Who are we?

It all begins with the asking of a beautiful question. From there the beautiful answer unfolds.

[domeverett]

three people you'd pick to have an orgy with

​

  Why be confined by the rules? I’d have an orgy with the door open and invite anyone to join in.

Suppose you’re tryin to make me say who I think I’d have the most fun with. That Duncan fellow is sure to be a good time. And Ian is always the most eager boy. A killer duo, if you want to make me pick, mate. 

@duncanlewis @sweetcinnamcn

[domeverett]

No holds barred, anything goes.

[domeverett]

princelai·: @princelai·

There’s more unknown than known about Mr. Blake, but a discerning study of his publications and the fact that the Headmaster invited him is enough to tell Lai that he could pose a problem eventually. If the Dominants in The Order want to drag their feet and continue to let the Academy be defiled, then that’s on them. Lai is capable of taking action too. 

So he played his role and played it well, the attentive student entranced by the guest lecturer’s words. He sat in the third row, close but not too close, and “bumped” into him during his stroll. The perfect opportunity to pick Mr. Blake’s brain about some of the concepts Lai’s poor little mind couldn’t grasp. “I imagine a lot has remained the same since you were a student, Sir. Conversely, there are probably a few alumni from your class who wouldn’t recognize these halls anymore.” Interesting that Westinghouse came up. In truth, Lai isn’t sure what to say, or rather what he should say. It’s blatantly obvious that he’s more rigid than the overly comfortable Dominant, but does that translate to nervousness? Admittedly, that’s what he feels the moment their gazes meet. He’s the first to look away, blushing, but realizes he’s taking a bit too long to respond. “I think he’s doing the best he can with the hand he was dealt. It can’t be easy to shoulder generations of legacy and expectation…” That felt like the safe answer, no real opinions given, little chance for a slip up. But Lai continues, wanting to cover all his bases. “Then again, he might’ve felt obligated to be extra polite with me, so what do I know? I have family members who sit on the Board that signs his checks, so my opinions might yield bad data. Though, he does have a certain … gravitas about him that I like.”

`

    Everett would have to have been born under a very sizable rock not to know the last name Shen. They were a charter family. There were Shens at Lowell all the way back to its founding. There were a few Shens in attendance when Everett was a student. The newest among them to come here was gorgeous. Well behaved. Spoke well and with the highest degree of form and politeness. Normally the two might not have mixed but Everett wasn't one to cut himself off from students and this one had seemed to take an interest in Everett's work. Or in Everett himself. The Australian wouldn't flatter himself enough to think that Lai harbored a crush but he'd at least been to Everett's first lecture -- something not everyone could boast.

  The most glaring thing about the boy was his cautiousness not to form too strong an opinion on any one thing or another. He seemed to want to make no waves and thus often answered any question or comment with utter diplomacy. Everett gave a gentle smile, hoping that Shen felt comfortable with him. He seemed to have a clear respect for teachers but Everett wanted to see him loosen up a little. "He does, doesn't he?" Everett agreed. "I wonder what his submissive's like." A man's mate tended to say something about him. At least in Everett's view.

    Everett stopped their walk for a moment, smiled again, and opened his mouth. He closed it and smiled once more, moving forward. "Mr. Shen...I hope you know that anything said here is just between us. There's no judgment here." He paused, chuckling a little. "You're---not that you need me to tell you this---you're allowed to have an opinion."

  He always felt a little awkward saying things he thought were obvious. Like people would assume he was tossing around his Dominant male ego or something. Giving permission and all. But sometimes? He found that's kinda what some people needed. "Me? I think he's got a stick up his ass." Everett smirked, being purposely crude. "Has plenty of practice walking around with it in I'm sure." He joked. "And what about the other Doms here? They have that same issue with sticks, too?" It was good to get an insider's perspective on the student population. He was happy to get it from Lai.

[domeverett]

sweetcinnamcn·: @sweetcinnamcn·

Sexual? You can’t bang a horse or metal plates. I guess you could do it in a pool, but that just sounds annoying. What happens to the cum? It’ll just wash away! That’s no fun, Sir. Sports are for friends, you can think about doing sexy stuff after you work up a sweat not during.

