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isacksteban · 27 days ago

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Cinnamom — Strollonso (3) (prev)

A little over a week later, Lance sat at the back of Dr. Alonso’s classroom, tapping his pen absently against his notebook. His mind wasn’t on the lecture — truly, it hadn't been since they started this little arangement. It wasn’t even on the upcoming exam. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the awkward dinner he’d had with his father and the way Fernando had reassured him afterward.

It had been tense, but Lance got through it — mostly because of Fernando (and his cock.)

Now, though, things felt different.

Fernando had been more distant this past week. Professional. Careful. He still held Lance’s gaze longer than he should, still lingered when they crossed paths, but it wasn’t the same.

Lance hated it.

How could Fernando let him get so close, let him feel every inch of his body, just to suddenly decide it was too much? It wasn't fair.

“Mr. Stroll,” Fernando called from the front, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Can you answer the question?”

Lance blinked, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention — realizing half the class had passed by and he hadn't heard a word. The class chuckled quietly, and Fernando’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Maybe you’d like to join me in my office after class to review?” Fernando said, his voice casual, but his gaze intense.

Lance’s heart leapt. He nodded quickly, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, sure.”

When class ended, Lance lingered as the others filed out. Once they were alone, Fernando closed the door, leaning against it.

“You’ve been distracted,” Fernando observed, his voice low.

Lance crossed his arms. “And you’ve been avoiding me.”

Fernando sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I had to. After the encounter with Lawrence… I needed to be careful.”

Lance frowned. “Careful? You said you weren’t going anywhere. You said you weren't scared.”

“I’m not,” Fernando assured, stepping closer. “But I also have to protect you. If anyone finds out…”

Lance grabbed Fernando’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t care who knows.”

Fernando cupped Lance’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently along his jaw. “You should care.”

“I only care about you.” Lance leaned into his touch. “So stop pulling away. It’s driving me fuckingcrazy.”

Fernando shook his head softly. “Language, Lancito.”

Lance smiled. “Sorry, sir.”

Fernando kissed him then — slow and deliberate, like he’d been holding back for too long. Lance melted into it, his arms wrapping around Fernando’s neck, pulling him closer.

When they finally broke apart, Fernando rested his forehead against Lance’s. “I’m done keeping my distance.”

“Good,” Lance whispered, breathless. “Because I need you.”

“And you have me,” Fernando promised, his voice firm. “Now shoo, I actually have work to do.”

Lance grinned at Fernando’s words, stepping back reluctantly. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.”

Fernando laughed, watching him leave with a lingering gaze. As the door shut behind Lance, Fernando sighed, shaking his head. He was already counting the minutes until he could see him again.

After his last class of the day, Lance made his way to Esteban’s dorm, texting as he walked.

Lance:

Coming over. I’m bored.

Esteban:

Perfect timing.

Charles is here too.

🍕🍕🍕

Lance smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. By the time he reached Esteban’s door, the two were already lounging on the couch, laughing over something on TV.

“Lance!” Esteban greeted, tossing him a soda. “Finally.”

“Miss me that much?” Lance teased, flopping down beside them.

They spent hours catching up, laughing and talking about anything but school. The sun dipped below the horizon, and before Lance knew it, the clock read past midnight.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Fernando:

Where are you?

Lance bit his lip, heart skipping a beat.

Lance:

Este's. Why?

There was a long pause before Fernando’s next message.

Fernando:

I need you.

Lance stared at the text, his pulse quickening.

Lance:

I’ll be there soon.

“Guys, I gotta go,” he announced, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

Esteban raised an eyebrow. “At this hour?”

“Yeah.” Lance shot them a quick grin. “Something came up.”

Charles smirked knowingly. “Dr. Alonso?”

Lance’s cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

Esteban laughed. “Go, go. Don’t keep him waiting.”

When Lance finally arrived at Fernando’s house, he barely had time to knock before the door opened.

Fernando stood there, eyes dark and intense. “You took your time.”

Lance stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “You missed me that much?”

Fernando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he grabbed Lance by the collar, pulling him into a heated kiss. Lance melted against him, hands gripping Fernando’s waist.

