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Jon’s fingers rhythmically tapped against the desk as he struggled to keep his attention on the philosophical theory spouted by his professor. A quick glance around proved that he was far from the only student whose attention was lacking. The clock on the wall read 8:38 AM (though that clock was notoriously three minutes early so it was more likely that it was closer to 8:41 AM) and many students were either slumped in their seats, eyes blinking open slowly, or were sipping at coffee like it was the only remaining thread anchoring them to the waking world. Jon had always been a bit of an early riser, so his distracted state had more to do with the fact that the professor was simply repeating the text aloud, text that Jon had already read, mind you, and that Kantian ethics were not interesting enough to capture Jon’s attention for a second time.
The slide of silk and lace under his clothes as he shifted might also have something to do with his inattentiveness.
He didn’t quite get the appeal of lingerie, the idea of something visual being sexually stimulating still evaded him, but he did have to admit that the sensory aspect of it was quite intriguing in its own right. The cool fabric clinging to his chest and hips provided a comfortably snug squeeze and he could feel the lace edges tickle his skin when he moved. It was all very nice, but it wasn’t what had Jon twitching every few seconds to furtively check the clock. No, it was picturing the bright flash in Elias’ eye and the slow curve of his smile when he discovered what exactly Jon was hiding under his short skirt and Institute pullover that made Jon feel all weak and fidgety.
Jon allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, idly thinking about how Elias’ hands would feel pushing aside silk straps to stroke at warm skin beneath. Maybe Elias would pull him into his office and lock the door before turning to him and ordering him onto the desk (Jon was really becoming quite fond of that desk), looking for all the world like he was just conducting a typical business meeting. Or maybe Elias would make him wait until the work day was over. Oh, Jon liked the idea of that. He could just perch on the edge of Elias’ desk or flit around the office helping Elias with his paperwork. Maybe lean over a little further than necessary to pick up a fallen pen, or sit with his leg propped up so his skirt was rucked up over his thighs like Elias liked. Then Elias would tsk at him for being a distraction and call him a tease and grab him by the back of his shirt collar and push his fingers into his mouth and make him suck on them to take the edge off his impatience and-
And the people in his lecture hall were moving, packing up laptops and heading out the door, offering probably insincere ‘thank you’s to the professor as they left. Jon quickly looked to the clock and was surprised to find that it read 8:57 AM. Jon had zoned out thinking about Elias and all the dirty things he wanted Elias to do to him for 20 minutes straight and now class was over. Jon flushed in embarrassment and sharply glanced around him, as if someone could somehow be reading his mind and know that he had spent half the class thinking about Elias. If anyone was reading his mind, which Jon belatedly realized was a ridiculous worry, then they weren’t showing it.
Sighing at his own theatrics, Jon hurried to grab his old backpack and head out of the building. A blend of excitement and anticipation quickened his step and he wasn’t quite jogging across campus, but it was a near thing. If he had no concerns such as classes and the Institute’s hours of operation, he would spend every moment he could at Elias’ Institute. He loved Elias, of course, but it wasn’t just Elias himself that Jon was enamored with. It was Elias’ whole world. Elias moved through a higher caliber world than Jon. A world of learning and of knowledge. A world that was meant for people like Jon, who were always meant to discover and see and know. Jon absolutely loved it.
And that scared him. Jon had never had something that was indisposable to him. He had never grown close enough to anyone to truly miss their absence, he was too young to remember loving his parents and love was not really the word he would use to describe his grandmother’s attitude towards him. He had never been the best with people, so no friends that he couldn’t do without (well, really no friends at all anymore since he cut ties with Georgie). No prized possessions. Nothing.
And now he had Elias, who loved him and who paid for Jon’s apartment and clothes. Elias, who opened the doors of his world to him. Elias, who saw him in his entirety and allowed himself to be glimpsed occasionally in return. Elias, who had secrets that Jon couldn’t wait to tear away so that he could behold Elias wholly.
