Fanfic: Obligations (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Obligations
Author: Avarice
Rating: PG
Pairing: Fox/Collin
Spoilers: -
Summary: Collin goes home for Easter.
Word Count: 3159
Date First Posted: 24-04-2003
Date Revised: 26-05-2011
Beta: Tink.
Awards: -
Notes: In a mirror to Hearth And Home for Fox, Collin's little jaunts home are very much forced. This was the first appearance of Collin's parents, before they appeared in FH in any way, shape or form. In fact, the LJ version will have different names, as their given names were changed just prior to their first actual appearance in the comic. For accuracy to canon, my revision has included their names being updated to the correct ones. What just amused me, though, was finding all the references to 'Benny' and changing them to 'Jerry'... get it? Haha. This also marks a reference to the friendship beads that cropped up in the Fox and Collin LJs, as well as many a strip, being worn by Fox and Collin. In rereading FH I found a strip from 2004 where Jerry is very much on the same tangent:
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ

The bed was cold. Cold and half-empty. Collin rolled over and pulled the covers up to his neck in an attempt to sleep some more, but it was no use; he was awake.

Awake and alone.

There was no warm body to snuggle against. No hot breath on the back of his neck. No rhythmic sound of inhaling and exhaling, and the occasional light snore that he secretly couldn't help thinking sounded cute.

No chest to put his ear against and listen to a strong, slow heartbeat.

No arms to randomly tighten around him.

No gravelly half-asleep voice in his ear.

No Fox-smell.

No Fox.

Oh, and no morning sex.

Collin sighed and rolled again to lie flat on his back and stare at the ceiling. The clock next to his bed said it was just before 7am on April 20. Easter Sunday.

He could already hear activity behind his closed door. His mother and father rushing around, preparing for the all important Easter Sunday sermon. Collin shut his eyes. He didn't want to go to church, but that was the whole reason he was here.

"One day," he whispered to himself softly, "just one day."

Collin had arrived Saturday afternoon, having been picked up from the dorm. It was a short visit home, just overnight for him to attend the service and then back again by evening. His parents’ had asked for him to stay the extra day, but Collin had made the excuse of an essay he desperately needed to finish on Monday, ready for class returning on Tuesday.

He'd spent a quiet day with Fox before packing and waiting downstairs to be picked up. His boyfriend would probably go to his own parents' place for the night. He knew Fox had an intense dislike of staying in the dorm alone.

The blond grimaced. What he wouldn't have given to be at the Maharassas, curled up with Fox under old Scooby Doo sheets, still asleep.

But it was no use thinking about that. He was there and Fox was not, and it was going to have to be dealt with.

He could handle one day.

There was a staccato rap on his door.

"Collin, time to get up. You don't want to make us late," his mother said in a slightly harried but still smooth voice. Collin's eyes opened slowly. Time to get up.

***

"There you are," Betsy Sri'Vastra commented as she applied a blush-toned lipstick to her mouth. "Go eat something before we leave." She shooed the half-dressed Collin into the kitchen. Collin took a piece of toast that had just popped out of the toaster and put it in his mouth as he did up the last buttons on the white shirt.

Collin's hair was out of its usual style, having been slicked back away from his forehead. They had already had a discussion about the blue stripe in his hair. There was not enough time to bleach it out again, even if Collin had chosen to make things easy -- and he had not. That left two options: wearing a hat, or gelling it back to camouflage the stripe. The hat too conspicuous, she had decided on gelling.

Collin wore the navy pants from the suit he'd had for the last few years as his 'Sunday best' and tucked the white shirt into them. The single-breasted jacket -- made out of some fabric that looked smooth but actually chafed him -- lay neatly over the back of the sofa.

His mother finished applying her makeup with precision and turned to give him the once-over.

Betsy Sri'Vastra was a slender woman. Large pale blue eyes were set amongst fine-boned delicate features. Her dirty ash blonde hair had been bleached to a white-blonde for as long as Collin could remember. It fell about her shoulders in a neat and manageable style.

