Uh don't know where this idea came from??

In which Remington is a student at university and Andy is a lecturer. (Remington is NOT underage, he's 20, Andy is 30, and yes ik this isn't their actual age difference, just roll with it k thanks.)

Trigger warning, mentions of suicidal thoughts
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"Leith," comes the annoyingly attractive voice of Remington's annoyingly attractive and irritatingly strict English lecturer.

He turns around, about to leave the lecture hall, and says, "yeah? What is it?"

"Sit."

"I've got places to be."

The elder raises an eyebrow. "That's fine, I'll just fail you, then."

"You can't do that," Remington protests.

"I can if you don't sit."

"What're you gonna do? Make me suck you off for extra marks?" He folds his arms.

Andy sits on his desk. "Mm, don't put ideas like that in my head, I have a very...Visual mind."

Remington scoffs. "I could get you sued for that."

"You could." His expression stiffens. "Sit."

The younger does with a huff. "What?" He asks.

Andy folds his arms. "Drop the attitude."

"There ain't no attitude."

"Your short story," the man begins, "I'm very impressed."

"Great, thanks." He stands to leave.

"Not done."

"You know that just because you're hot doesn't mean I'm gonna do what you tell me, right?"

A smirk breaks onto Andy's face. "Just because you're pretty doesn't mean I'm gonna give you special treatment."

"I don't want special treatment, sir, I want to leave."

"The protagonist, why did you make him so sad?"

"You told us to write something we related to."

"I know what I said, thank you very much. What I want to know is why."

"Because I relate to him, because I did what you told me, because you're fit and I think about you naked."

Andy clears his throat.

"That was a joke, obviously," Remington adds quickly.

"Obviously."

"Can I go now?"

"Tell me in what ways you relate to him, Remington."

"In all the ways, sir."

"All the ways?" Andy says quietly, thoughtful. "And that doesn't worry you?"

"Why should it worry me?"

The man sighs. "Remington, you wrote ten thousand words about a man tying a noose. Tell me how you wouldn't be worried."

"It wasn't for hanging, it was for a rope swing."

Andy shakes his head. "It was a very beautiful piece of work, don't get me wrong. The best in the class. But I have a duty to check everything is okay when something like that is handed in, as I'm sure you can understand."

"I was doing what you wanted. You said write something I related to, using no dialogue. I did that."

"I understand writing is a way to express emotions as an outlet, but there comes a point when one gets concerned, Remington. When I read ten thousand words about someone tying a noose, my natural and normal response is to be concerned."

"I'm not gonna hang myself if that's what you're getting at."

The teacher frowns. "You're talented. You write beautifully and I've heard you sing and your voice is haunting, but you must understand that no matter the talent you have, if you're in a bad place, it's important to talk someone."

Remington slumps in the chair.

"It's okay if you are feeling the ways your character was, but you need to let someone know, okay?"

"What would you know?"

"I understand you don't want to talk to me about it and that's fine, but I need to know you'll talk to someone. Otherwise I'll have to contact someone in your family, and I'm sure you don't want me to do that."

"What's the bloody point of asking my to do something if you're gonna make a song and dance about it when I do it?"

Andy puts his elbows on his knees. "I asked you to do that because it's part of the curriculum. I expect students to be truthful with their writing and I know you have been, so thank you for that. And while it's fantastic you can write it down on such a gorgeous way, it would also be fantastic if you could assure me that you'll speak to somebody."

"Why do you care?"

"Remington, it's okay to be afraid of asking for help."

"Who said I was afraid and who said I needed help?"

Again, Andy sighs. "Your character expressed needing a 'safe place' away from his everyday life. Is that something you took from your own emotions?"

"You said to write something I related to."

"There's nothing wrong with it, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

"Not trying to make me uncomfortable? Says the guy who visualised me sucking his dick."

Andy furrows his brows. "I apologise for that, but it doesn't change the fact that you wrote effectively about yourself tying a noose and wishing for a 'safe place'."

"Everyone wants a safe place."

"Sure, but that doesn't make it any less important."

"I want to leave now."

"You can, but please think about talking to somebody."

"If it bothers you that much, fine." He gets up. "Maybe."

"Remington-"

"It's not a big deal, alright? Yes, I wrote about trying a noose, and yes, I would very much like a safe place with no bloody judgement all the time, but no, I won't tell somebody, because what're they gonna do? Tell me to get therapy? Do that pitying thing people do where they apologise for the way I'm feeling? No bloody thanks."

"What would you want them to do?"

"I..." Remington looks at his feet.

Andy gets off the desk and sits on the floor with his legs crossed. "It's okay," he says.

"What're you..."

"I'm creating a safe place. What would you want them to do if you talked to them?"

Remington can't look at him. He didn't ever imagine Andy would have such thoughtful genes in him. "I don't know. Just...listen, I guess."

"We all need people to listen. Do you have anyone who might listen to you?"

"I have friends, obviously, but..."

"But you don't want them to know?"

Remington nods.

"That's understandable. It's sensitive information."

"What're you trying to say?"

"It's my job to look out for my students, Remington," Andy says, "but it's my instincts that tell me that if I don't do that for you, no one will."

Remington keeps his eyes on his feet. He doesn't want to admit how close to tears he is.

"I know I'm just your mean professor but please know that if you need somebody to listen, I won't judge. I can be your safe place."

"Is that...allowed?"

"Fuck the rules, this is more important. No one has any right getting you in trouble for asking for help. And if they do, I've got your back."

Remington sits on the floor opposite Andy. "Okay," he mumbles, "thanks."

Andy smiles.