Book 5, Chapter 4: Science and Progress (1/3)
Title: Science and Progress (1/3)
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic, Billy
Word count: 3546
Summary: In which failure is not an option.
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.
Dominic sits at the uncomfortable wooden desk in his biology lecture, trying not to count the minutes until he receives back the biology test he’d spent all weekend studying for, trying to make up for a month’s worth of pretending he didn’t care about anything. The prep work for the test has made Dominic miss days of Billy’s company now, and that annoys Dominic as much as his own haphazard handling of everything involving the class in the first place. Two rushed phone calls had been all they’d enjoyed: one on Friday letting Billy know where he was and what he was doing, the other on Sunday night, ending with promises of a more pleasant result to the next weekend.
The memory of that call spreads a small smile across Dominic’s face, one that remains until his biology professor, Dr. Stinson, enters the room, and Dominic’s reminded sharply of the man’s refusal to help him on Friday, punctuated by his assertion that had you been in class and paying attention, Mr. Monaghan, instead of looking for extra attention now, you would have no problem passing this test. Dominic hadn’t had the right words to answer that, and so he’d simply apologized for wasting the professor’s time before asking another student in the section for whatever help she could give. That student had spent the better part of Friday night flirting with him instead, and so Dominic had set his shoulders to figure things out on his own, had tried to rein in his restlessness and focus on learning metabolic pathways.
After downing insane amounts of caffeine all weekend and the feared morning, Dominic had managed to survive the test. Twelve hours of sleep followed, and then Dominic had spent his time frantically trying to go over his notes of several weeks’ worth of philosophy reading in an effort to write yet another assigned paper. Dominic has to hope Billy will forgive him for skiving off yesterday, but he’d needed the time to catch up, and he now has five pages of that assignment completed, his German work in good order, too and, he hoped, a decent grade on his biology examination.
The torture of wondering if he’d actually received that decent grade elevates as the professor proceeds to launch into a two-hour lecture on enzymes and Dominic attempts, honestly attempts, to focus and take notes. Across the top and side of his notes is written, underlined, outlined, and bolded Be Still, which he hears muttered again and again in his mind in Billy’s accent. The sound leads to memories of Billy’s mouth, which lead to memories of last Thursday night, which lead to a flush in Dominic’s cheeks and a promise to himself that he would wait for Billy at his house tomorrow night, and sliding straight into Billy’s bed to--Enzymes, Dominic tells himself sharply, cutting off more pleasant thoughts. Right.
Finally, Dr. Stinson finishes up his lecture and picks up the pile of marked tests to pass back. Dominic doesn’t think in any way that he’d mastered the concepts enough to have aced this test, but he’s quite sure that he’s at least passed it. He drums his fingers on the desk nervously, watching as most of the other students take their tests and leave the room; Dominic’s own is apparently at the bottom of the pile, and that’s not a good sign. As the professor calls out the final names, Dominic slings his rucksack over his shoulder and goes to stand at the podium to receive his test.
He starts to leave the room, unfolding the booklet to reveal a failing grade. Dominic stops and flips through the pages, finding more red ink on some pages than his own words in black. Turning back around, he approaches Dr. Stinson, erasing the blackboard meticulously.
“Excuse me, sir.”
“Yes, Monaghan.”
Dominic bites his lip at the curtness in the professor’s voice but decides to push forward. “I don’t understand my mark. I really studied for this one, sir.”
“Not enough, clearly.”
“But the concepts are correct. These are mostly spelling errors you marked. You said at the beginning of the term that you weren’t going to focus on the small things if we got the concepts right.”
Stinson turns to face Dominic, irritation and amusement mixed in his eyes. “I’m sure I said no such thing.”
“But you did--”
“Even if I had, spelling, grammar, and punctuation are not small things, Mr. Monaghan. Would you have written that carelessly for one of your literature classes? I think not, or you wouldn’t be here in the first place, would you.”
