There's No Textbook For This

by Ardatli

The tenure track job is the holy grail for most young academics. Getting hired may have been the easy part. His students are driving him crazy, the bureacracy is driving him to drink, and he's falling for the guy two offices down. Too bad Billy has a boyfriend. All Teddy wants to do is survive his first year.

3. October

October

Fall Break: No Classes Scheduled - Monday, October 15

Fall Break: No Classes Scheduled - Tuesday, October 16

Grad/Fac Seminar (Speaker: Dr. R. Richards) – Friday, October 19

Meeting Nate made things a little easier. Not easy – that was reserved for the day that Teddy got the fuck over it, already. But easier. Nate wasn't just 'the boyfriend' anymore, a faceless enemy. He was a real flesh-and-blood guy, who loved Bill and whom Bill loved. He must, or they wouldn't be together.

Teddy might not like Nate, or the way that Nate hung on Bill, or ran him down with subtle jabs and sideways comments and looks-

- but he didn't have to. It wasn't up to him.

What Teddy knew first-hand about stable, long-term relationships would fill maybe half a page in 18-point font. His parents had been happy, by all accounts. But his dad had died long before Teddy had been old enough to remember, and his mom had never really dated, after. His aunt and uncle seemed happy, but they were so private with anything resembling affection that they may as well have been congenial roommates.

As for Teddy, his longest relationship to date had been a year and a half. And that had been so long-distance that they had been in the same city a grand total of eleven weeks, only a handful of those consecutive. After that (and before, if he was going to be brutally honest, and all the times in between), there had been Greg. Greg and the endless push-me-pull-you, and promises that turned to threats, and the bone-deep desperate yearning for approval that never came.

So really, what could Teddy possibly know?

Except that Bill looked sad around the eyes, and tired.

Except that Nate mocked the things that made Bill brilliant.

Except that Teddy would gladly give up everything for just a chance at long-term love. For someone who would turn to Teddy and laugh, when he murmured in his ear.

It was just a crush. He could enjoy it; enjoy the rush of heat when he was near Bill, the charge in the air when they spoke, a handful of late-night fantasies that he would never admit to, even under torture. He could relax and take pleasure in those things without doing anything about it.

He was a grown man. He was capable of being mature.

oooOooo

Faculty meetings were designed to be painful. Nothing else could explain it. At least Carol was a nice chair, and brought doughnuts.

The one and only bright spot about being an adjunct rather than full faculty, Teddy thought as he took his seat between Bill and Eli at the long conference table, was that he hadn't been expected to show up. Now, he had no excuse.

"Where's Kate?" Teddy murmured to Bill as Carol glanced at her watch and started passing around copies of the agenda.

"Running late. Some anonymous assbutt posted a bunch of threats and comments about her breasts on the student intranet and she's talking to IT and legal."

"Jesus." Teddy growled under his breath, caught in a surge of anger. "Are they going to be able to do anything?"

Bill bent his head closer to reply, his hair flopping down over his brow. He pushed it, his fingers tangling in the dark strands. "I hope so, or Kate's likely to take the campus apart brick by brick. She was livid this morning, and I can't blame her."

Their whispered conversation was drawing eyes and Teddy shut up under a reproving look from Steve. That man could work the wordless 'I'm disappointed in you, son' like no-one else on the planet. Teddy cushioned his chin in his palm and tried to look interested in space allocations. Grad student assignments were three items down on the agenda; he could keep himself awake until then.

Forty-five minutes later and with Jess and Dr. Knight still bickering about the last empty office, Teddy was starting to doubt his resolve. He added a few more lines of shading to the abstractly curlicued doodle in the margin of his notebook, and bit back a sigh.

Bill bumped his arm and Teddy shifted over a little. Bill pressed against him a little more, the muscle of his forearm - and why did he have to keep rolling up his sleeves like that? Unfair. – as distracting as ever. He was scribbling something on Teddy's paper, and Teddy paid rapt attention to the meeting (budget cuts; when had they moved on to budget cuts? Dammit, Altman.) until Bill was done.

If I faked my own death, do you suppose they'd let us leave?

Teddy bit back a smile, and after a minute when he was sure no-one was watching, scribbled back.

depends how good an actor you are. Also, how? Choke on a cruller?

suicide by ballpoint pen?

weak.

Death by papercut?

take too long.

spoilsport.

Then it was time for a vote and Teddy scrambled to peer over Eli's shoulder at his notes to figure out what was going on. There was another note from Bill waiting for him once the voting was done.

Hangman?

Bill hadn't waited for a reply, doodling a little gallows at the bottom of his paper. Teddy glanced down quickly and then away as Bill filled in a long series of dashes, counting them off on his fingers as he went. 26, 27, 28.

Seriously? if this is the magna carta preamble, I will hurt you

One word.

Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious?

The fact that you can spell that from memory terrifies and thrills me more than it should.

E

e e _

A

i hate you

are you conceding?

I

O

Bill flashed him a thousand-watt smile and drew a careful circle just below the arm of the gallows. Teddy scowled.

Ten minutes later, half an agenda item gone, and his poor little hanging guy only missing one foot, Teddy made his final guess.

F

Bill was obviously smug, and it looked too good on him for Teddy to be really annoyed.

So?

m

Oh my GOD you suck.

He underlined 'god' three times, just to be clear.

You wish

Teddy was saved from a really unfortunate, probably entirely too honest reply when he realized that the room had fallen silent. He looked up from the notebook to meet a dozen stares, some more amused than others. His ears flushed hot. Eli was covering his mouth and having a coughing fit.

