Running Dry of Bad Excuses Part I
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5K (for this part)
Warnings and kinks: bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, age difference, angst, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, masturbation, obedience, painful sex, teacher/student, underage (Jared is 15, Jensen is late 20s), virginity.
Summary: Jared is a student at an elite private school. Jensen is the headmaster who's taken an interest in him. Cue office sex and a surprising amount of angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jared, Jensen, or anyone else. This is fiction.
This was originally written for this prompt over on the spn kink meme.
"Jared Padalecki is here to see you, sir."
Jensen takes his feet off the desk and sits up straight, carefully arranging his features into a stern almost-frown.
Jared ambles in, that ridiculous hair flopping into his eyes, sheepish half smile on his face. His hands are in his pockets, slender shoulders in that perpetual half-shrug of his. Jensen motions to the chair in front of his rather intimidating mahogany desk. Jared sits and grins up at Jensen hopefully. The grin fades when he doesn't return it. Jensen watches little creases of worry appear on Jared's face, and his fingers twitch, itching to smooth them. Instead, he clears his throat and fixes Jared with his most serious stare, not speaking until he sees a pink flush creeping up Jared's neck and cheeks.
"Again, Mr Padalecki?"
Jensen speaks softly, just above a whisper, and is instantly gratified to see Jared sit up straighter.
"Sir, it wasn't-"
"Did you put a sheep's heart in Mrs Dalbey's desk, Mr Padalecki?"
Jared hangs his head, shoulders slumping, and Jensen's glad, because he's not sure he's winning the fight to keep his lips from twitching into a grin. A sheep's heart. It's exactly something Jensen would have done at Jared's age. He can't exactly go around telling his students that though.
"What do you think would be an appropriate punishment, Mr Padalecki?"
Jared looks up in surprise.
"I get to choose?"
"I didn't say that. I asked you to suggest an appropriate punishment. I will decide if I agree that it is sufficient."
Jared bites his lip, thoughtful. Jensen watches, curious, as the color on Jared’s cheeks deepens. He takes a deep breath before answering, like he’s gathering his courage.
“I could do detention with you, sir.” Jared’s eyes are fixed on the hands fidgeting in his lap as he answers, so he misses Jensen’s briefly widened eyes.
“I don’t usually oversee detention.” Jensen keeps his tone neutral.
“I know. I was thinking, since this isn’t really a regular offense, I shouldn’t just get regular detention.” It’s a paper thin excuse, it barely makes sense, and they both know it. Jared looks like he’s trying to sink through the chair, and Jensen has to suppress another laugh at this skinny, gangly kid making himself smaller.
“I think that’s a reasonable suggestion,” Jensen starts, and Jared’s head snaps up, eyes wide and disbelieving. Jensen continues, “You will come here Friday evening, say, five o’clock? I have a meeting at four, but it should be done by then. You can serve your first detention then.”
Jared starts to nod, then stops. “My first? Are there... Will I be serving more detentions with you?”
Jared looks so hopeful, so young, that Jensen has to smile, just a little, just a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, Mr Padalecki. I think you need to be taught a lesson, and you will serve as many detentions as necessary for that lesson to really... sink in.”
Jared nods slowly, like he’s trying to figure out what Jensen is really saying.
“That will be all, Mr Padalecki.”
Jared’s halfway to the door before he turns back to Jensen.
“Should I bring anything? Homework?”
“That won’t be necessary, I have everything we’ll need right here,” Jensen replies, and that thoughtful look is back on Jared’s face as he walks out the door.
***
Jared’s palms are sweating. Actually, Jared’s pretty sure his everything is sweating. He’s been waiting outside the door to Professor Ackles’ office for eight minutes, and he still has two to go before it’s time to knock. Jared tries to calm his breathing, but it’s impossible to relax. Professor Ackles makes him so nervous, that sharp green stare cutting right through any pretense. Jared’s never been able to lie to the headmaster, not even back in his first year when he and Chad stole the bust of Socrates that sits in the entrance hall. Jared’s inability to deceive Professor Ackles has always worried him, although it seems unlikely that he’d ask Jared outright, “Do you want me to fuck you?” After his last meeting with Ackles, Jared thinks that maybe he already knows anyway.
Jared checks the clock, wipes his palms on his slacks one more time, and knocks.
“Come in.”
Jared does, trying to look like he hasn’t been loitering in front of the door for the past ten minutes. Professor Ackles is, as always, sitting behind his desk, every hair in place. This time, however, the chair that is normally sitting facing the desk has been removed. Jared pauses, uncertain, before walking to stand in the empty spot.
Professor Ackles stands up, and Jared peeks out from under his bangs to see that like everything else about him, Professor Ackles’ clothes are immaculate and orderly. Jared watches him loosen his tie and fold it over the back of his chair before walking around the desk and leaning back against it, arms folded. Jared feels his gaze heavy on him and stands up straighter, hands behind his back. He finally dares a glance up and is met with green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Why did you want to fill your detention with me, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles’ asks, and Jared’s sure he already knows.
“I... I like... I was hoping.... I wanted to see you,” Jared stammers, blushing at how childish he must sound.
“And why did you want to see me?”
“I... I like you.” Jared mumbles, his face burning as he forces himself to meet Professor Ackles’ gaze.
“I see. And how old are you now, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles asks, in a tone of mild interest, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been Jared’s Headmaster for the past five years.
“Fifteen, sir.”
Professor Ackles just hums and pushes up off the desk to walk around Jared. Jared stands perfectly still, holding his breath, feeling like he’s being inspected. He flushes further as he realizes he’s getting hard and has no way to hide it, his pants starting to show his arousal.
Professor Ackles comes back around to stand at Jared’s side, and Jared can just make out the way the Headmaster’s eyes slide down his body, stopping at the now obvious bulge in his pants. Jared closes his eyes and fights the urge to cover himself up.
“Fifteen years old. Tell me, Mr Padalecki, what should I do about a fifteen year old getting hard in my office?” Professor Ackles’ tone hasn’t changed; he’s still speaking in that detached, neutral voice, and for some reason that’s making Jared even harder. He tries to focus on the question, to ignore the pressing need to adjust his pants.
“I... I don’t... I don’t know, sir,” Jared says.
“Are you sure about that?” Professor Ackles is suddenly right in front of Jared. Jared didn’t hear him move, and he opens his eyes to find himself looking up, straight into Professor Ackles’ green ones. He forces his mind back to the conversation, to the question he’s supposed to answer.
