Chapter Text
It was still near the beginning of the semester. The library was largely empty except for the occasional grad student. Casper recognized one of the students in his own graduate program. She’d also been one of the ones to apply for his TA position. When Emily glanced up, he gave her a polite smile. She waved back before her nose quickly returned to her stack of papers. He wasn’t supposed to play favorites, but he was excited to see how the second year’s work was coming along. Her thesis was one of the most fascinating by far. And honestly, he’d already decided on her for his TA. He planned to tell her during their next weekly meeting.
Casper disappeared among the shelves until he reached the right section. He had an extensive collection at home, but he knew a few recent texts and collections of essays had been brought in. One was by a researcher Casper was somewhat acquainted with. Dr. Underhill in a completely different area of study, but their work had crossed paths several years ago. He was always impressed by her work. Had a few journals specifically because the woman had published studies in them. Still, he’d like to get a feel for the book before deciding if he’d buy it for himself.
He managed to find two of the books he was searching for. He moved to the next set of decimals where the last book should be. His finger continued to slowly drag across the spines both new and old. Broken bindings. Engraved titles. Glossy and rough. He was so focused on the names of authors, he didn’t notice the figure coming up behind him.
His finger hesitated on a name that started with ‘U’. He followed the lettering. Traced it. No. That wasn’t it either. They must not have it in yet. Or maybe someone had checked it out already. He straightened up–
And right into a body that easily slipped their arm around his waist.
The books tumbled out of his hand. Technically, not the loudest thing to have ever occurred, but in the relative scheme of things, it sounded like he’d just dropped a pair of cymbals onto a metal table.
“Hush, Darling , we’re in a library after all.”
“Prof-Mr-T-Tom!” After the absolute mess of trying to figure out how to address the man, Casper lowered his voice. He felt he should be turning around, but it was kind of hard with the way the man was leaning his chin against Casper’s shoulder and kept his chest pressed to Casper’s back. The best he could do was crane his head to the left. “I didn’t realize you were back.”
“Came in yesterday. Was just in the film archives taking notes.” His breath tickled Casper’s ear. Tom’s arm slid from around Casper, slow and smooth with no hiding how he felt him up. He bent his knees. Didn’t break eye contact as he picked up the fallen books.
Casper tried to swallow. The motion got stuck in his throat as the position brought up memories from the beginning of the summer. Tom used Casper’s elbow to help himself up. It definitely wasn’t necessary. When Casper didn’t automatically take the books back, Tom guided Casper’s hand. He turned his wrist, palm up, before placing the books on them. Thankfully, Casper managed to keep them balanced and didn’t just drop them again.
Tom pulled at a hair that had gotten caught in his sweater. His fingers lingered. “Hopefully we’ll see more of each other than we did last semester. Yes?”
“Um-yes! I mean. Possibly. Yes.” Had that sounded overeager? Casper hadn’t meant it to. He was just so caught off guard here.
Tom’s smile morphed into something more. “Enjoy your books.”
And with that, the film professor turned like he hadn’t just felt up Casper in the middle of the 500s section. Casper quickly brushed his shirt down like somehow that would hide the blush in his cheeks.
Casper didn’t purposefully keep people at arm’s length.
Sometimes it happened accidentally. He might start rambling about his work or his ongoing studies. Using too much jargon to the point where he completely lost the listener if not among peers. He was better at avoiding that problem when teaching, but in social situations, his mouth and mind could easily run away from him. He couldn’t help that he loved his area of study and instinctively over explained any detail he thought necessary.
Most of his colleagues would have described him as pleasant. The faculty, specifically in the College of Sciences and Mathematics, seemed to enjoy his company. Yet despite being there for over two years now, he didn’t consider a single one of them a friend. Especially not a close friend.
He just was never around when it wasn’t absolutely required and work related. He never offered much up on his personal life either. It wasn’t that he didn’t have one. He enjoyed music. Collected old, outdated technology. Had been known to mess around in a karaoke bar from time to time and had partied plenty in his younger years. He worked out. Took runs almost every other day. Read in his free time. And not all scientific journals. Even he sometimes needed to decompress his brain. There were other topics he could talk about with his peers. Share experiences with when they offered up their own.
He just didn’t. He didn’t really need it. He wasn’t looking for relationships of any kind.
But as his second full year had come to a close, he’d been convinced to finally attend one of the more social, faculty events.
That had been at the beginning of summer.
It was there that Casper Darling had met Thomas Zane.
