Crush

Their kinship opened up the floodgates and Chay wasn’t sure how to stem the flow of attention he received from Andrew. Every chance he could get the young man was at Chay’s house, bringing movies, video games or books he had come across and thought Chay would like too. Sometimes he invited Chay to go out with him but Chay didn’t dare be seen in public hanging out with just Drew, although one time he did join Drew and some other students in the gym for a game of basketball.



Chay found he was increasingly reluctant to stop Drew from barging into his life. For one thing, his constant presence eased some of Chay’s loneliness. For another, he genuinely liked Drew—perhaps he was growing to like him more than he should. It was hard not to like him. He was charismatic and charming and fun to be around.



His earlier analogy to Drew being as the sun was not far off. Drew had a shining personality and everyone wanted to be around him, to bask in his warmth, including Chay.



However, Chay was no fool. The worry that one of his neighbors might get the wrong idea about Drew’s visits began to grow. They lived in the same neighborhood after all. Someone was bound to notice. He didn’t want to deal with rumors brought on by speculation and he didn’t want to continue risking his job.



This had to stop.





Since Friday had unofficially become movie night, Chay resolved to be honest with Drew after they finished the movie. He’d try to be as supportive as possible, but he couldn’t have Drew coming over every evening and they couldn’t hang out as much. Drew would have to stop lingering in his classroom long after the class had ended and he’d have to stop seeking him out when he was on hall or lunch duty.



He’d already let things go too far. Teachers couldn’t form friendships like this with students. No matter how harmless it really was. To an outsider looking in they’d surely think Chay had ulterior motives. Being the adult in the situation, Chay knew it was up to him to make things right.



Like clockwork Drew arrived at his house, arms full of snacks and movies. He flashed Chay a disarming smile as he strolled in, dropped his armload on the couch and headed for the staircase. “Man, I have to pee like a racehorse. Be right back.”



It was telling how familiar Drew was with Chay’s house that he didn’t ask for permission.



Already in a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt, Chay padded over to the couch and gathered the snacks up to take them into the kitchen. He put the bag of popcorn in the microwave and pulled two cans of lemon soda out of the fridge while the popcorn got ready. In a small bowl he shook out Drew’s favorite snacks—jelly beans, and tossed some bite-sized snickers on a tray.



When Chay returned to the living room Drew was already downstairs, shedding his coat, his sneakers discarded and watching the trailers roll on the screen when Chay entered. Someone screamed on the television and Chay jumped.



Drew saw him and chuckled. “I brought a horror film this time.”



Chay’s eyes grew round. “You know I’ll have nightmares.”



Drew tossed his coat onto the chair arm and approached Chay to take some of his burden before he spilled it from being startled to death. “I’ll ward off any bad dreams.”



Shaking his head at his movie choice, Chay curled up on the couch with an afghan thrown over his lap. Drew turned out the two side-table lamps.



Chay pouted.



In the dark Drew’s smile made his belly tighten. Drew scooted closer, grabbed up the popcorn and pressed play. Thirty minutes into the movie, Chay was all but crawling underneath him. He had his feet tucked under Drew’s thigh and his fingers digging into Drew’s arm. Each time the killer showed up he’d bury his face into Drew’s arm. “Oh, gawd, is he dead?” he whispered.



Drew laughed so hard he spilled some of the popcorn. Then he whispered back, “Hey, why are we whispering?”



Drew’s playfulness eased some of Chay’s fears and had him laughing too.



During a particularly gruesome scene Drew flung his arm around Chay and held his shivering body against his side until the hacking of body parts was over. “You are sick, Andrew Robinson,” Chay mumbled into his shirt.



Drew agreed as he popped a jelly bean in his mouth.



Drew’s hand slid up his arm, making the shivers worst. Suddenly aware of his body in proximity to Drew’s, Chay tried to scoot back.



Drew held him tight against his side. “Just stay put until it’s over. I’ll warn you when it’s the bad parts.”



“You’ve seen this before?” Chay asked incredulously.



“At a movie theater, yeah. Couldn’t hear much of it though. Jessica blew my eardrum out.” Chay only felt a little bit better to realize he’d one-up’d a girl. At least he wasn’t screaming, though the occasional squeak did slip out.



