I Think I Like It

Two days. I had to wait two days to see him, to see if he kept his word. His note was hidden in my drawer, and the number underneath. He said I could call him any time between 6 and 10 in the evening, any night, and that he’d always answer if he could. Now it was 7:38, and I wiggled my thumbs over my phone screen, willing myself for the 30th time to just type in the damn number, but I couldn’t. Not him. Not now. I tossed my phone on my bed and groaned, burying my face in the pillow. I missed him. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since I’d last seen him, and I missed him like fucking hell. I replayed the moments over and over in my head – specifically, when he kissed me. Or when I kissed him. I couldn’t remember who started it; I just knew that I’d done it. I finally fucking kissed him. Sure, it was less than I wanted (needed, at this point), but it made me feel warmth that nothing else had ever made me feel. Don’t misunderstand me, I still wasn’t head over heels for the guy, but I did know what he meant when he said he had a certain fondness for me.
My phone buzzed and I grabbed it, heart racing, and then frowned. It wasn’t him, just some telemarketer. I looked up at my bedroom ceiling, wondering how I was going to last this whole weekend without him.
My friends were kinda mad at me because I didn’t try to find them at the party, and even more mad because they heard I was making out with someone, and I wouldn’t tell them who. I can’t say I blamed them, but at the same time, I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth about Gerard and I. Gerard and I. I said his name again softly, under my breath, and grinned. It was beautiful and unusual, and I couldn’t imagine him having any other name.
Somewhere, at the back of my mind, him telling me that he wasn’t my lover or my boyfriend nagged at me, but I dismissed it – it’s not like he really meant much of what he said at those times. Did he?
I grinned – I think I had my excuse to call him.

Even with my excuse, it still took me 15 minutes and 6 tries to actually call him and stay on the phone. He answered on the third ring, and used his ‘teacher voice’.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Way? It’s –“
“You’re the only student who has my number, so yeah, I know who this is.” He said, but he sounded amused. I smiled.
“I have a question.”
“I’m guessing it’s not a homework question.” He sighed.
“We had homework?”
“Jesus Christ.” He laughed.
“Anyway. I was wondering about a couple things.”
“Ask away.”
“At the dance, you said that you weren’t my-“
“I remember.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Well, yes.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not though.”
“I just thought…”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine.”
“Frank.”
“It’s really fine.”
“Don’t-“
“The other thing.”
“Okay, fine. What’s the other thing?”
“Does your threat still stand?”
There was silence for some time on the other end, and I grinned, forgetting, for the moment, the bitter rejection I’d just received.
“Remind me of the threat.” He said, his voice husky. Oh God.
“You said that if I misbehaved again-“
“That wasn’t my wording.”
“You said if I wasn’t careful, then you’d drag me up to your desk and fuck me in front of the whole class.”
“Oh, I think I remember that one.”
“Is it still standing?”
“What makes you think that it’s not?”
“So it is?”
“Why don’t you try to push it on Monday and I’ll let you know.”
“Would you do it, though?”
“Do you think I would?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Will you?”
“I have nothing to lose.”
“Except everything.”
“It’d be worth it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine. Don’t. Remember what I said about playing with fire, Frankie.”
“I miss the fuck out of you.”
“I miss you too.”
“I wish I could see you.”
“You can, technically.”
“What?”
“I live alone. So you could.”
“But?”
“But I’d be too tempted.”
“To do what?”
“To fuck that tight ass of yours, sweetheart.”
“Gerard.”
“I need to get off.”
“The phone?”
“Nope.”
“Do it then.”
“Not with you listening, you have homework to do.”
“Asshole.”
“Bye, Frankie.”
“Fuck off. Bye Gee.”
The phonecall had been…educational, for lack of a better term. I’d found out that Gerard was not, in fact, my boyfriend. I also found out that he would definitely probably fuck me in front of my classmates if I wasn’t good. I found out that he lived alone. Oh, and I found out I had homework to do for him. I wondered vaguely in the back of my mind if I could talk him out of it. Hands still shaking, I called him again. He answered right away.
“Baby.”
“If you let me off from doing the homework, I’ll give you a blowjob.”
“No. Homework.”
“I’ll wear really tight jeans to school.”
“Do that, yes. But no, also do your homework.”
“I’ll let you fondle me in any way you want for a whole week.”
“You’ll do it any way.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I’m trying.”
“Come fuck me.”
“I’m trying. You won’t graduate if you don’t pass English.”
“You better make sure I get the grades then.”
“Exactly. Do your homework.”
I hung up on him, beaming like an idiot and actually reaching for my English book. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it – if I didn’t pass English, I’d have to graduate later than everyone else, and that meant more time that I couldn’t be with Mr. Way. I chewed my lip as I looked down at the task I’d written down in a hurry; something indecipherable about talking about the strength of relationships between characters. I smiled a little bit at the irony, and then, for the first time all year, I actually got to work.

