Chapter Text
People always told Piper that it was the teacher that made the subject, and sitting in Professor Gadling’s lecture hall, she had to agree. She had never been that into history, and had only picked it because she needed the units and every other option had sounded frankly shit. Or at least shittier than Europe in the Middle Ages. Or even just harder to slack off in. Besides, her friend Dylan was a massive nerd for shit like this and what was uni if not a social exercise? Still, if Piper was being completely honest with herself, she had been planning to stop showing up after the first lecture or two. But of course, that had gone out the window when Professor Gadling had walked in the door.
She and Dylan had tried to put it into words once they had realised that, no, his… je ne sais quoi was not just a first week façade and he was actually just like that. Dylan had suggested that he was just young — mid thirties, maybe? — and it was the lack of knee replacements that allowed him to pace the hall with such confidence. Piper said he was probably high, and that he had that sort of long-haired hippie look to him, didn’t he? Dylan had whacked her then, exclaiming that Piper couldn’t just say that about her teachers, but she never exactly disagreed. It was once they were a bottle or so deep in red wine (so much for a study session) that the joke began: Professor Robert Gadling was immortal.
It was funny, really. It had started off completely and entirely baseless, more just something to giggle over for the sake of giggling over something. Yeah, of course Gadling’s immortal, all good history teachers are, and the like. Neither Piper nor Dylan even thought they would remember it in the morning. But they did, and it stuck. It stuck like chewing gum on their shoes, picking up all the little hints towards it that Gadling would drop in class. Soon, Piper and Dylan had not so much as a list but a library of all the crazy things he would say. Some of it was easily attributed to “his bit ,” as Piper had described it. He seemed as much in on the joke as they were. He was in love with chimneys in a way that suggested he could remember a time before them, and could hardly go a lecture without mentioning Shakespeare and how he was incredibly overrated and, you know what? A plagiarist — but of course, whenever asked who he was plagiarising or (god forbid) for a source, Gadling simply laughed and said an old friend of his. And that was Gadling’s thing, really. He was always making claims about one thing or another with absolutely zero evidence to back it up, but nothing to the contrary either. Dylan always said that he was just well-researched and so understood plausible undeniability to a level they couldn’t; Piper put it on the list anyhow.
“You know,” Piper said on the way to a lecture, slightly breathless as she reached the top of the stairs. “We should ask him about his friend. The one he’s always talking about.”
“No. No way! That’s so rude. He’s our professor, not our friend.” Even as Dylan said it, her eyes flickered towards the door of the hall curiously.
“Speak for yourself. After the grade he gave me on the last exam I’d bloody well take being his lover,” Piper said. She was doing well in a medieval history class, who would have thought? “Besides, we already have the list. What’s the difference between invading his personal life and his life span ?”
“There is so clearly a difference.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. For one, his personal life is like… real. And two, he doesn’t know about the list. He’ll definitely know if we start poking around in his relationships.”
“Oh my God, you’re dramatic. We’re not poking around, we’re asking a question. He doesn’t have to tell us anything he doesn’t want to,” Piper rolled her eyes. “Besides, we don’t even know if his friend is real. With the amount of time he seems to have been around for, I’m starting to think it’s just JSTOR.”
Dylan eyed her. “You promise you won’t push him? Or be rude?”
Piper laughed. “Admit it, you’re just as curious as I am, I just have the balls to do something about it.” Dylan kept staring. “Ugh. You already know I won’t.”
“Fine, then. At the end of the lecture,” Dylan sighed, pushing open the doors. “Now come on, don’t make me late.”
The lecture was an uneventful one. Well, it was for Dylan. It was all about medieval underwear (amongst other less amusing garments), so you can bet that Dylan was making notes for the life of her, while Piper put just as much thought and care into her dick jokes. Still, it put the class in a good mood at least, and by the end of it Dylan wasn’t even muttering about how “it’s such a bad idea.” In fact, she seemed almost excited when she and Piper strolled up to him with an amiable “Hey, Prof!”
He looked up from his paperwork.
“Piper, Dylan! What can I do for you two?”
“We have a question,” Piper said solemnly.
“Piper has a question.”
“Whatever. We were wondering about your friend.”
“My friend?” Professor Gadling said. “Which one? I do have more than one, you know.”
