Fic: Decirme Cosas Sucias / Talk Dirty to Me
Title: Decirme Cosas Sucias / Talk Dirty to Me
Author: tawg
Recipient: darkwords_ifind
Word Count: ~2,500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings Porn. Explicit, shameless, teacher/student porn.
Summary: For some reason, their tutoring sessions aren’t really helping Finn’s grades.
Notes: I didn’t follow a single prompt you gave me, but I did take the idea of aggressive, red-blooded Finn and ran with it.
Also, there is some Spanish scattered throughout this fic. To make things easy, I have the translations here.
“Please,” Finn said, his eyes wide. “Please, just one lesson, please. I’m failing, you know I’m failing and I just... I need this grade, Mr Schue.”
And Will watched Finn warily, but it hurt him to do it, Finn knew that. “Finn,” he sighed. “Look, after last time-”
“Please?” Finn said again. He would have gotten on his knees. “I won’t... I’m sorry, I really am. But I just, I can’t do this.”
And Will had given him a long, searching look. “Alright. Just one tutoring session. At the school.”
“Thank you,” Finn said, relief flooding through him. “Gracias.”
*
Finn always has to beg for the tutoring, sessions that slide later and later into the afternoon. Slide like Finn’s hand along Mr Schue’s thigh. It always starts out with the best of intentions, with the most proper of boundaries. But two heads bend over one book, and shoulders touch, and there will always come that moment when Mr Schue will pause, will falter, and Finn will take that moment and run with it as far as he can. A press of lips against the side of a mouth, trailing down to the angle of a jaw just starting to prickle with the day’s stubble. The shift of a hand so that the backs of fingers trail across the side of a torso, trail down the lines of Will’s stomach, a touch so slow and exploratory that it could never pass as innocent.
And no matter how often or how intently Will gives Finn that look, the look that says that everything they are doing is wrong, that says that Finn is too young, and Will is his teacher, the look that wants to remind them both of the pretty blondes they have waiting for them. No matter how they start out, or how innocent they may intend to be, it always ends up the same way. Finn’s hand cupping Will through his jeans, Will on his knees licking dirty wet stripes along the length of Finn’s cock, Finn pressing forwards and demanding more and wanting and taking, and his Spanish teacher loving the mix of dirty and hot and wrong despite his most adamant protestations.
Finn has his hands curled in Mr Schue’s, in Will’s hair. Both hands pulling and tugging and angling his head just so, pulled right back with the skin of his throat pulled tight, his head tipped right back so Finn can kiss him ferociously, plundering his mouth and biting at those lips, those amazing lips as he grinds his hips against Will, his cock pressing hard against Will’s taut stomach, Will pressed hard against a bench, being bent backwards over it in aching increments as Finn kisses him hard enough to leave both of them breathless. As Finn fucking claims him.
Finn reaches down with both hands and grabs the hem of Will’s tee, pulling it up and over his head and back, leaving the material bunched around his biceps, restricting his arms and pinning them behind his back as Finn runs his hands over his teacher’s chest, as he thumbs a nipple, twisting his thumb to the side and scraping his thumbnail over that hard pink bud of flesh, a hard graze of pain that makes Will’s hips jerk, that drags a desperate animal noise from the back of Will’s throat out over his tongue, leaving it hanging over lips that are red and swollen from kisses and teeth, lips that part automatically when Finn presses his own mouth against them, a wet and dirty kiss that turns a keening whine into a moan, low and deep and dirty, and Finn can hear the creak of fabric and stitching as Will strains against the material bunched awkwardly just above his elbows, and he tries to reach his arms up and grab hold of Finn in turn.
One of Finn’s hands settles at the front of Will’s pants, tugging his belt loose of its buckle with practiced fingers, thumbing open Will’s jeans as his other hand slides up over his teacher’s chest, curving over the defined lines of his shoulder, fingers gripping the muscle and digging into the flesh. Finn pulls his mouth away from Will’s, kissing and biting down over the other man’s cheek, along the line of his jaw, biting the tight warm skin below his ear as Will tilts his head back, as he arches his body, grinding against Finn’s stomach, spreading his legs wide in tight jeans and giving Finn access to that plethora of hot flesh and begging lines and hungry muscle. Giving Finn everything as his fingers scrabble over the classroom bench, strewn with posters and assignments and all of the other symbols of responsibility spilling to the floor around them.
