Sebastian had debated going to the show because he’d known this would happen, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it. The combination of the music and the liquor and Tristan, looking incredible and so clearly wanting it, would make it impossible to resist taking him home. Sebastian had given himself a stern talking-to in the cab on the way to Terminal West, but no amount of mental preparation had girded him against the sight of Tristan’s hot, needy expression and the obvious sexual attraction simmering between them.
And the heady reminder that the grades were in, Tristan was no longer his student, and there was nothing stopping them from acting on that attraction. Sebastian could tell himself it was still a bad idea all he wanted, but his body wasn’t interested in listening to his brain.
The second he’d heard the noise Tristan made when Sebastian grabbed his wrist, that was it. That kiss in the loading dock only sealed the deal, and Sebastian was fighting the urge to put his hands all over Tristan in the cab on the way back to his apartment. Since he couldn’t do that—and did, in fact, enjoy the anticipation—he ran his gaze over Tristan with undisguised intent, from the top of his tousled hair to his kiss-swollen mouth, down to where his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing, and lower to Tristan’s lap and the cock he so viscerally remembered pressing against his stomach.
Sebastian shoved cash at the cab driver, paying just enough attention to ascertain that it was enough to cover the fare and the tip before slamming his door shut and waiting for Tristan to follow him into the building. If there hadn’t been people in the elevator with them, Sebastian might have gone ahead and pushed Tristan to his knees right there.
Luckily, it wasn’t a long way to his apartment, and the second he had the door closed, he didn’t waste any time. He shoved Tristan against it like he’d done in the alley, his mouth hot and demanding on Tristan’s as he reached down for the buckle of Tristan’s belt.
His rational mental voice was insisting he should say something, but it was fuzzy, muted by how good Tristan tasted and how it felt to finally put his hands all over him.
Tristan was moaning into Sebastian’s mouth and trying to help him with the belt buckle. It wasn’t working, because their hands were getting caught up and tangled in their haste. Making a sound, Sebastian bit him sharply on the mouth and growled, “Palms against the door.”
Tristan’s response was immediate and left no doubt that he was into Sebastian being in charge, which had been Sebastian’s initial impression when he’d taken control of their kiss in the alley. Tristan might be taller and physically stronger, but Sebastian could feel how much it got Tristan going that Sebastian didn’t let that stop him. He put his palms flat against the door like Sebastian wanted, and Sebastian was able to get his belt undone, his jeans unzipped, and a hand down Tristan’s pants to grab his cock.
Tristan started talking. “I want to—”
Sebastian put his other hand over Tristan’s mouth and leaned in to speak in his ear. “I know. And you will. But you’re going to come because I can tell you’re nearly there.” He took his hand away and started kissing him on the neck, lips on the sensitive skin beneath Tristan’s ear. “Aren’t you.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Fuck,” Tristan hissed, hips moving, pushing his slick cock into the tightness of Sebastian’s fist. Sebastian took that as a yes and smiled against Tristan’s neck, licking at the slightly salty, tangy taste of sweat and skin.
“Do you want my mouth on you?” Sebastian asked, angling himself so he could continue to lick and suck Tristan’s neck, jack him off, and press his own aching cock against the rock-hard muscles of Tristan’s thigh at the same time. If he didn’t watch it, he’d be coming in his jeans, and he wasn’t as young as Tristan.
“I want whatever you want to put on me,” Tristan panted. “Holy fuck.”
Sebastian bit gently at the bottom of his ear. “Then ask me. Nicely.”
Tristan gave what sounded like a half laugh, half moan. “Please suck my cock.”
Hearing it made Sebastian shiver, though he hadn’t expected Tristan would be too shy to say it. He gave Tristan’s earlobe a last little bite, then smoothly went to his knees. It hadn’t been too long since he’d been with anyone, but he didn’t remember it being like this. As he pulled Tristan’s jeans down and out of his way, he noticed his own hands were unsteady with the force of his want.
Tristan still had his palms against the door, and he stared down at Sebastian with a questioning expression. Sebastian was momentarily distracted by the way Tristan looked—fair skin so flushed he looked sunburned, eyes a heavy-lidded blur, mouth parted and his cock hard and wet from pre-come in Sebastian’s hand.
“I’ll tell you when you can move them,” Sebastian said, his voice rough.
