The English department building after hours was a spooky place. The lights were on in all the hallways but in none of the classrooms, and nary a soul was in sight. I'd always seen it bustling with slack-jawed students and harassed graduate assistants hurrying from class to class, so being here at 8pm on a Friday night was more than a little surreal.
I had an appointment with Dr. Leo Blumenthal to go over my outline of a paper on a deconstructionist reading of Thomas Mann's "The Magic Mountain". At least, that was the official reason; I didn't really give a shit about the outline, I knew it was good. I had a massive, embarrassing schoolboy crush on Dr. Blumenthal and found myself using any excuse, however flimsy, to stop by his office.
He was a tall - well over six feet - lean, wolfish man of 40 or so; he had a long, narrow face with high, hollow cheekbones, a wide, full-lipped mouth and large, very black eyes. His black hair was cropped quite short, he wore trendy black-framed glasses, and he always dressed very well, favoring skinny jeans that made his legs look miles long and well-cut blazers that highlighted his broad shoulders.
He had a throaty, warbling sort of voice, with hints of a foreign accent now and again - he was born in Israel - and it was how he talked about literature that turned me on the most. Every day in class, I saw him going into the zone - he became animated by his intelligence and his passion for the material.
A Friday night was an odd time to see a professor, but Dr. Blumenthal had been at a conference in Boston since Wednesday, and getting back into the city this evening, he told me he would be at his office catching up with some work.
I made my way up to the third floor, where his office was. All the other offices and classrooms were in darkness; I was just about to knock on his door and come in when I noticed the door was slightly ajar, and there were voices drifting out.
"...you're kidding?" said a woman. I recognized Jane, the chatty, friendly English department secretary. She was a big, colorful woman, a bit of a hippie; I liked her very much and I enjoyed flirting with her whenever I needed anything from the English department office.
"I know, but it's been almost two years." This was Dr. Blumenthal.
"But, honey, a handsome guy like you..." Jane began.
"It took me a long time to get over Michael," said Dr. Blumenthal. "And ever since then... I don't know, you get so busy and it's hard to meet someone my age who's not already in a relationship. And if they're single, it's usually with good reason."
"Then find a younger guy!" Jane said.
Dr. Blumenthal laughed.
"No, I'm serious. With looks like yours, you could find a younger guy any time. Honey, we have got to get you a man."
"You're very sweet, Jane," Dr. Blumenthal said very wearily. "But I'm expecting a student anytime, so I'm going to have to kick you out."
"Alright, well - remember what I said! You need to get laid, honey, it's not healthy to go for that long without it." I sprinted to hide behind a corner, then walked back towards the office, meeting Jane as she was leaving his office.
"Hello, young Nick," Jane said. "Are you going to see Leo, by any chance?"
"As a matter of fact I am, young Jane," I said, smiling.
"Ah." She smiled quizzically, then walked off, leaving behind only a waft of her breezy patchouli scent.
I walked to Dr. Blumenthal's office and tapped on his door, thinking over the conversation I had overheard.
"Nicholas! Come in," he smiled when he saw me. "How are you?"
"I'm good," I said, sitting down. "How are you?"
He took off his glasses and rubbed his temple. "Very tired. The conference was such a bore."
"I could come back another time, if you're tired. You look like you need some rest," I said.
"No, no, it's all right; let's go over this outline."
We went over it for a few minutes, but I could tell he had a difficult time staying focused. He kept rubbing his eyes and yawning.
"Dr. Blumenthal," I said. "It's really not that urgent, we can do this next week."
"Oh, call me Leo," he said. "I can't get used to this 'Doctor' thing. And I'm sorry, Nick, I'm just so tired."
"It's totally okay," I assured him. "I'll stop by your office hours on Monday?" I got up to leave.
"No! Don't go yet. We can get this done." He looked at me, earnestly, and I sat back down.
Leo massaged the back of his neck, throwing his head backwards, showing his perfect jaw line and prominent Adam's apple. I wanted nothing more than to feel the stubble of his five o'clock shadow against my cheek. Remembering his conversation with Jane, and that imploring look in his eyes when I was about to leave, I decided to go for it.
"May I?" I said, getting up and walking around his desk, behind his chair. "I'm pretty good at this."
"Nicholas, I don't think this is quite... appropriate..." he said, but I had already began kneading the skin on the back of his neck. Just touching the nape of his neck was electrifying. His skin was smooth and warm under my touch, softer than I had imagined. I felt him tense, then relax, and sigh deeply.
