Chapter Two: When It's Over, Are We Free?
All written works displayed are (C) K.E. Wright.
Roy:
I was in the middle of teaching my third hour class when I became aware of the fact that I couldn't get Edward Elric out of my head. The discovered was more than just abrupt –it was rather strange. While I taught a class that I should be giving all of my attention almost on autopilot, my thoughts revolved around the blond boy who was always late to my class.
It had been more than an hour since I'd seen him, but I could remember what he wore, how he walked, and the mirco-expressions he worked so hard to hide. You know you've become a dirty old man when… I chastised myself. Yet I still couldn't think about anything else expect that boy.
I'd seen enough before he'd covered with his masks to know that he was in a lot of pain. I just had trouble figuring out if it was emotional of physical.
Even if I was having trouble keeping my mind of the subject at hand, I wasn't sure whether to be proud or frightened that none of my students caught on to it. I'd already taught this lesson twice, so I could remember all of the right words and all of the right motions. I'd always been a quick study.
When the bell rang and my class filed out of the classroom, I sat down behind my desk and set my head in my hands. Trying to get him out of my head just gave me a headache, yet I was still trying to do just that. I had a single moment of success before a sound made me jerk upright and look to the door.
"What's wrong, Roy?" Maes asked, propping himself up against the doorway.
My sigh felt like it weighed a ton. "My head hurts, is all," I told him, offering him a weak smile that I knew he'd attribute to the pain. It wasn't exactly a lie, per say, but for some reason, I felt guilty lying to him. Which was ridiculous, since I'd known him forever and had never had any trouble lying to him before.
He stepped into my room and stood beside me. His eyes shot to the empty hallway before he pressed a kiss to my temple. "Take something for it, then. You get crabby when your head hurts," he told me with a soft smile.
My returning smile was weak. "I intend to, Maes."
He smiled at me again and nodded to me once before heading back across the hall to his own classroom. I watched him leave, pondering the sudden appearance of my married lover's caring nature for a moment before digging through my desk. I knew there was a bottle of Advil in there somewhere: it was the only thing that killed my headaches.
Maes and I had known each other since we were ten, but we'd only been lovers since high school. I thought it would all end six years ago, when he started courting Gracia, but when he married Gracia five years ago, he said nothing about ending our relationship. We'd been together for a long time, but I always felt like his dirty little secret –probably because he was in a heterosexual relationship as well. Honestly, I had no illusions about our relationship: he would never leave his wife for me.
I was simply his best friend and his lover –the honey on the side, the dirty little secret that proved him bisexual that his wife had no clue about. I was used to it by now –it had been close to ten years, so if I wasn't used to it, I never would be. Every now and then, I wondered why I was still with a man who was ashamed to be with me. I decided I liked the cloak-and-dagger of being an affair. I also decided that I was more than a little scared of being alone.
I don't want to think about all of this now, I told myself, shoving my mess with Maes as far out of my mind as far as I could.
Yet as soon as I had done that, the image of a petite blond boy in leather pants and a skin-tight black t-shirt crept back into my mind. We were only three months into the new school year, and this was more than the third straight week that I was having this problem. Edward Elric fascinated me. No, more than fascinated… more like obsessed, which was certainly not healthy.
Am I infatuated with one of my students? I wondered. No! No way in hell am I trading in one forbidden relationship for another –or trying to carry on two of the damn things, heaven forbid!
My headache hadn't receded yet, but I pleasantly greeted my next class as they filed in. I was still trying to get him out of my head, but I was about ready to give up.
If only there was a pill to get rid of infatuation, I thought wryly.
I was in the middle of teaching my third hour class when I became aware of the fact that I couldn't get Edward Elric out of my head. The discovered was more than just abrupt –it was rather strange. While I taught a class that I should be giving all of my attention almost on autopilot, my thoughts revolved around the blond boy who was always late to my class.
It had been more than an hour since I'd seen him, but I could remember what he wore, how he walked, and the mirco-expressions he worked so hard to hide. You know you've become a dirty old man when… I chastised myself. Yet I still couldn't think about anything else expect that boy.
I'd seen enough before he'd covered with his masks to know that he was in a lot of pain. I just had trouble figuring out if it was emotional of physical.
