THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Christopher

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

Christopher Amos Allen had been teaching college-level English for
three years now to the Noveulis Correction and Adult School, but
this was the first time in years that he was nervous. He was going
to sit down in the same room during detention period for two hours
with that new kid Jensen Ross Ackles. Today was Jensen's first
day, and he had already gotten involved in some nasty scuffle with
the big bully Toby Smith. Chris heard that Toby got beaten bad.

Jensen was said to have started the whole thing, so he got
detention, a light punishment given just because he was a new kid.

He shut the door behind him, saw the new kid, and tried not to
stare.

Kid? Jensen Ackles was a young man in his earlier twenties, Chris
guessed. Jensen looked dangerous, however. The man was very
pretty, true, but no one would see those wild, definitely adult
eyes and mistook Jensen for anything but trouble. And that well-
muscled body clothed in tight blue tank top and snug faded
jeans... wow. This man was sex on legs.

Trying to regain equilibrium, he tried to affect a teacherly tone.
Stern. "You're too old to fight with kids," he said.

Jensen looked up and stared at Chris insolently. "Nobody tries to
pick my locker and lives."

"So you have to beat that boy up instead of dragging him to the
discipline teacher?"

"I understand the discipline teacher doesn't like punishing his
own son. Why else do you think I and not he is in this fucking
room?"

Right. Chris sighed. This school is run on fucked-up politics.
Sometimes he wondered whether he should have just quitted and go
work somewhere else, but damn it, he liked teaching. "Fine. But
thanks for coming here and serving your sentence. Now let us just
spend two hours coexisting amicably in this room and hopefully we
won't see each other again."

Jensen just stared at him. Chris was getting disconcerted even as
that treacherous cock of his jumped in joy. "What are you staring
at?" he asked.

"You're quite stacked for an English teacher. You must work out...
no, you look like an ex-Army dude. You are, aren't you? Wow."

Chris deliberately opened his book and made a show of
concentrating on the book. Yet he was always aware of Jensen's
eyes burning onto him - what was the boy staring at? - and he
ended up unable to concentrate on one single word. Yet it was by
sheer will that he forced himself not to look back. Finally, two
hours passed, and Chris closed the book with relief. "You may go,"
he said only a little shakily despite the butterflies in his
stomach.

Jensen walked out without a word. Chris sat back on his seat, his
heart still beating too fast, the burn of the man's intense eyes
on him still lingering like an aftershock.



Chris was stunned when he walked into class the next day and found
Jensen sitting in the back of the class, that mocking look in
place as always. His knees wobbled slightly as his heart took a
hard knock back at the sight of such a beautiful young man. Well,
it wasn't too bad, right? This was a class of upper teens, and
Jensen was probably the oldest of them all. It wasn't as if Chris'
lust was perverse. Besides, it was probably temporary.

He hoped it was temporary. Look at the bright side - if Jensen was
in his class, the familiarity would surely breed contempt. Or
maybe the man would get bored and start cutting classes. Yeah, no
big deal. Chris tried to tell himself that he was relieved, but
even his voice sounded strange to his ears.

"We have a new student today, class. Say hello to Jensen Ackles."

No one did. This wasn't a friendly class.

Chris sighed quietly and asked the class to take out their copy of
Shakespeare's The Tempest. As usual, he would begin a new study of
a literary work by giving an introduction to its synopsis,
history, and place in English literature. His well prepared speech
came out awkward, however, as Jensen kept staring at him, always
mocking. Chris tried not to let it show that he was slowly being
chipped away at his stoic control, because he wouldn't give that
smug fucker satisfaction. He wouldn't yell at Jensen to stop
staring at him as if he was some freak. Chris wasn't a freak. He
wasn't that scrawny fatherless kid everyone picked on years later.
He wouldn't be that wild, out of control kid again.

But his fists were clenched so hard, it was only his will that
made him speak in that friendly, easy manner to a class that
wasn't interested. His control was frayed so hard when Jensen
stretched, that white shirt of his taut and highlighting the two
dark nubbed points of the man's erect nipples, and the man's
taunting act of lifting one brow knowingly enraged him like
nothing could in years.

He was never more grateful for the bell.



