Chapter Text
A hand glides smoothly over the metallic surface. Up and down, following its own rhythm. The right leg slowly coils around the pole, twirling his body around its axis. His back arches like a cat's. Hips sway fluidly to each beat of the music in the background, while the colourful lighting gradually shifts from cool hues to warmer ones. Each outgoing beam dances on his bare torso. Hands grip the metal, lifting his body with strength and jumping to the top of the pole, performing several graceful spins.
One.
Two.
Three.
He releases his hands from the cool surface, leaning completely back and hanging upside down. The spinning doesn’t stop for a second, slightly tousling his short curls and showcasing the tense muscles of his body.
His body moves in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the seductive background music, with each light transition, with each ragged breath. Movements filled with boiling emotions, screaming "Look at me, please, look." Fingers gently clasp the metal once again, as if wanting to feel every detail, every irregularity.
He seemed to float in this atmosphere.
bzzzz-bzzzz
The abrupt vibration of the phone made Regulus press the pause button on the video playing on his laptop and reach for the device. Opening the freshly received message, he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
Barty
Have you submitted the assignment to Mr. Sexy yet? The deadline is tomorrow
Mr. Sexy - a.k.a. Mr. Potter - was their Fundamentals of Cinematography teacher. A subject Regulus had chosen in addition to his art specialisation. After finishing school, he enrolled in the Faculty of Culture and Arts, finally breaking free from the ever-watchful eyes of his parents and moving to the capital in search of himself and his calling.
It was his first year of study, and he was genuinely happy with his choice of program. His parents were absolutely against their son enrolling in such a specialisation, considering it foolish and unlikely to lead to any significant achievements in life. Given that his older brother had completely refused to attend university, opting for round-the-world travels instead of tedious lectures, the expectations for Regulus and his choice of future were twice as strict. To avoid making the same mistakes again.
However, in the end it was Sirius who helped him let go of the nagging, screaming expectations of his parents and choose his own path. That's how Regulus ended up at one of the capital's universities of his dreams.
Returning to the message that had interrupted him, he reread the words on the glowing phone screen and sighed heavily. Mr. Sex- Mr. Potter (Regulus mentally corrected himself) had assigned them to spend an entire day outdoors, continuously filming the same shot to track how the sun's trajectory affected lighting during filming, and then choose the best time of day in their opinion. If he was honest, the assignments they were given were rather dull by his standards. Though he understood that they needed to grasp all the essential basics before moving on to more complex tasks. He had completed it last week but had not sent it to the teacher yet, being distracted by other, more pressing matters.
Despite everything, he enjoyed the Fundamentals of Cinematography. Moreover, all his classmates liked the subject. And it wasn't just because of the academic material they were given.
It was all because of the teacher.
It all started with the very first lecture when the group attended the unfamiliar class, expecting the worst. Most of their teachers were very meticulous and pedantic about their subjects, strict and demanding, expecting perfection even from the still-adapting freshmen that they were. But Mr. Potter turned out to be the complete opposite of all their worst expectations. Moreover, their teacher surpassed every possible expectation, going beyond the students' imaginations and winning them over from the very first moments.
The man burst into the classroom like a tornado, inadvertently tripping over his own feet and dropping printed sheets of paper. The previously tense group barely stifled their giggles, still trying to act cautiously to avoid the professor's wrath. But instead of a scowl, the man flashed one of the most charming smiles Regulus had ever seen. He casually waved his hand in the air, saying, "Come on, don't be shy. I’d laugh at myself too if I were in your place. However," the teacher paused, eyeing the group with a sly and conspiratorial look, "I want you to come to my classes in this mood from now on. There’s no place for sour faces in our lessons. And I’m not going to make a fool of myself every time just to cheer you up and get rid of those rabbit-in-the-headlights expressions." He pointed a finger sternly at the students, not losing his bright smile and once again elicited a wave of laughter that echoed throughout the room.
"Cute," Regulus thought then, and he didn’t even notice a small smile forming on his own face.
Their teacher was impossibly kind and cheerful, constantly filling the entire group with positivity and motivating them to actively participate in discussions. Oh, their discussions were one of the things that set this subject apart from all the others. Even during lectures, they spent most of their time discussing the material orally and comparing their different viewpoints rather than mindlessly jotting down notes dictated by the professor.
