It is not sex that gives the pleasure but the lover. ~ Marge Piercy

English class at eight o'clock in the morning was a punishment delegated specifically to those who worked until late hours of the night and already had no time to complete assignments. Of course, Danny fell into this unfortunate majority. He tended to use Dr. Vlad Masters' English class to take his daily hour-and-a-half long morning nap, a fact that didn't escape his professor's attention.

Somewhere in world beyond Danny's dreamland, Dr. Masters was yelling. "Would someone please wake Mr. Fenton? He's drooling on my desk."

A hand on Danny's shoulder shook him gently, causing him to snort violently as he jerked into consciousness. The class gave a collective giggle, and Dr. Masters rolled his eyes before returning to the lecture.

When at last Dr. Masters dismissed the class, Danny was the first one to jump out of his seat. He was halfway out the door, bright red backpack hoisted high on his shoulders, when Dr. Masters called his name. The teacher reclined at his desk, observing his student coolly. His hair, a pure dusty gray, glinted in the harsh florescent light of the classroom. The tips of his ponytail fell barely to his shoulder blades. If Danny hadn't been used to the ponytail, he would have judged it as supremely out of character in comparison to Dr. Masters' demure disposition.

Danny approached Masters' desk. He rolled his shoulders to adjust his backpack straps and eyed the large stack of papers on the edge of the desk. "Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Fenton, I need to talk to you about your research paper," Masters said, adjusting the stack in front of him. In the top, right-hand corner was Danny's name, followed by his subheadings. The stack was awfully large; Danny had no idea that his paper had turned out to be so long. Of course, he hadn't been paying attention to the length; he'd turned his paper in late the night before.

Danny's heart slammed against his ribs. The time tag on the email would have read two hours after midnight, but surely Masters wouldn't be so strict that he wouldn't grade the paper. And Danny really hadn't been able to circumvent his predicament the night before; he'd been held up at work, quite literally. The overnight drugstore where he worked part time had been robbed and he hadn't been able to leave until the police finished questioning. He could have sworn he included his anecdote in the email he sent Masters; the paper had been emailed in haste, but he definitely remembered to give the professor the reason why his paper was late.

"Look, Dr. Masters, I'm really sorry that the paper was late-," Danny began, but he was cut off by Masters' raised hand.

"Yes, I read your excuse, but we'll discuss that in just a moment." Masters held up the stack of stapled papers and waved it back and forth, an eyebrow raised in question. "Did you check your file before you sent the email?"

"Uh... well," Danny grumbled, scratching the back of his head. He'd been in such a rush to get the paper sent in that he hadn't exactly checked which file he was sending. He just assumed that he sent the right one. It had been in the right folder and everything; he was sure of it.

Masters extended the stack of papers to his student. "I'll take the lack of a straight answer as a no. Here is what you sent me. I hope you enjoy reading it."

Danny tentatively took the stack of papers from Dr. Masters and upon reading the heading on the first page, turned a particularly perfect shade of flaming crimson. The title sprawled across the top of the page was Reckless. He paled miserably. Fucking fuck, he'd sent Dr. Masters the story he wrote! If he'd sent it to any other teacher, he probably could have passed the story off as something he'd found online - something weird like a name fill-in-the-blank porno or some equally ridiculous excuse. But this was Dr. Masters and his name was inclusively scrawled out in at least half the sentences on the page. He was the second character in the story, the first being Danny himself. He was also coincidentally the character situationally on top.

The urge to slap himself in the face was extreme. "I, uh... I found this generator online and, uh, thought it would be a laugh to fill our names in?" Danny stuttered, sweating profusely. This was just fan-fucking-tastic. Now he'd get reported for something like sexual harassment or maybe even plagiarism, he'd get kicked out of school, and his parents were already disappointed that he was an English major. What would he do then? He didn't want to work at that drugstore for the rest of his life!

Dr. Masters' disbelief was visible to the point where eyebrows were dangerously close to stretching into his hairline. "Really? Because I believe I can safely assume that's your writing style, Daniel."

Danny clutched the papers hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "I- I really don't know how to explain this, Dr. Masters."

"Is this really what you think about during class, Daniel?" Masters asked. He laced his fingers together, forming a steeple with his hands. "My -how did you put it?- 'tantalizing collarbones and knowledgeable fingers?' I wasn't aware you were so observant. I must admit, you would be doing very well in this class if you put half the talent you exhibit in your story into my assignments."

"I swear it won't happen-

Danny paused, soaking up Dr. Masters' words. He wasn't offended? The professor didn't seem even mildly disgusted or annoyed. In fact, Masters seemed intrigued. Or perhaps Danny was just hoping that the professor wasn't offended. The story wasn't exactly flattering; even as the writer, Danny knew it was kind of creepy to write an entire fantasy about his teacher.

"Wait, you're not mad? You're not gonna report me?"

Masters smirked. "Now why would I report you, dear boy? You've done nothing wrong besides turn in the wrong paper."

"I guess I just thought..."

Masters stood up, removing his suit jacket as he moved. "You were under the impression that I would be offended? On the contrary, I'm actually rather flattered."

Danny slowly unclenched his fists and nervously smoothed the wrinkled papers. "What?"

"I would never condone shirking your academic responsibilities, but you took time out of your day to write an entire novelization of your imagined escapades involving me," Masters replied. He loosened the crimson bow-tie around his neck and unhooked the top button of his starched shirt. "And though I would prefer if you would listen to the lesson I'm teaching, you've clearly spent enough time observing my mannerisms for your little story to execute them skillfully."

Danny could see the tops of his teacher's collarbones peeking past the unbuttoned section of his shirt, and his mouth went dry. "Well, uh, thanks, Dr. Masters."

"Just please try to include more of your talent in my assignments, Daniel," Masters said. He pulled the knot of his bow out and let it hang motionless from his lapels. He never appeared so casual in Danny's class due to the rigor of the course, but Danny had seen him dressed down in some of his freshmen classes. He could now safely conclude what if he dressed down in Danny's class, he'd never be able to concentrate. "And, if you would, please send me the correct file for your research paper as soon as you possibly can. By midnight would be preferable."

"Absolutely, Dr. Masters," Danny said, breathless. He set the hard copy of Reckless down on the desk and offered a sheepish grin. "And thanks for the extension. I'm sorry about the mix-up."

"Small matters, Daniel," he replied with a wave, effectively dismissing his student. "Now hurry along, I have another class coming in shortly."

"Thanks, Dr. Masters!" Danny replied, turning to leave. He'd been expecting some sort of lecture at least, but it didn't seem that he would get one.

"Mr. Fenton?"

Danny stopped at the door and turned to find Masters smirking at him. The change in the professor from the class period before was enormous. His smile was easy and he relaxed against his desk, ass firmly planted on the wooden tabletop. His arms were crossed loosely rather than stiffly, barely animated.

"I enjoyed your work rather enthusiastically. My office hours start at noon."

Danny blushed, but returned the grin. "I'll bring a few more of my pieces."

"See that you do. I'd hate to miss out."

A/N: Part one of two.