Yes, Sir

Chapter 1: Another Year

To say I disliked college would be a bit of an understatement. The reasons for this were plentiful, but it was mostly to do with the fact I'd been stupid, and picked the college on academic performance, rather than where my friends went. In theory, this is a good move; but now I was stuck in a place where I knew nobody, and therefore had no motivation to come and attend, or do well.
Facebook and Twitter were now the only ways I could regularly communicate with my friends. I was talking to them almost 24/7, ignoring lessons and valuable exam-preparations to talk football with the boys. Again, this may sound dumb to you, but I'm a sociable guy. I needed those chats. To go from spending 5 years of your life with the same four people to rarely ever seeing them is tough. Anyway, as we were talking one day, the day before 2nd year was due to start, I received a message from Brad. He told me that his old History teacher had left his college and was due to start at mine, with a couple of scared-face emojis for good measure.
'Is that good or bad?' I replied, expecting it to be the latter. 'Bad.' Came the reply. I was right.
Brad continued. 'Jordan Bailey you call him. Absolute asshat. Made me stay behind for three hours one day because I forgot to turn my phone off and I got a text.' This didn't sound promising.
'That's all I need,' I sarcastically typed back. It was safe to say this conversation did nothing to get me excited for college. As I said my goodbyes and headed for bed, I received one last message from Brad. 'Good luck David mate,' it read, 'You'll need it.' Gulp.

Getting ready the next morning was tough, after spending the whole holidays not rising before 12. I had a quick shower, pulled on some clothes, and off I went to catch the bus. As I sat with my earphones in, the thought of this new teacher was dominating my mind, and definitely not in a good way. The worst part was, he was seemingly replacing the only teacher I actually liked. The history teacher last year was Phil, a guy not that much older than me, who gave us more lessons off than anyone else. He was also very good-looking, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I perved over him a few times. Well, not ashamed to admit it here, anyway. No one knew I liked guys, and I was planning on keeping it that way for the foreseeable. Anything that could make college harder than it already was was off limits.

As I arrived back at college, I heaved a depressed sigh and went to reception to pick up my new timetable. It was all pretty standard stuff, until I looked at today's lessons and realised I had history last. Nothing I could do about that though, apart from simply grit my teeth and bare it. The first two lessons passed me by, followed by a quick lunch by myself, before it was time for history. Shit.

I walked in through the classroom door, to see all my classmates already in, and sat down.
"And you are?" A voice bellowed from the front of the room. I looked over, and was greeted by the sight of my new teacher. Or at least I presumed it was. He was looking at me apathetically, and I decided it would probably be best to answer.
"Sorry I'm late, I-"
"Make sure it doesn't happen again. As I was saying to your classmates, I'm your new history teacher. Jordan Bailey is my name, but you'll refer to me as Sir. Got that?"
"Yeah.." I answered, not averting my stare from him. "Uhh, Yes Sir."
"Good." He boomed. "Now sit down and shut up."
Good start to the year then, utterly humiliated in front of my class mates. I took my seat in the class, but atill found myself unable to look away from him. Simply put, he was fucking amazing. He look to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and was wearing a white button shirt and jeans. The shirt was tight, and you could see his pecs and nipples bulging at the material. The guy obviously worked out. There was a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck, seemingly some sort of tribal design, and some of it covered by the design stubble all over his jaw and chin. His face was rugged yet handsome, a face you'd more associate with a builder than a teacher, yet I was encapsulated by it. He was tanned too, and it was all topped off by the crew cut, perfect for the shape of his head. I spent the lesson with my head resting on my hands, staring at him. He was amazing. Shame he didn't seem to think the same of me.
"Young man?" He called out, apparently aimed at me. This didn't register at the time. "Hello?" He tried again.
I snapped out of my trance as he began walking towards me, until he was stood directly in front.
"Where's your notes?" He bellowed.
"Sorry Sir, I-"
"No excuses." He interrupted again. "Stay back after class. This is not how you make a first impression."
I was genuinely scared. Brad was right, he was an asshat, but a fucking gorgeous one. And now I was sat, dreading what was coming after class...