"Oh, don't let us interrupt," Carol said, her tone syrupy-sweet in that 'you are about to get your ass kicked' kind of way. Teddy flipped the notebook closed and muttered an apology, sinking low in his seat. He held off looking at Bill as long as he could, sneaking a glance a few minutes later when he was reasonably sure that no-one was watching. Bill looked back at him like he knew, and he grinned, and Teddy couldn't find it in him to be embarrassed anymore.

oooOooo

Decent office chairs, it turned out, were less than a hundred bucks, and it seemed a small price to pay out of pocket. Getting the thing back to campus on the bus was slightly more of a pain in the ass than Teddy had really anticipated.

Pepper frowned at him through the office window as he pushed the chair past, and he gave her a jaunty wave. The floor had that slip-sliding just-been-waxed feel and it called to him. He couldn't resist. He ran a couple of steps, then drove his knee into the seat and rode it, as victoriously as Caesar ever rode a chariot, a few triumphant yards down the hall.

Janet was staring as he - and his magnificent steed - slowly coasted to a halt.

For a moment, all was still. Teddy slowly lowered his arms.

The chair spring creaked.

She looked at the chair.

She looked at him.

She didn't blink. Not once.

The weight of the disapproval in that stare was palpable, heavy and thick. Teddy found himself hunching his shoulders a little out of sheer, blessed instinct as he fumbled for his keys.

She was still watching as he unlocked the door. She turned, after a moment, and strode off, muttering something darkly under her breath.

Teddy let out a puff of air and sagged against the chair, fumbled his door open and pushed the thing inside. The triumph, somehow, felt a little hollow.

oooOooo

As noisy as the department lounge tended to get, working in there felt a lot better, some days, than closing himself in his office. Cassie was curled up in a massive armchair with her laptop balanced precariously on her knees. Eli was across from her reading a book. Pepper and Darcy were circling in and out on errands and coffee refills, and even Bill had been through five minutes before, though now he was back out in the hallway talking on his phone. The constant hum of activity was soothing.

Teddy flipped over the assignment he was marking and scribbled the grade in his book. Twelve down, thirty-two to go. Voices behind him made him glance up and return smiles and nods from Carol and Jess as they wandered in.

"I found the rest of those essays," Carol said, continuing a conversation-in-progress. She set her bag down on the couch beside Pepper's friend Tony, who was poking at something on a tablet and only glanced up briefly to acknowledge them. "I was sitting on the floor while I was doing my marking, and Chewie must have dragged them under the couch."

"That's a relief-" Jessica began, but was interrupted.

"And peed on them."

Teddy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, a gesture he assumed wouldn't necessarily be appreciated.

Jessica covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes dancing with repressed mirth. "Oh my god. What can you say to them? 'Sorry, guys; my cat ate your homework'?"

Carol sank down onto the couch beside Tony with a groan. "Oh yeah, laugh. Eating them wouldn't have been nearly so bad."

Tuning out the noise, Teddy skimmed the next paper in his stack. If he spent ten minutes on each one, he could get another four marked before he had to leave for his meeting. He could still manage to leave a thoroughly respectable two or three useful comments on each, as long as he didn't write too much...

He only made it to the first page before he sank his chin into his hand and sighed in disbelief. "Do they think we're stupid?" he asked the room, fully intending it to be a rhetorical question.

Tony looked up and tucked his tablet away. "Who? The dean's office, journal editors, or Finance? The answer is generally 'yes' to all of the above. Unless you're me, of course."

"Shoo, Tony," Pepper suggested mildly, her heels clicking as she crossed the room.

"Does who think we're stupid?" Bill stopped behind Teddy and looked over his shoulder at the stack of papers on the table. Teddy was suddenly acutely aware of his writing (not as neat as it should be) and the red ink dotting his fingertips. "If you're talking about students, the answer is generally 'yes.' What'd they do this time?"

"Cut and paste a Wikipedia article instead of writing the assignment," Teddy answered, frowning at the paper in his hand. "The links are still blue!"

"See, that's just insulting," Bill leaned over to take a closer look and Teddy's breath caught in his throat. Bill either didn't notice or pretended not to, his hand resting lightly on Teddy's shoulder. The heat of it burned through to Teddy's skin, and he imagined that he could feel his pulse beating, right there at the join of their bodies. "You'd think she could at least take the ten seconds to select-all and change the font colour."

"They also think we don't know how to use 'the Google,' and don't realize that the first hit they get will also be the first hit we get." Kate breezed past, mail in her hand. "Or that we won't notice when someone who couldn't differentiate between 'they're,' 'there' and 'their' on the pop quiz can suddenly use 'hegemony' or 'praxis' correctly in a sentence. As if."

"Praxis – wasn't that one of Klingon's moons?" Teddy joked. Bill laughed, squeezed his shoulder before he let go. Teddy smiled, but it quickly faded.

Cassie frowned. "So why do we bother if they're not even trying to learn? And what are they spending all this money for?"

Eli looked up from his book, post-it tabs bristling from the edges of every page. "Because a lot of them aren't here to learn. We've generated a system that requires a specific credential as both a class marker and a weeding-out mechanism, even for jobs that shouldn't need any kind of academic training.

"Anyone who wants to compete for white-collar employment needs a post-secondary degree, whether they're suited for it or not. That leads to thousands of ill-prepared and fundamentally uninterested teenagers trying to check off sixty credits worth of boxes with minimal effort, in order to get a piece of paper and get on with their 'real lives.'

"Ladies and gentlemen," he finished with a flourish, and stabbed his pen at Teddy, "enjoy the fruits of our post-modern status quo."

