Chapter 1

Luke sat in his bed, jerking himself off. The thunderstorm raged outside, but he wasn't scared. He hadn't been scared of a storm for four years. Not since the professor started sleeping in Luke's bed when he got scared. Now he didn't get scared anymore, because he knew that the professor was there to protect him. But sometimes he still pretended to be frightened, just so he could be in the professor's arms for a night. Luke stroked himself faster, moaning. There was a final moment of tension before his release, then he moaned once more and wiped himself off with a tissue.

Professor Layton lay awake, listening to the sounds of the storm, his ears tuned to pick up any noise of distress from Luke's room. The boy was already sixteen, but he still sometimes got frightened while trying to sleep. A bright flash of light came from outside, followed by a rather loud clap of thunder, and Layton thought he heard a noise coming from Luke's room. He sat up, listening. He wasn't sure he had heard a noise, and he didn't want to seem too eager—barging into Luke's room every time he snuffled in his sleep. But the fact of the matter was that the professor was eager. He tried to suppress his feelings, but every time he slept with his arms around Luke, he felt just a little bit happier. It was like drinking a hot cup of tea after a very long day. The sound came again, and Layton swung his legs over the side of his bed, put on a shirt, and walked to the door.

"Luke, m'boy, are you alright?" he called, walking down the hall toward Luke's room.

Luke heard him coming and made a decision. It was a swift, dangerous, stupid, beautiful decision.

"Yes, Professor!" he called back, jumping out of bed and landing on his knees in front of the doorway, just and the professor stepped in. Luke reached around the professor and shut the door. Then he put his head in the professor's crotch and kissed him.

The professor let out a gasp. He took a step backward but bumped into the closed door. Luke crawled forward and resumed his task. After a moment the professor came to his senses. He may have been watching his young apprentice growing into a very mature young man over the past four years, but Luke was still, after all, only sixteen years old. This kind of behavior was, at least for the time being, illegal.

Layton put his hands on Luke's head and pushed it away from his—now pulsing—crotch. But Luke still had two perfectly free hands, which he proceeded to use to unzip the professor's pants, pull his underwear down, and jerk him off.

The professor was stunned for a moment or two, but he regained his composure enough to see the need for stopping Luke. Soon, though his half-hearted protests petered out, and he moved his hands to the back of Luke's head and pulled him towards himself. Luke obligingly opened his mouth and took Layton into it, sucking and licking very well for a sixteen-year-old boy.

"Where did you—oh—learn to—ah—learn to do—this?" the professor choked out between gasps.

Luke paused in his endeavor only to answer, "I practiced on myself before you came in," before taking the professor back into his mouth with increased fervor.

The professor didn't bother to think about what Luke meant. Instead he leaned back against the door and moaned while Luke sucked him off. He twined his fingers into Luke's hair and began thrusting in time with Luke's pattern. For a moment his mind drifted back to the first time he crawled into bed with Luke and wrapped his arms around him. He thought about how he had wanted nothing more than to lick his ear and stroke him, and make him whine and say his name. And then he was coming helplessly into Luke's mouth and on his face and hands, and his knees gave out and, with a whimper, he slid to the floor.

Luke held his hands up and looked at the viscous fluid covering them. After Layton caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Luke examining his hands.

"Luke, m'boy, it appears you've gotten yourself a bit dirty. Come, let's get you cleaned up." He took him into the bathroom and had him wash his hands and face as he leaned on the wall outside the bathroom, watching him, with his hands folded over his chest. He tried to think of what had just happened objectively, without putting his own bias on the situation. He wanted to believe Luke loved him, but it was equally possible that there was something entirely different going on. As a man of logic, Layton could not rule out any possibility without some hard facts to go off of. He decided not to push the relationship any farther than where it had gotten to that night, and see what Luke did with it on his own in the future.

When Luke was finished washing up he walked him back to his room and tucked him in. The rain was still pouring, but the thunder and lightning had ceased. Still, the professor couldn't help hoping that maybe the boy wouldn't want to sleep alone through the rain.

"Luke, is the storm frightening you?"

Luke shook his head and smiled. "I haven't been frightened of a storm for years now." He blushed a little as he added, "I only pretended to be so that you'd come sleep with me."

Layton felt his still-hard penis twitch. Luke continued, "but I don't need fear as an excuse anymore, do I, Professor? You can lie with me every night without pretending that you don't—". Luke paused when he realized he still wasn't sure of the professor's feelings for him. "You…You do love me, don't you, Professor?"

Professor Layton was so taken aback by this question that he was silent for a few moments out of sheer confusion. What did a sixteen-year-old boy know of love? For that matter, what did Layton know of love? He was by no means a virgin, but could he honestly say that he loved any of the women he had slept with? Maybe he did love Luke. But could he really trust a boy as young as Luke to love him back?

Layton chuckled lightly when he realized that he was worrying about getting hurt by Luke, when any sensible person would be worrying about Luke getting hurt by him. Luke took the chuckle the wrong way, though, as his eyebrows raised in concern and he leaned closer, repeating his question.

Layton sighed. "I believe I do love you, yes Luke, but I also believe that it's too early now to know for sure."

Luke thought for a moment, then smiled, and kissed the professor on the mouth.

How many years I've been alive, Layton thought, and still I'm amazed by the simple little things this boy does. How curious.

Luke pulled away and whispered, "I love you too, professor."

His reserve was broken. He removed his shirt and slipped into bed with Luke, wrapping his arms around the boy. Then he nibbled on the edge of Luke's ear, and Luke gasped and whined his name, and Layton knew that everything would turn out alright.

Damn his conscience.

Author's Note:

Man, you guys are all wimps, writing about "legal" Luke/Layton. Psht. So this is my creepy creep-creeper story about ILlegal Luke/Layton.

The next chapter is finished. It'll be up a week from today (so that's 9/23/11) if people are at all interested in it. I'm thinking there are only going to be three chapters, but we'll see what happens, and how you guys respond!