[TMA] Kiss your neck with no emotion

[picavasnormandy]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives
Ship: Peter/Elias
Warning: age difference, underage (professore/studente)
Note: scritta per Explorers 0.III con prompt: NSFW | Erotico | Sweet but psycho (Ava Max) | ambientazione scolastica

They pretend it’s just coincidence that everytime Elias crosses the entrance to his classroom outside of lesson hours Lukas is there, sat at the professor desk casually reading through some tests, but it never truly is.  

 

They have to be careful, waiting for school activities to be over and crafting perfect excuses, and luckily they are both very good at it. And how Elias managed to get a copy of the class’ keys for himself to keep – well, that’s a secret he doesn’t wish to reveal anytime soon.   

 

He closes the door behind his back, locking it without even looking, his gaze already drifting towards Lukas, unreciprocated. He leaves the keys on one of the desks as he walks, light as a feather and already savoring the man’s taste, like a wolf slowly and silently dancing around an oblivious lamb. 

 

Lukas doesn’t flinch when Elias sits on his desk, crossing his legs and stretching them across the man’s lap. 

 

“Mr. Bouchard, I am reading, as you might have noticed”, he says, his tone flat and his eyes still locked on the papers. 

 

Elias grins. 

 

“Oh, sorry professor, I hadn’t”, he says, sly and defiant. “How did I do on the test?” 

 

“A perfect score, I imagine. I haven’t graded yours yet.” 

 

Elias raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Should I leave then? Come back when you are done?”, he asks. 

 

And that’s Lukas’ cue to raise his gaze to Elias, slowly, taking off his glasses and gently placing them on the desk. “You leave when I tell you to, Mr. Bouchard.” 

 

Elias smiles, gets closer and then finally leans towards Lukas. “Then don’t make me wait, professor”, he protests, and yet the way he looks at the man, as if ready to devour him, it sounds like an unforgiving demand. 

 

Lukas shivers. He absolutely adores the feeling. 

 

“Get off of my desk first”, he orders. 

 

Elias pauses, opening his legs to surround Lukas instead. “I don’t think I will”, he says. 

 

Lukas doesn’t even look at him. He grabs his thighs, harsh and tight, and drags Elias towards him, almost making him fall. “Don’t push your luck, kid”, he warns, still not letting his legs go. Sometimes Elias forgets how deliciously, intensly rough the professor can be. He loves it when he’s reminded like this. “Get off”, and he lets him go. 

 

Elias smirks. “Yes, sir”, he says almost mockingly. He pushes himself down, falling on Lukas’ lap. “Is it okay like this?” 

 

Lukas stares at his eyes for a long moment – a long, intense moment, that  Elias savours from start to finish. He wants to bite those lips and make them bleed, he needs to hurt, needs some crude intimacy with a man who knows nothing about him, and yet can see so deep into his soul when he holds him in his arms and owns him like a toy. 

 

Lukas doesn’t answer the question. He lets his gaze drift down on Elias’ shirt instead. 

 

“That will need to go.” 

 

Elias grins. 

 

“Oh, so we’re doing anatomy after-class", he says, fingers already busy unbuttoning every button he has on him. “Not my favourite, but I don’t mind some experiments. For science, of course.” 

 

“Shut up, Elias.” 

 

“I volunteer as a subject”, Elias continues, his shirt already forgotten, lying on the floor. 

 

“I don’t need your permission”, Lukas says, grabbing his hands when Elias starts unfastening his belt. “Leave that on for now.” 

 

Elias stops. “As you wish”, he leans down and whispers on the man’s neck, kissing it slowly and gently. “For now.” 

 

They kiss for a long time, Lukas’ hands all over Elias, his teeth pushing against his skin to leave secret marks no one but Elias will witness in the morning. Then Lukas pushes Elias down from his lap, back on his feet again. He relishes the flicker of surprise in Elias’ eyes when he stands up, lips wet and dark and his hair completely undone. 

 

Peter gets up from his chair. 

 

“Get down, Mr. Bouchard.” 

 

“No way”, Elias protests. “The floor is filthy.” 

 

“Get down”, Peter says again, and the way his voice sounds, rigid and crude, makes it clear that he doesn’t enjoy repeating himself. “On your knees.” 

 

Elias doesn’t smile this time. He hesitates, looks away for a moment, but in the end he drops to the floor obediently. 

 

“Good”, Peter comments, leaning against the desk and extending a hand to Elias’ face, gently brushing his cheeks while unfastening his belt. Elias looks up, and when he does Lukas’ fingers twist in his hair, grab him and painfully yank him, mouth open on his cock. 

 

Elias lets out a distressed, choked moan. He has to grab Lukas’ clothes to keep balance, which makes him look even more desperate. He feels the grip on his hair tighten, and a moment later Lukas is forcing him to look up, mouth full and eyes altready wet with tears. 

