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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"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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"You too."
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He pulled back slightly, free hand skimming against Dakin's side, the other shoved down the back of his trousers.
"What's your rush?"
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"I'm just not in any hurry to be finished."
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All the time he was speaking, his eyes were fixed on the movement of Dakin's hand.
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"And what kind of instructions do you think you'd like?"
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