The Guardian

The taste of the coffee seemed bitterer than usual.

Maybe it was because he had fought with his wife again, or perhaps it was the daily stress of having to deal with a mountain of paperwork since he took over the position of pro-vice-chancellor of graduate programs at the University of Valinor. Or it could just be the bad mood common to the 40s. Honestly, he didn't care about the reason. He just felt exhausted for a Monday morning, wondering if he had really made the best decision by reducing his classroom hours to deal with bureaucracy and political games.

His wife might be right after all. He was no longer the same professor who had the tranquility to control and teach over 140 students a day and still have the energy to go out at night. Not that he really liked socializing. It was something he had learned to do because it was part of his profession and, of course, because his wife liked it. If he were honest, there were days when all he wanted was to be completely alone, just drinking bitter coffee and ignoring everyone around him.

That was exactly what he intended for that morning. He wasn't in the mood to deal with all the paperwork, and he didn't intend to do so for a good while. He just wanted to take advantage of the fact that he had no students to see, classes to teach, or, in the worst case, professors wanting to talk. The advantage of his office being practically invisible at first sight earned him a few good minutes in silence, with only the distant sound of birds and the rustling of leaves rubbing against the window.

Although his colleagues believed he was extremely ambitious, he only saw himself as someone who knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed to do to get it. And his office was a clear example of that. He had spent three long years attending university parties to get it, and when he did, well, his position changing was a welcome consequence. Although he didn't much like the paperwork or being in the middle of political games, being responsible for the grad programs had its advantages. Loneliness, for example.

All he wanted was to rest his head for at least five minutes.

But of course, he couldn't afford that luxury that day.

He didn't need to think much to know who it was. The woody perfume with a spicy note and a slight aroma of wine was the trademark of only one person in the entire university. Subconsciously, Ar-Pharazôn gripped the coffee cup tighter and adjusted himself in his chair while running his hands through his black hair. It was something that always escaped his control, as if the other had some kind of power over his body and his actions, even when he knew that couldn't be real. It was just in his head, an idea that should never leave his thoughts.

"Am I bothering you?" That voice, in a tone both grave and soft at the same time, was like sin coated in honey. "I wanted to have coffee with someone today. If it's all right with you, of course."

He should say yes, he was bothering him. He should say his office wasn't meant for idle chatter or that he didn't want company that morning. In reality, he had so many reasons not to wish to be in the presence of the other man that he avoided doing so. Looking at that professor with hair as red as flames and eyes as golden as liquid gold was like signing his death warrant. At the same time that he hated him, he couldn't stay away, even if he tried.

But he was weak, after all.

Especially when the other wore those dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the top two buttons open revealing part of his chest and those tight pants that accentuated his curves. Or that gold chain around his neck with a ring hanging on it, a family heirloom if he wasn't much mistaken. Or even the snake tattoo that went down the man's right arm and hid under that cotton fabric.

Not that he was watching, of course.

"Playing the shy card with me doesn't work, Sauron." His voice came out raspy, low, but he smiled anyway. Not a fake smile like he was used to offering others. "Come in and close the door."

"You offend me like that, dear." The redhead gave one of those smirks that always made the students giggle silly and entered the room with the naturalness of someone who knew exactly what to do. "Can't a man simply wish to accompany a colleague during coffee?"

The way Sauron moved through the room was that of someone who knew the environment better than anyone. Of course, considering he had known it since he was just a young professor and student, it wouldn't be very difficult to imagine how many times he had frequented that office over all those years. He was younger, more enthusiastic, still single. He didn't remember ever hearing the other complain about a relationship before, much less any problem per se. The redhead was like an unknown variable. Few knew what he thought, they only had the notion that he was extremely intelligent.

And attractive, by the way.

"You have other colleagues besides me. What makes me so interesting that you choose to have coffee with me instead of them is a mystery." Ar-Pharazôn commented, taking a long sip of his bitter drink. "Could Professor Leblanc have a preference among his colleagues?"

That made the other man laugh in a way that it was possible to observe every vein in his throat. No, he wasn't looking. It was just hard to look away when the raspy and sincere laugh made him tilt his head back and show the pale, unmarked skin. Ar-Pharazôn had to turn his face to the window and take another sip of coffee to not think too much about that.

God, it was hard to concentrate with that perfume messing with his senses.

"Besides this quiet office," Sauron began calmly and slowly, leaning in and blinking his gold-like eyes with a smile. "I like your company."

Oh.

That smile. That damned smile was like a sin coated in a blessing. He hated the temptation that the slightly pink lips offered him. He hated it because he didn't understand the reason for feeling so moved by that simple gesture. He was married, for God's sake. Worse yet, he was straight. There was no sense in feeling tempted to discover what that damned mouth might taste like, nor in listening to that voice, always so confident and raspy, pleading for him.

If magic existed, Sauron was probably one of its practitioners.

It was the only explanation he could find to justify the irregular beating of his heart. Or maybe he was getting sick from drinking so much. Maybe he should exercise more instead of attending parties that his wife dragged him to. Damned man. Clearing his throat slightly and taking a sip of his coffee, Ar-Pharazôn leaned back and smiled sarcastically.