Another thing that set this subject apart from the rest was that every class was like eye candy. The most delightful and hottest eye candy.
Setting aside the teacher’s sunny personality, one couldn’t ignore how incredibly attractive he was. Attractive and hot. It was a crime to allow such people to teach in educational institutions. Regulus often found himself staring at their professor for half the class. At his muscular arms and the prominent veins running from his forearm to his large hands. Regulus wondered how tightly those hands could squeeze his neck. He shamelessly ogled the professor's chest, whose contours were visible even under a thick shirt. And his face… Regulus' gaze was magnetically drawn to the almost always smiling lips.
There were times when his own grey eyes unexpectedly met warm, honey-brown ones that seemed to look straight into his soul. It was as if the man knew that Regulus was shamelessly drooling, missing everything being said in the classroom. Their eyes met often, seemingly more and more with each passing lesson. Initially, Regulus would awkwardly look away, embarrassed, but over time, catching the curious gaze from beneath round glasses, he continued to look until the teacher was the first to avert his eyes, turning to address another student's question.
After each such time, he felt his whole body become electrified, and the tips of his fingers would start to tremble convulsively.
His classmate, Emma, had already learned all the personal information about their hot teacher within the first week of classes. The most unpleasant thing, which made Regulus want to hit himself on the head because of the wrongness of his wet fantasies, was not that the man was his teacher, or that he was 12 years older than Regulus. No, it was none of that. It was the giant pink elephant that was always in the room with them.
From the very first class, all the students noticed not only their professor’s captivating smile but also the wedding band on his finger. He was married.
Emma somehow managed to find out that Mr. Potter’s wife was the chief surgeon at some hospital in London. Regulus had no idea how she obtained such information and therefore couldn’t trust everything the girl said. However, the fact remained: their super hot professor was super married. To Regulus' surprise, the realisation brought a hint of mild melancholy each time. It was funny, considering it’s not like he had any chance. He was just one of many students.
But Regulus was certainly not one of those students who leave everything until the last minute and neglect their studies. On the contrary,he was in the top list of his group’s academic performance. But if Barty hadn't reminded him of the assignment deadline, he likely would have forgotten that it needed to be submitted. So, in a way, he was grateful to his friend. Though he would hardly ever admit it.
Regulus typed a brief “yes ” in response to his friend, indicating that he had submitted the assignment a long time ago, feeling not a shred of guilt for the blatant lie. Then he turned off his phone and shifted his attention back to the frozen image on his laptop screen.
Before he was distracted by his classmate's message, Regulus had been reviewing a video he had filmed during his class. A pole dance class.
Don’t even ask. He still couldn’t believe he agreed to this.
The culprit was Dorcas, his childhood friend, who, like him, had moved to the capital but a year earlier. Three months ago, the girl had incessantly talked his ear off about a hot pole dance instructor. His friend never admitted how she had heard about her in the first place, but she nagged him incessantly, persuading him to come to a class with her for support.
Regulus and support. Hilarious.
Unable to withstand such pressure (or rather manipulation) from Dorcas, he eventually agreed. But with the condition that he would go only once, and after that, she could do whatever she wanted.
However, one time turned into two. And two into three. And Regulus didn’t even notice how it had become his new hobby.
The very instructor with whom Dorcas had been flirting throughout the class, Marlene, began praising his potential and admiring his natural flexibility. Dorcas frowned disapprovingly at the compliments Marlene showered on him, while Regulus smiled contentedly, knowing that his ballet background was still evident.
He enjoyed losing himself in the dance and the sensations it brought. All thoughts vanished, leaving only the rhythm of the music and his body melding into a single performance. So, it really had become his new hobby. Marlene had suggested recording each class on video to track progress and correct mistakes.
And that’s exactly what he had been doing. His laptop now had a whole folder with videos from almost every training session. As he reviewed the footage from yesterday’s practice, he smiled contentedly. For the first time, he genuinely liked what he saw.
But setting that aside, the boy opened his browser and went to his email to send the completed assignment to his professor. Quickly checking the university group chat for Mr. Sexy's email address (as everyone called him behind his back, of course), he copied the necessary letters and pasted them into the "To" field.
