Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/571836.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Isaac_Lahey/Jackson_Whittemore
  Character:
      Jackson_Whittemore, Isaac_Lahey, Mr._Lahey, Victoria_Argent, Erica_Reyes,
      Vernon_Boyd
  Additional Tags:
      Mutilation, Physical_Abuse, Teacher-Student_Relationship, Alternate
      Universe_-_Human, Hurt/Comfort, Consensual_Infidelity
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-24 Words: 19630
****** New Starts and Old Scars ******
by gladucame, vkdemon
Summary
     How life-altering can a one-night-stand be on the scale from 1 to
     police-involvement? Jackson is about to find out when his student,
     Isaac Lahey, approaches him.
Notes
     Warnings: emotional and physical abuse, underage, violence,
     mutilation, teacher/student, h/c, infidelity
Friday was on the school again and you could feel it in the air. Jackson
watched his students gaze out of windows, squirm as they checked their texts,
and generally made all the signals they wanted to leave as soon as possible.
Which is exactly why Jackson was the kind of teacher to slap his recalcitrant
students with a pop-quiz. Their groans were enough to fuel his willingness to
do grading over the weekend.
As usual, the same students finished early, both the student with the best
grades and the worst had flipped the quiz over looking ready to leave. They had
to wait for every other student. Much like a bell curve the bulk finished
around the same time, causing a small hurricane of flipping papers. And finally
the stragglers brought up the rear. Jackson had a stack of essays from the week
before and set them each on the first desk of the row.
"Pass up your tests and pass back the essays. There will be no changes to that
grade."Jackson smiled at the sound of hopeless groans. At 24, he finally
understood the joy his teachers had gotten from torturing students. "No
homework, go have a good weekend."
The class was clearing out, grim face of his colleagues disappearing in the
hall as the lesson ended. Last class of the day, last opportunity to beg
himself into a sleep over. And he failed. Apparently people don’t enjoy last
minute adjustments to their weekend schedules, imagine that. Isaac sighed over
his D-graded essay as the nervous fluttering in his stomach grew stronger. He
couldn’t come back home with this, on top of the bad news his father received
this morning about payment-cuts affecting the swim team’s budget. He looked up
at the rest of class. It was almost empty, save for a teacher who was getting
ready to leave as well... A crazy thought popped up in his mind. “Sir! I have a
question!” Isaac jumped from his seat, grabbing books and his bag.
"No, I will not tell you when the next pop quiz will be." Jackson chuckled as
he tucked his regular wire rimed glasses into their glasses case and pulled out
his Rayban designer sunglasses. This was his last class of the day. "Have a
real question?"
“Y-yes...” Isaac cleared his throat. Somehow Mr Whittemore managed to look even
hotter without the cute geeky glasses. “I just... What are you doing tonight?”
Jackson raised his eyebrows over his sunglasses. "That's not one of the 6
questions a teacher gets asked. Why don't you tell me why you want to know?"
Isaac felt his cheeks heating up. God, this was a disaster. “You’re really
attractive,” he managed to say, hyper aware of what would happen if he won’t
play it well. He was not coming home tonight, nope. And December wasn’t the
best time to sleep on a bench in park.
"Have you got a little crush on your teacher? Very cute. And a pretty normal
kink." Jackson rolled the conversation right off his shoulder as he pulled up
his bag. "And incredibly risky."
Isaac relaxed. He knew Mr Whittemore was not like the others. Because he was
pretty sure any other adult he knew would yell or run away by now. “You never
seemed like a man who plays it safe,” Isaac grinned. And yeah, maybe he was
crushing on the man a little -or hopelessly- considering the flip his heart
made at the glint in Mr Whittemore eyes.
"Observant, but the quiet ones always are. Look. I'm not into relationships.
I'm not against a one-night stand. Or even a few recurring nights. But these
things don't last." Jackson tried to impress the seriousness onto the boy. "Not
to mention the whole statutory aspect."
“I’m over the age of consent already,” Isaac blurted out and blushed again.
“Not that I’m sleeping around or something, I’ve never, um...”
"Most kids would be at the winter formal tonight. Not propositioning their
teachers." Jackson clicked his tongue at Isaac. "Tell you what, we are going to
my place and I'll dance with you there and then we'll fuck." Jackson shrugged
and opened the door for Isaac. "And that's it. Take it or leave it."
Isaac nearly choked on his spit. “We’re going to... Just like that?” He
followed the teacher mindlessly out of the classroom, stunned at how well his
seduction went.
"First times are never what you imagine they will be. Trust me." Jackson walked
toward the parking lot.
Isaac’s body walked to the car on its own accord as his mind ruminated over the
situation he got himself into. It’s not like he didn’t want to have sex with Mr
Whittemore, he’d like it very much, actually, but the scenarios he imagined
didn’t include sneaking his way into the man’s bed to have guaranteed warm bed
at night. But c’est la vie and all that. He seated himself in the car. “How was
your first time?” He asked surprising himself more than the other man.
"In the backseat of my car at make-out point." He rolled his shoulders as if
getting rid of a bad memory. He started up the car and peeled out of the
teacher's lot. "Nothing special. I don't even remember her name."
“Oh...” Isaac’s eyes focused on the road. He bit his lips and dared a glance at
his teacher. “I’ll make sure you’ll remember mine,” he said with a cocky little
smile. He might hold his teacher to that promise of a ‘few recurring
nightstands’.
"So what's your kink? You want to keep calling me Mr. Whittemore or you want to
call me Jackson?" He was grinning out of one side of his mouth at the adorable
cockiness. Isaac reminded him of himself back in school.
“You mean, what I’m into?” Isaac relaxed in his seat. He still felt a little
awkward discussing sex with someone he idolized for a year now. “Nothing in
particular, I think. ”
"Well I have a nice sized box of playthings if you want to check it out." He
smirked and pulled into the garage of a nice-sized house on Elm. "Or we could
go right to the soft music and kissing."
Isaac licked his lips. “I’d like that,” he said quietly. “Oh, are we already
here?”
"Easy commute." Jackson grinned and pocketed his keys. "Come on, kiddo." He
walked into the house proper and waved an arm.
“Wow, it’s nice in here,” Isaac looked around surprised. He didn’t want to come
across as rude, but curiosity poked him to ask how a High School teacher could
afford a place like this. But that could spoil the mood and it was the last
thing Isaac wanted in the whole world. He smiled at Jackson when he caught his
eyes. “So... Are you going to ask me if I wanted something to drink or get down
to the business?”
"No drinking. I'm not a completely evil old man." Jackson shrugged off his
jacket and hung it up into the coat closet.
“Oh, like you waited with alcohol until 21?” Isaac stepped up with a coy smile
and reached trembling hand to the man’s arm.
"No, but I don't encourage it." Jackson looked down at the long fingers and
grinned. He brought up the hand to his mouth and kissed his quivering digits.
"You have such pretty eyes."
Isaac’s face darkened for a second as if reminiscing an unpleasant memory. The
moment passed as quickly as it came, with Isaac lurching at Jackson and
pressing his lips to the teacher's.
Jackson wrapped an arm around the boy's lower back. He kept that smirk on
through the kisses and found his free hand in the curls to gently guide his
head to the side. He licked at Isaac's lower lip.
Isaac moaned and leaned his body into the other man’s. He wanted to focus on
the kiss, his first boy-kiss, his mind screamed, but his teacher’s experience
was making him self conscious. He had no idea how hook ups like this go. Should
he be more aggressive? They hadn't even taken their clothes off yet. Yeah, Mr
Whitemore definitely didn’t want to bed a wilting flower. His hands clawed at
Jackson’s shirt, erratically trying to get it off him before moving to tug at
the belt. Damn, he never realized it was hard to undress another person.
Jackson grunted as his hips were tugged at. "Slow down, baby." He pet Isaac's
jaw and then took his hand. "Come on, let's go to the bedroom first."
Isaac nodded eagerly, staring at their joined hands. They were hand-holding.
Well, sort of. He swallowed the selfish need to ask his teacher if he ever bent
his no romantic attachments rule. He knew what he agreed on when getting into
the car.
The bedroom he led Isaac to was almost a bordello room. It was decked in black
and red bedding with long hanging drapes. There was nothing terribly personal
on the walls, it was all Asian inspired calligraphy and paintings. The set up
screamed player.
"Here we are."
Isaac tried not to gape to much. He busied himself with attempting to take off
his shirt and simultaneously unzip pants.
Jackson unbuttoned his shirt nice and slow, watching the boy stumble over
himself. "You have a good body, Lacrosse keeps you fit..." He noticed the lines
of old scars on Isaac's back but didn't say anything. This wasn't the time.
Isaac smiled his 1000 vat smile while hopping off his pants. “Well, I had
someone tell me I’m cute,” he said coming up to the man. The smile dimmed when
he realized Mr. Whittemore must have a good sight of his back. Shit. He’s going
to be thrown away. Mr No-Emotional-Attachment surely didn’t want to deal with
anything out of ordinary. “You’re wearing awfully a lot of clothes,” he
repeated a line heard once in a movie, giving his best sultry look.
"Oh yeah, sexy? Why don't you remedy that for me?" Jackson dropped his shirt
off his shoulders and popped the top button of his slacks. He crooked his
finger at Isaac.
“Um...” Blankness. That’s all Isaac had in mind. “Yeah, I know just the way to
make it aaaall better,” he slipped into his role again and kneed in front of
the man, wincing at what he just said. He grabbed the material and tugged it
harshly down revealing black skin-tight underwear. Make or break time, he
thought reaching for the waistband with determination written on his face.
"Take your time, Beautiful." Jackson ran a hand into those curls as he watched
the set of Isaac's jaw. It was adorable how serious boy was taking this. "You
ready for what's inside?"
“Sure I am,” Isaac smiled weakly looking up at the man. As the cock sprung free
he took a deep breath. It wasn’t as long as men’s in movies but he still
wondered how the hell is he going to fit it in his mouth. Or... elsewhere.
Isaac straightened his back and took the organ in hand, positioning the head
before his lips.
Jackson pet behind Isaac's ear. "You're doing well. Open your mouth, I'll do
the rest."
Isaac locked his eyes with Jackson’s and let the head of the cock disappear
between his lush lips. The weight felt velvety on his tongue.
Jackson groaned and smiled down at the boy. His left hand trailed the curve of
Isaac's jaw. His other hand went around the back of Isaac's neck. "Take a
little more."
Isaac obeyed. He let the cock out of his mouth to gather more saliva and then
drew it in as far as he felt comfortable with. It felt weird, he wasn’t used to
having his jaw stretched so awkwardly and didn’t really know what he should do,
so he started bobbing his head as he saw in porn in the same boring tenacious
manner.
Jackson knew where the kid was getting his moves from. He tipped it off with
the cheesy Skinimax lines. "Stop. This isn't a show. Lick, suck, nuzzle,
whatever you think you want to. You don't even need to be down there if it
doesn't appeal." Jackson was using the same playful teaching voice he used in
class.
Isaac let the cock out with a loud ‘pop’. “I’m sorry. I can do better,” he
mumbled embarrassed. “I want this. I want you to feel good.”
"It does. It's better when you're relaxed and not trying so hard to be a porn
star." He laughed and shook his head. "On the bed, let's take a step back."
Isaac smiled gratefully and stood up, following the man to the bed. He briefly
considered pushing him over on the surface. Nope. He shook his head. Not a
show. Just a love struck idiot and his teacher having quick fun. He sat down
admiring the lines of Jackson’s body. “So how many hours per day do you spend
in gym?” He teased.
Jackson slid on the bed, his underwear and undershirt abandoned on the floor.
He patted up space beside him, so Isaac would lay instead of sit. "I run a mile
in the morning before school and do workouts for an hour and half four days a
week. Two hours on Saturday."
Isaac’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s awfully a lot of time. I guess when you’re
old you need to take better care of your health,” he added with a grin.
Jackson pinched Isaac's hip. "Don't disrespect your sexy elders. I work off
tension from teaching you brats."
“I don’t think I have ever cause you trouble in class so far,” Isaac crawled to
Jackson and straddled him.
