Chapter Text
Adam Young is in the middle of grading papers when Pepper walks into the office with a particular expression on her face that conveys a great deal to those who know how translate it. As her best friend of the past twenty years and boyfriend of the last three he’s the foremost expert in the field, fluent in the various Moods of Pepper. In a single glance he sees “Why am I surrounded by idiots” in the faint line between her eyebrows, a perverse “I am surrounded by idiots, this is going to be so much fun” in the curl of one lip corner, and “Adam, you are in for not just a treat, but an entire cornucopia of entertaining idiocy” in the flash of her eyes.
He grins and before she can say anything he asks, “Should I run down to vending machine and grab a bag of popcorn? I can use the microwave in the lounge to heat it up.”
Pepper gives this the careful consideration it deserves before shaking her head, “This is too good for stale popcorn.”
He straightens up in his seat, lays his pen down deliberately, and laces his fingers together, “Don’t keep me in suspense, Pips.”
The curl of Pepper’s lip threatens to turn into a full-on smile at the nickname* and she gets right to it, “So you know Johnson, in Dr Fell’s intro class.”
“Greasy Johnson?” Adam asks.
“The very same,” Pepper confirms,** “At any rate, I’m in Dr Fell’s office minding my own business when he comes in twisting his hands together and with the most pained look on his face. So you know what my first thought is, obviously.”
“He’s come to make a supplication to you in hopes you’ll convince Dr Fell to rethink his grade.”
“Just so,” Pepper nods, pausing so both of them can take a moment to marvel at the amusing ironies of life. Grade grubbers are a common hazard to most TA’s, students viewing them as more accessible and approachable than the lofty professors. Pepper, however, spends the beginnings of every semester in a state of unbothered bliss because at first glance she is far more intimidating than soft, fluffy, and often absent-minded Dr Fell. Unfortunately by midterm students have cottoned on to the fact that as kind and sympathetic as Dr Fell is—he will never give a student a failing grade for anything less than plagiarism, and even then will usually give them an opportunity to redo the work***—he is absolutely not a pushover. He is in fact, under his kindly and bumbling exterior, a bit of a bastard. Then and only then will the truly desperate student crawl on their belly to Pepper.
“So I say to him, ‘Johnson, I’m sorry, but Dr Fell has made his decision, you had weeks to ask for an extension or help’ and he blurts out ‘it’s…it’s not about my grade! It’s about…it’s about something Dr Fell did. A personal thing. Maybe even…unethical.’ This is when I straighten up and put on my best glare face. Because Dr Fell is a fucking angel, and if a student is going to accuse him of being unethical he’d better have a good reason or he’s not leaving the office alive.”
Adam snorts, “And Crowley will help you dispose of the remains.”
At the mention of Crowley Pepper’s eyes light up like a fireworks. With barely contained glee Pepper says, “Speaking of Crowley, that’s what Johnson needed to tell me about. Apparently he tried to visit Dr Fell outside of posted office hours because he hates being alive. The door was open a crack, and when he peaked inside he saw,” she pauses for affect, and when she continues speaking her voice has dropped an octave in imitation of her least favorite student, “‘Dr Crowley was in Dr Fell’s lap, and they were kissing. With tongues.’”
Adam’s automatic response is a sympathetic wave of revulsion—while like any self-respecting bisexual he can acknowledge that objectively Crowley is attractive he doesn’t want to think of him in sexual situations any more than he wants to think of his parents in the same state—before he starts getting offended on his mentor’s behalf. “Really? Homophobia? It’s the year of our lord two thousand and bloody nineteen, tell him to stop snooping where he doesn’t belong if he can’t take seeing two men kiss.”
The glee that lights up Pepper’s eyes is more akin to the flash from an atomic bomb than fireworks, “That was my thought as well. But before I could say anything Johnson says, ‘Dr Fell is married! I just think it’s a bit hypocritical of him to lecture us about ethics and things when he’s…when he’s having an affair.’”
Adam stares at her blankly, “What.”
Pepper continues with eyes as bright as the skies above White Sands, New Mexico circa 1945, “Johnson has discovered that Dr Fell and Dr Crowley are engaged in a sordid affair.”
Adam continues his blank stare, “Is he thick? I mean, Dr Fell blathers on about Crowley all the time.” It is actually a widely known fact that the best way for a student who has not done the reading to sidetrack class discussion is to mention the professor’s husband. And it’s not just for the lazy; Dr Fell’s stories about his husband’s courtship are not only sweet but fascinating. Ask him about their first date and he’ll eventually end up giving an impromptu hour-long lecture on the heyday of La Scala Theatre in central London, its notorious all-nighters, and the history of underground cinema.
“No,” Pepper says, wiggling a bit like Dog when Adam has a stick he wants thrown, “Dr Fell blathers constantly about his husband Anthony, who is so smart, and such a softie, so romantic, et cetera.”
Adam is still staring at her, but his face is no longer blank. It’s morphing into something else, a glee that is practically demonic. “Johnson doesn’t know?”
