elrhiarhodan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elrhiarhodan) wrote2011-01-10 10:12 pm
elrhiarhodan) wrote2011-01-10 10:12 pm
Because I am a Dork...and a Geek
Was surfing through the new Mac App store this evening, and an app called Comic Life caught my eye. I was going to buy it for shits and giggles, but remembered that I may have already bought it. I did - it came with a software bundle I got a few years ago. So i finally tried it out, and played with some of the newly released pics.
Like I said - I am a dork and a geek.
Like I said - I am a dork and a geek.
Re: Teach Me - Part V
Peter was grateful until he took a sip – it was so sweet that he nearly gagged. But it was hot and Neal’s smile was … well. Not something he wanted to damage.
He handed the kid back the mug and took his coat off. His shoes were soaked through, as were his socks, and despite the hot drink, he was starting to shiver.
“Mr. Burke – if you want to change, we’ve got plenty of guest rooms.”
“Thank you, Neal.”
He kept his shoes on, not caring that he was tracking snow and grit on the polished marble stairs. Neal showed him into a large bedroom.
Neal snapped on a light. “This was my grandfather’s room – but Mom had it redone after I was born. I think she wanted to make it an office, but I don’t think she ever used it.”
There was an empty desk in the outer half of the room, a couch and fireplace in the middle, and a king sized bed dominated the rest. There was also a small en-suite bathroom.
Neal smiled – and it seemed that that was all he was doing – smiling at Peter like Peter was his only friend in the world. “My room’s just down the hall, Mr. Burke. But we can meet downstairs. There’s a library with a fireplace and a huge TV.”
Peter wanted to get away from the combination of Neal and large beds. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”
True enough, buy the time Peter had changed into his dry sweatpants and socks and went back downstairs, Neal was waiting for him. Like an eager puppy.
“I took your brief case into the library. I hope that’s okay.”
“Thank you, Neal - but I could have carried it.” He followed Neal into the library. It had, as promised, a huge TV, a fireplace, several comfortable-looking couches and an enormous desk with a computer - a large Apple iMac that Peter figured was the newest top of the line model.
The boy licked his lips. “Mr. Burke, sir...”
Peter groaned mentally. Again with the “sir”
“Yes, Neal?”
“You can share my desk - it’s a ‘partner desk’ - it belonged to my grandfather.” Neal beamed with pride.
It was, in fact, a two person desk, equipped with a double desk lamp that Peter was certain was Tiffany.
The boy stood there, eager and anxious.
“Thank you, Neal. You’re very generous.” Peter was rewarded with another blinding smile. He tried to subdue his body’s reactions when Neal pulled a chair over and sat him down.
They worked in companionable silence for a while. Peter marked the tests he had given to his three pre-Calculus classes, reviewed the lesson plans for the Calculus classes and estimated that there were only going to be a dozen students who would be prepared for the AP exam. Though this was Clarkridge, and all of the kids would take the test in June.
Neal seemed involved with his homework - flipping between old fashioned textbooks, the school mandated iPad and his computer. As Peter packed away his own materials, Neal pushed himself away from the desk and announced that he was done.
It was only eight o’clock.
“Would you like to watch a movie, Mr. Burke?” Neal bounced from one foot to the other - beautiful and adorable and Peter wondered if it would be safer to just go up to bed.
“Sure - anything you’d like.” Peter watched as Neal picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels, stopping at a channel that played foreign and independent films. Something in black and white, with German dialogue was playing.
“Ever see Wings of Desire, Mr. Burke?”
He had - and it was one of his favorite movies. “It’s a good film - you’ve seen it?”
“Yeah - it was playing at the Angelika a few months ago.” Neal named the famous Greenwich Village art house cinema. That troubled Peter a bit.
“You go down to the city by yourself a lot?”
Neal shrugged. “Yeah - a lot of times Mom doesn’t make it home on Fridays, so I take the train down and meet her for breakfast on Saturdays, spend the day in the city and we come back together.”
The picture of Neal’s home life just got a little grimmer - for some reason, he figured that Neal spent most of the day on his own.
Re: Teach Me - Part VI
“Yes, Neal. You can ask me anything.”
Neal ducked his head.
“When you said before...that my first time should be with someone I care about, did you really mean that - or were you just telling me that so I wouldn’t have sex? I mean - adults are always telling us not to do things that they do all the time. You’re not bullshitting me, right?”
