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fellowshippers2008-06-28 03:37 pm
not-a-lamb.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2008-06-28 03:37 pm
Entry tags:
Universe Machine: Chapter 2/?
Title: Universe Machine: Chapter 2/?
Author: not_a_lamb
Beta: The lovely silentdescent, without whom I'd perish.
Rating: PG-13(for this part), NC-17 (overall)
Pairing: VM/DM with a smattering of BB/liv Tyler (nothing graphic, I promise.)
Summary: Physical Metaphysics class with Mr. Mortensen leads Dom to many new discoveries--like love.
Warning: High School AU, Blatent philosophizing, pot use, WIP.
Disclaimer: Based on a dream, so it's FICTION.
Previous Chapters can be found here: http://not-a-lamb.livejournal.com/tag/universe+machine
CHAPTER TWO
Dom found himself preoccupied over the next several days. He couldn't stop thinking about Viggo's first lesson—not in his classes, not at home, and not at a The Garden Cafe's open-mic night, where he now found himself—which meant, naturally, that he couldn't stop talking about it either. He almost felt sorry for Billy.
“For the love of all that is holy, Dom,” Billy groaned, “can we please talk about something else?
It was true that Dom had a tendency of letting whatever was in his head come straight out his mouth, but he thought Billy was being unreasonable. Sure, they'd been talking about it on and off all week, but it was fascinating, wasn't it? Besides, Dom's inner sadist whispered, driving Billy spare is a little bit hilarious. Dom grinned.
“But Bill, you should've seen it: branches like thick fingers spread wide to receive, leaves like burgundy rose petals, and the--”
“--tender green of the mossy trunk, so alive beneath your fingers,” Billy recited in a bored tone. “Yes, Dom, I think I may have heard that before, though I can't recall where.” Billy feigned straining to remember. “What do you think, Dom?”
“Dunno, my friend. People are fascinated by beauty. Could've been anywhere.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And it was beautiful, Bills. I can't believe it's been so long since I've thought about it. Such a gift.”
Billy sighed, “I think I just died a little on the inside, Dommie. Is that what you want, a best friend with a hole in his heart?”
Dom grinned. “Well then you'd be holy, too!” He paused out of respect for Billy's long-suffering groan at the joke, then rushed onward again, “And the tree was holy. I wish you could have seen. . . ” Dom's voice trailed off as he saw the look on his friend's face.
Billy wasn't a screamer, Dom knew. He wasn't the type for shouting matches. No, when Billy was really angry, he shut you out and got quiet. As long as Billy would banter with him, Dom knew that Billy wasn't really mad. Right now, though, Billy was staring at his coffee, his bow lips pursed, a deep crease between his eyebrows.
Dom knew he was in trouble.
“Billy,” Dom said softly.
Billy didn't look up.
“Billy, don't be mad. Please?” Dom tried, looking as pitiful as he could. Billy could never resist Dom at his most pitiful, but it wasn't fazing him a bit right now because the bastard wouldn't even look at him! Dom started to panic.
“Billy, I'm sorry, alright? I just got carried away.” Dom pled ernestly. “Just don't be mad at me; I can't stand it.” Dom's voice broke around the word “stand” and Billy looked up.
He smiled gently, catching Dom by surprise, and said, “Dommie. . . I'm not mad at you. Just frustrated.”
“'Bout what?” Dom asked softly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“It's just,” Billy started, then stopped short, paused, and tried again. “Since Viggo's class you've had all this passion. Don't get me wrong, I know you're a passionate person, but this—you've been bordering on obsession. And I don't understand it. And you keep bringing it up.” Billy licked his lips, as though parched before continuing, “I've always just gotten you and you've gotten me—ever since we were kids. I hate not understanding where you're coming from. It's. . . well it's goddamn frustrating is what it is!”
Dom blinked. He'd thought that Billy was teasing him back, being so unenthusiastic about the tree. He hadn't realized how bothered Billy was or that Billy really didn't understand. If Billy were talking incessantly about something that Dom didn't connect with, he'd be at the end of his rope too. They were supposed to get each other. That's just the way things worked. They were a team, Abbot and Costello, peanut butter and jelly, Man U and Beckham—okay, so that one hadn't worked out, but that's not the point. They got each other. Only this time, they didn't. Dom winced; he never would have brought it up again if he'd known.
Dom reached out and clasped Billy's shoulder gently, determinedly meeting his eyes. “I'm sorry, Bill. I didn't know.”
