Characters: Alexei/Ittan-momen (bulak) & Wesley/Icarus (burning_hubris) Date/Time: Backdated to Monday the 21st Location: Icarus' class, campus, faculty housing Rating: PG/PG-13 Warnings: Not much, really? Except "kids: don't get high at school". Summary: Alexei got a cupcake and Wes got unexpected company. Thus the shepherding home.
It had been quite some time since Alexei had last been high. Granted, whatever had been in that cupcake was not quite up to par with the absurdly copious intakes he’d once lived off of, but after fifteen years of clean sobriety? His behavior was beyond ridiculous - walking in curves and spins instead of straight lines, bumping into walls whilst quoting Shakespeare in Russian, bursting into fits of temper at unsuspecting students (all right, not terribly out of the norm for him)...
And now, after substituting for a Calculus for Engineers class, he found himself hurtling towards the room a few doors down. Pushing open the door, without fanfare and definitely without prompting, he embarked on yet another Shakespearean spiel in his native tongue. Finishing off with a spectacular collapse as his soul suddenly possessed the blanket of a little Indian girl in Calcutta.
Fortunately, the retraction of his soul had become a somewhat instinctive exercise, and despite Alexei’s less than spectacular state, he found himself returned to his body within seconds. “Fuck,” he said, in English at last. “India is goddamned blistering.”
~
Having been completely unaware of the Cupcake Epidemic on campus, Wesley continued teaching his Engineering 101 class, wrapping up the lab and assigning reading homework. The only thing that made class anything outside of usual would be the sneezing fits he suffered through from any leftover spores in the air. But as he was about to dismiss his class, the door flew open and the last person he expected to roll in did. He was about to ask Alexei what the hell he was doing when the other professor seemed to space out. Frowning, he walked over to Alexei just in time for him to pop back from Calcutta.
As soon as the professor mentioned India, Wes turned to his class. “Dismissed, everyone out. Pages 80 to 125. Go.” As the kids filed out, he gripped Alexei by the shoulders, trying to look him in the eyes and register what was wrong. “What did you do?” He asked. “Did you take something?”
~
“Cupcakes,” Alexei replied dryly, not meeting Wesley’s eyes. “But obviously there was less than pleasant content - or perhaps I should be saying absolutely pleasant content - in those pastries and now...” He waved an arm in what was likely meant to be a casual, dismissive gesture. “Here we are.”
Shrugging out of Wesley’s grip, he sauntered (rather clumsily) his way over to one of the student chairs. “Teach me something, учитель,” he drawled languidly, pointing at the front of the room, his eyes still unfocused. “I am so tired of teaching.”
~
...Cupcakes? Oh hell in handbasket, it didn’t take long to figure a prank when he heard one. Though Wes didn’t have long to cogitate on all the hows/whens/whys, because as soon as Alexei moved from his grip and gravitated towards student seats, his senses went into high alert. The equipment in this class was very expensive. On top of that, given his condition his co-worker could very easily harm himself.
Following Alexei cautiously, he hovered next to the man as he sat himself down. This man and this room were not a good combination. “How about we catch our breath for a moment. Relax. What do you want to know?” Maybe if it was something applicable, Wes could convince his fellow professor to walk with him back to his home and he could explain it on the way.
~
There was another dismissive wave of Alexei’s hand. “Do your students give you your syllabus?” A pause. “That would be very interesting, though - student-defined curricula. We’d be teaching them about pot and e ‘til our dying days.”
With that last word, he slumped down on the seat, his arms cradling his head as his eyes finally fixed on Wesley. Walking back home was likely going to be the best course of action for Wesley, considering Alexei lived in faculty housing. Convincing the doctor wouldn’t be too hard - the high was dulling down into a neutral, passive glaze.
~
Biting his tongue at the humor - it was an amusing thought to be sure, but not so much at the moment - Wes nodded offhandedly. “Or I could have just had my kids stay and we could’ve given them a live demonstration.” There was no doubt that half of them had found cupcakes by now anyway.
Taking advantage of the slump and the light glaze, Wes put his hand gently on Alexei’s back. He remained standing in a defensive position should the man decide to move suddenly. “Let’s take a walk. We can make fun of anyone else who found a cupcake. And the fresh air might do some good.”
~
“I think I did all the demonstrating already.”
There was, in fact, a sudden attempt at standing on Alexei’s part. Which ended up in his tumbling back down into the seat. The doctor muttered a few curses in Russian before attempting another stand. This time, he was successful. (Barely.)
“Walks, yes. Sounds amazing. Fresh air, sobriety - never realized how sorely I underestimate their value at times.”