Peter wished he were anywhere else right now. This was a moment of truth. The kid was way too smart to be fobbed off with some textbook line that paraphrased the 11th grade health class. Neal would undoubtedly see right through it, think he was the same as every other adult, and then go out and do something stupid. Or he could tell him the truth - or at least the truth according to the life of Peter Burke.
“Neal…”
The boy interrupted him. “I’ve been thinking that if I keep making a big deal out of it, I’ll never do anything. I mean - I’ve watched movies and stuff - even some of the really gross stuff on the internet, but - if I just go to one of the dance clubs and get together with a guy there, how bad can that be?”
Peter’s temper just about exploded. “Neal - that is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. I am appalled that a smart young man like you to even think of doing something so criminally, criminally stupid.” Peter didn’t want to think about the rage he felt at the thought of someone else touching Neal, kissing him, holding him.
Neal turned white and looked like he was about to burst into tears.
He forced himself to calm down. “Come here and sit down.” Neal didn’t move. “Neal, come here.” Peter patted the couch, and the kid reluctantly sat.
“Remember when you asked me to keep your secret?”
Neal nodded.
“I’m going to ask you for the same favor.”
Neal blinked. “You’re going to tell me a secret?”
Peter nodded, then shook his head. “It’s not something that no one else knows, but it’s definitely not common knowledge, and it’s not something that any of your fellow students need to know.”
“I won’t tell anyone else, Mr. Burke.” Neal stared at him, his eyes were huge unblinking pools of blue.
Peter looked at his hands and then back at Neal. This was a conversation that needed to be held eye-to-eye.
“Neal, you aren’t the only homosexual in this room. I’m gay too.”
Neal didn’t move - he seemed frozen by the news. Peter watched the expressions cross his student’s face. He was incredulous at first, then Peter thought he saw a spark of happiness, then his face settled into lines of anger.
Neal got up off the couch and paced the room, glaring back at Peter. “You were laughing at me when I told you, weren’t you.”
“No - Neal - absolutely not. Why would I laugh at you?”
“Because I’m a silly kid, coming out like it’s some great big deal.”
“Neal, Neal…” Peter didn’t get a chance to finish his thoughts before Neal bolted from the room, tears streaming down his face.
The kid was quick, but Peter was faster. He grabbed Neal’s arm and hauled him back to the couch. “Sit and listen.”
“First of all - I would never dream of laughing at you. I am honored that you trusted me enough to tell me. I know how hard it must have been.”
Neal’s face was set - he wasn’t giving Peter an inch.
“I knew I was gay when I was thirteen - and if you think it’s difficult now, it was impossible back then. Do you have any idea what it was like in 1977? To be queer? A faggot? A freak? And it wasn’t just getting called names. You were a target - and no one would come and help you if you got your face kicked in.”
Neal finally looked at him. “Is that what happened to you?”
“No, I never told anyone. But kids knew.”
Neal nodded.
“Is that what happened at Westover?”
He nodded again.
“I dated, I played sports, I did everything a normal kid was supposed to do.” Peter stopped, the memories still had the power to make him retch.
“But?”
“There was a guy at school - the basketball coach. I was good and he told me that with a little extra practice I could make the varsity team.”
“What did he do to you?” Neal sat next to him, hunched over and looking terrified.
Peter considered all the answers he could give that wouldn’t traumatize the young man, and then decided that the truth as the best answer.
Re: Teach Me - Part VII
“I think that he saw me for what I was, or maybe I was just another eager, vulnerable kid to him. I did a few weeks of after school practice with him, and he kept telling me I was going to make the team. The week before tryouts, he kept me for an extra hour and when I was in the locker room changing he came in. There was no one else there - all the other kids had left. He told me that he wanted me - that he knew what I was and that he understood.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yeah - but not deliberately. It wasn’t like he forced me. It was just...ugly.” Peter clenched and unclenched his fists. “I didn’t like him - I mean, I didn’t dislike him. But I was curious and I wanted someone to touch me the way I wanted to be touched. But doing it in a cold, smelly locker room - with someone who really didn’t care about me made it all wrong.”
Neal didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want that for you. You are smart - the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Peter was careful not to call Neal a kid - because this was not a discussion for kids. “You have so much promise, so much potential. You do something like you’re thinking about - it could ruin you. Do you understand that?”
“I … I guess so.” Neal shrugged, clearly uncomfortable that Peter had brought the discussion back to him.
“Neal - you go to the city and hook up with an older guy. What do you think is going to happen? Is he going to take the time to make you want it as much as he does? Or are you thinking about going into the men’s room at letting the guy put his dick in your mouth - on your knees in a room that stinks of piss and semen, surrounded by a dozen other guys doing the same thing.”
