#professorsau

“Oh—sorry about that. What do you need?” You’re such a liar, Nico thinks and doesn’t say.

  “I was wondering if you could tell me if my response to the essay question on the homework met the requirements you listed.”

  “Not a problem.” Nico sets down his cup of coffee. A sleeping Lupa shifts in his lap, yawning softly before she burrows into his hoodie. Nico accepts his student’s notebook quietly and quickly scans over it. “This looks fine. Excellent, actually.”

  His student beams.

  “I’m guessing Mister Haddock explained it well, then,” Nico tries to say as casually as possible, “after he came up here twenty minutes ago?”

  Nico flashes a stern look to a group of students not too from the booth where Jason and he are sitting. They all flinch as they see his gaze, and pretend that they aren’t eavesdropping at all.

  The student twitches, grinning nervously, and tips his hat. “Um—he’s not very good at…explaining things. I figured I’d ask you just in case.”

  “Then you probably shouldn’t be sitting next to him in my class either, Mister Hamada.” Jason arches an eyebrow, looking more amused than Nico can conjure. “Then again—as I recall, you and your brother were busy playing paper football this morning.”

  Mister Hamada freezes. His lips curl into a subtle grimace.

  This time, Nico can’t hide his amusement. He turns to Jason, breaking his grimace. “Paper football?”

  “Oh yeah,” Jason gloats. “I won.”

  Snort.

  “I take it this was one of the classes that I didn’t attend?” Nico muses.

  “Me against 150 kids. I could’ve used your help,” Jason jokes. He pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose and smiles goofily. Nico rolls his eyes.

  “Um,” Mister Hamada asks, “may I go?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Let us know if you have any questions,” Nico says. He wishes he wasn’t required by the school to say that. While he doesn’t mind helping out his students with whatever they require, Nico can’t help getting a little uncomfortable when his students invade on his personal time.

  It’s not really a date, he reminds himself. Two professors getting coffee hardly qualifies as a date.

  Even if that professor’s dog has made a nest out of your lap.

  “Okay,” Mister Hamada says. He shifts awkwardly before nodding his head towards Nico’s lap. “Um, cute dog.”

  “Thanks,” Jason beams.

  Like that. Like that. Nico’s face scrunches and he keeps from smacking himself in the forehead.

  Mister Hamada’s eyes widen, but he says nothing before scurrying back to his friends.

  “Nice kid,” Jason says. “Don’t you think?”

  Nico snorts. “You really played paper football with him?”

  “How could I not?” Jason’s lips curl into a tiny smile and makes a gesture. “When you get a hundred points if you smack Professor Grace between the eyes?”

  “I think you’re too buddy-buddy with your students.”

  “Better that than the alternative.” A quiet laugh leaves Jason’s mouth and he shakes his head. “My stepmom sent me to this prestigious prep school in San Francisco as soon as I learned how to walk. Jupiter Academia. I hated it.”

  “Top of the class, in every club imaginable, and on at least five sports teams.”

  Jason blinks, looking bewildered.

  “You seem like the type,” Nico remarks simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He shrugs, and then grimaces, wondering if his words came out more rudely than they sounded in his head.

  “I’m that type, huh?”

  Nico shrugs, but his body is completely tense. He doesn’t break eye contact with Jason, but his foot starts tapping nervously under the table.

  “I was only on two sports teams.”

  He blinks. Nico watches Jason’s lips break into a smile, and the other professor looks amused.

“Lacrosse and track,” Jason elaborates. He looks up to the sky, then makes three tick marks with his hands. “Fencing, too, if that counts as a sport. I’m pretty good at fencing.”

  That piques Nico’s interest. He tries to imagine Jason at a fencing tournament or with a sword—but the silly side of him suddenly dresses Jason up as Luke Skywalker in his head with a light saber—and that makes him smile.

  “What?” Jason doesn’t question the sudden grin on Nico’s face. He laughs—a soft, sweet chuckle. “My stepmom wanted me to be an all-around American Boy, but it’s pretty hard if you’re not that smart.”

  “You’re plenty smart,” Nico admonishes. He frowns—knowing he’s the last person on earth who should be instilling self confidence in anyone—but does so anyway. Nico’s about to reach out and squeeze Jason’s hand reassuringly, but pauses. Instead, he plays it off by petting Lupa on the head.

  She wakes up, whines at him, and goes back to sleeping.

  “Thanks.” There’s some tension in Jason’s eyes. It’s then Nico realizes that as friendly as Jason is, Jason isn’t as open as Will Solace or Frank or Percy. The you seem like the type comment hurts Jason more than he wants to let on—and Nico feels like an idiot for saying that.

  “I got my GED when I was sixteen,” Nico explains. He keeps from smacking himself. Nico doesn’t exactly like making himself the center of attention, either. “Homeschooled for most of my life. You wouldn’t believe what kind of shock it is to get out of the house. It’s—like stepping out of the Underworld and realizing everything on the other side is different.”

  “That big of a step for you, huh?” Jason asks, amused.

  Nico shrugs in a nonchalant fashion and sinks back in his seat. And it’s left at that. Two private people awkwardly trying to bond and bumping noses in the process.

  (Bumping noses is a bad metaphor, but whatever.)

  He starts racking his brain, every instinct in his body screaming about how this is a bad idea. Talking to Jason isn’t bad—but Nico’s brain melts to goop when he realizes how scared he is when they run out of things to talk about.

  Fiddling with the paper sleeve on his coffee, Nico tries to think of what else to talk about. He can feel students’ eyes from the booth opposite of them, waiting for something. Nico wrinkles his nose when he notices find things to talk about turns into find excuses to leave in his head.

  Maybe he’d be less nervous if he hadn’t angrily barged into Jason’s office earlier or accused him of being married. Ugh.

  “You play any games with your students?” Jason’s question makes Nico jump. “Like paper football?”

  Looking up, Nico blinks owlishly. His heart skips a beat when he sees the smile over Jason’s face—immaculate and sweet like the one in the photo he’d gotten a few weeks earlier. Nico chews on the inside of his mouth, not trusting what would come out.

  It hits him how relaxed Jason is. That…they could be quiet and relaxed. Jason doesn’t seem offended at the lull in conversation, and Nico’s grateful for the silences.

  “Other than, Guess Who Professor di Angelo is dating?” Nico snorts.

  Jason laughs. “My students haven’t even brought it up.”

  “You’re the new teacher. Students aren’t sure how to react.” Nico shrugs. “I hear neutral things from most of them. They think your workload can be a bit much, but your pacing with the lesson plan is good. They like you.”

