Happy Holidays, Cinaed!

[vulgarweed.livejournal.com]

Title: Changes the Same
Author: Secret
Disclaimer: characters mentioned herein (barring Emilia) are the intellectual property of Messrs. Gneil and Pterry.
Rating: PG-13 for language, pre-Wensleydale/Brian
Recipient: cinaed
Prompt used: Post-book fic for Them, in college or thinking about college-- how does Adam handle everyone possibly leaving Lower Tadfield? What have Them grown up to be interested in? Or even college fic, with Brian and Wensleydale as roommates, driving each other crazy (there's a difference between being friends and being roommates, after all).
A.N.: Beta thanks toagenttrojie. Happy holidays, Cinaed.



'Are you sure you want to live with your friend, Brian? It's not always the best idea – you can rub each other the wrong way when you're cooped up together.'

'I'll be fine, Mum, really. Give over that box, it's too heavy for you.'

***


***

'Brian, please get your sweaty socks off my bed.'

He looked up from the slightly crumpled envelope he was addressing. 'Huh? Oh, is that where they went? Thanks, Wens.'

Wensley carefully removed his specs and polished them on his shirt-tail, glowering short-sightedly in Brian's direction. 'You've not done your cleaning today either.'

'Eh, relax. I'll get 'round to it eventually. What's on for tonight? Adam having another games night?'

***



***

'Brian. Get your dirty boots off my textbooks,' Wensley snapped tightly. 'I put them on the desk specifically so they would not bloody well get stepped on.'

Brian jumped and jerked his feet away, spilling the books on the floor and tipping his chair over backwards with a violent clatter, head smacking loudly into the corner of his bunk as he went down. '…ow,' he croaked, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling.

'Oh hell, are you all right?' the fuzzy glint bending over him asked. It resolved into Wensley's worried expression, glasses reflecting the horrible fluorescent dorm lights.

'Uh...' He shifted his shoulders experimentally. 'Don't feel broken?' He squinted at Wensley. 'Uh. Sorry 'bout your books.'

'Forget that, idiot! Can you follow my finger?' He waved it entirely too wildly in front of Brian's nose.

'Urgh. Gonna be sick...'

'Bugger. Minor concussion, probably.' His hand, his fingers five points of heat, pressed Brian's shoulder back down. 'Stay there. Don't move. I'm going to call Pepper, get her to bring Emilia's car around so we can get you to Accident and Emergency.'

''bout Adam?'

'He's in Hull for that music festival, remember? You were going to go, but you had a field class you didn't want to miss.'

'Oh. Righ'.'
'Right, phoning. Keep talking, Brian.'

'Bossy,' he muttered hazily.

Wensley's voice moved a little away. 'Pepper, we've had a bit of an accident, I think Brian's concussed. ...no. No, I told you we weren't. ... Shut up. I need you to bring her car around so we can get him to hospital. ... Just a minor one, right. ... All right.'

'So we foun' the thing. The algae thing th' professor was talking about last week, says there ain't been one for decades, thought it was extinct,' Brian rambled, closing his eyes against the glare of the lights. 'Was tellin' Adam 'bout it. An' we found one. I saw it. I was up to m'knees in mud and thought it looked strange.'

'Sounds like something you'd do.'

'This weekend I mean. Professor's all excited, says he'll give me a whatsit. Finder's credit thing.'
'Mmhm?' That warm hand was back, settling gently in his hair.

''Cos he's writing a paper on it.'
'That's good.'

'I may throw up.'

'You've said. I've got a rubbish bin you can use if you need to.'

'A'right.'

***



***

Brian poked the plaster on his forehead experimentally. 'So what were you sniping at Pepper for? Did she forget to get crisps?'

Wens hummed something that sounded affirmative. 'Stop poking; you'll hurt yourself.'

'Nahh, I'm fine.' Brian squinted at himself in the mirror. 'Had a bit of headache earlier, but it cleared up right enough around noon. Adam rang to say he'd be back early and I went to fetch myself a bite and by the time I'd finished eating, my head felt normal.'

'All right then.'

'Erh...I'm sorry about your papers.'

'Don't worry about them, I just printed out a new copy.'

'Right, what has got you in such a mood then? Sorry I've been a bother.'

Wensley dropped onto his bunk, hand over his eyes. 'Don't worry about it, Brian. I've got three hundred pages to read on accounting before tomorrow, that's all.'

'Fuck, sorry mate. I'll shut up, then.'

'Thanks.'

Brian nodded and settled into the corner of his bed with a comic, his duvet piled up to make a cushion. Wensley spread three textbooks across his own tidy sheets, turned on his side and propped his head up on his hand, specs winking in the light as he turned pages slowly and steadily.

Occasionally, he made a note in his scratchy shorthand. Brian finished his comic and picked up another.

Gradually, Wensley's head drifted downward, nodding as gravity took over. Brian watched fondly as he slowly lost his posture and slumped over his book, pen skidding a little on the looseleaf and leaving a blotch of black ink. Brian disentangled himself from the coverlet and stepped quietly across the room to remove the pen before it did any more damage and pile the books on the desk so they didn't get knocked off the bed and trod on.

'Thanks, Wens,' he muttered quietly. 'G'night.'



~end~



Happy Holidays, cinaed, from your Secret Writer (and list-maker!)

Comments

[cinaed.livejournal.com]

Oh, this was lovely, Mystery Writer! Thank you so much! I adored the letters and the banter, and OF COURSE Pepper would (not so secretly) ship them. This was sweet and adorable and awesome. Once again, thanks! I loved it.

[secret-kracken.livejournal.com]

Oh, good, I'm glad you liked it! I had fun.