Top in the Class

by Feral Sephrian

  What tickled Terry most of all was, when the comments for his Argumentation paper came back, they weren’t the perfunctory and curt “Well put” or “Could be phrased better.” It was clear that Kyle had read the paper carefully and he remarked on how much effort and research Terry had put into his topic—“The Aggression of Peaceful Protests: Where is the Line Between Effective and Counterintuitive?”—as well as the number of sources Terry had used to explore civil uprisings of the past century. While Terry was relieved that three days in the campus library hadn’t been wasted, what delighted him the most was Kyle’s final comment.

  “Exactly what I would expect from my top student. I look forward to seeing how you’ll impress me next.” Terry wouldn’t have been too surprised to see a winking emoji at the end of that sentence.

  Oh, I’ll impress the pants off you.

  Terry’s fellow students were not as pleased with the results of their midterms. At the start of the class after grades were posted, students sat in susurrus clusters while they waited for Kyle to arrive. Some bragged about their good scores, some were comparing this class to the others they were taking, and a few bemoaned how terribly Kyle had graded them.

  One girl in particular who sat one desk over and two back from Terry was loudly complaining to her friends, one of whom was the girl who tried unsuccessfully to ask Terry out.

  “I did the assignment!” the loud girl said. “It was late by like, two hours! Why the hell did he take off so many points?”

  A third girl in their group snorted. “It’s in the syllabus. ‘Late assignments, unless cleared with me first, will have their grades reduced by ten points for every extra day.’” When the loud girl opened her mouth to complain again, her friend added, “‘The first day counts as an extra day.’ He told us that during the first class. You were busy on your phone, probably.”

  The loud girl huffed obnoxiously. “I told him why it was late. He shouldn’t have taken off so many points.”

  “Oh my God, Marissa, get over it,” her friend groaned. “You got a seventy-one, big deal, at least you passed.”

  “But if my GPA drops too low I’m going to lose my scholarship!”

  Marissa’s friend said exactly what Terry was thinking as he unwillingly eavesdropped on their conversation. “If your grades are that important, maybe you shouldn’t have put all your papers off until the last weekend. You’re going to have to spend less time out with TJ and more time getting your work done.”

  The girls continued to bicker, Marissa’s friends trying to convince her that they had also put little effort into their papers with expected results yet they weren’t going to contest them, until Kyle entered the classroom. At that point, the muttering around the room died down to occasional whispers.

  “I take it everyone has seen their grades by now,” Kyle said. “I also take it that some of you will want to discuss them. I’m extending my office hours today and tomorrow for an extra hour, so you can either make an appointment with me after class or swing by and see if I’m available. Otherwise, I will assume that you’re fine with what you got. However, it’s time to delve deeper into logical fallacies and how to avoid them.”

  Terry had only skimmed the reading for this, though he had looked up the various types of fallacies to simply get an idea of them. He was learning things from Kyle’s lecture, but a certain fantasy kept playing the back of his mind. It was similar to the “fucking Kyle over his own desk” one, except in this case Terry sauntered into Kyle’s office, casually tossing his backpack to the ground as he settled into the chair opposite Kyle’s. Kyle asked what brought Terry to his office. Terry merely smirked and told Kyle that they both knew why he was there. He unzipped his jeans, revealing that he had “conveniently” been in too much of a rush to put underwear on that morning. His rigid cock popped through the opening. Kyle was immediately overcome by lust and walked around the desk to fall on his knees before Terry, who graciously allowed Kyle to suck him off before ordering him to present himself.

  “…to practice identifying some of these, which means I want to you group up into threes or fours, then I’ll come around with the worksheets.”