Even if I was having trouble keeping my mind of the subject at hand, I wasn't sure whether to be proud or frightened that none of my students caught on to it. I'd already taught this lesson twice, so I could remember all of the right words and all of the right motions. I'd always been a quick study.
When the bell rang and my class filed out of the classroom, I sat down behind my desk and set my head in my hands. Trying to get him out of my head just gave me a headache, yet I was still trying to do just that. I had a single moment of success before a sound made me jerk upright and look to the door.
"What's wrong, Roy?" Maes asked, propping himself up against the doorway.
My sigh felt like it weighed a ton. "My head hurts, is all," I told him, offering him a weak smile that I knew he'd attribute to the pain. It wasn't exactly a lie, per say, but for some reason, I felt guilty lying to him. Which was ridiculous, since I'd known him forever and had never had any trouble lying to him before.
He stepped into my room and stood beside me. His eyes shot to the empty hallway before he pressed a kiss to my temple. "Take something for it, then. You get crabby when your head hurts," he told me with a soft smile.
My returning smile was weak. "I intend to, Maes."
He smiled at me again and nodded to me once before heading back across the hall to his own classroom. I watched him leave, pondering the sudden appearance of my married lover's caring nature for a moment before digging through my desk. I knew there was a bottle of Advil in there somewhere: it was the only thing that killed my headaches.
Maes and I had known each other since we were ten, but we'd only been lovers since high school. I thought it would all end six years ago, when he started courting Gracia, but when he married Gracia five years ago, he said nothing about ending our relationship. We'd been together for a long time, but I always felt like his dirty little secret –probably because he was in a heterosexual relationship as well. Honestly, I had no illusions about our relationship: he would never leave his wife for me.
I was simply his best friend and his lover –the honey on the side, the dirty little secret that proved him bisexual that his wife had no clue about. I was used to it by now –it had been close to ten years, so if I wasn't used to it, I never would be. Every now and then, I wondered why I was still with a man who was ashamed to be with me. I decided I liked the cloak-and-dagger of being an affair. I also decided that I was more than a little scared of being alone.
I don't want to think about all of this now, I told myself, shoving my mess with Maes as far out of my mind as far as I could.
Yet as soon as I had done that, the image of a petite blond boy in leather pants and a skin-tight black t-shirt crept back into my mind. We were only three months into the new school year, and this was more than the third straight week that I was having this problem. Edward Elric fascinated me. No, more than fascinated… more like obsessed, which was certainly not healthy.
Am I infatuated with one of my students? I wondered. No! No way in hell am I trading in one forbidden relationship for another –or trying to carry on two of the damn things, heaven forbid!
My headache hadn't receded yet, but I pleasantly greeted my next class as they filed in. I was still trying to get him out of my head, but I was about ready to give up.
If only there was a pill to get rid of infatuation, I thought wryly.
Ed:
As always, I was smiling as I left Phys Ed. Mr. Armstrong was an incredibly easy person to be around, and I enjoyed his sense of humor. Plus, endorphins make you happy.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. A," I told him before heading to my locker. I didn't lock it during the school day –locking it made it that much harder to get to class on time– so I quickly grabbed my history textbook and headed for class.
To say that my history class was never a particularly pleasant experience would be a gross understatement. Our instructor Mr. Kimblee was very blood-thirsty individual, as we all found out. When we actually did something in class, all we ever studied were wars –the bloodier the better. Every time we did, he got a frighteningly hungry gleam in his eyes that made me very wary of him. Needless to say, the man gave me the creeps and he was far from my favorite teacher.
I walked into his classroom and took my seat. My prosthetic leg clinked softly against the metal desk leg and I grimaced. The reverberations shot up my leg and into what remained of the flesh it replaced. I took it as an omen that this class would be awkward, at best. I quietly watched as the rest of my classmates filed into the room and found their seats. It amused me to note that several of them wore a grimace, as though they already felt that it wouldn't be a pleasant class.
Mr. Kimblee, a tall man with dark hair and strangely-slanted eyes, strode to the front of the room. "G'morning, class. I don't want to teach today, so we're watching one of my favorite movies."
Leaning to the left, I touched the arm of the boy who sat next to me. "Hey, Ryan, would you wake me up at the end of class?"
