(no subject)

[extendedmetaphor]

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.

Comments

[thesubjunctive]

Scripps had said (on multiple occasions) that Dakin's level of infatuation with Irwin verged on the frightening. But Dakin didn't see it that way. After all, Irwin fucked Burgess and he fucked other people too. And everyone was fine with that. And if Dakin just happened to have Irwin's schedule memorized, what of it? It didn't mean anything.

Like now. He was leaning against the frame of the door, watching Irwin silently for a moment, suddenly fascinated by the bend of his neck as he bent over his work. "Busy night, sir?"

[extendedmetaphor]

It was ridiculous, given what they were to each other on the island, but Irwin still felt a frisson when Dakin called him 'Sir'. He lifted his head, smiling, one eyebrow raised.

"Tedious night," he said, gesturing at the pile of essays. "Your timing is impeccable."

[thesubjunctive]

"That's a shame. Dull?"

Dakin came into the room proper, but remained leaning. This time against the wall opposite Irwin's desk. He settled his arms in front of his chest, comfortable as he watched. "Is mine in there?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"Some of them," he said, settling back in his chair and letting his eyes drift down Dakin's body. "I put yours at the bottom. I'm working up to it."

[thesubjunctive]

"Saving the best for last?" He smiled, adjusting his posture slightly, fully aware of being looked at and enjoying it.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Maybe," he said, unwilling to give too much away, knowing that Dakin would hate it. "Though I'd welcome a distraction."

[thesubjunctive]

"Yeah?" Somehow, without really moving from the walk, Dakin managed to give the impression of leaning in. "What sort of a distraction, then?"

[extendedmetaphor]

"You're a clever boy," he said, arching his eyebrows. He was willing to give Dakin that much, at least. "I'm sure you could figure something out."

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin liked that eyebrow raise. It signaled good things to come which was, naturally, why he had visited. "I could think of a few things," he said, glancing around the room.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Show some initiative then," he said, pushing his chair back from the desk, folding his arms across his own chest and waiting.

[thesubjunctive]

"In your own office?" Dakin's expression turned towards a look of mock shock at the very idea. He liked playing that card. He'd had it from reliable sources that fake affront was something of a good look for him. "Sir, people might talk."

But the possibility didn't keep him from wandering closer to lean against the desk.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Better than in someone else's," he said, leaning back in the chair to look up at Dakin, knees falling apart. "Come here?"

He doesn't give a fuck what people say.

[thesubjunctive]

"I bet you wouldn't." Dakin smiled, moving quickly from shock to being once more at ease and (he liked to think) in control. He came round to the other side of the desk, staying just out of reach. "I bet you wouldn't do it in someone else's room."

[extendedmetaphor]

"There are some things you know nothing about, Dakin," he says, not touching, though it's tempting. He keeps his hands out of the way for now. "You have no idea what I'd do."

[thesubjunctive]

"Why don't you show me, then?" Dakin moved just the slightest bit closer, fine tuning his slouch to be just enticing enough. "After all, you're the teacher..."

[extendedmetaphor]

That was enough to make him reach out, his fingers hooking over Dakin's belt and pulling him in by it.

"I did say to come here."

[thesubjunctive]

"And I did, didn't I?" Dakin answered, letting himself be pulled closer without protest. He liked the look on Irwin's face as he moved, as he finally made up his mind to do something.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Part of the way you did," he says, still tugging, aiming to get Dakin into his lap altogether. He leans back, eyebrow raised. "Still room to improve."

[thesubjunctive]

The last tug was sufficient to get Dakin in his lap, though he didn't look entirely as pleased as he had been even as he covered it up with a raised eyebrow of his own. The remark about improvement had seen to that. Dakin still didn't take well to criticism. "How?"

[extendedmetaphor]

With Dakin settled in his lap, Irwin's hands shifted, sliding down to squeeze his arse, tugging him in more neatly.

"This is a good start."

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin shifted himself a bit until he was comfortable, leaning in closer til they were nearly chest to chest. He hooked a finger between the top two buttons of Irwin's shirt and smiled. "But it's still only a start."

[extendedmetaphor]

Irwin drew in a careful breath, squeezing his arse again, deliberately, leaning up to press a kiss against Dakin's chin.

"We can both do better."

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin made a satisfied noise of agreement in the back of his throat and moved rather suddenly to kiss Irwin properly. It was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic, especially considering the fact that they were both in one chair, but he wasn't really the sort to give much thought to the logistics of a thing.

[extendedmetaphor]

The speed that he moved at was enough to rock the chair a little in place. Irwin leaned forward, catching his mouth, leaning up into the kiss properly. His thumb hooked over the back of Dakin's jeans, pressing lightly into his skin.

[thesubjunctive]

Dakin kept the kissing going at that same intensity for a while longer, then abruptly pulled back from it. "And that?" He smiled at Irwin, licking his lips and looking pleased with himself. "Is there still room to improve?"