Rick walks down the stairs, carrying a bag of wet towels, an odd aroma around him. Chris squeezes against the railing, trying to avert his eyes from Rick's naked, broad upper torso.
"Eh, Chris." Rick smiles warmly.
Chris stamors, "Hello, Mr. Braderic. How are you doing?"
Rick shakes his head, turning down around the base of the stairs towards the basement door. "Oh, I've had better."
Chris hangs midway up the stairs, a question burning. "How did you know my name?"
Rick begins down the stairs. "I saw you when I was visiting my sister's class. You know she thinks you're quite the bright pupil?" Rick disappears down the stairs. His voice echoes upwards, "Brandon seems to think you're cool, too."
Chris looks up at Brandon surprised. Brandon shakes his head, a bit of inadvertent blushing surfaces. "I said you were smart and would probably do really well." Brandon looks towards his room, seeing the mess was clear. He looks back to Chris. "C'mon. This is my room." He points down the hall.
"Mind if I use the bathroom? I need to..." He points at the sticky mess on his shirt.
"No problem." Brandon arches his arm up towards his shoulder and points a thumb behind him. "Right there. I'll leave a shirt outside the door."
"Thanks." Chris ducks into the bathroom, locking the door behind. He looks around, gaining some bearing. He sees the sink and mirror then strides up beside them. He undoes the top button of his shirt and works it up over his head, his slightly rotund belly causing him to frown. He drops the shirt in the basin and begins some water over it. Grabbing a wash cloth, he swabs at the stickiness over his shoulder. He stops, catching an odd scent. He sniffs down at his pits, catching just the oder of deodorant. He shrugs to his reflection and continues rubbing. He leans down and rinses the cloth. He stops again, smelling the oder. He backs up and looks under the sink. As he kneels the smell strengthens. It was a sweat like stink, whatever it was. He wondered if Brandon was the type to leave boxers around. Chris gets down on his knees and starts peering around. The smell comes stronger by the toilet. Apprehensively he hobbles towards the throne, turning his nose to the lid with worry. The bowl smelled like chlorine. He frowns and kneels down beside the seat, looking behind. He can't see any source, but the aroma is pungent. He flips to the other side, but doesn't catch glimpse of the cause. He starts back up onto his legs but freezes mid gesture. Clinging to the white trim gleamed a drizzle of pale fluid. Chris recognized the substance immediately. He gasped and grabbed his mouth to stifle the sound.
Chris shoots an eye back at the door, looking for the bottom of feet or worse, a peering eye. He sees by the floor the shadow outline of something. He moves towards the door and listens quietly, easing his ear to the wood. The hall is silent. Chris musters a breath and quietly cracks open the door. No one was in the hall. He looks down, a shirt sits folded for him. Chris leans down quickly, scoops up the shirt and locks himself back within. He tosses the shirt onto the counter and gets back down beside the toilet.
He leans close, sniffing it lightly. It had a strong manly wreak, like some sports equipment, sweaty undergarments. It had the semen scent about it, but the masculine stink was much stronger. Chris imagines what Brandon's crotch must smell like. A pleasant smile creeps up his cheek, and he pokes his finger into the puddle. He slicks the substance over his index and thumb then sniffs it again. He darts an eye back at the door, looking for any ominous shadows, then turns back to the attraction. He presses his finger over his tongue and sucks until the taste dissipates. He moves to his thumb, sucking it back into his throat then rolling his tongue along the digit like he was trying to drink.
Several knocks jar at the door. "Finding everything okay?" Brandon's voice calls through the door.
Chris stands up quickly. His voice cracks, "Yeah, almost done."
Brandon answers back, "Good. I hope the shirt fits you."
Chris grabs a towel and rubs his shoulder dry. He hops over to the counter and pulls the shirt over. It was baggy, and the style seemed funny on him, but not a bad match. Chris inspects his reflection, "Looks fine. I'll be right out." Chris snarls at what he just said. He could have kicked himself for not milking for more time.
"Good. When you get out, I'd like to ask you a bit of stuff about the homework." Brandon's feet padded away towards his room.
Chris takes several quick steps and scoops a dollop of gel up into his mouth, holds it on his tongue, letting the taste spread. He sighs and gulps. He cups a handful of water to his mouth and rinses down the taste. He opens the door and turns towards Brandon's room.
Brandon hops up from his desk and turns the chair for Chris to sit. Chris uneasily gets down into the chair, looks back to notice Brandon is a few feet away, tipping up on his toes to look over.
“Is everything okay?” Chris asks worried.
Brandon nods, keeping his distance. “Oh, yeah...” He fidgets uneasily. “It's just that... I haven't had any symptoms in a while.”
Chris shakes his head. “So?”
Brandon's head turns a shade more red. “I'm just,” he pauses, “worried that I'm due for some more.”
Chris' eyes shift around with some confusion. He gradually asks, “are you going to be able to see what I'm doing?”
Brandon nods. “Oh yeah. My eyes are fine from this distance.”
Chris just bites his lip and turns back to the sheets, shifting so Brandon could better see. Chris' mind mulls that Brandon might have seen something. Just the thought made his gut churn. Chris points over a few problems, bringing up the new methods Brandon would need. He feels Chris' eyes behind him. A cold sweet starts across his brow. Chris' voice starts to stutter, choking on simple words. Brandon's shirt begins to feel hot around him. He adjusts the neck, pulling the fabric up where it clings to his skin.
“You okay?” Brandon's voice asks, causing Chris to jump.
Chris turns slowly, feeling awkward as he ever had. “Uh, yea.. yeah. I'm just feeling,” Chris stops, feeling his pants starting to get tight around sudden unexpected and increasing arousal. Chris spins back towards the desk, his face blushing uncontrollably. “Just feeling a bit warm.”