Hi! I’m a long time reader but first time writer. I was told recently that existence is better than perfection, so here I am, dragging this practice piece into the light. I apologize in advance for all the exposition before the action; it’s part of a larger story and there’s a lot to flesh out. I am super open to feedback and constructive criticism, just please be gentle ?​ Thank you all and hope you enjoy!

(All characters are 18+)

—————

It was a cold, drab Monday morning when I stepped out of my car and walked straight into a completely different dimension.

I was supposed to be starting my shift at the shop, surrounded by greenery and flowers and needy customers. Instead, I found myself stranded in the middle of a barren landscape, not a single sign of life as far as the eye could see. When I spun around to get back into my car, it was gone, too. So I just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at an unnaturally bleak wasteland. There weren’t even any clouds in the slate grey sky. Just grey, grey, and more grey.

I could feel dread building in my gut, a nauseating coil of foreboding that suggested I was about to be truly, royally fucked.

I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I have to be dreaming. I chanted it like a mantra. This was a nightmare, had to be, and at any moment, either something terrible was going to happen or I was about to wake up. Until either occurred, I just needed to keep moving, if for no other reason than to kill time. I wandered around for what felt like hours. I was becoming delirious, alternating between pinching myself and screaming into the nothingness.

Wake up already!!

I was standing there, petrified, teetering on the brink of a meltdown, when I heard a voice.

“Hello, um, excuse me, miss.”

I whipped around to find myself face to face with a man, evidently speaking to me. I wish I could say I recalled my self defense training in that moment, or felt a Zenlike serenity pass over me as I assessed the situation. Mostly, I just stared at him, stubbornly convinced I was about to wake up any second.

“I don’t mean to startle you, but ah…unfortunately, I don’t think you’re dreaming.”

He was tall and lean, with a mop of brown curls and bookish air about him. His wooly sweater vest certainly lent to that effect. When I met his gaze, I noticed his eyes were storm grey and his skin smooth and fair. He looked young, but something about him made me suspect that appearances might be deceiving.

“What do you mean?” I lashed out. I was still half convinced this was a dream and I had no qualms about being rude. “Where are we? And who the hell are you?”

“My name is Sebastian,” he answered mildly, “and I can explain everything, but you need to come with me first.”

I blinked, unable to compute, so taken aback that I didn’t even think to introduce myself in return. “Why?”

“Because you’re in danger,” Sebastien replied. He seemed deeply earnest, and he had a way of focusing his stormy gaze on you like nothing else mattered. “Your very presence attracts unwanted attention, and if you want to make it out of here in one piece, you’d best follow me.”

It sounded like the same, cliched line from at least a hundred different movies I’ve seen, but I couldn’t justify not complying. As far as I was concerned, if this was really a dream, I had nothing to lose. And if it wasn’t, I was no better off wandering around on my own in some alien land.

“Where are we going?” I asked after a few minutes of trailing after Sebastien like a duckling would its mother, painfully aware of how vulnerable I sounded.

“Some place safe,” he supplied unhelpfully.

Of course that’s what he would say. And how could I even argue? I had no idea who this guy was or where we even were, but his confidence in my ability to survive seemed somehow authentic. Which was more than I could say of myself.

It wasn’t long before my feet hit something other than bland, colorless dirt. The soles of my shoes were treading on some kind of metallic surface. A disc, it looked like. It couldn’t have been bigger than maybe three or four feet wide. But why would a random metal disk be out here in the middle of nowhere?

“We’re here,” Sebastien exhaled in relief. He motioned for me to stand beside him, arm extended. “It’s better if you hold onto my hand.”

I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to get the hell out of there, but because I still wasn’t sure if I could trust him. Oh, and touching a total stranger? Even one with perfectly symmetrical features and long, elegant hands? No freaking thank you. I think. Wait…

“If you want to find your way back home,” he coaxed, partially guessing my thoughts, “you must try to trust me.”

I couldn’t exactly dispute that point. Even though I didn’t see any imminent threats, the long term questions of food, water, shelter, and other basic necessities had been weighing on my mind for a while. My stomach grumbled at the thought of food. Swallowing, I nodded and then placed my hand in his, hoping against all hope this decision wouldn’t come back to bite me in the Ass.

