by Amy Lane
“This was here?” Larx tugged on his lower lip. “Saw it last week. Looked it up.”
Aaron had no more questions as Larx plundered his mouth, taking Aaron’s surprise and using it to take over completely.
For once, someone else was in charge.
Aaron had no idea he needed that until it happened. Larx took over the kiss, took over his pleasure, made the decision to steal time from life. Larx moved his hands confidently under Aaron’s shirts, ignoring the sweat and instead kneading at Aaron’s pecs. Wow. Oh wow. You didn’t usually grope your own chest during masturbation—Aaron tended to go for ground zero. Larx’s attention made him weak, until he was leaning back against the building, lost in the haze of the kiss and letting Larx do… whatever he wanted.
What he wanted to do was shove up the shirts and pull away from the kiss to lock his lips around Aaron’s nipple.
Aaron had to put his all into staying upright, and he knocked Larx’s baseball hat off in an effort to tangle his fingers in Larx’s hair. Oh… oh man. Yes. That. That right there.
“Larx!” he whispered.
Larx moved to the other nipple, lips pulling, tongue and teeth playing, and Aaron bucked unconsciously, pretty sure he could come right then and there, even if it meant running back to his house with come in his shorts.
“Oh God. Larx, I’m going to—oh!”
Larx sank to a squat, pulling Aaron’s sweats down with him.
Aaron stared at him for a moment, shocked to be naked and open in the air. Larx leaned forward and licked the head of his cock gently, then looked up at Aaron, a serious expression on his face. “We can wait for a bed, virgin,” he said quietly, every word puffing against Aaron’s damp skin.
“Then I’d have to kill you,” Aaron breathed, sagging against the building. This was ludicrous. They were grown-ups—Aaron was a law enforcement officer. Larx was… oh God. Didn’t matter what Larx was. He had his mouth open and was wrapping his lips around Aaron’s cockhead and—
Larx was the maelstrom, the fire, the passion Aaron had been missing from his life.
“Ahhhh….”
Larx had pulled back and was playing a dangerous, teasing game with his tongue and his breath and the careful edges of teeth, inflaming Aaron, drawing out this sudden lightning strike of arousal until Aaron could weep from it.
“Larx,” he begged. “Please… fast this time. We’ll go slow next time, I promise—ah!”
Down to the root. Larx took him down to the root, mouth clamping tightly as he pulled back in a long, slow pull.
It had been so long. So long since Aaron had felt any hands on his skin but his own. So long since a person he wanted, had yearned for, had touched him.
So long since he’d met Mr. Larx, the kids’ science teacher, and thought, Damn.
Larx raised a hand to tickle his balls and Aaron was lost.
“Damn!”
It was the only warning he gave, but Larx? He didn’t even hesitate, swallowing hard and fast and consistently until Aaron was drained, shaking, and dazed, watching in wonder as the sun peeped through the base of the trees.
He tugged Larx’s hair gently, grateful when Larx pulled up his sweats and his underwear as he stood. Larx leaned in and regarded him with anxious eyes, and Aaron smiled, tilting his chin and taking his mouth.
He recognized the taste of his own come—Caro had liked that maneuver too. But Larx was still new, and the taste of his come in Larx’s mouth gave Aaron a surprising satisfaction.
His. His come. His man. It was such a basic thing.
Larx pulled back. “Was okay?”
“Sh.” Aaron turned him around and draped his arms over his shoulders, pulling Larx back against his body. “Sh. No worries. Look. The sun’s coming up. Let’s watch.”
The hush of the new day swept over the forest, and Aaron clung to Larx as tightly as he dared.
THEY HAD to hurry after that, because they both cut a pretty fine line between their exercise time and their leaving-the-house time.
Kirby had already left by the time Aaron got home, a note that said Must go faster on the table next to a cooling bran muffin.
Rotten kid. Aaron ate the muffin as he ran out of the house after his shower, still coming down from the high of what had happened that morning.
Inspired by Kirby’s note, when he got to work, he scrolled through Jurassic Park memes and came up with one about T. rexes and Mondays, and sent it to Tiffany in hopes it would make her laugh.
