Ozzy pulled hard on the café door and slammed it shut behind him, mumbling every obscenity in the English language under his breath as he stormed over to where Professor Roja was waiting for him. He gripped tightly onto the cap of the water bottle he'd just bought and tried to twist it off, groaning loudly and holding it out for the professor to take when he realised he couldn't open it.
The professor sighed as he took the water bottle from him, and he opened it with a grunt and handed it back to him. "Relax, Ozzy. It's fine. Try not to let this ruin your day."
Ozzy shook his head and brought the bottle up to his lips, his trembling hand making him spill some water down the front of his shirt. He lowered the bottle and spat out a mouthful of water onto the floor, wiping his lips with the back of his arm as he looked back up at the professor with a frown. "It's just so shit. I hate how everyone treats you. It's so unfair."
"Hm," was all the professor could think to say, pulling on Ozzy's arm to try and get him to keep walking. "Yeah, it ain't fair, but it's the law."
Ozzy took another big sip of water and noisily gulped it down. "But what the fuck do they think's gonna happen? You were just tryna buy a coffee!"
"Yeah, I know that, and you know that, but in their eyes I'm nothing but a dirty criminal."
"Fuckers," Ozzy grumbled under his breath, handing the water bottle back to the professor. "I still think we shouldn't've bought from them. We shoulda tried somewhere else."
"Ozzy. That was the third place we tried. We woulda got the same reaction anywhere."
"I'm gonna leave 'em all so many nasty reviews when I get back home, just you wait," Ozzy spat, and the professor laughed, taking a small sip of water.
"Don't even waste your time. A review about not letting a virus into their establishment won't hurt their business in the slightest. They didn't technically do anything wrong. They're perfectly within their legal right to refuse me service if I don't have my armband on."
Ozzy's frown melted away then as a sting of guilt spiked through him, and he averted his gaze as they continued to walk down the street.
After a few moments, he nudged the professor's arm with his shoulder and took in a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. I-I wouldn't've thrown your armband on the ground if I knew how important it was. If I knew how they would… I'm sorry."
The professor smiled sadly, nudging Ozzy back. "Hush, it's fine. It ain't your fault."
Ozzy turned his head to look up at him through the blur of his lashes, his eyes big and wet. "It is my fault, though. I'm the one who ripped your armband off and kicked it away. I'm the reason you got told to leave."
"Ozzy, no, you-"
"I always do this. I act without thinkin' about the consequences, and I fuck everything up, over and over again. I ruined everything."
"Oz, please stop. That's not true at all," Professor Roja said, his voice low and soft, and Ozzy felt it wash over his frazzled nerves like warm honey.
The professor planted his hands on Ozzy's shoulders and squeezed, waiting for him to look back up at him before he continued. "You haven't ruined anything. Nothing could possibly ruin today, ya hear me? Everything is still perfect, because I'm with you."
Ozzy nodded, and the professor smiled, leaning in closer and lowering his voice to a whisper. "Besides, it was so fucking sexy the way you-"
"Hey! Get your hands off him!"
Ozzy and the professor both snapped their heads around to look at whoever had yelled at them, only to see two police officers now storming over to where they were standing, each with a hand on the weapons in their holsters.
"Shit…" the professor hissed, raising his hands by the sides of his head and stepping backwards. "It'll be fine, Oz. Just follow my lead."
The two cops stopped about a metre away from them, their weapons now drawn and pointed at the ground. "What the hell are you doing around here, virus?"
The professor forced a smile and kept his hands in the air, gesturing down at Ozzy with his head. "It's okay. I'm a teacher, and he's my student. We're on a trip here from Cornea University, and we were just about to-"
"You got any ID?" the taller cop interrupted, arching an eyebrow as soon as he noticed the way Ozzy was scowling at him.
The professor nodded and slowly reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He handed his ID card over to the cops, along with his teacher verification slip, and the taller cop scoffed.
"Cornea U, eh? My brother studied law there a few years back. Man, they've really let their standards drop."
Ozzy felt something snap inside him then, and he took a step forwards, pointing a finger in the cop's face. "Hey, watch it!"
The cop flinched, before standing up to his full height and glaring down at Ozzy. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'watch it'", he repeated through gritted teeth, fully ready to punch the cop's lights out, until he felt the professor's hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry officer, don't mind him. He-"
"Get your hands off him," the cop ordered, raising his gun slightly, and the professor did as he was told, withdrawing his hand and clenching his fists by his side.
"And you," the cop continued, lowering his attention to Ozzy. "Just because you look like a stupid kid, doesn't mean you have to act like one. Maybe your teacher here should put down the books for once and teach you a lil something about respect instead."
The professor arched an eyebrow, his jaw twitching slightly. "Yep. Will do. Okay, if it's all the same to you, we'll just get goin-"
"Hold your horses, virus. Even if you are a professor, you can't just be allowed to wander around Frank without your Reformed armband. You should get your capsid over to the Virus Protection Program and buy a new one, stat."
The professor gritted his teeth as a mix of anger and shame pushed its way out of his chest and up into his throat, but he took a deep breath and managed to force a smile. "That's precisely where I was headed. I was just gonna take this kid back to the main group and then go straight there."
He narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer, unable to hide the venom in his voice as he continued. "Can't have someone like me running around without his tag, can we?"
"Hm," the taller cop said with a nod, flicking his gaze down to glare at Ozzy for a second, before patting his partner on the shoulder and turning around to walk away.
Ozzy breathed a deep sigh of relief as he watched the cops turn the corner, and he nudged the professor's ribs with his elbow. "Fuck. That was insane. Thank Frank they're gone," he whispered, turning to look up at the professor with a smile, but his face fell as soon as he saw his expression.
He looked sad, humiliated, small, and his chest was rising and falling quicker than Ozzy had ever seen, as if he was struggling to breathe. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes wide, his claws digging into the skin of his palm like he was trying to bring himself out of some horrible nightmare.
"Uhm, sir, are you alright?"
The professor blinked quickly, Ozzy's voice cutting through the thick fog in his mind like a knife, and he forced a smile and turned to look down at Ozzy. "Yeah, fine."
"Okay…" Ozzy replied, furrowing his brow. "Uhm, so are we gonna go get you a new armband, then? At the virus thingymajiggy whatsit?"