TWO

Jensen stared helplessly at the long rows of shelves. How the fuck
was he supposed to find any book in this place? The woman at the
help counter gave him a shit look when he walked in, as if she
expected him to steal a book, so he'd be damned if he asked her
for help. Shakespeare... fucking Temple book, where the fuck was
it?

"Jensen?"

He quickly turned, and sure it was, Mr Fucking Allen was standing
there, staring at him in surprise. Yeah, Jensen was surprised too.
Gee, he in a library, wow, surprise indeed. He felt embarrassment
well up - yeah, what was he fucking thinking? Cursing himself as a
fool, he started to walk away from this place.

"Hey, you need any help?" Mr Allen asked.

The man's voice was kind, and Jensen couldn't detect any mockery
in the voice, just surprise. Fair enough, he guessed, because he
knew people like him rarely visited the library. But he'd die
before he admit that he had sat there in class that morning and
listened to Mr Allen raptly. That man had a way with words that
made Jensen want to read the fucking Temple book himself. Plus, Mr
Allen was gorgeous. He was built like an Army dude, and his face
was honest and open in a way that made Jensen almost believe that
the man could be trusted.

"The book you said..." he mumbled, embarrassed by his
helplessness.

"The Tempest?"

"Yeah." Jensen felt the burn of embarrassment on his face. "The
Tempest."

"Here, I have a spare copy I can lend you. It's mine, not the
library's, so you can take your time with it." Mr Allen actually
smiled almost teasingly, and Jensen felt his own lips curling
upwards in response. That man really was hot. "Just return it to
me one day," Mr Allen said.

"Sure," Jensen said. That was all he could say, because his brain
had shut down when Mr Allen smiled like that and those beautiful
brown eyes seemed to twinkle as if he and Jensen had just shared
something funny. "I - "

"See you around." Mr Allen made to leave, and then turned back,
upon which Jensen's heart leaped in hope. "Jensen, please don't
cause trouble in my class. I saw how you look at me today, and
even if you think I'm an asshole, you will keep that opinion to
yourself and not disrupt my teaching. You got that?"

Jensen shoved his fists into his pockets so that the teacher
wouldn't see him clench them in his anger. His temper always
flared too quickly, and Mr Allen's words - fuck, that man thought
he was shit, did he?

"Why are you staring at me like that in class, Jensen?" Mr Allen
asked quietly.

"I thought you know everything," Jensen sneered.

"Okay, I see. I guess we are having some misunderstanding here. I
thought you were mocking me with your staring. Tell me, Jensen,
why exactly were you staring at me?"

With that, he had succeeded in deflating Jensen's anger. "I..."
Jensen relaxed his fingers. "I..." Fuck. "I think you're the
hottest piece of ass I've ever seen. I was staring at you because
I was having a hardon for you. Happy now, Mr Allen?" he sneered.
He deliberately put his hands on his waist and thrust his crotch
forward a little, but enough to prove that he wasn't just mocking.
"Have a nice day, Mr Allen."

The fear on Mr Allen's face was actually pretty rewarding. Jensen
felt like walking on air as he took the book from Mr Allen and
tightly held on to it. The Tempest. He hoped the book was as fun
as Mr Allen hinted it was.



Chris was on good terms with his colleagues, but he preferred to
keep some distance between he and his worklife. He might never get
promoted since he refused to kiss principal ass, but he was happy
with his pay and job and he wanted his life after work to be as
far apart from the school as possible.

His favorite way of life was a solitary one, one he kept from the
days of his not too pleasant childhood through his Army days and
now, his days as a teacher after his honorable discharge. Always,
a nice glass of root beer would bring up his mood and make him
look forward to a night of good books, music, and winding down. He
usually did some weights and running to keep in shape before he
turned in for the books and music, hence he was running and
sweating profusely when he reached his apartment.

He pulled his soaked tank top over his head and used it to dry his
torso as he climbed up the stairs. As he pushed his key into the
keyhole, he turned. Seeing no one, he shook his head and entered
his apartment.

Around the corner, Jensen leaned against the wall, one hand
cupping his aching cock as he closed his eyes and tried to shut
out the powerful images burned into his retina, of Mr Allen's
amazing physique, that heavy bulge in those brief running shorts,
and the way those powerful thighs bulged and relaxed with each
step Mr Allen took... oh shit. His fingers pressed into his
throbbing cock, wishing he could ease the dull aching need
pounding in his blood like a sledgehammer...

