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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Hot for Teacher Chapter 2
Fandom: IDEK what the hell this is any longer
Pairing: Gen… for now
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,953
Summary: Day two at the university isn’t any less stressful but a little bit more promising for Andrej.
Author’s Notes: Sassy Andy has made a return. I wonder if these alternate versions of Jay and Zayne can handle him?
Continued from here.
Letting himself into his small apartment off campus, Andrej collapsed into the first chair he saw. To say it had been a long day would be ridiculous. It had been an excruciatingly long and trying day and even that might have been an understatement. He kicked off his shoes and wondered if he had any food in the refrigerator that he could coerce into a meal. Not ready to bother with cooking quite yet, he decided to boot up his ailing laptop and see if his sister had emailed him. She’d insisted on knowing everything about his trip and what America was really like.
Andrej set the laptop on the coffee table and waited while it came to life. There were two messages in his university mailbox: one from his sister, Alina, and the other from a name that he vaguely recognized. Clicking open the message from his sister, Andrej took a moment to readjust to his native tongue, having spoken nothing but English and French all day. The Romanian was a welcome sight.
After hearing that all was well back home, that his brothers were healthy and the kids were causing trouble, he sent a quick reply, promising something lengthier over the weekend when he had more time. Staring at the second, lonely email still in his inbox, Andrej made a face. He couldn’t remember if this name was one of the many people he’d met or if it was merely a school official welcoming him to the team.
“Well,” he muttered in the quiet of his apartment. “There’s only one way to find out what Zayne Reyes has to say.”
He clicked on the email and read through it, the words brining to mind a picture of the man attached to the name. Tall and swarthy, Zayne had caught Andrej’s attention from the moment he’d first spoken. He carried a definite southern drawl, one that Andrej desperately hoped was Texas-centric. Growing up, he’d had a great fondness for the Old West which had led him to discover the American south and the fabulous, amazing, and irrefutably sexy cowboys that inhabited both. It made him wonder if this Zayne Reyes was simply a southerner or something more.
Could he be working alongside a real, live cowboy? A lump formed in his throat at the thought of the football coach in denims and a ten-gallon hat. His thoughts flew to the book he’d been reading at lunch – a gay, erotic cowboy romance – and cringed. He’d been lucky that the brunette – had her name been Hilary? – announced herself before she’d gotten close enough to see the title or book cover. Andrej had been told that there was more tolerance towards his kind here in the states, but he wasn’t willing to find out if that were true or not so early in his stay. Maybe he should take the advice of a friend of his in Paris and invest in an e-reader.
Andrej read the email again and frowned.
Hey,
I don’t know if you remember or not, but we met this morning. I was with that annoying redhead? Anyway, wanted to say that if you need anything or have any questions, let me know. I’m here to help. Oh, and that goes for things not related to work, too.
He signed the email with his name and phone number, leaving Andrej wondering if he was supposed to call, reply or both. Even more confusing to him was the tone of the email. It wasn’t nearly as professional as he’d expected. In all honestly, it was a little flirty and he didn’t know what to do with that because honestly? That tall drink of water was the last person he’d ever expect of being interested in another man. Especially a man like himself – nerdy, quiet, and way in over his head.
The other, however, was another story. Although not quite as tall as Zayne, the redhead was equally as handsome if in a different kind of way. He didn’t have that swaggering, seductive sort of sexy that the cowboy possessed, but he was alluring in an intellectual, long talks over coffee kind of way. Honestly, Andrej preferred the latter in a partner, but for a one night romp? Cowboy all the way.
“Încetează,” he scolded himself, trying to stop thinking along those lines about any of his co-workers. He had no proof that either of them was interested in him on anything but the most professional levels. And yet, the football coach had emailed him. God, American men were confusing.
Unsure of how to respond to Zayne’s email, Andrej closed his computer and decided to treat himself to take out. To hell with his budget for one lousy night. He’d reply when his belly was full of food.
**
Alina had returned his email by the time he’d gotten up. Her most pressing question was if he’d met anyone interesting or, better yet, cute, so far. Andrej sighed in frustration at the two very attractive, very interesting men he’d encountered the day before. She was going to have to wait until he had more information on them both before he said anything. The last thing he needed was his little sister pestering him from the other side of the Atlantic about his non-existent love life.
He shoved his laptop into his messenger bag and forced himself to face another workday. Everyone he’d run into during the course of his day yesterday – a handful of students included – swore that it’d get easier as time went on. All he could do was pray that they were right.
On the upside, he did manage to find his office on his own that morning with only one minor detour that turned out to be a shortcut in the end. But on the downside, he didn’t manage to run into either of his pretty new friends either. Andrej set his bag on the desk and struggled to remove the laptop without dumping everything else out, too.