Billy nodded as he said a soft "okay." Then he smiled, and just like that, things were good again. Dom relaxed. Then, something occurred to him. He felt like a self-obsessed bastard that he hadn't wondered earlier. “What did you draw? I can't believe it's taken me four days to ask!”
Billy looked around the cafe, a little nervously, and Dom's curiosity hightened. “You drew something here?” Dom asked. Then a light went on. “Ooh!” he laughed, “or someone!”
Billy blushed and looked down at his coffee, with quiet aprehension.
Just then, Liv's band stepped onto the stage to start warming up and Billy did a first-class job of pretending not to notice.
Dom grinned. “Oh Bills,” he sighed, “you're so far gone.”
Billy just growled back, “Shut it, Monaghan,” and continued to ignore his lady love.
“You get me closer to God!” Dom sang with his arms spread wide.
“Cut it out. If not for me, for your left nut's sake,” Billy threatened playfully.
“Nothing s wrong with my boys. My nuts are beautiful, but manly.” He grinned.
“But you only need one and I'm not above snatching the other,” Billy warned. “So try to restrain yourself. Please?”
“If only for the love of my nuts, I will,” Dom complied. Then, very softly, he added, “Though I'd rather be restrained by the lovely Livvie. . .”
“Dominic—” groaned Billy resignedly. But neither of them said much more on the subject for a while. Liv's band, The Oxen-Frees, began to play and the boys sat back, enjoying the lilting melody of the vixen's voice. Dom watched his best friend throughout the performance, captivated by the lightening of his features, the almost meditative calm of his face.
When the set ended, Dom leaned close and asked, “She really does take you closer to God, doesn't she.”
Billy didn't bother hiding his blush as he replied, “Yeah, she does.”
Dom was gobsmacked. Sure, he knew Billy had a crush on Liv Tyler. But then, everyone but the lady herself seemed to know that. How Billy could keep something like this, like the way Dom felt about his tree, secret, Dom couldn't fathom.
And yes, he was a bit jealous, but not of Liv. He was jealous because he'd never had that kind of passionate connection to another person in all his long eighteen years. He wanted that. To love so deeply that it united him with something higher. Viggo's reassurances rang in his ears. Someday. . .
Dom could only hope that it was someday soon.
_________________________
Viggo leaned back, enveloped by one of Sean's opulent brocade chairs. He'd always dug his best friend's taste in decor, but it never felt as good as on a cool evening with a late-summer breeze drifting in through the French doors. Sean Bean came from money; he didn't teach to get by, he taught because it was what he loved, and that was just another thing Viggo adored about him. Viggo sighed and shifted, raising his wine glass to his lips. Viggo himself lived simply and had never been one for conspicuous consumption. But that didn't mean he barred himself from enjoying Sean's world from time to time.
Besides, it was always an adjustment, starting a new school year, coming back from the lazy days into something much more productive. That adjustment was made smoother by the company of a good friend, a glass of wine, and some nice, relaxing weed, Viggo thought as he watched Sean light up the joint and inhale before passing it on to Viggo.
“So,” Viggo prodded, “First impressions. Who's your most interesting kid in class so far?”
Sean chuckled, “Easy. Eric Bana. The kid's big as a house, but he is a complete introvert. Soft spoken, polite. He must have asked ten good questions during our first class, but didn't offer to answer any that I asked the class. Seems like the kid's got everything going for him physically—looks, muscles and such—but the kid's a door mouse, just lacking any type of confidence.”
Viggo smiled fondly in remembrance. When they had first met in college, that description could easily have been applied to Sean as well. For all his rugged good looks, Sean had been a quiet man, a researcher, quick to hide behind his glasses, and with a tendency for awkward social interaction. When he had decided to teach the history that he loved, Viggo had hoped it would bring him out of his shell. And it had, to some extent. Sean was still quiet and personal, but he let people get close to him and had even thrown parties to share his beloved Blades with his workmates.
“So what's your plan?” Viggo asked, knowing that Sean, the consummate researcher, always had a plan.
“Well,” Sean began thoughtfully, “praising his good questions for starters, asking his opinion in class—though not to the exclusion of other kids' views. Encouraging discussion about the points he raises, so that he can see how broad and varied conversation can be sparked by an interesting idea of his.” He paused and looked at his best friend. “Seriously Vig, this kid is full of the most interesting insights. For instance, he asked—on the first day, mind you—how extensive the agricultural damage created by the Visigoths was, and how long, once conquered, the land took to recover.” Sean paused to take another hit and leaned back on the couch, looking peaceful. “The kid's got an eye for detail. A natural researcher. Fifty bucks says he goes into history as a major.”
