#gi.ask

In the beginning, the two of them only chat about school matters, but as the semester goes by, they grow more at ease with one another. Connor asks Leon about his life, how his studies are going, normal questions he asks all his students. What is not normal is how engaged Leon is in their chats, the fact that he asks questions back, wants to learn about Connor, what drove him to California, why he’s passionate about biology. They chat about sports, living abroad, these long conversations that go way past Connor’s official hours. The first time it happens, Leon doesn’t notice how late it is until he checks the time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that, I've been totally monopolising your time.”

Connor waves him off. “It’s fine, I've enjoyed our conversation.”

“Yeah?” Leon grins and there’s the slightest flirtatious edge to his voice, not enough to be inappropriate, but enough to make Connor shiver. “That’s good to know.”

At this point, Connor is not thinking anything will happen between them because that’s so deeply, unbelievably inappropriate, it’s not even worth considering. Plus, he doesn’t even know if Leon is into guys. And even if he was, absolutely nothing says he would be into his weird old biology professor. And even if he was! It wouldn’t matter! Because Leon is 18 and Connor is 34, and it would be breaking ALL THE RULES. so. Obviously, nothing will happen.

Time passes, the office visits continue. Leon decides to fully major in biology, which means he has classes with Connor every semester. he asks Connor to come to one of his lacrosse games. Connor tells him he already goes to most. Leon smiles, asks where he usually sits, and next game, after he scores, he makes sure to turn to where Connor is in the crowd and throw a big wave and a wink. Connor blushes furiously, hides his face in his parka and prays to hell and back that no one saw that, and obviously no one did, or if they did, they didn’t notice him. 

The end of Leon’s first year at Berkeley comes and goes without much fanfare. At this stage, his and Connor’s relationship develops into what’s mostly a cautious friendship, with the hint of something else lingering in the air, easy enough to ignore. If Leon stays behind during office hours more often than not, if he finds excuses to touch Connor’s arm – to grab his attention, to flick off a bit of dust, to unwrinkle his perpetually wrinkled shirt – then nobody but them is any the wiser, and these moments, these little interactions, they’re all meaningless. Leon doesn’t mean anything by them.

Second year comes along, and this is when their relationship changes. Something happens here that draws them together. Maybe Leon gets injured, can’t play for two months, stops hanging out with his lacrosse buddies and becomes depressed. Connor notices, obviously, but struggles to find the right words to say, how to offer comfort without being condescending or annoying. He asks Leon all the time, “Are you alright?” and Leon always smiles, shrugs, says, “Of course,” like there’s nothing else to say, like there’s no other option but to be fine, to keep things moving.

A week goes by, then another, and Leon’s mood doesn’t improve, only seems to go down as the seasons change and the cold sets in. “Are you going home for Christmas?” Connor asks, a couple of days ahead of the semester end.

“too expensive.” Leon shakes his head, trying to put on a smile to hide his pain. “I have plans to eat my own weight in instant ramen and watch all of Naruto.”

Connor cringes, mentally and physically, hating how resigned Leon sounds, how depressing his plans are. On instinct, he blurts out, “I’m staying in town too.” 

This is technically a lie. The truth is, he was planning to go back home and spend Christmas with his family, but he hasn’t bought the flights yet, leaving it to the last minute as always. Still, Leon doesn’t know that. 

“You’re not going to Toronto?”

“No, I’m not going to do much, but I can cook.” Another lie. “If you’re looking for someone to spend time with, that is. Obviously, you can say no. I don’t want to make things weird.”

“You’re not,” Leon rushes to say, his smile shifting, turning into something real, something beautiful. “I would love to come.”

Connor smiles back. “Great.”

This is where things start to shift for them because having Leon over is more than nice. It’s homely, comforting and fun. They get along well, which Connor already knew, but it’s so different seeing it in the privacy of his own home, away from campus and prying eyes, just the two of them laughing over dinner and sharing a bottle of wine (“You’re underage.” “I’m German.”)

They exchange gifts, neither expecting much, both surprised when they get something more thoughtful than they could have ever expected: a new tie for Connor, with otters, the subject of Connor’s PhD thesis, which Leon has definitely read, and an air fryer for Leon (“so you can cook more than just instant ramen in your dorm”).

And it’s nice. It’s really, really nice.

Afterwards, it becomes obvious that something has changed. Without meaning to, they have crossed a line. Worse, Connor doesn’t know if he wants to go back. He knows he should—obviously, obviously he should—but the mere idea is painful: to push Leon away, to hold him at arm’s length when his presence brings Connor so much joy, when their meetings are the highlight of his week, when his presence is the best Connor feels, light and buoyant and understood.

So he doesn’t push Leon away. He doesn’t invite him back to his apartment either. Sometimes, when he’s leaving Connor’s office, Leon lingers, looking Connor in the eye like there’s something he wants to say, a question on the tip of his tongue, but whatever it might be goes unsaid, both aware they can’t say it, both aware it doesn’t need to be said.

