It had been a long time since giving a lecture felt this excruciating.

Elliot Vaughn leaned against the lectern for what had to be the fifteenth time in the past quarter hour and let out a heavy sigh. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t obvious - and that no one would guess the real reason behind his behavior.

Occasionally, he tried to pace back and forth like he usually did, but it was a struggle. The only thing helping him maintain some dignity was the tall desk that obscured most of his lower body. He shoved his hands into his pockets and grimaced.

“If the debtor is responsible for the deficiencies in the object of performance…”

Why does this always happen at the worst time possible? he muttered internally, reciting the material by rote.

“…then the creditor bears no such obligation.”

He took another few steps, wobbling slightly.

“The donee’s obligation to refuse the gift…”

“…is…”

“Second basis. The donee uses the gifted item in such a way that it creates a threat of irreversible loss.”

“We’re talking about an item that may possess significant…”

When the lecture finally ended, Elliot managed to maintain a semblance of dignity as he walked to the department office. Hands still in his pockets, pants slightly puffed out to conceal the problem, he restrained himself from sprinting down the hallway like a student late for class.

Good thing the office is on the same floor, he thought as he stepped into the sanctuary of familiar walls.

He slammed the door behind him, no longer trying to hide his state. Julian Mercer looked up from his notes at the noise, smiling broadly.

“How was the lecture?” Julian asked cheerfully.

Elliot loomed over him in an instant, planting his hands on either side of Julian’s chair.

“What the hell are you grinning at?” he hissed.

Julian didn’t flinch.

“Oh, I can only imagine how that went. Pity I missed it. What year was it—third?”

“Third,” Elliot growled, nostrils flaring.

“Right. All grown-up boys.”

“And girls,” Elliot snapped pointedly.

Julian paled a little, but didn’t drop the smile.

“Oh. Yeah. All those short skirts… You’re making me blush.”

“One more word and I’ll put you in a short skirt,” Elliot snarled, his hands twitching like he was restraining himself from throttling the man.

“Pervert,” Julian whistled, low and amused.

“Oh please, and you’re not?” Elliot dropped one hand right into Julian’s lap.

Julian choked on air, finally losing his smirk.

“You’re a bastard,” Elliot muttered, glaring down at him. “You got me hard and sent me off to lecture. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Julian let out a breath. “Yeah, okay, guilty—but don’t do that with your hand.”

“Do what?” Elliot asked, repeating the motion.

“That. That exactly,” Julian said quickly, nodding, no longer smiling and possibly a little panicked.

“Just like this?” Elliot did it again.

“Yes! For fuck’s sake, stop!”

“Not a chance,” Elliot replied, mood visibly improving.

“Oh no you don’t—” Julian growled, grabbing Elliot by the collar and pulling him down into a kiss.

Elliot kissed back at first but suddenly snapped out of it and pushed him away.

“Lock the damn door, idiot!”

“No one’s coming in.”

“No one? At all?”

“Everyone’s gone. Last classes were ours.”

“Well then,” Elliot muttered, leaning back into the kiss. “What’ve you got next?” he asked after a moment, between breaths.

“Nothing,” Mercer grinned. “But you’ve still got that seminar, if I recall correctly…”

“Shit!” Elliot yelped. “You son of a—”

“Oh, what’s this? Are you turned on again? How inconvenient.”

“Stop smiling like that.”

“Why? Is it annoying?”

“It’s infuriating,” Elliot growled, then kissed him again, hard, like he wanted to wipe that smug look off Julian’s face once and for all.