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Hitoshi knows he should be paying attention to Nemuri’s lecture. He’s already behind on this class and he’s going to have to study extra hard to pass his next exam, but he can’t seem to stop glancing up at the clock above her chalkboard.
It’s nearly seven – exactly three minutes ‘til by the clock on the wall and he’s counting down the seconds until he can find Shouta. The man’s office hours window is small, he’ll only have the door unlocked for another eighteen minutes, but it’s long enough for Hitoshi to race up the three flights of stairs.
He chews on the end of his pencil as time drags on and the lecture goes late. His foot is incessantly tapping, hoping that she’ll wrap up soon. If he doesn’t make it tonight, he’ll have to wait until next Friday and if that happens, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. He’s not sure he won’t lose his nerve between here and Shouta’s office, but he doesn’t dwell on that thought.
When Nemuri finally dismisses them, Hitoshi only has four minutes to spare. He races up the steps and down the long corridor, slipping inside Shouta’s door with one minute to spare. He’s panting and breathless, and staring down the barrel of unimpressed, tired-looking eyes while he discreetly locks the door.
Shouta sighs softly, resigned to stay longer than he’d like. He was packing his briefcase, but instead he turns around and leans against his desk. “Is there something you needed, Hitoshi? Or are you just going to stand there and catch your breath?”
For any other student, he might have started packing up his bag and made them follow him across campus while he walked to his car to get their question answered, but Hitoshi has shown real promise and a passion for the subject matter that Shouta doesn’t see often in his students. He’d tell himself that the fact that his student is tall and gorgeous has absolutely nothing to do with that assessment, but he’d be lying to himself.
Instead of answering him, Hitoshi steps forward, closing the bulk of the distance between them, leaving only a small respectable space between them. He drops his gaze demurely, staring at his hands and questioning whether or not actually he has the gumption to go through with this. “I have a problem.”
Shouta’s seen many students come and go and yet, he can’t help but wonder what kind of predicament Hitoshi had gotten himself into. “How can I help?”
Hitoshi closes the last few feet between them, effectively caging Shouta against his own desk. He’s broader than his professor, and more muscular. He’s got a few inches on the older man, and he uses it all as he leans down into the man’s space. He can see the way Shouta subtly tries to back up with nowhere to go, the way the pulse quickens at his throat and the way he swallows hard even as his eyes drop noticeably to Hitoshi’s chest.
“I’ve been thinking about you an awful lot, professor.” He raises his hand to brush dark bangs away from Shouta’s eyes and then cups the man’s face. “I can’t even concentrate on my classes anymore.”
He tells himself that he’s already made one bold move, so there’s really no loss in making one more. He leans down slowly, giving the man a chance to pull away. And when he doesn’t, Hitoshi kisses him.
He can feel the drag of stubble along his cheek as he tilts his head, and soft lips that part for him with a small gasp. Shouta’s mouth is warm and inviting and Hitoshi’s tongue explores it eagerly. He’s surprised when Shouta’s hands fall to waist, bunching in the fabric of his sweater and holding him there, even more so when the man’s tongue hesitantly gives chase to his. When Hitoshi pulls away, he’s breathless. He leans in, hoping for another kiss and is met with a hand on his stomach.
“This is… inappropriate, Hitoshi.” Shouta’s eyes are down, watching the rapid rise and fall of Hitoshi’s chest. He’s acutely aware of how fast his own is, and how warm his face still feels. He’s never done anything like this before – with anyone – but that only serves to make him feel more desperate for it.
Hitoshi’s thumb trails along Shouta’s cheekbone. Emboldened by his success so far, he pushes further. “Is that what you tell yourself when you stare at my ass during lacrosse practice? Don’t think I haven’t noticed, professor.”
Shouta’s face feels like it’s on fire as he sputters over his own words, trying desperately to deny it, and knowing full well that he’d been caught. Hitoshi takes the opening to pull the hand on his stomach away and kisses it before leaning in and grinding the hard, clothed length of his cock against the older man.
He’s not surprised to find that Shouta’s hard as well. Hitoshi trails his hands up the older man’s stomach, fingers dancing against warm skin and coarse hair as he pushes the material up to pinch and pull at pert, brown nipples. Shouta moans softly, head falling against Hitoshi’s shoulder. He comes to his senses briefly, shaking his head.
