by Jerry Cole
"Wow," Victor said, and Nate could see some very real shock in his eyes. "How can you... How do you cope with something like that?"
Nate shrugged. "I guess where I grew up it's normal. Like, it's a challenge, but everyone's life is a challenge in some way or another."
"Where I grew up was the total opposite," Victor said, blushing a little. "But I guess I got all the advantages, to be honest. I'm not sure if I actually had much of a challenge."
"You're a gay guy, an alternative guy, I guess that must have been challenging," Nate replied.
Victor shook his head. "But I was rich, and white, and I lived in a nice area."
"It's not a competition," Nate said with a slight laugh. "Just because someone else had it worse doesn't mean you didn't have things to overcome."
Victor was still blushing, shrugging a bit, avoiding eye contact.
"Are you actually ashamed of having a good upbringing?" Nate asked.
Victor nodded. "Well, yeah. Everyone wants that sort of two-parent household, with the owned-outright house, all that shit. But I know that most people don't get it."
Nate knew people existed who had not grown up in economic dead zones, but he always thought the American dream home and family were just that: a dream. "So you literally had the sort of white picket fence type house?" he asked.
"Not the type. Back at my folks' home they still have a literal white picket fence. And the lawn that's natural but always green. The walls and windows that are never dirty, flowers everywhere, your neighbors wanting to deport their own gardeners," Victor said, suddenly stopping and blushing even redder. "I'm sorry it's just — "
"Just how it was," Nate finished for him.
"How it is. These people never change. That's why I don't want to live there," Victor explained.
"But you had a literal white picket fence?" Nate carried on, trying to picture it in his mind, for the first time wondering if he was imagining it to be too perfect or not perfect enough.
"A literal white picket fence house, yeah," Victor said with a self-conscious laugh. "I guess I just thought everyone lived like that. I'd never met anyone who hadn't and I guess that later on I didn't want to think about how everyone else lived."
"That does sound kind of spoiled to me," Nate said, pausing to think a moment. "Or maybe it's more normal than my upbringing? I guess I never thought about it much either. I always thought everyone lived in constant debt, that everyone's parents work a load of jobs. First time I met a friend with two parents, whose mother stayed home, I thought he was rich."
"I mean, on a global level I'm pretty sure I'm rich and spoiled," Victor mused. "But I dunno which of our upbringings was more representative of the American kid experience."
"Maybe neither. Maybe I was less privileged than average and you were more so than average and we're both just total weirdos with no concept of what an ordinary childhood is. I mean, we're both math teachers, we're weird," Nate said, squeezing Victor's hand.
It felt like he was having to reassure Victor about how easy of an upbringing Victor had experienced. It was odd. Nate was used to being pitied, lorded over, or bullied. He wasn't used to the posh boy being the one who was awkward about his childhood. And yet Victor was clearly more uncomfortable and ashamed than Nate was.
"Are you really that embarrassed about it all?" Nate asked.
"Yeah," Victor replied flatly. "It is embarrassing. What is there that I could possibly say or do?"
"You don't need to say or do anything," Nate said, feeling a little confused but already starting to work out where this was going.
"Anything I say or do could end up offending people. Not you necessarily, but some people. My parents were the sort of people who got suspicious when a couple of Hindu Indians moved in down the street, because they were worried about terrorism. My aunt wanted me to convert from being bi, and my parents now tell her I'm fully straight just to shut her up. I was raised in the middle of ignorance. And I'm so scared I'll hurt someone I care about because of it. Someone like you," Victor said, his sentences chasing one another so that he barely had time to take a breath as he spoke in that panicked way people did when they were nervous. Nate was used to it.
"I don't really care, to be honest," Nate said, squeezing Victor's hand. "Some people are resentful, but we all have our stuff to deal with, and it's not like you choose who brings you up, where, and on what money."
"I know, but... I just don't want to upset you. Because I like you," Victor said.
