gay brainrot disguised as character analysis™

„Sir, first I want to apologize, the pic-“

„Shut your mouth.“ At least Bob's firm tone lets him drop this ridiculous act. “I don‘t care for my student's free time, it is simply not of my concern but this? We both know how a phone works. Would it have hurt you to double check before you pressed send?“

“I didn‘t thought that-„

„And that is the point of the misery Mister Walker. You don‘t think! Do you know in how much trouble this could get you, me?!“

„Sir I-“

„No you don‘t get a say in this. You messed up and you will have to live with the consequences. Our private study sessions are over.“

„No please professor I‘m so sorry. I‘ll do anything, you can take my phone and smash it on the concrete or whatever but I need the extra lessons.“

„Actually you don‘t. The progress you have already made is more than enough to pass my finals in two weeks. You don‘t need me anymore.“

„That is not true professor.“ Bob can‘t say if it's the pronunciation or the innocent look John throws at him, whatever it is, it makes his blood boil some more. He could swear in the milliseconds he needs from his desk over to John he sees red pink.

„Listen to me now kid. Whatever you think this is, forget it. The only thing I offered you was my knowledge, nothing more nothing less. This will stop right now. You will only ask me subject related questions, you will not text me, you will not come to my house. You are my student and that's it, understand?“

„Professor please I‘m-„

„Do you understand?“

„Yes Sir I understand I‘m still sorry I didn't want it to turn out this way.“

„Ah yes Johnathan Walker didn‘t get what he wanted, welcome to adulthood.“

„Don’t pretend you know anything about me, this is not fair!“

„Nothing in this world is, get used to it.“

John's mouth opens and closes a couple of times. The following smash of the door is so loud that Bob flinches in his spot. This was the right thing to do. This mantra is the only thing letting Bob survive the next two weeks. He is counting the days until the exam and John will be a student he will randomly pass in the halls and nothing more.

--------------

To not raise any suspicion Bob took the invitation of the head coach to attend the last game before summer break. A friendly play against the partner university from the other side of the state.

He swore to himself he would not look, wouldn‘t observe but that was so much easier said than done. The music starts to play and Bob needs exactly five seconds to spot the blond waves peeking out of the helmet. He doesn't understand a single ounce of football, he is not listening to the other professor trying to bite his ear off. His focus is solely on John's broad shoulders, the pads making him look like a damn wardrobe.

John's team is four points behind when the half time gets announced and the players take a seat on the benches to watch the performance of the cheerleaders. Bob can‘t miss John's look, piercing through him the second he takes his helmet off. Not paying the cheerleaders in their short skirts any mind.

As the game continues John's team is able to score two more points but so does the opposite team. In the end it stands 28 to 31 and Bob leaves as fast as the crowd allows it. He knows himself too well, so retreat is the safest option.

Back inside the walls of his own home he curses under his breath, papers and books land on the floor. He must have forgotten to stack his supplies up. He hates to call Ted so late at night especially on a weekend, he always insisted on smoking one together or taking something else. But you just can‘t say no to your dealer, that's not how it works. But Bob won‘t make it without the weed so he grabs his phone, horrified to find out that he has gotten a text message.

„You‘ve been staring an awful lot for someone who just wanted to help out his student ☺️.“ Bob is ringing with himself, should he text back, if yes what does he have to offer? A ding annouches another text.

„I feel so bad that we lost, maybe you could use those tricks of yours to make me feel better? 😏“ Okay thats it, in the matter of a heartbeat John's number is blocked, for now or forever. It should be forever.

Bob makes the call he intended to and finds himself half a block down the street on Ted's couch.

„Do you still have trouble with sleeping?“

„I have trouble with basically everything.“

„Yeah whatever, my friend got his hands on these new pills, wanna try them?“

Not a question, Ted simply looks for someone to test them on before he sells them to his other customers.

„Give me one now, and enough for the next week, I'll let you know if they work.“

Ted takes a drag from the bong and hands it over to Bob. „Dude I never understood why you don‘t prescribe yourself some meds.“

„If it would be that easy every psychologist would be high basically every day. Also I‘m teaching, not practicing.“ Bob takes his turn and finally feels how the weed kicks in, his muscles and most importantly his brain calming down.