Zane had started that January. Casper had barely been aware of him. He didn’t pay attention to much news in other colleges. Zane hadn’t been invited to the function. He’d slipped in after leaving whatever event the College of Liberal Arts had been holding that same night. Casper hadn’t asked why Zane had shown up. He still didn’t know if he’d left the other party out of boredom, a dislike for the company, or some other reason. If Casper had been in a clearer head space, he probably would have asked a number of pointed, curious questions. However, Casper wasn’t known to hold his liquor incredibly well and he hadn’t been to any kind of party in some time.
He’d just been deciding he’d had too much to drink and should probably call a cab when Zane had swooped in. Immediately touching and feeling in a way that Casper hadn’t experienced in a long time.
In ways he’d tried not to think about for just over two years. In ways he’d deeply missed and nights alone just didn’t compare with.
For better or worse, he’d taken Zane home.
Call me Tom.
It had been quite a night. One Casper could still remember in plenty of detail despite his inebriated form. In the morning, he’d been trying to ignore the light peaking through the curtains when Tom had stated he couldn’t miss some flight of his. Casper hadn’t been able to remember if Tom had mentioned it the night before. A sudden kiss had quickly followed the words. It hadn’t been like any goodbye kiss Casper had experienced. Long and slow with Tom’s tongue darting out to taste Casper’s lips as he’d pulled back.
And then, he’d been gone.
In the following weeks, Casper had slowly learned just who Thomas Zane was. On the surface, he was an untenured professor who’d taught a handful of classes during the Spring Semester. Two film related ones and a creative writing class. People said he looked a bit like the famous writer who taught American Literature. Some called them twins. Others said they couldn’t really see the resemblance.
A deeper look into the man taught Casper he was an auteur filmmaker. His fame ranged from ‘I think I’ve heard of him’ to ‘He’s a genius’ depending on what circles you were in.
He’d gotten bigger in the States about five years back. Churning out short projects back to back before suddenly disappearing from the media and press. There was a lot of gossip on him. Plenty of theories as to why he’d applied to the university. Most revolved around him needing the money because he’d spent everything he’d made during those successful years. Booze, drugs, women, cars. The stories changed constantly, but they were really only that. Just fictional stories with no factual weight to them as far as Casper could tell. The last thing he learned about Tom was that the man was shooting something new that summer. Hence the flight he’d mentioned to Casper on the morning after and why Casper ended up not seeing him all summer.
Admittedly, Casper had thought a lot about the man near the start of June, but that interest had waned as the weeks had gone on. He’d still had his handful of grad students he was working with and had spent a lot of free time planning for a new level 100 course he’d be teaching in the Fall semester. Sure, it had been a memorable night, but only just a night. A one-night stand. Casper had been drunk. Tom had been looking for…whatever he’d been looking for. Casper had come to terms with the whirlwind moment and had quickly put it behind him.
Or so he’d thought until Tom had cornered him in the library.
It very easily could have been framed as harassment, but Casper wasn’t interested in reporting him or anything. He was more interested in why the hell Tom’s interest in him seemingly hadn’t disappeared despite one drunken conversation and a night of fucking the other’s brains out. He wished he knew what he’d said that had caught Tom’s interest. He remembered where Tom’s tongue had been. He hadn’t a clue what words had left his own lips beforehand. What could have clicked and made Tom say yes to Capser’s slurred, “Come home with me”?
Maybe he could ask Tom. If their next meeting didn’t devolve right into the physical again.
Casper didn’t get a chance to ask his questions during his next interaction with the film professor.
It was still early in the semester. Only a week and a half in now. He was grading quizzes. The type that was just one question but required so much formula work, most answers filled out a whole page. Casper wasn’t unfair. If a step had been performed wrong but later steps had been performed correctly off a wrong piece of information, he’d give the student partial credit. The next quiz he pulled out was just the singular, ending formula though. And it was wrong. He didn’t even have to look at the name to know which student it was from. He’d already warned the young man he needed to show his work. He made a note to pull him into his office later before unfortunately drawing a big, red zero in the corner. He flipped the quiz over. Turned to the next one–
The knock was quick. A wrap of knuckles immediately followed by the door opening. An irritated huff left Casper’s lips. He had an open door policy but always put a sign up when in the middle of something. Just because the student had knocked first didn’t mean it wasn’t rude to push in before getting an answer–
Oh.
It wasn’t a student.