~
As soon as Alexei jerked up, Wes tried to get on top of it, but the man went back down before he could grip him. When the second attempt commenced, he firmly planted his hands on his back, helping him stay upright.
What he said made Wes wonder what all stewed beneath the surface, but now didn’t seem to be the best time. Maybe later they could talk about it, but one step at a time. Literally, in this case. “It’s the little things.” He agreed, trying to guide Alexei to the door without being pushy. “Quality company, too.”
~
Alexei wasn’t making this whole guiding thing an easy affair. He seemed easily distracted by the minutiae, ducking to peer at a soldering iron and twisting to fiddle with the cables of a multimeter. Fortunately, nothing exploded or was ripped to shreds, and the teachers made their way out of the classroom without any damage save a few misplaced apparatus. (Apparati? Apparatuses? The words blended and distorted in Alexei’s head.)
“I am wonderful company, aren’t I? Woooondeeeerfuuuul.” At this rate, Alexei was about two inches from becoming a total public menace. Wesley likely merited a community service award of some sort from the school. “Fucking seniors, really. This always has to happen when they think they’re scot-free. Serves them right when I fail them, little shits.”
~
Oh God, Wes never thought walking twenty feet to the door of his classroom would cause him such near emotional devastation. By the time they’d reached the hall, his own heart was beating a mile a minute. If something had happened to any of that equipment, it was safe to say he’d have hunted down whoever made the cupcakes and made them pay.
At all times, Wes either had his hand on Alexei’s back or remained close enough to do so, his eyes both keeping an eye on the high Russian and commanding bypassers to move along. They weren’t even out of the building and he was causing a scene. “Maybe they can’t get past that wonderful company of yours. Who knows, you could very well have a cult student following.” It sounded mildly ridiculous, but in his state Alexei was suggestible and therefore amusing.
As they were on the third floor of the building, Wes came to the dilemma of Stairs versus Elevator. The latter was selected, as he figured it was faster and if he safeguarded the control panel, it shouldn’t be too much effort. Pushing the down button and waiting for the doors to slide open, he escorted Alexei in, selecting the ground floor and monitoring his ward.
~
Elevator was an amazing call. Alexei, short as he was, probably would have sent them both tumbling down the steps. And even though there wasn’t much more teaching to be done, a case of two injured teachers wasn’t likely to be well-received.
Slumping against the wall of the elevator, he responded, “A fucking waste of time, if you ask me. Unless they’re looking to specialize in trauma psychology - then they could learn a damn thing or two.” He had no falsely modest delusions about how brilliant he was in his field, yet neither did he have enough decency to curb his rather grating arrogance.
“Think yours’ll be doing okay this graduation season?” he added gruffly when the elevator doors opened at ground, as if remembering Wesley was more a friend than the other people he had to deal with and therefore merited some consideration. Especially when taking into account that Alexei was high and that Wesley was there for him. Okay, maybe for Wesley, decency could somehow be harnessed and arrogance curbed. Or, at least, that could happen when Alexei was sober. He wasn’t making any guarantees.
~
As one who was as proud in his field as Alexei was in his, Wes had no issue with the man’s arrogance on the matter. It was a daily test of his patience working as a professor, especially considering it hadn’t previously been a career he’d have chosen. “Sometimes you think it’s not a question of if they were dropped on their heads as babies, but more how many times.” The topic of trauma psychology both pulled at Wesley’ curiosity and frightened him. Gave him the willies.
The question did throw him off for a moment, because despite not knowing much about Alexei, it had been made evident over time that those sorts of inquiries were fairly infrequent. But as they moved towards the building doors, he felt he had no issue talking to him. It wasn’t as though it was a question pertaining to life-altering events or seedy gossip. “I expect no less than the best.” He admitted, his own tone expressing pride and his thoughts glazing back to the one conversation he’d had with Janie a few months back. “Besides, with the sort of equipment kept in the lab, it makes playing with them pretty damn fun.”
~
Alexei barked a laugh at that. Was it any wonder he and Wesley were on good terms, despite all of Alexei’s snark? The man had a sense of humor that resonated just right with Alexei’s utter misanthropy. “Fuck, makes you think how many careless parents are running amuck out there. Thank God India’s got a sensible man for a fa --”
There was an entirely graceful and dignified moment wherein Alexei tripped over thin air, having again been sent off to inhabit a Hungarian man’s underpants. As usual, he caught himself instantaneously, though the trip left him dizzy. As if being high in itself wasn’t fucking enough. “For a father.” Another pause as Alexei estimated the distance between where they stood to the faculty dorms - not very far. Excellent, moving on: “I can only imagine how many goddamn holes they’ve poked into themselves with all those soldering irons.”