Which, of course, it eventually did.

At the time, it had felt unreal, as though any moment I would lurch out of bed and find that it had all been dreamland fiction. But the warm, dry feel of his hand enveloping mine was real enough, and before I knew it a blue light surrounded us both. There was a whirring of noise as the light grew brighter, and then my stomach dropped as everything warped around me. It felt like going down the highest point of a roller coaster, first with the anticipation, then the terror and discomfort, and finally the weightless thrill of flying.

It took about a minute before the light died and my eyes began to readjust. We were in a city, but one unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was lit up from top to bottom in glowing, neon signs, with buildings taller than the eye could see. Vehicles flew–actually flew!–in the air while pedestrians milled about on the ground below. Everything was loud, blinking, or flying. I could feel myself shrinking in the face of so much over stimulation. At some point, I’m pretty sure I blacked out.

And so began my unforeseen stay at the city of Neon.

******************************

I am training again to blow off steam, this time with no weapons, and Aed is being a pain in my Ass. As per usual.

“You’ll need to block faster than that,” he goads. “C’mon, try again. Only this time, do better.”

I throw another series of jabs, quicker and with more force, but only because I want to wipe that smug smile off of his pretty face. Bad enough that when I’m not dealing with his arrogance, I’m buried under never ending paperwork that Sebastien happily supplies on a daily basis. It helps, a little, that Sebs is handsome, forthright, and bakes the yummiest of pies. But only a little. There is no curing my hatred for homework.

Aed grins wider as he dodges my attacks leisurely, though he’s at least starting to break a sweat. “I know you can move faster than that,” he taunts.

Feeling a surge of exasperation, I swing hard but too wide. He decides to punish me for my recklessness, catching my arm mid swing and yanking it behind me. I go down like a sack of potatoes. He’s triumphant, straddling me like I’m some kind of plastic horse at a carnival ride.

“You,” I pant, “are an Ass.”

“I actually don’t mind being called something I’m a fan of. High five?”

I glare at him. His chipper mood after out-sparring me is always annoying, but made doubly so whenever he decides to use lingo from my world. He’s weirdly good at it, too, and I suspect that if the roles were ever reversed and it was he who accidentally walked into my dimension, he’d fit right in, no problem. It makes me saltier than a box of crackers.

Eventually, he gives my captured hand a quick slap to the palm and rolls off of me. I push myself up with a groan. I’m covered in sweat and every inch of me aches.

“I’m definitely done for the day.”

“You should have had me that first round,” Aed sighs, stretching out his muscles. “Then you’d be walking out of here with bragging rights, for once.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not my Mentor, Aed. You can take your advice and shove it.” The last thing I need today is him needling me to death.

He gives me a cryptic look mid-stretch.

“You’re right, I’m not.”

Something in the way he says this makes my eyes narrow. I can’t help remembering all the times when he singled me out, making me do extra drills and laps. Or how he would show me no mercy, sparring with me like an equal when he so clearly held back for others. In the beginning, the regular trainees tried to convince me it was a huge honor to fight Mentor Aedin as a peer. I told them it wasn’t fun being covered in bruises everyday and that maybe they should try fucking him instead if they thought he was so great. At least that way, they might actually enjoy themselves while getting so bent out of shape.

The horror on their faces was worth the fifty extra push ups I did the next day.

Safe to say I don’t have a whole lot of friends.

Here at Neon Academy (cue pretentious, orchestral music) the sanctity of Mentors is revered. They are treated more like demigods than assholes with a superiority complex and desire to boss others around. If it wasn’t guaranteed to get in the way of everyone’s studies, I’m sure half of the students would be following their favorite Mentors around like lost lambs, throwing petals and kissing their feet. Just thinking about it makes me queasy.

Ironically, I don’t think I would have ever excelled in martial training had it not been for Aed, egging me on every step of the way. After the first few times I got my Ass handed to me, I spent countless hours after class practicing in secret, just to avoid the humiliation. But every time I improved, he’d up the ante. After a while, I became fueled purely by spite, pitting myself against him again and again, even though I knew I’d always lose. It was a matter of principle; better that I keep getting back up than admit defeat. I’d consider giving Aed some credit if I wasn’t thoroughly convinced he enjoyed torturing me.

