I asked professor Senju to get tome time to think about whether I would join his project or not. Due to the nature of the project, he was incredibly understanding and told me to take as much time as I needed to think.

The week after he asked me to join his project, professor Senju went to a conference that would last two weeks.

Those two weeks really made me realise exactly how much I needed him.

The lectures with him were always on Mondays before lunch, and we always ended up fucking each other in his office afterwards. Some weeks, he would even text me on the weekend to let me know exactly how much he wanted me. But now, there would be a two-week gap, and it left me dying of thirst.

I didn't understand how I could've gone twenty-three years without it. The thought of just one week without him inside of me was almost unbearable, but the day before he came home from that conference when he'd been gone close to a fortnight, I was almost weakened of longing. I came home from the library where I had studied, panting. As I pulled my trousers down, my cock was wet.

And I did something I had never done before.

I took my phone out and called him.

"Izuna, I have a meeting, I'll call you-"

"Fuck me", I panted, and he immediately fell silent as he realised what I was doing. "Baby, I can't wait for you to come home tomorrow. Fuck me."

I could hear his soft breaths down the line. He had never sucked my dick before, but hearing those breaths made me long for his lips over my tip, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

"Excuse me", he said, and it took me a second to understand he was talking to the people in the meeting. Whoever had a meeting on a Saturday, anyway? "I'll be a minute."

I slid down the wall, grabbed myself, started beating.

"You listen to me, Izuna", he told me when he was alone.

"I'll do anything you say, professor."

He hissed.

"Izuna..." he groaned. "Don't speak to me like that when you're so far away. You'll drive me crazy."

"I would hate to drive you crazy, professor", I said.

"Now, listened to me. Stop masturbating."

"But-"

"Don't talk back to me", he interrupted. "I'll be home tomorrow. It's Sunday so the door to my apartment complex will be locked. You know the code and you have they key. You let yourself into my apartment at three pm. I want you already naked and stretched and ready to take me at four, when I come home. Do you understand me?"

My hand was trembling with desire to make myself come, but I forced myself not to.

"Yes", I breathed.

"Good", he said, and his voice softened. "Good boy."

"I miss you", I said.

"What are you wearing?" he asked.

"White shirt", I said.

"Fuuuck", he said.

"I had black trousers but I took them off when I came home."

"Where have you been?" he asked and I believed his voice hardened.

"In the library, studying."

"With whom?" professor Senju asked and I couldn't help but grin. Was he jealous?

"Oh, just a friend", I said casually. That wasn't true; I had been alone but I really liked teasing him.

Professor Senju hissed.

"I better step up my game to decrease the risk of you finding someone else", he said.

"What are you wearing?" I asked, ignoring him.

"Dark brown suit. Beige chinos. Light blue shirt."

I whistled.

"Can you fuck me wearing something like that tomorrow?" I asked.

"Anything for you", he said.

I knew that wasn't entirely true, but it made me happy to hear nonetheless.

"I need to get back to the meeting", professor Senju said. "I will need five minutes to cool down. You make me rock hard."

"Good", I said.

When we hung up, I was filled to the brim with excitement.

But also something else that had been nagging me in the back of my mind. And that was the research project I had now become part of. I was still excited about it, but having considered it, it didn't feel all that good anymore. 

On Sunday morning, I did meet up with someone.

I wasn't that close to my parents, which had made the university life feel like a safe haven, giving me the space I needed to be who I was without worrying about it. I was, however, very close to my brother Madara.

He was twelve years my senior, the same age as professor Senju, and running a flower shop in the city. It had honestly been the main reason why I moved here; the fact that the university was the best one in the country and even the world was only a bonus. I was so happy I could meet Madara every week as he provided a bearing pillar in a much-needed network of support that was strong, but small. I had asked him last evening if I could visit him in his flower shop today, figuring I would be a nervous mess up until three pm when I would go to professor Senju's place, and of course, he had been delighted. Madara loved it when I visited his flower shop, and I loved visiting it, so it was a win-win. 

Stepping into his shop was just like stepping into a green dream. It was full of citrus trees of varying sizes and fruit-bearing stages as well as beautiful assemblies and wreaths that Madara had made. It was getting close to Halloween, so there were a lot of apples, dried oranges, pumpkins, cinnamons and golden glitter among all tropical dark green and hot pink and bright orange that was always there. At the back of the shop was the desk loaded with beautiful pralines and cards, and behind that a fridge for a hundred types of cut flowers; roses of all different possible and impossible colours, hydrangeas, leaves, anything you could name. Madara was a big name in the wedding industry, and phenomenal at the care of citrus trees. He was a busy man.

When I came in, he was assembling a beautiful hydrangea bouquet, his long, thick, black hair loose around his grey cardigan. The lines of age was starting to show in the corners of his eyes and he also had lines beneath them, and I thought he became more and more handsome every year. I had waited for so long for him to find a partner which I thought he so much deserved until last year, when he told me that he was not only asexual but aromantic as well and was, and would always be, happier alone. He had many close friends, I knew, as opposed to me who only had a few.

