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Eskel had ended his lecture exactly on time as usual, but had then been besieged by an especially enthusiastic student. The young man had apparently just read Eskel’s latest book and felt compelled to recite large portions of it back to him. Normally Eskel would have had to excuse himself to get to his post grad seminar, but it was off this week, so he decided he could afford a few minutes to indulge this sweet, if slightly oblivious, first year student.
Only then he was showing no sign of stopping as the lecture hall was starting to fill up with students for the next class. Finally, after some ignored throat clearing and paper shuffling from Eskel, the student checked his watch and, with a gasp, tore off to his next class. Eskel chuckled to himself and began to pack up his laptop when he overheard the conversation two women were having in the front row.
“Gods, the new prof is so hot,” one of them moaned. “Do you think, if I handed in my essay late, he’d spank me?”
The other one burst out laughing, then looked at Eskel and clapped a hand over her mouth. “You are so bad,” she whispered to her friend.
“Yeah, but… bad enough for him to spank me?”
They cackled, and Eskel couldn’t help but grin. He had overheard more than one conversation about the “hot” new prof in the medieval studies department, who had a class scheduled in the hall right after Eskel. The professor’s name was Lambert and his doctoral thesis was on weaponry, with a focus on daggers. Eskel had read it before Lambert was even hired, and he had to admit, it was rather brilliant.
Eskel specialized in the mythology of beasts and monsters, so he was understandably eager to meet the man and pick his brain. He felt a little guilty that he hadn’t yet, actually. It was a large department, so they hadn't crossed paths. Eskel was busy applying for research funding with some deadlines just around the corner, not to mention he had just finished renovations on his house, so he hadn’t even made it to the coffee afternoon the department had organized when Lambert arrived.
His curiosity got the better of him now, listening to the enthusiasm from the two women, so he headed up the amphitheater steps and took a seat in the back row, waiting for the new professor to arrive.
Eskel frowned at his phone for a few minutes while catching up on emails, when the volume of the background chatter of the lecture hall suddenly jumped up a few notches.
Eskel looked up and felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Hot” didn’t even begin to describe it. The man was tall, maybe 6’2, with broad, muscular shoulders clearly visible beneath his fitted white dress shirt. His biceps strained at the sleeves. But his hair. My gods, his hair. Chin-length, half pulled back, impossibly soft-looking red curls that Eskel immediately wanted to bury his face in. He had a short red beard and black square-framed glasses, and stood at the front of the lecture hall with easy confidence.
But then he started speaking and Eskel was immediately lost in the sound of his voice and the passion behind his words. He found himself taking notes, coming up with questions and ideas to follow up on, just as involved as every student in the hall seemed to be, if not more.
He thought about going to introduce himself to Lambert when the class ended, but the red head was immediately swarmed by students and Eskel figured it wasn’t a good time. He’d run into him eventually.
Eskel lived just off campus and it was a short walk home through leafy boulevards. His dog, Brux, was waiting to greet him at the front door, leaping and twisting like he hadn’t seen Eskel in a year. He was a cream-coloured mix of poodle and terrier that Eskel had rescued as a puppy. Brux had fallen deeply in love with him from that very moment.
“Okay, okay,” he grinned when Brux grabbed his leash in his mouth and danced around him. “Yes, bud. Let’s go.”
A linear park ran along a river at the edge of the university campus. It was their favourite place to go for walks. He had stopped to let Brux sniff around a tree, and was gazing at the new reds and yellows of the leaves around him when, suddenly, there he was.
Lambert.
He was walking towards them with a black labradoodle puppy on a leash. He had changed into jeans and a black leather jacket. Holy fuck.
Eskel realized he was staring, and then as he drew level, Lambert’s eyes flicked over and caught his.
“Lambert,” he said dumbly.
“Hi?” the man stopped and nodded at him. “Are you... one of my students?”
“Oh, no, I’m a professor, too, as well…” He stuck out his hand. “Eskel.”
“Ohhh,” a light dawned in his eyes. “ The Bestiary .” They shook, Lambert gripping his hand firmly.
“Yes,” Eskel blushed.
“It’s good. Seminal.”
Eskel nodded, searching for words, his tongue suddenly heavy and dry in his mouth. He instead looked down at the other dog. “Who’s this?”
