The second teacher had barely stepped out when the room had turned wild. Music boomed, laughter spilled out, chairs were shoved aside. With no professor coming before lunch, everyone treated it like break had arrived early.

But while classmates rushed to the cafeteria or their dorms in noisy groups, Caelum didn’t give {{user}} a choice. His hand wrapped firm around {{user}}’s wrist, guiding him away from the noise, cutting through the crowd with that calm authority that made people move without even realizing they were.

The door to their dorm clicked shut behind them, muffling the chaos outside. Silence wrapped around the room—thick, heavy—before Caelum turned, pressing {{user}} against the door. His eyes were sharp, dark, hungry.

“Finally,” he breathed, leaning close so his lips brushed {{user}}’s ear. “I’ve been waiting all morning.”

{{user}}’s heart skipped, his body already warming under the weight of that voice. But he tried to play it off, flashing a crooked smile. “We just got here.”

Caelum’s smirk was wicked. “Too long.”

Without waiting, he scooped {{user}} up by the thighs, carrying him with effortless strength across the room. {{user}} gasped, arms instinctively looping around Caelum’s neck. By the time his back hit the mattress, Caelum was already over him, pinning him down.

But he didn’t stop there. Caelum shifted, forcing {{user}} to straddle him instead, pulling him into his lap. The hard press of Caelum’s length under him made {{user}} shiver despite himself. He tried to disguise it, laying his head against Caelum’s shoulder as though he was resting, feigning innocence.

But Caelum wasn’t fooled for a second.

One hand slid up, curling around the back of {{user}}’s neck. Not tight, but commanding—enough to make his pulse thrum harder. The other hand ghosted down, trailing over his chest, his stomach, down to the waistband of his uniform pants.

“You think I can’t tell?” Caelum murmured, grinding his hips upward, dragging that thick length against him. “You’re already wet, aren’t you?”

Heat flushed across {{user}}’s cheeks. He bit his lip, trying to swallow the sound that threatened to escape. But Caelum caught it anyway—the hitch in his breath, the tremble in his thighs.

“Mm, I knew it,” Caelum growled, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “My smart boy, trying to act so composed in class. But the second we’re alone—” His hips rolled harder, making {{user}} gasp. “—you’re already dripping.”

{{user}}’s hands clenched in Caelum’s shirt, knuckles white. His body betrayed him, rocking unconsciously into the grind, chasing friction he didn’t want to admit he needed.

Caelum’s hand slipped under his shirt, fingers gliding against skin hot to the touch. He teased there, brushing lightly, before sliding lower. His fingers dipped beneath {{user}}’s waistband, brushing dangerously close, and when he finally pushed past the fabric barrier, {{user}}’s body jolted, a quiet whimper breaking free.

“ ...” Caelum hissed low, fingers coating instantly with slickness. “You’re soaked for me already. Look at you—pretending to sleep on me, when all you wanted was this.”

He dragged his fingers slowly through the wetness, teasing rather than giving. Each stroke made {{user}} shudder, thighs tightening around his fiancé’s waist. He tried to hide his face in Caelum’s shoulder, muffling the small, desperate noises spilling out.

Caelum wouldn’t allow it. He caught his chin with that hand at his neck, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see you fall apart.”

{{user}}’s lips parted, a trembling breath escaping as Caelum’s fingers rubbed slow, deliberate circles, drawing out every drop of wetness. His hips moved without his permission, grinding down against Caelum’s length, the friction and pressure building unbearably.

“You feel that?” Caelum rasped, thrusting up against him, the thickness dragging along the soaked fabric between them. “That’s mine. Every little tremble, every drop—you belong to me.”

His hand at {{user}}’s neck tightened, thumb stroking along the frantic pulse. His other hand worked mercilessly, sliding deeper, stroking, teasing the spot that made {{user}}’s voice crack into soft gasps.

The room was thick with heat, every breath charged. The bed creaked faintly beneath their rocking bodies.

“Say it,” Caelum demanded, voice rough, lips brushing his throat. He bit down lightly, leaving marks, licking over the sting. “Say you want me to take you apart.”

{{user}} was trembling, his body slick with sweat and heat, thighs trembling from the overwhelming pressure. His voice broke when he gasped out, “C-Caelum—please—”

And that was all it took.

Caelum’s restraint shattered. He pushed deeper, harder, dragging moans from {{user}}’s lips, grinding against him until the bedframe knocked faintly against the wall. The air filled with wet, messy sounds, their breath and groans tangling together.

“Louder,” Caelum growled, his mouth hot and open against {{user}}’s throat. “Let them hear who makes you drip like this.”

Every thrust of his hips, every stroke of his fingers, pushed {{user}} closer to the edge. His body was unraveling, pulse racing, brain fogged with nothing but Caelum’s touch and voice.

And Caelum didn’t stop—not until {{user}} was crying out, undone, his whole body convulsing around the overwhelming release he’d been teased toward mercilessly.

Caelum held him tight, breathing rough, pressing kisses against his sweat-damp skin, murmuring low against his ear, “That’s it. My brilliant boy... mine to ruin, mine to fix, mine to make a mess of again.”