He gave me a smile and a nod before opening his book. I knew he would read instead of watching the film, because he was a little squeamish at times. Whatever the film, if Kimblee was showing it, it was bound to be gory.
Sighing softly, I folded my arms on my desk and pillowed my head against the crook of my left elbow. Since I didn't get enough sleep on the best of days, it didn't come as a surprise that I fell asleep quickly.
I dreamt of softly calloused hands, of jet-black hair, of slightly slanted obsidian eyes, of a velvet voice with a soft drawl.
Hot water cascaded down over our naked bodies. The tiles were pleasantly cool against my back as he pressed me against the wall, his hot mouth both giving and greedy over mine. He stoked the fire of my desire to new heights with the combination of his clever tongue, his questing fingertips, and the sheer contact between our bodies.
Yet all of the sensations came to a sudden halt. I watched him move away from me, a question in my lust-clouded eyes. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of me. I was pretty sure I'd lost the ability to breathe when he drew my cock into his hot mouth, yet somehow a choked cry of pleasure managed to wrench itself free from my throat.
My fingers laced into the silk of his hair, trying to anchor one of us. I honestly wasn't sure if it was him or me. Hell, I wasn't sure I could give my own name if asked!
I moaned, the sound low and loud. "I-I'm so c-close…!" I warned him. I was surprised that the statement was even close to comprehensible.
His reply was to increase the suction and the sensation. It was as though he knew instinctively how to play my body to receive the maximum response. It wasn't long until I came, crying out "S-sensei" as I met the euphoria and oblivion.
Strangely, out of the oblivion reached a single cool hand that rested on my left arm until I lifted my head.
Oh. Ryan. My brain processed slowly.
I glanced at the clock: two minutes until we could escape our creepy teacher. A perfectly timed wake-up call. I gave him a thumbs up, and the shy boy responded with a smile.
What a vivid dream, I thought, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I had yet to decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but I'd been having dreams like that about my English teacher since the start of the school year. Either way, having such dreams at school was definitely new and definitely not a good thing.
When will this infatuation end? I wondered. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to leave, really. Infatuations never lasted unless they were more than that, and I had never had an infatuation last so long. Then again, I usually didn't get infatuated with men who probably couldn't touch me without breaking their code of ethics.
I glanced down to make sure it hadn't been a literal wet dream. It hadn't, but the raging hard-on was going to make it incredibly uncomfortable to walk to my next class in a few minutes. As if on cue, the bell rang. I tried not to sigh as stood up to trek to my next class. It took a lot of work to not grimace as I put one foot in front of the other.
Luckily for me, the restraint of my tight leather pants made my throbbing arousal less noticeable. Unluckily, the taunt stretched leather made the whole situation quite painful.
Life is pain. Anyone who says any different is selling something, I thought wryly, thinking the line from one of Winry's favorite films incredibly appropriate.
As always, I was smiling as I left Phys Ed. Mr. Armstrong was an incredibly easy person to be around, and I enjoyed his sense of humor. Plus, endorphins make you happy.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. A," I told him before heading to my locker. I didn't lock it during the school day –locking it made it that much harder to get to class on time– so I quickly grabbed my history textbook and headed for class.
To say that my history class was never a particularly pleasant experience would be a gross understatement. Our instructor Mr. Kimblee was very blood-thirsty individual, as we all found out. When we actually did something in class, all we ever studied were wars –the bloodier the better. Every time we did, he got a frighteningly hungry gleam in his eyes that made me very wary of him. Needless to say, the man gave me the creeps and he was far from my favorite teacher.
I walked into his classroom and took my seat. My prosthetic leg clinked softly against the metal desk leg and I grimaced. The reverberations shot up my leg and into what remained of the flesh it replaced. I took it as an omen that this class would be awkward, at best. I quietly watched as the rest of my classmates filed into the room and found their seats. It amused me to note that several of them wore a grimace, as though they already felt that it wouldn't be a pleasant class.
Mr. Kimblee, a tall man with dark hair and strangely-slanted eyes, strode to the front of the room. "G'morning, class. I don't want to teach today, so we're watching one of my favorite movies."
Leaning to the left, I touched the arm of the boy who sat next to me. "Hey, Ryan, would you wake me up at the end of class?"
