by Dan Wingreen
Nothing more was said, so Spencer closed his eyes.
*
See though, the thing was, Spencer had never actually tried sleeping with someone before, since he always left Sebastian’s dorm, afterward, and went back to his own. He’d read a few romance novels though, both classics from bygone years and more modern fare, and he’d seen his share of romantic movies, so he had some idea of what it would be like.
Turns out, movies and romance novels were full of shit.
Falling asleep with someone else was uncomfortable and weird. They moved and shifted, snored and stole the covers, and it took him about three minutes to realize falling asleep on Tim’s chest was never going to happen. Chests were hard and they moved and were all around a terrible substitute for a real pillow. As great—no, fuck that, as utterly transcendent as it was to be made love to by Tim, Spencer’s first time sleeping with someone was a bit of a letdown.
But that was okay. Because morning sex?
Totally lived up to the hype.
Chapter Sixteen
Tim smiled at the office secretary as she passed over the visitor’s badge, politely ignoring the pink tint to her cheeks as their fingers brushed together. He slipped the badge around his neck, gave her a wave, and slipped out of the office and into the halls of Laurence Tureaud High, unable to keep his smile from growing at the idea of walking through Spencer’s school. Ridiculous? Maybe. But Tim would be lying if he said this was the stupidest thing he’d caught himself mooning about in the weeks since Thanksgiving, and he refused to be embarrassed.
I’m stupidly in love with someone who loves me back; what’s there to be embarrassed about?
Okay, the morning after Thanksgiving when a bleary-eyed Connor walked into the kitchen to find Tim sipping coffee and wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night before was pretty high up on the awkward scale. Less so than when, two seconds later, Tim’s sleepy brain thought it would be a good idea for him to attempt to stumble his way through the sex talk and the “I’m in love with your dad” talk at the same time. Thankfully, he’d barely gotten to “when two people love each other very much” before Spencer smoothly cut in and asked Connor what he wanted for breakfast and, oh yeah, if he heard any weird noises the night before he should probably say something now and get a new pair of noise-canceling headphones out of the deal because those kinds of sounds probably weren’t going to be stopping any time soon. It was a rare moment when Spencer was the only person in a room not blushing or avoiding eye contact, and after the awkwardness faded, it became one of the many things Tim couldn’t stop smiling over when he thought back on it.
He also loved that adding sex to their relationship hadn’t changed anything. Sure, there was a new awareness, a sense of simmering possibility that buzzed between them whenever they spent time together. Whatever they were doing could lead to sex, and sometimes did, but they could still do things together and have them be more than just a prelude to getting their pants off. Being with Spencer was so different to any of Tim’s previous relationships, and though he’d never say it out loud, he thanked God Spencer was old enough not to be ruled by hormones.
A short, pudgy girl crashing into him with a squeak and a softly muttered “s-sorry” before running away brought him back to the present. Not that being knocked out of his thoughts did anything to dull the soft, squishy feeling in his heart. Walking through the place where Spencer spent so much of his time, a place he’d dedicated years of his life, both in studying to get here and working to be able to stay, was fascinating. Aside from the undercuts and the manbuns many of the students were sporting, Tim could have been back in his old high school with how similar everything was, but he still took it all in with a sense of awe. These weren’t just students; these were students Spencer taught. Those weren’t just lockers; they were lockers Spencer passed every day. The appreciative glances Tim caught from a lot of the girls and a few of the boys should have made him feel uncomfortable—and, to be fair, they kind of did. He’d been in bed with people who hadn’t eye-fucked him so shamelessly; when did teenagers get so…forward?—but he was too busy wondering how many similar looks Spencer had gotten over the years, how many silent crushes had sprung to life over his youthful features and sharp glances and disarming smiles—
Tim snorted and shook his head. If he’d ever doubted how utterly infatuated he was…
It was kind of crazy though, this whole thing, the way he’d been acting. He wasn’t new to the L word. He’d said it before, when he was younger and thought every new relationship was It; he’d even felt it with Rudy, in the beginning, before everything fell apart. A small part of him worried the same thing might happen with Spencer, that he’d fallen too fast and the only way this could end was in disaster.
Tim really liked telling that part to go to hell, because his relationship with Spencer was different.
They might have only been together just under a month before they said the words, but before they’d ever broached the possibility of a relationship, they’d known each other for two and a half. First as hostile strangers, then as stories told by someone else, and finally as friends before trying for more. It had been a fast progression, maybe, but it was natural, and so different from anything he’d ever had. With Rudy, the feelings came fast and they blinded him to things he should have seen much sooner. With Spencer, he got hit with the flaws first, and only later found the diamond in the rough.
Tim made his way through the halls, dodging teens rushing to and from their lockers and stepping over the occasional dropped book or spilled backpack. It was barely noon, but they were already packing up to go home, laughing and sharing in the general giddiness that came with getting out of school early. A surge of sudden, unexpected nostalgia welled inside him. Tim had always loved half days. Both his parents worked, but his mom always made a point to get home within an hour or two after he normally got home from school, so half days were the only time he had the house to himself for an extended period. He missed that feeling, the sense of freedom and possibility unique to being a teenager and knowing you were alone for at least the next five hours. As crappy as high school could be, some days he’d kill to go back to a time when his biggest worries were about getting his homework done, or finding a boy to make out with, or hiding his report card from his mom.
