Jon-the-Hot-Ta

Author's note:

(For those of you wondering where Aspen and Cary are, I haven't given up on them yet. I hope you won't either.)

The following is a standalone piece based (with liberties) on a TA I had in college myself - the memory wouldn't leave me alone until I'd written it.

-

"He's totally into me," Lindsay told Emmett, taking a sip of her latte.

Emmett snorted. "Yeah, sure, Linds. You really do think the world is in love with you, huh?"

"The world

is

in love with me, Jon-the-hot-TA included. Everyone except you, such a shame tits don't do it for you." She cupped her own generous cleavage teasingly and he had to laugh. They'd been friends since they'd lived in the same hall freshman year, but this was the first time they'd been in the same class, two years later. Lindsay did Bio and Emmett was Comp Sci, but both had needed to get their second writing credit out of the way.

The professor was boring and old but Jonathan Clark, a Lit grad student who was the teaching assistant, was far and away worth the monotone droning about Nathaniel Hawthorne and Mark Twain. Emmett found his eyes unable to leave the tall man during lectures - the professor would be at the podium and Jon would lean against the attached desk, muscular arms crossed, stormy grey eyes focused intently on the professor. Now and then he'd run a hand through his dark blond hair, tuck a longish strand behind his ear. He often wore trousers and very occasionally black rimmed spectacles, and he was seriously sexy. They both thought so.

Jon led the discussion sections that met once a week on top of the twice-weekly lecture. Lindsay and Emmett sat together and after every class they'd compare notes, competing for his affections.

"I still say he bats for my team," Emmett informed her. "He always calls on me in section, and I swear I can just feel those intense eyes on me." He shivered pleasurably; it was true, and had fueled more than one fantasy of that broad frame pinning him down to a desk- even the thought of it made his cock twitch.

"That's just because you're the only goody two shoes who actually does the reading. And no way. During lecture he's looking at me. It's just that you always sit next to me so you think he's looking at you." Lindsay tossed her long red hair back saucily. She was certainly beautiful, shapely with petal pink lips and clear blue eyes, a porcelain complexion. He probably

was

straight and into her, Emmett thought regretfully, not that he'd admit it.

Emmett didn't think he was awful looking, just kind of average, not bad. He had a sort of tan olive complexion thanks to some bit of Greek mixed in his heritage and brown hair that curled a little at the ends but was overall manageable, hazel greenish eyes that he liked okay. And unlike a lot of the Comp Sci nerds he kept himself in decent shape - he was on the track team, after all, not the star runner or anything but decent enough. But he didn't have the same kind of effortless confidence that Lindsay had and which made her so attractive, the kind of person everyone wanted to talk to.

Lindsay evidently took Emmett's silence as a challenge because she stood abruptly. "Fine, we'll put it to the test."

Emmett just blinked at her. "What—"

"Look, we'll both try it on with him. And then we'll see who it is he's looking at." She gave him a mischievous grin. "C'mon, it'll be fun. I'll go first. I'll hang out after lecture to ask a question about the final paper, and you can pretend to leave and stand outside the doors. There's such an echo you can hear everything if you keep the door a bit cracked."

He laughed. "You're insane." Lindsay just continued to grin at him. "You're not serious."

"Nothing crazy, Em, I'm just going to ask him for coffee sometime. But I'm making you witness your defeat." She smirked at him and he had to shake his head. She got like this - made outlandish plans and insisted on going through with them, like the time she'd been sure it'd be totally fun to take a shot of tequila on each floor of their 14 story freshman dorm. "And if he doesn't go for me then he's definitely gay and you should get at that." She waggled perfect red eyebrows.

"Even if I did agree to this - which I'm not - wouldn't you have a bit of an unfair advantage by going first?" Emmett pointed out.

Lindsay shrugged. "Fine, you try first."

Oh god.

"You know on second thought, not going first is a-okay-"

"So you will do it." She smiled, pleased, while Emmett sputtered and tried to backtrack. "Nope, you've agreed. After lecture tomorrow. Like I said, hang outside the door. And if things get steamy right then and there," she leaned forward, eyes twinkling, "I don't mind if you want to stay and watch."