He blamed the movie for his scattered brain cells when he asked, “Is Jessica your girlfriend?”



Chay tried to remember if Drew had ever given any of the girls at Brighton High special attention. He’d seen plenty of girls hanging off Drew’s arm, but his interactions with them seemed almost casual. Drew, Chay was finding out, was a very physical guy. He certainly didn’t appear affected by their close proximity and his touches—as thrilling as they were for Chay—were probably just habit for Drew.



Drew’s hand slid up his spine again, drawing another shudder and an answering pulse between his legs. Chay closed his eyes and looked away, ashamed that he was getting excited by an adolescent’s touch. Here, in the dark, with Drew being gallant and Chay scared of his own shadow, Chay could almost forget that Drew wasn’t legal. Almost.



“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.” Gathering the afghan around him, Chay tried to scoot away again. Drew’s fingers curled around the curve of his slim waist, and held him right where he was.



“No, it’s alright. Jessica and I dated about a year ago. It didn’t work out. You can guess why.”



“Because you like guys.” Stupid, fucking stupid thing to say.



“Yeah.” A smile tilted up the corner’s of Drew’s sensual mouth. “Because I like guys.” Chay wasn’t sure if it were his imagination playing tricks on him or if Drew had indeed put an extra emphasis on the last word.



A blood curdling scream cut into the silence. It didn’t help that Drew had brought over and installed his surround sound two weeks ago. Chay reacted like a cat, launching himself to safety in Drew’s arms. The mostly empty bowl of popcorn in Drew’s lap clattered to the ground as he caught Chay, wrapped up like a piglet in an afghan.



“Sorry, sorry,” as soon as he realized what he’d done, Chay started retreating. Turning his head too abruptly his forehead bumped against Drew’s chin. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m—.” Hands flat against Drew’s rock-hard abdomen Chay tried to push off the young man.



An insistent nudge beneath his chin had Chay looking up to see what the matter was. His brain had just began to process the fact that Drew was close—much too close—before his lips were claimed in a searing kiss.



Reflexively Chay’s fingers curled in the soft, body-warmed material of Drew’s white t-shirt. Even as his thinking center of his brain shrieked at him to put a stop to this, the slanting of Drew’s mouth, the large warm hands that cupped his head and tilted it just so, and the first darting swipe of Drew’s tongue dashed his first thought to ashes.



Drew’s fingers laced through his hair, holding him in place. With nip and a kiss, Drew whispered against his lips. “Shush, hush it’s okay. It’s okay. Just let me, Chay.” Had Chay made a sound? He couldn’t remember. His ears were filled with the sounds of his thundering heartbeat and rapid breathing.



The brief separation and whispered words splintered the spell long enough for him to think clearly. He started to struggle against Drew’s hold—tried to turn his face away.



Drew lapped the corner of his mouth. Thumbs stroking the fine bones of his cheek, Drew brought their mouths together for a more thorough claiming. A gasp for breath left Chay’s mouth vulnerable for plunder. Drew swept inside as if he had every right.



Chay heard the sound he made this time.A part of him wanted to deny that such a sensual sound of need had been born from his own throat.



Undeterred by Chay’s inner struggles, Drew moved his arm to circle Chay’s slim waist, bodily lifting him until Chay\'s chest was flush with Drew’s torso. The shard of arousal that shot through Chay was swift and very nearly painful. Heat flooded Chay’s system and fired his nerves to sizzling life. The fingers in his hair caressed and stroked, as mobile as the tongue flicking and curling against his own.



Just when he thought he’d pass out from lack of air, Drew backed off, suckling at his lower lip as Chay gasped for a breath. Drew’s agile tongue flitted over his chin and down his throat. Wherever it touched, fire raced over his skin.



Chay wanted to keep his eyes closed, to maintain that part of his psyche that refused to believe that this was happening. The part of his brain still functioning properly urged him to face this matter head on. He had to look. He had to stop this.



“Drew no! Stop!”



Drew appeared deaf to his words. With an agile twist, he’d no doubt learned taking take down players on the football field, Drew pushed Chay flat on his back on the couch. Drew nudged his way between Chay’s legs. His washboard abs brushed against Chay’s erection as he pushed the older man’s t-shirt up and out of the way so that could map the contours of Chay’s flat belly.



