CLASS PROJECT Making the Grade

Here it is again, springtime, sitting under my favorite tree, a Cinnamomum Camphor, in the Groves

of Rothspire Academy. A little writing desk sits next to a scrying pool under the boughs of my tree. My

name is Sylas Wright, and I guess you could say I’m a bit of a voyeur; then again, I think most Seers

are, and he’s a lot of an exhibitionist. So here I sit, writing and writing, writing what he does and with

whom he does it. I can’t help it; I’m enamored with him.

Who, you ask? Hymeros Admetos Metaxas; everyone calls him Meto.
Though not tall, he bears the stature of a fallen star—broad, sensual, grounding. The kind of
body that invites both devotion and surrender. Golden hair flares around his head like a sun-cap-
tured mid-rise, and his eyes—those impossible, ocean-blue eyes—hold the weight of desire and the
ache of memory.
He has an unfair advantage, of course; you can feel the arousal wash off him; it’s like a sum-
mer breeze carrying all your favorite spices—for me, it’s saffron and fenugreek.
I stir the waters of the pool—there he is, in Ethical Reasoning and Metaphysical Responsi-
bility with Ms. Nyx, our professor, if you can stand the irony.
He’s framed in the bay window, naked, skin glowing with spent effort, the afternoon sun once more
lighting him with a halo. Bastard: I can’t help but chuckle to myself. Ms. Nyx stretched out nude
across her desk, feverish from their passion.
Oh… he won’t see this coming, but will he do it? I muse.
“Meto,” his name like honey on her lips, Rowena Nyx speaks. “We’ve seen how proficient
you are with your powers when it comes to women,” he chuckles, “but have you ever tried your gift
on a man?”
His voice is soothing and slow, like breath against your skin. “Well, a little extra credit in
English Lit can never hurt,” Meto teases, his chuckle low and warm.
Rowena’s pale skin flushes, responding, “No, I was thinking of someone a little closer to
your age.” Her voice brimmed with quiet delight.
He thinks he sees the trap—doubt flickers over his beautiful face. Rowena slips from atop
her desk with languid grace. “Mr. Ravensworth,” the trap is sprung, “one of the young men I always
see you in the halls with. Capture him in your thrall, seduce him.”
To Meto’s credit, he doesn’t panic like a typical guy, a straight guy, would have. “If I don’t?”
he asks, stalking towards her; the scent of Petrichor and jasmine tightens her nipples.

This time, a chuckle chimes from her throat, “Well, Mr. Ravensworth just became 60% of
your grade this semester.” She strides towards him, meeting him halfway.
With an amused look, he drags his fingers along her sides, his thumb lingering along the side
of her breast. “Well, for 60% of my grade, then!” he draws her in for a long pull of her lips, “I
should probably get started on my class project.” Getting dressed, he walks towards the bay win-
dows again. “Sylas,” he asks as Rowena blanches, “I’ll be down in a few. Will you be able to tell me
where Rev is by then?”
I close my journal, for now, laughing, and cast my sight into the scrying pool.
Here he comes, Meto, walking down the path towards me. His school tie hangs from his back
pocket, and his shirt is untucked and barely buttoned. As usual, his uniform pants are slightly low.
“Sylas, have you found Rev yet?” he inquires, with his belt still unbuckled, another detail he has
overlooked.
I’m pretty sure he knows what he does to me, but I can’t help but give him an admiring
smile. “Are you really going to try seducing Rev?” I ask.
“Try!? You doubt me?” he gives me his best incredulous look as though he’s offended.
“Pretty sure I could seduce you if you prefer.” He whispers in my ear as he runs a finger along the
outline of my hard cock.
Drawing a deep sigh, “Yeah, well, not sure that your powers work on men, remember?”
Licking my lips, I continue, “But I mean, won’t it be weird; we’ve been friends for eight, no, nine
years.” I continued as though he wasn’t petting me.
Watching him with Rev? I’ve never seen him watch a guy like that. Have I?
Staring into my scrying pool, he sees only his reflection; seeing isn’t his gift, but he stares like he sees
something important, nonetheless.
“I’ve thought about it before, not with Rev, but with a guy; see how it feels.”
A confession to the scrying pool, a confession I think he doesn’t want to be entered into one
of my Journals. It’s why he’s saying it in person.