Tristan’s head moved in a slight nod, and Sebastian leaned forward and took Tristan’s cock in his mouth. He relished the taste as he relaxed his throat and took Tristan deep, setting a fast rhythm because now was not the time to tease. Tristan moaned low in his chest, swearing, and Sebastian could see him hitting his palms against the door—but he didn’t lift his hands completely. It was so hot, Sebastian had to reach down and stroke himself through his jeans to take off the edge, undoing the button so he could have a little relief.
Sebastian wasn’t inclined to draw this out, but he did want to enjoy himself, so he squeezed the base of Tristan’s cock a time or two when it seemed like Tristan was getting close. Finally, after he’d teased Tristan and kept him on the edge for what he was sure felt to Tristan like an eternity, Sebastian pulled off and said gruffly, “All right,” sure that his meaning was clear enough.
It was. No sooner had the words left his mouth than Tristan was grabbing at his hair, fingers tight and yanking Sebastian closer. At any other time, Sebastian might tell him that You can have your hands free didn’t mean Make me choke on your cock, but he was looking forward to making Tristan do the same, and he could tell from the pulse of Tristan’s cock in his mouth that he was on the edge.
Sebastian rubbed the bottom of Tristan’s balls, sliding his fingers back to tease—just tease—at Tristan’s hole. It made Tristan groan and thrust hard enough that Sebastian gagged, Tristan’s fingers interlaced at the back of Sebastian’s head to hold him close as he came hot down his throat.
Sebastian sucked lightly until Tristan made a strangled sound and pushed gently on his head, wriggling a bit in the hold Sebastian had on his hips. Sebastian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rising easily to his feet. Tristan looked deliciously wrecked, chest heaving and his pants somewhere around his knees. Sebastian gave him an appreciative once-over. “Now, I think you can take care of me.”
Tristan’s laugh was low and rough, but he grinned and tugged his jeans up one-handed. He didn’t bother to do up the belt, though, only followed Sebastian to the living room. Sebastian had intended to go to his bedroom, but suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer, so he sprawled on his leather couch, legs spread, and motioned at Tristan with two fingers.
Tristan sharply sucked a breath in at the gesture. “I knew you being a bossy motherfucker would do it for me.”
Sebastian laughed in surprise, reaching down to finish undoing his jeans. “I had a feeling.”
Tristan smiled slowly and lowered himself to his knees between Sebastian’s splayed legs. He slid his hands up Sebastian’s thighs and hooked his fingers in the edges of Sebastian’s jeans, pulling them down. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Then stop talking and suck me,” Sebastian said, but he reached out and drew his fingers through Tristan’s hair as he did so. He liked being in charge of things, but it was the unavoidable truth that they were playing at something here that could be misconstrued very easily, given Sebastian’s job. Though, if Sebastian were honest, that was making this whole thing even hotter, and he wouldn’t doubt the same was true for Tristan.
Still. Sebastian reached out and took Tristan’s chin in his fingers, bringing Tristan’s focus up to his face instead of his cock. “Tell me if it’s too much, all right?”
Tristan blinked those bright-blue eyes at him, ducked his head, and sucked on Sebastian’s fingers as he nodded in response. The sensation of Tristan’s mouth on his fingers went right to Sebastian’s cock, and he hissed, hips lifting slightly off the couch. He pulled his fingers free and reached down to slide them, wet from Tristan’s mouth, over his own cock. He raised an eyebrow. “Now that we’re clear, get that mouth on me and suck me off.”
Tristan’s smile was sly. “Yes, Professor Cruz.”
“It’s Sebastian,” Sebastian muttered, in a completely futile attempt to disguise how hot it was to hear Tristan say that. He reached out and grabbed Tristan’s hair, yanking his head down before he could tell Tristan to call him that again.
Tristan’s mouth was hot and wet, and Sebastian let his own head fall back, watching with half-closed eyes as Tristan settled in and started sucking his cock. He was good—very good—and enthusiastic, sucking Sebastian hard and fast, using his tongue on the underside of Sebastian’s dick.
Sebastian tugged at his hair. “Slow down. Take your time. Show me how much you like sucking me.”
Tristan pulled off his dick and worked him with a nice, firm grip. “You’re really fucking hot, you know that, right?”
Sebastian huffed a laugh and tugged on Tristan’s hair again, rubbing his thumb over Tristan’s bottom lip briefly. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Holt.”
Sebastian could tell that Tristan was fine with things being a little rough, so he didn’t hesitate to take Tristan’s head between his hands and drag him back to his cock. He fucked Tristan’s throat with sharp, rough jerks of his hips. Just watching Tristan taking it was enough to almost make him come, and the noises Tristan made weren’t only sounds of choking, but whimpers too.
