Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2008-02-12 10:06:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | hb fic dakin/irwin |
HB fic: Quondam [Dakin/Irwin, general]
Title: Quondam
Author: celandineb
Fandom: History Boys
Pairing: Dakin/Irwin
Rating: general
Summary: Dakin asks about Irwin's past.
Note: Teenyfic (418 words). This occurs right before "Elusion," but stands alone.
"How many men have you slept with?"
Dakin's voice is carefully casual, but Irwin can tell that the question matters a great deal to him by the way that Dakin's fingers pick at the hem of the sheet which is drawn up to his chest. It's the second time he's asked, this time more directly than at their first re-encounter.
This is the fifth time they've met since Dakin's most unexpected telephone call, the fifth time they have had sex. Fucked, Irwin thinks, is the right word. It's not making love, not yet anyway, and he isn't sure if it ever could be, with Dakin. Perhaps. Irwin needs someone like this, he knows that, but the real question is whether Dakin needs him, and even more importantly, is willing to admit it.
To buy himself a moment or two, Irwin reaches for the packet of cigarettes on the table next to the bed and lights one.
"Enough," he says finally, tapping off the ash. It's a number rather higher than he can immediately reckon at the moment. Most of them were one-offs, though; if what Dakin wants to know is with how many has Irwin been in a relationship, or even just seen more than once or twice, the number is significantly lower, only fourteen or fifteen, and of those only two could be considered long-term, having lasted more than half a year each.
He expects Dakin to pursue the question, to press for a precise figure, but Dakin only nods and takes the cigarette from Irwin's fingers, bringing it to his lips and taking a great drag of smoke. Irwin hasn't seen him with a cigarette since... well, not since then. He has thought Dakin had quit. Irwin has tried, has cut down, but never quite managed to stop altogether.
"You're the second."
Dakin's words make Irwin's stomach feel as though he'd been punched. "Oh," is all he manages to say as Dakin hands him the cigarette again.
"Surprised?"
"I am, a little." One part of him is surprised that Dakin had has not been as profligate with men as he quite evidently has with women, a fact obvious just from the casual remarks he's let fall. Another part is surprised that Dakin was ever with any man besides himself, foolish though he knows that is.
He smokes the rest of the cigarette in silence, grinds it out in the ashtray. Dakin's breath comes regularly; he's dozed off. Irwin looks at him, wondering, and lets him sleep.