it will be enough to carry him through what will be a difficult weekend with his parents.
It's only after they've gone through the main, opened gate of the campus' west side that Billy slows his pace, trying to relax. He turns his head to the side and inhales sharply at the sight of a copse of trees being torn down.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Billy hisses. "I'm sorry, Dom. Look at that." He points across the lawn to where a bulldozer and crane are being cranked into position. "I cannot believe this. What more do they plan to build? What more do they mean to destroy? They can't be thinking of another residence hall, and there's no call for more classrooms--if that turns into another administration building--" Billy turns back around, fire in his eyes, to face Dom. "Have you ever felt so utterly powerless? As if no one is listening no matter how clear you're making your point? I've spent weeks trying to get a meeting with Rhys-Davies about this, and while I realize that in the greater scheme of things my opinion means nothing, I've at least earned the right to express it."
Billy takes a breath and curls his hand around Dominic’s bicep, turning him so Dominic faces the trees. "I can't be the only one trying to be heard about this, either. We might as well not exist if we're unable to speak. Where there is no expression, there’s defeat and eventual destruction. And I will not stand by and say nothing as everything green on this campus is destroyed. If I can't be heard here, I'll go elsewhere; I'll write something, I don't know. If you felt something that strong but didn't express it, you'd eventually be defeated as well. Destroyed. We cannot allow that, do you hear?"
Billy exhales shakily, but doesn't release Dominic's arm. "I'm sorry," he says again, more softly. "I'm talking nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. I understand," Dominic whispers. His body relaxes, becoming pliable under Billy's hand. He's protested the recent changes on campus with a group of students--has since first coming to Baskerville--but that isn't what stops him. Billy's words are what shake him to the core. He often feels powerless--inconsequential. And now here stands Billy, his surprisingly strong hand holding Dominic's arm, and Dominic freezes, unable to move. He listens; with his whole soul, he listens. In his mind there is the steady sound of kiss me kiss me, though he knows Billy will not--wouldn't ever--and once again he feels Billy's words. "It's hard to speak out sometimes. Especially if you know your words won't make a difference. Especially if you know that what you want--what you think you need--is just a wish."
"All words make a difference, Dom," Billy sighs, letting his hand slide down Dominic's arm before he pulls away. "If only to ourselves. The point is that we must have the courage to say them." Billy nods Dominic back in the direction of the path, continuing their walk.
"I don't need for them to stop tearing down my trees, you know," Billy murmurs then, pushing his hands back into his pockets. "Definitely falls into the category of want, along with so much else. And I'm able to differentiate between need and want, at least most of the time. What is it that you need and wish, hmm?"
"Me?" The possibilities of what he wants tumble through Dominic's mind, to be stretched out beneath Billy on his bed being chief among them at the moment. The thought makes Dominic flush yet again but this time he laughs. He forms his answer along things he should want rather than the you, me, and a bed he wants to say. "Right now? To graduate. To be with someone I love. To see the Wu Tang Clan in concert."
He's gratified by Billy's laugh, and grins broadly, proud to have shaken Billy out of his mood. His original thought of what he needs, however, has not left him; rather, it makes him catalogue those things he sees when Billy laughs--how green his eyes are, how his head tips back just a bit when he laughs, and how broad his chest is. The last isn't so noticeable under his suit jacket and tie, but Dominic knows it's true. Dominic's own smile is wide, toothy and enough to make Billy want to stare again before he turns back to their path.
"You'll graduate, Dom, no worries there. And you'll find someone. You've heard the theories about there being one person on the earth meant specifically for another person. I won't say I necessarily believe that, but it's a happy notion, isn't it? And until we find that person, we content ourselves with what or who we do have, I suppose. Or in my case, what or who I don't. As for the Wu Tang Clan, unless they've broken up, there's always hope, right? Ah." Billy stops in front of the humanities building, raising a hand to wave to a workman, who promptly shakes his head and turns away.
Billy rolls his eyes and turns back to Dominic. "Unbelievable. Shall we continue on? I was thinking of going over to the music department, having a listen or a go on one of their old guitars. But I can't keep you if you've somewhere to be."
Study for an upcoming exam. Finish that German translation essay for Monday. Gather the laundry and pack before catching the train at seven. "No, I've nowhere to be." His grin grows impossibly wider as he follows Billy to the music building. "I've never heard you play, you know, though I've heard--” Dominic's smile turns shy. “They say you used to sing in a band sometimes. In Glasgow."