Regulus snorted involuntarily. What a silly email address.
Sighing heavily, he shifted his gaze to the ticking clock on his desk, realising it was already late at night. Regulus paused for a moment, wondering if it was right and proper to send the assignment so late. Maybe he should do it early in the morning? Would he forget? Though, it was just an email. Their teacher was probably already asleep and would check his incoming messages in the morning anyway, so it didn’t really matter when it was sent.
Running his hand through his still-damp curls from the shower, Regulus began typing the message:
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am sending you the completed assignment with the best-selected shots. I hope that the result will bring you as much pleasure as the filming process brought me. I would be immensely grateful for any feedback, which will undoubtedly help me grow and develop further.
Sincerely,
Regulus Arcturus Black
Finishing the text, he read it over again, pondering whether he should add anything more. Closing his eyes, he rubbed them wearily, understanding that flattery was unlikely to earn him extra points, and besides, he wasn’t the type of student to do that.
Deciding it was more than enough, he clicked the “attach file” button, searching among the ten open windows of various applications for the needed video in his file explorer. Despite his usual organisation in daily life, Regulus' laptop was an exception to the rule, where chaos and confusion reigned.
Moving the video player to the side of the screen, he clicked on the video of nature shots he needed and wearily rested his head on the desk, waiting for the file to upload. It was almost one in the morning, and although he didn’t feel sleepy due to the cup of coffee he’d had three hours ago, Regulus was slightly exhausted. Nearly four months into his studies, and even though it was only the first year, it had been anything but easy. Fortunately, he had a private room in the dorm and could maintain whatever sleep schedule he wanted without worrying about disturbing any neighbours.
Lifting his head from the wooden surface and noticing with tired eyes that the file was attached to his email, Regulus clicked the "Send " button.
He glanced at the bed behind him and then back at the screen, contemplating whether he should go to sleep now, but froze in place upon noticing something strange.
The email was in the middle of sending, slowly uploading due to the dorm’s slow Wi-Fi. But his eyes were glued to the title of the video he was sending.
3jW7QfZqK1u4rXm7hP2.mp4
What? He thought he had renamed the file so he wouldn’t get confused about which was the final version.
Wait a minute…
Oh no.
“No, no, no…” Regulus started frantically clicking the “Cancel ” button, but his actions were futile, leaving him to watch in panic as the blue sending bar crawled along.
No…
80%
He was chaotically pressing the delete key and trying to refresh the page, hoping to disrupt the sending process. His laptop seemed to be mocking him, not responding to any of his attempts.
95%
97%
99%
Fuck, no.
Final attempts to halt the inevitable and blue fingers from the countless keystrokes. Regulus couldn’t stop either himself or the sending process.
100%
“Sent!”
What did he do…
He clicked on the attached video to the email with horror, already knowing exactly what he would see.
Familiar scenes, with the melody and movements that had probably already been imprinted on his mind. Hand up, down. Hip movement. Right leg, left. Arch. Circular motions. Hands caressing either the pole or his bare body. Bare body in nothing but tiny shorts that looked more like underwear.
Fuck.
He was so screwed.
Panic began to overwhelm him as he realised what he had done.
How did this even happen? How had he attached a completely different video when he clearly remembered selecting the clips for the university assignment?
Deep inhale. Deep exhale.
Breathe, Regulus.
He needed to figure out how to delete the email from someone else’s inbox overnight. God, why wasn’t there a feature in email like in messaging apps to delete a message from both parties? Why was life tormenting him? What was he supposed to do now?
Regulus, breathing erratically, began searching the internet for any information that might help him avoid the biggest embarrassment of his life. Maybe there was still a way out? Although faint, he didn’t lose hope entirely.
The more he browsed through various articles on what to do in such a situation, the more his hope dwindled, leaving only despair and emptiness. All of them unanimously stated that once an email was sent, it was impossible to delete it.
That was it.
It was the end.
Regulus could already picture the professor waking up in the morning, checking his email over breakfast, choking on his coffee at the sight of it, and then bursting into melodious laughter. How could he ever look him in the eye again? Those eyes that always warmed him like gentle rays of sunshine.
Perhaps the email might end up in his spam folder, and he would never know about it? Regulus hoped for that, though he understood the chances were nearly zero.