Dominic blinks; it’s an old tune playing in his head now, telling him he’s never earned his way into any of his classes, that he’s never belonged here and never will. “Please, professor. I’ll fail the class with this mark--there’s not even time to make up for it, and you haven’t scheduled another test with this much weight until the end--”
Stinson’s sigh stops Dominic’s cold, and his stare makes Dominic swallow hard. Stinson begins to gather his things from the desk, speaking over his shoulder now at Dominic. “As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Monaghan, you nearly failed this section the moment you walked in the door. I know some at this university like to coddle students with learning issues like yours, but I don’t, and I’m under no obligation to do so. Had you come to class--”
“I explained--”
“Mr. Monaghan, you offered me one sorry excuse after the other. I expect to teach students of a certain calibre, and unfortunately you do not fit that bill. There are remedial science courses you could perhaps attempt before you make an effort at this level, if you or your parents believe it’s worth the time. And if not,” Stinson shrugs, and continues almost kindly. “I suggest you take whatever cleverness got you this far and seek a job somewhere in a less academic industry, where it may do you some good.”
Dominic lowers his eyes to the floor, stunned and biting back harsher words. “Please, Professor. I made an effort. My marks are better now than they were before--before. You know this, sir.”
“What I know, Mr. Monaghan, is what I see in your work. I don’t need to know anything about you or what sort of wrong turns you’ve taken over the last few months or how you made your way back. You’d be better off not wasting your time or mine, and before you take the risk of humiliating yourself, I’ll leave you.” Stinson picks up his briefcase and heads to the door, turning back to Dominic just before he leaves. “I understand how your relative charm has endeared you to some of your other professors, and they may well have reason to give you as many chances as you need. I do not. Put your back into something other than being charming and do grow up, or you risk more than failing my class.”
Dominic stands alone in the room for long moments afterward, trying to control his emotions. He’s still shocked, knocked nearly breathless by what the professor’s thrown at him, and the very real possibility that he’s done too much damage this year to recover makes itself felt again. Shoving the wreckage of his test into his rucksack, Dominic finally leaves the science building and heads toward the library, intent on salvaging something of this afternoon. Passing the humanities building, Dominic stops to stare at the window he knows belongs to Billy’s office, and he takes two more steps, trying to resist going inside.
The fight doesn’t last long, though; taking the steps two at a time to Billy’s floor, Dominic walks down the quiet hall, half-hoping, half-dreading that Billy’s in, and that he’s alone. Coming closer, he hears two voices inside Billy’s office and spends a few minutes pacing, wondering whether he should leave. But then a student steps from the office, Billy’s voice following her as he, too, moves toward the office door.
“I don’t expect you to remember everything I’ve explained in your lecture, you must know that,” Billy’s saying gently to the young girl preparing to leave. “I do expect you to remember what we’ve all discussed together, and I expect you to have done the readings. You’ve attended every class, Siobhan; I don’t think you have anything to fear.” The girl nods, and Billy ushers her out pleasantly, his smile fading a little the moment she is gone.
“Mr. Monaghan,” Billy says, just a bit too loudly to Dominic’s ears, and as he turns he finds it’s more for the benefit of a certain administrator walking by than for Dominic himself. “Good to see you.”
Dominic manages a smile to match the bemused one across Billy’s face, and walks past Billy into the office before he flops onto the couch, clutching his rucksack to his chest and feeling like a complete idiot, running here simply because he’d received a mark he probably deserves. But there’s more to what he’s feeling than that, Dominic knows; it’s that he failed this test after studying hard and properly, even if hadn’t been enough, wanting to make both Billy and himself proud. It’s that he’s certain now that he’ll fail biology, that even if he does well the rest of the term, Stinson will not let him pass. And finally, it’s because he’s been insulted all too well and too familiarly, and it still burns. Stinson had said aloud things Dominic’s too often believed about himself--confirming them in his mind--things that he knows his family and perhaps some of his friends believe about him as well.
Dominic waits until Billy has closed the door before looking up again. He’d do a lot to hear again the things Billy’s always told him, things that make him believe in himself again. There’s no easy way to ask for that, and so instead, Dominic lowers his eyes and clears his throat. “I wrote some of the assignment. I was wondering if you would look at it for me.”
“Of course,” Billy says, but he’s frowning a bit, confused. “The thing is, Dom, you know I can't help you with it much more than I already have, and I answered several questions about the topics today in class, but you didn't--” Billy pauses and then extends his hand for the essay. “Here. Let's have a look.”