He was the most precious thing in the world.

As soon as he saw me, his face broke out into a smile. He immediately put the bouquet down and came to hug me.

"I'm so happy to see you", I said, meaning it a little extra today.

"Same", he said. He wasn't much taller than I was, but his voice was much deeper. "You look fantastic."

"Thank you", I said, looking down on my olive green shirt and black trousers, wondering if professor Senju would like. I blushed when I realised I wouldn't find out since he'd asked me to be naked for him when he came home. 

"Now, tell me. What do you want?" he asked me.

"Oh, I really shouldn't, I mean, I can't- Okay." Madara smiled triumphantly. "A blue one. With dark greens."

"Blue with dark greens coming right up."

He always insisted on making me a bouquet when I visited, which made me feel terribly guilty, but he insisted, and he wouldn't let me pay for it in a million years. I always succumbed and tried to convince myself it was because deep down, I knew it made him happy while in reality, the reason, even if the former was true, was that I loved them so much.

He turned to the dreamy fridge and started choosing flowers; roses artificially dyed a deep blue were the base, and he added small light blue forget-me-nots and several dark leaves so that they bloomed intermingled with the blue in a cornucopia. I leaned my elbows on the counter meanwhile.

"Tell me", he said.

I sighed.

There was one other reason I wanted to meet him other than distraction. And of course, Madara noticed. 

"There's a professor", I begun.

"There's always a professor", Madara teased. Then, he stopped, looking at me. "It's not inappropriate, is it?" he asked.

"No!" I exclaimed before I had time to think. "Or, at least that was not what I came to talk about."

Madara looked down on the little bouquet he was making for me. It looked like heaven, the roses a deep, inky blue all through each petal, almost hidden in the dark green. I would put it in the fridge every night and cut the ends diagonally each morning to make it last for as long as possible, just like Madara had taught me. I looked up at Madara's face.

I decided not to mention anything about mine and professor Senju's relationship. I trusted Madara with everything, but something within me said I did not want to know what his thoughts about it were.

Instead, I told him what I had come to tell him.

"He want me to be part of his research group."

At this, Madara stopped and looked up.

"Loads of professors want you. What makes him so special?"

I frowned. Why was Madara so hesitant?

"He's the smartest one there. The only one I know smarter than him is you."

"Psh", Madara said.

I ignored him.

"And me, of course. And he's in artificial intelligence. The field where I belong."

"Then why don't you go for it?" Madara asked.

"Well..." I hesitated, then decided to go for a mild start. "He's the only one in his research group." Madara got a wrinkle in between his eyebrows I had never seen before. I decided that was an okay reaction, and that I could move on. "Also, his project..."

I told him.

And the further I got in my explanation, the more Madara's facial expression changed. What scared me wasn't that he didn't display disgust. What he displayed was beyond that; it was a deep, naked and raw shock. At least, he let me talk until I was finished. When I was finished, he put the bouquet down.

"You haven't accepted yet?" he asked.

"No", I said, and noticed Madara's shoulders slumped down in relief.

"Izuna..." he said, and there was something in the way he looked at me, something about his body language. It was as if he was trying to approach a wounded animal and that it was of uttermost importance that that animal didn't move. "Izuna, I support you in everything you chose to do. But as soon as you said there was a professor, I knew there was something wrong. If you tell me he's alone in his research group, that's a red flag. I'm a florist and even I know that." That, however, wasn't strictly true; he was more than a florist. "But this..." Madara looked so desperate then, it frightened me. "Not only do I think you should decline him. I think you should report him to the police."

"He has worked years to gain ethics for it. I can't report him."

"Then run. Izuna, run. Run away, far from him."

We were both so distracted, we forgot about my bouquet.

I walked away from Madara's flower shop empty-handed, confused, bumping into several people as I didn't see them in my distress.

But even so, my feet steered me to professor Senju's apartment complex, my fingers moving on their own accord to button in the code and then to open the door to his apartment. I was panting, my legs trembling, and when I went into the mirror and undressed, I was beside myself because of the insane intimacy of being in his apartment alone, waiting for him. I tried to forget everything Madara had told me, at least for now, and I moaned as I caressed my body, laid back on his bed, touched my sex, drooling, leaking. I had to work so, so hard not to come to keep Professor Senju satisfied when he saw me, and it worked splendidly to distract me from my previous conversation with my brother and the dilemma I was in. 

As four o clock came closer, I started trembling. And then finally, finally I heard his keys in the lock.

He found me sweaty, leaking, stretched, ready for him on my back with my legs splayed, completely naked, just the way he had asked.

And when I saw he was in a black suit and tie.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here", he said darkly.

He collected his hair in a low bun so it wouldn't be in the way when he fucked me.