"Do they?" Billy's own smile twists into something other than pleased, but he's careful not to let the feeling reach his eyes or voice. "That was a long time ago."
They walk for a few moments in silence, Billy wracking his brain to remember whom on this campus he's told about those days. Perhaps it was Lestrade in the psychology department, or Wilson, the squat, ginger-haired professor of economics. Both came to Baskerville the same term as Billy, and it occurs to Billy that he hasn't spoken to either man in months, and he makes a mental note to do so as soon as he can. One needs friends, after all, and once made, they shouldn't be lost if possible.
Making friends does not come easily to Billy. It's easier for him to walk and talk with Dominic than it would be for him to socialize with most of his peers. It's not so much shyness as a hatred of academic kowtowing and the faking of further smiles. Billy realizes how much better it all could be if he could be more than just an advisor, a teacher, a sounding board, to Dom. If they could be--well, very good friends.
"I make a bit of a racket over in the music rooms," Billy smiles, tilting his face up to the fading sunlight. "They're very tolerant of me. I don't see how they could deny me a guest at this point, and of course, I'll expect you to bang away, too. Bring the ruckus, if you'd like." Billy climbs the steps of the building, energized again. "Come on, Dom," Billy calls, racing ahead. "We've some noise to make."
And they do, for a little more than two hours, Dominic walking quietly around the music rooms while Billy noodles away at the old piano, and coming to rest as soon as Billy picks up the guitar. Billy smiles to himself as he strums away, and whenever the thought occurs to him to sing along, Billy's quick to bite down on his tongue, instead just humming lightly to the music he's making.
After those two hours, though, Billy's hands are tired, and he settles his chin on them over the guitar, to watch as Dominic stretches his legs and flexes his bare toes before he rests a pair of small drums on his stomach and sighs.
"What a perfect day," Dominic breathes out, content for all of three seconds before the realization comes that he's said out loud what he's been thinking for a while.
Billy raises his eyebrows, surprised, but he supposes it has been something close to perfect, but he can also tell that Dominic's mood is darkening a little along with the room.
"I have to go to my parents' tonight. It was just good to have a nice afternoon before. That's all I meant." Dominic lies but still manages to smile as he closes his eyes this time so as not to see Billy's reaction. He supposes it's not really a lie, though.
"Is it so bad, Dom?" Billy asks quietly. "At home, I mean. Is it just general strain or something more? Perhaps you could just get some rest over this weekend, do your reading and see some friends." He sighs, watching the rise and fall of Dominic's chest, and then his eyes flit to the clock on the wall opposite them. "Dom, it's after five," he says quickly, already out of the chair and replacing the guitar on its stand. "When does your train leave?"
"Seven." Dominic knows that Billy is moving around, but he keeps his eyes closed, pretending that it's not ending--purposely chasing from his mind the thought that he hasn't even packed yet. He doesn't want to think of his parents now, but he knows there is no use avoiding it, not with Billy gathering their things. Sitting up, Dominic clasps his hands in front of him, not looking at Billy. "My dad will pick me up at the station. My mum will expect us to have dinner together as a family, during which they'll either ignore me or ride me about everything. Mostly my dad, but ..."
A shrug ends the thought and Dominic stands up, putting the drums back where he found them. "I go because my mum wants me to, but it's never different. I'll always be a disappointment to him, you know. Dinner will end with a fight, after which I'll leave and not be back until Sunday when my mum wants me to go to Mass with her, and my dad will ask the priest to pray for my soul. Meet the Monaghans. Don't suppose we could just stay here instead."
"I would like that," Billy says softly, "very much."
Before he can elaborate Billy turns on his heel and crosses the room to where Dominic stands. Billy imagines his hands rising suddenly to hold Dominic's face, to feel the warmth of his skin, and he pushes those hands deep into his pockets.
"Dom, I hate to think of you so uncomfortable in your own home. You must know they love you, even when they don't understand you. Your father--" Billy hesitates, but pushes on after a moment. "He's a hard man, from what you tell me, but he must be proud of what you've accomplished here. Perhaps he just needs more time to realize that you're an adult, and that the choices you've made are just that--yours. Can't imagine he's led his entire life without upsetting his parents once or twice, yeah?" Billy ventures a smile. "Should you end up going out, I ask you to be careful, Dom. And as for your Mum, well. You said you're holding a bit of extra cash now, yes? D'you think you could take her out sometime over the weekend, just the two of you? And maybe not after Mass. Don't rise to her bait or your father's. Be strong, Dom," he smiles again. "I know you can be."