  Kyle’s real voice prevented Terry from diving too deep into that daydream. His cock had already swollen slightly against his thigh. Please don’t make us get up and move to different desks for this…Please don’t make us get up and move to different desks for this…

  Instead, they were supposed to cluster with the people nearest them. Terry turned his desk and scooted further up in his seat to hide the bulge that was taking its sweet time to disappear. Kyle came down the aisle to them with their worksheet, a list of statements and a word box of fallacies at the bottom. Terry played it casual. He peered over onto the desk of the student who had accepted the sheet. As Kyle walked away, Terry stole a peek at his ass and smiled to himself.

  The three girls who had been chatting earlier were in a group next to Terry’s. Marissa, rather than doing the exercise, was taking this time to complain about her other classes as well. This was supposed to be her “easy” class, and the more she talked the more Terry could see why her grades were struggling. She struck him as the entitled intellectual type who had done well in high school and thought they could coast through college as well. Terry had had that rude awakening himself. The difference was that Terry was already on thin ice for being gay, so rather than admit to his parents that he couldn’t handle the collegiate workload and a part-time job, he pushed himself to be better until he was getting nothing but A’s and the occasional B.

  A new fantasy formed in Terry’s mind. In this one, his grades were slipping due to overwork and Kyle offered him “favors” if he worked harder. Being a strict but fair professor, Kyle didn’t cut Terry any slack. He wouldn’t take his pants off for anything less than A-grade work. Terry would beg and argue and Kyle allowed some fondling as a reward for his debating technique, but if Terry started enjoying it too much then it was back to the books.

  One of the other students in the group tapped the end of their pen on the desk loudly and rapidly enough to draw Terry’s attention. Their nose was crinkled in confusion. “So, wait, what’s retrospective determinism again?”

  Terry was surprised to find that this was one of the few paragraphs he had read in full the night before. Quoting what he could remember, he said, “Retrospective determinism is a form of generalization which claims that an occurrence is inevitable or that those circumstances would always produce the same result.” He read through the list of statements. “So that’d be…like…this one. ‘She was asking for it; look at the way she’s dressed.’ That’s inferring that, because she was dressed a certain way, it was inevitable that something bad would happen to her.”

  Or ‘He’s going to blackmail you; he’s a student you want to fuck.’ Just because it happened once doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. It doesn’t even mean that he blackmailed you because you were attracted to him. He was looking for a way to take advantage of you, so he’s to blame. Terry had written something similar to Kyle a few days after Kyle’s confession. Kyle still chose not to respond, but he did greet Terry warmly at the pool the next time they ran into each other after that.

  Kyle was at the front of the class supervising, so Terry gave up on sexual reveries and actually participated in his group. He could match up most of the answers, but was grateful that someone else knew what he didn’t. It prevented him from both looking like a know-it-all and not allowing other people to be right.

  At the end of the class when all the discussions were over, Kyle said he was impressed with their work. Terry felt a smug glow of pride as though Kyle had spoken to him and him alone. If he didn’t have to get to work, he would have liked to stop by Kyle’s office, just to say hello. He settled for a brief yet pointedly sultry glace on his way out the door.

  Paul texted him on his way to work. Terry checked it at a stop light.

  Has Professor Sexy sucked your dick in class yet? Paul had been like this ev
er since Terry had admitted that Kyle wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder anymore. “That’s great,” Paul had said. “I doubt you’re gonna hit that any time soon, so do you want to go on a bar crawl this weekend with me or what?”

  Terry didn’t answer until he pulled into the parking lot at work. Ever hear of the marshmallow test? Sometimes you gotta wait to get the best in life. He sat back and imagined Paul’s face the week after the semester ended when Kyle would come pick Terry up for an evening on the town followed by a night at his place.

  Or my place, Terry thought with a satisfied snort. Paul can listen to us fucking through the walls. We’ll see who’s making wisecracks then.

  Chapter 7

  Due to his extended hours, Kyle was not at the pool the next day. Terry, who was up to eighteen laps in a half-hour now, decided to cheat a little and simply mark his eighteen laps after twenty minutes so he could swing by Kyle’s office before work. There were other people from his swimming class there, but he suspected they wouldn’t rat him out. He had overheard one of them saying he planned to do the same thing during midterms so he could have more time to study. Terry had never noticed if he had or hadn’t, since that was around when Kyle started being nice to him again and Terry was more focused on trying to show off and be sexy than monitor the integrity of his fellow students.

