Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance

IT WAS NO HARDSHIP at all to be at Coach’s office at seven, like I’d promised. After the blowup with my father, I’d packed a bag, climbed out the window, got an Uber, and snuck back onto the school campus. It wasn’t the first time I’d done this since the start of the school year. Most times I could handle my father, but since that one time he’d choked me so hard I’d blacked out, I stayed away from him when he was truly furious.

And he had been enraged that Coach had given me a ride. I’d barely made it to my bedroom and locked the door before he had pounded on it and hurled insults at me. Eventually, he’d stopped, but I hadn’t felt safe sleeping in the same house as him, so I’d climbed out through the window.

The other two times I’d snuck onto the school compound after hours, I’d slept on the bleachers of the football field. This time I knew for sure Coach’s office was open, so I went there instead. I locked the door behind me and cracked the window open. I wanted to turn the fan on, but I couldn’t risk someone hearing and coming to investigate.

I used the flashlight on my phone to do my homework, and when I was hungry, I munched on the snacks and water I’d bought on the way. I had to cancel my one-on-one cam show with a client, although I hated missing another night. Two movies later and I was tuckered out from the eventful day. I slipped out of the office to use the bathroom, then spread the fleece blanket I’d brought with me on the floor and settled down.

The ground was hard, but I was safe.

I slept fitfully, plagued by dreams of my father threatening to kill me if I didn’t go back to being straight. I’d given up explaining to him I’d always been gay.

A year ago, I had finally mustered up the courage to show the world the real me, but my coming out hadn’t gone down well. I’d been bullied for it, especially when I’d made a drastic change in my wardrobe. What should have been an educational experience had turned into a personal war zone. I’d had no other choice than to switch schools after flunking my final year. The ultimate decision had been Dad’s inability to pay the tuition he owed since he drank and gambled away his money.

In the early morning, the dreams changed into vivid memories, but they did very little to ease my mind. I kept reliving that moment when Coach Cooper entered the office and ripped his shirt off. A man that many years older than me didn’t have the right to look that hot. He was huge and packed tight with muscles.

The images played like a movie in my head. Frustrated, I rolled over onto my back, spat in my hand, fisted my cock, and jerked off while shoving a finger into my ass.

Did I imagine it was his finger inside me? Yes, yes, I did. Did I imagine his mouth was on my cock instead of my hand? I couldn’t stop thinking about it once the thought surfaced. And when I pictured his cock slipping inside me, I blew my load, my stomach clenching and my gasping breaths filling the room.

I fell into an exhausted sleep after. When my alarm sounded, I wasn’t nearly rested enough. I trudged to the locker rooms to take a shower and clean up.

The only things I’d shoved into my bag that wouldn’t make it look like I’d slept on the streets were a pair of distressed skinny jeans and a wrinkle-free top. Since I started this school, I hadn’t worn clothes this basic, but the outfit was cute, if understated.

I applied light makeup that didn’t disguise the bruise on my cheekbone well enough, but it couldn’t be helped. On the way to my locker to stash my blanket, I almost ran into a custodian. I grabbed some snacks from one of the vending machines and returned to Coach’s office to work.

With my earphones popped in, I mouthed the lyrics to the songs from my happy playlist. I needed a pick-me-up to get through the day, and the right music usually cheered me up.

Half an hour later, the songs were working. I shook my hips while I was organizing the file cabinet. I spun around, then stumbled to a halt at the sight of Coach Cooper. He was chuckling, but when our eyes met, he turned serious. In fact, he looked upset. Had I left something lying around so he would know I’d slept here?

“Coach, I—”

“Jesus, Emery, your face.”

Was that why he was upset?

“Well, sheesh,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I didn’t think I was that ugly.”

“You’re not. You’re pr—” He widened his eyes, coughed into his fist, and turned away. “What I meant is that you should have someone look at that bruise.”

I shrugged and returned to sorting through the file cabinet. “I’ll look worse for a while, but it’ll get better within a week.”

