"My god, what a tacky decorating scheme," was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw the inside of the main building at True Directions. It was surreal. Bright pinks and hyper-saturated blues, with the occasional background of eye-searing yellow. Furniture like something out of a parody of the '50s. It was just so... cartoonish. Did whoever furnished the place have no taste at all?
My second thought was that maybe Justin had been on to something after all, because that first thought had been pretty gay.
Not that I was gay. All joking aside, I really had no idea what the hell my teacher, my foster-father, was thinking when he sent me here. I mean, yeah, so I'd never had a girlfriend. So what? I was sixteen, gangly and awkward, and spent all my time not at school at home studying magic. The only girl I actually talked to on a regular basis was Elaine, my freaking foster-sister, and it's not like I could start dating her.
But Justin was convinced, and that meant that I was stuck here for who knows how long. Not learning any magic. And if I didn't play along, I risked getting tossed back into the system, no family, nobody to teach my to use my gifts, nobody to look out for me... I shuddered. I couldn't let that happen.
Well, these guys were supposed to be professionals. Maybe Justin might have the wrong idea, but the people here, they'd know I wasn't... like that. Maybe Justin would believe them, and I could go home, get back to working on my shield spells with Elaine.
Half an hour later, I wasn't so optimistic. I met the program director, a woman named Mary who's personality was as plastic as her face. I told her that I wasn't gay. She told me that admitting I had a problem was the first step. I met her assistant, Mike, apparently a former homosexual. After he interrogated me about my supposed 'unnatural desires,' I wasn't so sure about the 'former' bit.
Then they made me change into this... grey... thing. Kind of like a hospital gown. It didn't even close in back. What the hell they were doing putting me in something that didn't cover my butt and then throw me in with a bunch of gay guys, I don't know. I tied it together as well as I could. I would apparently earn the right to wear real clothing when I 'admitted' to my 'sickness.'
I was pretty sure I wouldn't be allowed to wear my wizard robe, though. They'd probably think it was a dress.
They had another inmate of the camp, a guy named Jeff who seemed to be a living fulfillment of gay stereotype, show me around and tell me about what we'd be doing all day. It sounded like a bunch of gobbeldygook to me- this kind of therapy, that kind of therapy. At least there was some free time I could use to study.
"And here's where we sleep!" Jeff said cheerfully as he opened a door painted in that ubiquitous shade of blue in keeping with Mary's bizare color-coding fetish. The dormitory was also blue. Blue walls, blue carpet, blue ceiling, blue beds. With wide eyes, he said, in a stage whisper, "Remember: no inappropriate behavior allowed."
"Uh..." I said.
"He means no fucking," said a bored voice from one of the beds. Well, from a guy sprawled across on one of the beds, but I hadn't noticed him at first, what with his clothes being exactly the same shade as the bedspread. He was a classically handsome kind of guy- dark brown hair, strong but refined jawline, and the sort of muscles you get from playing a sport or doing manual labor rather than spending hours in the weight room. He looked about nineteen or twenty. He was reading a book entitled Macroeconomics: A Global Perspective, and next to him were a few more thick, heavy textbooks.
"Wasn't planning on it," I said.
The guy looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. "Too bad," he said.
Jeff glared at him and hustled me out again. I was kind of uncomfortably aware of the other guy's eyes on my imperfectly covered back. "Sorry," Jeff said once the door was closed. "John has... an attitude problem. I don't think he's trying."
"Gee, really?" I said.
"Anyway," Jeff said, "Sooo, there's five steps to the program, ok? The first step is admitting you have a problem."
"Great," I said. "I don't. I'm straight. Can I go home now?"
"Oh, honey," Jeff said, shaking his head as he led me back to the main room, "we all think that at first."
also! The only girl I actually talked to on a regular basis was Elaine, my freaking foster-sister, and it's not like I could start dating her
remarkably refreshing!
and Well, from a guy sprawled across on one of the beds, but I hadn't noticed him at first, what with his clothes being exactly the same shade as the bedspread. He was a classically handsome kind of guy- dark brown hair, strong but refined jawline, and the sort of muscles you get from playing a sport or doing manual labor rather than spending hours in the weight room. He looked about nineteen or twenty.
Oh Harry. The best part, of course, being how much it parallels the cateloge Harry went through when first meeting John in Storm Front-- and almost every introduction we get to him in subsequent books. What's he wearing (or not wearing). Oh hey he's handsome: lemme tell you how.
We sat in a circle in our chairs. And then everyone went around in a circle introducing themselves. Who they were, some random fact about themselves, and then the words, "I'm a homosexual."
Steve was a computer programmer and he was a homosexual. Emma played the violin and she was a homosexual. Jeff was a fucking ridiculous stereotype and he was, gasp, a homosexual.
Andi was... Andi was interesting. Andi was, by what I could tell from her aura- not that I had much practice at reading people's auras- a little bit magically sensitive. Probably not a wizard like me, but I made a mental note to check her out. No, not like that. Well, okay, yes like that, my god, those legs, but that didn't matter, because she liked nature and she was a homosexual. What I mean was, I figured I should see whether she had some magic skills or something.
Speaking of checking out, the next girl was interesting too, though not in the magical sort of way. "I'm Murphy," she said, her voice practically seething with rage. Mary gave her a reproving look, and Murphy rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm Karrin. I just earned my second-rank black belt in Aikido. And," she gritted her teeth, "I'm a homosexual." She sat back down, arms folded, glaring at the wall. I didn't blame her. It was a really hideous wall.
Murphy was damn pretty. She was tiny- she might not even hit five feet- and her skirt and the short sleeves of her pepto-bismol pink blouse showed off a physique that was all wiry muscle. Her blond hair, cut into a short pixie cut, framed her face, which was... really nice. Cute little button nose, bright blue eyes, and take-no-shit attitude added up to a few hundred points in the the "What the hell am I doing here" column. Too bad she probably wouldn't be interested.
Well, okay, that's what they were trying to fix, wasn't it?
Ah, who was I kidding? Even if she was straight as an arrow, who would be interested in a guy who looks like me?
In one of life's little ironies, the answer to that question came immediately. The guy I'd run into in the dormitory was next. "I'm John," he said. "I assist my uncle in the management of his many business interests." He let his eyes slide over me again, up and down, not bothering to disguise it the least. "I'm a homosexual," he said blandly, with a slight, challenging smile.
I have to admit, as uncomfortable as it was to be on the recieving end of such interest, it was also kind of... nice. Reassuring. At least somebody thought I was hot, even if he was a bit too, you know, male for my taste.
The introductions continued, and I admit I spaced out a bit until they got to- okay, how had I missed Meryl? Jeez. Meryl's aura made Andi's aura look completely normal. Couldn't tell what she was, but mundane wasn't it. She was big- tall, muscled, heavyset, with hair a weird brownish-green color that couldn't have been natural and yet nobody in their right mind would choose on purpose. Another one to watch out for, even if she wasn't as asthetically pleasing.
Soon everyone but me had said their bit, and there was a slightly awkward silence.
