A few nights before the start of the semester found the three of us flopped on the living room floor watching a Lifetime movie. "I told you guys she was going to die," Jackson said, kicking his feet in the air like a kindergartner. "It was obvious as soon as he bumped into her outside of the hospital."

"I thought the point of that scene was that he finally asked her for coffee after stalking her for three months," Tim said, chin propped on his fists.

"Yeah, it was, but the hospital was a clue."

"I don't understand how he can be in love with her when they've only been dating for two days," I said, nudging Jackson's feet with mine. He smiled and twisted our legs together.

"I think the three months where he was sniffing her dirty napkins was sort of the probationary period, so now they can just skip all that stuff and get straight to the love part," Tim mumbled thoughtfully. It was clear that he was actually into the plot.

I made a face at Jackson, who hid his chuckle behind his hand. We were just into each other.

"Seeing as she's going to kick it and I'm not one for unhappy endings, I think you should take me on a date," Jackson said suddenly.

"A date?" I said, my heart picking up its pace. That was new. "Like, um, like we're together?"

"I'm going to ignore the offensive implication of that statement and say 'yes,'" Jackson said, scowling lightly.

"Oh, shit. Yeah, no—I mean, I didn't mean we weren't together but, er, are we together?"

Tim barked out a laugh, "I keep wondering when you're going to grow out of your cluelessness, Henley, but it just never happens."

"Shut up, jackass. I just don't want to push anybody into anything they don't want," I defended, cheeks heating.

Jackson scoffed and rolled to face me, propping his cheek on his palm. "I seem to have forgotten to bring an engraved invitation, but Henley, let's be official, okay? Be mine."

"Yeah, okay," I said, grinning widely and yanking him forward to plant one on him.

Tim groaned exaggeratedly. "Seriously, you two. Can you make it through a half-hour without mauling each other? God. Go on your stupid date so I can watch Rebecca die in peace."

I clambered up to my feet and pulled Jackson up beside me, "Come on, let's leave the man to his angst." I twined his fingers with mine and tugged him towards my bedroom.

Once there, he pulled away and wagged a finger at me, "Ah ah, I recognize that look in your eyes Mr. Young. But I'll have you know that I don't give it up that easily. Take me out and then we'll talk." His smile was dazzling as I shrugged out of my ratty tee-shirt and into a black button-down.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked, grinning back.

His smiled turned mischievous, "Well, I have an idea, but I don't think you'll like it much. And depending on what mood you're in right now, it might seem incredibly insensitive."

He had my attention. I crossed my arms and quirked a brow for him to continue. His eyes darkened and he swallowed, "It'd help if you didn't have to look so goddamn sexy all the time. You make it hard for a guy to ever come up for air."

"Your plan, Mr. Hart?" I said, circling around him like I was evaluating my prey. I swung in close enough to be a whisper of a touch. He shuddered.

His voice was noticeably huskier when he said, "Take me to Vibrations."

I stiffened, but he caught me by the wrist and pinned me to the wall, thrusting his knee between my thighs. "Before you take that leap, Henley, listen to me. There's only one gay club in town. And I want to dance with you. I want people to see me with you. I want you." He loosened his grip on my wrists and cupped my face, "It's not about him. We're not about him. Are we?"

I shook my head automatically, "No." He looked like he'd expected more of a fight, and honestly, I'd expected more of one. Maybe it was a testament to how over Riley I really was, but I couldn't see anything wrong with showing off this man who was now, most officially, mine. "Jackson, can I take you dancing?"

He smiled brightly, "Why yes, you certainly can."


When we got there, the club was already full of thrusting bodies. Just like last time, it made my blood swim hotly. Unlike last time, though, Jackson pulled me straight to the dance floor and hooked his arms over my shoulders, hands hanging limp behind my head. No games here.

He looked a little uncertain, so I gripped his hips and pulled him close, finding the rhythm of the song and swaying us to it. Smiling, he ducked his head to press against my jaw and murmured, "Didn't take you for a dancer."

