robodicking | i'm hot for teacher

i'm hot for teacher

[ Unlike most instances where Gino actually shows up for class, and (even more rarely,) actually bothers to pay attention, by the end of class, he is struck with a serious case of inspiration. Even though he spends the entire session with his chin in his hand, tapping his pen uselessly against his notebook rather than bothering to take notes, there's a look in his eye that he only gets on special occasions. Occasions which are beginning to become more frequent over time, and for less clear-cut reasons. It started as pretty textbook: the cliche, "please teacher, I could really use the better grades" once-in-a-blue-moon, quick-and-dirty hookup after class, but it quickly escalated into something—else.

Honestly, he's not really sure of it, himself. He doesn't figure his intentions broach the line of romantic, it's just... it's an interest. Not That kind of Interest. Just an interest, something that morphed from a bit of a joke to something he seriously looks forward to when he gets the ideas in his head, the kind that can sometimes make his mouth go dry just thinking about it.

He knows he'll be waiting awhile on this particular night, since, from what he knows of his professor's schedule, he doesn't tend to actually come back to his office until he's finished with work, if at all. Actually, he really doesn't have Professor Gottwald's schedule memorized at all, but he reckons he'd have to come back to his office for his car keys or something before he heads home for the night, so he breaks in through a conveniently unlocked window and makes himself ready.

It's a bit thrilling since he's really not sure how it'll go, it's impulsive even for him, and that makes him an even better sight, the white button-up shirt he'd worn to school that day opened and pooled around his wrists where they're leaned back against the desk, pants undone but still on, at least for now. He'd considered ditching them entirely but somehow he thought the tease of open-but-on was more interesting. When he thinks about what sort of reaction he might get it an adds a pleasant pink flush to his skin and he bites his lip, squinting in the dark and watching the door expectantly. ]

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[Yeah, sadly, Gino might be waiting up like that for a while. He's a busy man with a busy schedule, and if a certain student of his paid attention for once he might have caught the mention earlier in class today about his office hours being tomorrow, rather than today. Department meetings are sometimes a bit exhausting, if important. And catching dinner—it was originally going to be late lunch, but. schedules tho—with the Dean of Students was even moreso. It can't be helped that he doesn't actually drag his ass into his office to get his things together and head home until nearly sunset.

He walks in sighing and loosening his tie, and if he had thoughts of finally getting to unwind, they vanish fairly quickly at the sight spread out before him on his desk.]

...

[Yeah, he's just gonna stand in shock for a moment.]

[ He doesn't quite have his game face on the second the door opens, but it doesn't take him long to get there. He has a moment of deer-in-the-headlights before the light comes on, but then the desk lamp (now on the floor, on its side—he was careful not to break anything, but he didn't exactly place everything neatly on the floor to make room for himself) gives the room a dim glow and that's all the time he needs to drum up a pleasant smile, sitting up a little and shifting his legs just a little further apart as he does so. ]

Good evening, Professor.

[No wait, he's still staring. He's not looking any less... not scandalized? Or even surprised. Astonished. Yeah, that's it.

Oh, and increasingly furious. Y'know, once he notices the lamp.]

What did you do to my desk?!

That's all you have to say?!

[ He turns just a little redder for something other than embarrassment, gesturing airily with one hand. Sort of, since he's kind of bound by his not-really-on shirt. ]

I kept all your boring papers in order, not that you'll be looking at those any time soon.

What, did you think I'd simply just abide by something like this?

[Right. He should probably close his door behind him before someone notices, Jesus Christ, especially if he's going to be yelling about half-naked students in his office.]

Good... God, how long have you been in here like this? Anyone could have walked in!

[ Yeah, especially since he's shrugging and scooting forward on the desk so that his feet touch the ground and leaning forward a little. ]

Long enough to start getting a little impatient! If I'd have given you advanced warning, you would've made me wait even longer.

[Just have a long sigh as Jeremiah comes over, rubbing his temples preemptively and placing his bag elsewhere for now. He glances Gino's way for a moment, longer than he intended, and suddenly finds himself willing his face to not heat up.

Needless to say, he succeeds. But just barely.]

No, I would have come here and made you get dressed and leave. This is incredibly reckless, even for you.

That's exactly what I mean! Now you've seen exactly what you're in for, how could you possibly turn away?

[ You better believe he noticed the look, if only because he was watching for it. It's a cocky thing to say, but there's an anxious part of him that wasn't so sure this was really the best idea, or that it would go over so well, but a once-over is all the encouragement he really needs. Once he has that, he can sell it, no problem.

