Chapter Text

You do realise this is a Cat & Mouse game, don’t you?

…

One week after walking into the wrong class, Hob hasn’t repeated his mistake, and he sincerely hopes that such an incident will never occur again. He has only four classes this semester, and today he’ll have a proper introduction to the class he missed last week. He needs to make sure that he doesn’t screw up this time. Johanna already never lets him forget that embarrassing memory, Hob doesn’t want to give her more materials to tease him.

“So, about the grading system, you will have four assignments during this course, and a final exam—”

The introduction, for the most part, goes smoothly. It takes him about half an hour to stop darting his eyes toward the door as if he’s waiting for another professor to walk in and claim the class. When he moves on to the first topic, Hob secretly counts it as a personal victory.

And then at the forty-fifth-minute mark, the door swings open.

Hob stops writing on the board to turn his head toward the door, and most students do the same.

Morpheus stands there, with a tiny, precious smile gracing his lips. When their gazes meet, Hob’s mind suddenly blanks. Fortunately, he isn’t talking, or else he might choke on his own words, and that would be truly embarrassing.

The black-haired man slightly tilts his head as a greeting, and then he proceeds to take a seat. A few students turn to look at him, curiosity in their eyes.

Hob clears his throat and gets back to his lecture. If he continues to stare at that pretty face of Professor Aeturnus, he probably will forget how to speak.

.

When Hob’s done with his class today, the students quickly get themselves out of the classroom. Morpheus is still there, and Hob absentmindedly shoves his belongings into his briefcase before he goes up there and chuckles at the black-haired man.

“So, is this your attempt to make it fair?” He starts with a joke. “I interrupted your class one, so you decided to interrupt mine.”

“Actually, you took my class as yours once,” Morpheus corrects him. “I haven’t tried that yet.”

Hob watches the playful grin dancing on the other’s lips and resists the urge to grab his shoulders to pull him closer into a kiss. They’re on amicable terms but he isn’t even sure he can consider Morpheus as a friend yet. Johanna tells him that Professor Aeturnus is a secretive person, and outside of the classrooms, people rarely hear him talk. He must be on his good list to have him initiate their interactions like this.

“I sincerely hope that you won’t,” Hob smiles, averting the gaze when those blue eyes focus on him. Has anyone ever told Morpheus that he has such an intense gaze? The kind of look that hypnotises you and completely captures your attention.

“Can’t promise. Haven’t decided on that,” a corner of Morpheus’ mouth curves into a mischievous grin. 

At such close proximity, Hob can smell a faint scent exuded by the young man. He can’t tell what that is, but it’s nice and comforting. It makes him want to open his arms and circle around Morpheus, pulling him into a bear hug. The amount of physical interactions he wants to have with this new colleague is alarming.

“What shall I do for you to make you drop that idea?” Hob fakes an exasperatingly tired sigh.

“Hmm. Let me think,” Morpheus places his hand under his chin, one finger lightly tapping his lower lip. Those lips look terribly enticing, and Hob finds it hard to force himself to look away. Why does Morpheus have to be so beautifully ethereal like that? It’s not good for Hob’s heart at all. “Nope. I’d prefer to occasionally poke fun at you for that incident.”

“If you’re close with Constantine then I’ll blame her for affecting you with that horrible personality of hers,” Hob arches one eyebrow.

“She seems fun to converse with,” the dark-haired man shrugs insouciantly. 

Hob feels a pang of jealousy spring up and jabs into his heart. Which is terrible, honestly, because they’re just colleagues, and he’s known Constantine much longer than Morpheus. “You two will be the death of me one day.”

Morpheus lets out a small laugh at that. It’s short but precious. Hob wants to hear him laugh more. 

“I have a class in fifteen minutes,” the pale man informs, a tiny smile still on his lips. “Do you want to teach it for the first half and then I’ll bang in and declare that’s my class again?”

“You know that I didn’t mistake your class as mine on purpose.”

“It might be fun,” Morpheus chuckles as he stands up. “But we shouldn’t interfere with each other’s classes too much, after all.”

