"An Academic Dilemma" – Chapter One

by Alix Bekins

Rodrigo bounced up the stairs to the fourth floor, his long legs easily taking them two at a time.  He was in a hurry, not quite late yet, but hadn’t left himself enough time to get the materials he wanted and then rush across campus for his meeting.  The last thing he needed was to make a bad impression; Professor Sullivan was one of the most demanding faculty in the Art History department.

He grumbled to himself.  All of the computer terminals had been commandeered by undergrads researching their first midterm projects.  Shaking his head and feeling even more annoyed with himself for looking up the information at home but failing to write it down, he made for his usual area in the stacks and hoped he could just find the books he needed by sheer luck. 

It was weird that he’d forgotten that it was midterms week, he mused.  He really ought to have known, but this was the first semester that he wasn’t a TA, and that had been a last-minute change.  As usual, the department hadn’t asked him if he wanted to be Professor Sullivan’s research assistant so much as told him that he was going to be.  He wouldn’t have refused.  Like everyone else, he was a bit intimidated by the man but their academic interests were similar enough that he didn’t mind the assignment.

Not to mention the facts that Professor Sullivan was utterly gorgeous and that his slight Irish accent made Rodrigo’s mouth water.

That combination proved nearly disastrous.  At their first meeting, Rodrigo had been so tongue-tied with his attempts to fight off inappropriate arousal that he’d barely said a dozen words and had most likely come across as either terrified or dim-witted. 

And now he was going to be late for their second meeting unless he could quickly find the books he needed, something about tools used in archaic Greek sculpture.  Too bad he couldn’t remember the titles. 

Or authors. 

Or anything other than that it was the one topic Professor Sullivan had specifically requested he bring some materials on.

After five minutes of scanning titles on the shelves, Rodrigo was ready to admit defeat.  If he couldn’t find what he was looking for soon, he’d have to go look it up on the terminals downstairs. 

Rushing through the stacks, he turned a corner and ran into one of the most gorgeous backsides he’d ever seen.  It was round and firm and filled out the jeans encasing it as if it had been poured in and molded by God himself.  Or perhaps Eros.  Rodrigo couldn’t see much else of the man the butt belonged to, but the jeans fit his legs well and were complimented by work boots and a black t-shirt.  He had messy reddish-blond hair and was humming as he pulled books off the bottom shelf.

Unfortunately, Rodrigo literally ran straight into his upturned ass. 

He only had a split second to notice the other physical details before he slammed into the bent-over man and knocked them both off balance.  One of Rodrigo’s hands shot out to grab the shelf.  The other graciously reached out to stabilize his victim, grabbing him by the nearest possible body part.  Which was, of course, his ass. 

It was a nice and firm ass, too.  And its owner didn’t pull away from the touch of his hand the way a straight man would have. 

Once the owner of the luscious ass and Rodrigo were both upright he apologized profusely, both for the collision and the unplanned groping.  He was relieved that the other man kept laughing rather than looking like he wanted to slug him; brawling in the library wasn’t likely to help his academic career.  Furthermore, it had been quite a nice ass to grope, even by accident, and it was attached to a great body as well.  The sense of humor simply topped off the package and sent an enjoyable frisson of arousal down into Rodrigo’s groin.

His victim reassured him that he was fine.  His eyes darted to Rodrigo’s backpack, which had had fallen on the floor face up, rainbow triangle patch on display.  “I don’t usually let people get that far without at least buying me a beer first,” he teased.

“Maybe some other time then?” Rodrigo grinned, getting a smile in response. 

They both knelt at the same time to pick up the books that had fallen and laughed again as they almost bumped heads.  Rodrigo backed off, pulling a few towards himself.  Some of them had opened and he glanced at the pictures as he closed and stacked the books neatly.

“Wait!  Is this Greek art?  About armatures and sculpting tools and stuff?”

The man’s eyebrows raised.  “Yeah.  It is, actually.  Do you need that book for something?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the ones I was looking for.  Looks like I ran into the right guy.  Sorry it was so literal.”

“No problem,” the man chuckled.

“So…  Are you using it?” Rodrigo asked, getting to his feet.

“No, I work here.  I was just putting them back.”

“Awesome,” Rodrigo grinned.  “I feel really awful for just running off like this, but I’m horribly late for an appointment with a professor.  Can I just take it?”

“Sure.  I assume you know where the Circulation desk is?”  At his nod, the librarian smiled and got back to re-shelving the books.  “Great.  Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can help with.  I’ll be at Reference if you need me,” he offered with a wide grin and a glint in his eyes.

Rodrigo grinned back.  “Thanks.  And really, I’m sorry to just bail like this; I don’t usually hit and run,” he apologized, grabbing his backpack.

They exchanged rushed goodbyes, and Rodrigo raced down the stairs and through the check-out at the Circulation desk.  In moments he was out the door and jogging down the hill to Professor Sullivan’s office.

