A/N: An oldie but a goodie. If you like this one, there is a review section for completed stories. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink :P -DL
Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 789
Witness Protection
Chapter 1
It was two o’clock, and Mr. Braeman’s pre-school class was marching down the hallway in a near perfect line. The little faces were determined, and chubby arms swung at their sides as the young students went along to the cafeteria for their snack. The teacher had told them to act like soldiers marching along in a parade. If they could act the part well enough, they would all get a treat later in the afternoon before they went home on the bus. The little boys and girls were eager to win the treat, and they enjoyed pretending they were soldiers. So they marched along in near perfect time, not making much noise or disrupting the other classrooms as they passed by.
Mr. Braeman himself was marching alongside them, pretending he was their commanding officer. They got a kick out of the fact that their teacher was playing ‘pretend’ too, and had giggled helplessly the first time that he’d demonstrated what he wanted them to do. He swung his arm silently as the class approached a turn they had to make, and the class swung smartly to the left and continued on their way without missing a beat. Mr. Braeman grinned and gave them a 'thumbs up' gesture to show that he was pleased by their performance.
The school principal, Mr. Fletcher, paused outside his office when he saw Mr. Braeman’s class go by. He marveled once again at the way the teacher had gotten his students to move along quietly and all together. No running or screaming in the halls from his pre-schoolers. And no capitol punishment had been threatened, either, to make them behave so well. The teacher was simply good at connecting with the kids, at knowing what to do to get them to behave as he expected them to. Principal Fletcher was pleased that he’d hired Jack Braeman, despite the fact that he was aware that the teacher was gay. Mr. Braeman never brought his personal life to work, and as far as he was concerned that was enough. Especially for such a gifted teacher.
The class swung into the cafeteria, disappearing from sight. The principal smiled and went on his way, for he was always busy with the many duties heaped on a school administrator. Inside the cafeteria, the boys and girls of Mr. Braeman’s pre-school class lined up to get cartons of milk and graham crackers for their afternoon snack from the lunch ladies. They carried these articles over to the tables and found places to sit near each other. Mr. Braeman also got a snack and sat down, which always amused the children. Watching an adult eat graham crackers and drink milk was pretty funny.
“Hey, Mr. Braeman?” lisped one of the tykes, a pretty girl with fat brown pigtails.
“What is it, Suzie?” the teacher asked her, looking down the table to where she was sitting.
“Can we finger paint when we go back to the room? I wanna show you the trees I can make,” she said eagerly.
He smiled. “I think we could do that, if that’s all right with everybody else,” he commented, looking around. “A show of hands? Who wants to finger paint?”
At least a dozen hands shot up into the air. “Well,” the teacher remarked. “It doesn’t look like everybody wants to. Are there any other suggestions about what we could do in free time when we go back to the classroom?”
“I wanna do music time!” yelled a boy with a mop of blonde hair.
Mr. Braeman made shushing noises at him. “A good suggestion, Bradley, but one you don’t have to make at the top of your lungs. Indoor voices, remember?”
The boy put a finger to his lips and looked contrite. “Sorry,” he mumbled around the finger.
“That’s all right. Any other ideas?” the teacher looked around at his students.
“Can we cut out paper aminals?” chirped another girl hopefully.
“That’s another idea. So – which will it be? Finger painting? Music? Or paper animals? I’ll make each suggestion, and whichever you want to do raise your hand. The most votes wins. Okay?”
He waited until everybody nodded, showing that they understood. “All right. Finger painting?” hands shot up again, but less this time.
“Music?” less hands; very few of the students was as enthusiastic as Bradley about music. The blonde boy scowled but accepted this.
“Paper animals?” this got more votes; it was going to be a close one. But… “It looks like paper animals wins. Sorry Suzie. Tell you what, we’ll do finger painting tomorrow. Promise.” Mr. Braeman told his student, who perked up at the thought that she’d still be able to show him her tree painting skills tomorrow. “Kay!” she lisped.
