Stairway To Seven

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AN: It has been ENTIRELY too long, but I'm going to be honest, I'm extremely thankful for the attention this story is still getting, despite the time you all went by without anything. Thank you guys, so very much. I'm still pretty speechless, to be honest. I hope this little gift is enough to say thank you to the loyal readers and to say hello to the newer readers. Onward and up.

~DM~DM~DM~

Tuesday morning was a little harder to face, two sleepless nights in a row and I was a robot. No, a zombie. I had passed Jake in the hall after breakfast, he wasn't doing much better. I figured I wouldn't miss much from missing that much of history. Mr. Grayson was putting me further asleep than before, so I asked to go to the nurse halfway though class. I walked the mere two blocks to the coffee shop. My walk was mostly me reminding myself not to daydream. It didn't stop me from feeling Jake's hands on my body. Crossing the street to go inside the small shop was interesting. The warm rush of air reminded me, vividly, of the full body warmth that I had when he laid on top of me, smiling territorial-like before latching on to my neck. I subconsciously tapped the mark on my neck, smiling as I ordered two of the largest coffees they had. Walking back to the school was harder. Literally. Drinking my coffee, warm in my mouth and going down my throat, I knew it should taste sweet, like the pound of sugar I put in it, but all I could taste was the salty-sweet thickness I was rewarded after sucking on Jake, his eyes on me every moment they weren't closed. His hands weaving into my hair, sometimes on my shoulders, feeling my skin and I could tell he wanted to pull me closer, but there wasn't much closer I could be as I thanked everything for my lack of gag reflex. I was pushed out of my thoughts while crossing the street to the school. Because cars are large and in charge. And being almost ran over by some BMW does not get my boyf-- Jak-- Mr. Delaney his coffee any faster.

~JD~JD~JD~

Not having a class first period used to be awesome. Not so much anymore. Now it's more like torture. I've almost fallen asleep twice, and don't get me started on the number of times my mind has wondered to my boyf-- I can't call him that. I'm at school. We agreed that at school, we are just teacher and student. It was a little easier when he called me his boyfriend anyway. I feel like a teenager. Love struck and horny. Because all I can think about was his mouth on me, the feeling of his skin under my hands, the moan he gives when I first slip inside his body. Damn it, Jake, you're supposed to not be thinking of- "Dristan?"

"Hi, Mr. Delaney." He coughed, awkwardly. I understood why, it was strange to hear him say that after moaning my first name so many times the night before.

"Um." I had to clear my throat and try again. "Shouldn't you be in class?" I asked. He was barely in the room, having squeezed into the half shut door.

"At the risk of detention.." He laughed a little, moving further into the room. "I left early. Mr. Grayson was making me even more sleepy that I already was. I thought ahead. In order to stay up for the rest of my classes, I went for coffee." He said, holding a cup out for me. I might have thought to deny it, but it smelled delicious and me not noticing they were in his hands before spoke to my sleep deprived brain. I need caffeine. Almost as much as I needed to kiss him. But the door was still open. I could hear random students and teachers milling around in the hallway. I took the cup and smiled at him. He looked like he might be thinking the same thing. And then he thumbs the hickey on his neck. He might be thinking of other things now. I am now actively trying not to think about the shirt he chose for today, one that rode a little low around his neck and dips into a v-neck. You could see the very top of his chest, the muscles in his shoulders, and it spoke volumes. He wanted to show of the hickey. For me or for him, I wasn't sure, and quite frankly, I didn't care. His running his fingers on the mark I left on his neck had me palming myself under the desk. His eyes darted to the wooden top and I could tell he knew. Or maybe he was just thinking about it. Which had me thinking about it. About him under the desk, with his mouth on me the way it was last night. I could remember the feeling of the his warm breath along my dick, his hair between my fingers. I could still hear his moans, muffled, but loud to me in the empty classroom, just him and I. He cleared his throat. Whether to clear his thoughts or mine, it really didn't matter. "I should go." He said, the 'before we do something to get ourselves in trouble' was heavily implied. He moved closer, the door blocking us from the hallway, even if only by a little. "I'll see you third period."
"Yeah." I said, but my throat felt tighter as he sat on the edge of the desk and still moved closer. I realize I never stopped palming myself. His hand reached out, finger slowly going down my arm. I could feel the heat of him through the cotton of my dress shirt. Suddenly, the bell rung. Second period. He had to get to class, and out of here before my class shows up. He cleared his throat again. "Third period." I said instead of goodbye.

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