Teaching Teacher

Chapter One

"Yo, Teach! Don't do it. You'll become a bum fucker. Come out with us. We'll give you a good time." The teenage girls' platform sandals clacked on the cobblestones as they laughed, waving as they ran past.

Sebastian Keo turned to see some—he presumed—of his senior pupils disappear into the distance. His stomach churned. Was this what he had to look forward to when his sexual preference became well-known?

Unfortunately, being new to the school, he hadn't been able to recognize who the speakers were. If he had recognized them, he’d be having words with them, along the lines of discrimination and bringing the school's name into disrepute. Seb had no intention of overlooking that sort of ignorant behavior. As it was, he held a strong suspicion that his next school assembly would feature those points heavily.

Hopefully, he was going to have a good time here. He wouldn’t let a few silly schoolgirls change his mind about that. Seb had only lived in this tiny Scottish town for a few weeks. Just enough time to settle in before term started, and then it had been full-on "I'm your new dominie." The name had intrigued him before he'd learned it was another name for a head teacher.

After being appointed at the very young age of thirty-two, he'd searched for his dream home and found it. Only a mile out of town, it was originally a tiny bothy or farmhand's croft. The previous owners sympathetically improved the place to have two bedrooms, each en suite, plus a lounge, dining room, study, and kitchen. Seb fell in love with it at first sight. Everything about it filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. Now, if only he could fall in love with a real live person as well with as an inanimate object, life would be a hell of a lot better. Seb missed the warm, welcoming emotions experienced when a person had a loving partner in their life.

Yeah, I'm wishing for the moon here, if those kids are anything to go by. It seems like it's not going to be easy to even meet someone as a friend, let alone anything else. Ah well, let's hope I at least get a good pint.

So here he was, two weeks of the school term over and about to have his first night out in his new hometown. He wouldn't have even realized a pub for gays existed if he hadn't heard one of his pupils boasting about her brother's pub. "He's bent, but hey, live and let live," she'd said. "If he gets everyone gay to go to the Jolly Roger, then gotta be better for us. We won't make the mistake of coming on to someone who doesn't see us like that."

Her friend had shushed her as he walked past. Not, he realized, because she thought he was gay, but because of what had been said. Seb had continued on his way, shaking his head and making her blush when he'd responded mildly, "Live and let live, Stacy. There but the grace of God."

Now, he hesitated, standing by the door, with his heartbeat erratic. Go in or go home? Resolutely he opened the door. He was not a coward or ashamed of his sexuality. He was what he was and comfortable with it.

The smell of beer and bodies hit him, along with an unexpected blast of noise. Taken aback, he stopped momentarily before love and laughter enveloped him. The atmosphere gave him all the encouragement he needed to take the next step.

The band playing loudly at the back of the room wasn't just loud ; they were also out of tune. A few couples were dancing, even though there was no dance floor. They used the tiny floor space between the band and tables.

The guy next to Seb cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

“Get a voice, man; pull your kecks up.”

“Go back tae the day job.”

The good-natured heckling they gave the band tickled Seb, as did the way it was taken in the joking manner obviously expected.

Whistles and foot-stomping and shouts of "Away back ta bed," and "You sound like a cat with a sore throat," mixed with laughter and cat-calls.

Seb realised the band was giving back as good as they got.

The violinist made his instrument screech and shouted, "You're all tone deaf."

The guitarist added his mite. "You don't know good music," and "Away and bile yer heid."

The latter made Seb chuckle. He'd had to look that up in his dictionary of Scottish slang. He still wasn't sure what "go and boil your head" really meant.

Seb smiled as his heartbeat returned to normal. So far, so good.

His spirits lifted as a friendly hello was sent his way from the most drop-dead gorgeous man he had ever seen. Blood pooled in his groin, and his cock perked up as his body responded to the admiration he fancied he saw in the man’s eyes. The man stood behind the bar, expertly pulling a pint. His long, elegant fingers curled around the glass in a way Seb imagined they would curl around something much more intimate. He looked tall, with dark red hair that curled just over his collar. As he turned and spoke to a customer, a glint of metal flashed in his mouth. Fuck, a stud in his tongue . Seb could just imagine the sensations that stud would cause as it moved up and down his cock. Oh shit! One of my wet dreams . There could be a big mistake about to happen. He willed his prick to behave and not strain his denims as he walked across the room, dodging between customers and tables until he reached the bar. He smiled at the barman, hoping he wasn't about to get his face kicked in.