He called me just as I was finishing my essay.
“How’s the homework?”
“Almost done.”
“Good.”
“Is that why you called?”
“No, but the real reason is embarrassing.”
“Now you have to tell me.”
“Don’t laugh.”
“I can’t promise.”
“Asshole.”
“Tell me.”
“My bed is cold.”
“That’s not embarrassing.”
“No. The embarrassing part is that I’m calling you so I can pretend that I’m not alone.”
“That’s cute.” I said with a smile. He was silent for a little while.
“I’m not cute, piss off.” He said, and then hung up. I turned my phone off, after that, because Mr. Way seemed like the kind of person that would call me at 2am to tell me about some irrelevant facts, and as much as I loved hearing his voice, I couldn’t deal with anyone breaking my sleep, even him.
Well. Maybe him.

Somehow, nobody in the room noticed the way I was rubbing myself under the table, or the way his eyes looked at me hungrily, daring me to keep going.
“If you keep this up, I’ll have to punish you, Frank.” He said sternly, but I couldn’t stop, the need building up inside me. He rose from his desk and walked towards me smoothly, his face expressionless as he grabbed me by the arm and hoisted me to my feet.
“I’m a man of my word.” He sneered as he dragged me to his desk, pushing me down so I was flat against the polished wood. The rest of the class continued their work, other than Chris and Joe, who stared at me, judging me. I felt dirty and immoral, my heart racing in my chest.
“Don’t look.” I pleaded with them, but their eyes never left me. I was naked suddenly, with Gerard’s thick cock pressing against me.
“N-no. Don’t. It’s gonna hurt.” I whimpered. He kissed my shoulders, stroking my hair gently.
“I won’t hurt you.” He vowed as he pushed into me, and to my surprise, it didn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. I moaned as he fucked into me, his hands holding my waist tightly.
“Mine.” He growled, biting my shoulder.

The dream left me feeling confused and dizzy and very, very hard. I found the latter slightly surprising, because the dream had been somewhat uncomfortable and troubling, but I supposed that any situation in which Mr. Way was fucking me (or standing within a mile radius of me) would make me hard. I turned my phone on and noticed that it was 1am, and way too fucking early to call him. Even though my cock was throbbing where it lay against my stomach, and my throat was dry from need, I couldn’t possibly call him. It would be insane.
I successfully convinced myself to not call him, even though I knew I’d have preferred to hear his voice right now. Instead, I pondered the other part of my dream- the one involving my friends. I knew what it meant, of course. I felt guilty for standing up my buddies and for lying to them. As much as I couldn’t tell them the truth, I could at least apologize. I resolved that I’d spend the day with them tomorrow, and tell them as much as I possibly could (that is, everything that didn’t involve me getting fucked by our English teacher). I grabbed my phone (my new phone, that is), and send a group text to both of them, saying that I was sorry, and that I wanted to hang tomorrow. Unsurprisingly, Joe, who was somewhat of an insomniac, replied almost straight away, saying that he wasn’t mad at me, but that he did want to hear all the gory details.
Chris, probably having been woken up from our texts, said that he wasn’t mad either, but that he really didn’t want to hear any details if they were gory. I assured them that there was plenty of gore to be heard, and fell asleep; feeling reassured that I hadn’t accidentally fucked things up with two of the most important people in my life.

Notes

Sorry it's so short, and for the weird layout, I was slightly (very) intoxicated. <333