Lessons Learned

On the outside, Russell Gaines suddenly seemed like the perfect student: always getting to class early, always staying late to help out, always quiet but involved from his desk in the back. Of course, little did the rest of his classmates know that his attentions had nothing to do with a fascination of the English Language. In fact, Russell hated English. Punctuation, Grammar, all of it. It made no sense to him, and he didn’t care enough to learn. Oh, no. His focus was on something completely unrelated to such things as the use of prepositions in a phrase. His focus was on the man now scribbling those pointless words across the board.

Hal Falkner, however, was very, VERY good at acting as though nothing had changed between him and the boy. Every attempt Russell had made to talk with the teacher had been thwarted, the man simply too busy to feed Russell’s curiosity or too tired to deal with his questions at all. A week had gone by, and they’d spoken no more than an agitated sentence or two to each other in total. And yet still, Russell found himself more hurt than angry. The man was a douchebag for stringing him along, there was no denying that much, but it made the boy wonder why. As much as he hated to admit it, the more Hal ignored him, the more he began to feel as though he’d been nothing more than an attempt to satisfy the horny bastard’s nymphomania. But still, every time he looked at Mr. Falkner’s desk, the crumpled test papers long passed back without explanation, he found himself shifting positions in his seat or putting his back pack in his lap to hide his erection.

“Damnit all.” He grumbled under his breath as he decided instead to focus on his sheet of doodling paper, already covered in band symbols and crappy sketches that were mostly of stick figures beating the shit out of other stick figures. At least, that’s what he’d been trying to draw until the paper was suddenly yanked out from underneath his pen, a line of ink tearing across the middle. “What the fuck!” Russell barked automatically, realizing a second too late that it was Hal now examining his shit-tastic artwork.

“Huh.” Hal scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the display. “If you’re going to draw in my class instead of pay attention, at least give me the benefit of giving you detention for something that isn’t shit.” And without another word, he crumpled it up and shoved it in his pocket, returning to the board.

Asshole, Russell wanted to say. Cock sucking, man-whore. Child molesting, rapist bitch. Way to treat the kid you fucked, shitface. I could report you. I could get you fired. I really could… But he knew he wouldn’t. Somehow, that man had gotten into Russell head. And into his pants. Willingly. Which was the problem, wasn’t it? Russell groaned internally, pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes of stifling the headache already threatening to ruin his afternoon.

Thankfully, within the next half hour, the bell rang, releasing Russell from his nightmare. When he made his way to the door, however, Mr. Falkner called him back. “I wasn’t lying about detention, Russell.” He said simply.

Russell glared. “Detention was moved to Mrs. Townslen’s room. I’m heading there now.” He placed his hand on the doorknob.

“I think not.” Hal smirked, walking up behind him and placing his hands on either side of Russell’s head, holding the door closed. Russell’s eyes darted automatically around the room. When had everyone left? He hadn’t even noticed that he’d taken his time today. Was he really that predictable that staying behind to try to talk to this son of a bitch had become a subconscious act? “Your detention’s with me today.” Russell’s heart leapt at the idea. And more importantly, so did his dick. But his common sense was still working, mulling over the frustration this man had caused over the last week, the doubt he’d planted and the hurt he’d instilled. So instead of pulling harshly at the collar of Hal’s shirt and crushing those agonizingly tempting lips to his own, Russell merely ducked below Hal’s arm and took a few steps away. Unfortunately, explaining his reaction wasn’t so automatic. “Something the matter, Russ?” Hal asked, an iciness to his tone that made Russell nervous.

“I’m not-” Those brave, equally icy words he’d rehearsed got caught in his throat, so he cleared it and tried again. “I’m not just going to let you bend me over a desk again, teach.” He tried, crossing his arms and spitting out the final word like it was a curse. Even he was surprised by how bitter it sounded. But even so, Hal only smiled, leaning his back against the door, amused.

“Is that so?”

Russell was taken aback. Did this guy think he was joking? “Of course it is!” Russell fumed. “I’m not some blow-up doll you can fuck at will and then throw in a corner, okay?”

“Oh, I see. You have NEEDS, is that it?” Hal offered sardonically. Russell glared, blushing.

“No! Wait. I mean… That’s not what I… Ugh! You’re such an ass!” Russell turned away from the teacher, running a hand over his face. He found it was surprisingly easier to talk to the man when he wasn’t looking at him. “What I mean is, you can’t just do something like that and then… And then not even talk to me about it, you know?”

“How sweet.” Hal chuckled in Russell’s ear all of a sudden, making the boy jump. “Is my pet upset that I’ve been neglecting him? Does he need me to take him for a walk?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Russell hissed, pulling away from the man before he could lay a hand on him. “I’m being serious. And I’m not your fucking pet.”

Hal held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, kid. You want to “talk” or whatever, then I’m here. Talk away.”

