Hi, guys. So, I have a really awful case of writer's block at the moment so this was exceptionally hard to write, hence the late update. I'm really sorry and I hope this is okay; I don't really like this chapter. Hopefully, you do (you wont:P).
You will very much L-O-V-E the next chapter. Trust me. Chapter 11 is... well, stuff happens. ;)
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Monday morning means school. School means lessons. Lessons on a Monday morning in school mean Mr. Payne. Mr. Payne means thinking about what happened in Costa and my relentless attraction towards him, something which is so strong that I’m starting to resent it.
I think it is safe to say that I’m going to die.
Niall and Louis aren’t exactly helping the situation, either. Whilst Louis still has no idea that I’m having a little shebang with my teacher - I have no idea what this ‘shebang’ is, thinking about it. Is it even a ‘shebang’? – he still manages to tease me because I so blatantly fancy Mr. Payne. Niall joins in and also does a bit of his own joking when Louis isn’t around; he’s been ripping it out of me left, right and centre.
“Hey, Zayn,” Louis says, flicking a piece of Mars bar off his finger and hitting me on the cheek, “Guess what?”
Fighting the urge to smother his face with that stupid chocolate bar - he's not eating it, he's tearing bits off and firing them at me for his own stupid amusement - I pick the piece of Mars Bar off my face and ask, “What?”
Niall, for the umpteenth time, takes the chocolate off the tip of my finger and plops it into his mouth. I wrinkle my nose up in disgust as he laughs.
Louis continues like I never even spoke. “Mr. Payne’s single!” he says. He wiggles his eyebrows at me like I actually have a shot – which, I kind of do, considering the aforementioned shebang Mr. Payne and I have going on. “You’re single, too, aren't you?! He’s hot and -oh! - you’re hot, too….” He reaches out to run his finger along my jawline but I swat his hand away. “You’re up on your luck and he’s ready to f-“
“Dear God, Louis, don’t finish that! Is anything out of your mouth ever not- Wait…!” My skin is tingly and my heart is thumping and even though I’m blushing, my thoughts are working at a mile a minute because, holy mother of God, he’s actually single? Maybe I have a bigger shot than I thought. “He’s – Mr Payne is single?”
Niall raises an eyebrow at me discreetly behind Louis’ shoulder as if to say, ‘I know what you’re thinking, you dirty bugger’ and it makes the blush creeping up my neck flare to life, withering and red. “Does that interest you, Zayn?” he asks. “I bet you’re already thinking about seducing him in class, aren’t you?”
Louis snorts. "He’s probably thinking about biting that beautiful ass of his!"
As Niall shoots him a horrified look and me an equally disturbed one - the thought of Louis biting Mr. Payne's ass makes me feel stiff in my gut for some reason, and I have a feeling Mr. Payne is the biter, anyway, not the bitee - Louis grins mischievously.
"What?" he asks. "Come on, you know he was. Zayn totally wants to bite it."
Niall chuckles. "He wants to do more than that, mate."
"Right, right." As Louis and Niall both turn to me with sardonically slick and amused smiles, I feel myself start to bunch up and slowly disintegrate from pure and utter embarrassment and, albeit, shame. It's like they're in my mind, for God's sake! "He wants to suck it, bite it, fuck it-"
"Stop!" I cry. "Dear God, please, just- One day!" My voice has taken up a sort of desperation now. "One day without you teasing me or taunting me or making me blush, please!"
Niall laughs again and Louis only grins, as if the idea is ridiculous. “No can do, mate,” Niall says with a shrug, his eyes glimmering. “It’s way too much fun.”
“Sure is!” Louis chirps. “I’m just happy you finally know what a sex God that man is. That picture of him on the school website is my screensaver.”
Smothering that weird feeling in my gut again, I look at Louis in disbelief. “No, he isn’t,” I say. “Surely you’re not that sad.”
“Oh please!” Louis flicks his hair from his face then points at me very certainly, his eyes narrowing as he inspects me. “As if getting a boner over him every time he so much as moves isn’t?”
I furiously blush, fumbling for words as Niall starts snickering and I desperately stumble over excuses. “Well, I – You see – and it’s – there’s not… Niall, you promised you wouldn’t tell!”
Louis laughs, swinging an arm over my shoulder. I sway on my feet from the sheer force of it and lean up against Louis’ car but I don’t shake his arm off because he’ll just take the piss out of me even more. “Oh, I’m so hurt!” Louis pouts at me like a child deprived of their favourite toy. “I thought you always told me these things!”
Just as I go to tell him why I couldn’t – because I knew he’d react like this – Louis leans in. His lips brush over my ear and a quick shudder flushes through me, heat filing through my veins.
