Life went on.
Well, the weekend did.
Life just kind of… Slowed down.
Lucifer went back to his apartment at a weird, half-jog kind of pace. He had his trusty half-melted Milky Way Bars practically completely smashed in his sweaty palms.
Oh, and his half-chub was a thing as well.
Sam continued to jack off to the thought of his hot professor every single fucking chance he got, even experimentally pressing a finger to his hole to send him right over the glorious edge.
Not to mention he was totally screaming his teacher's name when he came.
Not to mention it was the best orgasm of his fucking life.
Life was pretty strange.
…And then Monday came.
Obviously this was more of a struggle for our horribly morally conflicted teacher, but poor little ignorant Sam felt just as embarrassed the moment class started.
Mr. M was late as always, strutting in with a sleek black suit that cradled that gorgeous body just perfectly.
Sam did his best to refrain from drooling.
And he managed.
His mouth went completely dry.
As did Mr. M's, who ended up shoving about six tic-tacs into his mouth before he started lecturing for a feeble attempt at getting his saliva glands back up and running.
They made eyes contact only twice, lucky for Mr. M, because all he could hear in his head was those beautiful, breathy little pants from his perfect little Sammy.
Naughty, dastardly positions he'd been deprived of.
Sammy's lean, long fingers plugging up his tight little hole.
On Sam's end, he was sweating.
He wasn't hot or anything, not in his thin Stanford t-shirt and pair of jeans.
His face was on fire. He was sure it was as red as a freshly sucked hickey.
He was convinced that Mr. Morningstar's hotness was literally heating up the entire room around him.
Especially when he got close to him, which didn't happen too often today.
Mr. M usually walked around the room when he lectured, scanning everyone's faces and making sure they all understood the material with the practiced face-reading that all good teachers had.
That hadn't ever been a problem for Sam, but it did make him feel a little left out when his teacher just skipped right over him.
He brushed it off.
Mostly.
"Winchester."
Here we go again.
"Sir?"
Ahem, cue the squeaks.
And the awkward throat clearing from Mr. M.
Huh. That was new.
"Who is the God of fire?"
You know that one asshole teacher you had in ninth grade that asks completely irrelevant and off topic questions while lecturing about something completely different?
That was Lucifer in a nutshell.
"Uh…"
The sound of Mr. Morningstar chuckling was always one of the most beautiful things Sam got to hear.
It was the kind of smooth that was reserved for butter and new calendars.
"Eros?"
Again, there was a small laugh from the teacher, one of those tiny, barely-there ones that totally made Sam shudder.
"Really, Sammy? Eros is the God of love and lust and all that jazz. Can't stop thinking about the naughty for five seconds, can you?"
Half the classroom got quiet, half erupted into a cloud of laughter.
It wasn't unusual for students to get a little naughty with their teachers at Stanford.
Especially ones that looked like Mr. Morningstar.
Be it for the grades or for the looks, it happened.
A lot.
And, now the rumors would start all over again.
Sam turned into a complete blubbering mess after that, unable to think let alone speak properly.
"N-No! I just… I thought-!"
"Hephaestus is the God of fire. Write it down. It'll be on the exam." Lucifer spoke sternly, but he was smiling at Sam.
He looked downright mischievous.
Sam, on the other hand, was sixty-nine shades of baboon ass.
Class didn't last much longer.
Lucifer ended it with saying a few more things about a few more Greek God's, looking at Sam dead in the eyes as he explained the various duties of a Greek God.
Those big, hazel eyes made Mr. M fucking melt.
The way they just sucked Lucifer in was one of the reasons he actually started writing those dumb little notes.
Speaking of, he was totally screwed.
Before he could even finish the thought, class was dismissed and every student funneled out.
Including little Sammy.
Lucifer's heart lurched after him.
Sam went to soccer practice immediately after class, which was normal and honestly kind of boring anymore.
He was carrying the team for sure, his growing strength and speed making him a pretty good player.
So, it'd be fairly boring.
That is, until, a certain someone asked him out on a date.
It happened right after practice had finished.
The girl had been on the sidelines the entire time, laughing absently with a group of people while they all looked at Sam.
It wasn't completely unusual for other students to hang out in the stands; especially if they had a significant other playing.
Easier to have sex under the bleachers afterwards.
It was honestly the last thing he was expecting.
She approached him when the final whistle was blown, trudging over onto the field in her clumpy heels like a pro.
Sam looked behind him, thinking she was walking up to greet someone else.
He was pretty sure he actually went into shock when he realized she was talking to him.
"Hey, Sam right? You're in my Thursday class." She was a perfect blonde, complete with curls and a wad of gum in between her teeth.
"Yeah." Sam sounded almost breathless, completely unbelieving.
Sam didn't get girls.
Sam got athletes foot and weird crushes on old dudes.
"Yeah, like, I was wondering if you'd wanna take me out tomorrow night? I totally saw you looking at me in creative writing the other day. Practically gushing."
Amber Peters was one of the prettiest girls at Stanford.
And she'd just asked Sam out.
On a date.
"You mean… You mean like a date?"
It didn't hurt to clarify.
"Yeah, totally! So… Is that a yes?"
"I-I…"
Was it a yes?
This had all completely thrown Sam through a loop.
And he didn't have time to explain his… Crush?… Relationship?… A little less than innocent admiration of a sexy college professor-itis?
"Yes."
Mr. M and Sam weren't going anywhere. That couldn't happen, and deep down Sam knew it was only just some dumb fantasy.
"Cool! Meet me at the Coupa Cafe at the Green Library tomorrow at six."
Amber kissed Sam's cheek quickly before scampering off, going back over to where her friends were and starting to laugh all over again with them.
Sam couldn't help but be excited.
This was just what he needed to get over… Whatever it was.