He flashed a bright smile at Cassie. "Grad students, though; you guys have no excuse."

"And on that cheerful note," Billy drained his coffee and sluing his bag over his shoulder. "I have to go teach. Anyone feel like subbing in on this one for me?" he asked half-seriously.

"What's the topic?" Kate flickered an eyebrow up, halfway through sorting flyers into the trash can.

"Charlemagne and the Carolingian renaissance. Lots of holy wars, technological expansion, and gory deaths."

"Ooh. That's a fun one."

Bill sighed, and hung his head. "If I have fewer than fifteen of them grinning at their crotches while they pretend not to be texting, I'm going to call today a win."

oooOooo

Friday, Friday, Friiiiday- the refrain sang in Teddy's mind like an exultation or a prayer. And not just Friday, but the Friday before the two-day study break, which meant a four-day weekend all to himself. Which meant, realistically, four days for things like laundry and setting up his midterms and trying to get as many lectures prepared as physically possible, but the dream of free time was a beautiful thing.

He flopped down in his chair – oh luxury of luxuries! – and leaned back with a contented sigh. Things were going well. He had settled into a rhythm of classes – prep – research – marking that had taken on its own momentum. He had a plane ticket back to Portland for Christmas, where Aunt Lyra would try her damndest to fatten him up for the return flight. And he was managing not to think about Bill Kaplan as anything but a colleague.

Much.

No more than four or five times a day, anyway, which was a vast improvement.

It would have been fewer than that today, if Bill hadn't left the top button on his shirt undone. He hadn't been able to avoid looking when they'd bumped elbows at the coffee pot, at that ridiculous collarbone and the long line of his neck, the soft divot of skin just behind his jaw that was just begging for Teddy's lips-

Dammit.

Maybe he should take Darcy's advice (god, that phrase filled him with despair and concern) and go out this weekend. He wasn't hard up enough yet to try speed dating, whatever Darcy might threaten, but a drink at a bar wouldn't kill him.

Teddy opened his email. One more check to make sure everything was in order, and then he was out of here. Warp factor five, Mr. Sulu. Engage.

From:

To:

Subject: Unauthorized Materials Purchase

Be advised that your recent purchase of office equipment of type #45A was unauthorized, and cannot be reimbursed from university funds. All purchases must be made through the formal tendering process in order to preserve NYCU's relationships with our preferred suppliers.

As such, the University in general, Purchasing and Facilities Management cannot be held responsible for any liabilities, damages, repairs or other that may result from use of unauthorized equipment while on university property.

In line with this, to waive your rights to insurance claims in this instance and in order to prevent removal of the unauthorized equipment, forms NYCU51-D, #FM-B115 and #PUR891118765 must be filled out in triplicate, and remitted to the Purchasing office before 8 am on Monday, October 15th.

Have a nice day.

The passive-aggressive 'have a nice day' was the crowning touch. Teddy hit 'print' with a long-suffering sigh, and pushed himself to his feet.

"Hey, Darcy," Teddy began as he walked into the office, and she held up a hand to forestall him.

"I know that 'hey.'" Darcy gave him the stink-eye. "That's not a 'go enjoy your bubble bath and glass of wine, Darcy,' hey, that's a 'you will be stuck at the office all night and never see your cat again,' hey."

"You have a cat?" he asked in confusion, and avoided the rest of her comment entirely. Never let it be said that he didn't learn from his mistakes.

"No, but I could. And it would be at home right now crying out 'mommy, why aren't you here? Why are you starving me'? And then I would blame it all on you. So. Why are you here making a life-long enemy of my theoretical cat?"

He passed the email over, settling down on the corner of her desk. She had a handful of brightly-coloured mugs arrayed along her windowsill, and he stole a lollipop out of one of them. "I just got this from Facilities – do you have any idea where I can find all these forms?" He stripped the plastic and shoved the candy between his teeth.

Darcy gave a low whistle. "You must have really ticked off somebody there, tiger. I'll see what I can find." She turned back to her keyboard and typed for a minute, her fingers flying across the keyboard with its faded letters. "They're supposed to post all the forms on the shared server, but do you think that ever happens? No. I think they just enjoy screwing with us. This will take a few minutes. So while I have you captive," she began, and he got a little worried. "Have you got a costume for Luke and Jess' party yet?"

Teddy wrinkled his nose. "The Hallowe'en thing?" he asked around the lollipop stick. "I don't know if I'm going. I've got a ton of work to do."

"Bullshit," Darcy grinned up at him. "You're just in a rut. An anti-social workaholic rut, which, if you don't mind my saying so, is not a good look on you."

"I like my rut. It's cozy." Teddy protested weakly. Bill would probably be going. He couldn't ask about that without exposing more than he wanted to. And the idea of hanging out with Bill's boyfriend at another function was not a pleasant one.

"Everyone goes to this thing. You should have seen Steve and Carol last year. She talked him into this getup from Van Helsing? That supremely shitty vampire movie? I'm pretty sure it was all about the leather pants." And she looked Teddy up and down.

"I'm not wearing leather pants, Darce." Teddy couldn't help but grin.

"No leather pants." She held up her fingers in the Scout's pledge, and he realized with a start that he'd just implicitly agreed to something that he'd had no intention of doing less than a minute ago.

"Trust in Darcy," she smiled again as the printer began spitting out a stack of papers, and Teddy laughed a little nervously. "Darcy will take care of everything."

oooOooo

Grad/fac hadn't been nearly as interesting this time around, but at least the group migration back to the grad house was a constant. He'd briefly debated the wisdom of sliding into the booth next to Bill, considering. But Kate had been poking him in the ribs to get him to keep moving and turning to sit with Tony, Steve and Pepper at the table would have been too obvious, and so.

