A/N: SORRY FOR MY LATENESSSSSSS stuff's been happening lately and this chapter was a bitch to write. And I find it harder to write during holidays than I do during class for some god forsaken reason. Bleh.
This chapter's kinda short but hey, maybe you'll be rewarded with a lemon next chapter~? ;D or not, I don't plan that far ahead...
I LOVE YOU ALL MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE REVIEWERS, FEEL FREE TO DROP ANOTHER ONE AS YOU LEAVE DAAAA~
"Hey there!" Alfred turned away from Toris to see Gilbert, a pale haired boy in his class. He hadn't really talked to Gilbert yet, as far as he was a bit of the loner type. No one seemed to like him much, not that that stopped him from yelling out obsceneties during class and doodling everywhere. "Yo! Gilbert, right?"
"Yep! And you are Alfred! Wanna come hang with me? I'm way more awesome than those unawesome little minions you have there."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Hey, they're awesome. Way awesome. How about you hang with us instead."
Gilbert resisted the urge to snap back at the obnoxious blonde, remembering his plan. "Fine. But only cause you're awesome enough to hang out with me. Which is pretty awesome."
Toris could feel his head spinning from the word "awesome" being used too many times. Of course, this wouldn't be the first time and would definitely not be the last if they were to hang around with Gilbert.
"So what do you think of our art teacher?" Gilbert inquired. His red eyes narrowed as Alfred gave a shudder. "Mr Braginski? He's a creep. Perverted pedo bear freak. I don't even know why they let him teach, I mean did you know that he teaches drunk? I've seen him sneaking off to drink vodka during class." Gilbert nodded with a satisfied smile. So Alfred hadn't fallen for him yet. Good.
"S-Sir…" Matthew knocked hesitantly on the art room door. He stood still for a moment, mesmerised by the way his art teacher's hands delicately ran across the canvas leaving pale yellow strokes in its wake. He watched his teacher's lips curve up into a smile as he saw Matthew.
"Matthew! What brings you here my dear?" Matthew shook himself. "U-um, my p-painting, um, I w-wanted to pick it up." Ivan's smile dropped and he gave Matthew a sad look like an abandoned puppy. "You did not just want to see me?" Matthew shook his head vigorously, struggling to think up a reply. "U-um, n-no, it's not like I d-don't want t-to, I-I just… um, you know, I…" Ivan laughed. "Do not stutter my boy. It is bad for your skin. Your artwork is here." He picked up Matthew's painting and handed it to him. "Do not eat it. It tends to taste a little oily at times."
"O-oh. Okay." Matthew reached out to take the painting, flinching slightly when their fingers connected. "Thank you." He turned to leave but was stopped by the teacher's hand on his shoulder. "Matthew, would you like to stay for a bit? Paint with me? It gets awfully lonely sometimes." Matthew's heart thudded in his chest. "Um, A-Alfred is waiting, I c-can't…" He was stopped when Ivan's arms wrapped around his middle, his face pressing into his neck. "My dear Matthew, surely you could stay for a little bit? Alfred would not mind."
Matthew felt like he was melting. "I-I guess… Um, s-sir?" He gasped as Ivan's tongue flicked out and stroked the vein in his neck. "Sir! I-I…" Ivan's hand began to creep up his t shirt. "Matthew… you are adorable." Matthew closed his eyes. He should be resisting his teacher for so many reasons, but… it felt so good… Mr Braginski's tongue lapping at his collar bone, one hand massaging his nipple. He gasped as his teacher pinched it, rolling it between his fingers. He was so wrapped up in the sensation that he didn't realise Ivan's other hand beginning to slip beneath his waist band.
"Ivan!" Matthew's eyes shot open and he felt his teacher's tongue leave his collarbone and flick back into his mouth as he glared at Gilbert. "What is it now Gilbert?" He snarled.
Gilbert scowled at him. "Alfred is waiting for Matthew. He's getting suspicious because he's taking so long and is about to come up himself. I thought I'd save you the explaining, being so awesome and all."
Matthew pulled his shirt down, forcing Ivan's hand to leave his abs and squirmed out of Mr Braginski's grasp, blushing madly. "I-I'm sorry!" He squeaked before running out of the art room, leaving the two "lovers" having a glaring match, soon to be joined by teeth, tongues and a significant lack of lube on Ivan's part. Gilbert was going to have a hard time walking the next day.
"Matthew, you look a bit down. You okay?" Alfred watched his brother over the breakfast table, his brow creased in worry. "N-no, I'm fine." Matthew remembered what had almost taken place in the art room and turned red, quickly stuffing a pancake in his mouth in an attempt to hide it. "Matthew, you aren't having as much maple syrup today."
"No, I'm not. But I'm fine, really. I just don't really feel like that much maple syrup, that's all." Alfred shook his head and left the breakfast table. There was most definitely something wrong with his brother, and it was most likely something to do with his art teacher.
"Damn sunflowers." Alfred muttered. They were being forced to paint them yet again. Just how obsessed was this teacher? He had a feeling it was all they would be doing in this class for a while. Gilbert chuckled beside him. "I don't mind them. They're pretty awesome, plus I'm so good at art already I don't need to practise anything else."
Alfred snorted, glancing at Gilbert's mess of vomit coloured blobs he called art. "You're just using that as a cover up 'cause you're so bad at it." Gilbert glared at him. "It's called abstract." He snapped. He said this every art lesson.
Meanwhile Mr Braginski was standing directly behind Alfred, pretending to survey his painting while moving closer and closer to his new favourite. It wasn't like Alfred didn't notice this; in fact he was so wrapped up in ignoring the art teacher that he was tense as a rock, leaning quite obviously further and further forward towards his painting.
"Ah, Alfred, your talent obviously does not belong in the oasis of a paintbrush, does it? Where does your passion lie, my little подсолнечник?" Ivan was practically breathing down Alfred's neck now, sending not too pleasant shivers down his back. "I am not too fond of art, sir. Never have been, I prefer expressing my passion with my mouth rather than my hands."
His teacher gave an undoubtedly perverted giggle at this, Alfred realising a second too late exactly what he had said. "Although the first segment of that statement was not too agreeable, I must admit defeat to the last part. Mouths are useful for many things, are they not?"
Ivan walked away leaving Alfred glaring daggers at his back, blushing like a tomato, completely oblivious to Gilbert's matching glare directed at the back of Alfred's head. So he thought he could get away with seducing his lover with that kind of backtalk? What a cheat! He resisted the urge to take him out then and there, instead remembering his awesome ingenius plan that would make Alfred want to shrivel up and die under his boots. Yes, he would get revenge for his stolen lover, even if it took all his patience. Alfred should enjoy every moment of dignity he had left.
Later that day, Matthew was walking towards his art class. He walked a bit quicker than normal, eager to set eyes on his teacher. As usual the class had piled up outside the door and were daring each other to enter. Matthew still didn't know why this was; Mr Braginski seemed nice to him. He shyly raised his hand. "U-um, I'll-" he began, but was interrupted by the door opening itself, nearly slamming into his face as he stepped out of the way just in time.
His breath caught like it always did when he saw his teacher, who giggled. "What are you all doing piled up here? Come in, the door was open." The class bolted in, avoiding the tall male as much as they could. Matthew waited until the last student had filed in before entering, looking up at his teacher shyly. "Hello sir."
Ivan had to admit, the kid was definitely cute. "Would you like to paint with me after school today? I will make sure no one interrupts this time."
Matthew immediately blushed, looking down at the ground before muttering, "I-I'd l-like that." and hurrying away to his canvas.