She grins. "That's so cute! The transfer whose dick you were gushing about, right?"

"Yeah! Guess we both kinda, ah, caught feelings, there."

"Well," she says seriously, "just remember one thing."

She leans in close.

"I have three beautiful girlfriends and they all smoke weed, so I'm still cooler than you."

He sporfles. "Should I start collecting to compete? My next target is that gorgeous Canadian transfer, wonder if I can also seduce him in one day."

Vivian narrows her eyes and punches a fist into her hand. "Thin ice, Orland. Thin ice." Then she shakes her hand out theatrically, and her expression goes more solemn. "Seriously, though, you're just gonna fuck him, not try to add him to the relationship geometry? Because you really should appreciate your shiny new boy for at least a couple of weeks before trying to open up the poly can of worms."

"—I mean, to some extent it's already open. 'Cause like. We talked about it. A bit? I guess we didn't talk very explicitly about it." Thoughtful hum. "Well I don't really know Tintin yet and Edmund is literally my first actual crush so like what are the odds Tintin will be the second." Shrug. "Anyway we both wanna eat him out."

Vivian nods approvingly. "That's just sensible."

"It is!"

And you know what's also sensible? A full on French kiss with accompanying groping when he runs into Edmund that morning because now he can just do that.

Squeak! "Hullo there!"

"Hey, handsome." Ass squeeze. "Yesterday I found out—you know what I mean—that my parents have a boyfriend? Well my dad does, it's apparently never really been clear even to this timeline's me what their relationship with my mother is like but my dad is definitely dating this dude."

"Oh! That's - either cool or kind of distressing depending on how you feel about him?"

"He's great, I used to call him uncle Nate on this timeline when I was smaller. He's kind of a goth but it's cool."

"Good! I'm very happy for your father, and possibly your mother."

Further kissing? Maybe some further groping too?

Definitely further both of those things, with perhaps some erstwhile-indecent genital action.

Ooh. Edmund likes the sound of that.

Homeroom is, by some definitions, a class, so their homeroom teacher might find it in herself to object if he gets on his knees right here. This is terribly sad. However, no one could possibly object to him sucking on James' neck for a few seconds to leave a vividly red mark.

This is true. However: "You can blow me later, I still haven't forgotten I'd promised you that."

"Good."

The teacher clears her throat, and Edmund returns to his seat. Attendance! Pledge of Allegiance, for which Edmund remains seated! Announcements over the PA system!

"...and Homecoming will be held in the gymnasium tonight at 7:00 PM," drones the vice-principal. "We encourage students to dress for the occasion."

"What on earth is a Homecoming?" Edmund wonders.

A girl next to him yawns. "S'a party. Celebrates the start of the year."

"Come on, I'm sure you must have watched some American movie about high school with it. Didn't High School Musical have it?"

"I've heard of prom? Don't think Homecoming ever featured in anything."

The girl nods. "Prom's more... pairwise? Homecoming you can come with somebody but mostly it's just a party."

"Which means you can come with multiple somebodies."

She shrugs. "You could probably take a throuple to prom."

"God I hate that word," Edmund contributes.

"I prefer triad," James agrees, "but Homecoming is somewhat more freeform."

"Are you wondering, perhaps, if mister Saint-Martin is inclined to come."

"I am not, because I am dragging him to it regardless."

"Good, good."

Bell! Off to English class?

Off to English class!

...he's a nerd on this timeline. It... should have been obvious when Edmund added the bit about how students in good academic standing could be used for relief that he would get the fucking best academic standing ever.

And he can't even disagree with that, he's gonna be such a good fucking student for this dumb class. Ughhhhhhhhh.

"Good morning mister Orland, mister Pevensie." Mr. Dresden's voice is much warmer than James remembers from the other timeline. "I'm handing back the summer reading work today, and I must say I'm impressed by your work, both of you. I already knew James had a brain in his head, but having two such gentlemen in the same class is really more than I could have hoped for."

"Um. Thank you. I'd already read Pride and Prejudice, to be fair."

"Mister Pevensie, I'd recommend you take compliments when you get them. Also, the fact that you've read Pride and Prejudice at all puts you head and shoulders above most of your classmates."

Double vision whiplash again, yikes.

"Thank you, Mr. Dresden. And to be fair, Pride and Prejudice is great. I actually read Sense and Sensibility first—or tried to—and couldn't get into it for some reason when I did. I think there was something about Austen's style that didn't really click in my head until P&P? But after that it was kind of opening the floodgates."

Oh God what kind of suck-up nerd is he, and he even means every word he's saying.

"Oh, yes, I'd never recommend Austen in chronological order. Sensibility is - first of all it's grim, second of all it's got a lot of commentary on 19th-century British inside baseball that has absolutely nothing to do with your life as an American teenager. Prejudice is lighter, fluffier, and all around a better introduction to Austen's style. Have you watched Bridget Jones' Diary, it's - well, honestly it's raunchy nonsense but you might well enjoy it. It's based on the novel. Distantly. - anyway you should get to your seats, it's about to -"

Bell!

"Yes, that."

"I haven't, actually! But I'll give it a go later, thank you, Mr. Dresden."