The avoidance of Connor’s apartment doesn’t mean avoidance of other spaces. Leon invites Connor out once, to a coffee shop across the city, far away enough that they’re unlikely to ran into any students. It’s unwise, but in a moment of loneliness, Connor says, “yes,” craving the warmth of Leon’s smile, the way his whole body lights up in joy. A coffee shop, though not ideal, is acceptable. It’s a public space, and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Connor would meet with a student there to offer advice and mentorship. still, they both know this is not what they’re doing. They don’t talk about school at all, instead discussing hockey, lacrosse, and summer plans. They joke around a lot. Leon touches Connor’s hand. Connor doesn’t push him away.

This limbo goes on until the end of Leon’s second year, when he invites Connor for a drink. This invitation is riskier on both their parts. Leon is 20, still too young to drink in the States. Connor is a professor. There is no excuse to be seen with an underage student at a bar. 

And still, he says, “yes.”

The drinks actually go… fine. They don’t get drunk, and they don’t get touchy, but there’s this tension between them, this undercurrent of promise that drives Connor mad, one second unsure if he’s imagining it, the other dead certain Leon feels the same. He spends a lot of time staring at Leon, memorising him with his eyes, looking at every movement of his, every expression, wanting to devour him. Leon is young, but he is not a child. At 20, he is already large, with broad shoulders and big muscles, larger than Connor, who struggles to put on weight. He has a set routine at the gym that keeps his build more than grows it. Leon is bigger than him, but his beard is still patchy, and there’s a hint of baby fat on his jaw. he is both young and not.

Connor thinks all this, then is riddled with shame, with guilt. He has never thought this of a student before.

When they finally leave the bar, Leon grabs Connor’s hand and silently drags him to an alley, discreet and poorly lit. He doesn’t say anything. Connor doesn’t either. They lean into each other at the same time, the kiss natural, as if they’ve done this a thousand times. Leon tastes of beer, his breath sour, the back of his shirt damp with sweat. Connor loses himself in the kiss, gets pushed back against a wall, manhandled so expertly he’s sure Leon must have done this to a dozen other guys before. It’s hard to say how long they spend making out, but by the time they part, Connor is hard as a rock. Leon looks equally devastated.

“Come back to my place,” Leon says.

“No.” Leon looks around, as if he’s trying to decide how unwise it would be to fuck in public. He seems to come to a decision, because he leans for another kiss. Connor turns his face away just in time, avoiding his mouth. “We can’t do this.”

“Here?”

“No. at all.”

“Connor,” Leon groans, and here he sounds like the young guy he is, petulant like a child. “Come on.”

“No, I’m your professor. This is beyond inappropriate. I could get fired. You could be expelled.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Leo, I’m serious. We can’t.”

It’s the nickname more than anything that gets to Leon. Connor sounds desperate, at the edge of a cliff and ready to jump, all to avoid this, to avoid him. Leon takes a step back.

"Okay," he says. 

The question is directed at Doc, who puffs up his chest, but doesn't get a chance to answer before Leon leans in and says. "Whoever the unlucky lady is, I bet she'll love that big, bald head of yours."

The joke causes a fair amount of outrage. Pillows are thrown across the room as beer cans spill on the floor. Connor gets the mop out, and the guys take this as their excuse to leave, the hour later than they realised. Connor says his goodbyes, hears the front door close as he begins tidying up.

A pair of feet pads across the floor, nearly silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor sees Leon lean down as he picks up empty styrofoam boxes from their late-night takeaway order.

The lights are turned low, and the music in the background is quite soft when Connor speaks. "Do you believe in it? All that soulmates stuff?"

"Well, scientists have proved it's true, so I'm not sure if it's really a matter of belief."

Connor hides his eye roll by picking up the empty beer cans on the floor. "Plenty of people doubt them regardless. But anyway, I meant more so that you'll find yours."

"Oh, that. I don't know. It seems unlikely, given the odds. Plus, it's kind of awkward. Like, am I meant to go up to people and ask to bite them on the neck? Who does that?"

"I know, right? Like." He drops his trash bag on the floor and takes a step closer to Leon, an easy smile on his face. "Imagine I just leaned in right now and bit you."

Leon laughs as he shakes his head. "Yeah, that would be crazy. Imagine I just pulled you in." And he does it to exemplify what he means, grabbing Connor by the waist and dragging him close until their chests are touching. "And I bit your neck."

His mouth is so close that Connor can feel his heavy breath, how it seems to ghost over his skin. Goosebumps break out all over Connor's neck. It's not the closest they've ever been, but it's pretty close.

"Imagine," Connor says, his voice so quiet he might as well be whispering. He's ready to step back at any moment when he feels two sharp canines press in, a hot tongue on his skin.

It happens instantaneously. Connor has read about this dozens of times, but nothing can compare to the live experience. His skin burns hot, searingly so, heat radiating outward from the point of contact, like a bite from a venomous spider. He feels it all the way down his body, the rush of endorphins, his head going light-headed as his limbs grow heavy. He falls into Leon's body, but Leon's not able to catch him, likely going through the same experience himself, and they fall onto the floor in a messy heap. Guess that's why people recommend doing this lying down.

"What just happened?" Leon asks, but he knows, and Connor knows that he knows because he can feel it, their minds and bodies connected in a way they'll never be able to escape. A soulmate bond.

"I think we fucked up."

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