Crush

Andrew Robinson is your average jock, handsome, athletic, charming and uber-popular. You'd think a kid like that would be happy, but he isn't. He longs for something to spice up a boring, monotonous life in small town Brighton.

Chayton Whitehorse is an escapee of a poverty stricken and backward minded reservation called Running Rivers. He came to Brighton for a new beginning; a taste of freedom and maybe some acceptance away from his bigoted small town and overbearing grandfather.

Chayton never counted on running into more trouble almost as soon as he steps foot in Brighton, but he quickly attracts the attention of the town's young hero. It's unwanted attention since Andrew is just under eighteen and Chayton's student to boot.

When Chay tries to gently disentangle himself from the grip of Brighton High's coolest kid, he finds things aren't that simple.

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I've also created a discussion thread on the AFF forum to answer questions posed in the reviews.I've answered a few questions already to start things off. And thanks so much for those who let me know what you think of the story. Feel free to ask your questions or give opinions on there or here at the reviews but please know that I will only respond on the forum.

http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/18884-crush-by-sage-whistler/

WARNING: This story contains Non-con in the beginning as well as themes of submission and domination. The main character is also 17 years old and also the aggressor.

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Andrew Robinson paused from running laps to yank off his helmet and use the white hand-towel tucked into his waistband to get the sweat out of his eyes. His best friend and fellow defensive linebacker jogged over to him and took a break to guzzle from a squirt bottle full of Gatorade.



“Shit, it’s hot out here,” Gabriel Rafferty stated unnecessarily. “What drill do you think Coach will put us through next?”



Andrew squinted across the field at the row of nervous freshmen waiting anxiously for their turn to step up and tackle the padded dummy. Andrew rolled his shoulders. Shit, he’d taken a hit from Mitch that felt like he’d been slammed by a brick. His shoulder was throbbing, but Coach Barnes wouldn’t want to hear any whining. A complaint would probably only serve to earn them an extra hour running laps.



Andrew took out his mouth guard and spat in the grass. “Probably M drills,” he answered finally, “these shitheads certainly need it.”



Gabriel laughed. “Yeah, some of those boys could trip over a blade of grass. Their footwork is garbage.” Then with a groan, Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck and added, “Is it just me though or is Coach Barnes on his period or something? He’s been driving us like slaves out here.”



Shrugging, only half listening to his friend’s complaints, Andrew shielded his eyes with one hand and blinked over at the bleachers. A lone figure was walking toward the sprinkling of students already seated on the metal stand. The guy was slim, with dark black hair in a long braid. Andrew watched the braid flap against the man’s gray jacket as he jogged up the bleacher stairs and took a seat.



Andrew tried to make out the man’s facial features. All he could tell from where he stood out in the field was that the man was brown-skinned, with broad shoulders, trim of waist, and had very long legs. He licked his bottom lip, instantly intrigued.



“Who’s that?” Gabriel asked. “You know him?”



“No.” He had to be a teacher though. No way a student would be caught dressed like that on any day except graduation or prom. Maybe he was a substitute. Andrew knew there’d been a handful of subs standing in for Mr. Parson who had moved out of the state late in the last semester.



He hoped that this man was a permanent fixture and not just here for a day. He’d like to get to know who he was. He hoped like hell he was interesting. Brighton was boring as fuck. Drew thought he’d outgrown what the small town had to offer and couldn’t wait to hit college in SoCal, but this new man instantly blipped on his radar. The hair alone was worth his interest. Long hair wasn’t Drew’s thing on himself, but it just about did it for him on the right person.



Yelling from Coach forced Drew’s attention back on practice. “Robinson! Rafferty! Haul your asses over here and get these cones ready for M drill.”



“Yessir!” Gabriel barked like a good little soldier. He popped his mouth guard back in and started running

Drew rolled his eyes, bit down on his mouth guard, put on his helmet and jogged after his best friend. Halfway across the field he took a glance over his right shoulder at the new arrival and grinned.



***

Chayton Whitehorse chose to sit seven rows up and smack in the middle of the bleachers, away from the sprinkling of students who were also watching the game. He didn’t want to look like he was eavesdropping on anybody. Chay wasn’t too far removed from his teen years to remember that he and his friends had all but climbed the walls after the bell rung to get away from their teachers.



The field at Brighton High was nothing to shake a stick at. Chayton had learned, during his tour of the school grounds this morning that Brighton had just received a generous grant which allowed them to do some much needed renovations. These kids were lucky. Chayton grew up on a reservation back in Colorado, in a town that was so small you couldn’t find it on a map if you had a spyglass and a prayer. They certainly hadn’t had a big ass field for sports, acres of freshly mowed, lush green grass to run over, a shiny new baseball diamond, and a renovated gym and cafeteria.



Running Rivers Middle/High School stayed operational because of good luck (or bad luck, depending on how you looked at things) and a building inspector that didn’t care to do the job the town paid him. Chayton couldn’t get himself gone fast enough. Newly graduated from college, he had traveled over four hundred miles to escape the clutches of his small, backwater, racist prairie of a town.