“Kiki.”
“Brux.” They watched the dogs sniff each other, tails cautiously wagging.
Eskel squirmed in the silence. “So, do you like Oxenfurt so far?”
Lambert squinted at him. “Yeah. The dean’s a bit of a wanker though, isn’t he?”
Eskel felt a well of laugher bubbling up this throat. The dean was in fact a massive wanker, but he’d never heard another professor say so out loud.
But then Kiki’s attention was drawn down the path and she began to pull at her leash. Lambert took a few steps with her.
“It was nice to meet you,” Eskel offered.
“Likewise. See you later, Eskel.”
Lambert turned and let Kiki pull him down the path
Eskel and Brux watched them go, then shared a look. “Cute, right?” Eskel mumbled.
Eskel might have made a point to head out with Brux at the same time the next day along the same route. He felt his heart leap into his throat when he spotted Lambert heading towards him again, far down the path. This gave Eskel plenty of time to figure out what he was going to say.
And yet, when Lambert approached him and gave him an easy smile, his mind was screamingly blank.
“Hi,” Eskel went with.
“Eskel.” Lament nodded at him and crouched down to scratch behind Brux’s ears. “Hi, pup.”
His shoulders were so broad and the leather hugged them just right… Eskel’s eyes trailed down to his…
“What kind of dog is he?” Lambert asked while Brux licked his hand and wagged his tail mercilessly.
“Uh, they think he’s a Whoodle,” Eskel said, cringing at the ridiculous name. Lambert looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s a Wheaton terrier and a poodle,” Eskel explained.
Lambert smiled at Brux and stood up. “He’s brilliant.”
“Not much for jogging, though,” Eskel said fondly. Brux was absolutely not interested in any pace faster than a leisurely stroll.
“You run?” Lambert asked.
“I try… Need to burn off the pints,” Eskel rubbed his neck sheepishly.
“I hear that, mate,” Lambert chuckled.
“Where do you work out?” Eskel blurted. Gods, Eskel. You git.
Lambert’s lip quirked. “I train for triathlons. Have a small gym at home.”
“Oh.” Eskel imagined him dripping sweat, muscles straining under a dumbbell. “Good for you.”
This time Brux caught a scent and tried to drag Eskel away. “Easy, Brux,” Eskel laughed. “I’ll… see you tomorrow, maybe?”
Lambert waved. “Maybe.”
Eskel woke the next day, a Friday, to a torrential downpour. His umbrella didn’t help much and he got soaked getting to and from his classes. Once he got home though, it had softened into a light drizzle, and he didn’t want to miss the chance to see Lambert, so he threw on a raincoat and headed back out.
He was regretting it an hour later when there had been no sign of Lambert on the river path and he felt wet and cold, despite the coat. He looked down at Brux, whose creamy fur was mostly brown with mud, more of a drowned rat than a dog. “Time to head home, hey, Brux?” Eskel asked him. Brux gave his scraggly, wet tail one sad wag.
Eskel could see his house over the footbridge when he unhooked Brux’s leash, letting him stop to sniff one more tree.
Eskel let his mind drift a moment, wondering if Lambert’s schedule was perhaps different on weekends - maybe he wouldn’t get to see him at all for three whole days - when all of a sudden, Brux was off back down the path like a shot.
“Brux!” he called, baffled. He had never run off like that. “Damn it!” he grumbled and set off after him.
He could see a figure down the path with a black dog on his leash and his heart leapt when he saw a flash of red hair. Lambert.
And then, oh shit, he realized that Brux was barrelling straight for him at full speed. “Brux!” he bellowed, and started running in a futile attempt to rein in over 20 kilograms of wet dog.
Lambert hadn’t seen them at first, but at Eskel’s last call he looked up and grinned.
Brux was closing the distance quickly and Eskel made one last attempt. “Brux, no! Bad dog!”
And then Brux hurled himself up onto Lambert. Lambert had been ready for it, but with the impact of the dog, his back foot slipped on the wet grass, and they went down in a heap of thrashing limbs, right into a puddle.
Eskel arrived, panting and horrified. “Oh my gods, Lambert, I am so sorry. Brux! What were you thinking?”
Kiki was happily dancing in circles around the puddle, yapping in delight at all the excitement.
