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When Mr. Dayne asks to see him after class, Jaime can’t imagine what for. There are things he wants to imagine, though, so he spends the rest of the period picturing Mr. Dayne kneeling down and sucking him off as he sits sprawled in Mr. Dayne’s desk chair. Then he pictures them switching, him getting down on his knes, the clink of Mr. Dayne’s belt buckle as he lazily unzips his pants. He wonders what Mr. Dayne’s cock tastes like.
He’s tried to find out what his own tastes like, first by bending over and trying to blow himself (turns out he’s not flexible enough, not even close), and finally by asking Cersei one morning on the way to school. Her answer wasn’t really satisfactory (It tastes good, she’d said, it tastes like you, sometimes—and she blushed a little—it tastes like me), but it did lead to him hurriedly pulling into the KFC parking lot, jamming the car into Park behind the dumpster, leaning his seat back and letting his sister go to town all over his good-tasting cock. Getting a blowjob before first period was totally awesome, but it still didn’t help with his problem.
When English is over, Jaime makes sure the hem of his shirt is unwrinkled before walking up to the desk, but his heart sinks as he approaches. Mr. Dayne’s holding up two unmarked essays, and Jaime knows exactly what they are. One is Cersei’s, from Mr. Dayne’s other class, and the other is…also Cersei’s, just with Jaime’s name at the top.
“I’d recognize your sister’s writing anywhere, even if I hadn’t just read her paper,” Mr. Dayne chuckles. “Well-researched, clever arguments…and not a bit of artistry to be found.”
Jaime doesn’t know what Mr. Dayne is talking about. He can’t imagine writing a paper as good as Cersei’s are. That’s not his thing. Anyway, he’s so nervous now he’s almost not thinking about how it’s hard to see the outline of Mr. Dayne’s cock through the dark pants he always wears.
“Please, Mr. Dayne, don’t…” He can hardly get the words out. I’m such a dumbass, I fucked up, how did I not think this would happen? We both have the same English teacher! I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up
“Yes?” Mr. Dayne doesn’t look mad; actually, he looks kind of entertained. His arms are folded across his purple button-down shirt. Was it purple? Maybe Cersei would call it oxblood. She’s good at fashion stuff.
“Don’t fail Cersei, you can give me an F, it was my idea to copy, I’m a dumbass.” Jaime can’t stop himself from saying dumbass in front of Mr. Dayne. The words are all spilling out like he’s drunk. “She works so hard. I’m just so bad at papers, I don’t get this Byron stuff, and I didn’t want to turn nothing in, I—” He runs his hands through his curls. They feel tangled. “I can deal with an F, I’m bad at school anyway, but please, please.” She’ll be so mad, and Mr. Dayne is disappointed—or is he?
Mr. Dayne smiles. Jaime can see tiny Jaimes reflected in his purple eyes. “It is nice to see siblings who care about each other, especially at your age. I would do the same for my sister, too.”
Just get it over with already, Jaime thinks. He stares at the toes of his sneakers. He’s too miserable to even stare at Mr. Dayne.
“How about this,” he says at last. “Come see me tomorrow before lax practice. I will give you an in-class essay to write on a similar topic. You can take tonight to study your Byron, but no notes tomorrow, okay?” Jaime nods. “If you pass, I’ll give Cersei the grade I would have given her originally and we’ll forget this ever happened.” Jaime nods faster. “And this will never, ever happen again, do I make myself clear?” Jaime feels like his head’s going to pop off his neck and roll across the floor.
“Good boy,” Mr. Dayne says, and Jaime swears his teacher’s about to slap his ass, but he thwacks the desk with his hand instead. “Now get to your next class before you’re too late. Lateness is disruptive to your classmates as well as your own learning process.” And he winks. Winks! He said good boy and he winked. Teachers weren’t supposed to do that shit.
“Th-thank you, Mr. Dayne,” Jaime says, and no way does he give a fuck about anyone’s learning process right now, because he’s heading straight to the men’s room. He’s got a stiffy the size of a lax stick in his pants, and he’s pretty sure that would be more disruptive to his learning process than coming in a few minutes late to History.
