smallgayjew

“He's a right prat, you know,” Scripps says as they pick up their bikes to ride home after school one day.

“I know,” Posner answers, not needing to ask whom Scripps is talking about. There's only ever one 'he' in these conversations. “But he's a beautiful prat.”

“As prats go,” Scripps remarks, smirking, mounting his bike to head off home.

***

“You'll only make his head bigger. It's a wonder he fits in the classroom as it is,” Scripps mutters as Posner leans against his locker, watching Dakin walk off down the corridor.

“He needs someone to adore him.”

“He's got Fiona for that.”

“Fiona doesn't adore him,” Posner argues. “She's just...waiting for something better to come along.”

“So is he,” Scripps points out.

Posner nods and turns to pull a heavy volume on Churchill from his locker. “I know it isn't me. Don't worry.”

***

“'Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!'” Scripps says as they walk their bikes into the courtyard before school.

“'An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by fullness, not by reception,'” Posner counters.

“'My love is of a birth as rare
As ‘tis for object strange and high:
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility,'” Scripps tries on his turn, but Posner just comes back with, “'Let no one who loves be called unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow.'”

“You're hopeless,” Scripps concludes.

“You wish.”



[ooc: Quotes are from William S. Gilbert, Harold Lokes, Andrew Marvell, and James Matthew Barrie, respectively.]