He didn't. The drop-dead gorgeous guy smiled back.

"Hey, what can I get you?"

Wow! The deep voice with its distinctive Scottish burr washed over him like liquid chocolate. How could he answer that and stay legal?

"A pint of Real Ale please," Seb answered. Bor-ng. Can't I do better than that? All witty repartee left his mind. "The Red-something one, please." That was innocuous enough, wasn't it?

Evidently it wasn't, because the barman laughed.

"I'm Ruari McGregor, known as Red. I'm damn sure I don't have a pint in me. But you're welcome to try."

"Seb Keo."

He held his hand out to have it shaken firmly. He believed one could tell a person's character by their handshake. A limp, damp hand was enough to put him off a person straightaway. This handshake felt promising. His hand was taken in a solid grip, with no bone-crunching macho posturing or one-upmanship; just a short decisive shake.

"Oh ho."

Ruari looked at him. The admiration in his eyes made Seb blush.

Hell, I haven't blushed since Tommy Coleman tried to kiss me in the showers at school.

"The new dominie, eh?" Ruari paused and winked.

Seb's pulse jumped. How could one wink make him decide all his Christmases had come at once? Should he wink back? He compromised by smiling and nodding.

"You, er, do know what type of people drink in here?" Ruari asked. He passed Seb a glass full to the brim with ale.

Seb grinned and nodded. "My type."

He took a cautious sip of the liquid. Its nutty aroma tickled his nose, and he savored the smooth, bitter taste as it slid easily down his throat.

"Well now. That's a blessing for me. And a sad thing for my sister and her friends. Stacy McGregor. Senior six. Tall, dark hair," Ruari said. "She and her mates think you are, and I'm quoting here, although I do agree with the sentiments, 'a bit of a dish.' "

He laughed. Seb realized he must look as astonished as Ruari did. Him, a pin up? That was a turn up for the books. The glow of smug satisfaction spread though him.

"Yeah, well," Ruari said. "I have a habit of telling it like it is. You in a relationship?" Ruari's words did nothing to dissipate it.

Seb shook his head, hardly believing his ears. This sex-on-legs man thought he was a bit of a dish? He felt as if he'd won the lottery. "Are you?"

Ruari copied his action. "Nope. Well, I wasn't, but things are looking up, I hope." He smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Seb blushed. He couldn't help it. "Ah, well." He spluttered, and then chuckled. "I always say all things come to those who wait, and hell, I sure have waited long enough."

"Nice one. Look, I'm due a break. Okay if I spend it with you?" Ruari asked.

The question knocked Seb for six. He nodded his agreement. Things were definitely looking up.

"Great," Ruari said. "Hey, Dan," he called to the other barman. "I'm taking ten. I'll be in the snug if you need me."

Dan waved his acknowledgement and carried on pulling pints at a dizzying speed.

Seb watched as Ruari grabbed a glass full of what looked like cola and lifted the bar flap to join him. Ruari gestured with his free hand. "If we go along there, there's a wee lounge where we can get away from the alleged music. I'm not sure that's what it is, but hey, the punters like them!" He rolled his eyes. A group at the table they passed gave Seb the once over.

"Ooh." A small, effeminate looking man spoke. "Trust our Red to see you before anyone else."

Ruari smiled briefly and walked past with a succinct, "Sorry, can't stop. Only got a short break." He hustled Seb away and into the tiny room at the back of the pub. "Sorry about that. I may run this place and need to bite my tongue at times, but I'm bloody sure I'm not letting that little weasel patronize me. Or get his claws into you. Oops. Sorry. That was rude. Did you want me to introduce you?"

Seb shook his head as he sat down. "Can't say I did."

"Thank God. You know, if I'm honest I'm not even sure Damien is gay. Just likes to think he is. I bet if Steve or Dave over there came on to him, he'd run a mile." He nodded toward the other table where a couple sat chatting, half-full glasses in front of them.

Seb laughed out loud. "Well, even in the interests of experimentation, I'll pass on that if you don't mind."

