"Right, everyone open your books to page 31," Professor Roja mumbled through a yawn, rubbing his eyes with one hand and writing the page number on the chalkboard with the other.

It was 9:15 am on Monday morning, his first class with Ozzy since the hypothalamus trip, and he was absolutely exhausted.

Despite his and Ozzy's sensible plan to only spend Saturday night together in his office, Sunday morning had quickly come and gone - Sunday afternoon too - and by the time they next checked their phones, it was somehow already 4am on Monday morning.

By that point it was far too late to go home, too late to even bother trying to fall asleep, and the professor had simply sighed - part exhaustion, part elation - before pulling Ozzy back into another open kiss, all soft and warm and sleepy, and pushing him to roll onto his back.

His hands slid to the backs of Ozzy's tired legs to hold him open, and he fucked him over and over again until the sun rose, all sweet and slow and lazy, keeping the borders between them blurred for just a little bit longer, before begrudgingly breaking away, throwing on their wrinkled clothes and heading to the biology classroom.

It was safe to say that they were both feeling the lack of sleep now, but especially the professor. He wasn't used to late nights anymore, he couldn't hack them like he used to be able to when he was younger, and he finished another loud yawn before turning around to face the class, his eyes tired and droopy.

He knew he looked like shit right now; he hadn't showered since Saturday morning, hadn't eaten anything except a few cheap takeaways, hadn't slept more than maybe six hours during the last two days, and he could only imagine what the students were thinking about the dark circles under his eyes, his messy hair, the bruises on his neck and wrists, his wrinkled shirt and dirty jeans.

His appearance was something he took great pride in, and he would usually never dream of showing up to work like this, but after the weekend he'd had, he just couldn't find it in himself to care.

Everything that had happened since he'd drunkenly leaned in and kissed Ozzy on Friday night in the hotel room had felt like a fever dream, all soft and warm and fuzzy at the edges. Every second had been so happy, so delicious, so mind-blowingly perfect that it couldn't possibly have actually happened, right?

Except it had, and he now felt a smile attempting to pull at the corner of his lips as a few memories sped through his mind. He quickly caught himself, and forced a frown instead, rolling his gaze across each row of students from the back of the room to the front to make sure that everyone had opened their books to the correct page.

After what felt like an age, he eventually allowed his gaze to swing round to Ozzy, and his frown softened slightly. He allowed his eyes to linger for a beat too long - inhaling deep, exhaling slow - before lowering his gaze to Ozzy's desk to see that he hadn't opened his textbook yet.

"Turn to page 31, Jones," he said gently, and he was about to turn back around to write something on the board, when he suddenly heard Ozzy speak up.

"What if I don't want to, sir?"

The professor frowned, spinning back around to face Ozzy as his defiance echoed off the cold walls. "What do you mean? Open your book."

Ozzy crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. "No. I don't wanna," he said, peeking his tongue out for a second to wet his bottom lip, and the line between the professor's brows deepened further.

What's he doing? "Open the damn book, Jones."

"What page was it again? 69?," Ozzy lulled, his voice low and his eyes hazy, and the professor felt a spike of heat run through him, rising all the way to his face and sinking low in his belly.

He hesitated for a second to collect himself, before forcing a scowl and grabbing his own textbook from his desk. "Page 31. Now open the fucking book."

"Make me."

"How old are you, twelve?!"

"I should hope not, for your sake."

The professor's eyebrows arched impossibly at that comment, and he sat back in his chair and breathed in deep, trying to calm himself down before saying anything else. "I have no idea what that means. Stop acting like a baby and open your book."

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

The professor sucked some air in through his teeth and dug his claws into his textbook. I'm gonna fuck your mouth so hard you won't be able to speak for a whole week, that's what. "Nothing, Jones. I don't give a shit whether you learn anything here today or not. If you wanna continue to throw your pathetic life away, that's fine by me, but at least do it quietly and stop fucking everything up for everyone else."

Silence fell between them then, and the professor looked down at his textbook, breathing in deep as he felt a sharp sting of guilt in his chest. Fuck. Did I go too far?

Before the class had started, he had warned Ozzy that he would have to treat him like any other student in order to keep up appearances; raising his voice if necessary, disciplining him if he slacked off or disrupted the class, and fighting back if Ozzy gave him any attitude in front of the other students.

However, despite their agreement, he absolutely hated the thought of accidentally going too far and upsetting Ozzy again like he had all those weeks ago in his office, and he flicked his eyes back up to look at him and check if he was all right, only to see him smirking to himself and opening the textbook to the right page.

Oh, he's okay. He was just playing before. Thank God. Cheeky lil shit.

The professor breathed a sigh of relief and let a teeny tiny smile break out on his face, before lifting the book up to the side of his head and jabbing his claw onto the page. "Right, as y'all know, we're about to finish Unit 2, so I would first like everyone to do the quiz on page 31, just to see how much y'all remember from last week's classes. Put your pens down when you're done."

He left the textbook on his desk and clasped both hands together underneath his chin, narrowing his eyes as he watched Ozzy pick up his pencil and start on the first question.

He let himself stare at him for a few more moments, smiling softly when he saw the little lines on Ozzy's forehead deepen as he read the first question, the way his soft lips moved as he mouthed the words to try and understand them better. Fuck me. How is he so cute?

He continued to glide his gaze over him for a moment longer, from the translucent, tousled curls that hung messily over his forehead, to the map of bruises and marks sweeping down his neck, to his dark eyes, all big and bright and vibrant…

Almost too vibrant.

Wait, how in Frank's name does he look so good right now? the professor thought, frowning as he noticed how incredibly, annoyingly awake and bubbly Ozzy seemed to be. He slept less than me, ate way worse than I did, hasn't changed his clothes in over two days, and not to mention the fact that he just got fucked every which way over the last 24 hours by someone twice his size. I mean, I know he's younger than me, but still, this is just unfair!

The professor tutted, and was about to look back down at his own textbook, when he saw Ozzy shut his eyes and slowly roll his head backwards, exposing his throat to him, all bruised and bitten and beautiful.

He parted his lips and let out a tiny gasp, arching his back and pushing out his chest as if he was stretching. The fabric of his white T-shirt was being pulled so fucking tight over his skin as he raised his arms above his head, the shape of his chest and waist and shoulders all too visible to anyone who would happen to be looking.

Ozzy didn't even have to open his eyes to know that the professor's gaze was totally fixed on him right now, and he smiled, before letting the teeniest tiniest little moan slip past his lips - well, more a whimper than a moan, a sound he'd only ever made in front of the professor before, a sound that he knew he really fucking liked - and the professor breathed in deep as he felt the heat start to pool between his thighs.

He kept his eyes locked on Ozzy, watching as he slowly rolled his head from left to right and brought his hands to his hair, tangling his fingers into his curls and allowing his jaw to drop open further to let out a loud gasp.

Right, that's it, the professor thought, slamming his fist down on the desk and making everyone jump. "Jones. Stop acting like a fucking freak and do the work. Don't make me come over there."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Ozzy hit back, letting his hands fall down onto his desk with a thud, but the professor simply rolled his eyes and tutted, not wanting to give him anymore ammunition.