There he was. There they were, pressed thigh to thigh in the narrow booth. Bill was warm against his side. It would be so easy to lift his arm, to let it rest along the cushion behind Bill's shoulders, to fit them together like the pieces of a puzzle they might have been.

If only Teddy hadn't been so quick to discount Bill's interest, back in August. If only Bill hadn't gone back to his boyfriend. And if wishes were fishes, (one of his mom's favourite hokey old sayings), beggars would eat. Give it up, Teddy. Be grateful for what you have.

Bill laughed at something Eli was saying, his eyes alight with pleasure. Teddy grinned in response, that look in Bill's eyes igniting a similar fire low in his gut. Bill glanced up at the door as it opened, a new group coming in. "Don't look now, but the admincritters have arrived."

There wasn't much you could do with a lead-in like that but look, but the first few through the door didn't look all that different from anyone else on campus. Blond guy, early forties, medium-tall and broad-shouldered. A slim redhead beside him, curly hair and a serene expression.

Tony grinned with unholy glee and elbowed Steve in the side. "Watch out, Riff – here come the Sharks!"

Pepper grimaced. "Tony-"

"We didn't schedule a rumble for tonight, did we?"

Pepper rose from her seat and approached the newcomers, stopped to air-kiss with the redhead as Tony started humming.

Teddy leaned in, resting his elbows in the table. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Bill. "Who are they?"

"Facilities Management. They pretty much run the campus. Or at least keep it from crumbling into ruins. That's Barton and Romanova there; they usually travel as a set."

Romanova; Teddy knew that name. She was the one on the other end of the insurance emails that had taken him the better part of the weekend to sort through. Somehow he expected she'd be older. Meaner-looking.

Whatever else Bill had been about to add was lost when the door swung open again and the last couple of members of the party came inside. First was balding middle-aged guy, followed by a tall black man with an impeccable black suit, a black trench coat to ward off the autumn chill, and an eyepatch strapped around his bald head.

Teddy blinked. Big Guy didn't. He turned, instead, and headed for the bar with his colleagues, stripping off his trench coat and folding it carefully over his arm.

"Nick Fury," Bill supplied the answer for the question Teddy hadn't asked yet. "VP Facilities."

Teddy bent his head closer to Bill's, so that he could speak without being too obviously rude. He caught a hint of Bill's aftershave, something clean and bright, a smell that made him want to nuzzle in and-

"So the eyepatch," Teddy said, trying not to sound entirely strangled by proximity. "Real?"

"No-one knows," Bill replied with a grin, and mischief dancing in his eyes. His glasses had slipped low on his nose and he took them off, dropping them on the table in front of him. They had left little red marks on the sides of his nose, and Teddy had to force himself to stop staring. "And no-one's brave enough to ask."

"He looks like a pirate."

Bill chuckled quietly. "A pirate who got lost in the Matrix, maybe."

"I should ask them about all those forms they made me fill out," Teddy said, sitting back and staring across the room at the group near the bar. "I didn't get a return receipt and there's no way I'm going through all that again."

Tony was on a roll, catcalling Jess and Barton from his table, and Nick Fury glared at him from his post at the bar. Then he glared at the rest of them, just for good measure. Teddy could practically feel the irritation boiling off him.

"Maybe later would be a better bet," Eli suggested, taking in the whole thing with exasperation.

"Would it matter?" Billy said, propping his elbows on the table and waggling his eyebrows dramatically. Teddy chuckled, and he took that as encouragement. "Fury knows all. He is... The Eye," Bill intoned."Piercing all shadows of cloud, and earth, and flesh, and to see you: to pin you under its deadly gaze, naked, immovable."

He lowered his voice in dramatic emphasis as he spoke and Teddy caught himself leaning in to hear him better, his ear close enough to Bill's mouth as he finished that he could feel a hint of breath. He sat up abruptly before he embarrassed himself.

"Billy Kaplan, you nerd," Kate teased with indulgent affection, rejoining them with a fresh pitcher. She refilled Eli's glass as well as her own before she sat down.

"This isn't news," Bill replied cheerfully.

"So if Fury is Sauron," Teddy mused, "would that make Romanova the Witch-Queen of Angmar?" And the look of sheer delight that Billy gave him at the reference was enough to make everything, ever, completely worthwhile.

Bill laughed and shook his head, and his eyes were so warm with approval and pleasure that staring into them was like drowning. "I think she'd make a much better Ungoliant," he suggested instead.

"Who?" Eli frowned at them both. "You guys lost me."

"Ungoliant, giant spider?" Bill made his fingers walk across the table, sort of spider-like. If you squinted. Teddy made a fist and tried to squash it, but Bill darted his hands away. He landed the tips of his fingers on the table again, scrabbled his hand sideways, and Teddy took fresh aim.

Recognition dawned on Eli's face for a moment. "Oh! You mean Shelob." He caught Kate's look and shrugged. "I go to movies."

Bill rolled his eyes and sighed, his distraction just long enough for Teddy to land a gentle fist dead center on the back of his hand. Bill flattened his hand against the table, playing along, then did a reasonable approximation of death throes. Laughter bubbled up inside Teddy and burst out of him, and then Bill was laughing with him (or at him; it was a sign of how right it felt that he didn't care which it was), giddy and ridiculous.