The class finished their snacks and frog marched back to their classroom, where they first got the treat they’d been promised for being good soldiers. After that, they enthusiastically used their blunt safety scissors to cut out some petty wild looking animals, supervised closely by Mr. Braeman. He hung up the finished products on the walls and wrote the students’ names on them so that the parents could see their children’s good work when they came for the next parent/teacher conference. After that they cleaned up the scraps and tidied the room, then it was time to go home. Mr. Braeman marched them out to the buses or their parents’ cars and waved each one off with a smile and an injunction that he’d see them tomorrow at noon, since he taught both a morning and afternoon pre-school class.
The teacher returned to his classroom to do some prep work for tomorrow, although he had far less to do than most of the teachers in the school since his little charges could barely even read yet. After everything was ready to go, he finally departed for the day. His first stop was at a restaurant to grab some food, then he headed off to the gym. He didn’t work out obsessively, he just liked to keep himself in shape. It was easier for him to keep up with his energetic little charges if he was in better shape. Not to mention the fact that the gym was full of hot guys in skimpy clothing working out, which was an added bonus for him.
He stripped off his ‘teacher uniform’ in the locker room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to work out in. His body wasn’t half bad, if he did say so himself – flat abs, a little bit of definition in his chest muscles, a nice tight ass…which, unfortunately, hadn’t seen much use lately. At all. He sighed as he draped a towel over his neck and went out into the gym to begin his work out. His last boyfriend hadn’t been a winner, and since they’d broken up Jack Braeman had found himself shit out of luck in his quest to find somebody else to replace the deadbeat. Maybe he was too picky – but he liked a certain type of guy, and sadly he hadn’t seen anyone lately who fit the bill. What was wrong with having standards, anyway?
Everything, apparently. He lay down on a bench after adjusting the weights to what he liked and started pumping iron morosely. He was thoroughly enjoying his job, he had a nice little house that he’d bought for peanuts(the housing market being what it was), and he had plenty of friends and a whole swarm of cats at home. But no love in his life. He should be happy with what he had, but how could he? Man, he needed to get laid. Bad. Before he started to eye Principal Fletcher(middle aged, happily married, and balding) or one of the other male teachers at the school. That would be bad, since as far as he knew he was the only gay person working there. And straight men never appreciated being checked out, which seemed kind of silly to him. They should just take it as a compliment when a fairly attractive gay man thought they were hot.
He grunted as he lifted and lowered the weights once more. His blue eyes roved over the gym, taking in all of the hot guys pumping iron or working out on the machines. Damn, what a smorgasbord! There was one he’d love to spot for. Big, muscular, with a tatt gracing his left shoulder. Unfortunately for him, said tatt was of a buxom blonde naked female. Jack grimaced as he looked away. Geez, all the good ones were straight. Or taken, or both. As it was, it looked like he was in for another evening of hanging out with his cats and watering his plants. For a gay man he was sure surrounded by pussy, he thought with a shake of his head as he sat up at last. He mopped at his face and hair with the towel.
With a weary sigh, he got to his feet and wandered off to take a shower. He decided not to do any more tonight. He’d just get some take-out and head home. Maybe he’d be able to find something good to watch on t.v. Probably not though. Television was a vast wasteland these days. He checked out a few more guys in the locker room, but saw only one or two real potentials. The first one was wearing a wedding ring, however, and the second was loudly talking about his car to another man. Jack grimaced as he went into the shower. He hated braggarts. In his opinion, they were simply overcompensating with all of their expensive stuff for something that they didn’t have.
He soaped himself up, idly eyeing the naked men coming and going from the shower. Suddenly his brain and parts lower stood to attention, all of them concentrating on the man who’d just walked into the shower. Damn! The teacher tried not to drool, but it was a losing battle. This guy was just so gorgeous! Buff, bronzed from being outdoors(not a tan in a can), wide shoulders with a face that was a bit craggy but ruggedly handsome. Long hair fell past those broad shoulders, turning darker as the water hit it. A tatt of a serpent coiled over one shoulder and down his arm. A nipple ring flashed in the light as he turned to reach for the soap with one big hand. Dark hair fell in a trail from broad male nipples to his groin. And of course the teacher checked out that area, too, and boy was he not disappointed!
