Chapter 6:

Chris looked after the boy confused. The boy didn't seem to be able to make up his mind. First he his cutting him down in front of his class. The snide remarks about his accent and slight English grammar mistakes stung the worst. It was something Christopher was very insecure about. Now though, he comes in timid, scared, and acts completely afraid of him. Then? He hugs him.

Christopher shook his head and sat back down at his desk. He pulled the blinds of the window and looked out into the parking lot, and could see Evan gliding down the road on his skate board, skating from side to side. He felt immensely guilty as he remembered the jokes, taunts, he made about Evan's frequent cuts and bruising.

If he had known he was teasing the boy about marks he received from an abusive father, he would never have said anything. He would have tried to help Evan. It just seemed to go hand and hand. He talked about skate boarding, and so Christopher just assumed he had gotten his cuts from that. That was logical no?

It didn't stop his guilt though, and he sighed deeply when Evan skated out of sight. He drummed his pen on his desk thinking.

He surly hoped that Andrew wouldn't be a distraction to Evan. He felt he was just gaining some stable control over the boy and then the handsome new comer graced the scene. Andrew, was the type of boy Christopher usually enjoyed the most, but Evan had caught his eye the first day of school.

And what started out as a harmless fantasy grew into something more. He didn't know what to call it. It wasn't an obsession. He thought about Evan when not as work, yes, but not to an obsessive extreme. It couldn't be affection. He hardly knew him. What he did know he liked, however…and pitied.

Protectiveness.

That had to be it. He saw a handsome, young kid, being lead down the wrong road by friends he was frankly to good for. Then, the shining brilliance that laid under his unruly curly hair. That would have been enough, but at the thought of him being beaten. That changed things.

It not only made him feel more protective over him, made him want to teach Evan which road to take, to mentor him in a way, but it changed his intentions.

He wanted his typical relationship. Him the dominant partner, Evan the submissive. And that, for him, usually involved rough, hard, and sometimes violent sex and games. But he couldn't bring himself to hit Evan when he saw the painful bruised covering his creamy skin.

It made him feel angry, like he wanted to go to his house and kill the son of a bitch who could lay his hands on his own son. But, obviously, he couldn't be physically rough with him until they had both reached a comfortable understanding. And Evan would certainly need time and care if he were to ever be able to enjoy what Christopher had to offer.

As he thought of the black, blue and yellow marks on his future lovers back he grew angry. The boy was his, and some drunken criminal was hurting him. He grunted and spat out a curse in German before reaching for the phone.

_

_

Evan left the school feeling better. Eisenberg wouldn't call his father, and hadn't harmed him. Physically anyway. His comment about Evan being at his "disposal" had a painful sting in it. It hurt. Evan felt stupid, but hurt none the less.

He didn't want to be used. That was typical of humans. He wanted to feel like he meant something to Eisenberg. At least more than some whore kid who could be intimidated into sexual acts. He wanted to feel valued, something he never felt at home.

He had begun to feel it with Eisenberg. When he had worked on those papers, and tests, and gotten such praise. It hurt when he found out what his teachers intentions were. He felt that it was a lie, and Evan hadn't impressed his teacher.

He even tried to test him with his comment about "what sucking dick could do". When Eisenberg replied, or snapped, back that he had earned the grades, earned, his chest expanded.

So he hoped, that if he continued to raise his grades, maybe combed his hair once or twice a week, Eisenberg might notice and give him some more praise. Some appreciation you know.

Evan was starving for it.

_

He walked into the house, his skate bored under his arm and headed straight for his bedroom. He did it every night, to upset to watch his drunk mother passed out on the couch, or listen to his fathers insults about how big of a disappointment his only son was.

Tonight though he was stopped by a yell from the small T.V room.

"Come in here Evan!" He yelled and Evan walked over and stood in front of him. He looked at his father through the hair that hung in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Got a call from your teacher tonight." Evan's face went numb when he heard the words. The color was gone from his face, and his stomach twisted in knots. He could barley choke out a "oh".

