NOT SHOTA

Because I ship Luke/Layton (in that order).
I apologize beforehand for my fail!Britspeak.

Coitus

It was considered, in terms of science and nature, healthy for young teenage boys to feel certain desires towards the fairer sex; it is the cycle of life, of course.

I saw this coming for Luke long before the dear child realized it himself. Naturally, I was worried if this growth would make his relationship with Flora awkward; they are quite close, so I assumed Luke would take a fancy to her (for I hardly know of any other girl his age that he's quite that friendly with).

Imagine my surprise when Flora came to me, linking arms with a handsome, young chap whom she introduced to me as her lover. I expected Luke to be distraught over this news, but was further shocked when the boy – young man – looked at me with a befuddled frown and said, "I already knew about him. The two of them have been going steady since August." (It is October now.)

I apologized for pressing him on the subject. Luke brushed it off with a wave of his hand – which has grown quite tremendously from the small, soft digits they once were – and returned to his school assignments.

Honestly, his callousness towards females concerned me. Although his physical growth was alarming (the lad nigh towers over myself now by a few significant inches, top hat and all), the time he spends in my offices have been growing longer and longer with each year of his maturing. It is difficult for me, not because I'm displeased by Luke's constant presence, but because I fear I am becoming too dependent on that static company.

As I aged, I realized my own marital situation; this awareness was as natural as Luke's own growth... however, it left me with a deeper sort of feeling: one of regret.

My occupation leaves me little time to myself, much less time for a spouse. I've considered an early retirement, but I was only so many years old (not quite timeworn but no fresh sprig either, believe me). London women, nowadays, preferred a stay-at-home man who worked close to where they lived, and while I would not mind such a relationship, my job and research came before anything else.

And I appreciated Luke and his company much more than anyone might believe, but we were two men – one of us going through the process, anyhow – and as adults, we required our own privacy and space...

And if forcefully putting that necessary distance between us was the key to avoiding an awkward confrontation – such as, the one I was in currently – I would have gladly done it sooner.

"P-Professor..."

However, it was much too late.

I further realized that Luke was no longer a boy, and could not be treated as such. But how do I approach him in a situation such as this?

At this present time, I had just returned from the city library, a light bagful of books resting upon my shoulder. It was raining outside, a spring-time drizzle of water from dark skies. An hour before my arrival, I left Luke to stay watch over my offices – alone. I gave him a quick wave and a hasty, "I'll be back before you know it," before I closed the door behind me...

... and never, not even in my most wildest dreams, have I thought to stumble upon this... sight.

"Professor..." Luke repeated, voice gasping and rough – changed by puberty and fitting his body size well – as his eyes pleaded with me for something. I hadn't the slightest idea what.

The younger man shifted, one hand still fisting a pillow to his chest while the other was fisting his boy – ah... manhood.

I found myself in the most embarrassing and awkward of situations, and I was sure Luke was faring no better. I looked at my self-proclaimed apprentice and attempted to pull apart each emotion that he showed on his face, trying to distinguish them: shame, discomfort, distress, and... lust?

Lust. Of course, that was something to be expected. Why else would Luke find the need to relieve himself in such a manner?

But in my office?

"I... apologize, Luke," I started slowly, backing away step-by-step so as to not disturb the boy further. "That was quite rude of me to enter without even announcing my return," I said smoothly, completely ignoring the niggling voice at the back of my mind that was complaining that 'there was no reason for me to announce anything within my own quarters!'

I made for the door, grasping the handle and trying to think of where I could seek a few quiet moments to myself to rid the jitters that were now shaking my very insides, but I did not expect Luke to lunge forward, pressing a strong hand to the door and closing it with an audible slam. "Professor, please... stay?"

"Pardon?" Stay? Whilst he pleasured himself? He wanted me in the same room? "Luke, I would feel infinitely more at peace were I to leave and give you a few more moments of your own privacy—"

"I want you to stay, Professor." The last word rumbled out from Luke like a lion's purr; it was enough for me the realize the position I found myself in – trapped between the door and the naked body of Luke with his arm, lean and limber, pressing close against my shoulder as a searing reminder of just how close we were.

It did not help the situation any that a jolt of overwhelming energy ran down my entire body and my heartbeat began to hurt. "Luke," I said calmly, hoping to infect the boy with my mild tone, "you are drunk off your lust. Dunk your head in cold water to cool off if you must but understand what you are asking of me here."

Luke chuckled lightly, a sound that would have sounded like twinkling silver bells ten years ago, but now it was low and it resonated deeply like the thickest string on a cello. "I'm not drunk off anything, Professor. I want you to stay. Please."

Blast it, Luke... "Why?"

His cheeks flushed a light pink at the question but he smiled coyly as well. "I want to watch you."

It clicked. All the pieces slowly slid into their respective places and I saw the entire picture. "Luke. Please, Luke... this is..."

