Tom Irwin (
extendedmetaphor) wrote2013-02-25 11:20 pm
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Some things never changed - he was still a teacher, still buried in history, and he still felt like he was drowning in marking. He sighs, reaching for the drink that's at his elbow as he finishes one essay and starts another. It looks like he's on the verge of a long night if he wants to get all of this done.
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But the possibility didn't keep him from wandering closer to lean against the desk.
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He doesn't give a fuck what people say.
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"I did say to come here."
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"This is a good start."
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"We can both do better."
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"Not there, certainly," he said. The boy was many things and, among them, he was a fucking amazing kisser.
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