I Think I Like It

I did see my friends, at one point. Chris was talking to the girl in the blue dress, who was crying, and Joe was whispering what I could only assume were words of ‘encouragement’ to Chris (who, in his defense, was probably just trying to comfort her).
“Looks like I made your girlfriend cry.” Mr. Way pointed out, grinning smugly.
“Not my girlfriend.” I mumbled.
“Sure she is. Go on, Frankie, why don’t you let her suck your dick to make her feel better?”
“You’re a child.” I said, rolling my eyes (although I was aware he couldn’t see me).
“No, I’m jealous. There’s a difference.” He said matter-of-factly. I tried to not let the confession throw me off.
“Is there?” I teased.
“Yes. If I were being childish, I’d call her names and make you promise you wanted me more. If I was being jealous, I would be constantly reassuring myself with the fact that I’m going to fuck you later.”
“And you’re doing the latter?” I said, my voice trembling. He stopped abruptly and slid a single finger down my cheek, smiling fondly.
“Only if you want me to.” He whispered, cupping my cheek.
“Do I have to decide now?” I said weakly. He laughed and shook his head.
“Of course not.” He smiled, and resumed walking, still holding my hand proudly in his. To my surprise, we didn’t get approached by anyone else, so I assumed that my costume couldn’t be that bad.
“So what changed?” I said suddenly.
“You change the topic of conversation really frequently and really dramatically. Has anyone ever told you that?” he replied.
“Um. No.”
“Oh. You do. It’s adorable. Anyway, what changed when?”
“Our agreement. Why is this okay now?” I asked. Despite being overjoyed at how things worked out, I still needed answers. He owed me at least that.
He thought about it for a moment before replying.
“I’m assuming you want me to be brutally honest, here.”
“I do.”
“Okay. I got sick and tired of masturbating over you.” He said bluntly. I stopped walking and stared at him, wide-eyed.
“What?”
“Every night it was me just imagining you. Remembering when you touched yourself in my classroom, or that time you were staring at me in the lunch hall, or all of the damn times that you look at me like you’d jump me right then and there if you could. You drive me fucking crazy, Frank. It just got to the point where I couldn’t keep doing it. I mean, it hasn’t been long, I know, but that one week was bad enough, and I can’t do that every week until you leave. I need you, Frank. You can have no fucking clue about how much I want you.”
“So you’re risking your job, and my education, and both of our potential futures, so you don’t have to fantasise about me anymore?”
“Jesus, Frank, when you say it like that it sounds bad.” He laughed nervously.
“It’s a bit bad.” I said, mostly teasing. He slid a hand over the curve of my ass, squeezing lightly.
“It’s not all that bad. Try to imagine what it felt like for me, okay? So, I’ve got this adorable kid in my class, who I’m a little bit fond of, and who I want to protect from all the bad things in the world. Right, okay? “
“Okay.” I said, laughing.
“Now imagine that, over a couple years, this kid grows up into a decent guy, who doesn’t really get picked on anymore, and who has the worst temper ever, but I’m still fond for him. Now imagine that kid, who has grown up to be miles and miles more attractive than any other kid his age, staring at you like he wants your cock inside him that very minute while you’re innocently trying to read To Kill A Mockingbird to your class. That, though, that was fine. It was just…you know, weird, but it was fine. But then when that damn kid keeps fucking staring at you, and you can’t decide if you prefer the light in his eyes, or the way you imagine his lips would look around your cock, that’s when things get…not fine. So, the next day, you come in and decide to flirt a little bit. Harmless, as far as you’re concerned, until it’s not. Until that fucking kid pushes you over the limit and it takes all of your physical restraint to not fuck him right then and there. And then, even after you’ve warned him that you will do just that, he still keeps fucking pushing it. So, you do the rational thing – you touch yourself while thinking about him every night, so that you can bear to see him the next day without dry humping him the minute he walks into your classroom.” He said, the words flowing beautifully out of his lips, the way they do when he’s reading. I chewed my lip for a moment.
“Oh, right.” Is all I could manage.
“Understand?”
“I do.” I said. He took a deep breath.
“I’m glad you understand.” He said, surprisingly cool.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t, I just kept thinking about all the times I’d fantasized about him, and wondered if he was thinking about me then, too. It made a sliver of excitement rush through me.
“Call me next time.” I said abruptly. He laughed like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.
“Okay, Frank. I’ll just call one of my students next time I’m rubbing one out and let them know.”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No it’s not. No one will know.”