Billy waits for Dominic to produce the paper, and Dominic chews on his lip, knowing that Billy knows there’s something more going on here. While Dominic has been prone to avoid telling Billy things that are bothering him, they both know Dominic’s never been able to hide the extent of his disappointment in anything or anyone for long, least of all himself and the things he’s done, and that the truth will come out sooner or later.
Billy looks tired, though less so than Dominic feels, and not in the ugly, drawn way Dominic had seen before they’d sorted things out between them. Dominic knows Billy’s recently come to dread office hours at this time of year; his students--Dominic included--come to him slack-jawed and bloodshot of eye, burnt out from studying and hyperkinetic from caffeine. Billy’s admitted to Dominic that he enjoys neither the company of these rattled students nor their questions, but he tries to keep his irritation to himself and help them. Billy’s also told Dominic that he’s well aware that students live in terror of his own exams--and that if he’s honest, he likes that--so he forces himself to be kind to the handful of them that march into his office faithfully, week after week. As Billy scans the first several paragraphs of Dominic's paper, nodding and occasionally pursing his lips, Dominic wonders how it’s never seemed that difficult for Billy to extend that kindness to him, in terms of his work and their lives outside these walls..
When Billy’s finished, he removes his glasses and takes a deep breath before he speaks. “It's good, Dom. You have a decent grasp on what we've discussed. Run it through a spellchecker, though, yeah? And consider changing the order of these two paragraphs, yeah? Because your logic doesn't follow ...” Billy sighs. “Look, Dom, I'm sorry. It's a good start, really. But I can't tell you anything else; it’s unfair to your classmates.” Dominic nods, not really listening but looking at the floor. Billy places Dominic's paper on the small table near the couch before he stands and locks his office door, then returns to crouch in front of Dominic, taking the rucksack from him. Dominic resists a little, not wanting to give it up, and feeling exposed when he does. “Were you planning to tell me what’s in your head now, Dom, or did y’need me to take it from you?”
"You can't fix it for me, Billy," Dominic says quickly, closing his eyes, and he feels Billy rising to sit next to him on the couch. When he does, Dominic leans against Billy a bit, and his words, when they come, rush out in one breath. "It was a shit week, Billy, and I missed you, I missed the house, and I worked like you wouldn’t fucking believe, but there’s no point anymore, yeah? I'm going to fail biology. Dr. Stinson said I should just stop humiliating myself and leave it, and maybe he's right, maybe I should. And then this--” Dominic throws an irritated hand, and Billy’s fingers, moving idly through Dominic’s hair, still and tug. Dominic can feel the suppressed energy in Billy’s touch, the defensive shock of pride Billy holds for Dominic and would like Dominic to show for himself, and knows Billy’s waiting him out. Dominic swallows and continues. “I come in here, and I hate it, like, I hate that I’ve just run in here expecting you to just--get it all the time."
Dominic holds his breath, waiting for Billy’s more measured reaction. It comes after almost too long, but Dominic’s strangely grateful for the calm Billy’s able to find in his voice. “Don’t imagine I haven’t missed you as well,” Billy murmurs, sitting Dominic back up. “But you needed to get caught up, Dom. You already know what I am going to say about you quitting, so I'll spare you a lecture for once. Coming and talking to me does not make you a child. I was your advisor first, and I’d find it inappropriate if y’didn’t tell me what just happened.” Billy holds Dominic's face in his hands for a moment, looking for something in Dominic’s eyes that takes him ages to find before he finally nods and speaks again.
“You're doing well enough in the lab, yeah? So if you were to change your lecture--if you shift your lecture time--you have those two hours between classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, still--if you moved to another lecture, perhaps with a different professor ...” Billy’s words trail off in some direction Dominic doesn’t have the energy to follow, and Dominic resettles against Billy, content to stay there. He’s tired from the stress of the week--of the past months--from not eating enough or well, not sleeping. He shuts his eyes and lets Billy's words wash over him, soothing him. He only just rouses himself enough to answer Billy's question.
"The lab’s not the problem. Things make sense when I can see them. Or when they're explained in a practical way, like you do. It’s the writing. The reports and the tests. I just can’t--" Dominic stops himself, thinking about what Billy's said. "Would they even let me change this late in the term? And whose class would I go to? Dr. Stinson--" Stinson's voice echoes again in his head. He knows Baskerville isn't a school known for embracing diversity, but Dominic’s rarely run into overt attacks on his sexuality. "He has a lot of say in the biology department, doesn't he?”