But you should just do what I did and choose the ones that’ll let you use your body the most. You look like you have a great one. 

`

    You mean to tell me that bouncing, grunting, and getting wet don't sound sexual to you? Maybe I just have a dirty mind. It's been known to happen.

  Well aren't you sweet? I try to challenge myself physically in any way I can. It keeps things interesting. Which of the three sports are you in?

[rob-pattinson]

CHRIS HEMSWORTH for Centr › 2019

[domeverett]

Location: Library, Promenade, Conservatory, or garden mazes Context: Can be someone he does or doesn't know already (from classes, from town, from previous attendance, whatever).

    Everett hadn't been on the grounds all that long but everywhere he turned there were memories of his days as a student here. He had settled into his room and unpacked. Tried to make it feel a little like home but usually traveled light. He knew he wasn't here for the long haul. Which made everything feel that much more temporary despite the roots of his past all around him. He'd decided a walk would do him some good. Everett never was great at staying still for terribly long.

    Their meeting had been chance but even now he spoke to them like they'd always been friends. That was his way. "Does it count as coming back if it feels like I never left?" he asked, grin on his lips. "Honestly it's a miracle they hired me on. Research feels a little open ended; which means I plan to have fun with it." He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked onward, automatically shortening his steps so the other could keep up. "Makes me curious about Headmaster Westinghouse." Most establishment types would be too afraid to rattle Lowell's status quo thinking with a researcher in Everett's field. Research inevitably meant questioning what one thought of as known. "What's your impression of him?" he asked, blue eyes turned to them in curiosity.

[domeverett]

   They say I’m allowed to co-sponsor an activity while I’m here. I’m honored. Question is, do I go for equestrian practice, weightlifting, or water polo? There’s a lot of bouncing in equestrian practice, a lot of grunting in weightlifting, and water polo seems like a good excuse to get wet. 

   New question: why does all of this suddenly sound terribly sexual? 

[domeverett]

Warmer months will come again. I can’t wait.

[domeverett]

littlelionquinn·: @littlelionquinn·

There were so many words left unsaid. He knew it - James knew it, too. Yet neither of them had the mind to speak them. Quinn didn’t know what the other was thinking exactly, even if he could guess the tone. Was he concerned about Quinn’s school work? Or was he concerned it was something beyond that which took his time? But then, such concern would be justified. The submissive hated lying to James, keeping this from him and betraying him. Before Riley, he’d never realized how lackluster his life was, how comfortable he’d become in the mundane and not-quite-enough. But it wasn’t James’ fault. Did he ever have similar thoughts, too?

But he couldn’t think of such things now. Not when his claim was looking at him with heated eyes. His words gentle and commanding at the same time. There was a reason Quinn had been, and still was, attracted to him. James’ demeanor, his personality, his way with control. All things Quinn had been drawn to. And those things that still made his skin prickle with goosebumps and his stomach fill with butterflies.

He didn’t look back up until James moved forward, their bodies much closer now. The other’s tone, his reaction, it was enough to stir his own excitement. There was a quick intake of breath at the touch to his nipple, Quinn’s body continuing to react. He was completely bare, his every reaction on display, and then James, all clothed and commanding presence. But that just turned him on.

Their claiming night. It had been wonderful. For all the uncertainties now, Quinn knew that their early time together was everything he had hoped for. ‘You were so perfect.’ Were. Not anymore. Had James even meant it like that or even realized his own word choice? Something he felt though, surely, at least on some level. “You were perfect, too,” he replied, voice soft. Because he was, the night was. Even now the thought of it made his heart skip a beat, half arousal but half genuine feelings.

With the other’s guiding touch, Quinn finally met James’ gaze. His eyes were so beautiful. He wondered if his own looked as heated. The kiss made sense, yet it was a little bit of a surprise to Quinn, something he hadn’t expected. But he fell into it easily, body moving forward unconsciously, wanting to be closer. He was breathing heavy when James pulled away, now certain that his eyes were darker too.