Jon almost missed the hand that reached out in greeting as he passed it. His feet carried him a couple paces past it before his brain caught up, and he swiveled around to see who it was and what they wanted. The moment he saw who it was, his whole body tensed and his hand gripped the strap of his backpack defensively. Georgie.
She offered him a tense smile as he stopped and held up her hands in a friendly gesture that was faintly reminiscent of the motions that one would take to calm a feral cat.
“Hi Jon. Long time no see. Do you have a moment to talk?”
Jon hadn’t seen her for two months, ever since he broke down and had a panic attack at her flat and Elias had told him, under no uncertain terms, that he was not to see her again. Elias couldn’t possibly hold an accidental meeting like this against him, but Jon still felt nervous about disobeying him regardless and vowed to continue on his way as quickly as was socially acceptable. He also just didn’t want to talk to Georgie right now.
Georgie was…pushy. She had a way of making him think about things that he was really better off just shoving deep inside him and pretending didn’t exist. And she, for some reason, thought Elias was abusing him or something which was ridiculous because Elias was the only good thing to ever happen to him.
No, he did not want to talk to her. What he wanted to do was go and curl up in Elias’ arms and listen to the fragments of whispered, undeserved praise that Elias offered him.
“Sorry, I’m on my way to something,” he returned vaguely, surprised at how cold and dismissive his voice came out.
Georgie’s smile broke at that and morphed into a concerned frown. She paused for a moment, looking him up and down, her gaze lingering on his skirt and on the ‘The Magnus Institute’ logo emblazoned in gold on his pullover.
“You look…different. Jon, I’m sorry I know you don’t want to talk to me but are you o-”
“I’m fine, Georgie, now I need to go,” Jon cut her off. He didn’t need her concern or her advice or her good-intentioned ‘interventions’. What he needed was for her to treat him like an adult capable of making decisions and for her to leave him the fuck alone.
Georgie reached out to grab his arm, the way she always used to when she wanted to connect with him, and he pushed her hand away.
The hurt on Georgie’s face sent a rush of vindictive joy, immediately replaced by guilt which was then followed by anger at feeling guilty because anger was easier to deal with than guilt. He was allowed anger. The bitter anger that burned holes in his already pitted stomach changed just as swiftly as the guilt had. It turned to worried fear, as most of Jon’s emotions eventually turned to, and he desperately wished for that old vindictive anger back. He quickened his pace and walked swiftly away from Georgie before fear could weaken his crumbling resolve. He was beyond relieved that she did not try and follow him.
Jon counted his steps, an old anxiety tip he read somewhere years ago, as he hurried to the tube stop.
1, 2, ‘even you must know how predatory this is’, 10, 11, ‘you look...different’, 35, 36, I need to be at The Institute , 49, 50, I need Elias to hold me, 63, 64, Elias, 69, 70.
Jon was at 142 by the time he reached the tube stop and managed to steady his breathing and calm his racing thoughts a little bit. He did everything right. It’s not his fault that Georgie... intruded upon his time and personal space (that’s the phrase he’ll use when he has to explain to Elias why he was talking to Georgie after being explicitly ordered not to). He briefly considered calling Elias and explaining what had happened, but his gut clenched at the thought of bothering Elias at work because he struggles to enforce his own boundaries and then panics about it. No, no, no. He couldn’t just thrust his emotional baggage onto Elias whenever he got upset. That wasn’t fair. Jon did want to talk to someone, though. Someone who would understand.
Once he got on the subway and started fiddling with his phone in order to avoid awkward eye contact with other riders, he sent a quick text message to Mike Crew, another sugar baby (god that was still embarrassing to even think) who Elias had introduced him to. Elias had told him that it would be good to have friends who were like him, and while Mike was a little distant, he had always been polite enough.