"The Virus Protection Program."
"Yeah, that! Are we gonna go down there now? I've always secretly wondered what they're like."
The professor narrowed his eyes and took in a sharp breath. "No. I just said that to the cop to get him to piss off as quickly as possible."
"Oh…" Ozzy replied, his smile fading slightly. "Why not?"
"Because I said so," the professor snapped, gesturing with his head for Ozzy to follow him as he turned around on his heels to walk in the same direction they had just come from.
Ozzy frowned and ran over to his side. "Don't talk to me like I'm 5. I'm not your student anymore, I'm your boyfriend, so talk to me right and give me a proper answer. Why can't we go there?"
The professor stopped dead in his tracks then, and turned to look at Ozzy with wide eyes. "What did you just say?"
Ozzy crossed his arms over his chest and scowled up at him. "That you can't talk to me like I'm a stupid kid anymore."
"No… not that. The thing about me being your…"
"Boyfriend?"
"Mhm."
Ozzy softened his expression and let his arms fall to his sides. "What? We are boyfriends, aren't we?"
The professor smiled and bit his bottom lip, averting his gaze to try and fight the urge to grab Ozzy and pull him into the nearest alleyway. "Yeah," he said with a nod, his voice quiet. "Yeah, we are."
He was silent for a moment, before he gestured with his head for them to keep walking, staring down at the ground with a huge smile on his face.
Ozzy smiled too, and dipped his head down to force himself into the professor's line of sight. "So, you never answered my question. Why aren't we goin' to the Virus Protection Program?"
The professor sighed, raising his gaze and shoving his hands into his pockets. "No reason. I just don't fancy standing in those long lines."
Ozzy frowned and prodded him on the shoulder. "Hey, what did I just say about not treatin' me like a kid anymore? You're still hidin' things from me and not tellin' me whole truth. I deserve to know what's goin' on with you, dontcha think, boyfriend?"
The professor smiled again, prodding Ozzy back with his claw. "Fine, okay, sorry. We're not going there because… well… the Virus Protection Program isn't like any other place that you'll have ever seen. It's dirty and disorganised beyond belief, even by Frank's standards. And it's dangerous, especially for someone like you."
Ozzy frowned, having to jog to keep up with the professor's long strides. "Someone like me?"
"Yeah. Someone like you."
"I don't get what you… Did I do something wrong?"
The professor sighed again and slowed down his pace so Ozzy could keep up. "No, Ozzy. It's nothing you've done. I just… the VPP ain't safe."
"Why not?"
"Because it's full of other viruses, and I don't want you anywhere near another virus, ever."
Ozzy frowned again and cocked his head. "But… you're a virus."
"Yeah, but… it's not…" the professor said, his voice wavering as he tried to find the right way to phrase his answer. "Okay, I know I run the NAV campaign, so this might sound a bit… hypocritical, but not all viruses are good. Most aren't, truth be told. Many of them use organisations like the VPP to hide out in the body, feigning compliance while they try to find the best way to take it down."
He dared to turn his head and meet Ozzy's gaze, shame plastered over his face. "I don't trust them, Ozzy. I wouldn't even trust them to be around my fucking pocket watch without stealing it from me, so with you… I just can't..."
He stopped walking and placed a hand on Ozzy's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I'm scared, Ozzy. Absolutely fucking terrified of the idea of you being around another virus. They're not good people, they don't show mercy, and they don't respect anything or anyone. You going into the VPP would be like a baby deer wandering into a lion's den."
He leaned down and lowered his voice to a whisper, squeezing harder on his shoulder. "I don't want you spending any time with any other viruses, ever. Is that clear?"
Ozzy stared up at him for a moment, his eyes big and round and innocent, and he watched as the crease between the professor's eyebrows deepened further while he waited for his answer. God, he's actually serious about this. I guess I should be flattered, really. It just proves how much he cares about me, right?
He sucked some air in through his teeth as he mulled it around his mind. Shit. It's a bit weird of him to ask me to never spend any time with others viruses… like he wants to own me, almost. But, I mean, it's not like I actually spend any time with viruses anyway, so I'm not really losing anything by agreeing to this. And I mean, he's probably only saying it to keep me safe. Oh, what the hell.
He smiled up at him and nodded quickly. "Okay, sure."
The professor's frown softened slightly, and he squeezed Ozzy's shoulder again, whispering a 'thank you' as he looked down at the ground between them.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence then, until Ozzy cleared his throat and brought a hand up to place it over the professor's, lightly stroking over his skin with his fingers. "So… uh… what are we gonna do now?"
The professor withdrew his hand and kept his gaze low, clearly feeling a little awkward about the conversation they'd just had. "Let's go back to the hotel, just so I can get my spare armband. Then we can do whatever you want."
The professor opened the door to his hotel room and stepped inside, shutting it after him. He traipsed over to the bed and sank himself down, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Shit, he thought, breathing out a long, heavy sigh.
He'd told Ozzy to wait a few minutes at the front door of the hotel before following him inside, telling him it was because someone might happen to walk down the corridor and see them go in together, but really it was just because he needed a moment to himself to decompress.
He pressed his claws hard to his scalp and groaned, rocking back and forth slightly as he thought about everything that had just happened. FUCK. That was awful. The worst. I'm literally shaking right now. What a fucking baby.
He inhaled deeply, counting to five before allowing himself to breathe out.
Why in Frank did that have to happen today? And why in front of him?
That was one of the most humiliating things to ever happen to me. Being refused service in front of people? Being kicked out of three separate places? Being fucking YELLED at in the street by an overweight and underpaid cop?!
I almost lost it. I was so close to grabbing that cop and just ripping him apart right in the middle of the street. He deserved it. I've killed people for way less.
But I just stood there and took it, and even worse, I let Ozzy take it. I let that cop stand there and insult him, and I did nothing about it.
I'm such a fucking coward.
He loosened the grip on his head and tried to force his body to relax, his breathing coming down slowly. How did this even happen? I always bring a spare armband with me everywhere, why didn't I have one today? None of this should have even happened.
And the worst part is that he blames himself for it! He thinks he ruined today, when it's the complete opposite. I wish I could just… grab him and force him to see things the way I do, to see HIM the way I do.