~*~
Jaime’s sitting at Mr. Dayne’s desk, scribbling away about the gay poet dude they’ve been talking about for weeks. It’s hard to concentrate, harder than it is normally, because Mr. Dayne’s sitting next to him going through his personal emails on his Mac. One time Jaime glances up to see him attaching photos to an email to a “Dayne, Ashara” (must be that sister of his who he loves), and another time there’s a really long email from “Rhaegar” that ends in a few selfies and a link to a Goodreads account. Jaime knows Goodreads because Tyrion’s always going on about it. He wonders if “Rhaegar” is Mr. Dayne’s boyfriend or something. Maybe Jaime is doing a little more spying than writing, but he does have almost a page and a half.
“You have fifteen more minutes,” Mr. Dayne says, closing his laptop. Jaime jumps. If he doesn’t start writing fast, he’s fucked, so he starts scribbling away, and it takes a while for him to realize that Mr. Dayne is still sitting there and he’s watching.
He’s watching Jaime write. He’s watching Jaime.
Mr. Dayne smells like deodorant and clean clothes and today his pants are light grey and Jaime can see a bulge. Fuck. He can see a bulge. He hopes his sweatpants are baggy enough so there’s nothing for Mr. Dayne to see. His palms are sweating now. This pencil’s not going to stay in his hand. It’s going to slip, it’s going to—
Mr. Dayne puts his hand on Jaime’s wrist. “You can stop writing now, Jaime,” he says. “It’s been fifteen minutes.” No way has it been fifteen minutes, Jaime thinks, dropping the pencil and flexing his cramped hand. Maybe Mr. Dayne needs time because he’s going to go jerk off in the bathroom before practice. Fuck. Jaime imagines Mr. Dayne’s long, strong fingers gripping his cock, tugging it roughly, leaning against the wall for support as he spurts into his palm and thinks of Jaime, Jaime, Jaime—
“You all right there, Jaime?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jaime pushes his chair back with a loud scrape. “Totally fine. Just wiped out from all that writing.”
Mr. Dayne smiles. “You kids, huh? Two pages handwritten is nothing for an old man like me. I’ll see you at practice,” he says, and he punches Jaime in the arm. Mr. Dayne isn’t even old. Is he flirting or something? “I need a few to change from Mr. Dayne into Coach Dayne.”
Jaime bolts. He knows Cersei has been into a few dudes, maybe even fooled around with them, he never wants to know the details. But this is the first time he’s had a secret.
~*~
“Hey Jaime, Jaime. Jaime!” Addam’s voice is echoing so loud through the shower room Jaime can finally hear it over the sound of the water. There’s miraculously hot water today, and it feels good as it beats down on his arms and shoulders. He’s so sore from practice. Mr—Coach Dayne really beat them into the ground today. Jaime swears the coach’s eyes were always on him.
“Could you give me a second? Shit. Are your balls on fire or something?”
“Are we still on for Taco Bell later? I’m starving, dude.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jaime yells back. Tacos sound good right now, though not as good as Mr. Dayne’s cock sounds. “Just give me a few, alright?”
Jaime closes his eyes and goes back to enjoying the hot water. It feels so good. His whole body feels on edge, full of tingles.
Jaime thinks he hears footsteps, then, and he opens his mouth ready to tell Addam to fuck off, but the shower curtain flaps open, and it’s Mr. Dayne. Mr. Dayne. Mr. Fucking Dayne, coming into the shower still in his fucking teacher clothes because he hadn’t changed before practice after all, Mr. Dayne coming into the shower with the water still running and Jaime buck naked and his lips coming down with a crash on Jaime’s chest circling his nipple while long, strong fingers run over Jaime’s pecs. Fuck. What. Fuck. Jaime reaches a trembling hand out to turn off the water. He doesn’t want poor Mr. Dayne to get soaked.
“You have a perfect body, Lannister,” Mr. Dayne mumbles against his chest, nipping and stroking, slowly moving his lips down. Every place they touch tingles. “You’re everything a young athlete should be. You remind me of myself at your age.”
“Y-you can call me Jaime,” Jaime manages to get out. “Like class.”
Mr. Dayne thumbs his happy trail, and the strong thumb feels so good there Jaime gasps.
“So perfect…every inch of you.” Jaime’s rock hard and Mr. Dayne’s body is rubbing against him as he inches downward. “From the way you stare…I didn’t think you would mind if I worshipped it a little.”
“Fuck, no,” Jaime breathes. This is so illegal. It’s so illegal and he hopes Mr. Dayne doesn’t lose his job and fuck, Mr. Dayne has his cock firmly in his hand so he had better imagine Auntie Genna naked fast before he comes like the teenage boy he is and ruins everything.