Sean's eyes were glazed over and Viggo didn't know if it was the pot or the bliss of a truly interested student that had caused it. He thought about Dominic and understood Sean's elation. There was nothing as rewarding as teaching a student who was hungry for your subject. One who wanted to know as much as possible about it, who brought in questions and researched at home to sate his or her hunger. Viggo pictured the diminutive young man, the way his eyes shone as he listened to Viggo, the way he followed his insightful comments with a question, showing his own lack of confidence. Viggo wondered if Dominic knew how astute his insights were and decided to take a page out of Sean's book and let him know.
“Vig?” Sean's voice drifted into Viggo's thoughts.
“Hmm?” Viggo responded, looking up at Sean, who was now standing.
“I asked you if you wanted another glass of wine,” Sean said patiently. He was familiar with the meanderings of Viggo's mind and, as such, didn't sound put out.
“Sure,” Viggo nodded, handing over his glass.
“Where'd you go?” Sean automatically inquired.
Viggo grinned. Sean never got bored of Viggo's roaming thoughts, and for that, Viggo was eternally grateful.
“Just thinking about a student. Your Mr. Bana reminded me of one of my kids. Dominic,” Viggo said.
“Dominic Monaghan?” Sean asked, “I had him as a freshman. Kid's memorable, that's for sure.”
Viggo perked up. “What do you mean?” There was a tone of apprehension in his best friend's voice that concerned Viggo.
“He kept hanging out around my room after class, dropping by my office before school. I think he wanted to be my friend or something. Even brought me dinner one night I was there late grading essays. He didn't get that that sort of thing's just not done,” Sean explained, pursing his lips. “Nice kid though, very bright and passionate.”
“Does he not have any friends?” Viggo asked.
“Quite the contrary,” Sean replied. “He's popular kid.” He paused, unsure of his next words, “Just liked me, I guess.”
“Well, you're a likable guy, Sean. I'm not surprised.” Viggo smiled. “I can see why he'd want to get to know you better. You were challenging him, offering him new points of view. That's hard to find with high school friends.”
“Well, if that's true, you're in trouble my friend. You run the most mind-bending class in the place,” Sean warned.
“I'll keep an eye on him,” Viggo promised, failing—of course—to mention how much the boy was already on his mind. Viggo was almost certain that further vigilance wouldn't be necessary.
Author: not_a_lamb
Beta: The lovely silentdescent, without whom I'd perish.
Rating: PG-13(for this part), NC-17 (overall)
Pairing: VM/DM with a smattering of BB/liv Tyler (nothing graphic, I promise.)
Summary: Physical Metaphysics class with Mr. Mortensen leads Dom to many new discoveries--like love.
Warning: High School AU, Blatent philosophizing, pot use, WIP.
Disclaimer: Based on a dream, so it's FICTION.
Previous Chapters can be found here: http://not-a-lamb.livejournal.com/tag/universe+machine
CHAPTER TWO
Dom found himself preoccupied over the next several days. He couldn't stop thinking about Viggo's first lesson—not in his classes, not at home, and not at a The Garden Cafe's open-mic night, where he now found himself—which meant, naturally, that he couldn't stop talking about it either. He almost felt sorry for Billy.
“For the love of all that is holy, Dom,” Billy groaned, “can we please talk about something else?
It was true that Dom had a tendency of letting whatever was in his head come straight out his mouth, but he thought Billy was being unreasonable. Sure, they'd been talking about it on and off all week, but it was fascinating, wasn't it? Besides, Dom's inner sadist whispered, driving Billy spare is a little bit hilarious. Dom grinned.
“But Bill, you should've seen it: branches like thick fingers spread wide to receive, leaves like burgundy rose petals, and the--”
“--tender green of the mossy trunk, so alive beneath your fingers,” Billy recited in a bored tone. “Yes, Dom, I think I may have heard that before, though I can't recall where.” Billy feigned straining to remember. “What do you think, Dom?”
“Dunno, my friend. People are fascinated by beauty. Could've been anywhere.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And it was beautiful, Bills. I can't believe it's been so long since I've thought about it. Such a gift.”
Billy sighed, “I think I just died a little on the inside, Dommie. Is that what you want, a best friend with a hole in his heart?”
Dom grinned. “Well then you'd be holy, too!” He paused out of respect for Billy's long-suffering groan at the joke, then rushed onward again, “And the tree was holy. I wish you could have seen. . . ” Dom's voice trailed off as he saw the look on his friend's face.