‘I think I’m in love’ he thought dazedly. ‘Or in lust at least’. He just stood there, water running down his body, and gaped at the man. He didn’t have enough motor skills left to look away, which was dangerous. If this guy noticed him staring, and decided he didn’t like being ogled by another man…Jack could be in real trouble. He should move, he knew it, but his brain just wasn’t sending out the proper signals…
The man turned to rinse the last of the soap off of his magnificent body, and stared right at Jack. The teacher winced, waiting for the blow to fall. Waiting for rage to fill the ruggedly handsome face, for the dark grey eyes to narrow in sudden anger, for a snarl to move over a well cut mouth…but instead, to his shock, the man returned the look with interest. Then he smiled, lazily, making Jack wonder distantly if his body was going to explode. Or his head, or both. Then the gorgeous creature actually WINKED at him! With a last amused, appreciative glance, the man strode out of the shower and was gone.
The teacher just stood there for a minute, trying to get his brain to restart. Then he darted out of the shower, intent on finding that hunk and flirting outrageously with him. Or inviting the complete stranger back to his house for a night of wild sex. He didn’t care that he didn’t know this person, that the guy might be a serial killer or something. Or his cock didn’t care, which meant that his brain really didn’t either. When he arrived in the locker room, he didn’t see hide nor hair of the gorgeous stranger. He looked around wildly, but no dice. He could have cursed. Jack wanted to bang his head on his locker in frustration. Damn it! It SO wasn’t fair! He’d finally met someone REALLY interesting at the gym and the guy had up and vanished on him!
Finally he shuffled to his locker to towel off and get dressed, feeling dejected. Life just wasn’t fair. Still, if that guy had been here once he might come again. He’d be willing to come and hang out here every night if that were a possibility. Hell, he’d camp in front of the gym in a tent if he could just meet that guy again. Hell, he knew he was pathetic. But he just didn’t care. He HAD to see that guy again. No matter what it took.
As it turned out, it didn’t take much. Jack was just pulling into a convenience store to gas up his car and buy some pop corn and snacks for his night in front of the television when he saw a motorcycle roar up to the other pump. The leather clad driver stopped the bike and put down the kickstand as the teacher got out of his car. He was somewhat curious about who might be under the glossy black helmet, but only in an idle sort of way. But then hands came up to lift the helmet off, and his interest went from idle to pinpoint in about ten seconds flat.
He just stood there for a moment, staring in shock at the face of the man in the shower at his gym. The stranger hadn’t seen him yet, but he was sure to soon. The teacher wanted to hit his knees and thank God heartily, except for the fact that he wasn’t sure that that particular Deity liked his kind anyway. Maybe it was a power lower down that had directed that the two of them meet like this, but he didn’t care. He’d be joining Marilyn Manson as a Satanist if that were so.
He was just standing there, trying to think how to approach the other man, when the biker happened to look over at him. It took a moment, but recognition entered the dark grey eyes. A lazy smile played over his sensual mouth, and Jack felt rather faint. Or at least weak at the knees, anyway. The stranger began to skirt the gas pumps, and his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. ‘He’s coming over!’ he thought in an excited schoolgirl shriek. God, he was acting like a schoolgirl, and one with her first crush! He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, nor could he seem to pull himself together either.
The biker approached him. “Hey,” he rumbled in a deep voice that made the teacher’s very bones melt. “Weren’t we at the same gym earlier?”
Jack nodded, now unable to speak. His tongue was frozen to the roof of his mouth. “Huh. Small world, I guess,” the biker noted.
“Yeah,” the teacher managed to squeak. Inside his head, he was raging at himself: ‘Get it together, man! Say something flirtatious or urbane! Hell, say anything coherent! Come on!’
The other man was pulling off a pair of leather gloves. “Well, I guess I should introduce myself since this is our second meeting in less than an hour. I’m Devon Miles.”
Before he could introduce himself in turn, or even get his tongue to work, Jack’s world exploded. And it would never, ever be the same again. It started with a screech of tires off to the right, then yelling, and when they both turned to look to see what was going on, he was horrified to see a man in a dark suit emerge from a late model Mercedes and point a gun with a silencer on it at the head of another man just jumping out of a Porsche that had been cut off by the first car. Jack saw a hard, angry face twist into a snarl just as the man pulled the trigger – and blew the back of the other man’s head out right there on the street.