“Oh Adam,” Pepper says, “None of them know. Apparently Johnson told some other students and there’s now a savage debate amongst the undies on whether Johnson is a liar, or if he’s telling the truth then Dr Fell must’ve gotten a divorce but hasn’t told anyone.”
“What did you say? Did you clue him in?” Adam asks in a delighted whisper.
She gives him a withering look, “I blinked back tears, and said in a trembling voice that Dr Fell is a good man, and that Johnson should keep things to himself. That he doesn’t know all the details of his professor’s personal life, and I may’ve hinted that evil Dr Crowley seduced poor Dr Fell and broke his family apart. Just didn’t say the seduction was thirty years ago and by ‘family’ I meant his dickbag cultist siblings.”
“I’m so in love with you,” Adam says fervently, “Make out with me, please.”
“Raincheck?” Pepper says with genuine disappointment, “We both have too much grading to do, maybe when you get home tonight? Shirtless making out, even.”
“Deal,” Adam says, “Are you going to tell Dr Fell?”
“Of course not,” Pepper says, and Adam falls even more in love with her, “Are you going to tell Crowley?”
“Of course not,” Adam echoes, “In fact the next time a student I know is also taking one of Dr Fell’s classes comes in I might let something slip about how angry I am at Crowley, and when they ask why say no reason, something my girlfriend—who is Dr Fell’s TA, by the by—told me, but it’s personal and I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Pepper sighs, “I’m going to leave now before shirtless making out happens anyway. You’re perfect, I love you.” She kisses her fingertips then presses them against Adam’s lips before heading back to the English building.
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*Out of the seven billion human beings on this planet there are less than a dozen who know that Pepper’s full name is Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. Of that group only four can reference it and keep their internal organs internal—her mums, Dr Fell, and Adam himself. Since they started regularly spending time together naked Adam has entered the highly exclusive category of human that can reference her legal names and not only remain un-disembowled but also make her smile with affection. He is very aware of the honor and typically saves it for special occasions such as their anniversary or when she is about to lay down some amazing gossip.
**There is no middle ground for a student to be notable to the standard university TA; they are either utterly brilliant or utterly deserving of monikers such as “Greasy Johnson”.
***The exception to this rule was the memorable occasion a student plagiarized one of Dr Fell’s own works.
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Adam Young has at least two nicknames at the university that he’s aware of, even if no one calls him either one to his face. Both require a bit of explanation.
The first is “Snake Charmer” and has to do with Adam’s relationship with Crowley. For this to make sense one must be aware that one of Crowley’s nicknames is “snake eyes”. Or simply “snake” for those students who haven’t experienced Crowley’s favorite intimidation tactic of lowering his tinted glasses down his nose and glaring. It’s a very effective intimidation tactic to those unfamiliar with bilateral coloboma and have no idea why their professor’s pupils look like they’ve melted in snakelike slits. Crowley’s eyes being an unusual shade of amber that looks almost yellow in certain lights only adds to the effect. The Glare is only one tool in the arsenal he uses to carefully cultivate a respectful fear in all his students. The undergrads are all terrified of Crowley whether they will admit to it or not. The grad students are above any pretense and therefore perfectly willing to admit they find him even more terrifying.
Adam never has, even back to his early days as a freshman, when was the only student who could get away with calling him just “Crowley” rather than Dr Crowley. The speculation as to what Adam did to earn this favoritism veers from time to time into the salacious. As revolting as the implication is Adam doesn’t bother to address these rumors with the truth because it contains a fair bit of baggage that he prefers not to discuss with anyone but his gang of closest friends. Besides, as an agent of chaos Adam can’t help but enjoy the odd salacious rumor. Crowley is oblivious to this nickname as well as the accompanying whispers and Adam does his best to keep it that way; he’d find them far more disturbing than Adam did.
Crowley does know about Adam’s other nickname and is ridiculously proud of him for earning it. The students hadn’t given it to him; Adam had a two members of the faculty to thank for this one. He earned this appellation entirely on his own merits. Part of it is due to his looks—for starters he is very handsome, if a little on the short side. He has wide blue eyes, defined cheekbones, and a mouth made for smiles. Since he became a grad student with more important things to do than shave he’s grown an impressive beard that paired with his longish hair makes him look more than bit like white Jesus. It’s enough to lull everyone into a false sense of security that makes finding out that Adam is not someone to be fucked with all the more terrifying. Especially faculty members who view students as a species only a little above common dirt.
Crowley doesn’t get along with those sorts of professors, the type to act as though interacting with students by actually teaching is somehow beneath them. For all Crowley’s bluster he cares about the students; cares about them deeply. Cares that they understand and love his subject as much as he does, cares that they walk out of his classroom with a lifelong passion and not just a box of facts to be forgotten once they’ve graduated. It’s why even though the majority of students find him terrifying his classes are still some of the most popular and they always have a waiting list a dozen students long.*
The thing is, Adam is…protective of Crowley.
The thing is that Crowley, despite his fearsome reputation amongst the students, is a complete and utter pushover. He hates dealing with the politics involved in a university department, hates anything that takes him out of the lab or classroom. This makes it easy for certain of his colleagues to take advantage of him. Or at least it did until Adam came around.