Hopefully. ]

Because I clearly have more common sense than you.

[His frown deepens, Jeremiah addressing him head-on, back straightening. He's above this, and dammit, he'll prove it.

Fuck, though.]

On the other hand, logic can't convince you out of this, can it?

[ Gino meets his gaze head-on, doing his absolute damnedest to hold him with his eyes. So long as he's not laying it on too thick, because he knows how this shit works by now. ]

No.

[ He pretty much growls it, putting whatever staying power his big googly baby blues don't have into his voice. ]

Predictable. [A somewhat put-upon sigh escapes his lips as he crosses his arms. He won't cave so easily, prone as he might be right now to having wandering eyes.]

You don't even feel bad about backing me into such a corner, do you?

Not really.

[ He says it innocently (and honestly) enough, at least in comparison to that predatory purring he was doing a second earlier. This time he reaches out invitingly, shrugging his shirt off and brushing it aside. ]

Why should I? There's not much I haven't gift wrapped especially for you tonight.

Don't even try and guilt me. It won't work, certainly not in this situation.

[He says rather snootily, even when his eyes, rather traitorously at this point, flick to graze over his arms. Jeremiah doesn't usually like them so young, but Gino doesn't quite look it like his peers, and... yeah, he doesn't really have any excuses, actually. There's really nothing that forgives him doing anything other than demanding Gino to redress and go home. He's too tired for this, and the blond looks too good like this, and maybe Jeremiah himself isn't just a little in need of what he's being offered.

Still, he scowls to himself as he looks back to Gino's face. No sense in covering up his actions, but come on Gottwald. You're better than this.]

Haaah, why Professor, I think you misunderstand my intentions completely!

[ But when he says that in that teasing way of his, it's a little hard to tell whether it's sarcastic or sincere. Considering that his sweet little innocent smiles are hardly what they look like, it just makes it that much more difficult.

He flicks his gaze away like he's shy and then back up, stretching his hands out to lay them on Jeremiah's shoulders. Not grabbing or pulling, not just yet. ]

I was offering you a modicum of control, believe it or not. Unless that's not what you wanted—and that's me guilting you.

Please, don't insult me trying to misconstrue the situation. Your intentions are obvious.

[Jeremiah doesn't resist the touch at all, really, is the thing. Just kind of regards him looking displeased. And, finally, a little red in the face.

By the way? Fuck Gino Weinberg. For real.]

Well? Is this about the test next week?

[ Yes, that's the idea, Jeremiah.

He smiles a little more earnestly than before, a familiar twinge of thrill in his lower belly when he remembers this is something unrelated to class entirely (well, mostly). When it had been a matter of simply watching Jeremiah move around the classroom, writing on the board and telling his impossibly dull stories and just suddenly realizing that their typical routine just wasn't going to be enough to light his fire this time around. ]

No... it's about today.

[ He finds himself remarkably incapable of elucidating for once, at least for now, just a little pink across his nose. Rather than pull Jeremiah toward him, he scoots to nearly the edge of the desk, brushing his thumbs against the sides of his neck. ]

I decided I wanted you, and the rest is pretty much history.

A more likely story than anything you've said so far, considering your age. Honestly, if you spent more time using this energy on your studies and less on all your... social and intimate extracurriculars, you wouldn't even have reason to deem it necessary.

[Not that he's sure Gino does entirely anyway, obviously, but. It would probably simplify things. But things aren't simple, and Gino won't stop fucking touching him.]

Is that all you decided?

Well, no. I also decided you needed to want me, too.

[ It's nothing compared to what he'd like to be doing, and it's a test of his patience and willpower to try and tempt Jeremiah into going first. He's marginally positive already that he's not capable. But he makes an attempt, anyway, letting his fingers creep down the back of his ridiculous sweater. ]

Did you now.

[He still looks quite unimpressed, one brow maybe even raised in the driest of humor, but he still doesn't resist the touches. Yet-]

Badly enough to sully not only my desk but my entire office? This isn't exactly a clandestine meeting place.

More than the classroom was. And I had to be sure to turn up somewhere unmissable.

[ Even if that was just one time, because he absolutely could not be stopped from getting down under his desk at least once, but it had been quick and almost painfully messy and not nearly as fun as this already is. ]

As long as you aren't too indelicate with me, I promise I won't be too loud, hah? Fair enough?

