(no subject)

[extendedmetaphor]

Since he was going to be gainfully employed, he thought that he'd better come and look around. Dakin had, of course, offered to escort him but he'd thought he'd be better feeling it out on his own. It wasn't quite the same as the Grammer school, but it had a definite charm to it, the classrooms open to the tropical breeze.

Yes, he thought. It would do nicely.
And it definitely wasn't Yorkshire.

Comments

[extendedmetaphor]

"You call me Tom," he said, quietly, like he was figuring it through. "Nobody else does. I don't think I even think of myself as Tom, often."

[patriotqueen]

Guy was intensely comfortable where he was, with Tom's hand in his hair, and his head on the other's shoulder. It had been long since he'd had a fuck, but it had been longer since he'd had a body to simply lie against. It was nice. "What?" Guy couldn't help but snort. "I haven't called anyone by their last name since Eton. Is it because you're a teacher? No life outside the classroom?"

[extendedmetaphor]

It was pleasant, to lie cradled against someone, in the heat like that, muscles still stretched and tired. Good tired. Well used.

"Maybe," he said, with an idle shrug. "I've never really thought about it."

[patriotqueen]

"Well, you've had some life beyond the classroom, havent you? This wasn't your first time, was it?" It was a tease of course, to ask him that.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Not my first time, no," said Irwin, smiling at that, combing his fingers idly through Guy's hair. "Far from it, actually. I don't know. Tom's just never really felt like me. I don't really know who he is."

[patriotqueen]

Guy closed his eyes. The hand felt even better now, as the rest of him was starting to go comfortably numb. "Dear god, what a complicated soul you must have," he said, mockingly. He had no intention whatsoever to call the other Irwin. He trailed a hand over the other's chest, smiling at the bruise it came across. "A rather debauched soul at that."

[extendedmetaphor]

"Rather," he echoed, shifting in the bed and closing his eyes. He had no intention of leaving before he'd slept. "People will talk."

But people always talked.

[patriotqueen]

"Very likely. It's a small community," Guy agreed. "Learn your history, dear, I don't give a fuck if people talk," he added, tired words, as drowsiness started to overtake him. Guy's last words would always be a curse.