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patricianandclerk · 6 years

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For the prompt request! honestly just something that explores Drumknott’s sexuality, and also just my boy failing in love despite not knowing what emotions™️ are

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Patrician & Clerk ‘verse

Warning for one homophobic slur.

The first time he knew there was something, he was ten.

He was sitting outside the UnseenUniversity Library, sipping at a cup of sweet tea, scented with flowers[1].It was a very hot day, the summer sun not quite reaching the desperate levelsof heat it would as the summer went onward, but still more than hot enough. Hewas sitting quietly beside the Librarian, who had once been a very pleasant mannamed Horace Worblehat, and was now an orangutan.

Young Drumknott had grown used to this.

The man who stepped down the path was from oneof the supply shops in Sator Square, and he’d been called up to meet the Archchancellor.It had obviously been an upsetting meeting, because he looked hot, his skin glisteningwith sweat, and Drumknott watched as he dragged his shirt over his head, throwingit over one shoulder.

He was a beefy man, used to hauling cratesof coal and wood upon his shoulders, and Drumknott stared for a long moment atthe expanse of his chest and his belly, at the thick muscle in his arms.

He felt hot, and dizzy, and for somereason, ashamed, so he looked very intently into his teacup.

“Ook?” the Librarian asked.

“No, thank you,” Drumknott answered, notlooking at the man as he sauntered back down the path, and not looking at theLibrarian himself, offering a plate of sandwiches. “I’m not hungry.”

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

The first time he knew he was different, hewas twelve.

It was a cool day in February, and this wastheir lunch hour. Drumknott was eating quietly, although the other boysinsisted on making conversation with him. They often did, regardless of howplain it was that he didn’t care for their chatter.

“Why don’t you board with us?” asked SmeltKipper, a blond boy with floppy hair and freckles on his nose. He was a veryexcitable thing, Drumknott thought, with no small amount of disapproval, andoften entertained himself, running back and forth, kicking up a fuss aboutalmost nothing. “Your scholarship does include boarding, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Drumknott said softly. “Merely thatI have responsibilities at home, at the grocer’s.”

Graham Shed, a boy with dark hair andbrilliantly white teeth, leaned forward, across the table. He was one of theoldest in their year, but had taken his thirteenth birthday with quiet grace,and he had a very dangerous way about him, one that made Drumknott’s stomachtwist in his belly, and made his skin feel hot and tight under his clothes.

Graham Shed was the sort of boy that toldother boys what to do, and smiled when they listened, but never actuallyinvolved himself in their activities. He’d just watch, and smile, and gowithout punishment when they got caught.

“You,Drumknott,” Shed said in a slow, deliberate voice, pointing at him with hisfork, “talk like an old man.”

“Well,” Drumknott replied dryly. “They dosay you are what you eat.”

The other boys laugh and snicker, louderthan he’d expected them to, and Drumknott hesitated as Shed raised hiseyebrows, his lips quirking up at their edges. He had very soft-looking lips –Drumknott remembered them even years later, as they filled out. Shed always hadlips like cherries, and he remembered them, even as the rest of his face fadedto a blur.

“I don’t think that sounded like you meantit to sound,” Shed murmured.

“How does it sound?” Drumknott demanded,feeling the creeping heat burn as it drew up the back of his neck, glowing fromhis cheeks.

“It sounds like a sex thing,” said Kipper, laughing. “And you can’t have sex with a man.”

“Let alone an old one,” Shed said.

Can’tyou? Drumknott almost asked, before he stoppedhimself. He’d heard the other boys talking about sex, and he himself had read about it, had evenexamined some of the more explicit volumes in the Library, wherein adultsupervision was sorely lacking. He was accustomed to his fellow students at LinkstonAcademy being uneducated on some matters, or being… Not sensible.

But they sounded so certain, like it was obvious. Couldn’t you? Couldn’t men touchother men, want other men, kiss other men, have sex with other men? He had simply assumed… They were all laughing.

They laughed as if it was so ridiculous.

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone,” Drumknottsaid. “No one at all.”