“You know…” Dylan shrugged. “ The friend. The old one. The one you always talk about.”
“Ah, yes,” Professor Gadling said in a way that implied he had known it was going to be that friend. “Him. What about him?”
Dylan gestured at Piper to say something.
“Uh, anything really. What’s his name?”
“Don’t know.” The professor was definitely smiling beneath his mask of professionalism. Bastard. Dylan and Piper looked at each other.
“You don’t know your friend’s name?” Dylan asked.
“We’re not… we just don’t see each other very often. It’s complicated,” Gadling said, setting down his papers. “He’s not around very much, is all. He’s one of those people who you tell your whole life story to before you realise, well, you realise that you don’t even know his name.”
“Piper’s like, the opposite of that,” Dylan grinned. “She never shuts up.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Piper said. “Can we at least see a photo then, if you don’t have a name?”
“Don’t have any,” Professor Gadling shrugged. Piper couldn’t even tell if that was true, or if he really was just friends with JSTOR.
“A description, surely.”
“Agh, sure, why not? Not really like he's around much. Black hair, a bit like a bird really — a raven, that’s it. So messy you’d think he’s never even seen a hairbrush, but in an artistic, intentional way. Eyes like galaxies. Skin so pale he looks like a statue come to life — sculpted like one too, God.” It took a moment for Gadling to return to himself after… whatever that was. He pursed his lips before just adding; “Goth.”
Piper and Dylan shared a “we are so talking about this later” look.
“So are you like…” Piper said, regretting the words as they left her mouth. She stumbled for an even slightly okay phrasing. Dylan stared at her, appalled. “... together, then?” She winced. Professor Gadling only laughed.
“You’d be hard pressed to get him to admit we’re friends, let alone anything else.” His face was jovial but there was a slight bitterness to his voice.
“Oh,” Dylan said. “Sorry, Professor.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. Nothing you can do.” He waved them off. “Now, go study. I’ll give you a warning as thanks for your company — and because you were definitely not listening today Piper — there’s a pop quiz on Friday. Be prepared.”
After a chorus of “yes, Professor,” and “thank you, Professor ”s, Dylan and Piper set off. They were hardly out of earshot before they exploded into whispers.
It was about a week later that the unthinkable happened.
Piper had just turned to get a pen out of her bag, momentarily glancing up at the door. Then another, longer glance at the door — or rather, who was standing in its frame.
“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Holy shit, Dylan it’s him.” She grabbed at her friend’s arm.
“What do you mean it’s — holy shit!” she gasped, turning to also stare in shock, horror, amazement? “It’s him !”
“Fuck,” Piper muttered. She looked over to where Gadling was standing. He too was staring like it was an angel in the doorway. And Piper had to admit (even through the lesbianism) that Gadling’s friend could pass for one. The two men stared at each other, and soon the room fell silent, watching them.
“You’re late,” Professor Gadling choked out finally. The man began to descend the stairs.
“It seems I owe you an apology,” and fuck his voice was like the ocean washing over her. A small smile played on his lips. “I’ve always heard it impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”
Gadling broke out into a schoolboy grin. Piper clutched at her friend, while Dylan held a hand over her mouth. Both were frozen in shock, or anticipation, or just the fucking tension in that lecture hall. They hardly even registered Gadling saying “class dismissed,” and Dylan had to physically push Piper out of her chair to get her to move. Someone wolf-whistled as they left, Piper called out, “Congrats, sir!” Dylan shoved her again.
Once they were out of the room, Piper pulled Dylan to the side.
“It’s him,” she breathed. Dylan nodded.
“I never thought he was being, I don’t know, literal when he said he looked like a Greek God.”
“How did good old Professor Gadling bag that ?”
“Well, he hasn’t has he?” Dylan said. “When we asked him he said he didn’t even have his name.”
“And he also said that what’s-his-face wouldn’t ever admit to being his friend, which he just did!”
Dylan peeked through the door. The man’s soft, mellow voice carried like a melody through those shitty acoustics.
“Come on!”
“What? Where are we going?”
“Uh, to listen in, obviously?” Piper pulled at Dylan’s hand, tugging her towards the side door where they would actually be able to hear what’s being said.
“We can’t do that!” Dylan whispered, but she didn’t even try to pull her hand free.