"I'd mind if you didn't," Ruari said. "We tend to try to ignore him. After all, we're saying people should be more accepting and practice live and let live. So, we have to do as we preach. Mind you… Well, let's say if someone met him in a dark alley, and as long as we had watertight alibis, I don't think there would be one of us really sorry if someone showed him the error of his ways." He rolled his eyes, and raised his eyebrows to show it was a joke. "Yeah, okay. I don't mean that, and it's a crap attitude, but most of the time so is his." He took a gulp of his soft drink.

Seb watched him swallow with a dry mouth. Ruari's action was beautiful; it made Seb salivate, and his body tightened.

Hell man. You've got it bad if a bloody swallow gets you hard.

"Him apart, we're a friendly get-along-with-people bunch in here," Ruari said. Thankfully he seemed oblivious to Seb's state of mind and body. He looked at his watch. "Shit. Look, sorry. I need to get back. The cinema kicks out soon, and there's always a few more coming in, then. It was very good to meet you. I'm hoping you might have guessed I'm attracted but wary. Sorry, that's the way it is. So, will I be seeing you in here again?"

Seb nodded. He wondered if it was it wishful thinking to imagine he saw hope in Ruari's eyes. He's right to be wary. I sure as hell am. "Now I've found you, I don't think I'll forget you." How much of that is double talk, then?

Ruari stood up and put his hand briefly on Seb's shoulder. A tingle of awareness ran through Seb, making his skin shiver.

"Good," Ruari said. "I'll look forward to it. Enjoy your pint, and if you can, tolerate the music."

In a weird, masochistic way, Seb enjoyed both. The pint and the one he followed it up with were in perfect condition. A bit like Ruari, he decided. He chuckled inwardly at his fancifulness. The smooth flavors tricked through him as he drank, and he savored every drop.

The band was everything promised, and his fellow customers were friendly. Whether it was the fact he had been sitting with the boss, or just the way the others in the pub were, he didn’t know. He was chatted with, brought into conversations, and made to be a part of the community. A couple of hours passed. The pub had filled to capacity, and the noise levels rose. Seb found himself shouting so he could be heard, along with most of the other customers.

No doubt his throat would suffer. He'd pay the price the following day. His head thumped with the noise, but Seb didn't care. He was enjoying himself.

Seb could hardly believe how disappointed he felt that he didn't speak to Ruari again but only saw him behind the bar. Ruari pulled pints and mixed drinks at a rate that made Seb dizzy—and Seb had worked a bar for many years whilst studying.

With a final swallow, Seb finished the last of his drink, stood up and said good-bye to the two guys he'd been chatting with. "Better go. Thanks for the company." He put his jacket on, and the man nearest to him grinned.

"You're welcome," he said. "Will we be seeing you in here again? We're in most Fridays."

Seb nodded. "Oh, I reckon so. It's good to find a place to drink with people I can get on with."

The other of his two companions laughed. "Some more than others, eh?" He nodded to the bar where Ruari was lifting the flap to come around from the serving side.

Seb put his hands to his face and realized his cheeks were hot. He must be the color of the tomato juice on the bar shelf. "Ah well, who knows," he said. The words sounded lame to his ears. "But all being well, I'll pop in next week." He sketched a wave and made his way to the door. Ruari waylaid him just as he reached it.

"Were you going without saying good-bye, then?" Ruari's tone was light, but Seb fancied he saw hurt in the other man's eyes.

"I didn't want to, but you seemed busy." Seb was aghast the other man might think he didn't care enough to speak to him before he left. "Apart from all that, I wondered if it was just hot air earlier; be nice to a new punter you know?" At the look in Ruari's eyes—definitely hurt—he stopped suddenly. "Oh fuck. No, I hoped it wasn't, but you were busy, and I didn't want to presume."

The darkness went out of Ruari's eyes. He nodded. "Okay, I'll buy that. After all, you don't know me from shit. However, I'll tell you here and now, no hot air, except the crap you're spouting now."

Seb grinned. His heart grew light, and he burst out laughing. That's me told, then.

Ruari grinned back. "Yeah well, and you're not presuming. Not unless I am as well?" he said as he ended on a note of interrogation.

Seb shook his head, still grinning. Life was definitely looking up. "Nope. Both thinking the same things, and both I reckon thinking take it slow and steady?"

Ruari nodded. "So?"