“He’s not the Chair--” Billy starts, but Dominic’s still thinking aloud.
“And what happens if he tells some other professor what kind of student I am?"
“And what kind of student would that be?” Billy muses. “I think you’re an excellent student when you make the effort; when you can be still and when you listen. If you'd like, we can work on that a little more. You know, the relaxing, the stillness. I know you can be still, Dom,” Billy murmurs. Thoughts fly through Dominic's mind, and he forces them back down, closing his eyes to focus on what Billy’s saying.
“Stinson cannot stop you from changing classes, provided you have departmental permission and the permission of your new professor,” Billy sighs. “And there are ways to get those things without involving Stinson any more than is absolutely necessary. He’s not the Chair, and you can work around him. This is another chance, Dom; it’s a chance for you to do better and get away from someone who only makes you feel like shite. I think ...” Billy takes a deep breath and then continues, his voice steady. “You should see Professor Blanchett. She’s new to the department, and she doesn’t know a thing about you, Dom. She wouldn't have any preconceived notions about what kind of student you are, and she's--passionate about her field.” Billy rushes through the rest of what he has to say, and Dominic tilts his head, listening. “If you explain to her that you want to do better, that you are interested, then I think she'd agree to let you switch into her lecture. It cannot hurt to ask, Dom. Just--”
Billy thinks for a moment, and Dominic stares at him, waiting again. “Don't let her know you need the class to graduate, though, yeah? And don’t tell her anything Stinson said to you. It will be better, Dominic. Trust me.”
"I do." Whatever the truth of that statement, Dominic finds his hand drifting lightly down Billy’s shirt, fingers wrapping gently around the end of Billy’s tie possessively as he wonders at what he’s doing. "You haven’t really kept me all that still yet, though,” Dominic says, more quietly. “Not that I wouldn’t be, if you--” Dominic pauses, smiling, and Billy laughs, low and filthy to Dominic’s ears.
“That sounds like a gauntlet, Dom; careful what you wish for.” Billy stretches a bit and then tugs at Dominic’s shirt, bringing him closer. “If I can get you to be still for five minutes in my lecture, that's a victory, but outside of it, I ask a lot more than that. You’ll go see Professor Blanchett, then? I want your word.” Billy's eyebrows rise, and he waits for Dominic's nod. “Good. So we’re sorted. Think about that, and then think about this, yeah? I'm going to head off home and pick up dinner on my way. Later, if I’m still standing on my own strength, we might see how still you can be.” Billy tilts his head and then nods firmly first at Dominic, then at his office door. “Go talk to her, Dom.”
"I will. Right now." Dominic takes his time rising from the couch, feeling Billy’s eyes on him as he bends to dig a pen from his bag and then carefully writes the name Blanchett on the back of his hand. Dropping the pen back in the bag, he stands and stretches from side to side before hitching his jeans back over his hips. “See you in a bit.”
Doubling back almost immediately from his steps toward the door, Dominic returns to Billy’s side to take back his philosophy paper from the table where Billy had set it down, frowning a bit as he looks at it. "Can we make it eight o’clock? I need to finish this, and I don't think I should ask the professor for an extension. Pretty much tested his patience already this term."
“And then some,” Billy sighs and stretches, too, dismissing Dominic gently with another nod and a tired smile. “No extension, and no reason for it. I'll see you at eight."
“Eight,” Dominic repeats and then leans down for a brief kiss, which he’s tempted to deepen and would if Billy didn’t put his hand flat on Dominic’s chest and push him up and away.
“Go.”
“I am. Eight.”
Dominic shuts the door to Billy’s office behind him and leans against the wall opposite. It’s easy, when he’s with Billy, to believe things will be all right, that together they can fix whatever happens. Of course, the problem is that he can’t be with Billy all the time, and Billy can’t be the fix to everything, and he knows this. Pushing off the wall, Dominic begins the long walk back to the Sciences building. He’ll find Professor Blanchett and ask for the transfer, and he’ll do the work, that much he can do for himself. He’ll prove to Professor Stinson, his father, his friends, himself--that he deserves to be here, that he can do this.