  “Not as much as they like you.” Jason chuckles softly under his breath and leans over the table. “Seriously—they rave on and on about your class. I’ve seen the papers—a lot of people pass your class with flying colors, and European History isn’t something people can get right away.”

  Nico blinks. He feels his cheeks heating up. He hears a giggle—and shoots glare at Haddock and Hamada. Their group quickly quiets down.

  When Nico looks back, he sees that Jason’s cheeks are a little red, too. Jason looks embarrassed, at least—that way Nico doesn’t have to carry this whole notion on his own shoulders. 

  “Did…this ever happen with your ex-boyfriend?” Jason asks. Nico’s glad that he sounds reluctant to ask.

  “Our students rarely crossed,” Nico explains. “And we kept the relationship…under wraps.”

  He did, at least.

  “And I’m very private about my personal life,” he continues. He rubs his temples and shakes his head. “At least before…this.”

  “I can deny it in my next lecture.” Jason shrugs. “And we can…see each other less. I guess dropping by your classes so often does sound weird.”

  Cheeks heating up, Nico notices Jason fails to mention that Nico started it. He’d popped into Jason’s class on the first day of school out of amusement—some stupid once-a-month need to satisfy his funny bone. Nico has his moments where he feels the need to size someone up—especially if that someone was doing the same thing to him.

  (He makes a mental note to stop hanging out with their department head, Jackson.)

  “I don’t really mind,” Nico blurts out admits his thoughts. He plays with the paper sleeve again. “I like having your company there. It’s…refreshing.”

  When he looks up, he sees Jason smiling at him so brightly that the other professor could light up a whole town. “I like your company, too.”

  Nico fidgets. A smile curls against his lips, and he tries to hide it under a hand. He shakes his head, unsure of what to say—but in a good kind of way.

  “Listen,” Jason says a moment later, his voice shy. “I know that…our students thinking of us being a couple is weird, but would you ever want to—”

  “Hey, Nico.”

  Nico flinches at the new voice intrusion, and cocks his head to the side. Once he realizes who it is, he stands to his feet and tries not to grimace. “Will.”

  Will’s dressed in the same fashion he always is—a scrubs top, blue jeans, and a pair of flipflops—two out of three of which that Nico’s certain aren’t allowed in surgery. His blond hair is loose, eyes still shining with mischief, and his stupid smile on his face. He turns to Jason and extends a hand. “Professor Solace. Professor Grace, right? I’ve heard good things about you.”

  Jason blinks at the hand in front of him and chuckles softly. “I can’t be the only professor to mistake a room, can I?”

  “Nah. Most of your hard time comes from being the new guy.” Will snickers. “And you crossed this guy—” Will gestures to Nico and Nico grimaces. “—who’s well-liked by most of the students. I was the last new guy—transferred in the middle of a semester a few years back. Like—tada! Here I am.”

  “Good to know.” Jason arches an eyebrow, looking nothing less than polite, and shakes Will’s hand.

  It’s then that Nico realizes something is tucked in Will’s arm. Will catches him staring—and that stupid sunshine smile gets redirected towards him. “It’s getting cold, so I figured you’d want this back. Some of your stuff is still at my apartment.”

  “Thanks.” Nico hastily takes it back—realizes it’s his aviator’s jacket, and blinks. “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Yeah, you still have some of your stuff at my place,” Will says with ease. His voice is smooth, like he’s singing a melody without having to try. Nico’d bet that all Will has to do is walk outside and the rain would stop. “Swing by some time and pick it up, okay? Or we can grab coffee or something—we haven’t had time for each other in a while.”

  “That’s kind of the point when you stop dating people,” Nico retorts flatly. He rolls his eyes. “But you’re right. I’d like my stuff back.”

  “Cool.” Will beams at him. He looks back and forth between Jason and Nico—and blithely continues, “Wednesday work for you?”

  “Actually, Wednesday’s—”

  “Please. You can put a hold on your comic book store adventures on hold to get your jackets back. Or if you’d like—just cancel class and pretend you’re sick.” Will pats Jason on the shoulder and grins. “You know he cancels class when they’re ahead on the lesson plan just to go buy video games?”

  “Do not,” Nico grumbles.

  “Anyway—” Will turns to Jason again. “Watch this one. He eats a grape and calls that breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  Immediately, Jason cocks his head towards Nico and flashes a look of concern. Nico waves his hand dismissively.

  “See you Wednesday, Neeks.” Will reaches over, pecks Nico on the cheek, and trots off elsewhere.

  There’s a collective gasp behind them.

  “Love triangle,” one student whispers, “the plot thickens.”

  Nico grinds his teeth. It’s the only thing he can do to ward off an incoming headache.

  Eventually, Jason clears his throat—which forces them back in their seats. “So…boyfriend?”

  “I think you can see why we broke up,” Nico says. He sighs and wipes the wet spot on his face.

  “Was that the guy that…?” Jason makes a gesture with his shoulders—which apparently is supposed to mean, you were almost engaged to?

  Nico makes another face. One that he usually makes before telling his class to stop discussing his personal life. “You can tell in the way he smiles that he has great taste in men.”

  A smile quirks against Jason’s lips. He’s probably trying not to ask how someone as happy as Will can be with someone as grouchy as Nico. “I mean…I think you’re great.”

  The other professor bites the inside of his mouth and hopes he isn’t as red as he feels. “You were saying something? Before…ahem. That?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Jason’s smile becomes tight—but he says nothing else. Instead, he stands to his feet again. “It’s getting late, though. My afternoon class is starting soon.”

  “Oh.”

  “Walk you back to your office?” What? “I mean—if you don’t mind the company?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Jason beams, way too satisfied with that answer than Nico can understand why.

  The walk back to their offices is a silent one—but it’s a nice silent and Nico realizes he appreciates the small gaps in their conversations.

  (Something that Will never did.)

  They get to Nico’s office door—which is at the other end of the hall, and Nico fidgets in place.

  “Well,” Jason says awkwardly. “Thanks for the company.”

  “You too.” Nico tucks his hands in his pockets—and remembers that his aviator’s jacket is heavy in his arm.

  Lupa stares at him enthusiastically, tongue out and tail wagging. She barks.

  “You too, Lupa.” A smile curls against Nico’s lips and he bends over to pet her on the head.

  “She likes you a lot.” Jason grins—looking especially satisfied. “And that’s hard.”

  I know that feeling, Nico thinks. “I could watch her, if you’d like.”

  “Really?”

  “Just until class is over.” He shrugs. “Otherwise she’s going to be alone in your office, right?”

