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‘Mine’ is Enough Of A Prefix (But ‘Doctor’ Works Too)

Summary:

And so they got married, which was the best idea either of them had ever had, with deciding to work together coming in at a close second.

Notes:

Happy Valentine’s Day freaks. As a gift, I bring you the finale of the Pebe collegeverse.
Big thanks to Red and Molly who got as enthusiastic about professor Gabe as I did. Also shoutout to the rest of the Foblr Union, y’all keep me in this shit.
Enjoy! Xx

Work Text:

For Pete and Gabe, nothing had ever been “too far.” Not getting engaged, originally as a joke, fresh out of college after being together for a year and a half. Not staying engaged for fourteen years like some weird Guys and Dolls situation. Not both deciding to get their PHDs and become professors because the idea of doing anything without each other was too much to bear. Not inviting all their students to their wedding. Nothing. 

Mostly, it was Gabe. That man would do anything for the bit, even as a 44 year old grown adult who had a mortgage and owned a Cuisinart. This included getting down on one knee at some shitty Italian restaurant purely for the free cannoli. A few days later, he asked Pete why hadn’t taken off his (ugly as sin) thrift store ring, and Pete had told him No take backs. 

And so they got married, which was the best idea either of them had ever had, with deciding to work together coming in at a close second.

Pete loved working with his husband because, in addition to receiving Father’s Day cards addressed to both of them from students, he also got to bend Gabe over his desk in their shared office every time their schedules lined up. It was great. 

And he did it. 

A lot. 

See, usually it was Gabe with the juvenile ideas and general lack of dignity. 

Keyword: Usually. 

The second that Gabe walked through the door of their office, Pete was grabbing him by his tie and pulling him in for a kiss. Gabe had always had to lean down a substantial amount to kiss Pete, something that all of their friends found very funny. 

“Did you flip the sign on the door?” Pete said, pulling away for just a moment. 

Gabe shook his head, “Technically it’s our office hours.” 

“I know that. But I have other plans,” Pete said, running his tongue over his top teeth. 

“What if someone needs to come see one of us?” 

“They can wait.” 

“Do you not care about the academic success of our students?” Gabe chided playfully. 

“I care about sucking your dick more.”

“I’m not flipping the sign.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to be quick, then.” 

Gabe grinned and kissed Pete again. “I like the way you think,” he said against his husband’s lips. 

“I know. That’s why you married me.” 

Gabe let Pete push him backwards into his desk chair, shedding his suit jacket as he went. 

“You’re always so easy,” Pete purred, trailing his hand down his husband’s body as he sank to the floor. His knees cracked loudly and he had to give Gabe a death glare for laughing. 

We’re too old for this shit

“I’m only easy because you’re a bitch when I’m not,” Gabe teased as Pete undid his belt. 

“I’ll show you bitchy if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Pete said. 

“Oh yeah? Make m- oh fuck…” Gabe trailed off as Pete pulled his cock out of his pants and fit his mouth over the head. Pete hummed in satisfaction, feeling a hand snake into his hair, fingers winding through long strands. Gabe loved Pete’s long hair for a lot of reasons, but being able to pull on it was definitely one of them. 

Being a self-proclaimed (and husband-proclaimed) champion cocksucker, it didn’t take Pete long to find a rhythm, bobbing his head in time with his hand that was working most of Gabe’s dick. Gabe was big and, for the sake of his lecturing abilities, Pete couldn’t take it all the way down his throat like he could in his 20s. So, he learned to adapt. 

The main issue with office sex was that Gabe never seemed to realize how loud he was being. Or maybe he knew exactly how loud he was being and was doing it purposefully on account of his not-so-mild exhibitionism. Pete wouldn’t put it past him. He would always scold Gabe for it afterwards and occasionally Patrick, whose office was across the hall, would slide a note under their door asking them to please fuck quieter

Despite all of that, Gabe’s low moans and hissed curses only egged Pete on. He traced the veins of Gabe’s dick with his tongue and lapped at the slit, drawing more unholy noises out of his husband. Pete could feel his own erection straining against his pants just from having Gabe’s cock in his mouth, which was more irritating than anything because he knew they wouldn’t have time for Gabe to return the favor. But he tried to ignore it, instead focusing on making his husband feel good. 