He felt as free as a bird, which sounded silly when said out loud, but he figured it was okay to think such things in his head. Brighton wasn’t that big either, but if he’d wanted big he’d have headed for someplace Northeast. He liked that it was a descent size, full of suburban neighbors, rampant with soccer moms, daycares, and Sunday morning baseball games. It wasn’t his old small town and that was what mattered.



Chayton shrugged off his jacket, and dug into his briefcase for his mini-laptop. It was brand spanking new. He’d stayed up really late the night before setting it up so it’d be ready for his first week of school—which officially started tomorrow. Today had just been touring and sitting in on other people’s classes, paper-signing and boring lectures and conversations. He had a lot to prove, being not only a first time teacher but a newbie in this small town.



People would be watching him with a sharp eye and he didn’t want to screw anything up.

The first order of the day was to set up his account on the school website and email his friend, Scott, who still lived just off the rez, and tell him he was okay. Scott had been more concerned than Chayton’s grandparents when he learned that his best friend was moving so far away. Chayton’s grandfather, Cochise Ulhas hadn’t commented about his grandson’s departure. Hell, he hadn’t had much to say in the past eleven months since Chayton came out to him as gay. Grandmother, though not nearly as disappointed in him, held the old belief of complete obedience to one’s husband even if he was wrong. Grandmother had only ever spoken to him twice since his ‘disgrace’. Once to tell him that Cochise still loved him and the last time just before he had left to tell him goodbye.



Just thinking about it made tears of frustration and sorrow burn at the back of his eyes so he pushed those unhappy thoughts aside, got online on his mini, and accessed the schools website. Setting up his account was pretty simple. He made his password, entered his email address information and even made a brief synopsis about who he was and the degrees he held.



Then he closed out of all of that and opened up AOL. Scott Wisdom was a computer programmer. The man lived and breathed internet, code, and gigabytes. He didn’t worry that Scott wasn’t online. Even if his old friend was away from his computer, he’d set up his account on his blackberry.



So when Chayton typed : @SWiz Hi.



Scott typed: @Chay88 Miss u already



@SWiz *tear drop*



@Chay88 lol spaz. How’s Britain?



@SWiz Brighton?



@Chay88 XD yeah



@SWiz Gr8 I like it here. It’s not the Rez. That’s a +.



@Chay88 speaking of the devil’s accommodations. I saw ur gramps. He looks angry.



@SWiz That’s his natural expression.



@Chay88 Lol settle in the house yet?



@SWiz No. Have a ton of unpacking to do.



@Chay88 Need help?



@SWiz U dropping everything to travel up here?



@Chay88 Good point. I’m overloaded here.



@SWiz U like the pressure.



@Chay88 I do. Chay?



@SWiz Yup?



@Chay88 R u really happy? I cld hijack a blimp & cum rescue u.



@SWiz U’re afraid of heights.



@Chay88 U gotta point. Gah!



@SWiz Lol I’m fine. Chillin out on the bleachers. Watching football practice. Nice day out.



@Chay88 Oh, watchin all those tightends push each other down and grab for the balls.



@SWiz Perv! Don’t talk like that. I’m using school wifi!



@Chay88 Sorreh!



@SWiz Forgiven. Perve.



“Hey!”



Chay nearly jumped a foot in the air as at the sound of that breathless voice. As it was, he nearly activated his two year warranty for accidental drops and spills on his mini at the sound of that voice.



The kid had quicker reflexes than Chay did. One big hand reached out and pushed the laptop solidly back onto Chayton’s lap. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”



Chay nodded, subtlety pushing the laptop lid down until it was almost closed. Even though the young man stood opposite of where he sat and couldn’t see the screen he’d rather be safe than sorry. “It’s okay. Thanks for the save.”



The kid produced a smile that would have made the Devil weep. Chayton’s insides tried their best to do a cartwheel. The man looked like a young, and if possible, even more handsome Til Schweiger. The fates were cruel. One look down at the young man’s football uniform let Chay know that the boy was firmly off his radar. Even had he not been a student, Chay wasn’t sure he’d ever work up the courage to think someone this handsome might spare him a second glance. Which brought him around to the question of what this football stud was doing standing in front of him.



“Um… is this your seat?” Plenty of experience with school bullies had hardwired Chay to defer to brawn over his brains. However, if he’d been inclined to use his brain he’d have remembered the fact that he was a teacher and not a school kid being run out of his seat by a bully. Chay shut his laptop and started to stand, but the young man lightly touched his shoulder, his smile soft, gray-blue eyes sparkling and Chay felt warmth blossom in his cheeks and much lower.



“Hey, I didn’t come here to run you out of your seat. I just came by to say hello. I saw you while I was out in the field. Thought you might be a new teacher here. He held out his hand. “Andrew Robinson.”



“Oh,” Chay felt like a first class dweeb. He put his hand in Andrew’s and shook. “I’m, uh, Chayton Whitehorse. I’ll be teaching History and English here.”



Til Schweiger Jr’s smile came back in full force. “That’s great. Welcome to Brighton High. I’m sure you’ll like it here.”



Chay nodded and smiled back. He was sure he’d like it too.