Just then, he heard a knock on the door, and he rose to his feet to look through the peephole. He exhaled heavily when he saw Ozzy in the hallway, rolling his weight from his heels to his toes and anxiously biting the nail off his thumb as he waited.
God, even just seeing you again makes me feel better, more grounded, more me.
The professor opened the door, and Ozzy immediately ran into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and flashing him the biggest, brightest smile he had ever seen.
Somehow you manage to lift me up and keep me anchored at the same time. I wish you could see just how important you are, just how special.
"I missed you," Ozzy sang, and the professor pushed the door shut and brought his hands down to cup Ozzy's cheeks.
"Me too," he whispered, leaning down and pressing their lips together. He moved his hands to his hair and smiled against his mouth, both of them sinking into the kiss like they'd finally come home.
Ozzy sighed contentedly and broke away, his smile lighting his face up in the most gentle of ways. "Did you find your armband? I was thinkin' we could go to a different part of the brain today, maybe the bit that deals with long-term memories, or something!"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Whatever you want, Oz." He paused for a moment as he weighed up a few different options in his head about where they could go. "Well, long-term memory isn't stored in just one place, but I think you'd like the amygdala. It kind of attaches emotions to things that Frank has experienced, so you won't only get to watch his memories, but also feel what he was feeling when he experienced them. It's pretty sick."
Ozzy's eyes lit up at that, and he gripped onto the professor's shirt and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Ah! That sounds so cool! Let's go there!"
"Okay," the professor replied with a laugh, stroking Ozzy's cheek with his palm. "Just lemme get my armband on and we can go."
"Righty-o, daddy-o," Ozzy chirped, watching as the professor walked over to the wardrobe. He rummaged around in one of the drawers for a moment, his expression suddenly turning serious as soon as he pulled out his armband.
Ozzy furrowed his brow at that, and followed the professor with his eyes as he slumped down onto the edge of the bed and brought the armband up over his bicep. His movements were heavier than usual, and Ozzy could tell that something was definitely going on inside his head.
"Thrax?" he said quietly, moving around to his side of the bed and sitting himself down next to him. He placed his hand on his knee and dipped his head to look him in the eye, smiling softly. "You all good?"
"Yeah," the professor replied, tightening the knot on his armband. "You ready to go?"
Ozzy hummed in response, and the professor turned his head to face him with a smile. "Okay, let's go then. I think there's a bus that can take us straight to the amygdala, so we should head down to the station round the corner and check the times."
"Okay, sounds good," Ozzy said quietly, tracing his fingers up and down his thigh. He held his gaze for a moment, just studying the professor's face for anything that might indicate what was going on in that head of his.
"You okay, Oz?" the professor asked, and Ozzy narrowed his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine, are you?"
"Yeah."
"You sure? You seem a bit… distant."
The professor visibly flinched at that, but he quickly forced a smile and placed a hand on the centre of Ozzy's chest to push him backwards onto the bed. "Oh, really?" he lulled, leaning over him and pressing his forearms into the sheets by his head, brushing his lips over his cheek as he lowered his body down onto his. "What about now?"
"Mhm, yeah, still distant," Ozzy replied plainly, and the professor frowned and raised his head to look into his eyes.
"How d'ya mean? I couldn't be any closer to you."
"Yeah, maybe physically, but you're still actin' weird. It's like you're avoidin' something, or holdin' something back."
The professor clicked his tongue and lowered his head again to nuzzle into the crook of Ozzy's neck, and Ozzy responded by gently trailing his fingertips up and down his back.
They stayed like this for a moment, Ozzy concluding that it was probably a good idea to wait until the professor had relaxed a little bit before asking him anything heavy.
"You like that, sir?"
The professor grunted, a wordless affirmation, and Ozzy smiled, his fingers drawing little circles just below his shoulder blades.
"We don't have to do anything this morning, y'know. I'm perfectly happy to just stay in here with you all day, if that's what you want."
The professor shook his head and grumbled something incoherent, but Ozzy shushed him and brought a hand up to sink his fingers into his hair and scratch over his scalp.
"Mmm… God, you're so good at that," Thrax whispered, pressing a kiss to Ozzy's neck and relaxing into him. "So fucking good to me."
Silence fell between them again, and Ozzy shut his eyes, letting his head relax into the sheets below.
He felt himself start to drift off, but was suddenly woken up with a start as he felt the professor's claw tap against his forehead a few times. He blinked his eyelids open, only to see the professor staring straight back at him, his face hovering just above his own.
"How do you know me so well, baby?" he asked, dragging his claw over one of Ozzy's eyebrows, before moving it down his cheek and pressing it into his skin.
Ozzy frowned. "Uh, I dunno. I guess I don't know you, really."
"You do, though. It's almost creepy how well you know me. It's like you can read my mind, or something."
Ozzy laughed. "No, it's not that. It's actually the opposite, really. I can't read your mind, and I never, ever know what you're thinkin, which is fucking infuriating sometimes… but I guess I understand you. That's the word I'm looking for. I look at you, and I can almost sense how you're feeling, or understand why you react the way you do to certain things."
"Oh, right," was all the professor could think to say, and he buried his face back into the crook of Ozzy's neck and left a small kiss.
After a few moments of silence, he sighed and slid both hands under the small of Ozzy's back to pull him closer. "Okay, you were right. I was upset before."
Ozzy nodded and started trailing his fingers over the professor's back again. "About what happened this morning?"
"Mhm. Getting refused service in those cafés, and the cops having a go at me, and then the way they spoke to you…" He pressed another kiss to Ozzy's neck and pulled him in closer. "I felt… powerless. Humiliated."
Ozzy stayed silent for a moment, waiting to see if the professor wanted to add anything else, before turning his head to drop a few slow kisses on his forehead. "I'm so sorry. That cop was a jerk, he shouldn'ta spoken to you like that."
"It's not just him, Ozzy. Any FPD officer woulda reacted the same way to seeing a virus without an armband. They're just following orders."
"From who?"
The professor stilled for a second, before tightening his grip around Ozzy's waist and sighing into his skin. "Just all the higher-ups in the FPD."
"Oh, right. You mean my uncle?"
A moment of heavy silence fell between them, until the professor nodded, and Ozzy sunk a hand into his hair and scratched his fingers over his scalp, as if to say 'thank you for being honest with me'.