"So, I'll see you next week sometime." He deliberately didn't make it a question, and Ruari didn’t treat it as one.

"Sure." Ruari hesitated, then leaned forward and gave him a brief hug, which Seb returned. The tingles it evoked were reminiscent of gentle rain on his skin. His anticipation of what might be in the offing rose hot and relentless, like an erupting volcano. Seb left the hug with reluctance before he waved and headed off down the road.

He would pop back in at some point before long, he was sure of it. Even if those first prickles of awareness proved to be nothing more than the "oh, here's someone new" feelings that went no deeper. He knew he'd found a friend and a lot of like-minded people to socialize with.

***

Being plunged into another school week with all the teething problems associated with a new, important role, Seb had little time to think about the Jolly Roger, or its owner. He saw Ruari's sister Stacy a few times—it was hard not to in a school this size—but that was it. He discovered that he arrived at his desk early and left late with hardly time for a coffee in between. Seb found some consolation in that it wouldn't be forever, but for now it seemed like it. By the time the following Friday came around, he was more than glad it was the end of the school week. The morning assembly was on the subject of acceptance. He saw more than a few pupils squirm and look away. Satisfied he'd made his point, Seb dismissed his pupils to their last day of classes in the school week and headed for his office. He would be ready for his two days away from the school and its environs. The last dominie was a hard act to follow; he'd been well liked by pupils, staff, and parents. Seb knew there was still a lot of suspicion regarding him, his single status, and to some of those who knew, his sexuality.

Dismissing his thoughts, he started on the e-mails left for him to answer. Seb grinned as he remembered the moans and groans that he and his friends had given when they found out typing lessons were compulsory at school. Now he realized how far thinking his school had been. He was pleased the school he had become so proud of running had the same ideas. He began to read and return his messages, and before long became engrossed. When the lunch bell rang it startled him. He jerked his hands, and a stream of gibberish appeared on the screen in front of him. He pressed the Delete key— vSD;ja in the middle of a letter to the director of education didn’t seem a very good idea.

His secretary looked around his door. "I'm off for lunch now," she said. Seb thought it unnecessary and had politely mention it to her. She did the same thing at the same time every day. A creature of habit . The thought amused him. "Do you want anything?" The same repeated question, nice but not needed.

He shook his head as usual. So much of his job seemed to involve sitting at a desk these days, Seb had decided not to eat at lunchtime; he didn't want to get middle-aged spread before he got to middle age. "I'm fine, thank you. I'll pop out to see how things are going in a second."

"I've switched on the answer phone," she said.

"I'll be back within the hour," Seb muttered to himself as she said the words. Although he grimaced inwardly, he smiled. "Thank you. Enjoy your lunch." It wasn't her fault the fact that she insisted he knew every last tiny detail irritated him

A few moments after she'd left, the phone rang. Absently, without taking his eyes off the report he was reading, Seb picked it up. He could hear a mechanical voice telling the caller to leave a message. Abruptly he cut in.

"Sebastian Keo. May I help you?"

"I do hope so." Although he'd never heard the voice over a phone before he knew exactly to whom he was speaking. The timbre of it flowed through him like a smooth mellow whisky.

"Hello, Ruari?" Damn, why did I have to sound so questioning? I'm bloody sure it's him.

"Yes, I was hoping you'd pick up. I thought there was a good chance you would. Old Poppy is a creature of habit." Seb could hear the amusement in Ruari's tone.

"Poppy?" Who the hell is Poppy?

"Poppy Clifford, your secretary."

"Ah." I never knew that was her first name.

"Oh yes, not very apt, but there you are. So…" There was silence.

"So?" Seb prompted.

"So, I, er, wondered if you were coming to the pub tonight. Usual great music and company." Seb was sure he could now hear hope in Ruari's voice.

"Yeah. Yes," he said. "I'd love to. Are you working?"

"No, well, I guess I'm always working, but no, not as behind the bar. I'm going to be sitting on the customers' side tonight."

Seb's heart lifted. "I'll be there around eight."

"Great. See you later. Oh, and Seb?" Ruari’s words came in a rush. "Glad you've moved here."

So am I. The call ended, and he reset the answer phone. So am I.

