After Class

[John Smith]

John was still brimming with excitement after the lesson he'd just taught on the scientific method and developing a strong hypothesis. He'd given all of the students bags of uncooked spaghetti and then asked them to come up with a hypothesis about the spaghetti--- a testable one to use for a project. In the beginning they'd looked at him like he was mad... well, he was a little bit mad, but they already knew that!--- and by the end of the class period they'd all discovered that the pasta always broke into three pieces, and each group had it's own hypothesis. It was incredible how much the human mind was capable of. Students always sold themselves short. Well, he wasn't going to let them get through his class without realizing their own potential!

He said good bye to each student individually as they filed out of the classroom. Several students stayed back a little longer to discuss their findings in excited tones. That was brilliant! He loved it when his students had more to say after class, when they're enthusiasm for physics (which many of them had discovered in his class) spilled over into their free time. It made him feel like he was really accomplishing something and never ceased to put a huge grin on his face.

The last of the students left, after one of the cleverest girls asked to borrow one of John's classroom copies of the Feynman Lectures. Feynman was the one who gave him the idea for the spaghetti game, anyway. What an inspiration that man was! It was a pity he was so long before John's time, he would have loved to meet him in person... though after reading all of his books and biographies it almost felt as though he did know Richard Feynman.

He shut the door and turned back into his empty classroom. Except it wasn't empty.

"Oh! Hello, there!" John said, with a smile.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

“Hia John.” Victor replied after he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on. It wasn’t uncommon to see Victor lurking around in the back of the classroom whenever John would have a lesson. Although he’d use the opportunity to stick around for his physics periods when John would need his assistance, he wasn’t ashamed to just waltz right in five minutes before class whenever he wanted and hang out in the back, to observe what experiments the kids would be doing that day. Then again, if he had to be honest, he wasn’t really there to watch the kids more than he was there to see John at work.

John was the most fun and kooky person he had ever met and he was a blast to be around. Not most teachers had the talent to make their class as fun and engaging as him – especially with a subject as intimidating and challenging as physics. Vic would even catch himself being engaged with what everyone was learning. Plus, John wasn’t that bad on the eyes, but that was a private matter Vic liked to keep for himself.

He walked closer to John and started cleaning a nearby table, picking up the extra bags and broken spaghetti strands the students had left behind. “So that’s why you had all that spaghetti. I was gonna ask beforehand but I figured you had your reasons. Interesting stuff. You even made me wanna try it out.” He demonstrated by finding an unbroken strand of pasta, grinning childishly at it, and snapping it into threes – one piece accidently ricocheting off his nose before falling to the ground. After quickly closing his eyes and jolting his head back out of instinct, he paused, blinked, and gave a small laugh. “Well, maybe I deserved that.” He bent down on one knee to pick up the splinters of the pasta, still feeling like a giddy child about the whole little experience. “No less interesting. Where do you find these activities anyways? Let alone find time to prepare for them.”

[John Smith]

“Hia John.”

"Hello, Victor!" John said, fidgeting excitedly. He had to run over to his desk and began busying himself by straightening out papers. He only now noticed the bits of spaghetti that were covering his desk completely. He smiled fondly at the bits of spaghetti. It was a mess, but it was proof that someone was learning something. He lifted up his book of lesson plans and shook out the loose bits of spaghetti.

He loved it when Victor stayed after class. He'd been doing it a lot lately, and John always looked forward to seeing him as he lingered a moment longer than the students. It was usually just a moment, but it made John's day a million times better anyway. Secretly, he'd been allowing his mind to linger on their little meetings even hours after they'd occurred. It was silly, really. He knew that Victor was way out of his league... John didn't even have a league, he didn't even play the game.

He glanced up as Victor epic-failed with a strand of spaghetti. He couldn't keep back a little giggle at that one.

"...Where do you find these activities anyways? Let alone find time to prepare for them.”

