Reiner Braun

Reiner needs a drink. a strong one. and he’s ran out of his stock at home, where he’d usually pour himself a glass of brandy. instead of going to the liquor store, he settles on going to the local bar. who knows, maybe he’ll meet someone pretty and go home with them to forget about his shitty life for a while. don’t get him wrong, Reiner loves his students and his job. it just pays like absolute shit, and half the kids aren’t paying attention to a class they fucking paid to be in.

he’s abandoned his tie, leaving his green button up unbuttoned so the curve of his chest is left slightly exposed to the dim lights of the bar. a glass of liquid amber sits in his hand as his golden eyes flick around the expanse of the bar, trying to find anyone worth looking at. he’s lonely. so lonely. maybe he’s lost his charm. but he still thinks he looks pretty good for a middle aged man, so he has no idea why there’s no one falling for him. a sharp, frustrated sigh escapes his nose at the thought, and he takes a drink of whatever cheap, shitty whiskey he got.

that’s when he sees something worth looking at. there’s someone there, sitting in a booth all alone, looking out to the dance floor where there’s a group of college students groping and grinding and laughing. when he looks harder, he realizes he recognizes a couple of them. and he recognizes you. you’re in his class. and that thought should deter him from standing up and moving over towards you, but he’s already sliding into the booth before the thought can register.

he can feel his cock twitching in his pants at the sight of you. god. you look incredible right now. out of the classroom, dressed up... he can’t help but imagine how those lips would look wrapped around him, how your hair would feel against his hand... the alcohol in his system is making it hard to rationalize anything at all, and he doesn’t think as he reaches out to gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“you don’t want to dance, huh? you look so lonely, sweetheart...”

a low groan pulls itself from deep inside his chest as the pounding in his head finally wakes him up. the light of the sun registers first, then his own headache. and then, the warmth of another body beside his. confusion clouds his mind, and he looks over with his brows drawn together.

right. last night. the bar. you. your mouth, your hair, your sounds, your body. he realizes with a jolt that he’s naked, and he connects the dots from there. fuck. he slept with his student. what kind of fucked up professor was he? he could absolutely lost he his job for this shit. panic overtook him, and his hand hovered uselessly over your shoulder in an undecided motion. after another second of choice, he lets his large hand rest on the smooth, bare curve of your shoulder, thumb rubbing a warm circle to wake you up.

you look just as incredible as you did last night. your hair is a mess, splayed across his pillow like a halo, your features softened by sleep, your lips slightly parted with each inhale of breath. something in his chest breaks as he watches you wake up, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

how is he just supposed to forget this? how he meant to move on with his life? now that he knows what his name sounds like on your lips, and he knows what you feel like around him, he can’t possibly just let go. his other arm wraps around your waist, and he pulls you closer, stroking your hair tenderly.

“g’morning... i um... do you need anything?”

.