"Could say the same about you," I chuckled into his hair, rocking my hips into his. He groaned beautifully.

"You're just full of surprises," he gasped, thrusting back.

The song switched to something faster. Something hotter. Something dirtier.

I spun him around so that my chest was to his back and splayed my fingers over his lower stomach, guiding him back against me further.

Maybe it was because the song was so filthy and pulsing that I brushed my knuckles across the front of his jeans. Maybe it was purely accidental. Maybe it was just because I felt like it.

In any case, his head fell back against my shoulder with a hiss. The room was spinning and I felt wanton with need. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I had never done anything like this.

The music pounded through the club, and I could feel the impact as it fell onto Jackson's chest and through him into me. I swept my hand over him again and he ground back against me.

"Jesus," I whispered into his ear, "You're so sexy."

He turned his head to capture my lips in a searing kiss. "What are you going to do about it?" He said, thrusting himself against my wandering palm.

It was my turn to gasp, "Here?"

I felt him laugh, or maybe that was a tremble, I didn't have the clarity of thought to figure it out. "Everybody else is doing it," he said finally.

And even though I couldn't tear my eyes away from him to test the truth of this statement, I took his word for it and opened my hand, cupping his erection through his jeans. "Ah," he sighed, letting his eyes fall shut, baring his neck for me.

I gripped more firmly, stroking him through the fabric of his pants which didn't give as much as it should. I ached to feel him without the layers between us. His hips bucked as my fingers shakily undid the button of his jeans, sliding my hand past the cinched band of his boxers and then, oh, just there.

His body shook and I swept my thumb over his head and he was already leaking with need. He tugged his shirt down over my wrist to try and shield himself from view. "Not an exhibitionist?" I murmured into his ear, running my teeth along its shell.

"Public indecency," he ground out, jaw clenched as I sped up my rhythm. "Ah, god. Henley."

Even though we were in a room full of grinding, twisting bodies, I felt more confident than I ever had. "Do you even know the things I want to do to you right now?" I said huskily, pressing my erection against him. He pressed back against me and my vision blurred. "How much I wish I was inside you?"

He shuddered violently and came into my hand, collapsing against me.

Quickly—certainly too fast for someone who'd just finished—he whirled around and pressed his lips to my ear. "Henley, you're not the only one who wants that."

My knees buckled and I clutched onto his shoulders. "Really?"

He laughed, smile curving against my skin, "Do you need me to beg you for it?"

My cock twitched and I knew he could feel it. God, since when had I had so many kinks?

"Oh," he said, voice dropping, "you like that idea don't you?" He backed me up against a wall and looked at me almost casually as he buttoned up his jeans.

And then, in an ungodly way, he brought my hand to his mouth and started licking it clean. "Oh my god." I moaned as he drew two fingers into his mouth, sucking gently and flicking is tongue between them. Making sure I could catch glimpses of his teeth and tongue as he licked himself off of me.

"Henley," he murmured, releasing my hand in favor of drawing my face towards his. His mouth opened for my tongue to plunge in, tasting him. "I want to go back to your apartment now."

I looked at him blankly. Leave? Now? Stop touching him? That wasn't possible. "Please," he whined into my ear, "Henley, I need you."

"You have me," I said automatically.

"No. I mean I need you. Inside me. I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Now. Please."

My cheeks stung with lust and my tongue felt thick in my mouth. How long had I wanted this? Weeks? Years? Forever. "Let's go." I said, ushering him through the thrumming crowd.


We stumbled into my room, hastily tearing at our clothes. It was all going too fast for me to really think about anything until we tumbled back onto the mattress and he pulled me on top of him, grinding against me.

"Henley, please," he said, spreading his thighs and pulling me closer.

"Are you sure?" I managed, already sliding my erection between his legs, and if how good this felt was any indication, the real thing was going to be almost too much to bear. "It'll hurt. I-I mean I know how to help with that a little, but it will really hurt at first."