There was a quiet whine in the back of his throat, hearing James’ words. He silently obeyed, reaching forward and letting his fingers trace along James’ bulge. They were both hard, then, Quinn’s more visible but James’ just as proud. ‘Feel what you do to me.’ Fuck, Quinn knew he was gone from this point forward. At the question he wasted little time in dropping to his knees, looking up at his Dom. “Makes me wanna feel you,” he said. His hands reached up for James’ pants, but made no move until he was given the okay. “I want to feel more, see more. I….” His words trailed off as pink spread across his cheeks, his gaze tilting down. “I want to please you and…. feel you… feel you inside me.”

`

      Maybe they hadn't been communicating lately. Maybe they'd been off when it came to relating with their words, but, there was still an unspoken connection between them. Over the years they'd built a routine around certain things which became almost a language of its own. It was like a silent affirmation of their history and of their life together every time Quinn brought him a cup of coffee exactly the way James liked it or when James waited up for Quinn before going to bed. These were little things that had come to be expected. Things that spoke on a level that words sometimes did not but which still held equal meaning.

      Quinn's heavy breathing and his darkened eyes were speaking to James too. They were telling him that this most basic and primal language was not one they'd forgotten how to speak. It was always there waiting for them among whatever else was being said or done. Quinn had always been able to so easily slip into his submission and James always felt so at home in his own Dominance that this kind of dynamic felt like coming home. Each of them feeding reciprocally off the other's energy and need. James couldn't help but steal yet another kiss from Quinn's lip, this time biting gently and tugging on the bottom lip as he pulled away. He wanted Quinn to feel that. Feel his Dominance.

      It was when Quinn dropped to his knees that a settled feeling washed over James. This was what felt right. When Quinn acknolwedged his Dominance by offering his own submission in response to it. He hummed low in his throat and watched. Quinn was beautiful at all times but James found him absolutely captivating when he was submitting. James kept his body still as Quinn's palm reached up to touch him. He gave a nod in okay for him to continue exploring with his hands.

      "Is that so? Do you want to be my good boy?" James stroked through Quinn's hair once and then slid his finger beneath Quinn's chin to lift his gaze. "Look me in the eye when you're telling me all the dirty things you want from your Sir," said James. "I want to see your face when you're being all needy for me. All dirty."

      James' expression remained gentle as he nodded at his bulge. "Go on and take me out, Quinn," he ordered. "Then I want you to show my cock some appreciation." James lifted his brows. "Do your best or I won't convinced you deserve to be filled up." James stood tall and waited to be obeyed. He bit his lip and bent over to get a better view of Quinn's assets. "If you're lucky I'll tongue you open really good before I stretch you open."

[domeverett]

Super extra naughty indecent dirty raunch-fest the meme!!!!

❤ : Where on their body is your muse most sensitive?

✿ : Has your muse ever had sex before?

☜ : Does your muse like to top?

☞ : Does your muse like to bottom?

∀ : Your muse's favorite position?

☺ : How often does your muse masturbate?

☂ : How long does it take your muse to hit climax, usually?

✌ : Is your muse good with their hands?

♡ : Does your muse have any birthmarks or scars they get embarrassed about others seeing?

Á : Is your muse loud in bed?

⚔ : Does your muse have any specific kinks?

☯ : If you're comfortable with it, write a drabble about our muses doing something naughty. If not, put a strikethrough across this one in your reblog (or simply don't do it; your blog, your rules ;3).

☌ : Would/does your muse have any special piercings anywhere? Would they get some?

♥ : Does your muse like to cuddle after sex? Anything else for aftercare?

[domeverett]

littlelionquinn·: @littlelionquinn·

A relaxed sigh came from Quinn at the other’s words. It was small and unconscious, but it was clear that the reassurance settled him. A smile spread onto his features, and that was his simple reply. The touch though, it had his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he looked at James again.

It was times like this that made Quinn doubt things. How could he not love the man in front of him? But no, he did. It just… wasn’t enough. Not enough feelings, not enough passion. Where was the love he’d read about? All-consuming but understated all at the same time. Oh, of course he knew that prose was often exaggerated, but still, he also knew there was something here, between him and James, that was missing.