“I remember when it was me that used to get you hard,” he says, and I feel him smirk against my ear, light and feathery. “Don’t you?”
Words are lost for me. Niall is looking from me to Louis in confusion; Louis pulls away, grinning whilst I remain stood there, frozen and wide-eyed, as I turn to look at him. I do remember that - very well, in fact; too well. “I…”
“Should be going to class?” Louis pulls his arm away and steps closer to Niall than myself, still smirking. “So do I. They need a little spice in those changing rooms!”
“All your classmates are straight, Lou,” Niall says, rolling his eyes. “None of them are going to check you out during P.E.”
Louis only scoffs. “Please, this butt can make a straight man gay!” he states, diva-like as usual, and then he turns back to me and says, “Right, Zayn?”
I’m still a little taken a-back so I can only mutter a, “Er – erm – what?” before he laughs once more and the bell trills in the distance, making him say his goodbyes and walk off and leaving me to the mercy of Niall and his questions of ‘What did Louis say?!’ before we finally reach Biology.
My gut is churning inside of me, remembering in the bathroom on Saturday how Mr. Payne’s hand slowly ran across my hips and his fingers dipped in my boxers, lightly stroking me…
I shiver suddenly, the hairs rising on the back of my neck. I still haven’t told Niall about that. I’m not sure whether I’m going to, either, considering how real it seems now. This is getting so serious – or maybe that’s just me? – that I’m worried Niall won’t think it’s funny anymore and will start questioning my intentions. He’s like that, Niall. He always wants the best for me and worries about things that might bring me trouble and, considering this is technically an illegal relationship, this is definitely something Niall would consider bad for me if it got too serious or too intimate. And it most certainly is doing that, even if it’s at a fairly slow pace considering all the things I have wanted to do to Mr. Payne. I’m surprised I haven’t devoured him yet – except, I’m not because I’m awkward and get embarrassed when people see me naked and- dear God, I wonder how Mr. Payne looks naked…?
“You okay, mate?” Niall asks, frowning at me. He waves a hand in front of my face and I blink, returning to Earth.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Niall only shrugs, still looking a little concerned, before he pushes open and the door and we make our way to our seat at the back. I keep my head down, my guts swimming around nervously as my heart pumps way too hard in my chest. For some reason, I can’t muster up the courage to look at him and the fact makes it harder to focus on anything because I feel so hot and everything inside of me is so noticeable and so intense that I can’t help but want to melt into a puddle on the floor – a flustered puddle, no less.
I quickly unpack my things, collapsing into my seat and fixating my eyes on my desk, the back of my throat feeling dry and lumpy.
“Shit, Zayn,” Niall turns in his seat to face me, looking very concerned now, “are you sure you’re okay?”
Nodding is all I can do so I nod, nod like my life depends on it because, dear God, my stomach is sloshing around inside of me as if it decided to have a pillow fight with my hammering heart yet it couldn’t quite swing far enough. Everything is light yet heavy, pleasurable yet horrid, delicate yet callous. My lungs are on fire, caustic and clear-cut, tearing through my chest with every heaving inhale.
How can the very concept of seeing Mr. Payne do this to me?
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Payne says, breaking the hush that settled across the classroom as it does every time he rises to his feet. I can just about see him from the corner of my eye, undefined and blurry.
He still looks breath-taking, regardless.
“I trust you all had a nice weekend?”
There are a few murmurs of both agreement and disagreement and Mr. Payne chuckles deeply, low and smoky like it was on Saturday. I’m thrusted back to the memory; the memory of him staring intensely at me as my lips enclosed around his finger and he ordered me, immediately, into the bathroom…
“I’ll have to speak to you about some of those,” he says. “They sound far too interesting to pass up.”
Oh, my weekend was interesting, Mr. Payne. Achingly, beautifully, painfully interesting – but you already know that.
“Now, before we do anything else I’ll be checking over last lesson’s homework. If you recall, I set you some minor revision and to finish plotting your risk assessment and methodical diagram. It goes without saying that it’s crucial you finished it.”
Crucial you finished it. Crucial you finished it?! Oh, crap! I completely forgot about the homework. God, he’s going to kill me! I just – I couldn’t get my brain to work and I was so distracted by the very thought of him that I – I – I…
“Zayn Malik!” Mr. Payne calls out.
My heads snaps up, eyes immediately meeting his. The discomfort raging throughout my body splutters then cuts off, then starts back up again, twice as hard and twice as fast as before.
He kills me.
“Y-Yes, sir?” I ask.
Mr. Payne raises an amused eyebrow. “The homework, Zayn,” he says. “I was asking if you completed it, as I have been asking everyone for the past two minutes.”