My libido was cursing at my self-sabotage. But no, I was going to make this good for him. It was about him. Not me. Not me. Not me but he was smiling and hooking his ankles around my hips, and I didn't know if I'd be able to stop if I tried. "Yeah, I know. Still," and I nearly came as he grabbed my hand and coated my index finger with a sheen of spit, "let's give it a go, huh?"

I nodded dumbly, and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft against mine, but we were both anxious and harder than ever before. "Now," he whined, and I didn't regret for one minute that he'd found (created?) my begging kink.

Blindly, I reached for the lube, coating my fingers in it, "It'll hurt less if you turn over," I mumbled, somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded, "I want—I mean, I think it will be better for me to be able to see you." His eyes were wide and sweet and I was dizzy with everything I felt for him in that moment.

"Yeah, okay," I said, kissing him deeply.

I kept my eyes trained carefully on his as I pushed one finger into him. His eyes narrowed slightly and his face flushed. A sound I couldn't name fluttered out between his parted lips. "Okay?" I said, afraid to move, to breathe.

He smiled, coaching me as much as I was him, and nodded, "Better than that."

I curled my finger, stretching him slightly, searching for the spot inside that would make him go weak. He tipped his head back as I brushed past it, "Oh," he whispered.

Taking that moment of pleasure as a distraction, I pushed another finger inside, and his moan was tinged with pain. I leaned down to kiss him soothingly. He started to relax and I scissored my fingers, stretching him, pushing more confidently against that bundle of nerves.

He was quivering under me as I worked in a third finger. Slow down, slow down, it's his first time, but he said, "Oh my god, yes, please, I'm ready Henley. I want you now."

I coated my erection with lube, trying hard to touch as little as possible. It was all too much, having him under me this way, begging for me. "You have to tell me," I mumbled, pulling his heels to rest on my shoulders, "you have to tell me if you need me to stop, and I—"

"Now, Henley," he moaned, reaching down to circle his hand around me and guiding me towards him.

Jesus Christ. His eyes flashed bravely. As slowly as I could manage, I pushed inside him, seeing stars at the hot tight slickness of him. I let myself revel in it for a moment before opening my eyes to check on him.

His teeth were clenched and his whole chest was flushed. His eyes were squeezed shut in a wince and my hands fluttered to stroke his face calmingly. "Shit," he said finally, "you weren't kidding about the pain thing."

I pushed his sweaty hair from his forehead, "Shh, sweetheart, I know. Do you want me to stop?" Please, God, no.

He shook his head, "No just, just give me a second, to—" he twisted his hips experimentally, drawing me in further. I gasped at the friction.

"It helps if you push back onto me. Ride it out." I said, resisting with everything I had the urge to thrust into him.

"Okay," he said, voice shaking a little. I took that as an invitation and pushed carefully into him. His eyes fell shut again and his neck flushed darker, "Oh," he gasped, surprised.

I stilled, "Alright?"

His eyes were on mine again, dark with lust. I shuddered. "Do that again," he said huskily.

No arguing there. I thrust into him, deeper this time, and he cried out as I hit his prostate. "Oh, god," he moaned.

I started thrusting faster, and harder, one hand clenched in the sheets, the other moving to fist Jackson's erection. A string of curses tumbled out of his swollen lips. "Henley," he said, voice full of awe.

And I could feel it, too. The deep, rushing first-time sensitivity. I gasped as he clenched around me, coming over our stomachs. Those spasms were enough to send me over the edge.

As I toppled down from my high, I opened my eyes to find Jackson staring at me intensely. "You're so beautiful," he murmured in explanation, reaching for me.

I pulled out of him and curled him to me to kiss him. "How do you feel?" I asked, stroking his back, his hair, his face. He was still so responsive to my touch and he trembled against me.

"Fine, I mean, well better than fine. I feel—" he broke off, kissed my cheek, and let his head fall back against the pillow, "sleepy," he said finally.