“I’m... You could... You could fuck me,” Jared says, immediately dropping his eyes to the ground, certain that any second Professor Ackles is going to laugh at him, going to send him home like this. He can’t believe he actually said it, and he’s about to try and take it back, maybe pretend it was a joke somehow, when Professor Ackles speaks.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” The Headmaster’s lips are less than inch from Jared, and Jared can feel his breath on his skin. He nods, not daring to look up.
***
Jensen wasn’t actually planning on fucking the kid when he agreed to this detention. He just thinks Jared is a sweet, slightly misguided teenage boy who could benefit from a little lesson. Jensen can’t help it if he’s clearly the best person to be teaching that lesson. The lesson itself was going to start with a little fear on Jared’s part; Jensen was just going to make Jared stand there, maybe interrogate him about his misdoings, maybe enjoy watching him squirm. Instead, Jensen finds himself asking Jared if he wants to get fucked. He catches himself, almost decides to put a stop to it there, but Jared gives this little nod, like he’s afraid it’ll get taken away if he shows how badly he wants it, and Jensen feels that pull again.
“That’s not good enough. If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to need to ask. Nicely.”
Jensen decides that’ll do it: if Jared is serious about this, he’ll push himself past whatever’s making him blush like a virgin. If not, he just won’t answer, and Jensen will let it go.
“Please... Please sir... Please fuck me.” Jared’s voice is shaking, but he manages to look up at Jensen as he says it. Through the stab of lust in his belly, Jensen registers that he’s impressed: most of his students can’t meet his eye at the best of times. He rewards Jared with the gentle press of his lips and relishes the gasp Jared lets out, the way Jared’s trembling lips part under his.
Jensen pulls away and Jared tries to follow, but Jensen holds in place with a hand on his chest. Jared gets the message and Jensen walks to his desk, carefully removing a stack of paperwork and the few books. He turns to Jared then, and motions him over. Jared hesitates before stepping around the desk to stand beside Jensen, and Jensen hides his smile. He knows the effect his desk has on his students; Jared’s suddenly much more fidgety now he’s on the wrong side of it.
“Take off your jacket,” Jensen says, loosening his tie. Jared complies, folding the jacket neatly and placing it on the edge of the desk. “Unbutton your shirt.”
Jared does it, shaky hands fumbling. Jensen turns to lock the door, calling over his shoulder, “And your pants.”
When he turns back, Jared’s shirt is hanging open and his pants are unzipped. Jensen can see that Jared’s still hard, and he walks back around to stand behind him and slide one hand into his briefs. Jared gasps again when Jensen’s fingers wrap around his cock, and Jensen strokes him, slowly, once, before pulling his hand out.
“Take off your shirt,” Jensen instructs, and steps back to give Jared room to comply. “Now your shoes.”
Jared takes them off without turning around, carefully placing them beside the desk.
“Pants and socks too.”
Jared folds his clothes neatly, like he’s afraid to make a mess in front of Jensen.
“Underwear.”
Jensen can see the blush deepening on the back of Jared’s neck as he slides his underwear off and adds it to the stack of clothing before turning back to face the desk.
“Hands flat on the desk.”
Jared has to bend a little to do it, and Jensen admires the view. In a couple of years, Jared’s going to be big. At the moment, he’s a little on the skinny side, more wiry than muscular. He’s shorter than Jensen by a couple of inches, but from the size of his hands, Jensen thinks he’ll grow to be taller. Jensen resists the urge to slide a hand down the curve of Jared’s spine, to grip his slender hips and press against him.
“Feet apart,” Jensen says, and the way Jared complies immediately has Jensen’s pulse racing. He’s about to continue when he stops, reminds himself that Jared is fifteen years old, that he needs to make sure.
“You’re absolutely certain you want to do this, Mr Padalecki? You understand that if you say no, you won’t get in trouble for it, and I won’t in any way treat you differently?” Jensen asks, and Jared nods.
“Yes sir. I’m sure.”
“Good. Now bend forward for me.” Jensen watches Jared bend at the waist until his chest is pressed to the desk, folding his hands under his cheek. He looks fragile somehow, small, trying to peer up at Jensen through his bangs.
“Good boy.” Jensen says it softly, reassuring, and finally lets himself touch Jared. He runs his hand up Jared’s back to the back of his neck, smooth skin warm under his hand. Jared’s back arches slightly at the touch, the movement pushing his hips up, and Jensen can barely stop himself from grinding against him.
He leans over to the second drawer from the top and takes out lube and a condom. He puts the condom down on the desk but slicks up his fingers. Jared’s twisting a little, trying to see what Jensen’s doing, and Jensen presses gently on Jared’s cheek with his dry hand.
“Head down.”
Jared lets out a breathy little cry when Jensen’s wet fingers slide down around his hole. Jensen can’t help smoothing his other hand over Jared’s ass, spreading his cheeks further to watch his own fingers on Jared. He circles Jared’s hole a few times before pressing one fingertip in. Jared’s tight, and scorching hot, and Jensen’s hit with another lurch of desire as he feels Jared squeeze around his finger.
Jensen curls and twists his finger, pushing until he finds the spot that makes Jared’s hips buck against the table, makes his slender frame arch and tense. Jensen grins and hits it again and Jared’s moaning, trying to shove back against Jensen. Jensen pulls his finger out and easily holds Jared’s hips down with both hands.
“Hold still.” Jensen keeps his hands there until Jared nods against his hands.
When he pushes back in, this time it’s with two fingers. Jared lets out a tiny groan and it sounds a little like pain. Jensen’s worried for a moment, but the second he finds Jared’s prostate, Jared’s back to moaning. He’s writhing gently, like he’s trying not to move and failing, and Jensen lets it go. He pushes in all the way before pulling out, rubbing against Jared’s hole and pushing slowly back in. Jensen fucks Jared like that, slowly pushing in until he finds his prostate, stopping to rub at it, before pulling back out to repeat the whole maneuver. He scissors his fingers against the tight pull of Jared’s rim before dragging his fingers all the way out and taking out his cock to roll on the condom. Jensen slicks himself and lines up.