"I get a lot of it from Feynman." John said, placing his hand on another stack of the Feynman lectures--- it was the only "text book" he ever had the students use in class, and they only had to check them out if they wanted to. He encouraged them to take a look at those lectures if they were interested in anything physics related. "Good old Feynman." He said, affectionately. "He conducted some spaghetti experiments of his own. I owe him everything. Well, not everything, but he's the one who finally convinced me to go into physics. I wanted to be an astronomer at first, because my dad was a physicist. But, Feynman told me differently. Of course, he'd been dead long before I was born, but he's alive in his lectures. Was alive, anyway." He realized that he was babbling on again, and had to turn away from Victor to start writing out the lesson plan for tomorrow on the board. "And, then rest just comes from life. You can find physics in everything if you're looking for it. Everything takes on a new dimension if you look at it like a physicist. Time, for example. You know, time travel isn't such an unlikely concept when you look at relativity. There are these CTCs... closed timelike curves. And, they are theoretically possible. And, if they do exist, this seems like a long shot, but if you really think about it isn't life itself a bit of a long shot?--- then you could theoretically travel backwards in time."

His father had always dismissed all this time travel "nonsense", but as a boy who was fascinated by both history and physics, John had always taken a keen interest in the possibility of time travel. He'd read extensively on general relativity as a child and even today couldn't convince himself that time travel was impossible. Whenever he tried to discuss time travel with his father as a boy, his father would roll his eyes and ask "Then where are all of the time travellers, eh? Wouldn't we have noticed by now if time travellers from the future were standing among us?"

But, if they were from a future where time travel was possible, wouldn't they be clever enough to simply disguise themselves as people of whatever time they travelled to? It seemed silly that such advanced peoples would allow their time travelling to be ruined by the butterfly effect--- people in their past catching wind of time travel and changing the course of history, maybe even eliminating the time travellers by unwittingly changing the course of events that would lead up to their existence. But, whenever he asked to discuss it further, his father would have none of it. "Go read your books. Do not pester me with such ridiculous questions."

But, he never gave up hope. He turned back to Victor now, wondering if he thought John was mad too.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

After Victor was done cleaning up he eyed the stack of lectures on John’s desk and threw away the bags of spaghetti in a nearby bin, whipping any dust and bits of broken pasta from his hands onto his working jeans. “Feynman, eh?” he said as he made his was towards John’s desk, reaching over and taking one of the lectures while John’s back was turned. He began to lightly skim the lecture until John started to speak again.

"And, then rest just comes from life. You can find physics in everything if you're looking for it.”

Victor smiled as he continued to talk. No doubt it was John’s passion that Vic found to be the most captivating. Most people spend all their lives trying to find something that they love to do and whenever you meet someone who’s actually found what it is and they talk so enthusiastically about it – whether it be as complicated as relativity or as carefree as, well, music – it’s inspiring and amazing to witness.

“Fascinating.” Victor remarked. “I can’t count how many times I’ve wanted to travel back in time myself.” He placed the lecture back down on the desk, trying not to think too much of it and stayed focused on the topic at hand. “But I get you. It’s strange how the simplest of things can be much more complex than you think. ” God, the human brain was amazing, Victor thought.

In reality, it’s even more amazing to think that any of this complicated information can stick in someone’s head at all. It’s like you have to have a mind of a genius to even grasp the basics of something as complicated as time travel, let alone talk casually about it.

There was suddenly a notable quietness in the room and it took Victor a minute to figure out why.

“… Huh. I said all of that last part out loud, didn’t I?” He casually stated. He put a hand on his chin and looked down in puzzlement. “Hmm. That’s odd. That rarely happens unless I’m tired.” Now that he thought about it, coffee did sound very enticing, and he contemplated about going to the nearest coffee shop after work. “Well, it’s not like it was all a lie.” He finally said with a dismissive wave. “My normal chats usually involve talking about an obscure bands and what things I need to fix or clean. It’s always a nice change whenever ‘time travel’ is the topic of the day.”

[John Smith]

“My normal chats usually involve talking about an obscure bands and what things I need to fix or clean. It’s always a nice change whenever ‘time travel’ is the topic of the day.”

