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Chapter 3: Almost there
The music was loud.
It was dark.
And Sam couldn't see anything.
Those were the first three things Sam was aware of. There were bunch of people in the gym and everyone was dancing erratically to the techno music that was blasting. Sam couldn't say who was whose date and who was dancing with whom. They were all over each other and there were some heavy make out sessions here and there by the looks of it.
Sam looked around the room; it was heavily decorated with Halloween pumpkins, skeletons, even ghosts. He could also see some shadows on the walls that were being cast by some passersby. It was creepy and cool at the same time. Castiel has done a pretty good job on this, thought Sam as he looked around the room.
He spotted the punch bowl across the room and started to make his way towards it. It wasn't an easy task. Being the nerd boy that Sam was, he wore Aragorn's costume, complete with the sword. People were all watching him, yelling over the music and saying how cool his outfit was and he would smile and nod at them. He saw someone wearing angel wings and thought of whom it might've been, but he completely forgot about it as he was almost close to the punch bowl and he saw who was standing near it.
Wearing black suit, with white shirt, hair spiked up and looking elegant was Professor Nichols. Sam's mouth went dry as he saw the small smile that was playing at the corner of his lip. He was looking at the dancing people in front of him, but Sam didn't pay any attention to who he was actually watching. He looked, dare he say, strikingly hot, and gorgeous. Sam had to lick his lips because they were dry too. He swallowed hard and made his way towards the bowl, pouring himself a bit of the drink he felt like someone was watching him. He turned and looked to his right. There he was; his gorgeous Professor, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. He was relaxed, and his expression was, for the first time, readable. Sam didn't know if he was the only one who could see the change on his face, but he felt his breath leave him.
Nichols was beautiful.
In his own odd way, he was beautiful. His eyes were the lightest of green, but in the dim light they were a bit darker. Sam licked his lips and looked down; he cleared his throat and looked up again. He stepped towards Nichols and smiled.
"Evening, Professor."
"Hello," his voice was low and gravely. Sam tried not to shiver. Damn Nichols and his voice. "Nice costume." He complimented Sam's outfit as he slowly raked it with his eyes. Sam felt every move those eyes made on him.
"Thanks," Sam whispered, then cleared his throat again. "So… Halloween." Nichols looked at Sam and nodded, waiting for something. "Uhm…" Sam didn't really know why he said that. He was acting like a stupid teenage boy. He was 24 for fuck's sake! He had to start talking or Nichols would start thinking that he was some kind of an idiot. It wasn't like he didn't think of him like that, but still. It was embarrassing to think that he was a stuttering mess when it came to talking to Nichols outside of class. What were you supposed to talk about to your hot, intimidating Professor outside of class?
"Halloween, yes. Good job, Sammy, you do know what day it is today," said Nichols sarcastically, and Sam blushed. Good thing it was dark.
"Ha ha yeah. Uh… why aren't you dressed up?" asked Sam the first thing that came into his mind.
"Oh I am," replied Nichols, seriously. "I'm wearing my "I don't care if it's Halloween and you've thrown this big boring party for it" costume. You like it?"
Sam swallowed as Nichols asked him that question. "Very much." His voice sounded hoarse. He took a drink and stayed silent, afraid if he spoke his next words would be something that he would regret his whole life.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" the question was unexpected and Sam jumped a little because he'd thought their conversing was over; apparently, it wasn't.
"Sleep, I guess. Being Saturday and all… why do you ask?"
"I was thinking of having the extra class you've missed today because of this party," he looked straight into Sam's eyes and drank whatever he was drinking before Sam joined him.
Sam blinked several times and said in a low voice. "Yeah, sure… why not."
"Good," Nichols finished his drink and placed the glass on the table. He clapped Sam on the shoulder once and left him there.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he was left alone. He had thought his heart was going to burst from his chest when Nichols touched him. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed softly through his nose, to get himself back together.
He had a crush on Nichols.
Now, he was really sure of it.
He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Something's bothering you?" Sam looked up and it was Garth. He was wearing a Yoda costume, his face was painted green, and he even used pointy ears. Sam secretly thought that the additional ears were unnecessary, but he kept it to himself.
"No, no. Everything's fine," Sam tried to smile at him, but he failed and then sighed.
"You can talk to me, you know?" Garth was such a sweet guy, and Sam was grateful to have him as his friend. They had become quick friends when they first met.
"Yeah I know, I just… I'm not completely comfortable about talking about it. Not right now, anyway." Sam looked down at his drink and bit his lip.
"Well, there's always time and a place for that kind of stuff, right?" Garth said cheerfully. "Now," he clapped his hands together. "Let's go and talk to some girls, or boys, or whatever you prefer, eh?"
Sam laughed softly and nodded. "Yeah sure."