He waited a few moments for everyone to get back to work, before reaching into his desk drawer, taking out his phone and writing a message.

'Ozzy! What the hell are you doing?'

He heard the buzz of Ozzy's phone and looked back up at him, watching through thick lashes as he reached into his pocket and took it in his hand.

The smile that spread across his little face upon seeing the message made the professor's heart ache for him, a confusing mix of love and exasperation, and he kept his gaze locked on him as he punched out a response.

He looked down at his phone as soon as he felt the vibration in his hand, his frown deepening when he read what it said.

'Nothing, sir :3'

He clenched his hand around the phone and looked back up at Ozzy, watching as he simply laid his own phone down on the desk and continued working on the quiz, as if nothing had happened.

What the fuck is he doing? Is he still fucking with me? Trying to get me back for yelling at him before? Trying to expose us? What the actual fuck is going on? the professor thought, holding his phone way too tightly as he angrily stabbed at the screen with his claw to type out another message.

'What do you mean 'nothing'?! You're acting weird… weirder than usual! And what the fuck does that colon next to the three mean?'

He heard Ozzy laugh at that, soft and barely audible, but just enough to make a few students look up at him and frown, before turning their attention to the professor, clearly expecting him to do something about Ozzy's insolence.

But to their surprise and disappointment, he simply waved a hand at them as if to dismiss it, gesturing down at his textbook for them to continue with the quiz, before snapping his eyes back to his phone when he felt it buzz again.

'Am I being a bad boy, daddy? :3c'

"Fuck," the professor hissed, and it was Ozzy's turn to look up at him now, his smile growing impossibly large as he watched the way the professor shifted in his seat and crossed one leg over the other.

He couldn't quite explain it, but being back in this classroom with Professor Roja was doing things to him, making him act this way. It almost felt like they'd gone back to the very beginning of term, before the trip, before the tennis match, before the review, back to when their relationship was nothing but a confusing mix of lust and anger and desire.

There had always been tension between them, thick and obvious to literally everybody around them, and so fucking thrilling that it set Ozzy's very soul alight every time they were in the same room together.

And while that tension was still very much there, now it was actually rooted in something tangible, something real, and it was so so much better because of it. They had their little secret - dirty and dark and dangerous - a secret that only they knew, and even just the thought of it was driving Ozzy insane, a hazy rush of adrenaline pushing through his body every time he allowed himself to look over at Thrax.

There was something so exciting about the fact they couldn't do anything right now, something so fun about messing with the professor like this, and for Ozzy it almost felt like he was allowing his past self to live out all the dirty little fantasies that he'd had since the beginning of term.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this class.

He jumped in his seat then as the professor suddenly slammed his hand back down on the desk and stood up, placing his textbook in front of his now very tight jeans.

"Right, time's up. You at the back, yes you, the green cell with the frog hat, what did you get for number 1?"

The class went through the questions one by one, with the professor working from the back of the room to the front and making sure to save the more difficult questions for last.

Eventually, he reached Ozzy's row, and his eyes narrowed as their gazes locked onto each other. "Alright, Jones. Since you obviously know everything already, why don't you take a stab at question 20?" he said, a hint of snark in his voice as he sat back down in his creaking seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

He knew full well that Ozzy hadn't had time to finish the quiz - that he probably hadn't studied for this unit at all due to everything that had happened over the last week - and a smirk pulled at the corner of the professor's lips as he watched Ozzy's cocky expression fade into something slightly more nervous.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.

"Oh, uh, yeah! Just gimme a sec to find it…" Ozzy replied nervously, his eyes darting over his empty quiz as he searched for question 20. Jerk. He knows I haven't answered a single one of these. He's just tryna embarrass me in front of everyone and get back at me for before. Fuck, everyone's starin' at me. Where are ya, pesky question?

After what felt like an eternity, he finally found question 20, and he read it over slowly in his head a few times, mouthing the syllables under his breath as he did. 'What are the three major parts of the mitotic spindle?'

His eyes widened and his chest tightened, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. What?! When did we learn this?! What the fuck is a spindle?!

"Jones?"

Ozzy snapped his head up to look at him with big round eyes, his lips slightly parted and his heart thumping away in his chest as he searched his brain for something that could pass for an answer. "Uhh…"

Despite the fact that he and the professor were now officially dating, and the need to impress him had softened significantly, he still didn't want to appear like an idiot in front of him, and much less in front of the entire first year biology class.

"We're waiting," the professor said, claws rhythmically tapping on his desk.

"Yeah, uh, sorry, lemme just think for a mo."

The professor arched an eyebrow. "You don't know the answer?"

"N-no, I do, it's just, I don't remember it right now, heh," Ozzy mumbled, physically cringing as he heard two students behind him start to whisper.

"Hmm… pity," the professor said, sitting back down in his seat. "I had expected more from you, given how arrogantly you've been acting."

They both felt a sting in their chests as soon as that word made its way out of Thrax's mouth, but Ozzy simply took in a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders, reminding himself of the fact that the professor didn't actually mean any of what he was saying. "Yeah well, it's probably just because I'm a bit tired, sir. I didn't get much sleep last night, or the night before. You know how it is at the beginning of a relationship, when everything's all crazy and you can't keep your hands off each other and you're both so-"

"Stop right there," the professor interrupted, his top lip curling up in fake disgust. "No one gives a shit about your love life, Jones. Do you know the answer or not?"

Ozzy narrowed his eyes and took in a deep breath, holding his stare for a moment before shaking his head. "No. No, I don't."

"I thought as much," the professor replied with a tut, before turning his attention to someone else. "Okay, you, the red blood cell sitting next to Jones… Trevor is it? Answer the question, and don't get it wrong."

Ozzy sank further into his seat as the student nervously answered the question, and he grabbed his phone from his desk to type out another quick message.

He saw the professor's eyes widen ever so slightly when his phone buzzed right next to his arm, and he quickly finished helping the student with the last question, before allowing himself to look down and read what Ozzy had sent to him.

'You're so mean :c'

He sighed and looked back up at the class with tired eyes. "Right, okay, good work everyone. Well, almost everyone. Please discuss your mistakes with the person next to you for a few minutes, and help each other understand how you could answer these questions better next time. Go."

And he hadn't even fully finished his sentence before his head was back down again, his claws furiously typing away at his scratched touchscreen.

'Mean?! I'm just doing my job! You, on the other hand, are behaving abhorrently.'

Before he even had a chance to lay his phone down, it was already buzzing again with another text.

'Well, you'll just have to punish me later, won't you, sir? 8===D'

The professor breathed out raggedly as he read it, trying to calm the thumping in his head and the throbbing between his legs. He wanted to be subtle about it, to not let Ozzy know how much this was affecting him, but he knew it was a wasted effort the second he looked up at him and saw his expression.

He was staring straight back at him, his eyes locked on his and his tongue peeking out past his lips to slowly lick a thick stripe up the side of his thumb, and the professor felt his knees go weak.

I'm going to literally kill him after this class is over.