John beamed at Victor, relieved that he wasn't put off by his strange interests. Most people tuned out the moment you said "time travel" and just assumed you were a loony just waiting to share tips on making more effective tin-foil hats. He liked having Victor around, more than he would care to admit to himself. There was a distinct lack of meaningful friendships in John's life--- well, maybe saying it that way went a little too far--- he had plenty of friends. He liked to think of all of his students as his friends first and students second. He didn't really think of himself as a teacher so much as a student himself. Why stop learning once you were in a position of power concerning someone else's eduction? Why not teach and be taught? He learned new things from his students every day. As far as he was concerned they were his equals.

But, students came and went. He was just one class out of many they had every day. They would graduate and go on to new things, and he felt their loss every time they grew up and left. It wasn't that he felt abandoned by them or anything--- he loved watching them grow up and bloom into full fledged human beings before his very eyes. He loved seeing them discover who they were and form their own views of the world. Yes, teacher student friendships could be incredibly fulfilling. But, sometimes John longed for a companion. Someone who was his own age, or there about. Someone to talk to about things you couldn't discuss with students. For students you had to maintain some illusion of authority, and that meant that there were certain things you couldn't let them see in you; fear, doubt, anger. If you showed that sort of weakness in front of teenagers you took away one of the illusions that they depended upon. The world was a scary and quickly changing place for teenagers, especially for those with mental health issues and rocky pasts like the students of St. Helena's, and they needed adults to rely on; adults who wouldn't abandon them, that could offer some much needed stability.

As much as John loved people, he couldn't seem to escape his loneliness. He needed a friend.

Was Victor his friend? They seemed to be spending more time together. They talked, though it was mostly about practical matters. And, most of the time John found himself doing all the talking, unable to shut himself up. He'd fallen back into his thoughts by the time he was done writing on the board. When he turned around, Victor was still there, standing by his desk now. John smiled, a little nervously glancing into Victor's eyes before looking back down at his books. He wished he had it in him to ask Victor if he wanted to grab some coffee. Physics... he could do, socializing with adults... he could not. He began gathering up the bits of spaghetti, sweeping them into the bin with a sheet of paper. He wished he knew what to say.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

Victor broke the bit of silence that had fallen between them with a yawn. Yep, he was definitely tired. As he looked back at John he noticed that he seemed to have receded back into his mind and had lost his normal chatting spirit. Vic wasn’t able to tell if he was either thinking about something deeply or was dozing out from the weary day. He considered maybe leaving then and there, not wanting John to feel obligated to keep talking if he didn’t want to and leave him to his work. Maybe after they’d both have something to reenergize them then they could continue talk–

Well now, that was a thought.

“Say.” Victor chirped, “I’ve got a proposition for you.” He crossed his arms, almost proud of the idea yet still hoping that it would actually go through. “What say you and I go out for some coffee? You can tell me more about your ideas and theories on time travel if you want, and maybe I’ll find something equally as remarkable so I can compete with your brilliant noggin. 'Dunno how, but I’m sure I'll eventually find a way to bend whatever conversation we’ll have. My treat.”

He had never realized it until then, but through all the time he had known John they had not once spent time together outside of work. It was almost unforgivable that neither of them had brought up the possibility before. They would always just chat for a little while either in the halls or in the classroom before one or the other had to be on their way.

“Unless there’s anything you have to do later on,” he added. “Then we can always save it for another time.” He really did hope he wasn’t pulling John away from any prior engagements just so Vic can continue listening to his ravings, though he hope John would decide to tag along regardless. Maybe it was kind of selfish to hope for such a thing, but he would try to make it up by trying to swing the discussion towards work at some point. Maybe. He’d have to see.

[John Smith]

“What say you and I go out for some coffee?”