"You're a whole curly haired bundle of trouble. Good thing it's the kind I
like." He arched up under his student to rub them together. "Come down here and
kiss me, brat."
Isaac tensed. “Could you... not call me that?”
Jackson's seduction grin dropped. His eyebrow drew together and his hand came
up to cup Isaac's cheek. "Of course. What do you enjoy being called?"
“Something...nice,” he said feeling childish and stupid. “Unless you want to...
I mean I don’t care that much,” he hurried to say. How boring he must seem to
that man.
"Beautiful, Sexy, Baby, Isaac, Curly. Any of those sound good?" Jackson's
seducing grin was back on.
Isaac responded with his regular wide smile. “They’ll do,” he said and leaned
in to kiss Jackson slowly. He hand explored the man’s chest still a little
timid to wander lower after his failed attempt at blowjob.
Jackson kept his body still, letting the younger boy explore him. "Touch
anywhere." He breathed it right against Isaac's lips before sucking the boy's
lower lip into his mouth.
Isaac’s hand sneaked between their bodies to graze over Jackson’s cock. The
angle was weird. He dropped on the other man’s chest and settled for grinding
his clothed groin into Jackson instead.
"You should be wearing less." He groaned into Isaac's ear as his semi started
to fill at the rutting.
“Well, no one cared enough to undress me, so...” Isaac said playfully and
nibbed at Jackson’s neck.
"Your teacher gave you an instruction, Lahey. You should follow it and be a
good boy." Jackson grinned like a devil even as his head tilted to give Isaac
more neck access.
Isaac moaned softly at the words. “Yes, sir.” He rolled off the man and quickly
pulled the underwear off. The satin sheets felt cold on the skin of his
stomach. Isaac looked at Jackson through his long eyelashes. “Better?”
"Beautiful. Turn around on the bed so I can take a closer look. I think you're
longer than me." He licked his lips at the boy.
Isaac did as told biting his bottom lip again. Geez, by the end of the night it
would be tattered. He caressed Jackson’s arm as the man loomed over him.
Jackson wrapped a hand around Isaac, taking a single pump of his cock before
using the tips of his fingers to pet the length. "Very hot. You're not a kid at
all, are you, Isaac?"
Isaac shut his eyes tightly. “No, sir...,” he moaned. “Please, do that again,
please.”
"I like when you call me Sir. It's so proper." He trailed a finger from his
base, over the thick vein at the bottom, up to swirl over his wet tip. "You
like?"
“Mh-mm yes, sir,” Isaac accented the last word with a cheeky grin. His hands
wrapped around the man’s arms and pulled him closer. He scratched the skin
lightly. “How do you feel about marks?”
"Keep blood out of it and nothing above the collar and I am very very pro
marking." Jackson's skin rose in goose-flesh from the scratches, causing a
enjoyable little shiver.
“Good,” Isaac murmured and sucked over his collarbone until the flesh reddened
into a thin hickey. He licked at it, satisfied with being able to tell Jackson
will have some proof this happened. One of his hands came back to Jackson’s
cock and wrapped around it in loose grip. “Tell me what you like.”
Jackson squirmed as Isaac concentrated on marking him. He enjoyed marks, little
tokens of passion left behind. They faded before Jackson could start to worry
about attachment and get himself worked up. "Tighter."
Isaac squeezed the member watching Jackson’s face closely. He worked it in his
hand, welcoming every moan. A thought occurred to him. “Do you want... is this
how we’re going to go about this?”
Jackson's hips were thrusting into the tight fist of Isaac's hand. He hand to
stop the movement to concentrate enough to answer. "How do you want to?"
“I don’t know.” Isaac continued the pace. “I’m okay with this. And more. I
just... like to know what’s coming.”
"For now, this. I'll take you in my mouth when you get closer to coming." He
licked his own hand and wrapped it around Isaac. He pumped the boys length in
tempo to Isaac's touches.
“Oh god,” Isaac closed his eyes at the imaginary. “So,” he started after taking
a moment to compose himself. “Can you come more than once too, old man?” He
asked with a cocky grin.
"I'm no teen." His mouth finds Isaac's neck to nibble on. "But I can keep up.
You want to make me come, baby boy?"
Isaac’s hand sneaked into the man’s hair as he exposed his throat for him.
“God, yes,” he mumbled. “And I want to see you.”
"Yes, Sir." Jackson teased as his body arched up toward his student. "It won't
be long, Beautiful."
The boy sat up between Jackson’s legs and sped up his hand glancing from
Jackson’s groin to his face. “Fuck, this is so hot. You are. So hot.” He locked
his eyes with the man, in awe of all the emotions visible on his face.
Jackson grinned as his back arched for Isaac.His eyes fluttered closed for a
moment. Each pull of Isaac's hand brought him closer to the edge. Jackson
cupped both of Isaac's cheeks.
He kissed the man’s palm. God, he pictured something like this countless times
but reality surpassed all his expectations. “Please, come now, I want you to
shoot all over me, paint me, please, sir.”
Jackson shuddered as he came through Isaac's pleading. He smeared over Isaac's
abs and his own. "Isaac." He didn't scream so much as groan out his lover's
name.
The boys gasped as if somehow surprised with what he asked for. He run fingers
through the semen on his stomach and hold them examining the sticky mess. Then
he tentatively licked his fingers off, groaning at the taste. He laid down next
to Jackson, smiling at him. “You taste weird.”
Jackson snorted at the comment and stretched. An arm came around Isaac's back.
He played his fingers along the nobs of Isaac's spine, his fingers finding
rough scar tissue.
Isaac tensed again. He didn’t like when people touched his scars. But it wasn’t
anywhere near as bad as people making assumptions about them. “I was in a car
accident,” he said hoping it’ll close the topic. Isaac forced a smile and
leaned in to kiss Jackson.
"Okay." Jackson knew that tone. Isaac was hiding something, but it wasn't
Jackson's place to pry. He brushed the back of his knuckles over Isaac's waist.
"Ready for more?"
“Hell yes,” he grinned into the kiss and pressed his body into the other man’s.
“Are you... a top?”
"Mostly, but I tend to enjoy almost anything." Jackson's hands found their way
to Isaac's hips.
Isaac hummed in contentment. “Get lube then. And tell me how to stretch you
because porn always omits that part,” the boy smiled bashfully.
Jackson's smile rose one side at a time. "Top bedside drawer like everyone
else. There's also a flared base plug. It's easier for me with the toy." He
rolled himself onto his stomach to wait for Isaac to come back with the items.
Isaac pulled the aforementioned things trying not to stare too wide-eyed at
other toys the drawer held. The man said something about special box too, which
meant it’s not everything he has. Well. Isaac swallowed wondering if he’ll get
to try the things out with Jackson. He smiled at the man and positioned himself
between his legs. His fingers brushed the cheeks and run down a crack. The toy
seemed pretty thin. Isaac lubricated it richly and started massaging the hole
in small circles.
Jackson groaned as the wetness brushed over him. He kept himself in excellent
shape everywhere and even did some heavy man-scaping leaving his perineum and
ass free of hair. "That's good. I'm pretty relaxed already, slip it in a
little."
“Okay,” Isaac voice had a tiny nervous tone to it. The toy went in slowly. He
petted the man’s back with his other hand waiting for any sound of distress but
when it didn’t come he withdrew the plug and pushed it in further, until a
thick ring on the end. “You’re really good at this,” he said in awe.
Jackson's back was tensing and shifting as he took the plug inside. His ass
cheeks flexed as it was finally seated within him. "Practice makes perfect.
That feels good."
Isaac bent to lick a path up the man’s back while one of his hands stayed
between Jackson’s cheeks, gently wiggling the bug around. Isaac sucked and
nibbled at skin until he reached Jackson’s ear. “You think you can take me?”
The teacher smirked and turned his neck so he could reach those teasing lips.
He bit Isaac's lower lip at the same moment he thrust his ass back against his
lover's crotch. "Fuck me, beautiful."
Isaac shivered and pulled the toy out of the man. A package of condom was torn
open and he clumsily tugged one of them on his member. He looked up at Jackson.
“Get on your back, please,” he nearly whispered. “I want to see you.”
Jackson rolled both shoulders and pushed himself up to his knees. "Sure." He
flopped on over, grinning as he bounced a little. "You ready to show me what
you're made of?"
Isaac smiled nervously. “I’m ready. And careful! I’m definitely going to be
careful. Slow. Don’t worry,” he laughed but it had a little hysteric edge to
it. Isaac moved between Jackson’s legs again, hiking his knees up so he’d wrap
them around his waist.
"Much appreciated." Jackson snorted at the nerves. His legs tightened around
Isaac's waist. "Get in me already."
“Yeah. Sure.” Isaac pushed his hips forward watching the head of his cock
disappearing into Jackson with solemn focus written on his face. When he was
finally fully inside the man, he allowed himself to breath.
"Good boy." Jackson laughed gently at the concentration on Isaac's face. "It
feels good, baby. You can enjoy yourself a little."
“I am,” Isaac said quietly, settling over the man so he could catch his lips.
“Believe me I am,” he laughed a little, the adrenaline and endorphins taking
over. His hips rolled up, harder than before. Isaac leaned in to kiss his
lover.
"God." Jackson groaned into Isaac's mouth. It had been a few lovers since
anyone had topped him. The feel of his rim rubbing and spreading on the cock
was driving him mad. "More. Come on, faster."
Isaac obeyed, groaning as his hips sped up thrusting into Jackson. The tight
heat was nearly unbearable, keeping him close to edge but not allowing him to
fall over it. He hid his head in the crook of the man’s neck, basically laying
on top of him to get closer.
Jackson let out low growls as his ass lifted off the bed by Isaac's hips. He
gripped his hands on the headboard. The muscles of Jackson's arms tensed as he
kept himself from being fucked any further up on the bed. His cock couldn't
fill again so fast, but his body was washed in pleasure from the earlier peak
and Isaac's cock.
The pace of Isaac’s thrusts turned into frantic, desperate need overriding his
sense of control. His hands clenched on the sheets and he sealed his teeth on
Jackson’s shoulder. “Fuck, I can’t... you...”
Jackson arched hard under the bite. "Come in me." Jackson pressed a kiss at
Isaac's temple. "Come, Baby."
Issac stopped. His body relaxed against Jackson and he shuddered with a soft
sighed. The boy didn’t move for a moment but when he leaned up his cheeks were
colored bright red by embarrassment. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to come so
fast. I’ll make it up to you,” he smiled, eyes stilled a little hazed. He
wrapped a hand around Jackson’s cock and started working over it, still half
laying on the man.
"Ahhn." It wasn't a coherent noise, but Jackson could hardly control it as
Isaac tugged his sensitive cock.
“Is it too much?” Isaac looked up with worry. “Maybe you should jerk off, just
like you like it.” He reached further and slipped two fingers into Jackson’s
hole.
"Just sensitive." Jackson comforted Isaac and pet his hands down his cock. "A
little inward."
Isaac crooked his fingers, spreading them a little. His lips found Jackson’s.
“Hmm, I could draw out something like this for a long while, you know,” he
murmured pushing into him.
"Oh!" Jackson arched off the bed when Isaac's long fingers found his prostate
gland. "Fuck, baby. Keep doing that."
“Yes, sir.” Normally he’d think the sir-baby thing would be creepy but... The
way Jackson gasped out the term was fucking hot. Isaac thrust in and out of the
man, occasionally changing angle or pulling at the ring of muscles. The boy
watched Jackson’s face closely, fascinated by the way man’s eyes fluttered
close every time his fingers run over his prostate.
Jackson's body arched and squirmed to Isaac's playing. He felt like a guitar
being plucked by the boy. "F...fuck. Isaac."
“Yeeees?” Isaac nuzzled his nose into his chest playfully. “I’m not that bad in
bed, I take it?”
"Not if you keep that up." Jackson laughed even as his toes curled. "Fuck. God,
baby keep that up and I'm gonna blow."
“Good,” Isaac giggled. He never thought atmosphere in bed can be so... light.
He sat up to focus on moving his fingers under the right angle while his other
hand petted Jackson’s body. “Jesus, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled, eyes
shooting between Jackson’s face and hands, jerking his dick in short loose
tugs.