Finn bites down on the soft hot tight skin below Will’s ear, his teeth imprinting the skin and his mouth bruising, and Will twists and arches against him, hot gasping pants falling from his mouth, one leg wrapping around Finn’s waist and holding tight, Will arching up and grinding against Finn and against the hand that is sitting warm and patient against Will’s thigh.
Finn pulls his mouth away from Will’s neck, leaving a dark and angry bruise behind on that pale and sharp-tasting skin, lifting his head up just enough to nuzzle at Will’s ear, catching the lobe between gentle lips, his hot moist mouth ghosting over the side of Will’s face.
“Me vuelves loco,” Finn says, low and rumbling, and Will’s breath stutters for a moment as Finn slides his hand inside Will’s pants, wrapping around the heat and the hardness, gripping it tight enough to hurt and giving the flesh one slow, deliberate stroke. “Loco, loco.”
And Will, Will groans and slumps back, his shoulders resting against the classroom wall, his teeth white and straight and biting into his bottom lip, his eyes squeezed shut as he rolls his hips, pressing up and needing wanting asking for more, a rise and fall of flesh that would be fucking into Finn’s hand if only he let it be.
“Tu eres muy sexy,” Finn says, pulling Will’s cock free of his shorts, pressing the tangle of jeans and underwear as far down his teacher’s thighs as possible with his legs still spread wide, still wrapped around Finn, an anchor allowing Will to thrust and arch and writhe. Finn places a broad hand on Will’s chest, palm over muscle and a thrumming heart beat, holding him in place while his other hand twists and slides, another slow, patient jerk. “Necesito sentirte,” he murmurs, leaning in again to press his lips against Will’s, against the place where teeth are biting lip, pulling away just as Will’s lips part, full and wanting.
Finn takes a step back, hooking his hands under Will’s knees and pulling his legs up, guiding his feet to rest on Finn’s hips. He slides his hands up Will’s thighs, feeling the muscle and the skin and the warmth, shifting Will’s pants further out of the way, reaching down to feel the tasty curve of Will’s ass.
“So good,” he says as he palms the flesh, as he gropes and grasps and as Will’s mouth falls open, wet and pink and wanting.
“Se siente tan bien,” Will corrects, his voice rough and wrecked as Finn slides a hand around, his thumb pressing against the tight pucker of skin, making Will writhe.
Finn reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a little foil sachet of lube. He holds it up, and waits until Will’s eyes are locked onto it. He tears it open and squeezes some out onto his finger.
“Se siente tan bien,” he repeats as he reaches down between their bodies, and circles Will’s opening with one intent, slick finger. He presses inside, slowly and firmly, his eyes roving hungrily over Will’s body as his teacher arches, as he angles his hips to make the press a little easier. Finn pulls his finger back almost to the tip, and thrusts it in again right up to the knuckle, rough and dirty and every push pulling a dirty little noise from the back of Will’s throat, every push painting a pink flush across his cheeks and down across his chest.
“Quiero hacerte el amor,” Finn says, pressing another finger inside Will, making him groan and bite down on his bruised and abused bottom lip again, though whether it’s from the words tumbling strong and dark from Finn’s mouth or the fingers pushing into him, Finn isn’t sure.
Finn fucks his fingers into Will’s body, into that hot and tight place, crooking his fingers and stroking until he finds that soft secret little place, until he makes Will cry out, and curl his hands into fists, his fingernails catching on coloured paper scattered across the bench and tearing it as Finn presses deep, and hard, and wanting. Finn presses another finger into Will, three fingers stretching and fucking, and Will is making tight, desperate little noises.
“Te quiero cogerle,” Finn says, his voice rough and his dick hard. Will moans, and lifts his hips, twisting and fucking himself down on Finn’s fingers. Finn tugs his jeans open with one hand, pulling his cock out and smearing it with lube from that little leaking packet, his movements a little clumsy as he watches Will writhe and moan, bound in his own clothes and oh so desperate.
“Te quiero a le gusta que le dan candela por el culo,” Finn says as he slides his fingers free, stumbling over the words, knowing in his head that he doesn’t have it quite right. He strokes his fingers over Will’s opening, playing with the slick, loosened muscle, loving the way the lightest touch makes Will’s hips twitch.