He let those thoughts fade away, instead focusing on the topic of his etiquette project. “Yes, they will present their chosen topics at the end. There will be a paper and several smaller assignments as well.” He gave a small tilt of his head. “I certainly am not basing my curriculum specifically around the topics chosen, but I did have them pick early for a reason. I want to make sure and cover areas the students are interested in. Ideally, the students learning more about their topic would flow with the class. I’m not looking for perfect in each of their assignments but rather an increase in their knowledge with each new thing.”

Truthfully, Quinn wondered if that would be an acceptable answer for James. Or rather, a wise answer. They seldom discussed it (though it had come up in the past), but there was always a feeling that the Dom sometimes wished Quinn was less involved in his classes and other school activities.

Still, it was on Quinn too for not broaching the topic either, just as he was failing to do so now. Instead he let himself be lead into their bedroom, familiar comfort sneaking its’ way in as their hands locked together. He had every intention of getting ready for bed, but he stopped with the look on James’ face. At first he didn’t really get the words of the other, though it soon became clear. A shiver ran through Quinn even before he could begin to move. A bit sheepishly, he began taking off his clothes. He liked himself just fine but a strip tease wasn’t exactly up his alley. His movements were.. well, more submissive. Not too fast, not too slow, looking back to James every so often for confirmation this was what he wanted. There was a slight hesitation as he slipped off his briefs (more his own nature than feeling embarrassed), leaving himself fully naked before the other. He caught James’ gaze for a moment before bowing his head. Quinn let out a breath, already feeling his mind and body start to react to whatever it was his Dom had in mind.

`

    There was a moment where James wanted to stop what they were doing. Where he wanted to address the fact that Quinn was taking on so much already. He practically threw himself into his work. His boy liked to be organized and he liked to do things well. James sometimes wondered if this was part of his submissive nature--always wanting to make sure he was being a good boy--always in search of some sort of praise worthy actions to show for his ability.

    James had always admired Quinn's work ethic. There was a part of him that found the thought of an accomplished submissive just as appealing as having a prize winner at home. Yet James couldn't help but acknowledge that any shortcomings he attributed to Quinn were due to his own expectations of what a submissive should be. He'd thought Quinn knew that his demure and pliant nature was partly what had attracted him in the first place. The way he was so willing and the way he had so fully embraced his submissive nature. He was beginning to see that side of Quinn less and less in recent months. Perhaps recent years, if he was more honest.

      Yet seeing Quinn standing before him, looking to James for some mixture of approval and guidance, had the Dominant forgetting all of that. He felt his pants tighten at his sub's beautiful body. That body was his. Just like James' body belonged to Quinn. They were wholly unto each other.

  “Look at you,” he said softly. “Reminds me of our claiming night.” James smirked. Walked forward. His fingertip curled in on itself and his knuckle brushed along the contour of Quinn's pec muscle and he watched Quinn's face as he flicked his nipple. It was beginning to peak in the cooler air of the bedroom; it being fall and the temperature change causing uncertain fluctuations in all the indoor buildings. “You were so...perfect. A little timid and shy.” There was teasing in James' voice and fondness as he recalled all the little details. Were these recollections true? Or had James embellished a little in the eye of his memory? He couldn't tell. Everything seemed rosier in the beginning.

  James brought that same curled knuckle beneath Quinn's chin and brought his gaze to meet James' gaze. He swallowed. His focus darted from Quinn's eyes, to his nose, to his chin, and back again. He made a sound in his throat. “Mm.” James leaned forward and captured Quinn's lips in his own, tilting his claim's chin up, deepening the kiss. He was taking what was his. Taking pleasure in it. Indulging himself in Quinn's lips. His perfect lips. James didn't break away until they both were almost out of air. “Feel me,” he said. A glance down to his bulge. “Feel what you do to me.”

    “What's it make you wanna do, darling boy?”

[domeverett]

Have you ever had a crush on one of your students?

I wouldn’t say ‘crush.’ We work around our fair share of talented and accomplished men. I’d say I take notice on occasion. 

I’m almost sure my submissive would say the same.

[domeverett]

Fire away.

[domeverett]

Making The Cut. James + Cass.

Title: Making the Cut  Timeframe: Sometime in the afternoon of 9.27  Tagging: @cruelboy Cassius Westbrooke and James Ashworth. Total: ~3,000 words  Notes: Completed.