-

Emmett was as nervous during the next day's lecture as if it

was

his turn. He took barely a note. Jon was even more of a distracting presence than usual, thick arms crossed, wearing a shirt of a dove grey that made his eyes look nearly black in comparison. He leaned insouciantly against the desk, all casual grace, and Emmett longed to crook a finger in each of his belt loops, drag them down, nibble at every inch of exposed skin, bury his face in his crotch. Make him groan out loud and lose that expression of unflappable calm.

Emmett jumped when Lindsay slapped her notebook shut beside him. He'd totally missed the end of class. When he flicked his eyes back to the sexy TA he found charcoal eyes pinned on him, insistent and unreadable. Did one corner of those sexy lips lift at him? Surely Emmett was still daydreaming.

"Okay, Em," Lindsay was saying pointedly. "You go grab us seats at the caf, I just have a question about the paper, I'll catch up." She grinned broadly at him. Most of the class has dashed out the moment the professor had finished, hell, the professor himself had made a beeline for the door, and Emmett was among the last to exit. He couldn't help but glance back at Lindsay as she made her way, hips swaying slightly, over to the desk. Jon was erasing some scribbles the professor had made on the backboard and Emmett's stomach clenched at the broad back tapering down to that perfect tight ass.

Not fair.

He had half a mind to just take off, turn tail to the cafeteria and deal with Linds' bitching, just so that he wouldn't have to watch the object of his fantasies snatched up out from under him. Lindsay wasn't even all that serious about it. She'd go on a date with the guy, sure, give him a good time, then brag about it, but Emmett-Emmett wanted to rock his world. Wanted to lose himself in the man. If possible, on a regular basis. "This was such a stupid idea," he said under his breath.

Still, when he got to the door, he made sure to tuck in the doorstop before he let the door swing shut, and he pressed himself back out of view of the narrow window on the door. Lindsay was right - he could hear every word echoing up the auditorium.

"...so I was wondering if it'd be possible to use the Lovecraft story in the final paper, even though it's outside of the time period, because..." Being in such proximity to such pure unadulterated hotness was clearly getting even to Lindsay, because the girl was blathering. He wished he could see it.

"No, Lindsay, I'm sorry, but if you'd read the prompt you'd know Professor Brown only wants you to use the three primary texts from the semester and supporting secondary sources." Jon's voice, as ever, was deep and clear, almost musical, and sent a shiver down Emmett's spine. "But that's not why you stopped by, is it?" His voice lowered slightly and Emmett felt his heart sink and sputter at once.

"I, er, what do you-" Lindsay was flustered too, evidently.

"You didn't appear to have read the Lovecraft story for section last week, and I'm fairly certain that you've never started working on a paper sooner than the day before it's due." His voice was smoky, serious, but not really rebuking her. Oh, hell. Emmett had to see the look on Linds' face. If he just peeked through the very edge of the window surely he couldn't be seen. "So what are you really here about?"

Craning his neck to glimpse through the window, trying to stay mostly out of sight himself, Emmett gulped. Jon had just finished packing up his messenger bag; it sat atop the desk that he leaned against, echoing his standard posture in class. His arms were crossed over his chest but his face was relaxed, lips ever so slightly twisted to indicate something like amusement.

Jesus

. Just looking at him made Emmett's head spin.

Lindsay seemed to brace herself, took half a step forward. "Well, okay, you're right. I didn't come to ask about the paper. In fact I wanted to ask..." She was facing away from him, but Emmett would bet money that she was pulling her classic pout, the one that seemed to invariably leave men helpless. "I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to grab coffee sometime. You know, outside of class?"

He had to give it to her. It sounded innocent and charming, unrehearsed. The girl knew how to play ball.

Bitch

, he thought fondly.

He sucked in a breath. His stomach seemed to sink as Jon took a long step towards her, so that they were intimately close, less than a foot apart, he'd swear. Emmett knew he shouldn't be watching this but he had to hear somehow.

"So you're asking me out," Jon said, leaning in even closer. He was so massive, not muscled like a meathead, just tall and

built

, especially next to Lindsay's petite frame. He had her cornered on all sides, and even though Emmett knew Lindsay had orchestrated all of this he couldn't help but see Jon as this sleek predator trapping his prey.

"Yes," Lindsay said, rather breathlessly, but still more composed than Emmett would have been in her position. Hell, Emmett might have dropped to his knees and begged to suck Jon's cock by now.

"And yet you never seem too interested in what I have to say during section."

