John Constantine (
petty_dabbler) wrote2021-09-28 02:44 pm
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Wyn
The day was finally done. He shooed out the last of the students, swung the door closed, and lit a cigarette right there in the basement.
These children were going to be the death of him. Maybe he could convince Guy to teach a lesson or two on pertinent symbols.
With his cig in his mouth, John rolled up his sleeves and sat cross legged in the center of a circle surrounded my mystical runes and symbols. The circle began to glow gold as he performed the ritual to strengthen the protections in the Dark Arts room. John was sure they were one student fuck up away from a schoolwide disaster.
These children were going to be the death of him. Maybe he could convince Guy to teach a lesson or two on pertinent symbols.
With his cig in his mouth, John rolled up his sleeves and sat cross legged in the center of a circle surrounded my mystical runes and symbols. The circle began to glow gold as he performed the ritual to strengthen the protections in the Dark Arts room. John was sure they were one student fuck up away from a schoolwide disaster.
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"If you don't mind, I think that might be nice," Wyn said softly.
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"I don't mind at all," John smiled. He held him comfortably and settled into the pillow. He wasn't sleepy, but he was absolutely spent.
"I like how you talk about New York. Tell me a story, then."
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"Like what? Like walking the city streets in the rain, darting into quiet little bookshops and cafe's? Or... Walks in central park, trying to visit every nook and cranny..."
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John listened, rapt, as Wyn narrated the streets and places of the city. Some things he could clearly envision, having visited them himself.
"I haven't been there in years. It was a shithole back in the 80's when I was your age."
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"Really? Tell me about it," Wyn pressed. He loved listening to John just talk.
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"It was 82, or maybe 83, and I was in a band. Never got famous enough for money, but famous enough for an international tour. That tour being New York, Detroit, and Minneapolis...some other spots. Never got out of New York, though. Wound up working until we could get the cash for tickets home."
He talked on and on about the punk scene, about cocaine, about beautiful men, beautiful women, queers and thugs and con men. Drug addicts, hookers, the underside of the city people liked to ignore. But he spoke about all of it with a fondness only nostalgia could offer.
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Wyn settled against him, listening quietly.
"Sounds exciting," he said softly.
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He reached over to the side table and grabbed a cig and lit it with his fingertip, squirming to sit up a bit.
"...I wouldn't go back. Glory days, hmm?"
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"I guess," Wyn said, watching the other man.
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John had so many old stories, tales of time gone by. He'd told them again and again, always with the same inflection, the same jokes. and the students always made him feel as original and interesting as if he hadn't been reliving his youth for their enjoyment. It was a powerful thing, to feel like this. To feel fascinating.
And, oh, did he love the way Wyn looked at him.
"It'd be interesting to go together," he suggested lightly.
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"You going to take me on vacation?" Wyn giggled, certain John was teasing. "Very romantic."
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"Might do. Could take you to New York over the Christmas holiday. Skating. That big toy store. We could get a good hotel...do the tourist thing," he offered. It was genuine, he couldn't think of a better way to spend the break.
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"You're not worried people would talk?" Wyn asked softly, settling against the pillows.
It did sound fun, but Wyn was sure they'd never get away unnoticed.
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"If we don't leave together, and don't return together, who's going to know? America's across the fucking ocean," he chuckled.
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"I suppose that's true," Wyn nodded, looking thoughtful.
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It's was a nice little daydream, though.
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"Okay," Wyn said, feeling a little thrill at the possibility of slipping off for an adventure with John.
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"So what are your Christmas traditions, hmm? Yule log? Trimming the tree? Eating yourself stupid?" he asked, settling comfortably into the pillow.
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"I've never celebrated," Wyn admitted. "I've been on my own since I was quite young."
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"There will be plenty to choose from around here," John assured him. "I'm not sure about the headmaster, but the last headmistress really went bonkers for the season."
His smile was a bit sad. He'd adored the old battle-axe. Her loss was a tragedy.
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"Really?" Wyn asked. "I'm excited to celebrate then. It'd be nice to see it all."
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John took the last drag and stubbed the but in the ash tray.
"But first, there's Halloween to get through," he said. He wasn't thrilled about it. Halloween was always busy for him, trying to keep the students safe while the veil was at its thinnest.
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"Going to serve me some treats?" Wyn asked playfully, crawling over to him and then moving to straddle his lap. "How about a few tricks?"
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John smirked and settled his hands on Wyn's ass to hold him in place.
"A little of both, I'd think," he said.
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"My favourite mix," Wyn grinned, leaning in to kiss him.
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