“So two things, one…” he actually puts a finger up. “If I’m going to be required to explore
that desire- he won’t freak out about it- hopefully. If my powers don’t work on guys and he’s not
interested in trying it, I can… we can leave it at that, and it won’t destroy our friendship.”
Wow, I did not see that coming; he would rather walk naked down the school halls than
share emotions. Of course, he’d enjoy the stares and slack jaws. I hugged him from behind, resting
my slightly taller body against the heat of his back and laying my head on his shoulder.
“Okay, I can understand that, and you’re right. Rev would take it … in stride, and you al-
ready flirt with him as much as you flirt with anybody else anyway.” I say as I run a hand up under
the tails of his shirt. His skin is sometimes like a field of electricity; for instance, now he tenses when
I drag my nails along his obliques. Oh, that summer wind, that saffron-scented breeze. “And what’s
two?”
He smiles that salacious smile, “It IS 60 percent of my grade this semester.”
I give him the disapproving look that his comment deserves, “Well, he’s finishing putting
equipment away at the track.” I point through a stand of trees, “Cut through there; you should get to
the locker room just a few minutes before Rev.”
He turned to me with a smile and a kiss, a kiss that wasn’t chaste. “Thanks, Sylas.” Off he
goes, and I go back to my writing table, adjusting myself as I do; he knew better than to ask.
The professors here like to discuss how our powers work, primarily in theory. Meto and I talked
about it once; he wondered how it feels to SEE as I do, and I told him, but that’s not this story.
When I asked him about his powers…
“Have you ever held your breath? Like held it until you were red
and ready to burst? That’s what it feels like. When I was younger, a kid, it
was easier to breathe before my powers started to grow. Now, I’m always
holding my breath, taking little sips from Time to Time. Then I let go and
breathe freely, and my power boils out on that breath.”
He didn’t look at me while we discussed his powers, how they’re more robust with touch,
and some of the implications of his description for the world.
I swirl the waters of the scrying pool.

Locking the equipment shed, Rev heads for the locker room’s showers to clean off the sweat
and dirt of practice. He doesn’t know it yet, but Meto is already in there, fidgeting with his shirttail, a
nice corner where he’ll see Rev but not be seen. Again, he’s usually bolder.
Rev entered the not-as-empty locker room, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt along his long, ath-
letic frame and over his head. Like a moment slowed to crystal clarity. Meto takes inventory of Rev,
his taut stomach, and the slight dimpling of his abs; then his lats, the nickel-size nipples crowning his
pecs, and Meto’s breath catches.
*Would he let me run my tongue along the words, the prayer on his chest?* he thinks.
The brief bulge of his arms, the geometric shapes tattooed on his right forearm, all this as
Rev’s shirt clears his head and lands on the bench. Turning, Rev props first one foot, then the other
on the bench, taking his shoes and socks off, bending over as he does. Rev’s shorts pull tight across
his ass; translucent with sweat, Meto can see the imprint of the jockstraps framing his cheeks as they
do.
*What would it be like to run my hand up the leg of his shorts and cup his ass?* Meto wonders, his
breath coming a little faster.
His shorts on the ground, Rev stretches his arms into the air, arching his back slightly.
“Damn, Coach!” he talks to himself, legs straight, bending at the waist, touching his extended fingers
to his toes. Just two straps frame the globes of Rev’s ass, and his cheeks part just a hint. “Way to
work us; I’m going to be sore.” Finally free of his jockstrap, Rev grabs his towel and heads, naked,
for the shower room.
Meto hears the water load in the silence of the locker room, and he moves to Rev’s clothes, drop-
ping his shirt beside them. Hesitantly, he picks up Rev’s jock. Meto’s own arousal, not the usual
summer breeze, but like a gale-force wind, blows through the locker room. Meto hesitantly gathers
Rev’s jock up to his face and draws in the musty aroma. The mystical nature of his arousal forces his
power through the room into the showers, carrying on the steam.
Rev, breathing deeply, smells clover… warmed by the sun- so he has noticed before.
Meto sheds his clothes and heads towards the showers. He took a deep breath, his mask of
bravado in place, a fire in his eyes. There, Rev stands under the spray, water running down the
crease between his pecs, over his taut stomach, into his sugar brown pubes, streaming from the end
of his penis. Ample in size, not yet fully erect, but not completely soft. He doesn’t see Meto, not
with his head tilted back, his eyes closed.

