Not the terrifying idealization he’d known as a boy.
Cranky, stubborn Fox himself, who didn’t seem to know what to do with himself when someone asked him to just be a person instead of an authority figure.
He was so much more than that, to Summer.
He was sweet, in his own quiet ways. Much more easily flustered than he let on. Awkward, but he hid it behind an intellect that could be terrifying in its incisiveness, used to create a defensive barrier that protected him from others. Quiet. Thoughtful. Sometimes so absorbed in whatever was going through his mind that he was as bad as Dr. Liu, if not as destructive—forgetting his papers in the classroom, forgetting to charge his phone.
And he made Summer feel...
Like he could be something more than this frightened thing he was.
Knowing that Fox had come to the States and felt like he hadn’t fit in, and yet still had managed to survive and become someone others respected, admired, even if they also feared him a little...
It told Summer he could do it, too.
That he could find a place for himself.
That place right now, though, should probably be in Fox’s office, reviewing homework assignments to get ahead of schedule.
He had a feeling that no matter how deeply, how hotly Fox had loved his body last night...
There was no way in hell he’d go easy on Summer in the office.
Grinning to himself, practically bouncing to the beat of his heart, he rolled over and caught up the scrap of neatly folded paper left on Fox’s side of the bed, flicking it open with his thumb.
Faculty meeting this morning. Nothing interesting.
Sleep in.
I left breakfast in the oven for you.
Terse words in Fox’s sharp, slashing handwriting, but with a subtle touch of...something, something that made Summer’s heart beat faster still.
If he didn’t calm down before class, the boys were going to give him hell.
He rolled out of bed, nearly tripped over the over-long hems of his borrowed pajama pants, and padded into the kitchen to peer into the oven—where a thickly piled panini oozing with cheese and bits of egg waited, left to keep warm on low heat. Grinning to himself, he pulled on a pair of oven mitts and tugged it out, transferring it to a plate and settling in to enjoy his breakfast with that hope inside him burning brighter than ever.
It was one thing for Fox to feel enough attraction to fuck him.
But if he actually liked him enough to feed him, Summer just might have a real chance.
Fox wasn’t sure what he was expecting, when he escaped another interminably dull staff meeting and returned to his office.
He had expected to find Summer waiting.
He hadn’t expected to find Summer sitting in Fox’s chair, rather than the chair he usually claimed opposite the desk.
When Fox opened the door, for a moment he halted on the threshold; Summer stopped moving in quiet freeze-frame, not even breathing, his gaze darting up.
They stared at each other for several frozen seconds, Fox’s heart an odd and light thing in his chest.
Before Summer smiled, breaking the silence and shifting to rise out of the seat.
“Sorry,” he said, soft and almost embarrassed, as he edged to one side. “I... I wanted to...”
“Don’t,” Fox said dryly, rounding the desk and settling into his chair. “If you say something ridiculously sentimental, you’re working out in the hall today.”
“...I’m still going to think it.”
“I can’t control your thoughts,” Fox pointed out, settling his satchel on the desk next to a stack of papers. “But I can ask you not to embarrass yourse—”
He broke off.
Because he suddenly had a lap full of young man, Summer’s body settling warm across his thighs, weight quite pleasingly heavy and body heat washing over him in a liquid wave. Summer’s arms slipped around his neck, and the tip of Summer’s nose brushed Fox’s as that shy, almost coy smile returned.
“Not saying anything,” Summer whispered. “Is this still embarrassing?”
“Quite,” Fox grumbled...and settled his hands on Summer’s waist, soaking that warmth into his palms. “We cannot possibly work like this.”
“Sure we can.”
Summer shifted against him—and Fox found himself entirely and suddenly far too distracted, as trim hips and the taut muscle of his bottom dragged against Fox’s lap. He still felt...raw. Sensitive, as if the nerves controlling arousal had temporarily died only to flare to life in shocking intensity, far too real after years without...and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, dropping his hands to grip at the arms of the chair as Summer wriggled his way between Fox’s thighs and settled perched on the chair between his legs, leaning his back against Fox’s chest.
“There,” Summer said, looking over his shoulder at Fox with his eyes glittering, his cheeks faintly flushed. “Now we can both use the desk.”
Fox eyed him. “...how, exactly, are we supposed to work on simultaneous tasks like this?”
He lifted his hips, rocking them rather pointedly into Summer, letting him feel exactly the damnable effect he had on Fox—and Summer caught a quiet breath, before exhaling in a soft moan.
“Ah... F-Fox, I...” He took a deep breath. “Maybe I didn’t...quite think this through...”
“That seems to be a hallmark of many of your life decisions, yes.”
“Ouch.” But Summer was still smiling, still flushed, even as he leaned away from Fox with ginger, careful movements that still couldn’t stop how their bodies slid together, nestled as they were. He dragged over the open course gradebook he’d been reviewing, before snuggling back into Fox. “But I actually needed your help with this...so we can look at it together?”
The soft note of entreaty in Summer’s voice made Fox sigh.
Because he already knew damned well that he would do whatever Summer asked, even if it meant working in this highly compromising position.
“What were you looking at?” he asked, ignoring the tight, pulling sensation in his cock and instead settling his arms around Summer’s waist, resting his chin to his shoulder. “Show me.”
He couldn’t miss the pleased tinge to Summer’s smile,