“We shouldn’t… Anyone could–” His words are cut off by another, louder moan as one of Hitoshi’s hands dips down to squeeze his cock.
“It’s okay, professor.” Hitoshi drops to his knees in front of Shouta and looks up at him through hooded eyes while he palms the hard, clothed length and then unzips his slacks. “I already locked the door.”
“Wait…” Shouta’s hand falls on top of Hitoshi’s, but he can’t meet the boy’s eyes without his cheeks flaming warm.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten a blowjob before, professor.” Hitoshi just smirks up at him knowingly while he runs his knuckles over the obvious bulge along Shouta’s zipper and then pulls the man’s cock out.
His watches as Shouta turns his face away, dark bangs falling like a veil to conceal his face and then pumps the thick length a few times to get a feel for what he’s working with. Shouta’s much bigger than Hitoshi had thought he would be. He shoves the man’s pants down around his hips and leans into nose against the man’s heavy balls. He licks them, sucking them into his mouth one at a time and curling his tongue over the tender things while he breathes in the scent of clean soap and warm musk.
“Hng…” Shouta moans, head falling back while his fingers tangle in Hitoshi’s hair.
When he’s had his fill there, he runs his tongue up the twitching length and dips his tongue into the leaking slit. He sucks on that sweet, flushed head pulling out as much of the salty pre as he can before working his way down the man’s length. Shouta whines and moans above him, fingers tugging gently on his hair as if he knows what he’s doing.
Hitoshi’s only just gotten his nose buried in coarse, dark curls when those slender fingers tighten and something warm rushes down the back of his throat. He swallows the thick, warm cum easily before working his way back up, cleaning every inch of Shouta’s cock as he goes.
“I’m so sorry…” Shouta’s free hand is gripping the desk hard enough that his knuckles are turning white. The other hand is clamped over his mouth while he stares down, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t…”
“It’s okay.” Hitoshi licks his lips lewdly – it’s not the first time someone’s cum down his throat unexpectedly and if he has his way, it definitely won’t be the last. He presses one last kiss to the head of Shouta’s cock and then stands. He moves slowly, nosing along the man’s jaw and grabbing his hand to guide it to the bulge in his own jeans. “Can you help me with this, professor?”
He watches as Shouta nods and begins fumbling with his belt and zipper. The hand that grips his cock feels amazing, if a little unsure. Hitoshi wraps his own hand around Shouta’s and guides it up and down his cock in long, smooth strokes, letting the pre that drips from his slit, smooth the glide. He moans in Shouta’s ear and nips at the soft lobe while he whispers words of encouragement…
“Your hands feel so good.”
“That’s it. Keep going.”
“F-fuck! Just like that!”
Shouta finds a nice, easy rhythm and Hitoshi leans into it, rocking his hips to meet each quick, hard pump until he’s spilling ropes of white over the man’s hand. Hitoshi cums with a loud, low groan, hips jerking twice more before finally stilling. He pulls Shouta against him and presses their lips together. This time, Shouta meets his kiss eagerly, nipping at full, pink lips and chasing Hitoshi’s mouth when he pulls away.
He looks like he wants to say something but can’t quite bring himself to. It’s a cute look that Hitoshi is eager to see more of – there’s a lot he’s eager to see more of. Shouta’s still breathless and panting when Hitoshi touches him, teasingly stroking him a few times before tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping them up. He watches with hazy, lust-filled eyes as Hitoshi tucks his own cock away and then straightens both of their sweaters, so they look presentable.
“Thank you for helping me with my problem, professor." He presses one last kiss to Shouta’s lips before turning away. He almost makes it to the door before his wrist is grabbed by hesitant fingers. He smirks a wide, cocky grin as he turns to face Shouta. “Everything okay?”
Shouta nods but doesn’t say anything. Thank you seems too awkward and yet, he’s not forward enough to ask for what he really wants.
Hitoshi seems to understand though, because he leans in and takes Shouta’s mouth in one last, slow kiss. “I can come back tomorrow if you’d like. I’ll even let you fuck me.”