Chapter Text
We just reviewed comma splices in class last Tuesday. Next time, I’d recommend paying attention, instead of wasting your time and mine sending those--
The pen in Professor Hux’s hand finally ran out of ink, and just before the end of another scathing grammatical error correction. He nearly growled in frustration, before shoving the useless, broken thing into his bag, and digging for another. He was certain that if he had to return to his office for another, he was going to completely lose it.
After near infinite hours of essay grading in his cramped library basement office, he had the sudden craving for a change of scenery. He had never seen anyone sit at the kiosks in the student center and was intrigued by their solitude and stylish design.
However, he quickly realized why the tables were constantly empty. The desks were sleek, fancy, and small-- too small to properly hold a laptop or allow for his tall frame. The chairs, meanwhile, were too tall and resulted in his knees constantly bumping against the edge of the table. Terribly impractical and frustrating.
The door to the student center slammed open, startling him. As if he had needed more disruption, now the seemingly peaceful space was to be invaded by rude, overgrown children. And at nearly 9 pm on a weeknight, no less.
“I bet they fuck in the writing center after the library closes for the night.” Some unknown voice said, shattering the heretofore perfect silence of the student center.
Hux slowly reached up to readjust his glasses, trying to look inconspicuous as he paused his grading. He leaned back, pretending to fiddle with the pencil behind his ear as he tried to catch sight of who was speaking just around the corner.
Hux wondered who exactly the voices were talking about, which miscreant would really dare to defile Professor Tico’s precious writing center that way. He did not approve of vulgar topics being spoken of so openly, particularly in a public place where children often frequented. One never knew when the children’s theatre would bring their students traipsing through, or when the errant girl scout troop might make an appearance.
He managed to catch the slightest glimpse of the duo, before his chair lurched forward, the legs loudly screeching against the floor. He halted his movement, anxiously awaiting their discovery of his presence; luckily, they continued their conversation, uncaring of who else might be listening. Hux continued his stealth observation.
He instantly recognized Beaumont Kin, but could not manage to see the face of the dark haired man holding a lacrosse stick. After a few seconds, it clicked. There was only one student he knew who insisted on carrying a lacrosse stick everywhere, including Hux’s own classroom. That image, coupled with the swagger in his voice--the same one he’d heard mouthing off countless times over the course of the semester--led his thoughts to only one student: Poe Dameron.
Hux had always thought Beaumont Kin to be one of the most respectful of his students, with their rude comments, glazed over expressions and complete lack of interest in class discussions. Apparently, he was wrong; all of them were cut from the same cloth behind closed doors.
“Nah, they probably do it in her office. He’s too uptight to screw her in public,” Beaumont sneered, before laughing at his own joke.
“Getting fucked in that overstuffed mess of a coat closet she calls an office?” Dameron scoffed, “Nah, if she fucks on campus, she fucks in the center. Probably why she went all out for those comfy chairs.”
They couldn’t be talking about a student, he thought, not if the woman they were talking about had an office. They had to be talking about someone in the faculty, but hardly any faculty members outside of the tiny English department knew about the writing center, tucked away in the library basement next to his own office.
There were only three faculty members in the English department: himself, Professor Wexley, and Professor Tico, who was the only woman, the only possibility. The only beautiful, talented, stunning possibility.
‘No no no no no NO…’ his thoughts repeated, ‘They couldn’t possibly be talking about Professor Tico. Someone like her would never do anything so perverse!’ He combed his fingers aggressively through his slicked back hair, physically banishing his sudden forbidden thought of Professor Tico, naked and wanton, straddling slim, pale hips.
He scoffed, shaking himself out of foolishly entertaining their presumptuous and wildly inappropriate gossip. He was above listening to empty freshman chatter.
He tried to readjust his focus to the devastatingly poorly written English 102 essay in front of him, but to no avail. His focus kept returning back to the two men’s gossip. He tried to convince himself to ignore their chatter; he was certain that all they were talking about were rumours, without even a breath of truth. Even though they were just rumours, Hux could not resist listening; he was drawn to anything and everything that was linked to Professor Tico or her center.
“You know a woman like her must have the kinkiest sex.” Dameron mused, “Blowjobs and everything. I’d love to have her give me a one on one consultation , if you know what I mean.”
Beaumont snickered, “Yeah, but I don’t know what Rose sees in that rude, broody asshole.”
“He must have the world’s best cock, no other explanation for it,” Dameron scoffed.
‘Broody asshole? ’ Hux paused, considering their description.
There was only one professor on campus who would qualify as broody: Professor Kylo Ren. He was the Science department’s tenured professor, advisor to the STEM council, and absolute bane of Hux’s existence.
Hux recalled that Professor Tico did chat with Ren quite amicably during general arts faculty meetings. Ren had discreetly sent a smirk Hux’s way the last time he’d caught Hux staring at them. He only had himself to blame for Ren’s mockery where Professor Tico was concerned.
Last year, in the middle of a drunken Christmas party rant, he had confided in Ren about his thoughts and feelings on Professor Tico, much to his later embarrassment and dismay. Ren seemed to bring it up at every opportunity, and if Hux wasn’t mistaken, he even seemed to flirt with Professor Tico in front of him, as if he was trying to make Hux jealous.
‘ If Professor Tico... ’ he paused his thought with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, finally allowing himself to give in to his own weakness, ‘ If Rose was fucking some lucky, broody prick in the nook under the library basement stairs, it was none of his damn business .’
He gave one last final sigh as he stood and gathered his papers back into his briefcase, intending to return to his office so he could finish his grading in peace. His ears perked up to catch the last of the conversation between Beaumont and Dameron.
“Gross. I don’t need the image of that asshole Hux with a giant cock,” Beaumont gagged, before laughing.
And that was the moment Hux learned that the entire student body believed he was fucking Professor Rose Tico: the English Department Adjunct, Writing Center Director, and secret love of his life.