He could spend the rest of his life laughing like this, being understood like this, and it wouldn't be enough. He wanted more than one lifetime, more than one chance to feel like this, to be with him. The understanding hit Teddy like a glass of ice water to the face (in too deep, nothing's happened and I'm already in way too deep) even as he struggled to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed hot and his eyes wet with tears.

Then Bill's laughter died away and he sat upright, grabbed for his glasses and slid them on. Teddy looked up in turn. The rest of the laugh died when he followed Billy's gaze, saw Nate standing in the doorway watching them.

That, then, was the reminder. This would never be his.

"That's my ride," Bill apologized as he stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of the booth. He gave Teddy an apologetic look, and tugged at Kate's ponytail as he slid out past her. "I'll see you guys Monday."

"Night, Bill," Eli nodded, and Kate made a small wave toward Nate, still standing by the door.

Teddy didn't watch him go; he turned back to his beer instead. He'd finish then go home; go home and see what he still had queued up on his DVR, and crash.

He did look up, just once, to see Bill leaving, Nate's hand pressed against his upper back. It was Nate who turned one last time, Nate whose gaze locked with Teddy's, Nate whose eyes narrowed and jaw tightened before he turned away, stepped outside, and let the door swing closed behind them.

oooOooo

For a week or so, throwing himself into work had been a reasonably useful reaction. At least until Eli knocked on his door, grabbed him by the proverbial scruff of the neck and hauled him out to the quad 'to get some sunshine before you die of rickets, dammit.'

It was nice to know that his friends cared.

The steady hit of the football against his hand stung and soothed at the same time, the easy rhythm of the game almost hypnotic. Teddy caught Eli's toss easily, sent it winging back in a lazy spiral that sank into Eli's arms.

"You decided to go after all?" Eli tossed the ball in his hand and threw it back, a clean and precise shot, like everything that Eli did.

"I don't know if I 'decided' as much as 'got steamrolled,' Teddy shrugged, reaching up to pluck the ball out of the air. He jogged back a step and fired it back toward Eli.

"Darcy?"

"Darcy. I think I'm her new project."

"Run," Eli advised with a laugh, and his next throw was hard enough to slap against Teddy's hand. "And whatever you do, don't let her pick your costume."

Teddy took a second to re-wrap his scarf and shove the ends out of the way, his only concession to the weather other than his sweater. "Too late." He shrugged it off like it didn't matter to him one way or the other, but if he had to be honest, he didn't really mind.

Everything was a costume, in its own way; suits and ties on dates, club clothes to make himself look a lot cooler than he'd ever actually felt. Every morning he got up and put on his grownup costume before coming in to work. What was one more in his arsenal, on a day when everyone else would be wearing one too? "She told me she was 'taking care of everything.' What are you going as?"

Eli caught the ball and shrugged back. "Same thing as every year, probably."

"Which is...?"

"Captain America." Eli grinned at Teddy's flash of surprise, and sent the ball back to him at high speed.

"I didn't think you read comics." Teddy ran back over previous conversations in his mind's eye, tried to remember anything Eli might have said.

"I don't," Eli's eyes narrowed and he caught the ball that Teddy fired back. "Historically, comic books have been nothing but straight white male power fantasies. Attempts to incorporate any racial diversity manifest as the worst kinds of pandering, racial and cultural appropriation, or reinforcement of the sad old tropes of the Great White Hope and the Noble Savages. Black characters written by white dudes all end up as the same ludicrous jive-talking Bronx-based stereotypes."

So many arguments, so little time. Teddy resisted the urge to start firing modern examples back and simply cocked his head in confusion. "So – why Captain America?"

Eli's smile widened, bright against the dark brown of his skin. "I just like messing with people."

oooOooo

The next day, Teddy left a bag on Eli's office door. Inside, he'd tucked a handful of trades: Daughters of the Dragon, a couple of issues of Heroes for Hire and the compilation of the last run of Immortal Iron Fist. He stuck a post-it note on the latter that read 'Give these a try.'

A week later, the bag was back on Teddy's door. His comics were inside, along with an article printout and dog-eared copies of War, Politics and Superheroes and Of Comics and Men. The post-it on the cover of the last one read only 'Not bad. Your turn.'

They were pretty good reads.

oooOooo

"It could've been a lot worse," Eli said, and handed Teddy a beer from Luke's fridge. Dr. Cage's house was already mostly full, even this early in the evening, clusters of costumed guests chatting in every corner of the warren of narrow rooms that made up the first floor. Eli hadn't been kidding about his costume, though it was more appliquéd hoodie and jeans than anything involving spandex. "Where's your partner in crime?"

Teddy gestured across the room, to where Darcy was chatting happily with some of the grad students. The pull of the tight black t-shirt across his shoulders was just awkward enough to catch his attention when he moved. The jeans at least were his – Darcy had supplied the rest, including the jacket. He'd refused to let her go near his hair with the pomade, though, despite her threats. "It's not quite what I expected, exactly, but that was my fault for not asking first."

"Sometimes it's better not to know what she's thinking; then at least you have plausible deniability." Eli popped the cap on his beer and tipped it forward to clink the neck against Teddy's. They headed for the living room as Carol and Jess brushed past with smiles and nods.

"I tried to tell Steve that it was a Rocky Horror theme party, but he didn't buy it." Jessica was saying, and Teddy hid a grin.

"You told him what?"

"I really want to see that butt in stockings. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Only a little."

There was more room to move here, and they grabbed a couple of chairs. Teddy turned his around to straddle it, arms resting casually on the back. He was decent at parties; it was easy enough to put on the social smile and small-talk his way through them. Thank god for Eli and his version of the 'who's-who,' though; the running commentary made it easier to keep track.

