Chapter 15
Oliver
Since jumping out of bed this morning, my heart’s been pounding erratically, nervous excitement bubbling under my skin.
I cannot believe what happened last night—did I really have the balls to call Huxley while I was jerking off?
And then we came together on the phone! I’ve never done that with a girlfriend before, let alone someone I haven’t been out on a date with.
I pull my hoodie off, flustered and sweaty.
Part of me is worried I’m giving Huxley the wrong impression.
The last thing I want is for him to think this is only about sex.
But the sexual stuff is so strong that it’s hard to ignore.
Thoughts of Huxley are taking up a huge portion of my days.
I’m certain this is more than just sexual experimentation.
Coming out, well, that’s harder. I’m still struggling with how other people will react, how my life might change, or if I’ll be treated differently.
Truth be told, it scares me, and if Huxley doesn’t feel the same, then I don’t want to upend my life for no reason.
Not that I’m under any obligation to declare my sexuality to the world, am I?
Surely only Huxley needs to know I’m sincere in my affection and my intentions.
Speaking of the man, he’s been busy all morning with a faculty meeting then teaching back-to-back classes. We’d arranged to eat lunch in the teachers’ lounge today, but, after last night, I’m not keen to see Huxley in front of everyone.
I’ve been allocated an extra free period, so I log into the staff portal and search for Huxley’s timetable. Bingo! He has a planning period at this very moment, too.
I’m halfway through a text to him when there’s a knock on my office door.
Jason Whitmore, who is head of the sports department, sticks his head inside. “Hi there, Oliver. Would it be okay if I use your photocopier? The one in my office has broken again.”
“Of course. Be my guest. Have you got a lot to do?”
“Afraid so. Might take fifteen minutes.”
I put on a fake smile, but underneath I’m mildly pissed. “No worries, Jason. Take your time.”
I delete the half-written text asking Huxley to come down to my office.
His classroom isn’t an option with its glass windows and zero privacy.
Resting my forehead in my hand, I frown at the prospect of seeing him in the teachers’ lounge surrounded by colleagues.
I need to see him first, just the two of us.
Inspiration strikes and I inhale sharply.
“Everything okay, Oliver?”
My head snaps up to find Mr. Whitmore staring at me with concern. “Yes, just had a great idea for a class.”
“That’s awesome. I’m hearing good things about you, Oliver. Keep it up.”
“Thank you, Mr. Whitmore.”
Snatching up my phone again, I text Huxley.
Me: Can you meet me in the supply room in 5min?
Hardly anyone ever goes in the sports building supply room during class time. We’re almost certainly guaranteed privacy.
Huxley: Heading there now
Trying to remain calm and appear completely casual, I stand, grabbing a clipboard and pen. “Jason, just heading to the equipment shed.”
“Sure thing, Oliver.”
I duck out of my office, down the corridor, and slip into the supply room. Discarding the clipboard and pen, I lean against one of the shelves, trying to look cool. Pity my cheeks are flushed and my palms sweaty.
The door opens slowly and Huxley slips in, a shy smile adorning his cute face. Thank God he feels awkward too. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Huxley says, closing the door.
We edge slowly towards each other, and my mouth frantically tries to form words. “Hey,” I say again. Yeah, I’m really playing it cool today.
“Hi. Is everything okay? Are you regretting…you know?”
“No! No, that’s not it. I just can’t believe I did…
I mean we did that last night. I asked you here because I wanted to see you before lunch when everyone else will be there.
” I reach out and take Huxley’s hand before continuing.
“I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression from last night.
This isn’t just about sex for me. Honestly Hux, you’re all I think about. ”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans in and connects our lips—it’s tender and sweet, and my muscles turn to mush.
Without separating, I walk Huxley back until he’s pressed against the shelves.
Our tongues meet and the kiss deepens, pulling a groan from deep in my chest. Good lord, I could do this all day.
Out of breath, I reluctantly pull away. “What are you doing to me, Mr. Sinclair?”
“I could say the same about you, Mr. Turner.
“When I told you last night what I was thinking about—is that something you’d be into? Or do I have it wrong and you'd like to be the one to do the…” Shit, this is embarrassing.
Huxley giggles. “You can say it, Oliver. In fact, we should discuss it. But, to answer your question, I prefer to bottom. So yeah, what you said last night, I’d be into. But you may want to try things out and see what you like.”
