For one, Mr Schuester was being a lot more subtle about what he wanted. For two, Mr Schuester wasn't hitting fifty. For three, Mr Schuester was a lot easier on the eyes. And for four, probably the most important change, Mr Schuester was in fact a Mister.
He wasn't gay. Even if he had been semi-aroused when that Puckerman dude came on to him with some wierd line about big mouths and tennis balls. He guessed he could possibly be bi, but it wasn't exactly something he thought about in depth. Because recently, when he did begin to think about it, every thought in his head trailed into nothing when that Quinn Fabray chick walked by in her perfectly-fitted cheerleader outfit. What kind of guy could even contemplate doing another guy when a chick like that was on offer? Oh yeah, the kind of guy failing Spanish.
His wandering attention-span being brought back to the familiar situation his female English teacher had chosen to put him in back at his old school. He knew exactly what "do something for me" meant. What he didn't know, was why it was always teachers who resorted to sexually blackmailling him. Why couldn't those short-skirt-wearing cheerleaders consider taking advantage of him? Or even one or two of the guys on the football team. But, he supposed he could do worse than going gay for Mr Schuester. Better than having to explore his gay urges with that Hummel kid. A low, he was not prepared to stoop to.
He'd just have to bite the bullet, and "do a little something" for the Spanish teacher. After all, he really needed this passing grade. That was what he told himself as he took a small step forward to the teacher, perched on the edge of his desk. Hand slipping onto the older man's jean-clad thigh, as his lips moved close to Will's ear "I guess I don't have much of a choice, now, do I?" His hand slipping along his teacher's thigh, towards his groin. Lips dropping to the side of Will's neck, soft kisses being placed.