And it seemed to work, because a few moments later, Gabe gave Pete’s hair a warning tug and came hot and thick down his throat. Pete swallowed with no hesitation. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the taste, but it was the least messy option. Plus, he loved to make a big show of wiping his mouth and grinning after pulling off, just to watch Gabe’s eyes widen. 

After tucking himself back into his pants, Gabe grabbed Pete and dragged him halfway into his lap and kissed him hard, just as there was a knock on their office door. The two of them shared a brief Oh Shit look, before scrambling to their respective desks and attempting to look like they had been doing something productive and not each other. 

“Come on in!” 

-

When they took the train home that night, Pete rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder and thought about how he would do the exact same thing in college on the way home from parties. If only he could tell his 18 year old self that his tall idiot roommate would one day become his tall idiot husband. 18 year old Pete’s head would probably explode. And understandably so. Twenty five years later, Pete still couldn’t believe how lucky he was. 

They walked to their apartment from the train station hand in hand, stopping on the way to pick up sandwiches for dinner, and talked about their days. Gabe had ordered matching t-shirts for all the members of his sewing club and was very pleased with himself and his design choices. The sewing circle was something that Gabe took extremely seriously. It was his baby. Pajamas were the required dress code for every meeting, and Gabe had even bought himself some very grandpa-esque matching sets specifically for meetings (Pete wouldn’t let him wear them in the house. They were abhorrent.) One time, he went full Ebeneezer Scrooge and showed up wearing a long nightdress and cap. And after every circle meeting, Gabe would show Pete his sewing projects while practically jumping up and down with excitement and Pete found him so goddamn endearing he couldn’t not fuck him.

In fact, as soon as their shoes and jackets were off and their sandwiches were tossed on the counter, Pete practically dragged Gabe to their bedroom and pushed him down on the bed. 

“Do I not get to eat first?” Gabe asked, raising an eyebrow as Pete climbed on top of him. 

“No. You’ve made me wait all damn day for this,” Pete said, a sternness slipping into his voice. 

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to blow me during office hours.” 

“Shut up and take your shirt off or I’ll gag you with it.” 

Gabe didn’t protest any further and stripped obediently. As big as he pretended to be, he was all talk, and he would do anything to please his husband. 

“Good boy,” Pete said, pulling his own shirt over his head, before leaning down to press searing kisses to Gabe’s chest. He took his time getting Gabe worked up, licking over his nipples and sucking hickeys everywhere that a shirt would cover. He teased and teased until Gabe’s breath came in short pants and he clawed at Pete’s back, begging him to do something. 

“What’s wrong, babe? Something you want?” Pete taunted. Gabe let out a groan, rolling his hips upward to rut against Pete. They both gasped at the friction, but Pete still had composure to maintain. 

“Come on, use your words, sweetheart,” Pete murmured right in Gabe’s ear. 

Gabe’s eyes snapped open and locked onto Pete’s with intensity like a wild dog, “I need you inside me. Right. Now.” 

And, well, how could Pete say no to that? 

After stripping off the rest of his clothes as fast as humanly possible and instructing Gabe to do the same, Pete reached over and grabbed the nearly-empty bottle of lube from their nightstand. 

He took a moment to admire his husband. His drop-dead gorgeous husband with tan skin glistening with sweat and dotted with gentle freckles, ridiculously long legs spread wide, and big brown eyes pleading and desperate. Pete needed to rearrange his guts or he would probably die. Or something. 

Pete slicked his fingers generously, immediately crossing two and pushing them in because Gabe was a freak who loved the way that the stretch hurt. Gabe all but screamed at that, (which was the reason their old neighbors moved out) but Pete gave him a look that shut him up. As much as he loved how loud Gabe was, they really didn’t need another noise complaint. 

Pete started to open Gabe up with practiced expertise, scissoring his fingers and basking in Gabe’s stifled moans and whimpers. 