“Oh fuck off, Henry,” Piper muttered as they arrived at the side door.
Henry, who was crouched next to the exit with apparently the exact same plan, whispered, “Go find your own spot!”
“Go find your own spot!” Piper mocked. “This is the first lecture you’ve even shown up to in, what, six weeks?”
“So?” he snapped, before glancing in the hall and lowering his voice. “I have every right to be here that you do. We pay the same fees.”
“Oh boo hoo! Now leave before I tell Gemma about the other girls’ nudes you have on your phone.”
Henry chewed his cheek, before saying “Fuck you, Piper.”
“You wish. Now go.”
He glanced at Dylan. “Hey, sorry for what happened between us, Dyl —”
“No you’re not,” she scoffed. “You heard Pipes. Leave.”
After a moment of pure hatred, he did, thank God. Dylan opened her mouth.
“Don’t mention it,” Piper said, shaking her head. “Besides, I couldn’t even hear —”
“Roderick Burgess?” Hob exclaimed. “ Him?”
“Yes, him,” the stranger said. Professor Gadling sighed. Piper could almost picture him, pacing with his head in his hand.
“I can’t believe I never put it together. There were always rumours that, well… that he had the Devil in his basement. And the Sleepy Sickness too, fuck…” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
“It is I that should be sorry, Hob Gadling,” he said. Piper and Dylan exchanged a look. What the fuck was an understatement. “I undervalued your company. My time without it has shown that to me.”
Professor Gadling — Hob? — sighed again. “Come on, you two,” he called. “In you come.”
Piper stood first, and steeled her face into her classic “who, me?” expression. Dylan followed with the airs of a wounded dog.
“Professor!” Piper said. “Hi.”
“Piper.” Gadling sounded exasperated, but that didn’t wipe the smile from his face. Piper didn’t even have the guts to look the other man in the eye, but she could feel his gaze on her. Eyes like galaxies was an understatement; it was like the sun was drilling directly into her skin. “You know, next time you’re eavesdropping, you should try and be a little quieter.”
“Sorry, Professor,” Dylan said. “We were just…” She gestured vaguely.
“Doesn’t matter. Right, well,” he turned to the stranger. “Suppose we should finish this at our usual spot — or the new one, I should say?”
The stranger nodded, and with him finally looking away from her, Piper glanced over. Her mind reeled, searching for the words to describe him. He was less like a supermodel and more like a supernova. He nodded.
“See you soon then, Hob Gadling.”
“And you…” Professor Gadling hesitated. “Dream.”
Dream (stupid ass name — was it a name? Or a pet name? Already ?) smiled at that, before turning neatly on his heel and walking out the door. Professor Gadling watched him leave. Piper cleared her throat, to which Gadling noticeably startled.
“ Soooo ,”
“Go home, Piper. Dylan, make sure she does.”
“Yes, sir.”
+++
+++
“So,” Piper said, looking up from her naughts-and-crosses to watch Gadling as he went on the second Shakespeare rant on the lecture. “How old do we think he is?”
“Like serious or not serious? Because those are two very different answers.”
“Mmmm, serious first.”
Dylan glanced up from her notes and stared intently at Gadling. “35, tops. You could argue late 20s but I think that’s his, uh, youthful charm more than anything.”
“Really? I was thinking older. 30s to 40s range.” Piper considered the man. “Ugh, I think you’re right though. It’s just his clothes that are old.”
“Always am, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, well, how old do we think he is really?” Piper narrowed her eyes. “At least 400 hundred.”
“Oh, way more than 400. He teaches medieval history like he lived through it,” Dylan said.
“Nah, see I think that’s just to throw us off the scent. He’s probably really into it because it’s something he didn’t live through. Do you want to know my guess?” Piper leant forwards.
“Not really.”
“My guess is that he was around when Shakespeare was — what was that, 1600s?”
“Late 16th early 17th.”
“Whatever. And he and Shakespeare had an affair before Gadling got turned immortal, but when Shakespeare found out he called it off. That’s why Shakespeare’s always going on about spooky shit, and that ’s why Gadling hates him so much. Because it’s his ex.” Piper said smugly. “And that’s where the curse of the Scottish Tragedy came from. Gadling screwing people over whenever they mention his play.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Dylan rolled her eyes. “And who do we think it was that he allegedly plagiarised? The professor?”
