"Fancy a walk, Jones?" the professor asked, cocking out his elbow for Ozzy to link his arm with his. "Or do you have other plans?"

Ozzy shook his head and smiled, before looping his arm through the professor's. "Nah, I ain't got nothin' better to do. You're the only person I really know here except for Drix, but he'll probably spend the break talkin' the tour guide's ear off. I could tell he was dyin' to ask him a bunch of questions the whole time."

The professor rolled his eyes. "Pfft that poor guide, he has no idea what's in store for him. I always have to leave an extra ten minutes at the end of each class for Drix's barrage of questions."

"Yeah I can imagine," Ozzy said with a laugh, leaning some of his weight onto the professor. "The trick with Drix is to change the subject, or go off on a tangent. It makes him forget what he was sayin', and then you can just continue with whatever you were sayin' before he started you with his questions."

"Heh, thanks, Jones. I'll remember that."

Ozzy smiled up at him and tightened his grip on his arm. "So where are we goin', then?"

"I dunno. Just for a stroll, I guess. We could check out the optic chiasm, if you fancy it. It's not far."

"What's that?"

"It's where the left and right optic nerves meet, so we can see the visuals from both of Frank's eyes at the same time. It'll be like when we were on the bus, but trippier."

"Oooh. Sounds good, Daddy-O, but aren't you worried that people might see us together? A teacher normally doesn't walk arm in arm with his student, y'know."

"Yeah, but if anyone asks, I'll just tell them you're mentally challenged and that I'm your carer, or something."

"You're such a fuckin' cock," Ozzy hissed, nudging him with his elbow. "So does that door there take us to the optic chasm… or however you say it?"

"The optic chiasm," Professor Roja corrected, nudging him back. "And no, we have to go through the suprachiasmatic nucleus first."

"Super charismatic… what? What the hell is that?!"

The professor smirked. "You'll see."

They pushed the door open and Ozzy stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. "What the actual fuck is this?"

"This," the professor replied, gesturing around the room, "is the suprachiasmatic nucleus. Pretty freaky, right?"

"You can say that again," Ozzy said quietly, his eyes darting from left to right as he looked at all the hundreds of thousands of clocks on the walls, in the ceiling, and under the floor beneath their feet. They all showed exactly the same time, and made a heavy thunk sound with every second that passed.

The professor tugged on Ozzy's arm to get him to keep walking, and Ozzy tightened his grip on his sleeve.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Nothing's gonna happen to ya."

"But what the fuck is with all these clocks?"

"Well, the suprachiasmatic nucleus is kind of like the body's internal clock. It's responsible for loads of shit, like regulating Frank's circadian rhythm and such."

"I don't like it," Ozzy muttered under his breath. "It's creepy, I feel like all the clocks are lookin' at me."

"It's only small, it won't take long to walk through. Look, there's the exit over there. That door will take us straight to the optic chiasm."

He smiled to himself then as he felt Ozzy speed up his steps, practically dragging him over to the door. They pushed it open and Ozzy breathed a sigh of relief, loosening his grip on the professor's sleeve. "Thank fuck for that. That's the creepiest thing I've ever seen. I felt like I was in a horror film, or something."

The professor laughed. "God, if you think that's bad, I'd advise you to never go anywhere near the subconscious. That's genuinely traumatising."

Ozzy shuddered. "Uff, tell me about it. I watched some of Frank's nightmares at the cinema when I was a kid. Drips almost shat himself when we went to see that one where Frank gets chased by his old history teacher."

"Oh shit, I think I saw that one last month! Is that the one where he's wearing nothing but his underwear and the teacher has a bloody axe with a load of detention slips stuck to it?"

"Yeah, yeah! And then the teacher catches him and drags him to that abandoned school, and all his old teachers are there, and they all point at him and laugh about how shit his life has been since he left school."

"Yeah, that's the one! Ugh, I must admit, that one was a bit much, even for me. Frank truly is fucked up in the head."

"Hey!" Ozzy said, shoving against him with his shoulder. "That's my city you're dissin' there! Insultin' Frank is like insultin' me!"

"Okay, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it," the professor uttered as he ruffled Ozzy's hair. "You're way too good for this place anyway. You're by far the most interesting person I've ever met here, so if you ever hear me insult this body, just know that I'm not referring to you."

They both smiled at each other for a second, until something caught Ozzy's attention out of the corner of his eye. He tugged on the professor's arm and pointed, shouting, "look! There's an ice cream truck over there! Come on! I'll buy you one!"

He dragged a reluctant Professor Roja over to the truck and fumbled around in his pocket for his wallet. "Two triple chocolate fudge cookie ice creams, please," he said happily, slamming some money down on the counter.

The professor frowned. "Ozzy, I really don't want you to-"

"Shush, shut up and let me get this for you," Ozzy interrupted, prodding him in the arm.

The professor scrunched up his face as he watched the vendor drizzle yet more chocolate sauce over the already chocolate coated ice cream, wincing at the way the fudge oozed over the cone and dripped onto her hand. "It's very generous of you, Jones, but you really don't have to buy me… that. I keep telling you, you don't have to pay me back for this trip. We're even."

"I know. It's not about that," Ozzy replied, grabbing the first ice cream and handing it to the professor. "I just want you to try this, you're gonna love it." He took the second ice cream in his hands and smiled expectantly. "Go on!"

The professor was about to protest further, but stopped himself as soon as he saw the look on Ozzy's face, and he cautiously brought it up to his mouth. This is absolutely ridiculous. I never do what other people tell me, yet this kid can get me to do whatever the fuck he wants with just one look.

He opened his mouth and bit down, his face immediately turning into a grimace. "Fuck, argh, that's cold!"

Ozzy laughed and rolled his eyes. "Well of course it's cold, it's an ice cream! And you're not meant to bite it! You gotta lick it. You have had ice cream before, right?"

The professor furrowed his brow, before shaking his head quickly, and Ozzy's face fell. "Oh, right, well no matter! It's easy! Look, watch me."

He stuck out his tongue and pressed it to the base of the ice cream, running it up to the top in one smooth, slow stroke.

Professor Roja took a sharp breath and stiffened, feeling as the heat rose to his face. Fuck fuck fuck. Here we go again. Come on, Thrax, be good. Control yourself. You're on a trip with your fucking student, for Frank's sake.

He forced a smile and swallowed, watching as Ozzy went in for a second lick. Is it just me, or is he somehow moving in slow motion? God, he has absolutely NO idea how good he looks right now. Or maybe he does, and he's doing this on purpose to mess with me.

Or maybe it's just God punishing me for everything bad I've done in my life, teasing me with this ridiculously hot cell that I can't have. Forcing me to watch as he licks an ice cream and stares directly into my… wait, did he just moan?! Or was that my imagination?