  “Yeah.” Jason’s eyebrows furrow with worry. He looks down to Lupa—who in turn wags her tail at him, oblivious. “I mean—if you think you’re okay with it.”

  “Totally okay with it.”

  “Okay. Thanks—a lot, Nico.”

  “No problem.” Nico bites the inside of his mouth, trying not to smile and desperately failing.

  “Bye, girl.” Jason leans over—and looks awfully big as he scoops Lupa up and lets her lick his face. He grins—and Nico wrinkles his nose. “Take care of him, okay?”

  Another five minutes pass, with Jason blubbering to the dog and until Lupa looks like the one seeing Jason off like a proud owner. Nico rolls his eyes as Jason finally hands him the leash and leaves—after cheerily saying another thanks.  

  *

  A few minutes later, a student comes in. “Professor Di Angelo, I’d like to discuss the grade that I got on the last…”

  Nico stares at the girl as her eyes fall to Lupa. He tries his best not to glare at her—and fails. “Not a word about the dog.”

  She squeaks—and whatever she planned to say quickly flies out the window. “Um, okay.”

  Even though she redirects the subject back to their last homework assignment, Nico can see her eyes drifting back to the dog—with the occasional question of Where’s Professor Grace?

  He sighs when she finally leaves, and Lupa settles under the desk on top of Nico’s feet.

  “You like me, right?” Nico muses.

   Lupa looks up to him curiously, wags her tail, and chews on one of his shoelaces.

Jason’s touches don’t push past PG-13—he hikes Nico’s shirt unintentionally as he goes from resting his hand on Nico’s chest to running it up and down Nico’s abs, but he doesn’t try and venture any further than that. Instead, he chuckles under his breath, against Nico’s ear, and pushes his way onto Nico’s pillow. “You do realize living so close to campus is another reason why people think you’re a student.”

“As I recall, it’s the hoodie and Starbucks that trick people.” Nico yawns and turns his head in an awkward angle to stare at his boyfriend. “And then said people feel compelled to teach my class for thirty minutes and try to correct me when I say they’re in the wrong room.”

Bits of fuzz cover Jason’s angular jaw, his blond hair ruffled from sleep, and his blue eyes pristine and beautiful with the sun lighting them. A stupid smile curls against Jason’s lips, thoughtful and intimate like the sun rising at dawn. “Guilty as charged.”

“Your punishment,” Nico mumbles, “Get out of bed and leave me alone.”

Unfazed by Nico’s tactlessness, Jason only shrugs—which makes the mattress dip since he’s so big and causes Nico to wobble along with it. He chuckles softly, slipping his hand out of Nico’s shirt (proceeding to make a tiny yelp come out of Nico’s mouth in the process) and grabs his glasses off the nightstand. “Suit yourself.”

“Good,” Nico says, and he shuts his eyes again. The bed undulates as Jason slides off of it, and Nico goes back to sleeping.

Forty-five minutes later, he hears Jason come back into the apartment after a morning run and the shower kicking on. Nico wrinkles his nose, eyes still shut, and squeezes his legs together—wishing Jason had come back to bed instead.

With a defeated sigh, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and wanders out of bed.

Jason is just getting out of the shower when Nico walks into the bathroom. The latter takes a moment to watch his boyfriend—then Jason grins, wraps a towel around himself, puts shaving cream on his face, and presses a wet kiss to Nico’s cheek.

Rolling his eyes, Nico ties his hair up and wets his toothbrush.

They fall into a silence since Nico can’t function until he’s had at least two cups of coffee, and—while Jason is wide awake, he’s mindful of that and keeps anything above noisy under wraps in a smile.

Nico snorts when Jason leans forward against the mirror, too nearsighted to see himself. Jason squints, focused on the left side of his face.

As nonchalantly as possible, Nico tucks a nimble finger in the space between the towel and Jason’s hipbone, and continues brushing his teeth.

The electric razor stops momentarily, Jason side-eying Nico. The latter shrugs, spits, and works on his back teeth. Nico shoves his finger deeper between the towel and skin, making a tiny crevasse of space for wind to get through. Jason shivers.

Moments later, Nico takes the toothbrush out of his mouth and stares at Jason. Jason turns to face him, confused and curious.

“Um.”

“Mouthwash.” Nico nods his head towards Jason’s side of the sink.

“Oh. Uh—yeah.” Jason clumsily knocks the cap off before muttering an apology under his breath. He takes the mouthwash and sets it carefully in front of Nico with a tiny plop. “There.”

“Thanks,” Nico says. He makes one swift jerk with his hand and drops the towel.

*

“Fuck,” Jason mumbles. He spreads his legs wider, the towel forgotten near Nico’s laundry basket, and holds Nico’s head in place. He leans back against the toilet seat, red glowing in his cheeks. His mouth falls, jaw unhinged, and he lets out a breathy moan.

Nico hums around the head of Jason’s cock, one hand gripping the erection in front of him firmly while the other one keeps Jason’s thighs parted. The air is hot, still murky from Jason’s earlier shower. He takes a moment to be thankful that his hair is tied back, otherwise it’d be glued to his face and cheeks and neck and make him itchy.

With careful movement, Nico unsheathes Jason’s cock from his mouth, moves his hand from the base of the appendage to Jason’s balls, and he gladly licks where his fingers glide. “Careful, Mister Grace. I don’t condone bad language in my class.”

Jason chuckles airily, the back of his head touching the wall. He taps his foot, clearly trying to channel his excitement, and his red erection seems to swell a little bigger. “My apologies, Professor Di Angelo. What’s the punishment?”

Instead of responding, Nico gives Jason a playful, poignant look, and gives one of Jason’s balls a good suck. Jason moans, easily played as ever in Nico’s hands, and his cock twitches.

“What if I say it in Latin?” Jason muses. He shudders as Nico sucks on the other ball and gives his cock a wet tug. “Oh, god…”

Nico snorts. “You trust yourself not to have a Freudian slip in class?”

“Who’s the one with the professor kink?” Jason muses, his voice dropping three octaves low and making Nico’s own erection swell in his boxers.

“Both of us.”

“Fair point.”

Rolling his eyes, Nico pulls away from Jason’s erection to kiss Jason on the lips, and finds a more comfortable position to crouch on his knees. He puts Jason’s length back in his mouth and relishes the way Jason’s breath suddenly hitches.

Fondling Jason’s balls in one hand, Nico muses the thought of acting out the lap dance for a higher grade fantasy and decides to bring that up when they go to Jason’s apartment tonight, with the much comfier and bigger leather office chair.