I chuckled and stretched out beside him, hooking an arm over his waist. He curled to face me, kissing me gently. "How was it for you?" He asked, and I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"Amazing," I said honestly. He smiled widely. Then he yawned and his eyelids drooped. "Get some sleep," I said, tucking him under my chin.

"Oh, and Henley," he said sleepily, lips brushing against my sweaty neck, "I liked the 'sweetheart.' A lot. Just so you know."

My heart fluttered embarrassingly and I tried to cover it up with a laugh, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Mmm," he said, and then his breathing evened out and his body melted more fully into mine.


I woke up on the last morning of Christmas break and rolled out from underneath Jackson to pad to the kitchen. Tim was at the kitchen table, munching cheerfully on a bowl of cereal and reading the newspaper.

"Have a good night?" He asked, lips quirking slightly at the side.

"Very, thanks," I said, cuffing him on the back of the head. "Did we wake you?"

He made gagged in jest, but said, "Nah, I had my headphones on." I poured myself a bowl and plunked down across from him, "So, Henley finally got himself laid."

I laughed, too relaxed to feign anger, "Guess so. How was your night, by the way?"

"Oh, fantastic. The movie had a sequel."

I squinted, "Thought she was going to die."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Jackson said fondly, apparently having wandered in. I smiled and pulled out the chair beside me.

"She did die," Tim said. "The second one took place in heaven."

Jackson let out a massive bark of laughter and I thought, not for the first time in the last few days, that things were alright.


It was probably that false sense of security that got me into trouble the next day.

First day of classes was always semi-unpleasant and stress-inspiring, but it had been exponentially worse since I started teaching. Every semester, as part of my G.A. duties, I had to teach a bunch of snot-nosed undergrads an introduction to anthropology course.

I tried to remind myself that my boyfriend was currently a snot-nosed undergrad and that they weren't all that bad, but to no avail.

And so it was with resignation that I stomped across campus towards my fate.

The classroom was in the basement, which made everything that much worse because it was so dreary and felt like it was stuck in some indeterminable past era where students recited Latin and were struck with rulers or something. I sighed and started scribbling my contact information on the board.

After checking to make sure that I'd brought my syllabi and attendance sheet, I ducked behind the computer to wait out the last few minutes before class in relative peace.

At 11:00 am precisely, I stood and introduced myself. "I trust you're all here for Intro to Ant 100? If not, now's the time to escape." That got a few chuckles from some eager girls in the crowd. I fought back an eye-roll. "Alright, I'm Henley Young. Call me Henley. I don't have a Ph.D. yet so unless you're an ass-kisser, don't bother calling me Dr. Young.

"Right now, I'm going to call roll and then, in a very unexpected move, I'm going to hand out your syllabus. Lemme know if you go by something different than what's on my roll-sheet, okay?"

I started the call, glancing up to put faces to names, but realizing that there was no way I'd learn these kids until they'd been here a few weeks.

"Risa Harman," I said, smiling at a pudgy brunette in the front row. She blushed.

"Jackson Hart," I said, and then dropped my pen. Shit.

"Here," he answered cheekily, nestled in the back corner with a grin. I must have scowled at him because a couple of shocked looking students turned around to look at him, too. He just shrugged and then—quick and barely there—he winked.

I swallowed.

Well, there was nothing for it now. If I could just get through the rest of roll, things would be fine. Then syllabi, then shoo the little shits out of here and—oh god, I was dating one of those little shits.

Even I couldn't help but smile as that. It was kind of hilarious, after all.

Class ended quickly, and my students filed out of the room until only Jackson was left, shuffling from foot to foot in front of my desk. I stood and came to stand in front of him. "How did we not know about this before hand?" He said, laughing nervously.

I shrugged, not being able to stop myself from reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes. "Guess we were a little busy."

He choked out a laugh, and clenched his fists at his sides. "I swear if I didn't have a class in ten minutes I'd bend you over that desk right now," He ground out.