Oh. OH. “I – no, sir,” I mutter dejectedly, flushing scarlet. “I’m sorry. I was... distracted.”
Gulping dryly, my eyes flicker away from his then back again. We hold each other’s gaze for a long while before I look away, blushing an even darker shade of red, and wring my fingers on the desk.
“You’ll have to use Niall’s for today,” he says, “considering you’re partners. Have it done by next lesson, Zayn, and see me after class.”
My heart slams so hard against my ribcage that I feel like I’ve been pushed back against my seat so I only nod, feeling sick with anticipation and excitement. See me after class.
“Good,” Mr. Payne says, then he proceeds to scroll through the register, asking people if they’ve done their work and marking down whether they are absent or not.
When that’s all done with and Mr. Payne has explained our activity for the day – dissecting rats – I stumble to my feet and grab gloves, a scalpel and all the other things we’ll need for today – including the rat – before returning to my seat where Niall looks like he’s going to be sick.
“Rats?!” he asks, his skin pale and clammy. “I – I don’t like rats at the best of times, let alone when we have to rip them open and look at their guts!”
Niall’s always had a fear of rats since he dropped this sandwich when he was younger, right outside of an alley by the Dump, and about four or so rats ran out and went for his sandwich. He exaggerates it when he tells the story but, basically, he came out with a few scratches, no sandwich, and a fear of rats.
“You’ll be okay, Nialler,” I say, smiling sympathetically at him though I feel a bit sick myself – not from the rats or the dissection but the stupid swarm of feelings thundering around inside of me. “I’ll lead you through it and do the harder parts.” I can’t do it all for him, though, or else he won’t get any marks.
Nodding shakily, Niall tries to smile though it looks more like a grimace and says, “Yeah, yeah. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. It’s just a rat and it’s dead and – ZAYN IT JUST LOOKED AT ME!”
I desperately fight the urge to laugh, immediately feeling awful about it. “No, Nialler, it’s dead.” I turn the rat’s head away so it’s not looking in his direction. “Look, think of it as revenge. You get to cut open a rat as a message to it and all of its rat friends that it can’t mug you of your sandwiches and scratch you ever again.”
Niall frowns at me. “Oi, it’s not funny!” he says. “Seriously, Zayn.”
“I’m being serious,” I reply. “This rat is suffering through a little thing called karma – hey, do you think I can make it dance?”
Trying to make Niall laugh and forget about his afflictions over rats, I lift up the rat using its arms with my gloved hands, making it do some really cheesy 80’s moves. Niall does smile, thankfully, and he even chuckles a little under his breath.
“He’s not very good, is he?” someone asks from my right. “That’s the worst dancing I’ve seen in a while.”
Due to the silkiness of his voice and the way it makes my skin tingle, I know it is Mr. Payne whom has spoken. I look at him, my gut trembling, and say, “I – ah – well, sir-“
“You clearly haven’t seen Zayn dance,” Niall says, grinning now, and I’m proud to have made him feel better even if it may be at my expense. “He looks like he’s having some sort of seizure.”
Mr. Payne’s eyes shine and he looks to me, smirking. “Oh? I would have thought Zayn would be a good dancer. It’s not like he trips over his feet a lot, is it?”
The sarcasm in his voice is evident even to Niall, who laughs again. Even though I’m embarrassed – the heat in my cheeks is enough of a clue – I can’t help but be thankful of Mr. Payne for cheering Niall up, too.
“I-I’m not that bad!”
“’Not that bad?!’” Niall splutters, humour tinting his face. “Zayn, the last time you danced, someone called an ambulance because they thought you were having a stroke.”
Mr. Payne does laugh now, and he laughs so hard that every single rotten emotion bloating my stomach whooshes out of me and I stare at him, transfixed, feeling dreamy. “I – er – well…”
“Just get to work,” Mr. Payne says, still laughing, “before you make the poor rat have a stroke, too.”
Niall and I do exactly that, and I try to pretend that Mr. Payne’s eyes aren’t lingering on me at every given opportunity and that he isn’t silently seducing me, however unintentionally it may be.
By the end of the lesson, Niall is about ready to throw up and he runs from the room without giving me a word of warning, leaving me to pack up our rat. Of course, we haven’t finished and neither has any other pair but Mr. Payne didn’t expect us to; we’ve got another two hours to finish this dissection up.
For a moment, I’m struck with sympathy for poor Niall, looking down at our rat whose skin has been cut open and pinned back so we can see all of its insides.
“Mr. Malik,” Mr. Payne says coolly, once the class is all packed away, “please remain behind. The rest of you can go.”
As everyone shuffles out of the class, I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and step up towards the front of class, my knees weak and shaky. I wait until the door has closed to breathe out, “M-Mr. Payne, I’m sorry about the homework, I-“
“I don’t care about the homework,” he says. “I didn’t think you would have done it.”
