It started with a twitch.
Not the full-body, toe-curling kind Elias usually got around Rael — just a small, inconvenient flicker of magic that sparked in the pit of his stomach right as Professor Thalen was talking about magical leylines.
"Elias Wynn," the professor said, pausing mid-sentence, peering over his glasses. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
Elias sat straight in his seat, trying to focus, trying not to think about Rael's mouth from twelve hours ago. "N-No, sir."
The twitch happened again — this time shooting through his spine like a jolt of lightning. He gripped the desk tightly. He could feel heat bubbling under his skin, and not the kind you get from embarrassment.
This was magic. Primordial. Writhing. Hungry.
"Don't suppress it," Rael's voice echoed in his head, from their training. "Let it flow through you."
Yeah. Easier said than done when you're in class.
A low, barely audible sound escaped Elias's throat — a gasp and a sigh wrapped into one.
Someone behind him snorted.
Professor Thalen raised a brow. "Do you need to be excused?"
Elias opened his mouth to say yes, but his voice cracked like he was going through puberty again. The heat curled lower, licking at his nerves, making his thighs tense. He bit his lip, praying no one could see the faint glow at his collarbone.
He stood so quickly his chair screeched. "Yes. Bathroom. Definitely."
He bolted.
Elias stumbled into the hall, nearly collapsing against the stone wall outside the classroom. His breath came in shallow pants. His fingers tingled.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.
Magic pulsed at his fingertips, more intense than before. It wasn't just the aftereffects of Rael — it was his magic mutating, shifting. No longer shy, no longer restrained. It wanted out.
"You can't keep doing this," he told himself. "You're not some... walking sex charm with magic leaking out every time you get flustered!"
But even now, just thinking about Rael's body — those arms, that smirk, that voice in his ear — sent a shiver through him.
"Shit."
He ducked into an empty supply closet.
Ten minutes later, Rael found him there — shirt open, hair a mess, magic crackling off his skin in soft blue embers.
"Tell me you didn't touch yourself in the janitor's closet," Rael said, shutting the door behind him.
"I tried not to," Elias groaned. "But it's like the magic is synced to my—my urges!"
Rael leaned against the shelf, arms crossed. "That's because it is. You're part-demon now, sweetheart. Pleasure is power. You keep trying to suppress it like it's shameful, and your magic's throwing a tantrum."
Elias stared at him. "That's the worst explanation I've ever heard, and also probably the most accurate."
Rael stepped closer, brushing a hand along Elias's chest, grounding him. "You've got a lot of power right now, and it's waking up faster than I thought. But we'll handle it. One very hands-on lesson at a time."
Elias's breath hitched. "Here?"
Rael gave a devilish grin. "What better way to teach control... than in chaos?"
Twenty minutes and one very thorough "lesson" later, Elias walked back into class, hair damp, lips bitten, and magic humming softly beneath his skin.
Professor Thalen paused mid-lecture, then simply said:
"Next time, take your textbooks to the bathroom."