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He was the coolest teacher Brendon had ever met. His eyes were almost always hidden behind a dark pair of shades, but when they were exposed, they shone a beautiful chocolaty brown, with caramel swirls and glints of light massaged into them. His teeth were perfect; sharp and beaming, the way Brendon imagined a vampire dentist’s would be. Brendon seated himself as close to the teacher’s desk as possible and actually started to feel grateful for the troubled day he’d had. Maybe today was God’s apology for all the shit that he’d put Brendon through the past few weeks.

“Here’s the deal.” The teacher began. “I’m Mr. Ross. I’m telling you this in case you need me, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d just keep your mouth shut. This is detention- it isn’t meant to be fun. The longer you keep your motor runnin’, the longer you’ll sit here with me and trust me, if we have to sit here ‘till your first class Monday morning, we will.”

Mr. Ross sat down on a chair behind his desk and sighed happily as it reclined ever so slightly. Brendon watched, mesmerized as the teacher spun from side to side casually on the chair; head thrown back and hands behind his neck. He had a much larger Adam’s apple than Brendon did- probably because he was a good five years older- and his collar bones protruded a fair amount. The shirt he was wearing was smart, but not buttoned all the way and he wasn’t wearing a tie. Brendon stared so intently at him that his mouth began to water. How could one man be so intriguing? Heat began to find its way into Brendon and he started to blush as he watched the teacher relax. He continued to sway on the chair and after a while, he bit onto his lip; dragging the flesh of his bottom lip upward until it fell from under his teeth and ripened in color again. Brendon’s mouth dropped open briefly when Mr. Ross did this, so unaware of his being objectified.

“Psst!” Someone whispered from behind Brendon and he reluctantly popped his eyes back into his skull and closed his mouth to turn around and face the source of the noise. He held onto the desk in front of him and inhaled deeply as the source of the noise pretended not to exist. After a moment, Brendon turned around to see the teacher again. The noise repeated itself and Brendon swung around bemused.

“What?” He hissed back, to whom, he had no idea.

“Five minutes extra.” Mr. Ross told Brendon plainly, pointing at him, but not yet looking away from the ceiling.

“But Sir!” Brendon started, not quite sure where he wanted to take the whining protest.

“Ten minutes.” Mr. Ross stated.

Brendon huffed and folding his arms across his chest. After a few minutes of moping with his tongue in his cheek and his eyes narrowed at the desk in front of him, Brendon began to watch the teacher again, as he began to peal an orange. Brendon stared at his hands- his fingers to be exact, his long, clean fingers and his incredibly short nails as they dug around at orange peel. The room filled with the sweet scent or oranges and the silence was penetrated by the sound of Mr. Ross chewing on a segment of orange.

The group were dismissed an hour after they’d arrived. Except Brendon; who had an extra ten minutes silence to endure. The last child out of detention slammed the door shut and Mr. Ross muttered something under his breath. Brendon continued to watch, hypnotized by Mr. Ross’ every move.

“What did you do?” He asked Brendon, catching him off guard. Brendon felt that heat come over him again and his intestines decided it would be fun to tie themselves together.

“Got punched in the guts.” Brendon remarked back, still a little bitter about the no talking rule.

“Why?”

Brendon thought for a minute. He could tell the truth, or he could lie and make himself seem like a tougher, more chiseled guy than he was. On second thought, it was probably obvious from his posture and complete lack of dominance that he was a feeble member of the school community.

“I’m gay.” He replied softly, pressing his chin into his palm and resting his elbow against the desk. His eyes averted the gaze of the teacher’s; staring anywhere but his thick, luscious hair or the rise that he’d tried not to look at, in the teacher pants.

“So?” The teacher asked, sounding offended and Brendon shrugged. He didn’t know why he was gay, or why that made him any less decent than the rest of the adolescents in the school, but he’d had it beaten into him that he was inferior so many times that he just accepted it. The teacher’s eyes darted to the door and then back to Brendon, before the shades were removed and he rose from his throne. He pulled up a chair, next to Brendon’s and wriggled on it; trying to find a way of sitting that would be comfortable, but finding none. He crossed one leg over the other and Brendon couldn’t help but look down at the seam running from the button of Mr. Ross’ pants.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Ross asked, his tone changing completely; no longer dry, no longer apathetic, suddenly gentle and caring. “Are people getting to you?”