"Some Eisenberger."

"Eisenberg." Evan said, unbelieving. Eisenberg called? After he said he wouldn't! How could he! He knew what would happen to him and he still called! He thought Eisenberg would at least keep from calling if-

"He told me how well you have been doing. That you have really turned yourself around." His father said. "Good." He said and looked back at the T.V. "Now get out of here."

Evan let out a deep breath and a relieved smile spread across his face. Oh thank the Lord up above!

He ran the stairs up to his room and plopped down on his bed. Eisenberg didn't know how much easier he just made his life for the time being. His father probably wouldn't talk to him for a good week or so now. The only reason he ever talked to him was to yell at him for failure. He wasn't so bold as to hope his father would take any interest in him other than his failures.

He smiled and scrubbed his hand over his face. He wished it wasn't Friday. He wanted to see his World Studies teacher again, to thank him. He felt a strong affection for Eisenberg well up inside him. It was the first time he ever WANTED to go to school. He laughed and his hand dropped to his crotch where his jeans were feeling awfully tight.

He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and wriggled them off and through them in the corner. He pulled out his hardening erection from his boxers and fisted his cock. He could only see Eisenberg's piercing clue eyes as he had leaned over him, asking him in such a comforting tone about his bruises. He saw Eisenberg pulling him down onto his lap and Eisenberg's strong hands holding Evan's face .

He felt his lips on his and his throbbing penis in his mouth. He felt, at times, oddly safe with Eisenberg. When he was being reassuring, and comforting, which he was pretty decent at, he felt like Eisenberg would keep him safe, he didn't need to worry about anything.

He came on his stomach and furrowed his brow. This was one of his favorite shirts and he just got his cum all over it. Not only that, he thought and his brow furrowed deeper, but he came after having fantasies of the teacher that had, for all intent and purposes, taken advantage of him.

He grumbled and stood up, whipping off his shirt and throwing it to the opposite corner of the room. He'd clean it tomorrow. He was to tired. He tucked himself back into his jeans and continued to lay sprawled out on his bed.

His fear had really taken a toll on him. It wasn't even five yet and he was dozing off to sleep. A lazy smile was on his face as he feel asleep, Christopher Eisenberg being the last thing on his mind.

He didn't wake up until noon the next day.

_

_

Eisenberg was watching the news, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was Saturday, and so he had a class to teach at the university that night. He rubbed his eyes, having not slept well last night. He couldn't get his student out of his head.

What was he going through right now? Were his parents drinking? Was his dad beating him? Was he ok? He certainly hoped so. He had deep circles around his eyes that he was disgusted with, and he hadn't even brushed his hair yet ad it was already 5:30 in the morning.

He put his coffee on the table and sighed. He had a lot to do today. Tests to grade, lessons to plan, not to mention the papers he had to grade for the college courses he taught. Reading all the papers was tiresome. He was occasionally entertained by the exceptionally well written essay, but most all seemed like the same paper over and over.

Around seven he grabbed his briefcase and opened it, pulled out stacks of paper, arranging them in four different piles. He had his college course work still in his bag. His first pile, the tests from his first period A.P European History class. He hoped to have these graded by eleven. Maybe ten if he was lucky.

Then he could move onto his fourth period regular European history term papers he had yet to grade, and lastly his seventh period World Cultures class. He was interested in looking over Evan's newest assignment.

He worked throughout most of the day. Drinking coffee, occasionally looked up from his work to listen to a news headline, and dropping his eyes back to his work. Finally, when he finished at 4:30, he went to take a hot shower.

He was almost late for his college class that night at seven. He took an unbelievably long shower, almost falling asleep inside, despite all the coffee he had drinking. Then he had misplaced his keys and that set him back a good fifteen minutes.

When he was stuck in traffic, a mile away from the university he cursed his luck. It took him a half an hour to go that mile.

__

Evan had had a better day. He went skating with friends and had completed a new trick he had been trying. His father hadn't talked to him, and he felt surprisingly good about doing some school work and completing it.