How passé.
Well, it wasn’t Dad, you’re an asshole, so he was taking it as a win.
But while he was looking at his phone, he decided to go full-on sentimental. He sent Larx a text with a smiley face and a Good run this morning. Inane, and a vicious understatement, but it wouldn’t get Larx fired or outed either.
I thought so, Larx returned, and Aaron had to squint at the series of symbols that followed.
“Huh. Eight, equals, equals, D, squiggly line, greater than, zero?”
That made no sense. He pulled the phone back and squinted again.
8==D~~>0
And saw something that looked damned obscene.
Oh my God. I didn’t know you could illustrate a blowjob with ASCII art.
Creative minds have no barriers. Want to do it again?
More than I want to breathe. When?
Got no idea. At this rate, we may have to wait until Thanksgiving vacation.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I thought we were grown-ups who could wait for time and opportunity.
I am old. Old and decrepit. I may die before I see you naked. That would be a tragedy.
I agree. But I have no solutions. Give me time though. I used to be good at finding ways to get laid.
I like this skill. You should acquire it again.
I shall endeavor to do so—oops, there’s the bell!
Aaron stared at his phone for an embarrassing amount of time after that, until Eamon came out of his office and claimed his attention.
“George, do you object to doing football duty again?”
“For homecoming? Not at all.” At least Larx would be there—not to mention their kids, for easier supervision. “Do you expect anything big?”
Eamon grimaced, passing a hand over his close-cropped, gray curls. “Not necessarily. It’s just that Mr. Olson is out of town again, and Julia’s mother… she hasn’t been too, shall we say, authoritative on laying down limits for her girl. If she decides to drive into Tahoe like she did last weekend, there could be one hell of a party at that really expensive house.”
Aaron stopped staring moonily at his phone and paid attention. “Those parties have been getting bigger and bigger,” he said grimly. And the rumors coming out of them—Kirby had actually looked through social media to make sure there hadn’t been any atrocities committed. Too much had hit the news about kids being assaulted while they were unconscious for Aaron to just assume everything was okay at the Olson house because nobody had complained.
“I’ll ask Kirby if he’s heard anything.”
“And Principal Larkin too,” Eamon said seriously.
“Yeah, Larx too. He’ll know.”
Aaron put his phone in his pocket and turned back toward his list of morning inquiries.
Eamon didn’t move but instead stood there, regarding him thoughtfully.
“Uh, anything else you needed?”
“No, not really. I just heard good stories about how that boy handled himself Friday night. Everyone said you were right by his side, but he did most of the talking.”
Aaron tried to think if he’d mishandled himself. “Well, sir, it is his school.”
Eamon smiled. “It is indeed. Don’t mind me, Aaron. I’m just… I’m relieved for the school is all. High schools are getting more and more complicated these days. Nobili was a decent man, but he retired none too soon. I think you and Larkin will have a good partnership there.”
Aaron fought the flush that threatened to creep past his col
lar. “Thank you. Some people you just… you know, click with.”
Eamon looked at him sharply and raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he said neutrally.
The flush won. “Oh what?”
“Nothing, son. Just you and Larkin… you two be careful. That’s all. Just… you know. Be careful.”
“We will be, sir,” Aaron said, not even pretending not to know what he was talking about.
“I’ll back you, son. I’m ready to retire, and you’re who’s good for this town. Do let me know.”
It was all he could ask for. “We’re new,” he said quietly.
“You won’t be secret for long,” Eamon said. Then he chuckled. “Not with that blush. My God, boy, how old are you?”
Eamon walked off, still laughing softly, and Aaron kept his seat for a moment, trying not to hide his face like a kid. Apparently you were never old enough.
“YEAH, I’LL keep an ear out,” Larx said the next morning during their run. “That kid gives me the heebie-jeebies anyway—shades of my ex-wife, I shit you not.”
Aaron shuddered, angry all over again. The thing that had twisted him the most was Larx finding a reason for his ex’s behavior. Forgiving her as much as he could.
