Neal grinned - but the illusion of maturity didn’t fade. Maybe it wasn’t an illusion. “No - I heard every word you said, and a lot of stuff you didn’t say.”
“But you understand why?” Peter hated the touch of pleading in his voice.
“Yeah - I do. You could lose your job.”
“Yes - I could. But it’s more than that.”
“I’m not a dumb kid.”
“No, Neal - you’re not dumb, and at seventeen, not really a kid either. But you are very young, and you’ve still got your whole world in front of you. Less than a year from now - you’ll be in college, with young men that are your own age - you’ll forget about this. Forget about me.”
Neal touched the back of his hand. “I don’t think so.”
“Neal, come on. Fifteen minutes ago I was Mr. Burke – your calculus teacher, not an object of desire.”
“That’s not true.”
Peter looked at Neal, startled.
“I’ve been thinking about you. Lots. I – I... dream about you.” Neal blushed bright, bright red. “I think about us...as if we were real friends.”
Peter groaned inside, but he had to make a stand. “Neal – I am your friend. Your ‘real’ friend.”
“No – I mean that we are boyfriends. We date and stuff.” Neal’s hand slipped up Peter’s wrist, hot and enticing.
He didn’t know what to say – or at least how to say it without crushing Neal’s dreams – embarrasing him – making him feel unwanted. Or making himself feel like an idiot, an old fool, a destroyer of innocence. So he stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, just waiting for disaster to strike.
“I think about us a lot. Most times, when I go into the city, I pretend you’re with me – we go to the museums, concerts. We go out to dinner, and then...”
Peter didn’t say anything, his heart ached. He hadn’t realized how far Neal’s attachment had gone. So much for telling himself that he was a father figure to Neal.
Neal must have read something in his silence. “I’m pathetic. Aren’t I?” He pulled his hand away and shoved him in his pockets.
“No, no – you’re certainly not. I am honored.” And honestly...very frightened. Peter wanted to touch Neal, but refused to let himself.
“That’s why I asked you if you were married. I thought maybe ... maybe if you weren’t, you’d want to be friends.” Neal bit his lip. “It wouldn’t have mattered that you weren’t like me...”
“Like you?” Peter was a little confused – or maybe his brain wasn’t functioning at all – except for imagining himself and Neal – together. Not as a sweet teenager and a disgusting older man – but as friends enjoying themselves.
“Yeah – gay. I didn’t know you were...but I liked too imagine us together. Doing stuff...fooling around. You know...” Neal’s voice faded out with embarrassment.
Peter understood those fantasies all too well – it was easy, safe to think about people you’d never have a chance with, people who wouldn’t turn you down because you could never give them a chance to.
He struggled to get himself under control. “Neal, that changes nothing. I don’t want to tell you what you should and should not feel, what you should and should not think about ... but you’re at a turning point in your life. You need to explore who you are, not tie yourself – even for a little while – to a dry and used-up middle aged man.”
“You’re not like that! You’re nice and your funny and your smart and I ... I think you’re sexy. I can’t talk with anyone else – you get me. You understand me.”
You understand me… If you say something three times, that means it’s true
“Neal – you are going to go to college in a few months. To a school that’s know for its liberal thinking and acceptance of all kinds. You’ll find smart – brilliant – people there. Young men from all over the world that are your own age. You need to do that. You need to explore and enjoy yourself.”
“But I thought you said I should be in love for my first time?”
“Neal – I did, and I do believe that. And I really believe that you need to find a relationship with someone your own age – someone who’ll ...” Peter shut himself up. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: Teach Me - Part IX
Date: 2011-01-14 02:11 am (UTC)“But you understand why?” Peter hated the touch of pleading in his voice.
“Yeah - I do. You could lose your job.”
“Yes - I could. But it’s more than that.”
“I’m not a dumb kid.”
“No, Neal - you’re not dumb, and at seventeen, not really a kid either. But you are very young, and you’ve still got your whole world in front of you. Less than a year from now - you’ll be in college, with young men that are your own age - you’ll forget about this. Forget about me.”
Neal touched the back of his hand. “I don’t think so.”
“Neal, come on. Fifteen minutes ago I was Mr. Burke – your calculus teacher, not an object of desire.”
“That’s not true.”
Peter looked at Neal, startled.
“I’ve been thinking about you. Lots. I – I... dream about you.” Neal blushed bright, bright red. “I think about us...as if we were real friends.”
Peter groaned inside, but he had to make a stand. “Neal – I am your friend. Your ‘real’ friend.”
“No – I mean that we are boyfriends. We date and stuff.” Neal’s hand slipped up Peter’s wrist, hot and enticing.
He didn’t know what to say – or at least how to say it without crushing Neal’s dreams – embarrasing him – making him feel unwanted. Or making himself feel like an idiot, an old fool, a destroyer of innocence. So he stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, just waiting for disaster to strike.
“I think about us a lot. Most times, when I go into the city, I pretend you’re with me – we go to the museums, concerts. We go out to dinner, and then...”
Peter didn’t say anything, his heart ached. He hadn’t realized how far Neal’s attachment had gone. So much for telling himself that he was a father figure to Neal.
Neal must have read something in his silence. “I’m pathetic. Aren’t I?” He pulled his hand away and shoved him in his pockets.
“No, no – you’re certainly not. I am honored.” And honestly...very frightened. Peter wanted to touch Neal, but refused to let himself.
“That’s why I asked you if you were married. I thought maybe ... maybe if you weren’t, you’d want to be friends.” Neal bit his lip. “It wouldn’t have mattered that you weren’t like me...”
“Like you?” Peter was a little confused – or maybe his brain wasn’t functioning at all – except for imagining himself and Neal – together. Not as a sweet teenager and a disgusting older man – but as friends enjoying themselves.
“Yeah – gay. I didn’t know you were...but I liked too imagine us together. Doing stuff...fooling around. You know...” Neal’s voice faded out with embarrassment.
Peter understood those fantasies all too well – it was easy, safe to think about people you’d never have a chance with, people who wouldn’t turn you down because you could never give them a chance to.
He struggled to get himself under control. “Neal, that changes nothing. I don’t want to tell you what you should and should not feel, what you should and should not think about ... but you’re at a turning point in your life. You need to explore who you are, not tie yourself – even for a little while – to a dry and used-up middle aged man.”
“You’re not like that! You’re nice and your funny and your smart and I ... I think you’re sexy. I can’t talk with anyone else – you get me. You understand me.”
You understand me… If you say something three times, that means it’s true
“Neal – you are going to go to college in a few months. To a school that’s know for its liberal thinking and acceptance of all kinds. You’ll find smart – brilliant – people there. Young men from all over the world that are your own age. You need to do that. You need to explore and enjoy yourself.”
“But I thought you said I should be in love for my first time?”
“Neal – I did, and I do believe that. And I really believe that you need to find a relationship with someone your own age – someone who’ll ...” Peter shut himself up. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.