With a cup of water in hand Ted comes back from the kitchen and Bob drowns the pill without asking another question. The ring of the doorbell lets him jolt like a stray cat that's getting honked at. „Chill it's just a guy who needs some.“

„Good to know that your stack lasts, some of you come around every two weeks.”

John hands Ted the money and Bob stands up approaching the door. „Yo no second round tonight?”

„Sorry Ted, next time.”

The sun had already settled, it was still hot and humid, the streets illuminated by the lampposts covering the city in a warm yellow gloom.

“Walker, stop.” The distance between them is small enough that Bob doesn’t have to shout. John could have been gone at this point, he chose that slow pace on purpose. When he is in John's reach he tugs him by the neckline of his muscle shirt. „You and I have a talk, now.“

Bob practically drags John the few remaining steps to his house, the second they are inside and the door secures them from the world, Bob can‘t hold it in any longer, fisting John's shirt as if that might bring him back to his senses. „Are you out of your mind kid? You drink, smoke and then you take pills?!“

John raises his arms in defiance or annoyance; it becomes hard for Bob to tell. „Chill, it's just adderall, and it's not like I‘m taking a lot.“

„That doesn't matter, you are frying your brain, kid.“

„Stop calling me kid, I‘m 26!” The little push he directs at Bob throws him off balance yet he manages to push John right against the wall. „You are still my student and I-“

Bob didn‘t even realize that he fisted John's shirt; he also missed John's cocky grin. He has to take a step back, the room slowly begins to blur and his knees go weak.

„Professor? Are you not feeling well?“ John's voice is filled with genuine concern, already leaping forward to catch Bob before he can fall to the ground, placing him on the couch. John hastily shuffles to the kitchen and offers Bob a glass of water who declines it with a scuff.

„Just leave Walker, we talk about this at-“ The couch gives in to John's weight and Bob's breath gets stuck in the back of his throat. His student was now straddling his lap, his hand wandering to Bob's forehead.

„Well it's not a fever.“ Bob stills completely as John's hand wanders further down, his fingers gently resting under the bags of Bob's eyes and he swears he can feel how John's hips thrust, just slightly but noticeable. „Eyes are fine either, no stroke.”

And now they go down all the way to Bob's chin which gently gets tilted back. „No prominent veins.“ There is no reason for John to bring his face so close to Bob's skin.

For a second John hesitates. His movements stop altogether until there is a small distant whimper and something hard pressing against his thigh. His sign to continue what he is doing.

With his eyes closed Bob searches for something to hold onto and finds the hem of John's shirt as a result. „Walker, shit, stop.“ Bob's mind is empty at this point, no proper vocabulary left. He hears some moans from above, still not able to open his eyes. „John please we can‘t do this.“

The sheer reason why John is doing everything but stopping? None of those words leave Bob's mouth, they stay in the far back of his head. What John hears instead are more groans and sweet sweet whimpers that give him the feeling that he is doing everything right.

What spurs him on even more is the fact that his professor's hands unintentionally grab into the side of his tummy feeling up his abs. John was in heaven and so was Bob for now.

Bob's body and mind caved in, let go. He is not grinding back but he wishes he could. Everything Bob can do now is take it, and hope that he forgets about it tomorrow. But how? How is he supposed to forget how deep John's moans sound, how muscular and at the same time soft he feels? How is he supposed to forget the feeling of John's skin on his own?

The grief turns Bob's grunts into small cries and John? He is picking up even more speed and most importantly more pressure. One of his hands grips Bob's hips like a vice and with a sharp cry Bob simply blacks out.

It is still dark outside when he shoots up. Unfortunately the effect of the pills wasn‘t as long lasting as Bob secretly hoped. Once the fog in his brain has lifted his eyes widened falling first onto the glass of water still sitting on the coffee table. He moved his leg just slightly and that was enough for him to bring him back into the brutal, present reality.

Tears rolled down his face in heavy streams because again he sat in the hell of his own making. Again he made inexcusable mistakes but this time it is worse. For the first time he is dragging someone along with him.