*We’ve seen each other naked- even showered together, but I’ve never seen him like this.* Meto admits to
himself.
Without opening his eyes, Rev turns, reaching for the shampoo dispenser. He steps from
under the spray, lathering his hair, suds sliding down his back, caressing his spine, and seeping be-
tween his ass cheeks. The strain of Meto’s erection makes veins protrude along his generous, uncut
length. Meto breathes; he’s not holding his breath anymore, and it raises goosebumps along Rev’s
skin.
Meto approaches quietly like a predator, reaching for the soap; lathering it in his hands, he
rubs it across Rev’s back, massaging muscles and trailing fingers down his spine. “Wha!?” Rev
jumps, almost slipping on the tiles. “The hell, boy, you scared me; I thought I was alone here.”
Meto, bracing Rev, then gently pushes his shoulder, turning Rev’s back to face the wall. He
reaches past Rev to the dispenser, takes more soap, builds another lather, and massages his back.
“How was practice?” he asks.
“You know, Coach,” Rev sighs, enjoying the massage, “he likes to push and put us through
our paces.” A moan slips from his lips as he asks, “What about you? How’d your meeting with Ms.
Nix go?”
Meto, “I just―“ More soap, more lather, trying to hide his nerves. “Stressing,” he turns Rev
to face him, “new project.” He tells Rev as he massages his pecs. “And―I―” his fingers trace the
prayer, “I need―want―I want to try something―something with you?”
Rev looks down at Meto’s eyes, then slides past to his waist. “Okay…,” he says a little
hoarsely, seeing Meto’s erection standing high against his stomach.
Meto slides his right hand over Rev’s nipple; he shivers; Rev’s power spikes the air. Meto’s
hands continue along his neck, pulling Rev down to him. Their lips meet tentatively, inhaling the
magic in the air; Meto pulls Rev closer. His left hand caresses Rev’s pec, his thumb pressing and cir-
cling Rev’s nipple, causing Rev to moan and open his mouth. Meto slips his tongue in, expertly
coaxing Rev’s tongue out. He sucks, nips, making love to Rev’s tongue, and running his right hand
across Rev’s shoulder, down his arm, taking his hand, and wrapping it behind himself.
Rev’s hand roams along Meto’s back, trailing his power along Meto’s spine. Tracing his fin-
gers lower and finally cupping Meto’s ass cheek, then bringing his left up, taking Meto’s other cheek