His panic continued, intertwining with anxiety and a sense of self-recrimination. Forget about sleep. And when he opened the email tab again, his heart gave a sharp jolt and froze for a few seconds, as if refusing to participate in this at all.
In bold text, amidst the faint headlines, a new message received just a minute ago stood out in the first line. From [email protected]
Fuck.
Regulus slammed his laptop shut, jumping out of his chair and pacing back and forth around the room in a chaotic manner.
Things were bad.
If, throughout the night, he had at least hoped that he might somehow resolve this or come up with a somewhat decent excuse, now he had nothing left.
Why the hell wasn't the man asleep at this hour?
This was, without exaggeration, one of the worst moments of his life. It was one thing to be humiliated in front of an ordinary professor, but this was the very man who haunted his wet dreams. The same man Regulus privately called a Greek god descended from Olympus to mingle with mere mortals. The same man who was like the forbidden apple of temptation in the Garden of Eden.
Damn.
More than anything in the world, he wanted to throw his laptop out the window and forget everything that had happened. But he couldn’t do that. So, like a cornered animal, he cautiously approached the desk again, opening the screen to read what the professor had written.
Dear Mr. Black,
I see that you have accidentally sent me the wrong file. I do believe that it was a pure accident, and I trust that you will send me the correct file soon. I look forward to receiving your task.
Well, of course, what else would he expect from this kind man? He knew the professor wouldn’t mock him, but that didn’t make it any easier to look him in the eye.
With still slightly trembling hands, he began to attach the new file, this time the correct one (he checked it at least 20 times if not more), and making sure everything was in order, he pressed the " Send " button. He even forgot to write anything or apologise. Now he would definitely have to face the music and apologise in person tomorrow.
Barty would die of laughter if he found out about this.
Regulus turned away from the desk, approaching the bed and straightening the covers. His only desire at the moment was to simply wrap himself in the blanket like a cocoon and hide from the terrible reality.
He took his laptop to bed, hoping to find information on how to erase the last few hours from his memory. Settling comfortably in, he saw there was a new message in his inbox. His body had no more energy for panic or worry, so he just opened the email apathetically.
Good video, almost as good as the first one.
…
What?
Regulus felt his cheeks flush with colour. Was he... Was this what he thought it was? The pounding of his heartbeat was once again echoing in his ears, a wave of adrenaline coursing through his body. He must have misunderstood. Right?
Deciding that nothing could possibly be worse, and it was unlikely to get any worse, he asked,
Did you like the first one better?
Congratulations, today was a day of foolish decisions in Regulus Black's life. He was praying that someone would disconnect his internet at that moment.
The page refreshed, showing a new message.
It definitely… catches the eye.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Was this some sort of fever dream? Maybe he was lying in a hospital somewhere in a coma? Regulus was sure he was reading between the lines something that wasn’t there. No matter how much he fantasises about his professor looking at him and thinking of the same indecent things that he did, Regulus was a realist and knew these were just foolish fantasies.
Wasn't it?
How so?
His fingers moved faster than his mind, and without proceeding, he had already sent the next message.
In a perfect world, he should have simply apologised and shut down his laptop right away. Then he would spend the whole night endlessly spiralling into self-recrimination. He would apologise tomorrow, mumbling and stumbling over his nerves. But he would do it anyway. And he would never look his professor in the eye again. Regulus would drop the subject. Better yet, he would transfer to another university. Another city. Another country.
Well, the angle, the lighting, the music – the composition is perfectly arranged. It’s hard to take your eyes off it.
His mouth fell open as he stared at the glowing screen. The angle, the lighting, and the music?
Was he serious?
He had the impression that his professor was also treading carefully around... whatever it was... Artfully choosing his words, not crossing any lines.
His body literally vibrated from what was happening. And the strangest part was that, in reality, nothing was really happening . He was probably just continuing to embarrass himself and amuse the professor. Deciding to turn it into a joke and end it, he wrote:
Well, thanks. I’ll know what kind of videos to submit next time.
The response came in a minute, sending shivers down his spine.