Billy wasn't a screamer, Dom knew. He wasn't the type for shouting matches. No, when Billy was really angry, he shut you out and got quiet. As long as Billy would banter with him, Dom knew that Billy wasn't really mad. Right now, though, Billy was staring at his coffee, his bow lips pursed, a deep crease between his eyebrows.
Dom knew he was in trouble.
“Billy,” Dom said softly.
Billy didn't look up.
“Billy, don't be mad. Please?” Dom tried, looking as pitiful as he could. Billy could never resist Dom at his most pitiful, but it wasn't fazing him a bit right now because the bastard wouldn't even look at him! Dom started to panic.
“Billy, I'm sorry, alright? I just got carried away.” Dom pled ernestly. “Just don't be mad at me; I can't stand it.” Dom's voice broke around the word “stand” and Billy looked up.
He smiled gently, catching Dom by surprise, and said, “Dommie. . . I'm not mad at you. Just frustrated.”
“'Bout what?” Dom asked softly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“It's just,” Billy started, then stopped short, paused, and tried again. “Since Viggo's class you've had all this passion. Don't get me wrong, I know you're a passionate person, but this—you've been bordering on obsession. And I don't understand it. And you keep bringing it up.” Billy licked his lips, as though parched before continuing, “I've always just gotten you and you've gotten me—ever since we were kids. I hate not understanding where you're coming from. It's. . . well it's goddamn frustrating is what it is!”
Dom blinked. He'd thought that Billy was teasing him back, being so unenthusiastic about the tree. He hadn't realized how bothered Billy was or that Billy really didn't understand. If Billy were talking incessantly about something that Dom didn't connect with, he'd be at the end of his rope too. They were supposed to get each other. That's just the way things worked. They were a team, Abbot and Costello, peanut butter and jelly, Man U and Beckham—okay, so that one hadn't worked out, but that's not the point. They got each other. Only this time, they didn't. Dom winced; he never would have brought it up again if he'd known.
Dom reached out and clasped Billy's shoulder gently, determinedly meeting his eyes. “I'm sorry, Bill. I didn't know.”
Billy nodded as he said a soft "okay." Then he smiled, and just like that, things were good again. Dom relaxed. Then, something occurred to him. He felt like a self-obsessed bastard that he hadn't wondered earlier. “What did you draw? I can't believe it's taken me four days to ask!”
Billy looked around the cafe, a little nervously, and Dom's curiosity hightened. “You drew something here?” Dom asked. Then a light went on. “Ooh!” he laughed, “or someone!”
Billy blushed and looked down at his coffee, with quiet aprehension.
Just then, Liv's band stepped onto the stage to start warming up and Billy did a first-class job of pretending not to notice.
Dom grinned. “Oh Bills,” he sighed, “you're so far gone.”
Billy just growled back, “Shut it, Monaghan,” and continued to ignore his lady love.
“You get me closer to God!” Dom sang with his arms spread wide.
“Cut it out. If not for me, for your left nut's sake,” Billy threatened playfully.
“Nothing s wrong with my boys. My nuts are beautiful, but manly.” He grinned.
“But you only need one and I'm not above snatching the other,” Billy warned. “So try to restrain yourself. Please?”
“If only for the love of my nuts, I will,” Dom complied. Then, very softly, he added, “Though I'd rather be restrained by the lovely Livvie. . .”
“Dominic—” groaned Billy resignedly. But neither of them said much more on the subject for a while. Liv's band, The Oxen-Frees, began to play and the boys sat back, enjoying the lilting melody of the vixen's voice. Dom watched his best friend throughout the performance, captivated by the lightening of his features, the almost meditative calm of his face.
When the set ended, Dom leaned close and asked, “She really does take you closer to God, doesn't she.”
Billy didn't bother hiding his blush as he replied, “Yeah, she does.”
Dom was gobsmacked. Sure, he knew Billy had a crush on Liv Tyler. But then, everyone but the lady herself seemed to know that. How Billy could keep something like this, like the way Dom felt about his tree, secret, Dom couldn't fathom.
And yes, he was a bit jealous, but not of Liv. He was jealous because he'd never had that kind of passionate connection to another person in all his long eighteen years. He wanted that. To love so deeply that it united him with something higher. Viggo's reassurances rang in his ears. Someday. . .
Dom could only hope that it was someday soon.
_________________________
Viggo leaned back, enveloped by one of Sean's opulent brocade chairs. He'd always dug his best friend's taste in decor, but it never felt as good as on a cool evening with a late-summer breeze drifting in through the French doors. Sean Bean came from money; he didn't teach to get by, he taught because it was what he loved, and that was just another thing Viggo adored about him. Viggo sighed and shifted, raising his wine glass to his lips. Viggo himself lived simply and had never been one for conspicuous consumption. But that didn't mean he barred himself from enjoying Sean's world from time to time.