“Te quiero a dan candela por el culo,” Finn tries again, pulling Will’s pants down to his ankles and then ducking into the circle of his legs, lining his hard cock up with Will’s hot opening, enjoying that moment of anticipation with Will holding his body taut and Finn’s cock leaking against Will’s flesh, and both of them holding their breath...
And then Finn is pressing forwards, pressing in, and it is so hot and so tight and the feeling of it, of being swallowed up and taken in and fucked out is curling through his stomach and up his spine, strangling his brain. He doesn’t... There’s nothing. Nothing but this moment, and the two of them, and the slow slow slide of his dick, filling Will up, filling the both of them up with how good it feels, with how crazily and perfectly hot and dirty it was, fucking into his teacher on the bench next to the door of the Spanish room.
“Te quiero,” Finn pants, leaning forwards and kissing Will hard, kissing him rough and messy and trying to distract himself just for a moment from the way every cell in his body is screaming at him to move, to just move already. And Will arches up to meet him, struggling to hold himself up with his hands pinned behind his back, his legs tightening around Finn’s waist. For a long moment they hold still, foreheads pressed together and bodies beading with sweat, Will’s cock pressing up against Finn’s stomach, their breath coming out in pants, mingling together in front of their faces.
And then Finn starts to move. Rolling his hips, deep, filling strokes, his forearms resting either side of Will’s torso and his forehead falling and pressing against Will’s collarbone. When Finn turns his head to the side he can see sweat pooling in the little notch between Will’s clavicles, and he stretches his tongue out to lick at the salty mess. He shifts his feet, planting them wider, making his thrusts longer, harder, hitting home with a slow, easy rhythm, kissing his way over Will’s chest, catching a nipple between his teeth and biting it, rolling the red sensitive flesh, licking the tender area, making Will’s breath hitch and stutter.
He pulls back, planting his hands on Will’s hips, holding him in place, thrusting harder now. Long rough strokes and Will is arching beneath him, gasping and moaning and biting at his lip, trying to be quiet. “Te quiero,” Finn says again, wrapping a hand around Will’s cock, holding it thick and heavy in his hand, stretching his thumb out to catch the precome pearling at the tip, to smear it over the flushed head and painting the slickness down the underside of Will’s cock, over that little knot of tissue that makes Will’s dick jerk in his hand. “Te quiero,” Finn says as he strokes Will’s cock with stuttering, out of time strokes. A pathetic counterpoint to the constant shift of his hips, a mess of tugging and jerking and twisting fingers and Will is going crazy beneath him, his knees gripping Finn’s side, his stomach muscles jumping under his skin as he twists and arches, fucking himself down onto Finn’s cock, making each thrust harder and deeper and that sexy kind of rough that will hurt later. Splitting himself open, all for Finn.
“Te quiero,” Finn says again, all he can hang onto except for the primal rutting of body against body, the violent aching grip of his hand on Will’s cock, the stink of sex filling the room. “Te quiero,” he chants. “Te quiero, te quiero, oh, fuck, Will, te quiero.”
“Te deseo,” Will replies, his green eyes dark and his pupils blown and his hair dark with sweat and curling wildly around his face. “Te-”
Finn shakes his head, cutting Will off with a savage kiss, with a brutal jerk of his wrist, making Will arch and moan and cry out, choking an orgasm out of him. “Te quiero,” he moans into sweaty skin, biting the muscle of Will’s shoulder as he fucks into him, hard and rough and his whole body shaking as Will clenches around his cock, as Will makes impossibly sexy noises, low and grinding and torn from his chest. “Te quiero,” he says again, rough and ruined and the sound lost beneath the slap of flesh against flesh, the moan torn from deep inside Finn, and the throbbing aching blessing pain of coming, finally coming with hash shuddering thrusts and Will’s body hot and wet around him.
They stay there for a long moment, bodies glued together with sweat and saliva and come, tangled in their clothes and each other’s limbs. Each waiting for the other to make their move.
Finn stirs first. Lifting himself off Will’s chest, pulling out and pressing down a whine at the feeling of his dick slipping free. He looks up and meets Will’s gaze, his teacher’s face flushed and sweaty. Green eyes and bruised lips and hickeys down one side of his neck. Finn’s cock twitches and he groans high and painful in his throat. But it’s such a fucking sexy image, one that he’s going to carry with him, one to replace every wet dream he’s ever had.
He leans forwards and places a kiss on the tip of Will’s nose, soft and gentle. “Te quiero,” he whispers, one last time, and then he pulls away.
