storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-12-04 11:26 am
storypaint) wrote2009-12-04 11:26 am
The Honorable Thing (Layton/Luke)
Title: The Honorable Thing
Fandom: Professor Layton
Length: 717 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: Layton finds he's attracted to Luke but Luke doesn't feel the same or is reluctant.
Pairing: (onesided) Layton/Luke
Other: Discriminatory language.
Excerpt: Luke didn't understand the reasoning behind Layton's long stares, odd blushes, and odd touchiness.
Luke didn't understand the reasoning behind Layton's long stares, odd blushes, and odd touchiness. It seemed that every time he turned around that there was Layton brushing his hand, or fingers on his shoulder, or just the professor standing there with an odd smile on his face.
A boy at school sneered at him the day after Layton came to pick him up. "You're sixteen and your professor still holds your hand to cross the street? What are you, fags?"
"Never!" Luke replied hotly. "We're just-- he's my dad!"
"I thought he was your teacher," the boy said suspiciously.
"Why would I go to school if I had a tutor, stupid?" Luke answered, bile rising in his throat. The likelihood of this punk ever meeting Mr. Triton, half the world away in America, was quite low, but he hated having to lie. The professor had taught him better than that.
"I guess you're just a baby," the kid shot back. Instead of being a calm and reasonable person like Layton would want him to be, Luke swung his fist, and found himself in the principal's office not long afterward, with self-same mentor. Layton looked disapprovingly down at Luke as the principal explained what exactly he'd done (one black eye and a scratch across the other boy's cheek-- not much considering that Luke had two shiners, and sore fists besides).
They walked home in silence, the cold wind biting at Luke's cheeks. He'd lost his scarf in the scuffle, somehow, the scarf Layton had patiently knitted him last Christmas. (Layton could do anything, he still thought sometimes, with a little boy's awe, even as a sixteen-year-old.)
"Luke," Layton said gravely. Luke couldn't look up at him. "I don't understand why you have turned away from the ways I have taught you. Remember, a gentleman does not fight unless it is necessary to defend himself or others. Did that boy strike you first?"
"No," Luke admitted after a long moment. "But... Professor..."
They'd reached the door of the little house they shared. Layton pulled the keys from his pocket, but paused to look at his apprentice. Luke had grown so much since he'd come into his care. The little boy was now nearly as tall as his mentor. His wind-blown cheeks still spoke of his youth, and Layton couldn't help his eyes softening at the sight.
"Yes, Luke?"
"He said," Luke said, and then lowered his voice, "that we were together, Professor. Homosexuals. I had to... I had to defend your honor, Professor!"
An odd expression crossed Layton's face. He turned away and busied himself with the lock. When he opened the door, he turned back and gestured for Luke to pass through first.
"You don't need to defend me," he said softly. "A gentleman always tempers his emotions, Luke, especially for the sake of the greater good."
"Yes, but--"
"I want you to think about that. You are grounded until you've written me a lengthy essay on the responsibility of a young man in society."
Luke's heart sank, though he'd expected some sort of punishment. If he worked hard, maybe he could get it done by the weekend. And if nothing else, he had an excuse not to show off his black eyes until they'd faded a little.
He took off his hat and his coat, hanging them up. The professor reached out, almost cautiously, and ruffled Luke's hair, something he hadn't done since Luke was quite small. The boy smiled at his mentor. Even if he was in trouble, he knew that Layton still cared for him.
Just not in that way.
"Off to your room with you, my boy," Layton said easily. "I'll call you for dinner and read what you've gotten done by then."
"Yes, Professor," Luke replied, resigned, and made his way down the hall, shutting his bedroom door behind him.
Layton hung his hat up next to Luke's, and his coat. For a moment, he fingered the fabric of that blue hat. It had been another gift, this time for Luke's birthday this year; a bigger hat for a growing young man.
The professor sighed a little, under his breath, and sat down in the living room alone to read.
Fandom: Professor Layton
Length: 717 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: Layton finds he's attracted to Luke but Luke doesn't feel the same or is reluctant.
Pairing: (onesided) Layton/Luke
Other: Discriminatory language.
Excerpt: Luke didn't understand the reasoning behind Layton's long stares, odd blushes, and odd touchiness.
Luke didn't understand the reasoning behind Layton's long stares, odd blushes, and odd touchiness. It seemed that every time he turned around that there was Layton brushing his hand, or fingers on his shoulder, or just the professor standing there with an odd smile on his face.
A boy at school sneered at him the day after Layton came to pick him up. "You're sixteen and your professor still holds your hand to cross the street? What are you, fags?"
"Never!" Luke replied hotly. "We're just-- he's my dad!"
"I thought he was your teacher," the boy said suspiciously.
"Why would I go to school if I had a tutor, stupid?" Luke answered, bile rising in his throat. The likelihood of this punk ever meeting Mr. Triton, half the world away in America, was quite low, but he hated having to lie. The professor had taught him better than that.
"I guess you're just a baby," the kid shot back. Instead of being a calm and reasonable person like Layton would want him to be, Luke swung his fist, and found himself in the principal's office not long afterward, with self-same mentor. Layton looked disapprovingly down at Luke as the principal explained what exactly he'd done (one black eye and a scratch across the other boy's cheek-- not much considering that Luke had two shiners, and sore fists besides).
They walked home in silence, the cold wind biting at Luke's cheeks. He'd lost his scarf in the scuffle, somehow, the scarf Layton had patiently knitted him last Christmas. (Layton could do anything, he still thought sometimes, with a little boy's awe, even as a sixteen-year-old.)
"Luke," Layton said gravely. Luke couldn't look up at him. "I don't understand why you have turned away from the ways I have taught you. Remember, a gentleman does not fight unless it is necessary to defend himself or others. Did that boy strike you first?"
"No," Luke admitted after a long moment. "But... Professor..."
They'd reached the door of the little house they shared. Layton pulled the keys from his pocket, but paused to look at his apprentice. Luke had grown so much since he'd come into his care. The little boy was now nearly as tall as his mentor. His wind-blown cheeks still spoke of his youth, and Layton couldn't help his eyes softening at the sight.
"Yes, Luke?"
"He said," Luke said, and then lowered his voice, "that we were together, Professor. Homosexuals. I had to... I had to defend your honor, Professor!"
An odd expression crossed Layton's face. He turned away and busied himself with the lock. When he opened the door, he turned back and gestured for Luke to pass through first.
"You don't need to defend me," he said softly. "A gentleman always tempers his emotions, Luke, especially for the sake of the greater good."
"Yes, but--"
"I want you to think about that. You are grounded until you've written me a lengthy essay on the responsibility of a young man in society."
Luke's heart sank, though he'd expected some sort of punishment. If he worked hard, maybe he could get it done by the weekend. And if nothing else, he had an excuse not to show off his black eyes until they'd faded a little.
He took off his hat and his coat, hanging them up. The professor reached out, almost cautiously, and ruffled Luke's hair, something he hadn't done since Luke was quite small. The boy smiled at his mentor. Even if he was in trouble, he knew that Layton still cared for him.
Just not in that way.
"Off to your room with you, my boy," Layton said easily. "I'll call you for dinner and read what you've gotten done by then."
"Yes, Professor," Luke replied, resigned, and made his way down the hall, shutting his bedroom door behind him.
Layton hung his hat up next to Luke's, and his coat. For a moment, he fingered the fabric of that blue hat. It had been another gift, this time for Luke's birthday this year; a bigger hat for a growing young man.
The professor sighed a little, under his breath, and sat down in the living room alone to read.