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Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 789
Witness Protection
Chapter 1
It was two o’clock, and Mr. Braeman’s pre-school class was marching down the hallway in a near perfect line. The little faces were determined, and chubby arms swung at their sides as the young students went along to the cafeteria for their snack. The teacher had told them to act like soldiers marching along in a parade. If they could act the part well enough, they would all get a treat later in the afternoon before they went home on the bus. The little boys and girls were eager to win the treat, and they enjoyed pretending they were soldiers. So they marched along in near perfect time, not making much noise or disrupting the other classrooms as they passed by.
Mr. Braeman himself was marching alongside them, pretending he was their commanding officer. They got a kick out of the fact that their teacher was playing ‘pretend’ too, and had giggled helplessly the first time that he’d demonstrated what he wanted them to do. He swung his arm silently as the class approached a turn they had to make, and the class swung smartly to the left and continued on their way without missing a beat. Mr. Braeman grinned and gave them a 'thumbs up' gesture to show that he was pleased by their performance.
The school principal, Mr. Fletcher, paused outside his office when he saw Mr. Braeman’s class go by. He marveled once again at the way the teacher had gotten his students to move along quietly and all together. No running or screaming in the halls from his pre-schoolers. And no capitol punishment had been threatened, either, to make them behave so well. The teacher was simply good at connecting with the kids, at knowing what to do to get them to behave as he expected them to. Principal Fletcher was pleased that he’d hired Jack Braeman, despite the fact that he was aware that the teacher was gay. Mr. Braeman never brought his personal life to work, and as far as he was concerned that was enough. Especially for such a gifted teacher.
The class swung into the cafeteria, disappearing from sight. The principal smiled and went on his way, for he was always busy with the many duties heaped on a school administrator. Inside the cafeteria, the boys and girls of Mr. Braeman’s pre-school class lined up to get cartons of milk and graham crackers for their afternoon snack from the lunch ladies. They carried these articles over to the tables and found places to sit near each other. Mr. Braeman also got a snack and sat down, which always amused the children. Watching an adult eat graham crackers and drink milk was pretty funny.
“Hey, Mr. Braeman?” lisped one of the tykes, a pretty girl with fat brown pigtails.
“What is it, Suzie?” the teacher asked her, looking down the table to where she was sitting.
“Can we finger paint when we go back to the room? I wanna show you the trees I can make,” she said eagerly.
He smiled. “I think we could do that, if that’s all right with everybody else,” he commented, looking around. “A show of hands? Who wants to finger paint?”
At least a dozen hands shot up into the air. “Well,” the teacher remarked. “It doesn’t look like everybody wants to. Are there any other suggestions about what we could do in free time when we go back to the classroom?”
“I wanna do music time!” yelled a boy with a mop of blonde hair.
Mr. Braeman made shushing noises at him. “A good suggestion, Bradley, but one you don’t have to make at the top of your lungs. Indoor voices, remember?”
The boy put a finger to his lips and looked contrite. “Sorry,” he mumbled around the finger.
“That’s all right. Any other ideas?” the teacher looked around at his students.
“Can we cut out paper aminals?” chirped another girl hopefully.
“That’s another idea. So – which will it be? Finger painting? Music? Or paper animals? I’ll make each suggestion, and whichever you want to do raise your hand. The most votes wins. Okay?”
He waited until everybody nodded, showing that they understood. “All right. Finger painting?” hands shot up again, but less this time.
“Music?” less hands; very few of the students was as enthusiastic as Bradley about music. The blonde boy scowled but accepted this.
“Paper animals?” this got more votes; it was going to be a close one. But… “It looks like paper animals wins. Sorry Suzie. Tell you what, we’ll do finger painting tomorrow. Promise.” Mr. Braeman told his student, who perked up at the thought that she’d still be able to show him her tree painting skills tomorrow. “Kay!” she lisped.