He forced himself to look back down at his textbook, placing a hand on his forehead to obscure his vision, but he could still feel Ozzy's gaze, feel the way it lingered, burning through his body like a fever, and he lifted his book in front of his face to hide his blush, hoping that no one else had noticed Ozzy's obvious displays of affection towards him.

The next few minutes passed without incident, with Ozzy turning to the person next to him and actually doing what the professor had asked.

The bell tower in the courtyard rang out over the campus, signalling the second hour of the class, and the professor sighed with relief. Okay, half the class is done. Only one more hour left, and this torment can finally end.

He allowed a small smile to break out on his face and lifted his gaze back to Ozzy, only to see his eyes flutter open, locking onto his, a flicker of something dark and devious behind them.

Shit! He looks fucking demonic right now! What's he planning?!

"Okay, everybody!" the professor blurted out, rising to his feet and turning to face the chalkboard to hide his flustered expression. He drew a big circle on the board and wrote 'Mitosis' in the middle, with a few little arrows sticking out in a seemingly random manner. "We have an exam on Thursday morning, so I think it'd be a good idea for all of us to make a mind map like this."

He breathed out sharply, before slipping the bobble off his wrist and pulling his messy hair out of his face and into a bun. "You," he started, turning back around to the class and gesturing with his head towards the student sitting directly behind Ozzy. "The skin cell with the small white dog-thing on their lap. I know Jones is being incredibly irritating, but I'm gonna need ya to stop glaring at the back of his head for a sec and give me all the stages of mitosis."

The student answered him with no problems, and Ozzy crossed his arms over his chest and turned a frown back towards them, his eyes widening when he saw the way their dog was glaring at him too. Shit. Even the dogs hate me now. My reputation really has hit rock bottom.

He spun back around to face the front and sank further into his seat, just watching the professor as he wrote down all the stages of mitosis on the board. Ozzy cocked his head then, letting out a long, deep sigh as he noticed the way the professor's muscles tensed below that fucking shirt of his, how his jeans hugged his hips and thighs, emphasising every dip and curve.

He rolled his gaze up the line of his back and then over his arm, mapping out every freckle, crease and vein across his dark skin, and he felt a little shiver run up his spine when his eyes landed on his hand, big and strong and completely dwarfing the piece of chalk he was using.

Ozzy wanted those hands on him, rough and bruising or soft and gentle, it didn't matter. He'd take him literally any way at this point, and Ozzy took in a sharp breath as the professor turned back around to face the class again, their gazes getting stuck on each other almost immediately.

Ozzy could tell by the look in Thrax's eyes that he was just as eager to get him naked and on his back as Ozzy was to get him on top of him, and they continued to stare at each other for another tense moment, before the professor eventually broke the connection, crossing his sculpted arms across his chest and clearing his throat

"Okay, so these are the basics of mitosis, but the test will cover everything we have studied here together, so if there's anything you don't understand, now's your chance to ask."

There was a moment of silence, and the professor was about to turn around again to write something else on the board, when Ozzy suddenly shot his hand up in the air.

"Yes, Jones?" the professor asked, and Ozzy picked up his textbook, a small smirk pulling at one corner of his lips

"I don't understand this bit in the text, sir."

"Which bit?"

"This bit. It says something about cells and viruses. Like, relationships between different types of organisms."

The professor's frown deepened at that, and he looked back down at his textbook, darting his eyes over the page. "It doesn't mention that in here."

"Yeah it does, look."

"Where?"

"It's kinda in the middle of the page," Ozzy replied plainly, circling his finger over a large wall of text.

"Well, that's not vague at all," the professor said sarcastically through a sigh, looking back up at Ozzy with a tired expression. "If you can't tell me where it is, then I can't help y-," he started to say, but was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Ozzy scraping his chair back across the floor.

"Okay! I'll just come and show you where it is," Ozzy sang, sauntering over to his desk with a smile, his hips swaying with every step.

"Jones, get back in your seat, now."

"It'll only take a second, sir," he said cheerfully, now facing the professor with both palms leaning on his desk. "Look, it's right here in your book."

And the professor could only watch as Ozzy pulled out a post-it note from his back pocket and slammed it down on the centre of his textbook, pressing it onto his page with his fingers.

The professor's eyes shot down to the note, and he swallowed thickly as he read what Ozzy had written on it, taking in a shaky breath and gripping hard onto the edge of his desk. He wants me to… with my… oh, Jesus Christ.

"There, can you see it now, sir?" Ozzy whispered, his eyes all big and round and soft with a sort of strange corrupted innocence, looking up at the professor like he'd hung the moon and stars.

God himself couldn't have broken him like that look had, and Ozzy leaned in even further, close enough for the collar of his shirt to gape and expose his collarbone, close enough for the professor to be able to smell him.

He inhaled deeply and held his breath, keeping his scent inside his chest for a moment. He couldn't get enough of it, couldn't stop staring at his lips as he spoke, plump and slick and so, so inviting.

His hands were shaking from holding back, his jeans impossibly tight around him and the air painfully thick as he tried to take in another breath, and he had just about plucked up the courage to tell him to go back to his seat, when Ozzy suddenly leaned in further, their lips not much more than a hair's breadth away.

"Maybe you could teach me more about this later? Y'know, just me and you? Then you could… drill me… about it. How does that sound, sir?"

And before the professor could catch himself, he was leaning in too and slowly nodding his head, whispering a quiet, desperate, "yes".

"Good," Ozzy said with a smile, and he pulled his head back and went to turn around to go back to his desk, but he stopped himself, and spun back to face the professor. "Oh, one more thing, sir. I was also wonderin' if you could show me what this thing's for," he whispered, subtly pulling something out of his pocket so that only they could see.

The professor's eyes widened, his lips parting in a gasp. "My chain… When did you-"

"Shh, don't worry about that," Ozzy lulled, his lips curving up into the most gorgeous, heart-melting smile the professor had ever seen. "Now, I want you to slam your hand on the desk and send me back to my seat. Make it convincing, and I'll do whatever you say, sir."

And, of course, the professor did exactly as he was told, rocking the desk as he brought his fist down onto it and yelling at Ozzy to sit the fuck back down, giving the illusion of having a shred of control over the situation.

He watched Ozzy saunter over to his desk, turning a suggestive smile back to him over his shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes as he went, and the hour that followed was the longest of Professor Roja's entire life.


"Mister Jones? Could you come here for a moment? I'd like to have a word witcha."

A grin spread over Ozzy's face at that, and he hung his head for a moment while he waited for the last few students to leave the classroom, watching as the professor sauntered past him to shoo off a few stragglers hanging around by the door.

"Come on, nothing to see here, you four," the professor muttered, slamming the door shut in their faces and dropping the blinds over the window so they couldn't see in.

He spun around on his heels and arched an eyebrow at Ozzy, the heavy thump thump thump of his boots echoing with every step as he slowly walked over to him. "Baby? You wanna tell me what happened back there?"