Neal flushed beet red, uncomfortable with Peter’s frankness.
“Neal - that’s not you and it’s not for you. You deserve better than that.”
“But there’s no one here. I hate the guys at school - they’re all idiots and jocks and there’s no one to talk to who understands me ... except you.” Neal’s speech was breathless and all of a sudden, Peter could see the wheels and gears in the young man’s head locking into place.
Between one moment and the next, Neal lauched himself at Peter, burrowing close, his hands everywhere, his mouth everywhere, a bundle of hot temptation.
“Neal, Neal - stop. Stop it.”
“No - Peter - don’t you see. It’s perfect. You understand - you know what it’s like. You can teach me, you can show me. You won’t hurt me. I know that. Please, please, please.”
Neal was clinging to him, climbing on him - offering himself in ways that Peter would never even let himself even dream about. It would have been so damn easy. He could make it right for Neal, he could show him, teach him - bring him happiness and pleasure.
But it would be wrong. Wrong beyond imagination.
He grabbed hold of Neal’s wrists and tried to push him away. “Neal - no. You have to stop. Please.”
They grappled - Neal trying to climb on top of him, rubbing against him, and Peter doing everything he could to keep away. It shouldn’t have been that difficult, Peter had the advantage of height and weight and strength, but Neal was like an eel. Finally, Neal slid off the couch and crouched at Peter’s knees, eyes wide, mouth opened, hands on Peter’s spread thighs. He closed his eyes at the provocative picture the young man made.
“Neal - listen to me. You have to stop this, now.”
“Why - why. Don’t you like me? Peter?” Neal used his first name again, the way he said it sent chills down his neck.
“Neal - I like you. Of course I do - you are my student, someone I am very proud to know. But what you are asking for is wrong.”
Re: Teach Me - Part VIII
“I - I’m sorry. I should have realized.” Neal gaped and blinked and the tears that threatened earlier burned tracks down his cheeks.
Peter knew he was going to damn himself by asking. “Realize what, Neal?”
“That you are with someone - that you’ve got a boyfriend.”
Oh, god - what an easy way out of this. For a very brief moment, he thought about letting Neal believe that. But a lie is a lie - and something that could so very easily be found out.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend or a partner. And I am not saying ‘no‘ because of that - it’s ‘no’ because it would be wrong.”
“Because I’m too young for you?” Neal sat down again, not at his feet, thank god, but next to him. Almost close enough to touch.
Peter took a deep breath and tried to find his sanity. “Neal - your age is a big reason why I’m telling you ‘no’.”
“I’ll be eighteen in two weeks.” He pulled out his wallet and his driver’s license and handed it to Peter. “I’ll be legal then - you won’t have to worry about statutory rape or anything.”
Peter looked at Neal’s license - and his birthday was in fact in two weeks. But that didn’t matter. “How the hell do you know about statutory rape laws?” Peter was very concerned why Neal would want to know something like that.
“Wikipedia.” Neal grinned, and then got shy. “There was a guy I liked at Wendover - he was nice to me. A senior - and he said we couldn’t do anything because he could go to jail, so I looked it up.”
Peter could see Neal doing that - but it surprised him that one of his classmates would know about age of consent. “How old were you at the time?”
Neal looked at everything except Peter.
“Neal?” He drew out that syllable.
“Fourteen. I was in ninth grade.”
Peter hand Neal back his driver’s license and resisted the urge to interrogate him on what he did with the older boy.
“Neal - age aside - even when your eighteen - you can’t have a relationship with me. I’m your teacher. It would be morally wrong.”
“No one has to know.” Neal reached out and Peter actually backed away. “If I say yes - if I ask you - why is it wrong?”
“Neal - there is a relationship of trust between us - as teacher and as student. To be intimate like you want us to be would break that trust. No matter how much you say you want this - you can’t consent. As long as you are a student and as long I am your teacher - it could never happen.”
Peter damned himself then - he knew that there were two holes in his argument. Each big enough to drive a train through. And Neal was too smart, too clever not to see them. And just as Neal was about to jump into one of them, Peter did his best to close it.
“And don’t you dare think of dropping Calculus or dropping out of school - because if you did, I’d have nothing to do with you - understand?” That took care of one, but the other…
Neal was quiet for a few moments - thinking so hard that Peter could almost read what was going through his brain.