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic, Billy
Word count: 3546
Summary: In which failure is not an option.
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.
Dominic sits at the uncomfortable wooden desk in his biology lecture, trying not to count the minutes until he receives back the biology test he’d spent all weekend studying for, trying to make up for a month’s worth of pretending he didn’t care about anything. The prep work for the test has made Dominic miss days of Billy’s company now, and that annoys Dominic as much as his own haphazard handling of everything involving the class in the first place. Two rushed phone calls had been all they’d enjoyed: one on Friday letting Billy know where he was and what he was doing, the other on Sunday night, ending with promises of a more pleasant result to the next weekend.
The memory of that call spreads a small smile across Dominic’s face, one that remains until his biology professor, Dr. Stinson, enters the room, and Dominic’s reminded sharply of the man’s refusal to help him on Friday, punctuated by his assertion that had you been in class and paying attention, Mr. Monaghan, instead of looking for extra attention now, you would have no problem passing this test. Dominic hadn’t had the right words to answer that, and so he’d simply apologized for wasting the professor’s time before asking another student in the section for whatever help she could give. That student had spent the better part of Friday night flirting with him instead, and so Dominic had set his shoulders to figure things out on his own, had tried to rein in his restlessness and focus on learning metabolic pathways.
After downing insane amounts of caffeine all weekend and the feared morning, Dominic had managed to survive the test. Twelve hours of sleep followed, and then Dominic had spent his time frantically trying to go over his notes of several weeks’ worth of philosophy reading in an effort to write yet another assigned paper. Dominic has to hope Billy will forgive him for skiving off yesterday, but he’d needed the time to catch up, and he now has five pages of that assignment completed, his German work in good order, too and, he hoped, a decent grade on his biology examination.
The torture of wondering if he’d actually received that decent grade elevates as the professor proceeds to launch into a two-hour lecture on enzymes and Dominic attempts, honestly attempts, to focus and take notes. Across the top and side of his notes is written, underlined, outlined, and bolded Be Still, which he hears muttered again and again in his mind in Billy’s accent. The sound leads to memories of Billy’s mouth, which lead to memories of last Thursday night, which lead to a flush in Dominic’s cheeks and a promise to himself that he would wait for Billy at his house tomorrow night, and sliding straight into Billy’s bed to--Enzymes, Dominic tells himself sharply, cutting off more pleasant thoughts. Right.
Finally, Dr. Stinson finishes up his lecture and picks up the pile of marked tests to pass back. Dominic doesn’t think in any way that he’d mastered the concepts enough to have aced this test, but he’s quite sure that he’s at least passed it. He drums his fingers on the desk nervously, watching as most of the other students take their tests and leave the room; Dominic’s own is apparently at the bottom of the pile, and that’s not a good sign. As the professor calls out the final names, Dominic slings his rucksack over his shoulder and goes to stand at the podium to receive his test.
He starts to leave the room, unfolding the booklet to reveal a failing grade. Dominic stops and flips through the pages, finding more red ink on some pages than his own words in black. Turning back around, he approaches Dr. Stinson, erasing the blackboard meticulously.
“Excuse me, sir.”
“Yes, Monaghan.”
Dominic bites his lip at the curtness in the professor’s voice but decides to push forward. “I don’t understand my mark. I really studied for this one, sir.”
“Not enough, clearly.”
“But the concepts are correct. These are mostly spelling errors you marked. You said at the beginning of the term that you weren’t going to focus on the small things if we got the concepts right.”
Stinson turns to face Dominic, irritation and amusement mixed in his eyes. “I’m sure I said no such thing.”
“But you did--”
“Even if I had, spelling, grammar, and punctuation are not small things, Mr. Monaghan. Would you have written that carelessly for one of your literature classes? I think not, or you wouldn’t be here in the first place, would you.”