Tch. [His frown's only deepening, though his face flushes a bit at the memory. That had been too much, certainly. At least here it's his own space and very few people are around and he could always just go lock his door.

He's really weighing the pros and cons isn't he? Holy shit.]

You're really serious. You want to have sex right here, right now.

[ It's his turn for a sigh a touch on the put-upon side, even if it, like everything else, is dampened by a playful grin. He doesn't bother with much more than an affirmative hum by way of a response, withdrawing his hands from the back of Jeremiah's shirt.

But that's only so he can reach for his hands and manually maneuver them to his bare sides, pressing his own over Jeremiah's once there's sufficient skin contact. ]

C'mon, already.

[If it counts as resistance, then he finally does, but it's only to slip them further down and grip his hipbones firmly. Not enough to punish, but enough to convey dissent. If it's happening, it's happening on his terms just as much as Gino's, finally pulling himself closer and glaring down the short distance to the younger man's face.]

You're unbelievable. And incredibly pushy.

[ Gino's visibly okay with the shift, honestly, and true to his pushy nature he pushes his hips up into his hands, reaching up to wrap both arms around his neck. He only hooks there, not pushing or pulling, and inclines his head with a laugh so overly sweet, it's practically a giggle. ]

You're remarkably handsome.

Flattery won't get you anywhere. I'm still displeased with you.

[Jeremiah just pushes back with the heel of his palms, trying to keep his squirming at bay. It's an uphill battle to try and get this guy to behave himself, but so help him God he'll keep fighting it if he must.]

[ He relaxes back against the desk, other than continuing to hold onto Jeremiah's neck. It's obvious it takes restraint, but he's capable of exercising it more than anyone ever gives him credit for. It's just a matter of wanting to. ]

I'm sorry. I'll put everything back later.

[ But he knows he doesn't need to bargain. As far as he's concerned, he's already won. ]

I'll hold you to that.

[With that, Jeremiah decides he's heard enough talking, one of his hands pulling from Gino's hip to grip his chin and draw him in for a kiss, firm and earnest and maybe a little more insistent than he meant, but. Whatever defiance he feels the need to convey, he's apparently going to convey it in giving Gino a thing he most likely very much wants.]

[ Without a doubt. He surges into it almost immediately and then remembers the magic word, restraint, in the back of his mind and wills himself to calm just a little. It's not as if he's chomping at the bit and completely raring to go already, but it's been on his mind for hours and the payoff is a hell of a fucking relief. His fingers curl into Jeremiah's hair, anchoring himself in place.

It's sort of giving his stomach muscles a pain to be half-sitting up with almost no support the way he is, but he has yet to weaken. Especially not when there's incentive to stay put involved. ]

[Maybe it's a little pathetic to be comparing himself to someone more than a decade younger, but it brings Jeremiah more than just a tiny bit of reassurance to feel him respond like that, to know that even with his own resistance being what it is that Gino's not faring any better.

That being said, he definitely really kisses him, parting his lips already to tease at Gino's lower one, hand on his hip pulling at him, even if it's not firmly enough to actually pull him closer.]

[ His mouth opens invitingly, murmuring some nonverbal noise of pleasure when he does. He's been downing mints all night and the dissolving remainder of one is still sitting on the end of this tongue, sweet and painfully peppermint, which he graciously shares.

As far as keeping still, though, he has a hard time of it with that hand on his hip and finds himself trying to rock upward again, sliding a hand down Jeremiah's back to give himself more support. ]

[It's subtle, but Gino can probably feel the slight arch his back provides into the contact, even as he gives a displeased grunt at the sudden mint invasion. The trace of it on his lips was one thing, this is another, and yet he's too spurred on not to pull his mouth away. If anything, he kisses back harder, more invasively, his hand gripping tighter at Gino's hip, his thumb digging into the softness on the inside of his hipbone. Just to see where the pressure gets him.]

[ It gets Gino huffing quietly and pushing hard into that kiss, so hard it's almost guaranteed to bruise his lips later (but that's nothing new), his one hand sliding as far down Jeremiah's back as he can reach and digging his fingers in. He isn't even going to pretend like he's not trying to pull him in now, arching insistently and threatening to slide right off the desk if he moves too much more forward. ]

[Jeremiah has little desire to stop any of this, but he still finds himself tearing his mouth away for a moment, both hands now finding purchase on his hips and anchoring Gino firmly before he can wriggle right off the surface.]

