By the next morning, the storm had dumped over a foot of snow.
Peter didn’t think he slept – he tossed and turned, feeling the memory of Neal’s lips under his – the scratch of his beard against his cheeks. His body – hot and young and hard. Neal’s hands, as the scrabbled and clung and scratched at his back. And the feel of his sex as it rode his thigh.
His own sex was an aching throb – like a wound. He stroked himself off in the shower, and again a little after midnight, but every time he thought about Neal, he swelled to a full erection.
Peter finally dropped into a sleep populated by many Neal Caffreys – some younger than he was now, some older – college aged, and some even older still. They all looked at him and laughed and laughed and laughed. And then turned their backs and walked away.
The scrape of a snow shovel and the rumble of a plow woke him from a sleep that somehow went from restless to profound. Peter grabbed his watch. It was a little after seven. He checked his phone – now that the storm had passed, the reception improved and he called in. As Hughes had said yesterday – the school was closed.
Peter leaned back against the pillows, afraid to face the day.
He laid there for a few minutes, cursing his cowardness. It took the sound of Neal’s voice – laughter at something the plow driver must have said – to get him out of bed.
Thankfully, his pants had dried. The though of putting on sweatpants stained with Neal’s come was too much to bear. He dressed and gathered his belongings, venturing downstairs – praying that Neal was outside and he could make his departure with a minimal amount of fuss.
Neal had done an admirable job of shoveling. He was wearing ski pants and high boots and a turtleneck sweater – and looked like something out of a magazine.
He must have heard Peter come outside.
“Mr. Burke! You’re all dug out, and it looks like your car’s fine.”
Neal’s blue eyes sparkled – but Peter was infinitely grateful that he seemed to accept that their relationship (if there really was one) had to remain on a student/teacher footing.
“Thank you, Neal.” He put his bags in the trunk of his car.
“Do you want breakfast? Coffee?” Neal was unchanged – surprisingly so – from their encounter last night. Maybe it was all a dream?
“No, I need to go.”
The plow pushed the last of the snow out onto the curb and the driver gave a shout and a wave before heading off. Neal waved back and turned to Peter.
“Peter...” Neal was all excited smiles now – it definitely wasn’t a dream.
“Neal...” He stretched the name out...making it a threat, a question, a statement of fact.
Neal tilted up his chin and looked him in the eye.
He is going to be some kind of man.
“Tomorrow – you’ll be Mr. Burke, my favorite teacher. But now – here, you’re Peter.”
Peter nodded – not liking, but understanding.
“You think that I’m crushing on you, I get that. But I’m not. What I feel is real and I don’t think it will ever change. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I can’t feel as strong.”
“Neal...”
“I know you want me to find who I am...but I know who I am now. And it makes me happy. So unless you didn’t mean it, you’re going to be stuck with me.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. He knew it was wrong to encourage Neal’s feelings, but if they could make it through, then maybe there was a chance. He’d be stupid not to grab it with both hands.
And Peter Burke may be many things, but stupid he wasn’t.
“Okay, Neal – but tomorrow, in school – it’s as if this never happened. You have to accept that. No special looks, no winks and nods and playing games with me. And if at any point, you find someone – someone you feel something for, you grab on to that and don’t ever, ever look back.”
Peter opened his car door but Neal put a restraining hand on his arm.
“I understand, Peter. And I can live with that.” Neal leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be careful driving.”
The spot where Neal’s lips brushed burned.
He stepped away from the Taurus and Peter got in and buckled up. As he drove down the curving driveway, he watched Neal in the rearview mirror. Standing there, arms at his side, legs spread, looking like he was reading to take on the world.
Re: Teach Me - Part XII
Peter didn’t think he slept – he tossed and turned, feeling the memory of Neal’s lips under his – the scratch of his beard against his cheeks. His body – hot and young and hard. Neal’s hands, as the scrabbled and clung and scratched at his back. And the feel of his sex as it rode his thigh.
His own sex was an aching throb – like a wound. He stroked himself off in the shower, and again a little after midnight, but every time he thought about Neal, he swelled to a full erection.
Peter finally dropped into a sleep populated by many Neal Caffreys – some younger than he was now, some older – college aged, and some even older still. They all looked at him and laughed and laughed and laughed. And then turned their backs and walked away.
The scrape of a snow shovel and the rumble of a plow woke him from a sleep that somehow went from restless to profound. Peter grabbed his watch. It was a little after seven. He checked his phone – now that the storm had passed, the reception improved and he called in. As Hughes had said yesterday – the school was closed.
Peter leaned back against the pillows, afraid to face the day.
He laid there for a few minutes, cursing his cowardness. It took the sound of Neal’s voice – laughter at something the plow driver must have said – to get him out of bed.
Thankfully, his pants had dried. The though of putting on sweatpants stained with Neal’s come was too much to bear. He dressed and gathered his belongings, venturing downstairs – praying that Neal was outside and he could make his departure with a minimal amount of fuss.
Neal had done an admirable job of shoveling. He was wearing ski pants and high boots and a turtleneck sweater – and looked like something out of a magazine.
He must have heard Peter come outside.
“Mr. Burke! You’re all dug out, and it looks like your car’s fine.”
Neal’s blue eyes sparkled – but Peter was infinitely grateful that he seemed to accept that their relationship (if there really was one) had to remain on a student/teacher footing.
“Thank you, Neal.” He put his bags in the trunk of his car.
“Do you want breakfast? Coffee?” Neal was unchanged – surprisingly so – from their encounter last night. Maybe it was all a dream?
“No, I need to go.”
The plow pushed the last of the snow out onto the curb and the driver gave a shout and a wave before heading off. Neal waved back and turned to Peter.
“Peter...” Neal was all excited smiles now – it definitely wasn’t a dream.
“Neal...” He stretched the name out...making it a threat, a question, a statement of fact.
Neal tilted up his chin and looked him in the eye.
He is going to be some kind of man.
“Tomorrow – you’ll be Mr. Burke, my favorite teacher. But now – here, you’re Peter.”
Peter nodded – not liking, but understanding.
“You think that I’m crushing on you, I get that. But I’m not. What I feel is real and I don’t think it will ever change. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I can’t feel as strong.”
“Neal...”
“I know you want me to find who I am...but I know who I am now. And it makes me happy. So unless you didn’t mean it, you’re going to be stuck with me.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. He knew it was wrong to encourage Neal’s feelings, but if they could make it through, then maybe there was a chance. He’d be stupid not to grab it with both hands.
And Peter Burke may be many things, but stupid he wasn’t.
“Okay, Neal – but tomorrow, in school – it’s as if this never happened. You have to accept that. No special looks, no winks and nods and playing games with me. And if at any point, you find someone – someone you feel something for, you grab on to that and don’t ever, ever look back.”
Peter opened his car door but Neal put a restraining hand on his arm.
“I understand, Peter. And I can live with that.” Neal leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be careful driving.”
The spot where Neal’s lips brushed burned.
He stepped away from the Taurus and Peter got in and buckled up. As he drove down the curving driveway, he watched Neal in the rearview mirror. Standing there, arms at his side, legs spread, looking like he was reading to take on the world.