Brendon nodded. Of course they were bothering him. Mr. Ross explained that if he ever needed to talk, he could come to him.

“It’s Ryan, by the way. Better to keep it informal when it’s personal matters I think.” He concluded, then dismissed Brendon by waving his hand in the direction of the door. Brendon remained in his chair though and asked why Ryan was offering to help him. His eyes flickered up and down Ryan’s front, eventually landing on Ryan’s mouth and watching it curve and bend as he spoke.

“I’ve been there.” He explained, smiling and clasping a hand on Brendon’s knee.

“Ryan?” Brendon began, a higher infliction in his voice than he’d intended, but one that masked his nervousness enough to stop him from blushing more. He leaned in a little closer to Ryan and felt his heart face with anticipation. Blood began pumping a hundred times a minute and his arms felt as if they would drop off at any moment. The air was thick; so thick Brendon was sure a knife could cut into pieces. He could sink back into his chair now, or he could lean in further and find rejection in those beautiful dark eyes of Ryan’s. As he weighed out the positives and negatives of each choice, Ryan bit into his bottom lip again. Brendon watched the lip whiten and then grow pink again as it was released.

Suddenly, without any warning other than that of the second before they clashed, Ryan leaded in to kiss Brendon. His lips were soft and moist and felt like they’d been smothered with Chap Stick fairly recently. He squeezed Brendon’s knee tight and his tongue lapped at Brendon’s mouth coarsely. He tasted like oranges.

As suddenly as it had happened, it had stopped and Brendon’s eyebrows sunk in confusion and arousal and disappointment. Ryan jumped to his feet and swore. He cupped his mouth with both hands and swore again.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered as he moved his hand from his mouth to the pile of work on his desk. Brendon shook his head and got to his feet, smiling.

“Me too.” He said, before grabbing Ryan’s hip and yanking it forward so their fronts met. Ryan grabbed hold of Brendon’s neck passionately and kissed into him, forceful and hard and delicious. He pressed into Brendon and Brendon exhaled a loud, staggered, hot breath. That was permission enough for Ryan. His arms fell to Brendon’s sides and his hands dug into Brendon’s waist. His fingers pressed into Brendon’s flesh as hard as they could, before Brendon was lifted and almost thrown onto his back. The papers on the desk fell from under Brendon’s legs and Ryan tipped over to find Brendon’s lips again. Their bodies crashed together and hit each other gracelessly as moans and stutters started to fill the room.

Ryan tugged at Brendon’s collar and his fingers launched into unbuttoning the shirt. Their mouths made a sloppy popping noise as they broke apart, but Ryan’s lips were soon on Brendon again, gnawing at his breast until he was sure he could taste copper.

“Oh God,” Brendon whined, his hands roaming down Ryan’s back and exploring his spine. Ryan’s hands dragged Brendon’s shirt off him and it crumpled beneath his moist back. Ryan’s hand plunged into Brendon’s jeans and Brendon wriggled out of them as best he could. They fell to his knees and Ryan rocked his hand ruggedly.

“Mm, you okay?” He shook and Brendon nodded, his eyelids struggling to stay open. Brendon opened his mouth and jutted his head up, to find Ryan’s mouth and attack it with his own again, but he misjudged the attempt and his teeth bit into Ryan’s bottom lip harshly. It pulled his lip out and down and Ryan groaned happily; tightening his grip on Brendon.

Then, as timing would have it, the telephone in the classroom belted out a high pitch ringing sound. Constant and disruptive and anything but ignorable. Ryan did his best to focus on Brendon; dripping wet from sweat and starting to spasm from pleasure, but the phone persisted, so he was forced to stop. Brendon panted and gasped for air, while Ryan growled at the person on the other end of the phone.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He spat out, genuinely annoyed that he was being pried away from Brendon’s almost naked body. “You have to leave now.” He sighed , after the phone call was over and the receiver had slammed down hard on the base unit. Brendon nodded, but his teeth were clenched. Before he left, Ryan caught his arm and his fingers traced down his sleeve until it reached his hand.

“Don’t forget this.” Ryan begged and Brendon nodded, squeezing Ryan’s hand before he walked through the door.