Feeling all fuzzy inside, I say, “Oh,” and let myself think that, for one moment, perhaps he just-
“I wanted to see you.”
That. Perhaps he just wanted that.
I stare at Mr. Payne, feeling itchy and restless, and my mouth waters as I marvel at the curve of his biceps in his shirt and feel the thickness of his voice run along my skin. I gape at the strong shape of his jaw and nose as his eyes burn into me and melt me away like chocolate in the sun. Mr. Payne is as hot as the sun so it’s very much possible. It feels like it.
Oh, God, how is he so addicting? Why can’t I get him out of my head? Why? Just why?!
“Zayn,” Mr. Payne starts slowly, carefully, remaining at a very safe distance from me. It makes me frown – we are usually much closer than this. “Saturday morning… shouldn’t have happened.”
I freeze my heart stopping in my chest. “Shouldn’t have happened…” Oh. So, he did want to see me but not to see me – he wanted to crush me, to call this off, to tell me that what I feel about him and what he probably feels about me is wrong and can’t go on any longer.
At this revelation, it’s like someone has violently kicked me in the gut and my eyes drop to the floor as I wobble on my feet, feeling my blood drain to my feet.
“You’re my student, Zayn. I’m your teacher. It’s wrong for me to take advantage of your… feelings,” he smirks at that, if only a little, “about me. I’m not prepared to ruin your reputation and, possibly, your schooling career.”
“I – but I…”
“It’s illegal for me to act on this, Zayn,” he says. He takes a step closer and I feel feel him now, feel his being and his aura and it makes me sway towards him weakly, wanting to reach out and touch him like I did on Saturday… “It’s considered a breach of trust, did you know that?”
I nod, hardly daring to move because he is so close now that I can feel his warmth and it makes a whimper tighten in the base of my throat.
“I can’t say I’m not remotely tempted…” Mr. Payne reaches out and tugs on my hand, pulling me into his chest.
I gasp, heat flushing through me as our abdomens touch and our legs entwine, and I stare up at him with my heart thumping in my chest painfully – literally painfully. It hurts. This hurts. Knowing I want him and having him so close, only to tell me that this can’t happen…
“I want to fuck you senseless, Mr. Malik,” he says in a low, sexy voice. It rolls against my skin and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He runs his finger along the waistline of my jeans making a trail goose bumps shoot up across my skin. “I want to wreck you, possess you….”
Just as I think he is about to go further, his hand poised at the entrance to my jeans, he pulls away completely and in the blink of an eye, he is stood a good five feet away from me. “Unfortunately, Mr. Malik, I can’t.”
Stupidly, I feel my throat tighten and I blink away the harsh burning in my eyes because my hopes were so high and now they’re crushed, broken into tiny, pathetic pieces next to my clumsy feet. “Mr. Payne, I – I want this. Please, I-“
“You should go now, Mr. Malik,” he interjects, turning away from me dismissively and sitting at his desk. “I’m sure Louis is looking for you.”
I stare at him for a moment; stare at the perfection of his eyes and his mouth and the smooth slope of his back before I feel something sharper stab at my chest and I purse my lips, turning on my heels and quickly walking out of the room before he can see how upset I am. It’s been long, so long, since I have been so mortally wounded – I feel like I’ve been punched repeatedly in the gut and, God, I don’t even know why. What is wrong with me?! I've been rejected sex or – or a relationship by someone I lust for obsessively and… and I’m saddened? Shouldn’t I just be irritated?!
“Zayn?” Louis asks when he sees me quickly leaving the school. He jogs to catch up with me, turning me around by my shoulder. “Zayn, what’s wrong?!”
“I – Lou, I have to go,” I breathe. My voice cracks and I mentally slap myself, not meeting Louis eyes as I shuffle impatiently on my feet. “I – I’ll call you later, okay? I’ve got to – I’m going… Harry,” I say finally. “I’m going to Harry’s.”
Louis looks at me; I can feel his eyes boring through me as if reading my every movement before, out of my peripheral, I see him nod. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Stay safe, Zayn.”
I only nod again, twisting around to walk out of the school gates, my phone already in my hand with Harry’s number typed in - after all, who else have I got to go to now? He’s probably the only one that will have me, and I definitely need to relieve some… stress.
Stress. Yeah.
Who needs a beautiful, sexy and funny teacher anyway, when they have someone who’s already there and willing to accept them for who they are, despite their flaws?
No-one. That’s who. Especially not me.
I don’t need Mr. Payne. And he most certainly does not need me.
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So, there you have it! I hope you like it! As I said, you will love the next chapter! xx