Billy nods Dominic in the direction of the building's exit, and they descend to the campus grounds quietly. "My car's back over there," Billy points toward a far path. "Otherwise I'd offer you a lift to your hall. I'll be thinking of you this weekend, Dom. Consider what I've said, and let me know Monday how it goes."
"Thanks, Billy." Dominic again uses Billy's name, but this time it's on purpose. He's becoming more comfortable saying it, especially as Billy doesn't seem to mind. It's almost enough to believe that this weekend will be good, because Billy will be thinking of him and Dominic actually dreads it a bit less because he's already thinking about his meeting with Billy on Monday.
On impulse, Dominic reaches for Billy's hand, squeezing Billy's fingers in his own. He can feel the calluses on the tips of his fingers and on his palm--a bit cold, at least against Dominic’s, and Dominic's both surprised and not when his mind gives him a flash of what those hands would feel like on his skin. It's a thought that turns his grin into something softer before he abruptly drops Billy's hand and turns towards the path leading to his room. "I'll see you on Monday, then," he calls out, waving a hand in farewell. "Thanks again for everything."
Authors: escribo and kiltsandlollies
Characters: Dominic and Billy
Rating: PG
Word count: 5301
Summary:
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
A year ago, Dominic would have never thought of taking a second concentration; he wouldn't have believed himself capable. But the words what do you think about had barely left Billy's mouth before he was nodding eagerly, willing to agree to almost any suggestion Billy made. Saying no hadn't even occurred to him, though the thought of taking more philosophy courses scared him. The possibility of having Billy as his advisor--being able to spend more time with him without having to come up with ridiculous excuses--more than outweighs his fear. Some of those meetings might even take place off campus--like today's. Dates, except not. Still, Dominic finds the idea of being away from campus and alone with Billy exciting.
Of course, today, as much as Dominic would like to congratulate himself for getting Billy to agree to a meeting at the little coffee shop off campus, he didn't actually have anything to do with it. He owes that debt of gratitude to the university for letting a small leak become a larger one, which has now flooded the third floor of the humanities building. Minor disasters don't count as dates, he knows, but that hadn't stopped him from printing out the email Billy had sent on the subject, saving it as if it were a much more personal correspondence.
Perhaps you've heard that life vests and oars are now required in order to visit professors. As I'm already deeply chagrined about the cost of the text you've been forced to acquired in order to become philosophically learned, I won't make you purchase a boat to see me. Let's say we'll meet at the coffee shop on Telling Ave. As often as I've seen you with cups from there, I imagine you know the place of which I speak. Same time and my treat.
See you there.
It takes a great imagination to interpret such a missive as a date, but Dominic figures it's been a long week and will be an even longer weekend once he catches the train this evening to visit his parents, so indulging in a bit of fantasy seems harmless. With his pay in his pocket and a healthy blush still in his cheeks from the test shots one of Professor Otto's post grad students had taken in the photography studios earlier in the day, he sets out across campus for the meeting. Confident that he won't be late, Dominic decides to browse a little in the bookshop, and maybe look for the book that Billy had been reading. Pulling the book from the shelf, he bites his lip. Definitely a rich fantasy life, one that's only somewhat interrupted when Billy finds Dominic among the stacks.
"Excellent choice, Dom," Billy's voice carries from above where Dominic crouches, and he smiles at the copy of The Waterworks Dominic holds. "What else have you found?"
"Just this. I only just started to look but I've heard this one was good." Holding up the book, Dominic looks again at the cover, hoping Billy doesn't ask what he's heard about it. The truth is nothing, and a brief perusal of the dust jacket didn't promise anything he'd really enjoy, other than the story being of obvious interest to Billy--it had been from inside Billy's copy of the book that Dominic had taken the thin leather bookmark the night of the postgraduate presentations. "Just got paid today so I thought I throw it back into books." Dominic laughs even as he tilts his head to see the titles that Billy holds. "You're making out well, it looks like."
