To Cast Turpentine Kisses (A Frerard Student/Teacher)

Chapter 4

The next day at school Frank just can't take it anymore, okay. He knows Mr. Way wants him. He knows. Aside from what happened in the car yesterday, there's been all of these little moments, and the other day Mr. Way was helping him with a project and he leaned over him and had one hand on Frank's hand to show him how to move the pencil and the other on his back, and Frank could FEEL the way he barely pressed in with the tips of his fingers, how he stayed like that a little longer than any other teacher would have. It's all just driving Frank crazy. He can't stand it. He can't even really get off properly anymore. I mean, it's still good, but he doesn't feel satisfied anymore afterwards and it's not helping him sleep.

So they go into class and it's apparently going to be an art lecture day, as Gerard is still in his usual waistcoat and tie combo, and the desks are all moved around so it looks more like a traditional classroom, and Frank grabs a seat right in the middle of the back row while most everyone sits near the front. He shifts the desk a little, though, so instead of being in the row he's more into the aisle, so he's still in eye line of Gerard at the front of the room. And Gerard starts talking about something or other, some post-modern art movement, and Frank just watches his mouth and idly starts running his fingers over his dick through the fabric of his pants. He thinks about that mouth wrapped around his dick and Gerard on his knees with his fingers digging into his thighs, maybe with Frank in this very same desk, and he's not even listening at all and before he knows it he's almost half-hard in the back of the classroom.

And then Gerard's voice stumbles and Frank snaps back to it and looks up and Gerard's staring at him, face flushed, and then keeps talking. Frank can't stop now, though. He's got him. He knows it. And so he slouches deeper into the chair and opens his legs a little wider and starts rubbing more noticeably, not taking his eyes off of Gerard the entire time, except for a few times when he catches Gerard's eyes and then closes his own eyes and arches his neck back a little. God, when did this become his life? He can't help it, though, he feels like he's on this track and he knows it's wrong but he doesn't even care anymore.

He's lucky art is his last class of the day because he's not gonna be able to get up and leave without the world seeing his boner, or until he gets off, and if it's going to be the latter, he'd really like to try and convince Mr. Way to be a part of it. What actually happens is that Gerard shoves as much as he can off his desk into his messenger bag, grabs his leather jacket off the back of his chair and high tails it out of the room as fast as he can when the bell rings. Frank's disappointed, of course, but in his mind, Mr. Way had to rush off like that because he was so turned on by what Frank was doing he needed to get somewhere and take care of it. Frank waits long enough that he's pretty sure no one should be in the hall, then he books it across and into the boys' bathroom. He's rounding the little partition just inside the door and smacks into someone. He looks up and it's Mr. Way, and his face is kind of flushed and his temples are a little sweaty, and Frank just knows... just KNOWS that he was right. He knows Gerard was just in here, getting off. Because of Frank.

He pushes his hands against Mr. Way's chest and walks him further back into the bathroom. He presses Mr. Way against the wall, trapping him with his body. He knows Gerard can feel his dick, hard against Gerard's thigh. Frank looks up at him and bites his lower lip, and he can see Gerard swallow as he darts his eyes nervously from Frank's face to the door and then back to Frank's face. "Frank," he says, sounding scared, "Frank, we... I... can't." Frank really looks at his face and Mr. Way doesn't just sound scared, he looks scared too, but also turned on. Frank wants this, but he knows he needs to be smart about it and not push too hard, or it'll never happen.

"Okay, you don't have to do anything. Just watch." Frank sees Mr. Way's eyes go wide at that, and he steps back into the open stall, but doesn't shut the door. He drops his bag on the floor and rubs a hand over his dick, palming it through the fabric of his slacks. Mr. Way's eyes go impossibly wider, but he doesn't move. Frank takes that as a good sign. He slowly undoes his belt, then the button and zip of his school pants. Mr. Way licks his lips. Frank reaches in his underwear and pulls out his dick, still mostly hard from earlier in the classroom. He begins to stroke himself, slowly, watching Gerard watching him. Gerard licks his lips and swallows again, darting another nervous glance at the door, but his eyes quickly return to Frank. Frank knows that they could totally get caught right now. Anyone could walk in and see him, see Mr. Way watching him. It turns him on even more and he starts to speed up his strokes, thrusting a little into his hand. Mr. Way has stopped glancing over at the door now, his attention totally focused on what Frank is doing. He keeps clenching his hands into fists, like he needs to keep physically reminding himself to not reach forward across the two feet of space between them and touch. Frank's getting close, and he focuses on how Mr. Way's eyes are kind of glazed over, and the way he's pulled his bottom lip in with his teeth. Frank's hips stutter and he gasps out, "Mr. Way" as he comes. He closed his eyes when he was coming, and when he opens them again, Mr. Way is still there, looking right at him. Frank pants a little and smiles at him, dazed. It's the best orgasm he's had in weeks.

Suddenly it's like Mr. Way remembers where they are, who he is, who Frank is, and he darts out of the bathroom. Frank sighs and puts himself back together, goes over to the sink and washes his hands. He looks for Mr. Way in his classroom before he leaves, but he knows he's not going to be in there, and he's not. Frank sighs and walks out to the parking lot, gets in his car and goes home.