Authority Figures~ (Mitchie)

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

Respect is something that Jon has a very hard time gaining. He tries so hard to get it from his students, but they just don't respect him. They think that not doing their work is fine just because Jon's the "cool teacher". Well, sometimes being the "cool teacher" is hard. And then there's other students who immediately give him respect as an authority figure. Students like one Mitchell Pressley. What a good kid. Jon loved Mitchie, and not just because he pulled Jon out of the house to get Starbucks for himself.

But the number of other students exceeds the number of students like Mitchie and his nephew. This tends to bring Jon's mood down and his mellow outside of the door. Mellow that he can't receive from lighting up his bong. No, drugs wouldn't be the solution to Jon's crappy mood tonight. Alcohol would be. Getting shitfaced always makes Jonathan forget. Forget about the fact that most of his students don't care, forget the fact that Jon himself doesn't care, and forget that he's just a big ol' hypocrite.

Jonathan fixed his tie in bathroom mirror and mussed his hair a little before heading out the door, smiling fondly at the empty Starbucks drink sitting on the counter. Jon quickly found his way to the student bar. Upon entering, he sat down at the bar and ordered a beer and told the waiter to set up a tab. Shutting out students' laughter, conversations, and music, Jon thought long and hard about his teaching styles over the next 3 beers that came his way. By his 4th drink, Jonathan decided to fuck the students that gave him shit and by the 5th, he gave up on thinking and got up off of his seat to head out the door to Amnesia. Maybe there he'd get his mind off of work.

He just about bolted out of the door before he bumped into somebody else. Disoriented, he let out a curse and held onto the arm of whoever he just bumped into. "Whoa, sorry man." He muttered out before looking up at the man. He squinted at him before recognition came into his brain. "Mitchie! WHOA. I wouldn't think you would be here." Jonathan laughed out loud, patting Mitchie several times on the arm. "Hey... what are you doing here?" He slurred out, squinting at the boy's face again.

Notes: Jon: WHOA
outfit

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

"No, Mitchie, you will not skip out on tonight for My Fair Wedding again." The brunette-dyed-blonde who he'd met from knowing people (Bridgette) in theater was huffing, pulling the blonde by his wrists up into a sitting position.

"Dianne, I dun wanna. Just let me lie here in my beeed with David Tuteraa." He groaned, going to lay back down.

"No! Mitchell Pressley, you're getting up, and you're getting dressed because tonight you're going to have some fun." She stood her ground, which wasn't like her because Dianne was normally a follower who stuck in the background. Now that she wasn't the third wheel on a friendship anymore, however, she seemed to take the leader role up very eagerly.

"Sleeping is fun." Mitchie mumbled into his pillow as he tugged at Dianne gripping his wrists.

"Up, up, up." She tsked, going around him now and pushing him up onto his feet. Slumping his shoulders forward and giving another reluctant groan he finally shuffled towards his bathroom. If he was going to be forced to go out, he'd at least make himself look like he was enjoying it, which meant styling his hair and getting into something tasteful.

He took his sweet time primping and preparing as Dianne stood off to the side, sighing dramatically the way theater kids sometimes do when they forget they're offstage and no one's waiting to hand them a Tony. Finally, after donning a new cap he'd treated himself to buying a couple days back, he nodded that he was ready to enter out into public and Dianne skipped ahead of him out of the dorm.

The student bar was already pretty packed, the way it usually got at 9:30 on a Saturday, and Mitchie could tell it was request night at the dj's station because something awfully Top 40s was blasting through the speakers as he made his way over to the bar with his newly-appointed gal pal.

"Uhm, the Strawberry Limade cocktail, please." He smiled up to the bartender, rolling his eyes as Dianne led him away after his drink came. Sipping at the straw dully he half-listened to the conversation going on between Dianne and the two girls she'd just brought Mitchie over to meet.

As Dianne turned to Mitchie to say something about a boy she wanted him to meet desperately "He's gay, you'll love him." someone collided very solidly into Mitchie's shoulder, and the blonde stumbled back surprised, blinking a few times as the man gripped his arm.

Looking fully at him now, he registered the face with a name and then broke into a light grin, "Professor Sharping, it's a surprise to see you here as well." He chirped brightly, attention off of the three girls who were still buzzing about the boy they'd intended for Mitchie to meet. Tilting his head back to look more into the face of the obviously drunken professor, he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "Just out looking for some fun." He replied, making it more than clear that standing around chattering with three of Winchester's fag hags was not entirely the fun he was looking for. "And what about you? Strip club's too full tonight?" He teased, hand going to balance the man who seemed to teeter back and forth where he stood.

Outfit: heree~

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

Jonathan looked at Mitchie with a grin, laughing again when he mentioned the Strip Club. He wondered if he was really that predictable. Jon glanced upward at Mitchie's hat and giggled. Mitchie was so adorable. "Actually, I was just about to head over there," He told Mitchie, gesturing to the door, "But, I'm very, very drunk. I don't want to die tonight." Jonathan admitted to the younger boy with a sigh.