“Peter …”
He didn’t have the strength to demand that Neal go back to calling him “Mr. Burke.” Too many boundaries had been crossed this night, some things could go back to the way they were.
“You’re not really saying ‘no’ are you.”
Peter didn’t answer.
“You’re saying ‘not yet,” right?”
It was Peter’s turn to get up, to move away - to try and find some distance. Because Neal was absolutely right. To be with Neal now was wrong - but later, when law and responsibility and his own moral code were no longer factors - yes. Yes he wanted Neal - and he thought that he’d want him until he died.
“Peter?”
He stopped pacing and paused at the fireplace - the hearth was cold, but there were logs and tinder and matches and in a matter of minutes, it could be blazing hot. Neal came and stood by him.
Peter looked at Neal. In the flickering light from the television (the angel had just taken his plunge to the mortal realm and finds his armor) he could see a new maturity and a hint of the man he would become.
Maybe, just maybe... “I was hoping you’d miss that.”
Re: Teach Me - Part IX
“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.
Re: Teach Me - Part IX
More, Master.
Please.
Re: Teach Me - Part IX
Re: Teach Me - Part X
“Neal – I can’t tell you I don’t want you. And I won’t lie to you when I tell you that I don’t want to take what you’re offering. But I can’t – I can’t and then live with myself.”
They stood there, Peter wishing he could just disappear.
Neal broke the silence. “What if I said I’d wait?”
“Wait?”
“Yeah – if I said that I’d wait for you. Wait until I graduated. Would you still be interested in me?”
“Neal...”
“You say that you want me too – but I’m too young. I’m a student. But when I wasn’t – would you still want me?”
This is what it means to be damned, Burke. “Yes, Neal –I would.”
Neal smiled - it was like the sunrise after a long storm. “You won’t be sorry.”
“Neal, Neal - I’m not the one sacrificing anything. And I think you really need to consider what you are promising.”
“I’m know what I’m promising - I am going to wait until I graduate. And then we can be together, right?”
“No - not quite. I want you to have a chance to experience life. I don’t want you to give up something that you shouldn’t be promising me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neal - if you are serious about what you want…”
“I am!”
“Let me finish...if you are serious...I want you to graduate and finish your first semester. You are free to do what ever you want - well not free to go to clubs and hook up with strangers - and if you still think you want to be with me, you can come see me when you come home for winter break.”
“But that’s almost a year! That’s not fair.”
“Neal - those are my terms. You finish high school, you start college. You live the life you were meant to have. And then...” Peter hoped he sounded implacable.
"Live the life I'm meant to live? Who are you, Dr. Phil?"
Neal pouted and it was all Peter could do not to laugh, or smack Neal on the side of his head. Or kiss him.
“Dr. Phil may be an idiot - but I’m not. I know first hand what it’s like - and I don’t want you to ever feel guilty or disgusted or sad at what you’ve done. And I don’t want to ever feel that way either.” Ever again.
Peter watched as Neal’s lower lip trembled, and his eyelids dropped. He wanted to gather him close, hold him, tell him everything would be all right, that it gets better. He wanted to make it better. His body went where his mind refused to go - and he took just a single step closer.
Neal’s eyes snapped opened, and he gave him a small, tiny smile.
“If you want me to do this - to go and have a life...you’ve got to give me something.”
“What?” And Peter thought, here be dragons.
“Kiss me - just a kiss.” Neal looked at Peter, blue eyes shining up from those ridiculously long eyelashes. “Give me something to hold on to - just a kiss.”
Peter knew he shouldn’t - that any sort of contact, no matter how gentle, how innocently intended - could blow up in his face.
Neal reached out, his fingertips brushing against his cheekbones.
“Neal, don’t. Please.”
“Just a kiss. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Peter couldn’t resist any longer. “A kiss - that’s all.”
Neal nodded, eyes huge and grave.
Peter stepped in close and cupped the back of Neal’s head, threading his fingers through those silky, dark locks, tilting him back.
Neal’s eyes fluttered closed, but his lips opened, and Peter imagined they’d be soft and sweet.
Peter leaned down, intending to give him a gentle salute - warm and loving, nothing more than affection and a promise. His resolve held until he tasted Neal, and until Neal tasted him.
Re: Teach Me - Part X
*is ded*
*runs around in circles*
I love this line - so clever, and so young: "Dunno... Yelling. Dumping this on you. Being a gay virgin."