"To be honest with you, I'm not likely to buy more than a few of these. There are enough half-finished books in my house already to fill half these shelves. I'm pleased you've found this place, Dom," he nods. "It's perfect to while away an afternoon, especially when the coffee shop gets too full."
The coffee shop and this store have become satellite offices for Billy over the last several days. Billy's refused to take appointments or office hours in his makeshift office in the building, instead taking them mostly outdoors or in these fine establishments. He'd perused the shelves in here for some time before he'd seen Dominic, concentrating on a row of books as if he'd known exactly what he'd been looking for, and now Dominic looks triumphant enough with his find, grinning at the cover until Billy discovers they have a visitor peering around the corner of the shelves.
"Have you met Arthur?" Billy asks Dominic, and as if on cue, the bookshop owner's small, friendly brown dog bounds toward Billy, lured by the sound of his name and the scent of something in Billy's pocket. "There you are, you rat bastard," Billy mock-growls at the dog. "Something to eat, then? Biscuits for Arthur?"
Billy feeds a biscuit he'd stolen earlier from the teacart in the science break room to the dog with one hand while the other travels along the bookshelves. "Arthur, what? I haven't got anything else. Come and meet Dom." Billy pushes the dog gently in Dominic's direction and sits back on his heels. "He won't bite you," he laughs. "He doesn't even bite me, and I'm horrible to him." After a pause, Billy lowers his voice. "You're looking well, Dominic. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. Doing well. Even if I've a paper due for this really tough professor on Tuesday morning." Sitting on the floor next to Billy, Dominic doesn't look up from Arthur as he pets the dog, scratching behind its ears before he turns his head to sneeze. "I have a bit of a job in the art department."
Dominic can feel his ears grow hot and tries to reason that it's from mentioning his modeling job, but he knows that it has more to do with the pleasure of Billy noticing a change in his appearance. Dominic laughs to see Arthur nuzzle about Billy again, his muzzle half inside Billy's coat pocket. "I don't think he believes you about the biscuits."
"And he's right not to," Billy smiles, sliding down to sit completely on the floor, allowing the dog to get closer. "Alright, alright. Two more, Arthur, but that's it, do you understand? Messy little cur." The dog devours one biscuit whole before taking the other in his mouth and moving to his bed behind the registers. Billy watches him go, brushing dog hair from his trousers before turning again to Dominic. "A job on campus? That's fantastic, Dom. What is it you’ll be doing? Tell me everything. We can talk about your paper later."
Dominic brings his legs up to his chest and rests his cheek on his knees. It's not that he's embarrassed by what he’ll be doing; if he were, he wouldn't do it. Professor Otto’s gone out of her way to make him feel safe and comfortable, and showing his body has never bothered Dominic. Still, it's not something he plans to run around telling people. Very few of his friends will ever know, except the section of art students who will end up seeing him completely naked. "I’ll be modeling for some of the art department's classes. The … em. The figure drawing classes and such. Anatomy."
Dominic carefully watches Billy as he waits for a reaction, a little afraid. He doesn't want the job to be misunderstood as something shady. But it's Billy, Dominic reasons, and Billy isn't likely to judge him or his work. He clears his throat and sits up, crossing his legs. "The pay’s pretty good, and all I’ll have to do is sit there for an hour or so per session. One of the postgrad students might be paying a little extra for private sessions, too, but ..." Dominic ends on a shrug, still waiting for Billy's approval and finding that he really wants it. "You don't think it's a mistake, do you? That I'm ... I don't know."
"No," Billy says quickly. "No, I think it's great-I know they've needed models so often in the past, and most people are much too shy, even when they're good--candidates, I suppose is the word? And your concentration and focus will be getting quite the workout, which is also great." Billy looks at Dominic carefully, considering some other things Dominic's told him in the past. It's easier to revert to the role of an advisor than to confront the sudden interest Billy has in searching out that figure drawing class himself. "You are still being careful, though, yes? Everything's on the up-and-up? Miranda--Professor Otto--she knows about those sessions? And you'll still be getting your other work done?"
"She knows, yeah. It’s good. It’s nothing--" Dominic hesitates to say the word sexual or any derivative of it in front of Billy. Saying the word makes him think of the act, and thinking of sex makes thinking of sex with Billy that much easier, and that's not an image he needs when there isn't going to be anything of the sort. Dominic squares his shoulders as if getting the worst of it out of the way. "I'm not with anyone at the moment, so being very safe."