“But what if bottoming scares the shit out of me?” I wince. “Sorry, no pun intended. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Was that homophobic? I’m doing this all wrong again, aren’t I?”
Huxley laughs, squeezing my biceps. “No, it’s fine. And it’s okay if you don’t want to bottom. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Okay, thank you.” I sigh with relief. “You’re right, we need to go slowly, one step at a time. But what if it ended up that I wanted to…um…bottom? What would that mean for us?”
Huxley pulls on my hoodie, tugging me closer. “Oliver, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. I prefer to bottom, but I can top if you end up wanting that too. You’re panicking. Breathe.”
“I am,” I say, inhaling deeply. “But I do want this. With you.” Pulling Huxley into a hug, I’m soon peppering kisses up his neck and over his jaw until our lips meet once more.
It gets hot and heavy fast, with Huxley’s warm fingers dipping under my shirt as my hands find his ass.
With my dick already hardening, we need to stop.
After one final suck on Huxley’s lower lip, I force myself to step back. “I wish our date was tonight.”
Huxley looks up at me, a little dazed. “I know. But I’m having dinner at my friends’ place—Maddie and Lara.”
“And I promised my mum I’d come over for dinner.”
I glance at my watch, realising it must almost be the end of the period. “We need to head back. Do you think we should leave separately?”
“Probably, just to be on the safe side.”
“Okay, you go first. But will you still come to the teachers’ lounge at lunchtime? I haven’t been all week, and I need to show my face.”
“I’ll be there,” Huxley promises.
He turns to leave, but I grab his hand, placing a kiss to his knuckles. “Bye, Hux.”
“Bye, Oliver.”
After he slips from the room, I wait for thirty seconds before heading back to my office.
After the footy team’s after-school training session, I head over to the teachers’ lounge, since I accidently left my lunch box there. It was Huxley’s fault: the man well and truly distracted me.
Lunch was great, though. It was nice to see Huxley more relaxed around the other teachers and joining in the conversation.
When I push through the door, I’m surprised to find Jennifer there, closing the dishwasher. School finished almost two hours ago, so most teachers have left for the day. “Hey Jen, why are you still stuck here on a Friday afternoon?”
“Oh, hi Oliver,” she says, turning towards me. “It’s my week to put the dishwasher on, and I had some essays I wanted to mark rather than take them home on the weekend. Why are you still here? Surely you must have somewhere to be on a Friday night.”
There’s an insinuation, but I choose to ignore it.
We haven’t spoken much this week, but I thought it would be better to give us both some space.
“I had footy practice and I left my lunchbox here. Tonight I’m going to Mum’s for dinner then catching up with my friend, Mark.
His girlfriend is pressuring him to propose, and I think he wants some advice. ”
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “Typical man. Doesn’t know when he’s got it good.”
I grab my lunchbox, which is still on the table where I left it, ignoring Jennifer’s comment.
I deserve it. Just like Jennifer deserves a man who loves her wholeheartedly.
One day she’ll realise that can't be me. Until then, I’ll try to repair our friendship, because I really do care about her.
“You’re right, and that’s what I’ll be telling him. ”
Jennifer leans back against the kitchen bench, crossing her arms over her chest. “You haven’t been around much this week. Where have you been spending all your lunches?”
“Oh, I’ve had extra work to do, and I’ve been helping Huxley settle in.”
“Yeah, I noticed you two seem to have hit it off. So, he’s gay? I saw the pride pin and some of the teachers have been talking about it.”
That stops me in my tracks. “Yeah…he is. What have you heard?”
“Some approve and some think it’s inappropriate to display your sexual orientation in a Christian school. I think Bob was going to ask Williams what the school policy is.”
Bob is one of the senior English teachers. “Why would he do that? Is he trying to stir up trouble?”
“Maybe. It’s funny, you never really know who’s homophobic, or racist, or whatever, until the issue is put right in their face.”
I try to look calm, but inside I feel sick.
“You don’t think Williams will have a problem with it, do you?
I mean, Australia has anti-discrimination laws for a reason.
You can’t discriminate against someone because of their sexuality.
” I pause, trying to read Jennifer’s expression. “Do you have a problem with it?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know about Williams—he is of an older generation and very religious—but no, I don’t have a problem with it. I think he’s brave. The LGBT+ kids need representation. It obviously doesn’t bother you.”