“Oh, what might stop you?”

Hob replies with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. The pale man scrunches his nose a bit, and he tries to not think about how cute that action is.

“A student tried to hit on me.”

“Just one?” Hob arches one eyebrow. “I expect more than that.”

“… Fine, not just one,” Morpheus pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. “The point is, I don’t want that kind of attention from students, and it doesn’t help when I show up in your class looking like one.”

Hob resists the urge to extend his hand to ruffle the other’s hair. “Point taken. You can try dressing more formally, perhaps.”

“I was wearing a vest, Gadling,” Morpheus glares at him. Blue eyes darken into a more sombre shade of stormy sky. Beautiful.

“Oh,” is Hob’s eloquent reply. His mind tends to blank out a lot whenever he stares into those captivating eyes. He really wishes it would stop doing that. The only good thing about this is Morpheus still seems oblivious of the effect he has on Hob.

“I have to go,” the dark-haired man glances at his wristwatch, frowning. “Talk to you later.”

.

Morpheus doesn’t show up in Hob’s class for a whole week. He doesn’t even meet Hob in his office either – even though he has to admit that there is no business for Professor Aeturnus to appear in his office, they don’t share any classes or work at all. Hob feels like he just lost something and he decides to be sulky about it.

“What’s wrong?” Johanna asks when they go to the canteen to have lunch. “You’ve been sulking for like, three days. It isn’t like you.”

“Probably,” Hob replies to her with a sigh. “I don’t feel like being happy.”

“Bullshit,” Johanna makes a ‘tsk’ sound as she scans over the menu quickly. “Just spill.”

Nobody in their right mind would want to argue with Constantine when she’s using that tone of voice. So Hob spills.

After hearing his story, Johanna arches her eyebrows so high they seem to disappear after her bang. “You do realise this is a Cat & Mouse game, don’t you? The whole ‘I’ll show up in your class and you’ll also do the same’ thing.”

He can also hear the unspoken part of it, Isn’t that flirting? and he’s thankful she chooses to not say that out loud. It isn’t like there will be someone else who eavesdrops on their little conversation, it’s more like Hob doesn’t really want to admit that he has had it bad for the other professor now.

“If so, then Morpheus is surely the cat,” Hob chuckles fondly.

To which, Johanna snorts loudly. “So does that make you the mouse?”

“No, I want to be the cat’s owner.”

“Don’t let Morpheus know your dirty little desire, or else he’ll stop talking with you.”

“Fine. I want to be the cat’s worshipper, then.”

“… I don’t want to hear another word about this ever again,” she groans, and then swiftly changes their topic of conversation.

…

Chapter Text

2, A request. 

…

Hob feels better after talking with Johanna, so he decides to go meet Morpheus by himself instead of waiting for the other to come to him.

By joining one of his classes, of course.

Professor Aeturnus, to his credit, only glances at Hob for a second before he turns back to his class and continues teaching. Hob sighs softly when he looks at how the students are so attentive toward Morpheus – he has such a gravitating voice that makes you want to keep hearing it more and more. The contents of his lesson are interesting, too, with random trivial facts occasionally thrown in that make students gasp in surprise and giggle. Hob can understand why his classes always have a high fill rate each semester, despite the warning of a nightmarish final assignment.

Morpheus finishes his lecture right at the moment the bell rings loudly, and students start to collect their things and leave. Professor Aeturnus is taking his tools and books into his briefcase, too, but his actions are deliberately slow as if he is waiting for everyone to clear out of the room, leaving him with Hob. The thought puts a smile on Hob’s face as he stands up and approaches the other man.

“Were you entertained?”

Morpheus chuckles when Hob is close enough to hear him. His talking voice is a little bit different from his lecturing one, deeper and more hypnotising. While his lecture is interesting enough to make people stay awake, talking with him has a certain feeling of calmness that can put one at ease and even fall asleep.

“Oh, greatly,” Hob laughs, winking at him. “You’re really good.”