The silence stretched between them then, both of them replaying the previous conversation over and over in their heads.
Eventually it was Ozzy who broke the silence, turning his head to press a kiss to the professor's forehead and whispering, "so, are we gonna stay here today?"
The professor hummed and leaned into the kiss. "We'll do whatever you wanna do, Ozzy."
"I wanna stay here."
"I thought you wanted to go see Frank's memories?"
"Yeah, I did, but now I'd much rather just stay here with you."
"You don't really mean that. This is your first time in the brain and you should enjoy it. Not be stuck in a hotel room with your boring old professor."
"Oh shush," Ozzy replied, tugging slightly on his hair. "Stop sayin' shit like that. You're not boring, or old. I love spendin' time with you, and you know I only came on this trip to try 'n' get a slice of that ass."
The professor grinned. "Oh, you got more than a slice, alright."
"Yeah, I got the whole damn cake," Ozzy said, reaching a hand down to slap him as hard as he could.
The professor laughed loudly and pushed himself up onto his forearms to look down into Ozzy's eyes. "Oh, so we're spanking now?"
"If you talk shit about yourself, yeah! You're my boyfriend, so insultin' yourself is like insulin' me!"
"How'd you come to that conclusion?"
"I'll have an essay on your desk by Wednesday," Ozzy replied smugly, sinking a hand into the professor's hair to pull him into a kiss.
They stayed like this for a few minutes, tongues washing over each other and hands curious, until they heard a grumble coming from Ozzy's stomach.
The professor pulled away and grinned down at him, running his fingers down Ozzy's side towards his belly. "You're hungry already?! You just ate!" and Ozzy laughed quietly, tangling a few braids around his fingers.
"Yeah, but all I ate was a couple of croissants! That ain't nearly enough to fill me up."
The professor arched an eyebrow at that, a low humming sound coming from the back of his throat as a million filthy images ran through his mind. "Right, well, how about we go get some food, then? I'm sure there's somewhere near here where we can get something to go."
"Nah," Ozzy said, shaking his head. "You've got a whole damn kitchen at your disposal, why don't you write me a list of ingredients and I'll run to a supermarket?"
The professor furrowed his brow. "Without me?"
"Yeah, it'll only take me twenty minutes max. Meanwhile, you can…" He lifted his head off the bed and looked around him, his smile growing as he saw the absolute mess that they had made of the previously immaculate hotel room.
He scoffed and returned his gaze back to the professor, rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed. "You can tidy up. Honestly, sir, I'd always pinned you as neat and organised, but I guess I was wrong. By the time I get back, this place had better be spotless."
Ozzy felt the knife slip again, almost cutting his hand, and he groaned and turned his head to look at the professor, his heart fluttering in his chest as soon as he saw what he looked like.
His brow was furrowed in concentration and his expression serious, the rest of him deliciously dishevelled with his sleeves rolled up and his hair pulled back in a messy bun, and Ozzy felt that familiar swirl of heat low in his belly.
He cocked his head and smiled sweetly, pushing his hips back slightly. "Thrax, can you show me how to open this garlic? I can't seem to do it…"
The professor turned his head and smiled softly, leaving the onions he was chopping on the side to go and stand behind Ozzy. He pressed himself against him and slid his hands over his, humming quietly as he took the knife from him. "Okay, garlic can be a bit annoying to open sometimes, but it's much easier if you use the flat side of your knife to press down on the clove… like this."
Ozzy's eyes lit up, and he nodded and pushed his hips back further. "Oh yeah! God, you're so good at everything. So now we peel it, right?"
"Yep, you take it like this and just remove the husk with your fingers," the professor said, peeling the skin off as carefully as he could, and Ozzy smiled as he watched him, relaxing back into his chest.
"Your claws are good for fiddly things like this," he uttered, and the professor smiled to himself, taking in a slow, deep breath as he felt the press of Ozzy's ass to his crotch.
"You try now," he said softly, and Ozzy did, copying exactly what he'd been shown, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration as he crushed the clove below his knife and peeled the skin away from the garlic.
The professor pressed a small kiss to the back of Ozzy's head as a 'well done' and took the knife from him again. "Okay, so to chop it, you're gonna wanna cut the clove cross ways, and as thin as you can get it, like this."
Ozzy watched as he cut the garlic, rocking the knife back and forth and only using the rear part to actually do the cutting.
"Why do you hold the knife like that?"
"It's safer this way, and it also helps to make sure that all the slices come out the same size."
"Mhm, you're so clever," he whispered, nestling against him further, the professor couldn't help the faint blush that spread over his cheekbones.
He finished chopping up the garlic and then let Ozzy have a go with the other one, patiently talking him through every step, before they moved onto the onions and the spinach.
They placed everything into a large skillet and let it simmer while they drained the pasta out over the sink and plated it up.
The professor took the garlic and onions off the heat and mixed them into the pasta, laughing as he watched Ozzy drizzle a very generous amount of creamy sauce on top. He grated some parmesan onto it too, kissing Ozzy on the forehead and picking up both the plates to take them out into the bedroom.
Ozzy waited a few seconds for him to leave the kitchen, before he opened the fridge door and grabbed the chocolate cake he'd also bought while he was at the supermarket. He ran out into the bedroom and dropped the plate in the middle of the table, and the professor arched an eyebrow.
"What the hell is that?" he asked, looking back up at Ozzy to see the corners of his mouth curving up towards the edges of his eyes.
"It's a cake!"
"I can see that. What flavour is it? Chocolate and…"
"Caramel, with extra buttercream icing!"
Oh. Ew. "Why didja buy it?"
"To celebrate our first 24 hours together as boyfriends," Ozzy chirped, sitting himself down next to the professor. "It's kind of a big deal, dontcha think? I've never actually had a proper relationship before."
"Aw," the professor replied, softening his expression as he leaned down to press a kiss to Ozzy's cheek. "Thank you." Okay, I guess now isn't the right moment to come clean about the fact that I fucking HATE chocolate…
"Well, first we'll eat the dinner we made together, and then we can have some of the cake, sound good?"
Ozzy nodded and picked up his fork, clumsily swirling a few spaghetti noodles around it before bringing it up to his mouth and shoving it in.