And this one is so damn tender and Peter that I just can't even stand it: Peter was grateful until he took a sip – it was so sweet that he nearly gagged. But it was hot and Neal’s smile was … well. Not something he wanted to damage.
GAH! You rock.
Re: *is ded*
Re: Teach Me - Part XI
The hand that wasn’t holding on to Neal’s head had developed a mind of its own - and was gripping his waist, and sliding towards that sweet ass.
Neal’s hands were hot and smooth and surprisingly strong, sliding under his shirt, up his back, clawing at his shoulders. The blunt nails digging into his skin were a goad.
Yes, Neal’s lips were sweet, so was his tongue - at first tentative, then clever and wet and hot. Some detached part of his brain - the part that was still capable of coherent thought laughed at the young man’s attempts to take control of the kiss, and all of Peter’s dominant instincts kicked in.
Peter kissed Neal like he’d kiss another man in the prelude to sex, and Neal seemed to give as good as he got. And it wasn’t just a meeting of lips and tongues and teeth. Peter held him close - they were joined from thigh to shoulder and he suddenly didn’t care that Neal could feel his erection, because he could certainly feel Neal’s. It rode his thigh - not it, Neal - sliding up and down, thrusting against him, as hot and needy as his mouth.
It would be so easy to take him, to lay him down on the couch and strip him bare. It would be so easy to forget his rules and his personal morality and take what Neal was offering, to rut into that young, sweet body and keep him forever.
He tightened his grip on Neal’s head, his other had coming up and holding him tight. They danced around until he had Neal backed against a wall, a thigh between his legs and Neal was humping him in a rhythm syncopated with the thrusts of his tongue.
Peter pushed at Neal, ground him into the wall, his kiss harsh, greedy, without thought except for his own needs. But Neal wasn’t fighting him, he pushed back - instinctively seeking all the pleasure he could find. And find it he did, coming in a rush, scalding hot semen flowing out of his pants, painting a stain across Peter’s thigh.
Ironically, it was the heat and the wetness that broke through to Peter. He pulled away, appalled.
Neal leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. Panting.
“Neal...are you okay?” Peter was shaking, a combination of desire and fear.
He opened his eyes and smiled at Peter. And licked his lips. The look was pure temptation – wicked and still innocent.
“You know, Peter – if you didn’t want me to wait, you shouldn’t have kissed me like that.” Neal ran a hand down his body, stopping at his crotch. He rubbed lightly against the dark wetness.
Peter watched that hand the way a bird watched an approaching snake. He swallowed and looked back at Neal. How did he lose the upper hand here?
“Neal – I …”
The young man looked down at Peter’s groin, where his own erection was an obscene bulge against the soft material of his sweatpants.
“You enjoyed it too.”
“Damn it – Neal. Of course I did – way too much. I got carried away, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Neal was unintentionally echoing Peter’s question from their drive home, another lifetime.
“I’m sorry for taking advantage, for taking your innocence. For doing everything to you that I promised I wouldn’t.” He ran his hands through his hair, as if yanking on it would somehow deflate his dick.
“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want, and you didn’t take advantage.” He was all smiles and happiness. “You gave me something to dream about.” Neal’s voice was soft, almost as if he were talking to himself.
Somewhere in the house, a clock started to chime. It was ten o’clock – and Peter was reminded of the old and oft-quoted PSA “Do you know where your children are?”
“Neal – I’m going up to my room. I need to think – I need to …” I need to get rid of this erection, I need to think about how I am going to face you every day for the next four months, I need to understand how I am going to get through every day of the rest of my life without you.
Peter left the room, he didn't look back, but the image of Neal standing next to the fireplace – tall and straight and beautiful, with the dark stain spreading across his groin was something he'd never forget.
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.
Re: Teach Me - Part XII
You have taken a premise that is usually a squick for me, and made it totally awesome. I love the balance of impulse-driven action and maturity/foresight in both of them, and the way that they play off of each other. Hot and intense and ambiguous. Like Peter was dreaming - there are so many paths open before them!
I'M HOPING FOR THE PATH THAT LEADS TO MORE SEX.
♥
Re: Teach Me - Part XII
Yes. That. :-9
Re: Teach Me - Part XII
Re: Teach Me - COMPLETED AND POSTED TO MY JOURNAL
You can find it here, with a new name: Rubbing Elbows With the Moon (please teach me).
Re: Teach Me - Part XI
Underwear RUINED!
Re: Teach Me - Part VIII
Re: Teach Me - Part V
That's so good..... This story is, like, combination heart/crotch zingers!
Onward!!