O HAI EVERYONE. I has birthday fic for Moog!
Title: Loose Ends
Fandom: The History Boys
Pairing: Irwin/Dakin
Summary: For
moogle62 ’s birthday, because special occasions like birthdays deserve some kind of resolution. (I'm really sickly at the moment and can only apologise for all that follows. Hope you don’t hate it. ILU VERY MUCH.) Thanks go to
cathamarine and
strangeumbrella
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Comments 45
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(HOMOSEXUALITY IS NEVER
EVER
RIGHT)
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SO MUCH.
NNNNNGGGGH AND ALSO UNFG AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY FIRST (I LOVE YOUUUU), I HAVE TO GO AWAY AND RE-READ IT AND THINGS.
AJKADJSBHKJBVDDVKJBKJB ♥ ♥ ♥
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- Admittedly, he hadn’t really gone out intending to sleep with anyone - there was a brunette in a short short skirt who kept smiling at him out the corner of her eye and he’d thought, maybe - Here is when your Dakin came and smacked me in the face with his Dakin-ness, how do you do that?
- Dakin’s struggling to reconcile his memories of the party with ending up here, pressed into this depressingly seventies upholstery by someone whose name he’s fighting with drunken valiance to remember, but then there’s that breath again, ragged against his skin, and a sudden shock of lips and heat - I don't think I actually had anything sensible to say here other than HI DAKIN and I adore the phrase 'drunken valiance' and I ( ... )
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Here we go, more fangiriling:
- If he looks to his left, he will be able to see the couple two tables away whose argument is slowly escalating, or the waitress who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, or the silhouette of the word ‘café’, backwards on the green tile floor. Looking straight ahead isn’t really an option. - Loz, stop being so good at using words now (plz don't). Scene-setting brilliance, my dear.
- Dakin looks left. At the counter there is a thin, bespectacled man studying the chalk boards nailed to the wall, and Dakin finds himself saying oh my God Irwin too loudly and the man looks round and their eyes meet. - I may have actually gone 'EEEEEEEE OH MY GOD' here, I don't remember (lies, I totally did).
- And Dakin says, no, no I’m not, actually can it wait? He can still hear his father spluttering as he crosses the room, but Irwin exhales his name like a secret and he’s gripping the counter almost for support, and since when did the room get so large, why on earth is it ( ... )
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I JUST
NNNGH
ILU SO MUCH AND I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT AND UNNNNNNNNFGGGGG.
ALSO I HAVE A MASSIVE COLD/VIRUS TYPE THING AND MY THROAT/NOSE/CHEST ARE MISBEHAVIN', BUT I JUST DRAGGED MYSELF OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR A FEW HOURS TO WATCH JON RICHARDSON DO STAND-UP (HENCE NOT REPLYING TO YOUR TEXTS, SRY ♥) SO BASICALLY I'M QUITE OVER-EXCITED BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH
I'M HOPPED UP ON COLD MEDS AND I
DON'T
CARE
WHO
KNOWS
IT
oh god moog i think i've gone a bit wrong
ANYWAYS ILU BB OKAY XXXXX
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I don't even like Dakin but the way you write Dakin always completely kills me.
And Irwin too!:
Irwin didn’t stay a teacher for very long, but before he left he’d already learned to tell the time of day by the slump of their shoulders, the angle of them, almost to the minute. Now that he’s a journalist he just wears a watch. It’s not the same.
and and and
(Incidentally, his best friend at secondary school had his first kiss there, behind the bikesheds; different sheds and different bikes, naturally, but the principle was the same. Irwin was in love with him for years, for years without him ever so much as noticing. Irwin was Posner once.
Only not as brave.)
*swoons*
Dakin and Irwin and their ethics and the way they turn out (working 'in govnerment' grrr! corporate jetsetting lawyer bwwwwaaah!) infuriate me so very much but how they are that way and what they are besides that way as how you've illustrated it is pushing them into backup-tp territory.
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Also, from your wonderful fic I would assume that you're mainly a Posner/Scripps person? I really like that pairing and intend to have a crack at writing them next, so, you know. Wish me luck [as you wave me goodbye], basically!
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Posner is tragic is so many ways that I just want him to be taken care of, you know?
I do know. (Bizarrely, one of the only notes I have for the Scripps/Posner I'm snails pace-ing away at is, "Scripps wanted to look after Posner and he didn't know why".)
I find it interesting that you look at Dakin and Irwin from that angle, because it's one I really never considered - personally, I always saw Dakin and Irwin's story as, I suppose, the antithesis of that culture of personal gain. I don't think either of them end up happy. That line, Dakin's epilogue about how "of course I'm happy I'm a tax lawyer I make loads of money", it just sounds like such a lie. I'm not sure why I thought of it like that. Something about Dakin's over-confidence and desperation to be loved by everyone made me ( ... )
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Just that - yes. This is the Dakin/Irwin story I've been aching for (and failing to write on and off) ever since I saw the play. Every bit of it, note-perfect. I love your character voices and the little ironies and your DAKIN. And oh, I love the structure so much, the way the little scenes don't follow from each other, except in that way that they do. Loose ends, yes.
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Between Dakin’s legs there is a man
Apart from everything else, ok, I really just love the order of those words. I CAN'T MAKE IT SOUND LESS MAD THAN THAT, SORRY.
He says don’t call me sir, Dakin, please. And Dakin says, well, okay, so don’t call me Dakin, and holds out a hand for him to shake.
AND HERE BASICALLY I DIE
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ILU ♥
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