He presses the head of his cock against Jared’s hole and waits for Jared to relax into it. He pushes a little harder and Jared shifts almost imperceptibly away. Jensen grabs Jared’s hip with one hand and holds the boy in place before pushing again. Finally, he feels himself start to press inside, and he’s just losing himself in the sensation when he hears Jared whimper. Jensen stops, pulling back slightly, and feels the tremor in Jared’s hip. He glances at Jared’s face and is shocked to see Jared’s eyes are shut tight and he’s biting his lip so hard it’s turning white. Jensen pulls back all the way and rubs his hand up Jared’s back. He follows his hands with his lips, kissing gently up each knob of Jared’s spine to his neck, twisting around to reach Jared’s cheek. Jared’s eyes flutter open, and Jensen’s met a startled hazel gaze.
“Are you okay?” Jensen asks, and Jared nods, eyes not leaving Jensen’s.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
Jared looks embarrassed, but he can’t look away; Jensen’s covering him completely and he can’t even turn his head.
“I’m... I’ve never...” Jared’s whisper trails off as he closes his eyes, cheeks darkening.
“You’re a virgin?” Jensen tries to keep the shock out of his voice. Jared always seemed to flirt, he was the one to suggest one-on-one detention with Jensen in the first place. Jensen starts to stand up straight and Jared looks so close to tears that he can’t help but lean back in and press his lips back to Jared’s cheek.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to do this. We’re going to stop now, okay?” Jensen says gently, rubbing Jared’s arms.
“No! I want... please, please sir, I’m fine, please don’t stop.” Jared sounds even more upset now, and Jensen shushes him, kissing his neck and down his back. He pulls away, stands up, and suddenly Jared is turning to face him, twining his hands up around Jensen’s neck and reaching up to kiss him. Jensen lets him, and finds himself wrapping his arms around Jared and easily lifting him back to sit on the desk. Jared immediately wraps his legs around Jensen’s waist and pulls him in, moaning quietly when Jensen rubs against his cock. Jensen slips a hand down to wrap around it and is surprised to find him still hard and leaking precome. Jared’s breathing picks up as Jensen rubs his thumb over the slit, gathering the precome to slide it down over the shaft. Jensen starts to stroke him in earnest and Jared’s hips lift a little, trying to buck up into Jensen’s fist. Jared reaches for Jensen’s cock, still wrapped in the condom, and guides it toward himself.
“Stop,” Jensen says, tone less authoritative now he’s breathing hard. Jared doesn’t stop, instead sliding down the desk and leaning back, pressing the head of Jensen’s cock back against his hole.
Jensen forces himself to pull back, pushing Jared to lie flat against the desk.
“I said stop, Mr Padalecki,” Jensen repeats softly. He removes Jared’s hand from his cock and pins it against the desk, bringing Jared’s other wrist to lie against the first above Jared’s head. Jared lets himself be manhandled willingly, another groan escaping him as Jensen slides his fist along the length of Jared’s shaft. Jensen strokes Jared steadily, pausing occasionally to rub his thumb against the bundle of nerves under the crown. Jared shudders every time he does it, biting his lip, arching his back. He’s perfect like this, Jensen thinks, completely at Jensen’s mercy and so obviously loving it. Jensen can’t resist the urge to lean down and whisper in Jared’s ear.
“Are you close, Mr Padalecki? Are you gonna come like this, spread out on my desk like this?” Jared’s hips jerk at Jensen’s words and that’s answer enough for him.
“Do it. Come for me. Do it now,” Jensen murmurs directly against Jared’s ear, and feels Jared’s cock swell in his fist, his body go taut under Jensen. Jared comes with a soft cry and a snap of hips.
Jensen wipes Jared’s come off his stomach with the spare napkins he keeps in the second drawer before covering Jared’s body with his own, soothing Jared’s shuddery breaths with soft brushes of his lips and fingertips. Jared’s hands clutch at Jensen’s arms, and it takes several minutes for him to relax. Finally, Jensen stands up straight.
Jared props himself up on his elbows and blinks up at Jensen, looking dazed. Jensen opens his mouth to speak, but Jared slides quickly off the desk and starts pulling on his clothes. Jensen’s not sure what to say, how to handle this. He can feel the guilt starting to curl in his stomach, mind filled with the image of Jared’s face screwed up in pain, the way he shook.
***
One week later Jared finds himself standing in front of the same door, waiting for five o’clock. If he thought he was nervous last time, it’s nothing compared to this. He figures Professor Ackles will have him doing actual detention stuff this time, given his embarrassing performance last time. Jared feels his face grow hot just remembering it, how he couldn’t take Jensen, how he didn’t know how to do anything but let Jensen touch him. He checks his watch compulsively every thirty seconds until it’s time, and when he raises his hand to knock, he’s shaking slightly, breathing like he just ran a mile.
“Come in,” comes that smooth, calm voice, and Jared opens the door. When he sees the chair in its usual place, his heart sinks a little, but he closes the door and goes to sit in front of Professor Ackles.
“Good evening, Mr Padalecki. I thought, in light of certain revelations, that this time we could discuss your request to serve detention with me,” Professor Ackles says, eyes steady on Jared. Jared tries not to fidget under the lucid green stare. The silence stretches on between them until Ackles sighs.
“Why, Mr Padalecki. I am asking you why you wanted to spend your detention with me.”
Jared hesitates, confused. He’s sure they covered this last time.
“I... I like you, sir. I wanted to be... I was hoping you’d... want me,” Jared finishes, face growing hotter still as he realizes how laughable it is that he actually thought Professor Ackles might want him.
“I see. And did you want me to fuck you, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles’ tone remains neutral, detached, like he really doesn’t care either way.
“Yes. I... I wanted that very much, sir.” Jared can’t answer fast enough.
“And why did you not tell me that you were a virgin?”
Jared drops his gaze, shame heavy in his belly. He knows he should have said something, shouldn’t have led Professor Ackles to believe that he knew what he was doing.
“I’m sorry, sir. I just didn’t think you’d want me if you knew.” The truth is bitter on his tongue, the knowledge that his mistake cost him a chance to have this, to have Professor Ackles. Jared looks up to see a look of surprise on the headmaster’s face before it smooths back to his regular, pleasantly impassive expression. Professor Ackles pauses for a moment before replying.
“I wish you’d told me.” He looks regretful, and Jared feels another twist of shame.
“I’m sorry, sir, really. I know I should have been honest, I just... I just wanted you so much, and I thought...” He trails off and drops his head. He hears the headmaster’s chair scrape back but doesn’t look up until there’s a hand, warm and heavy, on his shoulder. Professor Ackles is standing over him, looking down at him, and Jared is glad to see no trace of pity or irritation in his expression as he addresses Jared.