Even a fracas between two, testosterone-filled, fifteen-year-olds over a precocious seventeen-year-old Barbie look alike who should have known better than encourage them, did nothing to diminish his sense of pleasurable anticipation. He sent the girl back to her lessons. Gave the boys a short talk about being gentlemen—with not a lot of hope it was listened to or even understood—and made a mental note to bring the matter up at the midweek teachers meeting. He could see that particular argument running and running. At least until the girl in question became bored by playing the boys off each other and moved on.

He was thankful he'd never had to bother with that sort of stuff, not with girls anyway. Seb had known he was gay from a young age.

With a sigh of relief, he packed up as the end of school bell rang. He walked outside in time to oversee the daily stampede. His school covered a large rural area as well as the town, and the bulk of the pupils used a bus to get home.

The queues were anything but queues, more like pandemonium—pupils all over the place. It never ceased to amaze him how they all got onto the correct bus and the vehicles left within ten minutes. He went back inside, collected everything he needed, and locked his office. With a wave good night to the janitor, he headed to his car. He heaved a sigh of relief, then pulled his tie off and threw it onto the passenger seat. Seb had long thought that ties were designed as a torture instrument by women to try and put a man in what she thought was his place. Collared!

As he drove through the town center toward his home, it took all his determination not to turn and drive past the Jolly Roger just to see if Ruari was anywhere about.

Man, you have it bad. You don't know the guy, don't know what he wants, and you need to cool it.

He put the indicator on to signal his intentions to the car behind him, muttering under his breath. If it were any closer, he'd be towing it. What was it with idiots who assumed they had to drive so close?

Seb wondered how he could fill the next couple of hours. Once he arrived at home, a dripping tap showed him. With the washer he needed to change firmly stuck, it took more than a little elbow grease and sweat to fix it. Whoever had lived in the cottage before had obviously not changed the washer for a long, long time. At least now he wouldn't have to listen to the water torture next time he ate his breakfast.

Seb was glad to finally get it changed. He put away the tools he'd used and headed for the shower to clean up. The warm water cascaded over his body. He flexed his muscles to get rid of some of the stiffness. As he lathered the soap, he thought about Ruari, and his cock tightened. Would he ever share the shower with him? Seb could only hope. The idea made him move his hands downward and pay particular attention to the part of his body that stood up and begged for attention. With a groan, he remembered the time. If he wanted to be at the pub when he said he would, he had to get a move on. He resigned himself to a hard-on, rinsed the soap away, and switched off the water.

Down, boy. All things come to those that wait. Even if I do have to take things into my own hands.

It was a no contest whether he drove or walked to the pub. He was one of the don't-drink-any-alcohol-and-drive brigade. Just before eight he found himself walking along the street toward the bar. This time there were no pupils shouting abuse, just the so-called music spilling out of the open door.

As he went inside, the first person he saw was Ruari behind the bar, not in front of it.

Seb couldn't believe the disappointment as well as pleasure that washed over him. Why was he working? Making his way to the bar, he waited until Ruari finished the order he was serving, walked over to him, and then spoke.

"Hi." Lame again, Seb. No marks for originality.

"Hi, glad you made it." Ruari grimaced. "Sorry about this, short staffed." He rolled his eyes. "Here, let me pull you a pint, and I'll take five if you fancy." His tongue stud flashed as he spoke, and Seb's cock swelled and hardened. The thought of even the chance of that stud touching him was arousing. What it would be like in actuality he couldn't imagine.

Seb nodded. "Sounds good to me." He took the pint handed to him and sipped. He watched Ruari talk to the other guy behind the bar, before drawing a glass of Coke and walking around the bar.

"Let's go through to the lounge. No murdering of Stairway To Heaven in there." With a mock grimace returned with grins, Ruari rolled his eyes at the band, who were indeed making a mess of the classic song.

Seb agreed; there were only so many mangled cords anyone could put up with. He followed Ruari to the lounge.

Ruari sat on a table slightly apart from the rest. Accident or design, Seb wondered as he sat opposite. He soon found out.

"I'm glad you came in. Was it okay me ringing you at school?" Ruari asked. He took a sip of Coke, and Seb watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. Seb's mouth went dry. Why was such a simple thing so erotic? "I took a chance on Poppy and her routine," Ruari said. "But to my knowledge she's done the same thing every day for years."