A soft smile graces Morpheus’ lips, “Thank you,” his eyes scan Hob for a moment, and mischievous glint flashes across them. “Did any student try to hit on you?”

“Oh c’mon, I look past their appropriate age group for dating, really.”

“Not sure about that,” professor Aeturnus replies to him with the driest tone possible. “I once heard someone say you have a daddy quality or something.”

“Oh, do I?” Hob isn’t sure whether he should laugh or grimace. But he knows one thing for certain: he shall never tell Morpheus what his students think about him. He once overheard a group of students say he has such a dreamy allure, and honestly, Hob wholeheartedly agrees with that. That can be counted as a compliment, but other whispers like ‘Do you want to know how badly I want to bend professor Aeturnus on his desk and have my way with him?’ surely aren’t appropriate to say to anyone, especially the person in that fantasy.

Hob will forever deny that he did pause and think about it for more than one moment after the shock of hearing it faded away.

Morpheus gives him a noncommittal shrug at that, taking the last item on his desk into his briefcase and closing it. “You don’t have any classes to teach this afternoon?”

“No, not until tomorrow’s afternoon,” Hob grins at him. He’s a new professor, which means there aren’t many of his classes this semester. Constantine and Aeturnus both seem busier than him. “Why do you ask?”

Morpheus’ expression morphs into a thoughtful frown. “I hope this isn’t something too much to ask for, but can you accompany me to buy a gift for my butler, Lucienne? I don’t want to let Matthew know it and secretly inform her before I give it to her.”

That is really sweet and considerate of him. Hob finds himself smiling a little bit too widely. “I’m glad that I could help. When shall we begin?”

“Oh,” Morpheus blinks in surprise as if he didn’t expect Hob to agree with him that quickly. “Thank you for accepting my request. If you don’t mind, shall we grab something for lunch first before we go?”

So, a lunch date. Hob has nothing to complain about. He is in fact elated right now. “Sure, let’s get to the canteen.”

…

Morpheus’ idea of a lunch turns out to be a tiny omelet sandwich and a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, Hob orders a large chicken pesto pasta bowl with a side of French fries and a medium-sized frappuccino. Their meal looks comically contrasting when placed together.

“You really eat only that?” Hob arches one eyebrow, a little bit concerned. “I’m surprised that you’re not as tiny as your sandwich.”

“Very funny, Hob,” Morpheus dryly remarks as he takes a small bite from his sandwich. He chews like a little cat nibbles on its food, and the sight is strangely endearing. If he catches Hob staring, he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want to try a bite of mine?” Hob offers as he picks up a full fork of chicken pesto, waving in front of the other’s face. “They’re still a bit hot, and I bet it’s delicious.”

Morpheus eyes the fork as it offends him somehow. Hob encourages, “C’mon, a bite won’t hurt you. If you don’t like it, I won’t ask you to try again.”

The dark-haired man glances at Hob, contemplating for a moment before he gives in, “Just this one.”

Hob grins when the other leans in a bit and gingerly takes the bite. He chews thoughtfully, and Hob waits for a remark.

Morpheus swallows and then nods his head, “It’s decent.”

“I suppose that’s already a compliment coming from you,” Hob beams at the other before getting back to his plate. Since Morpheus doesn’t complain about the taste, he’s bold enough to try to tempt him to eat more. “Another bite?”

The blue-eyed man shakes his head and declines the offer.

It’s until he’s halfway through his dish that Hob distantly realises they might have shared an indirect kiss, and gosh he is an adult, a college professor, therefore he can’t sit there and suddenly giggle like an idiot for such a silly little thing.

He can’t help but chuckle and smile to himself, though. Morpheus gives him a quizzical look but he doesn’t inquire. For that, Hob is grateful.

Morpheus is done nibbling on his sandwich like a noble cat and now he’s drinking his coffee. Hob takes a gulp from his frappuccino, truly feels like a mouse that voluntarily gets trapped into a Cat & Mouse game now.

He looks forward to their gift-shopping trip afterwards.

…