Author: tawg
Recipient: darkwords_ifind
Word Count: ~2,500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings Porn. Explicit, shameless, teacher/student porn.
Summary: For some reason, their tutoring sessions aren’t really helping Finn’s grades.
Notes: I didn’t follow a single prompt you gave me, but I did take the idea of aggressive, red-blooded Finn and ran with it.
Also, there is some Spanish scattered throughout this fic. To make things easy, I have the translations here.
“Please,” Finn said, his eyes wide. “Please, just one lesson, please. I’m failing, you know I’m failing and I just... I need this grade, Mr Schue.”
And Will watched Finn warily, but it hurt him to do it, Finn knew that. “Finn,” he sighed. “Look, after last time-”
“Please?” Finn said again. He would have gotten on his knees. “I won’t... I’m sorry, I really am. But I just, I can’t do this.”
And Will had given him a long, searching look. “Alright. Just one tutoring session. At the school.”
“Thank you,” Finn said, relief flooding through him. “Gracias.”
*
Finn always has to beg for the tutoring, sessions that slide later and later into the afternoon. Slide like Finn’s hand along Mr Schue’s thigh. It always starts out with the best of intentions, with the most proper of boundaries. But two heads bend over one book, and shoulders touch, and there will always come that moment when Mr Schue will pause, will falter, and Finn will take that moment and run with it as far as he can. A press of lips against the side of a mouth, trailing down to the angle of a jaw just starting to prickle with the day’s stubble. The shift of a hand so that the backs of fingers trail across the side of a torso, trail down the lines of Will’s stomach, a touch so slow and exploratory that it could never pass as innocent.
And no matter how often or how intently Will gives Finn that look, the look that says that everything they are doing is wrong, that says that Finn is too young, and Will is his teacher, the look that wants to remind them both of the pretty blondes they have waiting for them. No matter how they start out, or how innocent they may intend to be, it always ends up the same way. Finn’s hand cupping Will through his jeans, Will on his knees licking dirty wet stripes along the length of Finn’s cock, Finn pressing forwards and demanding more and wanting and taking, and his Spanish teacher loving the mix of dirty and hot and wrong despite his most adamant protestations.
Finn has his hands curled in Mr Schue’s, in Will’s hair. Both hands pulling and tugging and angling his head just so, pulled right back with the skin of his throat pulled tight, his head tipped right back so Finn can kiss him ferociously, plundering his mouth and biting at those lips, those amazing lips as he grinds his hips against Will, his cock pressing hard against Will’s taut stomach, Will pressed hard against a bench, being bent backwards over it in aching increments as Finn kisses him hard enough to leave both of them breathless. As Finn fucking claims him.
Finn reaches down with both hands and grabs the hem of Will’s tee, pulling it up and over his head and back, leaving the material bunched around his biceps, restricting his arms and pinning them behind his back as Finn runs his hands over his teacher’s chest, as he thumbs a nipple, twisting his thumb to the side and scraping his thumbnail over that hard pink bud of flesh, a hard graze of pain that makes Will’s hips jerk, that drags a desperate animal noise from the back of Will’s throat out over his tongue, leaving it hanging over lips that are red and swollen from kisses and teeth, lips that part automatically when Finn presses his own mouth against them, a wet and dirty kiss that turns a keening whine into a moan, low and deep and dirty, and Finn can hear the creak of fabric and stitching as Will strains against the material bunched awkwardly just above his elbows, and he tries to reach his arms up and grab hold of Finn in turn.
One of Finn’s hands settles at the front of Will’s pants, tugging his belt loose of its buckle with practiced fingers, thumbing open Will’s jeans as his other hand slides up over his teacher’s chest, curving over the defined lines of his shoulder, fingers gripping the muscle and digging into the flesh. Finn pulls his mouth away from Will’s, kissing and biting down over the other man’s cheek, along the line of his jaw, biting the tight warm skin below his ear as Will tilts his head back, as he arches his body, grinding against Finn’s stomach, spreading his legs wide in tight jeans and giving Finn access to that plethora of hot flesh and begging lines and hungry muscle. Giving Finn everything as his fingers scrabble over the classroom bench, strewn with posters and assignments and all of the other symbols of responsibility spilling to the floor around them.