“I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was happening sooner.”
Jared barely registers the words, distracted by the hand gently stroking his shoulder. He tilts his head to rub his cheek against it, not caring that he must look ridiculous, and sees something flicker in Professor Ackles’ eyes before he pulls his hand away.
“Are you paying attention, Mr Padalecki?”
Jared nods quickly and thinks back to what Professor Ackles just said.
“ ‘S not your fault, I should have told you. I’m sorry sir, really. If... could we... could we pretend it didn’t happen?”
“No.”
Jared’s heart sinks and he hangs his head. This must be the part where Professor Ackles tells him to leave, that it can’t happen again, that he doesn’t want Jared after all. Jared starts to rise from his chair, not wanting to go through the humiliation of actually being dismissed, but Professor Ackles presses him back down.
“You can leave in a moment, if you still want to. First, I’d like you to answer a few more questions.”
Jared nods, not looking up, and hears the headmaster turn and lean back against the front of the desk to face Jared.
“Why did you leave so quickly last week?” Professor Ackles’ tone is gentle but firm.
“I... I was embarrassed, sir. I didn’t think... I know you thought I... And I just wanted it to be good for you and I didn’t know how and then you...” Jared trails off, lost in his own stumbling explanation, and tries to shrug, as if it isn’t a big deal. The effect is ruined by his trembling shoulders.
“You think I didn’t enjoy that?” the headmaster’s calm demeanor drops for a second, incredulity and indignation clear in his voice. Jared glances up, surprised, and finds Professor Ackles’ green eyes almost comically wide. His face quickly relaxes back to its usual mask, but Jared starts to feel a spark of hope. He nods, confirming the headmaster’s statement, and cringes a little at the glint of anger that appears in those green eyes.
“Mr Padalecki, I enjoyed it. Very much so, in fact. I am simply concerned that I may have harmed you. You are younger and smaller than me, and I never should have pushed you like that.”
Jared’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Professor Ackles enjoyed touching him. He lets himself hope, for a moment, that the headmaster might want to do it again, before registering the cold edge to Ackles’ voice.
“Are you... sir, are you angry with me? Did I do something else wrong?” Jared asks meekly, preparing to be chastised. Instead, he watches Professor Ackles’ expression soften.
“No. I’m angry with myself. I think... I think perhaps we had best leave it at that. Unless there was anything else you wished to talk to me about?” Professor Ackles’ voice carries a note of finality that twists in Jared like a knife.
Five years. Jared has watched this man for five years, hoping to get sent to his office, slowly coming to terms with the nature of his infatuation and what it might mean for him. Five years, and he’s finally gotten what he wants, and no matter how ashamed and terrified he may be, he is not walking away without asking. Hell, Jared will beg if need be, it’s not like he can sink any lower at this point.
“Can’t I stay? I still have more detentions, sir, don’t I?” Jared says as innocently as he can.
Professor Ackles gazes thoughtfully at him for a moment, then nods briskly.
“Certainly, you may stay. Did you bring any homework?”
Jared stares at him for a moment before answering, a little bewildered.
“I thought we would...” he trails off, and the headmaster raises his eyebrows.
“You thought we would repeat your last detention? Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Jared says, a little too quickly.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mr Padalecki.”
***
Jensen’s never fucked a student before. It’s not that he thought it was particularly wrong, or rather not that he cared about it being wrong, but he likes his job and he wants to keep it. No student, no matter how desperate, was worth that. And there have been some desperate ones. Jensen’s lost count of the number of girls who’ve strolled into his office wearing skirts two inches too short and practically begged to suck him off. Even the boys, not-so-subtly asking if they could earn extra credit, could work off their suspensions somehow, didn’t seem worth the risk. But Jared... well, Jensen’s being watching Jared Padalecki for a little longer than he’d like to admit. The kid’s already tall for his age; smaller than Jensen, but tall, and he’s going to get taller. He shrugs when he smiles, apologetic, and hides behind his floppy hair more often than not. He seems to be friends with everyone, is always hanging out with that Sandy girl, so Jensen just assumed he was... Well, Jensen was wrong. And now he’s jerked off a student, and that student is a virgin, and that student is sitting before him saying he wants to get fucked.
Jensen has no idea what to do, but there’s no ambiguity about what he wants. Jared’s looking up at him with his big hazel eyes, and Jensen’s torn between a desire to wrap his arms around him or bend him over the desk. Instead, he shakes his head.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mr Padalecki.”
Every ounce of Jared’s disappointment is written all over his face, in the way his shoulders slump and the little sigh he lets out. When the kid looks up, there’s a hint determination in his eyes Jensen hasn’t seen.
“I won’t tell anyone. I’ll do what you tell me, I promise I’ll be good,” Jared’s voice is shaky, but getting stronger. He looks Jensen dead in the eyes and adds, “I’ll do anything you want.”
The words go straight to the gnawing desire growing in Jensen, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s hard, achingly so. Jared’s hazel gaze isn’t wavering, his promise hanging in the air, and Jensen is fighting for control again. With some difficulty, he keeps his expression blank as he answers.
“What I want is for you to do your homework. But as you don’t have that, you may go home. Come back next week, with your homework, and you can serve detention then.”
***
Jared tries not to dwell on Professor Ackles too much on his way home, with limited success. He keeps revisiting the way those green eyes widened for a moment when Jared said he’d do anything, the flash of heat he’s sure he saw. He remembers the calming weight of the Headmaster’s hand on his shoulder, how it made him feel cared for, important. Jared tries not to think about the guilt in Professor Ackles’ voice when he said “I enjoyed it”.
That night, like every night since “the desk incident”, Jared slips a hand into his shorts and wraps his fingers around his cock to slowly slide down the length. He’s hard, he’s been hard since he started daydreaming about Professor Ackles instead of doing his homework. Tonight, though, Jared wants something more. He wants big hands on him, smoothing his ragged lust and pressing him down, twisting into him and holding him steady. Just the memory has him quickening the pace of his strokes, precome slicking his palm. Jared presses one fingertip against his hole and comes, just like that, hips bucking up into his fist.
Jared comes down slowly, come and sweat cooling on his skin. He wipes his stomach clean and curls up on his side, falling asleep to images of green eyes and smooth mahogany desks.