Russell blinked. “Really?”

“You’ve got five minutes.” He added harshly. “And if you’re not naked or on your knees by then, I’m going home.”

Russell blushed, glaring at the teacher for a moment before looking away. “You know what? This is stupid. I’m out. You can fuck yourself from now on, you apathetic, twisted-” The sound of the door locking made him pause. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going anywhere, kid.” Hal practically growled, walking up to Russell and grabbing his arm. “You wanted to talk,” He forced him into a chair. “So talk. Waste my time. Be a pussy. But you’re not leaving until I say so.” Russell tried to get up, only to have Hal shove a foot into his chest, forcing him back into the chair. “Clock’s ticking, Russ.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t make me clean your mouth out with my dick.” Hal smirked. “Again.”

“Fat, fucking chance.”

Hal removed his foot, leaning over the desk until his face was inches away from the boy’s, their noses practically touching. Russell swallowed, overwhelmed by the smell of the man. Like spearmint, chalk, and cologne. And cigarettes. “Your rebelliousness is really starting to piss me off.”

“You smoke?” Russell asked without thinking, the question catching Hal off guard. The man raised an eyebrow, backing off slightly.

“Why do you need to know?”

“I can smell it on you.” Russell replied honestly, though he had no idea why. “Is that why you’re always chewing gum? Because you smoke?”

“Smoking isn’t a crime, kid.” Hal smirked, back to himself.

Russell blushed, looking down at his hands, away from those prying eyes. “That doesn’t mean you should do it...”

Hal stared at the boy, probably for much longer than intended, before finally responding, “What the fuck do you care?” It was a question of curiosity, no anger or annoyance in his tone at all.

“It’s bad for you… that’s all.” Russell mumbled, rolling his eyes and feigning indifference. Poorly. “But if you want to die of lung cancer, be my guest. You’ve lived a long and semi-fulfilling life, I’m sure. You’re, like, what? Fifty or something?” Russell braced himself, waiting for a retort about his age at least, but there was only silence, and then moments later, booming laughter. Russell blinked, surprised.

“You worried about me, Russ?” Hal asked throatily, his voice no more than a teasing whisper. “Scared I’ll die and leave you without a fuck buddy?”

“That’s not it!” Russell spat, attempting to push the teacher away, but Hal refused to move.

“I’m too old for you, kid.” Hal said bluntly. “I’ve almost got ten years on you.”

“Yeah. I remember.” Russell muttered practically to himself. “You don't date boys. You just fuck ‘em.”

“That’s right.”

Russell looked away, angry at what he knew he was about to ask, but knowing there was no way to stop it. “Why don’t you, though?”

Hal looked at him, stunned. “Excuse me?”

“Why don’t you… date them?”

“Oh fuck no.” Hal stepped away from the boy as though he’d been slapped, brow furrowed in what Russell could only describe as disgust. “There is no fucking WAY I’m going down this road with a snot nosed brat like you. I get enough of this shit from my girlfriends. I don’t need it from some kid with a damn high school crush.”

Russell felt the heat in his face, the tightness in his chest, and yet somehow, as much as it hurt to hear Mr. Falkner say it aloud, Russell had expected nothing less. And it was because of this that he was able to compose his face and roll his eyes, smirking ever so slightly. “It was a question, dumbass. I wasn’t asking you to go to prom with me for god’s sakes.” This stopped Hal cold, eyes probing and strained, hard as stone as they scanned the boy’s stoic and tediously enticing face.

Hal placed a hand on the back of Russell’s chair, leaning in close again. “You want to know why I don’t date boys like you?” He growled. “Because if I did, you’d start asking me for more. More than I have to give. More than I WANT to give. I don’t need a kid like you knocking on my door in the middle of night cause you had some sort of fucking nightmare. I want a relationship like I want a bullet to the head.”

“Then… What DO you want?” Russell whispered back, his voice deeper than he expected, filled with a longing he couldn’t seem to restrain. Hal leaned in just that much closer.

“I wanna fuck you senseless, Russ. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Sounds good for me, but it makes you sound pathetic.” Russ smirked evilly, but Hal was not swayed.

“We’ll see who’s pathetic when you’re screaming for more, you little prick.”

You bastard, Russell had wanted to say, but Hal had already covered the distance between them, forcing their lips together harshly, silencing him at once. Russell’s back was pressed as far into the chair as possible, Hal’s knee inching into the space between his now spread legs. Hal’s tongue found its way into the boy’s mouth, hot and demanding, searching for something from Russell that he didn’t know how to give. So Russell kissed him back with as much force as he felt from the teacher, biting at the man’s bottom lip enough to draw blood. Hal hissed, but didn’t break the kiss, pushing his knee into the kid’s groin instead. Russell gasped, bucking against that knee, desperate for that blissfully added friction.