“You will,” Shed said, with confidence.

Drumknott sipped at his tea.

It was too hot: it burned his tongue.

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

The first time he knew it really mattered, he was fourteen.

“You may kiss me, if you like,” Marie Vestensaid charitably.

They had been speaking for thirty minutes,now: Marie had approached him as he had been waiting for the line for the toffeeapples to go down somewhat, idly reading his book, and making polite conversation.They were walking together, and he had been rather perplexed at a girl inAssassins’ Guild uniform coming over to speak with him for much of the time,but now…

Marie Vesten was the sort of well-bredyoung girl that seemed to feel that speaking with her was quite the privilege,and that one ought take advantage of the opportunity if she felt like bestowingit upon you. Drumknott, thus far, was not a fan. She talked a lot, and Drumknotthad been listening politely, but…

There hadn’t yet been an opportunity to getaway with her.

One did not seem forthcoming.

“Oh,” Drumknott said. “Ah… Thank you,Marie, for the offer, but I think not.”

Marie raised her chin slightly, giving hima scowl. They were standing near to the apple bobbing barrels, and Drumknottlooked over them in some disgust. He liked apples well enough, but not enoughto throw his face into a bowl of water and grab for one with his teeth –particularly not one that had likely already been tongued and bitten at by adozen mouths before your own.

It was unhygienic.

“Why not?” Marie asked. She was a tall girl,taller than Drumknott, with a willowy strength to her body, and Drumknott couldsee the dagger in the holster at her thigh, underneath a skirt that had beenhiked up somewhat above, Drumknott suspected, regulation length. He did not pointout the blade or the skirt length. Neither seemed appropriate to comment upon.

“I hardly think it proper,” Drumknott said.“We’ve only just met, after all.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Marie demanded.

“Of course,” Drumknott said, and when shestared at him, he added hurriedly, “You’ve got very nice, er…” By Io, what was meant to be attractiveabout women? He’d heard the other boys at the Academy talk about them, especiallyafter lights out, when everyone was in bed, but… “Lovely hair,” he said,somewhat lamely.

“Fine,” Marie said, crossing her armstightly over her chest as they approached one of the barrels. “Shall we give ita try?”

“Oh, no,” Drumknott said. “I don’t like applebobbing.”

“You don’t like anything, seems like,” Marie muttered.

“I like things,” Drumknott protested.

“Just not girls or kissing or applebobbing?”

“Not at all,” Drumknott said. “I’m sure I’d—”

She grabbed him by the hair, and he chokedon water as his face was pressed into the barrel, his knees hitting the floor.He struggled for a moment, trying to grab at her hip, her leg, to get her tolet him go, but she wouldn’t, so he grasped for the dagger in its holster – if hemoved quickly, he could—

He gasped in a breath, falling back ontohis hands as Marie was dragged away from him, and he looked up at the face ofLord Downey, one of the Asssassins’ Guild schoolmasters.

Drumknott coughed, hard.

“Faggot,”Marie spat, and Drumknott leaned back, the word hitting him like a slap in theface, his lips parting as he stared at her. He felt the cold water drippingdown the back of his neck, into his clothes, and he almost wished he hadn’t cometo the fair at all – all he’d wanted was one of the stupid toffee apples, and to listen to all the cheer and music, that wasall, that was all.

“Miss Vesten,” he said hoarsely, breathingheavily, “you are very impolite.”

“I believe I agree,” Lord Downey saiddarkly, and Drumknott didn’t hear what he said as they walked away, Downeyleaning down to talk into Marie’s ear.

He got to his feet, and awkwardly brushedhimself off. No one had noticed them, except Downey.

He’d been very lucky, he supposed. He didn’tfeel lucky.

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

The first time he kissed anotherman, he was seventeen, and it was a revelation.

A handful of women had tried tokiss him in his lifetime, mistaking his politeness or his tendency to quietly listento someone else talk as shyness, orattraction. Once or twice, they had dragged him into cupboards or alcoves, tryingto wrap their arms around his neck, trying to touch him.