*****

That’s one hot librarian, Rodrigo thought, heart pounding as he reached the Arts building.  Nice ass, nice body, cute face, and really easy-going.  Hardly the stereotype of the stern and repressed or quiet and bookish librarian.  Nope, this one was kind of sexy, and if they’d met in a club or a bar, Rodrigo would have definitely been checking him out.  If he’d had enough to drink, maybe even going over and trying to pick him up…

On that note, he realized he was standing in a hallway he believed to be his destination and that he really needed to get his brain out of his pants and try to remember what office number Sullivan was in.  Last time they had met at the Student Union, grabbing a few minutes between their respective classes. 

It wasn’t that difficult to find; not only was the door ajar with Professor Sullivan waiting inside, but it was the only office door framed by a collection of postcards of various Greek sculptures.  All male nudes, part of Rodrigo’s brain noticed.  Interesting.

The decor on the interior of the office was the same – not one female figure in the bunch.  One might almost suspect his professor and he had something in common aside from their academic interests. 

In his own office, Professor Sullivan (“Call me ‘Daniel’”) was much more approachable.  They mapped out the specific topics he wanted Rodrigo to hunt down and gave him a list of resources that might be helpful, as well as a list of the books he already knew were dead ends.  Sullivan made it clear that he’d be relying on Rodrigo’s greater experience with computers, admitting that he was a bit of a Luddite.

All in all, it was a successful meeting.  Until the end, when his professor got up and walked him out of the building, bringing one large hand to rest on Rodrigo’s shoulder.  The heat from his professor’s hand sent an undeniable bolt of arousal down to his crotch.  Something about the older man threatened to turn him on unbearably if Rodrigo let it, and he knew the rest of the semester was going to be torture of the most delicious kind.

Damn, he really needed to get laid, he thought to himself on the bus ride home. 

It had been four months since his boyfriend of almost two years had moved out and he still felt a little bruised, hesitant to go out anywhere where he might run into Todd.  And though he was tired of his own right hand, he wasn’t much interested in picking someone up at a bar just for sex.  That was how he’d hooked up with Todd in the first place.  Once bitten, twice shy and all that. 

Although frankly, if his dick was going to think every man he ran into was worth getting hard over, maybe he’d have to reconsider that option.

Then again, maybe those two particular men were just special…

*****

Two days later, Rodrigo was back at the library, this time with notes on exactly which books he was looking for, with the call numbers and everything.  Once he’d pulled all the books he wanted and checked their bibliographies to see if the library had any of those books as well, he even managed to score a computer terminal.  He found everything he was looking for again, with the exception of one item.

After checking the stacks, the reshelving area, and double-checking the online catalog to confirm that the book’s status was indeed “checked in,” he admitted defeat and headed downstairs to the Reference desk.

“Hey, it’s you again,” the man he’d literally run into two days ago grinned.  “Come here often?” he winked.

Flattered for a moment before he remembered that really, any man was unlikely to have forgotten being almost knocked over and having his ass grabbed in the middle of the library, Rodrigo laughed. 

“Yeah, I practically live here, I think.  Haven’t seen you around, though…?”

The cute librarian shrugged.  “I’m Ian.  No, I took a couple months off of working the desk to help with the digitization project.”

“Ah,” was all Rodrigo could think of to say to that, once he’d offered his own name, knowing absolutely nothing about any such project.  “Uh…”

“So what can I help you with?” Ian asked, saving him from the awkward moment.

He showed Ian what he was looking for, explaining that he’d looked on the shelves, in the sorting area, and even on a few book-carts that he’d walked past.  They checked online again, confirming that yes, the book was indeed supposed to be somewhere in the library.

Ian gave him an odd look when he pulled up the title.  “Is this a pet project of yours?”

“No; I’m Professor Sullivan’s research assistant this semester,” Rodrigo explained.

“Really?  I’ve assisted Daniel with research before.  It’s nice to see that the department has finally decided to give him a slave, er, grad student of his own,” Ian said, eyes sparkling with amusement.

They talked for a while, about art and sculpture in general.  Ian showed him the new resources the digitization project offered, photos and texts from libraries all over the world scanned in for shared use.  Some of the images online were better reproductions than in the books they came from, and could be enlarged and magnified to get details impossible to see on paper.

Rodrigo couldn’t help grinning as an old favorite came up, a sculpture of a man hunting with a javelin, but missing the weapon.

“What?” Ian asked, seeing his reaction.

“Nothing, really.  It just always makes me think he looks like he’s surfing or something.”

“I’m no expert, but I don’t think they had surfing in ancient Greece,” Ian joked.

“No, but look at the way he’s balanced…” Rodrigo explained, pointing at the posture of the arms and legs. 

“Hm.  I don’t know.  I’m just learning to surf, myself,” Ian shrugged.

“Yeah?” 

A hot, queer librarian who surfed?  Could this guy get any better? 

“Ever go to Lighthouse Point?” Rodrigo asked, trying not to think too much about what Ian’s body would look like in a wetsuit.

That started off a long conversation about surfing, the best places to go both for the waves and to get away from the tourists.  Rodrigo left without the book he’d been looking for, but a whole list of things to show Professor Sullivan online, and something more than just a simple lust-fueled crush on Ian.

