Work Text:
”Professor Specter, I’m not a first year anymore, you don’t teach anything besides Contracts I. I’m not your student, and I never will be again. There’s no conflict.”
Glumly eyeing the stack of case law that he would need to review before Monday’s lecture, Harvey swirled the amber Scotch in the cut-glass tumbler. The smoky liquid spread warmth through his insides as Harvey downed a healthy swallow. He could really use some time to just blow off his work and relax, but Harvey had always prided himself on his ability to focus and get the tedious tasks out of the way.
An entirely unexpected knock at the door wrenched him out of his contemplation of his weekend. Setting the glass down, Harvey stepped to the entrance and opened the latch, not bothering with the peephole.
In an uncomfortable imitation of the previous weekend, he found Mike Ross in the hallway, looking nervous.
“Mr. Ross. I believe we concluded our business.”
The kid met his stern glare without flinching. “You forgot something.”
Surprised that a mere student had dared to challenge him, Harvey was momentarily at a loss, but then again, Michael Ross hadn’t turned out to be what he expected at all.
“All right. I’ll bite,” he said, stepping back to give the boy room to enter.
Slipping past him, Ross slid his shirt off and then had unbuckled his belt before Harvey could recover.
“What are you doing?”
“You said I had to be naked while I was here,” Ross replied.
Pinching the skin of his forehead in an effort to control his temper, Harvey said, “That applied last weekend. You got what you wanted. We don’t owe each other anything else.”
Instead of addressing Harvey’s entirely legitimate complaint, Ross finished undressing, folding his clothes neatly, and then he slid to his knees, putting his hands behind his back. Resisting the urge to correct the boy’s form, Harvey applied his mind to the issue, finally noticing that Mike’s cock was still restrained by the stainless steel shaft inserted in his urethra that prevented him from getting hard. The shaft attached to the ring around Mike’s balls, displaying them nicely. Harvey admired the view for a moment, and then remembered that Ross shouldn’t be wearing it.
“You were supposed to take that off,” he accused.
Nodding, Ross said, “I gathered that.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It felt wrong.”
Deciding that the conversation go more smoothly if he was relaxing on his couch with his Scotch, Harvey picked up the tumbler and settled amongst his plush cushions.
“Right here,” he said, gesturing to the spot between his spread knees.
Ross looked startled for about half a second, but made an undignified scramble to the indicated spot. Eyeing Mike’s posture sourly, Harvey decided that he couldn’t in good conscience allow that to continue. He’d be doing the boy and any future Dom he acquired a disservice.
Pushing at Mike’s shoulders, Harvey ordered, “Spine straight, shoulder blades back. Spread your thighs until you’re straining. A Dom wants to see his sub put effort into everything he does, even if it’s just kneeling and waiting.”
Ross moved exactly as Harvey instructed, finally demonstrating perfect posture and position. Harvey ignored the surge of arousal brought on by a pretty sub at his knees, by all measures appearing to be doing so for Harvey’s pleasure. The boy’s dick couldn’t swell with the steel shank running over the top of it, but the restrained cock flushed red with blood, indicating that Mike was getting off on it as much as Harvey was.
“All right, boy. Why did it feel wrong?”
“You put it there, sir,” Ross answered. “I thought you should take it off.”
Slightly surprised by that answer instead of the one he’d been expecting – that Ross didn’t have the courage to pull the bit of steel out of his pecker – Harvey contemplated his next move. Part of him admired the boy’s courage and part was annoyed by the inevitable complication that he was sure Mike Ross was about to cause him.
“So you haven’t come since the day you approached me in the office?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you want to come?”
Mike stared at the floor, his Adam’s apple working. “I don’t think that’s the right question, sir.”
“Do tell. What would be the correct question?”
“I’m not sure.”
Contemplating the kneeling man, Harvey considered his next move. Ross had good instincts, although he was horribly sloppy and untrained. The boy seemed to be aware that he was skating the edge of disrespect, but clearly couldn’t pull his thoughts together. He didn’t know what he wanted enough to be bratty about it.
Deciding that he would investigate Ross’s mental state before they went any further, Harvey asked, “How does that cage make you feel?”
“Frustrated,” Ross answered promptly. “Horny. And a bit sore.”
“I see how this is going,” Harvey murmured, still feeling equally divided on his reactions to Mike. On the one hand, the boy had answered his question literally, although he had to know that’s not what Harvey meant, which indicated a bit of unacceptable smart-assery. On the other hand, the kid would definitely be a challenge of the sort that Harvey hadn’t faced from a sub in a very long time.
“Let’s try this . . . what emotions did you have when your cock was locked away in that cage?”
Looking like he would like to flinch away from Harvey’s direct stare, Ross lowered his eyes, staring at a spot on the couch just above Harvey’s ankles.
“Frustrated,” Mike said with a sigh. “I can touch myself even if I can’t get hard, but I felt like I wasn’t allowed. Like . . .”
“What?”
“Like my own dick didn’t belong to me,” Ross said in a rush. “I felt proud that you had claimed it, and proud that I could offer you my celibacy, but humble too, like I had to earn it. To offer you anything. And if I wasn’t good, you’d be displeased. I know it’s all in my head, and a really crazy delusion, and . . .”
“Mike . . . hush.”
The boy stopped babbling, thankfully.
“The word is chastity. Celibacy is something else.”
“Okay.”
Feeling like he still hadn’t explored the depth of Ross’s submissive tendencies, and riding on his own instincts, Harvey pressed. “Anything else you felt?”
“Quiet,” Mike said unexpectedly. “My brain works really fast, but sometimes I’d shift position or something and I’d remember that it was on me and I’d focus on how I felt instead. Things slowed down a little, calmed me.”
Harvey remembered Contracts I the previous year, how he’d attempted to trap the kid in every first year’s worst nightmare – not being prepared for class. Instead, Ross had stood up and proven that he understood not only the assigned case law, but also other cases that were only peripherally associated with the case, jumping from connections to conclusions at lightning speed, nearly too fast for even Harvey to follow. He’d been forced to cut Mike off in mid-flight, not because he was wrong – about any of it – but because the rest of the class didn’t have a prayer of understanding even a fraction of what Ross was saying.
“I see.”
Not only was he naturally submissive, but also Mike clearly needed the quiet and mental rest that subspace would give him. Now that he’d seen the benefits of falling under, the boy was clearly going to find himself a Dom, and if Harvey turned him down, he was certain that Mike would find another one with all due dispatch. Harvey respected the boy’s brains enough to have no doubt that he could find a way to connect with any number of underground BDSM practitioners.
Discovering that he didn’t like the idea of Mike subbing for anyone but him, Harvey made a decision.
“Then I’ll rephrase the previous question . . . do you want me to let you come?”
With his crystal blue eyes luminous with a wild sort of hope, Mike said, “Oh, yes. Please, sir.”
Harvey’s mind raced ahead with logistics – limits and lists and rules and boundaries, but he forced himself to concentrate on the present. His sub needed aftercare and had done for nearly a week, but Harvey refused to feel guilty about it. He hadn’t known then that Mike Ross already belonged to him.
Opening his arms, Harvey said, “Up here, boy.”
Mike scrambled into his lap, and Harvey spent the rest of evening petting and praising his new sub.