"Right, up and at 'em," Geraldt sighed as he climbed out of his chair. I was still heated after the brief event, but his voice snapped me back to reality. I looked up at him from my bed. He was leaning against the table, keeping his weight off his injured foot as he limped towards a shelf with an assortment of bits and bobs. He grabbed out a pair of pants, followed by a simple button-up. He started with the shirt, pulling it over his sleeping shirt and buttoning it before finally looking down at his pants.

"You mind helping?" He asked, looking over at me with an exaggerated pout.

"Sure," I responded, getting up from the bed and moving back to the desk. I was at odds with what to do. I could've helped him get his boxers off, but I didn't want to push my luck. He let out a small chuckle at the sight of my dilemma.

"We're just going to put the pants over the boxers. Don't get too hasty," he teased, sticking out his tongue. I nearly punched him, but I helped him regardless. Once we got it onto his good leg, with me awkwardly holding him, we moved to his injured foot.

"You gotta have something looser," I said as I moved the tight pant leg over his leg, trying not to press against the injury. He shrugged distantly, leaning against the table as I worked.

"You look cute from up 'ere," he said. I flushed immediately, trying not to look up from my position. This was going to be a long day, by every means known. If I had to carry him everywhere, we'd already at a disadvantage.

"I'll throw you down on your foot, 'Jer'," I retorted. He chuckled, and I found myself chuckling as well. It was much to my own surprise as well.

"We're knockin' the office first; get your timetable. Then we gotta head to the infirmary to check out this thing."

I nodded, already knowing where the office was. I finally stood up and pulled his pants up, struggling a bit with his thighs.

"Not so rough, boy; you might just regret it," he continued in that teasing voice that always got me back into that shaking state. I don't even think this was 'love'; if anything, it might've been some casual thing to entertain himself with. I didn't know if it would be such a bad thing, quite honestly. Still, he was dressed, and now it was left for me to follow. I didn't do it immediately, and he seemed to get the idea when he limped out of the room.

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There was something heavy in the air after he left. It was a series of jumbled thoughts, unspoken words, and tense sensations that threatened to swallow you if you left them unchecked. I wanted to call him back into the room to let him see me, but I knew that would be going too far. Not to mention, if he did know about what happened last night, he might think I was just playing a game to escape the world around me.

Again, that stupid low-thrumming headache came back, and I found myself at the edge of my bag, reaching for those tablets. That sense of peace and finality it gave me—I needed it. To my luck, there were maybe two left, which meant I'd have to be sparing with them if I wanted this feeling to go on for as long as possible. It meant that, if push came to shove, I'd have to find something else to replace the high. It hurt, seeing how it fell, but it was also the only thing I had. It was like being stuck in a rabbit hole that you dug yourself.

I didn't take it, shoving the bag back under the bed and quickly getting changed. I had to move my underwear a bit to prevent the erection from being too open, but that only made everything worse. It felt like I was committing some unspeakable action. I couldn't get rid of these thoughts. Hell, I could barely manage them. I could hear the tablets calling out to me, promising their sweet release. I had to leave before it got too much. Geraldt was already waiting long enough.

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To my surprise, Gerald hadn't left but had leaned against the wall. He was waiting patiently, turning around with a smile when he heard me open the door.

"All done?"

"Mostly," I chuckled, dismissing the heavy air that surrounded me. He nodded and reached out to me, holding onto my shoulder as he got his stance right. Soon, we began our trek across the school. The first place was obvious: the office. Geraldt looked down at his watch, making sure that it was the right time.

"Let's walk slower; we're still five minutes early," he sighed. We adjusted our speed, covering the distance in about three minutes. Luckily, there was a receptionist in the office who saw us and buzzed us in. Geraldt, the type that he was, began speaking before me.

"Morning, ma'am, hope you're doin' well."

"Well, as can be. Cold as all hell," she said. Geraldt chuckled, that debonair smile with its little crooked teeth.

"That's the way it is," Geraldt responded. "We've got a newbie here. He needs his timetable."

"Oh, a newbie," she said as she donned her glasses.

"Well, look at you; aren't you handsome? He does seem a bit skinny though," she commented almost naturally. "you do any sports?"

"Not yet, ma'am," I lied. I didn't know whether I would actually end up doing sports at all.

"I think he'd do well on the swimming team," she mused. The room went quiet for a bit before she suddenly spoke up again:

"Oh, I forgot; your name is?"

"Aaron de Campos," I answered. She typed on her computer, scrolling for a bit before clicking a few times. The printer next to her whirred to life before spitting out a piece of printed paper.

"Right, here's your timetable." She pulled the paper and handed it to me. I grabbed it quickly and looked down at it.

"And I sent an email already to the teachers to have your work brought to you. Tomorrow, though, you gotta start going. There's no more excuses."

"Then who's going to keep me company?" Geraldt whined, jutting out his bottom lip. The receptionist only laughed.

"You came down to reception anyway. Now, the infirmary is open, but you might wan' to wait a few minutes so that the nurse can get his stuff ready."