"I know." He let out that cocky little smirk before that spot was rubbed over
again. He was about to go right over the edge again. "Fuck, fuck." Jackson's
free hand pulled up the mattress on the side of the bed as his seed shot over
his chest.
Isaac laughed falling on the bed next to the man and snuggling close to him.
“And full of himself too,” he teased leaving soft brush of lips on Jackson’s
cheek and throat.
Jackson went limp, enjoying the sweet kisses as he floated through the bliss.
The bed fell back down on the frame as he released it. He rumbled his happiness
without actually speaking.
The men fell asleep embracing each other.
~~~
The bed was just so comfortable and Jackson’s body so warm... He didn’t want to
leave. Ever. Isaac rubbed at his eyes and flopped on his back, releasing his
teacher from the snuggle. A startling awareness began to shove its way through
his hazed mind. “What hour is it?” Isaac asked suddenly looking around for a
clock.
Jackson was awake, his clean hand had been petting Isaac's curls as he enjoyed.
He couldn't sleep beside a lover, he hadn't ever been able to trust anyone that
much, but he'd let Isaac stay in the bed. It had been more than obvious the boy
had gone without solid sleep for a few nights. He stopped himself from smiling
too wide as Isaac woke. "Somewhere around 8 am. Have plans?"
“Oh shit,” Isaac nearly jumped off the bed. “It can’t be this late, it can’t.”
He grabbed his boxers and shirt, unsuccessfully trying to put them on at the
same time.
"Woah. Isaac, deep breath." The boy looked ready to have a stroke. "What's the
hurry?"
Issac tugged the jeans on harshly. “I should be home. I can explain the night,
but now I should really...” Finally dressed, he halted the erratic movements.
“I‘m sorry. I really liked this. See you Monday?” He smiled tightly.
"This was fun." The over-used line felt wrong the moment he said it. It felt
cheap, but it was familiar and didn't let his emotions get in trouble. "I'll
see you at school, Isaac..."
“Yeah,” Isaac’s smile this time was bright and hopeful. “See you at school.”
~~~~
Monday morning, Jackson walked into class, waiting for the inevitable
confrontation. He would have to shoot Isaac down and re-establish status quo.
Par for the course when dealing with a teen. Except, Isaac never came in his
class that day.
Or the next.
Jackson wandered his way oh so casually down to the administrators office. He
flashed his winning grin at the short haired middle aged Victoria Argent, who
worked at the attendance roster and telephones. "Mrs. Argent. You look
ravishing this morning."
The woman arched an eyebrow, the only sight that she heard the greeting. “Mr
Whittemore. You look unnecessary chipper.”
"It goes so well with my unnecessary good looks. I was wondering if you could
check on a student's attendance for me?"
“Why, did you lose a student somewhere?” She murmured. The silent feud between
Argent family and Jackson’s friend, Hale, was no secret in Beacon Hills. The
woman turned to her computer screen nevertheless the cold attitude. “Named?”
"Isaac Lahey. I think he might be ditching a pop quiz of mine. Last two days."
“Ah, that one.” Mrs Argent sighed knowingly. “His father called yesterday to
excuse him. He’s been indisposed apparently. Flu, or whatever.” She took a sip
of coffee leaving a smudge of dark lipstick on the cup. “Pretty sickly, that
kid.”
"What do you mean? I guess he ditches as often as any boy." Jackson rubbed his
hands, remembering the scars his fingers had traced on Isaac's skin.
The woman muffled an undignified scoff with a chuckle. “I don’t think any
parent would willingly allow their child to miss school. At least not as often.
Do you need anything else?”
"No. As long as it's medical I can hold the quiz for him. Mind doing me another
favor, Gorgeous?" He flashed that smile again.
“Of course,” she smiled sweetly. “You know how I love to have you in debt.”
"You are pure evil and I love it. Can I get Isaac's address? I'll have one of
the kids bring his homework around to him."
“Doesn’t he have friends there?” She tsked. “You’ll own me for this. Big time,”
the woman smirked handling him freshly printed page.
"I'm sure you'll take it out of my hide soon." He grabbed her hand and kissed
it like the school flirt he was known to be. He folded the paper into his
jacket pocket. He would wait until the weekend. If Isaac didn't show up by
Friday he'd go check in on him. For Isaac's sake...
As if someone could read his intentions, the next day he found Isaac seated on
his regular spot, shoulders hunched over book he was apparently reading.
Jackson let out a breath he never realized he'd been holding. He waited until
the end of class before speaking. "Mr. Lahey, see me after class for your make-
up work."
Isaac came up to the desk, eyes still casted downside. “Do you do that with
everyone who wasn’t in school for a while?” He straightened finally and looked
at him. “If not, people might think it’s suspicious.” He looked at the half
open door and added whispering. “And I might think you missed me.”
"Yes, I do. I'm notorious about make-up work." He didn't reach out, but the
fading bruise on Isaac's cheek called to him. "You were gone. Why."
Isaac rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing. Neighbour’s son and I aren’t exactly
friends. And this time, as you can see, he won. I didn’t want to go to school
because I’d be useless during practise anyway.”
"Ah. Well good to see you're back in school. Don't ditch academics for the sake
of being embarrassed on the field." He turned to pick up a small stapled
together stack. "You do have make-up work."
Isaac’s hand reached for the papers. “Cool. Thanks.” He looked the man in the
eyes. “Is that all?”
"Yes..." No clinging, no attempts to sneak another touch. This didn't make
sense. "If it's something else, not just the neighborhood kid... you will tell
me, right?"
Isaac’s eyebrows shot up. “Why would I lie about something silly like this?”
His smile had a thin layer of fakeness to it. “Oh, I see, you’re getting all
teacherly and protective. No, every thing's fine. Look, I better go. I have a
make-up test for Mr. Greenberg. And he’s never around, so that’s my only
chance.”
Jackson watched Isaac's eyes, looking for any deception. It was there, but who
would have looked hard enough to see it? No one. Every teacher knew children
came from all kinds of homes, that some of them were hurting... But they never
expected to actually meet those children. "Go ahead..."
~~~
Parent-teacher conferences were always a fun time for any teacher. It was a
grand opportunity to let yourself get put on the spot for their bad parenting.
He organized his folders of info, reviewing each before the parent came in. It
wasn't easy, but his smile and charm glazed him through the most critical and
was a hit with all the single mothers. He waved the next parent in, Isaac
Lahey's file was now on top. A cold chill ran down his spine.
"Mr. Lahey." Jackson greeted his colleague. "How is the swim team? I hear
you’re pulling toward second in the state."
“Mr Whittemore, hello,” Lahey shook his hand. “I had the luck of getting some
great athletes this year. Even if we don’t get that second place, some of them
will definitely shine in individual competitions.” The man sat in front of the
desk. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re not here to talk about swimming,” Lahey smiled
apologetically.
"Nothing wrong with a little talk before we get started." Jackson was smiling,
trying to put together his suspicions about Isaac's home-life with the man who
was his colleague. Mr. Lahey never seemed unhinged. He was a little rough as a
coach, but no more than Flintstock or any of the others at the school. "I have
Isaac for my 6th period AP English Literature. A very quiet, well behaved
student."
Lahey nodded. “Good to hear my boy isn’t making you any trouble. I raised him
right,” he smiled, but there was an unsetting edge to his words.
Jackson shifted at that sound. "I do have a few concerns about his attendance.
He's gone a lot of the time. I don't want to cause waves, but I've noticed some
bruises on him. Do you know if he's being bullied after school?"
“I doubt it. He gets into fights sometimes. Boys will be boys, right?” The man
didn’t break eye contact. “I can assure you his absence happens only when
necessary. He has too many... extra after-school activities,” the voice gained
derisive quality, “so I won’t let anything affect his grades.”
"I'm a little concerned about his social life. He doesn't seem to have friends
in his grade." Jackson pried, knowing that the question was touching closer to
his own complicated interest in Isaac. What teen would seek out a teacher with
what seemed like a far too advanced understanding of one-night stand
arrangements? Was it a cry for help? And help against what?
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it?” Lahey’s face morphed back
into polite indifference. “I can’t exactly ask my swimming team to hang out
with Isaac. Kids would laugh at him. He’s not very outgoing, an introvert, you
see. Never complained about lack of friends to me.”
"I suspect there’s a lot of things he doesn't feel he can tell you. Teen boys,
right?" He smiled, the unsettled feeling churned in his stomach.
Lahey leaned in a little. “You can be sure I know everything important about
what’s going on with him.”
Jackson sneered right back at Mr. Lahey, the air between the two men went
tense. "Do you? Sounds like there's something on your chest."
“You want me to share? Because I can do it. If you’ll have any more concerns
regarding Isaac’s life outside of school,” the man said, the threat in his
voice was as loud as words.
"Where does he get the bruises, Mr. Lahey? Or the scars? Is it sharing time?
Because we can exchange some juicy tidbits." Jackson really should be more
cautious, but the man before him had been a mentor. He couldn't look up to an
abuser.
“I don’t think you understand, Whittemore,” Lahey said slowly. “I let it slide
that you fucked my underage son because he begged me to not go to the police.
But I can always change my mind if you won’t stay away from him.”
Jackson's eyes went wide. Underage... He'd never bothered to check if Isaac's
birthday had passed. He was in the Senior class so he just took the boy at his
word. Which was a lie. Just like the promise not to tell. Another lie. "I don't
have any intention of touching him again. I am concerned that him being home
for two days had everything to do with your parenting and nothing to do with
some school yard bully. You like to use the belt on him or do you like getting
your hands on his throat better?"
Lahey stood up abruptly, the chair’s legs scratched over the floor. “I think
we’re done here. I’m not going to listen to insults from some pedophile.” He
walked to the door and turned right before leaving. “I thought better of you.”
"Same here." Jackson shot back right before the door shut behind the man.
~~~
Isaac expected things to be bad. The knowledge about inevitable meeting between
his father and his lover slash teacher tugged at his nerves for days. He
imagined the talk that could go down, catalogued every possible scenario during
sleepless night before That Day, and prepared himself for the worst.
The worst didn’t come.
Isaac didn’t like when things turned out different from what he expected. He
felt like he should be glad when his dad came from school calm and silent, and
Mr Whittemore wasn’t brought up at all, but the status quo made him restless.
He knew things are going to blow up some day and the anticipation tied his
stomach into a knot. The fact that he had to face the teacher the next day
wasn’t helping.
Nevertheless, he came to the class, sat on his usual spot and tried being
invisible. And not meeting Jackson’s eyes. It worked well so far.
Mr. Whittemore didn't pay special attention to Isaac. His eyes slid over the
boy as he taught, just like any day before they had been in eachother's arms.
The quiz results were handed back. Carefully clipped to the back of the last
page of Isaac's test was a slip of paper. It simply said Isaac's birth-date in
red ink. December 12th. A date after he'd slept with Mr. Whittemore.
Isaac looked at his paper. The grade was satisfying. He went through the test
numbly noticing the places in which he made mistakes. Until he turned to the
last page. “Shit...” His eyes went wide and he looked around mortified to find
out the curse turned some heads. He smiled awkwardly and slipped the results
into his book.
Jackson listened to the collective groans and huffs of his class. It was always
the same after test results. "For those of you concerned about your abysmal
grade I'm offering exactly one make up. Tomorrow. On a topic that I will pull
from the last 6 chapters. It's voluntary. Good luck, kids." He dismissed the
class.
Isaac went along with others, leaving the room before he could get called by
Jackson. He walked down the corridor, deep in thoughts. Did the man find out by
himself? No, that couldn’t be a coincidence. So that’s what his father’s
playing at. Isaac rubbed at his eyes and made a sudden turn to left,
disappearing in boy’s locker room. It was a safe haven so early in the day,
empty and silent. He sat on the bench and hid his head in his hands. He didn’t
mean to bring troubles on Mr Whittemore. Fuck, he should have known silly
things like crushes are not for someone like him.