A pair of pale hands steadied the bag, allowing Andrej to get the computer out and avoiding catastrophe. He looked up and found the redhead smiling at him. “Mulțumiri,” Andrej said, not realizing he’d slipped back into his native tongue.
“Don’t you mean ‘merci’,” the redhead teased.
“I am sorry,” Andrej said, feeling inane for failing to respond in English. It was one of the pitfalls of being trilingual, he supposed. “I was emailing my sister this morning and she does not speak any English. Or French, for that matter.”
“Don’t stress it,” James said, waving the apology away. “Whatever the language, thank you is still a thank you.”
“Are you sure he was thanking you, gingerbread?”
Andrej started at the sound of that honeyed voice. If they didn’t stop double teaming him like this, he was going to have a nervous breakdown before Thanksgiving. Zayne leaned against the doorway to his office, smiling and looking deliciously edible in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He trained his gaze on James and confirmed that he, at least, was dressed as a professor in navy dress slacks, a crisp white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A lavender tie completed his outfit and made Andrej wonder if there was a navy jacket stashed in his office.
“Is there – is there something I can help you gentlemen with this morning,” Andrej asked, trying anything to draw his attention away from the way James’ shirt sleeves hugged his biceps or how Zayne’s sweats hung low on his hips. “My first class is at half to eight.”
“What,” Zayne asked, standing up straight and moving into the office. “Is that half past eight or is it seven thirty?”
James glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to eight now, so he must mean eight thirty.”
Confused by their conversation, Andrej glanced up at the clock on the wall. “In approximately forty-five minutes, whatever time that is to you Americans.”
“I think we hit a sensitive subject, red,” Zayne joked.
Narrowing his eyes, Andrej focused on Zayne. “I know my English is not perfect, but it is as best as I can get it.” Attempting to tamp down the anger and humiliation burbling up inside him, Andrej turned to James. “It is bad enough that my students make fun of my English, I do not need to hear it from the teachers as well.” He was tempted to ask them how many languages they spoke, but he figured they were lucky to manage English most days.
“Ouch,” Zayne said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess that’s my cue to leave. I have a nine o’clock CrossFit class as it is. See you guys later.”
They watched Zayne leave the office. Andrej felt his eyes drawn to Zayne’s exiting ass and hated himself for giving in. But the view was worth any harsh words he might have with himself later over this fiasco.
“We didn’t mean to make fun of you,” James said, bringing Andrej back into the present. “As an English professor, it’s a habit to correct anyone’s English, even my own. Tell me if I get to be obnoxious about it. That jerk always does.”
He felt like a fool for snapping at them over their little joke, but he was extremely sensitive about things like this. He’d been teased and harassed in Paris about his accent and how it made their beautiful language sound harsh and ugly. “I didn’t mean to get so angry, James,” he said, looking at the top of his desk. “I can be overtly – overly – sensitive to things sometimes.”
“Completely understandable,” James said, resting a hand on top of Andrej’s. It rested in place for a handful of heartbeats before withdrawing. “When is your last class before lunch?”
He pulled his planner out of the messenger bag and looked at the schedule he’d inked on the first page. “French I lets out at – how did you say it? – eleven thirty? My next class does not begin until two.”
Nodding, James smiled. “Meet me at my office at eleven forty-five?”
“Why?”
James’ smile widened. “So we can have lunch together,” he said. “Why else?”
Andrej rested both hands on his desk and shook his head. “That is a good question. One I do not have an answer to yet because in my experiences so far, Americans can be very, very odd.”
“Yes, we definitely can be,” James agreed. “So, lunch. Eleven forty-five.”
“I will be there,” he said, straightening to his full height. He was slightly taller than the redhead, but he believed that he wasn’t quite as tall as Zayne either. A thought came to him then. “James? A question?”
“Sure,” he said, stopping halfway through the doorway.
“Out of curiosity, where is Zayne from?”
Frowning, James took a moment before answering. “Texas,” he said. “Why?”
“My sister is looking for a real live cowboy,” he said, chuckling. “We grew up with too many old westerns, I think.”
The worry melted off James’ face. “Tell your sister that she deserves better than that rapscallion.”
“I shall tell her,” he said, secretly pleased that his love of romance novels had finally proved useful to his daily life. How else would he have ever had a clue what a rapscallion was?
James gave a little wave and headed down the hallway towards his office and the lecture halls used by the English department. Andrej gave the clock another quick check and gathered what he needed for his first class. As anxious as he suddenly was for lunch, he prepared himself for another long morning. Although this time, time would be dragging rather than skidding across the pavement like an out of control truck.