***
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5K (for this part)
Warnings and kinks: bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, age difference, angst, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, masturbation, obedience, painful sex, teacher/student, underage (Jared is 15, Jensen is late 20s), virginity.
Summary: Jared is a student at an elite private school. Jensen is the headmaster who's taken an interest in him. Cue office sex and a surprising amount of angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jared, Jensen, or anyone else. This is fiction.
This was originally written for this prompt over on the spn kink meme.
"Jared Padalecki is here to see you, sir."
Jensen takes his feet off the desk and sits up straight, carefully arranging his features into a stern almost-frown.
Jared ambles in, that ridiculous hair flopping into his eyes, sheepish half smile on his face. His hands are in his pockets, slender shoulders in that perpetual half-shrug of his. Jensen motions to the chair in front of his rather intimidating mahogany desk. Jared sits and grins up at Jensen hopefully. The grin fades when he doesn't return it. Jensen watches little creases of worry appear on Jared's face, and his fingers twitch, itching to smooth them. Instead, he clears his throat and fixes Jared with his most serious stare, not speaking until he sees a pink flush creeping up Jared's neck and cheeks.
"Again, Mr Padalecki?"
Jensen speaks softly, just above a whisper, and is instantly gratified to see Jared sit up straighter.
"Sir, it wasn't-"
"Did you put a sheep's heart in Mrs Dalbey's desk, Mr Padalecki?"
Jared hangs his head, shoulders slumping, and Jensen's glad, because he's not sure he's winning the fight to keep his lips from twitching into a grin. A sheep's heart. It's exactly something Jensen would have done at Jared's age. He can't exactly go around telling his students that though.
"What do you think would be an appropriate punishment, Mr Padalecki?"
Jared looks up in surprise.
"I get to choose?"
"I didn't say that. I asked you to suggest an appropriate punishment. I will decide if I agree that it is sufficient."
Jared bites his lip, thoughtful. Jensen watches, curious, as the color on Jared’s cheeks deepens. He takes a deep breath before answering, like he’s gathering his courage.
“I could do detention with you, sir.” Jared’s eyes are fixed on the hands fidgeting in his lap as he answers, so he misses Jensen’s briefly widened eyes.
“I don’t usually oversee detention.” Jensen keeps his tone neutral.
“I know. I was thinking, since this isn’t really a regular offense, I shouldn’t just get regular detention.” It’s a paper thin excuse, it barely makes sense, and they both know it. Jared looks like he’s trying to sink through the chair, and Jensen has to suppress another laugh at this skinny, gangly kid making himself smaller.
“I think that’s a reasonable suggestion,” Jensen starts, and Jared’s head snaps up, eyes wide and disbelieving. Jensen continues, “You will come here Friday evening, say, five o’clock? I have a meeting at four, but it should be done by then. You can serve your first detention then.”
Jared starts to nod, then stops. “My first? Are there... Will I be serving more detentions with you?”
Jared looks so hopeful, so young, that Jensen has to smile, just a little, just a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, Mr Padalecki. I think you need to be taught a lesson, and you will serve as many detentions as necessary for that lesson to really... sink in.”
Jared nods slowly, like he’s trying to figure out what Jensen is really saying.
“That will be all, Mr Padalecki.”
Jared’s halfway to the door before he turns back to Jensen.
“Should I bring anything? Homework?”
“That won’t be necessary, I have everything we’ll need right here,” Jensen replies, and that thoughtful look is back on Jared’s face as he walks out the door.
***
Jared’s palms are sweating. Actually, Jared’s pretty sure his everything is sweating. He’s been waiting outside the door to Professor Ackles’ office for eight minutes, and he still has two to go before it’s time to knock. Jared tries to calm his breathing, but it’s impossible to relax. Professor Ackles makes him so nervous, that sharp green stare cutting right through any pretense. Jared’s never been able to lie to the headmaster, not even back in his first year when he and Chad stole the bust of Socrates that sits in the entrance hall. Jared’s inability to deceive Professor Ackles has always worried him, although it seems unlikely that he’d ask Jared outright, “Do you want me to fuck you?” After his last meeting with Ackles, Jared thinks that maybe he already knows anyway.
Jared checks the clock, wipes his palms on his slacks one more time, and knocks.
“Come in.”
Jared does, trying to look like he hasn’t been loitering in front of the door for the past ten minutes. Professor Ackles is, as always, sitting behind his desk, every hair in place. This time, however, the chair that is normally sitting facing the desk has been removed. Jared pauses, uncertain, before walking to stand in the empty spot.
Professor Ackles stands up, and Jared peeks out from under his bangs to see that like everything else about him, Professor Ackles’ clothes are immaculate and orderly. Jared watches him loosen his tie and fold it over the back of his chair before walking around the desk and leaning back against it, arms folded. Jared feels his gaze heavy on him and stands up straighter, hands behind his back. He finally dares a glance up and is met with green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Why did you want to fill your detention with me, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles’ asks, and Jared’s sure he already knows.
“I... I like... I was hoping.... I wanted to see you,” Jared stammers, blushing at how childish he must sound.
“And why did you want to see me?”
“I... I like you.” Jared mumbles, his face burning as he forces himself to meet Professor Ackles’ gaze.
“I see. And how old are you now, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles asks, in a tone of mild interest, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been Jared’s Headmaster for the past five years.
“Fifteen, sir.”
Professor Ackles just hums and pushes up off the desk to walk around Jared. Jared stands perfectly still, holding his breath, feeling like he’s being inspected. He flushes further as he realizes he’s getting hard and has no way to hide it, his pants starting to show his arousal.
Professor Ackles comes back around to stand at Jared’s side, and Jared can just make out the way the Headmaster’s eyes slide down his body, stopping at the now obvious bulge in his pants. Jared closes his eyes and fights the urge to cover himself up.
“Fifteen years old. Tell me, Mr Padalecki, what should I do about a fifteen year old getting hard in my office?” Professor Ackles’ tone hasn’t changed; he’s still speaking in that detached, neutral voice, and for some reason that’s making Jared even harder. He tries to focus on the question, to ignore the pressing need to adjust his pants.
“I... I don’t... I don’t know, sir,” Jared says.
“Are you sure about that?” Professor Ackles is suddenly right in front of Jared. Jared didn’t hear him move, and he opens his eyes to find himself looking up, straight into Professor Ackles’ green ones. He forces his mind back to the conversation, to the question he’s supposed to answer.