The professor leaned against the ice cream truck with his shoulder and moved his satchel around to the front. How the hell am I gonna make it through this trip? I feel like I won't even make it through the next few seconds. Fuck, and I invited him to have dinner with me tonight! All alone! What a stupid fucking idea. How am I gonna be able to…? Fuck. I'm so utterly fucking fucked-

"There, that's how you do it! Easy peasy lemon squeezy!" Ozzy said, his face covered in chocolate. He smiled and grabbed onto the professor's wrist. "Come on, let's go sit down on that bench there so you can eat your ice cream easier."

The professor allowed himself to be dragged over to the bench, and sat down next to Ozzy, crossing one leg over the other. Okay, phew. Well done, Thrax. You didn't pass out. Just act natural. Talk about something interesting to take your mind off it. "Look, Ozzy," he said, pointing up at the ceiling. "That's the optic chiasm. What d'ya think?"

Ozzy's eyes widened when he looked up, and he placed a hand on the professor's thigh. "Woah! That really is trippy! It's like watching the same film from two angles and at different speeds!"

"It's pretty cool, right?" The professor uttered, watching the way Ozzy's eyes were darting from side to side. "It takes a bit of getting used to, having both visuals at the same time, but it's neat."

"Yeah, it's freaky as fuck, but in a good way! Not like that clock room, that was just gross, but this is amazing" he said, licking his ice cream.

They both sat in silence for a moment, until Ozzy turned his torso to face the professor, bringing his feet up to sit cross-legged on the bench. "Mhm, so anyway, what time should I be at yours later? Bearin' in mind that I usually get hungry around 8pm."

"Hah, okay, 8pm it is, then. The hypothalamus tour ends around 4pm, so that gives me enough time to shower and get ready."

Ozzy frowned. "It takes you four hours to get ready? What the fuck do you even do in that time?"

"Hey, looking this good takes time, I'll have you know."

"Ah, right right," Ozzy said, rolling his eyes.

They both looked straight ahead for a moment and continued eating their ice creams, Ozzy happily humming away, until the professor turned to face him again. "So what would you like me to order tonight? I could call and order it beforehand so it's ready by the time you get there."

"Hmm…" Ozzy said, licking his ice cream a few more times as he thought about it. "How about sushi? Everybody likes sushi! You could order one of those big boats with a lil bit of everything on it, as long as it's not too expensive."

"Good idea. Sushi's one of the only things I can stand to order in this body. I tried a pizza from here once and couldn't get off the toilet for days. I think it was the cheese."

"Sir!" Ozzy said, scrunching up his face. "That's disgusting!"

"What? It's not my fault Frank eats like a pig. I've never been in a body with such terrible quality food."

"Hah, speaking of, how's the ice cream?"

"It's not bad actually. It looks disgusting, but the mix of chocolate, cookies and fudge works quite well."

"See! You should never judge a book by its cover," Ozzy said, bumping the professor's shoulder with his own. "I've learned that lesson this year, too. I saw your spiky face and your claws and thought that you'd be a right dickhead, but you're okay deep down."

"Just 'okay'?" the professor said with a laugh.

"Yeah. I might even go as far as to say that I like ya."

"Awh, Jonesy," he cooed, pinching Ozzy's cheek. "I like you too. You're alright for an immunity cell."

"And you're alright for a virus."

They smiled at each other for a moment, until the professor reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Oh, before I forget, here, take this. It's got my room number on it: third floor, room 387."

"Oh, right," Ozzy said quietly, taking the paper from him and staring down at it. Wow, okay. This makes it all so much more… real. I mean, I know I'd agreed to go to his room later, but it felt more like… an idea? Something totally crazy and abstract.

But no, it's actually happening. I didn't really think it through when I agreed to spend the evening with him. I just sorta said yes, getting swept up in the excitement of it all. Am I doing the right thing here?

"Also, that there is my phone number," the professor said softly as he tapped the paper with his claw. "If you have any problems finding the room, just call me or send me a text."

Ozzy gripped harder onto the piece of paper and nodded. "Yeah, that's great. Thanks, sir."

Professor Roja smiled, before leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "Uhm, also, one more thing. Don't tell anyone about this. Y'know, the fact that you're coming to my room later. Just keep it between us."

Ozzy nodded again, swallowing thickly. "Yeah. Don't worry. I know."

Ozzy gripped tightly onto the straps of his rucksack as he waited outside the hypothalamus chamber with Drix and the rest of the students. They'd been out here for over twenty minutes now while their IDs and key cards were all checked, and Ozzy sighed, bumping against Drix with his shoulder.

"This is all so dramatic. Can't they just let us in already?"

Drix leant down and shushed him, before whispering, "be patient, Ozzy. These are simply the standard checks we have to go through. The hypothalamus is very important for the body and they're just trying to keep it safe. Didn't you listen to the tour guide before?"

"Yeah yeah, I did," Ozzy mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I just find it ridiculous. It's like they think we're criminals, or something."

Drix sighed. "Well, spare a thought for poor Professor Roja. He had to get here a whole thirty minutes early and go through thrice the checks we did."

Ozzy looked down at his feet and frowned. "Yeah, I know."

A few moments later, the doors were opened, and everyone started filing into the hall. Ozzy followed behind Drix as he walked up to the seats at the front, swivelling his head around to get a good look at the place. It was a strange room, round and simple, with almost completely bare walls, except for a few screens showing the body's current temperature.

They sat down on the first row, just in front of the podium where Professor Roja was looking through his notes. Ozzy left his rucksack on the floor by his feet and gazed up at the professor for a second, before panning his vision to the tall glass column in the centre of the room. He cocked his head and frowned, watching the slow rotation of the DNA-looking structure inside.

The professor looked up from his notes to see Ozzy sitting just in front of him, and he smiled to himself when he noticed the puzzled expression written across his face. He waved his claws at him to get his attention, before pointing at the glass column with his thumb and mouthing, "that's the hypothalamus."

Ozzy smiled back and nodded, before swivelling his head around to get a look at the rest of the room. There were some control panels surrounding the tour group, and a few scientists mumbling to themselves as they checked all the readings and measurements.

They seemed nervous for some reason, and Ozzy couldn't help but notice the large police presence in the room, with a few armed guards standing by the exits, all with one hand on their weapons. Ozzy frowned and turned back around to sit down in his chair. That's weird. I've never seen so many guards in one place. What are they so worried about? I guess the hypothalamus must just really be that important, like Drix said.

"Ahem, if all of y'all could take a seat, then I can begin," Professor Roja said, raising an eyebrow as one of the other teachers hurried to find a seat at the back. "Tsk, come on, we ain't got all day."

