No smut but there is masturbation so hopefully that'll tide some people over for now. I've been meaning to get this chapter up for weeks but I've been busy and then I was lazy so I hope you guys enjoy this. please review.

Charlie woke up the next day, his limbs tangled in the soft fresh sheets. He yawned loudly and stretched like a large cat. Charlie smiled as he thought about the night before, how Mr. Keating had carried him up to the guest room and whispered that poem into his ear. He remembered being carried in his former teacher's strong arms and how he had nuzzled his face into Mr. Keating's chest, deeply inhaling the other man's scent.

Charlie moaned as he felt his want growing between his thighs. Looking to his left he saw that the bedroom door was securely closed. He closed his eyes and let his hand drift down to the waist band of his boxers, pushing the restricting piece of clothing until his cock was free. His fingers brushed against his shaft and he bit back a loud moan.

He felt ashamed and aroused as he imagined that it was Mr. Keating's hand stroking him instead of his own. Charlie gasped and raised his hips slightly off the bed, longing for the feeling of John Keating above him. He stroked himself faster and faster until he felt his stomach tighten and Charlie barely had time to bit his tongue to cover his moan as he came hard all over his stomach.

He lay back against the pillows breathing heavily; his eyes still closed his thoughts still on Mr. Keating. Charlie felt slightly ashamed as he thought about how Mr. Keating had let him into his home and had showed such concern for him after what his father did. If he knew what Charlie had just done, knew it was him Charlie had been fantasizing about for months the older man would surely kick him out onto the streets. Sighing he reached over and grabbed a tissue from off the bed side table and cleaned himself up quickly before getting out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

He stood under the hot spray, hoping that the water would wash away everything, his past, his bruises and cuts, but most of all he hoped the water would wash away his sinful thoughts. He became frustrated as the water did nothing but roll off his pale skin and drip from his hair. Picking up a wash rag he began to scrub hoping that would be the answer. He scrubbed harder and harder until his skin turned an angry shade of red and some of his cuts reopened and blood began to trail down his skin, mixing with the water until the drops were a pale pink instead of red.

He looked down at the bleeding cuts and thought of the night that his father had decided to discipline him. He couldn't think of what his father had done as abuse or wrong in any way. He had been disciplined for as long as he could remember, when ever he had done anything wrong at school or at home it was his father's job to try and teach Charlie not to do it again.

Charlie shivered under the now freezing water, his numb fingers clumsily shut off the water. He stood in the bathtub, shivering violently as he watched the last of the water and pale blood circled down the drain.

John looked up as he heard Charlie enter the kitchen. "Sleep well?" Keating asked as Charlie sat down at the kitchen table across from his former teacher, a plate of pancakes and bacon was waiting for him.

"Yea, those pain meds really did a number on me, I don't even remember walking up to the guest bedroom," Charlie lied.

"Did the medication help with the pain any?" Keating asked redirecting the conversation a bit.

"Yea for the most part, my side and right leg still hurts but at least my whole body doesn't hurt anymore just kind of aches," Charlie said before taking a bite of bacon.

"That's good," John said his eyes furrowed as he saw a red stain on Charlie's green sweater.

"Charlie?" John said worriedly.

Charlie looked up at him "Yes?"

"What's that?" John said pointing to the stain on Charlie's upper right arm. Charlie looked at his sweatshirt. "Dammit," he mumbled.

"Charlie?" John's voice was laced with concern.

"It's nothing captain, really…thanks for breakfast," Charlie said before standing from the table and fleeing the room.

John followed him up the stairs and to the bathroom.

"It's nothing Mr. Keating really," Charlie said as John entered the bathroom to see that Charlie had pulled the sleeve up to his shoulder to reveal two deep cuts that had recently been reopened. The teen was trying hard to get the slow bleeding to stop.

"Charlie," John said with a pained sigh before gently grabbing Charlie's bloody left hand and moved it away. Charlie looked up at his captain as he grabbed a large bandage from the bathroom closet and a wash rag.

Charlie watched as Mr. Keating tenderly cleaned and dressed his cuts for him. He savored the feeling of John's hands on his arm and wished for more contact.

"Thank you Mr. Keating," Charlie said his voice small with wonder.

Keating only smiled "Call me John."

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