“Fuck, Nico,” Jason hisses. His cock touches the back of Nico’s mouth, and Nico changes position carefully to go down on his boyfriend. “Oh—oh, gods, Nico, fuck—”

Nico shoots a look at Jason—the, ‘Are you serious?’ look he’d flash earlier on when they were first getting to know each other, and hopes in bed—or in their case, on toilet seat—it translates to, ‘What did I just say?’

But Jason is too preoccupied with the mouth wrapped around his cock—the one that is pulsing, throbbing, and happy where it is. He bucks his hips, hands squeezing Nico’s shoulders so tightly that the latter knows they’ll bruise later. “Oh, Nico—god, you feel so good, you’re so…Nico—”

Nico, using his tongue to slick the base of Jason’s cock, stops when he hears the pause in Jason’s tone. Not the, fuck I’m going to cum soon pause, but a genuine, poorly timed pause with a bonus of confusion.

“Nico—ah—your cat’s…w-watching.”

“Mm?” Nico asks around Jason’s erection—who contorts and moans a, ‘shit’ under Jason’s breath. Detaching himself from Jason, Nico turns to where Jason is facing.

Sure enough, Hades is perched on the sink, watching them expectantly.

“Um,” Jason says in the same way he did before they proceeded to bathroom oral.

“Hades,” Nico says. He stretches his jaw, realizing it’s a little stiff. “Scram.”

As much as Nico loves his cat, Hades is about as obedient as—well, Nico is. The old cat just stares at them, perfectly content on the edge of the sink like a king to a throne.

Fucking bastard.

“Meow,” Hades mewls, unfazed by the steam and smell of sex. It’s a hungry meow, but the damn thing knows Nico keeps his food bowl in the kitchen, and Jason always feeds Hades first thing before leaving to work out in the mornings. So—Hades is just being a pig, and Nico isn’t going to satisfy him.

“Ignore him,” Nico says. He pumps Jason’s cock, who gasps, but doesn’t move. “What?”

“It’s just…” Jason twitches, a grimace on his face that has Ruined Orgasm written all over it. “Your cat.”

Nico wrinkles his nose, unsure what to say to that. Then he remembers Jason is the same way with his dogs. Sex at Jason’s apartment is next to impossible when all three of his dogs toddle after him like he’s Mother Goose. “Well he’s not going to leave.”

To demonstrate, Nico gently pushes Hades off the sink—who yowls before jumping back to his spot.

“Do you want to stop?” Nico asks seriously—which is very hard to pull off when he has Jason’s hard erection in his hand.

“No,” Jason squeaks—and he keeps his eyes on Hades. They stare at each other.

“Do you want to move?” Which Nico doesn’t mind doing. He leans over to check the clock and—sure enough, they still have a good hour and a half before their first classes start.

“No—I mean, I was close.” Jason sounds way too embarrassed for a man in his early thirties.

“Then deal with it.” Without warning, Nico plunges back onto Jason’s dick. He hears a gasp—feels Jason rock his hips in accordance—and squeezes Jason’s leg so hard that when he runs a thumb over it, he feels tiny crescent marks against Jason’s knee.

Jason wasn’t kidding when he said he was close. He moans so loud that it echoes against the bathroom tiles and grips with shaky hands for leverage, mumbling Godyesgodyesgdyes and NicoNicoNico over and over under his breath.

Instead of prolonging it like he planned, Nico bobs his head over Jason’s cock and gives it one hard suck. Jason moans again, his body tightening until his toes curl too, and his hands fly from Nico’s shoulders to his head.

“Fuck,” Jason growls—“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He comes hastily, cock convulsing in Nico’s mouth. Nico pulls away in time before he can get a mouth full of semen—and it splatters everywhere—in his face, on his tongue, and on Jason’s own belly.

It slides down Jason’s stomach, sliding into indents and making small rivulets down his abdomen. Jason’s face glows with sanguine, and his chest glistens with sweat as he pants.

A lazy grin curls against his lips, satisfied.

Nico swallows the bit of cum in his mouth, wrinkles his nose, and jerks his head to Hades. “Now was that so bad?”

The grin drops for a moment, post-orgasm Jason turning slowly to face the cat. He grimaces again. “I’m sure this violates animal abuse in some way.”

“I promise you that we’re never going to have a threesome with my cat.”

“Oh, thank god.”

At the word threesome, Hades takes it as his cue to leave—apparently sharing Nico’s sentiment on the subject matter.

Jason laughs softly and shakes his head. “Well, so much for my shower.”

“Mm.” Humming in agreement about brushing his teeth, Nico smears the cum on his cheek and looks at Jason. He smirks.

Blue eyes look back to him, slowly coming back to focus, and a blond eyebrow arches in the air. “What?”

“Cats hate water.” Nico chucks off his shirt and boxers. He flips the shower knob and stares at Jason expectantly.  

Of course, Nico’s scowl only gets deeper. “You’re missing the point.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jason repeats, “I wasn’t aware that I had children.”

  “Your class. Whatever students of mine that are also yours.” Nico taps his foot into the ground, seething—and while Jason thinks he probably shouldn’t push his luck, he’s still a bit disoriented from Nico’s unceremonious entrance and irate expression.

  “So…our kids.”

  If it wasn’t for the no-bullying policy, Jason’s certain Nico would smack him. Nico’s demeanor shifts, looking ready to kill Jason—but he reels whatever aggression he has back in and sighs. “Did you catch the last part of that?”

  “The part where we’re dating,” Jason confirms. “Er—not dating, I mean.”

  “And what do you intend to do about it?” Nico seethes. He stands firm, feet planted to the ground and arms crossed.

  “I…ask you on a real date?” The response comes out as a question directed towards himself than to Nico. Jason would smack himself if he wasn’t already in a tricky situation—he’s never been good at asking people out.

  Besides—the way Nico’s scowl only manages to get bigger tells Jason that Nico wouldn’t be interested in the prospect of dating anyway. Nico facepalms—legitimately smacking his forehead with his own hand. “I’m sure your wife wouldn’t be too happy with that, Professor Grace.”

  If Jason was still eating his sandwich, he’d be choking. Instead, he guffaws on his own spit and his jaw drops. “My what?”

  Nico pauses. His irritation comes to a direct halt and he looks confused instead. Then cutely reluctant. “Don’t you have a wife?”

  He points to a picture on Jason’s desk, and Jason bursts into laughter.

  “Oh my god, no—that’s my sister.” Jason heaves, clutching his ribs after they start aching from laughing.

  On cue, Lupa awakens from the crate under Jason’s desk. She yawns cutely and stretches, then paws Jason’s shin. He scoops her up in one arm and cradles her gently as she turns around and barks excitedly at Nico.