He gave me a smile and a nod before opening his book. I knew he would read instead of watching the film, because he was a little squeamish at times. Whatever the film, if Kimblee was showing it, it was bound to be gory.
Sighing softly, I folded my arms on my desk and pillowed my head against the crook of my left elbow. Since I didn't get enough sleep on the best of days, it didn't come as a surprise that I fell asleep quickly.
I dreamt of softly calloused hands, of jet-black hair, of slightly slanted obsidian eyes, of a velvet voice with a soft drawl.
Hot water cascaded down over our naked bodies. The tiles were pleasantly cool against my back as he pressed me against the wall, his hot mouth both giving and greedy over mine. He stoked the fire of my desire to new heights with the combination of his clever tongue, his questing fingertips, and the sheer contact between our bodies.
Yet all of the sensations came to a sudden halt. I watched him move away from me, a question in my lust-clouded eyes. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of me. I was pretty sure I'd lost the ability to breathe when he drew my cock into his hot mouth, yet somehow a choked cry of pleasure managed to wrench itself free from my throat.
My fingers laced into the silk of his hair, trying to anchor one of us. I honestly wasn't sure if it was him or me. Hell, I wasn't sure I could give my own name if asked!
I moaned, the sound low and loud. "I-I'm so c-close…!" I warned him. I was surprised that the statement was even close to comprehensible.
His reply was to increase the suction and the sensation. It was as though he knew instinctively how to play my body to receive the maximum response. It wasn't long until I came, crying out "S-sensei" as I met the euphoria and oblivion.
Strangely, out of the oblivion reached a single cool hand that rested on my left arm until I lifted my head.
Oh. Ryan. My brain processed slowly.
I glanced at the clock: two minutes until we could escape our creepy teacher. A perfectly timed wake-up call. I gave him a thumbs up, and the shy boy responded with a smile.
What a vivid dream, I thought, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I had yet to decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but I'd been having dreams like that about my English teacher since the start of the school year. Either way, having such dreams at school was definitely new and definitely not a good thing.
When will this infatuation end? I wondered. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to leave, really. Infatuations never lasted unless they were more than that, and I had never had an infatuation last so long. Then again, I usually didn't get infatuated with men who probably couldn't touch me without breaking their code of ethics.
I glanced down to make sure it hadn't been a literal wet dream. It hadn't, but the raging hard-on was going to make it incredibly uncomfortable to walk to my next class in a few minutes. As if on cue, the bell rang. I tried not to sigh as stood up to trek to my next class. It took a lot of work to not grimace as I put one foot in front of the other.
Luckily for me, the restraint of my tight leather pants made my throbbing arousal less noticeable. Unluckily, the taunt stretched leather made the whole situation quite painful.
Life is pain. Anyone who says any different is selling something, I thought wryly, thinking the line from one of Winry's favorite films incredibly appropriate.
Roy:
Maes sauntered into my now empty classroom a few minutes after the tardy bell. He closed the door behind him, which told me exactly what was on his mind. The perk of sharing a prep-period with your boyfriend is rather glaringly obvious. However, after three hours of having that boy on the brain, I was in no mood for sex –well, not sex with Maes. So, in a rare effort to be subtle, I completely ignored his entrance and kept grading last Friday's homework and cursing myself for falling so far behind on my grading.
Unaccustomed to that response, he walked quietly and stood behind me. When he placed his hands on my shoulders, I fought the urge to shrug them off. Instead, I just continued to ignore him and work. Well, I did until he pressed a kiss to my neck and proceeded to nibble on the flesh there.
How devious, Maes. Going straight for the erogenous zone isn't usually your speed, I chastised in my mind, but remained silent.
I jerked away from the contact. "Not today, Maes. I'm not in the mood. Plus, I'm behind on my grading."
"Roy," he coaxed, whispering in my ear before nipping at my earlobe. "It's been two days. I want you."
"No." If I have to tell him that's my final answer, I might have to slap him.
He made another attempt to persuade me, this time with light kisses under my ear and his hands sliding sensuously across my chest.
"Maes, stop it," I told him flatly.
I felt him still against me. Shock radiated off of him like a strong perfume. I was a little shocked, too. Usually, I would have been ready to go after a bit of his persuasion –after all, the caresses he used as enticements were always the ones he knew I was weak against. Yet today, I just… couldn't. Not with that boy still lingering in the back of my mind.