"Now," Mary said, "Harry, it's time for your first disclosure."
"Oookay," I said. "And that would be?"
"Well, why don't you tell us about the first time you thought that you might be gay?" Mary smiled at me, a nice, sweet, and utterly fake smile.
"Um... I'm not?" I tried.
She gave me a pitying look.
"Seriously, I don't belong here," I said. "I'm not gay. I'm not attracted to guys. Stars and stones, I've probably forgotten half of everybody's names here because I was too distracted by Murphy's legs!"
"What?" Murphy said, getting halfway up from her seat before Andi pulled her back down. She sounded seriously pissed off. Whoops. Way to go, Harry. Go directly to pissing off the angry lesbian who can probably break you in half.
Mary nodded. "I see," she said. "Now, Harry, it's very common to start from a place of denial. What you need to do to see the truth is look at your life with fresh eyes. Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
"Well, no," I said. "I don't really have time for one."
There were some knowing nods around the circle. I glared at them.
"According to-" Mary consulted some papers "Elaine, is it?"
"My sister," I said, frowning. Had Elaine said something that had gotten me into this mess?
Mary frowned. "Your guardian said- well, nevermind that. According to Elaine, you've expressed some strong opinions on the looks of certain male classmates of yours."
"I can't have opinions? It's just... you know." I shrugged. "You can tell if a guy is hot or not without wanting to sleep with him, right?" My eyes slid involuntarily over to John. He didn't smirk, quite- it was more dignified than that. More of a slight, 'oh, really?' smile. I tore my eyes away. "Hell's bells," I said. "Did I really get thrown in here because I talk to my sister about the guys she's interested in?" Not that she had any more opportunity of getting a boyfriend than I had of getting a girlfriend, but still.
"You have enormous posters of Harrison Ford in your bedroom," Mary said.
"Excuse me," I said, "I wasn't aware that liking Star Wars and Indiana Jones made me gay." Not being able to watch those movies over and over was, I swear, one of the biggest downsides to being a wizard. "Is it abnormal to think Han Solo is awesome?"
"And," Mary said, "you keep pestering your guardian to get you a cat."
I stared at her. "You've got to be joking. You think. That I'm gay. Because I like cats." It took every bit of will I had- hell, every bit of Will- not to make a pussy joke. But I was good. All those lessons in self-control? Totally worth it.
"Harry," Andi said timidly. "I... look, sometimes it's difficult to know what normal is."
"Tell me about it," I muttered. Normal wasn't something I was ever going to be. Of course, if I was reading her aura right, Andi wasn't exactly normal either.
"It's just..." She twisted her hands together. "People don't talk about this sort of thing. It's easy to think that... you know, the way you look at girls- well, guys, for you- isn't sexual, because you're still learning what sexual is."
"Um, I know what sexual is," I said. "It's the way I look at" your legs, no, no, stop it Harry, stop with the foot-in-mouth disease "girls."
"And when you think a guy is hot," someone said, "that's not sexual because?"
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. Because I'm straight. Circular logic, right. Circular logic is bad. Okay. Fine. I could figure out the real answer, the answer that explained how I knew I was straight. And once I found that answer, I could go home. I took a deep, calming breath and closed my eyes.
I liked looking at women's bodies. That much, I had no doubt about. And, okay, it's not like it was a hardship to look at men's bodies either, aside from the seething jealousy about guys with more muscle than I could ever hope to have on my own scrawny frame. But that's just it. When I stared at the abs of those underwear models in the ads in the newspaper, I wasn't thinking, gee, I want to fuck that guy, I was thinking I want to look like that, if I was thinking at all.
And, I mean, okay, sometimes I'd get an erection. But given that for awhile I got hard every time I channeled fire, before I'd figured out how to access that magic without screwing with my circulatory system, it was pretty easy to dismiss the random erections I got from time to time. (Like right now, because the days was just going that well.) Take a cold shower (as if there were any other kind), move on.
So. The way I could tell that looking at girls was sexual and looking at boys wasn't, was that... Okay. I got crushes on girls sometimes. Justin discouraged it, but it's not like he could control what I was thinking. And sometimes, even though I knew it was useless, I'd let just that little bit of hope flourish, that this time she'd reciprocate, maybe this time the girl would judge me worthy of her love. And yeah, I'd think about having sex with whatever girl I was being unrealistic about, but that wasn't the point, the point was that...
Was that a girl's approval was a sign I was worthwhile.
With much trepidation, I considered the guys I had... admired, over the past couple years. Handsome, popular, smart, most of them wouldn't have a thing to do with me of course, but sometimes I thought, if I could just be their friend, that would...
I did not like where this was going.
Okay. Simple test. I would think of a guy, I would think of having sex with that guy, it would seem wrong or disgusting or even just boring, and that would be that.
I formed the vision in my mind, being as careful about details as if it was a magical working. Me, some guy- hell, why not make it Han Solo? If I didn't want to screw Han Solo, that would be positive evidence I was straight- So. Han Solo's hand on my...
Oh god.
"Stars and stones," I said weakly, as I opened my eyes "I'm a homosexual."
I formed the vision in my mind, being as careful about details as if it was a magical working. Me, some guy- hell, why not make it Han Solo? If I didn't want to screw Han Solo, that would be positive evidence I was straight- So. Han Solo's hand on my...
Oh god.
LOL. Oh, Harry.
(Though Han Solo = ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTANDABLE as he is awesome and amazing. Erm. )
Marry me. Ok, not really, because my girlfriend would get pissed, also that's very creepy indeed, and I don't want to upset anyone, but, seriously? This has made my day.
"Strictly speaking," John said later, over dinner, "you're probably actually bisexual."
"Okay, what," I said, "so I'm halfway normal or something? Great."
"I guess you'll have an easier time than the rest of us," Meryl said, listlessly poking her broccoli with her spoon.
"Small consolation," I muttered. "I was fine before I got here." I glared at Andi. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be straight."
Andi flinched- I realized, too late, that I'd been flinging bits of energy around, not enough for most people to notice, but, well. Andi was sensitive. Magically speaking. And also emotionally speaking, judging from her anguished look. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said. "But... you know... it probably would have come up eventually. Isn't it better that it happen here, where you can work through it?"
"No! Yes! I don't know!" I stabbed at my food angrily, and then worked on reigning in the excessive energy. Control. Right.
I wished I could talk to Elaine. Even if getting me sent here was partially her fault- she must have thought she was helping. And maybe Andi was right, maybe it was better this way. But here I was, part of my whole self-image turned on it's head, and I was supposed to talk about it with a bunch of strangers.
I didn't want to talk about it with a bunch of strangers. I wanted to talk about it with Elaine.
After dinner, we were supposed to watch some sort of film that supposedly illustrated healthy heterosexual relationships, and actually illustrated the hazards of being too cheap to hire real actors. Fortunately for us, about ten minutes in the film projector mysteriously broke down.
Well, everyone else thought it was mysterious.
In the free time before lights out that followed, I started writing a letter to Elaine. I was about three lines in before I was interrupted.
