High School Never Ends

“So the copper ions have a positive charge and are therefore attracted to the...?” Spencer trailed of in question, eying the blank faces of his class. “Anyone? No? Seriously, guys, do none of you care about chemistry?” A few shook their heads and others shrugged. “Fine! Do what you want, I don’t care if you pass or not.” Spencer reached into his desk, finding his Nintendo DS and turned his chair to the wall and began to play Cooking Mama, muttering something about them being ‘little shits’.

His words sparked a keening crescendo of noise, reaching a screaming blare to his ears before he slammed his palm down on the table, shouting: “Shut up!” and returned to his game, grinning when he managed to cook some shrimps on time.

The noise stayed low after that, but not so low that Spencer heard Jon come in the door. He wasn’t expecting the tap on his shoulder so screamed when he felt it, dropping his DS on the floor. Whipping around to see the grinning man and a class of giggling fourteen year olds, Spencer was not amused.

“I was winning, J,” he stated, narrowing his eyes. ”Get back to work!”

At that, all the kids bowed their heads despite that they had been given no work.

“So,” Spencer began, leaning back on his chair. “Can I help you, Mr. Walker?”

“Yes.” Jon sat on the desk, smiling down at Spencer, then lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “Come to mine tonight. I’ll make dinner.”

Spencer smiled, “Sure, I’d like that.” They smiled at each other for a long time, lost in each other’s intent gaze. Jon licked his thumb, other hand curving around Spencer’s shoulder.

“Here, you got a little something.’” He reached the thumb towards Spencer, rubbing his nose with it.

“Thanks,” Spencer grinned, touching Jon’s hand.

It was then that both men turned their attention to the class, who all seemed to be staring at the moment between the two, mouth twisted smirks. Jon jumped up from the desk, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well,” he began. “Thank you for the help, Mr. Smith.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Spencer stated, flicking some dust from his school trousers. Jon left quickly, but halted at the doorway, out of sight of the pupils and mouthed ’seven thirty’ before leaving.

”Fags.” It was a mere mutter but Spencer leapt to his feet.

“Who said that? Huh? I will send you to Mr. Armstrong, I swear I will.”

No one replied and Spencer let it slip, returning to his game until the bell rang and he ran from the room before dismissing the class. Running down the corridor to lunch, he passed by Mr. Toro, offering him a nod as he passed.

Ray continued walking down the hall, spotting the blond hair bobbing towards him; followed a few inches lower by black hair with striking flashes of white.

“Mr. Toro!” Bob called, halting the man. “I uh, I need help with my...fingering.” Behind Bob, Frank grinned, giggling.

“Yeah? I’m happy to help. I’ll be here till six, so head along after sixth period, I’ll help you then.” He smiled at the boy, looking forward to the time he would spend with his thick arms framed around him. To help him learn, of course. He had no ulterior motives, none whatsoever.

Bob nodded and Ray managed to touch his arm in a friendly manner before disappearing off to the teacher’s lounge.

Four o’clock came quickly and Bob wasted no time in grabbing his guitar case and rushing over to the classroom. The knock startled Ray from where he was running his fingers through his hair, trying to make it less flat.

“Hey Mr. Toro.” The face appeared from behind the door, grinning and Ray smiled back, genuinely happy to see the boy.

“Bob! Take a seat.”

Following the instructions, Ray watched his form sway a little too emphatically to be natural as he sat himself down, bringing out his guitar. “Show me what you’ve been working on.”

Bob settled his hands, beginning to play an arrangement of chords. Some were right, some failed miserably, but he was getting better. He liked the teacher far too much to fail at what he was doing and pushed his pink tongue out of the corner of his mouth in utter concentration, unknowing of the affect this would have on the teacher.

Ray watched him; leaning back on his chair with his legs splayed carelessly, and loved the complete determination to get it right. Soon enough, he closed the distance between them stalking behind Bob to loop his arms around him, placing his long fingers over Bob’s.

“You’re doing good, just try this.” He changed the position of bob’s fingers, grazing the boys knuckles as he retracted his hand slowly.

It was only ten minutes later that bob had almost mastered the progression, the teacher grinning proud, still behind him with a hand on the boys shoulder instead of around his waist. For the last few seconds of the song, Ray returned to behind bob, helping him to strum the correct pattern before finishing.

“That was fantastic,” Ray grinned, and bob mirrored the motion.

“Thanks for helping me, Sir.” He turned his head to smile at the teacher, showing his pleasure at getting it right. Only he found the teacher’s face to be much closer than he expected, wide lips stretched over perfect teeth mere millimetres from his face.

He closed the distance without thinking; pressing his lips to the teachers, and Ray didn’t complain at all, tightening his arms around the boy and pulling him closer.

They remained, breathing heavily with open mouths and fingers searching for the other’s warm neck. Continuing, until the door burst open, Corey the Janitor’s face appearing from behind the door.

Both were startled, the guitar toppling out of Bob’s hands and clattering to the floor. Ray scrunched up his face angrily, slapping the back of Bob’s head before dropping to his knees to stroke the guitar.

“Heeeey guys! Watcha’ been doin’?” Corey grinned, rubbing his crotch for no real reason.

“Nothing!” Ray screeched, “Shouldn’t you be cleaning something?”

“You guys were kiiiiiising.” Corey laughed.

“We were not!”

Corey glared, scuttling towards Ray. “I don’t like liars, John,” he hissed, spitting in Ray’s hair.

Ray screamed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hair with.

“My name is Ray!”

“Oh. Oh well. I dislike you, John.” Corey disappeared from the room and returned with a broom, smacking Ray’s head with it.

“I’LL BE WATCHING!” he backed out of the room, then sprinted down the corridor.

Bob shrugged and pulled on Ray’s hand, kissing him again.