Eskel hauled Brux off of Lambert with a furious scolding and, mortified, he took Lambert’s outstretched hand and pulled him up. He was drenched, head to toe. He looked at Eskel, bemused and dripping. His glasses were missing.
Eskel couldn’t stop apologizing. “Fuck. I am so sorry. Fuck! Fucking dog. He has never done that before. Bad Brux!” Eskel splashed through the puddle until he found Lambert’s glasses.
Brux barked at Eskel and smiled at him, tongue lolling out.
Lambert took the glasses from Eskel and burst out laughing. “Nice to see you too, mate,” he said, patting Brux on the head.
“Gods, you’re soaked. I’m so sorry. I live just there-” Eskel turned to point. “Can I offer you some dry clothes? A cup of tea? Please…?”
Lambert looked down at the muddy paw prints on his jeans and attempted to brush them off, only managing to smear them more.
“Erm… sure. Yeah. That would be great.” He still looked thoroughly amused by it all.
The rain had picked up again. Eskel realized his hood had blown off as he was running, so now he was drenched as well. He pushed back the hair that was stuck to his forehead.
Eskel clipped Brux’s leash back on. “We’ll discuss this later,” he muttered to the dog, who didn’t look the least bit sorry about any of it.
They left the dogs on Eskel’s covered porch and sloshed their way into the foyer. Eskel quickly hung up his coat and left his socks and boots there. “Let me just get you some towels.”
He ducked into the loo and came back with two towels. Lambert was barefoot and had hung up his raincoat and jumper. A small puddle had already formed under him on the tiles and the towels seemed unhelpful.
“Actually, fuck it. Don’t worry about the water. You can change in here…” he pointed at the loo and held up the towels for him. “I’ll go find you something to wear.”
“Thanks.” Their hands touched when Lambert took the towels, and Eskel felt a jolt travel down his arm.
Lambert shut the door behind him. Eskel stared at it for a second, suddenly aware that Lambert was, at this very moment, taking his clothes off in his house. He blinked and then forced himself to go find something that would fit the other man. Lambert was only a little taller with equally broad shoulders, but with a much narrower waist.
Eskel dug through his drawers and found some sweatpants with a drawstring waist, a t-shirt, and a jumper that he thought would fit. He paused, staring at his underwear drawer. Should he give Lambert boxers to wear? Was that weird? Yes. Wait, was it even weirder to think that Lambert would otherwise not be wearing any underwear at all? Just a thin layer of cotton between Eskel and…
His cheeks burned. Definitely underwear. He found a pair at the bottom of the drawer that was a little too small and which he had only worn once at most, and added it to the pile.
He knocked on the toilet door and was just taking in a breath to speak when it was opened wide.
Lambert stood there with only a towel around his waist. His chest was as muscular as Eskel had expected, and covered in soft-looking red hair.
Eskel was sure he made an audible wheezing sound as the breath shriveled in his lungs. “Clothes,” he choked out. “Here. I, uh…” he saw Lambert eyeing the boxers on top. “I haven’t worn those in a long time. And only once. I think. You don’t have to wear them. But you can. If you want.” Fuck.
Lambert took the clothes from him, their fingers touching again, for longer this time.
Lambert was smirking. “Not my usual style, but… thanks.”
Eskel’s mind raced with possibilities but no words actually came to him by the time Lambert closed the door again. For Kreve’s sake, get it together, Eskel.
He went to quickly change himself and then put the kettle on in the kitchen and lit a fire in the fireplace. He set out a teapot, his two favourite mugs, and a tray of biscuits. Then looked at the biscuits. Too much? He took them away. Then he put them back. Nothing wrong with offering food.
He heard Lambert padding down the hall and when he looked up he nearly groaned at the sight of Lambert wearing his clothes. His hair was still wet, feet bare, and his glasses were now firmly back in place. Eskel was mortified when he realized his eyes flicked to Lambert’s crotch, looking for any evidence indicating whether he was wearing the boxers or not.
Lambert grinned and looked at the table. “Thanks, I love hobnobs.”
Once they were settled with steaming mugs in front of them and had packed away a biscuit or two, Eskel found himself relaxing and chatting easily with Lambert while the fire crackled merrily away.