“This cock is going to do awesome things for me, isn’t it?” Mr. Dayne asks, his purple eyes burning holes in Jaime’s own.
Jaime nods.
“We could get in trouble for this, right?” he chokes out, even though with all his blood suddenly feeling like it’s having a party in his dick it’s hard to tell if what he’s saying even makes sense.
“Oh, definitely,” Mr. Dayne says, “but for certain people, I’ll take great risks. In that way I’ m like the poets we’ve been reading about, don’t you think?” He winks at Jaime. Jaime’s becoming a big fan of Mr. Dayne’s wink.
“Um, I can’t actually remember anything about those guys right now,” Jaime says, and winks back.
Then Mr. Dayne sinks to his knees, getting his nice pants into all those puddles on the floor, and takes Jaime’s cock into his mouth. Jaime expects him to inhale it all in like he’s on a no-cock diet and it’s his cheat day, the way Cersei does, but Mr. Dayne starts slow, working his tongue around the tip and moaning a bit before wrapping his lips tight around the shaft and sliding them down, down, his tongue swirling the whole time. Mr. Dayne gives head like a fucking pro, fuck, it’s like nothing Jaime has ever felt before.
Mr. Dayne nudges Jaime’s thighs apart and grips the spot between thigh and balls tight, using that to take Jaime further into his mouth. Jaime sways. He’s too shy to grab Mr. Dayne’s hair, so he skitters his fingers along the shower wall instead, and then grips the sides of his thighs. He’s forgotten about all those old muscle aches because he’s got new ones instead. There’s a familiar pressure in his balls, and he doesn’t know if he can last much longer.
“When I c—” Jaime’s embarrassed to say it in front of Mr. Dayne. “Is it okay if I—when I—”
Jaime’s cock slides wetly out of Mr. Dayne’s mouth. “Are you asking if you can come in my mouth?”
Jaime nods.
Mr. Dayne cups Jaime’s balls in his hand and gives them a little squeeze. Jaime shudders. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Jaime. It would be an honor to swallow your seed.”
Seed? Fucking English teachers , Jaime thinks, but then Mr. Dayne leans in and he’s suckling along the underside of Jaime’s dick. He’s almost kissing it, and he’s got a hand still stroking Jaime’s balls. Jaime begins to hump at his face the way he’s never humped anything other than Cersei and his mattress. Nothing in his life ever seems to happen the way it’s supposed to.
“Easy, easy,” Mr. Dayne says. “Someone’s getting a little excited, hmmm?” He pats Jaime on the ass; Jaime’s body is still wet and somehow this makes the patting sound seem louder. “You’re going to have to work on your self-control, Lannister. Jaime.” He sucks Jaime’s cock back into his mouth and runs the tip of his thumb gently along Jaime’s ass crack; that’s all it takes for Jaime to moan too loud and squirt hard and hot into Mr. Dayne’s mouth, digging his nails into his thighs until a hand slides into his own and squeezes.
Jaime sinks into a squat against the wall of the shower, every muscle in his body shaking. He watches Mr. Dayne give him a slow, crooked smile and swallow, then run his hands through Jaime’s curls. They’re totally wet and tangled but Mr. Dayne doesn’t care, apparently. Anyway, the legs of his nice grey pants are soaked from the knee down, and there are splotches of water all over his thighs and his pale blue tshirt. His nipples are hard, Jaime notices, and from a look at his crotch there’s no denying he’s hard down there as well. Jaime wants to use every last bit of energy he has that hasn’t been sucked out of him by Mr. Dayne to reach out and grab Mr. Dayne’s cock.
“I suppose it’s going to be a bit hard for you to concentrate in class from here on out,” Mr. Dayne says.
“Honestly, it was always pretty hard to concentrate with you as my teacher,” Jaime says, blushing.
“I figured.”
“Don’t worry. This won’t be disruptive to my learning process or anything.” Jaime reaches out, feeling bold, and puts his hand on Mr. Dayne’s belt buckle. Mr. Dayne nods slightly, and Taco Bell with Addam is the farthest thing from Jaime’s mind. “It might actually help me, you know, all this…one on one attention.”
And Mr. Dayne lazily undoes his zipper as Jaime gets onto his knees, not even caring that they’re bare and the tiles are hard and getting cold.