He flicked his eyes over at Ozzy for a second and smiled, before panning his vision across the rest of the crowd with a scowl. "Right, if any of y'all have any questions, make sure to write them down to ask me at the end."

He rolled his gaze back round to the front, landing on Drix, and he slowly leaned over the podium. "That means no questions during my speech. Do I make myself clear?"

Drix gulped and nodded, and Ozzy looked down at his lap to hide his smile.

"Good."

The professor stepped away from the podium and approached the hypothalamus, and Ozzy noticed that some of the guards had tightened their grips around the handle of their guns.

The professor seemed to have noticed too, as he tutted and shook his head, before gently placing a hand on the side of the glass column. "First things first, this is the hypothalamus. It's surrounded by this hard casing, which protects it from any interference." He banged his fist against it and flicked his eyes over to one of the guards. "See, I can't break it open, even if I wanted to."

Ozzy tilted his head to the side and sighed. God, I'd let you break me open any day. I'd let you throw me down on your bed, grab my ankles and force them up by the sides of my head while you… wait, no! Stop it, Oz! Shut up and listen to what he's saying.

"And can y'all see the way the DNA sorta wraps around itself, like a spiral? Well, that's because…"

Ough, I wanna wrap myself around you so bad. I wanna climb you like a fucking tree. I wanna have you hold onto me and force me against the wall and kiss me until my lips are all bruised and swollen, not breaking away even to breathe. We'd just be panting into each other's mouths while you fucked the shit outta me and I scratched all down your back… aw c'mon, Oz!

He frowned and pinched himself on the arm. Focus! Listen to him talk! It's the least you can do after he paid for you to be here, you fucking cretin.

"And then you have these streams running up and down the inside of the casing. This is the magnetic field which helps stop the DNA from getting all tangled up…"

Oh, how I wish I could be all tangled up with you, our clothes scattered around the room, the sheets crumpled beneath us and our breathing ragged while I rode you real fucking slow, licking the sweat from your skin and moaning into your… shit, what the fuck is wrong with me?!

Ozzy picked up his rucksack from the floor and placed it on his lap, trying to hide the bulge that was now pressing against the seam of his trousers. Oh, that's just great. Well done, Oz. You've managed to get a massive boner in front of the whole class, you perverted piece of shit.

He slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. Fuck, I'm so uncomfortable right now. Maybe if I cross my legs that would help… no! No, definitely don't do that.

Jeez. I don't think I've gotten this turned on in public since I was in the 10th grade and that super hot senior bent over in front of me in a mini skirt.

He sighed and narrowed his eyes, letting himself get lost in his thoughts to see if that would help take his mind off Professor Roja. I wonder what she's doing now. I had such a crush on her for the whole of 9th and 10th grade, but I haven't even thought about her since she graduated.

I never really even spoke to her, I just sorta ogled her from afar. She must've thought I was such a weirdo.

What was her name again? Was it Brandy? No, it wasn't… oh, Leah! It was Leah! God, she really was gorgeous, such pretty eyes, and her chest looked so fucking good in those tight sweaters-

The sound of the professor clearing his throat brought Ozzy back to reality, and their gaze got stuck on each other for the moment, before he turned his head and continued his speech.

Ozzy's face fell, and he started fiddling with the straps on his rucksack. Fuck, do you think he saw me daydreaming? He probably thinks he's boring me, when it's actually the complete opposite problem!

He sat up in his chair and pulled his notepad out of his rucksack to start taking notes, trying his best to ignore the discomfort between his legs. Right, no more messing about. Time to focus and actually learn something. He's paid a helluva lot of money for me to come on this trip, and I'm not gonna let him down.

He caught the professor's eye then, and flashed him a pearly white smile, tapping his notepad with his pen. I'm gonna do you proud, sir, and prove to everyone that I do belong here, whether they like it or not.

Fuck, Ozzy thought as he stared at door number 387, scratching his arm. Am I really gonna go through with this?

He didn't know how long he'd been standing outside in the hallway, but judging by the fact that he had managed to memorise every single pattern in the wood of the door, coupled with the two dents in the carpet beneath his feet, he figured it had been a while.

He was nervous. Really nervous. Of course, he'd been in similar situations before: standing outside the professor's office, waiting anxiously for him to call him in, unsure about what was going to happen or if he'd even make it out alive.

This time was different, though. This wasn't his office; this was his room. His bed room. Once through that door, they would no longer be simply teacher and student. The barrier between them would blur, more than ever before, and Ozzy wasn't sure whether he was willing to take that step just yet.

He breathed in sharply and tilted his head back, following the patterns in the ceiling with his eyes. What the actual hell am I doing? This is insane. Roja's my teacher, he's twice my age, and he's also a fucking virus, and I'm here standing outside his hotel room.

All my senses are screaming at me to turn around and walk away, and I know I should probably listen to them. Willingly entering a small, enclosed space with a virus goes against every biological instinct I have, and everyone would think I was an absolute idiot for even considering it.

They don't understand, though. None of them do. They don't see how we are with each other, how much we get each other, how much we care for one another. We're more than just our biology, more than just teacher and student. We can be our real, vulnerable, naked selves when we're together.

Ozzy lowered his head to look at the door number again and sighed. I really don't know why I'm suddenly so nervous. This is the professor we're talking about. Lovely, gorgeous, kind Professor Roja. He's not gonna try anything weird or force me to do something I don't feel comfortable with, I know that. If anything, it'll be up to me to initiate things.

It still feels weird, though. There's so much riding on tonight, like everything between us has been leading up to this moment. It's almost like if I don't make a move tonight, I'll have missed my chance. But then again, if I do make a move, what will happen?

It's possible that I've been reading the signals all wrong, and that he doesn't like me at all. He might reject me and break my heart, or kick me off the course and ruin my future, or worse…

Ozzy frowned and shook his head, before cricking his neck from side to side to try and force himself to relax. Stop doubting yourself, Oz, and stop doubting him. He's been nothing but lovely to you this whole trip, and you're not gonna let him down by backing out now.

Nothing has to happen tonight, remember that. Just go with the flow and follow his lead. You'll be fine. Everything'll be fine.

Ozzy took in a deep breath and counted down from three, before bringing his fist up to the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

He smiled to himself and breathed out a sigh of relief, but his face fell as soon as he heard the professor bark at him from the other side of the door.

"I'll be there in a minute!"

Ozzy furrowed his brow and shifted in place, subconsciously picking at the skin around his thumb. Shit. Why's he sound so angry? I hope he's not gotten into another one of his weird moods.

After a few moments, the door swung open, and Ozzy smiled up at the professor. "Hey, sir! I brought you some whi-" he started to say, falling silent as soon as he saw what he looked like: hair sticking up in all directions, his cheeks flushed, and his shirt completely undone, exposing his entire chest and stomach.