*****

The next time Rodrigo met up with Ian it wasn’t quite an accident.  He’d been at the library all afternoon, screwing around, checking things that didn’t need checked, before finally admitting to himself that he was waiting to see if Ian was working.

It turned out he was.  Rodrigo knew it would be way too obvious if he went to him with yet another question, so he waited until almost closing time and then strolled leisurely past the desk, hoping to catch Ian’s eye with his bright yellow t-shirt.

It worked.

Ian called him over and they chatted for a few minutes before the five-minutes-until-closing warning bells rang.

“Hey, want to go grab a beer at the Student Union?” Ian suggested.  “I have to stay until closing, but I bet I can skip out right after, if you’re interested.”

Oh yeah.  Rodrigo was interested.

“Sure, why not?” he managed to say.  They agreed he’d grab a table and wait for Ian there. 

Damn, this was going to be dangerous, he thought to himself as he walked up the hill to the Union.  He’d have to be careful not to come across as too desperate.  Maybe Ian was just being friendly.  Even if he was gay, there was no reason to think he was into Rodrigo.  Maybe he was just flirty.

And hot.

Rodrigo groaned to himself, walking over to a table to wait.

Absolutely fucking hot.

Fuck, he needed to get laid.

*****

They’d had a good conversation, talking about everything as they got to know each other.  It sure as hell felt like he was being picked up, Rodrigo thought, but maybe it was all in his head.  Ian flirted but never seemed to be more than just friendly.

They met for drinks a couple more evenings, with Rodrigo timing things so he finished his research for the day just as the library was closing, and it became a semi-regular thing for them over the following weeks.  A thing.  Not a date.

At any rate, making a new friend was great.  Ian was great.  And fucking hell, the flirting was great.  Rodrigo knew he was attractive, but it was nice to have a guy talk to him about real things too, like art and history and travel, instead of just seeing him as a piece of ass.

Finally he worked up the nerve to ask Ian if he wanted to go surfing some time.  They made a date for Sunday morning and Rodrigo tried not to spend the next three days picturing Ian struggling into (and out of) his wetsuit. 

Clinging, black, tight…

And failing most enjoyably.

*****

In addition to the excitement of being around Ian and the usual stress of classes, Rodrigo also found himself struggling to fend off his inappropriate feelings towards Professor Sullivan. 

Daniel. 

No, Professor Sullivan.  There was just something about the older man that resisted informality, no matter that he’d invited Rodrigo to use his given name.  There was just something too commanding and inarguably “in charge” for such casualness.

Sometimes the strangest images would pop into his head, of Professor Sullivan holding a young man (who coincidentally looked an awful lot like Rodrigo) up against a wall and jerking him off, right in the middle of the local gay dance club.  Whispering dirty things in his ear, telling him what a slut he was.  Huge hands on his wrists and cock, making him writhe with embarrassment and excitement mixed together in equal amounts…

After the second time his mind flashed those images while he was jerking off in the shower, Rodrigo found it difficult to meet his professor’s eyes.  He swore he almost blushed once, in the middle of another meeting, as Rodrigo’s gaze lingered on a poster featuring an urn depicting a mature man with a young boy.  The boy looked like he was trying to get away from the man’s rampant cock and Rodrigo couldn’t help but think that the boy was a fool; he’d give anything to have the attention of a guy as well-endowed as that.

He sighed.  Christ, he needed to get laid.

Every meeting with his professor spawned new fantasies, shadowy and dark and resulting in the most intense orgasms from masturbation that Rodrigo could remember having since high school.  Something about Professor Sullivan just set all of Rodrigo’s body shivering; he was clearly gay, unbelievably hot, and that sexy voice…  Liquid and smooth, the lilt of his Irish accent shaping the vowels into something that made Rodrigo ache to hear him whisper orders for Rodrigo to go down on his knees…

It was confusing, though.  Not only was he falling into some really bad thought-habits about his professor - thoughts that were only going to get him in trouble someday even if that trouble was only the disappointment of unrequited lust - but he also genuinely liked the man.  Professor Sullivan was witty and funny.  Under the layer of stern expectation that made Rodrigo feel like shit any time he even slightly disappointed Sullivan by being late or forgetting to bring something to their meetings, he was actually pretty easy-going. 

He learned that Professor Sullivan was a bit older than he looked.  He was in his late forties, but still in really good shape.  He jogged and said that he used to surf and still did sometimes, but these days he mostly just splashed around or lay on the beach watching people while he read.  He’d grown up in Galway and moved to California in his twenties for the university and he swore he’d never move back to the cold winters. 

Although Professor Sullivan never talked about his personal life explicitly, the hints and occasional plurals made Rodrigo think he had a boyfriend.  Lover.  Partner.  Whatever.  Which was too bad, but maybe it would at least help Rodrigo let go of the fantasies about his professor bending him over and fucking him until he screamed…

Maybe.

It was getting a bit too confusing, inside his head.  Intensely lusting after his professor while at the same time doing whatever he was doing with Ian.  Becoming friends.  Falling for him, probably.

Falling for both of them, kind of, he feared.  He tried not to let himself think about it too much.

And as usual, he suspected everything would be much simpler if he just got laid.

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