"This can't go on, Elliot. Elliot! Are you even listening to me?!"

"Mm-hm, I'm all ears," Elliot murmured, getting more comfortable against Julian’s shoulder, still buried in his newspaper. "You should switch colognes—this one doesn’t suit you. And quit smoking. One day you’ll forget to put it out, it’ll catch the sheets, and we’ll go up in flames."

He gave a humorless chuckle.

"Pff... I thought you taught civil law, not fire safety."

"Mhm... Law professor... You’re one too, you know..." Elliot slid an arm around Julian’s waist, pulling him closer.

"Elliot, stop it!" Julian squirmed and finally broke free from the semi-conscious, newspaper-absorbed Vaughn.

"You really shouldn't protest so much," Elliot noted with a grin. "I do deserve some respect and obedience. After all, I am your academic advisor."

"Oh, great. That makes it sound like I slept my way to my thesis."

"Right - threw yourself onto the barricades, groin-first into enemy territory," Elliot teased.

To be fair, during Julian’s student years, the slightly older Vaughn had barely noticed him. He once even forgot Julian was writing his dissertation under him—he’d been far too preoccupied with his chaotic personal life.

"Some advisor you were," Julian muttered. "And just what exactly are you 'advising' now?"

"Now?" Elliot gave the rumpled bed a drowsy glance. It made their activities crystal clear. "Well, clearly - you."

"Hilarious."

"Quit smoking."

"Nope. I’m not a student anymore, and you’re not my professor."

"Oh, but I still am. And in the last two hours? Very much your professor. So no complaints."

"Fine. My professor," Julian relented, falling for the bait. "You actually did a decent job the past two hours. So good, I can’t even remember what I learned."

"Mmm..." Elliot squinted, trying to recall what he’d gone over with his students in the last seminar. "Uh... Contract law...?"

Julian gave him a look and stifled a laugh. Elliot realized the blunder and scrambled to salvage it, but Julian broke first, cracking up:

"More like contraception law."

Elliot grimaced in mock offense.

"No, no - I stand by it. Contract law," he said defensively, before catching sight of the damp bedsheet. Holding it up, he smirked. "Tell me - would you call this a force of nature?"

Julian turned scarlet.

"Give me that!" he snapped, yanking the sheet out of his lover’s hands.

"Aw, look who’s shy," Elliot teased.

But Julian shifted away.

"Julian, come on. Stop it." Elliot scooted over and wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing the back of his neck. "Tell me. What was it you were saying couldn’t go on?"

"Forget it. I changed my mind. It’s fine."

"What wasn’t fine?"

"We’ll talk about it another time, okay?"

"Okay," Elliot agreed softly. "We’ll talk about it another time. When we’re... less busy."

"But we’re not bu…"

"I beg to differ," Elliot murmured with a wicked grin.

Julian let him pull him into another kiss, the kind with consequences. He gave in again. He just didn’t have the strength yet.

So, once again, the conversation about Elliot’s wife would have to wait.