"Maybe we should call it quits, Maes." I hadn't meant to say it, but I honestly couldn't deny that it needed to be said. Maes and I didn't love each other, not like lovers should. We were all about sex, and I felt as though we cheapened our friendship by maintaining such a shallow connection. Besides, Maes had a beautiful wife and an adorable daughter that he adored. What we had together in no way compared to that.
When he looked at me, his eyes betrayed his deep sadness. "Maybe we should. I don't feel like I'm enough for you anymore."
I stared at him. How could he think that? "No, it's not that. I love you, Maes; I always have. I just don't love you like that. I can't give you what you need. And what about Gracia and Elysia? Don't they deserve so much more from us that this?" I know my expression softened as I reached out and touched his face. "Maes, we can still be friends, but I don't think we should have ever tired to be more than that."
He turned away quickly, but I saw the flash of tears before he did. "See! This is why that started at all! You're shutting me out all over again, Roy!"
I stood and wrapped my arms around him. laying my head against his sturdy shoulder, I released a sad sigh. "I'm not shutting you out. You're still my best friend. You will always be my best friend."
I felt it when he began to sob, but he persisted in crying silently. Still, I knew that this was the best decision –especially for him.
Maes sauntered into my now empty classroom a few minutes after the tardy bell. He closed the door behind him, which told me exactly what was on his mind. The perk of sharing a prep-period with your boyfriend is rather glaringly obvious. However, after three hours of having that boy on the brain, I was in no mood for sex –well, not sex with Maes. So, in a rare effort to be subtle, I completely ignored his entrance and kept grading last Friday's homework and cursing myself for falling so far behind on my grading.
Unaccustomed to that response, he walked quietly and stood behind me. When he placed his hands on my shoulders, I fought the urge to shrug them off. Instead, I just continued to ignore him and work. Well, I did until he pressed a kiss to my neck and proceeded to nibble on the flesh there.
How devious, Maes. Going straight for the erogenous zone isn't usually your speed, I chastised in my mind, but remained silent.
I jerked away from the contact. "Not today, Maes. I'm not in the mood. Plus, I'm behind on my grading."
"Roy," he coaxed, whispering in my ear before nipping at my earlobe. "It's been two days. I want you."
"No." If I have to tell him that's my final answer, I might have to slap him.
He made another attempt to persuade me, this time with light kisses under my ear and his hands sliding sensuously across my chest.
"Maes, stop it," I told him flatly.
I felt him still against me. Shock radiated off of him like a strong perfume. I was a little shocked, too. Usually, I would have been ready to go after a bit of his persuasion –after all, the caresses he used as enticements were always the ones he knew I was weak against. Yet today, I just… couldn't. Not with that boy still lingering in the back of my mind.
"Maybe we should call it quits, Maes." I hadn't meant to say it, but I honestly couldn't deny that it needed to be said. Maes and I didn't love each other, not like lovers should. We were all about sex, and I felt as though we cheapened our friendship by maintaining such a shallow connection. Besides, Maes had a beautiful wife and an adorable daughter that he adored. What we had together in no way compared to that.
When he looked at me, his eyes betrayed his deep sadness. "Maybe we should. I don't feel like I'm enough for you anymore."
I stared at him. How could he think that? "No, it's not that. I love you, Maes; I always have. I just don't love you like that. I can't give you what you need. And what about Gracia and Elysia? Don't they deserve so much more from us that this?" I know my expression softened as I reached out and touched his face. "Maes, we can still be friends, but I don't think we should have ever tired to be more than that."
He turned away quickly, but I saw the flash of tears before he did. "See! This is why that started at all! You're shutting me out all over again, Roy!"
I stood and wrapped my arms around him. laying my head against his sturdy shoulder, I released a sad sigh. "I'm not shutting you out. You're still my best friend. You will always be my best friend."
I felt it when he began to sob, but he persisted in crying silently. Still, I knew that this was the best decision –especially for him.
Ed:
"-So if the pull of gravity against the bullet is -32, what would our first term be?" asked our leggy blond Calculus teacher as she crossed the room, her gun pointed in the air.
I raised my hand.
"Yes, Edward?"