"Who are you writing to?" Jeff asked, peering over my shoulder.
"My sister," I said, turning away so he couldn't read what I was writing.
"Oh," he said. "Um... you probably shouldn't call Mary a bitch?"
"Why the hell not?" I asked. "She is one." Okay, she was trying to help me, but still. That didn't mean I had to like her.
"Because she reads all of our mail, incoming and outgoing." John said. He was studying again. Some book about business logistics.
"Oh," I said. I should have guessed, really. And now that I thought about it, Justin would probably read anything I sent to Elaine too. I mean, sure, that was his right, but... it meant I couldn't be honest. Not that I was in the habit of lying to Justin, but there was a lot of stuff I wanted to tell Elaine that I would just feel weird if I knew Justin knew. I didn't want Justin to know when I felt weak, or confused. He wouldn't understand. He'd tell me to toughen up, as if I wasn't trying. Elaine understood that sometimes I just needed to- fine. Sometimes I needed to whine a bit before solving my problems. It didn't mean they didn't get solved, it didn't mean I needed help, I just wanted to vent a bit.
I sighed and crumpled up the paper. I palmed it out of sight from everyone else- a trick I learned from my real father, when I was a little kid- and channeled some of the frustration I felt into it, letting my anger burn the paper to ash. I wiped my hand off discreetly on the bedsheets and breathed a little easier. Literally burning off my excess emotions was a habit I'd picked up a few months ago.
I looked up to find John staring at me intently. Not wide-eyes "what the hell?" staring, but a sort of squinted "I know something is up but I don't know what" staring. Damn. I'd have to be more careful. "What?" I said- okay, maybe sort of snarled- at him.
He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, and didn't look up from his book until lights out.
I woke suddenly, at some faint noise. I looked around the dark room, lit only by what light came in from outside.
John's bed was empty.
This was not my problem, I told myself. If John wanted to break curfew and sneak out of bed, well, that was his business. Hell, he was probably just in the bathroom or something. Except that the bathroom was right there, and there weren't any sounds coming from it.
I rolled over. This wasn't my problem. I was going back to sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing on the porch outside the boy's dormitory with some salt packets I'd swiped at dinner, my pentacle, and a dirty pair of John's underwear. I was barefoot and in my pajamas (provided by True Directions and therefore blue), but that was actually pretty comfy in the mild summer night air.
Yeah, yeah, less than twelve hours since I'd figured out I was... like that... and I was already an underwear-stealing pervert. So sue me. I tried for some of his hair, but his comb was clean. Underwear it would have to be.
While keeping alert for any sounds of people approaching, I poured out a circle of salt on the porch, stepped inside, and closed it with an application of Will. I took a minute or two just to clear my thoughts and gather the power I needed. I tied the underwear around my mother's pentacle and held it up on it's chain in front of me. Then I concentrated as Justin had taught me, murmured a few words of Latin, and broke the circle.
My makeshift pendulum swung sharply off to the east. I quickly swept the salt off the porch, and walked quickly and silently through the grass. The tracking spell led me off the property, into some nearby woods. I was glad I was used to walking in the woods barefoot, from some of the elemental exercises Justin had set me to doing- doing so in the dark unpracticed could have gotten uncomfortable.
It didn't take too long before I found him. The woods were awfully convenient; they let me hide and watch him unobserved.
He was also in his pajamas, though he'd put on some sort of boots. He was talking to another man, built rather like a small mountain. The other man handed John a black backpack. They talked a little more, then John slung the backpack on- I guessed it was pretty heavy, judging from how it moved- and headed... straight towards me.
Shit.
He didn't look like he saw me, though, more like he was just coming back the way he came. But there was a decent chance he'd see me hiding in the bushes, what with the stupid bright blue pajamas.
I'm bad at veils. Terrible, more like. Oh, I can hide things, but I hide them under a big brown smudge that pretty much screams "SOMETHING HIDDEN HERE." Still, it was dark, the trees were thick... I closed my eyes and concentrated. Then opened them. Yep, felt like I was standing in the middle of a giant beer bottle. I squinted out, but I couldn't really see a thing.
I heard rustling of leaves as John trudged by me in his big boots- bare feet would never make so much noise, I thought smugly- then an agonizing pause, terrifyingly close to me. I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity and was probably at least fifteen seconds, and then he moved on, more slowly.
I counted to five hundred in my head, slowly, and then dropped the veil. Even as little as a year ago that, on top of the tracking spell, would have left me worn out, but I actually felt fine. Maybe not like I wanted to do that again, but still. I was getting better. Woo.
I walked back to the house, and managed to slip into the boy's dorm without being seen.
He was kneeling by his bed, re-arranging the contents of his suitcase. I could see the backpack next to him, empty.
"Hey," I said, as casually as I could. "What are you doing?"
He pushed his bag under the bed again and stood up. "I might ask the same of you," he said.
I shrugged. "Bathroom."
He glanced pointedly at the boy's bathroom, en-suite with the bedroom. "Really now."
Yeah, I really should have had a better lie ready. I took what I hoped was a confident step forward. "Does it matter where I was?"
He was looking at me a bit oddly. "No, I suppose it doesn't."
"Great," I said. "I'm glad we've had this chat. I'm going back to bed."
"Wait," he said, closing the distance between us in a few brief strides.
He was standing two, maybe three feet away. "What?" I said, trying to make it clear that I didn't appreciate my personal space being violated.
"You've got leaves in your hair," he said, reaching for my head.
I froze. My heart started beating wildly and adrenaline surged in fight-or-flight response as he combed his fingers through my hair. I concentrated on my breath, a normal calming exercise.
"There," he said quietly, holding the leaves out for my inspection. He met my eyes, and I blinked once, but didn't remember to look away in time to prevent the soulgaze from starting.
I'd only ever soulgazed before with Elaine. I had seen her as the woman she was destined to become, a woman of grace and power. I had seen the wisdom and bravery she would come to have as she grew up. She was the ocean, vast and deep, shifting and swirling while remaining at the core the same.
I saw grace and power and wisdom and bravery in John too, but he wasn't anything like the the ocean. His mind was cool, and meticulously organized, and thrumming with the coiled tension of a predator. I felt his determination, sharp and relentless, to achieve his goals. He strategized, he plotted, he had plans and contingency plans mapped out for years, decades- I couldn't see their content, but I knew for a fact they were there. His life was one of waiting and watching, always, always ready to spring into action. He wasn't fearless; he felt fear, dispassionately evaluated it, and then put it aside. He had been raised as a soldier, a killer, and yes, he had killed before, feeling and then putting aside his regret- not guilt, not remorse, just quiet regret. His anger was a slow-burning fury, fed by contempt for those who took pleasure in cruelty. His own greatest pleasures came from pride, from a job well-executed, from doing things that he did well.
He had also put aside his shame at the events that led to him coming here. He wasn't ashamed about his sexual desires. He was ashamed that he had been careless. Shame that he had been caught, that he had taken a foolish risk for too small of a payoff. And he had taken that shame, and had fed it into his determination: he would make up for his mistake, he would correct the setbacks this had thrown into his plans.