Nate couldn't help but laugh, and his hand darting up to cover his mouth was not fast enough to suppress the chuckle. It was hard not to laugh though. For someone so alternative and edgy, Victor sure was a cliché. A cute cliché.
Victor's eyes were drawn to Nate, not with the usual anger that followed an unexpected emotion, but with a combination of confusion and stress. "Did I say something wrong?" Victor asked.
"You are literally speaking like every 'nice white guy' ever," Nate said.
"Am I?" Victor asked, looking almost disappointed.
Nate nodded. "Yeah, not an ounce of uniqueness there. Nowhere near as edgy as you're expected to be. One out of ten points for originality."
Victor looked like he'd wanted to be offended, but somewhere through the second sentence he began to smile in a blend of self-consciousness and humor. "I'd never worried about being a product of my upbringing more than I'm worrying now. Am I basic?"
"So basic," Nate replied with a smirk.
Victor laughed. "I knew it! No amount of tattoos can hide that I'm a basic upper-class boy."
"And no amount of suits and ties can hide that I'm one of 'Riverdale's Finest'," Nate replied, feeling a strange mix of discomfort and pride at using the sarcastic, derogatory term which had been reserved for the black and brown people of his neighborhood.
"You're not one of them," Victor said flatly.
Nate paused, realizing how shocked Victor was to hear those words. "I am," Nate replied. "We're not the way people say we are, but I am one of those kids, from those neighborhoods. I am Riverdale's finest."
Victor squeezed Nate's hand. "It just feels wrong to think of you in that light."
"Well don't think of anyone in that light, then," Nate replied. "I don't have to prove I'm a good guy to be free of the negative things associated with the people I grew up around. We're all cookies cut from the same dough, in a way."
"This is what I mean when I say I'll mess up," Victor replied, sounding a little defeated. "I'm sorry, and I didn't mean to imply that anyone you know or love is a bad person."
"I know you didn't. But you're open to learning and I think that's pretty damn beautiful," Nate said, stopping still and looking into Victor's brown eyes.
Seemingly reading the pause as an invitation, Victor leaned in and kissed Nate. A panic gripped Nate's heart. He was not used to doing things like this so out in the open, in broad daylight. But the panic gave way to excitement. It was safe out there, in that part of town. And the realization that he was safe, combined with the excitement of kissing a man in public, left Nate feeling a range of emotions and sensations he had not experienced before, like he was in a movie.
"Let's go back to my place," Victor said with a grin.
For a moment Nate hesitated. A part of him said yes, but a part of him said wait. The part that said yes was winning, although marginally, so he followed Victor. But the voice that wanted to wait hadn't shut up. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend some more time in Victor's bed. It was that it wasn't his primary motivation. He wanted to just spend more time with Victor in general. He wanted to enjoy Victor's company, to have fun, to be friends first and foremost, and lovers second.
It felt a little bit like the physical aspects of the relationship were coming first, were coming too fast. Maybe that was just how it was normally for Victor? It certainly seemed to come naturally to him. Nate didn't feel used. In fact, as they moved into Victor's bedroom and Victor showered Nate's face and neck with kisses, Nate felt
adored like never before.
All his earlier panic was forgotten as Victor pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of Nate and plunging his tongue into Nate's mouth. Nate ran his fingers through Victor's perfectly spiky hair, untangling the gel and making it softer each time his fingers passed through. The scent of Victor's skin and gel was intoxicating. The heat of his body, leaning over Nate, and the weight of him was just right, just what Nate needed to feel secure and aroused at once.
It was more than that. It was more than just a simple sensual fit. It was something Nate had never experienced before, a hunger he had only seen in movies, but never witnessed in person, much less experienced.
There was something beautifully animalistic about Victor, about the taste of him, the way he moved, like a hungry tiger as he continued stripping Nate. He was a beast, a human reverted to its most primitive form, ready to satiate his own appetite and Nate's at once, ready to devour. It was almost scary, but in a good way. Nate couldn't even begin to understand it, let alone explain it, but he had a feeling that this sort of raw passion was how it was supposed to be, that this was how someone ravaged you when they truly adored you.