Dominic blinks; it’s an old tune playing in his head now, telling him he’s never earned his way into any of his classes, that he’s never belonged here and never will. “Please, professor. I’ll fail the class with this mark--there’s not even time to make up for it, and you haven’t scheduled another test with this much weight until the end--”
Stinson’s sigh stops Dominic’s cold, and his stare makes Dominic swallow hard. Stinson begins to gather his things from the desk, speaking over his shoulder now at Dominic. “As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Monaghan, you nearly failed this section the moment you walked in the door. I know some at this university like to coddle students with learning issues like yours, but I don’t, and I’m under no obligation to do so. Had you come to class--”
“I explained--”
“Mr. Monaghan, you offered me one sorry excuse after the other. I expect to teach students of a certain calibre, and unfortunately you do not fit that bill. There are remedial science courses you could perhaps attempt before you make an effort at this level, if you or your parents believe it’s worth the time. And if not,” Stinson shrugs, and continues almost kindly. “I suggest you take whatever cleverness got you this far and seek a job somewhere in a less academic industry, where it may do you some good.”
Dominic lowers his eyes to the floor, stunned and biting back harsher words. “Please, Professor. I made an effort. My marks are better now than they were before--before. You know this, sir.”
“What I know, Mr. Monaghan, is what I see in your work. I don’t need to know anything about you or what sort of wrong turns you’ve taken over the last few months or how you made your way back. You’d be better off not wasting your time or mine, and before you take the risk of humiliating yourself, I’ll leave you.” Stinson picks up his briefcase and heads to the door, turning back to Dominic just before he leaves. “I understand how your relative charm has endeared you to some of your other professors, and they may well have reason to give you as many chances as you need. I do not. Put your back into something other than being charming and do grow up, or you risk more than failing my class.”
Dominic stands alone in the room for long moments afterward, trying to control his emotions. He’s still shocked, knocked nearly breathless by what the professor’s thrown at him, and the very real possibility that he’s done too much damage this year to recover makes itself felt again. Shoving the wreckage of his test into his rucksack, Dominic finally leaves the science building and heads toward the library, intent on salvaging something of this afternoon. Passing the humanities building, Dominic stops to stare at the window he knows belongs to Billy’s office, and he takes two more steps, trying to resist going inside.
The fight doesn’t last long, though; taking the steps two at a time to Billy’s floor, Dominic walks down the quiet hall, half-hoping, half-dreading that Billy’s in, and that he’s alone. Coming closer, he hears two voices inside Billy’s office and spends a few minutes pacing, wondering whether he should leave. But then a student steps from the office, Billy’s voice following her as he, too, moves toward the office door.
“I don’t expect you to remember everything I’ve explained in your lecture, you must know that,” Billy’s saying gently to the young girl preparing to leave. “I do expect you to remember what we’ve all discussed together, and I expect you to have done the readings. You’ve attended every class, Siobhan; I don’t think you have anything to fear.” The girl nods, and Billy ushers her out pleasantly, his smile fading a little the moment she is gone.
“Mr. Monaghan,” Billy says, just a bit too loudly to Dominic’s ears, and as he turns he finds it’s more for the benefit of a certain administrator walking by than for Dominic himself. “Good to see you.”
Dominic manages a smile to match the bemused one across Billy’s face, and walks past Billy into the office before he flops onto the couch, clutching his rucksack to his chest and feeling like a complete idiot, running here simply because he’d received a mark he probably deserves. But there’s more to what he’s feeling than that, Dominic knows; it’s that he failed this test after studying hard and properly, even if hadn’t been enough, wanting to make both Billy and himself proud. It’s that he’s certain now that he’ll fail biology, that even if he does well the rest of the term, Stinson will not let him pass. And finally, it’s because he’s been insulted all too well and too familiarly, and it still burns. Stinson had said aloud things Dominic’s too often believed about himself--confirming them in his mind--things that he knows his family and perhaps some of his friends believe about him as well.
Dominic waits until Billy has closed the door before looking up again. He’d do a lot to hear again the things Billy’s always told him, things that make him believe in himself again. There’s no easy way to ask for that, and so instead, Dominic lowers his eyes and clears his throat. “I wrote some of the assignment. I was wondering if you would look at it for me.”
“Of course,” Billy says, but he’s frowning a bit, confused. “The thing is, Dom, you know I can't help you with it much more than I already have, and I answered several questions about the topics today in class, but you didn't--” Billy pauses and then extends his hand for the essay. “Here. Let's have a look.”