"Oh," Billy says quietly. "No, I didn't mean to pry, I just. Well. Good, then. As long as you're comfortable, that's what matters." Billy nods firmly, his smile thin.
There's a silence between them, and Billy licks his lips, searching for what to say next. This hardly ever happens--not between two people who've bonded over philosophy and education and sometimes music and books. But now it's hard for Billy to not think about Dominic in a different and very distracting way. Billy rises to his feet and stretches his hand to Dominic, pulling him up. "As much as I could sit in here forever, there are coffee mugs with our names on them next door, Dom. Maybe even cake. Are you hungry?"
"Starving. I've been living off Pot Noodles for a bit so I'm happy to be able to afford something a little more this week." Dominic holds on to Billy's hand for a second longer than he needs to, just enjoying the feel of Billy's cool fingers in his own. When they pull away, Dominic is still blushing but smiling now, too. "I think I was pretty much subsisting off of those and your candy dish."
Dominic congratulates himself on justifying his visits to Billy's office, weak though the justification may be. He had just begun to wonder if Billy's come to suspect his real reason for showing up so often. He keeps his grin, taking a step toward the cash register. "My mum will be glad to know that I'm not working in the club anymore, even if I don't tell her exactly what I'm doing in the art department. She hated that and couldn't understand why I just wouldn't take money from her. Of course, now she'll just have more time to complain about how thin I am."
Billy settles in line behind Dominic, looking over Dominic now that it's safer to do so. "I did the Pot Noodle thing, too, you know. I think we've all had a year or three like that. But you're a good cook, and you know you can use the common room kitchen in your hall, don't you, Dom?" Another smile. "Use some of that good money from your work and cook yourself something decent. And then," Billy laughs once more, his eyes dancing, "bring some to me, too, because I seem to exist on takeaway."
Once they’ve paid for their books and entered the coffee shop, Billy nods toward a table at the back, light streaming across the wood. "Catch us that table, Dom, and let me take care of this."
Dominic nods and sits, the idea of cooking for Billy making him happier than it should. He's already planning menus in his head and anticipating Billy's rapture over his shepherd's pie and treacle tarts followed by long talks into the night over wine. Even longer nights as they crawl into Billy's bed and make love. There is a wide window next to their table, which overlooks the cross street. People pass by, rushing to wherever it is they are headed, but Dominic doesn't see them. His chin rests on his hand, and his eyes are far away--a very small but pleased smile on his lips. His thoughts have gone a long way from food.
"Dominic? Hello?"
Billy's voice is amused but strained, considering how he's balancing a tray of food in one hand and his bag of books in the other. Besides two plates of cake and assorted biscuits, the tray holds takeout containers of sturdy sandwiches, several small bags of crisps, two Flake bars, two large bottles of water, and the inevitable oversized coffee.
Dominic leaps to his feet, helping Billy with the tray with wide eyes, and Billy's smile grows devious. "You said you were starving," he teases Dominic. "Heaven forbid I turn this into an actual meeting, Dom, but I'll get the business taken care of quickly. I'm proud of you for considering taking on this double concentration, you know. I know you're capable of great things when you put your mind to it. And you should know that when I approached your German professor about it, she was just as pleased. She tells me your work has been exceptional, Dom--that your papers have impressed her very much. I wish I could read them myself. Here, be sure to get some of this cake before I destroy it, hmm?"
Dominic flushes under the praise that Billy gives so honestly and often. Being unused to it, he can only mumble his thanks until Billy pushes a slice of cake his way and he can distract himself with food. He listens to Billy talk about the additional courses that he'll need to take and the paperwork that will need to be signed and delivered to the proper offices, but his attention is divided between the sweets and the second of the sandwiches he's already half-devoured. He wasn't kidding when he told Billy he was starving.
"Will I be able to complete most of the required classes with you?" It's the first question he's interrupted Billy with, hoping that the answer is yes. More than hoping, considering that his decision to take on the double concentration has been made not a little easier by the idea of more time spent with Billy in that office he’s come to love.
Billy’s hand stills with his knife halfway across a slice of cream cake. "Hmm? Oh. I only teach four classes a year-two one term, two in the other. But yes, I teach several of the ones you'll need. The only things I teach every year are the introductory and senior seminar courses. I like that, you know, getting the babies and sometimes seeing them at the very end as well. People change so much over the years. They either wear down hard or flourish. I like to think you're going to flourish, Dom."
