Disasterology 101 (8 page)

“Excellent choice.”

Cedric knew he didn’t imagine the satisfaction in Dr. Black’s voice.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Metropolitan Community College wasn’t too big—or all that impressive—from what Kevin could see. Housed in a four story building not too far from Greenbriar’s headquarters in midtown Manhattan, it was in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint, and new windows at the very least.

The college offered certifications and degrees associated with the business of construction, remodeling and interior design. The irony didn’t escape him. Having opted to register online without seeing the place first, he’d been prepared for a few surprises, but a rundown façade wasn’t one of them.

Not wanting to be late on his first day, Kevin bypassed the elevators and took the stairs to a classroom located on the third floor. It was already half packed. After writing his name on the attendance list taped to the door and nodding at a couple of girls that were staring at him, he took one of the few seats left in the back and did his best to ignore them by looking around the room.

The inside of the building wasn’t in much better shape than the outside. His trained eye automatically spotted the cracks in the walls and the stains from what seemed to be an air conditioning leak. The computer and projector on top of the teacher’s desk were new enough, but the furniture looked as if it’d been on site since the college first opened its doors in 1974.

Had Kevin not researched it, he’d have probably turned around upon first sight of the place, wondering how they’d managed to stay in business for so long. But he’d done his homework. MCC might not look like much, but its academic excellence wasn’t easily surpassed. And it was cheap. He’d happily overlook falling plaster, ripped linoleum and even crumbling walls if it got him the certification Greenbriar International Builders required its foremen to have.

Kevin picked a few specks of lint from his shirt. Stretching out his legs, he crossed them at the ankles. He pulled out the program he’d gotten in the mail from his backpack and read it again. Then he uncrossed his legs, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his desk.

The two girls sitting on the other side of the room were now openly gawking at him. One of them went so far as to wink at him. He’d be surprised if either one was over nineteen.

Kevin looked away, trying not to flinch under their gaze or show how uncomfortable their open interest was making him. He wasn’t the best-looking man out there, but he wasn’t a troll either. He’d had a fair share of women make passes at him, but he hadn’t been attending school with any of them. Not to mention, he wasn’t in denial anymore. He might still be in the closet, but he wasn’t getting involved with women ever again. The come-hither eyes were totally wasted on him.

He brushed the dust off his jeans as best as he could. He’d wanted to at least change his clothes before leaving for school, but work ran late. As a result, his appearance was a mess. Not only did he seem to be one of the oldest students in the class, but he was the dirtiest as well.

A guy sitting two rows to the left was eyeing him. It didn’t look like he was interested, but Kevin shifted sideways and buried his nose in his textbook. Just in case.

Memories of what happened the one time he’d hooked up with a man rushed through his mind. It happened at the most random moments, but a day wouldn’t go by without Kevin thinking about Pretty Thug.

Almost two months after their encounter, Kevin was still trying to figure out the best way to be who he really was without hurting anyone.

His life got pretty busy after his lunch date with Vaughn. With school out for the summer and plenty of kids’ activities, Kevin made sure to spend extra time with his children. Baseball and soccer games and a few trips to museums and water parks kept him busy, but he made good use of his phone’s internet while he was on the train.

He read coming out stories. He also read about family dynamics regarding homosexuality. He’d researched counseling for families and PFLAG, all while exploring a side of himself he’d managed to keep hidden, only God knew how for so long.

He continued to learn his way around the dating pool. He went to gay chat rooms and talked to other guys. He’d even been out to Manhattan with Vaughn and some of his friends a few times. They were all right.

Vaughn said during a recent phone conversation Kevin needed to loosen up and do something spontaneous. That not every date had to be about finding someone compatible, and he’d been particularly adamant about the importance of “keeping current with one’s body,” which was fancy coding for: “if you don’t get laid soon you’re going to bust a nut.” Kevin agreed, but nobody had been able to get his engine revving the way Pretty Thug did.

The last two “perfect matches” from getyourflameon.com weren’t too bad. Their kisses hadn’t moved the earth, and as it turned out neither guy was really for him, but Kevin had a great time with both of them, nevertheless. To sit down and have a few drinks with another man he had asked out on a date was the most freeing, exhilarating experience of his life thus far.

He also jacked off to his heart’s content… and he always finished thinking about
him
. Kevin
knew
this needed to stop, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the guy from the sex shop out of his head. He was seriously considering finding another pierced guy. Lame, but a substitute might do.

Whispers and some giggles snapped him out of his thoughts, and Kevin looked up from his textbook in time to see a tall, lean man with amazing cornrows set a few books on the desk at the front of the classroom. The books were aligned perfectly close to the edge. The guy was wearing black, fingerless leather gloves.

Kevin’s heart dropped to the floor.

Fuck
.

His clothes were more informal this time around. Black cargo pants, a gray long sleeve shirt and black sneakers, but he somehow managed to look all proper and shit. How was that even possible when sporting such a hairstyle anyway?

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said with that strong, accented voice Kevin hadn’t been able to forget. “Welcome to Metropolitan Community College. My name is Cedric Haughton-Disley and I’ll be teaching you how to read blueprints. Classroom rules are simple.”