~
With Alexei’s laugh, Wes himself smiled for the first time since he stumbled into his class. It was true not many were easily accepting of Alexei’s humor and snark, but Wes had always been confident enough in himself that he never let it bother him. While they hadn’t hung out often outside of work, he always respected and liked the professor. Even in this state, he was comfortable to talk to. On top of that, any compliment about India earned immediate points in his book.
The man’s stumbling and vanishing of active consciousness tore Wesley from his moment of self-importance, and his hands were immediately on his shoulders again. At the very least, upon Alexei’s return, he had something to help grip him against the bout of dizziness that besieged him. But the man was quick back to his wits and Wes released him with a silent sigh of relief. “Holes formed, sleeves caught, one or two perforated eardrums. If there’s a way to injure themselves, someone will discover how.” He chuckled. “Not a decent semester if you aren’t wiping blood off the floor at least once.”
~
“Maybe I should have my students practice on yours,” Alexei mused. “They’ll probably get more action waiting by the Engineering classrooms than staffing the ER.”
When a gaggle of high students came sauntering in front of them, he clumsily barked out a few choice words. Unfortunately, they came out in Russian, but the students got the picture nonetheless.
“Fuck, how many stupid shits can fall for free food?” If he realized how hypocritical he was being, he made no mention of it. “Someone in the admin’s got to get a PSA out.” And then the moments of coherence were gone, lost to more senseless Russian ramblings. The more attentive listener might have discerned the switch from Shakespeare to Galen, but either way, it didn’t mean much. Fortunately, the two professors were entering the faculty housing building as the drugs in Alexei’s system persisted in making themselves noticed.
~
It was true: for all his attention and focus on teaching and the safety of the kids, there was always a slip. It was usually why he kept his class numbers to no more than 20, which was relatively tiny for a college, but what was necessary when labs were involved.
When Alexei barked in Russian and the students started, Wes followed through by waving them along. There was lots of giggling and one even tried to approach him, but a pointed glare drove the group away.
Wes decided not to point out the hypocrisy of that statement because it spoke for itself. As they reached the faculty housing, he opened the door and allowed Alexei to lead. He had no damn idea what Alexei was saying in Russian, but he tracked down the door that indicated the man’s home. “привет,” He said in an attempt to gain his attention, proud to admit he picked up one or two Russian basics from hanging out around the professor. “Do you have keys?” It was okay if he didn’t, Wes knew how to pick a lock.
~
The Russian resulted in an absurd fit of giggles from Alexei. Most times, the doctor’s humor was incomprehensible at best. Whilst high? There was no rhyme or reason to whatever he might have found funny, so certainly a shard of his native language from a tongue more used to the slippery consonants of English was adequate cause for amusement.
While Alexei would have enjoyed Wesley’s picking the lock, he managed to clumsily fish out the keys from his pocket. He brandished the tiny metal like a knight might have branded a sword.
“I am ready for this beast,” he drawled, attempting to get the key into the lock and missing. A scowl fixing itself upon his face, he paused, taking a deep breath, before finally getting the door unlocked.
~
The giggle fits had Wes smiling into the palm of his hand, mildly, amusingly embarrassed. But it had gained Alexei’s attention. The Russian was full of further hilarity when he brandished his house key in a noble, proud fashion. In humor, Wes waved his hand in a gesticulating manner, as though to say, ‘As you wish, sir.’
When the door was finally peeled open, he smirked, “Beast conquered.” but remained out in the hall rather than entering the home. Standing in the doorway, his gaze ran once more over Alexei’s form, checking to make sure the man would be fine on his own. He felt like he should stay, in case Alexei found something else funny - kitchen knives or a lighter, for example. “Water and rest. Did you leave anything in your class? Briefcase?”
~
“Why does it feel like I’m the engineer and you’re the doctor.” Taking the pair’s temperaments into account, the unbiased observer might have deduced such. Wesley was a far friendlier presence, more likely to have an easy bedside demeanor. Alexei, on the other hand, was grouchy and took well to solitude, the kind of man who could easily find himself spending hours and hours alone in a laboratory setting.
Nonetheless, Alexei was the doctor and Wesley the engineer. Now, the doctor was fairly certain he had left something behind, but in his less than sober state whatever it was was suddenly less than inconsequential. “I have conquered the beast and shall enjoy my hero’s welcome,” he said dryly, but not without good humor. Near crashing through the threshold, he offered a clumsy wave of the hand and a very, very quickly muttered ‘thank you’. (A rare instance indeed - whenever did Alexei Zhzhyonov express gratitude?)