Ryan thinks maybe he shouldn’t have become a teacher, not for seniors anyway.
His telepathy never really bothered him before; wouldn’t bother him if he had a class full of tiny children with ideas and thoughts and colours bursting through their minds, but he doesn’t and so it does bother him.
It bothers him a lot because his student’s minds are filthy, full of sexual things they’ve never done and things they have and fantasies and really the only person who hasn’t thought about sleeping with one of their classmates while in his class is Ray Narvaez Jr, the ridiculously white Puerto Rican kid who makes teaching tolerable. He’s funny and witty and smart and sarcastic and is always ready with an eyeroll or a snarky comment that Ryan shouldn’t find funny but does.
The problem is, that while Ray doesn’t think about sleeping with his classmates, he does think about sleeping with Ryan.
Many, many times and in various positions, some of which Ryan doesn’t think are actually possible.
Ryan can’t look at his students regularly, too disturbed by their minds, but sometimes he can’t bring himself to look away from Ray.
Like now; Jesus.
The moment he’d entered the classroom, he’d been assaulted with images of Ray naked and moaning and on his back and god, Ryan could practically feel hot tightness around his cock. He fears he wasn’t very subtle at all with his abrupt pause in the doorway, leaning against the frame while he tried to force air into his lungs.
His students are still looking at him oddly, like they’re convinced he’ll pass out at any second. It’s a nice break from the sex images to be sure, but he isn’t sure detailed images of him gasping for breath on the floor are better. Especially when half his students are thinking about how they’d have free time if he did die.
The only person not thinking about him dying is Ray, who's looking innocently at the front of the classroom, as if he’s listening but Ryan can see him daydreaming about his fingers clenched and tangled in sheets and Ryan licking along his naked chest.
He’s stuttered over more words today than he’s ever done before, kind of a mess and Ray’s mind really just isn’t stopping.
“You guys were meant to… uh… read Othello over the Summer-” he stops to take in long deep breaths when a very appealing image of Ray propped up on his knees and elbows, naked passes through with all the other thoughts from his students - most of which are, ‘fuck! He can’t tell that i forgot right?’
“and i trust that you did that,” he continues, thankful for his desk having backing, otherwise the students would definitely be able to see his erection.
Abruptly, he’s less thankful for the backing as Ray appears in his mind, slinking beneath the desk and opening his pants with sure hands and nimble fingers. He looks wanting and Ryan can tell Ray’s aching for it because he can hear just how much he wants it. It’s spinning like a record in his head, ‘i want to, i want it in my mouth, want it so bad, want him to fuck my mouth, pull my hair, want to suck his cock,’ and each want is accompanied by a image of exactly that.
“Othello,” he tries, slightly strangled sounding, “is-”
He pauses, looks up into his students confused faces and Ray’s dazed eyes, open mouth - pink, inviting, irresistable...
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he declares suddenly, “read Othello, i know you didn’t over Summer.”
With that, he stands and with a well placed folder concealing his dick, leaves. He strides out the door, down the hall and keeps going until he simply can’t hear Ray’s thoughts anymore.
He sits there, on the cool hallway floor for a while - almost the entire lesson - before heading over to the maths department, thunking his face into the door until it opens and Geoff regards him with annoyance at first but then worry.
“What’s wrong Ryan?” he asks, “aren’t you meant to be in class?”
Ryan groans, burying his face in Geoff’s shoulder while Geoff walks them out of the doorway and closes the door behind them to escape curious teenage eyes.
Already though, he can see images of him and Geoff fucking flowing through their dirty sick minds and grimaces. Geoff does the same, looking distant.
“Kids these days,” he sighs and Ryan can feel him strategically building up barriers in his mind so the thoughts can’t come in.
“You gotta teach me how to do that,” Ryan grumbles and Geoff chuckles sadly.
“You know i can’t. We tried, remember? You’re telepathy is too strong.”
“I need to find a new job,” Ryan tells him, finally leaning away from Geoff and fixing him with pleading, tired eyes.
Ryan projects some of Ray’s thoughts at Geoff, now burned into forever memories in his mind, and projects a little too hard.
Geoff winces, then grimaces then, “i’m gonna have a headache all day now… You’re fantasizing about your student?”
“No, he’s fantasizing about me. All the time. In detail!”
“Yes,” Geoff agrees mildly, “i saw the detail. Thanks for that by the way.”
“What do i do?” Ryan moans, feeling petulant.
“You go back to class and do your job! Ignore it, we all have to at some point.”
Ryan gives Geoff a critical once over, taking in dark undereye bags and messy hair; his shirt’s even buttoned up wrong.
“Who fantasises about you?” he asks incredulously and Geoff scowls at him.
“If you must know,” he growls, “Michael Jones does. All the time, constantly. And let me tell you, this kid is inventive.” Geoff seems oddly proud about it.
Ryan blinks, “yeah… i’m gonna go now and possibly throw up,” he snarks as he begins to back away. Geoff pulls the finger at him but he’s smiling as he ducks back into his classroom.
When he gets back to his own class, his students are no longer there and the next group of students is, including one Michael Jones. Ryan tries not to stare at the kid and feel out his brain but does anyway.
He has to admit; Geoff’s right. The kid is inventive.
The entire week is full of Ray’s dirty thoughts and Ryan can feel his stress and frustration building to new levels until it’s last lesson on Friday and he’s desperate for a weekend of bad tv and internet porn; anything to wind down.
Instead he gets a tornado of thoughts from Ray.
It starts with cute little open mouthed kisses in darkened classrooms, fumbling fingers tugging at clothes and progresses until it’s only halfway through the lesson and Ryan’s sweating like it’s the middle of Summer, fumbling through words and trying not to focus on the idea of naked Ray and naked him and naked them.
“So really - uh - while Othello is called Othello… uh… sorry what?.. yes right… while it is called Othello, really the story is more about sex- i mean Iago’s story,” he manages and almost all of his students stare at him oddly, almost all, aside from Ray who looks lost in thought, thought Ryan wishes he can’t see.
He laughs a little hysterically when a very vivid image of Ray going down on him, with those soft dark eyes watching him, enters his mind and gasps for air, “a theory about Iago… Is that - urm -”
He buries his face in his hands and breathes deeply, “what was i talking about?” he asks desperately.
“A theory about Iago sir?” some girl asks from the front row.
“Right yes! A theory about Iago is that he was - uh - gay for Othello and jealous of Desdemona for having what…”
A particularly graphic image of Ray opening himself up with fingers and slick enters Ryan’s mind, building with movements and whines and whimpers and little shuddering thrusts until Ryan finally snaps.
“For fucks sakes Ray! Get your mind out of the gutter!” he yells, scaring the entire classroom.
When he looks up, expecting Ray to look shocked, instead he finds the little shit smirking at him.
Ray flicks his tongue out, raspberry red from the skittles he sneaks during class, and wets his lips - locking seductive eyes with Ryan’s own wide ones.