It goes back to his other nickname and the baggage he doesn’t like thinking about. Because a long time ago a little boy found out his real parents weren’t actually his biological parents. In fact he found out in the most unpleasant of ways—namely said bio parents showing up out of the blue trying to exert some claim over him. Which wouldn’t have been that terrible if the biologicals hadn’t been complete knob heads. Things got very ugly for a bit until a former associate of the biologicals—a Dr AJ Crowley—stepped in. Crowley knew where the metaphorical (or at least Adam hoped metaphorical) bodies were buried and was able to persuade Adam’s birth family to let him alone. Crowley stayed in contact right up until Adam began university, and now the two of them are in the process of evolving from mentor/student to close friends.
So anyone who wants to bother Crowley—student, faculty, admin, even God Herself—has to get through Adam Young first. Those who live to tell the tale do so in hushed whispers and now Dr Hastur, Dr Ligur, and the rest of their cronies refer to Adam as “the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness.” Or just “the Antichrist” for short.
Still, said protectiveness doesn’t stand in the way of Adam not only messing with Crowley but also deriving a great deal of amusement from it. During Crowley’s Tuesday lecture Adam has to bite his lip constantly as he looks at the faces of the students. Rather than abject terror or fascination there’s a lot of frosty judgement and disapproving glares. Crowley is oblivious or indifferent to his class’s mood; he only cares when students are too obvious about playing on their phones or sleeping. It would never enter his head that his students had come to the conclusion that he is an evil home wrecker taking advantage of a happily married man.
Adam understands how it happened. Not only does Crowley never volunteer anything about his personal life—Adam doesn’t think most of the students even realize he’s gay, much less in a relationship at all—he is superficially as different from Dr Fell as it is possible for two people to be. Crowley is tall, lean, and dresses more like an aging rockstar than an astronomy professor. His wardrobe is exclusively tight black clothing paired with dark glasses indoors.** Crowley is constantly changing his hair—it was down past his shoulders when Adam first met him, then it spent time swept back in a little man bun, and it’s currently in a gravity-defying quiff. It’s still a deep shade of reddish brown although Adam suspects that part of that comes from a bottle these days since Crowley is nearing the big five-oh.
Dr Fell is quick to mention his personal life in general and will go on tangents about his husband in particular.*** If a person was to hear said tangents with no prior knowledge of Crowley they’d picture someone not unlike Dr Fell himself—sweet and nerdy and cheerful, who has a list of favorite poems he can recite from memory. Physically Dr Fell is Crowley’s opposite—pleasantly plump, with a middle-aged spread that testifies to his lifelong love of food and wine. He dresses like the Platonic ideal of an English Professor, in tweeds and tartans and bowties and suit jackets a decade out of fashion. When Adam was a boy Dr Fell’s hair was so blond it was almost white, and these days age has removed the “almost”. He still wears it the same way he did back in those days—short, fluffy curls like a halo around his head. Give him some oversized feet and he could star in the reboot of The Hobbit.
Go into their respective offices and there are even more differences. Crowley’s is sterile, clean, and scrupulously organized. He has no personal effects on display, his desk his bare except for a sleek iMac that looks like it cost the earth. Dr Fell’s office—which Adam sees whenever he visits Pepper—is pleasantly cluttered. Books cover every available surface and his computer is a monster that is probably older than Adam and mostly gathers dust. Adam thinks there are a few photos of Dr Fell with Crowley on his desk but if they’re in a spot a student could see they’ve been swallowed up by books.
Dr Fell wears his wedding band on the the ring finger of his left hand like a normal person, Crowley wears his on a chain around his neck and tucked under his shirt. Crowley has his glare, Dr Fell has his easy smiles and blushes. Crowley is a professor of astronomy and physics, Dr Fell is a professor of English literature. Hardest of hard sciences fraternizing with the humanities. Just isn’t done. Most universities they wouldn’t have much overlap in students but their school’s Core program is taught by professors from a variety of disciplines, each year with a different focus. It’s usually foisted off on the lowly adjuncts but Crowley and Dr Fell try to take at least one session a year. When they’re not able to they will at least pop into their colleague’s class for guest lectures, so they’re familiar faces amongst students from almost all majors.
Just not familiar enough for students to realize that Dr Fell’s beloved husband is Dr Crowley.
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*The ridiculously tight clothing Crowley wore also had a great deal of influence on his classes’ popularity as well. Adam might find it uncomfortable to think of Crowley that way but most students didn’t have the same problem; and in fact the terror Crowley inspired actually enhanced this.
**Adam knows the glasses are for medical reasons—Crowley’s coloboma doesn’t affect his vision much but it does make him sensitive to light and prone to migraines. He also knows that even if it’s for medical reasons Crowley loves them terms of sheer aesthetics and is happy to have an excuse to wear them indoors.
*** Adam learned more about Crowley when he took Dr Fell’s core class as an undergrad than he’d learned in more than a decade’s association. It had annoyed Crowley to no end, and he bemoaned that Adam would never respect and fear him now. Dr Fell just pointed out that nothing he said or didn’t say would ever have an effect on that.
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