"What?" Ozzy replied innocently, trying not to shy away from the darkness in Thrax's gaze as he approached him. His eyes were taking him apart piece by piece, clouded with an exciting mix of desire and anger, and Ozzy felt sparks skitter up his spine and settle at his core as he stilled just in front of him.

"What d'ya mean, 'what'?" the professor retorted, leaning down over him and placing his hands behind his back. "You know what."

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, sir," Ozzy replied, and he pushed past him and started walking over to the door, stopping when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the professor asked, slight confusion in his voice, and Ozzy quickly turned back around and grabbed onto his wrist.

"Get your hands off me!" he spat, scowling up at him and pushing his hand away, and the professor gasped softly, his expression falling into something much sadder as he pulled his hand back.

"Ozzy… what's going on? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Hell yeah you did something wrong, sir!" Ozzy yelled up at him, jabbing his finger in the middle of the professor's chest. "You humiliated me in front of the whole class, making me answer the most difficult question possible when you knew I didn't have a fucking clue. This is just like when you set that trick essay a few weeks back. Shame on you!"

The professor felt something snap in his chest then, and he breathed in deeply, raggedly, his head spinning at a million miles an hour as he tried to work out what the hell was going on, but then he saw the way Ozzy raised his eyebrows at him and nodded his head as if he was hinting at something, urging him to say something back, and suddenly, everything made sense.

Oh. OH.

The professor cleared his throat, allowing his expression to fall into something much more serious as he reached out a hand to grab onto Ozzy's wrist. "Don't you dare speak to me like that," he snapped, tightening his grip over Ozzy's wrist as he felt him try to pull his arm away. "Come with me."

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Ozzy hissed, forcing a frown to try and hide the big smile spreading across his face and digging his heels into the floor as the professor pulled on his arm to walk him over to his desk.

"Your behaviour in my class has become absolutely unacceptable, Jones," Thrax barked, dragging a still struggling Ozzy across the classroom by his wrist, and he swung him around and pushed him back towards his desk.

Ozzy's back collided with the edge, knocking several papers and pens onto the floor in the process, and he almost lost his footing, but the professor caught him with a strong hand around his waist.

Ozzy forced a scowl and pushed his arm away, but the professor fisted a hand tight in his hair, so tight it brought tears to his eyes, and he yanked his head back to force him to look up into his eyes, drawing a small gasp out from his lips.

"I reckon it's time someone taught you a lesson," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, and the purple blush across Ozzy's cheeks darkened adorably, his perfect brown eyes dilating with lust as he looked up at him expectantly.

But the professor stilled, staring down at him and taking in a deep breath to calm the thumping in his head. He wanted to lean in, to kiss Ozzy until his lips matched the colour of his cheeks, but he didn't know if he should, if he was allowed to.

He knew what was going on here between them, knew that Ozzy was role-playing as himself from a couple of weeks ago, and fuck was he good at it, getting every bitchy expression and cocky gesture just right.

The professor, however, had never been very good at pretending. Never very good at games either, and he loosened his grip on Ozzy's hair for a moment, not knowing how to continue from here, what to do, what to say.

Ozzy must have sensed his unease, because his hands were soon coming up and round to the back of the professor's head, fingers massaging his scalp and his expression softening to something much kinder. "Thrax, you're okay. It's still me, still us… Look," he whispered, pulling the professor down into a kiss, his lips warm and sweet against his.

His hands smoothed down his neck, fingertips whisper-soft over rough skin, and the professor sighed against his lips, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to Ozzy's.

"I-I don't wanna hurt you, baby."

"I know," Ozzy whispered back, teeth nipping at the professor's bottom lip and hands cupping his cheeks. "You won't."

"You don't know that… You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Exactly… I wanna learn. I wanna know you."

A smile broke out on the professor's face at that, his hand massaging the back of Ozzy's head. "You do know me, baby, better than anyone."

Ozzy shook his head and rolled up on his tiptoes to press another open kiss to his lips. "I wanna know more. I wanna know everything. I want you to stop holding back with me… to show me who you were before."

"Ozzy…" the professor breathed, his eyes wide and his hands shaking around his waist, and Ozzy simply kissed him again, parting his lips as he felt Thrax's tongue press against them.

They kissed for a moment, tongues hot and thick and slow in each other's mouths, and Ozzy's hands moved all over Thrax's arms, drinking in the thick muscles of his biceps and the flexing tendons in his shoulders beneath his shirt.

"I know how much you wanna let go, sir," he uttered between two wet kisses, sinking a hand into the professor's hair and tugging. "How long you've been holding back."

But the professor didn't reply, couldn't reply, his mind all too fuzzy from the lack of blood to his brain, and he hissed into Ozzy's mouth then as he felt him dig his fingers into his shoulders, squeezing so fucking hard he almost pierced his skin.

"Now, fuck me like I know you wanted to after that first ever class," Ozzy ordered as he moved back with his head, starting straight into the professor's eyes as he did, and before either of them knew what was happening, Thrax had spun Ozzy around and pushed him down over the desk.

His hand was cupping the back of his head, pushing his forehead against the wood of his desk, and he gasped, realising that he'd gone too far, that he'd lost control. He quickly withdrew his hand and took a step back, his eyes wide and his chest tight. "Ozzy! Are you okay? I'm so fucking sorry, I got so carried away and I didn't-"

"No," Ozzy interrupted, reaching a hand out behind him and grabbing onto the professor's jeans to pull him closer again. He pushed his hips back and against Thrax's crotch, grinding against him and smiling as he felt the outline of his cock between his legs, so hard and hot already. "You said you wanted to teach me a lesson. Now, teach."

He gave another slow roll of his hips against him and reached back with his hand again to run his fingers over the professor's tie. "I've been so fucking bad, sir. Interruptin' your classes, breakin' into your office, disrespectin' you over and over again in front of your students."

The professor gasped then as he felt Ozzy yank him down by his tie so they were pressed up against one another, catching himself with both hands on the desk on either side of Ozzy's shoulders.

"I deserve this, you know I do," Ozzy uttered, turning his head to look back at the professor over his shoulder. "Don't you wanna punish me for everything I did to you at the start of the semester, sir? Don't you wanna see how good this looks on me?"

And the professor's eyes widened as he saw Ozzy bring his hand back around to the front, waving his chain around in the air.

"You want me to… tie you?" the professor asked cautiously, swallowing the saliva pooling on his tongue, and Ozzy tutted and rolled his eyes.

"I want you to do whatever you wanna do," he replied plainly, giving another deep roll of his hips against him. "I want you to do whatever you woulda wanted to do to me after that very first class, when I was all mouthy 'n bitchy 'n annoying."

He smiled then as the professor took the chain from him, gasping when he felt him yank his hands behind his back, gathering his wrists together in one big hand and knotting them together.

There was a moment of silence as the professor leaned back and let his gaze roll over Ozzy's body, the sight of him like this making his cock ache. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, while his hand subconsciously pushed Ozzy's T-shirt up further over his back. Damn. He's fucking right. The chain does look good on him.

Ozzy felt a hand brace over his back, holding him down, and he gasped when his shorts were suddenly tugged down over his hips. He felt the outline of the professor's cock grind hard between his legs again, clumsy and hard through his coarse jeans, and he let out a low moan, his hands tensing around nothing in their binds.