Ozzy felt his gaze get stuck there for a second, but he managed to force it back up to the professor's face, smiling nervously. "Uhm, sir, you-"

"Ozzy! Hi! Hello! How are you?" Professor Roja blurted out, a big smile spreading over his face. "Uh… s-sorry if I sounded a bit angry just now. I was busy doing something, and I thought you were the takeout delivery guy, so I got a bit… y'know. I wouldn't have raised my voice like that if I knew it was you."

"It's okay. I didn't think anything of it, really," Ozzy said quietly, forcing a small laugh. "But, uh, do you know that your shirt's not… I mean, your buttons aren't…" he mumbled, making sure to keep his eyes locked on the professor's face. Jesus Christ, as if he could get any hotter. How do you even get a body like that?!

The professor furrowed his brow and looked down at himself, his eyes widening when he saw that his entire chest and stomach were exposed. "Oh, fuck!" He turned to the side and started trying to do his shirt up, his hands shaking. "Shit shit shit, I'm sorry… I-I was getting changed just now, and I didn't expect… I didn't know it was you at the door, and I kinda just opened it without thinking, and, fuck, why can't I… my claws won't… they keep catching on the…"

He felt Ozzy's hand on his arm then, and turned his head to face him, only to be met with the warmest, most genuine smile he had ever seen in his life. He frowned and looked away again, holding both sides of his shirt together.

Fuck. He's so ridiculously gorgeous and kind and lovely, and here I am with my hair all over the place and my hands shaking and my fat disgusting stomach on show. He must think I'm such an idiot. A fucking loser. He couldn't possibly want to spend the evening with me.

"D'ya wanna go inside? I'll help you with your shirt, if you like," Ozzy said, squeezing his arm.

The professor's expression softened, and he turned his head to look at Ozzy again. Oh.

He smiled weakly and nodded, still holding the two sides of his shirt together with one hand. "Yeah, okay. Come in."

He shut the door as soon as Ozzy had stepped inside and watched as he left a bottle of whiskey on the table. "Oh, you brought me… you really didn't have to."

Ozzy frowned and drew closer, grabbing onto the bottom of the professor's shirt. "Of course I did. You won the bet."

"Yeah, but that stuff's really expensive."

Ozzy shrugged and pushed the first button through the hole. "Could you let go of your shirt, sir? It's kinda hard to do the buttons up when you're grippin' onto it like that."

The professor hesitated for a second, before sighing and letting go, and Ozzy smiled and thanked him.

A comfortable silence fell between them, save for Ozzy's soft humming as he did up a couple more buttons. "It can't be easy puttin' clothes on with these claws. How do you do it?"

The professor laughed quietly. "Yeah, I can't tell you how many times I've put a hole in something. It's not normally too difficult, unless I get a bit… I dunno… anxious, and my hands shake. That makes everything harder."

Ozzy furrowed his brow and looked up at him. "What's making you anxious now?"

"Uhm, I guess you are."

"Oh, sorry," Ozzy said quietly, looking back down at his shirt and doing up another button.

"No, don't say sorry! I just didn't expect to see you standing there when I opened the door."

Ozzy looked back up at him and cocked his head. "But… we agreed on 8pm, right?"

"Right, and it's 7:38pm right now."

"Oh," Ozzy said with a laugh. "My bad. I've never been very good at time keepin', and I guess I was a bit anxious myself about comin' here and I must've just… lost track of time. Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm glad you're here."

Ozzy smiled. "So, shall I leave the top two buttons undone, then? That's how you usually wear it, right?"

"Please."

Ozzy nodded and finished doing up the last button, smoothing the shirt over the professor's chest with his hands. "Green suits you. It looks nice against your skin."

"Hah, thank you. And speaking of my skin, sorry about before. I promise I didn't invite you up here with the intention of flashing you."

Ozzy looked up at him and shot him a big smile. "I wouldn't have minded if you did. It ain't every day you see a body like that."

"What, overweight, you mean?"

Ozzy laughed, but his face fell when he saw that the professor was being deadly serious. "What d'ya mean? You're in perfect shape."

"Hah, hardly. I've put on loads of weight these last few months. I'm all soft and flabby here," he mumbled, bringing a hand up to cover his stomach. "This semester has been pretty stressful, and I've been…uhm, snacking a lot."

Ozzy blinked up at him for a second, before taking a step back to look him over. "Oh… well, I'm sure nobody can tell. I sure can't."

"I can, though. You shoulda seen me when I first came into this body."

Ozzy looked back up at him and cocked his head. "What did you look like back then? Have you got any photos?"

"Naw, I've never really been one to take photos, but I guess I used to be much leaner and more… toned. I ran around a lot more, used my body for everything, and never stayed in one place for more than three weeks, whereas now I just spend most of my time sitting down." He laughed quietly and patted his hips. "I even had to throw away a pair of jeans the other day because I couldn't get them over my thighs."

"Oh," Ozzy said, flicking his eyes down to the professor's thighs. He pushed his lips out into a pout and cocked his head, rolling his gaze up and down his legs. Admittedly, he had put on a bit of weight, at least since the beginning of term. His jeans appeared to be much tighter on him than they used to be, but everything was still taut and firm, not at all soft or flabby like he claimed.

Ozzy's gaze got stuck there for a moment, before drifting back up the line of his body and falling on his stomach. He noticed that the professor shifted slightly then, indicating that he was feeling a little self-conscious, so Ozzy quickly looked back up into his eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I got a bit distracted. But I promise you look great, sir. I mean, I've always liked the way you look."

There was a moment of silence between them then, before the professor cleared his throat and stepped backwards. "Uhm, make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to drink in a mo, I'm just gonna go put on the tie you bought me and fix my hair."

"Okeedokee," Ozzy said cheerfully, looking around the room while the professor headed over to the wardrobe.

"Jeez, you weren't kiddin' about this being the extra large suite. I've never seen a bed this big before. I think you'd need a map to find your way around it."

The professor smirked and picked up a bobble from the dresser, pulling his hair into a messy bun. "Yeah, I always ask for this room when I come up here. It's the only one with a bed big enough for me."

"Okay okay, we get it, you're tall. Ya don't gotta rub it in," Ozzy said jokily, shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering over to the professor. "It's so unfair that you get to sleep in a bed that's bigger than my entire dorm back at Cornea, while I got lumbered with a shitty little camp bed in the corner of Drix and Sam's room."

Professor Roja draped his new tie over his shoulders and frowned. "Wait, really? I paid full price for a shitty little camp bed?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't really matter. A bed's a bed in my book. Anyway, you wanna try that whiskey I bought ya? The guy in the store said it was one of the best in the whole of Frank. And it better be, considering how much it fuckin' set me back."