“I’m... You could... You could fuck me,” Jared says, immediately dropping his eyes to the ground, certain that any second Professor Ackles is going to laugh at him, going to send him home like this. He can’t believe he actually said it, and he’s about to try and take it back, maybe pretend it was a joke somehow, when Professor Ackles speaks.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” The Headmaster’s lips are less than inch from Jared, and Jared can feel his breath on his skin. He nods, not daring to look up.
***
Jensen wasn’t actually planning on fucking the kid when he agreed to this detention. He just thinks Jared is a sweet, slightly misguided teenage boy who could benefit from a little lesson. Jensen can’t help it if he’s clearly the best person to be teaching that lesson. The lesson itself was going to start with a little fear on Jared’s part; Jensen was just going to make Jared stand there, maybe interrogate him about his misdoings, maybe enjoy watching him squirm. Instead, Jensen finds himself asking Jared if he wants to get fucked. He catches himself, almost decides to put a stop to it there, but Jared gives this little nod, like he’s afraid it’ll get taken away if he shows how badly he wants it, and Jensen feels that pull again.
“That’s not good enough. If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to need to ask. Nicely.”
Jensen decides that’ll do it: if Jared is serious about this, he’ll push himself past whatever’s making him blush like a virgin. If not, he just won’t answer, and Jensen will let it go.
“Please... Please sir... Please fuck me.” Jared’s voice is shaking, but he manages to look up at Jensen as he says it. Through the stab of lust in his belly, Jensen registers that he’s impressed: most of his students can’t meet his eye at the best of times. He rewards Jared with the gentle press of his lips and relishes the gasp Jared lets out, the way Jared’s trembling lips part under his.
Jensen pulls away and Jared tries to follow, but Jensen holds in place with a hand on his chest. Jared gets the message and Jensen walks to his desk, carefully removing a stack of paperwork and the few books. He turns to Jared then, and motions him over. Jared hesitates before stepping around the desk to stand beside Jensen, and Jensen hides his smile. He knows the effect his desk has on his students; Jared’s suddenly much more fidgety now he’s on the wrong side of it.
“Take off your jacket,” Jensen says, loosening his tie. Jared complies, folding the jacket neatly and placing it on the edge of the desk. “Unbutton your shirt.”
Jared does it, shaky hands fumbling. Jensen turns to lock the door, calling over his shoulder, “And your pants.”
When he turns back, Jared’s shirt is hanging open and his pants are unzipped. Jensen can see that Jared’s still hard, and he walks back around to stand behind him and slide one hand into his briefs. Jared gasps again when Jensen’s fingers wrap around his cock, and Jensen strokes him, slowly, once, before pulling his hand out.
“Take off your shirt,” Jensen instructs, and steps back to give Jared room to comply. “Now your shoes.”
Jared takes them off without turning around, carefully placing them beside the desk.
“Pants and socks too.”
Jared folds his clothes neatly, like he’s afraid to make a mess in front of Jensen.
“Underwear.”
Jensen can see the blush deepening on the back of Jared’s neck as he slides his underwear off and adds it to the stack of clothing before turning back to face the desk.
“Hands flat on the desk.”
Jared has to bend a little to do it, and Jensen admires the view. In a couple of years, Jared’s going to be big. At the moment, he’s a little on the skinny side, more wiry than muscular. He’s shorter than Jensen by a couple of inches, but from the size of his hands, Jensen thinks he’ll grow to be taller. Jensen resists the urge to slide a hand down the curve of Jared’s spine, to grip his slender hips and press against him.
“Feet apart,” Jensen says, and the way Jared complies immediately has Jensen’s pulse racing. He’s about to continue when he stops, reminds himself that Jared is fifteen years old, that he needs to make sure.
“You’re absolutely certain you want to do this, Mr Padalecki? You understand that if you say no, you won’t get in trouble for it, and I won’t in any way treat you differently?” Jensen asks, and Jared nods.
“Yes sir. I’m sure.”
“Good. Now bend forward for me.” Jensen watches Jared bend at the waist until his chest is pressed to the desk, folding his hands under his cheek. He looks fragile somehow, small, trying to peer up at Jensen through his bangs.
“Good boy.” Jensen says it softly, reassuring, and finally lets himself touch Jared. He runs his hand up Jared’s back to the back of his neck, smooth skin warm under his hand. Jared’s back arches slightly at the touch, the movement pushing his hips up, and Jensen can barely stop himself from grinding against him.
He leans over to the second drawer from the top and takes out lube and a condom. He puts the condom down on the desk but slicks up his fingers. Jared’s twisting a little, trying to see what Jensen’s doing, and Jensen presses gently on Jared’s cheek with his dry hand.
“Head down.”
Jared lets out a breathy little cry when Jensen’s wet fingers slide down around his hole. Jensen can’t help smoothing his other hand over Jared’s ass, spreading his cheeks further to watch his own fingers on Jared. He circles Jared’s hole a few times before pressing one fingertip in. Jared’s tight, and scorching hot, and Jensen’s hit with another lurch of desire as he feels Jared squeeze around his finger.
Jensen curls and twists his finger, pushing until he finds the spot that makes Jared’s hips buck against the table, makes his slender frame arch and tense. Jensen grins and hits it again and Jared’s moaning, trying to shove back against Jensen. Jensen pulls his finger out and easily holds Jared’s hips down with both hands.
“Hold still.” Jensen keeps his hands there until Jared nods against his hands.
When he pushes back in, this time it’s with two fingers. Jared lets out a tiny groan and it sounds a little like pain. Jensen’s worried for a moment, but the second he finds Jared’s prostate, Jared’s back to moaning. He’s writhing gently, like he’s trying not to move and failing, and Jensen lets it go. He pushes in all the way before pulling out, rubbing against Jared’s hole and pushing slowly back in. Jensen fucks Jared like that, slowly pushing in until he finds his prostate, stopping to rub at it, before pulling back out to repeat the whole maneuver. He scissors his fingers against the tight pull of Jared’s rim before dragging his fingers all the way out and taking out his cock to roll on the condom. Jensen slicks himself and lines up.