  “This,” he says, “is Lupa. She’s the closest thing that I have to a girlfriend right now.”

  Nico stares. And stares.

  “We’re very personal,” Jason continues, and grins as Lupa licks his face. “I watch her go potty and vice versa.”

  “You did not just say the word ‘potty.’”

  Jason shrugs. He smiles, eyebrows up excitedly in a way that mimics Lupa’s own cheeriness.

  Again, Nico only stares at Jason, like the latter’s grown a second head. His cheeks are a little pink—embarrassed, maybe, from the wife accusation—and his shoulders lax. “That’s the dog in the picture you sent me a few weeks ago.”

  “She’s doing better,” Jason assures. “But she gets separation anxiety when I’m gone too long. I’ve been spending my breaks with her.”

  “Oh,” Nico says dumbly. Cutely, despite being a professor of twenty-nine. His mouth twitches, expression still as far away as you can get from happy and amused. “It’s very unprofessional to be sending your colleagues pictures of your dog.”

   “Oh—here then—here’s my number.” Jason sets Lupa down and scribbles his name and number on a free slip of paper. He rips it—before realizing that the free slip was actually part of a term paper he was grading.

  Nico notices immediately. He snorts. “You should probably be more cautious of who you give your phone number to.”

  “Could be worse. I could’ve put it on my syllabus.” Jason waves the paper around and grins. “Keep it. You know—for emergencies and stuff.”

  “Emergencies.” Nico twitches. “Like your dog.”

  “Like my dog,” Jason echoes in agreement.

  Lupa happily trots over to Nico and plants herself in front of him. Her tail wags back and forth and she barks. Nico look reluctant before getting down on one knee and petting her.

  He looks a little embarrassed, but no more quiet than usual. Jason thinks Nico must’ve gotten himself worked up to yell at Jason for being a pseudo-couple in the eyes of their students—which quickly deflated after Thalia was mentioned.

  (Gee—even when she’s on the other side of the country, Thalia still manages to cockblock him.)

  “So, uh.” Jason taps his hand against the table and tugs on the collar of his shirt. “I have to take Lupa out on a walk so she can stretch her legs. Do you wanna get some coffee at the union afterwards?”

  He waits, heart pounding in his chest. Nico stares back at him, arms crossed over his chest. He says nothing at first. Then, “It’s also unprofessional to go out with a colleague outside of a formal work setting.”

  Jason’s heart sinks. “Oh.”

  “Let me grab my coat.”

  “What? Really?”

  A smile curls against Nico’s lips. He leaves and exits out the door towards his own office.

  Lupa happily scampers after him.

  *

  “So you’re not married,” Nico asks him once they start their walk. It’s a little muggy—the campus is damp from three consecutive days of rain, and with October ending, it’s becoming chillier.

  Jason thinks he likes it better than San Francisco. He likes to sit by the window on days like these and just fall asleep, curled up with his dogs. “No—but my stepmom’s been getting on my case about settling down soon and starting a family. I keep telling her that I’m not ready.”

  They stop, so Lupa can tinkle on the school fountain and lick a nearby puddle.

  Nico stuffs his hands in his pockets and arches an eyebrow. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Having a life-long companionship with someone who knows me inside and out versus the bountiful amount of the colleagues’ daughters that she’d like to set me up with,” Jason jokes without missing a beat. He chuckles softly under his breath and shakes his head. “And I haven’t found the right person yet.”

  “Person?” Nico repeats, though Jason realizes Nico isn’t purposefully clinging to the word. It’s genuine curiosity.

  “She’d rather that any kids I have are blood-related and I settle down with a girl,” Jason explains. “But if I end up meeting a nice guy and he wants to adopt, I’m okay with that being the option too.”

  He doesn’t miss the way Nico perks at the explanation and holds his breath as he tries to read it. Nico’s eyebrows are up behind his bangs, but he doesn’t look…grossed out.

  “Ah,” Nico mumbles instead, “that’s…really cool of you.”

  “Yeah.” Jason sighs in relief. “What about you? Any plans of settling down?”

  The question comes at the risk of getting shot. Jason once asked Reyna the best way to talk to Nico, and she’d informed him that he was a very private person. If Nico was willing to talk to you outside of class, then you were definitely in his good graces.

  That being said, Nico’s expression twists, like he’s unsure of whether or not he wants to divulge an answer. He shrugs. “I…dated one of the professors in the medical college for a while. He…wanted to settle down as soon as we could and get married and start a family. I…uh. I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be.” Nico’s lips tighten into a flat line. He doesn’t expand upon that, but Jason regrets asking. He can tell it must be a sore subject.

  “He clearly wasn’t the right guy if he didn’t want to wait,” Jason says soothingly. He moves to put a hand on Nico’s shoulder and the latter smoothly slides away.

  “I don’t like people touching me very much,” Nico explains. He looks nervous, and Jason feels worse for bringing it up. “But you’re right. Thank you. If…I couldn’t say yes to him at the prospect of getting married, then I wouldn’t be able to say yes to him at the altar.”

  “Would you ever get married now?” Jason asks before he can help himself. “In the future, I mean?”

  Nico looks a little annoyed at Jason’s pressing, but answers anyway. “Maybe. If…it was the right guy.”

  “Then I hope you find him soon.” Jason means it as sincerely as possible. He keeps himself from saying, I hope it’s me.

  “Thank you.” Nico doesn’t look any less uncomfortable, but seems genuinely touched by Jason’s words. He smiles awkwardly, lips curling gently as he looks up to Jason. His skin is pale, blending into the dreariness of the weather, but flushed with sanguine in his cheeks.

  Jason can’t help but like that red glow (and worry if Nico’s eating enough.)

  “There’s the union,” he says, surprised he isn’t tripping over his own words.

  “Oh,” Nico says, surprised. “Yeah.”

  Several students nod their heads eagerly, while others busy themselves on their phones.

  “So you’re telling me that if I asked any one of you questions right now, you’d get them right?”

  Some students nod.

  “Okay…what sparked the Hundred Years War? Yes—you, in the third row with the yellow shirt.”

  “A…dispute over who would become King of France?”

  “Good. And why was it a dispute…? Okay—you, sir, in the back row with the hoodie.”

  “Because King Charles IV died.”

  “Good. Now—someone name one of the three major things that England and France fought over. Yes—you, front row?”

  “Oh! Um, this is actually a question, Professor Di Angelo.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  The girl in Nico’s front row leans over the desk. She looks over her shoulder towards the very back—though who she’s looking for, Nico can’t tell. “Is Professor Grace sick?”