When you’re young, you think being good is all about duty and honor and loyalty—and Larx had shown that. But he’d shown compassion too, and Aaron was in awe.
Such a good man. Some people thought they didn’t exist.
And what his wife had done…. Aaron frowned. “You think Julia’s that bad? I mean, I know about the parties, but—”
“The thing is,” Larx said before he could flail any longer, “that people assume students are innocent. That they can be misunderstood by teachers—and sometimes that happens. They think that if maybe the parents got some classes or quit drinking or stopped working so much, the kid would just pop up magically and be a decent human being.”
Aaron smacked him in the arm. “And sometimes it happens.” Because Larx claimed he’d been that kid.
“Yeah, but that took work on my part. It’s what keeps us working, believe it or not—the hope that the kid will learn. But sometimes the damage is fucking done. Think about it—we spend what, fifty-five minutes a day with between fifteen and forty kids? How much can we really do in that time?”
Aaron had never thought of it that way. “About as much as the kid’ll let you?” he hazarded.
“Right? And they pop out of Mom with some of the basic hardware already dialed in. Is this kid anxious? Timid? That can be worked on, but the kid came out with that. Is the kid aggressive? Physical? Well, yeah—sometimes Mom and Dad make that happen, but sometimes Mom and Dad work on a kid who’s physical in the first place. Olivia is majoring in theater. Christiana is majoring in science. They both like cats.”
Larx was working up a head of steam here, and Aaron was just as glad he was the one talking. For once Aaron could actually keep up with him. “So what’s that have to do with—”
“Julia Olson?” Larx kicked at a rock in the path and missed, spinning around in an effort to keep his balance. “She’s a fucking psychopath. Vanity and arrogance working on a weak mind—or something like that. It’s a Jane Austen quote. Olivia was a fan. But it’s like the quote—Julia had the raw materials of a psychopath, and her parents refined that ore to pure grade.”
Aaron shivered in spite of himself. “You’ve run up against that ore cart before?”
“A friend of mine,” Larx confirmed. “She had… well, a shitty year. I can’t put it any better than that. And the administration really did have it in for her. I mean, they weren’t subtle—the principal used to stalk her class just to see if she’d slip up.”
“Scary.” Aaron had worked for bosses like that before, in the military and out.
“Yeah. And her grades weren’t in order—not her fault. Her computer was a mess; the IT department hadn’t updated it in years. But this kid Ashley. Man, this kid scented blood. And she went in for the kill. Dana hadn’t done anything wrong, but the way this kid went on? It was frightening. Between the admin and Ashley, it was a fucking witch hunt. They might as well have started the bonfire in her classroom so they could burn her at the stake.”
“What happened?”
Larx grunted. “In the end? Not much. Dana changed the kid’s grade because hey, she needed the job. The kid graduated, because that’s what they do. The asshole principal was there to fuck with people another year. But Dana was a wreck. For months she hardly smiled at her classes. She spent her own money getting her computer updated. She taught only the textbook and none of the awesome stuff that made her so good to begin with. And I’m pretty sure she developed an ulcer. So on the one hand—nothing. But on the other hand—”
“Lotta damage,” Aaron conceded. They reached the part of the track where they looped around the trees and ran through the edge of a meadow. The sun hit them here, and Larx—a little ahead of Aaron—was bathed in gold.
Larx turned and met his eyes, and his expression changed. Suddenly neither of them were thinking about Julia Olson and the way a spoiled, self-indulgent narcissist could mess with someone’s life.
“Yeah,” Larx said, answering a question Aaron hadn’t asked. “Yeah.”
Aaron grinned at him, his feet pounding, his lungs working, his blood pumping, and his heart… falling.
They ran in silence for a moment, and then Aaron brought himself back to their conversation with a sigh. “So what do we do?”
Larx grunted. “Do? Well, the dance is a closed system. The kids need to get there by eight, and it ends at eleven thirty. They can leave early, but homecoming king and queen are crowned around eleven, and believe me, Julia thinks she’s got a chance, so she’s not missing that shit.”