The professor tightened the knot on his tie and headed over to the table where Ozzy had left the whiskey. "Yeah, I'll go open it now in the kitchen."

Ozzy frowned. "Wait, you seriously have a kitchen? I thought you were just jokin' earlier!"

"No, it's through that door there. Go 'n' have a look if ya like."

Ozzy smiled and ran past him towards the door, pushing it open and skidding to a halt in the middle of the kitchen. "Oh my God, this is insane!" He spun around and smiled at the professor as he followed him through the door. "And you said that this was small. How rich are you?"

The professor tutted and walked over to the counter, taking two glasses out of one of the cabinets. "So, what d'ya wanna drink? I've got Kool Aid and some Coca-Cola in the fridge… you kids drink that, right?"

Ozzy scrunched up his face. "Kool Aid? What do you think I am, seven years old?! Nah nah, I want a proper drink. Pour me a glass of whiskey, my good man," he said, slapping the top of the counter.

The professor raised an eyebrow. "Whiskey? You sure? Have you ever tried it before?"

"No, but how bad can it be? I can handle anything. Hit me."

"Okay, if you say so," the professor said, picking up the whiskey. He cut the wax seal around the top of the bottle with his claw, before peeling it off and pulling the cork out. "Okay, I'll only give you a little bit to try at first. I'll mix some of the Coke in there with it too, so it ain't as strong."

Ozzy turned to lean his back against the counter, momentarily mesmerised by the deep amber colour of the whiskey as it was poured into the two glasses. "Sooo… what does a Friday night usually look like for Professor Roja? What do you get up to?"

The professor opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle of Coke, before topping up Ozzy's glass. "Mhm… well, let's see… my classes go on until 3pm on Fridays, and then I usually spend a few hours grading homework in my office."

Ozzy scrunched up his face. "What? On a Friday?!"

"Yep," the professor replied, handing Ozzy his glass and picking up his own. "And then I might go shopping, or head to a bar, but nothing super exciting, really."

"Why not? You should be doing fun things! You're still young…ish."

"Hah, thanks." He took a sip of his drink and left his glass on the counter. "It's not exactly by choice. It ain't easy to have a social life when you gotta be home by 10pm, y'know."

"What, really? That stupid law applies on Fridays too?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it? I'm still a virus on Fridays." He gestured with his head for Ozzy to try his drink, smirking as he watched him bring it up to his lips and take a big swig.

"Ack! Fuck, that's… agh… that's vile!" Ozzy spluttered, coughing as the whiskey hit the back of his throat. "How do you even drink this shit?"

"It does take some getting used to," the professor uttered, finishing his glass and pouring himself some more. "Do you want me to put some more Coke in?"

Ozzy nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while he held out his glass, and the professor topped it up.

"So, now you know about my exciting nightlife, what do you like to do on Fridays?" the professor asked, leaving the bottle of Coke on the counter.

"Uhm, well, I usually go out with friends, like to a club, or something," Ozzy mumbled, looking down at the drink in his hands. "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It's not your fault that I can't go out."

"Yeah, but it's not fair."

"No, it ain't, but that's the way it is."

Ozzy looked back up at him and smiled, taking a step forward. "You'll change that, though. You and NAV."

The professor tutted. "Nah, I doubt it. It's all a bit stuck at the moment. We've been tryna get this bill approved for months now, but the politicians ain't making it easy for us."

"What do they do, exactly?"

"Pfft, just small things. Postponing talks with us, cancelling our rallies, sending the FPD round to our meetings and homes unannounced. All small things that add up to us not being able to get anything done." He brought the glass up to his lips and took a big swig. "Oh, and to top it all off, one of our members was arrested last week."

Ozzy's eyes widened. "What? Who? Why?!"

The professor sighed and leaned more of his weight against the counter. "Her name was Runa. She was a measles virus that had been dormant since Frank caught it as a kid. It came out that she was dating a white blood cell, one of the higher-ups in the immunity force. Someone must've ratted her out to the FPD, or maybe they were caught together, who knows."

"Shit," Ozzy whispered, gripping onto the counter. "What's happened to them both?"

"The cop got fired and has been sent to a 'correctional facility', which is just a fancy word for prison. They'll probably be doing loads of tests on him to make sure Runa didn't infect him or alter his genetic structure in any way. As for her, we don't know anything. She just disappeared. She's probably been flushed out by now, or thrown into the stomach acid or something."

He chugged the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the counter, and Ozzy drew closer, placing his hand on the professor's arm. "Things will change soon. I'm sure of it."

The professor sucked some air in through his teeth and filled up his glass again. "I've been fighting for two years now and I ain't got nowhere with it. The system's fucked."

"It'll get better someday, I promise. You'll get everything you've worked so hard for, and be able to live a normal life," Ozzy said softly, stroking the professor's wrist with his thumb.

Professor Roja smiled sadly, before taking another swig of his drink and leaving his glass on the counter. "Sorry, Ozzy. Let's talk about something else, shall we? I don't mean to bore you with all of this political bullshit."

Ozzy stared up at him and frowned. "It's not boring."

"Oh, unlike my speech today, right?" the professor said with a smirk, and Ozzy looked down at his feet, feeling a little ashamed.

"I wasn't bored. You're a really good speaker, a-and I'm sure everything you said was very interesting, and all. I just kept gettin' distracted, like always. I dunno what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Ozzy. I was kidding." He topped up his drink again and grinned. "Besides, it was actually kinda cute watching the way your eyes kept getting all lost."

Ozzy smiled and pushed on the professor's side with one hand. "Shut up. You're literally so annoying."

The professor laughed and ruffled his hair, taking another sip of his drink. "So, what were you thinking about during my speech that had you so captivated, anyway? Anything you'd like to share with the class?"

Ozzy shook his head and quickly looked down again to hide the blush spreading across his face, and the professor grinned. "Oh c'mon, Jones, just tell me."

He heard Ozzy laugh nervously, shaking his head again, and the professor came round to his front to place both hands on the counter by Ozzy's sides. "Oh, so it's a big secret, huh? Well, now I'm really intrigued. I won't tell anyone, I prom-"

They both flinched then as the doorbell rang, and the professor sighed, drawing himself back up to his full height. "That'll be the takeout. I'll go pay, you stay here in the kitchen and pour yourself another drink. I won't be long."

"Can't I come with you?" Ozzy asked, trailing behind him, and the professor spun back around and placed his hands on Ozzy's shoulders.

"No, Ozzy. I'm sorry, but I think it's best if you stay here. If they find us together, in this hotel room, you don't know what they'll…" He sighed and shut his eyes, tightening his grip on his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinkin','' Ozzy said quietly, forcing a smile. "Don't worry. You go get the door. I'll stay here."