Casper blinked in surprise as Tom closed the door behind him. The office was set up with the desk to the left wall and a bookcase on the backside. Filing cabinets were to the right. A spare chair was against the wall. Casper usually pulled it up next to his desk when he was expecting company and planning to go over something with a student. Tom took the chair and pulled it up far closer than Casper normally would have. Their knees knocked together.
“What has you locked away on such a beautiful afternoon?” mused Tom.
“Well-uh, I’m grading. Quizzes that is. For one of my intermediary courses.”
“How dull.” He spoke with a sad sigh, like he felt bad on Capser’s behalf. Even though there was no reason for that.
“It’s not really.”
Tom raised his brow. Cocked his head to the side in a way that allowed an earring to show through his mess of hair. A sparkle of dangling gold in the dark waves.
“It’s not,” Casper repeated. Then, because a) this was awkward and b) he couldn’t help himself, he started to explain. “It’s constant acceleration in two dimensions. A tricky question considering the parameters I’ve given them. Even when a student gets a question wrong, you can still learn something about them though. How they think. How they tackle a problem in their own unique way. It makes it easier for me to try and explain it to them in a way that makes sense. In this scenario, the acceleration is constant in magnitude and direction, but the velocity and acceleration doesn’t necessarily have to be directed along one and the same line.” Once he started, he just kept going. Automatically falling back on the lecture he’d given only a few days ago on the subject mixed with his own personal thoughts. His eyes focused on the current quiz he had out. He used the woman’s work as an example. She’d solved it correctly too, which helped. He was only about halfway through explaining it when he felt a finger under his chin. The slight pressure urged Casper to look up again as he stopped mid sentence. His glasses had slid somewhat down his nose. Tom dragged his nail across Casper’s skin and beard before turning around and pushing the glasses back into place. His finger moved from the bridge of plastic to the bridge of Casper’s nose. As Tom slowly dragged his finger down rather than simply moving his hand away, he spoke.
“Your formulas sound like poetry.”
“Heh. That’s-really?” He’d almost called it stupid. Silly. A part of him still wanted to. Pfft, poetry? Who spoke like that? This was calculus-based physics.
“You’re interpreting reality through symbols. I’d say it’s almost one and the same.” Tom’s fingers left Casper’s face only to travel down his neck. He pushed down on his shirt collar. Rested his painted nails in the hollow of Casper’s throat. “You’re beginning to make me wonder if you’ve thought about me at all.”
“I haven’t.” Casper’s deadpan response had Tom laughing. Casper tried to backpedal. “I mean…it was a very busy summer.”
“I’m sure. But now?”
Casper swallowed. He felt the slight pressure caused by Tom’s fingers. “I’d have to be blind or completely uninterested if I wasn’t thinking about you now.”
“Well, you did speak such pretty words on Cartesian coordinate systems.” He actually remembered some of what Casper had been rambling on about? “I wasn’t sure if your mind was still on your quizzes.”
It absolutely was not.
The thing was, maybe Casper did keep people at arm’s length. On purpose. A thinly veiled attempt that if he avoided forming friendships, there’d be less of a chance of a deeper relationship coming from the bonds. A forced celibacy of really any form of companionship that had been going on for just over two years now. Built on guilt and old memories. An underlying belief that he didn’t deserve to receive anything from anyone.
But that celibacy hadn’t been easy and if the start of the summer had taught him anything, it was that he’d been yearning for something more for a very, very long time. Feelings he’d eventually pushed back with work, only for them to reappear now.
His lips went instinctively slack. His eyes flickering between Tom’s unblinking gaze and the smug smile on his lips. Casper blinked. Eyelashes fluttered as lips met his own. A tongue that didn’t wait for permission. The fingers on his neck massaging the skin there. The groan was pulled from Casper’s lips and into Tom’s mouth. His eyes shut–
But only for a moment. His own wanton noises had him remembering exactly where he was. There wasn’t anything against faculty having relationships, but Casper highly doubted they wouldn’t get in trouble if someone walked in right now. Especially a student.
He spoke against Tom’s lips. Unable to fully pull back-not really wanting to pull back-his breath brushed over skin as he started, “The door–”
“Already locked.”
An almost giddy, giggle left his lips. “And if I’d said no?”
“You weren’t going to.”
“God, you are pres-pre–” The word got caught in his throat. Tom moved from his chair into Casper’s lap.
