The one where Dom acts on his crush.

[aelane.livejournal.com]

disclaimer


One.
Billy supposes it’s the way Dominic moves. Languid is the word that comes to mind, although he desperately wishes words that make him think of Dominic's lithe body moving and mewling beneath him wouldn’t spring to mind so easily.

Lithe.

Dammit. Dominic is a student and this line of thought completely unethical, he reminds himself. Focus on the lecture, which is hard because Dominic has just slipped off his sandals and stretched out his legs, sliding down in his seat and giving him a look that burns. Billy quite forgets what was so interesting about existentialism in the first place.

Two.
Ever since he’d taken his first philosophy course, Dominic has nurtured this crush—sought Boyd out, volunteered for projects, visited during office hours—anything to get close.

And he has learned many things. Not much philosophy, but fascinating things nonetheless. Things like knowing the good Professor only stumbles through a lecture when he feels nervous and, more importantly, what unnerves him. Dominic likes to push against the line of propriety that Boyd maintains.

Last year, and it would be a shame, he decides, if his crush comes to nothing. Stretching in his seat, he watches, amused, as Boyd stops mid-sentence.

Three.
Billy dismisses the class early, berating himself for being so easily distracted. He turns his back to the departing students, scrubbing a little too hard at his own barely legible handwriting from the blackboard.

“Professor Boyd?”

The eraser goes flying from his hand at the sound of his name. He doesn’t dare turn around, knows what he would see. Young Dominic Monaghan: jeans barely resting on his hips, tiny star tattoos on his foot, trendy stubble on his cheeks and sex in his eyes.

He kneels down, fumbling for the eraser, attempting to hide—well, whatever needs to be hidden.

Four.
Dominic smiles when the eraser goes flying but the professor on his knees stifles all thoughts of humor. How easy it would be to just pounce…

But, no. That isn’t the plan. The plan involves seduction. Reciprocation. A bed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wondered if maybe I could come to your office again to talk about—" What? The ethics of sleeping with students? Boyd stands up and Dominic inches closer. He can now plainly see why class had been abruptly cancelled. Dominic smiles in a manner he hopes feigns innocence. “To talk.”

Screw the plan.

Five.
“Em.” Synapses. Neurons. Impulses. Impulses that can be overcome. Now, focus, he chides himself. “Em.”

Dominic’s innocent smile is now quite predatory. The eraser drops again and Billy sags against the blackboard, using the chalk tray to hold himself upright.

“Now isn’t a good time.” There. He’d acted the professional. God, why is the boy moving closer?

“I think now is a very good time.”

Billy dares to look up, meaning to be stern, but there is the problem of a warm mouth on his own and the words ringing through his head like a siren, 'this is a student!'

Six.
Billy gives a half-hearted struggle before pulling Dominic closer, the kiss becoming more frenzied. Pinning Billy against the blackboard, Dominic feels the rush of triumph.

“Dr. Boyd,” Dominic mumbles as his mouth seeks the flesh right below Billy’s ear.

“Don’t call me that.” Billy bites back his words as Dominic’s hand creeps lower. He struggles to regain control, holding back a groan. “Stop. This is madness.”

“You want me.”

“You’re a student.”

“My last year.”

“You’re still my student.”

“Yours.”

“Not what I meant.”

Dominic smiles because even as Dr. Boyd—Billy—argues, his hands have inched underneath Dominic’s shirt.

Seven.
Dominic’s skin is hot, like Billy knew it would be, and his body thin and hard. His shoulder blades jut out sharply and Billy traces his fingertips along the edges. He wants so much to see them. Kiss them.

The sound of a zipper brings him back to reality.

Billy opens his eyes, shaking his head in an effort to clear the haze he felt has settled over his mind. He can see the empty lecture hall over Dominic’s shoulder, the chairs scattered from the exodus of students only a few moments ago.

“Not here. We can’t do this here.”

Eight.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Bend me over a desk. Give me an--” Dominic slides his hand into Billy’s trousers before whispering, “oral examination.”

“Dominic--” Billy’s voice is a warning that shatters Dominic’s name like a polysyllabic kaleidoscope. A warning that is ignored as Dominic roughly turns him towards the board and pins his arms behind his back. “Or is this what you want. To be taken.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Billy draws in a ragged breath.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“If I wanted to take you here--”

“Please. If we’re caught…”

“You would obey.”

Nine.
Dominic’s voice is low and rough and feels like steel against his skin. Billy knows he will do whatever Dominic asks of him and wonders at this sudden need to please. The humiliation of being caught in an empty classroom while being fucked by a student seems nothing next to his need of having Dominic continue his seduction. He would obey; there is no other option. “I would.”

As he speaks the word, it’s over. Dominic releases him, turns him around and begins dusting chalk from his shirt, straightening his clothes.

“I said I would.”

“You said not here, Billy.”

