His entire identity was wrapped up in his job. Solas had spent years cultivating profession and he was finally in the perfect position. A tenured professor at a world renowned university teaching a course in a subject he was passionate about, folklore.
Solas pinched the bridge of his nose. A migraine was forming at the base of his head, threatening to overtake his whole being. He closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples, willing some of the pressure to be relieved.
The semester had just started and there were new courses, this was a constant with every new semester. Solas did not, however, expect the university to add a course which rivaled his own. He had been teaching his course for what felt like centuries. Obviously it hadn’t actually been centuries but it may as well have been for all of the knowledge he possessed on the subject.
The university had brought in some young professor to teach the new course. Solas bristled at the thought of him. Dorian Pavus. Some attractive, charming, arrogant man from a well to do country far, far away.
At first, Solas was barely bothered by Dorian’s presence. It was a minor annoyance, like a fly buzzing around his face. But eventually students starting dropping his class for Dorian’s. Though his focus was solely on lore and Dorian’s class featured a focus on folk religion, there were many overlapping subjects in the curriculum.
And of course all of the students just loved him. Men and women alike took Professor Pavus’ class just to stare dreamily at the man while he lectured. The way he moved across the hall, weaving stories of ancient magics long forgotten, he exhibited a subtlety and grace that even Solas couldn’t deny. And Pavus just couldn’t get enough of it. As if he needed his oversized ego stroked more. Solas scoffed aloud at the idea.
He exhaled, taking a deep breath. He rolled his shoulders and tried to focus on the papers before him. Getting through them had been particularly difficult this evening. They were currently studying fairy tales and the idea of reading fifteen papers on Little Red Riding Hood was enough to make his head ache even without the migraine. Not to mention that his mind just wouldn’t cease to think about Dorian and his insufferable egotism. Solas had spent minimal time with the man. After all, why would he force himself to interact with a person that couldn’t stand. In the back of his mind he admitted to himself that he didn’t actually know much about the man but all the same he had avoided him.
“Good evening, Professor,” Dorian addressed him as he glided down the steps toward Solas. Most everyone was gone and there was an infinite silence that caused Dorian’s silvery voice to resonate in the empty hall.
Solas took a sip of his tea, frowning at it before setting the cup back down, a little harder than he meant to. It clattered against the saucer. He had always disliked tea. It was odd considering everyone drank tea where he was from. He would still drink it on occasion. In this case, he thought it might help with his terrible migraine.
“Was that look for me or the tea?” Dorian smirked as he approached Solas, his tone dripping with derision.
“Perhaps both,” Solas said evenly, picking up a students paper.
“You don’t seem to care much for me, Professor,” Dorian adjusted his glasses as he spoke, pushing them back of the bridge of his nose. “Might I ask why that is?”
“The list is quite long, are you sure you have the time? It is late after all.” Solas lifted his eyes from the paper in his hand. He looked over Dorian’s face, he really was handsome. Tan olive skin, dark hair, perfectly groomed mustache, grey-blue eyes that stood out even behind his dark rimmed glasses. But Dorian’s expression showed little more than slightly amused indifference and it only served to aggravate Solas more. He couldn’t care less what Solas actually thought of him. It was as if he was being baited.
“As it happens, I’m completely free this evening,” Dorian walked passed Solas to the bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines, as he vaguely read the titles.
“Let us see. Where shall I begin?” Solas put his hand to his chin, his voice oozing mockery.
“The beginning? Let’s try that, yes?” Dorian replied.
“I’ve been teaching folklore for centuries -“ Solas started but was quickly interrupted.
“Centuries? How old are you exactly? Surely not centuries old. I do admit I am thrown off by your lack of hair…and style.” Dorian was still smirking.
“NOT. Actual. Centuries. Let me clarify. What I mean to say is that I…” Solas searched for the words, but instead took the conversation in a different direction. “Your arrogance. Let’s start there.”
“My, my, Professor. Straight to the personal insults? I thought you were above all of that.” Dorian laughed lightly. “Ahh. But, yes, I prefer to call it confidence.”
“Call it whatever you like, Pavus, you are insufferable.” Solas hadn’t noticed Dorian approaching him again until he was at his side.
“All right. I will take your word for it. Anything else?” Dorian replied, a smile still playing at his lips.
“Your 3 o’clock lecture today.” Solas said.