"Shh, shhh," the professor soothed, taking the bottle of lube out of Ozzy's shorts' pocket and squeezing some onto his hand to warm it up between his claws. "You know I love it when you're loud, baby, but just for today, you gotta be quiet for me. Promise?"

Ozzy turned his head to the side to press his cheek against the cold wood of the desk and nodded, whispering a short, "okay, I promise," but fuck, he knew that wasn't going to be an easy promise to keep when he could feel the professor lean over him again, pressing his broad chest to his back, their bodies fitting so perfectly together.

The desk creaked beneath their weight, and Ozzy wriggled his fingers a bit, trying to tug on the professor's shirt to get him to take it off, but he then felt him press more of his weight against him, forcing his hands to admit defeat and relax again.

The professor's chest was burning hot against Ozzy's back, even through his shirt, and Ozzy sighed as he felt the familiar press of the professor's hand between his legs, slick and warm and gentle.

His tongue was on his neck now, licking up towards his jaw so he could nip that sensitive little spot with his teeth in one breath and then leave a soft kiss there the next.

And then, Ozzy's mouth suddenly fell open in a quiet moan, his arms stretched out behind him and his spine curling as he pushed his hips back against the professor's claw now sliding inside him.

Fuck, he thought, breathing out and forcing his body to relax again, both of them knowing full well that no matter how many times they did this, Ozzy would never, ever get over how good that felt.

Fingers threaded through his already tousled hair and pulled, ripping an embarrassingly loud noise out of his throat, and the professor dropped a couple of kisses on his cheek, pressing his finger further into his soft heat.

"Shh, shhh. Quiet. I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good, but you've gotta be quiet."

And he could feel what that did to Ozzy's heartbeat, the way it stuttered for a moment before smoothing back out again, and Ozzy nodded, breathing in and out with every stroke of the professor's fingers, inhaling through the pressure and exhaling when it released.

He wished he could see Thrax right now - see every delicious expression that crossed his face as he looked down at him, the way the muscles in his arm would be tensing under firm skin as he slowly drew his claws in and out - but for now he'd just have to imagine it, closing his eyes and picturing the press of his elegant fingers inside of him, stretching him open in the most achingly beautiful way.

Ozzy started rolling into the rhythm of his hand, forcing him deeper into himself, and the professor watched him, stilling his hand to let Ozzy find his own pleasure. His other hand slipped down his own stomach and undid the button on his jeans, and he pulled himself out of his pants and wrapped his claws around his cock, his gaze raking down Ozzy's body as he started to stroke himself over the sight of him like this.

Another claw was soon added, and Ozzy hunched forwards and away, but Thrax held him down. He brushed over his prostate over and over again, his name sounding strangled in Ozzy's mouth, but he didn't stop, fingers buried deep to the knuckle as they stroked around that soft little spot over and over again.

He knew that Ozzy wanted him to be rougher with him, that he wanted him to dig his claws into his hair and tug, or rip his fingers out right now and slam his cock into him over and over until he cried, but he just couldn't do it.

No, he didn't want to do it.

If he was being honest with himself, this right here, their loving touches and soft moans and warm bodies rolling slowly against each other, this was what he'd wanted all along.

Ozzy had told him to 'stop holding back', to 'let go', but the truth was, he already had. He'd never been as honest with someone else as he had been with Ozzy, never allowed himself to feel like this, never allowed himself to love like this, and equally, he'd never been happier.

He didn't want to pretend to be something he wasn't anymore. He was done hiding what he wanted, done pushing down his own desires and emotions to make other people happy, and just as he was about to open his mouth and say something, Ozzy stilled, turning his gaze over his shoulder to look up at him with those gorgeous eyes of his.

"Is this too weird? Do you wanna stop?"

The professor's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "N-no, it's not weird," he whispered, fingers relaxing inside Ozzy. "I just… I don't want you to think I've been holding anything back. Everything we've done together, that was all real, that was me. I wasn't… I don't want you to think I'm not myself with you."

Ozzy frowned at that, his head shaking from side to side. "But… that's not what I meant before. I didn't mean that you're not being yourself, or that I wanted you to change."

"Oh… what did you mean, then?"

Ozzy narrowed his eyes and allowed his body to sink back down on the desk as he thought about how to phrase his answer. "Uhm… I dunno how to say it exactly… it's like, I don't want you to feel like you have to keep things from me. I want you to know that there's nothing you can't say or do around me. I love you, all of you, and if there was anything you were holding back, well, I just wanted you to know that you don't have to anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them then, and the professor took in a heavy breath, fingers subconsciously rubbing over Ozzy's velvety walls. "I can't believe I found you," he whispered with a sigh, a smile spreading across his face as he leaned back down over him and pressed his lips to his ear. "I'm so fucking lucky."

He pressed his fingers in deeper and pushed upwards to slowly rub against that little bundle of nerves again, and Ozzy gasped, his eyes falling shut and his toes curling in his converse.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Thrax whispered into his ear, and he pulled back for a moment to watch the way Ozzy's body stretched around his claws as he added a third. "You take me so well. So perfect for me."

He continued his waves of praise, tangling a hand in Ozzy's curls and tugging. "My good boy… my everything… my precious thing… never wanna leave you."

Ozzy was an absolute mess by this point, his cock dripping into the space between his stomach and the desk, a constant stream of unintelligible words and quiet moans falling from his lips after every slow drag of the claws inside him, driving the professor fucking insane.

"You ready?" Thrax asked suddenly, not sure he would be able to keep himself from coming just from the sight of Ozzy like this.

"For you… always," Ozzy replied breathily, and the professor leaned back over him as he slowly pulled his fingers out, making a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat to soothe him through it.

Hands grasped firmly at Ozzy's hips, thumbs spreading him open, skin dragging against skin in the most delicious way, and then, he felt him push his cock inside of him. It was tight, hot, overwhelming, and Ozzy grit his teeth around a scream and shuddered on the desk.

"Shit," the professor hissed, burying his face into the crook of Ozzy's neck and inhaling his scent as his hips stilled. "You're still so fucking tight."

"Yeah, well, I've never… I've never done this before, sir," Ozzy replied with a laugh, and the professor laughed too, nipping at his jaw before pulling back to readjust a bit.

Ozzy opened his mouth to say something else, but his voice fell into a loud gasp as he felt the professor slide in further, a beautiful swelling ache blossoming in his belly - the sensation of it sitting in his hips, his thighs - and his back arched, his legs spreading wider of their own accord, like his entire body was making room for Thrax, welcoming him in.

The professor set a soft pace at first, dragging himself out of Ozzy with every shaky breath before sinking back down to the base. Dimples in Ozzy's lower back deepened as he strained to meet him, and it was so fucking gorgeous for the professor to be able to watch the way his cock slowly sank inside him, how his soft ass pushed back against his stomach every single time.

He slid into him again, slow and steady and deep, and with the way Ozzy's head rolled back and his walls clenched around him, Thrax knew that he'd found the right spot.