"Thanks," the professor uttered, moving his hands up to cup Ozzy's cheeks. He hesitated for a moment to look his eyes, before letting go and traipsing over to the door.

I really wish I didn't have to hide you.

He pushed on the door and walked out into the bedroom, sighing heavily. I wish I could take you out on a date, a proper date, like other people can. I'd show you around the city, take you to places you'd never been, buy you the most incredible food and give you the best night of your life.

He opened the front door and paid the delivery man, before taking the food and shutting the door again.

I wish it was easier.

He dragged the dining table out into the middle of the room and started carefully laying out all the food. If we were together, I'd never, EVER hurt you. I'd make you happy in ways you can't even imagine. I'd do anything for you, all you'd have to do is ask.

Once everything was laid out, he went over to the wardrobe and grabbed two candles that he'd bought before Ozzy arrived, placing them on the table and lighting them with his claw. I'd love you so fucking much, but unfortunately, they wouldn't see it that way. They'd just see us as a crime, as something perverted and dangerous and wrong.

He inhaled, before stepping back and walking over to the light switch by the door. But, I have you now, that's all that matters, and I'm gonna make sure you have the best time possible with me tonight. If I can't take you to a fancy restaurant, then I'll just have to bring a fancy restaurant up here to you.

He dimmed the lights, before switching on two small lamps in opposite corners of the room, illuminating everything in a soft orange glow. He looked around the room and smiled to himself.

I hope you don't think I'm being too forward here. I honestly don't expect anything to happen between us tonight, and I didn't invite you up here to try and force it, either.

In the same breath, I won't be offended if this thing between us ends up as something purely physical, or short lived. I'm so much older than you, and I'm your professor, with more emotional baggage than any partner should have to deal with, so it would be completely normal and understandable if you didn't want an actual relationship with me.

But if I can just have this one date, this one evening with you, you'd make me happier than you could possibly imagine.

"Uhm, sir," Ozzy said from the other side of the door, breaking the professor out of his train of thought. "Can I come out now?"

The professor smiled to himself and walked over to the door, pushing it open and quickly shutting it behind him before Ozzy could see the bedroom. He took Ozzy's hands in his own and pulled him closer, taking in a deep breath. "Yeah. He's gone. Sorry if I kept you waiting, I was just laying everything out."

He noticed Ozzy's expression, and leaned down so that his face was just in front of his. "I know this is shit, having to hide all the time, but I'm gonna fix it. Like you said, it's all gonna change for the better."

Ozzy squeezed his hands and nodded, and the professor smiled, drawing himself up to his full height. "Right, everything's all set up in there. After you, baby."

Ozzy's eyes lit up at that, and he pulled on the professor's hands to drag him out into the bedroom, stopping in his tracks as soon as he walked through the door. "Sir," he said weakly, parting his lips to take in a breath. "You did all this?"

The professor hummed and squeezed his hand, and Ozzy turned his head to look up at him with wide eyes. "But… why?"

"Well, this is the first time I've spent an evening with someone in over four years, so I thought it'd be nice to push the boat out a lil, pardon the pun," he uttered, gesturing at the sushi boat in the middle of the table.

Ozzy stared at him for a second, and his mouth started quickly opening and closing as he tried to find the words. "I-I… no one's ever done anything like this for me before… I don't know how to thank you."

"There's no need," the professor said, smiling down at him. He let go of Ozzy's hand and walked over to pull one of the chairs out from under the table. "Now, sit down while I go and get our drinks."

Ozzy nodded and slid onto the chair, a big grin spreading over his face as he looked at all the food laid out before him; maki, nigiri, gyozas, tempura, and just about every type of Japanese food you could possibly imagine. Shit, I hope he didn't spend too much money. I'd have been happy with a bowl of ramen and some rice...

He looked up from the table as the professor came back into the bedroom with the whiskey and the two glasses, and Ozzy pulled the other chair closer to his, patting the cushion with his hand. "C'mere. I want you next to me, sir."

The professor smiled and placed the glasses down on the table. "Fancy some more whiskey, Oz?"

Ozzy blinked up at him for a second and cocked his head. "Did you just call me 'Oz'?"

"Yeah. Sorry, don't you like that name?"

"No, I do. It's just… no one's ever called me that before. It's kinda what I say when I'm talkin' to myself in my head, so it was a bit strange to hear it out loud, is all."

The professor's smile broadened, and he sat down in the chair, pouring the whiskey into the glasses. "But you don't mind?"

"No, I liked it," Ozzy said quietly, picking up his glass and taking a few sips. There was another moment of silence, before he swallowed and said, "thanks for the food, by the way. I've never seen so much sushi in my life! I think you've managed to order just about everything on the menu."

"Well, yeah, I kinda did. I didn't really know what you liked, so I just got a bit of everything," the professor replied, taking a swig of his drink. "Come on, dig in."

Ozzy grinned and reached over the table to grab a pair of chopsticks. "I think I'll try one of these first." He picked up a piece of sushi and dropped it into his mouth, rolling his eyes shut and moaning softly. "Mmm! Fuck me, that's good."

He'd barely finished chewing before he reached out for another one. "I could get used to this, havin' someone pay for all my stuff. Mmmph, sir, you gotta try these."

The professor laughed. "Is that the only reason you came here tonight, for the free food?"

"Yeah, of course," Ozzy said, grabbing yet another piece of sushi with his chopsticks. "I only spend time with you to see what I can get you to buy for me."

The professor frowned, and Ozzy laughed, moving his chair even closer to him. "I'm kiddin'. I'm here because I wanna spend time with you."

"Oh," Professor Roja said quietly, resting his chin on one hand. "And why's that?"

Ozzy swallowed the sushi in his mouth and tilted his head to the side as he thought about his answer. "Well, you actually listen to me for starters. Most people tend to tune me out after a while," he muttered, picking up another piece of sushi and biting down. "Mmph, hurry up, sir. Try some sushi before I eat it all!"

He held out the other pair of chopsticks for the professor to take, smiling up at him. "Come on, I wanna see you try to use these."

The professor smiled nervously and shook his head. "Oh, uhm, I actually prefer to use my claws, if you don't mind."

"Oh, go on! It's more fun this way!" Ozzy said, lightly poking him on the arm.

The professor frowned, before tutting and taking the chopsticks from him. "Fine, if you insist. Okay, so… do you hold them like this?"

Ozzy shook his head. "Nah, look, you gotta put your index finger on top, and kinda use your middle finger to support the first stick." He took hold of the professor's claw and gently placed it on top of the chopstick. "Like that, kinda! Okay, try and pick up some sushi with 'em."

Professor Roja nodded and reached over to pick up a piece of sushi, the muscles in his hands straining as he attempted to hold the position Ozzy had shown him. He managed to pick one up, before the chopsticks slipped and the sushi fell into the bowl of soy sauce, splashing some over the sides and onto the table. "Ah, fuck," he hissed, and Ozzy smiled encouragingly.