Oh, please do. I’m always up for creativity and initiative 😉
Regulus bit his lip, considering the idea that had instantly sparked in his mind. He was 99% sure that the man was just trying to smooth over the awkwardness of the situation, flattering him with nonsense, and making him believe that everything was fine and that sending a video of himself dancing almost naked on a pole was normal.
But damn it, that 1%...
Considering how his actions might exacerbate and worsen the situation, he muttered a quiet curse, running his hand through his curls. The image of his teacher’s perpetually tousled hair immediately flashed in his mind. Regulus always wanted to bury his hand in it, gripping it firmly and...
Shoving aside the last remnants of reason, he mumbled a soft “God, what am I doing?” and clicked on the reply button, attaching a different file to the email. Without giving himself time for doubts, he just hit send as soon as the video was uploaded.
Regulus closed his laptop again, tossing it aside and burying his head under the pillow.
Why did he do that?
Why was he so desperately waiting for a reaction? He couldn’t even be sure if there would be any response or if it would be positive.
Did he crave attention that much? He might as well have sent the videos to Barty, who would likely be at his door within five minutes. He’d seen what kind of looks his friend was throwing at him when he thought he wasn’t watching. Regulus wasn’t stupid.
But apparently, he was. Otherwise, there was no other way to explain his reasons for acting this way.
Unlike the previous messages, the response didn’t come immediately. Every minute, every second without a reply made him regret more and more what he had done.
Idiot. What an idiot. Of course, the previous message meant nothing and was just to smooth over the situation. But no, he had to ruin everything by sending another video, which could no longer be passed off as a coincidence.
He was ready to bang his head against the wall in despair but froze when he finally saw a new message in his inbox. Swallowing heavily, his hand reached for the touchpad to open the next verdict.
Fuck
Um, okay... And what did that mean?
Regulus' head felt like a beehive of angry bees, buzzing thoughts and emotional swings. He didn’t understand what was happening.
Does that mean… you liked it?
The boy bit his lip in anticipation, as if he was asleep. Everything felt so surreal.
Liked it? I can’t stop rewatching it
A foggy head, numb limbs, a tight knot in his lower abdomen — Regulus hadn’t felt so much all at once in a long time.
The second video he sent was also from his dance training but with different choreography. When Dorcas saw it, she whistled loudly and swore that if she wasn’t a lesbian, she’d definitely be on her knees.
This choreography was more sensual. It had more fluidity, more curves. More of his alluring hands all over his body. More, more, more. He wanted to push everything to the limit.
And the fact that the man reacted this way to the video made Regulus' whole body tremble. Tremble with anticipation.
More.
He wanted more.
Still admiring the lighting and angles?
No. You.
God. The blood was flowing steadily, from his cheeks down to his groin.
Hot.
Burning.
Really? And what exactly?
He couldn’t stop asking. He wanted to hear more. To believe that it was true, that his eyes weren’t deceiving him and that this wasn’t just another enticing dream.
Your movements, your body. The way you arch so pliantly… as if trained. How your hands slide along the pole…
His mouth went dry.
He urgently needed to moisten his mouth with water. Or with something else…
Do you like how my hands slide? Up and down?
Yes... it makes the imagination run wild...
Oh, the man had no idea how often this played out in his fantasies and how much he thought about it.
Are you imagining my hands sliding down your body? How could they wrap around your cock?
Jesus, what was he doing? He can no longer think sensibly, in his head only one desire. The desire to touch, to caress, to bend.
Fuck, you made me so hard. Do you realise that?
Regulus’ mouth was filled with saliva as his eyes were wading through the words. He could feel how his pants had become too tight a long time ago.
His hand slowly slid down, grasping at the fabric and pulling it down, completely freeing the body from unnecessary clothing. The tip of his fingers moved lightly over the head of his dick. Regulus couldn’t even stop the soft moan that came off his lips.
Wish I could fix it
Yeah? Any suggestions?
Oh, there was an overwhelming number of suggestions for him in Regulus’ head. From the most harmless to... He wanted to try them all. He wanted to know if a man wanted the same.
You can open the video that you liked that much, and imagine how I’ll squirm over your dick and touch yourself in the process.
Regulus' hand slowly moved along the length of his cock, gradually sliding down and teasing with fingers the ring of muscles. His whole palm was covered in sticky liquid that oozed out of his dick’s tip, so it would be very easy for him to start fucking himself with his fingers. He was literally all leaking and soaked. At that moment, Regulus wanted to be on the man’s cock more than anything in the world.