"There," Ozzy breathed, hips pushing back further and bound hands scrambling to grasp at nothing. "Fuck, yes, right there."

He felt the professor sink his claws into his hips then, squeezing and pulling on them as if to hold him against him, and he heard another frustrated groan leave his lips as he somehow slipped up inside him further.

Claws were in his hair, fisting tight and tugging sharp, and neither of them knew that Ozzy was capable of making the noise that left his chest then.

It was rough and loud and groaning, the dirtiest way anyone could possibly say the word 'sir', and there was something about the way it sounded as it was ripped out of his throat and past those gorgeous lips of his that sent a pulse of pure fucking desire through Thrax's whole body.

Maybe this role-playing thing wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

He shut his eyes and gripped tightly onto Ozzy's hair and hips, pushing and pulling at the back of his head with his hand, claws digging into skin as he let himself get lost in his own senses.

He felt the body against him roll with pleasure, the way it clenched around him, grinding back a little, hips bucking and straining upwards, frantic to get away and get closer at the same time.

He groaned loudly and leaned forwards to lick a long strip up Ozzy's neck, before biting down on his skin and sinking his teeth in, the wooden desk beneath them scraping forward against the floor after every harsh thrust.

Ozzy moved his hips again, undulating deeply against him, the motion so beautifully obscene, and the professor grunted in his ear, nuzzling his jaw and piling back in hot inch by inch.

"Shit… Osmosis… yes," he groaned, hips never faltering or slowing in their rhythm. His large hands settled on Ozzy's hips again, claws gripping tight to pull at the flesh and guide him down over his thick cock over and over again, anchoring them both to each other.

Their bodies were trembling with pleasure, limbs melted into the motions and breathing heavy and ragged, and Ozzy gasped as the professor drew his cock out of him for a second, his eyes rolling into his head and a loud whimper tearing out of his chest when he slammed all the way back in.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop, oh fuck," Ozzy rasped, his voice hoarse and his hands clawing at the air behind his back, but suddenly, they heard a loud knock on the door, and the professor quickly wrapped a large hand around Ozzy's mouth and stilled his hips.

"Shhh, quiet," he whispered, sinking his other hand into Ozzy's hair to smooth his fingers through his curls and try to calm him down after feeling the way he was starting to tense up around him. "Baby, listen to me. Everything's good. The door's locked, no one's coming in here," he added, before spinning his head around to face the door with a frown.

"Yes? What d'ya want?" he called out, his breathing heavy but his tone calm, as if everything was totally normal right now and he wasn't fucking one of his first year students on his desk.

They heard a muffled response from the other side of the door, something about needing to set up the classroom for the next lecture in an hour, and the professor rolled his eyes, his claws caressing the back of Ozzy's head.

"Yeah yeah, gimme twenty minutes, will ya? I'm just finishing a few things off in here," he uttered, giving a deep thrust with his hips, and Ozzy groaned into his hand, his eyes falling shut.

"Actually, make that thirty minutes," Thrax corrected, thrusting hard into Ozzy again and smiling at the soft little whine that vibrated against his palm.

He waited a few moments for the other teacher to leave, before untangling his claws from Ozzy's hair and leaning down over him, curving his body over his and pressing his face to his plump cheek. "They're gone." A kiss. "It's all fine. We're safe."

Ozzy exhaled and nodded, shutting his eyes again as the professor continued to rain wet kisses over his cheek, lingering and loving. He could feel the powerful thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat against his back, could hear his low whispers in his ear as he started rocking his hips into him again, his face sinking into Ozzy's hair as a blurred and breathy mix of, "Osmosis… yes… yes…" fell from his lips and feathered over his skin.

The professor continued to slowly rock back and forth, stretching out the sensation for them both, stroking and soothing Ozzy's skin until his breathing had evened out again. "We're safe… it's just you and me… just you and me."

Only once he'd felt Ozzy's body relax underneath him did he start to pick up the pace again, pulling soft moans from his lips with every grind of his hips.

"Sir… please… harder," Ozzy begged, the coil of heat in his belly winding impossibly tighter, and he threw his head back in a loud gasp when he felt him grip onto his wrists and slam his hips forwards in a bruising thrust.

It hurt so fucking good, his stomach and thighs and chest pressed hard against the wooden desk, and he arched his back towards him with a broken sob, hips pushing up to open himself further.

"You should… always be inside of me… like this," he whispered between heavy breaths, eyelids fluttering and legs quivering. "Never… want you to leave… never want you… to stop."

And the professor wanted to reply, wanted to say something equally, devastatingly beautiful, but all he could do was grunt in response, hips churning and eyes rolling shut.

His hand clamped over Ozzy's mouth again after he accidentally let out another loud moan of his name, and he fucked him harder, feeling the wetness of Ozzy's tears and saliva on his palm.

The slaps of skin on skin resonated in the quiet room, interspersed with the sound of the desk scraping across the floor, of the professor's heavy grunts and Ozzy's muffled whines.

It came as a surprise to both of them when Ozzy finished first, white ropes spreading thick and warm between him and the desk, and the professor buried his face into his hair, huffing his scent and blindly rocking into his throbbing heat to eke out Ozzy's pleasure for a little bit longer.

He felt his body relax underneath him then, and he pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, pulling out of him and breathing a question into his skin. "Baby… can I… cum on you?"

Ozzy turned his head to look up at him, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyelids heavy. "God… please," he breathed, slipping off the desk and sinking to his shaking knees. He groaned as he turned around to look up at the professor, and he opened his mouth for him and stuck out his tongue, the colour of his lips now matching his blush.

And Thrax had never felt more grateful to anything than he did right now to the chair behind him, collapsing back into it with a sigh and spreading his legs open for Ozzy to kneel between them.

It wouldn't take him long to finish, not like this, not with Ozzy looking so fucking pretty and submissive, plush thighs spread wide open and hands still tied behind his back, gazing up at him like he had done on that day he'd crawled under his desk to hand him the piece of tinfoil.

The professor tightened his fist around himself and stroked down, his thighs shaking and his heels digging into the floor, and Ozzy moved closer, his hot breath feathering over the head of his cock.

The sight of Ozzy like this was everything the professor had ever dreamed of - his brown eyes under heavy lids, cheeks flushed, mouth open and waiting for him - and his vision started to haze over, seeing two versions of Ozzy flash before him at the same time, both the old and the new blending together into one person: his person.

His hand moved over himself in a way that made his back arch, pleasure sparking at the edges of every nerve, and his mouth fell open in a moan, a haze of absolute fucking bliss spreading over his features.

"Shit," he hissed, inhaling sharply through his teeth and groaning low in his throat, a sound that Ozzy already knew meant that he was close, so he rolled his eyes shut and opened his mouth wider, letting one of the professor's absolute favourite noises pass his lips as he did.

The fantasy got blurrier as pleasure surged through Thrax's body, his limbs taut and his mind blanking, and he rolled his eyes shut, moaning on an exhale.