The shock caused John to drop the spaghetti he was holding. It was just a friendly invitation, but John hadn't even gotten one of those since... now that was a depressing thought, since he'd first come to St. Helena's! He supposed that this must have something to do with the way he tended to bore people his age with his excited talk about science and history and his wonderful students. Talking about how great your students were was probably the teaching equivalent to talking being that type of parent who was always bragging about their kids. No one could stand them. Other teachers usually preferred to gossip about the worst of their students. It was terrible, unprofessional, and a little bit shocking when you first hear it, but after teaching for as long as John had, you came to realize that that sort of talk was pretty much universal in the world of teaching. Now, granted, the teachers that John had first encountered when he first began helping out around St. Helena's were mostly retired by now, and he probably would have found the new, younger stock of teachers they had now would be radically different from the tired 'one step away from retirement' teachers he had dealt with before. But, John had never been particularly good at talking to other teachers, or counsellors for that matter. Maybe that was why Victor was so refreshing.

"Coffee?" It took a moment for the idea to completely register in his mind. "Oh! That sounds lovely! Let me just--- here, could you hold this for a moment?" Without waiting for an answer he handed Victor a stack of the Feynman Lectures. He swept the spaghetti paper over his desk and cleared the rest of the pasta into the bin, before he took the books back from Victor. "Thank you, sorry about that. Erm... where were we? Oh, yes! Would you like to drive, or would you prefer to walk? I've just got my bike with me at the moment, so if you drove I could take that, or go with you if you had room, if it wouldn't be inconvenient. Or we could walk? I could do with some air." John knew that many of the staff favoured cars as their main mode of transportation, even when they were only going around the neighbourhood. John had a bicycle that he liked using, which he had leaning against a book shelf in the back of the classroom at that moment. The Starbucks was within walking distance, and the fresh air would do John good.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

“Coffee?”

“Or, well, tea if you want,” he replied, lightly trying to persuade him. “Whatever type of drink you wanna ha–”

Without warning a stack of books were practically shoved into his hands and John began to sweep up his desk. Victor looked down at the moderate stack he was suddenly holding and smiled. He took that as a ‘yes.’

“I actually did bring my car to work today.” He said after he handed back the stack to John. Since everything in the town was so nearby he would mostly walk everywhere or use public transportation whenever he wanted to go somewhere farther away, but he did own a car that he would drive only if he had been neglecting it for a long period of time or if he wasn’t in the mood for walking and wanted to spoil himself. “I think there’s enough room for you and I. Maybe for the bike too, but you might have to help me put the backseats down.” He glanced over at the bike in question to determine the size. It wasn’t huge but it looked like it would occupy a large amount of the space in the back of his car. Not that he would mind.

He patted his pockets to see if he had everything. Keys, wallet, phone – he never brought much whenever he came work. The cleaning supplies and equipment were school property so he’d leave them back at his office. The only thing he really had to bring from his house was his simple uniform and a change of clothes just in case his job for the day required him to get dirtier than usual.

“Welp, I’m set,” he said while looking back at John. “Do you need help finishing up anything? Otherwise you can lug your bike over here and I can hold the door.” He thought about offering to help him out with his bike but figured that John could handle it on his own – it was his bike after all. Vic took a side-step toward the door and got ready to prop it open.

[John Smith]

“Do you need help finishing up anything? Otherwise you can lug your bike over here and I can hold the door.”

"Right! Good, well, I'll just grab that then..." John skipped across the room and grabbed his bike, hoping that his nervousness didn't show too plainly. It was a vain hope, of course, as every inch of his body constantly vibrated with excitement, and this had added an entirely new level to his excitement. He was practically bouncing. The bike was an old one, but a reliable one. He'd bought it from a thrift store when he first became a professor at St. Helena's. He loved thrift stores--- they were always so full of personality, and every item had it's own special history. He could practically feel all of the places the bike had been when he first bought it. It had come from Europe itself, and that further endeared it to him, though the bike was not much to look at. They were both far away from home, and the bike even seemed to echo his loneliness in it's rusted old face. He'd fixed it up so it looked almost new, but managed to retain that old foreignness about it. Now they were constant travelling companions.