Each time, he grasped them firmlyby the hips, and pushed them neatly aside, before getting on with the business ofthe day.

He wasn’t going to push this oneaway.

Flyer Kytes was another clerk,and he led Drumknott with confidence into an alleyway outside of the Guild ofClerks and Secretaries. When hekissed Drumknott, the world felt right and proper, like the very Disc wasturning on an axis, and Drumknott gasped against his mouth, kissed him back. Hewas clumsy and desperate and eager, but so was Flyer Kytes, and they kissed andkissed and kissed, until Drumknottfelt dizzy with it, until he felt he would faint—

And then Flyer Kytes drew away,with a little grin on his face, and waved Drumknott goodbye before he ran offto work.

Yes.

Yes, that was…

That was something.

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

The first time he loved, it ached.

The first time he loved, it was agony.

The first time he loved was the last time, too.

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

“I,” Drumknott said, and Vetinari looked down at himquizzically, even as his hands came up to cup his cheeks, his hands so warm. Ithad been awful, the past few weeks: Vetinari had been struck down by somestupid scheme from one of the more idiotic members of the UU student body, andhad been in the Infirmary for days on end.

Now, they were home,back in the Patrician’s Palace, the door of Vetinari’s bedroom closed behindthem, and Drumknott could scarcely stop himself from burying his face in thePatrician’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his narrow waist.

“Oh,” Vetinari said softly. “It’s alright, Rufus, it’salright: I’m here, I’m quite safe.”

“I know,” Drumknott said, and he grasped tightly atVetinari’s robe, pressing closer to him. “I…” I love you, he wanted to say. He didn’t know how: his mouth wouldnot form around the traitorous words. He could scarcely bring himself to say hislordship’s name: to confess love, hecouldn’t, he couldn’t… “I prayed for you.”

There was a tense silence.

Drumknott waited for the retort, the angry response.That would be easier, he thought, that the desperate feeling he felt, thetangled mess of emotion in his chest, the want to drag the Patrician into hisbed and cling to him there, forever, forever and ever and—

“Thank you,” Vetinari said softly. “That must havebeen… difficult.”

“You hate religion,” Drumknott said, slightlyawkwardly, still itching for Vetinari to fight with him, to bite at him.

“Perhaps so,” Vetinari replied. “But I don’t hate you.And your religion is… important, toyou. If you prayed for me, it’s a sign of care. Of… love.”

Drumknott let out a desperate, ugly noise, and hefell to his knees on the hardwood planks of the bedroom floor. Immediately, Vetinarigrasped at his arms, drawing him over to the bed and laying him down, clutchingDrumknott in his lap, and Drumknott shuddered as he tried not to cry, as hetried to measure himself—

And then Vetinari kissed him. It was a gentlemovement, just Vetinari’s lips brushing against his own, chaste and soft.

Drumknott wept, and Vetinari held him.

No words passed between them.

None were needed.

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

Later, Drumknott straddled Vetinari’s hips, his faceburied against the hard panel of Vetinari’s chest. Vetinari had made him washhis hair, to remove the unguent he wore in it, and was now dragging his fingerspleasantly through the half-dry locks.

“When did you first know?” Drumknott asked, mumbled.“That you liked men?”

“I was only a young man,” Vetinari said. “I saw twomen fencing – friends of Madam’s, I believe. There was something in that. It…called to me, spoke to me. I stayed awake at night thinking about it, until Ihad decided that I liked men as other boys liked women. Yourself?”

“There were little moments,” Drumknott said. “Smallrevelations.”

“Tell me?” Vetinari asked, his voice low and quiet…It was a lover’s voice, warm and affectionate. Drumknott’s stomach twisted, notat all unpleasantly, and he wriggled in his place, trying to press himselfcloser.

He told him.

Vetinari listened.

[1] It was good, he was reliably informed by his aunt, a witch, forbone development.

#discworld #rufus drumknott #havelock vetinari #fanfic #Anomymous #t; answered asks #as defined by dictionary

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