For the next two weeks, Jack made little to no eye contact with Professor Bunnymund. As expected, perhaps, between a student and a professor outside class time, but every time Jack deliberately turned his gaze away from his Journalism professor, his cheeks burned and flushed.

"Hey, you're blushing," Jamie commented on one such unfortunate occasion.

Jack stammered as Professor Bunnymund strode by, carrying the tantalizing whiff of deodorant with him. "Nothing, nothing. It's just hot, that's all."

Jack completed his assignment on the police brutality protest and submitted it. A few days later, he received it back with the rest of the class. He'd gotten a good mark, and scrawled on the front page was Bunnymund's handwriting: Good work, Mr. Frost.

Jack crumpled the paper angrily into his bag.

The weather was slowly changing – the leaves falling from the trees. Winter's chill was in the air, and although the snow and ice had yet to arrive, Chicagoans were bundling up in coats and scarves. Jack didn't mind – he loved the cold.

One day, as his classmates stood preparing to leave, gathering their books and files and pulling on their winter clothes, Professor Bunnymund called Jack up to the front of the room.

"Mr. Frost?"

The familiar voice cut through Jack like a knife. Turning slowly, he kept his eyes on the ground as he walked to meet the professor, then slowly moved his gaze upwards.

Those grey eyes. It was all Jack could do to stop himself from sucking in a breath.

Grey eyes, gazing into Jack's, filled with desire, and longing, and wonder. Jack wrapped his arms around broad shoulders as they moved up and down, going incrementally faster, faster, faster, and stared back into those eyes, communicating wordlessly, showing rather than telling how these movements set Jack on edge, had him ready to cry out and climb to that plateau

Jack shook himself mentally, and focused on Professor Bunnymund's eyes. They were expressionless, filled with the same politeness he showed to all his students.

"Mr. Frost, I was wondering if you could bring me a coffee today at 5, if that isn't an inconvenience to you. I'll be staying late at college today, marking some papers."

Five o'clock. Virtually all the teachers would have left by then, and the students. Jack wouldn't have, though – he stayed in the library until at least 4:30, most days, working. Professor Bunnymund must've known this – Jack must've told him on one of the occasions he'd brought him coffee.

He hadn't brought him coffee for two weeks, and the professor had never asked him to.

Jack struggled to keep his voice distant as he replied, "No problem, professor. I'll be there at five."

~~Page Break~~

Jack strode down the staff corridors, clutching Professor Bunnymund's coffee. He carried his backpack, too – after this, he was going home to watch movies and relax for the weekend. He had absolutely nothing planned, and he loved it.

The staff were all gone, Jack noted. Just not Bunnymund. He worked hard, all day, every day. Nothing mattered to him more than his job, Jack thought bitterly as he knocked.

"Come in."

Jack entered. Professor Bunnymund sat at his desk, a file spread open in front of him.

"Ah, Mr. Frost," he said. "If you wouldn't mind setting my coffee down by the door?"

Jack turned slightly to place the coffee down on the small coffee table that stood near the entrance to the office, allowing the door to swing shut. As with everything in Bunnymund's life, the office was well-ordered, nothing out of place. Jack set the coffee down and turned to leave, beginning to think of the movies he'd watch.

"You must think I'm an asshole."

Startled, Jack turned. "What?"

Bunnymund's head was in his hands, his elbows resting on his desk. "The way I treated you, two weeks ago, after that night…you must think I'm an asshole."

Jack's heart began to beat faster in his chest. "I'll admit, that description did come to mind."

Professor Bunnymund laughed mirthlessly. "I deserve it. I was so rude to you – thinking that I cared only about my job, not about your feelings. Thinking I was ashamed that I'd slept with someone like you."

Jack stepped closer.

"The truth is, I was scared," Bunnymund whispered. "But not scared to lose my job, not scared to be unemployed…I was scared of you."

"Me?" Jack's voice was a whisper now too.

"You." Bunnymund got to his feet and moved around the desk, slowly approaching Jack. "That night – I felt a connection to you. Something more than a growing attraction, which is what I've felt since we met – a deep connection, to you. I couldn't stop myself when I had you. You bring out an animal side in me – a primal side, a side of me that stops at nothing to get what it wants. And what it wants – what I want – is you."

Jack stared up at him. "Well, you've done a good job of hiding it," he whispered brokenly.

"Don't you see? I had to. That kind of physical passion, I've never felt it. I was scared of it. Scared of you, for commanding it in me." His grey eyes were full of emotion now. "I had to push you away, because I was afraid. I thought it would go away if I ignored it. But – I have, and it hasn't. It's still there, stronger every time I have class with you, no matter how hard I try."