“Is choking on my dick making you hard?” Sebastian asked, aware of how rough his voice sounded.
Tristan’s answer was a rough noise and a short nod.
“Good. Get your hand on your dick. Jerk off so you come while you’re sucking me.” He felt Tristan’s moan around his cock, and Sebastian’s eyes rolled back for a moment. “Unless you get distracted, then I’ll make you stop.”
Tristan was a professional athlete, and he had no problem both sucking Sebastian’s cock and jerking himself off at the same time. Sebastian liked the way he could see Tristan’s elbow moving, faster and faster, and he pulled Tristan’s head down in time with the movement. He wasn’t an athlete like Tristan, but he was a runner and he knew all about timing and rhythm.
Sebastian briefly thought about orchestrating some way he could come on Tristan’s gorgeous fucking ass, but he was too close and didn’t think he could wait long enough to arrange the logistics of that. “You don’t come until I do,” Sebastian told him, and Tristan looked up at him and did something close to a nod before swallowing his cock down again.
Sebastian held him there, tightening his fingers in Tristan’s hair, and came long and hard in his mouth. It pulsed through Sebastian with a violent intensity that drew a sharp cry from him, sending him falling bonelessly back on the couch with his heartbeat a loud, insistent pounding in his ears.
He did, however, see Tristan tense and hear a moan amidst his harsh, rapid panting, and that was entirely gratifying. He allowed himself a few moments to catch his own breath, unsurprised to find Tristan was doing the same with his face pressed against Sebastian’s thigh. Sebastian lightly stroked Tristan’s sweat-dampened hair, and he took a second to enjoy the simple intimacy after the pleasure that had so completely wrung him out.
They both pulled back at the same time, Tristan to say in a tone somewhere between embarrassed and amused, “Uh, so I . . . your floor . . . um.” He glanced up and smiled. “It’s kind of a mess. Not sorry.”
Sebastian was, once again, struck by a surprised laugh. “Me neither. It’s hardwood. Easy to clean.”
They both shared a momentary grin at the hardwood comment, and when it looked like Tristan was going to say something, Sebastian shook his head and reached out to lightly tap two fingers over his mouth. “Too easy. I’ll go get a towel.”
Sebastian maneuvered himself up and off the couch, fixing his pants and running a hand through his hair as he made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a clean towel, dampened it slightly, and then filled up a glass of water. He drank it thirstily, then filled it up again and carried it into the living room.
Tristan had also fixed his own clothing, and was still sitting on the floor with his back to the couch. He gave Sebastian a sheepish smile as Sebastian handed him the towel but didn’t say anything, wiping his hands and the floor before accepting the water.
Sebastian sat on the couch and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t do this, even though you aren’t my student anymore.”
Tristan gave him a sharp look. “Do you still think that?”
Sebastian had to grin. “Not even a little.”
“Good,” said Tristan. “Because it was fucking great.”
Sebastian laughed and shook his head in amusement. “It was, yes. Thank you.”
Tristan’s face screwed up a little. “Thanking me for sex is kind of creepy.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes at that and squeezed Tristan’s shoulder again. “There’s nothing creepy about having manners, Tristan.”
“Oh my God,” Tristan laughed. He gave Sebastian that smile again, but it was a toned-down version of his earlier thousand-watt grin. Maybe just a few hundred. He finished the water and set the empty glass next to the towel. He made no effort to get up off the floor and join Sebastian on the couch. “I guess I can’t talk you into doing it again?”
“You know that quote about the spirit being willing, and the flesh being weak?” Sebastian reached out and drew his fingers through Tristan’s damp hair. “We’re not all in our twenties, here. And it’s late.”
Tristan sighed and let his head go back, eyes closing. “Yeah, I know. I’ve got to meet some of my teammates at the gym in the morning, anyway. Gonna be distracted enough as it is.” A smile curved his full mouth, but he kept his eyes closed.
“Can’t say I’m sorry about that,” Sebastian murmured, tugging lightly at the blond strands of Tristan’s hair. “You’ve had me distracted all semester.”
Tristan opened his eyes at that, looking up at Sebastian. “Not sorry at all.” His smile faded a bit. “Is this going to get you in trouble? I mean, I know technically I’m not in your class anymore and grades are in, but . . . still.”
