[UNI AU]

[homosexuals]

CAMBOY UNI AU

tell me and i forget, teach me and i remember.

Comments

[apologetics]

[ if tim could close his eyes, he has no doubt he could imagine what hawkins fuller's lips might feel like down his spine, the way his hands would travel his body. he would take anything this man happens to want to offer him, he realizes, even if he's never quite done some of these things in real life. it's easy to play pretend on the screen - but there's a level of reality here that adds to his boyish, studently charm.

no, he doesn't know what it feels like to be pulled open and devoured but suddenly he wants to, which contributes to the little, rumbling whine that leaves his throat. ]

I do need a good grade. Do whatever you want, Professor - but make sure you grade me fairly. Hard.

[ he huffs, airy and wanton already now that he knows for certain that the professor he croons to is the man he sits opposite of on campus almost daily. he can almost picture himself splayed out on hawk's desk, and just how small and weightless he would feel beneath the pressure of a man as domineering and perfect as hawk.

tim pouts a little at the camera - a little wrinkle of his nose and a hint of that defiance hawk can see in him in the classroom. a student doing what he's told, even if it's not what he wants. ]

Yes, sir. I'm sorry my mouth is distracting - I thought you liked it.

[ he pushes up from his front, letting his legs splay easily behind him, displaying how flexible he is, with his thighs spread wide and the burgeoning bulge of his shorts grinding into the mattress. he leans sideways to the little chest, revealing the muscles of his side, his chest, and from it draws out what looks like a large plug - shiny and blue, the length of tim's palm from base to tip. ]

Professor, is this what you were thinking?

[ he sprawls back on his belly again, sitting up and arching enough so that the puffy pink of his nipples can be seen. he reaches with one strong arm off camera - and there's a look in the honey brown of his eyes behind those glasses - a sort of knowing - as the chat sends a link.

whatever tim has in his hands? it can be controlled via the website.

he slides back into place, and with no preamble, gets to work. first, a kittenish lick at the tip of it, then he wastes no time sinking his mouth around it, hollowing his cheeks and sucking as he might were he between hawk's thighs just now. god, what he would do to be doing just that. ]

I hope you like my first assignment, Professor.

[ said on a gasp, just as he comes up from one bob, before his mouth gets busy once again, eyes focused on the camera. ]

[homosexuals]

[jesus - fuck. it's a wonder hawk doesn't just blow his entire goddamn load on the spot. tim is so good at this, and suddenly he wants to fucking strangle every asshole who's seen him like this with his bare hands. because he had to learn this from someone, didn't he? hawk can't fathom a world where tim is this good and well practiced from anything other than experience. he'd said he doesn't have many friends here on campus, and it's true for some reason he also can't fathom, no one ever seems to look his way other than to grumble or roll their eyes when he gets too enthusiastic at class. i mean, christ - are they all blind to the fucking adonis that's right in front of them? but then he's grateful, because it means he doesn't have to bite his tongue and feel guilty for lusting after his own student who should absolutely be sewing his wild oats or whatever the fuck fathers are supposed to tell their sons before they go off to college, and he'd feel guilty for keeping tim from something that would unquestionably be the better and more normal experience for him to have.

all this talk, knowing tim knows it's him on the other side - it makes all of this that much more heated, knowing he's probably going to have a semi the next time tim calls him professor to his face or mentions getting a good grade and handing in an assignment. all he's gonna think of are the little noises tim's making, the stretch of taut muscle and slightly tanned skin. the peek of freckles in secret places and the way his eyes never leave the camera, burning with a determination that makes hawk feel himself already leaking in his boxers and throbbing with an ache that his palm barely even satisfies.]

That's exactly what I was thinking. Now, you know I like when your mouth gets to talking a mile a minute - but sometimes a good boy's gotta learn when to keep it busy.

Just like that honey. Fuck. Looks nice and wide. And you - well, we'd be here all night if I told you what I thought about how goddamn irresistible you look.

[hawk watches him - well, like a hawk, aptly so - blue eyes scanning every inch of the screen as he watches tim's cheeks hollow around the length and take all of it with ease. a part of him wonders if he'd take cock just as easily, and when the hell he managed to get rid of his gag reflex which circles back into that hot thrum of jealousy that he feels childish even as much as it makes his blood rush with possession that one day might actually have the opportunity to be acted on.]

Yeah - see how nice you take that. Good boy.

[when the link comes through though, that's when hawk utterly freezes. if he were on camera, tim could absolutely see the moment it registers on his face, jaw and lips slackening with realization. eyes widening and pupils dilated like fucking saucers, mouth wet and tongue dragging across his lips in a hungry lick. he's gonna be the one calling the shots. but that also means - ]

The wonders of technology never cease, huh? Mighty fine present you got for me here. But you know...my hands are gonna be a bit busy. One taking care of my boy, and one for - well, you're smart enough to figure it out.

[what he's offering, it's risky. as if this isn't already partway down the rabbit hole anyway. the dots on tim's side of the chat take a little longer than usual, and it isn't because hawk is nervous. god no - he's good at this part. it's just, this is unchartered territory for them both. admitting to something they've pretended to overlook for some time, taking another step into crossing the boundary that they are playing fast and loose with. but fuck if he doesn't want it. jesus, he wants it more than he thinks he's ever wanted anything in the last decade, let alone his whole goddamn life.]

I was thinking maybe you'd want me to tell you exactly what to do. To hear me praise you and get that good feedback to finish your assignment, yeah?

But it's only if you want it, sweetheart. And if not, that's alright too.

Jesus, I could watch you like this all day.

[apologetics]

[ coming up on a little gasp from the toy, tim's eyes lift to the camera again and he pauses, licking his bottom lip as they all but shimmer slick in the camera lighting. they've gone rosy red for the stretch and movement and he's sure to show it in the way his bottom lip pouts just so as he catches a breath. ]

Tell me everything you want to, Professor, please. I only take it this nice for you. No one else.

[ just as he dips his head back down to take the toy, he arches his back, spreads his thighs a little so that hawk can see the way the muscle strains the rigid fabric. one sock rolls a little in the movement, and he licks one long stripe up the toy as he reads what hawk offers next.

if he looks surprised, he can't help it - brows jumping a tiny bit over the frames of his glasses, a pretty flush lighting up under his cheeks and creeping down his neck. it looks like it might well make even his chest go rosy and pink. one hand for the toy - one hand for -

oh, to be that sweet, divine hand.

he almost misses the offer - the little risk that his man is making and he tilts his head a little and it's an accident the way he utterly moans around the toy on the way up. ]

Please. I - I want it. To hear you - to take anything you want to give me, Professor. I'll do anything to earn it.

[ and maybe there's something a little to genuine in it, a little too honest, but it's true. to hear hawkins fuller - listen to the man coo his name and praise him, to hear the rumble of his voice with the sounds of skippy on his tongue?

it will never be as good as kissing him in the lamplight outside the restaurant. it will never beat the romance of their date, the sizzle on the air between them. how badly tim wants to be his now more than ever. even if it's through a screen, where they can't touch, they can't kiss. where hawk is still anonymous and safe, and tim rips open his chest for him. ]

I know I can do a good job for you, Hawk - Professor. Let me show you - prove it to you. Please, let me hear everything you need from me.

[ ah. he's nearly forgotten the toy and he bashfully sort of ducks his head, shrugs one freckled shoulder before he dips back down and takes the toy all the way to the back of his throat and he sits there, lingering, waiting for a few seconds before he comes back up, face tinged and warm, and the brown of his eyes imploring the camera. ]

I'll be the best boy you've ever taught.