JAMES

James was honestly used to this sort of thing. Someone didn't make the team and felt entitled to know why. These boys, though very skilled and often competitive in impressive ways, were also entitled. They were used to being able to bully or buy their way into anything they wanted and if not? They had mom and dad come in and try a second round. Some sent their parents in on the first go round.

He had been prepared for at least one fight when he'd posted the team listing to the school bulletin board, just outside the main dining hall, where teachers sat for their meals at the faculty table. He just hadn't assumed Westbrooke would be one of them. 

"As I said," James looked up from his papers, fingers slotting together over a pile of syllabi. "The decision has been made. I know that each student tries their best when they're out on the track but unfortunately there are a limited number of spots, which means not everyone will get one." 

He paused, knowing compliments often softened the blow. "Yours was an excellent tryout...but there were better runners. It's that simple..." Though the intricacies of his decision weren't technically that unburdened. There was one Dom student who might not have made the cut but James assumed Cassius merely wanted to keep fit, for aesthetic reasons. He could do that on his own time. "Surely there are other physical fitness activities you could pursue....?"

CASSIUS

Cassius can be quite machiavellian when he wants to be. He’s got his preferred method for solving certain problems, but he’s smart enough to realize that a good kiss with a fist can’t solve everything. (Most things, but not all things.) He hasn’t written off the possibility that that’s what this situation needs just yet, but he’s willing to adapt to the whatever challenges Mr. Ashworth throws his way.

Cassius is invested in Cross Country. He doesn’t really care about soccer or lacrosse, though he sees their importance in keeping his demons tamed - but Cross Country is one sport that doesn’t require him to be part of a team and he is damn good at it. After the initial burst of anger that burns bright like a firecracker when the news he hasn't been picked initially drops, Cassius stops and makes a decision. He’s going to get Mr.Ashworth to change his mind. 

Three seconds into talking to this man and he knows that persuasion is the poison of the night. He won’t be coy about it, nothing was ever gained without boldness but this last statement that almost makes him throw his composure out the window. This is a submissive thing, isn't it? There’s that firecracker again, threatening to go off, threatening to spark hot. 

“Yeah, I'm already doing soccer and lacrosse and I’m going to fucking blow my brains out if I have to do another team sport. The other ones don’t really interest me. I want to do Cross Country.” Cassius says firmly. His gaze finds the other like a lighthouse. “You’re making a mistake,” He continues. “I made great times out there. But that’s the thing... you need at someone who can make the times and handle the stress that comes with - and at least three of the guys you picked are pussies.” Cassius states this like fact. Because it is. “What’s it going to take you to reconsider?”

And if Mr. Ashworth doesn’t reconsider, Cassius is determined to make the rest of his life at Lowell a living hell.

JAMES

James gave pause as Cassius laid out the dire nature of his self-inflicted predicament. He blinked a few times and studied the student. "Two other sports and you're aiming for a third, alongside classes?" It was true that at Lowell they pushed for excellence but the submissives were meant to focus on more of the... softer arts. Now that he knew Cassius had made two other sports he was even more concerned that he wasn't embracing his role here. 

"Wouldn't you prefer more energy to... perfect the activities that you're already apart of?" James liked to work in one particular way when it came handling disagreements with students: convince the other person that what he wanted was what they wanted. 

He sat back at Cassius' critique of the Dominant students. "Mr. Westbrooke, if I'm not mistaken, you've just arrived on campus, yes?" He asked. "And you're telling me you know these students very well and know how they handle stress?" He lifted his brows, almost inviting Cassius to confirm this, even though the way he'd laid out the assertion msde it clear that was impossible. "Because I have been coach of Cross Country since I began my teaching tenure here and I tend to have an ability to pick capable and competent athletes." Not a slight on Cassius but James knew the other may take it as one. "It was a close call and you would have been...a fine addition to the team, but I just don't see how your argument for reconsideration is based on more than 'I want it and I deserve it more than the ones who got it.'" 

He wasn't about to reward such an argument. It was lazy. It seemed an invitation for Cassius to make a better one if he wanted to sway James for real. The Dominant could appreciate a good mental back and forth. Kept the mind sharp. "Do you see where that puts me in regard to your request?" Though, it was favorable that Cassius wanted it badly enough that he was willing to fight for it.