He had never been this horny before. He had many fuck buddies
before in his wasted youth, but Mr Allen was different. He was so
much a man, a man who was kind to Jensen as well, and it was a
heady cocktail of desire that made Jensen want to knock on the
door and beg to be fucked. Then he cried out as his cock exploded
violent jets of his come in his jeans. He shuddered as he fell
back against the wall, and as his strength left his knees in the
force of his climax, he slowly let himself fell onto his knees.

His laugh was weak but damn, he had to laugh. Who would have
thought school would be so fun?



THREE

Chris was suspicious. These few days Jensen was unusually
attentive. He didn't say anything disruptive, and he handed in a
report that was actually decent. Not wanting to disrupt the
student's newfound enthusiasm even as he was very suspicious of
it, he just suffered in silence.

He was in hell. He didn't dare walk too much because his cock was
hard and causing an obscene tenting in his pants. Jensen's clothes
were always tight enough to emphasize his lean physique and he sat
in a casual, spreadlegged manner that showcased his well-formed
legs and generous package too well.

He walked back into class after the second time he rushed to the
toilet to jerk off, and he knew he couldn't take it any more.

Fury tore through him as he imagined Jensen sniggering as the
student deliberately teased him. He was no man's fool. He refused
to be, and hadn't he proven that? He was a soldier, he was buffed,
and he was now a new man. He wouldn't be that angry kid he was,
no, he was now Chris Allen, a respected citizen now. He wouldn't -
pain ripped through him, and he looked down to see that he had
tore through the skin of his own palm with his fingernails.

It was all Jensen's fault. That cocktease. That fucking prick.

Chris later emerged from the nurse's office with fresh bandages
around his wounded hand. Jensen was waiting for him, and that
fucker had the audacity to look concerned.

Jensen gasped when Chris grabbed his throat the moment they had
the storeroom door closed behind them.

"Fucking prick, you think you can taunt me with your bitch teasing
ways, eh, punk?" Chris growled. He slammed Jensen's head hard
against the wall. "You motherfucking bitch!"

Jensen only grabbed Chris by the man's head and pulled the man
down for a kiss.

The kiss destroyed what little that was left of Chris' veneer of
civilization. He pushed Jensen up against the wall, their fingers
fumbling with each other's clothes. Jensen gasped when Chris
shoved the man's shirt as high up as he could and latch his lips
around one taut nipple. Then Chris was pushing his thick cock into
Jensen. Jensen cried out, only to be muffled by Chris' hand over
his mouth, as he felt as if he was being split open by that cock.
But the sensation of being so packed fully seemed to set off a
nerve at the lower region of his spine, triggering him into
powerful convulsions of orgasm. And then Chris was with him, that
powerful cock spilling warm, virile ejaculate to scorch Jensen's
insides.




FOUR

"What's a conflagration?" Jensen asked, looking up from his book.

Chris just tossed the dictionary to him.

Jensen laughed as he rolled onto his back. He was fully unclothed
on Chris' bed, struggling with his homework. "Come on, Mr Allen,
you're already fucking me for several days now. How about some
pointers?"

"Fuck off, Jensen. Next you will be asking me for answers to the
exam. I don't do that." Chris, just as nude, looked up from his
designing the weekly curricular report on his personal computer.
"If you get at least a B-, I'll reward you with a blow job."

"I can't wait." Jensen looked at the books around him, library
books as well as books borrowed from Chris. What had Chris done to
him? The man's bookworm habit was rubbing off on Jensen, but
Jensen didn't mind. He actually found himself looking forward, not
just to their illicit fucks in the storeroom during school hours,
but also their fucks and talks and nights just lying here, like
this, bantering as they did their respective work. Sometimes
Jensen would snuggle up to Chris and Chris would read him a choice
excerpt from a book. Jensen listened, captivated by the sound of
Chris' voice.

His old friends would laugh. Hell, Jensen would laugh, if he
weren't so besotted. Chris' readiness to help him, even without
the fuck thrown in, was something new to him, as was Chris'
willingness to tutor him (except when it came to Chris'
assignments for the class). He even found himself listening to
Chris talk about anything, hanging on to every word.