"Try again! You can do it, just try and hold that position, and don't put so much pressure on it."

Ozzy watched as he attempted it again and again, giving him little instructions here and there. The professor was trying his best to maintain his smile throughout, but Ozzy could tell that he was starting to get frustrated and upset over the fact that he couldn't do it.

Shit, he thought, slumping down in his seat. I shouldn't have pushed him to do this. I completely forgot about how hard it is for him to hold things with his claws, but how do I say something without embarrassing him further?

After half a dozen more failed attempts, Ozzy reached out to put a hand on the professor's knee and cleared his throat. "Sir, I think it's your claws. They keep kinda gettin' in the-"

"It's not my claws," the professor groaned, throwing the chopsticks down on the table. "It's my fucking hand. It doesn't work right anymore."

"Don't worry, sir. Most people don't get it the first time."

"Yeah, but I'm not like most people, am I?" the professor said, turning to face Ozzy. "Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to do things that everyone else finds so easy? Ever since I came here, I've been so fucking useless at everything. Ever since they…"

He trailed off and hung his head, and Ozzy furrowed his brow. "Ever since they… what?"

The professor tutted. "Nothing."

The silence stretched between them, until Ozzy dropped his own chopsticks on the table and took a piece of sushi in his fingers, holding it out in front of the professor. "You're right, this way is far better. Come on, open up and try one of these California rolls."

The professor raised his head and looked straight at Ozzy. "Oz, you don't have to-"

"Come on! You haven't eaten anything yet. I won't take no for an answer." He waved the sushi in front of his face, and the professor rolled his eyes, but did as he was told and opened his mouth.

Ozzy smiled and fed him the sushi roll, before grabbing a different one from the other side of the plate. "You want another? This one looks like it's gonna be insane. It's got all that orange shit around the edge."

The professor laughed and parted his lips, and Ozzy placed it in his mouth, before slumping back in his seat and smiling over the small, happy noises that the professor was making as he chewed. "See, it's nice, right?"

He waited a few moments for him to swallow, before sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest. "So, who's 'they'?"

The professor frowned. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Before, with the chopsticks, you mentioned something about 'ever since they…' and then you kinda trailed off. Who were you talkin' about?"

The professor's face fell, and he turned his head to the side, waving his hand dismissively. "Oh no, that was nothing. Ignore me."

"Did it happen before you came to Frank?" Ozzy asked, grabbing another piece of sushi with his fingers and holding it in front of the professor's face.

They stared at each other for a moment, until Ozzy raised an eyebrow and pressed the sushi to the professor's lips. "Okay, sorry. You don't have to tell me anything. I'll drop it. Go on, have another one," he said softly, smiling as the professor bit into the sushi roll and took it from his fingers with his teeth.

Ozzy picked up another piece for himself and chucked it into his mouth, chewing happily. They both ate in silence for a moment, until the professor swallowed and took in a deep breath. "Okay, if you really wanna know… it all happened just before I came to Frank. I was in another body, an old woman, probably in her 70s. I'd been there for a few days and… she suddenly started getting sick."

"Oh?" Ozzy said, sitting up in his seat. "What did she have?"

"Mmm, a mystery illness. High fever, convulsions, all that shit, until she eventually collapsed and was taken to hospital. I tried to leave, but… I got caught."

"Shit! You were caught by immunity?"

The professor shook his head. "No, not quite." He exhaled heavily, before forcing a smile and picking up a piece of sushi with his claws. "Come on, it's your turn now. Open wide for me."

Ozzy grinned and parted his lips, and the professor placed the sushi into his mouth. "There's a good boy," he whispered, withdrawing his claws, but not before Ozzy bit down and grazed one of them with his teeth.

The professor cursed and quickly pulled his hand away. "Why you little…," he hissed, looking down at his claws. "You bit me."

Ozzy laughed and swallowed the sushi in his mouth, before bringing his drink up to his lips and taking a big swig. "Sorry, your fingers just looked so delicious. I couldn't help myself."

The professor rolled his eyes, and Ozzy moved his chair closer, their thighs now rubbing together. "What are your claws for anyway? Like, why do you have them?"

The professor raised an eyebrow and sat back in his chair, a small smile forming on his face. "Right, well y'know when you get that annoying itch in the middle of your shoulder blades that you just can't reach?"

"Yeah?"

"Well that's what these are for," he said, pinching Ozzy on the cheek.

"Pfft, yeah right," Ozzy scoffed, pushing his hand away from his face. "You're sayin' that millions of years of careful biological evolution has given you a back scratcher?"

The professor grinned. "Yeah, exactly!"

Ozzy laughed and bumped the professor's shoulder with his own. "Come on, be real for a second. Tell me what they're for!"

"Uy, fine. I mean, they're not really for anything anymore. They're more of a hindrance than anything else."

"Yeah, but what are they for? You must have them for a reason!"

The professor looked down at the table and sighed, reaching out to take his glass in his hand and finishing off his drink. "Okay, if you really wanna know, they're to help me infect bodies."

Ozzy's face fell, and he shifted back in his seat. "Oh… and how does that work?"

"Mmm… well, this is the important one here," he replied, pointing at the long claw on his left hand. "I can make it light up and use it to release my infection into anything I touch."

"Can I see?"

The professor hesitated for a moment, before nodding and moving back slightly. "Yeah, sure, but whatever you do, don't touch the sharp end."

"Gotcha," Ozzy said, flinching as the professor lit up his claw, a brilliant orange illuminating both of their faces. Ozzy's eyes widened, and he edged closer, cautiously moving his head around his claw to get a better look. "God, it's beautiful."

The professor smiled. "You think?"

"Yeah, the way the yellow kinda blends into the orange is so pretty… and you can sorta see the infection swirling around inside it, right?"

The professor nodded, and flicked his claw to put it out. "I shouldn't really do that anymore, I'm not allowed, so don't tell anyone that I showed it to you."

"Cool, no worries. Thanks for showing me, though," Ozzy said with a smile, picking up his glass and finishing off his drink. "So what are the other claws for, then? If that long one is for infecting, what do the others do?"

The professor filled up Ozzy's drink again and raised an eyebrow. "Um, well, I use them for killing, I guess."

"Killing…?" Ozzy whispered, and the professor's eyes widened when he realised what he'd just said, feeling the panic rising in his throat. Shit! Why did I tell him that?! I knew I shouldn't have drunk so much, I become such a blabbermouth when I drink!

He left the whiskey on the table and turned in his chair to face Ozzy, trying to make his expression as soft as possible. "I haven't used them to kill anyone in ages, I mean, I haven't killed anyone since I came here!"