As they broke apart, Fernando whispered, “Missed you.”

Lance grinned, breathless. “Good.”

Fernando’s lips curved into a smirk. “Now, let me show you exactly how much I missed you.”

Lance didn’t need any more convincing. He followed Fernando willingly, his heart pounding in anticipation.

With a shudder, Lance senses a hand breach the waistband of his sweats and descend, bold fingers wrapping around his cock and stroking. He exhales harshly, little moans slipping out between gasps as Fernando's grip becomes surer, tightening around the head of his cock and thumbing over his slit. Kicking off his clothes might be easier, but Lance feels paralyzed by his touch, unable to do more than blindly feel for the button of Fernando's pants and fumble them open.

Instinct takes over from there, and before either of them can get another full breath in, Fernando's erection is hot and weighty in the palm of his hand, and he too is uttering low groans and trembling with each circuit of Lance's roving hand.

Finding his way to the Spaniard's neck, Lance's teeth bite down, earning him a pronounced shudder and a firm pull of his cock. He makes a trail in this way, alternately using lips and teeth to provoke the reactions he craves. Beneath his assault, Fernando is uncharacteristically pliant; seemingly the only part of him still functioning on a normal level are his fingers. Maybe, just maybe, it's not that unreasonable to think he isn't used to the touch of another person. The stray thought sinks like a brick, crushing yet alluring, into the pit of Lance's stomach, and he groans into the divot of Fernando's collarbone.

Is it worse to wonder about that, or to like the idea so much?

Both seem less than honorable, but currently, Lance isn't sure he has the brainpower to debate it further. Instead, he redoubles his efforts, stroking faster until the cadence of Fernando's voice grows choppy, punctuated by sharp intakes of breath. Caught between the wall and him, Fernando's eyes finally slam shut, and his hips jut forward, fucking through the waves of release into Lance's fist. His recovery is quick, however, and before Lance can even try to finish himself off, Fernando mirrors his pace with firm strokes of his hand until he too feels the wind knocked out of him, and collapses with a moan into Fernando's shoulder.

They remain pressed together for several long moments, feeling the collective warmth stored between them and attempting to regain their composure.

"Finally," is the first word to hit the air afterward. Lance fingers trace a lazy circle at the small of Fernando's back. "I've been thinking about this all day, Nando."

"I'm aware," Fernando mutters gruffly into the Canadian's skin.

How could he not be? Observation is a natural strength of his, but Lance's persistence drives home the truth all the more.

"Get some sleep," he adds for good measure. Because in some ways, he's still a responsible adult.

"I'm heading back," Lance agrees. The lack of reluctance on his face makes it clear — there'll be a next time to savor — but now he has to go back to Esteban's place before his dad notices he left. He turns on his heel before leaving, glancing over his shoulder with a smile.

The next day, a girl — most likely a year or two younger than Lance — stood at the front of the classroom, her hands nervously clutching her notebook. The chatter of students filled the room as they waited for Dr. Alonso to arrive, but she had only one person in her sights — Lance.

Lance sat near the back, laughing with Esteban and Charles, completely unaware of the determined look on her face. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and began walking toward him.

Esteban was the first to notice her approach, his brows lifting in curiosity. “Uh, Lance? Incoming.”

Lance glanced up, confused at first, but his expression softened when he saw her, always greeting people with a smile no matter who. “Hey, Bianca. What’s up?”

She stopped in front of him, cheeks flushed. “I need to talk to you.”

Lance raised an eyebrow, an inquisitive smile tugging at his lips. “Right now?”

“Yes.” Bianca swallowed hard, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, and… well, I like you, Lance. A lot.”

The room fell silent. Charles shot Esteban a wide-eyed look, while Jessica and Zhou exchanged awkward glances.

Lance blinked, caught off guard. “Oh.”

“I know it’s a bit sudden,” Bianca continued, nervously twisting her fingers together. “But I had to say it. You’re kind, funny, and I… You know, I just think we’d be good together.”

Before Lance could respond, the door opened, and Dr. Alonso walked in, his gaze immediately finding Lance. Fernando paused mid-step, taking in the scene — Bianca standing close to Lance, the tension in the room palpable. His eyes narrowed.