“They will.”
“They won’t. I have two phones. I’ll just use one as my ‘Gee’ phone.” I said, getting genuinely excited about my idea. He smirked.
“You called me Gee.” He said. I blushed.
“Um, yeah. I mean, you said it earlier. I assumed it must be like a nickname.”
“An abbreviation.”
“So your name begins with G?”
“Gerard.” He said smoothly. I smiled at the sound of it.
“Gerard.” I repeated back to him. I liked the way the letters seemed to fall off of my tongue.
“C’mon honey, you can practice saying my name at my place.” He teased, pulling me in close to him and curling his arms around my waist. He buried his face in my neck and planted soft kisses along my skin, and I couldn’t do anything but just hold him to me.
“Gerard.” I breathed.
“C’mon baby, say my name. I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say it.”
“Gerard, please.”
“That’s it honey, you’re so good for me.”
“Gerard. Gerard. Fuck me, Gerard.” I moaned softly into his ear, so nobody else but him could hear.
“Frank. Baby, please.” He replied, his voice hoarse.
“Take me home with you. Please Si-Gerard. Please, I want it. I want you.” I pleaded, feeling certain that this was what I wanted.
“Baby, no.” he whispered, his voice sad, as he continued to pepper my skin with soft kisses.
“Why? You told me you wanted me.” I gasped, stuck in the awkward limbo between aroused and disappointed.
“I want you. Baby, I want you. I can’t though. Not right now, just give me time” he said, still not pulling away.
“What about earlier? You said you wanted to –“
“And I do. And I promise I’ll be thinking about you – and that – all night. But baby, please. Don’t make me do this.” He groaned into my skin.
“Make you?” I said, slightly hurt. He looked me in the eyes, biting his lip.
“Yes. Because I want this so much it hurts, and if you keep pleading with me like that, I won’t be able to keep saying no.” he explained.
“Why are you saying no?”
“Because I’m still your teacher, Frank. This doesn’t change that, and I can’t risk that for you, or for me.” He whispered, stroking my cheek. My lip trembled.
“When?”
“The day you graduate, you’re mine.” He vowed. I groaned. That was still 8 months away. He smiled sadly.
“I’ve disappointed you.”
“A bit.” I admitted. He pulled me further into the corner we were standing in, so we were completely hidden from view.
“Two days from now, and I have a lesson with you, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I promise you, no matter how I act, or what I say or do, that during that whole lesson, I will be thinking about nothing but you, and how beautiful you are, and how I want you. Not just sexually but…everything. I want all of you.”
“You can’t be certain.”
“I am certain.” He said, his eyes without a trace of doubt in them.
“Okay.” I breathed, not sure what else I could say.
“We still have tonight though.” He said, his voice dropping back into its seductive purr, “ and I don’t intend to waste a second of it.” He pushed me to the wall, his hands resting on my hips. He rested his forehead against mine and wrinkled his face like he was in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I breathed.
“I really, really want to kiss you.” He moaned.
“I want to kiss you too.”
“It doesn’t seem like the right time, does it? For our first kiss?”
“I don’t care. If I can’t have all of you…you have to give me something.”
“We’re in too deep, aren’t we?”
“A bit.”
“Regrets?”
“None. You?”
“Too many.”
“Kiss me.”
“Hm?”
“Kiss me.”
“What was that?”
“Gerard, fucking kiss me.”
“Make me.” He purred, smirking at me. Nervously, and somewhat believing that I was dreaming, I let my hand slide to the back of his neck, my other hand on his chest.
“This is really weird.” I laughed.
“It’s crazy.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Let’s not, then.” He whispered, putting his hands on my jaw and pulling me forward so his lips were just touching mine. It was me, unsurprisingly, who wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him in closer, as he grabbed more of my face and deepened the kiss, his mouth moving against mine urgently, like he didn’t know when he’d get to do this again.
Of course, when I realized that he really didn’t know when he’d get to do this again, I pressed my lips even harder against his, pulling him closer so I was literally trapped against his hot, sweaty body and the cold, solid wall.I could feel myself running out of air, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away until I absolutely had to, gasping for air. He beamed at me, panting from arousal and lack of air.
“Think it’ll be worth the wait?” he asked.
“Yes.” I said with unwavering confidence. He smiled coyly and reached into his pocket, producing a lined piece of paper that I instantly recognized, feeling a wave of relief as I saw it clutched in his thin fingers.
“You left this with me. I figured I’d make some adjustments before giving it back.” He said, pressing it into my hand. Without hesitating, I unfolded it and grinned at the phone number that had been added to the bottom of the page.

Notes

I'm so dumb I'm sorry I hope you're all still enjoying this.