The Professor's house used to be such a quiet one. A tall thin, stone building where Professor Layton lived during the rare occasions he was at home. In recent years, after taking in an Apprentice, the house was that little bit more cheerful. Luke was the son Layton never had, and they lived together in the less-quiet old house. Even more recently, a young waif called Flora had come to stay with Luke and the Professor under complex circumstances. At any rate, they made quite a happy little family and the house was often cheerful nowadays.

And then, a fourth had joined them. An older boy, or, really a young man who had some nasty rumours going around about him. Some said he was quite mad. Regardless, The kind professor took him in and all four of them lived together in the noisy little, tall, thin house.

"I think it's time for some tea" The professor announced to nobody in particular, raising from his desk and sauntering toward the kitchen. The older boy, who was reading by the dusty fireplace, looked up and watched him walk by.

The professor put his head back around the door;

"Tea. Clive, would you like some?" he asked politely, but tripped over the words slightly. He hadn't been quite himself since meeting this fascinating young gentleman. He had been so convincing as an older version of Luke and it had been hard for The Professor to even break out of the habit of calling him by that name, but something was different now, and he had yet to figure out what.

"Yes Professor, that would be lovely. Thank you", he smiled back up at him and watched the spot he had just been standing in after he'd left. This was Professor Layton! He mentally scolded himself. He shouldn't stare like an awestruck young girl, but he couldn't help it, he loved the Professor in many ways, but most recently in ways that simply weren't appropriate for a gentleman. It was embarassing, but he did his best to hide it.
Flora and the young Luke were already in the kitchen when the professor got there, it seemed Flora was busying herself with studies and Luke had taken to doing puzzles beside her while she did so. He had taken it to heart when the Professor said that a true gentleman pays attention to schoolwork. Being only ten years old, Luke had no schoolwork to pay attention to during the weekend.

"Are you going to make tea professor?" Flora asked, looking up from her work. It was mostly out of politeness that she asked; the answer was always going to be yes.
"Yes my dear, Clive and I were going to have some tea, would you two like to join us?"
"No no... In fact yes, that would be nice. Actually I have a special recipie for a kind of tea I haven't tried before, would you mind if I made that for...us?" Flora seemed very keen on being helpful around the house. Of course the Professor allowed that, smiling at the girl and thanking her, completely oblivious to the calculating gleam in her eye.

"We've completely run out of sugar for the tea!" stated Flora, as she brought the tray with the teapot and only two cups on it out of the kitchen.
"Luke prefers sweet tea, we will go to the shop to buy some more sugar" she recited, turned on her heel, and left.
"What an odd girl" Clive remarked bluntly, while Layton poured the tea in a more polite manner and choose to say nothing. The tea smelled wonderful, it certainly wasn't a blend he'd ever encountered before. The liquid was even pink! How very like Flora, he thought to himself with a chuckle and passed the other teacup over to Clive, who had rested his book on the arm of his chair and was staring into the fire that was crackling in the hearth.
The yellow light really sparked in the boys eyes. Giving him a warm glow, and at the same time a slightly off-kilter look. He shuffled a little in his chair, angling towards the fire for more warmth and took a sip from his cup. The liquid wet his round, youthful lips and the firelight made them gleam.
Wait, what was he thinking? The Professor dragged his stare away from the young man and down to his tea. It was already half gone. He hadn't even noticed he was drinking it! It was sweet, far too sweet to need sugar, but had a hot, almost spicy flavour in it too. It was hot too. Of course it was hot, tea is supposed to be hot, but this tea just seemed to be extra warming. Maybe it was the spice, or the sweetness. It didn't matter. It was hot, the whole room was.
His eyes flickered back up to the room, and caught Clive's eyes. He was staring right back. They both flushed and looked away, hoping the other hadn't noticed.
"Interesting tea, this one, Flora made it" Layton broke the silence awkwardly, trying to make the atmosphere less heavy and distract himself from the lurid things his mind seemed to want to embarrass him with.
"It is interesting. I'm quite enjoying it though" Clive poured a second cup, his slender but capable fingers wrapping around the handle of the tea pot to lift it. The Professor felt the blood rush away from his head. He looked at the boy across from him as if seeing him for the first time. The sharp lines of his jacket clashed with his rough, haphazard hair. His trousers seemed a little too tight all of a sudden, as if they shouldn't be showing the shape of his leg so much. And the bare gap across his knee, above his perfectly straight socks was too big wasn't it?
He couldn't take his eyes off Clive's legs, and knew he wasn't being subtle anymore. As if to break him out of the daze, the boy wriggled a little more, un-crossed and re-crossed his legs, adjusted his tie, and cleared his throat. He was blushing. Layton felt a niggling note of panic and embarrassment in the back of his mind, but something else entirely was stopping it really bothering him. He was quite content to sit there, on the comfortable sofa, next to the warm fire, and admire the beautiful creature he was sharing tea with. Tea! There was an idea. He leaned forward to pour another cup.

Clive knew his mind was addled. He had been told so, and it was obvious from the outbursts he still suffered. But this was a different kind of madness. He had thought of the Professor in un-gentlemanly ways before, but he had never really seen the extent of how attractive he was until now. Reclined on the sofa across from him, the prestigious and well known Professor Layton seemed lost in thought. His face was quite pale. The way he cradled the delicate teacup in his large, gentle hands and sipped at it ever so slowly... quite frankly it was turning him on.
And then there was the tounge. Clive was no fool, he knew the professor well enough to know that he wouldn't ever do something like that deliberately. But Layton was definitely, softly licking the rim of his teacup.