Mike hadn’t responded yet when Jon finally arrived at the institute, but he felt better just having sent the text. Jon took the stairs two at a time, hopping up in a rapidfire way that Georgie used to say would get him killed one day. He walked through the door and waved, slightly awkwardly, at the security guard in the lobby who waved him by with a ‘good morning, Jon!’. Jon felt a tad bit bad that the guard clearly recognized him and greeted him by name, while the only thing he knew about her was that her name began with an L (or maybe it was an A?), but he shrugged it off as he waited for the elevator up to the third floor. No one stopped him along his way, even though he’d long forsaken wearing his visitor’s badge. Jon had been coming by Elias’ Institute for over a year now and most of the staff knew him by sight. Jon’s memory was not quite as good, nor his social skills, so he usually hurried past them with a rushed ‘hello’ and a dip of his head. They always let him pass.
The one person he was willing (read: needed) to sit and chat with was Elias’ secretary Rosie. Rosie’s desk sat in a small circular room outside of Elias’ door: one could not see Elias without passing through Rosie first. So Jon had befriended her more out of necessity than out of any initial interest in conversing with her. Nothing happened in the Magnus Institute without her knowing it, and she’d saved him from many social mishaps before.
“Hello Jon!” Rosie chirped in her usual friendly voice as he neared her desk. Jon waved back, a little shy still despite their frequent chats. It was one thing to know that he was going to meet his sugar daddy at his workplace and it was quite another to idly chat with said sugar daddy’s secretary who was old enough to be his mother.
“Hi Rosie. Is Elias busy right now?” he asked, fiddling with the faded cuffs of his (Elias’) pullover in order to have something to do with his nervous hands. God, how he hated small talk. Rosie was fine, nice even, but he still struggled to hold a genuine conversation with anyone other than Elias and Georg- well just Elias. At least he was getting better. The first time he had to speak to Rosie, he’d spent the next half hour afterwards calming down from a panic attack in Elias’ office.
“Sorry, sweetheart, he’s in a meeting right now. But I can let him know that you’re in if you want to hang out here or somewhere around the Institute until he’s ready for you.” She tapped out a message on her computer, most likely a reminder to talk to Elias, and then looked up at him expectantly. Oh shit, she was waiting for a response. Given his awkwardness with this entire encounter so far, he could just imagine how awful it would be for him to continue to shuffle from foot to foot and stiltedly answer whatever conversational questions Rosie would ask him, so he quickly shook his head.
“I’ve got to do some research, so I’m going to go to the library. Will you let Elias know I’m down there?” Jon asked. This was not a lie, he really did have some research to do and the Magnus Institute had one of the best collections of books on the supernatural this side of the Atlantic, but also he could use a few moments to get his thoughts together before seeing Elias. God, even thinking about Elias caused Jon to shiver and he hastily waved goodbye to Rosie before booking it down to the library.
Jon lost all sense of time wandering through the seemingly unending rows of books; though he could map out the entirety of the Magnus Institute library with 95% accuracy were he asked to. Given his highly focused state of productivity, Jon hardly thought he could be blamed for letting out a high pitched squeak when warm hands suddenly grasped his waist from behind. Jon slowly forced his muscles to relax; those hands and the low chuckle that followed could only belong to one person, and he had the right to put his hands on Jon whenever he wanted.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in my Institute?”
Elias whispered the words against his ear, voice soft with a mocking edge. Jon turned around in his arms so he could look up at Elias, leaning into his chest slightly as he did.
“Elias! You startled me,” Jon told him, fake pouting and looking up at Elias in a manner that he hoped was attractive. Evidently his seduction succeeded since Elias’ hands strengthened around him and pushed his back against a nearby bookshelf with enough force to make Jon gasp out weakly. God, he really was a little masochist like Elias always claimed him to be. Elias’ hands continued to move, yanking up his sweater and sliding his hands under it so his fingers brushed against Jon’s bare skin and his silk underthings. Jon felt a huff of breath against his neck before jolting at the sudden sharp pain of Elias sinking his teeth in. He rather hoped that the embarrassingly high-pitched squeak could pass as some ventilation or something equally benign g, though it wasn’t as if there was anyone in this part of the library to overhear them. Or so Jon hoped anyways.
