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In Jack’s experience, most art professors are nice but not even close to his type.
So when he walks into an Intro To Anatomical Drawing class with a professor he’s never worked with before, it takes him a minute to register that the older man leaning against a desk is the professor and not one of the students.
Because Jack immediately wants to climb him like a tree.
*****
Twenty minutes later, Professor Robinavitch (“No need to be so formal; the kids call me Dr Robby, but you can just call me Robby.”) has Jack set up and posed for the lesson, and Jack has to constantly remind himself not to move or follow Robby around the room like a lovesick puppy.
Robby had told Jack to pose however he wanted but to make sure he would be comfortable for an extended period of time. Jack hopes his face hadn’t given away the ridiculously bone deep disappointment he felt when he realized that Robby would not be moving him around like a doll.
Jack has been posing as a nude model for almost ten years and he's never been this attracted to anyone in the classes like this before. Actually, Jack has been alive for almost fifty years and he’s never been this attracted to anyone ever.
Robby is tall, with lanky legs in cargo pants and muscular arms covered in tattoos under the pushed up sleeves of his hoodie. The hoodie is oversized and hides his upper body, but Jack would bet his full leg that his chest is just as amazing as the rest of him.
Jack zones out for a few minutes, day dreaming about Robby’s beard against the inside of his thighs, about the tongue that peaks out a bit when he’s looking closely at a student’s work. When he tunes back in, a student directly to his left is asking a question about his muscles.
Robby makes his way over to Jack and lifts his hand, hovering over Jack’s side. Robby catches his eye, head tilted in question. “May I?”
Jack forgets how to breathe.
It’s not like Jack has never been touched before. Even outside of his personal life, professors and artists have moved him into position or touched him to highlight a feature on his body. Consent is implied in the contract he always signs and it’s unthinkingly used by teachers and students alike.
But no one has ever asked him for his consent in the moment. It’s surprisingly reaffirming that his body is still his own, even when everyone can see it, even when he’s offered it up for use by others. And certainly no one has asked for permission while gazing at him with liquid brown eyes.
Jack manages to croak out a yes, head moving up and down like one of those annoying bobbleheads sports teams give out at games. He has no idea what his face is doing, but it must be telling, because Robby gives him a reassuring smile before letting his hand touch Jack’s skin.
It’s entirely likely that Jack whimpers the second Robby’s warm hand lands on Jack’s side but he would never be sure as all of his senses narrow to the point of contact. Robby’s skin is calloused but not overly rough and the heat radiating from it is deeply therapeutic. He keeps his touch light as he runs his fingers along the interior oblique in Jack’s left side, his voice rumbling through Jack’s ears as he explains…something?…to the students around them.
Things get better worse better when Robby shifts slightly, fingers moving around to his latissimus dorsi in his lower back. The move pulls Robby closer to Jack and Robby uses his free hand to brace himself on Jack right hip, fingers flexing around his ilium.
Jack is floating. He knows he’s hard. He has to be; there’s no blood left in his brain.
“Are you okay?” Robby’s concerned voice penetrates the fog and Jack speaks without passing anything through a filter.
“Never better.”
There’s a pause and Jack spends it hoping that lightning will find a way to take him out.
Then he hears a low, warm laugh and he chances opening his eyes. Somehow, Robby has kept the students on task; they’re all focused on their work and NOT looking at Jack making a fool of himself.
Robby’s entire focus seems to be on Jack, however. Jack can see a blush under the beard, moving down under his shirt, but his eyes are crinkled in a delighted smile and his fingers are rubbing gentle circles into Jack’s skin.
That doesn’t mean he can resist a little teasing.
“There’s still an hour left of class. Think you can keep it together that long?”
Jack groans and gives up, letting his head thump against Robby’s chest. He makes a mental note that it seems like he’ll get to keep his remaining limbs because that chest feels delightful. “Shut up. Yes. Well. Probably.” Robby’s laugh moves through Jack and he shivers.
“How about we make a deal?” Jack perks up and lifts his head to meet Robby’s eyes. Despite having just met this man less than an hour ago, he knows whatever Robby is about to offer is going to be the start of something amazing.
“I could be persuaded. What kind of deal?”
Robby lifts the hand he’d originally used to trace Jack’s latissimus dorsi and wraps it around the back of his neck, kneading the trapezius. “You keep it in your metaphorical pants for the rest of class, and then, I’ll take you to dinner.” The thumb of his other hand does another sweep across his right ilium. “And after, I’ll see if I can give you another never better.”
Jack grins, doing another bobblehead impression. He has no doubt that Robby is capable of giving him another never better and then some. “Deal.”