He presses the head of his cock against Jared’s hole and waits for Jared to relax into it. He pushes a little harder and Jared shifts almost imperceptibly away. Jensen grabs Jared’s hip with one hand and holds the boy in place before pushing again. Finally, he feels himself start to press inside, and he’s just losing himself in the sensation when he hears Jared whimper. Jensen stops, pulling back slightly, and feels the tremor in Jared’s hip. He glances at Jared’s face and is shocked to see Jared’s eyes are shut tight and he’s biting his lip so hard it’s turning white. Jensen pulls back all the way and rubs his hand up Jared’s back. He follows his hands with his lips, kissing gently up each knob of Jared’s spine to his neck, twisting around to reach Jared’s cheek. Jared’s eyes flutter open, and Jensen’s met a startled hazel gaze.
“Are you okay?” Jensen asks, and Jared nods, eyes not leaving Jensen’s.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
Jared looks embarrassed, but he can’t look away; Jensen’s covering him completely and he can’t even turn his head.
“I’m... I’ve never...” Jared’s whisper trails off as he closes his eyes, cheeks darkening.
“You’re a virgin?” Jensen tries to keep the shock out of his voice. Jared always seemed to flirt, he was the one to suggest one-on-one detention with Jensen in the first place. Jensen starts to stand up straight and Jared looks so close to tears that he can’t help but lean back in and press his lips back to Jared’s cheek.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to do this. We’re going to stop now, okay?” Jensen says gently, rubbing Jared’s arms.
“No! I want... please, please sir, I’m fine, please don’t stop.” Jared sounds even more upset now, and Jensen shushes him, kissing his neck and down his back. He pulls away, stands up, and suddenly Jared is turning to face him, twining his hands up around Jensen’s neck and reaching up to kiss him. Jensen lets him, and finds himself wrapping his arms around Jared and easily lifting him back to sit on the desk. Jared immediately wraps his legs around Jensen’s waist and pulls him in, moaning quietly when Jensen rubs against his cock. Jensen slips a hand down to wrap around it and is surprised to find him still hard and leaking precome. Jared’s breathing picks up as Jensen rubs his thumb over the slit, gathering the precome to slide it down over the shaft. Jensen starts to stroke him in earnest and Jared’s hips lift a little, trying to buck up into Jensen’s fist. Jared reaches for Jensen’s cock, still wrapped in the condom, and guides it toward himself.
“Stop,” Jensen says, tone less authoritative now he’s breathing hard. Jared doesn’t stop, instead sliding down the desk and leaning back, pressing the head of Jensen’s cock back against his hole.
Jensen forces himself to pull back, pushing Jared to lie flat against the desk.
“I said stop, Mr Padalecki,” Jensen repeats softly. He removes Jared’s hand from his cock and pins it against the desk, bringing Jared’s other wrist to lie against the first above Jared’s head. Jared lets himself be manhandled willingly, another groan escaping him as Jensen slides his fist along the length of Jared’s shaft. Jensen strokes Jared steadily, pausing occasionally to rub his thumb against the bundle of nerves under the crown. Jared shudders every time he does it, biting his lip, arching his back. He’s perfect like this, Jensen thinks, completely at Jensen’s mercy and so obviously loving it. Jensen can’t resist the urge to lean down and whisper in Jared’s ear.
“Are you close, Mr Padalecki? Are you gonna come like this, spread out on my desk like this?” Jared’s hips jerk at Jensen’s words and that’s answer enough for him.
“Do it. Come for me. Do it now,” Jensen murmurs directly against Jared’s ear, and feels Jared’s cock swell in his fist, his body go taut under Jensen. Jared comes with a soft cry and a snap of hips.
Jensen wipes Jared’s come off his stomach with the spare napkins he keeps in the second drawer before covering Jared’s body with his own, soothing Jared’s shuddery breaths with soft brushes of his lips and fingertips. Jared’s hands clutch at Jensen’s arms, and it takes several minutes for him to relax. Finally, Jensen stands up straight.
Jared props himself up on his elbows and blinks up at Jensen, looking dazed. Jensen opens his mouth to speak, but Jared slides quickly off the desk and starts pulling on his clothes. Jensen’s not sure what to say, how to handle this. He can feel the guilt starting to curl in his stomach, mind filled with the image of Jared’s face screwed up in pain, the way he shook.
***
One week later Jared finds himself standing in front of the same door, waiting for five o’clock. If he thought he was nervous last time, it’s nothing compared to this. He figures Professor Ackles will have him doing actual detention stuff this time, given his embarrassing performance last time. Jared feels his face grow hot just remembering it, how he couldn’t take Jensen, how he didn’t know how to do anything but let Jensen touch him. He checks his watch compulsively every thirty seconds until it’s time, and when he raises his hand to knock, he’s shaking slightly, breathing like he just ran a mile.
“Come in,” comes that smooth, calm voice, and Jared opens the door. When he sees the chair in its usual place, his heart sinks a little, but he closes the door and goes to sit in front of Professor Ackles.
“Good evening, Mr Padalecki. I thought, in light of certain revelations, that this time we could discuss your request to serve detention with me,” Professor Ackles says, eyes steady on Jared. Jared tries not to fidget under the lucid green stare. The silence stretches on between them until Ackles sighs.
“Why, Mr Padalecki. I am asking you why you wanted to spend your detention with me.”
Jared hesitates, confused. He’s sure they covered this last time.
“I... I like you, sir. I wanted to be... I was hoping you’d... want me,” Jared finishes, face growing hotter still as he realizes how laughable it is that he actually thought Professor Ackles might want him.
“I see. And did you want me to fuck you, Mr Padalecki?” Professor Ackles’ tone remains neutral, detached, like he really doesn’t care either way.
“Yes. I... I wanted that very much, sir.” Jared can’t answer fast enough.
“And why did you not tell me that you were a virgin?”
Jared drops his gaze, shame heavy in his belly. He knows he should have said something, shouldn’t have led Professor Ackles to believe that he knew what he was doing.
“I’m sorry, sir. I just didn’t think you’d want me if you knew.” The truth is bitter on his tongue, the knowledge that his mistake cost him a chance to have this, to have Professor Ackles. Jared looks up to see a look of surprise on the headmaster’s face before it smooths back to his regular, pleasantly impassive expression. Professor Ackles pauses for a moment before replying.
“I wish you’d told me.” He looks regretful, and Jared feels another twist of shame.
“I’m sorry, sir, really. I know I should have been honest, I just... I just wanted you so much, and I thought...” He trails off and drops his head. He hears the headmaster’s chair scrape back but doesn’t look up until there’s a hand, warm and heavy, on his shoulder. Professor Ackles is standing over him, looking down at him, and Jared is glad to see no trace of pity or irritation in his expression as he addresses Jared.