 

“This is for interrupting my work”, Lukas says calmly, swiping a tear away with his thumb. He guides Elias’ mouth back and then he slams his hips against his face again, suffocating him for a sweet, painful moment. “And this is because you talk too much.”  

 

Lukas doesn’t let go, keeping Elias in place, his cock brushing the boy’s throat. Elias closes his eyes, his mouth sore and his knuckles white, closed on the man’s shirt. 

 

“Elias, look at me.” 

 

Elias doesn’t. This is too much – too much already. 

 

“Oper your eyes and look up”, Peter repeats, again, and Elias knows there better not be a third time. 

 

He slowly, achingly opens his eyes. Lukas smiles, slightly amused. “Good”, he says, and finally lets his hair go. Elias coughs and arches down, knees and elbows on the floor, taking in all the air he can. “Fuck you, Peter”, he pants. 

 

“It’s professor Lukas, kid. Don’t forget good manners. Now get back here, we aren’t finished.” 

 

Elias looks up, nothing but defiance and anger in his eyes. Well, most of it. He hates how much he loves this. 

 

“Come on”, Peter smirks. “You like this, don’t you?”, he mocks. “It won’t hurt this time. Come here.” 

 

He extends a hand, and Elias hurries like the most obedient of puppies. He rubs his cheek against his palm, and Lukas pets him gently, stroking where he grabbed his hair only moments ago. The relief Elias is feels with the touch is exquisite, and he knows he wants more – wants more of the hurting, more of the comfort that comes after. Most of the times at least. 

 

He starts by taking Lukas’ cock in his hand and slowly licking at the head, patiently earning little, discreet moans from the older man. He knows he must look like a worshipper in adoration right now, and that is all he wants Lukas to think of him. Sometimes he opens his eyes just to catch the man staring at him, his gaze so piercing and sharp Elias feels as if they were miles away from each other, even when this is the closest two people could ever be. It makes him feel even smaller – exactly what he was looking for. After all they’ve just been using each other all this time, no love or affection, only this mutual need devoid of any tenderness. 

 

When Lukas finally pushes him back, Elias licks his lips and looks up, an expression of pure adulation on his flushed face. 

 

Lukas lock eyes with him and gets back on his chair, sitting down. 

 

“You can take off your pants now”, he concedes, and Elias readily complies, leaving them on the floor, already unmindful of the filth he so much despised until a moment ago. He stands up and gets closer to Lukas, waiting for a comand. 

 

Lukas smiles and touches his stomach, letting his hand slide down to brush against his thigh before pulling back. 

 

“So quite all of a sudden”, he notices. “You bit your tongue, Mr. Bouchard?” 

 

Instead, Elias bites his lips. He shows the man a little, snarky grin. “Not really what I wanted to bite”, he says. 

 

Lukas’ smile widens. “You are so full of yourself, Elias.” 

 

“And you love that.” 

 

“I don’t love anything about you.” 

 

He pulls Elias towards him, forcing him to straddle across his lap. He takes his chin between his fingers, guide his gaze so they’re looking straight in each other’s face. “You understand?”, he asks, dead serious. 

 

Elias would laugh in his face, but he knows it would not end well for him. Instead he only nods obediently, his fingers already rushing to unbutton Lukas’ shirt. “Don’t fool yourself”, the man lets his face go and kisses him fondly, licking his lips before pulling away. 

 

Elias takes Lukas’ fingers in his mouth, sucking them like his life depended on it. He moans lascivously around them, in a way he knows will drive the man mad, and when Lukas pushes his first wet finger inside of him, Elias falls forhead against his shoulders and lets a long, deep sob escape his swollen lips. 

 

Elias loves this – to be completely naked, arms around Peter’s shoulders, his lips parted and desperate for air, Lukas' cock sunk to the base inside of him, throbbing with greed. He loves to come undone and let any restraint burn to ashes when he’s at the mercy of this man – he love this, he repeats to himself, he doesn’t love Peter, he only loves what they have, and it will never be anything more than a dirty, liberating fuck. 

 

When he’s about to come, Elias leans to rest his teeth on Peter’s naked shoulder. He licks, and rubs and moans loudly, and then, when his cum spurts all across Peter’s abdomen, Elias bites, deep and hard, slamming his hips on the man’s cock. He hears a cry of agony and irritation coming from Peter’s mouth, and he can’t help but curve his lips in a satisfied grin, teeth still tight on his sore skin. 

 

Lukas jerks and strong hands grab Elias by the waist, slamming him onto the desk with no gentle warning. Air gets stuck in his throat as he opens his eyes in suprirse, Lukas looming over him with an irritated expression on his face. 

 

“You are a fucking psycho, Elias”, he says, not content at all, and Elias grins.  

 

“We’re in this together, professor”, he says, so full of himself. 

 

All he sees is Peter wrinkle his nose in anger, before a hand presses on his mouth and nose and pushes. 

 

“I believe I said to shut up.” 