Chris was cool, he decided. The man was a good fuck and a really
cool dude.

"Don't you have a family to go home to?" Chris asked that night as
he played with Jensen's hair.

"No. You're not bored of me already, are you?" Jensen asked,
hoping his alarm didn't show in his voice. Keep cool.

"You and your eagerness to learn are fast making you my best
student," Chris said, spoiling his mentorly tone by sliding his
hand down Jensen's thigh. "And I'm sure one day you will make a
great life for yourself. You're smart and a fast learner."

"Really?" Jensen's ego swelled from his teacher's compliments.

"Oh yeah. I can't believe I'm with a guy like you. Your kind used
to bully me shitless when I was a kid - yeah, I was a skinny and
shy kid. I toughed up so that nobody will ever laugh at me again
or make fun of me."

"No wonder you lost your head when you think I was laughing at
you," Jensen remarked. "You dumb fuck, Chris, don't you know
you're my favorite teacher ever? Not because of your big dick, but
because - oh yeah - you are so much better than my fucked-up
foster parents - fuck - you treat me so good, like no one else, I
don't think I want to leave this place ever. It doesn't feel good,
me sleeping in the back of that workshop, I want to stay here with
you, Chris, you hear me - ooohh, yes - I love you, I think."

Chris, his mouth feasting on Jensen's ass, didn't hear one word.



Chris ran into the nurse's office as soon as he heard. Jensen,
sure enough, was sporting a bruised left eye and seemed to
bleeding from every orifice on his face. "Jensen, what - how could
you be so fucking stupid?" To the startled nurse, he said in a low
hard voice, "Get out!"

The timid nurse fled.

"You're going to be expelled, Jensen," Chris said. "Damn it, after
all the progress you have made, how could you be so stupid and
throw everything away?"

"I did it for you!" Jensen managed to say painfully through his
battered mouth. "They called you a fucking moron and said you
talked funny and boring, so I decked them."

"Oh Jensen," Chris said in dismay.

"You don't get it, do you? I won't let them talk shit about you.
You are the best, kindest, and just the best man ever to me. I
have to fight them."

"Why? Let them mock me," Chris told him. "But you are more
important here, Jensen. You shouldn't have... oh Jensen, I'm not
worth it."

"Yes you are."

Chris looked at his student, surprised at the ferocity in Jensen's
voice.

"You're the best. If I can't stay with you and be with you, at
least I can say I fought for your honor."

"You have read way too much Ivanhoe," Chris could only say. And,
"Oh, Jensen."

"I know I'm trash, but you'll help me, right? I want to be a good
man with a good job and reputation so that one day, I will come
back a man you can be proud of and want to be with. I hear that's
corre - coral - long-distance college shit I can take up to get a
degree."

"Don't talk too much; your jaw will hurt," Chris said, tenderly
touching Jensen's wounded, battered face. "Yes, I'll help you."

"I guess our fuck is over?"

"You want it to be over?" Chris asked quietly.

"Do you?"

"No," Chris said honestly. "I know I should break it off, but no.
My life has meaning when you're in it, so no, please, don't go."

"I won't go," Jensen told him. "You can't make me go, I'll keep
coming back."

Chris smiled brightly and embraced the other man, minding Jensen's
bruises, but Jensen held him back tightly.



2002

"You have lived with your school teacher for five years? It's not
really ethical, is it?"

Jensen Ackles just shrugged at his new friend Wes Bentley's
shocked face. Chris moved to New York when Jensen accepted the
position of junior executive in a financial firm, and he taught in
the orphanage for minimum pay (all the orphanage could afford). It
didn't matter: Jensen was making enough to support their simple
lifestyles, and Chris liked the job. Wes was working in the
orphanage (and some say sleeping with the patron), and he and Wes
soon struck up a friendship of sorts despite their disparate
personalities.

Wes' friends were also gaping at Jensen. "I know of people having
affairs with teachers, but actually settling down with one?" Jesse
Bradford asked aloud. "He must be some schoolteacher."

"Obviously you haven't seen that teacher," Dawson Smith said.
"He's very... dominating."

"Oh shut up and deal the cards," Jensen growled. Still, his hand
absently played with the dogtag he wore around his neck, Chris'
army dogtag, before reaching for his cards.