Work Text:
Emmett Forrest’s first act on his first day as Callahan’s new TA is graceless: he trips straight out of bed.
It’s five o’clock in the morning and Callahan has just called him in, and he’s late. He’s late for his first day. Emmett is going to be sick. He stumbles to his dresser in his tiny college dorm room that they’ve kindly let him stay in, tugging on whatever clothes he locates. He’s not got many articles of clothing, he’ll be honest. He grabs his pre-packed bag and rushes out the door, barely remembering to lock it after him before disappearing down the hallway.
-
“You’re late, Forrest.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I overslept--” Emmett’s panicked excuses are cut off by Callahan putting a finger up.
“Quiet. Don’t let it happen again. All our students are coming in for the first time today, and it will not be a good example if you’re late.” Emmett nods, cheeks turning pink, and Callahan is mollified. But Emmett can’t help but feel like he’s failed a test he didn’t quite know he was taking.
“Get out there, Forrest.”
-
Emmett watches, slightly in awe, as Callahan. Well, he can’t come up with a better word for it than ‘destroys’. So he watches in awe as Callahan destroys the new class, just like how he did on Emmett’s first day. It’s nearly impressive, honestly. He doesn’t want to say anything, but the small smirk he gives Emmett every time he hands a paper to his boss fuels him through the rest of the day, even as he follows Elle comma Woods out of the class and comforts her.
She’s confusing, to say the least, but Emmett can feel himself drawn to her. She’s like a fuzzy, sparkly, pink tornado.
After talking with her, he makes his way back into the building. The conversation with Elle still buzzed in his head, but he found himself pulled back toward Callahan anyway. The classroom is empty, and he heads to Professor Callahan’s office to have their post-first-day debriefing meeting. Callahan’s sitting at his desk, face twisted into an unfamiliar grimace.
“What’s going on?” The question, laced with concern, slips out of Emmett’s mouth before he can stop it. Callahan looks up, face softening just enough for him to notice.
“Nothing, Forrest. Just a long day. I didn’t want to kick Ms. Woods out, you know that. I never want to.” For a second, he looks genuinely remorseful, and Emmett’s stomach drops. On instinct, he reaches out-- to do what, he doesn’t know, just to comfort his teacher, for some reason-- and then pulls his hand back quickly. Callahan loosens his tie, rubs his temples exhaustedly. “I didn’t want to kick you out, either. Your first day. In fact, you were the one I least wanted to kick out. You were-- are, one of my favorite students.” Emmett’s chest warms at the words, even as his stomach knots. It feels dangerous, how much he wants to believe him-- This is a side of Callahan Emmett has never seen before. He seems nearly.. Vulnerable. Most of him knows Callahan has never been vulnerable in his life, but part of him likes that Callahan can be vulnerable around him. It feels.. Special. He feels special.
His cheeks flush. He feels a bit hot. And it’s not entirely an unwelcome feeling.
-
Emmett walks away from his first study session with Elle feeling good. Very good, in fact. Elle’s very, very kind, and she doesn’t mind it when he trails off in the middle of a thought, or when he picks up random things off her vanity to fiddle with them.
Halfway through the studying, he gets a text. Callahan’s personal number- Need you in in two hours. My office. And Emmett has to admit, the phrasing of “need you” makes him feel very.. Wanted. So he walks over to his boss’s office, sits down across from him, and leans forward with a smile.
“Hello, Emmett,” and the use of his name makes him feel a bit warm, “I’m glad to see you here.”
“Of course, sir. Wh- what is it that you needed me for?” Emmett’s voice stumbles, and he trips over his words, blinking quickly.
Callahan chuckles, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. “You don’t have to call me sir, Emmett. Call me Richard.” Emmett nods, cheeks warming. This is an honor. “Now- as for what I called you here for, er. Selfish reasons. I’ve been very lonely lately. And you’re good company, Emmett.” He drags his chair around the desk to sit right beside Emmett instead of across. The scraping noise makes Emmett flinch. He angles his head towards Callahan, eyes drifting over him, trying to gauge intention. He can’t find anything in his boss’s eyes.
Callahan briefly leans away to a small minifridge on a shelf besides his office, retrieving a bottle of wine and two glasses. He stands, ignoring the way Emmett looks at him. He pours two glasses, and Emmett keeps his eyes on the drinks just in case. One glass is pressed into his hand, and Callahan sits back down, cocking his head.
“Do you not drink, Emmett?”
“Er, no. I mean, I’ve never tried. Never much time to drink, really ever, in my life. Plus, some of my old step-fathers used to be pretty heavy drinkers. It wasn’t quite a path I ever wanted to follow.” He bites down onto the bottom of his lip, tasting metal. Talking to Callahan just feels easy. Or maybe it’s the proximity to the alcohol making him talk.
“Step-fathers. Plural. Care to tell?” Callahan takes a sip of his wine, then another, eyes still trained on his teaching assistant. Emmett takes an inhale through his nose, and watches as Callahan taps a perfectly manicured nail on his wine glass. He doesn’t answer the question.
“Drink.” Something makes Emmett want to. So-- he does. The wine tastes sour, or maybe that’s just the odd feeling in his stomach. Emmett feels the wine burn, thinks about how gross it tastes, but then catches Callahan’s approving look. He convinces himself it’s worth it to be seen as competent. He might even think, maybe this is just part of the job.
