Top in the Class

by Feral Sephrian

  The remnants of Terry’s time in the pool sped by in a blur. Terry barely put any thought into what stroke he was doing, how fast he was going, or even how many laps he had already completed. He was planning what he would say very carefully. It was amusing that Kyle had armed Terry with the argumentative tools he needed to get his point across. Logos, appeal to his sense of reason. Ethos, appeal to his morals. Pathos, appeal to his emotions. But always keep in mind that arguing with a brick wall is pointless. Ensure your audience is open-minded before you launch your attack. Terry had written those exact words in his notes only a few weeks ago.

  Kyle might as well have been any other person in that pool as Terry walked back to the locker room, except no one else gave Terry that deep clenching sensation in his chest that was so similar to both guilt and hunger. It doesn’t matter if I never fuck him again, I just want to know what I did…Okay, I would also be sad if I never fucked him again, but priorities.

  Terry stood in the cascade of warm water and rubbed every part of his body to remove the chlorine and other substances from the pool. He turned at every little sound that might be footsteps. A few guys came in on their way to do their own half-hour of laps. Terry waved at them. None of them was particularly cute, which was a shame. What Kyle would think if he walked in on Terry and another student making out…

  It wouldn’t be the same. I’ve already proved that. If Kyle seriously wants nothing more to do with me, I’ll drop him and find someone less complicated. But if we can pick up where we left off after the term ends…the things I’m gonna do to that man…

  Kyle didn’t make an appearance until ten minutes after Terry got out of the shower. Terry was either going to have to skip dinner or be late for work, but he was punctual enough and this was important enough to him that he was willing to make that sacrifice. He sat on the bench patiently. As effective as it would be to go up to Kyle as he was in the shower itself, that was a bit too creepy. He settled for clearing his throat loudly when Kyle had been rinsing off for over a minute and hadn’t looked into the main locker room yet.

  With a startled grunt, Kyle turned around, partially covering himself even though he was still wearing his swim trunks. As Terry expected, Kyle wasn’t happy to see him. “Damn it, you are stalking me.”

  Terry threw his hands up in incredulous exasperation. “Really? This is the first fucking time I have approached you this whole semester. Every other time has either been in class, which neither of us can avoid, or when we’re both swimming, which I have to do for a class. If you didn’t want to see me, you could have chosen a different time to swim.” He gestured to show he wanted to drop that topic. “But whatever.”

  Kyle shifted to cross his arms, both to seem tougher and to continue covering his partial nudity. “Well then,” he said standoffishly, “why are you here?”

  There were so many things Terry could say. He could tell Kyle about the effect he had had on his life, how the distance Kyle put between the two of them had hurt him, how immensely frustrating it was to be treated like an obnoxious ex when all he wanted to be was a good student. What have I done to you? Is there any chance for us or should I listen to Paul and just give up on you for good? However, he knew there was the chance someone could overhear them, so he had crafted his argument with language that couldn’t be construed as anything other than a disgruntled student confronting his professor about unfair behavior.

  “The way you’ve been treating me in class has to stop,” Terry said. Speaking like this to an authority figure felt strange, but he was also talking to a guy he had hooked up with in a club parking lot. Age and status didn’t matter when the pleasure was mutual. Riding that sense of familiarity soured by Kyle’s contemptuous attitude, Terry continued to address him as something like an equal. “Whatever bias you have against me because of my…background, that is no fucking excuse to exclude me from participation. I’m guessing my grades are immaculate so far except that one that tracks how much I speak up in class and how many times I give the right answers. Pretty hard to grade something that never happens, though not through lack of trying. If, for some reason, you didn’t want the rest of the class to think you’re treating me any special way, guess what, they’ve noticed something is up, and I’ve had people tell me your behavior is unwarranted.”