Jackson didn't follow Isaac. If the boy didn't want to explain it then it was
over. He gathered his bag and made his way back to his apartment. He booted up
his computer and started on making the extra credit test. He rolled his neck,
deciding on a night cap to tide him over. One small glass of wine turned into
four. His quiet night turned into him getting another two shots down at the
local bar and a third earned him a bathroom fondling with some brunette he'd
never recognize in the light of day.
~~~~
Spring was coming, you could feel it in the air. Isaac liked spring. There was
something beautiful and hopeful in witnessing his whole word awakening from a
stupor and blossoming in waves of colors, new and fresh and without a trace of
the grim reality of winter. The spring was nigh, but sadly not quite there yet.
The boy chafed at his hands trying to elicit some phantom warmth. He really
hoped Jackson will show up soon. And won’t turn him away. Not that he didn’t
have a right to it, considering how shitty to him Isaac had been. Yeah, so
maybe at least he could ask for a blanket or a coat. His jacket wasn’t meant to
protect from cold February nights.
Jackson was home from a visit to parent's place. It was filled with a warm
diner and inquiries into his love life. He was calm, if not exhausted from
trying to politely dodge the questions. He knew he was failing them again, but
there was no way he was going to settle down. He pulled out his keys when he
noticed the lanky boy on his porch.
"Isaac? What are you doing here?"
The boy looked up, flinching a little at the harsh tone. He should’ve known
Jackson was pissed at him, he shouldn’t have come at all. He stand up wobbly,
and stepped up to the man, avoiding his eyes. “I just... wanted to apologize. I
know you can get in trouble and it’s all my fault. I’m... sorry.”
"Shut up." Jackson snapped, immediately looking around for any neighbors
listening in. He sighed, unlocked the door and walked in. He left it open for
Isaac to follow him in.
So it was over. He didn’t even want to talk to him. Not when Isaac waited over
a month to say sorry and was going to use the man’s kindness again.
Isaac hugged himself, biting his lip to keep tears at bay. He walked down the
steps leading to street wondering if bus station would be open at this hour and
if he could sleep in it without anyone recognizing him.
"Teenagers." Mr. Whittemore groaned and rubbed his face before having to storm
right back out and haul Isaac by his arm into the house. "You're not dressed
for the outside. Go start up the fire."
Isaac gaped at him for a moment before going farther into the house. Without a
word, he lit pieces laying in the fireplace. He sat there, looking at the
sizzling and burning wood.
A quilt fopped over Jackson’s shoulders. "I'm making hot chocolate."
Isaac turned to him, jolted out of his thoughts. “Jackson... I’m sorry.”
"Just get warm. We'll talk over the drink." He walked back into the kitchen,
finally getting to take off his jacket and scarf. He put the kettle on and sat
himself at the tiny circular wood table that served as his dining room.
Isaac stood up and followed him to the entrance of the kitchen, silently
observing the man from the hall. He didn’t see the kitchen before, but it
looked just as expensive and void of personality as the rest of the house.
Jackson scrubbed a hand through his light brown hair, trying to think this
through. The kid… underage kid whose father knew they had fucked was in his
house. It was incriminating no matter how you sliced it.
The kettle whistled and Isaac shifted behind the door, just peeking into the
room. He didn’t know how to approach the man without making him angrier. He
could have misheard, but Jackson said something about hot chocolate for both of
them. Isaac’s mouth filled with saliva at the thought. He didn’t have chance to
eat dinner.
The kettle brought Jackson's head up. He smiled as best he could to the boy.
"Grab two mugs from the cabinet." Jackson moved to move the kettle off the
stove.
Isaac did as told and sat down on the chair occupied previously by Jackson.
He’s eyes followed the man’s body as he moved around the kitchen, but he didn’t
dare to speak.
He poured out the water and then mixed in the rich powder. He waited until the
water was dark. He dropped in three little marshmallows into each cup before
putting the kettle away. Finally he pulled a spare folding chair from the coat
closet to sit on.
The boy looked down on his drink and then at Jackson. He took mug in his hand
and sipped at the scolding liquid sighing quietly when the warmth spread over
his body.
"I usually have milk, but I like it better like this. My best friend, Danny. He
was allergic to like everything. He couldn't have milk, or real chocolate.
Hell, he was allergic to nuts. But he could have this." Jackson filled the
silence, his dry humor seeping through. "Very fake chocolate milk. We used to
have it when his mom was out and we were waiting on one of our parents to get
off work. My mom used to make this stuff with almond milk and real melted dark
chocolate. It never tasted as good as this. Simple stuff sticks with us even if
there's better options out there. Or something vaguely philosophical like that.
Have to use my masters somehow. So... Why are you here?"
Isaac sat through the anecdote, wondering if he was supposed to find in it some
kind of deeper meaning or did Jackson just want to fill the awkward silence and
put him on ease. He cleared his throat when the question was asked. “I said
already. I feel really bad about what happened. I didn’t mean for my father to
find out.”
"So how did he?" Jackson raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“I told him,” Isaac said so quietly it was barely audible. His cheeks colored
in embarrassment.
"Ah." Jackson took a longer drink of the too hot liquid.
Isaac winced. He knew how it must look like. “He won’t go to the police so you
don’t have to worry about that. And I won’t bother you again,” he said standing
up.
"Sit." Jackson didn't need to look up from his mug to know Isaac sat back down
immediately. "What was he doing to you when you told him?"
Isaac’s finger’s played with the handle on the mug before he took a sip from
it. “What do you mean?” He questioned calmly. “He just asked me where I was the
whole evening and night. I didn’t want to lie.”
"Isaac, I accused you father of something the same moment he rightly accused me
of sleeping with you. I need to know for my own sanity if I'm the only one
who's a monster here. Does he hurt you?"
“You’re not a monster!” Isaac looked at him, not understanding how the man
could think of himself as one. “It’s my fault, I lied to you, I tricked you
into doing everything. You didn’t... force me or anything, you know that.”
"Sex with a minor is called statutory rape for a reason. Unless you were 18, it
was my fault and my lack of willpower. They don't just lock you up for
statutory. The prisoners in with you make sure you never come out alive."
Jackson stared down into the steaming drink. "Just answer me."
Isaac froze with hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.
But he won’t say, I promise. He won’t, I didn’t...” the boy jumped off the seat
and ran out of the kitchen. He shouldn’t have come at all. He was always making
things worse. Now that Jackson suspects something is up, oh god, he’s going to
have his blood on his hands. Isaac got to the front door, nearly
hyperventilating.
Jackson slammed into him, the door was wedged shut by the weight of their
bodies. "God dammit, Isaac. Did your dad put the scars on you?"
“Stop it!” Isaac struggled in the grip. “Just let me out!”
Jackson snarled, trapping Isaac's thin wrists over his head. "Not until you say
it, one way or the other."
Isaac whined as he was pinned to the surface. The long restrained tears slipped
down his cheeks. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
"He's not going to say anything if I have something to hold over his head. Tell
me." Jackson's forehead pressed against Isaac's. "Please."
“No one is going to believe you,” Isaac said. “Don’t you know what people think
about him here? Sheriff’s friend, best swimming team’s coach the school ever
had, good, helpful neighbour. No one will listen, no one ever...” A sob cut off
the rest.
Jackson let Isaac's hands go. His arms instead wrapped around the boy's
shoulder. He pulled Isaac close against him and spoke against his soft curls.
"I believe you. I'll listen."
Isaac clenched his fingers on Jackson’s shirt as he cried into his neck. “He
locked me out tonight. He just locked me out. I was good, I don’t know why.”
"Fuck." Jackson's hands shook as he petted down the boy's back. "You can come
here. You can always come here, alright?"
Isaac hiccuped pressing closer to the man. “I don’t... deser... ’m s- sorry.”
"Shh. Shh... Isaac, calm down. It's okay. You deserve to be safe and out of the
cold. Just no seducing me until you graduate, got it?" He bopped Isaac's nose
playfully.
Isaac smiled despite himself. “Thank you,” he whispered, sagging against the
man as the events of the day caught up with him.
Jackson bent at the knee. He scooted the long boy into his arms. "Come on, kid.
Time to get some shut eye."
Isaac let himself be carried to the bedroom. Once Jackson put him down he
stripped to his underwear and laid on the bed allowing Jackson to tuck him in.
Just when the older man was about to leave the room, Isaac’s eyes blinked open.
“What exactly defines seducing?”
"Just about everything. You're too sexy for both of our goods, baby." He
chuckled and leaned against the door, not yet wanting to leave.
“So kissing is off limits too?” Isaac hid under the cover so that only his eyes
and top of the head were visible.
"I'll make an exception just tonight." Jackson's smile was wide, unable to stop
the little laugh over how cute Isaac was being,
Isaac sat up eagerly welcoming Jackson’s lips. He wanted to ask the man to stay
and just let him fall asleep in those arms that made him feel safe for the
first time in a long time. But that would be too selfish. “Goodnight, Mr
Whittemore,” Isaac murmured breaking the kiss.
"Good night, Isaac."
~~~
He needed to buy a better couch. Jackson rolled over, finally giving in to the
body clock telling him that 6am was a great time to wake up. Damn school
schedule.
Isaac peeked from the kitchen. “Are you up?” He whispered into the dark room.
"Against my will." He grumbled as he stretched his arms out above his head.
"What are you doing? It's Saturday. You're supposed to be watching cartoons or
sleeping until 11."
“Did I wake you? Sorry, I tried to be quiet. You can go up to sleep in your bed
now, you know.” Isaac fidgeted in place before answering.
"Nah, it's fine. I wake up this time anyway."
“Well, I was famished. I hope you don’t mind but I made us breakfast.” Isaac
bit his lip counting the money he had on himself. It should be enough to pay
for the eggs, he concluded. A part of him wondered if he’s being stupid.
"You did? With what food? I think I have frozen diners and maybe ketchup."
Isaac grinned. “Do you look into your fridge once a week? You still had half a
tomato, piece of cheese and eggs. It’s still hot, come on in.”
Jackson didn't bother putting his shirt back on. He came into the kitchen and
groaned. "Fresh foooood."
“Not so very fresh. You seriously need to go grocery shopping,” Isaac pushed a
plate with thick golden omelet in front of the man and put bottle of ketchup
nearby. He sat down and sipped his tea.
"It's better than what I usually have when I eat in. Frozen food." He dug into
the omelet with a happy rumble. "You cook much?"
“I do, usually. I like it,” Isaac smiled over his mug. “You can create
something new from basic stuff.”
"I don't know how to do anything. Well, beside grill. But that's off limits in
the snow."
Isaac’s eyebrows knitted in worry. “But you really should take better care of
yourself. With all the exercising you’re doing proper nutrition is
fundamental.”
"Powder protein shakes. I usually eat out after workout." Jackson placed a hand
on top of Isaac's. "I'm a grown man I can take care of myself."
“Ew. That sounds like one of those products companies come up with to rip money
off athlete wannabes like you,” Isaac smirked. The touch he so craved made him
suck in a breath. He smiled intertwining their fingers.
"Don't try to get all housewifely on me." Jackson grumbled. "I don't need it."
“Sure you don’t. Enjoying the meal?” He bit his bottom lip to keep from
grinning. “Imagine what I could prepare if your fridge had decent equipment.”
"I'm enjoying the meal. But not the manipulating. Bribing me with food is not
going to work, Mister." He still shoveled in the rest of the omelet. "But I
guess a kid like you needs a side-job for money for going out and friends and
stuff. It's not CD's anymore is it?" He played up being older.
Isaac rolled his eyes. “No, grandpa, everyone downloads mp3 from iTunes these
days.” He caressed Jackson’s hand with his thumb.
"Well, ain't that fancy." He laughed and let his fingers play over Isaac's
wrist. "Are you going to take my offer or not? I could use a cook. Maybe a
housekeeper...." Jackson's eyes went hard. "And you need a place to live that
isn't you father's once you graduate."
Isaac’s hand retreated to the edge of table. “You can’t be serious with this. I
can’t, I shouldn’t be seen around your house at all. If he ever tells the
police they’ll start sniffing around. How plausible do you think your and mine
testimony will be if your neighbours say I’ve been living here?”