Ozzy stared at him for a second, anxiously tapping his fingers on his glass. "But, you have killed before?"

The professor hesitated, before looking down and nodding. "Yeah, I have."

"What, like, you killed other viruses?"

"Mhm."

"And cells?"

The professor raised his gaze to look into Ozzy's eyes. "I didn't… I-I'm not proud of it."

Ozzy sucked some air in through his teeth and reached out to place his hand over the professor's, squeezing lightly. "It's okay. I'm not here to judge you. We're just talkin', and you don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with."

The professor smiled sadly and hiccupped, and Ozzy laughed.

"You're so nice to me. I always feel comfortable with you, Ozzy."

"Same here," Ozzy whispered, stroking the back of the professor's hand. "So… why did you feel the need to kill before you came here?"

The professor sighed and, against his better judgement, poured himself some more whiskey, before downing it all in one. "I'm a virus, Ozzy. It's what we do. Or it's what I did do, but I promise I haven't hurt a single cell in this body, and I never will."

Ozzy exhaled heavily, and the professor moved closer, his movements becoming noticeably more lethargic from the alcohol. "You wouldn't get it. When you're a virus, it's kill or be killed. You don't get to choose. Especially if you're brought up in a family like mine."

"Oh. Did they make you do it?"

"No… kinda… I guess… oh, I dunno." The professor leaned down further and lowered his voice. "They had this stupid fucking competition, like a race, to see who could be the first to get our family name out there. I was considered one of the weaker ones, but I was clever. I knew more about the human body than the others, and I got so close, Ozzy. But then my ego got in the way. I was young and cocky and I made some fucking stupid mistakes, and that's when…"

He looked down at his lap, and Ozzy brought a hand up to push a lock of hair out of his face. "Shh, it's fine, sir. You don't have to tell me any more if you don-"

"But then I stopped," the professor interrupted, raising his head to look at Ozzy again. "And I promise you, I won't do it ever again."

Ozzy hesitated for a moment, before smiling sadly and taking in a deep breath. "You can't help the way you were raised. When you're a kid, you don't understand how things work. You don't have any empathy, or comprehension of other people's feelings. If your parents tell you that you need to kill others in order to survive, then that's what you'll do."

"But… I wasn't a kid for most of it. I knew, Ozzy, I knew it was wrong, but I still kept doing it, because I wanted to win. I wanted to beat the rest of my family and show them that I wasn't just some pathetic waste of space. I cared more about some stupid record than I did about other people's lives."

"But, sir, you chose to stop. That already makes you better than the rest of your family."

"Yeah, but I dunno if I would've stopped unless…"

"But you did stop, and that's what matters," Ozzy said firmly, moving his hands to the professor's shoulders.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and the professor smiled, closing his hands around Ozzy's thighs. "Why do you trust me so much, Ozzy?"

Ozzy frowned. "What d'ya mean?"

"I'm a virus. The thing that everyone has told you to avoid all your life, yet here you are, spending the evening with me, all alone. And not only that, but you're kind to me, so fucking kind." He took in a breath and lowered his voice further, squeezing Ozzy's thighs. "I treated you horribly when we first met, but you still gave me a second chance and trusted me more than anyone probably should. I just wanna know why."

Ozzy stared at him for a moment as he tried to put his answer into words, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "Uhm, I guess… well, you kinda taught me how to trust, if I'm honest."

The professor cocked his head, his eyelids heavy. "What?"

"Well… I never used to trust anyone. All the adults in my life let me down in some way, whether it was my parents giving me up, or my uncle blatantly treating me worse than his own son, or my teachers overlooking me… but, then you came along. You, with your pretentious jackets and your weird accent and your bad jokes."

The professor laughed loudly, and Ozzy continued, softening his expression. "You showed me kindness, patience and generosity like no one ever had. You saw a kid that everyone else had given up on, and you took the time to listen to me, to get to know me, to help me, and, ultimately, you made me a better person. I'm better because of you, sir."

He moved closer and cupped the professor's cheeks with both hands, his speech slightly slurred. "You filled that deep, dark, empty hole in my life with happiness and compassion and warmth, and that's why I trust you."

The professor stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, his lips parting as he drew in a shuddering breath. "Ozzy… I can't… I don't know how to… you're…" he stammered, his speech practically incomprehensible as a hundred different emotions rushed through his body.

Ozzy laughed and squished his cheeks to push his lips out into a pout. "I think you've had too much to drink, would you like some water?"

"No… don't," the professor started saying, shaking his head to get Ozzy to let go. "I don't want you to go anywhere. You mean so much, Ozzy. You're not afraid of me, but you don't pity me either. You treat me like a person. Like we're one and the same. You make me feel so fucking good, Ozzy. Please don't leave."

Before Ozzy could reply, the professor had thrown his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He buried his face into his hair and nuzzled against the top of his head, breathing him in. "I'm so happy I met you."

Ozzy stiffened for a second, before relaxing his body and sinking his weight into him. He pressed his face to the crook of his neck and breathed in, letting himself get utterly lost in the familiar smell of the professor's cologne. "Me too," he whispered back, snaking his arms around his waist. "You've made everything so, so much better."

"You have no idea, Ozzy. No fucking idea," the professor said, pulling away slightly to look him in the eye and cupping both cheeks with his hands. "I like who I am when I'm with you. I'm funny, I'm nice, I'm good. You make me good, Ozzy." He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Ozzy's forehead, stroking along his jaw with both thumbs.

Ozzy shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, leaning into the kiss. His head was spinning from the alcohol, his heart was thumping from the adrenaline, and the butterflies in his stomach were going absolutely insane, but he felt good. Really good. Happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

He tilted his head up slightly to look into the professor's eyes, his heart fluttering as he felt his soft breath hit his face, warm and gentle and sweet-smelling from the whiskey. He nuzzled into his palms, getting lost in his eyes, and that's the moment where everything just sort of… stopped.

Despite the dizziness in his head and the fuzziness of his vision, it was as if, for the first time, everything was clear. Finally, it all made sense. All those doubts and knots and apprehensions about everything just folded themselves neatly away inside his head, and it was all just so fucking simple.

He slowly rolled his gaze over the professor's face, taking it all in: the soft furrow of his brow, the little creases around his eyes from when he'd smiled too hard, the faint freckles on his skin, and the gorgeous, piercing yellow of his eyes, so intense that it was as if they were looking directly into Ozzy's soul.

In that moment, nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, and they both felt it: that magnetic attraction drawing their faces together, inevitable, inescapable, and impossible to stop.

Ozzy's pulse faltered as he felt the professor's bottom lip brush his own, and, before either of them knew it, their mouths fell eagerly together.

An open, warm, and oh so secret kiss.