At last, Hal pulled away, both of them gasping for a breath they hadn’t realized they’d needed, Russell panting as Hal pulled the boy’s shirt over his head. He licked a line from bellybutton to collarbone, biting at his shoulder as he undid Russell’s pants.

Russell let his hands go where they may, first into that blonde-streaked, brown hair, then to the back of Hals neck, down his chest to his fly, freeing the man’s cock from its denim prison. Russell wrapped a hand around it, enjoying the gasp it elicited from the arrogant son of a bitch now pulling the band from Russell’s hair with his teeth. The dark brown strands fell around his face, sticking to his sweat-dotted brow, but Russell didn’t dare try to tie it back up. It would just get mussed and tangled anyway.

Russell gently stroked the man’s dick, running a thumb over the head and relishing the practically unintelligible swears and phrases that left Hal’s mouth in response. Until, all at once, Hal pulled away from the boy, yanking Russell out of the chair and to his feet, leading him to the back of the room where a couch had been set up for kids to read when they were done with their work for the day. Russell never would have imagined its other possible uses.

This time, Hal wasted no time, practically throwing the boy onto the couch in his passion, forcing him onto all four at one edge and pulling his pants to his ankles. That familiar, cold stickiness began forming into the crease of his ass, Hal inching a finger into the puckered hole slowly at first, then with little restraint, eager for what was to come, it seemed. Russell bit his tongue this time, knowing he was strong enough, and that the pain wouldn’t last long. Knowing that it was nothing compared to that fire he’d secretly been craving since their first time. That flash of light that wracked the senses into overload and left him tingling, hungry for more.

Not even bothering to remove his pants, Hal rubbed the tip of his cock at Russell’s entrance, the only warning before slamming into the boy at full force. Russell felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, barely able to gasp in surprise and definitely unable to cry out, not that it would have been wise to either way. Still, being fucked from behind was different. More painful maybe, and certainly not what Russell was expecting, but interesting nonetheless. Hal pulled out slowly, only to pound into him once, twice, three times more, all the while gripping so painfully at Russell's hips the boy had to bite his tongue to keep from whimpering. And then, finally, what he’d been waiting for. One particularly determined thrust hit that sweet spot inside him just right, Russell arching into it as he half cried, half choked in pleasure, his whole body shaking with the force of it. "Holy fucking sh-shit!" He barely registered Hal chuckling above him, muttering something incoherent before thrusting into that same spot over and over again, driving Russell mad with the glory of it.

At some point, Russell had managed enough coherency to wrap his own hand around his pleading cock, fisting out a rhythm that matched Hal’s thrusts. Within seconds, his climax overwhelmed him, the sudden impossible tensing of his muscles pulling his teacher over the edge with him, Hal biting his lip hard against force of his own release, while Russell merely screamed, “Fuck!” at the ceiling with no regard for secrecy or passerby. No longer able to hold his weight, Russell’s arms collapsed beneath him, the boy falling face first into the couch, Hal’s dick slipping free painfully enough for Russell to grunt, “Ow…” into the cushion, oen of those damned whimpers escaping him without his consent. Much like last time, things were silent for a moment, the only noise to breach the ringing in Russell’s ears being the faint sound of Hal zipping up his jeans.

With far too much effort, Russell turned around enough to slip his pants back on, taking a sick sort of pleasure at the tender areas around his waistband that would most certainly be finger-shaped bruises by the time he took a shower tonight. He spotted his shirt bunched up next to his desk at the other end of the room, but he chose to sit for a moment instead, watching his teacher straighten up the room some, faintly reminiscent of what they’d done, but mostly looking as though absolutely nothing had happened. It pissed Russell off.

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” Mr. Falkner asked, his tone just short of annoyed. Russell looked up to find him back at his desk, gathering his things to go home. Russell made himself get to his feet, trying his best not to cringe at the gross on his chest or the pain in his ass.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Russell scoffed, walking across the room and picking up his shirt. He tossed it on, vowing a shower before all else when he got home. “Let me guess. Get the fuck out?”

“You learn fast, kid.” Hal smirked, getting up and unlocking the door. Russell shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Cock sucking man-whore.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” Hal replied almost huskily, making Russell blush. He looked away quickly, not wanting to taint his words with embarrassment.

“You should really consider quitting smoking.” Russell mumbled, grabbing the doorknob and walking past the teacher without looking at him. “It would suck if you didn’t make it to thirty.”

Hal chuckled. “Can’t make any promises, kid.” He replied offhandedly. Russell turned towards him once more, glaring. Then, all at once, Russell shrugged, his blush still evident on his cheeks but his tone steady.

“It’s your life.” Russell muttered, tightening his grip on his back pack and escaping down the hall. Though not before another frustratingly knowing laugh echoed after him, followed shortly after by the sound of a closing door.