Before he realized it, they were both naked again. Victor looked as beautiful as ever, and he seemed to be taking in Nate's naked form with the same appreciative glances as their first night together. At least Victor's erection seemed more than happy to see Nate lying naked on the bed.
Nate had not seen a pierced cock before Victor's. It was kind of hot, but even after playing with it and even taking it into his mouth before, it made him a bit nervous. What if he hurt Victor? What if he tugged it, or it got caught on something? The first time he'd seen it the shock had been dulled a little by the couple of pints they had shared. But seeing it now, fully sober, in broad daylight, it was kind of terrifying how someone could even do that to themselves. Had it hurt? It had to have hurt, right?
Victor climbed back on top of Nate and continued kissing him, taking away Nate's anxiety again all of a sudden. It was like this magical ability that Victor had, to sweep away any concerns Nate felt.
Nate could feel Victor's cock brush against his own as they kissed, the almost sharp cold of the piercing teasing him. It was a lot nicer than he would have expected. A lot smoother and smaller and less hostile than it had looked when he'd first seen it passing right through Victor's glans. It felt as dainty and delicate as the tiny bits of metal that adorned Victor's lips, cheek, and tongue. And kind of nice.
As Nate felt the piercing slightly catch between them, pulling slightly before releasing, Victor let out a deep moan. Well, there was that question answered: If it was tugged or caught? Apparently Victor liked that. Nate pushed up hard, trying to recreate that same slight tug, bringing forth yet another moan from Victor's lips.
Pausing and pushing himself up onto one arm, Victor reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a bottle of lube. For a moment, Nate wondered whose turn it would be—not that he minded. It seemed Victor had different plans. Adding a little lube to both their cocks and massaging it in so they were both slick and warm, Victor continued to rock his hips, leaning his body weight into each thrust. As their soft moans began to synchronize, Nate realized they were experiencing almost exactly the same thing at once. There was no top and no bottom, no missing out from a missed angle, each thrust brought the same wave of pleasure to them both.
Nate hadn't done this before. Well, not like this, not on purpose. Awkward teenage experimentation aside, he had never gone further with non-penetrative contact. It hadn't even occurred to him that this was something people actually did, and now he wondered why not. Thrusting up against Victor, kissing him deeply and feeling their hard cocks pressed firmly together was an experience he wanted to have again and again. Nate raised his legs up, pressing his knees on either side of Victor's hips, as though trying to make their bodies meld together.
Victor parted the kiss, gazing down into Nate's eyes with a determined yet hazy look, like the raw animal he was. Nate pulled Victor back down flat against himself, burying his face in the crook of Victor's neck, inhaling the rich scent of him, feeling the full weight of Victor pressing through both their bodies. Nate knew that in another thrust or two he would cum, and Victor couldn't be far either. Just the thought of Victor shooting all over both of them was bringing Nate even closer.
They clung to one another as they came, pressing together like the two sides of a vise, Nate moaning, Victor with a muffled grunt. It wasn't until the initial haze broke that Nate realized Victor had been digging his nails into Nate's shoulders. Just like an animal, right until the act was complete. Victor pushed himself up, looking admiringly down at Nate's body, his eyes still glazed over slightly, chest still heaving, desperate for air.
Looking up at Victor, Nate felt somewhat intimidated, and yet also almost proud of himself for taking such an intimidating looking, strong, raw beast of a man, and leaving him flustered, confused, exhausted and content. Victor looked so handsome like that, flushed and sweaty, panting desperately for air, eyes glazed, his abdomen and cock covered in their combined fluids. Without thinking, Nate raised his hand, gently touching Victor's hard abs before taking the sticky mix to his own lips. The combined taste of them was unbelievably good, and all Nate could think of was how much he wanted to taste Victor's cock again already. He froze. That was a bad idea. They barely knew one another. He reached aside and wiped his hand on a cushion instead.