John was half way through the door when he realized that he'd forgotten his coat. "Oh, just one more thing." He leaned the bike against the door frame before rushing back to his desk, nearly tripping twice on his way there, and then pulling his old tweed shooting jacket from off the back of his desk chair. He slipped into it as he walked back across the room, blushing slightly from his brilliant display of clumsiness. "Right, we're all in one piece. So... allons-y!" He flashed Victor a boyish grin. He wheeled the bike out of the door. He was temped several times to stop wheeling the bike and start riding it, but to do so would be rude. For now it felt like he was walking a particularly tall metal dog, with his bicycle at his side the way it was. It was awkward to walk with, and he felt like he was taking up too much space. But, all of that strangeness aside he was internally dancing around with joy.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

Victor held the door open to let John through, taking an interest of the bike when he wheeled it nearer. It gave Vic the idea to invest in a small bike for himself. It was much more eco-friendly, healthy for you, and didn’t cost much to keep it running or to fix if anything broke down. He watched as John ran back and practically flailed about the room before Vic looked down and took a sudden interest with the bike again, secretly suppressing a laugh and pretending he hadn’t noticed anything when John returned.

“Right, we're all in one piece. So... allons-y!”

Victor laughed warmly at the playful statement, locking and closing the door behind him and walked alongside the giddy physics teacher. They didn’t have to walk much to get to his car: A small, red 1980 Volkswagen Golf Mk1. He had gotten it from a friend - a student, actually, who had a love for cars and who had fixed and sold this particular car to Vic about five, maybe six years ago. It was used and a little beat-up on the outside with a serious need for a new paint job but the inside worked like a dream.

He had parked his car almost exactly in front of the school’s exit that day. Vic would come to work earlier than others and would park his car as close as he could to the building whenever he decided to drive it. Victor didn’t need much help taking the back seats down, though he did have to move a couple of bags and old CD cases around to make room for the bike before they rolled it in. They both went and sat into the driver’s and passengers seat respectively. “Alright then. Now we can really go.” He said as he started the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot and they went on their way.

[John Smith]

John loved beat up old cars like this one. Well, it really wasn't that old and 'beat up' made it's condition sound like a bad thing. Even 'used' didn't suit the car. 'Lived in' appealed more to John, because that's what it was. The car had seen things and been places, a bit like his bicycle, actually, and he loved that. It was more than a little bit cramped on the inside with the two of them plus the bike, and the problem was further exacerbated by the fact that John, in his extreme excitement, couldn't seem to sit still. He was like a fidgety kindergärtner, like one of those kids with undiagnosed attention problems who had been drinking sugary drinks and watching violent cartoons all day. He literally was squirming around in his seat, trying to look at everything at once in the car.

The interior was nicer than the outside, and he wanted to memorize all the little details for some reason he couldn't begin to explain to himself. It just seemed like the thing to do to keep his mind partly occupied. Anyone who didn't know John would say that coffee was the last thing that he needed right then. But, for some reason coffee seemed to calm him down rather than make him twitchy like it did some other people. Maybe too much coffee would make him nervous, but he'd been weaned of weak tea a long time ago, when he'd first come to the states, and coffee had been his beverage of choice ever since. His love of coffee wasn't completely rational. He did love the smell of it, but the taste was bitter and made all the more displeasing by the fact that he wouldn't allow himself too much sugar or cream. Sugar would make him even more hyper than he already was.

He apologized profusely as he bumped into Victor's arm for the hundredth time, and hoped that his friend wouldn't become cross with him and simply throw him out of the car for being such a nuisance. His knees were bouncing up and down in anticipation and he kept playing with his coat sleeves. Maybe this was just a product of nervousness, because he didn't usually play with his clothes. He'd been making a conscious effort not to talk to much now, and the strain of keeping back the veritable torrent of words and thoughts that were constantly going through his head was making him feel like an over-inflated balloon. He turned to say something to Victor, at last, and the car chose that moment to go over a bump, which caused him to to fall into Victor face first--- his open lips brushing his jaw bone.