I will admit that I am not wholly without fault. Having slogged through almost two decades worth of academics back in my home world, I’m less than inclined to be a model student. I’m mainly here to stay in Sebastien’s good graces, stuck between not-quite-student and not-quite-faculty. Officially, I’m under his wing, but because of my status as an Outsider, I’m not allowed any authority over the other attendees, either. So, I just hang around with a pissy attitude and a mountain of assignments to avoid.

The other reason for our on-going feud, of course, is because my murky status sets me apart. While I’m forced to abide by most of the school’s rules, I skirt around plenty more. Like, for instance, giving Mentors lip.

Outside of the sparring ring, no one is allowed to hurt me physically. Emotionally, however, is a different matter, one that Aed’s snarky little groupies have taken several liberties with. It becomes a vicious cycle of me feeling provoked, then provoking Aed back, then being punished for provoking Aed by his devoted disciples, then hurling my festering temper in Aed’s face again. Rinse, recycle, repeat.

The worst part, though, is not the bullying. It’s not even the aches and pains and bruises that I regularly go to bed with. It’s the fact that Aed knows my vice. He’s caught me red handed multiple times, appreciating his flawless physique. I’d get distracted by his broad, muscled shoulders or the immaculate shape of his Ass, even after he’d thoroughly pinned me to the ground, and he’d just grin. Then he’d punish me the next day by pushing me even harder. Mentors were supposed to maintain some sanctimonious state of neutrality, but I’m positive his transgression will continue to go unnoticed.

That’s Aed for you. Precious superstar Mentor who can do no wrong. What is a lowly Outsider like me even supposed to do?

Grin and bear it, I guess. It’s what I’ve been doing, anyway.

Back in the sparring ring, Aed offers me a hand. I briefly entertain the idea of kicking his legs out from under him, but think better of it. I don’t feel like getting manhandled into submission twice in a row.

Reluctantly, I accept his hand, but he pulls me up more forcefully than usual. I come up so fast I yelp in surprise as I bump into him, chest to chest.

“What did you really come here for?” he asks out of the blue, his hand still wrapped tightly around mine.

For the first time in a long time, I struggle to fire back with a nasty quip. I scrounge up every scrap of sass I can muster.

“Uh, what do you mean?” I scoff, doing my best impression of someone who isn’t completely unnerved by how much we’re touching. “I came here to improve my abilities to serve The Council and all of its honorable endeavors, obviously…”

I slowly but surely feel my train of thought start to unravel. He’s way too close to me, his warm, brown eyes and bambi lashes doing something to my composure that defies all logic.

“You know what I mean,” he insists. His voice sounds low and dangerous, not his usual teasing tone. “Half the time you show up here, you’re angrier than a sea bear. And then the other half your mind might as well be off-planet.”

He looks calm enough on the outside, but being this close means I can feel his heart racing. The way he’s looking at me is, for lack of a better word, intense.

“So, again. Why are you really here?”

My brain is suddenly reduced to a clusterfuck of misfirings. Everything is happening way too fast. I absolutely do come here on impulse–and not the studious kind–but I never really think past that. I’m just frustrated and stressed and lonely as hell, and stealing glances at Aed and his rock hard abs is my pitiful means of escapism. I’m still human, for crying out loud. I may be trapped in an alien world and treated like an exotic specimen, but I menstruate, I feel hormonal, and I get thirsty, just like everyone else. Shit, I don’t think I can even remember the last time someone touched me outside of the sparring ring.

All that being said, I never actually thought I would get this far. I feel my entire body start to burn up in panic and embarrassment.

“Aed,” I rasp. My voice sounds strange, like I’m not quite myself. Somehow, even though I don’t actually answer his question, I feel like I have all the same. “I–This is…isn’t this against the rules??”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. I hate how good he looks when he does that. When he does anything, really.

“Technically, the rules only apply to Mentors and students,” he explains helpfully. “Which we aren’t to one another. Have never been, actually, in case you forgot. Besides…”

The way he’s staring at me makes my knees weak. My mortifying behavior seems to confirm whatever it is he’s looking for. I don’t know exactly what he’s hinting at, but I can guess, and the guessing alone is enough to undo most of my petty resolve.

“…I didn’t really take you for being a stickler for rules.”

