Thread: The Teacher Isn't Always Right [Aember + Mei]

Sorry I didn't reply yesterday. Drama, drama, drama. Losing your virginity was always weird. Especially in a situation that seemed like rape. The first time Quinn lost his own virginity wasn't particularly pleasant. He was rather forced into it it was borderline rape, really, with a bit more consent than the current situation. And he didn't quite enjoy it at first. Granted, his relationship was a bit rocky with his then boyfriend, so there might've been some resentment involved. But it was always afterwards, that he had started to slowly relax and enjoy it. Briefly, Quinn had to wonder if he was doing the same thing with his teacher, replacing the role of his ex-boyfriend, and forcing John through his own experiences. . . . Okay, maybe that was a little too deep for the current situation, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around it at the moment too much damn psychology. And maybe Quinn was too much of a damn bleeding heart, because now he just didn't think he could go through with forcing John through it. Quinn sighed, and stopped digging his nails into John, faint red crescents visible on the older man's pale skin. No, suppose you didn't, he muttered quietly. And damn, there was that sudden guilt again. The conscience that everyone had, but one that Quinn just didn't have much use for. After all, he had forced John into every intimate act so far - and he knew that John hated him quite a bit for it, as well. Giving a frustrated huff, having completely ignored the light pushes he had gotten from John, and noticing how the other man had gone completely slack. . . Dammit, he just couldn't do it anymore. I guess I'm a fucking liar, then, he said, hands sliding around to John's back, tracing the faint vertebrae, the hard ridges through the skin. And still, the teen laid his head there on the older man's shoulder, feeling a bit at a loss. There was the guilt there, yes, there was the frustration that he couldn't bring himself to do it, and there were some other unidentifiable emotions somewhere in there. This was just ridiculous, of course. Because after this, he would simply go back to being a student in the older man's class, and there would always be the hate from John because of yesterday. He had intentionally humiliated the other man, of course, so the teacher did have every right to hate him. Stupid boy. And now he would never get what he had wanted, and now he just felt stupid and frustrated at everything, but mostly himself of course. I'm still sorry, he whispered ruefully. Not that you believe me, of course. His words sounded somewhat muffled, because he was trying to choke back unwanted emotion. And he now had the ludicrous idea just to stay in the classroom and cuddle, of all things, though he knew that John would most likely just push him away now, gather himself, and then leave, and things would simply go back to normal. Not at all what Quinn wanted. He was such a dolt, just like Pinnochio. Much better to be a wooden doll than a real boy. Much better to pretend that things were normal, than to wish for what he couldn't have and have it blow up in his face. But still, he pressed himself tighter against his teacher.listu