A/N: Just wanna open with the fact that Jared's a horny asshole with minimal redeeming qualities. If that's not your cup of tea, I respect that. If you like that shit, by all means!
Warnings: Dramatic teenage outbursts, underage characters (no younger than 17yrs), wtf moments, my attempt at humor, and anime eye colors just because I like the color purple.
Also, I'm terrible at math. I took some random terms off the internet and pasted it in, so sorry to all the math majors out there if nothing makes sense!
X
To the few friends he had, Jared Redfield was a risk-taker, and as a risk-taker, he had no qualms about venturing into the stupid. Whether it be getting high in the middle of the woods by himself with nothing but a flashlight to guide his way or attempting to summon a demon by Ouija board in his attic, he was only happy to do it. Something he learned during his stints over the years was that the path to achieving a perfect high was long, narrow, and often times daunting. But it was always worth the trouble, and more often than not, it could be very, very enjoyable…
On a warm Friday afternoon in April, Jared sat at the far back of his Calculus class, his eyes glazed over. His attention stayed riveted to the teacher, one Mr. Harris, a man only in his mid-twenties; new to the school and still new to teaching in general. Though he had good credentials, he hadn't acquired that 'teacher sense' yet when it came to students being up to no good, and Jared was happy for it.
Below his desk, his fist moved wantonly over his bare erection, keeping a pace more suited for alone time in his room. The constant crackling of paper and tapping of pencils sheltered the sound of his activity, and it wasn't by mistake that he chose this particular class to attempt his newest risk. There were a couple of reasons, but one stood out more than the rest. Though the girls seated next to him quivered in anticipation, he only had eyes for one person.
As Mr. Harris explained theories and formulas, Jared watched him like a wolf stalking its prey. Who could blame him? Their teacher was super easy on the eyes. His face still held the innocence of youth when he smiled, his eyes gleaming amethysts under a curtain of silken gold, his skin like supple velvet. The man had a bad tendency of shuffling a student's hand aside once he grew impatient trying to explain a particular problem. Jared wasn't a bad student, he knew how to do things, but that first touch had been addicting, and he made sure to keep fucking up just to have a brush of contact. Even now, he pretended that the hand stroking him was larger and warm, the fingertips smooth with scholarly practice. The small fantasy almost brought a moan to his lips, his head tilting in appreciation as Mr. Harris expertly erased an old problem from the whiteboard, his hips shaking with the abrupt movement. Try as he might, Jared couldn't help but wonder what that round ass would look like bare and quivering beneath him, and as he worked himself faster, a glob of come oozed down his fingers. One of the girls swallowed audibly; he ignored her.
By then his palm was reasonably wet, and it was a rightful miracle that no one paid him any mind. With his blatant staring coupled with wishful fantasies, Jared found himself biting into his bottom lip to keep from breathing hard. He didn't want it to be over, but the more Mr. Harris smiled or brushed stray strands of hair from his jawline behind the curve of his delicate ear, the more Jared began to fear that the end was near. Luckily, he came prepared.
Once Mr. Harris' back was turned to the class, Jared retrieved his safety net and quickly slid it over himself. With eyes glued to the man's backside and slender thighs, Jared squeezed and massaged, imagining his favorite fantasy of doggy styling the guy on a bed made of fluffy pillows. He pretended that the pressure was the tight warmth of his hole as he pounded into it, the latex slip his shuddering muscles.
He couldn't help the pant of breath he gave as Mr. Harris smiled cutely at someone in the first row asking an intelligent question, his pointer finger slowly tracing the skin of his pink lips. He longed, longed, longed to lay claim to that very mouth, to lick it and suck on it and kiss it till he begged for sweet mercy. His hips heaved, causing his chair to skid forward loudly, his balls seizing up in warning.
Mr. Harris glanced directly at him, piercing him straight through with his keen eyes, and though Jared knew he was seconds away from being caught, he hurriedly thumbed his head until his length spasmed and filled the slip with burning hot come. He let out a shallow breath as the blond called him by name. Jared could only imagine he looked like he just had a full work-out, and in a way, he kinda did.
"Sorry," he said in a voice thankfully even-tempered and cool, "my butt's getting numb."
Mr. Harris pursed his lips amid the snickers, hands planted on his hips in a shrewd fashion. "Well tell your bum to wait five more minutes."
Jared mock saluted him. Mr. Harris shook his head, and taking notice of the time, began assigning homework. Taking advantage of the scramble for planners, Jared eased off the used condom and tied it off with skilled fingers. It went into his pocket only in the chance someone saw him trying to sneak it into his backpack, and after stuffing himself back in his pants, he sat up straight as though nothing happened. In acknowledgment of his audience, he snuck a sideways wink to the girl on his right.
"-and don't forget, test next week." Annoyed groans met Mr. Harris' words; he merely smiled, as though their misery amused him. Jared could appreciate that sentiment. "My door is always open," he hinted, though his next words were drowned by the bell ringing and everyone jumping out of their seats to hurry home.
A bit lethargic, Jared got up more slowly than the others. The girls at his sides gave him lingering looks, but he shook his head at them, hoping they'd get the hint to back off. They didn't.
"Jared, a word?" Mr. Harris had approached the lingering trio.
The girls stalked off, annoyed, when Jared nodded and set down his bag. Mr. Harris waited until they were completely out of the room before rounding on his wayward student, his kind face putting Jared at ease. For a second, he thought he might be in trouble…
"You looked like you needed a rescue."
Stunned, Jared stared back at him. Intelligent, sweet, and a cool teacher? Jackpot. "Um, yeah I did," he said after a moment. "Thanks."
Mr. Harris inclined his head, allowing long strands of hair to tickle his cheeks. "Please don't forget to study for the test; I don't want to see you again next year."
"Oh no worry about that," Jared laughed, hefting up his bag, "I could do this shit in my sleep."
Unlike the other teachers who'd reprimand him for cussing, Mr. Harris simply observed him. "That so? Then why do you call me over all… the time?" Jared tried not to flinch as the man gazed at him in thought. "You understood the lesson for today?"
"Yup."
As though reading through a lie, Mr. Harris grinned and sat on the edge of one of the desks, the picture of elegance. "Enlighten me, what was the topic?"
"Something about derivatives, compound formulas, and convergent sequences," Jared responded without thinking.
As expected, Mr. Harris laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Much like a giddy schoolgirl, Jared felt his cheeks blush in pleasure. "Good guess, but no. Try hyperbolic trigonometry and its functions."
Jared pretended to pull a face of confusion. "Trig? I thought this was geo."
"It's calculus you goof." By then Mr. Harris was fighting to stifle his chuckles. It puffed up Jared's ego that he could make him laugh, and so easily, too; it took all of his willpower not to reach forward and twirl his fingers through his golden hair, knowing it'd be soft to the touch. "The functions are important for later."
"If you say so, man."
His teacher regarded him with a half-smirk. "You weren't paying attention," he accused, as though talking to an old buddy. "Looking at girls?"
It was hard not to laugh at the assumption. "Girls aren't worth my time." He let that sink in for a minute before straightening up. "Well, I'ma get going."
Mr. Harris looked as though he wanted to say something, but only wished him a good weekend.
Yeah, it would be, Jared thought wistfully, if I could go home with you.