Electric heat shoots straight through my stomach, pooling between my legs.

“But–“

His lips are suddenly pressing into mine, tentative at first, then more probing and insistent. It’s shocking how little it takes for me to be made helpless. Against all better judgment, I yield by opening my mouth wider, my Free hand feeling up his toned chest. When we finally break for breath, I swear I can see stars beneath my eyelids.

A hundred questions race through my mind. Why here? Why now? Why me? But instead, I blurt out in a moment of stupefied candor, “Why are you so good at this?”

Mentors in Neon were practically monks. When they weren’t studying or meditating or teaching, they were bearing the enormous responsibility of representing the academy’s most enlightened elites. They certainly weren’t allowed to do things like kiss people or fool around. I mean, they took an oath and everything.

“Shut up,” Aed snarls.

The next kiss is even bolder, and this time he doesn’t let me interrupt, his tongue delving into my mouth in a way that is both sweet and demanding. It takes everything I’ve got to stay upright; his grip is very nearly the only thing keeping me standing.

My brain isn’t quite registering that any of this is real. Aed, the tormentor who has fueled and guided my martial training for years, the bane of my nightly existence whenever he invades my dreams like a fever. That Aed is making out with me as if it’s beyond his control, as though he’s been wanting this for as long as I have. The dam of repression has begun to crumble and the impending deluge feels monumentally inevitable.

It absolutely, irrevocably blows my mind.

I’m so flustered by these revelations and his astonishing, carnal finesse that I almost miss the sound of students approaching for the next class. Thankfully, Aed always seems to be two steps ahead of me. He hears them first and immediately scoops me up by the butt, forcing my legs to wrap around him, and books it toward the main office. I hold on for dear life, terrified and thrilled at the same time. I’ve never been picked up like a ragdoll before and I revel in the ease with which he carries me. That, and I may or may not also be feeling him up a bit, taking full advantage of the distraction. His back ripples beneath my fingers as he runs and his warm, firm grip on my Ass makes me feel all tingly inside.

Once we plow through the office door, I kick it shut with my foot as Aed scans the room for somewhere to hide. I want to feel a bud of pride over our seamless teamwork, but the sounds of rowdy students grow ever nearer. I’m craning my neck back to try and help when he beelines for one of the large storage closets and shuts the doors behind us.

I’m finally able to let go of my human steed, albeit a bit grudgingly. My feet touch the ground as gingerly as possible, but we’re packed like sardines in this storage locker along with spare uniforms and training weapons and there’s nowhere else to go. His chin accidentally grazes against my neck, the stubble tickling my skin.

“What do we do now?” I whisper, doing my best not to step on a stray faceguard.

I’m all too aware of the heat palpitating between us. The air feels limited, making it harder to breathe. Trying to find a more comfortable position, I start squirming as quietly as I can, only for Aed to hold me still by placing both of his hands on my hips. It works, mostly because his touch sends a shiver straight up my spine.

He shakes his head. I feel him do it more than I can see, courtesy of him being half a head taller and crushed up against me. His breath stirs my hair as he murmurs, “I’d stop doing that if I were you.”

I’m about to ask why when people burst through the doors to the training hall. Voices flood into the space, and it isn’t long before the office door flies open, too. I clam up right away, though I’m still able to physically sense the answer to my own question.

Through the tight fabric of our sparring uniforms, I can feel his raging boner. It makes my cheeks burn red Hot, but also gives me every reason to comply, as both of us are already struggling just to quiet our breathing. It would be humiliating beyond measure if we were caught like this. I try not to gulp for air like a fish out of water.

“Hey, wasn’t Aed scheduled before us?” we hear someone ask. A Mentor, presumably.

There’s a moment of thoughtful silence. I’m sweating again.

“Maybe he canceled?” a second Mentor offers. “Think he only had that class reserved for one. Maybe his student flaked.”

At this, I glance up in surprise, only to be met with a view of Aed’s neck and jawline. He told me everyone else bailed…which means he had wanted us to be alone. Were it anyone other than Aed, I wouldn’t bother thinking twice. But he is ridiculously popular and notoriously in demand; the thought of him wanting just me and only me makes my belly do a nervous flip flop. The fact that he also smells amazing does not help one bit.