“Gadling? A poet? No way. It was his boyfriend. The goth.”
“Dream?” Dylan suggested. “You know, his name ?”
“Yeah, him.”
Dylan paused. “He seems… mopey enough to be one, I suppose. How old do we reckon he is?”
Piper laughed. “Old as balls, for sure.”
“For sure.” Dylan agreed. “Before or after Neanderthals?”
“Hmmmm,” Piper pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’m trying to fit his incredible bone structure into my timeline of human history but I don’t think I can.”
“Is he even human then?”
“Ooh, you know what, I hadn’t even considered that,” Piper said. “Maybe not.”
Dylan spread her hands. “Who’s always right again?”
“Ha ha ha, Dylan the genius, whatever.” Piper shook her head.
Another week had passed without so much as a hint of Gadling’s boyfriend reappearing. Piper was getting impatient.
“Do you remember,” she asked, “what it was that Gadling and the goth were talking about when we were eavesdropping?”
Dylan frowned. “Why?”
“Because it was really fucking weird.”
“Well yeah, the Sleepy Sickness is weird. Nobody knows why it started or anything.”
“No but, why were they talking about it?” Piper turned to her friend. They were at the park with ice cream in hand, Piper’s new haunt as she kept a lookout for a certain professor. “Like, why do they care?”
“Because everyone cares, Piper. Or at least they do now. People started waking up a few months ago, you know,” Dylan said. Piper eyed her ice cream; hers now little more than an empty cone.
“Yeah of course I know, it’s just… random, is all.” Piper sucked on her cheek. “Who was that guy they mentioned?”
“Uhh, fuck. Something Burr? Burner? No, that’s not it.” Dylan shook her head. “The man they said had the Devil locked up or something.”
Piper strained her thoughts. “Bu… Bur… Burgess!”
“That’s the one,” Dylan said. “Roderick Burgess. Do you think he really had the Devil in the basement?”
Piper paused. “You’re going to make fun of me.”
“Yeah? Never stopped you before.”
“No but… are you serious? When you say that Gadling’s immortal?”
Dylan burst out laughing. “How could I be serious ? Are you?”
“Well!” Piper said hotly. “I’m just saying there’s something weird about him! Them! Both of them!”
“Okay, Piper,” Dylan said, suddenly stone-faced. “I’ll be serious.”
“No you won’t.”
“Just say it.”
“Fine,” Piper inhaled. “I bet it was the boyfriend. The Devil in the basement was Dream.”
Dylan stared.
“You can laugh, I don’t care.”
“No, you’ve just never called him his name before. Don’t tell me you’re going all soppy on him,” Dylan leant on her friend’s arm.
“I’m not going soppy . Tell you what, I would go sloppy though —”
“Whoa, what happened to being a lesbian?”
“Well it doesn’t count if he’s not even human, does it?”
+++
+++
Dylan could hardly look Piper in the eye at the next lecture.
“Stop it,” she said.
“What?” Piper asked innocently. “I’m not doing anything!”
“You are… you’re being smug.”
“I have every right to be. I was right, you were wrong.”
“Yeah, but I’m not like this when you’re wrong about something,” Dylan said. Piper stared incredulously.
“Sorry, how long have we been friends? I won’t care if you admit to being a twat. In fact, I might appreciate you more for it.”
“Ha ha,” Dylan said, shaking her head. Just as she did, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the unmistakable form of a black trench coat wandering down the stairs. “Don’t turn around.”
“What do you mean, don’t turn aro —?” But Piper had already swivelled in her chair, an exaggerated gasp leaving her mouth. “ He’s back! ”
“Yes, now stop staring .” Dylan pushed her friend back to face the front, where Professor Gadling was smiling from ear to ear. But it turns out even that was a pointless endeavour, because Dream took a seat in the front row. Piper started packing her bag. “What are you —?”
“Come on!” Piper said. “No one sits down there, we can speak to him!”
“Oh my God, no we can’t!” Dylan grabbed at the chair to stop Piper from dragging her off of it. “That’s our professor’s boyfriend .”