He spent most of Saturday night searching his dirty room for his Bio book. He actually managed to semi clean it in his search too. He kept thinking about Eisenberg. He really wished he didn't, but he couldn't help it. He was antsy most of the night, trying to read over his science notes, hoping that maybe he could pass with a 90. He had already taken the class two times, and so he knew most of it.

He fell asleep around twelve thirty, face down in his open bio book.

_

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Sunday, Christopher went to church with his younger sister. He got strange looks when people heard his first name and last name together. His first name, being Christopher, a strong Christian name, and his last Eisenberg, a popular Jewish name. He usually always had to explain that his grandparents were Jewish, but his father married a Christian when coming over to America, and he was raised a Christian.

He opened the door for his sister as they exited the church and shook hands warmly with the priest before making his way to his car.

"How's school?" His sister asked as he started the car.

"Fine. I have been buried in work lately." he said and she chuckled.

"Poor Chris. And how is that one student you talk about?" She asked. A warm smiled formed on his lips as he thought of Evan.

"He has been improving. I have been spending extra time with him after school and helping him with his grades. He is improving rapidly. A very bright boy."

"Really? Not the way you described him."

"I was mistaken. He is a troubled boy. I want to help him."

Madeline nodded slowly, looking at the smile on her baby brothers face with a small frown.

_

_

Evan sat down in English at the front of the room, and kept his sight down, hoping, maybe, Andrew would ignore him.

He didn't.

He sat down next to him with a bright smile. "Hey Evan. What's up?" He asked and rummaged through his bag.

"Not much." He said and turned to look at Andrew. God he was good looking. He was wearing a purple shirt, much like his tight pink one, and jeans.

"Want to go to a movie with me some time?" He asked and Jesse, a girl Evan had known since kindergarten swooned.

"Awwww! Evan's got a boy friend!" She joked and kissed Evan on the cheek. "Congratulations."

"Shut up Jesse." He laughed. She made kissy noises at him and opened her book to read. "I don't know Andrew. My grades are pretty low and I… well I…" don't want Eisenberg to be disappointed or angry with me. "I don't know if I will be able to go out much."

"Just one movie. On a Saturday or something. Please?" He asked, and flashed his white teeth at him. He bit his lower lip in thought. He wasn't getting a relationship out of Eisenberg. He couldn't. He was hi teacher! So why couldn't he go out with boy his own age?

"Yea." He said with a bright smile. "I'd like that."

"Great! Next Friday?" He asked, smiling.

"Yeah." He said and blushed deeply.

_

_

They entered Eisenberg's class together, and Evan caught the eye of Eisenberg, who looked sternly at him. Evan suddenly remembered the affection he had felt for him Friday night, and what he had done for him and felt guilty for agreeing to a date with Andrew. He felt like he was betraying him somehow, and he felt incredibly confused.

He sat down in the front, and when Andrew was going to sit down next to him he said that he thought Eisenberg would want him to sit in the back, and Andrew agreed, remembering his first class.

Evan looked over at Eisenberg, who met his eyes and smiled softly, giving him a nod of approval. Evan smiled back and pulled out his notebook. He was silent for most of the class, and actually answered one of Eisenberg's questions, which surprised him greatly.

When the bell finally rang Evan waited for everyone to leave and approached Eisenberg's desk. He looked up at Evan and raised both eyebrows.

"I have detention tonight right?" Evan asked, his tone hopeful. He wanted to know him how much he had been studying. Eisenberg paused and looked at the open door a moment.

"Yes." He stood and placed his palm against Evan's cheek, who turned a light shade of pink, and felt his penis stir. "Yes."

A/N: This chapter was written mainly to establish plot. I think I know where I am going now. So that's good : ).

Please review! The more reviews, the faster I write. It's like food. : )

Thanks for everyone who received my last chapter. You are the best!

Oh, and I have been re-reading prison bitch, and wished I had put more detail into it, so I am slowly rewriting it. The chapters have the same story, just written better, with more detail, and small changes I want to add. Lol. So, I will put that up for those who want to read it.