By the time Pete slid in a 3rd finger, Gabe was begging.

 “Please, Petey. I need it. I need you to fuck me. Please .” 

“God, you’re needy,” Pete teased, pulling his fingers out and spreading the excess lube over his cock. He leaned forward to kiss the hollow of Gabe’s throat and lick the sweat from his skin, before lining the head of his cock up with Gabe’s entrance and pushing in slowly. Immediately, he groaned at how agonizingly warm and tight it was. The feeling would truly never get old.

“You always feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Pete murmured as he fully seated himself. 

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Stop talking and fuck me”

In response, Pete pulled all the way out and then slammed back in as hard as he could, drawing a high-pitched yelp out of his husband’s throat. 

“Yknow, I was going to be nice and let you adjust,” Pete mused, “but clearly you’re too desperate to wait.”  

The pace that Pete set was brutal enough to ensure that Gabe would not be able to walk correctly the next day. Thankfully, it was Friday night, and the only person that would be there to make fun of him was Pete. 

Gabe raked his nails down his husband’s back, leaving long scratches as a thank you gift for the hickeys and bite marks. He loved marking up Pete just as much as Pete loved marking him up. Pete moaned loudly in response, lowering his head to breathe hot against Gabe’s neck and whisper filthy things in his ear. He could feel the familiar heat start to pool in his abdomen. 

“Please…Pete. Touch me. Please,” Gabe whined.

“No. You’re gonna cum just from having my cock inside you,” Pete said, his lips brushing against his husband's earlobe, which he then nipped gently. 

Gabe’s whimper of protest quickly turned into a loud cry as Pete hit his prostate dead-on. Pete didn’t have the heart to silence him this time. In fact, he wanted everyone in a 5 mile radius to know how much Dr. Gabriel Saporta-Wentz, PhD loved getting fucked

Pete’s breathing was getting quicker by the second as his orgasm began to wash over him. 

“Gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” Pete choked out, “gonna fill you up and make you mine.”

Gabe already was his. He had been for the last 25 years. And Pete had finished inside of him every single time they fucked over the course of those 25 years. But Gabe had a thing about it. And Pete was more than happy to indulge his husband. 

Before he could even blink, Pete was driving himself into Gabe as far as humanly possible and cumming so hard his vision went white for a moment. Gabe followed immediately upon feeling Pete release inside of him. 

“Careful when you pull out,” Gabe said after he had caught his breath.

“You want me to put the plug in you?” Pete asked. That was his favorite thing to do, make Gabe sit for hours with Pete’s cum plugged up inside of him. 

Gabe shook his head, “Not today. Just like to feel it drip out of me.” 

Christ, that man had no shame. 

Pete huffed a laugh and slid out of Gabe slowly, immediately clambering down to crouch between his husband's legs so he could watch the cum leak from his spent hole, only moving when Gabe dragged him up for a kiss. 

“Clean up, then dinner?” Pete suggested, planting a kiss on the tip of Gabe’s nose.

“Only if we can shower together,” Gabe said. 

And so they did. They spent a solid thirty minutes washing each other's hair and making out until the water ran cold. And afterwards, they plopped down on the couch and ate their sandwiches while watching Chopped because that’s what you do when you’re old and gay and married. They played smash or pass with the contestants and Gabe balled up his sandwich wrapper and launched it at the trashcan, missing by a long shot, and Pete made fun of him for the next twenty minutes. It was peaceful. Pure contentment. 

“You know how I gave my kids that assignment where they have to design an album cover?” Gabe asked. He was all sprawled out on the couch with his legs resting on top of Pete’s. Always way too tall to fit anywhere comfortably. 

“Yeah,” Pete said, absentmindedly running his hand over the soft flannel of Gabe’s pajama pants. 

“I think I’m gonna offer them extra credit if they can figure out how to hide a picture of my face somewhere in there.” 

“God, you’re ridiculous,” Pete said, unabashed affection seeping into his voice.

“I know. That’s why you married me.” 

 

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