This silliness ends here.
Fandom: IDEK what the hell this is any longer
Pairing: Gen… for now
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,953
Summary: Day two at the university isn’t any less stressful but a little bit more promising for Andrej.
Author’s Notes: Sassy Andy has made a return. I wonder if these alternate versions of Jay and Zayne can handle him?
Continued from here.
Letting himself into his small apartment off campus, Andrej collapsed into the first chair he saw. To say it had been a long day would be ridiculous. It had been an excruciatingly long and trying day and even that might have been an understatement. He kicked off his shoes and wondered if he had any food in the refrigerator that he could coerce into a meal. Not ready to bother with cooking quite yet, he decided to boot up his ailing laptop and see if his sister had emailed him. She’d insisted on knowing everything about his trip and what America was really like.
Andrej set the laptop on the coffee table and waited while it came to life. There were two messages in his university mailbox: one from his sister, Alina, and the other from a name that he vaguely recognized. Clicking open the message from his sister, Andrej took a moment to readjust to his native tongue, having spoken nothing but English and French all day. The Romanian was a welcome sight.
After hearing that all was well back home, that his brothers were healthy and the kids were causing trouble, he sent a quick reply, promising something lengthier over the weekend when he had more time. Staring at the second, lonely email still in his inbox, Andrej made a face. He couldn’t remember if this name was one of the many people he’d met or if it was merely a school official welcoming him to the team.
“Well,” he muttered in the quiet of his apartment. “There’s only one way to find out what Zayne Reyes has to say.”
He clicked on the email and read through it, the words brining to mind a picture of the man attached to the name. Tall and swarthy, Zayne had caught Andrej’s attention from the moment he’d first spoken. He carried a definite southern drawl, one that Andrej desperately hoped was Texas-centric. Growing up, he’d had a great fondness for the Old West which had led him to discover the American south and the fabulous, amazing, and irrefutably sexy cowboys that inhabited both. It made him wonder if this Zayne Reyes was simply a southerner or something more.
Could he be working alongside a real, live cowboy? A lump formed in his throat at the thought of the football coach in denims and a ten-gallon hat. His thoughts flew to the book he’d been reading at lunch – a gay, erotic cowboy romance – and cringed. He’d been lucky that the brunette – had her name been Hilary? – announced herself before she’d gotten close enough to see the title or book cover. Andrej had been told that there was more tolerance towards his kind here in the states, but he wasn’t willing to find out if that were true or not so early in his stay. Maybe he should take the advice of a friend of his in Paris and invest in an e-reader.
Andrej read the email again and frowned.
Hey,
I don’t know if you remember or not, but we met this morning. I was with that annoying redhead? Anyway, wanted to say that if you need anything or have any questions, let me know. I’m here to help. Oh, and that goes for things not related to work, too.
He signed the email with his name and phone number, leaving Andrej wondering if he was supposed to call, reply or both. Even more confusing to him was the tone of the email. It wasn’t nearly as professional as he’d expected. In all honestly, it was a little flirty and he didn’t know what to do with that because honestly? That tall drink of water was the last person he’d ever expect of being interested in another man. Especially a man like himself – nerdy, quiet, and way in over his head.
The other, however, was another story. Although not quite as tall as Zayne, the redhead was equally as handsome if in a different kind of way. He didn’t have that swaggering, seductive sort of sexy that the cowboy possessed, but he was alluring in an intellectual, long talks over coffee kind of way. Honestly, Andrej preferred the latter in a partner, but for a one night romp? Cowboy all the way.
“Încetează,” he scolded himself, trying to stop thinking along those lines about any of his co-workers. He had no proof that either of them was interested in him on anything but the most professional levels. And yet, the football coach had emailed him. God, American men were confusing.
Unsure of how to respond to Zayne’s email, Andrej closed his computer and decided to treat himself to take out. To hell with his budget for one lousy night. He’d reply when his belly was full of food.
**
Alina had returned his email by the time he’d gotten up. Her most pressing question was if he’d met anyone interesting or, better yet, cute, so far. Andrej sighed in frustration at the two very attractive, very interesting men he’d encountered the day before. She was going to have to wait until he had more information on them both before he said anything. The last thing he needed was his little sister pestering him from the other side of the Atlantic about his non-existent love life.
He shoved his laptop into his messenger bag and forced himself to face another workday. Everyone he’d run into during the course of his day yesterday – a handful of students included – swore that it’d get easier as time went on. All he could do was pray that they were right.
On the upside, he did manage to find his office on his own that morning with only one minor detour that turned out to be a shortcut in the end. But on the downside, he didn’t manage to run into either of his pretty new friends either. Andrej set his bag on the desk and struggled to remove the laptop without dumping everything else out, too.