"-16t2, ma'am," I replied respectfully, being one of the only guys in the class who didn't turn into a puddle of goo on the desk when she pulled out the gun she held now and began our story problem. And it wasn't like they couldn't have deduced it was coming. Ms. Hawkeye loved guns, and she liked to make our story problems more real by using props. The real question was how she got the gun into the school.
"Very good, Ed." She smiled at me, the curving of her lips quite attractive –well, if one liked women.
We finished our example quickly, even though it was only a pretty brunette named Johanna and I giving answers. I scribbled the assignment in my planner and ignored the rest of the room in favor of a Jim Butcher novel I'd read twice before. What could I say? I loved Harry's brother. I couldn't concentrate on the assignment in the classroom, anyway, and Ms. Hawkeye was well aware of that fact.
The hands that settled onto my shoulders were small yet strong. Looking up, I discovered that it was Ms. Hawkeye, her eyes smiling down at me. "Good book?" she asked.
I nodded and smiled back. "Good enough to read three times and I still laugh at every single joke like I don't know it's coming."
Her lips quirked into a smile at that. "Maybe I'll try the series, then." She walked away only when she was flagged down by another student who needed help.
She'd grown used to my idiosyncrasies, and she didn't make a big deal out of them as long as I turned in my homework every day. A classroom setting was not good for my concentration. The volume level ranged from the dull roar of students needing help to absolute silence on test days. I needed nature, rhythm, and a less stuffy environment to work well, so that was why I waited. Besides, I enjoyed the opportunity to spend more time with Al.
The bell rang, and the rest of the students rushed to the lunch room. I took my time gathering my things, wished Ms. Hawkeye a pleasant day, and started down the hall toward my locker. Once there, I dumped my Calculus book and picked up my Chemistry book before starting for the lunch room.
I'd only taken three steps when my body was slammed against the wall of lockers. Bullying was next to non-existent in this school, but it could happen.
"Wha-?" I started to ask, but my lips were hurriedly covered by someone else's, leading into a demanding kiss. There was one person who kissed me that way and got away with it, but he wouldn't be getting away with it any longer. Planting my flesh hand in the middle of his chest, I gave him a good shove.
"Russell, stop it," I hissed out, still pushing against him because he'd only moved about an inch and it wasn't anywhere near far enough away from me with the mood he was stirring up.
"No one's coming," he coaxed, purring out the words like they would change my mind. "C'mon, Ed."
I kept pushing him back. "No. You know how I feel about PDA, Russ."
"No one's coming," he tried.
"No," I replied, finality in my tone. I was not an exhibitionist, and I refused to be made one by his choices. "Damn it all, Russ, if you can't respect it when I say 'no', how in the hell am I supposed to trust you? We've been together for three months now: you should be well aware of the boundaries and just how far they go. Screw it. I'm done with this. It's over."
His eyes widened in shock and he stepped back as thought I had suddenly slapped him.
I honestly didn't care. It was over and it felt as though a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted off of my shoulders. I walked away without a backward glance.
"-So if the pull of gravity against the bullet is -32, what would our first term be?" asked our leggy blond Calculus teacher as she crossed the room, her gun pointed in the air.
I raised my hand.
"Yes, Edward?"
"-16t2, ma'am," I replied respectfully, being one of the only guys in the class who didn't turn into a puddle of goo on the desk when she pulled out the gun she held now and began our story problem. And it wasn't like they couldn't have deduced it was coming. Ms. Hawkeye loved guns, and she liked to make our story problems more real by using props. The real question was how she got the gun into the school.
"Very good, Ed." She smiled at me, the curving of her lips quite attractive –well, if one liked women.
We finished our example quickly, even though it was only a pretty brunette named Johanna and I giving answers. I scribbled the assignment in my planner and ignored the rest of the room in favor of a Jim Butcher novel I'd read twice before. What could I say? I loved Harry's brother. I couldn't concentrate on the assignment in the classroom, anyway, and Ms. Hawkeye was well aware of that fact.
The hands that settled onto my shoulders were small yet strong. Looking up, I discovered that it was Ms. Hawkeye, her eyes smiling down at me. "Good book?" she asked.
I nodded and smiled back. "Good enough to read three times and I still laugh at every single joke like I don't know it's coming."