  Nico blinks. He frowns, puzzled at the question, but not annoyed for the sudden shift in subject. “I wouldn’t know. Is he?”

  “He cancelled class today,” explains a girl in the row second to last. Nico recognizes her from the few times he snuck into Jason’s class. She’s usually on her laptop in his and Jason’s class, but suddenly looks very interested in the conversation.

  So do some of the texters.

  “He didn’t specify why—just that he’d be gone and to read through the text book,” says another girl in the third row. “He seemed under the weather the other day in class, though.”

  “It didn’t get worse since then, did it?” says a boy right next to her. He flashes a look directly at a startled Nico, looking very concerned and invested.

  “I…wouldn’t know,” Nico repeats. He stuffs his hands in his hoodie and shrugs. “But it’s probably only for today. I hear that a bug is going around.”

  Fortunately, Nico’s never called in sick. Hazel always gets on his case for eating so little or sleeping a minimum amount, but Nico does the minimum of what he needs to function. There are times where he goes on spouts of eating—which are rare. He always paces his lectures well, so once in a while Nico purposefully takes a sick day so his students can take a break.

  “But…don’t you two live together?” pipes in one student, who—

  Wait a minute. If Nico had been eating something at that moment, he’d be choking. “What?”

  “Well it can’t be that bad if Professor Di Angelo thinks it’s okay to teach today,” says a student from across the room. “Unless they had a fight.”

  What?

  “Aw—but I like Professor Grace.” The same girl from the first row flashes Nico puppy dog eyes. “Please don’t break up with him, Professor Di Angelo—he might assign extra Latin homework.”

  “I—” What? Nico—whose brain is having a hard time processing any of this—stumbles backwards into the desk, cheeks ablaze. “You—you think we’re—what?”

  “That you two are having a fight?” says another student. He grimaces. “That must’ve been a really bad fight considering he isn’t even waiting for you today.”

  “Waiting for me?” Nico sputters, his mind still climbing out of shock. His face is so red that he can feel his ears burning. “On what planet do you think Professor Grace and I are—are dating?”

  “This one,” says the same student.

  Nico needs a drink. He ruffles a hand through his own hair, flustered, and shakes it immediately. “We’re not—he and I aren’t—Professor Grace and I are just—”  

  One deep breath.

  Two deep breaths.

  Three deep breaths.

  “We’re not dating,” Nico says slowly, though his heart is now pounding in his chest. His voice totally cracks. “And I don’t—we do not discuss my personal life in the classroom. Understood?”

  He tries not to scowl because Nico’s convinced it’s just a twisted delusion or honest accident. Nico hates discussing his personal life—especially his love life. Though in the past, his students have never understood that.

  The class nods solemnly, thankfully putting the subject to rest.

  Then a lone hand shoots into the air.

  “Yes?” Nico addresses.

  “Professor Grace totally likes you,” the student says, and Nico’s ears go back to burning. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be giving you all of those goofy stares and walking you out of class to your car, or hanging out in your office.”

  “Professor Grace hangs out in Professor Di Angelo’s office?” one student cocks his head to the back, looking amazed.

  The first student nods.

  “Or the other way around,” says another student in the far corner. “You two are, like, up to something.”

  Nico massages his temples, trying to steer an incoming headache away. “What did I just say?”

  “But we’re not talking about your personal life, sir!” shouts one student in the back. “We’re talking about Professor Grace’s!”

  Oh, for the love of—

  Waving his hands around, Nico gives up. “Class dismissed. Please, just—dismissed.”

  *

  Once the students are out of Nico’s hair, he walks back to the history building to pick up anything from his office that will go home with him for the night.

  First midterms are next week, which Nico can’t believe. It’s already been three weeks since school began, and the days are already melding together.

  Fortunately all of his classes are where they need to be this far into the term, so he isn’t stressing about cramming any more information than needed into them. Despite how forward in personality all of his classes are, he can’t deny that they’re a good bunch that he likes to teach.

  He sets his briefcase on his desk and pulls papers out of drawers before throwing them into a folder and shoving them in his backpack. It isn’t that Nico can’t wear a backpack to his classes—but he’s been mistaken for a college student way too many times. Some students have actually hit on him—which is an experience Nico refuses to relive.

  Nico hesitates in packing his laptop.

  His class’s concern comes back to him, and he wonders if Jason really is sick. As attractive as Nico thinks Jason is, Nico has no clue how anyone could mistake them as a couple.

  (Jason is attractive and sweet, but Nico’s awkward and…awkward. They’d be the dichotomy to the perfect couple.)

  On one hand, Nico has some misplaced anger at Jason because how dare his class think that they’re a couple.

  On the other, Jason’s new with very few friends on campus, and Nico is concerned about Jason’s health. Nico knows Jason is good friends with Professor Valdez from the Engineering Department and Professor McLean from English—and then there’s him.

  Nico doesn’t know Valdez or McLean very well, so he can’t go up to them and ask about Jason’s condition. He doesn’t have Jason’s number either—which would be ridiculous in the first place because Jason is probably straight with two or three kids and a beautiful wife and, wow, Nico needs to remember it’s okay if they have each other’s number because it’d be nothing more than two colleagues exchanging information and—

  —and he sighs before pulling a chair beneath him, turning on the computer, and quickly jotting down an email.

  Jason,

  Some of the students in my class today were worried about your health. I don’t know what your email to them said, but please take care of yourself.

  - Nico di Angelo

  He waits a few moments before sending the email before he can regret it.

  Not even five minutes later, while Nico is tidying up his office, he gets a response:

  Wow, thanks for caring, Nico! Don’t worry. My dog had some stomach pains and I had to take her to the vet last minute. Everything’s okay though.

Attached to the email is a picture file.

  When Nico opens it, he sees a  picture of Jason laying on a couch—glasses over his head—and a small golden retriever fast asleep on his stomach. Jason is smiling—looking relieved by the tiny thing on him, and light catches in his eyes.

  Which are blue, apparently.

  Nico’s chest twists in stupid knots.

  Thanks for caring, he rereads.

  Your students think we’re dating, he thinks. Nico groans and rubs his temples.

Someone laughs, and that eases Jason’s nerves a little more. He grins, takes off his blazer, and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. “Hello class—welcome to the first day of school.”

  Murmurs circulate through the auditorium. Some students get up to leave, most likely in the wrong class, while the majority of students stare blankly at him.

  He grins a little, and pulls out a copy of his syllabus. He didn’t have time to send a mass email this morning or even put it on his thumb drive, but Jason doubts they’d look at it anyway. “Now, I know that this is a freshman level course, so not very many of you are familiar with the campus. You’re not alone—this is my first year teaching at Olympus University, too. Hopefully none of you are taking this as a blow off class.”