Seb laughed. His heartbeat sped up as their gazes met. There was definitely some connection there, one he was looking forward to exploring. "Yeah, every day. Believe me, it was no problem, you ringing, I mean. I'm glad you did. I'll give you my mobile number. I'm easier to get hold of on there if you like."

"Oh, I like. I'll give you mine as well. I'm more than interested in finding out if we're as attracted as I sense we are. If you get my drift."

Seb nodded. "Get it and agree. Although, it fucking kills me to say it, I'll need to be circumspect. Respect for the job and the school. I owe it to the parents and governors, to say nothing of the kids. I got a mouthful of abuse from some of who were, I think, my sixth form girls as I was coming in here last time. I swear you'd think they were seven not seventeen."

Ruari rolled his eyes. "Just as well Stacy didn't catch them. My sister is never afraid to speak her mind, especially if she thinks there's injustice. I don't want to have to bail her out again for sticking up for me. Luckily the local sergeant is a relative. But hey, as long as we're honest and open with each other, that's no problem. My home's above here. There's an entrance to it from the next street, as well from the office. I don't always work behind the bar, not that you'll believe me, especially after I told you I wasn't working tonight. Like I said, short staffed, two down. Love life!" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter how many times I tell them not to get involved with co-workers, do they listen? Do they fuck? Well"—he laughed—" yes, they fucking do. Fuck, that is. That's the problem. So, Jason and Jamie have a row, both go off somewhere sulking, and the rest of us suffer. Talking of which, I'd best get back to work. I'm covering until nine and then I've more staff. It's less than an hour. Will you hold on for me? We could maybe go for a bite to eat or something." He seemed to be waiting anxiously for Seb's reply.

Is he joking? There’s only one possible answer. Seb's body tingled with anticipation. "No problem. I'd like that. Though, I think I'd better not have another beer yet. D'you do coffee?"

Ruari chuckled. "With me owning the place? Is the Pope Catholic? We're known as grab and go around here, because from eight a.m. we do take away coffees. Actually, I was told if I called it Three Gs , I'd do a roaring trade."

"Three Gs?" Seb was puzzled.

"Think about it." Ruari's crinkled his eyes up with laughter as he began to move away. "Hey, Steve, Dave." He addressed the two men at the next table. "This is Seb. He's not been in town long. Be nice to him and keep that asshole Damien away from him. I'll get you some coffee, Seb." Ruari waved and left the room.

"Sure, Red." Steve—or was it Dave—turned to Seb. "Want to join us? I guess you're waiting for Red to finish behind the bar?"

"Yep, and thanks." Seb moved his chair over.

"So, I'm Steve, and he's Dave." The taller of the two introduced himself. "I'm guessing you're a friend of Ruari's?"

"I hope so. Seb Keo." He held out his hand to have it shaken firmly twice.

"Well, Seb Keo. Welcome. You've got a good one there." Dave nodded in the direction Ruari had gone. "He's one of the best. He was damn sure we were going to have a pub where same sex couples could go. Somewhere we could be safe and have a good time, come hell or high water, and that's what we've got. Fucking marvelous."

Seb nodded. "Seems good to me. Except for the band." He grimaced. The other two laughed.

"Oh, you'll get used to it, or bring ear plugs. Bad music played loudly is the Friday night feature. It's almost an institution," Steve said. "Don't worry, around ten-ish, they go and someone else comes on. They will be very, very good. Not that I think you'll be here to hear it."

Seb laughed. "Probably not. Oh, thanks." The other barman, Dan he thought his name was, had brought him a cafetiere full of coffee. On the tray next to it, was a biscuit with Happy Gays written on it. It made him smile.

Dan saw his smirk, and spoke in an affectionate tone. "Yes, well, the boss has a sense of humor, and the person who makes them is his cousin."

"As well as being gay?"

"Nope, but evidently it's a family joke. When she was little, Cherie always got her Ds and Gs mixed up. So Happy Days on TV became Happy Gays …" Dan laughed along with the other three men. "Right, back to the bar, or the boss will be wondering who I'm trying to seduce. I know it better not be you." He winked and walked away whistling. Seb blushed.

"Got you there, then, Seb," Dave said. "You'll be known as Red's mate now. How long have you known him?"

Seb looked at his watch. "Oh, about two hours overall!"