Chapter Eleven
Victor awoke on Monday morning, surprised to find Nate was still there in bed with him. In a way he'd expected Nate to have performed a disappearing act again. Not that Victor minded the cuddles. Nate looked so cute as he slept. Victor felt bad for missing out on it last time. Lifting his hand to caress Nate's soft, warm cheek, Victor wished he could spend all day with him again. Just in bed. Not necessarily doing anything sexual, even. Just in bed together, kissing, cuddling, talking, relaxing. It was so soothing to have Nate near.
Remembering it was Monday, Victor groaned a bit to himself. In only half an hour they'd have to get up and get ready for work.
Today was an even more difficult day than usual, Victor realized. Nate's assessment. And it was nothing personal, but... Victor could not give Nate a good review, not if he wanted to protect himself. He had to make sure that this guy did not get the job, because Nate getting a job meant Victor losing his.
Victor had still kept the notes, even as he'd realized what a wonderful, lovable person Nate was. He just couldn't give up his job so easily. And he knew how it would go. Nate would get a temp position, then a full teaching position, and then the position of department head would be mysteriously "obsolete" and Victor would be gone for good. So he had to hand in his overly critical, carefully staged reports.
He felt bad about it. At least it would be mostly anonymous and he would be able to get rid of the competition. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He was simply protecting himself. He was not attacking Nate. He was not attacking any of the other teachers. He was just defending himself against a system and a principal who seemed determined to drive him out of Riverdale. And he'd be fucked if he was going to let himself be driven back home to his parents. They were nice people, sure. But they were also pushovers and lovers of social order, surrounded by the sort of bullies and judgmental bigots who would make Victor's life hell.
Out here he could be accepted for who he was, although perhaps not liked. Out here he could date and go places, wear whatever he wanted to, enjoy his work, all without someone leering over his shoulder calling him derogatory terms in an effort to somehow magically change who he was deep down.
No, he had to stay in Riverdale. He had to deliver the report.
So long as Nate was not there, it would be a simple matter. They could even remain friends and lovers afterwards. After all, Nate would never know who it was who had thrown him under the bus. He wouldn't even know he had been thrown under the bus at all, in fact. He would probably just assume that the review wa
s weighted fairly and he was judged unfit for the position. He was that sort of a positive, happy guy.
Victor felt kind of guilty about all this, especially because he knew Nate to be so sweet and forgiving. It wasn't Nate's fault he had been brought in to sabotage Victor's work and replace him, after all. It wasn't Victor's fault either. Neither of them should have to pay for the circumstances surrounding their encounter, but in one way or another, one of them would have to. And, childish though it may sound, Victor was there first.
Waking Nate and getting ready for work together felt odd. Even weirder that Nate had kept a suit in his car so he just had to shower and get dressed. The strangest part of it all was that it all worked so seamlessly. They didn't seem to get under one another's feet, there were no disputes about coffee or timing. Their mornings worked so well together, right up to the drive to work.
The morning in class passed fairly uneventfully. Victor knew there was nothing legitimately wrong with Nate's teaching methods, behavior, or anything really. But there had to be. Because if there wasn't, then there would be no reason to get rid of him. So Victor focused on every tiny detail, every minor mistake that any novice teacher would make, everything that might make Nate look bad. Because if Nate looked bad, then Victor was safe.
***
The time for the review arrived, and Victor had talked himself up into a state of confidence. He knew he could do this. It would be over and done in half an hour and nobody would know what had taken place.
Walking into the room, Victor felt a slight chill. Along with Mrs. Heeley, Mrs. Rodriguez and Nate were waiting him to join them. Nate was going to sit in on his review? Was that even allowed? How could he say what he needed to say with Nate listening? Nate might be a nice guy, but he would probably realize just how cruel Victor was being. So Victor found himself recalculating his entire plan as he sat down to begin the review. He couldn't be as mean or as determined as he wanted to be. He had to be nice, kind and gentle.