His heart froze in his chest for a moment and then began pounding like he'd run a mile. "Sorry, that--- sorry! Really, sorry about that. That was completely unintentional. There was that bump in the road, and I was just going to say something, I was just going to say--- oh, no, I can't even remember what I was going to say, sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you, well, it wasn't really a kiss, so I didn't mean to bump into your face with my lips, but kissing you wasn't my intention at all... well, not that I wouldn't like kissing you, I mean, I don't know that, I'm sure you would be great at kissing, and you're very attractive but well, that wasn't what I was thinking of at all. We're just friends and everything, or at least I hope we are, friends I mean, not that I hope we don't become more than friends, as I would be opened to the idea, but no. I wasn't thinking of that at all. I think you're brilliant and want to stay friends.So... could you actually forget that that happened or that I said anything? And, I'll pretend too. If that makes you comfortable." John had worked himself up to a brilliant shade of red. Now, he sank into the seat, feeling like the biggest loser in the world. He wouldn't have been surprised if Victor had left him at the side of the road in disgust. He was anticipating it now.

[Victor David Birenbaum]

Victor hadn’t anticipated how cramped the car was going to be, not that he really cared before. In fact, the reason why he enjoyed his car so much was because it was a compact, but he never had many passengers catch a ride with him before, not to mention a passenger that he may or may not have fancied (he tried not to think about it that much) and who was as jittery as John was. It was odd seeing him in such close quarters and Victor could tell that he was trying to contain himself the best that he could. If he had thought it through better, Victor would’ve suggested they walked instead of drive so they could’ve avoided sitting far more closer to each other than John might’ve preferred, and freely strolled down the sidewalk with as much room to move around as they wanted.

John had already bumped against Victor a couple of times, which Victor paid no serious attention to since he understood that John couldn’t help it. With how he moved around and spoke with exaggerated hand gestures it would’ve been surprising if he hadn’t caused some accidental nudges here and there. It was already surprising with how little he was speaking. Victor took some side-glances at him, seeing him fidget around and his eyes shifting everywhere. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the only word Victor could think of for him.

Suddenly, there was a bump on the road and he felt John move forward. The car had jolted to the side for a millisecond – half because of the bump and half because John had startled Victor – before Vic regained control of the wheel. However, he was still in shock, the swift warmth and sensation of John’s lips grazing the outline of his jaw still present, even after John had pulled back and began releasing an onslaught of apologies.

There was a part of Victor that was relieved to here John’s voice again and he smiled a bit bashfully in spite of himself. He tried to play it off as a friendly smirk while he gently rubbed the side of his jaw, and as he rolled up to a red light he was about to reassure him it was all fine.

“... well, not that I wouldn't like kissing you.”

It had almost passed Victor until the words sank in – his eyes beginning to widen as he realized what John had said and his jaw almost dropping astonishment.

“… and you're very attractive…”

He clenched his jaw at that, feeling an unwelcomed blush coming on and unsure how to stop it.

“… not that I hope we don't become more than friends, as I would be opened to the idea…”

If he had any clue on how to stop the redness from growing on his cheeks, he would’ve been failing miserably by then. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing much less what to say. He might as well have been like a robot short-circuiting with it’s vocal commands being corrupted, being fed too much data all at once to even properly run or work anymore. Except instead of data and numbers they were words being catapulted at him and his own thoughts. And the more he considered his thoughts and the emotions that accompanied them, the more Victor became aware that, yes, he indeed had a bona fide crush for this man, but it didn’t stop there. Because even though it had gone completely undetected for Victor before, it had just become painfully clear that John had some of the same mutual feelings towards him as well.

He… had not prepared for that. At all. Maybe as absurd as the thought was, he had always assumed that any hidden feelings he had towards someone would never be reciprocated. He never had any reason of why they would be. He was an older man who lived like a hippy and who had already accepted the fact that people wouldn't be very impressed if you told them you worked as a janitor. And he was okay with that. Truth be told, he had never been good in romantic situations so he figured with the position that he was in now, he would never have to face them, forever to sweep any emotions of loneliness or love under the rug for no one else to ever see until the day he died. But now, it wasn't one-sided anymore. And he had absolutely no idea how to respond.