Her lips quirked into a smile at that. "Maybe I'll try the series, then." She walked away only when she was flagged down by another student who needed help.
She'd grown used to my idiosyncrasies, and she didn't make a big deal out of them as long as I turned in my homework every day. A classroom setting was not good for my concentration. The volume level ranged from the dull roar of students needing help to absolute silence on test days. I needed nature, rhythm, and a less stuffy environment to work well, so that was why I waited. Besides, I enjoyed the opportunity to spend more time with Al.
The bell rang, and the rest of the students rushed to the lunch room. I took my time gathering my things, wished Ms. Hawkeye a pleasant day, and started down the hall toward my locker. Once there, I dumped my Calculus book and picked up my Chemistry book before starting for the lunch room.
I'd only taken three steps when my body was slammed against the wall of lockers. Bullying was next to non-existent in this school, but it could happen.
"Wha-?" I started to ask, but my lips were hurriedly covered by someone else's, leading into a demanding kiss. There was one person who kissed me that way and got away with it, but he wouldn't be getting away with it any longer. Planting my flesh hand in the middle of his chest, I gave him a good shove.
"Russell, stop it," I hissed out, still pushing against him because he'd only moved about an inch and it wasn't anywhere near far enough away from me with the mood he was stirring up.
"No one's coming," he coaxed, purring out the words like they would change my mind. "C'mon, Ed."
I kept pushing him back. "No. You know how I feel about PDA, Russ."
"No one's coming," he tried.
"No," I replied, finality in my tone. I was not an exhibitionist, and I refused to be made one by his choices. "Damn it all, Russ, if you can't respect it when I say 'no', how in the hell am I supposed to trust you? We've been together for three months now: you should be well aware of the boundaries and just how far they go. Screw it. I'm done with this. It's over."
His eyes widened in shock and he stepped back as thought I had suddenly slapped him.
I honestly didn't care. It was over and it felt as though a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted off of my shoulders. I walked away without a backward glance.
Roy:
Someone had once told me that sighing sent all of your happiness away. With that amount of sighing that I had been doing today, I sort of felt that they might be right.
Maes and I were over. It was official. I knew that I had let it go on longer than it should have. Maes had been using physical closeness to try to overcome emotional distance. I honestly couldn't see how I hadn't noticed it before. He had approached me only when I'd begun to withdraw from our friendship in high school. It was tragically ironic, but his efforts had certainly shot us both in the foot. Believing the relationship about nothing more than sex, I had drawn even further away from my best friend. As for Maes, he spent five years of marriage teetering on the verge of ruining his own happiness because of our relationship.
I was hoping that we could overcome the whole mess. I believed the first hurtle would be mine, since I'd spent nine years thinking of him as my lover and not as my best friend. I would have to get back in the habit of confiding in him.
I already looked forward to spending time with his family. Gracia was like a sister and a friend, and little Elysia was my goddaughter. I couldn't wait to see them without that familiar pang a guilt in the pit of my stomach.
The whole situation had tired both of us out more than sex ever had. Crossing my arms on my desk, I laid my head down and closed my eyes. A short nap would certainly help me get through the rest of the day.
It surprised me how easily I found sleep.
My fingers carded through the golden satin of his hair. Gently, I tugged his lips to mine. Our kiss was hungry and out of control, just like I felt. His hands slid down from my neck to slowly caress the planes of my chest, like he instinctively knew just how weak I was against that action. My hands wouldn't stay still either, eager as they were to learn the pleasures of his body. One of my hands stroked at his hips for a few moments before sliding a lower to caress his hardening cock. The sweetest moan I ever heard escaped past his lush lips.
It brought a smile to my own lips, along with the need to claim him and his body for myself. I lifted the heavy satin of his hair aside and latched onto his neck. When I drew back, I was proud to see the purpling love bite at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. His hands seemed eager for their own exploration, as well. Unlike me, however, he went straight for the prize, caressing my cock through my pants until I was certain that my knees no longer had the ability to hold me up. His lips twisted into a wicked smile as he slowly stroked me until restraint became a thing of the past and I released my own wanton moan.
He brought his smirking lips to whisper in my ear. "Sensei, I want you." Then he planted a tender kiss below my ear.
