Short Stories [Man on Man]

The Teacher [1]

Austin looked down at his notebook, then at the pen in his hand, trying his hardest to concentrate on the lecture. Like usual, it was tough. He'd never been good with any of the sciences. The inner workings of a cell had never interested him. It wasn't concrete. He couldn't see cellular respiration doing its thing, couldn't see little viruses and bacteria without the help of a microscope. Proteins were made of amino acids, but amino acids were made of smaller things, which were made of even smaller things; and that just made his head ache.

But that wasn't the only reason he couldn't concentrate.

The main reason was standing in front of class. It was Mr. McCallum. Basically, the stuff Austin's wet dreams were made of. Long, muscled arms pointed at the board. That usual, excited grin was plastered on his tan face, teeth bight and white, soft lips capturing his attention. Sky-blue eyes looked at every one in the class. Paired with his short, black hair, Mr. McCallum sure was a looker.

His voice was so deep – so enticing – that Austin was ready to blow at the words “endoplasmic reticulum.” His voice was that fucking good. And Austin couldn't get enough of it. It just sucked that he couldn't multi-task and take notes at the same time as fantasizing about his Bio teacher.

Mr. McCallum turned around, and Austin just stared. The older man's ass fit those dress pants perfectly, the round globes begging to be cupped in big hands. His hands. Austin ducked his head, feeling his body go warm and his dick begin to harden.

Bio was a sweet, long torture.

He looked down at his notebook again and frowned. There was so much blank space. They were only a few weeks away from being done with school – a few weeks away before graduating – and he literally only had about ten and a half pages of words that made absolutely no sense to him.

The bell rang, signalling the end of fifth period. He flipped his binder closed, quickly putting away all his stuff. Mr. McCallum may dominate his thoughts all hours of the day, but his stomach had been grumbling all day, and he was starving.

“Oh, and there'll be a quiz tomorrow. Make sure you study,” Mr. McCallum said as they began to file out.

Once again, a sweet torture. There was that voice but then the terrible news it delivered. Another quiz was just what he did not need. The best he'd gotten on one of Mr. McCallum's infamous quizzes was a C. All the worksheets and extra credit he'd been doing were keeping him at a solid B, but another failed quiz along with all the tests he was failing, would drop him back down and ruin his GPA.

“Fuckin' A,” Peter, one of his closest friends, said beside him, scowling at the math textbook on the table. “Surprise test tomorrow. Great. Just great.”

Austin smiled. Math he could do. It wasn't abstract. It made sense. Numbers were numbers. They were their own thing. He loved numbers.

“Give it to me.” He brought it closer and looked at the problem. In no time at all, he had pushed Peter enough to get it done. “Ready for tonight?”

They had a game this Friday, against their rival school Mounch High. They'd be doing a lot of agility and strength training at practice. As one of the pitchers, he especially needed to stay in shape, keep as much muscle mass maintained and built up as possible.

Which was why he ate four ham and mustard sandwiches for lunch and brought food to almost every class. Protein bar first period. Pretzels second. Peanuts third period. Dried fruit for fourth. Whatever he had left in his backpack was for the rest of his classes. But never anything during fifth period, during Biology. Students weren't allowed to eat in class, and while he almost never got caught, he had too much respect for Mr. McCallum.