If this were a cartoon he would’ve rolled down the window and jumped right out of it and into a rocket ship, the car to have stopped and parked itself safely somewhere so John would be okay while Victor rocketed out of there on the comically multicolored spacecraft with the word “NOPE” written on the side of it where John would then realize how insane Vic was, completely forget about him and move on with his life while Vic himself made a new home on the moon and made small contact with possible aliens that would float by, in hope that he would never again feel anything even remotely related to romance and die alone to become the male and space equivalent of a crazy cat lady that lived on earth.

But this was not a cartoon. This was real-life, firmly established by the numerous facts and realities that he was forced to face and look directly at, such as his car, where he was sitting, who he was sitting with, and the streetlight turning from red to green, signaling him to drive ahead.

He drove forward and stayed completely silent for a moment until eventually – still dazed, confused, incredibly flustered and no doubtingly looking like an idiot – he cleared his throat. “Well now,” was all he could respond. “I uh…” he trailed off, realizing he didn’t know what to say. He unconsciously tapped on the steering wheel until he thought of something.
“… Hey it was… uh, just an accident, right?” He finally said. “It’s all… completely water on the bridge. You don’t have to worry about still staying… uh, friends or not.” His confidence slowly started to build up once again, the focus of driving and going down the road helping the wheels in his head to turn normally and make him function once more. “It’s all just fine. Nothing’s been hindered in our relationship or whatever. I mean, it should be a positive thing that we now know our feelings are pretty mutu… al.” He had tried to stop himself in time, but the comment managed to still seep out in the end. “Whoa, wow, I did not mean for that to… I mean, not that I didn’t mean it per se but I didn’t – I just meant I think the same way about you.”

Crap. This had not been the way Victor had wanted to resolve this, his apparent vocal filter having disappeared, his voice beginning to waver and the blush that had been slowly fading returning with a vengeance. “I-I mean, about before, about being friends. Friendship’s still intact. You’re a good friend. I’m glad you’re my friend. And, well, you know, I understand the whole ‘being more than friends’ thing too. Completely okay with the idea of tha…t. ” He had to stop talking. He HAD to. He was making a fool of himself and admitting way too many things that he had never thought he would share out loud. In retrospect, he felt like should’ve followed with John’s plan.

The street up ahead where the coffee shop ran had no street parking, so he pulled up to the curb on the street they were on and hastily parked near a meter. “Welp we’re here.” He quickly said. “Just gotta walk down the street and there’s the shop.” He reached over for some change to put into the parking meter and got out of the car.

[John Smith]

“It’s all just fine. Nothing’s been hindered in our relationship or whatever. I mean, it should be a positive thing that we now know our feelings are pretty mutu… al.”

Mutual. Mutual? John must have been imagining things, or having auditory hallucinations or something, because he thought he'd just heard... it had just sounded like Victor had said. No, impossible. Completely impossible. Victor? Victor was gorgeous. Victor was smooth. Victor who could talk to anyone, who could make anything look cool--- honestly, he made washing windows look like the coolest thing on Earth, like washing a ridiculously expensive sports car in your driveway. Not that John was into that sort of thing, he preferred the hippy type. And, that too! Victor played the guitar, he had tattoos, he was so calm so... what did they call it here? Chill! He was the chillest of the chill! He made everything look good--- a dirty old tee-shirt looked like it was stolen off of the runway when Victor wore it. He was like a mature version of the god Adonis. He was the definition of everything a person could desire. He could have anyone he wanted if he so much as winked at them.