Fuck want you so bad. How could you say such things to me? Can’t stop looking at you… Gosh, such a sight
Regulus was constantly moaning, reading such arousing words, he did not have time to respond as a new message arrived.
Would you ride me as well as this pole, wouldn’t you?
Fucking hell.
Regulus wanted only to scream nonchalantly “yes, yes, yes.”
Yes, would love it if you could fill me all up…
He was not even in control of what he wrote, allowing his thoughts to be unthinkingly typed.
So needy. Always giving me those pretty eyes of yours. Want to make them roll all the time
Yeah? And how you’re gonna make my eyes roll?
Filling up your delicate body, just like you asked
Regulus bit the knuckles on his palm from a loud whine that had broken out unintentionally. It was too much. Too much that he thought he was going to explode. It felt like he was ready to come just from these words.
It was too much, but… Dear God, how he wanted more.
His fingers had long since found their place, stretching and fucking his pinky hole in need. His hips were rhythmically thrusting toward, desperate whimpering coming out from his lips. The legs were so wide open and so inviting to take him all.
Regulus’ head was clouded by the images of the older man. His body, which he had spent so many hours ogling. He sorely wanted to lick every inch of it, leaving his mark on every spot. Regulus wanted him to leave marks on his body. He wanted to see the traces of long-lasting kisses, possessive bites and passionate strangulations from this man. The very man who must be touching his cock right now thinking about him.
God.
How good.
Jesus, feeling so good right now, won’t last long
What do you want me to do?
Regulus bit his lip until he bled, realising that despite his desire to get a release and bring himself to the peak, everything he wanted in the first place was too simple. Way too obvious. He needed it more than anything else.
Want you to come, looking at me and imagining how you’ll thrust into my body until I couldn’t breathe, Mr. Potter
His fingers never stopped moving. Constantly pushing deeper, and deeper, and deeper… The second hand slided down to fully grasp his shaft.
fuck I think looking at your delicious body and imagining how you’ll be squirming the same way on my dick is the best thing in my life that I could ever imagine. It’s so throbbing and waiting to erupt into your little hole
Please, please, do it
He could not stand it any longer. His fingers were wriggling with a furious force, his second hand sliding rapidly along the length of his cock. Sobbing out loud with such a need. How he wanted to feel that very sperm of the man inside him. He was literally dying all aching for it.
F-fuck…
All these thoughts were his last peak. Choking with a loud moan, Regulus poured out on his palm, getting the bed dirty around with milky liquid.
He spent a few more minutes in a bewildered trance. For a moment, he even thought he had lost his consciousness. It felt too good. His breathing is ragged , as if after a marathon.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He looked around at the dirty bed, surprised how strong he came and how much semen poured out of him. God, he’s probably never come like that before. Ever.
Slowly rising from the bed, he shuffled to the bathroom for a wet towel. After tidying himself up, he didn’t even have the energy to change the sheets. He was still outside of space, somewhere in the universe of post-orgasmic bliss.
Lying back in bed, his gaze fell on the laptop, where his last message still stood out.
Through the haze of pleasure, like small electric shocks, thoughts began to surface in his mind, realising what had just happened.
He was sexting. He was sexting using email. He had virtual sex with his 30-year-old married teacher.
What the fuck was he thinking?
His last message was unanswered, and he hoped it had happened for the same reason as his. He hoped the man came and just went to the shower. Not just stopped, panicked and disgusted, suddenly remembering who they were and what they were doing.
Regulus covered his face with his hands, still breathing heavily. The boy decided he had had enough. There was only a few hours of sleep left before he had to get up for university. If he didn’t get some rest now, he would look like a walking mummy the next morning.
He quickly snapped the laptop shut, placing it on the bedside table, and turned off the small lamp on it. Regulus didn’t know how he was going to survive the next day, especially the Fundamentals of Cinematography class. Most likely, Regulus would simply die and sink into the ground from embarrassment. His heart was not ready to face a stern or even an indifferent glance from the professor.
Amidst his anxious thoughts mixed with erotic images that would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, the boy didn’t notice how he fell asleep.