Chapter Text
Crowley had never been a morning person, and the rush hour traffic on the way to the campus was making him feel justified in this. He was mostly abiding by the highway code, unlike most of the drivers he was encountering.
“It’s my right of way, you clown!” he shouted, shaking his fist as yet another car honked at him for daring to cycle on the road.
He was well into a bad mood when he heard the roar of a motorbike approaching behind him. A rich boy in pristine, white bike leathers riding a white and chrome trimmed Kawasaki came to a stop at the line for the lights next to him. Crowley glanced over, eyes narrowed, wondering if a jibe was coming. The helmeted head tilted right back at him.
“You should wear a helmet,” the white clad biker said in a well spoken, if muffled voice, before tearing off at speed as the lights changed to yellow.
“Tsss,” Crowley tutted. Posh wanker.
Crowley entered the campus having safely secured his bike in the racks nearby, double checking his itinerary for the day. He had orientation for two hours, then his first and only lecture of the day. Brilliant.
He looked up from his reading when he heard a familiar roar of an engine. It was the same posh wanker from before, parking his Kawasaki in one of the spaces surrounding the walls. Crowley stopped to watch as the rider unstrapped his helmet. He couldn’t wait to see what sort of pimply faced nepo-baby was under there.
The rider pulled the helmet forwards, revealing a face Crowley wasn’t expecting. The rider was at least his age, if not older. His white blonde waves were swept back from his face in a sensible quiff, slightly mussed from the helmet. The same colour hair covered his face in a well maintained beard and moustache, the softness of it complimenting a slightly up-turned nose and sharp blue eyes.
Crowley was struck dumb. The proud posture that had come across as arrogant when he’d thought the rider was a youth, was nothing but alluring on the well-built man. The sight of him confidently straddling the machine between his legs made Crowley clench his jaw around an involuntary “Ngk”. The blonde man looked authoritative, controlled.
The man dismounted the bike and gave Crowley an impassive look as he walked past him into the grounds of the campus. The look rooted Crowley to the spot. It was calm, collected, penetrating. The bright blue eyes with slightly creeping smile lines demanded compliance, even with a fleeting glance. Crowley still hadn’t regained the power of intelligent speech so wisely decided to keep his mouth shut, lest he embarrass himself more than he already was; standing stock still and staring like an idiot, heat rising on his high cheekbones. Damn it, Crowley.
A bell rang across the campus, shocking Crowley as he realised he was now alone in the quad. He took off at a run, trying to put the man and his azure eyes out of his mind.
Hours later, Crowley was slumped over the desk in the lecture theatre. His brain was mush from the two hours of small talk with new people he wasn’t particularly interested in. He was here to study the cosmos anyway, not make friends. Bored, half-lidded eyes snapped open to attention when he saw a familiar face enter the room.
It was the biker from earlier. Only now he was dressed in a bright navy blue two-piece suit. If Crowley had thought the man was a vision of calm authority before, it was nothing to how he looked now. Crowley sat up in rapt attention, head tilted like a puppy figuring out a sound, watching the man arrange papers on his desk.
The man began to introduce himself as Professor Fell, taking in the room at large, blue eyes giving the lecture theatre a lazy sweep as he did so. His attention fell unmistakably on Crowley, glancing at him from under his eyelashes. His lip quirked up in a soft, lopsided smile. In an instant, Crowley was convinced the professor knew exactly what he was doing to him. The heat returned to his cheekbones, blushing red and Crowley broke the gaze between him and the professor, humiliated as desire began to prickle at him.
Bastard, Crowley thought, trying to not lose himself in fantasies of the professor’s mouth and hands and he twisted in his seat.
“Can I help you?” the professor asked, amusement in his voice, not granting Crowley eye contact. Crowley had paused in front of Fell’s desk after class, his fellow students all rushing to leave around them.
This is really stupid, just walk away, the sensible part of Crowley thought. The restless part of him was currently at the wheel, however, and he’d been mulling over being told to wear a helmet by someone who didn’t even know him, someone who amused himself by getting his student all hot and bothered. He’d endured an hour and a half of avoiding the professor's gaze whenever he looked vaguely in Crowley’s general direction, lest he smile that knowing smile again and turn Crowley’s insides to jelly.
Prick, Crowley seethed internally.
“Look, I’m not some daddy’s boy, alright?” Crowley growled, placing his gloved, black nailed hands down on the professor's neat desk. “I had to choose between paying for my class or buying a helmet.”
“Oh…” the older man said, contemplatively, “I see”. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a bunch of bank notes. “Here,” he said, holding it out to Crowley. When Crowley didn’t take it, staring wide eyed and silent again, Fell tucked it into the pocket of Crowley’s jacket. “Buy yourself a helmet,” he said, reaching up to Crowley’s face and pressing his thumb to Crowley’s bottom lip, exposing his teeth. “It would be a shame for that pretty little mug of yours to go bad."
Fuck. A firestorm of feelings burned at Crowley; shame, anger, exhilaration, each searing in their own way. Crowley remained silent, the professor's thumb on his lip. Something about the man commanded silence and attention from him.
“What are you waiting for, boy?” the professor asked, sounding bored. Crowley smirked. He’d not been called “boy” for a good few years now, not since the crows feet had begun to settle in. “To be slammed against a wall and passionately kissed?”
“Heh, might be…” Crowley finally said, plastering on a cocky smile and a suggestive raised eyebrow. If the professor wanted to make him squirm, he was sure as hell going to make him squirm back if he could.