But, come to think of it... when had John ever seen Victor with anyone? He searched his internal files for some instance when he'd seen Victor with someone like that... some pretty bird hanging on his arm, some cool musician type man with a leather jacket, maybe even some vanilla life-anchor type person. He found that he couldn't recall a single time when he'd seen Victor involved with another person romantically. He'd always just sort of assumed that Victor had a long line of lovers waiting for him when he got out of work. It was a silly assumption to make really, based completely on what he'd seen of Victor--- the charm, the looks, the way he walked. It was silly to assume things about anyone. But, interested in John? That was insane. Even if he was gay, there were tons of other men around the campus and around the town who were far more likely candidates for Victor's affection. There were men with looks, power, money, charm. John was just a silly science man with no life outside of his work. Work was his life, and as much as he loved it, it didn't completely make up for his lack of relationships.

Victor was all of the good qualities that John lacked. Why would he be interested in John? He must have heard wrong. That's what it was, of course.

“I-I mean, about before, about being friends. Friendship’s still intact. You’re a good friend. I’m glad you’re my friend. And, well, you know, I understand the whole ‘being more than friends’ thing too. Completely okay with the idea of tha…t. ”

He hadn't heard wrong. Bloody hell. He'd actually heard right. Was Victor just messing around with him? Was he trying to be funny, or something? No, that sounded like real sincerity in his voice. Bloody hell. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it was a wonder his ribs didn't crack under the strain. Could Victor hear his heart beating? John's pulse was so loud in his ears, it seemed like a real possibility.

“Whoa, wow, I did not mean for that to… I mean, not that I didn’t mean it per se but I didn’t – I just meant I think the same way about you.”

John was smiling. He couldn't help it. He wanted to sing and dance, stick his head out of the window and give a good animal scream. He'd been fired out of a particle accelerator, he was blowing up, he was everywhere at once and so so happy. He didn't know what to say. That was new! He was never speechless before! He wanted so many things at once. He'd been given a gift from out of nowhere and he didn't know what to do with it. Every molecule in his body was spinning in excited circles. He could have climbed a tree, or a mountain. He could have run a thousand miles. He felt like he'd been filled with rocket fuel and was about to be sent up to space. He was over the moon. He was being shot from one end of the universe to another in a matter of seconds.

This was the part where something happened right? The world exploded? Something had to happen. A polar shift? The sky looked brighter than he remembered it being. Colours looked brighter too. Something big was going to happen now, after what had just happened. The universe couldn't tolerate just having it's laws broken like that. Maybe John would be struck dead right then and there to restore equilibrium in the universe. He'd die happy. He could have died of happiness now.

“Just gotta walk down the street and there’s the shop.”

That was it then? A freebie? The universe was just going to let him have this joy without taking anything back in return? Maybe the universe had been watching him too, as he watched the universe. Maybe it had seen that he was lonely, and aligned the stars for one night just to make it's loyal student happy. Human beings were such enigmas! To think that a person like Victor would wind up in the same car as John, saying that he actually felt something for him seemed to go against nature--- nature dictated that people like John were not attractive to attractive people like Victor. Isn't that what people said? Even in fairy-tales, the beautiful prince always ended up with the beautiful princess. But, Victor was more than that, wasn't he? He was a kindred spirit, a student of life, beyond being the most physically perfect human being on the planet. John wasn't going to lie to himself now, he'd thought of Victor far more often than he'd thought of any other friend. He'd thought of Victor in ways he hadn't thought of anyone else. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he'd have to say that he couldn't seem to get Victor out of his mind.

Words, words, where were his words? Victor probably expect him to say something. Why wasn't he saying anything? John had never failed to say something before. He'd never been stricken with this paralysis of the tongue. Victor had stopped the car then, and John slipped out excitement bubbling up inside of him. He realized that he was allowing himself to get too excited about this, but nothing could stop it now. He grinned at Victor, and tried his hardest not to float away on a wave of happiness.

"That's brilliant." He said, quietly. He walked beside Victor, closer than he would have dared before. Nearly touching, though there was plenty of space to walk. His face was lit up with a smile and a blush. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked with his eyes trained down at the ground like he was looking for change, only daring to glance up at Victor when they'd reached the entrance of the coffee shop. "That's just... brilliant." And, that's all he could say.