as well. Continuing to kiss, Rev lifted Meto’s right knee, then Meto’s. Meto wrapped his legs around
Rev, driving their mutual erections together.
Meto’s hands slid around Rev’s neck, wrapping his arm to pull Rev deeper into their kiss;
Meto ground his hard cock against Rev’s. Neither can tell whether it’s the water making them slick.
Breaking the kiss, “Wait!” Meto says breathlessly, “I want to try something else- if you let
me.” Rev lowers Meto back to the floor, and with Meto’s hands on Rev’s hips, he walks Rev
through the shower spray, rinsing them as they go, to press Rev against the tiled wall. Rev bumps
against the wall; his breath forced slightly from his body. Meto breathes more power into the room;
he kisses Rev again, then works along Rev’s jaw, licking his collarbone down his pec. Kissing then
sucking on Rev’s nipple for a moment, causing him to shiver again, Meto continues to kiss his way
down Rev’s torso. On his knees, tracing his hands up Rev’s thighs, he kisses the hip and slowly
brings his right hand along the inside of Rev’s thigh, gently cupping his balls.
Reverently, Meto lays Rev’s firm shaft on the palm of his hand, biting his bottom lip as he
examines it. “I don’t think I ever noticed how cute that is when you do that,” Rev whispers.
“What?” asked Meto breathlessly, his eyes glassy with desire as he looked up from his spot
on the floor.
“When you bite your lip,” Rev tells him, wrapping Meto’s hand around his throbbing mem-
ber. “Is this what you wanted to try?” he asks.
Letting Rev guide his hand, he pulls Rev’s cock to the side, leaning in, bringing his face
close, kissing the crease where Rev’s leg meets his groin. His nose takes in the damp, musky scent of
Rev’s pubes. He drags Rev’s cock along his cheek until he can place little kisses on Rev’s bell end.
Gradually, Meto takes first Rev’s crown, swabbing his tongue across the tip, letting the shaft
slide into his mouth as he flattens his tongue. Breathing through his nose, Meto takes more of Rev
into his mouth until Rev’s long cock hits the back of his throat, leaving enough inches still for his
hand to wrap around. Slowly, he drags the member back out until his lips lock around just the
crown, swirling his tongue under the ridge and drawing him back into his mouth, building up pres-
sure and speed, each thrust taking in more.
The pressure of Rev’s magic builds as a fine tremor starts in his legs, and Meto pulls off, a
line of spittle connecting his lips and Rev’s tip.
“Why…” Rev asks breathlessly, “… why did you stop?”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” Looking up the long line of Rev’s body, “there’s definitely more.”
Rev’s chest is mottled with the rush of excitement and the heat of the shower room. His breath ca-
resses Rev’s crown as he smiles up at Rev with just a hint of tease as he rises to meet Rev’s lips again
with more passion.
Rev takes Meto by the ass. Their kiss is like a rush as Meto breathes his power over Rev’s
tongue and into his mouth, and Rev throbs against his abs, his precum dripping onto Meto’s dick
and magic out into the room. Taking him by the cock, Meto pulls him back under the shower spray.
“Have to make sure we’re really clean for the next part.” Meto’s eyes light up like lightning as power
breathes out of him; the amber of Rev’s eyes, like fire on the plains, answer with his magic. They
wash each other as once again they fall into the lips of the other.
The kiss deepens, and hands roam their respective landscapes, Rev bringing his hands from
behind Meto, over his shoulders, and down his arms. Meto swipes his hands down Rev’s lats, wrap-
ping them down his ass, caressing, squeezing. Rev’s hands slide from Meto’s arms over his stomach
and up, tickling his ribs and palming his pecs. Meto’s hands squeeze, rubbing as they move closer
together, slowly parting Rev’s cheeks as his fingers trail in. Meto’s soap-slicked finger trailed down
the crevices of Rev’s ass, his fingertip brushing gently against Rev’s pucker. The wind of Meto’s
power fanned the flames in Rev, causing the pressure to blossom like fire. Meto swallows Rev’s
moan, drinking in the heat as he slowly drags his finger back and forth over the crease between
Rev’s globes. Rev draws his hands up from Meto’s chest, up his strong neck, running his fingers into
Meto’s matted golden waves. Forcing their mouths apart, Rev opens his mouth to say something,
but Meto beats him to it. With power in his voice and command in his tone, Meto says, “Time to
rinse off again.” Meto’s sultry voice echoes in Rev’s ear. Rinsed, Meto turns Rev to face the wall,
then slides back onto his knees.
“Wait,” Rev breathes out slowly, “what….” Meto silences him as he dives face-first into
Rev’s round, muscled ass. Kissing and licking between the cheeks, he nibbles gently at the edge of
Rev’s rim, driving in his tongue. Meto slides a finger up along his tongue, twisting, licking, and nip-
ping. “Silver’s light….” Those words slip his lips and arcane energy washes across Meto. He slides a
second finger with the first, twisting and scissors. Opening Rev up, he breathes power in, kissing
and chewing at Rev’s ass. Rev whispers incoherently at first, then with rhythm, an incantation. 

Finally, a third finger joins the rest, twisting as Meto stands, running his other hand up Rev’s spine,
subtly bending Rev over as he does.

Meto and Rev’s energies swirl and wash through the room, coming back to spill over them
like waves, drowning in power between them. Rev’s incantation reverberated in the walls.
“Don’t.” Rev whispers, “Please…” he begs, “…More!” he gasps as Meto slowly draws his
fingers out of Rev.
Laying the tip of his cock between Rev’s cheeks, “Rev?” Meto asks.
Rev nods his head in a hesitant answer. “Yes.”
Meto rubs his crown over the opening in Rev’s ass, smearing his precum over his tip, mixing
it with his spit. Slowly, he pushes forward, meeting resistance, “Breathe… breathe out.” Meto
mummed, his power rippling up Rev’s spine. As Meto moved forward this time, Rev pushed back to
meet him. The ridge of Meto’s crown crested the rim of Rev’s ass, and Rev’s incantation stuttered,
then renewed. Wildfires consumed the savanna within, power riding the two of them. Meto slides
into Rev by inches, each inch like the stocking steps of a lion about to pounce. Pounce he does as
half-buried Meto presses, then runs over Rev’s prostate. Again, Rev’s voice falters; again, it strength-
ens. Meto starts to withdraw once more, grazing Rev’s prostate, trembling. Rev holds his moaning
refrain. Meto starts to thrust back in, driving further over it, back and forth, sliding in until Rev can
feel Meto’s pubes brush his ass.
Rev, “Silver’s light! Oh.. fu..!” his exclamation cut short with another thrust from Meto.
Their powers mingle until the storm over the Savana Wildfire threatens to consume everything. The
pressure of their power, like a living weight in the room, expanding, threatening to blow. At the very
edge, Meto pulls out, drawing Rev to the floor, kissing the edge of his sweat-slicked lips as his
moaned incantation continues.
Laying Rev on his back, the wet floor tamping the flames for just a moment, Meto goes
down on Rev’s dick. One, he dribbles a little spit; two, he draws the tender flesh into his mouth;