Luke grabbed my wrist and I nearly jerked back. Why was his grip so hot? The younger man pressed closer to me and I could plainly feel the heat from his naked body—

… and something—a long forgotten need—stirred.

"Don't say it's wrong, Professor. Please don't say that this is sinful," Luke pleaded with me. His bright eyes dug through my very soul, and I could feel my resolve begin to crumble. I need to leave. I can't... not to Luke...

"I love you so, Professor."

My body, my insides, my spirit trembled.

Love confessions. From a teen at Luke's age it was nothing to be taken seriously, I knew this well.

So why? Why did Luke's sweet lie affect me so greatly?

And I couldn't stop his hand from slipping into the opening of my jacket, gently running his large hand down my body. The stroke was gentle and my eyelids grew heavy. How shameful.

Whilst this hand grabbed me around my waist, Luke removed my hat with the other and drew myself closer to his younger body. From this close, I could see that his shoulders were distinctly broader and higher up than my own. I was proud that he grew up so finely...

"Ah..."

It is to be said that Luke was a boy of books, but, as most boys his age, he had his own job to support his living expenses (although it did not fully cover everything, and I was more than willing to throw in a few pounds of my own). Luke worked at a factory, and with this, his muscles firmed and his hands roughened. His broken skin would, at times, touch my unworked hand. This contact would scratch my skin and leave a visible line. Although Luke apologized, neither of us were all too worried. It was an accident and could not be helped; I did not condemn Luke for things he could not avoid.

But as those same calloused hands scraped against my bare sides, leaving a faint trace of their touch even after they left, I wondered idly if he should stop the factory work and just stay at my offices as a paid assistant.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Luke whispered, seeming to realize the condition of his hands and their effects against my own skin. He pulled back and gently held my face with those same hands, but his grasp was feather light and I looked up to meet his eyes.

He had a light of a smile in those deep blues, and I could not stifle my own. This was my lovable apprentice Luke. Mine.

I met his lips. If this is what Luke wants, whether it be once or twice, I was ready to willingly give myself. He was so much more precious than any moral codes or expectations of society.

"Professor..." Luke mumbled against my lips; his voice was thick with glee, "I love you."

His weight pushed me down to the ground, and Luke pressed me against the floor, climbing up on top of me with his legs on either side of my waist. His face was drawn into a tight line. "I'm being serious, Professor. If you don't say anything now, I'm not going to stop."

I thought about it for a minute. I did have half the mind to stop him now, just for the sake of my own adult pride... "If I stop you now, won't I be creating more problems for myself?"

"That's right!" Luke grinned toothily, looking like his old, boyish self again. "I'll groan and whine about it while following you all around the office! You would be able to get a proper second of rest if I can help it."

I chuckled. Dear Luke...

But my laughter soon morphed into a breathless gasp of surprise. Luke's worn hands pushed at the dark peaks on my chest, rolling them under the pad of his thumbs. The younger man was starting to slowly rock his hips back and forth, his still stiff member rubbing itself against the soft cotton of my trousers. Luke's face was pink with a blush and he let out warm puffs of breaths, obviously aroused to the point of a drowsy haze.

And that fact was affecting me in turn.

I grasped at Luke's arms, needing something to hold onto as my body, worn from age and out of practice with anything intimate, began to wake and an uncomfortable heat coiled around at the bottom of my stomach. I was burning from Luke's gentle touches.

After caressing and exploring the expanse of my chest, Luke moved his hands up to my neck then rested them lightly on my jawline, lifting my face up towards his. Luke's blue eyes were heady and dark with lust and his lips, shiny with spit, were trembling with need. "Professor... may I?"

After staring at him for a moment, I lifted myself up by my elbows and met him halfway, meshing our lips together in an desperate liplock. Luke made low noises of pleasure and joy in the back of his throats, holding the back of my neck and roughly thrusting his pelvis against mine.

He parted his lips first and I followed his lead, letting the boy get used to kissing and giving him a chance to know what felt good for him and what felt good for me.

And Luke was a swift learner.

His hands were everywhere before I realized it and even his mouth and tongue gained confidence as they reduced me into a panting and moaning mass. I tried to keep up, but I suppose the difference in age between us was a largely involved factor because I was already trembling from the sensory overload. Luke had been masturbating for God-knows-how-long by himself, and even now as he rubbed himself against my own erection, I realized I would be the first to come.

"Luke!" I gasped, pulling away from his hungry mouth, but his lips followed, kissing me on my neck and scraping his teeth along the line of my pulse. I bucked my hips in surprise and the other above myself gave a pleased groan. "Oh God...! Lu—"

The pace sped up as Luke was no longer occupied with kissing. His hands which were fisted near my stomach ran down my side to grip my hips with strong, workman fingers.