And then, hidden away in a dark corner of his mind, was doubt. Doubt of his goals. A small, secret desire to just chuck everything aside and- and do what? He didn't know. He was a man who had all of his will bent to a goal because he didn't know what else to want.
And that frightened him.
The soulgaze ended. His eyes were wide in shock, but it took only a moment for him to collect himself again. "What-" his voice quavered, and then I could see himself clamping down, recovering his self-control. "What was that?"
"Soulgaze," I said, too off-balance to even think of a lie.
"And that's..."
"What it sounds like," I said. "It- goes both ways. Sorry. It- it happens if I look into someone's eyes too long."
"Ah," he said, instantly looking elsewhere.
"Just once," I added. "Can't happen again."
At the sound of heavy footsteps outside, we exchanged a very brief glance, and wasting no time, each dove into our own bed. We were barely in time; the door opened, and I could hear someone standing in the doorway. And then the door closed, and the footsteps retreated.
I fell asleep again wondering what John had seen in my eyes.
I managed to avoid John the next morning for a few hours. I'd already been getting that familiar admiring feeling for him, the one that I hadn't realized was a crush because I am an idiot. If I hadn't gotten clued in about that, I would probably be following him around like a lost puppy, like I'd done with Dave Martins my freshman year in highschool, and suddenly I wondered if maybe all those times they'd beaten me up for being a fag hadn't been because I was a scrawny geek but because I was actually looking at boys in a fag-like manner. Without even knowing I was doing it. Because I'm an idiot.
I wanted to be getting rid of that sort of feeling, not encouraging it. So I would be trying to avoid John even if I wasn't scared to death of him now. It wasn't just that I was unnerved to be around someone- someone only a few years older than me- who could kill dispassionately. I was scared because now this guy knew what I was. And I was alone. Justin had always emphasized to Elaine and me, that as young, relatively untrained magic users, we were in danger. Predators were everywhere, people who would seek to take advantage of us, to use us. And here I'd gone and let some... some damn scary man take a look into my soul. Even if that peek at me didn't show him that I was a wizard, he knew that I could soulgaze. He knew that I was special. And Justin wasn't around to protect me.
I wondered if I should call home, tell Justin what happened. He'd come and get me, make sure I was safe. Or would he? I'd already disappointed him by turning out broken like this. Compound that with admitting a stupid mistake like letting someone soulgaze me, and maybe he'd make good on his threats to turn me out on the street.
No, I'd have to deal with this alone. I wasn't completely helpless. Whatever else John could do, whatever he'd done, he wasn't a wizard. I had that advantage over him.
But I still didn't feel like hanging around with him, so I sat at the other table during breakfast, and on the other side of the room during our morning orientation. He didn't seem to be trying to talk to me, so that made things nice and easy.
My luck ran out about halfway through the morning.
I froze as John sat down on the grass next to me. "That's harder than it looks," he said contemplatively. This morning's therapeutic activity was, for us boys, chopping firewood. John had done pretty well. I was pretty sure he hadn't done it before, but he caught on quick, and had the strength for it. "You made it look easy," he continued.
I grunted dismissively. "Practice. Justin heats the house with wood. My job to chop it." As far as chores went, it wasn't too bad. Physically demanding, sure, but satisfying. It would have been more satisfying if I had any muscle to show for it. "So I guess if splitting logs makes you straight, maybe that's why I'm less gay than the other guys here?"
John didn't say anything.
"But," I said, thinking aloud, "that's from four winters worth of firewood. What can we really do in one month?"
John still didn't say anything.
Well, that was good, I reminded myself. I didn't want to be talking to him.
After a few more minutes of silence and watching the other guys attempt and fail to actually hit the wood with the ax, I risked a glance at John.
He was looking right at me, staring at me like I was some sort of puzzle he was trying to figure out. "You really believe this will work, don't you."
"Why wouldn't it?" I asked. "Look, just because you don't want to change, doesn't mean-"
I broke off when I saw Steve approaching, Mike having moved on to other pupils.
John smiled. "Good morning, Steve," he said genially.
Steve nodded at him. "Hey. So, um. Did you get the stuff?"
"Of course," John said, reaching into his pocket. He removed a tin of Altoids and opened it for Steve's inspection.
I couldn't quite see what was in it, but somehow I doubted it was mints.
John closed the tin, Steve nodded and looked around furtively, then handed John a small handful of bills, took the tin from him, and hurried off to go talk to one of the other guys.
I exhaled the breath I didn't even know I was holding. "That's quite a markup for some breathmints," I commented as he counted out the money.
He looked me right in the eye. His eyes, I noticed now that we were in bright sunlight, were a faded green, the color of the bills he was tucking into his pocket. "Entrepreneurship," he said blandly.
"You do that sort of thing often?"
"Not very often, no. But it's a good idea for management to take a turn on the floor from time to time."
I silently considered the implications of that statement, especially combined with what I'd seen in him last night.
"If there's anything you want..." he added.
"No," I said shortly. "I don't use drugs and I don't have any money, so don't even bother."
"I could get your letters delivered to Elaine, uncensored," he offered. "And an address for her to write back to."
"I said, I don't have any money." And he couldn't do a thing about Justin on the other end. His gaze was getting intense, like he was trying to see into my soul again. I looked away.
"I'm not after your money, Harry."
Of course he wasn't. "Then what are you after?" Maybe, if I was lucky, he was just trying to- to get into my pants or something. That, I could deal with.
"Who says I'm after anything?" he said. "Maybe I just want to do something nice for you."
"Gee, that's re-assuring," I said. "Look, John, I may have only met you yesterday, but after last night, I know you. I know you better than I know anyone but Elaine, and there is no fucking way you aren't trying to get something from me."
"About last night," John said quietly after a moment. "The- soulgaze, you called it?"
"Yeah," I said.
"It's because of- of what you are, isn't it," he said.
"I don't know what you mean," I lied.
"Magic," he said quietly. "I saw magic in you."
"Well," I spat out, "aren't you just the sweetest romantic, then." Shaking, I stood up. "Fuck off, John. You don't have anything I want, and I won't get caught up in your schemes or plans."
With that, I stalked back to the others, to beg another turn with the ax.
I especially loved the part where Harry's talking about Justin, and how well the manipulative/controlling relationship comes through without Harry even realizing it. Well done!
I am coming to the strong realization that this is going to be a lot, um, darker than the movie it was inspired by. Because of these poor boys didn't have problems far, far worse than parents who disapprove of their sexual orientation, they wouldn't be our Harry and John, would they. And, you know, there's just not going to be an epilogue with Justin joining PFLAG.
This is wonderful. I love these versions of Harry and John. Dialogues are perfect, Harry's self-illusion is soo Harry. The whole scene of soulgazing, starting with the leaves (John, you are such a charmer!), was simply beautiful: full of tension, of the first glimpse of future possibilities - for both of them, ahh.
