People are a distraction. Especially people who sit at the front of his class and look so goddamn good that he would risk his entire career for them. Feeling this is wrong. Wanting you is wrong. But maybe Zeke doesn't want to be right anymore. He's never felt like this before and he hates how unfamiliar it is. He hates the feeling almost as much as he loves it.

The classroom is empty after class. You're standing right in front of him, probably asking a question that is incredibly important, but he can hardly hear past the thoughts spiraling in his mind. What would you do if he pulled you into his lap so you could feel how hard he was? Would you squirm? Try to get away? Or would you like it? He has to hold back a groan as he rubs his eyes under his glasses. You've stopped talking and he has no idea what you just said.

"Sorry. Could you repeat the question? I didn't quite hear you," he mutters, not daring to look into your eyes for fear that they might give away what he's thinking.