  Terry’s legs ached as he climbed the stairs to Kyle’s office. It was only on the third floor, but since Terry had powered through as many laps as he could in twenty minutes, he was exhausted. It would all be worth it if Kyle was free to see him. He’d pop in, give him a smile, ask some banal question about upcoming classwork, then vanish, maybe with a parting wink if there weren’t any witnesses. The thought drove Terry up that last set of steps, despite the weeping sensation in his muscles.

  Sadly, the door was closed when Terry finally made it to the office. Through the window he spotted someone sitting in the chair across from Kyle at the desk. Terry casually walked past, not daring to linger and spy on who was stealing away this time he could be having with Kyle.

  Terry casually meandered down to the second floor then came back up, but the door was still closed. However, as soon as he was back in the stairwell, he heard clacking footsteps walking to the other end of the hall. He checked the time on his phone. It was later than he thought it was. If he did turn around, he would only have a minute or two to say hello. He wasn’t sure he could have any kind of conversation in that short of a time that wouldn’t end with an awkward, “…Well, bye.” Furthermore, his legs were killing him and he knew if he sat down he wasn’t likely to get up again for a while. He’d rather collapse in the driver’s seat of his car than Kyle’s office if the latter meant he would be late for work.

  Mildly disappointed, but still yearning for some contact with Kyle, Terry settled for a text message. Hi, friend. How are you today? I missed having some competition at the pool.

  Terry was out of the building by the time the response came. You’d think I’d have your number memorized by now, but I still get confused when it pops up.

  Wait, do you not have my number saved as a contact? Terry wondered if Kyle had done something like this, but he had never been sure.

  Kyle’s next text confirmed Terry’s suspicions. I deleted it and all your texts when I found out you were in my class. Didn’t want to take any chances.

  Terry rolled his eyes and replied, You do realize I still have all those though, right? Not that I’d ever show anyone, but it’s not like you destroyed one-of-a-kind documents or anything.

  I know, but it made me feel more secure…kind of…

  As Terry was writing a response, another message from Kyle popped up. Maybe to cut back on confusion I’ll save you as “Adonis.”

  Terry grinned. I’d like that. You’re just saved as “Hot Kyle.”

  How many Kyles do you know?

  I know OF a few, but I also have “Coworker Kyle” saved in case we’re going out after work and one of us needs to disappear with someone else. You are way WAY hotter than he is though.

  All Kyle had as a response to that was a winking emoji.

  Terry wrote, Wanted to stop by your office and see you before work, but it seemed you were pretty busy.

  Ugh, I would have welcomed a reason to kick her out. It was one of your classmates trying to convince me to raise her midterm grade, even though it was late and my late policy is CLEARLY stated in the syllabus. I put it in bold and everything.

  Terry snickered. That wouldn’t happen to be Marissa, would it?

  You didn’t hear it from me. ;P

  I heard her complaining about it before class yesterday. Her friends told her the same thing. She strikes me as the entitled type.

  And how. I offered her an extra credit assignment, but she said her course load was already too much and couldn’t I pretty pretty please just take off the lateness deduction? A few seconds later, that message was followed up with, There’s at least one in every class.

  They continued texting each other as Terry walked to his car. It was obvious Kyle was grateful for the conversation. The three dots that indicated he was typing always popped up within a few seconds of Terry sending a message. He was disappointed when Terry made it to the car and had to stop texting.

  Sometimes I wish you were a worse student so I’d have a reason to call you into my office more often.

  With a smirk, Terry replied, Would you be able to contain yourself? Just a few weeks ago you seemed convinced that even talking to me would make everyone think we were fucking.