"I don't think I recognize him," Teddy tipped his beer bottle slightly at a guy across the room in a lab coat and Einstein wig.

"Peter," Eli had to think for a minute before supplying the name. "He's Luke's friend from somewhere; I think he teaches photography at the community college. Nice enough, weird sense of humour."

Steve came in the door then, dressed in WWII vintage, with a woman on his arm. She was in a matching uniform, lips red and hair up in victory rolls. Teddy had definitely never seen Steve with a girl before. He'd had the vaguest suspicion that he and Carol might have a thing, but obviously not so much. Teddy returned Steve's casual wave, and raised an eyebrow at Eli. "Steve has a girlfriend?"

"That's Peggy, Steve's wife," Eli replied. "She's great. I think she's actual military, or something; she's out of town a lot."

"Hey, losers." That voice was familiar, and Teddy's head jerked up in response. If Tom was here, then- but it was Kate at his side, not his brother. Teddy struggled not to let his disappointment show on his face. "You still dragging that same old costume out, Eli?"

"Why mess with tradition?" Eli wasn't biting, nodding a greeting at Kate instead. She was done up all in green, a miniskirt showing off legs that Eli, at least, seemed to be trying really hard not to look at, and wore a little nerf bow slung over her shoulder.

"What are you supposed to be dressed as?" Eli asked Tom, looking him over. It wasn't obvious, whatever it was. Tom looked a lot like he usually did, in a t-shirt and well-cut blazer. Kate beat Tom to the answer.

"He's officially too cool for Hallowe'en." She elbowed Tom lightly in the ribs and he pressed his hand to his heart, then made a big show of straightening his jacket and brushing off his sleeves.

Teddy tuned out of the conversation, scanning the room and the hallway beyond. Maybe Bill had decided not to come. It wasn't like this was any kind of mandatory thing, just a party. He probably had a pile of invitations to other things. He'd lived here most of his life, after all, and would have high school friends and family friends vying for his attention.

Not to mention his boyfriend's social circle, whoever they were.

"Just as we were coming in," Kate was saying, and Teddy dragged his attention back to the other three with a guilty startle. Tom gave him a look that Teddy couldn't quite parse, and ignoring it seemed easier. "She brought Clint, you know, from Facilities? Tony points at him from across the porch and starts being all 'j'accuse!' about 'fraternizing' again. He's going to start a war if he's not careful."

"I thought it already was a war," Eli replied, lifting his bottle to his lips. "Pepper's the only one who can get them do anything."

"That's because Pepper's magical."

That was when Bill passed by the open living room door. Teddy's eyes were drawn to him as though he were magnetic north. Bill was in academic robes, which seemed a bit like a cop-out, considering that eighty percent of the people currently in the house owned a set. He noticed the Gryffindor scarf around Bill's neck half a second later, and that made him smile. Then Nate caught up from behind him, rested his hands too-casually on Bill's hips. A blue glow shone through his shirt that Teddy couldn't quite place for a second.

Right. Arc reactor. With that and the suit- Trust a computer nerd to not only come to a party as a computer nerd, but to find some way to put it over the top. They turned in to the kitchen and vanished from sight.

Teddy straightened in his seat when Bill – just Bill – joined them. The dark robe hung loosely enough around him that it should have obscured his shape. But his hand was wrapped around a glass of wine and the contrast of his fair skin against the dark red of the wine was beautiful, his fingers longer than they had any right to be.

The moment dragged on a beat too long and Teddy stood, nodding at Bill as though he was just a regular guy, just another co-worker. Yeah. He totally pulled that off. "No scar, Potter?" he asked, resisting the temptation to run a finger over Bill's forehead where he'd have expected the makeup to be.

"I'm a generic background extra," Bill said, smiling at Teddy. "I meant to go get one of those latex scar packs, but didn't have the time, and drawing one on with sharpie would have been a bad idea."

"Oh yeah. Class tomorrow would have been interesting, though." He would have gone on, but Bill was studying him, and Teddy pinked a little under the scrutiny.

"Right, so that is the costume I thought it was," Bill pronounced after a second, looking vaguely surprised as well as pleased. "I didn't realize you were into musicals."

"Oh no, another one," Tom groaned, Kate elbowed him, and Teddy was reminded with a start that the other three were still standing there. "What? The sing-along 'Sound of Music' should not be an annual tradition for grown men."

Teddy shrugged, the tips of his ears still warm, and Bill looked so happy about the thought that he hated to burst the bubble. But. "I'm not? Not really. I mean, I know the movie, obviously. But it was Darcy's idea, honestly – she has a Pink Ladies jacket she was dying to wear, and talked me into playing along. I didn't have any better ideas, so."

"It's pretty good," Bill was laughing at him a little, and Teddy found he didn't mind that at all. Then Bill set his wine down on the table beside them and reached for him, running his fingers along the collar of Teddy's shirt. "But here – you have to pop the collar on the jacket to get the look right."

Bill's fingers brushed his neck. It was only half a touch, an accidental skid of skin on skin just below his jaw, but it seared into his flesh like a brand, throbbing in time with his pulse. Teddy breathed deep, lifted his chin to let Bill fuss. He rolled his eyes at Eli good-naturedly, just to show that yeah, this was totally casual. Just a guy helping a friend out. Nothing to see here, etc etc.

Eli was totally buying it, laughing at them both. Tom was looking at something else across the room. Kate, perhaps not.

