Fucking Neighbor's Son 04 (Patreon)

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Chapter 4: Grades

I didn't hear from him for a couple of days after that.

I told myself it was fine. Better, even. He got what he wanted, I got what I wanted, and now it was done. He had gotten me out of his system. It was a psychosexual event in my life that I won’t forget, but the dude was trouble. He was an experienced little fucktoy and I didn’t need to fall down into some sex-crazed bottomless hole of pleasure every time I came home to my building. Except that’s exactly what I wanted.

Then I saw him in the hallway with Dave.

Dave had apparently decided that ignoring me entirely was his new strategy, which I respected as a tactical pivot even if it was a little pathetic. He walked past me without a word. His stupid eyes remained forward, his jaw clenched. Maybe he was mad about something else today. Wouldn’t be surprised.

Josh was a step behind him, chewing gum, his eyes down. He glanced at me for half a second and then looked away. He looked solemn. Something was going on.

I watched the line of his cheekbones clench as he worked the gum in his mouth. I thought about the warmth of him. The specific interior velvet I had felt, which was something I had not been able to stop thinking about for two days no matter how hard I tried to think about anything else. I had been torn between wanting it to never happen again, and honoring my pledge that “you’re definitely coming over again.”

I did want more. I had to admit to myself that it wasn’t over yet. Not on my end. But none of it really mattered if he had truly gotten it out of his system. The amount of times I had thought about this kid in just a couple days was kind of insane. I went into my apartment and closed the door.

-[]-

Just after one in the morning, I was touching myself and debating jerking off or going to sleep, when my phone lit up.

Josh: Can I come down.

It wasn't a question the way he wrote it.

I got up and opened the door, and he was already descending the stairs. He came in and sat on my couch and put his elbows on his knees and looked at the floor. He still had the hoodie on. He smelled like he had just brushed his teeth, or else it was minty gum again.

"What's going on," I said.

“My grades suck,” he said.

“Ouch.”

“Dude it sucks. I don’t know what happened. I’m like, near the top of my class. I got mostly A’s until this year, I’ve taken almost every AP class we have. College apps are already in, and I guess I got senioritis. Like bad.”

I chuckled. “I went through kind of the same thing. Fuck ‘em. Colleges don’t care about the last semester after they’ve already accepted you. How bad can your grades be?”

He closed his eyes.

“Oh,” I said. 

He just nodded.

“Have you been like… distracted maybe?” I said as I poured myself some decaf coffee. 

I handed him a soda water in a can. He opened it and gulped a bunch down before he answered. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “Have you heard of grinder?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Gay shit.”

He released a long sigh. “Yup.”

His school counselor had pulled him in that week and told him that if his numbers didn't come up before graduation, there was a real possibility that whatever acceptances came in could be pulled before he ever set foot on a campus. Nothing had arrived yet.

"Which schools," I said.

He listed them. They were good schools. Ambitious for anyone.

"I need a tutor," he said. "My dad pays for one but the guy is useless and I hate him."

"I went to Penn," I said. "For neuroscience, before I went into health tech consulting."

He looked up at me for the first time since he sat down. Then one corner of his mouth moved. "Yeah, ok. So you’re smart."

"I'll help you."

"I know," he said. The smirk was still there but something else was underneath it. Relief, maybe. He was actually happy about it. He just wasn't going to say so.

We talked for another twenty minutes about what he was struggling with. He kind of knew everything that he described. He literally just couldn’t focus anymore. From the little I’ve known him, it was obvious that he was sex-crazed and needed some direction.

“You gotta get your mind off sex,” I finally said. “Or like, just do all your work, then give yourself a reward.”

“I know,” he said, “So I… have sort of an idea.”

I cut him off, the worker bee in me taking over. “Well, it’s only gonna get worse in actual college, dude. You know how much dick and ass you’re gonna find there? You might even experiment and try some pussy.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to hold back a smile. 

“No… I mean yeah, ok, but…” he said before I cut him off again.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “I’ll train you. I did it once. I was a horny dude as well, like we all are. I graduated just fine and now I’m killin’ it, AND getting laid regularly.”

“Ok, but…”

“Trust me, I’ll tutor you, you’’ll figure this shit out…”

He interrupted me by pulling the front of his pants down, and I went silent. He was wearing a weird metal thing on his dick, like it was clamping down on him, the shiny silver contrasting with his smooth, porcelain body.

“This was the idea I had,” he said, throwing a pair of small, brass keys onto my lap, connected by a little key ring.  “If you would let me finish.”

I picked my jaw up off the floor, playing with the tiny keys between my fingers, feeling the ridges of them. 

“I mean,” I said slowly, ”it sounds like you’re not gonna finish for a while… until we get your grades up.”