Finn bites down on the soft hot tight skin below Will’s ear, his teeth imprinting the skin and his mouth bruising, and Will twists and arches against him, hot gasping pants falling from his mouth, one leg wrapping around Finn’s waist and holding tight, Will arching up and grinding against Finn and against the hand that is sitting warm and patient against Will’s thigh.
Finn pulls his mouth away from Will’s neck, leaving a dark and angry bruise behind on that pale and sharp-tasting skin, lifting his head up just enough to nuzzle at Will’s ear, catching the lobe between gentle lips, his hot moist mouth ghosting over the side of Will’s face.
“Me vuelves loco,” Finn says, low and rumbling, and Will’s breath stutters for a moment as Finn slides his hand inside Will’s pants, wrapping around the heat and the hardness, gripping it tight enough to hurt and giving the flesh one slow, deliberate stroke. “Loco, loco.”
And Will, Will groans and slumps back, his shoulders resting against the classroom wall, his teeth white and straight and biting into his bottom lip, his eyes squeezed shut as he rolls his hips, pressing up and needing wanting asking for more, a rise and fall of flesh that would be fucking into Finn’s hand if only he let it be.
“Tu eres muy sexy,” Finn says, pulling Will’s cock free of his shorts, pressing the tangle of jeans and underwear as far down his teacher’s thighs as possible with his legs still spread wide, still wrapped around Finn, an anchor allowing Will to thrust and arch and writhe. Finn places a broad hand on Will’s chest, palm over muscle and a thrumming heart beat, holding him in place while his other hand twists and slides, another slow, patient jerk. “Necesito sentirte,” he murmurs, leaning in again to press his lips against Will’s, against the place where teeth are biting lip, pulling away just as Will’s lips part, full and wanting.
Finn takes a step back, hooking his hands under Will’s knees and pulling his legs up, guiding his feet to rest on Finn’s hips. He slides his hands up Will’s thighs, feeling the muscle and the skin and the warmth, shifting Will’s pants further out of the way, reaching down to feel the tasty curve of Will’s ass.
“So good,” he says as he palms the flesh, as he gropes and grasps and as Will’s mouth falls open, wet and pink and wanting.
“Se siente tan bien,” Will corrects, his voice rough and wrecked as Finn slides a hand around, his thumb pressing against the tight pucker of skin, making Will writhe.
Finn reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a little foil sachet of lube. He holds it up, and waits until Will’s eyes are locked onto it. He tears it open and squeezes some out onto his finger.
“Se siente tan bien,” he repeats as he reaches down between their bodies, and circles Will’s opening with one intent, slick finger. He presses inside, slowly and firmly, his eyes roving hungrily over Will’s body as his teacher arches, as he angles his hips to make the press a little easier. Finn pulls his finger back almost to the tip, and thrusts it in again right up to the knuckle, rough and dirty and every push pulling a dirty little noise from the back of Will’s throat, every push painting a pink flush across his cheeks and down across his chest.
“Quiero hacerte el amor,” Finn says, pressing another finger inside Will, making him groan and bite down on his bruised and abused bottom lip again, though whether it’s from the words tumbling strong and dark from Finn’s mouth or the fingers pushing into him, Finn isn’t sure.
Finn fucks his fingers into Will’s body, into that hot and tight place, crooking his fingers and stroking until he finds that soft secret little place, until he makes Will cry out, and curl his hands into fists, his fingernails catching on coloured paper scattered across the bench and tearing it as Finn presses deep, and hard, and wanting. Finn presses another finger into Will, three fingers stretching and fucking, and Will is making tight, desperate little noises.
“Te quiero cogerle,” Finn says, his voice rough and his dick hard. Will moans, and lifts his hips, twisting and fucking himself down on Finn’s fingers. Finn tugs his jeans open with one hand, pulling his cock out and smearing it with lube from that little leaking packet, his movements a little clumsy as he watches Will writhe and moan, bound in his own clothes and oh so desperate.
“Te quiero a le gusta que le dan candela por el culo,” Finn says as he slides his fingers free, stumbling over the words, knowing in his head that he doesn’t have it quite right. He strokes his fingers over Will’s opening, playing with the slick, loosened muscle, loving the way the lightest touch makes Will’s hips twitch.
“Te quiero a dan candela por el culo,” Finn tries again, pulling Will’s pants down to his ankles and then ducking into the circle of his legs, lining his hard cock up with Will’s hot opening, enjoying that moment of anticipation with Will holding his body taut and Finn’s cock leaking against Will’s flesh, and both of them holding their breath...