“Uh, not today he’s not. He’s in the lecture hall, he’s free game.” Piper continued staring. Dylan chewed her lip. Piper sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll have to ask all about his sex life without you then —”
“No you will not!” Dylan said, jumping up. The seat flung itself folded behind her. She grabbed her things (about 50 highlighters per hand, Piper would say) with an angry glare. “Fine. I’ll come with you. Just so you can’t say anything stupid.”
Piper smiled. “Me? Stupid? Never.”
“Hi,” Piper said brightly. “Can we sit here?”
Dream said nothing. The only indication that he had been spoken to at all was a slight twitch to his lip. He glanced at Hob in what, to Dylan, looked like a plea for help.
“Come on,” she muttered. “He clearly doesn’t want us here.”
“No,” he said, and Dylan jumped. “Sit. You are welcome to.”
“Thank you,” Piper said, already dumping her things at the table next to him. Fuck it, I guess , Dylan thought, sitting down next to her.
“So,” Piper said finally. Usually Dylan would call this “cutting the tension,” but very delicately chipping away at it seemed a more apt description. “What brings you here?”
Dream looked at her, a slight hint of incredulousness to his expression. “Hob Gadling,” he replied finally.
“Ah, yes, thought so,” Piper nodded thoughtfully. Dylan groaned in anticipation. “He brings me here too. Makes my attendance go down if I’m not, see.”
Dream continued staring. His eyes flickered over to Dylan for a moment, and she quickly looked away. He seemed entirely unsure of what to do with himself.
“Yes,” he said.
Piper nodded again, but didn’t say any more (thank God).
“So how did you two meet? You and Professor Gadling.” Dylan asked.
“In a pub,” Dream responded. “I overheard his conversation. He said he wished to never die.”
Dylan and Piper exchanged glances — Piper with pure, unadulterated I told you so in her eyes, and Dylan with the singular thought of no fucking way running through her mind.
“Unfortunate, really,” Piper said, turning back to Dream, “because everyone does.”
“Quite,” Dream agreed. The pair waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
Half the lecture passed in silence. It might have been the first time Dylan had seen Piper work diligently. Whenever she had risked a glance over at Dream, she had seen him watching a now beet red Professor Gadling intently. Professor Gadling, on the other hand, seemed to switch between avoiding eye contact with and outright staring at the man at uncontrolled intervals. Honestly, by the time the half way mark was reached, Dylan might almost call it comfortable. Or, if not that, at least not un comfortable.
That was until Piper whispered to her, “I’m gonna ask him.”
“What?”
“How long they’ve been together.”
“ No you fucking — ” Dylan grabbed at Piper but she had already turned to Dream.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly. Dream looked up at her. “Dylan and I were just wondering how long you two have been together.”
Dylan slammed her head on the table and let out a weak groan. Professor Gadling’s eyes snapped over to them from across the room.
Dream smiled perhaps the first genuine smile Dylan had seen on him since that first day he walked in the hall. “We have not been… together long, Hob Gadling and I. Although, that comes after a very long friendship.”
“How long?”
“Feels like centuries,” Professor Gadling laughed (though Dylan noted it sounded nervous), appearing very suddenly in front of their desk. “Dream,” he said.
“Hob.”
Professor Gadling nodded awkwardly. “Everything all right? They’re not bothering you?”
Dream looked at the pair for a moment, considering them. “No. Everything is perfectly fine.”
Professor Gadling seemed to deflate a bit at that. “Good. Right then.” He steeled himself before turning back to the now whispering class.
“Is your name really Dream?” Piper asked the minute Professor Gadling had walked away.
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Piper said. “Okay.” She paused. “Hob’s a weird nickname, don’t you think? Very… medieval .”
“A family name, I believe.”
“Really?” Piper said, with an entirely unsuccessful attempt to hide her disappointment. Dylan wanted to strangle her. Or herself.
“I thought you thought he wasn’t even around that early,” Dylan whispered to her. “Shakespeare’s lover or some shit.”
Piper waved her off. She turned back to Dream, only to find him staring at them with all the intensity of an atomic bomb going off. Piper laughed weakly.
“I think I’ll just go to the bathroom,” Dylan said, ignoring the look of absolute betrayal on Piper's face. She checked her watch; thank God , only 5 minutes left. When she returned, the lecture had already ended, and Piper was standing outside, holding her own bag.
“You didn’t get mine?” Dylan asked.
“Go fuck yourself.”
+++