"I hope you like it, baby. The kitchen here isn't great, so it's not exactly my best, but I-" the professor started to say, interrupted by Ozzy moaning loudly and rolling his eyes shut.
"Fuck, this is incredible," he mumbled through a mouthful of pasta and cream, some of the sauce already dripping down his chin. "And you're sayin' that this, flmmpf, isn't your best?! Shit, I can't wait, mhmm, to try your cooking at your house."
The professor frowned at that. "My house?"
"Mmmh, yeah, when you invite me round to stay the night, or something. Fuck, this is so good."
"Oh, yeah," the professor said quietly, and Ozzy turned to face him.
"Come on, dig in! You haven't even touched your food!" he said, shoving another huge forkful of pasta into his mouth.
Professor Roja nodded and did as he was told, twirling a couple of spaghetti noodles around his fork and taking a bite, smiling to himself as soon as he realised how good it tasted. "Okay, mmm, I gotta admit that this is pretty good."
"Good? It's fucking heavenly!"
The professor laughed softly and patted Ozzy on the head. "It's all thanks to my lil helper here."
Ozzy smiled at him, and the professor reached a hand up again to wipe some cream off his chin with a napkin. "God, I love watching you eat."
"Really?" Ozzy asked with a frown. "Drips hates it. He says I eat like a wild animal."
The professor laughed. He's not wrong. "So, how did you and Drix meet, anyway? It ain't common to see a friendship between a cell and a pill."
Ozzy swallowed the food in his mouth and swirled some more pasta around it while he thought about his answer. "We met at my uncle's precinct. I often spent my weekends there. I was around 6 I think, and I was rummaging around in the lost and found box under someone's desk when I heard my uncle callin' me over."
He shoved the pasta into his mouth and chewed loudly, letting out a soft little moan as he swallowed it down. "I stuck my head up over the desk and saw this… thing. A big red and yellow box with a floating head and weird pink bubbles comin' out his ass."
The professor laughed, and Ozzy continued, wildly gesticulating with his hands as he spoke. "He was the freakiest thing I'd ever seen, and I thought he was some sorta super hero or something, until he opened his mouth and spoke with the most ridiculously pretentious accent I'd ever heard. Anyway, my uncle told me that I had to keep Drips company while he sorted out his paperwork, and that's how we became friends."
"What did you guys do?"
"We played with the guns in the firearms department round back. He was apprehensive at first, but as soon as I pulled out a gun that looked a lil bit like a cannon, he was all in. You see, his canon didn't work back then, so I guess he wanted to see what it was like to shoot one."
"Oh? Why didn't it work?"
"Mmh, he's tried to explain it to me hundreds of times, but I still don't really get it. Something about his manufacturer releasing him to the market way too soon. He was only about 8 years old when I met him, so I guess maybe he was too young to use his cannon, or something."
"Oh, wow, yeah that is way too young. Most new medication doesn't get approved for, like, 15 years. I'm surprised he got approved for the market, to be honest. How did Frank end up taking him?"
Ozzy swallowed his last mouthful of pasta and threw his fork down on the plate. "Drips claims it was through uncle Bob, Frank's brother."
"Oh, that guy. He's always up to something dodgy; drinking, gambling, brothels… I wouldn't be surprised if he was involved in the making of illegitimate drugs, too. Maybe Drix was so young because he wasn't officially on the market yet, or even FDA approved."
Ozzy shrugged and picked up his plate, moving it to the other side of the table to make room for the cake. "Yeah, I dunno, but it affected Drips loads growin' up. He always felt like he wasn't wanted by anyone, like he was useless. What's the point of a pill that can't cure or heal anything?"
He picked up a spoon and plunged it into the cake, his eyes sparkling as he stared at it. "I guess that's the main reason we became such good friends. We could both identify with the feeling of not being worth anything, not being wanted."
He shoved the cake into his mouth and rolled his head back, moaning so loudly that the professor felt his jeans tighten. "Fuck!" Ozzy yelled out, diving his spoon back into the cake for more. "You gotta try this, it's fuckin' insane! God, mmph, shit!"
The professor swallowed the saliva now pooling in his mouth, and watched as Ozzy brought the second spoonful up to his mouth, his lips glistening with saliva and cream and only Frank knows what else.
"So, ahem, is Drix happier now? Has he learned to accept himself?"
Ozzy nodded and swallowed loudly. "Yeah, he's fine now. He was valedictorian at our old school and got a scholarship to study Biology and Medicine at Cornea. His cannon works loads better, and he wants to become a doctor one day to help heal Frank's cells. 'If I can't cure Frank of any diseases, at least I can help his cells'", Ozzy announced, putting on a fake English accent for the last bit.
The professor smiled at that, the heat rising to his cheeks again as he heard Ozzy let out a couple more little moans. He lightly shoved him on the shoulder with his hand and tutted, uttering, "Jones, you eat like you're getting paid to do it," and Ozzy rolled his eyes.
"You're such a pervert," he mumbled, bringing another spoonful of cake up to his mouth, and the professor knew he was doing it on purpose now - the way he was dragging his tongue over the spoon, swirling it around and lapping it all up, melted chocolate and caramel oozing fucking everywhere.
Every bite came with a moan, and for the professor it was like watching living porn. No, actually it was better than that, because he could just reach out and touch him if he wanted to.
And he wanted to.
He smirked and reached up to cup Ozzy's face, and Ozzy thought for a moment that it was going to be something tender, until he felt him smear a fat dollop of buttercream over his cheek.
He yelled out and laughed as he brought a hand up to wipe his face clean, but the professor took hold of his wrist before he could, gripping tight as he slowly leaned forwards to brush his lips along the edge of Ozzy's jawline.
"Sir?" Ozzy asked quietly, and the professor shushed him, loosening his grip on his wrist and pressing his tongue against his cheek, all soft and wet and warm. Ozzy sighed and shut his eyes, drowning in the feeling of the professor's hot tongue and breath dragging over his skin as he continued to slowly lick him clean.
"Mmm…" Thrax uttered, lowering his head to very lightly drag his teeth against Ozzy's throat. "You taste so good." A nip. "Delicious."
He pressed a kiss to Ozzy's jaw, before moving back and scraping some more buttercream off the top of the cake with his thumb. "Would you like some more?" he asked, a small smile crossing his face as Ozzy flicked his eyelids open and nodded. "Mhm. What a hungry boy I've got. Okay, open wide for me."