"Thats not what I meant. You are not getting sick are you?" Gods, why does he have to sound so concerned?

"No, I guess it's just the finals." John shrugs and Professor Reynolds invites him in. Not once taking his eyes away from John. His posture is slouched and his hair disheveled.

As they sit down in their usual spots Bob still can't look away from John's face. He clearly hasn’t shaved in days, his jaw clenching every time he finishes a sentence. "You should have called, really you are making so much progress you deserve some rest." Bob's words are sincere and so is the gesture coming with it. He cups John's hand with his in an attempt to reassure him, to sooth him.

As if John has been struck by lightning a faint smile appears on his lips. "I tried Professor but I couldn’t." Becoming painfully aware of what Bob just did he pulls his hand away and with it the smile disappears as well.

"Well then… Did you work on the extra assignment I gave you?" John neatly spreads his notes on the table and forces his eyes to stay open while Professor Reynolds reads through them. "They are good. Really good Walker. Just a small note. You have to understand that whenever we talk about needs and desires they don’t have to revolve around anything sexual."

"Can you uhm explain that to me again Professor?"

"Let's take a newborn for example. A baby does not feel the need to be sexually involved in anything of course. They only feel the need for physical connection such as cuddling and the need to survive which is provided by their mother or rather the parents."

This is exactly what John was amining for. Professor Reynolds showers him in one example after another and John can take his sweet time browsing over his face, counting the grey stubbles, the wrinkles at the side of his eyes and…

"Mister Walker, are you even listening?" John straightens his back immediately, his face turning red from his cheeks all the way up the tips of his ears. Word stumbling out of his mouth.

"Yes of course Professor. I did. I did listen."

"Then tell me what the needs of a six year old are." Damn it, now he has been caught off guard, no possibility of talking himself out this time. Instead of scolding him or kicking him out his Professor's eyes soften, at him, his eyes soften, at John.

"I’m sorry Sir, I didn't want to be rude."

"You know what Mister Walker? It's okay." Bob stands up and a wave of panic floods John's nervous system.

"Sir, I don't want to leave just yet. I don’t have anything planned today."

"I didn’t say we are done. Did I?"

"No Sir." Without getting a chance to protest Bob pulls John's shoulders back, keeping him in a firm grip against the back of the chair. John is beyond flabbergasted, never would he have dreamed that those hands are so strong.

Carefully Bob starts to knead and John is in heaven his eyes fluttering at the erasing tension. "How is practice going these days?"

"Pffft. The coach is up my ass. Lets me repeat every throw, even the ones I did right. Oooohh."

"Did that hurt?"

"Yes but please, god, don’t stop."

"Don’t worry, I won’t. And what are your plans after graduation? You wanna become a state player?"

"I honestly still don’t know yet. Jesus, where did you learn how to do that?"

"I had a friend back in college. He majored in physiology, he showed me a trick or two."

"Remind me to thank him for that." John bites down on his bottom lip to suppress an upcoming moan. The last thing he wants is to embarrass himself some more. 

"What do you mean with "you don’t know"? You only have one year left and I’m sure auditions start in November."

"Yeah I know I know. My parents make sure that I don’t forget about that. Can you do that thing with your thumb again?" Bob does what he has been asked for and John nearly blacks out. Murmuring a holy shit under his breath.

"Sorry to hear that."

"No it's okay. They just want what's best for me. That's how parents are."

"Yeah, I guess so."

They stop the talking altogether and John drowns in Professor Reynolds' hands almost crying out loud when he stops. 

"It's getting late Walker, we are finished for today. Go, get some rest." With his head still dizzy John needs a few seconds to gather his thoughts. His breath hitches the second his vision clears. Shit, normally he was able to hold himself back until he was back in his room. 

With trembling hands he hastily packs his stuff and heads for the door. 

"See you around Professor, thank you for the lecture!"

Back in his room and after he got rid of his boner John lays in his bed, eyes fixated at the ceiling. His mind is racing with school, future plans and of course Professor Reynolds. The hours pass and his alarm clock strikes 2am when he abandons the sheets and sits down at his desk. If he can’t sleep he can at least use this time for something useful. The only problem was that yes he couldn’t sleep but he also couldn’t concentrate.