Class ensues! About fifteen minutes in, Matt (whose mesh jockstrap is stretched out well past capacity at the moment) raises his hand.

"Yes, mister Murtagh?"

Matt puts his hand down and massages his crotch. "I need to use a volunteer."

A sigh. "It's the first class of the day, did you not - well. Far be it from me to deny the bare necessities of life. Mister Orland, will you accompany mister Murtagh to the restroom?"

"Yes, sir."

He is a proper student who will not show undue glee especially given that most of the glee doesn't even come from this timeline.

Matt leaves the classroom. The nearest restroom is across the hall, and Matt heads inside.

Another moment of double vision; it's more spacious in here, the stalls all about the size that would've been reserved for a handicap stall. There are several kneeling pads against one of the walls. And it's much cleaner; it barely smells at all like stale piss.

"Right. Knees," Matt grunts, once they're at a station.

Onto his knees like an obedient little relief toy.

And Matt tucks the strap under his balls and shoves his cock down James' throat. Unlike Edmund, he has absolutely no desire to make this easy on James. He's rougher than average even for a random relief candidate, really. He might have some aggression to work out.

That does make it harder for him to apply his whole host of techniques here but honestly it's still kinda really hot. He's already hard and leaking himself, and reaches down to start jerking himself off with one hand while the other hand helps his mouth with the job of giving this pent-up boy a great orgasm.

Matt makes a mildly disgusted noise. "Of course you're getting off on this." His booted foot nudges James' balls. "Bitch-boy."

He moans at the nudge, but Matt is not small by any means and he has no space to speak.

Not that he wants to, of course—bitch-boy, getting off on being used and humiliated by the het. It's hot.

Matt's motions get faster and harder, his pelvis bashing into James' nose. "Yeah, take it - fucking take it -"

The door to the restroom opens, admitting another boy - looks to be a senior. Matt doesn't notice or care as he steps up to the urinals.

James is now moaning more or less continuously. He is also finding that this timeline has achieved his goal from the other timeline of completely training himself out of a gag reflex. He was making good headway before! But now it's done and it's fucking glorious, and the precum he's leaking is pooling on the floor.

Someone new arriving, of course, does not help at all, which is to say it helps a lot because now he wants to make it a show—arc his back and focus a bit more on what his face is doing and jut his dick out forward for better visibility and—

New boy glances over from where he's standing. "Your slut wants attention pretty bad," he notes.

"Yeah, he gets off on it," Matt grunts. "Fucking annoying."

Silence but for groans, grunts, and porcelain splashing.

The senior's stream dies down: he shakes dry and strolls over, stroking himself languidly. "Mind if I butt in?"

Matt rolls his eyes. "If you really gotta."

The senior chivvies James up onto all fours and starts fingering him open, gently but without unnecessarily asking his permission first. "Yeah, there we go, good boy," he murmurs. "Good slut."

Oh yes please. He's a good boy, such a good boy, such a good slut, he'll do whatever they want. He doesn't need a ton of prep, he's always ready for dick, or so he'd like to think. He perks his ass up and makes sure to not stop sucking but he doesn't need words to communicate more, please.

And soon he's being spitroasted in the school bathroom! The senior fucks him thoughtfully but thoroughly; Matt continues pounding his throat like there's no tomorrow.

Honestly given how much they've been changing reality lately there might not be a tomorrow, from some perspectives.

But who cares James is pretty sure the moment he stops holding himself back he's going to come. He's even stopped jerking off because he doesn't want to end too soon—definitely he should only come after he's filled in both ends.

Matt soon yanks his cock out of James' mouth and slaps him a couple of times with it before starting to spray a ridiculous volume of cum all over his face and hair. "Fuuuuuck," he groans.

James kind of wanted to swallow, but you know what, facials are still pretty fucking hot. He moans louder now that his mouth isn't filled with cock and keeps bouncing against the senior.

The senior slaps his ass and starts filling him, as Matt decides he's sufficiently painted and slips back into his mouth to deposit the rest of his load.

Oh best of both worlds, Christ yes he lets himself release it and comes all over the floor.

(Should he go back to class painted and dripping cum? We'll see, for now he's too busy having a fucking fantastic orgasm.)

There's a few moments of panting and post-orgasmic limpness. Then:

"Alright," the senior says, "no time for afterglow, let's rinse off and get back to our respective classes."

"Ughhh," Matt groans.

James licks his lips and gets to his feet slowly, stretching and cracking his joints. And still kind of grinning dumbly.

There's a row of showerheads, like in the gym locker rooms of the old timeline. There's also soap and shampoo pumps, and a dispenser and receptacle for towels outside the splash radius.

Sex world tech is great. He kind of wants to accidentally miss some of the cum on him but honestly that would probably not be that hot actually. If he's not dripping cum everywhere he goes what's the point?

He showers and uses a towel from the dispenser to dry off.

And Matt brings him back to the classroom, where Mr. Dresden is diagramming relationships between the characters. He nods to the returning prodigals.

"Had fun?" Edmund murmurs as James sits down.

"I absolutely did, a senior joined in and I am only very sad that I decided against coming back here dripping."