Ten.
Billy’s cheeks flush red. A fucking mind game and he fell for it. He knocks Dominic’s hands from their task and pushes him away, trying to think of something to say that would cut as deeply. He feels exposed and dirty and a little more than foolish. “Don’t play with me. I can’t—"

“—You can, and you will take whatever I decide to give you.” Suddenly close, Dominic cradles Billy’s face between his hands, stroking his thumb over Billy’s lips. “I know what you want better than you think. Trust me. Go back to your office and wait.”

Eleven.
“No.”

“What?” Dominic drops his hands and stares in disbelief.

“I don’t think you know what I want at all, young Dominic, but I’m quite willing to show you.” Moving fast, Billy twists around and pushes Dominic against the blackboard. Hard.

“You seem fond of playing games. Let me teach you another.”

“Billy?”

“Professor Boyd. Say it.”

“Professor—“ Dominic’s words were cut off as Billy presses against him, demanding another kiss. When Billy pushes away, Dominic sags against the board, his knees giving under his weight.

Twelve.
“You’re good, lad, and I have to admit I’m sorely tempted.” Billy runs his hand down the tight line of Dominic’s body, letting his hand come to rest on Dominic's hip, dipping his fingertips just below the waistband. “But I don’t think you’re quite ready for the responsibility.”

“You could teach me.” Dominic’s voice was slightly breathless, eyes hooded.

“Aye. But I know what kind of student you are. Inattentive. Impatient.” Billy steps away leaving Dominic against the board while he gathers his things. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, “what would you have done had I gone to my office?”

Thirteen.

“Whatever you wanted me to.” By the professor’s single raised eyebrow, Dominic knows this is the wrong answer. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “I would have fucked you. I would have had you on your couch. I would have begged you to fuck me.”

“And is that what you want, Dominic? A brief interlude in my office. A fulfillment of a boy’s wet dream?”

Dominic shakes his head, his hand creeping between his thighs to rub at his cock through his jeans. “I want to belong to you, professor. I want you to want me back. I need you.”

Comments

[aelane.livejournal.com]

Dominic’s body burns and throbs and he tries desperately to meet Billy’s thrusts. He knows that tomorrow he will ache, will probably want nothing more to lie in a bed somewhere, and the thought makes him grimace in satisfaction. The thought that there will be reminders of their coupling is beyond pleasing to him and he vaguely wonders how Billy would react to Dominic making a mark of his own.

Still, coherent thoughts are difficult and his mind skips from place to place (Billy’s eyes are so green when he is close to coming. I didn’t realize his body would be so fit.) until thoughts faded all together replaced by whatever instinct takes over. Billy’s hand is now on his cock, giving him the release and pleasure that he had desired for so long. Billy’s voice is a low rumble, twisting his name, then commanding. The combination is too much and just enough, and he coming over Billy’s hand, feeling it warm between their bodies on made hypersensitive from the sensory overload. He tilts his head back, eyes squeezed shut, white knuckled hands gripping Billy’s shoulder as he moans, cursing, whimpers out his pleasure.

[kiltsandlollies.livejournal.com]

“Fucking Christ,” Billy gasps at Dominic's almost–immediate obedience. Dominic's body is clenching around Billy, and Billy can barely hold on to enjoy the ride. Dominic's hips rise from the ground, and Billy releases Dominic's cock to slide one hand around to grab, to take, pushing Dominic back down so he can finish this. Dominic is so hot and trembling and just fucking perfect, and Billy is growling out curses between his teeth, shoving himself as hard as he possibly can inside him.

And then Billy feels it beginning. His eyes close, and he bites down hard on his tongue to keep from screaming. Billy is always quiet with new lovers—until they earn the privilege of making him loud—and again, Dominic is no exception. Billy’s fingers are digging into the muscled flesh of Dominic's hip, but he cannot help the reaction. It is too good, too much, and Billy gives in, surrenders to his own ugly desire.

When it is over, Billy shifts and stills himself, propped up on his palms above Dominic, still inside him but only just, and Billy pants, suddenly frightened.

“This is—this is not—” Billy whispers. “Dominic, I cannot do this, why did you let me do this—” Before he can fully humiliate himself , Billy stops, caressing Dominic's face with one hand. “Have I hurt you?”

[aelane.livejournal.com]

Dominic barely has time to come down, to even out his breathing before Billy is telling him it was a mistake.

“Have you hurt me?“ He pushes Billy’s hand away from his face. He hadn’t expected this humiliation. Not from Billy. But now that it was over and Billy was looking down at him, the same look he got when he was trying to explain a particularly difficult concept, he was suddenly embarrassed that he should be on his back in a cold office, having just been fucked by his professor. He wondered at his own stupidity—his lack of foresight of seeing where this might leave him. What had he expected, he berated himself, that Billy would embrace him afterwards, sprinkling kisses over his face—that there would be a second time?

