The Bisexual Barista and the Pansexual Professor

Alex shrugged, leaning beside her. “It’s not so bad. I’ve always wondered what professors talk about when they’re not lecturing undergrads.”

“Mostly?” Morgan said, her lips quirking. “We talk about how much we hate lecturing undergrads.”

Alex laughed, the sound echoing out into the night. “I knew it.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the party fading behind them. Alex watched Morgan’s profile, the way the moonlight glinted off her glasses, the soft curve of her smile.

*She’s so beautiful*, they thought, a familiar warmth spreading through their chest. *And not just on the outside. She’s...*

“Penny for your thoughts?” Morgan asked, turning to face them.

Alex shook their head, feeling suddenly shy. “Nothing important.”

But Morgan wasn’t so easily deterred. “Tell me,” she urged, her hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from Alex’s forehead.

*When did I get so mushy?* Alex wondered, but they found themself speaking anyway. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am. To have met you. To... to get to be here with you.”

Morgan’s smile softened, her thumb tracing the line of Alex’s jaw. “I’m the lucky one,” she said quietly. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

Alex’s breath caught, their heart stuttering in their chest. *Is this really happening?*

But before they could respond, the balcony door slid open, revealing a tall, thin man with a shock of white hair and a disdainful expression. “Morgan,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “I thought I might find you out here. Hiding from your adoring public?”

Morgan stiffened almost imperceptibly, her hand falling away from Alex’s face. “Richard,” she said coolly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

The man – Richard – smirked, his gaze flicking dismissively over Alex. “Yes, well, I had some business to discuss with the dean. Imagine my surprise when I heard you’d brought a... date.” He eyed Alex up and down, his lips curling. “A bit young for you, isn’t he? And not exactly your usual type.”

Alex felt their face flush, anger sparking in their chest. *Who the fuck does this guy think he is?*

But Morgan stepped smoothly between them, her voice icy. “Actually, Richard, Alex is my girlfriend. And their pronouns are they/them. I’d appreciate it if you’d respect that.”

Richard’s eyebrows shot up, a nasty grin spreading across his face. “Girlfriend? Oh, how progressive of you, Morgan. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your... proclivities.”

*Proclivities?* Alex bristled, taking a step forward. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Morgan shot them a warning look before turning back to Richard, her expression glacial. “My private life is none of your concern, Richard. And I’d thank you to keep your bigoted opinions to yourself.”

Richard sneered. “Bigoted? Oh, that’s rich, coming from you. You forget, Morgan, I’ve seen the way you operate. Flitting from one bed to the next, never satisfied with just one--”

“Enough,” Morgan snapped, her voice cutting through the night air like a whip. “I won’t stand here and be insulted by a bitter old man who can’t handle the fact that I’ve moved on. If you’ll excuse us.”

She took Alex’s arm, steering them firmly back toward the balcony door. “Come on, Alex. We’re leaving.”

Alex followed, their mind reeling. *What the fuck just happened?* They cast a glance back at Richard, who was watching them go with a smug, self-satisfied expression.

*“You’ll never be taken seriously, Morgan,” he called after them. “Not when you insist on parading your... lifestyle around like this.”*

Morgan’s grip tightened on Alex’s arm, but she didn’t respond, her eyes fixed straight ahead as they wove through the crowd and out into the crisp night air.

They didn’t speak until they were safely in Morgan’s car, the engine humming quietly in the darkness. Alex watched her, worry gnawing at their gut. *She’s shaking*, they realized, noticing the fine tremor in Morgan’s hands as they gripped the steering wheel.

“Morgan?” they asked softly, reaching out to rest a hand on her thigh. “Are you okay?”

Morgan took a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice tight. “I just... I hate that man. I hate everything he represents.”

Alex hesitated, unsure how to proceed. *She’s always so put together*, they thought. *I’ve never seen her like this.* “Who is he?” they asked finally. “Richard.”

Morgan’s jaw clenched, her knuckles whitening on the wheel. “My ex-husband.”

Alex’s eyes widened. *Ex-husband?* They hadn’t even known Morgan had been married. “Oh.”

“We were young,” Morgan said, her voice flat. “Stupid. I thought I could... change him. Make him see that there was more to life than his narrow-minded worldview.” She laughed humorlessly. “Obviously, that didn’t work out so well.”

Alex nodded, their mind racing. *No wonder she’s so shaken up. That asshole was her husband.* “Morgan,” they said carefully, “What he said back there... about your proclivities. What was he talking about?”

Morgan sighed, leaning back against the headrest. “When we were together, I was... exploring my sexuality. Trying to figure out what I wanted. Who I wanted. Richard... he didn’t take it well.”

*Understatement of the century*, Alex thought, remembering the venom in Richard’s voice. “He was jealous,” they said, the pieces clicking into place.

“More than that,” Morgan said. “He was threatened. By the idea that I could want someone other than him. That my attraction wasn’t limited to just one person, one gender.” She turned to look at Alex, her eyes glinting in the darkness. “He thought it made me... less than. Unfaithful. Broken.”

Alex’s heart clenched, a wave of fierce protectiveness washing over them. *How dare he? How dare anyone make her feel that way?* “You’re not broken,” they said fiercely, reaching out to take Morgan’s hand. “You’re... you’re incredible. And brave. And anyone who can’t see that is an idiot.”

Morgan’s lips curved into a wobbly smile, her fingers tightening around Alex’s. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I... I needed to hear that.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of the evening pressing down on them. Then Morgan squeezed Alex’s hand one last time before letting go, turning the key in the ignition.

“Come on,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve both had enough of faculty parties for one night.”

As they pulled away from the curb, Alex couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride amidst the anger still simmering in their chest. *She faced him down*, they thought, watching Morgan’s profile in the dashboard light. *She stood up for me. For us.*

*And I’ll do the same for her*, they vowed silently. *No matter what.*

They rode in silence, the events of the evening hanging heavy between them. When they finally pulled up to Alex’s apartment, Morgan turned to them, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the car.

“Do you want to come in?” Alex asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

Morgan hesitated, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she admitted quietly. “But I understand if you’d rather--”

“Come in,” Alex said, cutting her off. “Please.”

Inside, they moved through the apartment in a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Alex put on a pot of coffee – a habit they’d picked up from too many late nights at the café – while Morgan settled onto the couch, kicking off her heels with a sigh.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Morgan said as Alex handed her a steaming mug. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

Alex settled beside her, tucking their legs underneath them. “You didn’t put me anywhere,” they said firmly. “That asshole was the problem, not you.”

Morgan smiled faintly, reaching out to brush her fingers along Alex’s wrist. “You’re sweet to say that.”

“I’m not being sweet,” Alex insisted. “I’m being honest. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Morgan’s gaze softened, her thumb tracing a slow circle on Alex’s skin. “I know,” she murmured. “I just... I hate that you had to see that. That part of my past.”

Alex set their mug down, turning to face her fully. “I don’t care about your past, Morgan. I care about you. About who you are now.”

Something flickered in Morgan’s eyes – gratitude, relief, something infinitely warmer. “Alex,” she whispered, and then she was leaning in, her lips brushing softly against Alex’s.

It was different from their first kiss – slower, deeper, weighted with the emotional turmoil of the evening. Alex felt something unfurl in their chest, a warmth spreading through their veins as Morgan’s fingers slid into their hair, anchoring them in place.

When they finally broke apart, breathing hard, Morgan rested her forehead against Alex’s, her eyes fluttering closed. “Stay with me tonight,” she breathed. “Please.”

Alex’s heart stuttered, their pulse racing at the raw vulnerability in her voice. “Yes,” they said, and it was as simple as that.