Is This Real? - Chapter One- Real or Not?

Naruto steps into his first period class, Art. Smiling he heads to his usual seat in the back to enjoy a day of sketching his favorite subject, his teacher. The first bell rings and his teacher steps into the classroom. Naruto stares at him unashamed. His infatuation with the young teacher wasn't unknown among his friends, however few that may be.

Itachi Uchiha looks up to check on his classroom and make sure none of the students were doing anything stupid or dangerous, but also to secretly spy on a certain blonde student of his, who's name happens to be Uzumaki Naruto.

He had tried to shake these feeling at the beginning of the year but the refused to vacate his mind and so he simply accepted his lust for the young blonde. The boy had just turned eighteen years old, and Itachi was ecstatic about it. It meant the boy was no longer underage, which in turn meant Itachi had a good chance of winning the blonde's tight little ass all for himself. However the brunette teacher never suspected his feelings as anything more than lust.

The bell rings and snaps Naruto out of his daze. Standing he prepares to leave for his next class, knowing Mr. Umino didn't enjoy them being late, at all. Before he could leave however, he is called back by a baritone voice he would recognize anywhere.

"Please stay after class Mr. Uzumaki."

"H-Hai Mr. Uchiha" the blonde replies meekly, before turning and taking a seat at one of the desks in the front row, waiting for Itachi to begin speaking. Itachi stops looking at the papers in his hand and sets them down, removing his glasses as he did so. Naruto stares at the brunette in awe, he had never seen Itachi without his glasses and he looked ten times as fucking sexy without them. The blonde could feel his member hardening by just looking at the older man.

"Mr. Uzumaki, you have shown great talent in art, freestyle sketching to be exact, I have a friend, trying to start up an art gallery down the street. I've seen you sketching in the back of class away from the others, I'd like to see these pieces, along with the rest of your portfolio, if they are good enough I plan to recommend them for the upcoming opening of the gallery." Itachi deadpans, staring directly at the young fox like blonde.

Naruto stares at his teacher, his mouth agape, wondering if he was dreaming.

Is he Fucking Serious! No fucking way, No fucking way in HELL! Shit! Drawings right!

Naruto jumps to run and get his drawings from the back of the room and hands them to his teacher. Then it hits him.

Shit! There is all those pictures of him in there! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!

Itachi looks at the suddenly flustered blonde, who looks to be chewing himself out about something or other before opening up the sketch book. Staring blankly at the first picture he glances up at Naruto before glancing back down at the impeccable drawing of himself teaching. Itachi's lips twitch up slightly before going back to his deadpan face.

"The rest of your Portfolio Mr. Uzumaki?" Itachi states still flipping through the Sketchbook, through the numerous pictures of him.

Naruto jumps slightly at the sudden sound of Itachi speaking. "U-Uh, it's in my locker." The blonde kitsune replies quietly.

"Well go and get it, I would like to see your colors and paintings as well" Itachi tells him. Naruto nods vigorously and sprints out of the classroom and down the hall. Itachi watches as he passes back by the door, obviously realizing he went the wrong way. Itachi almost chuckles, almost.

He then turns his attention back to the sketches in his hand. It was quite surprising to find the blonde drew almost nothing but he, himself. Surprising but also very pleasurable, knowing the blonde thought of nothing but him most of the time he was drawing. Aside from the fact that most of them were of himself, albeit in different situations and poses, one of his favorite being one of him sitting beneath the large Sakura Tree in the courtyard of the school reading, the drawings were exceptional. They looked professional even though they were very sketching and scatter lined drawings. Definatly worthy of getting a scholarship into Konoha Art Academy.

Naruto comes screeching back into the classroom, a fairly good sized black portfolio safely in his arms. Itachi takes it from him and opens it, to see painting of beautiful scenery. Mountains, Sakura Tree, Forests, Animals, and even Statues and live people walking through central square. To say the pieces of artwork were astounding would be an understatement, they could rival the greatest artists in the world.

Itachi abruptly shuts the portfolio and looks at Naruto, seeing the blonde standing there, fidgeting and glancing nervously at him. Itachi for once smiles.

"Congratulations Naruto-kun, your pieces will be the main display, and I will be running it by the school board to get you a scholarship to Konoha Art Academy."

Naruto's face lights up in pure unadulterated joy and he tackles Itachi in a bone crushing hug, Itachi's stomach twists into a knot.

Is this real? Is what I'm feeling for this boy truly real? Itachi thinks confusedly.

Naruto then realizes what he'd done and he quickly releases Itachi, blushing furiously. Itachi almost frowns at the loss of contact, but instead simply moves forward and envelops the blonde in a hug. Naruto freezes up before hugging Itachi back.

Is this real? Is he really hugging me? He thinks as Itachi buries his nose in the crick of his neck.

"Don't let go, not yet." Itachi whispers into Naruto's ear in his illegally seductive baritone voice, sending shivers down the blondes spine.

"Alright, I won't." Naruto replies quietly before tightening his hold on his teacher and his long time unrequited love.

TBC MaybeHey all, Please review and tell me whether or not to continue, as soon as i get three people saying i should continue i'll post the next chapter. There will only be another One or Two Chapters, but i needed something to distract me from Multirounds for a little bit.Anyway, I'm done rambling, Please let me know if I should continue!SayonaraAlexander