 

Elias’ eyes open wide, his lungs empty and air blocked from his mouth. He raises his hands to grab Lukas’ wrists, tries to push him away – he needs air, he can’t breathe, he’s going to --  

 

“I make decisions in this room, Elias”, his hand doesn’t move, and Elias starts quivering under him. He’s to weak to break from Lukas’ grasp. “And I don’t want to hear you say another word”, Peter continues, pushing even harder. A tear fall down Elias’ cheek and he closes his eyes, desperate.  

 

“Are we clear, Elias?” 

 

Still grabbing Peter’s wrist Elias nods weakly. 

 

“Are we clear?”, Peter asks again, and Elias nods harder, opening his eyes and looking at him, begging. 

 

Peter lets go, and Elias curls up in an agonizing, desperate cough catching for air. “Fuck”, he curses, but his voice rasps against his aching throat and it stings even more painfully. Peter leaves him no time to catch his breath though. He forces him to turn, lifting him like a dead weight, effortlessly, leaving him prone, bent over the desk. A pile of papers falls to the floor, but none of them pays it any mind. The tip of Peter’s cock brushes mockingly against Elias’ hole, and the boy let’s out a miserable cry. 

 

“Peter, please”, he tries to turn his head but the man pushes it against the hard, wooden surface. 

 

“I’m not Peter”, he almost growls, and then pushes into him, deep and hard. 

 

Elias screams. “Sto--! Professor—Professor please, please, please stop”, he begs, but Peter doesn’t seem to listen. He slamns into him once again, and Elias chokes a desperate moan in the palm of Lukas’ hand pinning him down. 

 

“Shut up, Elias. I hate to repeat myself." 

 

And at this point Elias knows the man is not telling jokes at least. He moans, pressed down and aching and just hurt everywhere, Peter’s hand uncaring and heavy on his back, making it difficult for him to even breathe – and god how can he be so in love with something so wrong? Something so painful? 

 

Peter kisses his eralobes when he finally comes, filling his insides with hot, wet cum that drips all over his inner thighs. Elias cries, begging for a reliese he knows all too well Peter will not grant him tonight – he's pushed too many limits, but it’s alright, he loves this, he would never trade this sick pleasure with any pathetic, fake lovers sweetness. That does not belong to them, and if Elias has to break in the end, he wants it to be at the hand of the one man who’s able to destroy him in the most delicious of manners. 

 

“Are you still there, Elias?”, a soft whisper against his ear. He barely recognizes the man who’s been fucking him senseless until now. 

 

“You’ll be devastated to know I’m still alive, professor”, it’s difficult to even speak, yet he still manages to sound sly. 

 

“Pity”, says Peter, and kisses his cheek before pulling out. He falls behind on the chair, taking Elias with him, body heavy and sore in his arms. 

 

“You’ll manage to kill me one of these days”, says Elias, tired, with his eyes closed and his forehead resting against Peter’s chest. 

 

“Would you hate it?” 

 

“Mmh”, Elias mumbles. Peter caresses his faces, and the touch feels almost sweet, except Elias knows it’s not. It will never be. “You are an asshole, Peter.” 

 

“Then don’t come to me next time.” 

 

“You would die of loneliness”, he grumbles. You would die because you love me, he thinks, but doesn’t say.  

 

“You wish.” 

 

“I do.” 

 

The silence stretches for long, with Peter brushing his fingers languidly all over Elias naked skin and the darkness of the evening engulfing the almost empty classroom. Peter lights a cigarette, eventually, and Elias steals it from his lips not but a few drags later. He’s never having sex again in his life, he thinks.  

 

“Was it too much?”, Peter asks. Elias stops and looks up. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Did it hurt?” 

 

“Why are you worrying now, asshole?” 

 

“Elias, did it?”, he insists. The voice almost - almost - sounds like minutes ago, when he was choking him on his desk, and Elias shivers. 

 

“Shut up, I’m fine”, he looks away and takes a drag from the cigarette, leaving the ash to fall on the floor.  

 

“Maybe we won’t do this again”, Peter says, his voice low, as if talking to himself. 

 

“Mh." 

 

Elias doesn’t have the gut to tell him he would die if they ever  stopped this. Instead he gets up, puts his trousers on, picks his shirt up from the floor and gets into it. “You better give me a lift home”, he says, voice dry, looking away. 

 

The pause is long, but eventually Peter stands up, already dressed. He doesn’t even look at him when he walks to the door, buttoning up his shirt. 

 

“Don’t forget the keys”, he says, and Elias could swear he spotted a trace of something off in the man’s voice – it reminds him of... shame? The thought infuriates him. 

 

Everything about Peter Lukas infuriates him, and he felt this anger over and over again, every single time he walks away like a weak, pathetic man who can’t even take responsibilities for something so foolish.  

 

It’s no big deal, asshole, he wants to tell him. 

 

But Elias knows it is, in the end. So he says nothing and follows him in silence, Peter’s cigarette almost consumed between his lips. And they’ll be back here next week, one last time.  

 

One last time, like last time.