"Oh, I'm interested," Lindsay practically fell over herself to assure him. "I'm very, very interested."

"Maybe," Jon said, picking up a strand of Lindsay's long red hair from where it lay tossed over her shoulder, twisting it around. "Or maybe you're not so interested in talking? Hmm? You're not after coffee and a discussion of Melville, now are you? You want something else, don't you." He tugged the on the strand just gently before letting it fall back.

Emmett could see the rise and fall of Lindsay's breasts; she was clearly affected by the man's proximity, his touch. Emmett bet she could smell him, masculine and clean. "You're right. I want you," she said, all feminine in her boldness. Even as he kind of hated her for it, he had to admire her confidence.

"I have a policy about that," Jon murmured, almost too low for Emmett to hear. Lindsay seemed to take this as a good sign for she almost started forward until Jon caught her by each wrist, holding her at arm's length.

Still she leaned in as she asked in a much more carrying voice, one tinged with seduction, "Oh? And what policy is that?"

Emmett could see Jon's face over her shoulder. He seemed almost smug as he paused. He released Lindsay's wrists, let his hands ghost up over her bare arms until even Emmett shivered, letting them rest on her shoulders. He could actually hear Lindsay's intake of breath.

Damn her, she's totally winning.

"It's my policy," and Jon's voice was louder and clearer now, though still heavy with suggestion, "to only fuck students who get an A on their final paper."

And with that astonishing statement, he let his storm grey gaze lift from Lindsay's face to unmistakably meet Emmett's own, his expression almost triumphant, and he smirked.

At the periphery of his vision Emmett was aware that Jon had used those hands placed on Lindsay's shoulders to swivel her around towards the door, but he only got a fleeting impression of Jon pointedly but gently propelling her out of the classroom, because he did the only thing that made sense to do in that moment after Jon's eyes had seared into his: he turned tail and fled.

--

"C'mon, don't be a little bitch about this."

Emmett snorted. "More flies with honey, Linds."

"Em, we made a deal! I made my pass and it didn't work," she pouted, "and now it's your turn."

"What's the point?" Emmett flicked to the next page of his textbook, though he hadn't absorbed a word of the last. "We both heard what he said. He doesn't" he lowered his voice slightly in the quiet of the library, "

fuck

anyone who doesn't get an A on the final paper. Aside from the fact that we don't even know if he goes for dudes."

Lindsay swatted him. "Excuse me, you are not a

dude.

You are a hot piece of man meat, prime ass-" she would have gone on if Emmett hadn't hushed her, laughing. "Don't be stupid, Emmett. You think a lame 'policy' would keep him from tapping

this

ass? No way. I could get an A and he still wouldn't be into it. He's so gay."

Emmett repressed a sigh. He wished he could say he hadn't traced this path of reason multiple times over the last two weeks of the semester since Lindsay had made her overture. "I don't know, Linds."

"Don't give me that. Fine, you know what, your lame excuses are running out since we get our stupid papers back after today's lecture. Don't think I haven't noticed you slaved over yours, either."

Emmett couldn't deny that. He'd thrown himself into the paper, not knowing what else to do with himself. It was either obsess over the paper or obsess over the way Jon's eyes had burned into his. He'd done his best to avoid obsessing over that. He'd gone so far as sitting in the way back and hardly raising his hand in section. He was pretty sure it was for his own good, even if he wasn't quite sure why he was doing it.

And yet the harder he tried to avoid the man the more his presence seemed impossible to ignore. In the last section Jon had circled the room asking discussion questions; at one point, he had hovered just behind Emmett, a hand on the back of his chair, until Emmett felt overheated by his presence, trying desperately to look casual, studious, focused on anything but the large hand curled up against his back. Then Jon had moved on to another part of the classroom, but Emmett wasn't sure he had drawn so much as a breath again until after class had ended.

It was, in short, ridiculous. Emmett had no proof whatsoever that the sexy grad student was into him. He was getting all hot and bothered over nothing.

"Hello, earth to Emmett?! Are you in there?" Lindsay was waving a hand in front of his face. "Jesus. You do have it bad."

"I don't know what you're referring to," Emmett lied.

"Shut up. If you get an A on the paper, which you will, you're going for it. Or else I'll tell him you want him myself."

"Lindsay!" Emmett was appalled. "You wouldn't!"