“Take your seats,” Fernando said, his voice obviously more aggitated than it had been for previous lectures. "We have an exam to prepare for."

Bianca glanced at Lance, waiting for a response, but Lance only murmured, “I… we should talk later.”

Reluctantly, Bianca nodded and returned to her seat — which was, thankfully, on the opposite side of the room.

As the students settled, Fernando’s gaze lingered on Lance longer than necessary, his expression unreadable. Lance shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that stare, his heart pounding for entirely different reasons now.

Throughout the lecture, Fernando’s usual composed demeanor was tinged with an edge of irritation. His eyes flicked toward Lance more often than usual, catching Lance’s gaze every time.

When the class ended, Lance lingered, waiting for the room to empty — he didn't want Fernando to get the wrong idea.

Fernando approached slowly, his arms crossed. “So. Bianca.”

Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I— Nando, It's not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?” Fernando’s voice was low, laced with jealousy.

“She confessed. I didn’t say yes.” Lance stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Because I’m not interested in her. You know that.”

Fernando’s jaw clenched. “She clearly doesn’t.”

Lance smirked, leaning in slightly. “Maybe I should make it clearer, then.”

Fernando’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How?”

Lance’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You could start by kissing me.”

Fernando glanced at the door, ensuring they were alone before stepping closer. “You’re trouble, Lance.”

“And you love it.”

Fernando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s lips, lingering just long enough to leave no doubt about who Lance belonged to.

When they pulled apart, Fernando whispered, “I’ll make sure everyone knows.” Though, they both knew Fernando was simply exaggerating, they understood what they had had to be kept a secret.

Lance grinned. “Including Bianca?”

Fernando chuckled. “Especially Bianca.”

Lance laughed softly, resting his forehead against Fernando’s. “She really did make you jealous, hm?”

Fernando’s hands slid down to rest on Lance’s waist, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles. “You should know by now, Lancito… I don’t like to share.”

Lance’s heart fluttered at the possessive edge in Fernando’s voice. “You know you don’t have to.”

Fernando pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. “Still, I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance. Especially not someone like Bianca.”

"She's your student, Nando," Lance snorted. “Plus, she’s harmless.”

Fernando’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Harmless until she confesses her feelings in front of half my class.”

“Alright, that was awkward,” Lance admitted with a grin. “But I handled it well, didn’t I Nando?” He hummed, eyes almost begging for praise.

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “By running straight into my office after?”

“I knew you’d handle the rest,” Lance frowned, wrapping his arms around Fernando’s neck.

Fernando’s expression softened as he leaned in, kissing Lance again. This time, the kiss was slower, more lingering, the kind that sent a shiver down Lance’s spine.

When they finally pulled apart, Fernando’s voice was quiet but firm. “No more hiding how we feel when it’s just us.”

Lance nodded, his gaze steady. “And outside of here?”

Fernando sighed, brushing a stray curl from Lance’s forehead. “We’ll be careful. But I won’t ever let you doubt that you’re mine.”

Lance’s cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through him at the words. “I like the sound of that.”

Fernando’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “Good. Now, let’s make sure you never forget it.”

Before Lance could respond, Fernando backed him up against the desk, hands sliding under Lance’s shirt. The tension between them was electric, a slow burn that neither of them seemed willing to extinguish.

Lance left Fernando’s office feeling utterly satisfied and completely wrecked. His legs wobbled slightly, and he cursed under his breath as he tried to walk normally. His jeans felt uncomfortably tight, and every step reminded him of what had just happened against Fernando’s desk — of the hands, the whispered words, the way Fernando had completely unraveled him.

As he exited the building, Lance caught sight of a few classmates still lingering outside. He straightened his back, forcing a casual expression onto his face, though he could feel their curious gazes.

“Long meeting with Dr. Alonso?” Zhou teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lance grinned, ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Right.” Zhou shot him a knowing look before heading off.

Lance shook his head and made his way home, thankful for the quiet streets. But as he entered the house, the familiar sound of his father’s voice made him pause.

“Son?”

Lawrence stood in the hallway, glancing up from his phone. His eyes narrowed as he took in his son’s appearance — the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way Lance was walking like he’d just run a marathon.