“I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was happening sooner.”
Jared barely registers the words, distracted by the hand gently stroking his shoulder. He tilts his head to rub his cheek against it, not caring that he must look ridiculous, and sees something flicker in Professor Ackles’ eyes before he pulls his hand away.
“Are you paying attention, Mr Padalecki?”
Jared nods quickly and thinks back to what Professor Ackles just said.
“ ‘S not your fault, I should have told you. I’m sorry sir, really. If... could we... could we pretend it didn’t happen?”
“No.”
Jared’s heart sinks and he hangs his head. This must be the part where Professor Ackles tells him to leave, that it can’t happen again, that he doesn’t want Jared after all. Jared starts to rise from his chair, not wanting to go through the humiliation of actually being dismissed, but Professor Ackles presses him back down.
“You can leave in a moment, if you still want to. First, I’d like you to answer a few more questions.”
Jared nods, not looking up, and hears the headmaster turn and lean back against the front of the desk to face Jared.
“Why did you leave so quickly last week?” Professor Ackles’ tone is gentle but firm.
“I... I was embarrassed, sir. I didn’t think... I know you thought I... And I just wanted it to be good for you and I didn’t know how and then you...” Jared trails off, lost in his own stumbling explanation, and tries to shrug, as if it isn’t a big deal. The effect is ruined by his trembling shoulders.
“You think I didn’t enjoy that?” the headmaster’s calm demeanor drops for a second, incredulity and indignation clear in his voice. Jared glances up, surprised, and finds Professor Ackles’ green eyes almost comically wide. His face quickly relaxes back to its usual mask, but Jared starts to feel a spark of hope. He nods, confirming the headmaster’s statement, and cringes a little at the glint of anger that appears in those green eyes.
“Mr Padalecki, I enjoyed it. Very much so, in fact. I am simply concerned that I may have harmed you. You are younger and smaller than me, and I never should have pushed you like that.”
Jared’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Professor Ackles enjoyed touching him. He lets himself hope, for a moment, that the headmaster might want to do it again, before registering the cold edge to Ackles’ voice.
“Are you... sir, are you angry with me? Did I do something else wrong?” Jared asks meekly, preparing to be chastised. Instead, he watches Professor Ackles’ expression soften.
“No. I’m angry with myself. I think... I think perhaps we had best leave it at that. Unless there was anything else you wished to talk to me about?” Professor Ackles’ voice carries a note of finality that twists in Jared like a knife.
Five years. Jared has watched this man for five years, hoping to get sent to his office, slowly coming to terms with the nature of his infatuation and what it might mean for him. Five years, and he’s finally gotten what he wants, and no matter how ashamed and terrified he may be, he is not walking away without asking. Hell, Jared will beg if need be, it’s not like he can sink any lower at this point.
“Can’t I stay? I still have more detentions, sir, don’t I?” Jared says as innocently as he can.
Professor Ackles gazes thoughtfully at him for a moment, then nods briskly.
“Certainly, you may stay. Did you bring any homework?”
Jared stares at him for a moment before answering, a little bewildered.
“I thought we would...” he trails off, and the headmaster raises his eyebrows.
“You thought we would repeat your last detention? Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Jared says, a little too quickly.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mr Padalecki.”
***
Jensen’s never fucked a student before. It’s not that he thought it was particularly wrong, or rather not that he cared about it being wrong, but he likes his job and he wants to keep it. No student, no matter how desperate, was worth that. And there have been some desperate ones. Jensen’s lost count of the number of girls who’ve strolled into his office wearing skirts two inches too short and practically begged to suck him off. Even the boys, not-so-subtly asking if they could earn extra credit, could work off their suspensions somehow, didn’t seem worth the risk. But Jared... well, Jensen’s being watching Jared Padalecki for a little longer than he’d like to admit. The kid’s already tall for his age; smaller than Jensen, but tall, and he’s going to get taller. He shrugs when he smiles, apologetic, and hides behind his floppy hair more often than not. He seems to be friends with everyone, is always hanging out with that Sandy girl, so Jensen just assumed he was... Well, Jensen was wrong. And now he’s jerked off a student, and that student is a virgin, and that student is sitting before him saying he wants to get fucked.
Jensen has no idea what to do, but there’s no ambiguity about what he wants. Jared’s looking up at him with his big hazel eyes, and Jensen’s torn between a desire to wrap his arms around him or bend him over the desk. Instead, he shakes his head.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mr Padalecki.”
Every ounce of Jared’s disappointment is written all over his face, in the way his shoulders slump and the little sigh he lets out. When the kid looks up, there’s a hint determination in his eyes Jensen hasn’t seen.
“I won’t tell anyone. I’ll do what you tell me, I promise I’ll be good,” Jared’s voice is shaky, but getting stronger. He looks Jensen dead in the eyes and adds, “I’ll do anything you want.”
The words go straight to the gnawing desire growing in Jensen, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s hard, achingly so. Jared’s hazel gaze isn’t wavering, his promise hanging in the air, and Jensen is fighting for control again. With some difficulty, he keeps his expression blank as he answers.
“What I want is for you to do your homework. But as you don’t have that, you may go home. Come back next week, with your homework, and you can serve detention then.”
***
Jared tries not to dwell on Professor Ackles too much on his way home, with limited success. He keeps revisiting the way those green eyes widened for a moment when Jared said he’d do anything, the flash of heat he’s sure he saw. He remembers the calming weight of the Headmaster’s hand on his shoulder, how it made him feel cared for, important. Jared tries not to think about the guilt in Professor Ackles’ voice when he said “I enjoyed it”.
That night, like every night since “the desk incident”, Jared slips a hand into his shorts and wraps his fingers around his cock to slowly slide down the length. He’s hard, he’s been hard since he started daydreaming about Professor Ackles instead of doing his homework. Tonight, though, Jared wants something more. He wants big hands on him, smoothing his ragged lust and pressing him down, twisting into him and holding him steady. Just the memory has him quickening the pace of his strokes, precome slicking his palm. Jared presses one fingertip against his hole and comes, just like that, hips bucking up into his fist.
Jared comes down slowly, come and sweat cooling on his skin. He wipes his stomach clean and curls up on his side, falling asleep to images of green eyes and smooth mahogany desks.
***