"I want you, too, Ed," I returned, pretty sure that my breathing would never return back to normal if he kept looking at me like that and touching me like that. The next time I brought my lips to his, I was certain my kiss echoes my desperation, as did the way I moved against him. the gasping sound of pleasure he could no longer contain made me feel that he was at least as desperate as I was.
The bell rang, startling me awake and intruding on my dream. I sat straight up, unable to believe that I could have slept through a time when I had students coming in. It took me a muzzy moment to register that it was the tardy bell that always rang five minutes after the students were dismissed for lunch.
Sighing, I set my head in my hands. Apparently, I was stuck on the way he called me 'sensei' this morning.
The inappropriate thoughts were bad enough. Must I have dreams about him as well?
I couldn't deny how much the dream had aroused me –it was quite hard and obvious in my dress slacks.
I sighed. There was really only one thing I could do about the situation. So I rose to my feet and, thanking god that the hallway was completely empty, hurried to the bathroom to take care of it before I had to deal with my students.
Well this is a brand new low, I thought wryly.
Someone had once told me that sighing sent all of your happiness away. With that amount of sighing that I had been doing today, I sort of felt that they might be right.
Maes and I were over. It was official. I knew that I had let it go on longer than it should have. Maes had been using physical closeness to try to overcome emotional distance. I honestly couldn't see how I hadn't noticed it before. He had approached me only when I'd begun to withdraw from our friendship in high school. It was tragically ironic, but his efforts had certainly shot us both in the foot. Believing the relationship about nothing more than sex, I had drawn even further away from my best friend. As for Maes, he spent five years of marriage teetering on the verge of ruining his own happiness because of our relationship.
I was hoping that we could overcome the whole mess. I believed the first hurtle would be mine, since I'd spent nine years thinking of him as my lover and not as my best friend. I would have to get back in the habit of confiding in him.
I already looked forward to spending time with his family. Gracia was like a sister and a friend, and little Elysia was my goddaughter. I couldn't wait to see them without that familiar pang a guilt in the pit of my stomach.
The whole situation had tired both of us out more than sex ever had. Crossing my arms on my desk, I laid my head down and closed my eyes. A short nap would certainly help me get through the rest of the day.
It surprised me how easily I found sleep.
My fingers carded through the golden satin of his hair. Gently, I tugged his lips to mine. Our kiss was hungry and out of control, just like I felt. His hands slid down from my neck to slowly caress the planes of my chest, like he instinctively knew just how weak I was against that action. My hands wouldn't stay still either, eager as they were to learn the pleasures of his body. One of my hands stroked at his hips for a few moments before sliding a lower to caress his hardening cock. The sweetest moan I ever heard escaped past his lush lips.
It brought a smile to my own lips, along with the need to claim him and his body for myself. I lifted the heavy satin of his hair aside and latched onto his neck. When I drew back, I was proud to see the purpling love bite at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. His hands seemed eager for their own exploration, as well. Unlike me, however, he went straight for the prize, caressing my cock through my pants until I was certain that my knees no longer had the ability to hold me up. His lips twisted into a wicked smile as he slowly stroked me until restraint became a thing of the past and I released my own wanton moan.
He brought his smirking lips to whisper in my ear. "Sensei, I want you." Then he planted a tender kiss below my ear.
"I want you, too, Ed," I returned, pretty sure that my breathing would never return back to normal if he kept looking at me like that and touching me like that. The next time I brought my lips to his, I was certain my kiss echoes my desperation, as did the way I moved against him. the gasping sound of pleasure he could no longer contain made me feel that he was at least as desperate as I was.
The bell rang, startling me awake and intruding on my dream. I sat straight up, unable to believe that I could have slept through a time when I had students coming in. It took me a muzzy moment to register that it was the tardy bell that always rang five minutes after the students were dismissed for lunch.
Sighing, I set my head in my hands. Apparently, I was stuck on the way he called me 'sensei' this morning.
The inappropriate thoughts were bad enough. Must I have dreams about him as well?
I couldn't deny how much the dream had aroused me –it was quite hard and obvious in my dress slacks.
I sighed. There was really only one thing I could do about the situation. So I rose to my feet and, thanking god that the hallway was completely empty, hurried to the bathroom to take care of it before I had to deal with my students.
Well this is a brand new low, I thought wryly.