He shook himself out of his thoughts with a laugh. I sound way too much like Dad on one of his “good old days” tangents right now. I’d better find Spencer’s classroom before I start complaining about the economy or how City Hall is bleeding us dry.
It took a few minutes, but he eventually found the right room and, judging by the voices inside, he wasn’t too late. Connor might have a half day because of a teacher’s conference in the afternoon, but Spencer didn’t, which was why Tim was here to pick up Connor. They had a whole day of fast food and binge-watching Stranger Things planned out—something Tim had really been looking forward to. Tim had half expected not to see his boyfriend at all until much later when the conference let out, but one of the voices was his. The other one came from an unfamiliar woman, and Tim hesitated just outside the closed door and listened. If Spencer was in there with another teacher or a parent, the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt. Especially since he was self-aware enough to realize the chances of him not barging in and pulling Spencer into a kiss or doing something equally satisfying and completely inappropriate for school were pretty low right then.
The last thing he expected to hear was an argument.
Or, really, the tail end of one, because he’d barely begun to try to make out what they were shouting at each other before the door was yanked open and an irate woman stalked out. It was only Tim’s surprised jump back that kept her from running right into him. Instead, she pulled up in surprise, her eyes widening slightly before giving him a quick once over. She seemed youngish, maybe a little older than Spencer, and tall for a woman, almost as tall as Tim, with straight brown hair pulled into an elaborate updo and a face more handsome
than pretty, with sharp features seeming to toe the line between striking and off-putting. Although, part of that could have been the way her lips were still partly twisted into a sneer. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a blouse unbuttoned just enough to suggest that modesty was something she might have heard about in passing at one point, but never bothered to ask for clarification on. She also seemed oddly familiar.
“Tim?” Spencer asked.
“Hi,” Tim said, giving a small, uncertain wave.
The woman studied Tim with a raised eyebrow.
“Who are you?” she asked. There was a sharpness to her question she didn’t bother trying to soften. Tim was taken aback by the unnecessary hostility.
“Um. I’m—”
“He’s none of your business,” Spencer cut in, glaring at the woman.
Two bright spots of angry color flared to life on her cheeks as she pressed her lips together so hard, they turned white. Tim couldn’t quite help the uncharitable thought that her expression pushed her face firmly over the line into “incredibly off-putting.” Instead of the blowup he half expected, though, she made a visible effort to control her reaction. After a moment, she turned away from Spencer and glanced Tim over again. Then turned back to Spencer. Then back to Tim.
It didn’t take her long to conclude who Tim was to Spencer.
“Oh.” She scoffed. “Typical.”
Spencer narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” the woman said, the sharp bite in her voice making it obvious she was lying. “I just think it’s great that people treat me like I’m diseased but have no problem with people like you teaching children.”
Indignation flared up in Tim’s chest. “Hey—” he started but was quickly cut off by Spencer.
“Please finish that thought,” he said quietly. “I’m begging you, say something homophobic. I’m dying to see how many strikes you have left.”
The woman pressed her lips together again. “They never should have let men become teachers,” she said after a long moment.
“Ah, a safe prejudice,” Spencer said, his voice soft and laced with disgust. “What a coward.”
Without another word, the woman pushed past Tim and stalked off down the hall. When she rounded the nearest corner, Spencer let out a long, heavy breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Come on in.” Spencer’s tired smile as he ushered Tim inside the room didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Kid’s not here yet.”
Tim walked in and Spencer closed the door. Despite his confusion, Tim couldn’t help smiling at the small Darth Vader bobblehead sitting on Spencer’s desk, or the posters on the walls with quotes from The Phoenix on the Sword, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, Call of Cthulhu, and a few other books or stories Tim knew Spencer loved but, for various reasons, wasn’t allowed to teach. Much like the posters and figures strewn throughout his house, there wasn’t really any rhyme or reason or attempt to organize anything. Instead, it seemed like Spencer’s interests had exploded out of him one day and stuck to the walls.
Tim loved it.
Spencer leaned against his desk with a sigh and tugged the collar of his sweater—an olive-green pullover at least one size too big—away from his neck and rubbed his stubbly face. When his arms fell back to his sides, the sleeves covered half his hands.
“God, what a fucking day,” Spencer said.
“Is everything okay?” Tim asked. He rested his hip on the desk next to Spencer and angled his body to face his boyfriend. “Who was that woman? She seemed…”
“Like a pissy drama queen?”
Tim snorted. “Something like that.”
“That,” Spencer said, “was Steph McConnell.”
Where have I heard that name before…?
“The other teacher who might get your room?”
Spencer smirked. “Well, not anymore…”
“Oh yeah?” Tim asked. “What happened?”