“You’re an expert on bruises, Emery?”

I snorted. “With my dad, yeah.”

He fell silent, and I glanced over my shoulder. He was watching me intently. I ducked my head, my face burning, and shuffled my feet.

Why did he look at me that way, like he pitied me? Of all the people in the world, he was the last one I wished had witnessed the fight between my father and me yesterday.

“I didn’t expect you to get here this early.” I put a file between the others.

“It’s seven thirty. I like to have half an hour to myself before classes begin.”

“Oh. Am I in your way?”

“No, you’re good. You may continue.” He walked behind his desk and sat, placing his bag on the desk. He took out his laptop, powered it up, and focused on the screen. For a few minutes, we worked quietly. Every time I looked at him, he had a frown on his face.

His phone rang, and I tried not to eavesdrop, but the softer tone of his voice was enough for me to guess his wife was on the other end. Oh god, I’d masturbated to thoughts of a married man this morning. It wasn’t as if all my clients were single. That was different, though. I couldn’t control what anyone did behind a screen.

“Again, Ter?” he asked. “That’s the third time this month you’ve had an out-of-state conference. Why didn’t you give me more notice?” He drummed his fingers on his desk. “You’re going to do what you want to do anyway, regardless of what I think. Talking about it when you get back will change nothing. Yeah, text me when you land. I love you too.”

I bit my bottom lip as I double-checked every file to ensure they were in the right order. Satisfied, I closed the drawer and pulled out the middle one. This was a mess, no semblance of order at all. I rifled through the contents to determine how best to organize the drawer and what to throw out.

I squeaked. Porn magazines were stacked at the bottom of the drawer. I dropped everything in my hands on the floor. I wasn’t so much shocked by the magazines. I didn’t judge people for their choice of reading material. What stunned me was where they were—in Coach Cooper’s office. Why not keep them at home?

Wasn’t he the good man I thought he was?

“What’s wrong?” Coach asked. “You didn’t find a dead mouse or anything, did you? I wouldn’t be surprised with the way I kept this place.”

“No, no. I just remembered something.” I fell to my knees and picked up the contents from the floor. His chair creaked, and shoes appeared in my line of sight. I didn’t want him to know I’d seen the porn magazines.

I vaulted to my feet.

“Watch out for the—”

My head slammed into the open drawer.

“Ow.” The papers slipped out of my hands. I’d caught myself good. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as I sat hard on the floor and rubbed the top of my head.

“Jesus, are you accident prone too?”

Coach dropped to one knee and shoved the drawer closed. His hands were in my hair, fingers gingerly sifting through the strands. His earthy cologne and aftershave filled my nostrils and distracted me from the pain. He was so close.

“You’re not bleeding. Although you might get a bump.” He sounded relieved. He tipped my chin up while his other hand remained in my hair. Didn’t he realize he was still caressing my hair? “First your face and now this. Be more careful, yes?”

His hand slipped from my chin to my cheekbone where I’d applied the most makeup to hide the bruise. His thumb pressed gently against the wound. Pain flared up, and I gasped.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not too much.” My heart was racing in my chest. “Only when you touch it.”

He jerked his hand away, but I caught it and returned it to my face. “I didn’t say you should stop. It feels… nice.”

“Emery, I—this is—”

“I know.” My throat was dry as I scooted closer to him. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I couldn’t stop myself. “But you don’t know what it’s like. For your own father to treat you like shit, and then to meet a stranger who shows you the most kindness you’ve had in a fucking long time. I just don’t care anymore. I badly need a hug, Coach. Is it so wrong to want one?”

Tears sprang into my eyes, and a sob choked out of me. What the hell? I didn’t give a damn anymore. I tilted forward, not caring that I was falling over. His arms came around me, and he held me to him, supporting my weight and preventing us from tumbling over to the floor.

And I was so fucking grateful he’d caught me instead of letting me fall.

I tucked my face into his shirt and clamped my eyes shut against the tears as warmth flowed through me. He folded me into his chest, holding me to him.

