Things had been going pretty well in his college career, Sorey thought. He'd gotten into the same prestigious university that Mikleo had gotten into a year ago, on a full scholarship. He'd gotten into the same advanced archaeology courses Mikleo was currently TA-ing. He'd been doing great – at this rate, his advisor was sure to let him double up on classes and he'd be able to graduate in the same class as Mikleo. Then it was grad school, and then, the world.
Mikleo had come by for a study session after class, and they'd fallen into the same high school habits: Mikleo tsking at the state of his room, scolding him for having nothing but a half-eaten gallon of ice cream and an unopened bottle of ketchup in his mini-fridge, and stocking said mini-fridge with the contents of a mysterious grocery bag he'd brought along.
Sorey swept books off his bed to make a reasonably comfortable study spot, and by the time Mikleo had finished stuffing his fridge with dozens of individually labeled Tupperware tins, Sorey was perched on the bed in his underpants, a pencil clutched between his teeth. He waggled his eyebrows and patted the space next to him.
Mikleo's eyebrows raised at Sorey's boxers. He stared so long that Sorey could no longer assume he was admiring the sight of…oh. Sorey finally glanced down at himself. He forgot it was getting close to laundry day. He'd ran out of underpants and was on his last pair; a Thomas the Tank Engine print that he'd had since middle school – making them threadbare and deeply, precariously tight, considering the current state of his boner regarding its general proximity to Mikleo. This wasn't how he'd wanted to spend his first study session at college with Mikleo – also he wasn't sure how he'd even gotten into these underpants in the first place, or how he'd ever get himself back out.
Just when he thought his planned seduction of his TA had gone off the rails (a tragedy on every level, especially with Mikleo wearing that oversized sweater), Mikleo had drawn close while he wasn't paying attention. Mikleo straddled and loomed over him, dipping his fingers into the too-tight elastic that bit into Sorey's skin. He pulled the elastic back and let it snap against Sorey's stomach, smile twitching at how Sorey's muscles jumped and clenched.
"Take those ridiculous things off, and let's hit the books."
