He looked up at the taller figure looming over him, pressing his back into the cold tile wall of the bathroom. He could see his breath lingering in a fog in front of his face, mingling with the soft exhale of his chosen partner. The tile wall against his back was cold, but the heavy, sturdy body before him was radiating warmth. The captain of the football team smiled down at him, hands splayed either side of his head on the wall, trapping him there. Like he would put up much resistance. He’d invited this with subtle glances in the change room, secretive little smiles as he’d watched the footballer change. His advances had been returned a little forcefully, pinning him here once the rest of the students had left. Now was his chance. Surging up onto his toes, he’d pressed his lips hard against the other boys in a hurried, brash kiss. He’d hardly expected to be kissed back, feeling the full weight of that hard body pushing against him. Mouths crushing together in frenzied kisses, they’d let their hands roam over each other’s bodies. A rough hold had been on the front of his trousers, rubbing needily at his groin. He’d whispered a mewl against the other boy’s ear, thrusting his hips up against that touch. He wanted more, more! Any moment as he would wrap his legs about those hips, feeling them thrust and grind against him. That hard, erect cock would push into him, stretching and pounding at his tender insides. He’d cry his pleasure and muffle himself into the throat of his partner, clawing nail marks into his shoulder blades. It would be exactly like he dreamed.

Opening his eyes, the teenager was disappointed to find the blurry world around him to be his bedroom. Not the secretive bathroom of his future wet dream. Dejected, he reached out a hand and slapped the off button of his alarm, sneaking a hand under the covers. His body was more eager for the day than he was, swelling with blood and desire. A few sneaky touches and strokes were interrupted by a thunder on his bedroom door, barely having enough time to rip his hand away before his mother allowed herself in.

“Get up Max.” She snapped at her son, clicking her tongue disapprovingly upon seeing that he was still in bed.

“I am getting up.” He murmured softly, keeping his blankets pulled around his waist. Max couldn’t risk getting up and exposing a boner to his mother. Laying his school uniform on the end of his bed, his mother thankfully departed. A new school. There had been administrative problems with his old school, some person syphoning funds of something like that. Either way, students had been transferring out all semester, the classes getting smaller and more pointless as the year went on. Teachers had given up, scrambling to find new positions before they were left out in the cold. He’d been lucky to score a spot in their sister school, according to his father. He’d have been happy to take the next semester off, take up a part time job if he had to. School wasn’t his thing really. The only things he was good at was Art and English. Skills not very highly prized at his old school. Maybe things would be a little different at Ferowood. Confident that his morning eagerness had gone down, Max slowly slipped out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He’d have to get ready pretty fast if he wanted to make it on time.

Wiping away the steam from the mirror, Max pulled a small face at his own reflection. A new school. He didn’t look as though he had slept, wondering if spiking up his short blonde hair would improve his complexion. It didn’t, but he did feel a little more awake, sweeping a little bit of hair gel through his hair. There were little circles under his brown eyes. No surprise there. He’d spent the early hours of the morning reading, unable to put the book down. He’d been cheeky, book in one hand and the other hand tracing lazy patterns across his lower stomach, nudging a little further south with each page he’d absorbed. No wonder he had gone to sleep and woken up horny. That’s what he got from reading Merrick Camui. Darting from the bathroom back to his bedroom, Max made sure to hide the novel under his bed, and resign himself to donning another uniform.

New students had a certain look to them, Max decided as he wandered the school yard, following a few lagging paces behind his mother. Even with the uniform, he got curious looks being cast his way. Were they judging him? Did they think with his slightly tanned skin that he was good at sports, or maybe his clean and pressed appearance made them think of him as a nerd. He’d have to untuck his shirt from his trousers as soon as soon as he had left the principal’s office.

Coming in to a new school was a problem, the head of the school had murmured, a file open on his desk which charted all of his progress. Max sat in the corner of the room, not part of the conversation despite being the subject of it. He didn’t care. He hadn’t failed any classes at his old school. While he hadn’t been too enthused about maths and science, he’d performed to satisfactory standards. The principal had agreed that with some hard work, Max would easily fit in to the school curriculum. He’d been given his time table, and sent off to his first class.

Some teachers assistant had caught him wandering aimlessly through the school and pointed him in the right direction. It would have been nice if the principal had told him where to go, rather than letting him add to his already mounting lateness. The classroom was quiet when he knocked on the door, slowly twisting the handle and stepping in. The whole class turned away from their lesson, locking their curious eyes on him. Max swallowed.

“So as you can see, a similie is saying something is like something else; she was like a flower, the sunset was like a firestorm. A metaphor on the other hand is saying something is something else; He is a dog. Your mobile phone is a brick.” The teacher glanced over his shoulder at the front door. “Kid standing in the door is new. Can I help you?” Max blinked slowly, a little rosy blush on his cheeks at finding himself the centre of attention.

“Um yes. I’m being transferred in?” He held out the note he had been given, taking a few steps forward to meet the teacher in the middle of the room. The guy looked too young to be a teacher, smiling curiously at the blonde.