“You alright?” Lawrence asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

Lance froze, heart pounding. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re walking funny.”

Lance swallowed hard, forcing a laugh. “Oh, uh… I tripped on the stairs at school.”

Lawrence’s brow furrowed. “The stairs?”

“Yeah. Totally wiped out.” Lance gestured vaguely toward his legs. “Banged my knee pretty bad.”

Lawrence’s eyes lingered on him for a moment too long, and Lance could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“You need to be more careful,” Lawrence finally said, shaking his head. “You’ve got to take more care of yourself if you expect me to allow you to move out.”

“I know, I will,” Lance promised quickly. “It’s nothing serious.”

Lawrence nodded, distracted again by his phone. “Good. Chloe is coming for dinner.”

As soon as his father walked away, Lance slid into the living room and his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a message from Fernando.

Fernando:

Home safe?

Lance smiled, typing back.

Lance:

Yeah.

My dad thinks I tripped on the stairs.

Fernando:

You’re terrible at lying, Lancito.

Lance:

Not as bad as you are at being subtle.

My legs are dead, old man.

Fernando:

Good.

Now you’ll think of me every time you walk.

Lance laughed quietly, shaking his head. He could still feel Fernando’s hands on him, the lingering ache a reminder of everything they’d done in such a short amount of time.

Lance:

I already do.

Next day's exam was serious — Lance could tell just by seeing the look on Zhou’s face, the way his friend’s brows were furrowed from concentration and not from arguing with people on Twitter. Everyone in Dr. Alonso’s ethics class was laser-focused, heads down, pens moving furiously across their papers. Everyone… except Lance.

He leaned back in his chair, lazily tapping his pen against the desk. The questions on his exam sheet blurred together, the words losing meaning. His mind was elsewhere — on the man sitting at the front of the room.

Fernando Alonso.

His professor looked effortlessly perfect, as always. The fitted white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the top button undone, revealing a hint of tanned skin. His sleeves were rolled up just enough to expose his tattoo, and Lance couldn’t help but admire the way his veins stood out when he adjusted his watch. That had become a daily occurrence since Lance had, half-jokingly, mentioned how much he loved seeing Fernando’s arms during one of their secret late-night rendezvous.

Now, Fernando did it every class.

Lance sighed, twirling his pen between his fingers before lowering it to the paper. A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he skimmed the first question.

Question 1: Define deontological ethics and explain how it applies in a business setting.

He scrawled:

"Deontological ethics is essentially following what society feels is right, like not hypothetically inviting your professor over to your house when your father is home and letting him fuck you in every position imaginable."

He glanced up, biting his lip to suppress a laugh. Fernando was scanning the room, his expression stern, completely unaware of the inappropriate content Lance was jotting down just feet away.

Question 2: Discuss the ethical implications of conflicts of interest in professional settings.

"My biggest conflict right now? Deciding whether I want to kiss you senseless or strip you out of that shirt. Let’s just say ethics is the last thing on my mind. :)"

Lance chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he moved on to the next question.

Question 3: Provide a real-life example of ethical boundaries being crossed in a workplace.

"Real-life example? Easy. You and me, Nando. Every lingering glance, every stolen moment, every touch that leaves me wanting more. We’ve crossed every boundary there is (I don’t regret a thing.)"

He glanced up again, catching a brief flicker of Fernando’s gaze meeting his. The professor quickly looked away, but Lance knew.

He knew.

Question 4: What is the importance of maintaining professionalism in high-stakes environments?

"Professionalism? You’re really going to lecture me about professionalism when you can’t keep your hands off me? Are you sure you’re qualified to teach this course with me in it? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest distraction you’ve ever faced."

When he reached the final page, Lance couldn’t resist a little flourish to his signature.

"P.S. — If you don’t call me into your office after reading this, I’ll be very disappointed. But if you do… lock the door. ♡"

The clock ticked down, students began filing out one by one, but Lance took his sweet time. Finally, he stood, strolling to the front of the room, exam paper in hand. He dropped it face down on Fernando’s desk, lingering just long enough to catch his professor’s attention.