"It can't happen until after you graduate. You're 18 now but you need your
education. You can leave his house without the truancy officer coming for you.
I can find another school district to live in. I know it's a big jump but I
want you to get a different chance at life."
“But... you’d go to that trouble for me? Why?”
"Because... No one deserves to be afraid in their own home." Jackson watched
Isaac. This would probably take time to convince the boy. Perseverance...
“But it’s still... it’s too dangerous for you. The involvement will look
suspicious.”
"You let me worry about me. I'm the adult here. You just concentrate on knowing
you have a safe haven to go to, alright?"
Isaac stared down at his hands, picking at skin around his nails. “So by the
end of school... we could be together?” His voice was horse.
"Yep. As soon as you get that cap and gown. I'll start looking for places to
go. See who needs an English teacher. We can leave together and make a new
life. If you want that."
“Do you?” Isaac locked his eyes with him. “Because if I remember correctly you
didn’t want any relationship.” His face was unreadable. “Do you pity me,
Jackson?”
"The... relationship side's going to come a little harder to me." Jackson
admitted looking at his hands. "But it's not pity. I care about you."
Isaac’s jaw clenched. He shook his head. “It’s not supposed to come to you.
You’re supposed to want it. I want you,” he said firmly. “I love you. But the
last thing I need is to get lured by promises that don’t have any base in
reality.”
"Fine. I'll bring you the lease to our new place before graduation. I can give
you proof of reality." Jackson swallowed hard. "How can you use that word so
easily?"
Isaac smiled distantly and took a gulp of his already cold tea. “I’m sitting in
a kitchen of a guy who prevented me from freezing outside, knows about me more
than anyone and I’m saying shit that could get me thrown out. It’s not very
easy to say, you know,” Isaac looked at him. “And... that’s not what I meant. I
believe that you’d let me live with you. But I guess I don’t believe you
wouldn’t try to force yourself to like me for the sake of poor affection-
starved kid.”
"You don't know me very well. I don't suffer under unnecessary emotions. I like
you as a person. If I like you as more than that then it will happen. If not,
well, you cook well and eventually you'll be able to live on your own." Jackson
shrugged. "Plus, you didn't do any of the warning signs of the clingy and
attention-starved after we had sex. You won points."
Isaac scoffed. “Because I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it. Once you give me a
green light I won’t leave you in peace. Just a friendly warning.”
"I think I can handle it." Jackson grinned across the little table.
Isaac watched him for a moment, eyes tracing the lines of Jackson’s face, down
the throat he marked once and chest that felt so warm and firm under his skin.
He licked his lips. Crap, it’s going to be hard to manage through the next
months now that he had a taste of what they could have.
~~~
Jackson hated the months he was forced not to let himself near Isaac. He
watched Isaac in his class. He watched for signs of the father's abuse on all
of the inches of Isaac's pale, beautiful skin. He found the evidence in the
layers. Some days Isaac would be covered in clothing, hiding marks that Jackson
was never allowed to see. Those days Jackson punished the bag at the gym over
and over until his knuckles ache.
The good days were maddening. Sometimes he thought Isaac was doing it on
purpose. His long neck was exposed and Jackson couldn’t help but conjure
memories of his marks. He spent his finals hiding his erection behind his desk.
He looked up at Isaac as he was the last one to hand in his test.
"Come to my office hours tomorrow. I will be done with your college
recommendation letter." Jackson raised an eyebrow at Isaac.
“Oh,” Issac put himself together quickly. He didn’t ask for a recommendation
letter. He smiled politely and nodded. “Sure, Mr Whittemore. Thank you for
considering me.”
~~~
He could swear Jackson’s eyes conveyed more than a promise for the paper. Isaac
cracked his knuckles nervously, fidgeting in the chair outside of the man’s
office. They should be more careful. If he saw it, then others could too. Or
was he just imagining things?
A old cleaner lady shuffled down the corridor with a bag of trash, startling
him out of his thoughts. He sat up straighter. He was overreacting, obviously.
Just a little more he reminded himself. Your freedom is in just over a week.
The door opened to let out the immaculate Lydia Martin. No doubt she was
getting a recommendation just on her willingness to sass Mr. Whittemore. Isaac
stood up, swallowing nervously and came inside.
"Have a seat, Mr. Lahey." He spoke as the door creaked shut. As soon as it
closed fully his smile went from teacher-neutral to warm-longing. "How are
you?"
Isaac couldn’t help the jittery excitement from spreading over his body. “I’m
good now. I miss you,” he said quietly. “It’s been a while since we could talk
like this. And you seemed pretty determined to spend that time on torturing me
with your dumb jeans and shirts,” Isaac pouted but the facade was quickly
broken by a cocky grin.
"I gotta keep my man interested." He grinned right back, his tongue joined in
to flick out over his bottom lip. "You're no better. I can see down to your
collarbone and you made a show of pushing up your sleeves so I could see your
biceps."
“So I guess we’re even,” Isaac chuckled. “Did you really write me a
recommendation letter? What did you describe as my biggest talents?” He made a
show of licking his lips.
"Well, I started by describing your mouth, how sweet it tastes, how it danced
over my skin. I started again with your hands, their length and how they pet my
chest and wrapped around my body. That of course was inappropriate." His grin
was pure evil.
Isaac hid his face in his hands. “Stooop. I don’t need to deal with a hard on
at school on top of everything else.” The little of his face that was peeking
from behind hands was bright red. “I should know I can’t win with you at this.”
"Tough. I had one all through the damned final." His smile turned from wolfish
to tender. "You're adorable. I wrote about how you are blessed with the ability
to plan for the future. How you are a boy who endures challenges of 'health'
but always finds his way to power through with a drive unmatched. Here."
Jackson pushed a sealed envelope to Isaac. Clipped to it was a picture and a
real estate listing.
The boy took it into his hand and traced the straight lines of photographed
house with his fingers. “So... you didn’t change your mind,” he said, voice
cracking from emotions.
"Never. I meant what I said. I picked one with a little picket fence and
everything." Jackson wanted to kiss Isaac more than anything he could remember.
Isaac laughed, rubbing at his eyes so no random visitor could see the tears.
“How are we going to go about his?”
"Well did you apply to the colleges I suggested?"
“Yes, I did. And to two other ones, based in this state. My father knows about
those, but I don’t think he suspects anything is up.”
"Good. The house is close enough to the schools I told you about that you can
bus there or drive once I can buy you a car." Jackson shared another clever
little grin. "We just need to keep this out of his sight for a few more days
and we can be gone."
“Tell me more.” Isaac’s face split in a smile. “It helps to get through all of
this,” he explained. “Imagining how things will go. Should I just come to your
place after graduation ceremony?”
"Immediately after. I'll have the movers pack up the house and we can start on
the road. I went this weekend and I'll send the pictures to your e-mail. It has
the biggest most beautiful kitchen. And a pretty garden. Four bedrooms, one
that I am taking for an office. One for our bed..."
“You really thought about everything,” Isaac smiled, already picturing the
house and life they have before them. He’d drag Jackson to shopping center,
pick up some stuff, decorate the place. Make it their own. In little over a
week. “No e-mails though. Just to be safe,” he added.
"No e-mails..." Jackson agrees with a pout. "It's all I can think about. You
keep safe alright? Keep your head down. We're almost out."
“I’m good at that,” Isaac looked back on the envelope and then at the man. “I
know you said to stop thanking you, but... I don’t even know if I’ll ever be
able to compensate for half a favour you’re doing right now.”
"Get out safe." His voice was heavy as he looked into Isaac's eyes. He
lightened the expression with a wink. "And I can think up plenty of positions
you can thank me with."
Isaac hold the stare, a small smirk slipped on his lips. “I’m looking forward
to it.”
~~~~
The graduation went beautifully. The students all in dark cap and gown paraded
up to shake hands and take the next step in life. Jackson he hugged more than
one student, been thanked by a few parents. The principle had shown his regret
that Jackson was leaving their district. Jackson had sat with the other
teachers and had been able to restrain his anger against Mr. Lahey thinking one
thing. We're free.
Jackson had already packed, his home was empty save for larger furniture. He
could replace most of the heavier things. In fact, he'd mapped the nearest
furniture stores so he and Isaac could go shopping together. Everything was
working out fine.
Jackson leaned against his sporty little Maserati. Isaac should be here any
second. He was going to come the minute he could get away from his father.
Isaac's bag was passed along to him before the ceremony so all that was left
was the curly haired boy.
He waited, checking his watch. Five minutes late. A bubble of fear rose before
Jackson shook it away. Five minutes was nothing. Someone wanting to talk to
Isaac after the cap throw, a shoelace coming undone, or missing the signal to
cross the street all could have caused five minutes.
10 minutes late and Jackson started pacing. Maybe Isaac forgot something, had
to make a run home. Maybe a teacher caught him going the wrong way and he had
to double back to the school. Jackson's hands opened and closed as he listened
for any sound. Not a single car passed, no footfalls came on the pavement, and
no heartbeat but his own could be heard. Where was Isaac?
At 15 minutes he called. It was only for an emergency that Jackson would dare
use Isaac's phone. The first ring reminded him to control his breathing. At the
second he monitored his racing heart. At the third his fist hit the side of his
car. The voicemail left him choked up, unable to speak a word.
It was 30 minutes past and he was driving. Maybe Isaac had turned down the
wrong street, maybe he was caught up and unable to get away. Maybe his
father... Jackson tried to push that worry down.
He circled the school, the students were gone and only the field showed
evidence of the joyous celebration of the afternoon. Isaac was nowhere to be
found. His locker was empty. Everything looked how it should... except Isaac
was gone.
He called again and this time someone picked up and then hung it up again.
Jackson peeled out of the school parking lot. He dialed 911. He spoke in rapid
angry bursts demanding they get an ambulance out to Isaac's address. He arrived
first, storming straight into the house. It was deathly quiet. There was
shattered glass from a bottle across the floor, some of the shards glinted with
red. Jackson's heart stopped. He was too late.
~~~
It took him a while to realize someone was in the house. His father, of course.
He could hear the footsteps muffled by the freezer. Isaac let his head drop on
the wall. The impromptu bandage he made from his shirt was soaking through, the
sleeve wrapped around his arm did little to tame the bleeding. He was dying. He
could feel it. With every moment, every second, every drop of hot blood sliding
from his cut off elbow on his jeans. It wasn’t nearly as painful as Isaac
imagined. Or maybe it was too late for him to feel anything. He never should
have let himself to feel and dream and want. That wasn’t for boys like him.
~~~
There was so much blood. Jackson shook as his eyes found it everywhere. It was
all over a table-saw in the basement and smeared across the ground until it
painted the side of a freezer... with locks on it. Oh, no.
"Isaac!" He fumbled with the lock, finding the metal unmovable under his hands.
"FUCK!"
Jackson turned, searching the walls of the basement for anything he could use.
He yanked at a rusted axe on the wall and swung it. The metal shot sparks from
each strike, until finally the chain broke. He threw the axe away and pulled
the freezer open.
Strong hands grabbed him and hefted from the small space. More? No, he couldn’t
handle more. “Please, no,” Isaac stuttered. “Leave me alone.” He cried as all
strength left his body and he slumped into the man’s body. He just wanted it
all to end.
"Oh, God." Jackson's voice trembled as he saw Isaac's missing limb. "Oh, God,
no...."
There was noise from above, voices calling out.
"DOWN HERE. Ambulance, please! Oh God, Isaac stay with me. Baby, please."
Jackson shook as he held the boy
Strangers took his lover from his arms and put on a stretcher. He was whisked
away in a moment and soon Jackson was pressed into a police car. They were
following the ambulance. Jackson hadn't prayed harder in his life than he did
through the hours in the hospital, through his statement to the cops, through
the terrible moment of washing himself of Isaac's blood where it had dried on
his arms.
~~~
Isaac blinked and turned his head away from the annoying stray of light. He
cleared his throat, wincing at how dry it felt, and opened his eyes. The room
wasn’t his. Huh. Afterlife looked boring and sterile.