In an instant, strong arms seized Crowley by the lapels of his jacket, throwing him against the wall behind him, calling Crowley’s bluff.
“Very well, then,” the professor said, blue eyes almost beseeching, level with Crowley’s yellow slitted ones.
Eh, fuck it, Crowley thought, and brought his mouth against the professor’s, moving a gloved hand up to feel Fell’s beard and hair, parting his lips to bring their tongues together in a sensuous give and take. They teased each other; the soft smack of lips the only noise in the silent space of the classroom as the professor reached a hand down to Crowley’s waist, to tug at his belt.
Fell broke away from kissing Crowley, fingers poised on his belt buckle and asked “Shall I continue, or is that enough for you?” Fell asked, looking earnestly into Crowley’s eyes. Crowley was surprised by the self control the man was demonstrating after slamming him into a wall.
“Go for it,” he said, nonplussed. The professor was about to get a surprise, anyhow.
Nimble fingers made short work of Crowley’s belt buckle, undoing it and slipping it free from the loops of Crowley’s waistband. He slipped a hand into Crowley’s underwear, and paused in realisation.
“Well. That is interesting,” the professor said in mild surprise, staring down at Crowley’s waist. Crowley felt smug that he was able to throw the confident man off his stride, even just slightly.
“Did you expect something else?” Crowley smirked with false bravado, expecting their liaison to very swiftly end now Fell had discovered he didn’t have a cock. “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
“Not in the least…” the professor rumbled, bringing his fingers to his mouth. Oh fuck , thought Crowley. “I do like a challenge,” Fell finished, licking his index and middle fingers, coating them with saliva. Oh hell.
The rough finger fucking Crowley had been expecting didn’t occur. Instead, he felt Fell’s fingers delicately explore the folds of his sex, gliding smoothly over, slicked with spit. The professor alternated between teasing at his entrance and moving back up to his dicklit. No one had touched Crowley like this but himself for a long time, and he threw back his head against the wall, quickly overwhelmed by the gentle sensations. He was only dimly aware of Fell's other hand behind him cushioning his head from the wall, all thought and sensation focused on the growing arousal between his legs.
Crowley felt the fingers withdraw slightly and cease their movements. “Why did you stop?” Crowley asked, confused as the professor stepped back from him.
“Oh, would you like more?” Fell asked.
“...Yeah.” Crowley replied. Isn’t it obvious?
The professor leaned in to murmur in Crowley’s ear. “Then beg me.”
Silence filled the room as the two men both stilled. Crowley leaned back, shocked, to look into Fell's face. The professor was being serious.
“Please,” Crowley murmured, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the situation.
“I didn’t hear you, boy,” Fell said, proffering his ear with mock deafness.
“Please, Professor Fell!” Crowley called out with a smirk, his voice sarcastic.
“You know, insolence cannot go unpunished…” Fell said quietly, moving his fingers again to circle at Crowley’s entrance, and finally pressing his fingers inside Crowley’s wet heat, making him tense and bite one of his lip piercings into his mouth with a gasp. He felt adept fingers stroking his inner walls in a beckoning motion, seeking his sweet spot and finding it, sending tremors of pleasure through him.
Crowley's legs grew weak and began to shake, and the professor hitched one of his thighs under the younger man’s knee, half holding him up against the wall. Fell’s thumb drifted up to Crowley’s swelling dicklit, spreading his slick over it, and began to rub in tight circles. Crowley’s eyes glazed over to pleasure as Fell kissed and sucked at his neck, the younger man’s slit pupils barely visible through half closed eyelids.
“Please…” Crowley begged, now completely sincere, holding Fell’s head to his neck. “Please don’t stop this time…”
Fell quickened his movements, flicking the tips of his fingers ceaselessly against Crowley’s g-spot and matching it with continued caresses of his thumb against the younger man’s dicklit. Crowley’s throat made frantic noises completely of its own accord. It was too much all at once; the gentle pressure of Fell’s warm mouth on his neck, the thick thigh spreading his legs open, the clever fingers stroking and caressing at his most intimate places.
His pussy quivered and clenched around the professor's fingers as he came with such intensity needles pricked at his fingertips and toes, throwing back his head and crying out through the liminal silence of the empty classroom. Crowley went slack against the professor as he fought to remain upright.
Fell pulled his fingers away from Crowley’s cunt and smirked at the juices coating his fingers. “Very well,” he said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to clean his hands. “Class dismissed.”
The professor moved away from Crowley, causing him to sink to the floor with nothing to support his dead weight post-pleasure.
“Remember to buy that helmet,” Fell said, still cleaning his fingers as he turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving Crowley alone, staring after him. He sat in shock for a time, his breathing returning to normal. His phone dinged and buzzed in his pocket, bringing him back to reality at last.
“Fuck,” Crowley said out loud to himself, bringing out his phone. There were four texts from Loki, all sent in quick succession.
“I’m there”
“Where r U?”
“Bro”
“U ok??”
“Shit!!” Crowley exclaimed, pushing himself up from the floor and hastening to relace his belt, legs stiff. How long was I on the floor?
Crowley sent a hurried reply to Loki and took off at a run for the second time that day.
He found his brother dutifully waiting at the entrance to the university, the boot of the car open and waiting for Crowley’s bike.
“How was your day?” Loki asked as Crowley deposited his bike in the car and went to take his seat in the front.
“T’was fine,” Crowley replied, not looking back.