“Good boy.” And Emmett melts. He takes another sip, stomach flipping as Callahan smiles proudly at him. He’s proud. Proud! Callahan’s hands drift closer to Emmett, and suddenly, one of them is on his shoulder. His skin tingles.
“You carry all your stress in your shoulders, Emmett. You’ll burn out before your first case.”
“I don’t- mean to, professor.”
“I know you don’t. You’ve been through more than most. You deserve someone to take care of you. May I?” Callahan’s standing now, both of his hands resting lightly on Emmett’s shoulders. He’s just being kind. Professors are like this sometimes, right? So he nods, and Callahan’s fingers dig into the knots in his muscles, deftly working them out.
-
Emmett keeps working with Elle, and Callahan keeps calling him into his office. Just to talk. They speak, lots. Emmett spills everything about his family and his past and Callahan comforts him. He keeps finding excuses to come into his office, and Callahan keeps finding excuses to drink together. And Emmett doesn’t quite mind.
Callahan’s hand lingered too long at the back of his neck, pressing warmth into his skin. “You’re tense again,” he murmured, low and quiet, like it was something intimate. Emmett tried to laugh it off, but the sound cracked halfway out of his throat. He felt like he was dying. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.
“You don’t need to be nervous around me, Forrest.” Callahan said. The office was quiet, too quiet, and Emmett suddenly hated the closed door. A glass clinked on the desk. The squeak of a leather chair. A shadow leaning closer. The smell of cologne and wine mixed. The clock ticking on the wall. “Don’t look at me like that, Forrest. You’re not some wide-eyed undergrad anymore. You know what this is. What we are.”
Emmett thought, wildly, I should leave. But his feet stayed rooted. Callahan smiled at him like the verdict of a case had just been delivered, and he’d won. The door is locked behind Emmett.
— and then the memory blurred, as if someone had torn the page out of the story. He remembered the office door closing. Then nothing until the hallway light. He couldn’t place how he’d gotten from one to the other. The buttons of his shirt were open and his sleeves were rolled up.
He found himself in the bathroom now, inspecting himself in the mirror. There’s a hand-shaped imprint on his chin and cheek, like someone had grabbed it and turned his head towards them. He pressed his palms flat to the wall, just to steady himself-- his hands shook anyway.
Emmett’s throat worked uselessly. He wanted to call Elle, or something, just to hear her laugh and encourage him, but if he opened his mouth now, he was sure nothing would come out at all. He buttons his shirt back up and steps outside.
-
“Emmett, you’re a STAR.” Elle flops back onto her bedding after a long study session. His body betrays him. He flinches lightly at the praise, expecting a hand on his shoulder like Callahan would. This’d been a good study session, though, they had got a lot done. He nearly missed this one oversleeping-- Callahan’s been working him harder recently.
Speaking of Callahan, Emmett’s in his office now, filing paperwork. “Erm, I noticed you have me scheduled for some student prep tonight-- I have a meeting with Elle, at the same time. Do you mind if I-?” He cuts himself off, blinking slowly at his mentor. Callahan’s smile drops.
“Emmett, if you’re truly serious about making partner soon, you’ll keep your focus where it belongs.” That’s the end of the discussion, and Emmett nods quickly and turns away. He’ll make it up to her next time, it’s just one study session, after all. “I know you have a soft spot for Miss Woods. But if you choose her over me, I’ll throw her out from my class, and maybe even Harvard at large. You know the sort of power I have, Emmett. Now come here.”
-
Emmett sat in Callahan’s office until well past midnight. He filed briefs, fetched coffee, stayed quiet while his professor dictated notes. When Callahan finally let him go, Emmett’s phone buzzed in his pocket- a text from Elle, sent an hour ago: still good for tonight? i made snacks! And then the sparkly heart emoji, then the kitty cat, then a picture of a plate of chips.
His throat closed. He typed back quickly, hands trembling over the screen: sorry, something came up. can we reschedule? Then he added a smiling face, because that was easier than explaining.
Callahan glanced up from his desk. “Everything all right, Forrest?”
“Yes, sir.” Emmett said, pocketing the phone too quickly.
“Good boy. You’re making the right choice.” Callahan leaned back, lips curling into a satisfied smile. He crossed the room, resting one hand on Emmett’s shoulder in that casual, possessive way of his. It lingered too long. And before Emmett left, stomach turning uncomfortably, on an instinct, he turned to Callahan.
“If I told someone-- a-about us. I wouldn’t. Ever, but if I did-”
“I. would. find. out. You’re too smart to throw this away, Emmett. You need me, right? But, Forrest. Do you think she’ll believe you? You think anyone will?… no, no. You’re cleverer than that. Far too clever to ruin yourself.”
And then he adjusts Emmett’s tie for him, smiling like he’s done something kind.
-
Emmett is overworked, underslept, and four days ago, he’s pretty sure his professor.. Well. He doesn’t want to say the word. Elle’s texts pile up unread. A couple days he skips out on a meeting with her because he’s too tired to risk talking. His hands shake so much he spills coffee on Callahan’s files, and he lets out a tired whimper of apology. Callahan just says “careful, Forrest” like it’s nothing.
-
Elle notices his shirt cuff buttoned wrong once, and she fixes it for him without comment. He nearly bursts into tears. Something in Emmett breaks. “He- Callahan- he-” He cuts himself off, shakes his head, forces a smile. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand. Sorry.” The last word is whispered.