My knees felt weak, but my mouth took over to say, "That's exactly why you've got to switch sections. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he said, frowning. "Too bad, too, cuz you are the sexiest professor I've ever had. Do you even know how hot you are up there?"

"I wasn't even teaching anything, I was just reading the syllabus," I said, slightly embarrassed.

"I know," he whined, "just my fucking luck that I'll have to miss it when you actually start in on the course material."

I shrugged, "Well, we can postpone our relationship for the semester if you really want to see me in action that badly."

He shook his head quickly, "No way, I'll have the drop-form by this afternoon." He swooped in for a quick kiss to the side of my mouth, "Gotta run, professor." And for a brief moment, he pressed himself hotly against me, breathing into my ear, tempering it with a low moan. But then he was halfway across the room, smirking.

"You little shit," I growled fondly, laughing somewhat hysterically. Wondering again how someone like him wanted someone like me.


There was a knock at my door and I scowled. Jesus. Couldn't these undergrads read their syllabus? I didn't have office hours for another hour and a half. I considered not answering, but guilt caught up with me. Still, it was a little strange that there was a student looking for me after the first day of class.

I swung open the door in what I hoped to be a foreboding manner and was shocked at what I saw. "Jackson? Hi, come in."

He smiled and closed the door behind him. "Hello, professor," he said, sitting in the chair I had positioned for students.

I rolled my eyes, "First of all, I'm not a professor, I'm a GA. Second, you're not going to be in my class anymore so I'm not even your GA."

"But you are mine," He said easily, smirk quirking his lips. I couldn't help my smile as I nodded. "So," he said, pulling a slip of paper out from his bag and setting it down on my desk, "as soon as you sign this transfer sheet, I'm no longer your student."

I grabbed a pen from the cup on my desk and bent to sign the form but Jackson blocked me with a hand splayed out over the signature line. I looked up in question. "Here's the thing," he said, blushing slightly but jaw set in determination.

"Jackson, you know you can't stay in my class."

He waved his hand, "Yeah, yeah, I know. That's not what I—" he broke off to clear his throat and dropped my gaze. When he looked back up, lust was clear in his eyes. I swallowed as he came around the desk towards me, keeping his hand on the transfer form.

With a light push, he toppled me back into my desk chair and pressed his palms into the armrests, caging me. I shot a glance at the door, noticing it was locked. I looked back at Jackson, "Did you—?" He nodded, dropping to his knees gracefully and making quick work of the button of my slacks. "Jackson!" I squeaked, happy—for the first time ever—that there were no windows in this closet of an office.

Already though, he was easing me out past my boxers and wrapping his cool hand around my quickly-stiffening cock. "Yes Professor?" he asked innocently, sliding his fingers lightly along my erection. I couldn't help but throw my head back and moan softly when he took me in his mouth for the first time ever, swirling his tongue around my head.

"Oh," I said, winded, "you want—I mean, do you have some kind of—ah—teacher fantasy thing?"

He knelt back and I groaned with the loss of contact. "Would have thought that was obvious," he said, smiling uncertainly.

"Oh," I said dumbly, blinking. He started to move away, blush creeping up past his collar. "Oh, god, no. Jackson don't—um, I don't want you to stop, just—sorry, I—uh..." I trailed off, chest still heaving with arousal.

He looked up at me, lust and nerves battling for dominance in his stare, "What do you want me to do?"

"Um, just, uh—what you were doing," I said, gesturing towards my raging hard-on.

He smiled prettily, settling more comfortably between my thighs. "No," he explained, breath gusting out over my sensitive skin, "I mean you have to tell me exactly what you want me to do. I've never done this before. Teach me."

My vision blurred, "Oh god."

He laughed, trailing kisses along my inner thigh. Licking at the juncture between my hip and groin. I moaned. "Um, okay. I—shit, I'm no good at this."