Chay trembled uncontrollably as that strong hand slid over his skin leaving goosebumps it its wake. The blood roaring in his ears drowned out the screams coming from the television and the persistent warning buzzing at the back of his brain. Feeling very much like a lamb in the clutches of a wolf, Chay fought the instinct to surrender to the inevitable.



He didn’t, because one undeniable fact flashed in the back of his brain over and over again.



Drew was only seventeen years old.



His resolve hardened even as his body cried out in denial; at war with his thoughts. It took an inhuman effort to break free of Drew’s gasp, but the element of surprise was on Chay\'s side. Drew could not have anticipated Clay shoving away so forcefully. Confusion flickered across Drew’s handsome face at the sudden loss.



Chay propelled himself across the couch by pushing off the cushions with the heels of his feet. The top of his head connected with the chair arm. He ignored the flare of pain but when he inadvertently pinned his long hair against the couch while trying to sit up, he couldn\'t hide the wince of pain.



Drew moved quickly to help him to free it, working the long hair from beneath Chay’s elbow. “Easy, you’re hurting yourself,” Drew admonished. Thankfully the big jock didn’t try and drag Chay back under him. Chay wasn’t sure he’d have the same luck again.



Breathing as though he’d just run a race, Chay lifted himself into a sitting position on the chair arm. He stared wild-eyed at Drew’s disappointed expression.

.

Chay ran a punishing hand through his tousled hair. “We can’t… “I’m y-your teacher, Drew. And even if I wasn’t, you’re only seventeen!”



Drew shook his head and leaned forward, reaching for him, presumably to draw him back. Chay couldn’t allow himself to be touched again, fearful that his good intentions might just crumble to ash under Drew’s too knowledgeable fingers and mouth.



Less than gracefully he scampered off the couch, retreating behind its thick cushiony arm as if it were some great impregnable wall.



Drew looked on the verge of smiling as he took note of Chay’s meager defense. “Does it matter how old I am? We both wanted it. Don’t tell me you can deny it?”



Fighting not to lick his kiss-swollen, tingling lips or reach down to adjust the vicious twist in his sweats and underwear—which impeded the lengthening of his thickening cock, Chay knew himself to be a liar if he should say the words. He had wanted it. Wanted it even now, but Drew’s age and his position as a teacher stayed his hand.



Instead of answering the question, Chay did what he knew was right. “I think it’s time for you to go, Mr. Robinson.” He didn’t miss how the use of his last name made Drew’s lip curl with displeasure.



Chay pressed on with a more scholarly tone, gaining confidence as he cloaked himself in authority. “It’s improper for us to be…involved in this m-manner. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to refrain from coming to my house again. I’ll only be seeing you in a professional manner inside the classroom, and then only during school hours.” Finished with his short speech, Chay held his breath and prayed some of what he’d said would get past the raging hormones and trigger-happy instincts of Drew’s teenage mind.



Drew’s frown was grim. “So that’s the way you want to play it, Chay? Like none of this ever happened?”



Chay gave one sharp nod but a crack formed in his tough façade. “Please Drew, I’m sorry if I led you on—however unintentionally— but this ends here. Please get out.”



The younger man turned away from Chay and started to gather his things. Chay let out a sigh of relief. For the first time in ten minutes he felt like he could breathe again.



With his coat on one arm and a stack of DVD’s in the other, Drew shoved his socked feet into his discarded sneakers and flicked a glance toward the door. He turned a solemn look on Chay. “Are you sure you want me to leave?”



“Yes.” Chay held his breath.



Drew nodded and started heading for the door. Chay followed at a snail’s pace. He planned to throw the bolt and put on the chain tonight, not because he feared Drew would try breaking down his door at three in the morning but because putting up those barriers would give him something to do and imbue him with a false since of comfort. False it may be, but it was all he had for tonight. Tomorrow would bring its own troubles.



Drew remained stoically silent and frighteningly calm as he walked to the exit and passed through the door onto Chay’s tiny excuse for a porch. Then he turned back to Chay with a half-smile—and it was beautiful for all that it was only at half wattage. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chay.”



Chay quickly slammed the door and turned the lock, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough to miss Andrew’s parting look. The look that said this wasn’t nearly over. Not by a long shot.