  Well…the thing is that when I deleted our conversation I deleted all the pictures you sent me, so…

  Oh, I see. You want to ogle me but you can’t do it in class and you have no photos, so you’d rather do it in the safety of your own office.

  Checking that no one was nearby in the parking lot, Terry played with himself enough to get a semi, then pulled down his pants to snap a quick dick pic. He sent it with the caption, Ogle this, but don’t tell anyone where you got it. ;P

  That semi didn’t fade until Terry made it to work, since he spent the whole ride picturing Kyle in his office, surreptitiously jerking off at his desk with his phone in his other hand. In his mind he transported himself under that desk. With a grin and a devilishly seductive one-liner, he took Kyle by the thighs and teased that girthy cock with his mouth. Terry put that fantasy away for later. His phone chimed as he exited the car.

  Just what I needed. Sorry I was too preoccupied to return the favor. And I am still a little nervous about keeping too much “incriminating evidence” on my phone.

  Terry smiled. I’ll consider that one you owe me then. We’ll see how many you rack up by the time the semester ends. I’m looking forward to how you’ll repay me…

  * * * *

  Texting with Kyle was a welcome reintroduction to his routine, especially since Terry had two projects to work on that weekend. They kept it innocent, for the most part. Terry did send him another sexy picture, then told him to save it on his computer where he kept the rest of his porn stash—Don’t lie to me, Terry had written, I know you have one—so he could erase it from his phone. Every time he saw Paul he wanted to rub it in his face. What held him back was knowing that Paul’s reaction would be better if this all remained a surprise.

  However, he couldn’t keep this all to himself. Though he had promised Kyle he wouldn’t tell anyone about their little planned affair, there was one other person who already knew. Sunday night, when Paul was out, Terry sat down with Olivia as she ate her dinner in the living room.

  “I’ve got something I need to brag about,” Terry said, “but you cannot let it slip to anyone else. Not yet, okay?”

  Olivia swallowed her mouthful of pasta. “It’s about Professor Sexy, isn’t it?”

  Terry nodded.

  She looked at him with what could have been pity or disbelief. “When you say ‘brag,’ I hope that doesn’t mean you’ve done what I’ve been telling you not to.”

  “I
haven’t fucked him yet, don’t worry.”

  “‘Yet’? So that’s a possibility again?”

  Terry nodded again, his lips curving into an involuntary smile.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “I take it your brain is only used for holding stuff until exams? Everything else seems to be controlled by a different head at the moment.”

  “Oh, come on, it’s not like that.”

  “Isn’t it? Do you even have feelings for this guy other than lust?”

  Terry could have told her about the previous student Kyle had gotten involved with, how angry he had been when Kyle told him, how much he yearned to be something good in Kyle’s life. He was already breaking one promise of secrecy, though. He didn’t intend to break any more. “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s something. I think this is a schoolboy crush gone awry, but you know your feelings better than I do.” Olivia took another bite of her dinner. “Alright, brag away.”

  The excitement was soured. Two minutes ago, Terry would have gladly leapt at the first chance he had to tell her that Kyle had gotten off to a picture he sent him. Now he thought about what her reaction would be, and it wasn’t the awe or jealousy or even a remark about how impressed she was that Terry wanted. He tried to put it in the best light possible in hopes of salvaging some sort of praise for his accomplishment. “I know for a fact that Kyle wants me.”

  Olivia chewed expectantly. “Go on,” she said, her voice muffled by the food stuffed in her cheeks.

  “He’s agreed that once the semester ends, we can ‘get back together.’ Then I won’t be his student and there won’t be any controversy.”

  “But you’ll still be a student. I get that most of the problems people have with student/teacher hookups are about the student being a minor and the teacher taking advantage of them, which isn’t a problem in your case, but there’s still enough of a taboo around it that you both could get in trouble if you’re not careful.” Olivia arranged the pasta into a more stable pile with her fork. “Not like I’ve been telling you that since day one.”