Eskel asked how his classes were going and they compared notes on a particularly obnoxious undergrad student they both shared.
“Did he really say that?” Eskel said incredulously.
Lambert held up his hand. “Swear to the gods. Two days before the essay deadline he asked for an extension because he said he’s fucking in love with me and he has trouble focusing.”
Eskel laughed so hard he could barely speak. “He said the same thing to me last semester!”
Lambert smacked the table. “That asshole!” he cried, and then joined Eskel in the laughter.
Eskel’s face hurt from smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had this much fun talking to someone, never mind another professor. Once their mugs had been refilled and drained again, and the hobnobs were down to crumbs, Lambert’s hair was dry. The curls were a little mad, and Eskel wanted so badly to touch them.
“Well,” Lambert finally said, “I should get Kiki home.”
Eskel nodded. “I am really so sorry about Brux.”
“Nah, it was fine. I got some tea out of it.” He pushed a curl back. “What time do you walk on Saturdays? I’ll bring your clothes with me.”
“Oh, no hurry,” Eskel said, with a thrill in his stomach. “We usually head out at about 9:00 a.m. and again before dinner.”
“See you at 9:00,” he replied.
* * * *
They walked together Saturday morning, and this time Eskel remembered to ask Lambert some of the questions he had jotted down during his lecture. The time flew by and it was one of the longest walks he’d ever taken with Brux.
Then they walked Sunday evening, and this time Lambert peppered Eskel with questions about his research proposal.
They walked almost every day the following week, and the week after that. Before Eskel knew it, they were friends, and the walk with Lambert, the easy chat and laughter, was the best part of every day. And yet the flutter in his heart at the sound of Lambert’s laugh didn’t go away. The tingle he got when they accidentally brushed shoulders only got stronger. Lambert never gave him any indication he felt the same and Eskel told himself it was fine. That the crush would go away eventually.
It didn’t.
Winter was approaching, and it was the first frost of the season. When it was time for their walk, Eskel pulled a knitted cap on and eagerly crunched through the grass, looking for Lambert and Kiki.
He felt that familiar spark when he saw Lambert approaching him, his red curls bright against the frosty backdrop. But there was no dog.
“Where’s Kiki?” Eskel asked immediately when they were within speaking distance. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Lambert took a deep breath and tucked his hands in his pockets. He blew out the breath, white in the cold air. “Kiki is… not my dog, actually.”
Eskel quirked his head, confused. “She’s not?”
“She’s my neighbours’.”
“Oh, and you… walk her for them?”
Lambert looked away and laughed. “Sometimes. But… I started walking her every day. Recently.”
“Well, that’s… nice of you?” Eskel was still confused.
Lambert pushed a hand through his hair and Eskel admired the way the wind caught a curl.
“No. Eskel.” Lambert let out a low chuckle and hunched his shoulders. “I fucking borrowed Kiki… every day… so I had an excuse to walk with you.” Lambert looked at his feet, and then up at Eskel with squinted eyes.
“Oh.” Brux pulled at his leash and Eskel looked down at him, then back up at Lambert. “Oh.”
And then Lambert stepped forward and slid his fingers along Eskel’s jaw. He held his eyes for a moment, and then leaned in to gently kiss him.
Eskel let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Lambert is kissing me. And then something in his brain clicked and he kissed back. Desperately. Hungrily. His hands slid up Lambert’s back under his jacket.
It took a sharp bark from Brux to remind him they were in the middle of a park. “Tea?” Eskel offered, pulling away and catching his breath.
“Hell, yeah,” Lambert replied, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
They never made it to the kitchen. Eskel pushed Lambert back against the front door the second it closed, embarrassed at how enthusiastically he was grinding up against him until Lambert grabbed his ass and pulled him in even harder.
“Where’s your bedroom?” Lambert whispered in between kisses.
Eskel hooked his fingers into Lambert’s waistband, thumbs brushing over the smooth skin.
“Follow me.” He pulled Lambert down the hall, and then yanked him closer to continue the kissing at the foot of his bed. Their tongues wound together, the kiss wet and hungry.
Then Lambert broke away, panting. “Lie back on the bed.” He gave Eskel a gentle push. “I want to show you something.”