The class finished their snacks and frog marched back to their classroom, where they first got the treat they’d been promised for being good soldiers. After that, they enthusiastically used their blunt safety scissors to cut out some petty wild looking animals, supervised closely by Mr. Braeman. He hung up the finished products on the walls and wrote the students’ names on them so that the parents could see their children’s good work when they came for the next parent/teacher conference. After that they cleaned up the scraps and tidied the room, then it was time to go home. Mr. Braeman marched them out to the buses or their parents’ cars and waved each one off with a smile and an injunction that he’d see them tomorrow at noon, since he taught both a morning and afternoon pre-school class.
The teacher returned to his classroom to do some prep work for tomorrow, although he had far less to do than most of the teachers in the school since his little charges could barely even read yet. After everything was ready to go, he finally departed for the day. His first stop was at a restaurant to grab some food, then he headed off to the gym. He didn’t work out obsessively, he just liked to keep himself in shape. It was easier for him to keep up with his energetic little charges if he was in better shape. Not to mention the fact that the gym was full of hot guys in skimpy clothing working out, which was an added bonus for him.
He stripped off his ‘teacher uniform’ in the locker room, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to work out in. His body wasn’t half bad, if he did say so himself – flat abs, a little bit of definition in his chest muscles, a nice tight ass…which, unfortunately, hadn’t seen much use lately. At all. He sighed as he draped a towel over his neck and went out into the gym to begin his work out. His last boyfriend hadn’t been a winner, and since they’d broken up Jack Braeman had found himself shit out of luck in his quest to find somebody else to replace the deadbeat. Maybe he was too picky – but he liked a certain type of guy, and sadly he hadn’t seen anyone lately who fit the bill. What was wrong with having standards, anyway?
Everything, apparently. He lay down on a bench after adjusting the weights to what he liked and started pumping iron morosely. He was thoroughly enjoying his job, he had a nice little house that he’d bought for peanuts(the housing market being what it was), and he had plenty of friends and a whole swarm of cats at home. But no love in his life. He should be happy with what he had, but how could he? Man, he needed to get laid. Bad. Before he started to eye Principal Fletcher(middle aged, happily married, and balding) or one of the other male teachers at the school. That would be bad, since as far as he knew he was the only gay person working there. And straight men never appreciated being checked out, which seemed kind of silly to him. They should just take it as a compliment when a fairly attractive gay man thought they were hot.
He grunted as he lifted and lowered the weights once more. His blue eyes roved over the gym, taking in all of the hot guys pumping iron or working out on the machines. Damn, what a smorgasbord! There was one he’d love to spot for. Big, muscular, with a tatt gracing his left shoulder. Unfortunately for him, said tatt was of a buxom blonde naked female. Jack grimaced as he looked away. Geez, all the good ones were straight. Or taken, or both. As it was, it looked like he was in for another evening of hanging out with his cats and watering his plants. For a gay man he was sure surrounded by pussy, he thought with a shake of his head as he sat up at last. He mopped at his face and hair with the towel.
With a weary sigh, he got to his feet and wandered off to take a shower. He decided not to do any more tonight. He’d just get some take-out and head home. Maybe he’d be able to find something good to watch on t.v. Probably not though. Television was a vast wasteland these days. He checked out a few more guys in the locker room, but saw only one or two real potentials. The first one was wearing a wedding ring, however, and the second was loudly talking about his car to another man. Jack grimaced as he went into the shower. He hated braggarts. In his opinion, they were simply overcompensating with all of their expensive stuff for something that they didn’t have.
He soaped himself up, idly eyeing the naked men coming and going from the shower. Suddenly his brain and parts lower stood to attention, all of them concentrating on the man who’d just walked into the shower. Damn! The teacher tried not to drool, but it was a losing battle. This guy was just so gorgeous! Buff, bronzed from being outdoors(not a tan in a can), wide shoulders with a face that was a bit craggy but ruggedly handsome. Long hair fell past those broad shoulders, turning darker as the water hit it. A tatt of a serpent coiled over one shoulder and down his arm. A nipple ring flashed in the light as he turned to reach for the soap with one big hand. Dark hair fell in a trail from broad male nipples to his groin. And of course the teacher checked out that area, too, and boy was he not disappointed!