Billy waits for Dominic to produce the paper, and Dominic chews on his lip, knowing that Billy knows there’s something more going on here. While Dominic has been prone to avoid telling Billy things that are bothering him, they both know Dominic’s never been able to hide the extent of his disappointment in anything or anyone for long, least of all himself and the things he’s done, and that the truth will come out sooner or later.
Billy looks tired, though less so than Dominic feels, and not in the ugly, drawn way Dominic had seen before they’d sorted things out between them. Dominic knows Billy’s recently come to dread office hours at this time of year; his students--Dominic included--come to him slack-jawed and bloodshot of eye, burnt out from studying and hyperkinetic from caffeine. Billy’s admitted to Dominic that he enjoys neither the company of these rattled students nor their questions, but he tries to keep his irritation to himself and help them. Billy’s also told Dominic that he’s well aware that students live in terror of his own exams--and that if he’s honest, he likes that--so he forces himself to be kind to the handful of them that march into his office faithfully, week after week. As Billy scans the first several paragraphs of Dominic's paper, nodding and occasionally pursing his lips, Dominic wonders how it’s never seemed that difficult for Billy to extend that kindness to him, in terms of his work and their lives outside these walls..
When Billy’s finished, he removes his glasses and takes a deep breath before he speaks. “It's good, Dom. You have a decent grasp on what we've discussed. Run it through a spellchecker, though, yeah? And consider changing the order of these two paragraphs, yeah? Because your logic doesn't follow ...” Billy sighs. “Look, Dom, I'm sorry. It's a good start, really. But I can't tell you anything else; it’s unfair to your classmates.” Dominic nods, not really listening but looking at the floor. Billy places Dominic's paper on the small table near the couch before he stands and locks his office door, then returns to crouch in front of Dominic, taking the rucksack from him. Dominic resists a little, not wanting to give it up, and feeling exposed when he does. “Were you planning to tell me what’s in your head now, Dom, or did y’need me to take it from you?”
"You can't fix it for me, Billy," Dominic says quickly, closing his eyes, and he feels Billy rising to sit next to him on the couch. When he does, Dominic leans against Billy a bit, and his words, when they come, rush out in one breath. "It was a shit week, Billy, and I missed you, I missed the house, and I worked like you wouldn’t fucking believe, but there’s no point anymore, yeah? I'm going to fail biology. Dr. Stinson said I should just stop humiliating myself and leave it, and maybe he's right, maybe I should. And then this--” Dominic throws an irritated hand, and Billy’s fingers, moving idly through Dominic’s hair, still and tug. Dominic can feel the suppressed energy in Billy’s touch, the defensive shock of pride Billy holds for Dominic and would like Dominic to show for himself, and knows Billy’s waiting him out. Dominic swallows and continues. “I come in here, and I hate it, like, I hate that I’ve just run in here expecting you to just--get it all the time."
Dominic holds his breath, waiting for Billy’s more measured reaction. It comes after almost too long, but Dominic’s strangely grateful for the calm Billy’s able to find in his voice. “Don’t imagine I haven’t missed you as well,” Billy murmurs, sitting Dominic back up. “But you needed to get caught up, Dom. You already know what I am going to say about you quitting, so I'll spare you a lecture for once. Coming and talking to me does not make you a child. I was your advisor first, and I’d find it inappropriate if y’didn’t tell me what just happened.” Billy holds Dominic's face in his hands for a moment, looking for something in Dominic’s eyes that takes him ages to find before he finally nods and speaks again.
“You're doing well enough in the lab, yeah? So if you were to change your lecture--if you shift your lecture time--you have those two hours between classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, still--if you moved to another lecture, perhaps with a different professor ...” Billy’s words trail off in some direction Dominic doesn’t have the energy to follow, and Dominic resettles against Billy, content to stay there. He’s tired from the stress of the week--of the past months--from not eating enough or well, not sleeping. He shuts his eyes and lets Billy's words wash over him, soothing him. He only just rouses himself enough to answer Billy's question.
"The lab’s not the problem. Things make sense when I can see them. Or when they're explained in a practical way, like you do. It’s the writing. The reports and the tests. I just can’t--" Dominic stops himself, thinking about what Billy's said. "Would they even let me change this late in the term? And whose class would I go to? Dr. Stinson--" Stinson's voice echoes again in his head. He knows Baskerville isn't a school known for embracing diversity, but Dominic’s rarely run into overt attacks on his sexuality. "He has a lot of say in the biology department, doesn't he?”