After that the evening past by pretty fast, by the time Sam got back to his room, his palm was covered with phone numbers that multiple girls gave him. He was planning on washing them off as soon as he got back to his room. He wasn't interested in any of them. Sure they were beautiful, in their own way, but he didn't want them in any way that they wanted him. He was positive that his costume was the only reason that the girls were interested in him. He sighed and walked into his room. Garth was already fast asleep, being the first one to come back to their room, after his failing attempts at flirting with Jo Harvelle, who was in the same year as Dean. Sam shook his head and started to get undressed.
He had seen Dean and Castiel a few times during the party. They both were pretty occupied by each other. And they were connected by mouth, so Sam had decided to leave them in peace. He would talk to Dean later about how it had gone.
He undressed and got into shower. The rooms had adjoining showers, which was a lot better than having a bathroom shared with multiple people. Turning the water on warm he let his head fall down and rest against the wall. He was going to have a class tomorrow with Nichols. They were going to be alone. He didn't know how he was going to act around Nichols now that he'd realized that he had a crush on him. Was he going to act like nothing happened or what?
He really didn't know what to do.
He shut the water and walked out of the tab. He started to dry himself up. He grabbed clean boxers from the drawer and pulled them on. He then padded towards his bed and flopped down on it. He was beyond exhausted and he needed to sleep so he could wake up and go to his class.
Sam groaned into his pillow thinking of how much he'd prefer to hate Nichols for doing that to him and on Saturday! They could've had the class on Monday for two hours to make up for today. But no, he had to call him in tomorrow.
Sam sighed and turned on his side. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, waiting for sleep to come.
Sam trudged down the stairs towards the main hall so he could make his way to the Lit classroom. He was exhausted. He can't remember how he woke up, or how he got ready, or how he was managing to stay up on his legs, and even making an effort to go to the classroom. It was at the other side of the university.
Sam yawned into his hand and started to walk a bit faster, as fast as he could, given the state he was in, and when he made it to the classroom, he was rather relieved. He opened the door and stepped inside, finding that Nichols was already there. He was so engrossed in some paper work that at first he didn't hear Sam.
Sam walked slowly towards the desk, and made sure to not make any noise. He wanted to look at him as much as he could. Nichols looked the same; hair spiked up, wearing a t-shirt, and a shirt over it, with sleeves rolled up and he had his glasses on. He looked…sexy. Sam licked his lips as he saw Nichols biting on his lower lip. How he wished to bite on those lips…
He cleared his throat and smiled crookedly as Nichols looked up from his papers.
"Alright? You look like you had a rough night last night."
"You don't say," replied Sam sarcastically, and clamped his mouth shut almost immediately. He blushed and looked down. "I mean, uh…"
"Grab that chair and bring it over here," Nichols told Sam and jerked his head to his left side. Sam nodded and grabbed the chair and brought it over. He sat down and waited. "I'm marking some essays. Help me out with them."
"No reading? No discussion on something? What about "Family Happiness" that I read a few days ago?" Sam asked surprised. Not that he was complaining, but he was actually curious.
"We'll get to them next week. Right now, I need you to help me do this. It's rather enjoyable, really. When you read what these students write in their essays, thinking that they are being geniuses and thinking they could surprise me." Nichols placed some papers in front of Sam and tilted his head. "Go on. Do it."
"But…is it allowed to let me do…your work for you?"
Nichols looked at Sam and sighed. "It is illegal of me to make you do my own work for me, but no one's going to find out. And I think it's good for you to check them for me."
"Why?"
"Because it's part of our class," Nichols picked up his pen and started jot down something on the paper. "Now, will you start working, or should I assign you something more boring than this?"
Sam sighed and picked up a pen from the desk and scooted his chair towards the desk and started to read the essay.
Turned out, working with Nichols wasn't as bad as he thought it could be. Sure, Sam felt like he had to ask questions now and then, but he didn't really feel like disturbing the silence that was between them. At one point, Sam noticed that Nichols was left handed and him being right handed didn't really do much to help Sam to actually concentrate on the task on hand, because whenever one of them moved their hands to write something on the paper, their arms would touch each other ever so slightly and Sam would feel like fainting from the mere touch. He was crushing. And he was crushing real badly.
He glanced up from his paper and looked at Nichols, finding him already watching. Sam quickly looked down at his paper, but he didn't read, feeling Nichols eyes on his face. He gripped the pen tighter and cleared his throat, shifting on his chair he started to pretend that he was reading to get Nichols attention away from him. Moments later, he relaxed once more when he felt Nichols writing something on the paper. He sighed in relief and started to read. He learned that Nichols was right; these essays were rather hilarious and some of them even made him to giggle or snort out loud.
Unbeknownst to him, Nichols was looking at him fondly whenever he did so. He liked seeing a smile on the boy's face.
Maybe an hour has passed, Sam didn't know, but he was enjoying himself way too much to even care about the time. He was sitting right next to the man that he apparently had a crush on, he was marking some essays and he was feeling rather content. He liked this feeling. Whenever they'd write something at the same time, their arms would brush together and neither of them would say anything if they left their hands at close proximity to each other, chances being high of being touched by one another, even if it was a soft touch. A mere whisper of touch was enough to send Sam reeling. He would grip his pen tight and breath in and out, erratically, trying to calm his racing heart. After that he would go back to reading, as if nothing had happened to him, or his heart, rather.