He wasn’t like this. He’d never done anything so brazen at his old job. Even with how they’d…they’d both–
He did his best to shut down the intrusive thoughts. It actually wasn’t that hard with how Tom grinded against him and ran his fingers through his hair. How he kissed Casper’s upper lip and saliva dripped from his tongue into Casper’s mouth.
A different memory, far more distant and not tinged in regret came to Casper. It reminded him of his senior days of high school and freshman year in college before he started getting serious about his studies. Fumbling behind bleachers and making out at frat parties he got dragged to by his school chums.
Making out in some teacher’s office sounded like something he would have done at age twenty. Not now and in his own office.
Casper’s hands finally started to roam. He gripped Tom’s thigh. Shivered at the almost animalistic growl that left the back of his throat. His other hand grabbed the back of Tom’s neck. Kept his face from constantly moving around so that their lips fully locked again. Despite how forward Tom was, it was clear he enjoyed Casper taking some control too. The man’s hand slipped between them. He palmed Casper’s crotch. Fumbled for his belt.
Casper grabbed Tom’s wrist. Slight, shallow gasps escaped his lips. Tom pulled back enough that Casper could see those blue eyes crinkle. Not disappointed. Just curious.
“Shall we be parting ways then?”
Casper’s stomach curled. His body felt hot and heavy in his chair. He yearned for Tom to touch him again. “N-No. Just…there’s not much–”
Tom pushed off. The pressure left Casper’s lap. He watched the man go to his knees. A voice like honey curled from his lips as he whispered, “If it’s a mess you’re worried about, I’m excellent at cleaning those up.”
The words had Casper’s breath getting caught in his throat. He shuddered as Tom touched him again. He didn’t grab his wrist this time. Instead, his fingers found themselves tangled in Tom’s hair. So wild and untamed but still so very, very soft. Did he tangle it up himself? Fluff it out into a perfectly wild mess? Was he pretentious enough to do so? It was hard to say. He really knew very, very little about the man.
Except his fingers were wonderful.
And his lips were even more wonderful.
Casper’s head rolled back. His eyes slipped shut again. Lost in the sensation of lips on his cock. He tugged at Tom’s hair. Eager for him to pick up the pace. The vibration that traveled from Tom’s throat had Casper’s toes curling. He choked back a gasp. Did his best to not get too loud. The door may have been locked and the concrete walls thick, but that still didn’t mean it wasn’t possible someone might overhear.
It was like Tom could tell he was trying to be quiet and responded in turn. Bobbed his head in slower motions. Sucked slow and long in ways that had Casper’s stomach cramping from how wound up his muscles were. He tugged harder on Tom’s hair. Let out a desperate breath as Tom finally moved faster. His tongue lapping at the tip of Casper’s cock before taking him fully in his mouth again. He jerked into Tom’s mouth. Shuddered as he felt Tom’s throat constrict. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he painfully forced himself to stay quiet as he came down Tom’s throat. Tom’s tongue licked him clean. When Casper finally rolled his head forward again and opened his eyes, Tom licked his lips too. Casper’s entire body twitched. He shivered as Tom tidied him up. He half expected another forward motion. For Tom to return to his lap. Kiss him again as Casper came undone from overstimulation. Take Casper’s hands and guide them to wherever he wished like how he’d guided the small stack of books into Casper’s palm.
Instead, he stepped away. Another smile that was somehow endearing, wild, seductive, and mischievous all in one go. “To part again is such sweet pain.”
“W-Wait. But what about–”
“You can take care of me later, Darling .” Tom winked. He backed up and unlocked the door. “Perhaps in a location where you’ll let me hear you.”
And with that, Tom was gone again. Just like the morning after. Just like the library. Just like that. It only confused Casper more. It was hard to really worry as he stayed slumped in his chair still high on endorphins though. Somehow, it felt like going on a morning run wore him out less than that.
He’d completely forgotten that he and Emily were supposed to have their one on one meeting after he’d finished grading the quizzes. He quickly changed their meeting location from his office to right outside the College of Sciences and Mathematics.
“Is there a reason we’re outside today, Dr. Darling?”
“Oh, you know. It’s just such a nice day and you know-felt like a change.”
“Right.” She blinked. “Your bowtie is crooked.”
He rushed to fix it. “Anyways,” he desperately said, hoping Emily’s careful eye couldn’t pick up on anything else, “before we get started going over your current case study, I wanted to let you know I’ve picked you for my TA position. If you still want it. Of course.”
At least the mention of that successfully kept the conversation from going back to any other wrinkles in his appearance.