Jon looked over Mitchie's shoulder to the pack of girls snickering into their drinks and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, would you mind terribly driving me home?" Jonathan pulled an exaggerated pout and leaned in closer to Mitchie's touch, leaning over to rest his forehead on the blonde's shoulder. He smelled so good, like vanilla, but Mitchie's vanilla is different from the vanilla on women. Jon inhaled deeply, letting out a huff of breathe before muttering out, "You smell so fucking great."

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

Mitchie waved off Dianne with a hand, not bothering to turn and look at her when she called his attention from where she stood with the two other girls. He honestly doubted whoever they wanted him to meet was worth two seconds of his time, plus he was far too amused with professor Jonathan Sharping slurring up a storm in front of him. Raising a brow in mock-surprise when Jon admitted he was drunk, Mitchie giggled. "Drunk? I never would've guessed." He shook his head jokingly.

Glancing back to the three girls, who didn't look like anymore appealing company now than they had before, he turned back to Jon and nodded slowly, a smile coming back into place on his lips. "You're lucky I don't charge you a fee." He wagged his finger at Jon, smirking a bit.

Brow raising again as Jonathan's forehead went to rest on his shoulder he cocked his head as the man mumbled something about him smelling good. "Thanks, I try." He tapped Jonathan under the chin, making him stand up straight again so he could start to lead him towards the exit of the bar. As he headed away from Dianne, he just gave her a little nod over the shoulder, pulling an arm around Jon's waist to support his weight.

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

"I'm the world's most predictable teacher!" Jonathan announced as he leaned into Mitchie's grip, barely keeping a straight line out to the parking lot. He let himself be led out to the sidewalk, where the two of them waited for a cab to pass by. Jon allowed himself to slump back into Mitchie's grasp, his head on the blonde's shoulder. He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the cars zoom by.

"Okay, if you charged me a fee, how much? I could pay you in money, bacon, or kisses." Jon mumbled, lifting his head again to stare at Mitchie's face, eyes not entirely in focus. He took a deep breath, inhaling Mitchie's vanilla and the Vegas night. Bars in Vegas didn't have the most pleasant smells, Jon decided after holding back a retch. He exhaled and continued on, "You pick!" He leaned in closer again, whispering now.

"I'd prefer the kisses, to be honest," he slurred against his neck.

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

Shaking his head with a wide smile as Jon declared drunkenly that he was predictable, he nudged the man slightly in the side. "You're also the world's silliest teacher." He jeered, eyes going down a moment to look into the professor's face. He couldn't help but giggle again at the dopey, intoxicated smile on the man's face. "What are we going to do with you." He tsked, before raising a brow at Jon's question.

Face reddening slightly at Jon's muttered preference into his neck, he bit down into his lip, trying to remember where he'd parked while keeping Jon up on his feet. "Is that so?" He replied lamely, not sure what else to say, after all Jon was far past the legal drinking limit. He was glad that he'd ran into him, otherwise the other professor might've woken up on a park bench, or something worse. "That's very hetero of you." He continued to poke fun, knowing he shouldn't take any of the advances too seriously.

"Here we are." He approached the car with Jon, keeping a hand around his waist as he unlocked the passenger side door. "In you go, professor." He grunted slightly as he helped Jon maneuver into the seat, and then leaned down, buckling the man in.

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

Jonathan couldn't help but laugh along with Mitchie's giggles, muttering a soft "oh" as they moved to Mitchie's car in the lot. "I'm very hetero, Mitchie. Come on." Jon replied, distinctly remembering making a booty call over the chat room with Bianca. Jon could have swore he was walking straight, but Mitchie's arm around his waist was tighter than before preventing him from swaying. When they reached the car, Jon plopped down in the passenger seat, rolling his head back.

"Why can't you just call me Jon?" He said softly before gripping the lapel of Mitchie's jacket to pull him forward. His eyes searching Mitchie's face frantically, smiling at the color rising up on his cheeks. Jonathan wondered if Mitchie tasted like vanilla too. Well, only one way to find out. Jon closed the small gap between their faces to bring their lips together. Jonathan's grip was still tight on the lapel of the other's jacket, holding him there.

Jonathan was right. Mitchie tasted like vanilla bean ice cream with extra rainbow sprinkles.

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

Mitchie fussed slightly with the seat buckle, which was being almost as much of a struggztini as Jon who was slurring about how very hetero he was. "Oh, I believe you, I do-" He began to chuckle, moving to stand back up as Jon grabbed the lapel of his jacket. Mitchie frowned slightly, not upset as much as confused and worried for hetero-Jon's sake about where this was going.

Eyes wide as the professor's lips met his, he took a sharp breath, hand moving to Jon's to try and remove it from his jacket. He had to stop the impulse to lace his fingers between the other's and finally was able to remove the man's grip. "Profe- uhm, Jon. I don't think we should be doing this.." He said quietly, eyes going across Jon's face to his lips, back up to his eyes. Focus Mitchie, he's hetero.