A soft laugh rolled past Ozzy's lips, but he did as he was told and readily parted them for him. The professor dragged his thumb along Ozzy's bottom lip for a second, pressing down and smearing some icing over it, before slipping his claw inside his mouth.
Ozzy moaned softly, his tongue immediately curling up to meet his claw, and Thrax responded by pressing down onto it and pushing his thumb further inside. Ozzy's eyelids fluttered slightly, a dizzying rush of lust and yearning and arousal swirling low in his belly.
His tongue washed over the professor's claw, and he gazed up at him from under his lashes as he moaned again, a deep and guttural sound in his throat, and the professor felt it, soft little shivers running up from his hand and into his chest.
"God, your mouth," he uttered, his voice raw and low. He gently dragged his claw along the top of Ozzy's tongue as he went to withdraw his thumb, his gaze drifting from his full lips to his open mouth, and back again. "The things I wanna do to you."
He cupped Ozzy's face with one hand and dragged his thumb over his bottom lip again, and Ozzy smiled, nuzzling his cheek into his palm.
"You can, if you like," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, and the professor cocked his head, not quite sure what Ozzy was referring to.
"What's that, Oz?"
"Those things you wanna do to me. You can do them."
The professor's eyes shot open, and he laughed nervously. "Oh… what, exactly?"
Ozzy smirked, standing up to slide onto the professor's lap and looping his arms around his neck. "All of it. If you like."
"All of it…?" Thrax asked, curling his hands around his hips to pull him closer.
"If you like," Ozzy repeated, his voice low and his eyelids heavy, and he gasped as he felt the professor's claws press into the flesh of his ass.
"If I like. "
And with that, they were falling into bed together again, their clothes scattered around the room in a crumpled mess and their limbs tangled up in each other. The air turned hot and humid as they rubbed against each other, slowly but steadily, like warm waves lapping at the shore.
They felt every motion, every slide of their skin, and Thrax sunk his claws into the flesh of Ozzy's ass to pull him in better, holding him there to rock against him in little circles. He groaned as Ozzy threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged, and he responded by digging his claws in deeper and pulling him somehow even closer.
The kiss grew almost aggressive, a mess of panting breaths and warm tongues and desperate, yearning groans. A soft golden light trickled through the window and bounced onto the sheets around them, the slide of their mouths hot and wet and perfect as they parted to go in for another open kiss.
They were being way too loud, but neither one of them could find it in themselves to care. The only people who existed right now were each other, and they let the room fill with words of praise and adoration between hitched moans and gasps.
Ozzy pushed on Thrax's chest to roll him onto his back, and Thrax pulled him up to straddle his waist. He groaned then as he felt Ozzy pushing his hips back to rub himself against his arousal, and he sunk his claws into his skin to hold him in place as he rolled his hips upwards to grind against him.
"Shit, yes," Ozzy said through a groan, his breath hot against Thrax's mouth, and he pushed back further, a slow, deep circle of his hips against Thrax's cock.
He let out a shuddering gasp and dug his fingernails into Thrax's shoulders then as he felt him grind harder into the space between his legs and press a couple of bruising, desperate kisses to his neck, whispering something that sounded like a blurred mix of, "beautiful boy…", "mine…", "want you so fucking bad..."
Ozzy pulled back to grind against his cock again, his eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging slightly open, and all the professor could do was watch, letting his gaze slowly drift over every single part of his face.
From his curls, the way they stuck to his forehead, all tousled from rough fingers; to the curve of his lips, so soft and plump and full; to the sweep of his neck, a map of marks and bruises, the sharp outline of his jaw illuminated in a soft amber light; and finally, to his eyes as he fluttered them open, deep and dark and liquid like chocolate, warmer than the hottest summer or the highest fever.
The professor would have been perfectly content to stay like this forever - just staring into his eyes and allowing himself to sink deeper and deeper - until he suddenly felt Ozzy's lips press to his, all feather light and silky soft, whispering a quiet, "I'm so in love with you," against them, and Thrax felt his self control all but crash.
Ozzy felt claws dig harshly into his waist then, lifting him up as if he weighed less than a bag of sugar and pulling him up and over Thrax's chest. It took him a second to understand what the hell was happening, but his confused gasp quickly melted into a sigh as he felt the press of a hot, wet tongue between his legs.
His head fell back in a moan, throaty and rough and loud, and he spread his legs for the professor, digging his knees into the sheets on either side of his head.
He gripped hard onto the headboard with both hands and let his head fall forwards against it, rolling his hips against him once, twice, "Ah…! Thrax!" three times. He clawed at the headboard and continued to rock his hips to drag himself against Thrax's mouth, reaching a hand down to tug at his hair.
Thrax hummed in approval, a deep, low noise in the back of his throat, and Ozzy could feel it, the sensation flowing through him like water. He shuddered and opened his eyes to meet his gaze, and fuck was that a mistake.
Dark, possessive, obsessive, and with so much fucking affection that Ozzy felt it in his chest, a warm, melting feeling curling itself around his heart and into his soul.
"I love you," he whispered, the liquid coil of heat below his stomach tightening further as Thrax squeezed his ass and pulled him closer. He rocked his hips forwards to chase the feeling - the feeling of the professor's tongue and claws pressing into him; of his low moans vibrating up through his hips and over his thighs; of his eyes staring up at him past the hard curve of his cock, his gaze a dangerous mix of lust and adoration and worship, burning into him and through him and over him.
If it had been anyone else looking at him like that, Ozzy probably would have been terrified, but this was Thrax, his professor, the person who made him feel safer than anyone else ever had or could. Ozzy fluttered his eyelids shut and breathed Thrax's name, his back arching and his head falling back as he felt him force his legs open wider and push his tongue inside.
"Oh my God… oh my God," he repeated, his words matching the rhythm of his hips, and Thrax made a low noise in the back of his throat, staring up at him as a ray of sunshine broke through the window pane and weaved its way around him and through him, carving shadows onto his face and bathing him in tones of gold and amber. He watched as his back arched further, the curve of his body so fucking perfect, exposing himself just right as if he was putting on a goddamn show for him.