He was so solid and dependable.

“Emery,” he whispered my name. “I have to let you go.”

“Just a bit longer, please.” I tightened my hold on him. “You said if I needed anything, I should call you. Well, I need this hug more than you could ever know.”

“I could get in trouble for this.” But he didn’t let me go.

“For a hug?”

“For having a student sitting on my lap with my arms around him. It’s inappropriate.”

“I understand. I don’t want you to, but if it’s for the best, you can let me go.”

I waited for his arms to slacken, but they tightened around me. The relief that coursed through me was unmatched. I threw my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck. His heart thumped heavily inside his chest, and I felt for him, for the awkward position I’d put him in. But I was a little selfish too because I hadn’t felt so good in someone’s embrace for a long time.

Sex never felt like this.

Several minutes passed, silence stretching between us. I didn’t want to move, but my arms were cramping. With a sigh, I dropped them. He released me, and I shuffled back off his lap and sat on the floor. He looked conflicted and confused, unable to meet my gaze.

“You did nothing wrong,” I said.

“Didn’t I?” His voice was hoarse. He climbed to his feet and offered me a hand. I took it and got to mine.

“You didn’t. It’s not like we had sex. It was just a hug.”

He let go of my hand and stalked back to his desk. “That’s never going to happen.”

“I know.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “You’re my best friend’s father. And married.”

“And you’re a student.”

I smiled. “Does that mean you would if none of that existed?”

He raised his head and finally met my gaze. “What are you doing, Emery?”

Oh god, what had I said? I wrapped my arms around myself, ashamed for being inappropriate with him. “Sorry. It’s just…” I shook my head. There was no way to make him understand. I had dealt with shitty people for most of my life, and it was difficult to stay away from a man as good as him.

I wanted him for myself.

But I would never have him for the reasons he mentioned. They were good reasons too.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should go get settled for your first class.”

“Okay.” He didn’t want me around anymore. Damn him. I grabbed my bag from the chair and stalked to the door.

“Emery?”

I didn’t turn around. “Yes?”

“You can finish what you started in your free period and whenever else you’re available except for lunch.” He rummaged through the bottom drawer of his desk. “But I can’t keep leaving the office door open. I have a spare key around here somewhere.”

Now I faced him and smiled. “The other side. Bottom drawer. There’s a box where I placed all the small items.”

“Oh.” He opened the drawer and held up the square container. “Where did this come from?”

“I made it.”

He had lots of recyclable junk around the office, and I’d taken an old stationery box and rewrapped it with bright blue cartridge paper. With a marker, I’d drawn swirly patterns at the bottom of the box.

“You made this?” He studied the box from all sides.

I shrugged. “It’s easy. I made the organizer on your desk too.”

“You’re talented.” He cocked his head to the side. “You enjoy organizing this clutter, don’t you?”

I twirled a lock of hair around my index finger. “I do.”

“I can tell.” He took out a key and handed it to me. “Here you go. Technically, you’re not supposed to have this, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s our little secret.”

Why did taking the key seem so significant? Maybe because it meant he trusted me.

“You’re the only one allowed inside here, Emery. No one else. I have sensitive information about students here.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

“Thank you.” I took the key from him and clutched it in my palm. “Does this mean you don’t hate what I’ve done so far?”

“God, no. It looks great. I can see that my desk is made of wood again.”

I giggled. “It was a hot mess.”

“You’re the hot mess.”

Coach Cooper flirting and blushing had to be the sexiest thing ever. First the hug and now this? Today was the best day ever.

“All right,” he said sternly. “Get out of here and go to your class. And, Emery?”

“Sir?”

His nostrils flared. Or did I imagine it?

“Please stay out of trouble. Not everything is worth fighting for. Understand? Sometimes you just need to step back and stay alive to fight another day.”

I gave him a small nod. Maybe he was right. I had nothing to prove to anyone. If walking away was an option, I could try it and see how it went.