Fixing the seat-belt, which was hanging off Jon's shoulder awkwardly, he blew out an uneven breath. Have some respect for yourself, Mitchie, he's straight. The angel on his shoulder was so annoying, always ruining the fun of things, like when you had a drunk professor right in the palm of your hand.

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

The kiss lasted way shorter than Jonathan would have wanted it to be. He accepted his hand back into his lap and let his head roll back against the headrest. "You're right." He sighed, frowning a little. He repeated it quietly to himself before raising his head again, grabbing for Mitchie's arm. He braced the boy on both sides, forcing him to straddle one of his legs. "But, it's not like anybody has to know. Or find out." He replied quickly. He just wanted to taste Mitchie's mouth again. Jon decided he would buy vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles to keep in his freezer whenever he thought about Mitchie's mouth.

Jon surged forward again, his hands cupping either side of Mitchie's face to kiss him fully on the mouth again. Jon knew that Mitchie was a male. A definite male, but there was just something different about Mitchie. For instance, not every guy he knew tasted and smelled like delicious ice cream. If kissing Mitchie's mouth for forever deemed him gay, then so fucking be it. As long as Mitchie's lips didn't leave his. He didn't care. His college buddies always told him he turned gay when he was shitfaced for the night.

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

He could see Jon's mind forming a thought as he stood by the still open passenger door and he waited patiently for it to bubble to the surface. You're right. Was that all it had been? But that didn't seem like all Jon had to say. It looked much more important than that. And so Mitchie kept one hand on the passenger side door as he waited a moment or two longer for the wasted professor to form a sentence. What came out made the red in Mitchie's cheeks return, and spread to his ears and neck even.

"You are definitely far more drunk than I- Mitchie gasped as Jon pulled him down onto his lap, eyes darting across the man's face as if making sure he were actually going to try and kiss him again. "Than I though you were." Mitchie finished quietly, as he made himself settle on the professor's leg. Mitchie was never this worried when a man was coming onto him. Then again, usually the men weren't straight professors who taught at the college he attended. It wasn't Mitchie who had anything to lose here, but Jon...

All the former thought and worry was drowned out however by the feeling Jon's lips crashing back against his. Mitchie's hand flew out to pull the passenger side door shut, and then he scooted himself up on Jon's lap. He mumbled "Jon are you sure about this." and "You know you're kissing a boy, right?" against the other's lips at one point, but never really made any real attempt to stop it at all as he continued to slide up on Jon's lap until they were almost chest to chest. He'd stop it if it got to the point of shedding clothes..yeah, that's what he'd do.

[JONATHAN SHARPING]

Jonathan smiled up on Mitchie's actions, closing the door and scooting closer. Jon raised his hands to push underneath Mitchie's shirt, and his hands squeezed along his sides as he pulled him even closer, their chests and torsos flush against each other. Jon let out a quiet groan at the contact. "I'm sure. I'm so sure." Jon breathed out and kissed lower onto Mitchie's chin and neck. God he even tasted like vanilla there.

This was gay. So fucking gay. Jon knew it, it was the only other thing on his mind as his hands explored to Mitchie's back and down to the back pocket of his pants. "I know you're a boy. Jesus Christ, I know you're a boy." Jon said with more sloppy kisses. "Unless you want to prove it to me." He added, his hands flying to the front of Mitchie's pants, undoing the belt.

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

Mitchie wanted to focus on how good this felt, he really did- because it did feel good, it really did- but he couldn't help but wonder what would happen after tonight when Jon realized what they'd been up to. But he said he was sure... and he sounded it. And well, Mitchie had been out looking for fun. What was the harm in this, if it didn't go any further?

Deciding to let the worry melt away from his mind again as Jon's hands found their way under his blazer and tank top, he let his head roll back slightly as the other's lips went to his neck. Sighing out and shifting forward as Jon's hands moved down across his pants, he turned his head back to look at the man. He was such a mess, but it was cute, and maybe a little bit of a turn-on.

If the man wasn't so stupidly straight, he would've been much further along in this than the two were at this point. But because of that fact, his hands moved down quickly to grab Jon's away from his belt buckle. "Okay, Jon, I think that's enough." He sighed, pushing the passenger side door back open and climbing out with a bit of a struggle. Closing the door before Jon could whine out a protest he ran a hand over his face and walked around to the driver's side.

"Let's get you home." He mumbled, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot in an uncomfortable silence. The ride went on like that, Jon probably huffing and pouting in the seat beside him, but he didn't let himself think about that. When they finally got to the man's house, Mitchie parked the car and hauled him up with a bit of difficulty so he could walk the stumbling mess to his door.

Letting Jon fumble around for his key, and then unlocking the door for him, he continued back until he reached what must've been Jon's bedroom. "If you can get me undressed, you can certainly get yourself undressed, so I'll leave that to you, alright? Now get to sleep." He commanded as if talking to a five year old.

Leaving the professor to it, Mitchie went back out to his car, heading back for his dorm. Enough fun for one night.