“Is this mine?” Elias murmured against the bruise forming on his neck. In Jon’s lust-addled state, it took him a moment to realize that Elias was referring to the pullover and not, in fact, to Jon himself. Jon opened his mouth to respond, but it was at that moment that Elias chose to creep a hand higher and flick one of Jon’s lace-covered nippples, and another squeak came out. Jon flushed something horrible and tried again.
“I was- well you see I was cold and it was on the chair and I-”
“I like seeing you in my clothes. It’s what you belong in.”
And oh god Elias was basically growling at him in a way that Jon had always found overdone and cliche in movies, but that he now found very, very attractive and it was wickedly unfair. He found himself smiling and squirming a bit against Elias’ hands despite himself, warmth forming and curling up and blooming in his chest at the praise. Elias’ approval always made him want to squirm and hide and run away but also move closer and never leave. It was a...confusing mix of emotions.
Elias gave him no time to deal with the sudden influx of emotions, nipping his way up Jon’s neck in a way that caused every single conflicting thought firing through his brain to shut down and fade to white noise all at once.
“Now, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what reading you were getting up to back here while you were being a good little boy and waiting for me?” Elias punctuated the words with another nip to Jon’s neck, licking slowly over the bite afterwards. Before he could even fathom a response, Elias’ fingers were pulling up the edge of his skirt and holding it against Jon’s chest. Elias pushed the edge of Jon’s panties to the side and ran his fingers slowly through the lips of Jon’s already wet cunt.
“Hmm? Go on, baby boy. You know how fascinating I find your research.” Elias’ fingers slowed their movement until they were just sitting there, pressed against Jon’s hole but not nearly enough. Jon had been on-edge all day, the preparations and forethought to sex being just as exciting as the actual event sometimes, and now Elias was here in front of him just like he’d been picturing, and he wasn’t doing anything except holding his fingers there.
Jon knew how this game worked. Elias wouldn’t move those damned fingers of his unless Jon could get his shit together and read off the research he’d been doing for his dissertation. Which was on- god what was it on again? This dissertation was the most important thing in his life (next to Elias, of course) but for the life of him, Jon could not even begin to recall the topic of it right now.
“Uh oh yeah ok so you know how Jonah Magnus- ooh!” Jon had barely gotten the words ‘Jonah Magnus’ out of his mouth before Elias was pushing two fingers in with no hesitation or resistance at all. Jon would remember to be embarrassed about that later, but in this moment it took every brain cell in him that still cared about things like public decency and reputation and common respect (Elias was slowly killing those particular braincells) to not moan loudly into the mostly quiet library. God they were in the library. Jon wasn’t new to being fucked all over the Institute, it was Elias’ Institute after all and Jon was Elias’, but the library was a new low even for him.
“Yes, what about Jonah Magnus?” Elias prompted, voice edged with amusement but also warning. He was serious about this, it seemed, and if Jon hadn’t already completed the entire array of physical symptoms of embarrassment, he’d be flushing even more right now.
“While h-his work was mostly focused on the esot- ooh!- the esoteric, as you, well as you k-know, he also wrote some-,” Jon broke off once again after barely half a sentence as Elias’ thumb rolled over his clit. Jon spent a few minutes panting for breath and attempting to roll his hips against Elias’ fingers, an attempt that was in vain as Elias’ body weight had him pinned in place.
Elias laughed at him, full out laughed at him, and Jon forgot about being horny for a moment in order to glare at him in annoyance.
“Excuse me, I’m here all looking very cute and moaning your name and you’re laughing at me. Please at least try and, ah um, keep it together,” Jon tsked at him, proud of himself for only being interrupted by whimpering once in that sentence.
Elias’ eyes narrowed at him and the hand that was rubbing very nicely over Jon’s clit slid up to Jon’s head in order to tangle itself in Jon’s hair and yank his head back by force.
Jon gasped and blinked rapidly at the sudden pain of his head being slammed into the hard wood behind him. It took a few seconds for him to refocus on Elias’ face, which had gotten closer.