"Then don't try," Jack whispered. They were drawing slowly, oh so slowly closer together. "Don't try."

"I can't," Bunnymund – Aster – whispered. "I can't. You're my student. I'd be taking liberties."

They were face to face now, Jack gazing up at the taller man. "Take them," he whispered.

For a moment, Aster stared at him. Then he bent down and kissed Jack.

Just as last time, the kisses set Jack aflame. He floundered and drowned in each hungry, longing kiss, speaking of weeks of barely suppressed desire, now uncorked and bubbling to a boil. His arms went around Aster's shoulders, pulling him in, pulling him closer.

Aster's arms went around Jack's waist, and suddenly he was lifting him in the air, and Jack's legs wrapped around Aster's hips. Still kissing him, Aster carried Jack to his desk, and set him down on its edge. Jack sat upright, still wrapped closely around Aster, clinging to him, kissing him.

Aster broke away briefly, panting heavily. "God, Jack," he whispered, and went to kiss him again.

Jack's fingers found the hem of his own shirt. With Aster's help, he pulled it up and over his head. Aster's lips kissed Jack's one last time, and then he was moving downwards, trailing kisses down Jack's neck, down his chest. Aster's lips reached Jack's right nipple and suddenly Jack was moaning, gasping at the feeling of Aster's lips kissing and playing with his nipple, leaving him breathless and panting for air.

He leaned back on his hands as Aster left his nipple and continued pressing urgent kisses down his abdomen, down to the hem of his pants. Grabbing the buckle, he unfastened it with expert fingers, and Jack felt his calloused fingers on his belly. Then, he was sliding Jack's pants off. They hit the ground, and Jack was left before Aster, fully naked.

He felt surprisingly vulnerable as Aster looked him up and down, his hungry eyes eating him up. Aster, by contrast, was still fully clothed, but that made him no less sexy in Jack's eyes as he whispered, "You're going to ruin me."

Then he bent in, and his mouth closed around Jack, and Jack was forthwith reduced to inarticulate moans and gasps, crying out as Aster took him in.

The sensations were astounding in their magnitude. They ruled Jack's body, setting every muscle, every tissue aflame. All Jack could think about was more, more, more. His fingers found Aster's hair and tangled themselves in it as Aster's head bobbed.

Jack could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, and knew what this meant, knew what he was fast approaching. Just as he was about to hit it, that point of no return, Aster stopped. Jack whimpered as he pulled away from Jack, wiping his lips.

"I can't help myself," Aster whispered, coming in closer to Jack. "I have to have you."

"Then take me," Jack whispered.

Aster pushed Jack backwards until he was lying flat on the desk, Jack spreading his legs slightly. He heard something unzip, and then Aster moved forward, and he was in Jack, and Jack saw stars.

There was something thrilling about being taken like this, Jack as naked as Aster was clothed. Jack's arms wrapped around Aster's shoulders and felt the fabric of Aster's shirt until Aster's hands took Jack's and pinned them down at his side. "How do you like it?"

"Don't – stop," Jack gasped out.

He'd never known he'd feel this way, so badly, as Aster made love to him, his hips thrusting faster and faster against him. Jack's naked legs wrapped themselves around Aster's waist. The sound of Aster's grunts drove Jack crazy, spurring him to new heights as he added his own moans to the mix.

"I-I-I'm going to…" he tried to warn Aster as he felt the heat pooling in his stomach again, felt himself approaching that high place once more.

Then, Aster hit a spot inside Jack, a spot that made Jack's world spin and break apart, and he lost all semblance of control he had retained up till now. Wordlessly, he cried out, unable to help the long, drawn-out cry of ecstasy as he expressed unspeakable pleasure. Moments later, with a few more thrusts, Aster followed, collapsing onto Jack's naked and sweaty chest as he cried out Jack's name again and again.

For a moment, they lay there, panting and speechless, trying to regain their breath. Then, Aster raised himself on his hands.

"How did that compare to last time?" he asked, trying for a smile.

Jack gazed tiredly up at him. "I can't even begin to describe it." Looking at Aster's shirt, he frowned. "Sorry…about that." He gestured to where he'd made a mess of Aster's shirt, towards his belly – dark blotches now marked what had been a light blue shirt.

Jack tried to sit up a little bit, but even spent, the feeling of Aster, still inside him, made him moan lowly. Aster closed his eyes in silent agreement.

"So – what now?" Jack gasped. "And do not tell me I am a mistake this time."

Aster regarded him with amusement. "Well – in my experience, a first date is usually what's called for."

"A date sounds great, professor."

Aster laughed, and the vibrations of his laughter did interesting things to the way he was still positioned inside Jack, making Jack moan again. "A date it is, then."