Her eyes roved over her son, smoothing out tiny wrinkles in the shirt, making sure the seams sat on his shoulders neatly. Collin twitched slightly as her thumb brushed a sensitive spot between his neck and left shoulder.

It was actually a mark left by Fox's teeth. He'd bitten him while they lay together in bed on Friday night. "That's so you don't forget," he'd said. Collin had heard the unsaid 'where you belong' as clearly as if Fox had actually spoken.

Betsy ran her hands down Collin's collar and felt the row of bumps around his neck. Her fingers dipped into the shirt and pulled the beaded necklace into view before Collin could stop her.

"What's this?" she asked her son.

"A necklace," Collin replied evenly. But it wasn't just a necklace to him. It was a gift from Fox's elder sister, Fatima. She'd brought matching bead necklaces for her brother and him back from Africa with her. His was made up of blue beads accented with black. The Swahili word for 'journey' was painstakingly carved into the bead that rested on his throat.

Betsy's forehead was marred by a frown. "You can't wear this. It isn't appropriate for the pastor's son to wear. And to Sunday church, of all places!"

"No-one can see it," Collin said futilely, defeated on the subject already.

"Why must you argue with me, Collin?" her voice was wounded. "Look at me, please?" The blond reluctantly raised his head to meet her eyes. "I'm not purposely being cruel to you. I'm your mother, and I do know what's best in matters such as these."

Collin stood there for a long moment before raising his hands slowly to undo the clasp at the back.

Them - 1. Collin - 0.

His mother smiled and kissed his cheek in such a way as to not smear her makeup. Collin sat down to put his shoes on, slipping the pile of beads into his trouser pocket.

"Oh dear no, where are your dress shoes?" Betsy exclaimed as she watched him tie the laces of his sneakers.

"They don't fit any more," Collin lied.

Betsy pursed her lips in an aggrieved expression she never would have made if she'd been thinking about the wrinkles it might deepen around her mouth. His sneakers were quite dark... it wasn't that obvious unless you looked directly at them.

"Fine," she relented in a slightly tight voice. "Just don't draw attention to your feet. And definitely don't point them out to your father."

One-all.

He stood and his mother threaded the matching navy blue tie with a white stripe around his neck and underneath the collar.

"I'll take care of that," Jerry Sri'Vastra said as he entered the room and took over from his wife. He towered over Collin, large hands working the fabric into the desired knot.

Jerry was a good few inches over six feet, dark brown hair and eyes, with broad shoulders and just the hint of the beginnings of a paunch around his belly. Collin had decided a long time ago that his father wasn't exactly handsome, but his face had a charm to it that people seemed to like and respond to. Handy, given his occupation.

"Did you do anything on Good Friday, Collin?" Jerry asked as he looped the tie. Collin thought back to his Friday. Back to spending the entire day in bed snuggling with his best friend, and doing various other things his father would consider highly inappropriate especially for the day of the crucifixion of Christ.

"I studied," he replied instead.

"It would have been nice for you to attend church, but studying is acceptable. As a matter of fact, I did want to have a word with you about that." Collin looked up at his father through his eyebrows. Jerry continued. "I want to make sure you're in the right sort of environment to continue your education. You should be in a place with a very serious academic leaning. If that means getting a small apartment near college by yourself, we would help. Or even getting reassigned to another dorm room, I can call your Dean to organise something."

Collin stared up at his father, face blank, pushing him to get to the actual point of his line of discussion. Mr Sri'Vastra bit, dropping his phony pretenses.

"I don't like you living with that Indian boy," he said bluntly. "He is not a good influence on you. He's uncouth and not the sort of person I would expect you to waste time with. I say this because I'm your father and do know what's best for you."

Jerry stepped back to peruse Collin's appearance and also meet his son's eyes. "I want you to consider moving out. Please say you'll think seriously about it."

"Yes, sir," the blond answered civilly.

"Promise me?" he pressed.

"I promise," Collin ground out through a tense jaw.

It was a tune Collin had heard much of his life. And he had thought about it seriously before, about what it would be like without Fox, especially now.

It had been the worst 0.019 seconds of his life.