Billy takes another drink of his coffee. "We don't have many bastards in my department, Dom, so you needn't fear ending up with a teacher who wants to make your life difficult. And as your advisor, I’ll also be your advocate, Dom. Should you run into problems, you can always come to me, always." Billy reaches across the table to curve his hand firmly over Dominic's shoulder, offering him encouragement. "I told you that your success is as important to me as it is to you. I don't expect you to rest until you walk across that stage and receive your papers, and in return, I don't plan to rest either, Dom. Are we clear?"
Dominic finds himself leaning forward in his seat. He doesn't just want to hear Billy's words; he wants to absorb them. Become them. Give Billy a reason for the trust and interest being placed in him. Dominic doesn’t just want a quick shag to fulfill his wet dreams of the past term. He wants to feel this rush of pleasure every time Billy lays hands on him and tells him these things. He wants this all for his own and for all the time.
"I'll work really hard for you, Billy. I promise." Dominic’s brain catches up with his words a moment too late and he wonders if Billy caught the slip. Dominic knows he must have, as there isn't much that escapes the professor. "I mean, I'll not make you regret taking me on. For both our sakes."
"I'd sooner have you work very hard for yourself," Billy smiles. "And I've never regretted any investment I've made in a student, Dom. I doubt you'll be first to change that." Billy taps his fingers on the edge of the table, peering out the window. It's the truth he's said, but there is a part of Billy's mind--a part Billy couldn't honestly name small or insignificant--that reminds him that thus far, his investment in Dominic's academic future has been greater than any he's had since his own. There is something ... particular and other about Dominic that makes Billy want to see him succeed, to see him happy with the choices he makes--to see him happy, full stop. That realization is both uncomfortable and not, and something Billy pushes to one side along with his and Dominic's empty plates. Billy can feel Dominic's eyes on him, their keen gaze forcing Billy's turn to blush. Billy coughs suddenly and tidies up the platter between them, handing Dominic the two large unopened takeaway boxes. "For you," he says lightly. "Walk with me back to campus?"
This is how their meetings have ended lately: abruptly, with Dominic wondering if he's said something to give himself away. He hates to think that he's ever made Billy uncomfortable, and he imagines that having a student--a gay student--crushing on him must be hard. Dominic knows that once back in his room, he’ll analyze this entire meeting and decide that one plus one does add up to two, but that sum isn’t what Dominic is hoping for. For now, he stands up, gathers the boxes in his hands, meaning to protest against Billy's generosity but thanking him instead. Then they're back out on the pavement, Billy by his side and rambling once again, talking of everything and nothing. During their walk, Dominic slips back into his fantasy world. He lets Billy talk, enjoying his company even when he's ranting. Their hands bump once, mostly accidently, and it makes Dominic smile. This afternoon is more than he normally gets, and he imagines that it will be enough to carry him through what will be a difficult weekend with his parents.
It's only after they've gone through the main, opened gate of the campus' west side that Billy slows his pace, trying to relax. He turns his head to the side and inhales sharply at the sight of a copse of trees being torn down.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Billy hisses. "I'm sorry, Dom. Look at that." He points across the lawn to where a bulldozer and crane are being cranked into position. "I cannot believe this. What more do they plan to build? What more do they mean to destroy? They can't be thinking of another residence hall, and there's no call for more classrooms--if that turns into another administration building--" Billy turns back around, fire in his eyes, to face Dom. "Have you ever felt so utterly powerless? As if no one is listening no matter how clear you're making your point? I've spent weeks trying to get a meeting with Rhys-Davies about this, and while I realize that in the greater scheme of things my opinion means nothing, I've at least earned the right to express it."
Billy takes a breath and curls his hand around Dominic’s bicep, turning him so Dominic faces the trees. "I can't be the only one trying to be heard about this, either. We might as well not exist if we're unable to speak. Where there is no expression, there’s defeat and eventual destruction. And I will not stand by and say nothing as everything green on this campus is destroyed. If I can't be heard here, I'll go elsewhere; I'll write something, I don't know. If you felt something that strong but didn't express it, you'd eventually be defeated as well. Destroyed. We cannot allow that, do you hear?"
