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.