CASSIUS

“Yes” Cassius said, rather stiffly as he listened to the other's response. Glad this one could count. “Real kind of you to look out for me, but I know what I can handle.” 

And he meant that. Cassius had spent the majority of his life looking out for only himself and Cassius would continue doing so. He really didn’t need someone who barely knew him telling him what was best for him or where his energies would be better spent. He watched the professor sit back in his chair and he settled back into his own. Cassius wanted to let out an exasperated sigh when Mr. Ashworth demanded an explanation as to how exactly he knew. There was an eye-roll, certainly not the last of the evening, but Cassius returned a steady gaze to the older man. His jaw clicked in determination. No point in lying. “I know these things because because I’ve fucked all three of them.” He said, like it hadn't meant much. It hadn't. He hadn't done them all at the same time, of course, but that would have been fun, wouldn’t it? A thought for another time and place, “or ‘knew them,’” He continued Quote, unquote, “In the biblical sense. Whatever politically correct phrasing you need in order to not write off the validity of the point here. I can confidently say from first hand they cannot handle stress.” 

His eyes narrowed, gaze sharpened, though his words were the things a person would cut themselves on. Cassius leaned in, at the edge of his chair so it tipped forward slightly. He enunciated his words, a little like he was speaking to a child.  

“My argument for reconsideration is based on the fact that I am better than them.” And I want it and deserve it. But that, apparently, was already a given. “I know this is about my class and I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here by protecting an archaic and regressive system. It won’t mean anything when you don’t place at regionals. Silver and bronze don’t matter, people only remember gold.”

JAMES

"It's my job to think about all students, but especially ones who I have selected to be on my team," he said confidently. He paused, cautious of his words. "It's always good to know your limits," he said, knowing the usual associations of the word. 

The eyeroll. The crassness with which he spoke -- however honest -- the determination he'd made of the selections James had made. There was a part of him, somewhat dormant but ever present, that was prickling a little at the way Cassius insinuated himself into this decision. As if he knew better. As if James was mistaken. A dominant made mistakes sure, but his had been a strategic choice. He felt sound in his logic. Yet...Cassius talking back, being a little more obstinate...it wasn't the type of submissive James was used to. It reminded him of something. Almost as though a long forgotten place he had once known but rarely visited. He was catching glimpses of that place. Ghosts. Yet he couldn't quite get it to show itself to him. 

"You dangle your...acceptance...as a surety of gold. You tout your talent and your grit. You seem so certain of your persecution based on your classification." James seemed to hold back just a touch of amusement. Of course he'd heard this before. It was something of a tactic, whether genuine or not, which some subs here used to get their way. There was such shame for some Dominants and such a scrambling to appear PC that they wouldn't dare to let themselves stand accused of being classist. 

"No, I can see...you want this." He moved from his chair and walked around his desk to settle against it. He crossed his arms over his chest. "So, I'll give you three options. You can do what apparently hadn't crossed your mind in the first place, and ask nicely for a spot on the team." He paused. "You can ask one of those Dominants you're so sure won't get me the gold to step down so you may have their spot..." James' blues looked at the man. "Or, you can accept defeat." 

In a way, James need not assert his Dominance at all in a scenario like this. It was plain for Cassius to see in the manner in which he handled the complaint. He knew this choice would not be easy for a guy like Westbrooke. It would be a true sign of character to see what he ended up choosing. Your move. He seemed to say.

CASSIUS

Cassius processed the options as they were given to him. Absofuckinglutely not, was his immediately response to the first. When had Cassius ever asked for anything nicely in his life? The second was laughable: and Cassius wanted to ask if Mr. Ashworth wanted to be responsible for a dead body. That was the only way Cassius was getting through a conversation like that with a Dom. 

But the third.... the third was just downright unacceptable. Cassius wouldn’t even consider it, couldn’t even consider it. Immediately, it repelled him. Cassius stepped into this office with every intention of changing this professor’s mind and he didn’t intend to leave without it. A bitterness spread across his tongue. His lips threatened to stretch back and bare teeth, a caged animal ready for a fight. So. One or two it was. 

