Chapter 2: Obsessive Possession.

Damien.

The lectures hall smelled like old paper, Coffee and the faint bite of cedar from his cologne. It was empty and would be filled up in about two hours. Damien sat with one ankle crossed over his knee, phone to his ear, pretending to listen while his mother–Evelyn–talked about Thanksgiving, about the neighbor’s new baby, about how his cousin Elise had finally left that deadbeat husband.

Then she said, softer, “I want you happy Damien. You're thirty five. I'm not asking for grandchildren tomorrow, but I would like to meet someone who matters to you. I don't really a gender preference. Just… bring them home one day. Let me feed them, let me embarrass you infront of them. It's my right as your mother.”

He made a low, noncommittal sound. Yeah, relationship weren't exactly his thing. And neither were friendships, to be honest. He did contracts and safe words at The Black Orchid. Those always quelled his constant need to own, to claim and hurt, but he didn't do attachments. Those were expensive.

He'd rather have someone shattered open under his hands while they begged for more.

His cock filled instantly as he remembered his last encounter with a certain student who had begged. Lennon Kesler had slowly turned into an obsession that he didn't know how to quit. He wasn't sure he even wanted to quit.

His mind supplied an image with vicious clarity: Lennon on all fours on that hotel rug, spine arched, hips bruised with Damien's fingerprints, mouth open on a silent scream while Damien drove into him so deep.

His cock ached against the seam of his slacks. He shifted, jaw ticking. 

Two night. Two nights since he'd had Lennon blindfolded and sobbing and still it wasn't enough. He'd assumed one ruthless claiming would purge the obsession. It didn't. Instead it had gotten word.

Lennon occupied his every waking thought until all he could see, breathe and hear was him.

“Damien?”

“I’ll call you later, Mom.” His voice came out rougher than intended. He ended the call, tossed the phone onto the desk, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was still two hours before lecture. He could grade a few more papers, answer emails, or do anything resembling the controlled professor he was supposed to be. He was going to do that before a knock came. Who came to class around this time?

“Come in,” 

The door opened just wide enough for Lennon to slip in through sideways. 

Of course, it was Lennon, because why not bring in the bane of his existence and the object of his desires in this exact moment? 

Lennon shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a second, eyes on the floor, hoodie swallowing his frame. The sleeves were pulled over his hands. He was twisting the cuffs like worry beads. 

Lennon was not small or scrawny. He was quite handsome and was in shape.

Damien’s pulse kicked up.

Lennon was early. On another day, it wouldn't have anything been much of a surprise if he came an hour early. 

But judging by their last encounter, if someone told Damien that Lennon would miss today's class, he wouldn't doubt it. 

And then there was the fact that Lennon looked… wrong. Like he wanted to vanish. His mouth was pulled tight, the skin under his eyes bruised with exhaustion. There was a tremor in the way he held himself, like he was holding himself together with duct tape. 

Damien had never been one to comfort other people. Comfort was messy. It required softness that he didn't possess. Yet the sight of Lennon looking haunted lit something monstrous behind his sternum. And he wanted nothing more than to eliminate whatever had Lennon looking like that.

“I'm gonna ask you a question and I don't want you to lie to me. You are not allowed to lie to me.” Damien said.

Of course he could just let it go. Of course he could just mind his business. It wasn't his problem anyway. But that was the thing. He didn't want to just let it go.

Lennon swallowed hard then nodded his head.

“What's wrong? And I don't want any bullshit, tell me everything.”

Lennon let out a sigh, like he'd finally realized he didn't have any way to get out of this, which he didn't. 

“It's.. it's.” He dragged both hands through his hair, pushing the hood back. “My dad. He found some texts on my phone from Archer. There was nothing bad about it but because he knew that Archer was gay… he kinda lost it. Said if he ever found out I was into guys, he’d kill me himself. And I'm so fucking confused because I don't get why he's so homophobic about literally everything, and I'm actually pretty fucking scared because I think ylike guys too. No, I know I like guys.”

Damien felt something primal roar to life in his chest. Something about Lennon's dad saying he's going to kill him just didn't sit well with him.

Damien felt that Lennon had started babbling at this point and their was a way he looked at him, like he expected him to say something to make him feel better. This was why Damien didn't do emotional stuff. He didn't want to end up saying the wrong thing. How did people even do this?

He realized he'd escaped into his head now and Lennon was just... standing there now, the look in his eyes showed that he was really spooked.

Damien didn't think about his next move,

“Hey. Come here." He beaconed Lennon closer to the podium where he sat. He wished this was his office and not the lecture hall. He didn't want Lennon to feel any more uncomfortable than he already was.

Lennon walked forward on shaky legs until Damien caught his wrist and gently yanked. One tug and Lennon was between Damien's spread thighs, pulled down so their faces hovered inches apart. Damien didn't know where he was going with this but his dick seemed to be on board.

“Look at me," he ordered, voice low.

Lennon's eyes met his. 

“No one will ever lay a hand on you. Nothing is going to happen to you. You are allowed to be whoever you want to be and like anybody you want to. Your dad doesn't get to decide that for you. You are a not a kid anymore, stop letting him push you around. Listen I don't know how it is at your house but I'm pretty sure if you stand up for yourself, your dad won't have any other choice than to just let you be.”

Lennon's eyes filled with tear. “You don't get it, y..you don't know my dad. He can do literally anything because of his status and–”

“He's not gonna do shit! Not while I'm here." Damien growled. The idea of someone spooking Lennon this much really made him unhinged.

Another tear slid down Lennon's cheek, he opened his mouth to say something else like ask Damien what he meant, but before he could Damian pulled him closer by his hoodie and crashed their mouths together. To shut Lennon up, of course, definitely not because he wanted to taste him again.

Lennon made a soft, wounded sound that punched straight through Damian's chest and settled on his dick.

Then Lennon melted into the kiss and made a softer sound, like a moan. Damien loved that sound a bit too much. He swallowed it all down and kissed Lennon harder, tongue thrusting deep, teeth scraping, swallowing every gasp and whimper. He wished he could swallow up all of Lennon's fears too.

Damien wanted to stop. Literally anyone could walk in at this moment. This was dangerous. He didn't even like the idea of kissing before now. But he just couldn't get himself to pull away.

He decided right then that he was going to fuck Lennon again. Soon.

But that would be a later thing, right then it felt like Lennon would bolt and run if he pulled away.

He decided it right then.

He didn't expect it, but Lennon pulled away first and stared deep into his eyes.

“I need a favor, sir.” Lennon said, almost in a whisper, “I want you to fuck me."