His father nodded and handed Collin the blue jacket, which he put on. Glancing at his wife and son both formally dressed for the occasion, Jerry Sri'Vastra smiled his best congregational smile.

"Let's go to church."

***

Collin sat next to his mother in the front row. His father had been talking for over an hour and showed no signs of stopping. Over the years Collin had found the perfect spot to focus on while whomever was at the pew droned on about God or Jesus or whatever.

On the back wall and beneath a semi-elaborate stained glass window of a cross were two small glass windows. They afforded a view of the blue sky outside. As boring as it was to sit and watch white clouds drift past in those two tiny spaces, it was far better than listening to whomever was speaking. It was a tiny escape, as well as keeping his eye-line up and towards the front, making it look like he was actually paying attention.

"And now let us pray." The pastor along with everyone else lowered his head in a prayer. Collin dropped his chin to his chest, hands coming together not in the attitude of prayer, but the fingers of his right hand slipping into the cuff of his left, rubbing his necklace beads fondly. He'd wrapped it twice around his wrist in the car like a bracelet, and had kept it tucked firmly around his wrist.

The service lasted for another thirty-seven minutes before it finally came to an end. Collin stood, relieved, and moved to walk outside. Betsy stopped him, slipping her arm into his and smiling professionally at the parishioners walking past.

"Where are you going?" she asked in a low voice, managing to keep that perfect smile on her face.

"Out for some air," Collin replied.

"No, don't go out there right now, they'll be smoking. Filthy habit. You won't get any fresh air."

Collin sighed, that being one of the reasons he wanted to go out, even if he couldn't have smoked himself. He sighed as Betsy led him away from the doors and back into the church to stand beside Jerry as he shook hands with members of the congregation.

With the advent of warmer weather, the luncheon after the service was being set up outside. Men were unfolding tables and women brought out plates of food and bowls of punch.

Collin became his parents' talking point. They never let him out of their sight. He either had his father's hand slapping his shoulder as Jerry told someone "This is my college man," whereupon he was required to parrot his subjects and the grades in each; or his mother linked arms with him and chattered to other women about her son's single status. He couldn't decide which was more humiliating.

His mother gestured to him at one stage while he was reluctantly standing at his father's side. Eager to escape the discussion between Jerry and a parishioner about the role of God in politics, he walked over immediately. And promptly wished he hadn't.

Betsy stood there with a young woman. She had mouse-brown hair that fell in curls midway down her back, a freckled nose, large hazel eyes and a floral patterned dress. She reeked of new blood.

"Collin, come closer." Betsy pulled the blond by his arm towards her. "This is Angela Hamrey, our new Sunday School teacher from Georgia. Isn't she pretty?" Collin stared blankly. Betsy coughed, embarrassed and displeased at his reaction. "Angela took over our class in January. She finished high school last year."

"I've heard a lot about you, Collin," Angela said in her soft southern accent, vaguely reminiscent of Fox's footballer friend, Travis.

"Great," Collin said, dully.

"Why don't you show Angela where to get some punch?" she gestured to a refreshments table. Collin looked past the table and to the open door no more than a few steps away from it.

"Alright," the blond agreed. Betsy's mouth widened in a large smile.

"Go ahead, then," she beamed, pleased at his agreeability. It earned him the privilege of squeezing out from underneath her thumb for a few moments. Collin walked towards the drink table steadily, Angela following.

Collin took the ladle and poured some of the orange/pink punch into a plastic cup. In a moment of whimsy he sniffed it as he raised it to his mouth, but unfortunately, church wasn't the sort of place where it was spiked. Maybe if Fox had been around... The thought made him smile and sigh at the same time.

A polite cough to his right shoulder made him turn slightly. Angela looked hopefully at the punch. Collin rolled his eyes and gave her the cup he'd held, pouring himself another. Taking a sip and without a backwards glance, he slipped outside.

He couldn't act surprised when she joined him outside and sat on the concrete stairs next to him. They sat in silence.

"Your mom's nice," Angela commented after a long pause, cradling the cup in her hands. Collin snorted into the plastic as he drank, nearly spilling punch down the front of his shirt. Angela frowned slightly in confusion, not understanding. She tried again.