Thrax pulled back slightly, letting his breath ghost over the skin between his thighs for a second. "Turn around," he whispered, and Ozzy slowly blinked his eyes open to gaze down at him, but before he could even get a word out, Thrax had already lifted him up by his waist and spun him around to face the other way.
"Whatever happens after today, you're mine, and I'm yours. Got it?" he growled, pushing Ozzy down and forcing his thighs open to make him straddle his chest. Ozzy nodded, responding with a muffled "yes" into the professor's stomach as he felt him curling his claws around his hips and guiding them backwards.
"Be loud for me, baby," Thrax ordered on an exhale, sweeping over him with his tongue again and closing a hand around his cock, and the noise that Ozzy made was one of absolute fucking bliss, soft whines devolving into something rawer, louder, filthier.
For a second, they thought they heard someone walking past their room, the sound of soft footsteps and low conversation on the other side of the wooden door distracting them for just a moment, but not even the threat of being caught was enough to stop them now.
They wouldn't have been able to stop even if the world was ending, with Thrax focusing all of his attention on Ozzy, every quake and shudder against his mouth sending a throb of desire through his whole body.
He couldn't care less if anyone found them like this; in fact, he almost wanted Ozzy to be loud, and for every single cell in the whole of Frank to hear him. To prove that, even if their relationship went against every single rule in the book, that at least it was real. To show them that Ozzy was his, only his, and that he was Ozzy's.
Ozzy melted against Thrax's chest, pressing his cheek to his lower stomach and moaning into his skin, his mind feeling like it was drowning, everything centred down to the point where their bodies met, hot and wet and dripping.
He was making noises that he didn't even recognise, cut-off gasps and moans as his vision blurred from the tears in his eyes and the lack of blood in his head. He heard the professor moan then, and Ozzy felt it like a rush of warm water, shivers of sensation rolling over his hips and up his spine.
"Fuck… "
He reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Thrax's cock, stroking him slowly at first, before twisting on an upstroke and gripping tight as he moved downwards with his hand, taking Thrax's second moan as permission to close his mouth around him.
He spread his legs as wide as they would go and moaned around Thrax's cock, his mouth so warm and soft and wet against him, and they melted into each other, barely knowing where one body ended and the other began.
Moan after moan was dragged out of them both, deep and throaty and downright obscene. They were shattered from any form of reality, everything else frozen, aware of nothing but the connection between them and the desperate need to keep everything just like this.
They were so utterly consumed, so completely focused on making the other one feel as good as possible, that they barely even noticed the hot, slow river now rushing down to the space between their legs.
Their movements were becoming clumsier by the second, taking on a more desperate edge as their minds hazed over with pleasure. The professor groaned and let his head fall back into the pillow, taken completely by surprise as he suddenly felt himself coming into Ozzy's mouth.
He rolled his hips upwards and moaned his name, flicking his eyes open just in time to see Ozzy throw his head back and cry out, his body creating a beautiful arch as he completely lost himself.
He came hard and messy between them, looking like a sunset bleeding orange into the evening sky as the professor's cum sank down his throat and spread through his body.
It was seconds or it was years before they came down from their high, with hues of every colour exploding behind their eyes; from greens and blues and pale yellows of the sun shining over a fast-moving river, to reds and whites and purples of supernovas and faraway stars.
Their breathing came down slowly, and Ozzy moved back up the bed to lay beside the professor again. Their hands stroked over each other, soft and lovely, while they both whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears.
"You're perfect."
"I'm yours."
"My home."
"I'm nothing without you."
"You and I, we're everything."
"You're the sun to my moon."
"One second with you is better than a lifetime with anyone else."
They didn't know how long they had been like this - somewhere between a few seconds or a few hours - but, like all good things, this too had to come to an end eventually.
They both jumped when they heard the alarm from the professor's phone - the alarm he had set to warn them about when it was time to start getting ready to leave.
The gentle sound of a brook babbling over a forest floor pushed its way around the room, and the professor tightened his grip around Ozzy. It was the same alarm he used most mornings in an attempt to try and draw himself out of his turbulent sleep as gently as possible, but right now it was the worst sound he could possibly hear, like reality tapping on the window pane of their perfect little house and shattering the glass into a thousand sharp pieces.
"No," Ozzy whimpered, sliding his arms around the professor's neck and shoving his face into his chest. "I don't wanna go."
The professor sighed, tightening his grip around Ozzy's waist. "I don't wanna go either."
"Can we stay? Just another night. Please?"
He heard the professor sniff quietly then, and Ozzy hugged him tighter. "Please," he begged, digging his nails into his back. "I don't wanna let you go."
"Me neither. But we have to."
Tears streamed down Ozzy's face, and he whined against Thrax's chest. "It's not fair."
"I know…"
"It's not fucking fair!"
"I know, trust me, I know," the professor whispered, running a hand up and down Ozzy's back to try and soothe him as best he could despite the lump rising in his own throat and the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
He let a few more minutes pass, waiting for Ozzy's breathing to even out again before dropping his head to leave a long, lingering kiss on his forehead. "Come on, Oz. We've gotta get ready."
He felt Ozzy stiffen against him, and the sound of the sobs that followed shot through the professor like an arrow, the guilt searing itself into his soul and threatening to crush him from the inside out.
He pushed against Ozzy's shoulder to create some distance, his heart feeling like it was being ripped up into a thousand tiny pieces as he forced himself to stand up and walk over to turn his alarm off on the way to the bathroom, his own voice echoing around in his mind. 'Come on, Oz. We've gotta get ready.' Pfft. Ready. Ready for what, exactly?
He shut the door behind him and placed his hands on the sides of the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. Ready to say goodbye to this? To the happiest I've ever been?
He shut his eyes as he felt a tear push its way out and roll down his cheek. Ready to leave all this behind? To being able to look at him and hold him and touch him as much as I want? Hearing him laugh and seeing him smile at me in that way that makes my whole chest ache?
"Fuck," he hissed, wiping his eyes dry with the back of his hand. Stop it. Stop being such a fucking baby. I have to be the strong one here. I have to pretend to be okay about this, to act like this isn't affecting me as badly as it is. I need to be there for him, to keep comforting him and telling him 'it'll be fine'.
He let his head fall forwards as he felt more tears pooling in his eyes, hands gripping tightly onto the sides of the sink. Even though I don't think it will be.