And then Finn is pressing forwards, pressing in, and it is so hot and so tight and the feeling of it, of being swallowed up and taken in and fucked out is curling through his stomach and up his spine, strangling his brain. He doesn’t... There’s nothing. Nothing but this moment, and the two of them, and the slow slow slide of his dick, filling Will up, filling the both of them up with how good it feels, with how crazily and perfectly hot and dirty it was, fucking into his teacher on the bench next to the door of the Spanish room.
“Te quiero,” Finn pants, leaning forwards and kissing Will hard, kissing him rough and messy and trying to distract himself just for a moment from the way every cell in his body is screaming at him to move, to just move already. And Will arches up to meet him, struggling to hold himself up with his hands pinned behind his back, his legs tightening around Finn’s waist. For a long moment they hold still, foreheads pressed together and bodies beading with sweat, Will’s cock pressing up against Finn’s stomach, their breath coming out in pants, mingling together in front of their faces.
And then Finn starts to move. Rolling his hips, deep, filling strokes, his forearms resting either side of Will’s torso and his forehead falling and pressing against Will’s collarbone. When Finn turns his head to the side he can see sweat pooling in the little notch between Will’s clavicles, and he stretches his tongue out to lick at the salty mess. He shifts his feet, planting them wider, making his thrusts longer, harder, hitting home with a slow, easy rhythm, kissing his way over Will’s chest, catching a nipple between his teeth and biting it, rolling the red sensitive flesh, licking the tender area, making Will’s breath hitch and stutter.
He pulls back, planting his hands on Will’s hips, holding him in place, thrusting harder now. Long rough strokes and Will is arching beneath him, gasping and moaning and biting at his lip, trying to be quiet. “Te quiero,” Finn says again, wrapping a hand around Will’s cock, holding it thick and heavy in his hand, stretching his thumb out to catch the precome pearling at the tip, to smear it over the flushed head and painting the slickness down the underside of Will’s cock, over that little knot of tissue that makes Will’s dick jerk in his hand. “Te quiero,” Finn says as he strokes Will’s cock with stuttering, out of time strokes. A pathetic counterpoint to the constant shift of his hips, a mess of tugging and jerking and twisting fingers and Will is going crazy beneath him, his knees gripping Finn’s side, his stomach muscles jumping under his skin as he twists and arches, fucking himself down onto Finn’s cock, making each thrust harder and deeper and that sexy kind of rough that will hurt later. Splitting himself open, all for Finn.
“Te quiero,” Finn says again, all he can hang onto except for the primal rutting of body against body, the violent aching grip of his hand on Will’s cock, the stink of sex filling the room. “Te quiero,” he chants. “Te quiero, te quiero, oh, fuck, Will, te quiero.”
“Te deseo,” Will replies, his green eyes dark and his pupils blown and his hair dark with sweat and curling wildly around his face. “Te-”
Finn shakes his head, cutting Will off with a savage kiss, with a brutal jerk of his wrist, making Will arch and moan and cry out, choking an orgasm out of him. “Te quiero,” he moans into sweaty skin, biting the muscle of Will’s shoulder as he fucks into him, hard and rough and his whole body shaking as Will clenches around his cock, as Will makes impossibly sexy noises, low and grinding and torn from his chest. “Te quiero,” he says again, rough and ruined and the sound lost beneath the slap of flesh against flesh, the moan torn from deep inside Finn, and the throbbing aching blessing pain of coming, finally coming with hash shuddering thrusts and Will’s body hot and wet around him.
They stay there for a long moment, bodies glued together with sweat and saliva and come, tangled in their clothes and each other’s limbs. Each waiting for the other to make their move.
Finn stirs first. Lifting himself off Will’s chest, pulling out and pressing down a whine at the feeling of his dick slipping free. He looks up and meets Will’s gaze, his teacher’s face flushed and sweaty. Green eyes and bruised lips and hickeys down one side of his neck. Finn’s cock twitches and he groans high and painful in his throat. But it’s such a fucking sexy image, one that he’s going to carry with him, one to replace every wet dream he’s ever had.
He leans forwards and places a kiss on the tip of Will’s nose, soft and gentle. “Te quiero,” he whispers, one last time, and then he pulls away.