  Okay, that’s logos and ethos, time to hit him with pathos. Terry took a deep breath and closed his eyes to give the impression of someone holding back an emotional outburst. “All I want, all I’ve wanted this whole semester, is to be a good student—no, the top student. How am I supposed to prove myself if you ignore me? What are you gaining from this? Is this making you feel better about something? Because it makes me feel like I’m not worth a damn to you, as a student or even a person, so like I said: This. Has. To stop.”

  Kyle’s chest puffed up like he was about to retort, but he paused, his lips barely open. He pursed them. “Mr. Saliski—Terry, I—” He bit his lip again. “I didn’t intend to…to completely shut you out of the class, but…but…”

  Terry shook his head with a sneer of disbelief. “You can’t even bring yourself to admit why you did it. I see how it is. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Professor, I’m going to be late for work.” With that, Terry made his exit. Kyle didn’t call after him, not that Terry expected him to. It would have been nice, comforting even, but so unlikely that Terry wasn’t even disappointed. As he walked away, he felt the gnarled hole in his chest grow deeper and hungrier.

  Fuck. That does it. This isn’t healthy. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I’ve said my piece, and now I’m done with him. He could come crawling up to me right here and now and all I’d do is give him the finger.

  Despite this resolve, when Terry’s phone chimed and displayed a new text from Kyle, his heart caught in his throat.

  I need to talk to you, was all it said. No apologies, no explanations, nothing to convince Terry to reply, and yet Terry’s mind immediately started drafting a response.

  NOW you want to talk? What about all the times I’ve reached out to you and you gave me the cold shoulder?

  Too late for that. Fuck off.

  Wait, who is this?

  Do you mean on the phone or in person? We could meet up somewhere if you want.

  Terry stared at the unanswered message in his inbox. The conversation below it was from Paul, with one from Olivia a few slots below that. He knew what both of them would say. Paul had alternated between teasing Terry for wanting to be a “teacher’s pet” and finding ways to present him with other options. Olivia, when she bothered herself to get involved with the situation, reminded Terry not to get himself or “Professor Sexy” in trouble by trying to seduce him where the college administration could catch wind of it.

  Taking the somewhat petty path, Terry tapped the text so Kyle would see that he had read it, then he left it alone while he was at work. He mentally went over his assignments for other courses. He couldn’t drive Kyle from his mind entirely, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on him. There were more important things in his life, as much as the hungry hole in his chest tried to convince him otherwise.

  There was another text from Kyle waiting for him when Terry finally checked it at his break. The time stamp was from an hour after he received the first one.

  Yes, I get it, I’m a shithead who should come crawling to you on my knees instead of making a casual request through text, but you deserve the truth, if you want to hear it.

  Terry scoffed. He recognized the tactic. Kyle was playing the “I’m rolling over and submitting so you’ll stop being mad” card. Terry had been on the giving and receiving end of that card enough times before that he wasn’t fooled by it. However, it was the promise of the truth that made Terry hesitate. The truth was what he had wanted the whole time, the truth about why Kyle suddenly seemed to hate him, the truth about whether there was anything in the future or if Terry should, in fact, give up on the whole thing.

  What truth? Terry wrote back. He could have
added more passive aggressive accusations, but for the sake of not showing just how complicated his feelings were, he kept it simple.

  The reply came as Terry’s break was ending. You wouldn’t be the first student I…well, you know.

  That took Terry by surprise. He wouldn’t be missed if he stayed on break another few minutes. Oh God, don’t tell me you’ve had a lover in every class.

  No! was the immediate response. The three dots that appeared beneath it held Terry’s attention for what seemed like ten minutes. It was only one time, but it was a terrible mistake, one I didn’t want to make again.

  Terry gave it a moment’s thought. I have to get back to work. Whatever you need to say, write it in an e-mail. I’ll read it when I get home.

  The break room door opened. Terry jumped a little, expecting someone to remind him his break was over, but it was just another dead-eyed coworker trying to find a little respite in a microwaved bowl of home cooking.