Even as we rutted, Luke's bare skin against the obvious rise in my trousers, Luke's eyes never left mine. "Professor..." he said in a low and husky breath. "Mmm... love you... so much..."

I dimly realized I couldn't breath anymore. The pace Luke went at made my head blank and the only words the flitted through were pleasure-induced nonsense. And whatever came into mind, fell out my own mouth in a breathless babble. "Heavens, Luke...! – Aahn—hah... – so strong... – Harder, please! I need to—!"

As I came, Luke's name was ripped from my lips in the form of a resounding and strangled gasp. My eyes were open, but I could see nothing but a bright white and my senses were flooded with warmth, pleasure and Luke.

The young man stopped rocking against me, and he pulled back, sitting up slightly as he grabbed himself again and began to rub at his hard arousal. He was breathing hard and staring at my face with a giddy smile on his face; he looked awfully proud.

As my vision began to return, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight Luke made. He had a man's build with broad shoulders and wide chests, but his neck was still slender and his spine curved in delicately. Luke was beautiful—especially with his red lips and lustful eyes as he pumped himself in a nice even pace, never looking away from my face.

"Watch me, Professor..." Luke said lowly and I did. My eyes traveled away from his handsome face down his entire body.

'Why is it that such a man would find himself attracted to someone like myself...?'

"Aah! Professor!" The tone of Luke's voice grew frantic and I knew he was close. He was no longer moving his hand and instead was thrusting into the tight tunnel his fingers made. I licked my lips slowly, wondering to myself...

Luke jolted out of his daze from shock as something warm and wet touched the tip of his arousal. "P-Professor?!"

I wrapped my mouth around Luke, pushing his hand away and resting my palms on his strong thighs. I had never done something like this before, and I honestly had no idea what I was doing. But Luke's vocal cries of appreciation were well received as I moved my head up and down hastily, sucking and licking and tasting.

"Professor! Aah! Hnn... I can't... I'm going to—"

'Go ahead. Whatever you want.'

And Luke shuddered. The grip he had on my shoulder tightened as he released himself, spilling his seed in my mouth.

I pulled away, and delicately milked the last bits of essence from Luke with my hand.

Luke weakly fell back onto his legs, gasping for breath as I reached for the waste bin to spit in. He watched curiously as I removed the semen from my mouth, wiping my lips off with the back of my hand afterwards. "I apologize Luke, I'm afraid I can't quite get used to the taste yet..."

The other man smiled at my 'yet'. "It's alright," he said, lazily tucking himself back into his pants. "Maybe someday."

I smiled back and leaned against the wall, exhausted and feeling rather embarrassed once everything that happened caught up with me.

"But..." Luke eyed my pants, particularly my crotch area where I realized had a rather large, wet spot, "I sort of want to do it to you too..."

Frowning, I was about to question him about his comment, but jerked back in surprise when Luke grabbed my belt and was beginning to unbuckle it with dexterous hands. "Luke!" I choked, swatting his hands away. "Even if you try I can't!"

"Why not?"

"It's something called a refractory period!" I yelled, kicking back and sliding towards the bookshelf. I quickly located my text on the male body and tossed it at my self-appointed apprentice who deftly caught it. "Study it!"

Luke looked contemplatively at the heavy book, reading the title in his head and he flipped through a few pages, eyebrows lifting at a rather interesting drawing on page 66.

"So..." the brunet started slowly, closing the book and looking back at me with an predatory gaze, "If I'm able to finish this book, you'll let me?"

"What—?"

"Okay!" Luke jumped up to his feet, fixing his hair and grabbing his hat. "Don't forget your promise, Professor!"

I tried to push myself up to my feet, but failed as my legs seemed to have turned into jelly. "No, wait Luke—"

But the other was already turned to leave. He gathered all his belongings, hoisting his bookbag onto his shoulder and neatly folding his jacket across his arms. Luke opened the door and was about to step out through the threshold before he paused for a second and whipped back around. I looked up from my place on the floor as he approached me again and bent forward—

"Bye Professor," he whispered softly, warm breath ghosting across my lips and he pressed a kiss upon my still mouth. Luke pulled back after the peck, fixing his hat with a overjoyed expression on his young face and dashed out the door with a dance in his step.

I was left to stare at Luke's broad back as he skipped out into the streets, humming cheerfully. I touched my lips in wonder, allowing a light chuckle to escape me.

Strange.

I thought I knew about Luke's future—finding a nice girl in London, getting married, having kids—but now, I'm not so sure myself.

"Haha," I chuckled lowly, picking myself up from the ground and retreating to my bedroom to change clothes. "You have time, Hershel."

And even as I face this unknown future, I couldn't help but wonder what it had in store for me, for Luke, and for us.

"Perhaps it's time for a post-coital snooze."

-end-

Yeah. I wasn't up for shota.
Sorry for the crappy end btw.