This is wonderful. I love these versions of Harry and John. Dialogues are perfect, Harry's self-illusion is soo Harry. The whole scene of soulgazing, starting with the leaves (John, you are such a charmer!), was simply beautiful: full of tension, of the first glimpse of future possibilities - for both of them, ahh.
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But I'm a Wizard FILL 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 02:27 pm (UTC)(link)My second thought was that maybe Justin had been on to something after all, because that first thought had been pretty gay.
Not that I was gay. All joking aside, I really had no idea what the hell my teacher, my foster-father, was thinking when he sent me here. I mean, yeah, so I'd never had a girlfriend. So what? I was sixteen, gangly and awkward, and spent all my time not at school at home studying magic. The only girl I actually talked to on a regular basis was Elaine, my freaking foster-sister, and it's not like I could start dating her.
But Justin was convinced, and that meant that I was stuck here for who knows how long. Not learning any magic. And if I didn't play along, I risked getting tossed back into the system, no family, nobody to teach my to use my gifts, nobody to look out for me... I shuddered. I couldn't let that happen.
Well, these guys were supposed to be professionals. Maybe Justin might have the wrong idea, but the people here, they'd know I wasn't... like that. Maybe Justin would believe them, and I could go home, get back to working on my shield spells with Elaine.
Half an hour later, I wasn't so optimistic. I met the program director, a woman named Mary who's personality was as plastic as her face. I told her that I wasn't gay. She told me that admitting I had a problem was the first step. I met her assistant, Mike, apparently a former homosexual. After he interrogated me about my supposed 'unnatural desires,' I wasn't so sure about the 'former' bit.
Then they made me change into this... grey... thing. Kind of like a hospital gown. It didn't even close in back. What the hell they were doing putting me in something that didn't cover my butt and then throw me in with a bunch of gay guys, I don't know. I tied it together as well as I could. I would apparently earn the right to wear real clothing when I 'admitted' to my 'sickness.'
I was pretty sure I wouldn't be allowed to wear my wizard robe, though. They'd probably think it was a dress.
They had another inmate of the camp, a guy named Jeff who seemed to be a living fulfillment of gay stereotype, show me around and tell me about what we'd be doing all day. It sounded like a bunch of gobbeldygook to me- this kind of therapy, that kind of therapy. At least there was some free time I could use to study.
"And here's where we sleep!" Jeff said cheerfully as he opened a door painted in that ubiquitous shade of blue in keeping with Mary's bizare color-coding fetish. The dormitory was also blue. Blue walls, blue carpet, blue ceiling, blue beds. With wide eyes, he said, in a stage whisper, "Remember: no inappropriate behavior allowed."
"Uh..." I said.
"He means no fucking," said a bored voice from one of the beds. Well, from a guy sprawled across on one of the beds, but I hadn't noticed him at first, what with his clothes being exactly the same shade as the bedspread. He was a classically handsome kind of guy- dark brown hair, strong but refined jawline, and the sort of muscles you get from playing a sport or doing manual labor rather than spending hours in the weight room. He looked about nineteen or twenty. He was reading a book entitled Macroeconomics: A Global Perspective, and next to him were a few more thick, heavy textbooks.
"Wasn't planning on it," I said.
The guy looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. "Too bad," he said.
Jeff glared at him and hustled me out again. I was kind of uncomfortably aware of the other guy's eyes on my imperfectly covered back. "Sorry," Jeff said once the door was closed. "John has... an attitude problem. I don't think he's trying."
"Gee, really?" I said.
"Anyway," Jeff said, "Sooo, there's five steps to the program, ok? The first step is admitting you have a problem."
"Great," I said. "I don't. I'm straight. Can I go home now?"
"Oh, honey," Jeff said, shaking his head as he led me back to the main room, "we all think that at first."
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)also! The only girl I actually talked to on a regular basis was Elaine, my freaking foster-sister, and it's not like I could start dating her
remarkably refreshing!
and Well, from a guy sprawled across on one of the beds, but I hadn't noticed him at first, what with his clothes being exactly the same shade as the bedspread. He was a classically handsome kind of guy- dark brown hair, strong but refined jawline, and the sort of muscles you get from playing a sport or doing manual labor rather than spending hours in the weight room. He looked about nineteen or twenty.
Oh Harry. The best part, of course, being how much it parallels the cateloge Harry went through when first meeting John in Storm Front-- and almost every introduction we get to him in subsequent books. What's he wearing (or not wearing). Oh hey he's handsome: lemme tell you how.
\o/ fic!
OP
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)Was.
Asinine.
We sat in a circle in our chairs. And then everyone went around in a circle introducing themselves. Who they were, some random fact about themselves, and then the words, "I'm a homosexual."
Steve was a computer programmer and he was a homosexual. Emma played the violin and she was a homosexual. Jeff was a fucking ridiculous stereotype and he was, gasp, a homosexual.
Andi was... Andi was interesting. Andi was, by what I could tell from her aura- not that I had much practice at reading people's auras- a little bit magically sensitive. Probably not a wizard like me, but I made a mental note to check her out. No, not like that. Well, okay, yes like that, my god, those legs, but that didn't matter, because she liked nature and she was a homosexual. What I mean was, I figured I should see whether she had some magic skills or something.
Speaking of checking out, the next girl was interesting too, though not in the magical sort of way. "I'm Murphy," she said, her voice practically seething with rage. Mary gave her a reproving look, and Murphy rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm Karrin. I just earned my second-rank black belt in Aikido. And," she gritted her teeth, "I'm a homosexual." She sat back down, arms folded, glaring at the wall. I didn't blame her. It was a really hideous wall.
Murphy was damn pretty. She was tiny- she might not even hit five feet- and her skirt and the short sleeves of her pepto-bismol pink blouse showed off a physique that was all wiry muscle. Her blond hair, cut into a short pixie cut, framed her face, which was... really nice. Cute little button nose, bright blue eyes, and take-no-shit attitude added up to a few hundred points in the the "What the hell am I doing here" column. Too bad she probably wouldn't be interested.
Well, okay, that's what they were trying to fix, wasn't it?
Ah, who was I kidding? Even if she was straight as an arrow, who would be interested in a guy who looks like me?
In one of life's little ironies, the answer to that question came immediately. The guy I'd run into in the dormitory was next. "I'm John," he said. "I assist my uncle in the management of his many business interests." He let his eyes slide over me again, up and down, not bothering to disguise it the least. "I'm a homosexual," he said blandly, with a slight, challenging smile.
I have to admit, as uncomfortable as it was to be on the recieving end of such interest, it was also kind of... nice. Reassuring. At least somebody thought I was hot, even if he was a bit too, you know, male for my taste.
The introductions continued, and I admit I spaced out a bit until they got to- okay, how had I missed Meryl? Jeez. Meryl's aura made Andi's aura look completely normal. Couldn't tell what she was, but mundane wasn't it. She was big- tall, muscled, heavyset, with hair a weird brownish-green color that couldn't have been natural and yet nobody in their right mind would choose on purpose. Another one to watch out for, even if she wasn't as asthetically pleasing.