“That’s a helluva choice.” He said slowly. 

He hated this trichotomy offered to him, as if these were the only three options in the world. But that was the way of this place wasn’t it? The trichotomy of classification, the dichotomy of dominance and submission. Cassius was going to burn it all down, but that was a long con. He knew this. For now, Cassius was going to make Mr. Ashworth regret putting such an offer on this table. It was a shift in him, a simmering under the surface, like he had smoke for skin. And now, like a chameleon, he changed. Cassius’ sharp eyes, usually quick and darting, trailed slowly up to look at the other from the spot they had settled at his feet. He counted the seconds in his head — and made sure to linger just a hair too long on the Professor’s crotch. It wasn’t long, blink and you missed it. Up and up he continued till their gazes were  locked. Cassius looked up at him through dark eyelashes. 

In that moment, Cassius decided he wanted to haunt this man. 

“But if asking you nicely is really all it’s going to take,” Cassius was all edges, but he traded them out now for poisoned honey. “Then I think you should look at the cold hard evidence presented. Look at those actual times and consider the people. I think you’ll find it the team’s best interest, in your best interest,” his eyes casually flicked to his area of interest, “to reconsider your decision, Sir.” 

Your move. He replied.

JAMES

James gave a look, as though Cassius should know to expect nothing less from James than being given a choice of that caliber. And if he didn't know it yet then he did know it now. James was not one to be ruffled or trifled with. No, he'd been through dances like these before. Skirmishes of will power. Of trying to navigate and negotiate something one wanted and using nothing to bargain. He knew the tricks and there was a relative sort of ease with which he dexterously handled the other. It wasn't about classification, not really. It was an exciting grapple of minds. That's what got James in these encounters. 

He'd not lost many of times against someone trying to exercise their will over him. It was partly why he enjoyed being sponsor of Debate so much. He got to test his mental muscles and exercise them regularly. Same with his use of words and handling the mental landscape. It was something he felt helped him in his study and instruction of Dominance, too. If someone was perceptive enough to see what the situation required and have the manner and will to execute it...they already had a strong foundation for Dominance.

"Ah, ah," said James. He'd noticed the look Cassius gave toward his bulge. He wasn't made uncomfortable. They were all men here. Adult men. Studied men. Let him look. He wouldn't be the first. Yet, he wouldn't be the one to touch either. James would be sure of that. "That's not what I said." 

James wanted to stand in front of Cassius but he didn't. Just remained leaned against the desk with his arms crossed and blue gaze utterly comfortable. "I said you could ask nicely. What you did was suggest something to me." Did his lips curl up in the slightest smirk? Did his humor show in the near subtle arch of his brow? Did amusement color his tone? "I thought for sure you could do better than that..." he paused. "Can you?" He made it a question. He felt that boys like Cassius liked having the answer. "Would be a shame, if not."

CASSIUS

Oh this motherfucker wanted him to say ’Please.’ Now there was a foreign term for Cassius, but he was in it now. He was decided in his decision to haunt. Haunt he would. 

It’s clear goading. Cassius, for all his layers and intricacies, has one very obvious button and it was clear James had found it. Looked like he was having a little too much fun pushing it too if that smirk was anything to go off. That was a good sign for Cassius. More importantly, Professor Ashworth was in no way perturbed by Cassius’ wandering gaze, which made Cassius wonder how close he could get. 

He stood up, and moved to close the space between them. Till they were standing toe to toe. “Sounds like you’re looking for something very specific.” He licked his lips, grey blue eyes finding bright blue. “Kinda like you want me to beg for it.” 

Fingers danced forward till they met the fabric of slacks on Professor Ashworth’s thigh. 

“I’d like you to please reconsider your decision to let me onto this team, Sir.” 

That nice, enough for you? 

Truth be told, Cassius liked working for it. Nothing not struggled for was nothing truly earned. There was an element of fun to this, cat and mouse — though Cassius was still deciding though if James was worth the chase.

JAMES

James wasn't usually one to push like this. Only if he had a clear sense of his boundaries; but Cassius didn't seem the wilting flower type. He seemed to have just as much a backbone for this type of banter as anyone else. They were both adults though and James had set about handling Cassius, given the boy's sense of entitlement and his penchant for being bossy. 