“Corbin officially offered it to me today,” he said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
Tim grinned. “Really?”
“Yep. You’re looking at the brand-new owner of the legendary room 210.”
“Oh my God!” Tim pulled him into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
Spencer hugged him back. “It’s just a room…” he mumbled into his chest. Tim could almost feel Spencer’s burning cheeks through his shirt.
“Nope. You said it yourself; it’s validation for your whole teaching career. I get to be proud and you get to be smug. End of story.”
Now it was Spencer’s turn to snort. “End of story, huh?”
“Yep,” Tim said, nodding. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
Spencer laughed, and Tim loosened his arms just enough so he could pull back and stare him in the eye. “I am proud of you,” he said softly. “I know how much you wanted this, and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you.”
“You’re biased,” Spencer said, his cheeks bright red as he tried, in vain, to hold back a smile.
“Your principal isn’t. And just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Okay, okay.” Spencer grinned up at him. “I’m awesome and I deserve all the rooms. Happy?”
“Almost.”
“Almost?”
“Mmm hmm.” Tim lowered his voice. “You deserve one more thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Spencer matched Tim’s tone. “What’s that?”
Tim leaned down. “This.”
Then he kissed him. It was hard to remember they were in a school when he was practically bursting with happiness and pride for his boyfriend, but somehow Tim managed to keep himself in check. They only made out for about a minute or two, and while hands might have wandered, they stayed firmly above the clothes.
Mostly.
“So, what did she want anyway?” Tim asked a few minutes later. They were still on Spencer’s desk, though now Tim was sitting completely on top of it and Spencer was standing between his legs. “Did she really come all the way over here to yell at you for getting the room.”
“And we were having such a nice moment too,” Spencer said with a groan before kissing Tim’s neck to let him know he was at least partly joking. “But no. She doesn’t know I got the room yet. She came all the way over here to yell at me because she heard I might get it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup,” he answered, popping the P a bit. Tim’s face must have been showing at least some of the incredulity he was feeling, because Spencer smirked and ruffled his hair. “Your concern is adorable, but honestly this is way tamer than I was expecting. I thought I’d have to dodge tacks on my chair and buttered floors for weeks. All she did was yell a bit and stomp around like a bitchy little baby.”
“Wow.” Tim frowned. “That’s pretty unprofessional.”
Spencer burst out laughing. “Oh my God!”
“What? What did I say?”
Spencer shook his head, the only answer he could give while laughing so hard. It took him almost a full minute to calm down. “Sorry,” he said, choking back what sounded like another giggle.
“Was I wrong?”
“Oh, fuck no, not in the least,” Spencer said with a snort. “But I think ‘having sex with students’ is a bit more unprofessional than ‘yelling at another teacher because he’s getting the awesome room.’”
Tim’s stomach turned to lead. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Not in the least,” Spencer said, his lip curling in disgust and any sense of levity gone from his voice. “I really never told you about her?”
“No! I’d remember if you told me about a teacher who had sex with students.”
“I guess that would be pretty memorable.”
“She doesn’t…” Tim paused, unsure if he really wanted to know.
“Tim?”
“I mean. She’s a ninth-grade teacher, right? Surely, she doesn’t have sex with her own students. Not that having sex with seniors is
much better, but…”
Spencer was already shaking his head. “Seniors are way too old for her.”
Tim shuddered. “Jesus Christ. How the hell does she still have a job?”
“Tenure and a damn good teacher’s union.”
“Seriously?”
Spencer shrugged. “It’s the going theory. She’s been investigated by the cops twice since I’ve been here, and each time they couldn’t find enough evidence to arrest. Corbin can’t fire teachers without a good reason, and the school board doesn’t really give a shit what happens as long as test scores are good, and nothing actually goes to trial.” Spencer smiled in grim sympathy at Tim’s appalled expression. “Welcome to Chicago.”
Tim felt ill. And she’d been standing right in front of him. He’d been so close to someone who…
A thought occurred to him, then, and he felt the blood drain from his face.
“How…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “How do you know all this? Did…did Connor ever…”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Oh. No! No, no, not at all.” Tim almost collapsed in relief. Spencer winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think… But no. Definitely not. I warned him never to be alone with her before the year even started. I only know about her because of Cass. And because she thought I was a student and hit on me my first day.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“I…guess?”
Tim startled himself by laughing. “Not about you. About Connor.”
“Oh. Right. Definitely.”
“Not that I like the idea of her hitting on you,” Tim said with a scowl.
“It was pretty horrifying. Especially when I realized she thought I was a kid.” Now it was Spencer’s turn to shudder.
“You reported her though, right?”
“Of course.”
“What happened?”
“I already told you,” Spencer said sourly. “Nothing. Well, nothing except making sure I always come to school with at least a little bit of stubble so people wouldn’t think I was a fucking teenager, I guess. A few days later I got to be friends with Cass, and she told me all about Steph’s sordid history. A few days after that, someone told Steph I turned her in, and we’ve pretty much hated each other ever since.”