  More students snicker, but Jason’s been teaching for three years now, so he knows all of the classroom stereotypes. The texters, the brown-nosers, the diligent students, the nappers, the gamers, and—the occasional pervert.

  “This will be a hard class. I guarantee that you’ll be happy with what you’ve learned by the end of the term.” Jason flips through his syllabus and leans against the desk. “And if you fail, it means that I’ve failed.”

  He reads off from his notes, telling them how he used to teach in San Francisco before moving to New York after the last professor went crazy and talked about wanting to rule the world through young minds and create armies.

  The lesson plan is next—Jason tells them he expects them to write a paper after every unit to discuss what they’ve learned—and depending on the paper, he reads them all and addresses what concepts each individual student is struggling with.

  “I know there has got to be over 150 of you, but I promise you that I try to read every paper that I get, so my TAs aren’t stuck with all the work,” Jason assures.

  About twenty minutes later, the doors open at the very top and a student walks in. His face is covered in black smears, hair askew, and the suitcase in hand looks heavy.

  He doesn’t take a seat immediately.

  Instead, as Jason continues reading from the syllabus, the student stands there—staring at him. Frowning. Some students in the back turn to look at him, which is when Jason starts getting annoyed.

  “Would you like to take a seat so you aren’t distracting the rest of the class,” Jason asks, “Mister…?”

  “Di Angelo,” the student says with deadpan, which Jason immediately decides he doesn’t like. “Dr. Di Angelo.”

  Whispers fill the hall, students flipping through papers on their desk.

  “And I suppose you have business in Latin 1120?” Jason muses. He crosses his arms and leans against the desk. For amusement’s sake, he decides to entertain the student. “Doctor?”

  “I don’t,” Di Angelo says simply. “Considering you’ve been teaching my European History class for the past twenty-five minutes.”

  Wait.

  What.

  The whispers get louder.

  “You want me to believe that you’ve actually got your PhD?” Jason supposes the guy could pass for twenty-two at best, but not even his smartest colleagues have gotten their PhD. Yet. He doesn’t mean to corner Di Angelo, but Jason doesn’t take kindly to people distracting his class.

  A hand in the front shoots up in the air. “Um, Professor…?”

  “Yes?” Jason asks.

  “Are you…saying this isn’t History 2102?” The student flips through papers that Jason definitely did not give her. “The syllabus says it’s…supposed to be taught by Professor Di Angelo in this room.”

  “Present,” Di Angelo says. He raises his hand and gives a mocking salute.

  A symphony of murmurs in accordance, and Jason’s frown melts off his face.

  At the top of the staircase, Doctor Di Angelofiles down, his lips in a flat line and gaze tired. He still looks young under all of the grease on his face, but doesn’t look mad. Amused, maybe.

  Which only makes Jason turn red.

  “Sorry I’m late, class. I’m assuming most of you got my email saying I’d be running late due to car troubles. For those of you who’re here, you’ll get five extra credit points.” Di Angelo places his briefcase on the desk and walks up to the first row. “Does anyone have notebook paper to take names?”

  Jason flushes an even darker shade of red, not quite sure what to do. “I…thought this was ATH130.”

  Di Angelo turns around, this time a glimmer of amusement shining in his dark eyes. He arches an eyebrow. “This is ATH103. ATH130 is on the east side of the building.”

  Crap.

  “You must be the new professor for the history department.” Nico wipes his grimy hand on his jean pocket and extends it. “I’m Nico di Angelo. You can call me Nico.”

  Jason shakes it, still dumbfounded.

  Then that twinkle in Nico’s eye becomes a little brighter. The corner of his lip curls into a slight smile. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

  Oh. “Fuck—” Jason inspects his wristwatch, grabs his briefcase, and darts out of the room before anyone can laugh.

*

  As soon as he left ATH103, someone in the hallway dropped scalding hot coffee on his pants. Jason doesn’t have enough time to go home and change pants during his office hours, but is at least able to get most of the stains out before he meets Piper for lunch.

  Piper laughs at him when they meet up in the student union. “Percy tells me that you went to the wrong classroom to teach and went on for half an hour before Di Angelo walked in.”

  “Not on purpose.” Jason fumbles in his seat, pants still a little damp. “You know how bad that guy is with directions? I nearly parked my car into a pool because of him.”

  “You could have asked me.”

  “I tried calling you—neither you nor Leo get up before 11AM.” Despite the series of unfortunate events, Jason thinks he likes the OU better than the last university that he worked at. He’s got three classes that he teaches: one Intro to Latin class in the morning—which he missed a grand total of forty-five minutes of, the afternoon class—which he’s determined to not miss, and an Honors Latin class tomorrow—first thing in the morning.

  Jason sent a mass formal apology to his morning class, explaining that he was a new professor that got lost around campus.

  (He left out the part where he taught someone else’s class by accident and definitely left out the part where someone spilled coffee on his crotch.)

  “How’d you hear about that anyway? I haven’t told anyone.” Jason clears his throat and sinks his teeth into his apple. “Not unless that professor told Percy.”

  “You know how Percy is. Di Angelo is in the history department, too.” Piper hums. “He’s pretty nice. Good at what he does. He stole some of my students last semester, so I snuck into his class to see why people liked it so much. He’s a good professor, he just doesn’t know how to socialize outside of class.”

  “He seemed to think my making an ass out of myself was funny,” Jason mumbles.

  “To be fair, you don’t make an ass out of yourself very often.” Piper finishes off her veggie burger. “That’s why Leo and I treasure the moments where you’re just all ass.”

  Jason nearly chokes on his Gatorade. “You’ve been hanging out with Jackson too much.”

  “Same department,” Piper points out. “And if we weren’t such good friends, then I never could’ve convinced him to give you that interview.”

  “Yeah, because my credentials aren’t enough.” Jason rolls his eyes, pretending to look offended—but can’t help smiling. “Thank you for that. For the job, I mean.”

  Piper’s grin wanes into a smile and she squeezes Jason’s hand gingerly. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “Me too.” Jason nods his head towards Piper’s belly. “So—when are you going to tell Leo that you’re expecting?”

  She rolls her eyes. “When he stops setting university buildings on fire.”

  *

  An hour before his next class, Jason returns to his office in the history building. It’s still barren of decorations—Jason didn’t take a lot with him when he left San Francisco. He keeps a picture of Thalia and him on his desk, along with some trophies won from when he was in high school and in college. Another picture of Leo, Piper, and him hangs on the wall beside the window.