There was a jumble of words on his tongue, a confusing mix of 'Osmosis… Ozzy… baby,' and his whole body went rigid, a long, wet, rattling gasp ripping out of his chest as he came, the sound of Ozzy's name catching in his throat as the white hot bliss washed over him.

He sagged into his chair, catching his breath for a second or two, before daring to open his eyes, and fuck, he'd never, ever get over this.

He rolled his gaze over Ozzy, from his silky thighs to his soft belly, and from his white shirt stretched tight over his chest up to his pretty face, and that's where his eyes got stuck in the end, the professor taking in a deep breath and wondering how the fuck he'd managed to get so lucky.

The light dripping through the window pane cascaded over them both, illuminating Ozzy like a fucking diamond, the professor's orange cum on his gorgeous blue skin reminding him of paintings he'd seen where the rays from a sunset dip onto and around the waves of an ocean.

I'll never be over this, never be over you, he thought, raking his fingers through Ozzy's hair and leaning down to kiss him. He licked into his mouth with slow, languid swipes, spilling his tongue onto Ozzy's and feeling the warmth of his own cum on his cheek as he kissed Ozzy deeper.

"God, I taste nasty," he uttered, pulling away with a grimace and making Ozzy laugh.

"Yeah, but I like it," he replied, and the professor could only watch as Ozzy licked his cheek clean and swallowed with a loud gulp.

"Fuck," the professor whispered, collapsing back into his chair. "You're gonna be the death of me someday, I just know it."


Ten minutes and a whole pack of disposable wipes later, Ozzy was sitting in the professor's lap, pulling the chain through his fingers and humming the tune of one of his favourite songs under his breath.

"Can I keep this?" he asked innocently, flicking his eyes up to meet the professor's and sticking out his bottom lip. "It's so pretty, and it'll remind me of you when we're apart."

The professor furrowed his brow and took a deep breath as he thought about it, before shaking his head. "No, Oz. I'd love to give it to you, really I would, but I can't."

"Awh, why not?"

"Well, for one, I'm not supposed to have it in the first place," the professor replied, smoothing his claws through Ozzy's curls. "Also, if anyone saw you with it and recognised what it was, it would be traced back to me, and then that would get people thinking about us, and then... it's just too risky, baby. Sorry."

"Mmng," Ozzy grumbled, clearly a bit annoyed. "Fine, I guess you're right. What actually is it, though? Something from your life before you came to Frank?"

The professor nodded. "Yep, and I was meant to hand it in when I came here, but... well, let's just say that organisation isn't exactly the FPD's forte. They didn't even notice that I'd swiped it from evidence before I left the precinct."

Ozzy's eyes opened wide at that, his interest now piqued. "So it's a weapon, then?"

"Hmm... no, more like a keepsake."

"Oh, like when killers take something from their victim as a trophy. Kinda like that?"

The professor flinched slightly at that, before he averted his eyes and gave a small nod. "In a way... yeah."

There was a heavy silence between them then, neither one of them knowing exactly what to say, until the professor turned back to face Ozzy and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Look, Oz. I'll tell you more about my past another day. I don't want you to think I'm hiding anything from you, but I'd just prefer to talk about this when we have more time to do it properly... okay?"

Ozzy clutched the chain tightly in his hand for a moment, before leaving it on the desk and nodding. "Yeah, okay. How long do we have left here?"

"About ten minutes, give or take," the professor replied, nuzzling his face into Ozzy's hair and rolling his eyes shut. "We can take the back door to get out of here. No one uses it, and it'll take you straight to the entrance of the biology block. If we go out separately, I don't think anyone'll think anything of it."

Ozzy frowned and breathed out a heavy sigh. "Do we have to? I mean, I know we do, but do we really?"

"Yes, baby. I have a class in thirty minutes. I can't miss it. And don't you have a class too?"

"Yeah, but not until, like, 4pm. What the fuck am I gonna do until then?"

"I dunno, but I'd start with a shower, if I were you," the professor said, earning a slap on the shoulder.

"Nah, y'know what the first thing I need to do is? Try and find a way to get your nasty cum stains off my shirt," Ozzy replied with a grin. "This was brand new and you ruined it, again!"

The professor huffed out a laugh and squeezed Ozzy tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "It ain't ruined, you just gotta wash it."

"Yeah right. I once stuck a cheese puff to my mum's white shirt when I was a kid, and I'm tellin' ya, that orange stain never came out. She was furious."

"Awh, I bet you were so cute as a kid. All big eyes and fat cheeks and mischief. D'ya have any photos?"

Ozzy shook his head. "Nah, I didn't bring any with me when my parents left me with my uncle. I hardly have anything from my life with them, actually."

"Why not?"

"Well, I didn't really get the chance to bring anything. They told me one night that I was gonna have a sleepover with my cousin, and I was all excited because my aunt made the best cheesy pasta dish ever, so I brought my favourite alien jammies and a few toys… but my mom and dad never ended up coming back the next day, or the day after, and the next thing I knew my uncle was signing some papers to become my legal guardian… and that's it I guess. I never saw them again after that."

"Oh, Ozzy," the professor whispered, breath feathering the top of Ozzy's head. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I have you now. And Drips, too. Oh, now that I think about it, he might have some photos of me as a kid! I'll have to ask him later."

The professor nodded, and they both fell silent for a few moments, bodies sinking into each other as the menacing tick, tock of the clock continued to push its way around the room.

After a little while, Ozzy leaned up and planted a kiss on the professor's cheek. "You called me 'Osmosis' before."

The professor frowned and looked down at him. "Did I?"

"Yeah, a couple of times. You never call me that. Why didja say it?"

The professor blushed. "Oh, uhm, I used to call you that before we were together. I guess it musta slipped out."

"No, you always called me 'Jones'."

"Yeah, to your face," he replied, slight embarrassment lacing his voice, and Ozzy's lips curved up into a smirk.

"Ohhhh, right. I see."

"Sorry. I know you don't like that name very much."

"Nah, it's hot when you say it. The way you hold onto the 's', the rumble in your throat on the 'o'..." He shuddered and buried his face into the crook of his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks, and the professor smiled softly.

"Why don't you like your name though? I always thought it was nice."

"Mhnm," Ozzy grumbled, fisting the front of the professor's shirt. "Just more shit with my parents. My mom would only use it when she was disappointed in me, and my dad when he was mad at me. I dunno, it always reminded me of being told off… also all the kids at school used to bully me for it."

"Awh, baby…" Thrax whispered, nuzzling his cheek against Ozzy's. "Sorry, I don't mean to keep making you think of your parents. I'll stop asking questions now. Let's just enjoy our last five minutes together, yeah?"

Ozzy nodded against him and sighed, bringing a hand up to sink it into the professor's hair. "You know, I don't feel nearly as bad as I thought I would about this."

"About what?"

"About having to say goodbye to you."

"Oh… really?"

"Yeah, I mean, of course I'm sad, but it's like… like I know it's gonna be okay, and that we're gonna see each other again soon."

"Yeah," the professor whispered back, pressing a kiss to Ozzy's cheek. "We'll be apart, but it won't be forever. We'll see each other on Wednesday at 6pm in my office, right? And then there's Thursday's class, and then…" His voice trailed off, and he sighed, shutting his eyes and holding Ozzy tightly to himself for a moment.