Billy exhales shakily, but doesn't release Dominic's arm. "I'm sorry," he says again, more softly. "I'm talking nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. I understand," Dominic whispers. His body relaxes, becoming pliable under Billy's hand. He's protested the recent changes on campus with a group of students--has since first coming to Baskerville--but that isn't what stops him. Billy's words are what shake him to the core. He often feels powerless--inconsequential. And now here stands Billy, his surprisingly strong hand holding Dominic's arm, and Dominic freezes, unable to move. He listens; with his whole soul, he listens. In his mind there is the steady sound of kiss me kiss me, though he knows Billy will not--wouldn't ever--and once again he feels Billy's words. "It's hard to speak out sometimes. Especially if you know your words won't make a difference. Especially if you know that what you want--what you think you need--is just a wish."
"All words make a difference, Dom," Billy sighs, letting his hand slide down Dominic's arm before he pulls away. "If only to ourselves. The point is that we must have the courage to say them." Billy nods Dominic back in the direction of the path, continuing their walk.
"I don't need for them to stop tearing down my trees, you know," Billy murmurs then, pushing his hands back into his pockets. "Definitely falls into the category of want, along with so much else. And I'm able to differentiate between need and want, at least most of the time. What is it that you need and wish, hmm?"
"Me?" The possibilities of what he wants tumble through Dominic's mind, to be stretched out beneath Billy on his bed being chief among them at the moment. The thought makes Dominic flush yet again but this time he laughs. He forms his answer along things he should want rather than the you, me, and a bed he wants to say. "Right now? To graduate. To be with someone I love. To see the Wu Tang Clan in concert."
He's gratified by Billy's laugh, and grins broadly, proud to have shaken Billy out of his mood. His original thought of what he needs, however, has not left him; rather, it makes him catalogue those things he sees when Billy laughs--how green his eyes are, how his head tips back just a bit when he laughs, and how broad his chest is. The last isn't so noticeable under his suit jacket and tie, but Dominic knows it's true. Dominic's own smile is wide, toothy and enough to make Billy want to stare again before he turns back to their path.
"You'll graduate, Dom, no worries there. And you'll find someone. You've heard the theories about there being one person on the earth meant specifically for another person. I won't say I necessarily believe that, but it's a happy notion, isn't it? And until we find that person, we content ourselves with what or who we do have, I suppose. Or in my case, what or who I don't. As for the Wu Tang Clan, unless they've broken up, there's always hope, right? Ah." Billy stops in front of the humanities building, raising a hand to wave to a workman, who promptly shakes his head and turns away.
Billy rolls his eyes and turns back to Dominic. "Unbelievable. Shall we continue on? I was thinking of going over to the music department, having a listen or a go on one of their old guitars. But I can't keep you if you've somewhere to be."
Study for an upcoming exam. Finish that German translation essay for Monday. Gather the laundry and pack before catching the train at seven. "No, I've nowhere to be." His grin grows impossibly wider as he follows Billy to the music building. "I've never heard you play, you know, though I've heard--” Dominic's smile turns shy. “They say you used to sing in a band sometimes. In Glasgow."
"Do they?" Billy's own smile twists into something other than pleased, but he's careful not to let the feeling reach his eyes or voice. "That was a long time ago."
They walk for a few moments in silence, Billy wracking his brain to remember whom on this campus he's told about those days. Perhaps it was Lestrade in the psychology department, or Wilson, the squat, ginger-haired professor of economics. Both came to Baskerville the same term as Billy, and it occurs to Billy that he hasn't spoken to either man in months, and he makes a mental note to do so as soon as he can. One needs friends, after all, and once made, they shouldn't be lost if possible.
Making friends does not come easily to Billy. It's easier for him to walk and talk with Dominic than it would be for him to socialize with most of his peers. It's not so much shyness as a hatred of academic kowtowing and the faking of further smiles. Billy realizes how much better it all could be if he could be more than just an advisor, a teacher, a sounding board, to Dom. If they could be--well, very good friends.
"I make a bit of a racket over in the music rooms," Billy smiles, tilting his face up to the fading sunlight. "They're very tolerant of me. I don't see how they could deny me a guest at this point, and of course, I'll expect you to bang away, too. Bring the ruckus, if you'd like." Billy climbs the steps of the building, energized again. "Come on, Dom," Billy calls, racing ahead. "We've some noise to make."