Bill stepped back to look at his handiwork and was nodding in satisfaction when arms snaked around his waist. He startled. Nate pressed up behind him, locked his arms around Bill, and the smile he turned on Teddy was like a shark's; too wide, too bright, and not an ounce of sincerity in it.

Teddy took an involuntary half-step back, putting a little distance between them before he realized that that would only make things look worse. But Eli, Kate and Tom were right there – he and Bill couldn't have been doing anything wrong. They hadn't been.

"Hey, you." Teddy wanted to hear an edge of disappointment in Bill's voice when he greeted Nate, and maybe he'd heard a trace of one. Bill turned his head when he spoke and Nate took the opportunity to kiss him, just a brush of his lips against Bill's that might have deepened into more if Bill hadn't pulled back again.

It felt like a claiming; marking his territory, like Bill was something that could be claimed, and Teddy felt his hackles rise.

"Nate," Teddy nodded anyway, made his greeting like the rest of them. Nate stepped into the circle, leaving one arm around Bill's waist.

"It's Ben, right?" Nate held out a hand, and when Teddy shook it, squeezed his fingers. It wasn't quite a crush, but it was a warning.

"Ted," Teddy corrected him. He returned the grip, just enough, then let go first.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Sorry about that," Nate replied, another thing that didn't seem to touch his eyes. "The new guy, right? How are you settling in?"

It was a simple question but Teddy found himself bristling. He held his hands still – don't fidget – pulled himself up to his full height (he had a couple of inches on both Bill and Nate, and he was meanly grateful for that) and pasted on a smile of his own. "I'm doing well, thanks; the department's made me feel right at home."

Nate nodded serenely, though Teddy thought he'd seen a challenging flicker in his eyes. "That I can see. These guys taking it easy on you?"

"I wouldn't say that," Teddy slipped his free hand in his pocket, his beer a cool reminder in the other. Nate was a smug little shit, he decided, and gave in to the urge to poke at him, just a little. "But then, where's the fun in 'easy'?"

(Teddy was a bad person, and this was proof).

Nate's eyes narrowed, and Teddy realized belatedly that the others were watching them. Bill was bowstring-tense, bringing his hand to his face like he was going to chew on that thumbnail, then dropping it again to clutch his wineglass.

"That's true," Nate conceded silkily, but his smile had gone thin. "But it's a bit early for that, isn't it? I would think you'd want to take your time to get adjusted. It can be so tempting to come to a new place and start upending the status quo, rather than take your time to comprehend the lay of the land."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand how things lay around here," Teddy cringed inside even as he said it, fully aware that conversation had faded a little behind his back, and Tom was absolutely eating this up. He kept his back straight and his smile calm. "And there's always something to be said for hanging on to tradition. But that doesn't mean there isn't room for change."

"Good luck with that," Nate's reply was immediate, accompanied by a twist of a smile. "The only people I've found to be more resistant to change than academics are bureaucrats, and at least they're honest about it."

A sour look twisted Bill's face, and Teddy heard a thundering rush in his ears. He wanted to get between them, wanted to wipe that smirk off of Nate's face in a primal sort of way. And he realized with a start, at the flash of satisfaction on Nate's face, that that was precisely what he was hoping for.

Goading bastard. And Teddy was walking right into it. Would probably have kept right on walking, even aware, if it hadn't been for-

"That's tarring with a rather wide brush, don't you think?" Kate interjected smoothly, and the toe that nudged the arch of Teddy's foot wasn't there accidentally.

"He's got a point about the rate of change," Eli picked up her tone change and ran with it. "New scholarship and teaching methods can sometimes become accepted practice, but only after they've been poked and prodded and torn to shreds by the old guard."

Teddy drained the last of his beer, using the break in the tension to slam his social mask firmly back into place. "Excuse me," he said, flickering his eyes toward Bill, but Bill was resolutely not meeting his gaze. Fuck. "I'm going to get a refill. Back in a bit."

He managed to extend that promise at least half an hour, the trip back to the kitchen turning into conversations with Kitty about her honors project, with Danny Rand about an article he'd pitched about silk road travelogues, another with Steve about committee work.

Running away was probably about the worst way to try and solve his problems, but for the moment it seemed to be working pretty damned well.

He chatted until the crush and the heat of so many bodies in too tight a space grew overwhelming. Beer in hand, Teddy went looking for a hidey-hole. The screened-in porch out back was the best of all possible worlds, the only signs of life the red glow of embers from a couple of smokers in the back yard. It was cold out here and he hadn't grabbed his jacket, but he'd be fine for a little while. Just until he got his equilibrium back.

Teddy flopped down into a chair in the far back corner of the porch and stared out at the night. He couldn't see any stars here. It wasn't surprising, given the light pollution and the mesh of the bug screen. Not surprising, but a bit disappointing. Maybe this summer he'd buy himself a small tent and go backpacking, go somewhere he could see the stars. There was that campground near Nanticoke that mom had always loved, and the sky there was amazing.

"...I barely see you, and then when we do have an evening off, we spend it with your co-workers. And while we're at it, let's talk about those co-workers."

The door to the porch slammed open and then closed again, the blue glow coming from Nate's arc reactor illuminating the two new bodies on the porch. Teddy should stand up, should say something to let them know he was here. He started to, shifted to set his beer down, but then Bill was talking and he'd already heard too much to make revealing himself anything less than a disaster. Shit.

"How about we not?" Bill shot back, hot on Nate's heels. "Because then we'll have to have the conversation about how you go out of your way to humiliate me in front of them. What the hell was that all about?"

"Altman's a dick. And don't try to deflect this, Billy; this isn't about me. It's about you. And how I never see you. A relationship includes two people, not a guy and his remote control, and another guy and his library."

