I Never Break Promises

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah--me and everyone on the sports team are all really nice to my best friend Inge, and he only likes boys. I only like boys too, if you don't mind me telling you, but a lot of people don't seem to think that. I don't get why--it's obvious, isn't it?"

He smiled slightly.

"Hm, I don't think so." He replied, but he didn't say anything more on the matter.

"You sound like my parents," he chuckled weakly, scratching his head. God he hoped Mr. Kekoa was nothing like his parents. "But you believe me, right?"

"Yes, I believe you. It's peculiar, though..." He replied thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

Tristan glanced to the side, feeling relieved.

"...Actually, Teach, could we maybe go to your office first? I want to ask you something, man-to-man. I mean, I just met you, but no one's ever really believed me before, so..."

"My office?" He asked, confused. "Well, I suppose if you insist."

He shrugged. "That's fine." He replied, heading back towards the theater.

Tristan followed, smiling shyly.

"Thanks, Teach. You're really cool."

"Alright, then." He replied, walking into his office. "We're here. I know it's empty, because I haven't moved much stuff in, so don't mind the boxes."

Tristan closed the door behind them and turned the lock. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, but he continued anyway.

"...I...Mr. Kekoa, which do you like? Boys or girls?"

"...Tristan, you don't have to lock the door, no one is going to come in here." He replied, somewhat suspicious. "As for my preference, I really don't think we should be having this discussion, it's rather improper, you know..."

He cleared his throat, glancing at the door awkwardly.

"Teach, which do you like?" he asked again, swallowing nervously. His mouth was suddenly very dry. "Do you like girls, or...or are you like me? Do you like boys at all, Teach?

"Please tell me. I...it's important."

"Well...you can't tell anyone, alright?" He replied, swallowing. This was horrible; if Tristan told anyone, he'd undoubtedly be fired. "I...do prefer men. It's true, I have dated women, but...I like men."

His face turned a bright pink.

"...P-please, like me, then!" he said earnestly.

"...Tristan, I think you should think about what you're saying." He replied, adjusting his ponytail nervously. "...this sort of thing isn't...I can't. You know that."

Tristan tackled Mr. Kekoa into a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Please, Teach. I don't want to think about it at all...I just...I just..." He hid his face, looking upset.

"Inge says I never take what I want; that I should fix it, or I'll never be happy. Teach, I want you. I want you to want me, too..."

Mr. Kekoa leaned against his desk to avoid from falling over. Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around Tristan, though the younger boy was actually the taller one.

"That...you know that can't happen." He replied insistently. "Tristan...I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips against Mr. Kekoa's. They felt surprisingly cool to the touch; perhaps his face was that much hotter.

He was too surprised, at first, to push Tristan away. He knew he should, but his attempt was weak. It wasn't like he could pretend he didn't find him particularly attractive. No, he did. Even if he found the age difference completely disconcerting.

He pulled away awkwardly.

"...I...I have a boyfriend, but he won't mind. He always talks about how he wishes I'd do something like this." He smiled weakly. "I really like you, so...is it okay?"

He sank to his knees and began to unbuckle Mr. Kekoa's belt.

No, of course it wasn't okay.

Instead of saying it, however, he fell into an awkward silence, giving Tristan a disapproving look. This wasn't going to end well whether or not he told Tristan no, and because he knew he wanted it, he couldn't bring himself to say no, anyway.

He pulled down his pants, and he felt his pulse speed up.

"I...it won't be just like this, okay? You can tie me up and fuck me whenever you want...I just really want to try this." He kissed him over his underwear.

He wanted to question that statement, but instead he decided that talking would be a horrible idea, so instead he placed a hand over his mouth, preparing for the inevitable.

Tristan paused, looking confused.

"...You're covering your mouth, Teach?"

He frowned.

"...I don't want to be loud." He replied awkwardly. "...We are still inside of the school."

"Are you normally loud?" he asked adoringly.