“Max Collins right?” He took the note, moving over to his desk, leaning over as he checked a class list. Max tried to avoid the glance at the guys arse. He hadn’t seen a teacher in jeans and converse shoes for a while. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Take a seat where you can find one. I’m Tobias by the way.” Max looked down at his timetable, pointing at the little table square indicating his English period.

“Mr.-”

“Tobias is fine.” He was interrupted, pointed to the rest of the classroom. There were only two desks available, one next to a dusty haired kid near the front, and one up the back next to the large red head. The guy at the back glowered at him, almost daring him to come sit by him. Quickly untucking his shirt while the teacher’s back was turned, Max decided to commandere the desk more towards the front, setting a pad of paper and a pen down. Tobias was soon wandering towards him, laying a few photocopied worksheets on his table, before squeezing back through the rowes of desks to the front of the classroom.

“Hey.” The blonde kid next to him smiled, offering a hand in greeting. “My name is Tim.” Max returned the smile, shaking his hand.

“I’m Max.”

“Which school you transfer in from?” Max glanced to the front, but Tobias didn’t seem interested in the exchange, writing a few more examples on the board in a flowing, cursive hand.

“Um. From Rosston High School, it’s just a little further up north.” Tim nodded, casting his eyes out the window. As if that would help him locate the school in his memory. Max didn’t expect him to know where the school was.

“You here for the rest of the year, or passing through?” Tim murmured, glancing forwards towards Tobias, then back at Max. His pen was in his hand, scribbling notes slowly.

“Until I finish year 12.” Max whispered back, leaning towards Tim to keep his voice low. Tobias could hear them, but he didn’t care. Tim was one of his best students and Max was new, they were allowed some leeway for the kid to get his bearings. To their credit, both students were taking down the notes as they should. Harley and his mates were cracking jokes and being smart arses, but Tobias couldn’t pinpoint what they were saying.

“So is this a good class or what?” Max leant towards Tim’s desk, whispering low. The other boy shrugged his shoulders.

“That depends, what you mean by good?”

“I mean like, fair teacher. Interesting topics and stuff. That sort of good.” Tim grinned, looking up to the board and narrowing his eyes, reading for a moment before scribbling the notes down.

“Oh yeah. Tobias is probably as good as they come. He’s a nice guy. He’ll like you better if you try in his class. Doesn’t care if you’re the best marks wise, as long as you try.” Tim grinned as if he knew from experience, tapping his pen on the page to try and get it working again. Max offered him another one, hoping to make at least one friend. Tim smiled graciously and resumed his scribbles. “He’s a fun guy. I have him as my homeroom teacher as well. So we’re like, buddies.”

“Buddies don’t talk that much Tim.” Tobias murmured softly with a small smile, gently reprimanding the boy. Tim chuckled as well and shook his head. Max returned his attention back to his own work, hurriedly resuming his notes, eyes flickering over the worksheets as well. It was pretty simple, analysing points of creative writing, poetry and prose. It wasn’t hard. “Quiet back there!” Tobias called, giving Harley a pointed look and putting a finger to his lips. The red head gave a short nod, but didn’t seem to pay much mind to the teacher.

Max glanced over his shoulder, gazing absently around the classroom. He’d have to start learning names. He was bad at names. He caught the eyes of the stocky red head in the back row and turned back, feeling a little embarrassed to have been caught staring. Tim glanced back as well, watching Harley bore a hole in the back of Max’s head with his eyes.

“That’s Harley.” He murmured softly, wondering why Max had been looking at him. New kid curiosity perhaps. “He’ll disrupt any classroom he’s in without fail. A lot of the teachers hate him, but he has a legion of dimwitted followers.” Tim rolled his eyes and started doodling in the margaines of his page.

“I take it you don’t like him.” Max chuckled softly, shuffling a few of his papers around. Tim shrugged his shoulders.

“Not someone I would hang out with really. You’re more my type of person.” Max silenced a laugh by chewing on his tongue, realising how corny that was. Tim nodded his head, resigning himself to future mockery. “Hey, you wouldn’t play guitar would you?” Tim nodded towards Max’s splayed hands, having noticed his slightly caloused fingertips. Max shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nah man sorry. I’m a bit shit at music actually.” He’d had so many people asking him that question, he’d actually tried taking up an instrument. But he’d never got anywhere with it. He’d much rather sit down and draw.

“That’s cool.” Tim shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “I’m in a band you see. And we’re looking for another guitarist because our last one quit. You should come see us play. We’re always looking for more groupies.” Max raised an eyebrow at the boy he presumed was now his friend.

“You want me to be a groupie?” The new kid chuckled softly and shook his head. “If it gets me front row seats then count me in. If it means I have to sell my body to the band, then no way.” Tim grinned lopsidedly, understanding and enjoying the humour shared between them.

“Deal.”

“Tim. Max.” Tobias murmured softly, standing over the two desks with his hands held demurely behind his back. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look impressed. “I’m glad that the two of you are being friendly, but can we leave it until after class?” He turned his green eyes towards Max, offering him a roguish grin. “If you really need help understanding the work, then just give me a call. But the worksheets are pretty much self explanatory, and the rest is just the notes on the board.” Max nodded politely, offering a weak smile back. Busted for talking on the first class of the first day. It could have been worse, Tobias didn’t seem to care all that much.