Soon everyone but me had said their bit, and there was a slightly awkward silence.
"Now," Mary said, "Harry, it's time for your first disclosure."
"Oookay," I said. "And that would be?"
"Well, why don't you tell us about the first time you thought that you might be gay?" Mary smiled at me, a nice, sweet, and utterly fake smile.
"Um... I'm not?" I tried.
She gave me a pitying look.
"Seriously, I don't belong here," I said. "I'm not gay. I'm not attracted to guys. Stars and stones, I've probably forgotten half of everybody's names here because I was too distracted by Murphy's legs!"
"What?" Murphy said, getting halfway up from her seat before Andi pulled her back down. She sounded seriously pissed off. Whoops. Way to go, Harry. Go directly to pissing off the angry lesbian who can probably break you in half.
Mary nodded. "I see," she said. "Now, Harry, it's very common to start from a place of denial. What you need to do to see the truth is look at your life with fresh eyes. Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
"Well, no," I said. "I don't really have time for one."
There were some knowing nods around the circle. I glared at them.
"According to-" Mary consulted some papers "Elaine, is it?"
"My sister," I said, frowning. Had Elaine said something that had gotten me into this mess?
Mary frowned. "Your guardian said- well, nevermind that. According to Elaine, you've expressed some strong opinions on the looks of certain male classmates of yours."
"I can't have opinions? It's just... you know." I shrugged. "You can tell if a guy is hot or not without wanting to sleep with him, right?" My eyes slid involuntarily over to John. He didn't smirk, quite- it was more dignified than that. More of a slight, 'oh, really?' smile. I tore my eyes away. "Hell's bells," I said. "Did I really get thrown in here because I talk to my sister about the guys she's interested in?" Not that she had any more opportunity of getting a boyfriend than I had of getting a girlfriend, but still.
"You have enormous posters of Harrison Ford in your bedroom," Mary said.
"Excuse me," I said, "I wasn't aware that liking Star Wars and Indiana Jones made me gay." Not being able to watch those movies over and over was, I swear, one of the biggest downsides to being a wizard. "Is it abnormal to think Han Solo is awesome?"
"And," Mary said, "you keep pestering your guardian to get you a cat."
I stared at her. "You've got to be joking. You think. That I'm gay. Because I like cats." It took every bit of will I had- hell, every bit of Will- not to make a pussy joke. But I was good. All those lessons in self-control? Totally worth it.
"Harry," Andi said timidly. "I... look, sometimes it's difficult to know what normal is."
"Tell me about it," I muttered. Normal wasn't something I was ever going to be. Of course, if I was reading her aura right, Andi wasn't exactly normal either.
"It's just..." She twisted her hands together. "People don't talk about this sort of thing. It's easy to think that... you know, the way you look at girls- well, guys, for you- isn't sexual, because you're still learning what sexual is."
"Um, I know what sexual is," I said. "It's the way I look at" your legs, no, no, stop it Harry, stop with the foot-in-mouth disease "girls."
"And when you think a guy is hot," someone said, "that's not sexual because?"
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. Because I'm straight. Circular logic, right. Circular logic is bad. Okay. Fine. I could figure out the real answer, the answer that explained how I knew I was straight. And once I found that answer, I could go home. I took a deep, calming breath and closed my eyes.
I liked looking at women's bodies. That much, I had no doubt about. And, okay, it's not like it was a hardship to look at men's bodies either, aside from the seething jealousy about guys with more muscle than I could ever hope to have on my own scrawny frame. But that's just it. When I stared at the abs of those underwear models in the ads in the newspaper, I wasn't thinking, gee, I want to fuck that guy, I was thinking I want to look like that, if I was thinking at all.
And, I mean, okay, sometimes I'd get an erection. But given that for awhile I got hard every time I channeled fire, before I'd figured out how to access that magic without screwing with my circulatory system, it was pretty easy to dismiss the random erections I got from time to time. (Like right now, because the days was just going that well.) Take a cold shower (as if there were any other kind), move on.
So. The way I could tell that looking at girls was sexual and looking at boys wasn't, was that... Okay. I got crushes on girls sometimes. Justin discouraged it, but it's not like he could control what I was thinking. And sometimes, even though I knew it was useless, I'd let just that little bit of hope flourish, that this time she'd reciprocate, maybe this time the girl would judge me worthy of her love. And yeah, I'd think about having sex with whatever girl I was being unrealistic about, but that wasn't the point, the point was that...
Was that a girl's approval was a sign I was worthwhile.
With much trepidation, I considered the guys I had... admired, over the past couple years. Handsome, popular, smart, most of them wouldn't have a thing to do with me of course, but sometimes I thought, if I could just be their friend, that would...
I did not like where this was going.
Okay. Simple test. I would think of a guy, I would think of having sex with that guy, it would seem wrong or disgusting or even just boring, and that would be that.
I formed the vision in my mind, being as careful about details as if it was a magical working. Me, some guy- hell, why not make it Han Solo? If I didn't want to screw Han Solo, that would be positive evidence I was straight- So. Han Solo's hand on my...
Oh god.
"Stars and stones," I said weakly, as I opened my eyes "I'm a homosexual."
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)LOL. Oh, Harry.
(Though Han Solo = ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTANDABLE as he is awesome and amazing. Erm. )
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)Authornon
(Anonymous) - 2011-03-24 23:41 (UTC) - ExpandRe: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)But I'm a Wizard FILL 3/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-25 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)"Okay, what," I said, "so I'm halfway normal or something? Great."
"I guess you'll have an easier time than the rest of us," Meryl said, listlessly poking her broccoli with her spoon.
"Small consolation," I muttered. "I was fine before I got here." I glared at Andi. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be straight."
Andi flinched- I realized, too late, that I'd been flinging bits of energy around, not enough for most people to notice, but, well. Andi was sensitive. Magically speaking. And also emotionally speaking, judging from her anguished look. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said. "But... you know... it probably would have come up eventually. Isn't it better that it happen here, where you can work through it?"
"No! Yes! I don't know!" I stabbed at my food angrily, and then worked on reigning in the excessive energy. Control. Right.
I wished I could talk to Elaine. Even if getting me sent here was partially her fault- she must have thought she was helping. And maybe Andi was right, maybe it was better this way. But here I was, part of my whole self-image turned on it's head, and I was supposed to talk about it with a bunch of strangers.
I didn't want to talk about it with a bunch of strangers. I wanted to talk about it with Elaine.
After dinner, we were supposed to watch some sort of film that supposedly illustrated healthy heterosexual relationships, and actually illustrated the hazards of being too cheap to hire real actors. Fortunately for us, about ten minutes in the film projector mysteriously broke down.
Well, everyone else thought it was mysterious.
In the free time before lights out that followed, I started writing a letter to Elaine. I was about three lines in before I was interrupted.
"Who are you writing to?" Jeff asked, peering over my shoulder.
"My sister," I said, turning away so he couldn't read what I was writing.
"Oh," he said. "Um... you probably shouldn't call Mary a bitch?"