"You okay, Thrax?" Ozzy asked, stroking over one of his cheek bones and pressing a kiss to his chest.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I'm gonna make sure of it."

"Hm? What d'ya mean?"

"Things are gonna get easier, Ozzy, I promise. I'm gonna start getting more serious with NAV and make sure that things change."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ozzy asked, looking up at him with big round eyes, and the professor smiled down at him and stroked the back of his head.

"You don't have to do a single thing, Ozzy. I'm gonna take care of everything for us, you'll see. One day, it'll all be okay. One day, we can finally be together in the way that we want. You have my word."


Ozzy pushed on the door to the entrance of his dorm block and trudged inside, his legs aching with every heavy step he took as he made his way up the flights of stairs. He had just finished his criminology class, his first proper contact with the outside world since dragging Professor Roja into his office on Saturday night, and Ozzy couldn't help but think about how weird everything was.

Even though only a few days had passed since he had set off on that trip, it felt like a lifetime to him. He didn't know how to describe it properly, but it was almost like his reality had split in two, like the world he previously knew had shattered and reformed itself into an entirely new shape.

He had felt genuinely uncomfortable being around people who weren't the professor, and although he knew that that probably wasn't healthy at all, it was more obvious to him now than ever that he'd never really fitted into this society.

He knew what real love looked like now, what it felt like, and he came to a stop as he reached his dorm room door, feeling something sad tug at his heart at the thought of having to spend the night alone.

He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake himself out of it and convince himself that everything was going to be okay, before shoving his hand into his pocket to look for his key.

He fumbled his keys between his tired fingers for a second as he tried to find the right one, before slotting it into the keyhole and opening the door. He took a deep breath - one, two, three, four, five - and exhaled as he stepped inside his dorm room.

The room was dark, save for the light coming from Drix's laptop screen on his bed, illuminating his face in a soft blue glow, and Ozzy smiled as he heard the familiar sound of Drix's classical music drifting out of his headphones.

He shut the door quietly and let his gaze pan across the room for the moment. Everything was exactly how he'd left it - his duvet dragging across the floor, his dirty clothes piled up in the corner, his mismatched posters still stuck higgledy-piggledy to the wall - but equally it felt like something had changed, as if everything had shifted slightly, like all the colours were somewhat brighter than before, or the walls were much closer together than he had remembered.

He dropped his rucksack on the floor by the door and tiptoed over to Drix's bed, before throwing himself on top and almost knocking his laptop onto the floor.

Drix yelled out and flinched away, spinning his head around and ripping his headphones off. "For Frank's sake, Ozzy!"

"Dripsy-kins!" Ozzy sang, scooting to his side and leaning his head on his shoulder. "How're ya doin'?"

"I was fine before you almost just gave me a heart attack! You can't just jump out on me in the dark like that!"

"Aw, but I love seein' how your eyes get all big and cute when you're scared," Ozzy cooed, looping both arms around Drix's cannon. "Whatcha doin'?"

Drix tutted at how quickly Ozzy had managed to change the conversation, but he took hold of his laptop and turned it so that he could see the screen better. "I'm just reading over one of my biology essays. It's about the importance of the hypothalamus, and yesterday I added some new information that I had learned on the trip."

"Oh, right. It looks real professional," Ozzy said quietly, his eyes darting over all the graphs and figures.

"Thanks, I hope so. Professor Roja said it's good enough to maybe get published, so I just want to make absolutely sure that it's perfect before I send him the final draft."

Ozzy smiled at that, before turning his head and nuzzling his face against Drix's shoulder. "It'll be amazing, I just know it. You're like the smartest person ever."

Drix smiled too, sinking his weight into the bedsheets below and sighing as he felt Ozzy relax further against him. "I'm just gonna read through this one chapter, and I was thinking then we could maybe watch a film together. Do you fancy that?"

Ozzy nodded against him and shut his eyes. "Yeah, sounds good. You can pick the movie, just as long as it doesn't have that Colon Firth guy in it."

"Awh," whined Drix, lightly nudging Ozzy's head with his shoulder. "But I just ordered 'Pride and Pancreas' from the video shop!"

Ozzy scrunched up his face and shook his head frantically, and Drix sighed, trying to think of another film they'd both enjoy.

"Okay, how about 'Bridget Jones's Dairy Intolerance'? You liked that one the last time we watched it, remember?"

"Pfft… well if it's a choice between those two, then yeah, fine. At least Bridget Jones has a fight scene in it."


"See! You just laughed! I told you that you liked this film!" Drix exclaimed, nudging Ozzy with his shoulder and smirking down at him.

Ozzy groaned and rolled his eyes, pressing his cheek to Drix's shoulder again and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "Oh, shut up, will ya? And yeah, it's better than I'd remembered. More relatable now that we're older."

Drix scoffed at that, muttering under his breath, "which bits can you relate to? The alcoholism? Or going after men you shouldn't?"

"Huh? What?" Ozzy said, his mouth full of popcorn as he peered up at Drix with a frown.

"Nothing. I was just talking to myself. Pass the popcorn, please."

A few more minutes passed by, with Ozzy noisily munching away and Drix singing along to 'It's Raining Men', when he suddenly turned to Ozzy and nudged him again.

"So, uh, I missed you this weekend. It felt odd without you here."

Ozzy furrowed his brow and swallowed the popcorn in his mouth, before turning to look up at Drix. "Yeah, I missed you too."

"Where were you? I know you said you were with a friend… but where?" Drix asked, feeling the way Ozzy's body shifted against him at that question.

"I was just… out. Like, one night I crashed with a friend… the next night I met a girl and stayed with her, y'know, just out."

"Right," Drix said quietly through a sigh. "You know, Ozzy… I-I just want you to know that if you ever have a problem, or anything you want to talk about, you can come to me. I know I can be a bit quick to criticise sometimes, but I promise I won't judge you."

Ozzy was silent for a moment, before he nodded his head, grabbing onto Drix's cannon to place it around himself. "I know."

"I trust you, Ozzy. I trust your judgement."

"I trust you, too."

"Mhm," Drix replied, pulling Ozzy closer to himself. Obviously not enough.

They both sat in silence for a bit after that, just watching the film and replaying the previous conversation over and over in their heads, when Ozzy suddenly reached over Drix and grabbed onto his hand.

"Can you… put your arm around me? Both arms?"

Drix blinked at him for a second. "You want me to hug you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Ozzy rolled his eyes and scooted away from him to lean back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, don't, then. We used to do it all the time as kids and I just thought it'd be cute to do it ag-" he started saying, but his sentence got cut off towards the end as he felt Drix lift him up by the waist and sit him down on his lap.

He looped his big arms around Ozzy's shoulders and leaned down to leave a small kiss on the back of his head, a much more intimate gesture than Ozzy had intended, but a welcome one all the same.

"Like this?"

Ozzy smiled and shut his eyes, relaxing back against Drix's stomach and sighing deep. "Yeah. Just like this."