"I'm new here, and I don't really know where to go yet. Your m-- I was told that you might know...?"

"You've been here for four months already and you don't know where to go?" Collin asked bluntly.

Angela smiled, abashed. "Ok, little white lie. I just thought maybe we could go somewhere together. I'd love for you to show me around."

"You wouldn't like the places I go."

She gave him another nice smile. "How do you know unless we try?"

Collin shrugged. "We don't try, and keep the mystery."

She laughed, thinking he was making a joke. "You know, I was told you were funny. Nice, too."

Collin shook his head. "Lady, have you been lied to."

"I don't think I've been lied to," she said, venturing to brush her fingers lightly over the hand propping him up. His knuckles whitened. "Funny, nice, and a beautiful set of eyes."

She was slightly put off when Collin threw back his head and laughed. It wasn't a hugely pleasant laugh. There was a note of the hysterical to it. He gave her a large smile that would have also been pleasant if he hadn't looked so damned condescending. "Now that's not fair, you didn't tell me you were funny, too."

The brunette was lost. Certainly the physical description matched up, but his attitude was nothing like the 'shy and introverted' boy his mother had described. "Are you ok?"

"You know, I bet you're really nice. You probably have a great personality," Collin said, almost unexpectedly. If the words had been said any other way, they might have sounded halfway complimentary. But from Collin, they just seemed patronising. "Even so, that doesn't change the fact that I'm not interested, and in all likelihood will never be. Sorry you had to waste your time and everything." He stood and threw his empty cup into the garden. Angela seemed flustered and quite confused.

"Will uh... I see you next Sunday?"

When hell freezes over, Collin thought. "I don't think so. My weekends are pretty busy," he said aloud, a bemused little smirk curling his lips. With that, he strode back inside, intent on finding his parents. He'd had enough.

***

Collin found his father first, talking to Mrs Stacey and her son, Terrence. "What is it?" Jerry asked when he'd finished with them.

"I have to get back," Collin said, curbing the automatic impulse to call his dorm 'home'. "I have that paper due on Tuesday," he lied.

Jerry frowned. "What is it?" Betsy asked as she came to stand with them.

"I've got to get back to finish that essay," Collin reiterated.

Betsy's frown matched her husband's. "I thought you might stay for dinner... maybe even spend the night and go back early tomorrow morning. You don't come and visit us, this is the only chance I get to see you."

"It's due so soon. If I get a bad mark it will bring my grade point average down."

This was enough to give both of them pause. His parents looked at each other, both not happy with the situation that had presented itself. They talked together in low voices before acquiescing to leave soon.

Almost an hour later, the Sri'Vastras actually made a move to leave. Collin was quiet in the car ride back, blocking out the sounds of chatter from the front seat. Once there, he stripped out of the suit and changed back into jeans and a shirt. The gel washed out of his hair and his possessions were collected all inside of ten minutes.

"You got ready quickly," Betsy commented, not happy.

"It's an important essay," Collin replied, deadpan.

With that, the discussion was over.

Collin stared out the window most of the ride home. He watched the scenery change. It seemed as though it got friendlier as they got closer to the campus; their video store, their pizza place, their arcade...

The silver car pulled up outside of his dorm building. Collin did his best not to leap out of the vehicle. Betsy wound down the window, and her son knew what was expected. He leant through and pecked her on the cheek quickly.

"Goodbye, Collin. I wish you'd call and visit more often."

"I get busy here a lot," he replied, affecting a shrug.

Jerry fixed his son with a penetrating gaze. "I want you to remember what you promised," he said. Collin nodded mutely, promising himself to remember nothing. With nothing left to say, the tinted window rolled up and the car pulled away. He didn't wait for it to get a block away before walking quickly into the dorm.

The elevator creaked a greeting as he got in and stabbed the third floor button. Collin walked down to the end of the hall and dumped his bag at the doorway. The tarnished room number couldn't have looked any sweeter if it were made out of sugar. Collin's shoulders slumped in relief as he put his key in the door and turned it slowly.

Home sweet home.

~finis