  Jason emails the class syllabus to everyone in his afternoon class and scans his room for the perfect place to store extra clean pants.

  A knock on his door pulls Jason out of his thoughts. He opens it. “Oh—hi.”

  “Hi.” Professor Di Angelo stands at the opposite end of the threshold, looking like he’s unsure what to do with himself. He proceeds to shove something in Jason’s arms. “You left your jacket in the room this morning.”

    “I—oh, I did.” Jason inspects it, and sure enough, it’s his jacket. His cheeks blaze red and he throws it across his desk, not even bothering to turn around.

  The same familiar glimmer from this morning flashes in Di Angelo’s eyes. Di Angelo can’t be taller than 5’9”—he still looks like an undergrad, but his demeanor definitely screams college professor. He doesn’t smile, but seems amused by Jason’s…awkward behavior. “You left in such a hurry. My students were a bit concerned about you.”

  “Sorry,” Jason says almost instinctively. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “Did you figure out where your class was?”

  “Yes. Sorry—again. I didn’t mean to mistake you for a student.”

  Di Angelo waves his hand dismissively, clearly not caring. “I get it often enough. Your reaction wasn’t as bad as Jackson’s.”

  The quip makes both of them smile a little bit. Jason looks up, scanning Di Angelo’s face—which still has a bit of grime on it. “How’s your car?”

  “Dying.” Di Angelo snorts and rolls his eyes. “You don’t really think I’d be thirty minutes late to class on purpose, do you?”

  “You could’ve just been like me,” Jason points out. “You know—wrong room and such.”

  “Did you have to cancel class?”

  “I—well—yes, basically.” Jason doesn’t want to get into it any more than that. He nervously pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose—then digs into his pocket for a handkerchief. “Here.”

  “You keep one of these in your pocket?” A dark eyebrow arches in the air. Di Angelo inspects it.

  “I just think you look nice under all of that grime.” Jason’s mind backtracks and he cringes. When he looks back up, he realizes Di Angelo looks a little red—which makes Jason feel like a total moron. “Sorry—I—sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Di Angelo mumbles. He shuffles between his feet, now unable to look Jason in the eye, but manages to extend a hand again. “We didn’t get a formal introduction before. I’m Nico di Angelo. I teach European History here.”

  “Jason Grace. I teach Latin.” Jason discreetly wipes the sweat off his palm and shakes Di Angelo’s hand. “You can just call me Jason.”

  “Jason, huh? Nico, then.”

  They fall into an uncomfortable silence.

  “Can you…tell me where your afternoon class is so I don’t end up teaching it by accident?” Jason’s heart skips a beat—and he has to pretend he isn’t relieved when Nico starts smirking.

  “I dunno. I think I liked the entertainment after such a hard morning.”

  “Glad to be of service then.” Jason tips an imaginary hat, which only makes Nico chuckle.

  “Glad to have you in the department,” Nico says. He steps back behind the line to Jason’s office, and waves awkwardly. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  “Hopefully not in the wrong classroom.” Jason smiles weakly, and Nico grins.

  Then he leaves.

  *

  “Welcome to Latin 1120—” Jason inspects the auditorium to make sure he hasn’t lost anyone. “—my name is Professor Grace, and I’ll be teaching you this semester. Now, I know that this is a freshman level course…”

  The introductions—for the most part—go smoothly. At the twenty-five minute mark, Jason eyes the door, waiting for another professor to come in and claim the course. When that doesn’t happen, he decides it’s a personal victory.

  Then forty-five minutes into the class, the doors open.

  Nico stands there, at the very top.

  Jason stumbles over the next few words of his syllabus. They make eye contact, and Jason’s mind completely blanks.

  A smirk spreads across Nico’s lips, albeit small, and he takes a seat in the very back.

  “So, ahem—this is my grading policy…” Jason’s voice trails off, and he loosens his necktie.

  The course goes on—some students look over their shoulders to Nico, who seems genuinely interested as Jason explains his backstory. Jason wonders if there’s a lot of overlap between their lectures, and if some of the students also take Nico’s class. Latin has to have some relevance to European History, right?

  (And maybe some of them take Nico’s morning class and saw Jason make an ass out of himself this morning—because Jason definitely hears laughter and bets this morning’s events have made it completely around the grapevine.)

  When he’s done with his syllabus, the students all file out of the auditorium. Nico waits in his spot before he trots down the steps and meets Jason at the center.

  “Had to make it fair, didn’t you?” Jason jokes. “I interrupt your class, so you have to interrupt mine.”

  The edge of Nico’s lips curls into a smirk. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie—which is one of the eerie reminders of why Jason thought he was a college student in the first place. “Poking fun at another professor on your first day isn’t a good idea, Professor Grace.”

  “My apologies, Professor Di Angelo. I’ll refrain from poking in the future.” Jason arches a playful eyebrow and collects his things strewn across the desk.

  “I’ll hold you to that then.” Nico’s gaze narrows.

  A silence follows, like the one earlier in Jason’s office—but this one feels more comfortable.

  “Well,” Nico says, “I have class to teach.”

  “Oh?” Jason tries not to let his disappointment show.

  “Across the hall.” Nico points behind them, even though all is waiting for them is empty seats. “My class starts fifteen minutes.”

  “Then I promise I won’t interrupt it.”

  Nico rolls his eyes. “I assume  you know where the exit is?”

  “That I do.”

  “Alright then.” Nico nods his head towards Jason’s jacket, strewn nicely on the chair. “Don’t forget that.”

  Jason gathers it up, tucking it over his arm. He smiles kindly to Nico. “Again—pleasure meeting you, Nico.”

  “Likewise.” Nico eyes Jason, like he’s trying to assess Jason’s worth—but says nothing else. Instead, he bows his head and trots back up the stairs and out of the classroom.

  Once Nico leaves, Jason double checks the room for anything else he might’ve forgotten. He makes it to the building entrance, car key in hand since the parking lot is only a five minute walk from where he is now.

  Then stops.

  Piper has one more Native American Studies class to get through before her day is over, and Leo is busy in a workshop until 5:30PM. Jason’s still getting used to the layout of the town—and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving without his best friends with him.

  As he thinks about his plans, Jason unintentionally waltzes back to the entrance of his classroom. The building is quiet—some students linger in the halls on their laptops, undoubtedly assigned homework already, while others are catching up and discussing summer vacation.

  He’s about to make the impulsive decision to just leave and talk to Piper later—but catches an earful of Nico’s voice from across the hall, like Nico promised. Jason wrinkles his nose and bites back a smile. He slowly walks towards the doors and pulls on a handle.