Biting back a sob, he grabbed a towel from the rack and started to dry off his chest and stomach. Fuck, how am I gonna do this? How am I gonna be able to be on that fucking bus with him and act as if everything's normal?
It should be easy. I've done this my whole life: pushed my feelings down and pretended that everything's fine. It should be like second fucking nature to me by this point.
My mom would be laughing if she could see me now. I can practically hear her voice. 'Pathetic waste of space'… 'fucking crybaby'... 'useless.'
He pushed his hair out of his eyes and let the towel fall to the floor, bringing both hands up to cover his face. Just a few more hours… a few more hours of holding it all in. You'll be home soon, and no one will be able to see you. You'll be safe, hidden, alone.
All alone.
"Shit," he whispered, kicking the cabinet with his foot. And that's the cruellest part about all of this. I don't wanna be alone. Not anymore. I feel like I finally found the only person in the whole fucking world who gets me, sees me, understands me.
When I'm with him, everything's good. The loud, violent shores of my mind are finally calm, and I feel so, so happy.
But, apparently, it can't be as simple as that. It has to be complicated, messy, scary. I'm not allowed to be happy unless that happiness is wrapped up in huge amounts of sacrifice.
Just then, he heard the click of the bathroom door, and he looked back up to the mirror to see Ozzy standing in the doorway behind him.
Ozzy smiled at him, but the professor simply frowned and looked back down to hide his face.
"J-just gimme a minute, Oz. I'll be done in a sec-" he started to say, falling silent as soon as he felt Ozzy's arms snake around his waist. He stiffened for a moment, before letting his body relax back into him. "Sorry for taking so long… I'm just gonna wash my face and then-"
"Shh, stop pretendin'," Ozzy whispered, running his fingers over the professor's stomach. "Let yourself be sad. It's okay."
"Let myself be sad…?" the professor repeated on an exhale, and Ozzy nodded against him.
"And it's okay to let yourself cry, too. It doesn't make you weak, or anything. But whatever happens, I've got you. Remember that."
A soft little noise made its way out of the professor's mouth then, and before Ozzy had the chance to work out what that meant, he had already spun around and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He held onto him, digging his palms into his skin and clinging to him so fucking tightly it was like he never wanted to let him go, as if he was lost at sea on a boat being battered by a storm, and Ozzy was his lifeline.
The professor sighed, a long and shuddering breath travelling over the top of Ozzy's head as he let a few tears roll down his cheeks, and Ozzy squeezed him tighter.
"It's gonna be okay."
The professor shook his head, his voice choked. "You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do."
"How?"
Ozzy took in a deep breath and snaked a hand up the professor's back to scratch over his scalp with his fingers. "I just know."
A teeny tiny laugh rolled out of the professor's mouth then, and he tightened his grip around Ozzy's shoulders. "Sorry, Ozzy, but 'I just know' doesn't sound like a very strong hypothesis to me," he whispered, and Ozzy laughed, moving his head back to look up at him with big, round eyes.
"Tsk, once a professor, always a professor. Fine, lemme put it another way," he said warmly, pressing his fingers into the soft skin over the small of Thrax's back. "Okay, so y'know what I tried to tell you back when we were thinkin' of ways to help me study?"
The professor nodded, and Ozzy smiled, lowering his voice as he continued. "It's like… nothing has ever been clear for me, like, in my head. It's always a jumbled mess of random thoughts and spontaneous ideas and pointless bullshit. But with you, everything just… falls into place. Nothing has ever been so easy, so straightforward, so simple."
The professor smiled sadly and shook his head. "Ozzy, there's nothing simple or easy about it. If they find us, they'll-"
"I know," Ozzy interrupted, lowering his hands and digging his fingers into his flesh. "I know it's gonna be hard, all the hidin' and sneakin' around and the fear of being caught. I wasn't talkin' about all that. I meant our relationship - us, me and you - that's easy. We're easy. And we're worth it. We're worth the fight and the struggle, and I'm more than willing to sometimes feel a little sad or scared over it, just as long as I get to be with you. Do you get what I'm tryna say?"
The professor gave a small nod, and Ozzy let the corners of his mouth curve up into a big smile.
"So I don't care how hard it gets, because I trust this, I trust us, and even if we can't see each other all the time, I'll always know that you're right here," Ozzy whispered, moving back slightly and placing a hand over the right side of his chest.
The professor bit his lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and took Ozzy's hand in his own to move it to the other side of his chest. "Your heart's here, Oz. On the left side."
They smiled at each other for a moment, before the professor wrapped his arms around Ozzy again and pushed his head back down into his chest. "God, I'm gonna miss you so much."
"Me too."
"You're my baby."
"And you're my daddy."
The professor's eyes shot open at that, but he decided to let it go for now, concluding that this probably wasn't the right time for that.
They held each other in silence for a moment, until Thrax cleared his throat to speak again. "I don't know how… I don't think I'm gonna be able to do this," he said quietly, a shuddering breath cutting into his words. "I wanna be strong for you, to tell you that it's all gonna be fine, but I…"
"Shh… you don't gotta be strong all the time, sir. You've always been there for me, now let me be there for you."
The professor smiled at that, grunting as he felt Ozzy squeeze his arms around his waist. "Fuck, not so tight, Jones."
Ozzy smiled too and made sure to squeeze even harder. "What's that? Tighter you say?"
"Gah, no! Let go of me, you little squit!" Thrax squeaked, struggling to breathe.
"Thaaaat's it, let it all out, big boy. All those nasty feelings. Don't worry, I gotchu, and I won't ever let you go."
A trembling, tender laugh escaped the professor at that, and he lifted Ozzy off the ground to pull him into a hug. "You're utterly insufferable, you know that?" he whispered, and Ozzy grinned and wrapped his arms around his neck.
"Right back atcha, sir. I dunno how I even stand to be around ya, to be honest."
"Me neither. You're one of the most annoying people I've ever met."
"And yet you can't get enough of me," Ozzy whispered back, before slotting their mouths together, an open, warm and oh so loving kiss.
The second alarm sounded on the professor's phone, but neither of them moved to turn it off. They stayed in place, clinging onto each other like the horizon holds onto a sunset, every second feeling like a lifetime as they enjoyed the safety of their hotel room one last time.