He chanced a glance at Nichols. His brows were furrowed as if he was reading something that he didn't understand. On closer look, Sam soon found out that Nichols wasn't reading he was starring at the paper, his eyes unmoving. Sam frowned. "Professor?" At his voice Nichols looked up at him, his frown marring his features more. "Are you alright?" Sam felt like he was talking to a wall, because Nichols was silent. Sam licked his lips and frowned.
When he licked his lips, Sam thought that he saw Nichols eyes move to them. Well, it was a weird thing to notice now, was it? Sam would've liked to think that, because otherwise he didn't want to think about what Nichols actually thought. He would never even try to stop him from leaping onto his lap and having his way with him. He took a deep, steadying breath, and asked once more. "Professor, are you alright?"
"Sam," Nichols voice was gruff, and Sam shivered at the sound of it. "What do you really think of me?" Sam's frown deepened. Well, the question was rather surprising, really. Sam opened his mouth several times and then closed it and looked at him, feeling lost. Nichols let out a sigh and then proceeded to say. "I know what students think of me, I know what your brother thinks of me too. I know everything and anything that comes out of their mouth whenever they talk about me. But…" Nichols turned on his sit and leaned forward, getting into Sam's personal space and closer to his face. "I'd rather know from you, what you think of me? Am I evil, like everyone keeps saying? Or am I a better man than that?"
Sam took a deep breath, suddenly finding it hard to breath. His brain turned into a mush and he was looking down at Nichols lips. They were so close to him, all he had to do was to lean in and capture them into a kiss. But he asked a question, and Sam had to answer to him. "You are a better man than that," Sam whispered, his voice rough. "You are better in anything, really. I don't see how people can think that you are evil. You are only doing your job." Sam looked at the paper in front of Nichols and then added, "Okay, you are kind of evil. But I wouldn't call it 'evil', I'd rather call it… rude, or blunt. You speak your mind," Sam looked back at him, "Which is greatly appreciated from me... I like yo-uh, how you can tell a person what you think of them without feeling guilt over it. I don't think you need to feel bad about being who you really are. Because that's what makes you Professor Nichols."
"Lucifer."
"What?"
"My name…" he cleared his throat. "It's Lucifer."
"Oh…" Sam breathed out. Lucifer. His name was Lucifer. How beautiful it sounded. "Did you know that it means "shining one, morning star."?"
"It does?" Lucifer was inching closer.
"Yeah," breathed out Sam. He could feel every breath that Nichols was taking and he could smell him. It was arousing, intoxicating, and dangerous. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; he almost collapsed from the sheer arousal he felt going through his system at the scent of him. Sam licked his lips and inched closer. He opened his eyes and felt himself drowning and Lucifer's light green eyes.
"Sam?" Lucifer whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I'd like to kiss you… Is that alright if I did that?" Lucifer's face was inches away, lips so close to Sam's that he could taste them as he replied with a sigh of 'yeah'. Sam's heart was beating fast. So fast that he was afraid that it was going to break his rib cage. He was excited, beyond excited, he was thrilled. He was going to be kissed by his crush. By Lucifer. By the man that he dreamt of nonstop. But the kiss never came.
As soon as they were about to capture their lips, Sam's phone had gone off and Sam cursed rather colorfully under his breath. Lucifer pulled back from him and was out of his chair in no time, while Sam fished out his phone and flipped it open. "What?" he snapped into it.
"Woah, Sammy, no need to rip my head off." It was Dean. Really? Timing, Dean!
"What do you want?" asked Sam, rather rudely.
"Didn't sleep well last night?"
Sam groaned into his phone. "Dean, if you have nothing else to say besides more nonsense, I suggest you end the call. I'm busy." Or rather was busy, judging by how Lucifer was standing in front of the window, looking outside. It was going to rain soon.
"Busy with what, exactly?" Dean's voice was curious, but Sam merely sighed and Dean chuckled. "Alright, alright! No need to get snippy on me, Sammy-boy. I just called you to say that Cas and I have last night's pictures, if you wanna come and see them?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few."
"Great! See you then."
"Yeah." Sam clicked his phone shut and placed it into his pocket.
And then there was silence in the classroom.
It was thick with tension, but Sam couldn't point out which kind of tension it was. He stood up and walked towards where Lucifer was standing. He stood up next to him and looked out of the window. Then Lucifer spoke. "I think you should go now, Sam." His voice was low, and sounded so different from his usual gruffness, that Sam looked at him. Simply looked.
Lucifer looked disappointed, sad…even upset. He was frowning, again. Sam didn't like it when he frowned; it somehow made him look even older than he really was. Sam didn't even know how old he was, nor did he care. He looked almost defeated, tired, even. Sam knew that he had to go, so he did so, not before whispering. "Don't regret anything." Lucifer looked up at Sam, his eyes full of desperate hope that was so raw that Sam had to look away. "I'll see you around, Professor."