Sebastian didn’t think it would get him in trouble, at least not officially. If anyone found out about it, though, it might affect his chances of tenure as far as the faculty and administration were concerned. “It’s not against the rules anymore,” he said, carefully. “The timing, though . . . It might not look entirely ethical, if anyone found out.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Tristan assured him, which made Sebastian feel like an ass. If this wasn’t technically against the rules, why should he expect Tristan to keep it a secret because he was worried about what his colleagues would think? “But I’d like to see you again, if you want.”
“I do want,” said Sebastian. “I think that’s fairly obvious. And if you don’t leave now, you won’t get nearly enough sleep for your workout in the morning, because I’ll keep you up way too late showing you just how much I do want that.”
Tristan jumped to his feet with pure athletic grace and extended a hand to Sebastian. “Hey, I’ve worked out on little sleep plenty of times. Some caffeine and a protein shake, and I’ll be good to go.”
Sebastian put his hand in Tristan’s and let Tristan pull him to his feet. “In that case, let me show you the bedroom.”
Tristan and Sebastian exchanged numbers before Tristan left the apartment the next morning. Sebastian had been true to his word and not only kept Tristan up late, but woke him a couple of times—once for more blowjobs and another to exchange slow, deep kisses and tug at each other’s cocks until they made a mess and had to get up to shower.
Despite the lack of sleep, Tristan felt truly refreshed for the first time in weeks. He took a Lyft home to grab his supplies and made himself a quick protein shake to drink on the way to meet Morley and Ryu at Powerhouse.
When Tristan joined them in the lobby, Morley took one look at him and clapped him on the back hard enough to make Tristan stumble. “Congrats on getting laid, Holtzy!”
Tristan laughed, his face heating when several heads turned in their direction, but he didn’t deny it. Why bother when he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face and self-satisfaction was practically radiating from his pores?
Ryu scrutinized him for a moment, then led the way to the locker rooms so they could change and stash their stuff.
The trainer put them through a long, grueling workout, which left Tristan panting and sore, but not even that could dampen his mood. He actually had a spring in his step as he made his way to his Jeep afterward and waved good-bye to Morley and Ryu.
Morley grinned hugely and gave him a thumbs-up as he hefted his massive frame into his cherry-red Hummer. Ryu shook his head, but he had a tiny smile playing around his lips and he returned Tristan’s wave before ducking into his own car.
Tristan rocked out to Lynyrd Skynyrd on the ride home, drumming solos on the steering wheel and singing along off-key.
He didn’t expect to hear from Sebastian for a few days, and if he did, Tristan figured it would be a late-night text looking for a quick and dirty hookup. So it surprised him to get a message from Sebastian that evening once he was home and settled on his couch for a few hours of Battlefield.
Hey, it’s Sebastian. Would you be interested in having lunch tomorrow?
Tristan smiled dopily and typed a reply, accidentally hitting extra keys on the small touchscreen and having to delete letters several times because his big hands were even clumsier than normal.
Tristan: Sure. Where at? Time?
Sebastian: How about Grindhouse? I’ll pick you up at two, if that works for you.
Tristan: Yeah, that’d be good.
They exchanged a few more messages, and Tristan sent Sebastian his address.
Sebastian’s responding See you tomorrow signaled the end of the conversation. Tristan tossed his phone onto the couch and grabbed one of the PlayStation controllers to turn the system on. He was still smiling like a besotted fool, but who cared? No one was there to see him.
Tristan was waiting outside of his building when Sebastian roared up to the curb in a sexy-as-fuck Pontiac GTO. Tristan gaped at the picture Sebastian made behind the wheel, like some modern-day James Dean: black T-shirt, his raven hair slicked back, and dark shades in place over his eyes.
When Tristan stood there staring, Sebastian leaned across the seat and popped open the door. He smirked at Tristan’s undoubtedly stunned expression. “Are you coming?”
Tristan shook himself. “I hope so,” he said cheekily as he slid into the passenger seat. The interior was all black leather and gleaming wood accents. Tristan was tempted to run his hand across the immaculately clean dash but resisted the urge.
“This is gorgeous,” he said instead. “What year?”
“Sixty-five,” Sebastian answered as he pulled out into traffic.
Tristan buckled his seat belt. “Wow. How long have you had it?”
“Almost ten years. It was my gift to myself for my twenty-fifth birthday, after I landed my first job as an assistant professor.”
“Did you buy it like this or did you restore it?”
Sebastian didn’t answer for a moment as he maneuvered around some slower traffic. Once they were cruising again, he threw a quick glance at Tristan. “I restored it. Actually, my father and I did.” Sebastian gave a dry laugh. “He’s a mechanic, and he got me into two things—classic rock and classic cars. Things have been awkward ever since I came out, but at least we’ll always have that.”