Jackson was asleep in the chair beside Isaac. They had tried to stop him. He
wouldn't budge and he had attempted to lay outside the door. Finally Sheriff
vouched for him after taking another statement and informing him that Mr. Lahey
was in prison awaiting trail with no hope of bail.
“Jackson?” Isaac whispered and coughed when his throat rebelled against the
words. “What are you doing here?” He asked trying to understand what happened
through the haze of medications.
"Isaac..." He scrambled to the bedside. "You're awake. Thank God."
“We shouldn’t be seen together, sir,” Isaac muttered.
"Shh. It's fine right now. You just rest. I'm not leaving you." Jackson's hand
pet Isaac's curls from his face.
Isaac reached to him, wanting to hide between the man’s arms and believe
everything will be better. Except... he couldn’t. “Oh god,” Isaac looked at the
stump. “It really happened.” Tears slid down his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” Isaac
cried looking up at Jackson.
"Shh, shh. I have you. It's fine. I have you." He held Isaac close, a tear
falling down his cheek as Isaac noticed the missing forearm. "Shh."
Isaac shook in the embrace as his monitors got louder and louder. “I’m s-
sorry,” he chanted clenching Jackson’s shirt with his one hand until a nurse
rushed into the room and pried Jackson away.
“Sir, I need to ask you to leave,” she said calmly before pressing at Isaac’s
shoulders to keep him down while the other woman injected sedative into the
boy’s vein. “You were told the patient can’t be exposed to distress out of risk
of breaking his stitches.”
"He woke up. His arm is gone and he woke up. How the fuck am I supposed to keep
him from being stressed?!" Jackson growled at the nurse. Well, he was going to
get thrown out again... Great.
“You could’ve call a staff member as soon as he came back from coma. Please,
don’t make me call security on you. You know you shouldn’t be here at all,” she
said in the same unaffected voice.
"He needs someone! No one else is here because his own father tried to kill
him. A fine vote of confidence in his biological family that is." He growled
but threw up his hands at her stern face. "How long will he be out?"
“At least three hours,” the other nurse answered. “Mr Whittemore... I know it
sounds harsh, but by being here you’re not helping him recover. He needs to
rest. Please, come back tomorrow.”
Jackson was about to snap at her again before hearing her return invitation.
"That sounds wise... Can I bring him back.... anything?"
“Maybe basic personal belongings, he won’t need much else for a while.” The
nurse smiled at him and walked out of the room after her colleague.
~~~~
Isaac laid in his bed, idly observing the tree out side the window, branches
and leaves moving with the wind. It was calming. He heard the door open and
close, followed by soft footsteps that lead to his bedside. He didn’t turn his
head to see who it was. He didn’t have too. “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he said
quietly.
"I'm just glad you weren't alone." Jackson hovered, restraining himself. "I
smuggled in some real food."
Isaac closed his eyes and didn’t say anything for a long while. Finally, he
turned to Jackson. “I think it’d be the best if you leave.”
"What? Isaac?" Jackson stared. "Why?"
“Please, don’t make this harder for both of us,” Isaac said calmly. “I
understand, there’s no point in pretending you’re still into me or anything.”
"Isaac, I'm happy you're alive enough to try to shove me away. I thought I had
lost you. Stop this nonsense and come here."
“No!” Isaac snapped. “Don’t you get it?! I’m defective. I’ll never be like the
guy you knew. Maybe now you’re driven by guilt or pity or whatever, but trust
me, it’s going to wear off and you’re going to be left with regrets. I can’t
deal with that,” Isaac’s voice broke. “I just... please, leave me now, it’s
going to be easier for both of us.”
"Tough. I'm not leaving so shut it with that bullshit."
Isaac frowned. “Fine. Then I’m going to ignore you until you go away.” He
turned his head back to the window hoping the man won’t see how close he was to
crying.
"Fine. I'm still going to sit here. Watching you."
“Don’t you have something better to do? Like moving in to you new house?”
Isaac’s voice cracked by the end of sentence. He cleared his throat to mask it.
“Or are you staying after all?”
"No point moving in if you're not there to help me. How am I going to be able
to make it look like a home instead of a magazine clipping?" Jackson
desperately wanted to hold Isaac.
Isaac brushed the tears with top of his hand. “I’d be of no use there anyway.”
"I'm not leaving you here. I want you with me and as soon as you're well we are
going. We'll find you a rehab center near the new place. We'll be fine."
Jackson moved closer. "Please, look at me."
Isaac turned his face to the man. “I’m giving you the last chance. You don’t
love me. Turn around and walk away. If you stay and then leave me when this,”
he raised the stump for a moment, “becomes too much for you to handle, I’m
going to hate you for it.”
Jackson sucked in a breath as he was presented with the loss. If Isaac had been
anyone, some one night stand, Jackson would have turned away. He could have
never imagined himself wanting to deal with anyone with a disability. Hell, he
knows the vitriol that would have poured from him at even the suggestion he
become someone's nursemaid. That was before Isaac.
"I'm not leaving you. You're alive, that's enough for me."
Isaac’s lips quivered before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly,
forcing his body to relax. “What are you waiting for, come here,” he said with
a faint smile.
Jackson tried not to rush the pale boy. His arms wrapped around Isaac's lower
back and he pressed his face to Isaac's neck. "Baby, I'm not leaving."
Isaac rested his hand on the man’s head and caressed him slowly, still not
believing his intentions but needing the contact. “He found the envelope with
real estate listing,” he said after a moment.
"Fuck. I should have never given it to you. I should have taken it back once I
showed you." The guilt pounded in his chest.
“Stop it. It’s not your fault. I was... reckless, already living in the dream,
not paying attention. He could sense something was up from my behaviour alone.”
Isaac brushed a kiss on Jackson’s cheek.
"He can't hurt you anymore. He's locked up. You're safe, alright?" Jackson felt
like he was the one being comforted.
“I know, Sheriff Stilinski came by yesterday,” Isaac’s hand petted his head. “I
guess I caused quite the scandal in this shit town. Now all neighbours can give
interviews to the press or maybe even TV and cry about how we were such a calm,
friendly family and how nothing ever suggested the poor boy was being thrown
against walls or had scolding water poured on him. They of course will forget
to add about those times I screamed and my father yelled and no one turned a
head.”
"We'll get you out of here. No one is going to know about it and you won't have
to deal with their questions or comments. Fuck their opinion and fuck their
silence." Jackson growled at the idea of people hearing Isaac's pain and doing
nothing.
Isaac gave out a breathy bitter laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never escape
questions and comments about my state.” His hand slid on Jackson’s back, simply
hugging the man to him. “But I... want to escape this place. I can’t even think
of coming back to my house. I just can’t.”
"No. You don't have to go back there. The sheriff probably roped it off for the
investigation." Jackson's hands spread along Isaac's back. "You can stay with
me once they release you from the hospital."
“Thank you,” Isaac murmured. “It won’t be too long, you know. They don’t have
much to do now. I just have to heal.”
"Sure. You just focus on that. I'll be here. School's out so I can come every
day."
Isaac’s mood darkened again. They have little in common. Nothing to talk about.
How was this going to work out? Jackson didn’t make it a secret he liked him
for his body. They had a silent understanding that Isaac will pay his rent in
bed. He didn’t think he could do it now. He wasn’t able to even picture having
sex in this condition, just as he wasn’t able to imagine going to a party or
movies without being bothered and stared at. His disability and the things he
went through were always going to stand between him and other people.
He wondered at first why his father did this, why he chose to punish him this
way, but now it all made sense. It was the best way he could still control
Isaac’s life, even from jail, even from behind his grave.
“I’m... tired, Jackson,” Isaac whispered.
"Then you should sleep." He guided Isaac back toward the bed and tucked the
sheets around his lover. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Isaac smiled sadly. “I know you will.” Even if you don’t want to. “Bring me
some real food meanwhile,” he let his lip twitch in a resemblance of a real
smile.
"Burgers and curly fries it is." He leaned over Isaac and kissed his lips ever
so softly.
He didn’t have much choice. Isaac knew he couldn’t deal with coming back home
and searching his mother’s family would be a pain in the ass. He wasn’t sure if
they let him stay with them anyway. He closed his eyes realizing he needed to
keep Jackson interested no matter the cost. “Now let me rest, Mister. The
sooner I get out of here, the faster we get to move in to our new house,” he
said swallowing his pride and winked.
------
The house was beautiful. It had a white picket fence and a huge kitchen. The
summer was spent picking out furniture and drapes. Jackson didn't like manual
labor and had professionals install just about everything. Of course Jackson
was also keeping Isaac from trying to exert himself. He was laying out with ice
tea doing a hard day's labor watching people paint his house.
Isaac sat beside him, holding a glass with the same beverage. It took him a
while to get used to using left hand, since he was born right-handed. Now he
managed to perform just about any basic action without spilling, dropping and
breaking things.
“I see you’re busy,” he teased. He asked Jackson many times if there was
anything he could do around the house and was met with refusal each time. It
just proved how useless he appeared.
"Management is a key role. Come, join me. Direct them. Just like the living
room where you figured out the position of the T.V. so the setting sun wouldn't
make the screen all hazy."
“Yeah, that’s the most complicated task I can be given,” Isaac murmured,
bitter. He caught himself quickly. There was no point in making Jackson
uncomfortable. It was actually threatening his position. “Although,” he forced
himself to smirk. “I could think of other things I could take care of.”
Jackson heard the bitter little comment. He didn't have an answer that would
help. Instead he turned toward the positive topic. "Oh? And what would that
be?"
“I think you have an idea,” Isaac leaned in licking his lips.
Jackson's eyebrows went right up into his hairline. "Naughty, and in front of
the help."
“You’re right, we should go upstairs.” Isaac stood up and put his glass down on
the table. He threw Jackson a look over his shoulder, sure the man will follow.
Jackson grinned wide and immediately followed. If there was one thing the
incident hadn't changed it was Isaac's sex drive. In fact it might have
increased it. They hadn't even a fulled set up bed before he was being jumped
and pawed at.
Isaac took Jackson’s hand in his, leading them to the main bedroom. Funny how
things turn up sometimes. He used to daydream about sharing a bed -and life-
with this man but now the thought of it sent nothing more but a shudder of
disgust through his body. He could barely look at himself in the mirror, and
Jackson made him feel exposed like no reflecting glass could. He tugged at the
shirt, pulling it off his deformed body and pressed to Jackson, catching his
lips in a kiss. First time after the accident was the worst. But he learned to
close his mind and ban all thoughts since then. His hand sneaked down to the
man’s zipper, tracing it with deft fingers. “Do you think the workers will mind
if we get loud?” He asked with a sly smile, hoping Jackson will agree to keep
things quiet. He couldn’t imagine looking those men in the eyes without
blushing furiously if they were to overhear them.
"I'll add a little money into their pockets and they can listen to anything we
want." Jackson arched under Isaac's tender ministration. "You're beautiful."
Isaac tensed. He had to go slow then. His eyes closed at the empty praise and
he sealed his lips over Jackson’s neck. He kissed a path up the man’s throat
and bit the earlobe gently. “Money won’t buy you everything, babe,” he said,
aiming at playful teasing tone, but the familiar tang of regret slid in as
well.
"No..." He pet a hand over Isaac's hair and down his neck on the side with the
missing arm. All the money in the world couldn't have helped stop what happened
to Isaac. A note of sadness played across his face as his hand moved from his
neck over his shoulder cap. "There are some things you can't buy..."
Isaac suppressed the urge to flinch. He hated when people touched his arm,
emphasizing the loss. “I spoilt the mood, didn’t I?” He asked, threading
finger’s through Jackson’s hair. One would think he’d be a good actor after all
these years spent with his father, the best trainer you could get. But
apparently not. Isaac figured he didn’t have much artistic talent. “Stop
sulking and get off these clothes,” he slapped Jackson’s butt, waiting for him
to get on his four on the bed. It was one of few positions Isaac felt remotely
comfortable having sex in. He told Jackson it was easier to balance himself
when he could just grab his shoulder. But not being forced to face the man was
definitely a major plus.
"Not at all." Jackson pushed up to catch Isaac's mouth to try to recapture the
playful moment. He smiled a little and turned over. He wanted to help Isaac be
comfortable in any way possible, so the change in position was the least he
could do. He pulled off his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt. "Enjoying
the view back there?"