And they do, for a little more than two hours, Dominic walking quietly around the music rooms while Billy noodles away at the old piano, and coming to rest as soon as Billy picks up the guitar. Billy smiles to himself as he strums away, and whenever the thought occurs to him to sing along, Billy's quick to bite down on his tongue, instead just humming lightly to the music he's making.
After those two hours, though, Billy's hands are tired, and he settles his chin on them over the guitar, to watch as Dominic stretches his legs and flexes his bare toes before he rests a pair of small drums on his stomach and sighs.
"What a perfect day," Dominic breathes out, content for all of three seconds before the realization comes that he's said out loud what he's been thinking for a while.
Billy raises his eyebrows, surprised, but he supposes it has been something close to perfect, but he can also tell that Dominic's mood is darkening a little along with the room.
"I have to go to my parents' tonight. It was just good to have a nice afternoon before. That's all I meant." Dominic lies but still manages to smile as he closes his eyes this time so as not to see Billy's reaction. He supposes it's not really a lie, though.
"Is it so bad, Dom?" Billy asks quietly. "At home, I mean. Is it just general strain or something more? Perhaps you could just get some rest over this weekend, do your reading and see some friends." He sighs, watching the rise and fall of Dominic's chest, and then his eyes flit to the clock on the wall opposite them. "Dom, it's after five," he says quickly, already out of the chair and replacing the guitar on its stand. "When does your train leave?"
"Seven." Dominic knows that Billy is moving around, but he keeps his eyes closed, pretending that it's not ending--purposely chasing from his mind the thought that he hasn't even packed yet. He doesn't want to think of his parents now, but he knows there is no use avoiding it, not with Billy gathering their things. Sitting up, Dominic clasps his hands in front of him, not looking at Billy. "My dad will pick me up at the station. My mum will expect us to have dinner together as a family, during which they'll either ignore me or ride me about everything. Mostly my dad, but ..."
A shrug ends the thought and Dominic stands up, putting the drums back where he found them. "I go because my mum wants me to, but it's never different. I'll always be a disappointment to him, you know. Dinner will end with a fight, after which I'll leave and not be back until Sunday when my mum wants me to go to Mass with her, and my dad will ask the priest to pray for my soul. Meet the Monaghans. Don't suppose we could just stay here instead."
"I would like that," Billy says softly, "very much."
Before he can elaborate Billy turns on his heel and crosses the room to where Dominic stands. Billy imagines his hands rising suddenly to hold Dominic's face, to feel the warmth of his skin, and he pushes those hands deep into his pockets.
"Dom, I hate to think of you so uncomfortable in your own home. You must know they love you, even when they don't understand you. Your father--" Billy hesitates, but pushes on after a moment. "He's a hard man, from what you tell me, but he must be proud of what you've accomplished here. Perhaps he just needs more time to realize that you're an adult, and that the choices you've made are just that--yours. Can't imagine he's led his entire life without upsetting his parents once or twice, yeah?" Billy ventures a smile. "Should you end up going out, I ask you to be careful, Dom. And as for your Mum, well. You said you're holding a bit of extra cash now, yes? D'you think you could take her out sometime over the weekend, just the two of you? And maybe not after Mass. Don't rise to her bait or your father's. Be strong, Dom," he smiles again. "I know you can be."
Billy nods Dominic in the direction of the building's exit, and they descend to the campus grounds quietly. "My car's back over there," Billy points toward a far path. "Otherwise I'd offer you a lift to your hall. I'll be thinking of you this weekend, Dom. Consider what I've said, and let me know Monday how it goes."
"Thanks, Billy." Dominic again uses Billy's name, but this time it's on purpose. He's becoming more comfortable saying it, especially as Billy doesn't seem to mind. It's almost enough to believe that this weekend will be good, because Billy will be thinking of him and Dominic actually dreads it a bit less because he's already thinking about his meeting with Billy on Monday.
On impulse, Dominic reaches for Billy's hand, squeezing Billy's fingers in his own. He can feel the calluses on the tips of his fingers and on his palm--a bit cold, at least against Dominic’s, and Dominic's both surprised and not when his mind gives him a flash of what those hands would feel like on his skin. It's a thought that turns his grin into something softer before he abruptly drops Billy's hand and turns towards the path leading to his room. "I'll see you on Monday, then," he calls out, waving a hand in farewell. "Thanks again for everything."