Fics like aortic work of art

Drip. Drip. Drip. This Thursday night ritual was immoral and grotesque, something he’d never bring up to even his closest confidants, or admit if questioned about it. But every week, he never dared miss it, always making up excuses to “commitments he made already” when coworkers or students ask him about Thursday evenings or nights. Every time he waited for the page on his secure browser to load, Shu’s stomach was in knots as he waited for the site to respond. The time was 9:29 p.m., so this boy should start in a few seconds, Shu thought to himself. He leaned back in his chair, biting the end of his pen gently and crossing his legs. When the camera went from dark to revealing the far-off object of fascination, he felt the knots untie and morph into butterflies—He wasn’t so much infatuated with him, as much as intrigued by him. Wanting more, hanging on every action. It was just a mild attraction, and nothing more (he told himself), one where he caught himself thinking about every once in a while when nothing else was filling his brain. - Shu is an art professor struggling with inspiration and now finds himself at a crossroads, turning to... unconventional means to get past this art block.

Fics like aortic work of art

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