Hey, careful. [He presses closer between the blond's legs, and while they're not exactly aligned to get some good old-fashioned dick rubbing in just yet, a surge of heat courses through him with the realization. After all, his intention was only to keep him still. No, really.] Your eagerness is only going to keep getting the better of you.

[ Gino's mouth hangs open to catch his breath, sugary spit-slick and what does he care, he just licks his lips and grins. With Jeremiah closer to him, he's able to hitch his knees up and gain a little purchase against his middle, sliding himself back and then wrapping those endlessly long legs around him to hold himself (well, not just himself) in place. ]

I'm sorry, I can't help it.

[ he says, without the faintest trace of actually being sorry in his voice or on his face whatsoever. With his legs coiled around that leaves him to slide his arms back up around Jeremiah's neck, using him and his muscle strength entirely to hold himself up in his awkward half-sit. ]

But if you're not putting me in my place, that's on you, Pro-fess-or.

[ A peck along his jaw for each syllable. ]

[The little hums he gets in turn are amused, if somewhat derisively so with the words that follow.]

Am I supposed to be your nanny as well?

[Jeremiah pulls him in a little tighter, his hips continuing to stay still even as he feels pressure and heat distinctly against himself, and God is it ever difficult to maintain, but he does. It also means he can't drag Gino's mouth back against his while his hands are occupied, and oh does he want that as well. He wants many things, really. But he'll have to be patient.]

That's not exactly as appealing.

No, just a strict disciplinarian. That is what you're known for, isn't it-?

[ Well, maybe not quite, although rampant detention slips were a thing of famous history for awhile, back in what Gino calls the "Dark Days." The time when he didn't have friends. You know, for about a week or something.

He tingles all over knowing how proximally close they are and how easy it would be to just get him in a vice grip and buck like a bronco until he gets the friction he wants, but he exercises remarkable self-control of his own and refrains. Instead he settles for a faint squeeze of his legs around the older man's waist, brushing their cheeks together and pulling himself up closer to kiss what little of his neck he can get at that isn't covered by that goofy sweater. ]

But, I mean, I don't think I'm being so bad.

[His gaze falls heavy at the contact, a faint smirk spreading across his lips. The closeness is, honestly, actually quite nice, as much as it feels a contest as to who can hold out the longest. Pressed to each other like this, Jeremiah can't help the warmth tingling its way through him, making him want for more but also want to keep simply enjoying it.]

That's a bold claim with behavior like this. Still, if you're looking to earn it, you haven't yet.

Laying out half naked on your desk wasn't enough?

[ Well, okay, to be fair, it was probably more than half considering that he'd left his damnable skinny jeans wide open and skipped briefs today, but even just thinking about that is enough to make him blush, a little. It's not that he's shy about his body (quite the opposite, as a matter of fact), but it was. You know. Pretty bold.

He doesn't know exactly how much is visible but he doesn't try to look down and find out because he's too busy rubbing his face all over Jeremiah's neck and jaw and marveling that he may actually not be the better-shaven one in this situation. God damn four o'clock shadow always gets the best of him. ]

[Hey, when you get to be Jeremiah's age, you start going to lengths to keep it at bay. Actually carrying a razor is one of them for when you need touch-ups is one of them. After all, Jeremiah's genes aren't exactly on his side in regards to this.]

Hmph. Don't think I've forgotten about that just yet.

[In the meantime, he can at least run his fingers over the back of Gino's hips, pressing, testing. The boy has some interesting weak spots, and he's got every intent to discover more of them. Particularly ones that might rather literally spur him into action.]

[ It seems to be a successful shot at finding one of his favorite places to be touched, given how his little purrs and laughs while he's nuzzling into Jeremiah's neck suddenly stop with a hitch of his breath, and then that's all there is, quickened breathing with the occasional skip in the beat beside his ear, close to panting but not quite. ]

I'm pretty sure that's a sight you're not ever go-onna forget.

[ His hips roll upward without any of his previous restraint, inviting and maybe just a little desperate. His body moves the way he used to speak when this was all still new to him, before he had any control of his brain to mouth filter and it only took five minutes in for him to start blurting out plaintive pleas for attention. By now he's learned that the best way to express himself is to say nothing at all (a habit he's learned, no doubt, from several years of unrequited affections), so it's only his flagrant arching off the desk that gives him away, fingers clenching against Jeremiah's shoulders and pushing down a little to give himself some leverage. ]

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i'm hot for teacher

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