Secrets Aren't Made Slowly

The Consequences of Carelessness

"John, John wait!" cried that familiar voice, and suddenly he heard the scuttling of feet behind him, the panicked breath of a man realizing what a predicament he was in now. John tried to accelerate and yet a hand pulled him back, right at the edge of the sidewalk so that they could hide together in the shadows, right out of the view of the general public, where certainly a shirtless teacher should not be talking to his student. He turned to see Mr. Holmes's perspired face in front of him, looking disheveled and slightly mad as he pulled John farther away from the light of the street lamps that lined the sidewalk. John winced away, for Mr. Holmes had only managed to pull his shirt up above his shoulders, and yet that didn't seem to be the man's issue, at least right now.
"Please, don't hurt me, I didn't mean to...I thought there was a fight, please I didn't know that it would be you." John whimpered, shying away from the man who was basically panting before him, trying desperately to do up the buttons on his shirt all while Victor watched from afar.
"John, you need to listen to me. You can't tell anyone, alright? I need you to promise, if you speak a word of this my career is over, my life is over...John I'm married, alright? I'm married and she can't find out, if the superintendent finds out I'm out of a job, if the student body finds out, everyone will know soon...John you have to promise me." Mr. Holmes whispered, looking about ready to get down on his knees and beg.
"I'm already trying to forget." John assured in a breath, wincing as Mr. Holmes's face lingered near his ever more, trying to look away as his long white fingers were breathlessly buttoning up his shirt, concealing his white chest with the tight purple fabric. There was something horrible wrenching in John's stomach, the feeling that now he had a secret, now he had something that he could potentially use to ruin this man's life. And yet what could he do now? Surely he wouldn't tell anyone, how could he?
"Please John, promise me, promise me!" Mr. Holmes insisted, suddenly grabbing at John's shoulder, to which the boy winced once more and scuttled away. He could almost hear Victor laughing from afar, as if this showdown was something that greatly amused the one who had seemingly arranged it all.
"I promise, I promise! Please don't come near me...please!" John begged, ducking away once more from his seemingly paranoid teacher, a man whose beauty had been worn away completely by his momentary insanity.
"Thank you, thank you John thank you so much. Please, please don't breathe a word!" Mr. Holmes called, suddenly losing all strength and stumbling into the wall, leaning up against a foul smelling dumpster and looking an absolute mess, running his hands through his dark curls, shivering as if there was a chill, his shirt done up wrong so that one end hung considerably lower than the other... John couldn't do anything now, he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to promise, he didn't want to see that man and remind himself once more that what he had just seen had been reality and not just some horrible dream he had conjured up in his paranoia. And so he just ran, he ran to his car, unlocked it in a frenzy, and backed up into the road as fast as he could, turning on his headlights and zipping down the road, far away from Victor and Mr. Holmes, the pair he should never have seen, the love he should never have witnessed...oh to see someone that vulnerable, so weak! And to think that he was supposed to respect his teachers, he was supposed to sit attentively in Mr. Holmes's class now, he was supposed to watch him at the chalkboard knowing full well that he had heard him gasping and clawing at Victor's cheeks, oh he had seen him shirtless and watched as that man kissed him passionately...how could he do it? How could he stand it? It was something so human from a man who seemed to be nothing more than a machine, someone so powerful now so weak after a simple occurrence. John held that man's very life in his hands, his reputation, his career, his marriage; this was not a power John was yet prepared to have! He couldn't hate someone whose very existence was in a simple misunderstanding, he couldn't loath the man now after he had basically fallen to his knees and begged for mercy. Every time he blinked he saw the pair, every time he blinked he saw the white skin, he felt that hand on his shoulder, he saw Mr. Holmes's brilliant eyes leaking, pleading. How could he stand it, how could he tolerate it? He wasn't supposed to have witnessed this, no one was... oh what was he going to do now?