Not even giving it a second thought he yanks open the drawer and takes the bottle of pills out. He got them at the beginning of the school year because everyone uses them. Till this night it sat in his drawer completely untouched so a single try is reasonable right?

Back then he was told that two are enough but John is a grown man, three will do the trick just fine. About one and a half hour later John regrets it, deeply, writing a mental note to never use adderall ever again or maybe next time he should listen and don’t overdo it.

He is gripping the sink in the small bathroom like it could save him. His heartbeat is so rapid that he can hear it in his ears. With deep in and exhales he manages to calm himself down and the intended effect kicks in but not where it is supposed to.

Now he has the hem of his shirt in his mouth, the lens of his phone shutters once, twice, until he is satisfied with the result. His face is not in the picture but that doesn't matter. It is all or nothing now, he can’t keep up with this, whatever this is. He presses send without wasting a second to think about the consequences.

"Hey sweets here is the pic I promised. The next one is waiting already for you 😉"

The first hook appears, then the second and finally they turn blue. Leaving no doubt that he has seen it. John patiently waits a couple of minutes but there is no response coming in. He quietly shuffles around his room looking for his refillable water bottle.

Back in the bathroom he pulls his pants and boxers down low enough to let his cock spring free, holding the water bottle right next to it and takes another picture.

"You don’t have to be shy with me, maybe this one will get you going 😏"

When the three dots appear John's heart almost dares to jump out of his chest.

"Mister Walker, I have to inform you that you have used the wrong chat apparently."

He prepared to type back but the three dots appeared yet again.

"Monday 7:30 in my office. We need to talk."

Oh, fuck. Bob’s hands were on John’s face before he could even think about what he was doing. He curled his fingers around John’s jaw and yanked him into a kiss, tongue dragging sloppily over the outside of his lips. John fell into it easily, slipped his hands underneath Bob’s bathrobe and grabbed at his waist.

Next thing Bob knew, John’s arms were snaking around his waist, down his ass, and then John grabbed him by the knees and fully lifted him up. Bob wrapped his legs around John, fingers pulling on the ends of John’s messy hair. John’s tongue found its way into Bob’s mouth and tickled his Zyn, silently teasing him for the habit he refused to kick.

John’s hands clung to Bob tight, holding him against the wall as he pressed their bodies together. The feeling of his bulge pressing against Bob’s was almost too much, reminding him that he did want everything he wasn’t there to beg for. He dragged his nails down John’s neck to his back and fully undid his zipper, leaving his skin exposed from his hairline to his ass.

“Take it off,” Bob mumbled, bottom lip still connected to John’s by a thin string of spit.

“Thought you weren’t here to beg,” John teased, nose nuzzling against Bob’s. Bob ignored the comment and tugged at the shoulders of John’s suit, struggling to pull it down at his weird angle. John kissed his lips, nipped at the tip of his nose. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Beg and I’ll take it off.”

“Fuck you.”

“You don’t want that. You want me to fuck you. Beg.” Bob stared at John’s lips, fingers tearing at the fabric of John’s clothes. John stole another kiss and breathed hot air against Bob’s mouth. “I want to hear you say it, pretty boy.”

And Bob was so fucking horny and so fucking desperate that he dug his fingertips into John’s soft, strong back and fully whined the word, “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please take your suit off and fuck me.”

“Say it again.”

“For fuck’s sake, John, I need you, please. Please.”

John pulled Bob off the wall suddenly, capturing his lips in yet another sloppy kiss as he carried Bob the short distance from the wall to his bed. Bob bounced on the mattress when John dropped him, watching in awe as John yanked his arms out of his suit and pushed the fabric down to his waist. Rather than pull the rest of the way off, he crawled on the mattress in front of Bob and pushed his way between Bob’s legs.

He dragged Bob’s pants and underwear down in one quick sweep and threw them on the floor. Bob shifted and pushed his hard cock into a more attractive position when John grabbed his thighs and lifted his legs up, giving himself full access to Bob’s waiting ass. John pushed his face between John’s cheeks like he was fucking starving and a full body shiver ran through Bob’s spine when John’s tongue licked flat across his hole all the way to his balls.