“Finished already?” Fernando asked, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

Lance leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful. “I think you’ll want to take your time with my answers.”

Fernando’s lips twitched, as though suppressing a smile. “Is that so?”

Lance winked. “Oh, definitely.”

He turned to leave, heart pounding in his chest. Just as he reached the door, Fernando’s voice rang out, soft but commanding.

“Mr. Stroll?”

Lance froze, hand on the doorframe. Slowly, he turned back, his breath hitching.

Fernando’s gaze was unreadable, his expression carefully composed. “See me after class.”

The room emptied, leaving them alone. Lance approached the desk, his pulse quickening as Fernando picked up the exam, flipping through the pages. His brows lifted slightly at Lance’s audacious answers, but instead of reprimanding him, Fernando closed the paper, meeting Lance’s gaze with a smirk.

“You know,” Fernando began, standing and walking around the desk until he was mere inches from Lance, “this is highly inappropriate.”

Lance’s breath hitched, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I thought you liked inappropriate.”

Fernando chuckled, reaching out to trace a finger along Lance’s jaw. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want, Professor.”

Fernando’s grip tightened slightly, pulling Lance closer. “Lock the door.”

Lance's heart pounded in his chest as he reached behind him, his fingers fumbling for the lock. The soft click of the door securing echoed in the silence, and when he turned back, Fernando was still standing there — eyes dark, lips curved into a devilish smirk.

“You’re unbelievable,” Fernando murmured, his voice low, laced with amusement and something far more dangerous. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Lance shrugged, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. “I figured you’d notice. I was counting on it.”

Fernando chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Lance’s spine. “So bold today, mi chico travieso.”

Lance grinned. “Only for you.”

Without warning, Fernando closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around Lance’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Lance gasped softly as Fernando’s lips brushed against his ear.

“And what am I supposed to do with a student who writes that kind of nonsense on his exam?”

Lance tilted his head, giving Fernando better access to his neck. “You could give me detention.”

Fernando laughed, his breath hot against Lance’s skin. “I think you’ve already got me in enough trouble.”

He kissed Lance then — slow, deep, and deliberate. Lance melted into it, his hands gripping Fernando’s shirt, pulling him closer, desperate for more. Every kiss from Fernando was intoxicating, but this one felt different. There was a tension simmering beneath the surface, a risk they both craved.

Fernando pulled back, his hands never leaving Lance’s hips. “You want to know what I feel when I look at you?”

Lance nodded breathlessly.

“I think about how reckless this is.” His thumb traced circles on Lance’s hip bone. “How wrong it should be.”

“But?” Lance prompted, his voice barely a whisper.

Fernando leaned in again, his lips hovering over Lance’s. “But I can’t stop.”

Lance kissed him again, harder this time, hands sliding up Fernando’s chest, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric. “Good,” he murmured against Fernando’s lips. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Fernando’s hands slipped lower, gripping Lance’s thighs and effortlessly lifting him onto the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, but neither of them cared. Lance wrapped his legs around Fernando’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

“This is crazy,” Fernando whispered, trailing kisses down Lance’s neck. “We shouldn’t—”

“Then don’t stop.” Lance’s voice was a plea, his hands tangling in Fernando’s hair. “Please.”

Fernando groaned, his resolve breaking completely. His hands roamed under Lance’s shirt, fingers tracing every curve and scar, committing them to memory. Lance’s breath hitched as Fernando kissed his way down his chest, pausing only to murmur softly in Spanish — words Lance didn’t fully understand but felt in his bones.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Fernando whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Lance smirked, tilting his head back as Fernando kissed a line across his collarbone. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Fernando’s hands worked their way to the hem of Lance’s shirt, fingers tugging it up slowly, teasingly, as if savoring every inch of exposed skin. He kissed along Lance’s jawline, pausing just by his ear.

“When’s your next class, mi sol?” His voice was low, husky, filled with barely restrained desire.

Lance’s mind spun, barely able to process the question with Fernando’s hands sliding under his shirt, palms warm against his skin. “Uh… I think—” He gasped as Fernando’s lips found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “I think I’ve got time.”

Fernando chuckled against his skin, pushing the shirt up and over Lance’s head before tossing it aside. “You think?”