  The phone vibrated in Terry’s hand. Thank you, Adonis.

  Terry’s heart skipped. That name…why would he use that name? That was the name Terry associated with their sexts, with the Kyle Terry knew before he knew Professor Weiman. He’s still there. Terry’s heart restarted with a frantic pace. The rush of blood made him feel warm, despite the cool temperatures of the break room. He put his phone away before he could beg for more details. The end of his shift could not come soon enough.

  Chapter 6

  Terry,

  I could waste this first paragraph saying I’m sorry. Judging by your tone in the locker room, though, we’re past the part where an apology, simple or otherwise, is going to change how you feel. You’re hurt and you don’t know why. You want to know why I’ve been treating you like a leper for the past month. I’ll tell you, and your opinion of me is not going to improve, but like I said, you deserve to know.

  When I first got the job here six years ago, I kept my sexuality a secret, since it was still a sensitive topic and I didn’t want any drama. During my second year as a teacher, however, there was this one student who had me in his gaydar from the moment he laid eyes on me. I resisted his flirtations at first, but as you may have noticed I do have a thing for strong-willed young men. Not saying that’s why I became a teacher, but I’m sure my straight colleagues have their “favorites” as well.

  This kid, not going to say his name because I don’t want you trying to find him, was persistent. I was simultaneously infuriated and turned on by it. I broke towards the end of the semester, because I figured that conflict of interest would be over soon and what harm could come of one little fling, right? (Famous last words.) I will abashedly admit the taboo made it hot, but I should have known better.

  He played me up until finals. We had a few “student-teacher meetings” before then. The whole time he promised he’d keep it a secret. That is, until he handed in his final paper with a note that said, “This is A-worthy, and if you say otherwise I’ll out you and tell the dean what we’ve been up to.” Fortunately it was a good paper. I would have given it a B, but for the sake of my career I curved the grade a tad. End of story, right?

  Unfortunately, my torture continued. That little bastard signed up for two more of my classes before he graduated, and during the second one I confronted him, much the same way you confronted me today. Later that week everyone knew I was gay. He didn’t drop the big secret, but he gave me a taste of his brutality. On top of that, he insisted we keep having “meetings” or else…

  To this day he hasn’t told anyone the whole truth, as far as I know. He got what he wanted out of me and if I told anyone about him it would have deeper ramifications for me than for him anyway. It’s a shame that still hangs over my head, though. When I met you in that bar I thought I could have my little fantasy of sleeping around with a younger man without any sort of conflict. You had mentioned your 27th birthday was coming up so when you said you were going back to school I assumed it was for a graduate degree. I should have asked, but I think I was afraid of the chance you might show up in my classroom. When you did, I was even more afraid because I thought maybe somehow you had known who I was. I know, I approached you, but once bitten and all that.

  I will apologize now, but for specific things. I’m sorry I ignored your messages; I didn’t want you to feel like you had a hold on me. I’m sorry I avoid you in class; I was worried my affection for you (yes, I still have some) would slip out. I’m sorry for being a downright asshole to you; I thought if you assumed I hated you, you wouldn’t try to pursue me the way HE did. On top of all that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth at the start of the semester, or at least warn you not to try any tricks; I didn’t want you to get ideas.

  All that being said, I did this because I knew if you did try to “get on my good side,” I would have a hard time resisting you. I’ve been wanting another night with you for weeks, and hating myself because of it. I hoped by now you would have given up on me, but, if by some miracle you’re still interested, maybe when the semester is over, we can “accidentally” bump into each other, maybe at the same bar, and try to pick up where we left off? If not, I completely understand.

  Please respond with as much honesty as I’ve shown you, harsh as it might be.

  Yours (if you’ll have me, and only after you are no longer my student),

  Kyle

  * * * *

  Terry stared at the signature of the e-mail, processing everything he had just read. “Yours if you’ll have me…” Is that what I want? Well, duh, I’ve thought about it enough, but should I want it?