"Why the hell not?" I asked. "She is one." Okay, she was trying to help me, but still. That didn't mean I had to like her.
"Because she reads all of our mail, incoming and outgoing." John said. He was studying again. Some book about business logistics.
"Oh," I said. I should have guessed, really. And now that I thought about it, Justin would probably read anything I sent to Elaine too. I mean, sure, that was his right, but... it meant I couldn't be honest. Not that I was in the habit of lying to Justin, but there was a lot of stuff I wanted to tell Elaine that I would just feel weird if I knew Justin knew. I didn't want Justin to know when I felt weak, or confused. He wouldn't understand. He'd tell me to toughen up, as if I wasn't trying. Elaine understood that sometimes I just needed to- fine. Sometimes I needed to whine a bit before solving my problems. It didn't mean they didn't get solved, it didn't mean I needed help, I just wanted to vent a bit.
I sighed and crumpled up the paper. I palmed it out of sight from everyone else- a trick I learned from my real father, when I was a little kid- and channeled some of the frustration I felt into it, letting my anger burn the paper to ash. I wiped my hand off discreetly on the bedsheets and breathed a little easier. Literally burning off my excess emotions was a habit I'd picked up a few months ago.
I looked up to find John staring at me intently. Not wide-eyes "what the hell?" staring, but a sort of squinted "I know something is up but I don't know what" staring. Damn. I'd have to be more careful. "What?" I said- okay, maybe sort of snarled- at him.
He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, and didn't look up from his book until lights out.
But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-25 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)John's bed was empty.
This was not my problem, I told myself. If John wanted to break curfew and sneak out of bed, well, that was his business. Hell, he was probably just in the bathroom or something. Except that the bathroom was right there, and there weren't any sounds coming from it.
I rolled over. This wasn't my problem. I was going back to sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing on the porch outside the boy's dormitory with some salt packets I'd swiped at dinner, my pentacle, and a dirty pair of John's underwear. I was barefoot and in my pajamas (provided by True Directions and therefore blue), but that was actually pretty comfy in the mild summer night air.
Yeah, yeah, less than twelve hours since I'd figured out I was... like that... and I was already an underwear-stealing pervert. So sue me. I tried for some of his hair, but his comb was clean. Underwear it would have to be.
While keeping alert for any sounds of people approaching, I poured out a circle of salt on the porch, stepped inside, and closed it with an application of Will. I took a minute or two just to clear my thoughts and gather the power I needed. I tied the underwear around my mother's pentacle and held it up on it's chain in front of me. Then I concentrated as Justin had taught me, murmured a few words of Latin, and broke the circle.
My makeshift pendulum swung sharply off to the east. I quickly swept the salt off the porch, and walked quickly and silently through the grass. The tracking spell led me off the property, into some nearby woods. I was glad I was used to walking in the woods barefoot, from some of the elemental exercises Justin had set me to doing- doing so in the dark unpracticed could have gotten uncomfortable.
It didn't take too long before I found him. The woods were awfully convenient; they let me hide and watch him unobserved.
He was also in his pajamas, though he'd put on some sort of boots. He was talking to another man, built rather like a small mountain. The other man handed John a black backpack. They talked a little more, then John slung the backpack on- I guessed it was pretty heavy, judging from how it moved- and headed... straight towards me.
Shit.
He didn't look like he saw me, though, more like he was just coming back the way he came. But there was a decent chance he'd see me hiding in the bushes, what with the stupid bright blue pajamas.
I'm bad at veils. Terrible, more like. Oh, I can hide things, but I hide them under a big brown smudge that pretty much screams "SOMETHING HIDDEN HERE." Still, it was dark, the trees were thick... I closed my eyes and concentrated. Then opened them. Yep, felt like I was standing in the middle of a giant beer bottle. I squinted out, but I couldn't really see a thing.
I heard rustling of leaves as John trudged by me in his big boots- bare feet would never make so much noise, I thought smugly- then an agonizing pause, terrifyingly close to me. I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity and was probably at least fifteen seconds, and then he moved on, more slowly.
I counted to five hundred in my head, slowly, and then dropped the veil. Even as little as a year ago that, on top of the tracking spell, would have left me worn out, but I actually felt fine. Maybe not like I wanted to do that again, but still. I was getting better. Woo.
I walked back to the house, and managed to slip into the boy's dorm without being seen.
He was kneeling by his bed, re-arranging the contents of his suitcase. I could see the backpack next to him, empty.
"Hey," I said, as casually as I could. "What are you doing?"
He pushed his bag under the bed again and stood up. "I might ask the same of you," he said.
I shrugged. "Bathroom."
He glanced pointedly at the boy's bathroom, en-suite with the bedroom. "Really now."
Yeah, I really should have had a better lie ready. I took what I hoped was a confident step forward. "Does it matter where I was?"
He was looking at me a bit oddly. "No, I suppose it doesn't."
"Great," I said. "I'm glad we've had this chat. I'm going back to bed."
"Wait," he said, closing the distance between us in a few brief strides.
He was standing two, maybe three feet away. "What?" I said, trying to make it clear that I didn't appreciate my personal space being violated.
"You've got leaves in your hair," he said, reaching for my head.
I froze. My heart started beating wildly and adrenaline surged in fight-or-flight response as he combed his fingers through my hair. I concentrated on my breath, a normal calming exercise.
"There," he said quietly, holding the leaves out for my inspection. He met my eyes, and I blinked once, but didn't remember to look away in time to prevent the soulgaze from starting.
I'd only ever soulgazed before with Elaine. I had seen her as the woman she was destined to become, a woman of grace and power. I had seen the wisdom and bravery she would come to have as she grew up. She was the ocean, vast and deep, shifting and swirling while remaining at the core the same.
I saw grace and power and wisdom and bravery in John too, but he wasn't anything like the the ocean. His mind was cool, and meticulously organized, and thrumming with the coiled tension of a predator. I felt his determination, sharp and relentless, to achieve his goals. He strategized, he plotted, he had plans and contingency plans mapped out for years, decades- I couldn't see their content, but I knew for a fact they were there. His life was one of waiting and watching, always, always ready to spring into action. He wasn't fearless; he felt fear, dispassionately evaluated it, and then put it aside. He had been raised as a soldier, a killer, and yes, he had killed before, feeling and then putting aside his regret- not guilt, not remorse, just quiet regret. His anger was a slow-burning fury, fed by contempt for those who took pleasure in cruelty. His own greatest pleasures came from pride, from a job well-executed, from doing things that he did well.
He had also put aside his shame at the events that led to him coming here. He wasn't ashamed about his sexual desires. He was ashamed that he had been careless. Shame that he had been caught, that he had taken a foolish risk for too small of a payoff. And he had taken that shame, and had fed it into his determination: he would make up for his mistake, he would correct the setbacks this had thrown into his plans.
And then, hidden away in a dark corner of his mind, was doubt. Doubt of his goals. A small, secret desire to just chuck everything aside and- and do what? He didn't know. He was a man who had all of his will bent to a goal because he didn't know what else to want.