“You’re a little loose,” John noted as he pushed two fingers inside Bob’s hole, breath warm against Bob’s taint. “You have a guy over while I was gone?”

Bob shook his head, left hand twisting the blanket beneath him as his right reached for John’s hair. All he’d had was his own hand and a cute glass wand he’d never show to anybody. “I was thinking about you.”

“How big was the toy?”

“Not as big as you.”

Apparently, that was the flattery John wanted to hear. He sat back up and dragged his suit off, cock visibly heavy in his boxers underneath. Bob’s jaw dropped as he stared at John’s package, barely resisting the urge to reach out and give it a squeeze. A desperate whine escaped him when John leaned over him, clothed cock brushing against Bob’s knee as he grabbed the bottle of lube from the drawer beside his bed.

John swung his legs over the side of the bed and rolled his underwear off, unaware of Bob’s wide stare behind him. His cock was hard and thick and so fucking handsome. Bob spread his legs a little wider without even thinking, shifting to give John a better angle. He watched as John slicked himself with the lube, shivered when John rubbed the excess on his waiting hole.

Bob relaxed into the pillows as John shuffled forward on his knees, the tip of his cock kissing Bob’s warm entrance. He cursed beneath his breath when John pushed inside, not slowing or stopping once on the way in. Bob’s back arched when John bottomed out, his insides stinging from the pressure of John’s thick shaft stretching him open the rest of the way. Bob whimpered as he inhaled, scratching at the mattress as he waited for his body to adjust to John’s girth.

“You okay?” asked John, all his dominance suddenly gone. The first time he’d stopped prepping when Bob wanted him to and of course he freaked out that it wasn’t enough.

“Mmhm.” Bob grabbed one of John’s hands and squeezed the back of it where it rested on Bob’s waist. “Fuck me.”

For once, John wasted no time. He looped his arms under Bob’s knees and pushed his legs back as he moved his cock out only to immediately push in deeper. Bob threw his head back and bit his lip to stifle his moan, his tip oozing precum over his own abdomen as he reached behind him and grabbed John’s headboard.

Everything about it was desperate. Bob curled his hips up just enough for John to plow into him and John did exactly that, the bed rocking beneath them as he fucked Bob, fingertips digging deep into his thighs. John’s cock slid in and out of him, fast and deep but never quite deep enough. Bob grabbed his own shaft with his left hand, chasing further stimulation.

“Harder,” Bob begged, failing to find whatever it was his body craved. He dragged his slick hand up his body and pinched his tit, but it still didn’t quite hit. “John, harder. And deeper. Go deeper than that.”

“Your prostate is two inches deep,” grumbled John, sweat glistening beneath his hairline. He shifted forward, pushing harder but not farther when he lifted Bob’s knees over his shoulders. “You don’t need me in your stomach.”

“I want you in my stomach. Fuck me harder. Harder. John, just— fuck!”

John’s bed frame fucking cracked, splinters sliding off Bob’s invulnerable palm. He couldn’t even say sorry, too overwhelmed by the feeling of John’s thigh cock dripping precum somewhere deeper than his hips. Bob shoved the tip of his thumb in his mouth and bit down hard, embracing the feeling of his prostate being absolutely wrecked by the thickest part of John’s cock.

“Harder,” Bob whined, as if tears weren’t already building at the corners of his eyes from the strain. But it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. It felt just short of the greatest sex Bob had ever imagined. “Harder. Harder. Harder. Wait. Wait! What—?!”

Bob’s struggle to satisfy his body intensified by infinity when John fully pulled out and dropped Bob’s legs on the mattress. He wanted to fucking sob, cock laying heavy and needy and dripping on his stomach, wet hole pulsating with each trembling, abandoned breath. Maybe John was just an asshole.

Except before Bob could find another word, John wrapped his arms around Bob’s stomach, lifted him up, and turned him over. He pulled Bob’s bathrobe off and shoved his t-shirt up to his tits; pushed Bob’s shoulders down into the mattress with this left hand, his right pulling Bob’s hips up by his pelvis. John squeezed his hand at the point between the top of Bob’s neck and the bottom of his head, fingers pushing deep into some of the softest parts of his body.