Lance grinned, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’m sure.”

“Good.” Fernando’s hands moved to Lance’s belt, fingers deftly undoing the buckle. “Because I don’t want to rush.”

Lance bit his lip as Fernando’s knuckles brushed against his stomach. “What if someone comes back?”

Fernando glanced up, his gaze dark and intense. “Then we’ll have to be quiet.”

Lance’s pulse quickened as Fernando leaned in, pressing a kiss just below his navel. “I’m not great at quiet.”

Fernando smirked, fingers slowly sliding Lance’s belt free and letting it drop to the floor with a soft clink. “I’ll just have to make you bite your lip then.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Or mine.”

Lance shivered, his hands resting on Fernando’s shoulders. “You really have no shame, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you.” Fernando’s fingers found the button of Lance’s jeans, popping it open effortlessly. “You make me reckless.”

Lance’s heart thudded in his chest as Fernando tugged his jeans down, leaving him in just his boxers. Fernando’s eyes trailed over him slowly, appreciatively, before returning to his face.

“You’re gorgeous,” Fernando murmured, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist, pulling him into another deep kiss. Lance melted into it, fingers tangling in Fernando’s hair again, tugging gently.

As they broke apart, both of them breathless, Fernando’s hands slid lower, gripping Lance’s hips. “So… how much time do we really have?”

Lance grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, murmuring against his lips. “Enough.”

Fernando’s eyes darkened at Lance’s response, a slow smile spreading across his face. Without breaking eye contact, he reached back, pushing the contents of his desk to the side in one fluid motion.

Lance blinked, startled by the sudden movement, but before he could say a word, Fernando grabbed him by the waist and spun him around, pressing him firmly against the now-empty desk.

“Hands flat,” Fernando murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Don’t move.”

Lance shivered, his palms pressing against the cool wood. His heart pounded in his chest as Fernando stood behind him, his hands sliding over Lance’s back, tracing the line of his spine.

“You’ve been driving me mad all week,” Fernando whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of Lance’s neck. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, watching you in my class, knowing I can’t touch you? Knowing no one here knows you belong to me?”

Lance gasped as Fernando’s hands slipped lower, over the curve of his hips. “I think I have an idea.”

Fernando chuckled, his lips trailing kisses across Lance’s shoulder. “You’ve been testing my control.”

“And now?” Lance glanced back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Are you still in control?”

Fernando gripped Lance’s hips tighter, bending him forward slightly. “Not even a little.”

Lance smirked, arching his back slightly to press against Fernando. “Good.”

Fernando groaned, his composure slipping further as he pressed his erection against Lance, hands roaming greedily over his body. “I’m going to make you regret writing those answers.”

“Doubt it,” Lance teased, breath hitching as Fernando’s fingers brushed his bare skin. “I’ll just write more next time.”

Fernando chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here you are, Professor.” Lance shot back, voice breathless, “bending me over your desk.”

Fernando kissed along Lance’s shoulder again, his hands steadying Lance’s hips. “And I’ll do it again.”

“Promise?” Lance asked, biting his lip to stifle a gasp as Fernando’s hands wandered lower.

Fernando smirked against his skin. “Oh, Lancito… I’m just getting started.”

Fernando let his hands slide over the perfect silk skin of Lance’s legs until he reached his university hoodie. “Looking so innocent, the perfect student, but in the meantime,” he pulls the hoodie over Lance's head, then his jeans and boxers, letting the boy lean completely naked against his desk, “fucking his professors.”

“Professor,” Lance corrects him, “only one.”

“That’s right, mmi sol,” Fernando drawls, placing his hands under Lance's thighs and turning hum aroind before hoisting him up the desk. “I am so lucky.”

Lance groans when Fernando lets his hands trail over Lance's chest and graces his nipples with his nails before taking both pink numbs between his fingers and pinching. “So pretty for me,” Fernando tells the boy and Lance throws his head back and pulls his legs up the edge of the desk while Fernando rolls the pretty brown buds between his fingers.

“Please, Daddy, I need– need–” Lance pants, not phased by the new term or his words not coming in coherent sentences. Fernando chuckles slightly as Lance spreads his legs a bit wider.