“Yes, yes what about it? What was it about my lecture that makes you hate me so?” Dorian leaned against the desk, shoving Solas’ papers aside.
“Your teachings were incorrect. The rituals to ward off demons. What manner of cheap tome did you get your information from?” Solas stood, feeling the anger rising in him, threatening to boil over.
“I think not. I researched the topic for weeks. Never have I lectured on a subject without heavily researching it first.” Dorian straightened. He was starting to anger as well, his precious pride insulted, red tinging his cheeks.
Solas wanted to punch him. To knock the smirk right off of his pretty face. To take him to the ground and…beat him senseless. He had never felt this way. He had a calm almost stoic demeanor under normal circumstances. This man. Taking his students, teaching them incorrect information, and now he was in his face.
Heat crackled between the two men. They were close enough to touch. And for a moment neither of them said anything, they just stared at each other, stewing in their rage.
Solas opened his mouth to speak, a clever insult on his lips, but instead he felt Dorian’s mouth crash against his. It wasn’t gentle. It was hard, bruising. His anger quickly melted into arousal as they both vied for dominance. Solas would make sure that he won. He would claim Dorian.
Solas pushed Dorian back against the desk, papers littering the floor as they toppled off the edge. He broke the kiss to bite down on his neck, marking him and smiling smugly at the groan it elicited. Solas could feel Dorian’s hardness pressing into his thigh. He adjusted his hips to rock his own against Dorian’s as he moved back to bite at his bottom lip, so hard that he almost drew blood and Dorian moaned as he sucked and licked at the swollen result.
Dorian thrust his hips against Solas, the friction felt way too good even through all of the layers of clothing. Solas worked at Dorian’s belt, undoing it and the fasteners of his trousers in record time. He freed Dorian’s cock, admiring the bead of pre-come at the tip. He wanted this, he wanted Solas. He had to keep himself from laughing smugly. Solas gave him a few quick strokes before instructing him to turn around.
“Yes, Professor,” Dorian replied as he did as he was asked.
Solas stuck his fingers in his mouth, coating them with saliva before pushing Dorian forward onto the desk. He leaned over him, as his trousers fell down to the ground. Solas bit down hard on Dorian’s shoulder, causing him to cry out. Slowly he slid his hand down his back, lower and lower until he came to Dorian’s puckered hole.
Solas teased him, his finger working around the outside in circles before pushing in just a small amount. Dorian groaned, encouraging him to push in further. His fingers slick with saliva, he stretched Dorian, fucking him with his fingers until he was making needy noises and pushing back against Solas’ hand.
“Fuck me already, Solas,” Dorian cried when he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Patience, Mr. Pavus,” Solas replied, his voice calm and even.
Solas slowly removed his fingers from Dorian and spat into his palm, slicking his aching cock. He nudged against Dorian’s entrance.
“Are you ready for your first lesson?” Solas asked smugly.
“Teach me, Professor. I am your willing -” Dorian gasped as Solas pushed into him slowly, almost painfully slow. “- student.”
He was so hard and Dorian was so tight, so good. Solas growled low in the back of his throat as he began thrusting into Dorian’s tightness. Hard, rough, his nails dug into Dorian’s hips as he fucked him into the desk.
“Fuck,” Dorian cried out as Solas hit his spot deep inside. Solas angled up, hitting it again. Over and over until Dorian was a stuttering mess.
“P-please. S-solas.” He moaned. Solas reached under Dorian, palming his aching cock, thick and wet from the pre-come dribbling out. He was close and so was Solas.
Solas was beginning to shake uncontrollably, his thrusts becoming uneven, his breathing ragged. He stroked Dorian quickly, bringing him closer to the edge until he groaned loudly, coming in spurts over Solas’ hand as he rocked into his fist, milking himself dry. Solas couldn’t hold out any longer, feeling Dorian’s body tighten around him with orgasm, he reached his own. Cursing as he spilled himself deep within Dorian. Solas bit down hard on his back, fucking into him through the aftershocks, the warmth of sweet release spreading through his body.
The world slowly came back into view as he removed himself from Dorian, casually adjusting his clothes, wiping his hand on a napkin he pulled out of the desk drawer.
Solas cleared his throat as Dorian got dressed. He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He just wanted to teach him a lesson. Never did he think it would be this sort of lesson.
“Sooo…” Dorian was the first to speak, his was tone vague and indecipherable. Then he smiled, a wicked smile. “Lesson two?”