  A brief check of the college’s class catalogue confirmed that Terry could get this post-bacc without taking any other classes that Kyle taught. He suspected it might not go over well if the administration found out a professor and a student were fucking on the side regardless of other circumstances, but he would never intentionally tell anyone.

  Well, at least he’s not married. That minor relief was not nearly enough to mitigate the sensation in his chest. Kyle was right; if Terry knew who had done this to him, there would be blood. Terry pictured someone who had gone on to be a skeevy business man, worming his way to being the overpaid CEO of some company, or possibly buying his way into politics with an equal amount of wealth and information. In this scenario, Terry marched into that piece of shit’s office, punched him square in the nose, and said, “That’s for Kyle!”

  The door to Paul’s room opened and closed. Clattering sounds soon followed in the kitchen. Terry almost got up to show Paul the e-mail and prove it wasn’t pointless to pine after his professor. However, he could already hear Paul’s reply; “Okay, well, you still can’t fuck him yet. Are you sure you don’t want to find someone who’s actually available?”

  Terry read the e-mail over again. His sympathy for Kyle grew. A bitter warning in his chest reminded him that he himself had targeted Kyle’s emotions when he confronted him earlier. Kyle literally taught a class on swaying people to his side of an argument. But why would he make up a story like this? What would he gain from making me think he had been blackmailed by a student if he wanted nothing to do with me? I guess he could make me feel guilty if that’s what it was intended to do, but it’s not.

  It took one more reading and fifteen minutes of stopping and starting for Terry to compose a satisfactory response.

  Kyle,

  I can promise you right now that I am nowhere near that evil. My interest in you is purely because I like you and want to fuck you as often and with as little drama as possible. That is, so long as it’s what you want, too. If what you want is to put some distance between us while I’m your student, that’s understandable. Forgive my impudence, but you could have just told me that from the beginning, you dolt. (Though I admit, I should have mentioned it was a post-bacc degree instead of calling it “nothing fancy”).

  I’m glad that despite your misgivings, you’ve still been grading me fairly (unless you were boosting my grades out of fear that I would blackmail you if you did
n’t, in which case please do not, since there is no need and I want to earn my good grades). I don’t want any special treatment from you as a professor. As a bottom, I expect you to treat me very well, but we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it.

  I think it’s fair that I warn you that once I get this degree and enough money I intend to travel again, so whatever this might be would have a shelf life of three, maybe four years, unless you would gladly accept nudes from any and every hotel I stay in, because I would gladly send them. Again, I’m willing to see where this goes if you are.

  Your top (student),

  Terry

  There was the usual momentary panic where Terry double-checked that he had sent the e-mail to the correct address and hadn’t accidentally sent it to the entire class. Everything seemed secure, but a thrill set his heart racing. He was arranging an affair with his professor. He had to tread carefully from here on out.

  Still probably going to jerk off to the fantasy of fucking him over his own desk. Or doing “extra credit” work for him outside of class. The fantasy was soured by the knowledge that someone had used “extra credit” as a form of extortion. Terry wanted to jerk off to Kyle anyway, so instead he pictured himself in his graduation gown and nothing else, lifting the skirt so Kyle could do whatever he wanted. In this case, that was bending Terry over and giving him the gift he had yearned for since that night in the car.

  Terry listened keenly for signs that Paul was out in the kitchen again. Satisfied with the silence, Terry quietly locked his door, pulled up some of the pictures Kyle had sent him before, and pictured this blissful future.

  * * * *

  Class with Kyle was a much more enjoyable experience now that Kyle gradually started treating Terry like any other student. Kyle hadn’t responded to Terry’s e-mail, but when Terry raised his hand in the next class Kyle actually called on him to answer. It was the only time he did so, despite Terry raising his hand again some time later, but by the time their midterm grades came back, Terry felt as included and productive as he did in his other courses.