Isaac brushed his hand over the muscled back. “You know I do. And you don’t
need to hear it, your ego is already close to exploding,” he pinched the newly
revealed ass cheek.
"You like me just like that. Ego and all." He shook his ass at Isaac. "You
going to get in me, baby?"
“Can’t wait,” Isaac said softly, stretching the man with his fingers. “Just a
moment.” He rubbed at his face. This was not the time to have problems with
performing. He was 18, dammit. “Just making sure you’re ready for me,” Isaac
brushed a kiss over Jackson’s back, jerking himself off fast.
Jackson noticed the motion in the corner of his eye. "Let me help with that."
He hadn't been allowed to touch Isaac since they moved here. He was allowed to
kiss, but anytime his hands strayed below the neck Isaac changed the topic or
focus back to Jackson. He started to turn around.
“No!” Isaac pushed at him so hard the man dropped face first on the bed. “I’m
sorry,” he stared in shock. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be ready in just a minute,” his
nervous smile played on his lips. “Just relax, I’m s-sorry.”
"Isaac, why? Just let me make love to you." Jackson begged as he shifted up
from his fallen position. "Come here, baby."
Isaac shivered and flinched away. Oh god, he was messing everything up. “It’s
all fine, Jackson, why are you making a problem out of this?” He snapped.
"Because my lover shouldn't flinch when I try to touch him." Jackson growled
right back.
“I’m not flinching, I’m fine!” Isaac raised his voice. “Just get on your hands
and knees.”
"Are you even enjoying this? You used to love me touching you and marking your
body as mine." Jackson wasn't trying to raise his voice any further but up it
went.
Isaac grit his teeth. Why everything had to be so hard. He took a deep breath.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t enjoy it, now would I?” He asked calmly,
smiling sweetly. “Come on. I want to fuck you, you’re wasting time.”
Jackson didn't like the tone. It was like he was being placated. Like Isaac
thought he was going to get worse. "Not today."
Isaac’s face fell. “What do you mean?” He reached to pet Jackson’s hips. “I
know you want to.” His smile was back and Isaac hoped it looked real.
"'Not today." Jackson repeated and rolled off the bed. He felt violated,
watching Isaac's face ring false. "I want you, but I want all of you."
Fuck, this is what you get for being a drama queen. Of course now Jackson was
completely turned off an idea of being with him. “You- you have all of me,”
Isaac tried meekly. “I don’t know what else I can do.” To deserve to stay.
"Isaac... You don't let me touch you. Any tiny conflict we have you turn into
sex. I feel like you’re walking on eggshells to please me and I don't get it."
Jackson grabbed his pants off the floor.
“You can touch me!” He clung to the tiny hope that this day wasn’t a utter
disaster. “Come here, you can touch me as much as you want,” he chuckled trying
to play it off as Jackson’s misunderstanding. The man was reading him like an
open book. But if so... Did it mean he understood everything Isaac was going
through and simply allowed it...? Isaac squished the anger. There were more
important things to deal with. Just when he thought he was set up for a nice
peaceful living, so shortly before the house was supposed to finished being
renovated... he was going to be pushed aside. “Please...”
Jackson pressed his own lips together as he watched. He reached a hand forward.
He traced Isaac's lips with his fingertips before tracing down over Isaac's
Adam's apple. "You are so lovely, Baby."
Isaac smiled, relaxing visibly. He kissed the inside of Jackson’s wrist. “Then
come down here and show me how lovely you think I am,” he whispered not wanting
to think of what was going to come next.
"Lay down on your back." He let Isaac lower himself down, not wanting to force
him off balance. Once Isaac was positioned he leaned down to press a kiss to
the center of his chest.
Isaac tried to calm down his rapidly beating heart but it was impossible
without looking suspicious. He pressed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder to force
him down. If they could just get down to it maybe he would get his mind in the
game.
Jackson tried not to sigh at the push. He kissed his way down, but his mouth
covered Isaac's length far faster than he would have liked. He still licked.
Isaac closed his eyes trying to enjoy the sensation. His dick didn’t share the
urge to, apparently. He cursed and focused on imagining anything that could
help him get up.
Jackson did his best, teasing licks and gentle suckling on his manhood and on
the sensitive skin of Isaac's thighs brought little result. He sighed, his
breath ghosting out along the skin. He moved upward, kissing over Isaac's hips
bone, taking his time to enjoy the skin he found there.
Isaac covered his eyes with his hand. The touch he once so craved now seemed
unbearable. He was useless. “I’m sorry...” He whispered before turning on his
side and bringing knees to his chest. He laid like that, face still hidden
waiting for Jackson to take his frustration out on him and leave.
Jackson didn't know what to do. It had been so easy between them before. He'd
craved Isaac's touch and passion. The sight of the curled boy was enough to
break his heart. "It's okay. I shouldn't have pushed."
“You didn’t. It’s me. I can’t keep up my end of the bargain,” Isaac said
numbly. Seeing Jackson’s expression, he added, “Don’t act surprised. I know why
I’m here.” He sighed. “Every time I asked if there’s anything I can do to repay
for your kindness, you’d say that I “can do it in the bedroom”, or something of
this nature. At first I thought you were being playful, but after the...
accident, I realized, you really don’t have any other reason to keep me. You
won’t let me do anything around the house, fuck, I can’t do anything around the
house, I can’t even cook or be your housekeeper like we originally planned. And
now you know I can’t do this either. I’m sorry.”
"You think you're paying to live with me by having sex with me?" The older man
couldn't quite understand unless he spoke the words out-loud. Once they were
out they felt like bleach burning his skin. "I was joking. Of course I was
joking. You're not my live-in whore. I don't expect you to... Isaac, I wanted
to get you safe. If you don't want sex then we can rearrange the office and
make it a bedroom for just you."
Isaac turned on his back staring up at the man with teary eyes. “You were...?”
He sniffed and wiped the wetness off his cheeks. “But why would you care for
me? Why do you want me? Just wh-why would you...” Isaac cleared his throat to
get rid of the tightness. He turned his head to the window. “See? I’m screwed
up. I-I’ve always been, but what happen in May... it really screwed me up. Half
of me awaits until you get bored with me and the other half expect you to
finally snap and beat the shit out of me for turning your life upside down.”
Isaac risked looking at the man. “I want to feel different but I can’t. Like I
want you to touch me but the thought of it makes me so disgusted with myself I
just... can’t.”
"You don't owe me anything. I don't want you forcing yourself to let me touch
you. Isaac, I care about you. I restructured my life to make sure you were safe
and happy. Because... well, because I want to. Because something in your eyes
and your face makes me want to see it every day." He pressed his lips together
as his jaw worked. "We should find you some help."
Isaac was quiet for a moment, thinking the words through. “Can you just hold me
for now?” He whispered.
Jackson nodded. He laid himself down on the bed, settling in before opening his
arms. He settled the boy's body against his and soaked in the simple fact that
Isaac was alive. "Anything you want."
“I want my arm back,” Isaac murmured snuggling into the other man and inhaling
his scent.
Jackson clutched his boy closer to his body. He wanted to fix it all, make
everything perfect as possible. But he couldn't regrow Isaac's arm and he
couldn't wash away the weight of Isaac's father over their new life. "I'm
sorry."
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Isaac smiled into his skin. “I should
apologize for being dishonest.” After a moment of thought he added quietly.
“You can... see other people if you want.”
Jackson pet Isaac's curls, trying to think over the offer. He didn't want to
take other lovers, but was this going to work? Jackson didn't have any
illusions about his own control. The fact he'd slept with a student was
evidence enough. Could he function without any sex? Isaac was offering to give
him permission. Not that they had discussed what their status was before they
moved.
"I'm not going to date. I.. I might hook up for a one-night stand. Are you sure
that's okay?"
Isaac swallowed down the urge to say no. As if he had any right to decide what
Jackson does with his free time. “Of course it is. Just be safe.”
"I will be." Jackson shifted under the weight of their conversation. This was
better. This was reasonable. They could both get their needs met. Why did he
feel like he just made a huge mistake?
~~~
Jackson lasted another three months. They slept in the same bed, they ate
together, and generally lived well enough. Isaac was learning to cook with one
hand. The physical therapist had fit Isaac with a prosthetic hand with a clever
little magnet in the palm. Jackson had bought a set of magnetic cups and
spatulas for 'Christmas'. So what if it was October.
The tension crawled over Jackson's spine, pressed at his concentration and
drove him to distraction. Everything Isaac did seemed designed to frustrate
him. Every time he bent over to look in the stove, the way he danced when his
radio played, the giggle that split the air when they watched Whose Line Is It
Anyway reruns. Everything sent Jackson's cock to painful hardness. He'd kept
his hands to himself... barely.
"Hey, Curls." He hummed affectionately as he kissed Isaac's cheek. Isaac was
cleaning up the table from lunch. Jackson was improving at not coddling his
lover. "You remember what we talked about a few months ago?"
“Why yes,” Isaac grinned. “I remember but every words that passes between us.”
He rolled his eyes dumping dirty dishes into the sink. “It’d help if you’d say
which particular conversation am I supposed to recall,” he came up to the man
and wrapped his arm around his waist.
Jackson snorted. That was another thing he adored. Isaac had started to tease
him again. It only made his desires worse. He wanted to kiss that smirk and
press his hips into Isaac's as response. Fuck, Jackson focus! "About sex. Me
finding a one-night stand."
“Oh...” Isaac’s smile slid from his face for a moment. “Have you found someone
you’d like?” He pressed a brief kiss to his lips.
"No. I just am... tense." He emphasized by shifting his cock, trying to calm
the ache. "I just need a quick one-off. I'm not looking for a lover. You know
that, right? You're the one I live with, my Constant."
Isaac smiled and he almost meant it. “Of course I know that. Have fun with
hunting down the lucky guy,” he said before moving to wash the dishes.
"Would it make you feel better if it was a girl? I go for either." He tried to
ease the pressure settling on his stomach. Isaac was fine with it. He suggested
it. Jackson shouldn't feel guilty.
“Whatever you want, Jackson,” Isaac said without turning. “I told you I don’t
mind it.” His hand stopped cleaning and he added. “Well, to be honest I am
scared about something happening to you. I never understood the appeal of going
into some stranger’s apartment in the middle of the night,” he looked at the
older man. “But you know what you’re doing so... I’ll just try not to freak out
if you won’t pick up one of my every-five-minutes calls,” he grinned.
Jackson chuckled and pressed a kiss to Isaac's lips. "I'll stay safe. I have
you to come home to after all."
~~~
The club was all low lighting and flashing lights. The music thumped with a
base only meant for sex. It was perfect for what Jackson craved. He watched
bodies of all kinds of pleasing shapes rub and arch against each other on the
dance floor before him. More bodies were grinding in the booths curling around
the edges. Jackson could find himself a little release in no time. He just
needed a partner.
She dropped on the stool beside him and ordered a beer. Her eyes swept over his
body and left it to scan the dance floor. Bottle in hand, she sighed and spoke
up. “The music is getting shittier and shittier around here.”
"I wouldn't know. It's my first time." Jackson eyed the blond beside him and
graced her with one of his 'everyone's type' grins. "I like the views however."
“Aren’t you a little too old for first times?” Her smirk fled when she took a
sip of the alcohol. Blood colored lipstick stood intact even after her tongue
slid over her upper lip.
"New city." He figured it was technically true. "How about I get you on the
dance floor? Or back to my porsche if you like cutting to the chase."
The woman laughed throwing her head back. “You are very confident. And
succinct.” She looked at him amused.
"I aim to please. So, Beautiful, are you here with a flock of girls or can I
abscond with you?" He licked his lips at her.
Her eyes followed the movement. “I like the latter option very much. Just let
me find my boyfriend, I’ll tell him we’re leaving.”
"Your.... boyfriend?" Jackson smiled wider. "Does he want to join us? I could
go for two."
She raised her eyebrow. This wasn’t the most common reaction she got to the
standard line. “I can ask him, but I doubt it. Boyd hunted down some pretty
little thing a while ago.”