He can feel the carpet burns on his back, the places on his hips that will be ten perfect bruises in the morning, the bite on the inside of his thigh. These he would have coveted the next day. Looked at them and pressed his fingertips to them to remember and smile. He feels as if they’ve been taken from him.

Mopping at his face with his palms, Dominic swallows past the hurt of Billy’s words. Looking away, he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. Then, jutting his chin out defiantly, he chokes out, “Just fucking get off me.”

[kiltsandlollies.livejournal.com]

"No!" Billy gasps, pressing Dominic back down, his strength returning. "No, Dominic, you don't understand, I thought this was what you wanted—I don't mean to—" Billy wonders in the rush of fear and blood to his head if this is indeed perhaps what they both wanted and needed. "I just—you mustn't speak of this to anyone, Dominic, please ..." Billy goes still again, and his eyes burn and narrow into Dominic's. "I don't regret this. You are ... it's just that I—" Billy leans forward, hiding his face in Dominic's chest, breathing hard. "I would not have had you this way," Billy whispers. "I could have been easier with you. I cannot promise to make your ... your dreams of me come true, Dominic. I'm a man, nothing more. And you undo me, lad."

Billy inches his way back up Dominic's body to rest there, sweeping Dominic's hair off his forehead. "You undo me," Billy whispers again. "Forgive me."

[aelane.livejournal.com]

Dominic measures Billy’s words, trying not to misunderstand again, and can’t help but find hope in them.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I just… I want…” He wants to ask if this means they can do this again, wants to let Billy know that if this is all they have then it will be enough but fears pushing.

Dominic runs his hands over Billy’s arms and shoulders, pulling him a little closer. “This is what I wanted. You didn’t hurt me. I like...” He suddenly feel bashful saying this, but the fear is gone now that he knows Billy wants him as well, and he wants Billy to understand, to know this wasn't his first time. "It was perfect. Perfect. I can... You can do whatever you'd like with me." He looks up now, hoping Billy understands his meaning.

[kiltsandlollies.livejournal.com]

"Don't say that ..." Billy sighs, but he is smiling. "You have no idea what I could do to you." Billy lets his hands travel up to Dominic's hair, and he pulls Dominic gently up to sitting, Billy still straddling his lap.

"You were so good," Billy whispers in Dominic's ear before he kisses him. "You have ... an amazing body, Dominic, and the most perfect eyes." Billy runs his fingers over Dominic's eyelids, and his voice deepens. "The things I could teach you, lad. The things you could teach me." Billy's eyes flit to the clock on the opposite wall, and he sighs again. He can barely move, and he's almost certain that Dominic is in no shape to leave just yet either. But it's late, and Billy knows they have to leave the building soon. Already they've taken an enormous risk doing this in Billy's office.

This part is harder. Billy's unsure what he should do now. Oh, of course, he chould calmly suggest that Dominic be on his way, that they never speak of this again, that they never see each other outside of class. But what has just happened is the culmination of months of wanting on both their parts, and Billy needs to know that he's done more than just fulfill a fantasy.

Billy's hands, now running slowly and peacefully up and down the sides of Dominic's chest, graze over rib bones, and finally Billy has an idea.

"Are you hungry, Dominic?" Billy asks gently, hopefully. "May I—would you like to get something to eat?"

[aelane.livejournal.com]

Dominic rests his head against Billy’s shoulder as he talks, content to be petted and kissed. He hopes that they won’t move too soon, that this moment will last a little longer but then Billy is suggesting food. Nodding his head, he dares to press a kiss against Billy’s neck. A date, he thinks, but doesn’t chance saying it aloud, not even to joke but he doesn’t bother hiding his grin as Billy pulls away, searching for clothes.

Standing up, Dominic grabs some tissues from Billy’s desk, attempting to clean himself off some. He looks at the things strewn across Billy’s desk, knowing already what he’ll find there from his many previous visits but suddenly everything about the office has new meaning and he wants to memorize it all. He still is not sure that Billy will allow him to come here again. Then he sees it: a volume of German poetry that Dominic had thought he lost ages ago, tucked away on a bookshelf near Billy’s desk.

Dropping the tissues into the waste bin, Dominic stretches to pluck the book off the shelf. He opens it and sees his own handwriting where he had tried to translate his favorite poems, places where he had tried to write his own—his cheeks tingeing pink slightly as he remembers that some of these were about Billy though, he thinks with some relief, he never penned Billy’s name anywhere in the book. Still, he knows that Billy could probably have identified himself in some of the lines if he had bothered to read them.

“Where did you find…” Dominic turns towards Billy, holding the thin book in his hand. Billy, dressed only in his trousers, is watching him with an expression that Dominic can’t read. “I thought I lost it a long time ago. I remember the last time I had it I had been writing in it during your class. I was afraid…” He looks up, a little hopeful, his voice soft. “Did you read them? Mine, I mean.”