And that frightened him.
The soulgaze ended. His eyes were wide in shock, but it took only a moment for him to collect himself again. "What-" his voice quavered, and then I could see himself clamping down, recovering his self-control. "What was that?"
"Soulgaze," I said, too off-balance to even think of a lie.
"And that's..."
"What it sounds like," I said. "It- goes both ways. Sorry. It- it happens if I look into someone's eyes too long."
"Ah," he said, instantly looking elsewhere.
"Just once," I added. "Can't happen again."
At the sound of heavy footsteps outside, we exchanged a very brief glance, and wasting no time, each dove into our own bed. We were barely in time; the door opened, and I could hear someone standing in the doorway. And then the door closed, and the footsteps retreated.
I fell asleep again wondering what John had seen in my eyes.
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-25 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-25 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-25 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)Not that, you know, having the underwear in his pocket is much better!
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) - 2011-03-25 22:58 (UTC) - ExpandRe: But I'm a Wizard FILL 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-26 03:42 am (UTC)(link)Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-26 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)I wanted to be getting rid of that sort of feeling, not encouraging it. So I would be trying to avoid John even if I wasn't scared to death of him now. It wasn't just that I was unnerved to be around someone- someone only a few years older than me- who could kill dispassionately. I was scared because now this guy knew what I was. And I was alone. Justin had always emphasized to Elaine and me, that as young, relatively untrained magic users, we were in danger. Predators were everywhere, people who would seek to take advantage of us, to use us. And here I'd gone and let some... some damn scary man take a look into my soul. Even if that peek at me didn't show him that I was a wizard, he knew that I could soulgaze. He knew that I was special. And Justin wasn't around to protect me.
I wondered if I should call home, tell Justin what happened. He'd come and get me, make sure I was safe. Or would he? I'd already disappointed him by turning out broken like this. Compound that with admitting a stupid mistake like letting someone soulgaze me, and maybe he'd make good on his threats to turn me out on the street.
No, I'd have to deal with this alone. I wasn't completely helpless. Whatever else John could do, whatever he'd done, he wasn't a wizard. I had that advantage over him.
But I still didn't feel like hanging around with him, so I sat at the other table during breakfast, and on the other side of the room during our morning orientation. He didn't seem to be trying to talk to me, so that made things nice and easy.
My luck ran out about halfway through the morning.
I froze as John sat down on the grass next to me. "That's harder than it looks," he said contemplatively. This morning's therapeutic activity was, for us boys, chopping firewood. John had done pretty well. I was pretty sure he hadn't done it before, but he caught on quick, and had the strength for it. "You made it look easy," he continued.
I grunted dismissively. "Practice. Justin heats the house with wood. My job to chop it." As far as chores went, it wasn't too bad. Physically demanding, sure, but satisfying. It would have been more satisfying if I had any muscle to show for it. "So I guess if splitting logs makes you straight, maybe that's why I'm less gay than the other guys here?"
John didn't say anything.
"But," I said, thinking aloud, "that's from four winters worth of firewood. What can we really do in one month?"
John still didn't say anything.
Well, that was good, I reminded myself. I didn't want to be talking to him.
After a few more minutes of silence and watching the other guys attempt and fail to actually hit the wood with the ax, I risked a glance at John.
He was looking right at me, staring at me like I was some sort of puzzle he was trying to figure out. "You really believe this will work, don't you."
"Why wouldn't it?" I asked. "Look, just because you don't want to change, doesn't mean-"
I broke off when I saw Steve approaching, Mike having moved on to other pupils.
John smiled. "Good morning, Steve," he said genially.
Steve nodded at him. "Hey. So, um. Did you get the stuff?"
"Of course," John said, reaching into his pocket. He removed a tin of Altoids and opened it for Steve's inspection.
I couldn't quite see what was in it, but somehow I doubted it was mints.
John closed the tin, Steve nodded and looked around furtively, then handed John a small handful of bills, took the tin from him, and hurried off to go talk to one of the other guys.
I exhaled the breath I didn't even know I was holding. "That's quite a markup for some breathmints," I commented as he counted out the money.
He looked me right in the eye. His eyes, I noticed now that we were in bright sunlight, were a faded green, the color of the bills he was tucking into his pocket. "Entrepreneurship," he said blandly.
"You do that sort of thing often?"
"Not very often, no. But it's a good idea for management to take a turn on the floor from time to time."
I silently considered the implications of that statement, especially combined with what I'd seen in him last night.
"If there's anything you want..." he added.
"No," I said shortly. "I don't use drugs and I don't have any money, so don't even bother."
"I could get your letters delivered to Elaine, uncensored," he offered. "And an address for her to write back to."
"I said, I don't have any money." And he couldn't do a thing about Justin on the other end. His gaze was getting intense, like he was trying to see into my soul again. I looked away.
"I'm not after your money, Harry."
Of course he wasn't. "Then what are you after?" Maybe, if I was lucky, he was just trying to- to get into my pants or something. That, I could deal with.
"Who says I'm after anything?" he said. "Maybe I just want to do something nice for you."
"Gee, that's re-assuring," I said. "Look, John, I may have only met you yesterday, but after last night, I know you. I know you better than I know anyone but Elaine, and there is no fucking way you aren't trying to get something from me."
"About last night," John said quietly after a moment. "The- soulgaze, you called it?"
"Yeah," I said.
"It's because of- of what you are, isn't it," he said.
"I don't know what you mean," I lied.
"Magic," he said quietly. "I saw magic in you."
"Well," I spat out, "aren't you just the sweetest romantic, then." Shaking, I stood up. "Fuck off, John. You don't have anything I want, and I won't get caught up in your schemes or plans."
With that, I stalked back to the others, to beg another turn with the ax.
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-27 06:11 am (UTC)(link)I especially loved the part where Harry's talking about Justin, and how well the manipulative/controlling relationship comes through without Harry even realizing it. Well done!
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-27 11:26 am (UTC)(link)I am coming to the strong realization that this is going to be a lot, um, darker than the movie it was inspired by. Because of these poor boys didn't have problems far, far worse than parents who disapprove of their sexual orientation, they wouldn't be our Harry and John, would they. And, you know, there's just not going to be an epilogue with Justin joining PFLAG.
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-04-03 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)I love these versions of Harry and John. Dialogues are perfect, Harry's self-illusion is soo Harry.
The whole scene of soulgazing, starting with the leaves (John, you are such a charmer!), was simply beautiful: full of tension, of the first glimpse of future possibilities - for both of them, ahh.
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
I love these versions of Harry and John. Dialogues are perfect, Harry's self-illusion is soo Harry.
The whole scene of soulgazing, starting with the leaves (John, you are such a charmer!), was simply beautiful: full of tension, of the first glimpse of future possibilities - for both of them, ahh.
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-04-03 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
Re: But I'm a Wizard FILL 5/?
(Anonymous) 2011-04-04 02:01 am (UTC)(link)For people who stumble across this while browsing round 2, fic is now updating on the overflow post:
http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/1001.html?thread=77801#cmt77801