Jackson 'tsk'ed me, "Not so. You're wickedly good at this."

I felt a little bit of pride blossom in my chest and nearly laughed at how stupid it was to be proud of my apparent blowjob prowess. "Still," I said weakly, "I don't know how to explain—I don't know how to teach you."

"Tell me what you do to me," he said, fingers dancing up and down my cock. I shuddered. There was a heat building up from my chest and rising to well up behind my eyes. Everything was blurry with wanting.

I took a gulp of air and tried to think enough to be able to open my mouth and form sentences. "There's—on the underside if you," I swallowed, "run your tongue along it." I broke off, hoping he'd understand what I meant.

And he did. First with the flat of his tongue, hard and sure, and then with the clever tip a little softer, teasing. "A+," I murmured.

"Next lesson?" he said, laughing lightly.

"If you—if you're ready you can, uh—"

"Just tell me what you want, Professor." Jackson said huskily.

"Take me in your mouth." He did, cheeks hollowing with suction. My eyes fluttered closed briefly. "Use your tongue." He set quickly to work with a moan that jolted through me. "And that, keep, um, it feels good if you—" he hummed, deliberately this time. I trembled under him, "Yes, that."

His head bobbed up and down enthusiastically, tongue drawing curses out of my mouth. I bit down on the noise, knowing there were other offices pressed against mine, and even though the walls were stone, I didn't trust their sound-proofing abilities.

Still, I threw caution to the wind as his tongue lapped at my weeping head, and barked "Look at me." Surprised, lust-filled brown eyes snapped up to meet mine and I took him in—hollowed cheeks, lips stretched taut around me. The site of it had me tightening familiarly, seconds away from coming. I pushed at him frantically, unable to form words. His eyes widened but sparked with passion as he clutched my hips determinedly as I came into the back of his throat.

I collapsed back against my chair, breathing heavily as he lapped at me, cleaning me completely. "I'm sorry," I murmured, drawing him up onto my lap, "I tried to warn you."

He nodded, smiling broadly, "I know, I wanted to." I kissed him fiercely, tasting myself on his tongue, finding it hard not to fall right back into dizzying arousal. "So," he said, somewhat nervously, "did I pass?"

I tugged his earlobe between my teeth and he shivered. "With extra credit, even," I said.

His laugh was somewhere between a chuckle and a moan as I pressed the heel of my hand between his legs. His head fell back against my shoulder. "I don't usually do this for students, but you seem to be exceptionally bright," I murmured into his ear, slipping my hand under his waistband to grasp his erection tightly.

He moaned and thrust up into my fingers. "Oh," he said throatily, "don't worry, I won't tell anyone." I slid my thumb over his head and he hissed, "Wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation."

I sped up my pumping and we both fell silent, save for Jackson's shaky moans. Soon, he stiffened and came over my hand, fluttering back down to rest fully against me with a sigh. "I'm going to give you a really good teacher evaluation," he said, twisting his body so he could kiss me.

I laughed and wrapped my arms tightly around him, pressing my face into the back of his neck. "Jesus, Jackson, this has got to be the best first-day-of-classes ever."

"Guess you've never had a student so determined before," he mumbled, reaching for the box of tissues on the desk to clean himself-and my hand-off.

I clutched a pen shakily and signed his transfer sheet with a flourish, "Ah, but you're no longer my student."

"Sad day," he said, standing and tugging me up to face him. He framed my face in his hands and leaned up to kiss me, grinning. "See you tonight?"

A/N: Although condom use was not explicitly mentioned in this chapter, it should be said that our boys practice safe-sex. Yay for safety! Yay-er for sex!

Also, eek. Where the fuck have I been, huh? Well I'll tell you. I've been suffering through the February blues. I hate this godforsaken month. Anyway, I suppose I could say I'm sorry that after all this time, all I give you is basically glorified porn (and really, not that glorified) but ((shrug)) everybody needs a little heat.

Thank you for all your support and reviews!!!