A pair of pale hands steadied the bag, allowing Andrej to get the computer out and avoiding catastrophe. He looked up and found the redhead smiling at him. “Mulțumiri,” Andrej said, not realizing he’d slipped back into his native tongue.
“Don’t you mean ‘merci’,” the redhead teased.
“I am sorry,” Andrej said, feeling inane for failing to respond in English. It was one of the pitfalls of being trilingual, he supposed. “I was emailing my sister this morning and she does not speak any English. Or French, for that matter.”
“Don’t stress it,” James said, waving the apology away. “Whatever the language, thank you is still a thank you.”
“Are you sure he was thanking you, gingerbread?”
Andrej started at the sound of that honeyed voice. If they didn’t stop double teaming him like this, he was going to have a nervous breakdown before Thanksgiving. Zayne leaned against the doorway to his office, smiling and looking deliciously edible in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He trained his gaze on James and confirmed that he, at least, was dressed as a professor in navy dress slacks, a crisp white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A lavender tie completed his outfit and made Andrej wonder if there was a navy jacket stashed in his office.
“Is there – is there something I can help you gentlemen with this morning,” Andrej asked, trying anything to draw his attention away from the way James’ shirt sleeves hugged his biceps or how Zayne’s sweats hung low on his hips. “My first class is at half to eight.”
“What,” Zayne asked, standing up straight and moving into the office. “Is that half past eight or is it seven thirty?”
James glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to eight now, so he must mean eight thirty.”
Confused by their conversation, Andrej glanced up at the clock on the wall. “In approximately forty-five minutes, whatever time that is to you Americans.”
“I think we hit a sensitive subject, red,” Zayne joked.
Narrowing his eyes, Andrej focused on Zayne. “I know my English is not perfect, but it is as best as I can get it.” Attempting to tamp down the anger and humiliation burbling up inside him, Andrej turned to James. “It is bad enough that my students make fun of my English, I do not need to hear it from the teachers as well.” He was tempted to ask them how many languages they spoke, but he figured they were lucky to manage English most days.
“Ouch,” Zayne said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess that’s my cue to leave. I have a nine o’clock CrossFit class as it is. See you guys later.”
They watched Zayne leave the office. Andrej felt his eyes drawn to Zayne’s exiting ass and hated himself for giving in. But the view was worth any harsh words he might have with himself later over this fiasco.
“We didn’t mean to make fun of you,” James said, bringing Andrej back into the present. “As an English professor, it’s a habit to correct anyone’s English, even my own. Tell me if I get to be obnoxious about it. That jerk always does.”
He felt like a fool for snapping at them over their little joke, but he was extremely sensitive about things like this. He’d been teased and harassed in Paris about his accent and how it made their beautiful language sound harsh and ugly. “I didn’t mean to get so angry, James,” he said, looking at the top of his desk. “I can be overtly – overly – sensitive to things sometimes.”
“Completely understandable,” James said, resting a hand on top of Andrej’s. It rested in place for a handful of heartbeats before withdrawing. “When is your last class before lunch?”
He pulled his planner out of the messenger bag and looked at the schedule he’d inked on the first page. “French I lets out at – how did you say it? – eleven thirty? My next class does not begin until two.”
Nodding, James smiled. “Meet me at my office at eleven forty-five?”
“Why?”
James’ smile widened. “So we can have lunch together,” he said. “Why else?”
Andrej rested both hands on his desk and shook his head. “That is a good question. One I do not have an answer to yet because in my experiences so far, Americans can be very, very odd.”
“Yes, we definitely can be,” James agreed. “So, lunch. Eleven forty-five.”
“I will be there,” he said, straightening to his full height. He was slightly taller than the redhead, but he believed that he wasn’t quite as tall as Zayne either. A thought came to him then. “James? A question?”
“Sure,” he said, stopping halfway through the doorway.
“Out of curiosity, where is Zayne from?”
Frowning, James took a moment before answering. “Texas,” he said. “Why?”
“My sister is looking for a real live cowboy,” he said, chuckling. “We grew up with too many old westerns, I think.”
The worry melted off James’ face. “Tell your sister that she deserves better than that rapscallion.”
“I shall tell her,” he said, secretly pleased that his love of romance novels had finally proved useful to his daily life. How else would he have ever had a clue what a rapscallion was?
James gave a little wave and headed down the hallway towards his office and the lecture halls used by the English department. Andrej gave the clock another quick check and gathered what he needed for his first class. As anxious as he suddenly was for lunch, he prepared himself for another long morning. Although this time, time would be dragging rather than skidding across the pavement like an out of control truck.
This silliness ends here.