"Ridiculous," Edmund says, but his cock twitches at the thought.

"If you tell me to do it I'll do it," he whispers as he gets back to his seat.

"Mm. No, I want you dripping my cum if it's anyone's."

"Even better."

Edmund's hard, now, and his hand wanders down to idly fondle himself. While listening to the dulcet tones of Mr. Dresden talking about internecine Bennett relations.

James visibly licks his lips at him while looking at his dick for a bit but then looks back at the teacher. He has to stay a good student after all.

Mr. Dresden is not one of those teachers who fights to keep everyone's attention up to the bell; five minutes before, with disconcertingly accurate timing, he assigns homework and lets the students work among themselves.

Edmund continues writing on the same notebook page where he had been taking his notes. If James glances over he might notice some odd, unAustenly words on that page.

In accordance with the school's values, teachers are not to wear clothing while in class
Might have knock-on effects w.r.t. ambient Christianity, authoritarianism

The staffroom glory holes are to be attended by a valid relief student at least 4 periods out of the day
Doubt anyone else wants to suck off their teachers and I only want one of them

Mr. Dresden specifically is to fuck Edmund Pevensie specifically in front of everyone and call him a dirty slut
We could be retroactively creating an HIV vaccine, this is stupid

"I would totally suck my teachers off," James says casually, reading over Edmund's shoulder.

Edmund jumps. "Oh, of course you would, but - hmm. I don't know. It's - I need to stop thinking about how to use my fabulous reality-altering powers to get into one man's pants, it's thoroughly embarrassing."

"I think," and he lowers his voice enough to not be heard, "Mr. Dresden in particular will be a tough nut to crack. He got more clothed the more naked we did, and even in the orgy world he was still very—himself."

"Yes, but that perversely makes him more appealing. If he'd just take his clothes off I could move on with my life."

"And would the glory hole help any with that? How would you know it's him?"

"A certain ineffable cockfeel? I don't know! I'm actively trying to argue myself out of this whole thing!"

"Oh, no, definitely don't, if this is possible I, too, would love to experience the ineffable cockfeel."

Edmund bites his lip. "I do feel like the staff gloryhole is sort of inspired. But I don't know how to clarify a way for, um, patrons, to determine their... clients?"

"That'd kinda defeat the point of gloryholes, though, wouldn't it? It's meant to be anonymous on both sides."

"Ugh. You're probably right..."

Lo, the bell. "Maybe I'll have something by day's end," Edmund says, gathering possessions. "But hopefully I'll have moved on with my life."

"It's only a few days-old crush," he says, as if the same could not literally be said of the thing going on between Edmund and himself, "it might go away on its own.

"Does feel like a shame to—" and he catches himself before saying "be God" because he feels that would not land right with Edmund "—have these powers if we can't use it to get consensual sex out of willing participants we find hot."

Edmund makes a noise like a mildly upset cat.

James sporfles and hugs him. "You are adorable."

Hug. With only a little bit of desperate rubbing against James' thigh.

"You should maybe channel your memories of this timeline a bit more to deal with the horny. Or at least hold it until we have enough time that you can fuck me properly."

"It's not just the horny. I never properly had a boyfriend before."

"Oh, well, same."

"It's just, you know, you're right there. It makes it hard. To concentrate."

"Not the only hard thing, here. —I know, I know, but it was right there."

"Congratulations on the basic pattern recognition."

With a quick kiss, Edmund vanishes into the crowd of the hallway, heading towards his next class.

James has a plan.

...well, the beginnings of one. Really, more like an aspiration. Something that might grow into a plan someday.

But he's not patient enough for someday, so instead what he'll do is try to do something today. Later.

In the meantime he runs into Tintin and commences project Become Tintin's Friend.

"Hi again!"

"Hallo!" Tintin says. "-oh, we would run into each other, wouldn't we, aren't we in Biology together next? I hadn't really noticed because we hadn't met..."

I noticed, he doesn't say, because it isn't really true, he only noticed Tintin at the orgy and also probably this would come off less like flirting and more like stalking—

—actually, no, in this timeline he did notice. Tintin was much more obviously incredibly hot naked.

—that doesn't actually make it better.

"Yeah. You find someone to sit with yet?"

"No, not yet. Are you offering? Will you be leaving whoever you otherwise planned to sit with terribly bereft? Well, I suppose whoever it is would be more likely to have backup friends than I am."

"My usual suspects aren't in AP bio and my unusual suspects probably have other backups, yeah. Besides, I'm on the welcoming committee," because he's a nerd in this timeline, "so it is my job to welcome new students."

"I'd be delighted, then. Science goes much more smoothly with a lab partner you can trust."

"Not sure high school biology really counts as science. More like playing in the playground next to science."

"A science-themed playground, at least! You are not wrong that it is not real, but it is real enough that an unhelpful lab partner can fuck it up."

"That you are not wrong about," he agrees easily. And here's the bio classroom.

They can sit together! The teacher has placed an instruction sheet and a supply bin at each table for their first lab, which will be extracting DNA from strawberries.

"Oh, that sounds fun," Tintin says.

"In specific or in general?"