“Behave.”
All he had to do was whisper the word against Jon’s ear. The indignant energy that had Jon lipping off immediately vanished. Jon stiffened up, posture attempting to go as straight as it could while being spread open on Elias’ fingers, and dipped his head slightly. He knew what he was supposed to do now. He knew better than to make Elias ask him twice.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” he murmured, leaning forward hesitantly to press an apologetic series of kisses to Elias’ neck, the only place he could reach, pinned as he was. He made sure to look Elias directly in his eyes and to keep his gaze level and submissive. Elias liked it when he looked at him.
Elias made an approving sound in the back of his throat, and he accepted the offered kisses and apology with a considered hmmm. The hand in Jon’s hair dropped to his chin and Elias stroked the side of his face with still slick-wet fingers as he leaned in to press a slow kiss to Jon’s lips. Jon gasped against his mouth and opened his lips willingly, but Elias pulled back after a few seconds.
A spark of anxiety shot through Jon’s system at the perceived rejection and he blinked up at Elias in alarm, thoughts racings as he tried to figure out how to fix this. Should he try and kiss Elias again? Or would that be presumptuous? Maybe he should get on his knees? But Elias was holding him against the wall so he’d have to push against Elias and that was Not Allowed.
Before Jon could fully panic about this situation that he’d gotten himself into, Elias leaned forwards fully into his space once again. Jon’s thoughts immediately halted and all he could do was watch Elias closely as his breath brushed against Jon’s ear.
“There we go, that’s my good boy. Now, are you going to continue to be lovely for me and cum when I say so?” he asked, and Jon practically melted in relief. His body would have collapsed if not for Elias’ arms holding him up. Elias wasn’t angry with him, and that one piece of information was all Jon needed to dispel the anxiety that had been curling inside him. With his worry dispeled, the arousal that had flagged came back in full force and Jon whimpered against Elias.
“Yes, sir. I want to be good for you,” Jon said, and the murmur of approval Elias made in response had Jon squirming again.
Elias rewarded him by curling the fingers that he had knuckle deep in Jon’s cunt, punching a gasp out of him, and using his other hand to stroke over Jon’s thighs and clit.
“There you go, my pretty boy. Just needed to be reminded of his place, hmm? Well don’t worry. I’m always happy to show you where you belong,” Elias told him. His voice was so unbearably fond and soft, and the possessive edge to his words pulled a whimper out of Jon.
“‘M sorry, sir. I just need-,” Jon spoke shakily. His thoughts were muddled and he was starting to have a hard time verbalizing his thoughts. Subspace had a tendency to do that to him.
Elias shushed him with kisses. “Don’t worry, kitten, I know what you need.”
With that, Elias hauled him up against the bookshelves so that Jon was lifted up off his feet, held in position by the unyielding force of Elias’ body. Jon locked his legs around Elias’ torso, he’d been in this position enough times to know what to do, and Elias lifted him up and down on his fingers, jabbing into that perfect spot on each bounce. Jon cried out and grinded down on Elias’ fingers. The constant friction combined with the manhandling and Elias’ words had him nearing the edge. He gasped at Elias, wordlessly pleading for what he needed.
“Go on, cum for me my darling boy,” Elias purred at him at the same moment that he pressed his thumb onto Jon’s clit, hard, and twisted his fingers inside him.
Jon followed his orders beautifully and came with a sob, leaning heavily onto Elias as pleasure racked his body and he went limp in the aftershocks. Jon’s mind was hazy, he always went a little foggy in the aftermath of sex, but Elias took care of him, like always. He pulled Jon into his arms, holding him close to him and rubbing smooth circles into Jon’s back.
“There you go, love, very good. I’m so pleased with you,” Elias kept up a steady flow of praise as he put Jon’s underthings back into place. Jon would probably resent the slightly damp panties later on, but right now he couldn’t care less. He was in Elias’ arms, Elias was caring for him, and he was safe and loved and cared for.
And that was all that mattered.