Besides, it was always an adjustment, starting a new school year, coming back from the lazy days into something much more productive. That adjustment was made smoother by the company of a good friend, a glass of wine, and some nice, relaxing weed, Viggo thought as he watched Sean light up the joint and inhale before passing it on to Viggo.
“So,” Viggo prodded, “First impressions. Who's your most interesting kid in class so far?”
Sean chuckled, “Easy. Eric Bana. The kid's big as a house, but he is a complete introvert. Soft spoken, polite. He must have asked ten good questions during our first class, but didn't offer to answer any that I asked the class. Seems like the kid's got everything going for him physically—looks, muscles and such—but the kid's a door mouse, just lacking any type of confidence.”
Viggo smiled fondly in remembrance. When they had first met in college, that description could easily have been applied to Sean as well. For all his rugged good looks, Sean had been a quiet man, a researcher, quick to hide behind his glasses, and with a tendency for awkward social interaction. When he had decided to teach the history that he loved, Viggo had hoped it would bring him out of his shell. And it had, to some extent. Sean was still quiet and personal, but he let people get close to him and had even thrown parties to share his beloved Blades with his workmates.
“So what's your plan?” Viggo asked, knowing that Sean, the consummate researcher, always had a plan.
“Well,” Sean began thoughtfully, “praising his good questions for starters, asking his opinion in class—though not to the exclusion of other kids' views. Encouraging discussion about the points he raises, so that he can see how broad and varied conversation can be sparked by an interesting idea of his.” He paused and looked at his best friend. “Seriously Vig, this kid is full of the most interesting insights. For instance, he asked—on the first day, mind you—how extensive the agricultural damage created by the Visigoths was, and how long, once conquered, the land took to recover.” Sean paused to take another hit and leaned back on the couch, looking peaceful. “The kid's got an eye for detail. A natural researcher. Fifty bucks says he goes into history as a major.”
Sean's eyes were glazed over and Viggo didn't know if it was the pot or the bliss of a truly interested student that had caused it. He thought about Dominic and understood Sean's elation. There was nothing as rewarding as teaching a student who was hungry for your subject. One who wanted to know as much as possible about it, who brought in questions and researched at home to sate his or her hunger. Viggo pictured the diminutive young man, the way his eyes shone as he listened to Viggo, the way he followed his insightful comments with a question, showing his own lack of confidence. Viggo wondered if Dominic knew how astute his insights were and decided to take a page out of Sean's book and let him know.
“Vig?” Sean's voice drifted into Viggo's thoughts.
“Hmm?” Viggo responded, looking up at Sean, who was now standing.
“I asked you if you wanted another glass of wine,” Sean said patiently. He was familiar with the meanderings of Viggo's mind and, as such, didn't sound put out.
“Sure,” Viggo nodded, handing over his glass.
“Where'd you go?” Sean automatically inquired.
Viggo grinned. Sean never got bored of Viggo's roaming thoughts, and for that, Viggo was eternally grateful.
“Just thinking about a student. Your Mr. Bana reminded me of one of my kids. Dominic,” Viggo said.
“Dominic Monaghan?” Sean asked, “I had him as a freshman. Kid's memorable, that's for sure.”
Viggo perked up. “What do you mean?” There was a tone of apprehension in his best friend's voice that concerned Viggo.
“He kept hanging out around my room after class, dropping by my office before school. I think he wanted to be my friend or something. Even brought me dinner one night I was there late grading essays. He didn't get that that sort of thing's just not done,” Sean explained, pursing his lips. “Nice kid though, very bright and passionate.”
“Does he not have any friends?” Viggo asked.
“Quite the contrary,” Sean replied. “He's popular kid.” He paused, unsure of his next words, “Just liked me, I guess.”
“Well, you're a likable guy, Sean. I'm not surprised.” Viggo smiled. “I can see why he'd want to get to know you better. You were challenging him, offering him new points of view. That's hard to find with high school friends.”
“Well, if that's true, you're in trouble my friend. You run the most mind-bending class in the place,” Sean warned.
“I'll keep an eye on him,” Viggo promised, failing—of course—to mention how much the boy was already on his mind. Viggo was almost certain that further vigilance wouldn't be necessary.
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RL is getting in the way of writing this week, but hopefully the next chapter will be posted by the middle of next week at the latest. :(