He quirked a brow as Cassius moved to stand toe to toe. Whatever he was doing James was unbothered. He was merely curious to see where Cassius would try to take this. The fingers on his thigh had James glancing down before looking back up into Cassius' eyes. His fingers gently clasped around the man's hand on his thigh and rubbed a circle over the back of it before he patted it twice and set back at Cassius' side. 

"I appreciate the use of the title," said James. "And really...I can tell that must have taken something for you." James couldn't help the little lift to the corner of his mouth. He should accept the offered words. Really, they would have sufficed for anyone else. Though James wanted to see how well Cassius actually listened to direction and took to James' authority on matters such as this. 

In a way this was Cassius' second try out. He may not believe this was a team sport but that didn't mean he could do whatever he wanted. As his coach Cassius would have to listen to James. Would he heed him? Would he follow direction? Even if he didn't always like it? 

"But, again, that's not what I asked." James watched him. "That was another suggestion. Can you...ask me? Truly. Like you want to be on the team?" Let me hear it, he wanted to say. Let me know that this is what you want. Ask me for it. "We can take some time and revisit this conversation, if you'd like to think about it." 

This wasn't an all or nothing one time deal. He wasn't a monster. Cassius could wrestle with whatever he needed to and decide if it was worth it. But James had set his terms. It was up to Cassius to meet him where he stood.

CASSIUS

Fingers circled over his skin twice, far more intimate than they had any right to be considering the resounding “no” that the gesture ultimately screamed. The pat was almost comical. Cassius let out a sound that was half scoff, half laugh. 

The way he saw it, he’d given his offer. This guys loss if he wasn’t going to take it - and Cassius, as overwhelming as he was, was not the sort to force himself onto someone. People earned the punches they received without asking them for all the time, this was not the same for intimacy. 

“Oh now you’re just being difficult,” Cassius all but mocked. 

Still, he was no quitter. The hand that had been placed at his side clenched, still feeling the ghost of the fabric at the tips of his fingers. He supposed the process of elimination left him with no choice. He’d have to appeal to a Dom on a team. Fine. That was fine. Cassius could get away with punching one of them far easier. 

With a cheeky grin, that most certainly said this was not over, Cassius turned on his heel. 

“Let’s revisit it.” Cassius said, throwing the words over his shoulder as he grabbed his bag. He was already running through the team roster in his head. “Give me a second to really reflect on it, you know?” 

What? Did Mr. Ashworth really think he was going to be the one to inspire personal change in Cassius? No, not even the people Cassius loved could inspire that. Yeah, the professor could just deal with it when Cassius showed up on the team next week - on his own terms.

FIN

[domeverett]

liammacd​: @liammacd​

You’re sending out a lot of mixed signals here. Do you want restaurants? Do you want meal recommendations? Do you want someone to cook for you? Is this just a cry for help and you’re too proud to admit you’re lonely or inept and unable to use google without the help of your grandchildren?

Either way, it usually helps if you know the type of food people like before you start recommending them places to eat Sir.

`

On the contrary, I think the question was pretty clear. Any restaurant recommendations? 

I like to have a conversation. Or at least try to, when I can. So I figure sharing some information might encourage others to share some information back after answering my question. See? A conversation. 

Oh but where’s the fun in that? I’d love to know what you love. People recommend things they’re passionate about if you don’t box them in with guidelines.

Have you had the chance to venture out on the grounds much? There a food place around here that really hit a grand slam for you?

[domeverett]

carsonfck·: @carsonfck·

i’m just saying it’s a hell of a lot easier to just cook yourself dinner. 

yeah, dude, i don’t really care.

`

  You're probably right, but that's still not what I asked.

  Seems some part of you does, if you keep bothering to respond? Whoever you might be.

[domeverett]

carsonfck·: @carsonfck·

y’know, anyone i’ve ever met who wanted a homecooked meal has cooked themselves a meal. just saying.

`

  I'm aware of my options to cook myself, but that's not what I asked. I happen to have a submissive who cooks very well. Maybe I just miss his food.

I don't think we've met. I'm Professor James Ashworth. I teach Dominance I.