College AU! Hell yeah!
...
Both of them froze. Just as quickly, he pulled his hand off her knee, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"Sorry, I-"
"It's fine-"
"I didn't mean-"
"Consider it forgotten." Her words, pinched and rushed, struck him harder than they ought to.
"Forgotten?" He prodded before he could stop himself.
"Well, maybe not forgotten, but… You understand." Definitely not forgotten. She was going to remember this moment, dwell on it obsessively later, try untangle the entire thing.
"If my behavior offends, I apologize."
"I'm not offended."
"Then I suppose I rescind my apology," he smiled at her, his curled lip exposing his teeth, and deep within her something chattered.
"Professor, I-"
"Miss Baudelaire, I do not mean to give you the wrong impression. It may seem like I am a older man, flirting with a young girl."
"But?" She hesitated, waiting for the sting of his rejection.
"But nothing. I'm simply stating that is probably how this looks."
Slowly, she nodded, cautious, "It's probably a good thing no one's looking."
"My thoughts exactly. I'd hate for anyone to get the wrong idea about how I feel about you."
"Of course. Although," pausing, she weighed her words, "without context, how do you suppose it would look?"
"Well," leaning back, he stretched his arms out along the back of the futon until his hand rested behind her. "Anyone who looked without bothering to find out the whole story would probably think that I admire your tenacity and talent for the arts, while still finding delight in your willingness to argue any point."
"Is that all?"
"Well, if they had the wrong sort of idea," he leaned closer to her, his voice dropping to a throaty purr, "they might accuse me of thinking of you in that red skirt entirely too often. They might even suppose that sometimes, I spend even more time thinking about what's underneath it."
Her heart beating in her throat, she nodded slowly, "Sort of like how people might think I come to your office hours so often with so many questions because I don't pay attention?"
"Exactly. Because, as we both know," Slowly, he slid his hand back onto her knee, "You are a very good student."
"And if they watched me too closely during lecture, they might think I didn't hear a word you said, too busy wondering."
"Wondering what?"
"If you're just as cocky in bed."
"Yes," he smirked, moving his hand up her leg. "That would be awful."
"They might even think I noticed your face and wore the red skirt on purpose last week."
"You little cheat-" he caught himself. "Yes, well. It's a good thing that I keep all of my academic relationships professional."
"And it's a very good thing no one's watching." Taking the plunge, she closed the little space still left between them, feeling the soft give of his lips beneath hers. Swiftly, his hand slid to her waist, holding her as his other hand cupped her face, kissing her with a passion that only comes from the constant pressure of restraint. She sighed into the kiss, gasping at his cold hands as his fingers brushed her side beneath her shirt.
He gripped her tightly, not one to give up on a prize. Sliding his hand behind her to the naked skin of her back, he pulled her into his open lap. She, adorably, fumbled, her nervous fingers tight behind his neck, as if he could ever willingly remove himself from her grasp. Ever the pupil, she waited for his lead, letting him push his tongue between her teeth before she reciprocated.
"This is dangerous," she muttered the words against his face.
"Do you like danger, Miss Baudelaire?" He smirked, breaking the kiss to move his lips along her thin neck.
"Sometimes. Depends."
"Depends on what?"
"The payoff."
"Fair enough. How do you feel about doing a little extra credit?"
"Do I need it?"
"Not particularly, but I've got a few things I'd very much like to teach you."
"In that case, I'd be much obliged."
"Good." Smirking, he slid his hands behind her, gripping her rear, pulling her towards him again. Laughing nervously, she allowed herself to be pressed to his chest, kissing him again in a relieved, open-mouthed sigh.