A request fic for nerdfightersunshine! Instead of an OTP, I went for a BROTP instead.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
Mard Geer, professor of English Literature at the acclaimed University of Fiore, was very, very close to just picking up his laptop and throwing it at a wall. The sight of the object breaking apart into multiple pieces of silicate casing and components would be deeply spiritual and cathartic experience, he felt.
Alas, his salary wasn't near enough to justify the expenditure of purchasing a new laptop to replace the destroyed one, so he refrained. But it was a near thing.
Was it too much to ask for, he wondered, that the students have a basic understanding of noun-verb relationships by the time they qualify for his course? Or that they would possess the most rudimentary knowledge of a semi-colon and how to properly utilize one?
Eucliffe, in particular, was a metaphorical thorn in Mard's side. The blond was messing with him – he was certain of it. There was no conceivable way for a person of Sting Eucliffe's vast (if very, very well concealed) intellect to perpetually confuse "accept" and "except." Let alone with the sheer frequency with which the young man did. Mard was positive that he was being messed with. Eucliffe was trying to make his life miserable in every single way he could. Last week it had been "definitely" and "defiantly." Next week it would be "elude" and "allude" that the blond would slip into his assignments in his relentless quest to drive Mard up a wall.
And the diabolical plot was working.
A ding from the laptop caught the exasperated professor's attention. Low battery. Dammit. Just his luck.
After a few moments of fruitless digging around in his bag for the device's charger, Mard frowned. Systematically, he began to dismantle the bag, all of the contents upended onto his desk. His pursuit, however, yielded nothing.
He'd left the charger at home.
Fantastic. Just… wonderful.
It looked as if he would have to use the library's computer to grade the latest batch of essays.
Sitting down at the only available workstation, Mard tried not to twitch at the persistent, invasive tap-tap-tapping of fingers clacking against the keyboards at the workstations around him. He'd be lucky if he accomplished anything within this environment, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself. Yet it was far too early in the day to justify leaving the campus. Also, he found himself more productive when at the school than his personal residence.
He was to be stuck with this, then.
Logging on, Mard drew out the USB drive that he'd transferred the essays onto. After he plugged it in, he went to open the documents.
Only to find that the computer was registering two storage devices, not one.
Mard blinked at the unknown drive's icon. Then he pushed back his chair, and peered under the desk at the computer's tower. Sure enough, there was another USB drive sticking out of a port on the backside. The professor sat up, and resituated himself comfortably at the workstation.
As far as he could tell, he had two options here. Either inform the librarian so that they could hold onto the item until the owner returned to claim it, or ignore it entirely.
Not one for simply ignoring something, nor for letting someone else handle a problem on his behalf, Mard opened the files on the mysterious USB drive. There should be a name on the documents somewhere, he reasoned. He would find out to whom it belonged, and only then would he turn it over to the librarian.
It had absolutely nothing to do with wishing to avoid the atrocious essays awaiting him.
With some interest, Mard noticed that the files were all named after constellations. The individual documents within were labeled with the names of individual stars within those constellations. Intrigued now, he opened one at random – Albireo.
The page opened up, black words crisp upon the stark white background of the document.
Mard immediately attempted to exit it once he figured out just what it was he was looking at.
But then, he paused. Something about the writing had caught his attention.
After a moment, he pinpointed the source.
It was a correctly placed semi-colon. With an appropriate subordinate clause. And there… there was "scarred", not scared… used in its rightful context!
Willfully ignoring the essays waiting to be marked (they weren't about to get any better anyways), Mard began to read in earnest.
Lucy booked it for the library with everything she had. It was the only place she could think of where she might have left her USB drive. She had to find it as soon as possible! If someone… if someone were to look at – or worse, read it – she would perish of the resulting embarrassment.
Once she arrived, she slipped inside and took a fretful glance at the clock hanging on one wall. The library would be closing soon. She needed to get that USB drive back!
Frantic now, she glanced around, trying to locate the workstation she'd used earlier in the day.
Her stomach dropped when she saw it was occupied.
Swallowing her fear – for her need to recover her device was desperate indeed – she approached the tall man sitting in front of the computer monitor.
"Um… excuse me?" she squeaked, nervous energy rolling off of her in waves.
Startled, the man glanced at the blonde intruder. "Yes?" he intoned, sounding almost bored.
Lucy resisted the urge to bolt out the door. She had to stay strong. "I was using this computer earlier today," she said weakly. "And I was wondering… if perhaps I left my USB drive plugged into it? If it's not too much trouble… could I check?"
He regarded her blankly for a moment. Then an amused smirk crawled across his handsome features.
Oh no.
"No need to," the stranger nearly purred.
Oh no.
"I take it you must be Ms. Heartfilia, then?"
OH NO.
"Y-yes?" Lucy replied. "But how did you…"
"I gleaned your name from one of your papers, my apologies."
And then she espied what was projected on the monitor.
FUCK.
The man's face broke out into a full-blown grin, rife with cruelty. "So you really are the author of this, then."
Lucy felt like curling up into a ball on the ground. She wondered if she could just flee, now, in accordance with her prior instincts. But then again… he knew her name. She was screwed. Well and truly screwed.
Suddenly, to her astonishment, the stranger's expression softened. "I must say that is rather good, all told."
The young woman's mouth dropped open. Had she… had she heard that correctly?
"There are a few things that could stand to be corrected," the man continued, as if he couldn't see her dumbfounded face. "The area that you need to work on the most is vocabulary diversification, but for the most part you have an exceptionally solid grasp of the English language. Tell me… do you plan to have this work published at some point?"
Lucy continued to stare at him, unable to comprehend what was going on now. Had she entered the Twilight Zone, or something?
"Ms. Heartfilia."
Hearing her name snapped her out of her daze. "I'm sorry… come again?" she asked, incredulous.
"I was curious about whether you had intended this for publication," the man stated patiently. "It's really rather good."
She shook her head vehemently, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I… thank you, but it's… it's just a fanfic." Her stomach queasily turned over. "I don't… I wasn't going to show this to anyone."
Holy shit, this complete and utter stranger had read her fanfic. Her gay fanfic. Her extremely explicit, gay fanfic. And he had liked it.
HOLY SHIT.
He seemed mildly disappointed by her response. "A shame, really," he muttered, closing the document and ejecting the USB drive. Holding it out to her, he continued, "You have rare talent."
The device dropped into Lucy's outstretched palm. She didn't recall extending it. "T-thank you!" she sputtered, a flush starting to creep into her neck.
The man stood and yawned. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a business card and placed it into her unmoving hand. "If ever wish for advice on improving your writing further, I would be pleased to assist."
With that, he gave her a nod and departed.
Numb, Lucy glanced down at the stiff paper sitting on her palm.
"He's a professor?!" she screeched. A moment later, she found herself being hurriedly shooed from the building by the irate librarian.
Standing outside, in the darkening courtyard, Lucy peered at the business card again.
Maybe… maybe she'd take him up on his offer.
After all, what did she have to lose?
I had so much fun with this prompt!