“He’s not the Chair--” Billy starts, but Dominic’s still thinking aloud.
“And what happens if he tells some other professor what kind of student I am?"
“And what kind of student would that be?” Billy muses. “I think you’re an excellent student when you make the effort; when you can be still and when you listen. If you'd like, we can work on that a little more. You know, the relaxing, the stillness. I know you can be still, Dom,” Billy murmurs. Thoughts fly through Dominic's mind, and he forces them back down, closing his eyes to focus on what Billy’s saying.
“Stinson cannot stop you from changing classes, provided you have departmental permission and the permission of your new professor,” Billy sighs. “And there are ways to get those things without involving Stinson any more than is absolutely necessary. He’s not the Chair, and you can work around him. This is another chance, Dom; it’s a chance for you to do better and get away from someone who only makes you feel like shite. I think ...” Billy takes a deep breath and then continues, his voice steady. “You should see Professor Blanchett. She’s new to the department, and she doesn’t know a thing about you, Dom. She wouldn't have any preconceived notions about what kind of student you are, and she's--passionate about her field.” Billy rushes through the rest of what he has to say, and Dominic tilts his head, listening. “If you explain to her that you want to do better, that you are interested, then I think she'd agree to let you switch into her lecture. It cannot hurt to ask, Dom. Just--”
Billy thinks for a moment, and Dominic stares at him, waiting again. “Don't let her know you need the class to graduate, though, yeah? And don’t tell her anything Stinson said to you. It will be better, Dominic. Trust me.”
"I do." Whatever the truth of that statement, Dominic finds his hand drifting lightly down Billy’s shirt, fingers wrapping gently around the end of Billy’s tie possessively as he wonders at what he’s doing. "You haven’t really kept me all that still yet, though,” Dominic says, more quietly. “Not that I wouldn’t be, if you--” Dominic pauses, smiling, and Billy laughs, low and filthy to Dominic’s ears.
“That sounds like a gauntlet, Dom; careful what you wish for.” Billy stretches a bit and then tugs at Dominic’s shirt, bringing him closer. “If I can get you to be still for five minutes in my lecture, that's a victory, but outside of it, I ask a lot more than that. You’ll go see Professor Blanchett, then? I want your word.” Billy's eyebrows rise, and he waits for Dominic's nod. “Good. So we’re sorted. Think about that, and then think about this, yeah? I'm going to head off home and pick up dinner on my way. Later, if I’m still standing on my own strength, we might see how still you can be.” Billy tilts his head and then nods firmly first at Dominic, then at his office door. “Go talk to her, Dom.”
"I will. Right now." Dominic takes his time rising from the couch, feeling Billy’s eyes on him as he bends to dig a pen from his bag and then carefully writes the name Blanchett on the back of his hand. Dropping the pen back in the bag, he stands and stretches from side to side before hitching his jeans back over his hips. “See you in a bit.”
Doubling back almost immediately from his steps toward the door, Dominic returns to Billy’s side to take back his philosophy paper from the table where Billy had set it down, frowning a bit as he looks at it. "Can we make it eight o’clock? I need to finish this, and I don't think I should ask the professor for an extension. Pretty much tested his patience already this term."
“And then some,” Billy sighs and stretches, too, dismissing Dominic gently with another nod and a tired smile. “No extension, and no reason for it. I'll see you at eight."
“Eight,” Dominic repeats and then leans down for a brief kiss, which he’s tempted to deepen and would if Billy didn’t put his hand flat on Dominic’s chest and push him up and away.
“Go.”
“I am. Eight.”
Dominic shuts the door to Billy’s office behind him and leans against the wall opposite. It’s easy, when he’s with Billy, to believe things will be all right, that together they can fix whatever happens. Of course, the problem is that he can’t be with Billy all the time, and Billy can’t be the fix to everything, and he knows this. Pushing off the wall, Dominic begins the long walk back to the Sciences building. He’ll find Professor Blanchett and ask for the transfer, and he’ll do the work, that much he can do for himself. He’ll prove to Professor Stinson, his father, his friends, himself--that he deserves to be here, that he can do this.