three, Rev’s rod, solid as the earth, the fires restoked. Meto positions himself over Rev, slowly slid-
ing his ass back, forcing Rev’s cock back and between his cheeks. Placing his left hand firmly on
Rev’s pec, reaching back with his right, and sliding his ass slightly against Rev, he lines Rev’s cock
with his hole, pressing the tip against his pucker. Breathing deeply, he sets himself firmly against the
intruder and feels a… pop as Rev rises and meets him. Through gritted teeth, the groaning incanta-
tion continues, falling into the piercing rhythm of Rev’s pace, brushing lightly, then roughly over
Meto’s prostate. Rev’s rhythm builds, battering Meto’s gland, and Meto cries as each strike runs
through him like lightning. Each strike sparked a new fire, the storm becoming a whirlwind of
flames. Harder, faster, Rev breaks. “Aaagh! Damn, YES!” driving himself up, pulling Meto, crashing
down the tension of the mixed energies building to a crescendo. Meto shoots, his first rope streaking
across Rev’s face; he spasms around Rev’s cock, feeling the force of that first strike.
The shower pipes are vibrating.
Meto’s next shot leaves a silvery cord across Rev’s chin & neck; again, he spasms, again that
striking force.
The shower nozzles explode, and the room is awash in spray and steam.
Then, the silent explosion, the force of the powers crashing out soundlessly. Rev’s eyes roll
back as he cums, Meto momentarily coating Rev’s chest and abs before the spray washes his cum
away. Meto leans down and places a kiss on Rev’s right eyelid. “Okay…” the spark of energy audible
in Meto’s voice, “That was …” he pauses, looking to Rev.
“Damn…” Says Rev, wearing a well-worn smile and chuckling, “… that was… fun!”
Meto, kneeling back on his heels, grinding playfully along Rev’s shaft still within him. Slowly
pulling off Rev’s still-hard dick, then standing and stretching under the many sprays of water, Meto
asks, “Fun enough… you would do it again?”

“With you…” starts Rev, “…yeah, …yeah, I’d be willing to do it again.” Angling his head
up, “NOT NOW! I’m spent after that!” Says Rev, laughing, and lays his head back down on the tile.
Helping Rev up, Meto chuckles, “That’s good… That takes… some of the stress I was feel-
ing.”
“About what?” Rev starts, then remembers, “Your project? After a fuck like that, you go
back to thinking about homework! Wow!” Rev laughs.
“It’s not like that!” starting at the accusation. Rev laughs at his embarrassment as he flushes,
even under the cooling water. Rev’s laugh slowed with suspicion. “Okay, so, the thing is, my project
was to seduce you … ahem … SEDUCE … seduce you.” Meto finally gets out.
Rev thinks for a moment, leaving Meto in silence. “How long did you think that over?” he
asks calmly.
“Well, I talked to Sylas about it for a few minutes…” trailing off.
“The Class Project part?” interrupts Rev.
“You’re 60% of my semester grade?” Meto says with outstretched hands.
Taking one of Meto’s offered hands, they pull themselves together. Kissing him, “You are
incorrigible.” He tells him, then kisses him again. “Is that why you asked, ‘If I would do it again?’”

“No.” Meto stated, then “Well… not intentionally… no, but I would have been disap-
pointed if I didn’t get a chance to do that again. If YOU,” he emphasized to Rev,” felt differently,
then we might have a problem, and that would be my fault.”
Kissing Meto again, “Okay, you really did think about it, and it wasn’t a total lack of impulse
control. I’d still say I look forward to some more of that.” Rev pulled him in for a hug. “I didn’t hate
it, but you are the only guy I’ll ever do that with.” Leaning into Meto’s ear. “Now, just one more
question, then I want to get cleaned up and dry off,” whispers Rev.
“Yeah, he’s watching….” Meto whispers back as he licks the hell out of Rev’s ear, smiling.