‘I think I’m in love’ he thought dazedly. ‘Or in lust at least’. He just stood there, water running down his body, and gaped at the man. He didn’t have enough motor skills left to look away, which was dangerous. If this guy noticed him staring, and decided he didn’t like being ogled by another man…Jack could be in real trouble. He should move, he knew it, but his brain just wasn’t sending out the proper signals…
The man turned to rinse the last of the soap off of his magnificent body, and stared right at Jack. The teacher winced, waiting for the blow to fall. Waiting for rage to fill the ruggedly handsome face, for the dark grey eyes to narrow in sudden anger, for a snarl to move over a well cut mouth…but instead, to his shock, the man returned the look with interest. Then he smiled, lazily, making Jack wonder distantly if his body was going to explode. Or his head, or both. Then the gorgeous creature actually WINKED at him! With a last amused, appreciative glance, the man strode out of the shower and was gone.
The teacher just stood there for a minute, trying to get his brain to restart. Then he darted out of the shower, intent on finding that hunk and flirting outrageously with him. Or inviting the complete stranger back to his house for a night of wild sex. He didn’t care that he didn’t know this person, that the guy might be a serial killer or something. Or his cock didn’t care, which meant that his brain really didn’t either. When he arrived in the locker room, he didn’t see hide nor hair of the gorgeous stranger. He looked around wildly, but no dice. He could have cursed. Jack wanted to bang his head on his locker in frustration. Damn it! It SO wasn’t fair! He’d finally met someone REALLY interesting at the gym and the guy had up and vanished on him!
Finally he shuffled to his locker to towel off and get dressed, feeling dejected. Life just wasn’t fair. Still, if that guy had been here once he might come again. He’d be willing to come and hang out here every night if that were a possibility. Hell, he’d camp in front of the gym in a tent if he could just meet that guy again. Hell, he knew he was pathetic. But he just didn’t care. He HAD to see that guy again. No matter what it took.
As it turned out, it didn’t take much. Jack was just pulling into a convenience store to gas up his car and buy some pop corn and snacks for his night in front of the television when he saw a motorcycle roar up to the other pump. The leather clad driver stopped the bike and put down the kickstand as the teacher got out of his car. He was somewhat curious about who might be under the glossy black helmet, but only in an idle sort of way. But then hands came up to lift the helmet off, and his interest went from idle to pinpoint in about ten seconds flat.
He just stood there for a moment, staring in shock at the face of the man in the shower at his gym. The stranger hadn’t seen him yet, but he was sure to soon. The teacher wanted to hit his knees and thank God heartily, except for the fact that he wasn’t sure that that particular Deity liked his kind anyway. Maybe it was a power lower down that had directed that the two of them meet like this, but he didn’t care. He’d be joining Marilyn Manson as a Satanist if that were so.
He was just standing there, trying to think how to approach the other man, when the biker happened to look over at him. It took a moment, but recognition entered the dark grey eyes. A lazy smile played over his sensual mouth, and Jack felt rather faint. Or at least weak at the knees, anyway. The stranger began to skirt the gas pumps, and his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. ‘He’s coming over!’ he thought in an excited schoolgirl shriek. God, he was acting like a schoolgirl, and one with her first crush! He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, nor could he seem to pull himself together either.
The biker approached him. “Hey,” he rumbled in a deep voice that made the teacher’s very bones melt. “Weren’t we at the same gym earlier?”
Jack nodded, now unable to speak. His tongue was frozen to the roof of his mouth. “Huh. Small world, I guess,” the biker noted.
“Yeah,” the teacher managed to squeak. Inside his head, he was raging at himself: ‘Get it together, man! Say something flirtatious or urbane! Hell, say anything coherent! Come on!’
The other man was pulling off a pair of leather gloves. “Well, I guess I should introduce myself since this is our second meeting in less than an hour. I’m Devon Miles.”
Before he could introduce himself in turn, or even get his tongue to work, Jack’s world exploded. And it would never, ever be the same again. It started with a screech of tires off to the right, then yelling, and when they both turned to look to see what was going on, he was horrified to see a man in a dark suit emerge from a late model Mercedes and point a gun with a silencer on it at the head of another man just jumping out of a Porsche that had been cut off by the first car. Jack saw a hard, angry face twist into a snarl just as the man pulled the trigger – and blew the back of the other man’s head out right there on the street.
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