"Or maybe you just want to see me more stressed. As if I didn't get stressed enough with the students and other professors." He answered after a while while staring into those golden eyes that seemed to shine like sin.

"I don't see any advantages in that." The other laughed lightly and smiled while leaning in conspiratorially. "I like it when your attention is all on me. A selfish point, but what being isn't selfish in this world, isn't it?"

"Oh, but selfishness can lead men to do things they usually wouldn't do on other occasions." Pharazôn didn't know exactly what led him to say that. He didn't even have an idea why he was leaning slightly in the direction of the other man.

Sauron, for his part, like the damned demon he was, leaned forward too. Close. So close that the older man could smell his intoxicating perfume with much more intensity. So strong that the simple presence of that man seemed to incite him to lean in more, like a magnetic force pulling him closer and closer, forgetting himself totally for a moment. Their breaths were starting to mingle and their lips were inches apart.

And then…

The redhead let out a raspy laugh.

Ar-Pharazôn couldn't believe what his dark eyes were seeing. The wretch had simply started laughing and pulling away, as if all that were nothing more than a joke. A game. A trap where he was the prey and the redhead was the predator. His eyes, however, traitors, couldn't stop noticing how the reddish lips opened into a charming, sinful, forbidden smile. Or in the way the necklace with a ring hanging from it shone softly against the fair skin.

Damned be the being who had put that man on Earth to walk among men.

"You're right, my dear friend. Selfishness is a common evil of the human race. A disease so subtle that it has already impregnated kings and destroyed entire empires." The other said calmly, his voice a soft tone while he picked up the coffee and took a sip from the pro-vice-chancellor's cup. "But do you know what is more powerful than selfishness?"

Sauron paused, letting his words settle as he leaned in. Ar-Pharazôn could feel the other's breath in his ear, his breath warm from the strong drink causing shivers while his voice, naturally raspy, whispered:

"Passion. The vile, human thing that consumes the mind, the heart, and the body of its owner. Can you imagine that? Can you feel that, dear?"

"Sauron…" Ar-Pharazôn let out a low grunt while sighing and shaking his head, trying to dissipate the thoughts that were corrupting his mind and soul. He constantly needed to remind himself that he was straight and married.

"Oh, you can't take an innocent little joke." The redhead let out an amused laugh and then sighed. "I didn't even do anything much. If you reacted like that now, I imagine how you would react to what I really wanted to do."

With an amused laugh, the redhead then stood up and, with calm steps, headed to the office door. His hips swayed slightly, and Pharazôn forced himself to look away from that body while clenching his fists. Sauron then stopped at the entrance, turned his head slightly and smiled, his golden eyes shining subtly while he posed in an intriguing way for a brief moment.

"I'll see you later, dear. Who knows, you might be more… open when I come back." He winked and finally closed the door.

A sigh escaped the pro-vice-chancellor's lips when he found himself alone again. He hadn't even realized he was holding the air in his lungs. The damned redhead had the capacity to scramble his thoughts and play with his body in a way that, in all his 44 years, no one else had managed. And ah, damned be that man for leaving him wondering what he meant by his true desires.

"Damn it." He grunted, frowning as his hands ran through his hair. He breathed once, twice, three times. Enough to manage to recover his senses and think more calmly.

Or so he thought.

He was only aware of his actions when the crack of porcelain colliding against plaster and then colliding with the polished wooden floor echoed through the silent office. He had broken his cup. Again. For the same reason.

Oh, that redhead would be the end of him. And perhaps, he wanted it to be.

[...]

Humming calmly in the staff room, the redhead took a sip of coffee he had found still in the coffee maker provided for the staff. His classes for the day had ended, and he was preparing for a long afternoon of grading exams. At least he had had fun earlier. Such was his happiness that two of his colleagues present at that moment couldn't help but notice Sauron's constant provocations.

"Don't you think you're torturing Pharazôn too much?" Melkor, the man with black hair and stubble, asked, his voice low while he blew the smoke from his coffee, his eyes fixed on the exams in his hands.

"Oh, Melk." Sauron gave a little laugh while sitting in one of the chairs and crossing his leg. "Quite the opposite. It only gets more funnier as the days pass."

The smile that marked his lips shouldn't have seemed cruel or, even, fun. But he couldn't help himself. Even though he was among friends. Even though they knew part of what he had been doing every day since Ar-Pharazôn Deveraux crossed his path on some random day.

"Provoking a married man has become your fun now? I didn't know you had stooped so low to this level, Sauron." The blond, with long, wavy hair, commented from the other side while his blue eyes stared at him mockingly. "Besides, it's not like Pharazôn is going to fall that easily."

"Oh, Thranduil," The other laughed amusedly, drawing the attention of the two men. "You wound me, dear. It seems you don't know me or the woman who raised the three of us as our mother long enough to give me some manners." The simple mention of the woman made both of the older ones tense up and look at him seriously. "His marriage is already ending anyway. I don't need to do much. Besides… I don't want him to leverage my career. I want to see him burning for me until he can't stand it. I want him to feel like he needs me to the point of running after me like a good little dog. It's just a matter of time."