She glared at him so fiercely that he had no doubt that, in fact, she would.

"You need to get some confidence, Em. You're gorgeous and you don't even realize it. I know this has all been fun and games up til now but I can tell you're hung up on the guy. And since there's no way in hell

I'm

getting an A," she grimaced, "if I can't have him, you might as well." She finished this with an impish grin and Emmett had to sigh.

"We'll just see if I get an A, anyway," he said, mostly to shut her up, but she squealed as if he'd told her he had plans to propose.

Girls

.

He couldn't pay attention to the professor's droning all class. He didn't seem the only one, either. With their final papers submitted and only their final grades hanging over their heads, most students seemed to have plain given up. Emmett's fingers tapped a silent rhythm on his knee. Jon was leaning, careless, against the professor's desk, as usual. Emmett tried not to look, but every few minutes he would catch his gaze turning towards the man, his presence like an irresistible blazing beacon, impossible to ignore. God, he was hot.

Finally, after an interminable fifty minutes, the professor paused for breath and looked at the clock with surprise. "Goodness, that's another semester come and gone," he said mildly. "Well, children, Jon will hand back your papers and final grades will be posted in about a week. And remember, in the spring I'll be teaching 'Chaucer's England,' so be sure to sign up before all the seats are taken!"

A few students clapped awkwardly. The professor began to pack up his briefcase as Jon stepped away from the desk, a stack of papers in his hand. He divided this into four smaller piles and placed on four empty desks in the ever-shunned first row.

"A-D surnames are here," he drawled out, pointing to the first desk. "E-J there, K-R beside it and S-Z on the end."

It was a large class, and Emmett wasn't sure if he should join the surge forward and try to sneak out before Lindsay did something to embarrass him or linger in the hopes of...well...anything.

Lindsay bounced past, pulling him forward out of his reverie - and his seat. "C'mon, slow poke!" She shot him a mischievous smirk.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he grumbled, but he felt a flutter of nerves. He both wanted that A and dreaded it, knowing Lindsay would force him to act on it - if he even

got

an A, he reminded himself.

But when it was his turn to rifle through the first stack, hunting for the paper marked Emmett Cleary - he was left empty handed. He flipped several times between Lucille Cerone and Andrew Davis before shuffling through the whole pile in case it had gotten out of order - but nothing. He would have looked again except that his classmates behind him seemed impatient to find their own papers and get the hell out of there.

"So?" Lindsay bounced over to him, cheerful as can be. "What'd you get? I think I did pretty well myself," she said, shoving the packet in her hand and the bright red C+ scrawled atop it at him. "Considering I think I was still partly drunk when I wrote it."

"Well done Linds," Emmett rolled his eyes. "I didn't find my paper, though." The auditorium had mostly cleared, so Emmett turned back to the desk to look through the stack again. But now there were only two papers left in the pile - and neither were his.

"Well, that's strange," Lindsay had a glint in her eye. "Guess you'll have to ask Jon if he's seen it."

"I...guess so," Emmett sighed. His stomach was all butterflies as he looked toward the desk, where Jon stood with a short line of students clearly waiting to discuss their grades. "I don't know, he looks kind of busy..."

"Don't be silly." Lindsay shoved him in their direction and Emmett glared at her. "Well, go on. I'd wait with you, but I finally agreed to coffee with Jeremy." She flipped her hair, looking pleased.

"Finally is right! He's been begging you for months. How'd he finally convince you?"

"Oh no darling," Lindsay laughed. "Go get your paper. We'll gossip later at dinner - see you there." She winked, gave him a little wave, and was gone.

Resignedly, Emmett made his way into the queue of students surrounding Jon. Two of them were talking at once-"but Jon, my thesis isn't that-" and "if my father hears I didn't pass this class, he'll..." But Jon seemed unworried.

"If you have questions regarding your paper or grade, you can send me and the professor an email with your concerns, but grades for the semester have already been submitted," he told them. "Ah, Emmett, what can I do for you?"

The two students accosting Jon looked at him mistrustfully. "I - uh - sorry to bother you, but my paper wasn't in the pile." Emmett couldn't meet Jon's eyes and had a bad feeling that he might be turning slightly pink.

"I see," Jon said in that deep, smooth voice of his. "And you're sure you remembered to hand it in?"