“Nice,” Aaron said sourly.
“I’m saying. Now, the party could happen later, not going to lie, but usually….”
He turned enough so Aaron could see him waggling his eyebrows. “Everyone wants to get laid on homecoming,” Aaron deduced.
“Bingo. Again, no guarantees, but that’s been the way the kids have done it since I’ve gotten here. Every school has its traditions.”
“I hear ya. Some schools it’s senior ditch day, some schools it’s getting knocked up during prom—”
“Here they get knocked up during homecoming and get it over with. You understand.”
They were rounding the bend for Aaron’s house now, and Aaron was irritated. Watching Larx’s mind work was pretty awesome, and Aaron wanted more.
“I understand. So the game on Friday?”
“Well. There’s the school bonfire after the game and the homecoming dance the next day. The bonfire is across Olson Road at that clearing—”
“I know it,” Aaron said grimly.
“Yeah—Baby Lane. Anyway, I can do two things. First is send out a mass voicemail to all the senior parents about how serious infractions against school policy can keep a kid from graduating. I’ll throw in being drunk or disorderly or arrested or caught in morally compromising positions—” Larx actually had to catch his breath here. Lots of big words.
“Yadda,” Aaron panted, “yadda.”
“Right.” Crunch-thud, crunch-thud. “So I can do that, and I can give an extra call for supervisors. If we set up an entrance and a perimeter, kids can’t come and go from the bonfire, and nobody can go to the party and come back to the bonfire or the dance to collect his buddies. Now some kids are gonna break the rules ’cause kids are dumb. But not all kids are dumb. We put the fear of God into the more timid ones, and we can manage the troublemakers.”
It was a sound plan, one that indicated a lot of experience dealing with mob psychology. Well, that was the job description, right?
“That’ll help,” Aaron agreed, slowing down considerably because this here was his cooldown. Larx traditionally slowed down here too, and then ran the next mile and a half to his house before cooling down again. Aaron wasn’t sure what that did to his workout, but he knew he was very g
rateful for Larx’s company.
“Well, shit.” Larx stopped pumping his arms and put them on his hips for the last two hundred yards.
“‘Well, shit’ what?” Aaron asked, grateful to not be running anymore.
Larx looked away, toward the sun-glowing horizon and his house. “We missed our make-out window,” he said with no irony at all. “I was….” He scowled. “You know. Looking forward to it.”
Aaron laughed weakly. He’d done the same. “Well, I don’t know what to—”
“Christiana is staying with a friend Saturday night,” Larx said in a hurry. “I know the parents—Schuyler’s a good kid—so I’m not just abandoning her to Julia Olson’s phantom party. She hates Julia Olson anyway.”
“Oh!” Aaron said, surprised.
“I don’t know how late you let Kirby stay alone or—”
“I have to work nights sometimes,” Aaron confessed. “Kirby is usually okay. He’s not going to the dance, so I can just, you know, be late.”
“We’re, uh, having our own bonfire Sunday,” Larx said, shy all of a sudden. “So, like, if you guys wanted to come over again—we’re toasting hot dogs and marshmallows and stuff.”
“I….” Aaron paused. Would he? He didn’t know. He hadn’t dated anyone he liked. “Someday I want to stay the whole night,” he confessed.
Larx squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. “We may have to wait a year,” he said, sounding depressed. “I get it. Kids and coming out—not so much fun.”
“There should be a holiday for it,” Aaron said. “All the amusement parks should be half-price, and we could wrap a rainbow ribbon around our kids’ arms, send them down to Six Flags, and we could stay home and get busy like grown-ups.”
“We’re going to have to settle for college,” Larx said. And then—probably on impulse—he paused, grabbed Aaron’s arm, and pulled him in for a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Have a good day, Deputy. Let me know if you or Eamon have any questions, okay?”
Aaron closed his eyes, wanting him closer with a ferocity that hurt. “Larx?” he asked, suddenly troubled.
“Yeah?”
“You… God. I’ll do what I can Saturday night, okay?”