“Can’t fuck you harder like that,” John bitched, hands still silently forcing Bob into a new position. He dragged his left hand along Bob’s spine when he released, fingers finding their way back to Bob’s hole. He slicked them with lube again before he pushed them inside, not fingering Bob but re-prepping him. Bob shivered, unable to muffle his whine. “You good?”

“Please.”

John’s reentry felt even better than the initial fuck. He moaned into John’s pillow, a stupid amount of precum spilling on John’s blanket beneath him. Bob clawed at the edge of the pillowcase, spit soaking into the soft material as John pushed into him as hard as he physically could.

It should’ve hurt. That occurred to Bob more than once. John was squeezing him with the full force of a super soldier, shoving deeper into him than most people could handle. But it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. It just felt fucking incredible.

His cock swung beneath them, John’s balls slapping against his ass with each hard thrust. John was able to fuck him significantly better at the new angle, cock plowing straight in his hole down into… wherever John’s cock went. Bob didn’t care about the anatomy of it. He only cared that it felt right.

“Better?” asked John through heavy breaths.

Bob lifted a trembling thumb, unable to find any words to express his approval. The slightest drop of his jaw released a string of saliva, pooling at the corner of his mouth. A tear dripped down his cheek, joining a thin line of sweat. John increased his pace, pounding into Bob like a fucking jackhammer, and he had to release his grip on the pillow the second he felt the threads start to tear.

“Holy fuck.” Bob turned his face fully into the pillow and whimpered, his pelvis twisting with tension and his cock fucking throbbing as it twitched where it swung beneath him. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” No response. Just more cock, a harder grip, fingernails teasing Bob’s hips like John was claiming him in every way. Maybe John didn’t hear. “John, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna— oh, fuck.”

There it was. A sob ripped its way out of Bob’s throat as he came, messy ropes of cum squirting across the blanket and the exposed sheets. Bob squeezed the pillowcase until the stitches tore and bit down on the tip of his thumb. John didn’t slow down for a second, still giving Bob everything he’d so explicitly begged for.

Every thrust over Bob’s prostate forced another spurt of cum out of him until there was nothing left, until his gutters were dry, until he was fucking crying into the pillow. And then, just as he started to settle, his insides were suddenly flooded with John’s release, with the full length of John’s cock stopped deep inside him. In John’s defense, he probably had given a warning, Bob’s ears were just pounding too much to really hear it.

“Fuck.” The pillowcase tore as his knees slipped and he fell into the mattress, John’s hands quickly shifting to guide him down. His cock squeezed out everything he had left to give as he came again, warmth pooling beneath him, soaking John’s poor sheet. Bob fully sobbed as he shoved his face into the pillow, pushing himself to hold John’s cock for as long as he physically could. “Stop, stop, stop.”

John pulled out without a second of hesitation, cum dripping down Bob’s ass cheeks as he settled on the mattress, legs fully trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut, his tears quickly absorbed into the pillow. Bob mumbled incoherently, barely aware of what he was saying, trying his best to self-soothe as his body settled agonizingly slowly.

“You told me harder,” said John, like he was trying to reassure himself that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Bob nodded, silently agreeing that was true. He softened when John’s hand landed on his lower back, rubbing comforting circles up to his shoulders. “You okay?”

“I— I think— ” Bob groaned and pushed his flushed, teary face back into the pillow, trying to focus on the comforting presence of John’s strong hand. “I think I— I— fuck, man.”

“You’re all right.” He tucked one of Bob’s curls behind his ear with his free hand, knuckles softly brushing over his cheek. “Take a deep breath.”

“I think I pissed on your mattress.”

The laugh that left John’s throat was genuine and unbothered, instantly calming Bob’s embarrassment. He leaned over and kissed Bob’s temple, fingers massaging deep into his shoulders. “Pretty sure I just busted the springs anyway.”

“Mmhm.” They’d never fucked that hard. They’d never been that desperate. John told the truth. “You missed me.”