“I know, baby, I’ll give you what you need,” Fernando promises, removing one hand from Lance's chest and using it to open his belt buckle, “patience.”

He squats down again, hearing his knees crack as he leans in to lick a stripe over the perfect little hole. Lance moans, almost too loud, the walls of the offices aren’t that thick, but Fernando revels in the idea of someone overhearing them as he licks again, and again. The fingers of his left hand still work Lance's nipple, while his tongue works itself inside him and his right hand finds his own cock. Stroking himself in tandem with his movements makes Lance's arousal rise and he wants to bury himself in the boy so badly.

“Do you think you can be good for me and turn, baby?”

Lance lets his legs fall to the floor immediately and turns around, his arse perking out and his hands flat on the desk. “Like this, Daddy?” He purrs, testing the waters.

“Perfect, peque.”

With a bit of effort, Fernando gets back to his feet and walks around the desk, opening the drawer to grab the almost empty bottle of lube. “Looks like we’re almost out,” he grins and Lance lifts his head to meet Fernando's gaze. He smirks, too, with a shrug.

“Exam stress is getting to me hard.”

“Oh, I know, baby,” Fernando muses, though he knew the last thing Lance was worried about was any work in this class — coming back behind the boy and lubing himself up before putting some on his index and middle finger to insert them into Lance with a precise push. The boy moans filthy and Fernando grins. “Let’s relieve some of that stress shall we?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” Lance moans, letting his cheek rest on the desk.

"Watch it." Fernando warns whime opening him up quickly, replacing his fingers with his stiff cock, thrusting into Lance with fervour. He leans over and takes Lance's cock in his hand, stroking him while thrusting deeply. “That better, Lancito?”

“Fuck, yes, Nando,” Lance moans, his hot breath condensing on the desk. “So much better.”

Fernando fucks him thoroughly and it’s not long after that Lance is whining out that he is coming. Fernando is not even nearly there and he lets Lance catch his breath for a second before he starts moving again. “I think we can go for another one, what about you, mi amor?”

The gasp coming from Lance is a mix of excitement and trepidation. Fernando laughs and glides his hands over Lance's back as he thrusts in again, harsh and quick. “God, you feel so good, baby.”

“Oh, shi— shoot, frick, that’s–” Lance moans, not getting to say what he thinks because Fernando is hitting his prostate and the only thing he can mutter is ‘so good’.

“Yeah, want to feel good baby?”

“Yes, please” Lance croons, lifting his head slightly. Fernando slides out and turns the other around, lifting him up to the desk before thrusting back in. Lance's fierce eyes look up at Fernando and he feels the pleasure in his abdomen increase tenfold when the boy smiles at him. “Hi, Sir.”

The view is gone quickly when Fernando leans over him and takes one of Lance's nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking at it. Lance's eyes close and his head is thrown back in the sensation. Fernando can feel his already stiff cock against his abdomen and reaches for it with a last flick of his tongue.

“Hi, beautiful,” he groans, feeling his orgasm approach while he pumps his fist around Lance's hard cock and thrusts so hard that the desk is rocking. “Eyes on me.”

They shoot open and Lance sees the foggy look that has come over Fernando, making the older man smile. “Are you going to cum for me again, mi sol?”

“Nando, sir, please, too much, too–” Lance pants as Fernando speeds up his handwork and thrusts with aim to hit Lance's prostate. “Oh, fu—uck, fuck, fuck!”

White spurs over Fernando's hand but he doesn’t let go, keeping the spent cock warm with his large hand while he fucks himself to his climax. The desk scratches over the floor and Lance lies on it, spent and a happy, dazed smile on his lips when Fernando finds his release. He folds over the other man with a deep groan and a heavy sigh.

It’s silent in the room for a bit, Fernando just gathering his wits and Lance panting from the excursion. There is a hand in Fernando's hair and he smiles from the small act of sweetness from the boy.

" 'M sorry, Nano" Lance mumbled, Fernando knowing why the boy was so quick to apologize.

"Don't worry about it, Lancito" Fernando smiled, pressing a kiss to his student's cheek before pulling back to help him dress.