"My review is this spring, Nate; I only have one paper in the pipeline right now, along with the book." Bill raked his hand through his hair, and pushed his glasses up to sit on top of his head. The frustration was pouring out of him, in his jittery gestures, and the edge in his voice. "I need to be seen supporting the department, and that means showing up at department events. None of this should be a surprise to you! Once I get tenure-"

Nate advanced on him, stepping into Bill's space. Teddy flinched, fought the desperate urge to get in between them, to stop the fight from getting worse, except that revealing his presence would make the situation even worse.

"I thought it was supposed to be once you got the job," Nate said, his voice low and tightly controlled. "And before that, it was once you finished your dissertation. I'm getting sick and tired of you moving the goddamned bar all the time. When do I get you back?"

Bill shook his head and didn't move, his hands balling up into fists in the near-dark. "Right, because I'm doing this on purpose just to avoid you. It's not always about you!" he hissed back. "It's part of the job, Nate. I don't have a choice right now. You know that. With tenure-"

"'Tenure'- I am so fucking tired of that word! It's only different because that's how you've decided to play it. You have to figure out what your priorities are, Billy, because I'm goddamn sick of being the other man in your life," he spat, flattening his hand against Bill's chest and pushing. Bill rocked back on his heels and Teddy surged to his feet, his beer forgotten on the table.

"Hey! Cut that out." Teddy's hands were balled into fists and he forced them to relax, not to go in swinging.

"Oh shit-" Bill began, his eyes wide when he realized they hadn't been alone.

Nate scowled and laughed bitterly. "Is that how you get your jollies, Altman? Listening in on other people's private moments?"

"If you hadn't been fighting the second you stepped out here, I'd have said something sooner," Teddy stepped into the little bit of light seeping through the porch door, not quite face to face with Nate but close enough. "And I can pretend not to listen when it's just words, but you crossed a line."

"Back off, Ted," Billy snapped with anger in hiseyes, and that made Teddy stop for a minute, because why, when Teddy was protecting him, and- And Bill didn't particularly look like he was interested in being protected. "I don't need your help here."

"You heard him, Ted." Nate said, slick and mean. "Back off. We got this."

Bill put his hand against Nate's chest and ducked his head, in a gesture that looked uncomfortably like submission. "Give me a second."

Nate turned and slammed the door open, headed back inside. Bill stood there for a minute, arms folded across his chest and his head low.

"Bill, I-" Teddy just stood there, half in shadow and half in light. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat; was there anything – there had to be something he could say that would fix this, that would take them back in time an hour, to before he'd fucked it all up.

"Don't suppose you have a time turner stashed in your office somewhere?" he managed. His voice came out so quietly that he wasn't sure at all that Bill had heard it.

One corner of Bill's mouth crooked up in a hint of a smile, and Teddy closed his eyes against the wave of relief. He wasn't forgiven, not yet, but at least Bill didn't seem like he was planning on never speaking to him again.

"No," Bill said, and shook his head. "I don't." He looked up but still didn't meet Teddy's eyes. "Look, just. Just forget about it. I can handle Nate, and I don't need saving." His voice picked up speed as he spoke, and Teddy's relief crumbled away to dust. "You don't know anything about any of this; what gives you the right to go poking in, and-"

"I thought he was going to hurt you, Bill – he pushed you. Anyone would have done the same-"

"No, they wouldn't. Because anyone else would have said something earlier, instead of sitting there eavesdropping like a creep." Bill lashed out, and the words stung worse than any push or fist might have done. "Just back off."

"I'm sorry-" Teddy started to say, but Bill turned and went inside again without another look.

Teddy waited another two minutes before he moved at all.

By the time he returned to the living room, Bill and Nate were circulating, Nate chatting away with Eli. Bill was quiet, just cradling a wineglass in his hands and staring at nothing in particular.

When Nate caught sight of him, his lip curled in smug satisfaction. Ted turned away.

He needed to escape, he needed quiet, and his own four walls. He needed space to think. It took a few minutes to hunt Luke and Jess down and thank them. He was out the door before he remembered that he hadn't said goodbye to Darcy. He stared up at the front door from the front steps, at the light shining out through the living room windows, the bursts of music and laughter, muffled by the glass and the door.

He couldn't go back inside.

Teddy shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged quickly down the porch stairs, before he could change his mind, before he could talk himself into going back in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and he walked down the street, and left the party behind.

End notes:

The works that Eli left for Teddy were:

Di Paolo, Marc. War, Politics and Superheroes: Ethics and Propaganda in Comics and Film. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2011.

Gabilliet, Jean-Paul, Bart Beaty, and Nick Nguyen. Of comics and men: a cultural history of American comic books. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2010.

Singer, Marc. "Black Skins" and White Masks: Comic Books and the Secret of Race. African American Review, Vol. 36, No. 1 (Spring, 2002), pp. 107-119. Published by: St. Louis University. Article Stable URL: stable/2903369

These are all great pieces of scholarship, and any of them would make a good jumping off point for getting into some of the more recent academic work on comics as a medium. Singer's a bit thick with the jargon, but the Gabilliet book is fantastic.

For a fascinating discussion on the current state of academic scholarship as it relates to comics (and with a lengthy, lengthy list of reviewed works and authors to look into), check out:

Smith, Greg M., Tom Andrae, Scott Bukatman, and Thomas LaMarre. 2011. "Surveying the World of Contemporary Comics Scholarship: A Conversation". Cinema Journal. 50, no. 3: 135-147.