Eskel gave him a confused look, but obeyed. Once Eskel was comfortably reclining on his pillows, Lambert pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side. Eskel let his eyes wander over his sculpted shoulders and arms, licking his lips at the thought of putting them on Lambert’s skin.
Lambert slid a hand down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, then onto his bulge. He squeezed it once, and Eskel could feel his heart pounding. Lambert started to unbutton his jeans, turning around to face away from Eskel. He slowly, slowly slid his pants down, revealing that he was wearing dark blue, sheer panties.
Eskel had never had a partner wear panties before but it was suddenly the hottest fucking thing he had ever seen. And then he remembered Lambert’s words, Not my usual style.... “Fuck,” he said.
Lambert peeked back at him and grinned. “Just wait.”
He pushed his jeans the whole way off, bending at the waist, until matching blue stockings were also visible. Eskel’s dick was already hard and throbbing.
And then Lambert turned around to face him and Eskel’s jaw dropped at the sight. Lambert’s rather large cock strained against the satiny fabric.
Eskel’s mouth watered. “Gods, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed.
“Yeah?” Lambert said, sauntering towards him, hips swaying. He climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled towards Eskel. He grabbed Eskel’s ankles and yanked until Eskel was lying flat on his back. Then he crawled over Eskel, settling on his chest, his knees on either side of Eskel’s head.
Eskel had never been so turned on. He wrapped his hands under Lambert’s thighs and around his hips, and slid one hand onto Lambert’s stomach, running his fingers through the soft trail of hair.
“You like them?” Lambert asked in a low voice, very slightly rolling his hips.
“Fuck,” was Eskel’s reply. He looked hungrily at Lambert’s cock, barely contained by the fabric.
Lambert pushed Eskel’s hair back. “Go ahead,” he whispered.
Eskel pulled Lambert’s hips towards him and tentatively licked his hard length through the panties. He could taste Lambert’s precome.
Lambert shuddered.
Eskel pulled him closer and kissed his cock gently, just a brush of the lips. Goosebumps sprang up on Lambert’s skin and he groaned softly. Eskel kissed it again, a little slower, his tongue lapping at the fabric.
He looked up at Lambert who was watching him with a heated gaze.
Eskel opened his lips further and sucked at Lambert’s cock, pulling it into his mouth as much as he could.
Lambert gently thrust his hips forward. “Gods, that's good,” he murmured, threading his fingers into Eskel’s hair.
Eskel groaned around his mouthful, the panties now soaked with his saliva.
Lambert rocked into his mouth. “Eskel…” he murmured.
Eskel dragged his tongue up Lambert’s cock one more time and then his head fell back onto the bed. “I want to fuck you in these,” he gasped. “Please.”
Lambert leaned over and put his lips next to Eskel’s ear. “Yes, sir.”
* * * *
Sex with Lambert absolutely blew Eskel’s fucking mind. The man was passionate and tender and told Eskel exactly what he wanted and gave back everything that he got. Eskel came harder than he ever had before, and they ended up lying tangled and sweaty in the sheets, Lambert’s panties slightly ripped, very wet, but still on. His stockings, however, were lost somewhere in the linens.
Eskel’s fingers trailed down Lambert’s arm, a sleepy smile on his face. “You are… amazing,” he said dreamily.
“I know,” Lambert smirked. He planted a kiss on Eskel’s chest and wiggled in closer.
“What did your neighbours say when you asked to borrow their dog every single day for weeks?” Eskel suddenly wondered.
Lambert shrugged. “I may have told them I was trying to seduce a hot professor who had a dog.”
Eskel blushed. “Wait… you thought you had to seduce me?”
“Are you kidding? You’re so fucking hot and smart… I figured you had people lining up…”
Eskel kissed Lambert’s hair, his blush deepening. “No… it’s just been me and Brux. And now you and Kiki…”
Lambert palmed his face. “My fake dog.” And then a full-throated laugh burst out of him.
Eskel smiled at the sound, and then started to laugh himself. “Best fake dog ever.”
They ended up roaring together, and then it was just intermittent giggles as they wiped tears from their eyes, and then were kissing again.
“Will you walk with me tomorrow?” Eskel murmured, feathering kisses on Lambert’s closed eyelids, breathing in his scent.
Lambert sighed, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Every fucking day,” he promised.