Tristan couldn’t think of what to say for a moment. “Well, it’s beautiful,” he said eventually. And it was. Sleek and powerful, like the man who drove it. “I thought you were hot before, but damn, seeing you in this car . . . it makes me wish you could pull over somewhere so I could suck your dick.”
Sebastian made a startled noise, something between a laugh and a groan. “God, you have a mouth on you, huh? I should’ve known you’d be like this.”
Tristan laid a hand on his thigh and scratched his nails against the material of Sebastian’s dark jeans. “Do you mind?”
Sebastian looked at him again. “Oh, no. I know just what to do with a boy like you, Mr. Holt.”
“Not a boy,” Tristan protested, though it sounded weak even to his own ears. What did it say about him that hearing Sebastian refer to him that way made his blood thrum in his veins and his dick perk up? And the Mr. Holt only made it hotter.
Sebastian’s responding smile seemed knowing, and he patted Tristan’s hand before turning his attention back to the road.
Tristan realized he’d unconsciously tightened his fingers. He was gripping Sebastian’s thigh hard, not stroking lightly as he’d intended. He loosened his hold but didn’t pull away. The contact with Sebastian felt good, no matter how small.
“You can suck me off after lunch,” Sebastian said casually. “Except I want you to do it on my bed, nice and slow. If you think you deserve my come, you need to work for it.”
Tristan’s hand spasmed, his fingers digging into the meat of Sebastian’s thigh again. “Fuck. Maybe we should skip lunch.”
“No.” Sebastian’s tone was firm. “You can wait.”
Tristan groaned. He’d been waiting for weeks, and the night of the concert had only whetted his appetite. But he knew Sebastian was right—the anticipation would only make things better in the end.
“Yes, Professor,” Tristan said. This time he was the one to smile when Sebastian’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening.
Yeah, Sebastian liked that, the same way Tristan liked to hear Sebastian call him Mr. Holt. The teacher-student dynamic turned them both on, even though it wasn’t technically true anymore. They could pretend. It wasn’t anyone else’s business.
Grindhouse Killer Burgers fell somewhere between a fast food joint and a sports bar. The atmosphere was loud but relaxed with a combination of sporting events and B movies playing on the scattered television screens. Nobody paid Sebastian and Tristan any particular attention as they found a table and set their number on the edge to wait for their food.
Tristan looked around, and then met Sebastian’s gaze. “Aren’t you worried we might run across someone from the school? I have to admit I was surprised you invited me out to lunch. I thought you’d only text me when you wanted to fuck.”
“I told you I wanted to see you again. I didn’t mean only for sex.” Sebastian paused. “Unless that’s what you want.”
Tristan opened his mouth to answer, but a server appeared to deliver their food.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked as he picked up their table number.
Tristan shot him a grateful smile. “No, thanks.”
Once the guy had moved away, Tristan nervously toyed with one of his fries. “I . . . I don’t only want sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I want that with you. A lot. But . . . this is good too.”
Sebastian nodded. “Good.” He picked up his burger, which dripped with gooey Swiss cheese and sautéed mushrooms.
And that was apparently that. No need for further discussion.
Tristan made quick work of his own food and tried to snag a sweet potato fry from Sebastian’s tray only to get his hand swatted.
“Ask me nicely,” Sebastian said.
Tristan swallowed.
Sebastian waited.
Tristan wet his mouth and watched Sebastian’s eyes darken. “Can I have a fry, Professor?”
“May I,” Sebastian corrected primly.
Tristan grinned. “May I have a fry, Professor?”
Sebastian smirked back. “No, but you can have me instead.”
Tristan stifled a groan and shifted in his seat. “Can we go now?” His voice sounded eager and a little breathless.
“I’m not done yet,” Sebastian said, and proceeded to finish his burger with a methodical slowness that drove Tristan crazy.
He waited, poised on the edge of his chair, and every torturous second felt longer than the last. Tristan couldn’t say if he loved it or hated it.
Then, before all the sweet potato fries were gone, Sebastian shoved a few in Tristan’s direction.
He loved it, Tristan decided, as he bit into a fry. He loved every single moment of the torment.
“I’m glad you came to the concert,” he told Sebastian without thinking.
Sebastian’s gaze shifted away briefly. When he looked back at Tristan, his smile was wry but genuine. “Me too.”