Pretty Thug sat on the corner of the desk and realigned his books. Then he let his gaze wander around the packed room, and Kevin slid down in his chair as much as he could.

“No cell phones allowed. No snacks, and for the love of God, no chewing gum. I don’t want to see anything other than your textbook and a notebook on your desk. Purses, backpacks, messenger bags and any similar items are to be placed on the floor, always on the left side of your seat.”

He realigned the books
again
and took the list that had been previously taped to the door from his desk. His expression didn’t change. He looked a little pale, and going by his accent the dude was most likely from England. Jesus. Did the guy never go out or was Glowy Ghostly in his DNA? There were no signs of recognition to speak of, which meant the source of Kevin’s biggest embarrassment to date had yet to see him. Kevin on the other hand, felt as if a thousand alarms had gone off in his head.

What the hell was Pretty Thug doing here? And he was the teacher? Seriously, what were the fucking odds?

“Tardiness will not be tolerated,” he continued to say in that deep, slightly snotty, sexy as hell voice of his, and damn if Kevin didn’t feel as if he was back in the seventh grade and totally hot for teacher. “More than three absences and you’re guaranteed a big fat zero. My office hours are Wednesdays from eight to nine-thirty p.m. If any of you need to talk to me about anything related to this class that’s when you should do it, but I strongly encourage all of you to email me first. Other than that, it should be an easy, painless ride. Let’s call the attendance so that we can begin, shall we? Mathew Benson… John Camacho… Stephanie Wilson… Tamara…”

Kevin glanced at the door and considered his chances of escaping the room without being noticed. Not likely. Not with that many rows of seats between him and the hallway.

“…Stuart Nelson…Juan Gonzalez…”

Pretty Thug made brief eye contact with each student after he’d read their name and they raised their hand. He never smiled, but he didn’t look upset. He hadn’t seen him yet. The moment he did he was going to kick Kevin out. How could he not? He’d almost lost his dick to Kevin’s teeth, after all.

Christ.

Cedric Haughton-Disley
.

There was something so familiar about his name….

It sounded aristocratic as hell. As if he could be related to the Queen or some shit like that. And even with that hair, he had no problem picturing him wearing a waistcoat, stockings and breeches. Kevin almost moaned. Cedric was tall enough; his shoulders broad enough to pull that silly fashion off. He had no doubt the British guy would look sexy as hell, too.

“…Grace Smith…Robert Caporali…”

Cedric kept playing with that blasted lip ring of his. A name… a tug of the lip ring with his pink, moist tongue… another name….

Meanwhile the entire class seemed to be in shock. Granted the guy looked way too young and
not
at all like a professor, but unless they’d dropped to their knees and sucked the guy’s cock at some seedy sex shop, they really had no reason to behave as if the entire world had stopped making sense.

“…Lester Bleich…Zachary Adler…Dae Soo Shen…”

Kevin tried to remember MCC’s policy. Could he get a full refund if he got kicked out of the class on the first day? It wouldn’t be voluntary, so he shouldn’t be held responsible or penalized.

Was there another class he could take instead of this? Kevin couldn’t risk not taking it. He had a plan, and it depended on him passing this class in two months.

What if Pretty Thug didn’t kick him out, though? Would Kevin be able to deal with it? Could he sit here and listen to the man he’d sexually molested teach him how to read blueprints twice a week?

A name…a tug of the lip ring with his pink, moist tongue…another name…

Memories of how that tongue felt inside his mouth were driving Kevin crazy.

And the gloves. They were so fucking hot.

He even liked the cornrows. They made Pretty Thug’s high cheekbones stand out. Was that his real hair or some of that synthetic stuff he’d heard about? Kevin hoped it was real… he’d love to see it out of the braids… he’d love to go down on Cedric while he had all that black hair spilling around him.

Kevin took a deep breath. As embarrassed as he still was over his own behavior, there was no denying how much he’d like to blow the sophisticated name out of that guy. Maybe he’d get it right this time around.

Cedric Haughton-Disley….

Shit!

Kevin straightened in his seat, sheer horror descending over him the moment Cedric’s last name finally clicked.

Jesusfuckingchrist!

He’d wished for a do over with this guy and here it was. Kevin had the opportunity to walk over to him and apologize, but under these circumstances it was impossible for him to grab it with both hands.

He had to get out of the classroom. Find out if he could get his money back. He needed it now that he wouldn’t be able to count on his income from the Greenbriar part-time job.

Shit…shit, shit, shit! This was a fucking disaster!

He couldn’t believe this. Bad luck didn’t even begin to—

“Kevin Morrison.”

This can’t be happening to me.

Kevin prayed for his face not to be as flushed as it felt. He glanced up. Pretty Thug’s eyes seized on him. He had the longest, thickest lashes Kevin had ever seen on a man.

He raised his hand. The guy wrote something down and called the next name on the list. He didn’t spare Kevin a second glance.

What. The. Fuck?

He’d spent days either agonizing over his behavior or jerking off to memories of their encounter and too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy didn’t even remember him?

Kevin was insulted.

They’d first seen each other at the coffee shop. There was plenty of light there. The guy had checked him out and
then
followed him inside the sex shop. He damn well knew what Kevin looked like. Not to mention, Kevin almost bit off his dick. Wasn’t
that
memorable?