"Swingers. Hot." Jackson smirked and finished off his drink. "I'll be right
here, Beautiful."
“You better be,” she winked and disappeared between dancing couples.
~~~
The hotel was nice enough, nothing too up-scale, but it didn't need to be. The
linens were clean, the bathroom was stocked with towels, and it was quiet.
Jackson opened the door for her and dropped his jacket onto the chair. "So
Erika, you and the boyfriend switch partners often?"
She pulled her leather vest off and the thing joined Jackson’s piece of
clothing. “Depends. Each can go out and find some one-night-stand whenever, but
we like doing it together. She laid down on the bed, resting on her elbows.
Which, I know, sounds a little contradicting since the whole thing started
because we realized we crowd each other too much.” She toed off her shoes. “So
the answer would be ‘when we both have a clear schedule and will’,” she
grinned. “Why, are you thinking of proposing this to your.... partner?” She
asked innocently.
"We already have an arrangement." He shucked off his shirt. "How do you two
keep from jealousy?"
Erica dropped back on the bed, unzipped her jeans and tugged them down. “We
trust each other,” she shrugged as if it was obvious. “This is just about sex,
variety, adventure. We’re not... cheating on each other. There’s no place for
jealousy.”
"Yeah..." Jackson unzipped his pants to try to ignore the churning in his gut.
He moved over toward the bed to sit beside her. He pressed a kiss to her neck,
trying to take his mind away from Isaac.
Erica raised an eyebrow noticing his pensive expression. Men usually didn’t
lose focus after she took her pants off. She pulled her top off swiftly and
pushed the man back on the bed. She straddled him and lowered herself
carefully, rolling her hips down on the man’s groin. “So, your girl is out
there getting some? She’s going to be fine, don’t worry,” she smiled down on
him combing hand through her hair to keep them from falling on her face.
"Boyfriend." He corrected with a little grin. He pet her side. "He's at home.
He doesn't... he can't do this."
“Oh...” She debated with herself whether she should prompt for details. Her
experience was pretty clear on that, talking personal shit in bed could result
in everything but getting laid. The curiosity won. “Your arrangement is rather
imbalanced, porsche-guy. You sure he’s okay with it?”
"He suggested it. That means he has to be okay with it, right?" His head hit
the bed as he mulled the comment over. "I'm not doing anything wrong."
“Of course you don’t,” she smiled slyly. “You seem to be doing pretty well
despite the ongoing discussion.” He hand cupped his half hard cock through the
material of his briefs. She bent to kiss and mouth at his chest, her lush hair
spilling around her head. “Or maybe he sensed that’s what you want,” she said.
He arched up toward her mouth. God, he missed that kind of touch. "I... I want
him. If I could have him I would just have him. But that's not happening so...
Here I am."
She leaned back with interest written on her face. “So... he’s asexual? It’s
hard to make a relationship work if you two have polar opposite expectations of
it.”
"No. We were together before he... He got hurt." He ran a hand through his hair
and let out a huff. "He lost one of his arms. He can't stand to be touched
anymore."
She looked at the man and part of her regretted starting the topic. This was a
level of intimacy quick fuck with a random did not cover. Erica left a last
parting kiss on his chest and slid up the man’s body, setting by his side. Her
hand stroked his shoulder. “So he tries to make it up to you by letting you do
this? That doesn’t sound like a healthy deal.”
Jackson curled toward her, letting their bare bodies touch. It was calming. "I
don't know what to do. I didn't just run off and fuck as soon as I could. I
waited. I just... I'm frustrated. Everything he freaking does makes me hard. I
nearly came because he smiled at me over being able to flip pancakes."
“That’s why people invented masturbation,” she chuckled cuddling him closer and
held him, thinking through her advice. “Do you know why he can’t stand to be
touched? There must be something about it. And I’m sure the current status is
as painful for him as it is for you.”
"We don't talk about it. He... Look, his father was a real piece of work. He
was the one that... caused it. Probably caused most of the hurtful shit that
runs around in Isaac's head." He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "I didn't mean
to talk about him."
Erica smiled. “It’s okay. Doesn’t seem like anything else could be on your mind
anyway.”
"I love him. Of course he's on my...." Jackson went deathly still. "I love
him."
She snorted. “I’ve heard you.”
"Shut up." He glared, but it didn't last. It melted into a smile. "I didn't
realize I was. I used to be a bit of a player, your typical single dude."
“Amazing what we can find out about ourselves during a one night stand,” she
teased but soon her expression went serious. “You need to talk with your boy.
You two can’t just assume the other can read minds.”
"Swinger, one-night-stand, therapist. You take cash or credit?"
“Free of charge. Sorry, those days are behind me,” she grinned and pushed him
to lay back. “I’ll tell you what you gonna do now. We’ll have a quick
therapeutic session and then you’ll go home to tell your boyfriend what I just
heard. Okay?”
"Can do." He smiled, the tension mostly drained from his body. "Come and get
me."
~~~
When Isaac woke up the next morning it was to find Jackson already by his side,
soundly asleep. The young man chafed at his eyes and sat up leaning on the
headboard. He took a moment to watch his boyfriend, savior, love. Nothing
seemed out of ordinary about his relaxed expression and disheveled hair. But
the faint unfamiliar aroma of a soap the man must have used when cleaning
himself in some stranger’s apartment was still in the air and suddenly Isaac
felt like he was suffocating. He threw the cover off himself and walked
downstairs to flee the emotions he agreed to suppress.
Jackson woke when the bed moved. He opened his eyes just long enough to catch
the back of his love escaping his presence. Jackson sighed, a weight settling
over him. He knew why Isaac ran. Hell, Jackson felt like running from himself.
The sex had been fine, good even, but the emptiness he'd been attempting to
fill only yawned wider.
Jackson moved out of the bed and grabbed his silken dressing robe from the
door. The tile of the staircase was cold and he made himself take slow steps.
It was a subtle thing he'd learned to do living with Isaac. Rushed steps coming
toward the younger man would cause him to go into full panic mode. Jackson
reached the kitchen finally, knowing it was Isaac's safest place in the house.
"Good Morning, Beautiful."
“Morning.” Isaac turned to him with a bright smile. He faltered realizing
normally he’d ask how Jackson slept. He turned to mix the ingredients for
pancake dough together, breaking their easy routine.
"You're upset. So am I. Can we talk?" Jackson didn't reach out to touch Isaac.
Somehow he felt like he didn't have that privilege after last night.
Isaac stopped the preparation but didn’t turn to face the man. “I’m not a kid,
Jackson. I knew what I was agreeing to. It’s fine.”
"I didn't. I had no idea how this was going to make me feel. Or realize
how...." Jackson ran a frustrated hand over his neck. That was not the way to
do this. He didn't want to sound like he was blaming his partner. "Please, just
come into the living room and talk with me?"
Isaac sighed, wiped his hand on the rag and followed the man without a word. He
sat on the designer black leather couch that would take up half of his former
room and waited.
Jackson sat beside Isaac and angled to face him. He took a deep breath to
gather his thoughts. Isaac was sensitive, easily jumped to conclusions Jackson
could never imagine. He had to do this right. "Last night I did what we agreed.
I got a one-night stand. We had sex. But... It didn't change the frustration.
It was the same as before, I still long for you. And.... I feel like I betrayed
you last night."
Isaac swallowed down the urge to concur with it and admit he cried himself to
sleep when Jackson was getting off. Mature, he was being mature, he reminded
himself. “You didn’t. We decided it’s for the best, right?” He risk a glance at
the man and his heart clench seeing the distress he was causing the man. Again.
"Yeah, but I think we were wrong. Just because we agreed it's not cheating....
It felt like cheating. And I'm so sorry." Jackson swallowed hard. "I realized
some things last night. And… I haven't opened up about my past much. You never
had a chance to voluntarily open up about yours. So. I think I owe you this.
If... if you want to hear it. If the cheating isn't something.... I don't want
it to break us. But I want you to have whatever emotion you had about it. I
know you don't usually get mad but that's pretty par for the course being
cheated on."
“Okay...?” Isaac answered not really understanding where the other man was
heading.
"I don't want to cheat, ever. I don't want to push you. I want to be sexual,
but only as much as you can handle."
Isaac sighed. “I’m... warming up to the idea. But I don’t know how long it’ll
take me to get there,” he said quietly.
"That's fine. If it's not off the table completely then we can go at your pace.
And I can take care of myself. Won't be hard." Jackson chuckled and leaned in
to kiss Isaac's lips. "I nearly come in my pants every time you have flour on
your ass from baking."
Isaac blushed and grinned. “Funny. I was going to make cookies tonight.”
"Tease." Jackson rumbled, his body easing from that worry. The next confession
weighted on his mind. It would be too easy to sweep it under the rug and hide
his emotional revelation. Jackson shifted, looking at his partner. This was the
man he... he loved. What a terrifying thing, this love.
"My real last name isn't Whittemore. I'm adopted. When I was a baby I was taken
in. My adopted parents had money; I never wanted for anything. I found out I
wasn't theirs at 7. It... my adopted parents aren't exactly warm people. They
were never mean or bad they just... They expected the best from me and when I
was 7, I suddenly understood why. I wasn't theirs. I was some... replacement, a
substitute child. I was the best they could get and all the tutoring and sports
leagues were their way of getting back their investment. I didn't know who I
was. And I've spent most of my life trying to figure out who I really am. I
tried making my adoptive parents glad they took me in. I was Salutatorian,
Captain of the Rugby team in high school and college. I went into teaching just
like my mother. It still never felt like enough. If I had grandchildren... they
would go through the same thing. Trying to be good enough to be substitute
grandchildren. I had to prove myself and... I still can't quite believe that I
was anything but a trophy. I still don't really believe I was ever loved. I...
I haven't told anyone I loved them since I was 7. Because my parents, the ones
that are supposed to love you unconditionally, weren't real."
The emotions flowed out of Jackson as the words poured from him. He'd never had
a partner like Isaac. His love life was a series of less or more memorable one-
night stands so he would never have to delve into this side of himself. He
waited, unsure what he expected or wanted to hear from Isaac.
The boy stared, at loss of words. “Jackson, that’s...,” he forced out finally.
He use to wonder why Jackson was brushing off ever mention about his parents,
and even found it quite aloof, albeit he never voiced his judgement. He didn’t
realize the picture perfect family of a three with bottomless sack of money and
privilege could be rotten through by similar ailment as his. His hand rested on
Jackson’s and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry.” He chewed on his lip trying to find
the right words. When nothing came up he leaned in and snuggled against the
man.
Jackson wrapped both of his arms around Isaac. He pressed a kiss to the curly
hair that he loved. He needed to say it...
"Isaac... Now that you know. You'll understand why this part is … it's just
hard." Jackson nudged Isaac back and cupped his cheek. "I love you."
Isaac sucked in a breath and pulled out of the hug. He sat on the edge of the
couch, ready to escape if the man moved closer. He shook his head staring at
the ground. covered by thick red carpet that probably cost more than his
wardrobe. Isaac took a deep breath and looked at Jackson. “Do you...” He
groaned rubbing at his face. “You know I don’t need you to say it just because
you feel guilty about last night.”
"Shit." Jackson groaned at his own stupidity. "Apparently my timing is shit.
No, this isn't about guilt. It's not because of last night at all. I just was
finally able to admit it to myself when I spent half my time last night talking
about you to some random woman. I love you. I have for some time. Because...
Because it's you and I don't know how to explain how you got in my extremely
well hidden heart. But there you are."
Isaac allowed himself a small smile. Then a larger one and soon his face was
split in a grin, all cheeks-dimpling, eyes-crinkling laughter sounded in the
room as the younger boy lurched on his lover and nuzzled a cheek with his nose.
“Say it again.”
"I love you." Jackson breathed into Isaac's ear.
Isaac kissed the words off the corner of Jackson’s mouth. “Took you long
enough,” he mocked sneaking hand around the man’s neck.
Jackson laughed, it was loud and carefree. Isaac did that to him, gave him
worries to weigh down Atlas and made him feel like he could fly. "I'm worth the
wait."
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