This was actually finished yesterday. Hur. My excuse? I was at a crazy midnight ramen Russia chicken dance sleepover. I am now dead. *snooze*
OMG This is the closest to lemon I've ever written! kyah! I hope it isn't too bad! It's a bit short but... It has a lemony thingy so... I hope you will be happy with it! I'll go hide now... /
Matthew stood outside the art room door, furiously debating with himself whether it was really a good idea to "paint" with his art teacher. He had managed to convince Alfred that he was staying behind so he could have help from his math teacher; if his brother knew that he was in fact going to the very man that he constantly complained about being perverted, he would have never gotten to this point.
Matthew didn't even know why Alfred hated the artist so much. He was so… beautiful… he remembered the Russian's long thin fingers lovingly stroking the paintbrush across the canvas, the sunflowers he seemed to love so much blossoming from his fingertips. He remembered those same fingertips brushing against his abs with the same tenderness, the tingling pleasure radiating from every touch... Matthew shook himself. He wanted – no, he needed to feel that again. He placed a hand on the door and pulled it open.
There he was. Mr Braginski was, as usual, painting. This time it was a single blooming flower, surrounded by dense rocky grounds. The teacher turned, his violet eyes lighting up at the sight of the seventeen-year-old. "Matthew! You came! I am glad. Come join me little one."
Matthew trembled slightly as he made his way across the art room to a blank canvas next to his teacher's. He shakily lifted a pencil and was about to begin sketching when he paused. His hand hovered in front of the canvas as he struggled to decide what to draw. It wasn't made any easier that the older was a hair width away. If he only turned his head slightly he would be able to see him. See his pale blond hair, nearly silver in colour, his deep purple eyes and soft skin, pale pink lips curved in a distant smile and-
"Matthew!" He awoke from his daze to see Mr Braginski staring in wonder at his canvas. Why? He followed his gaze and gasped, reeling back slightly at what he saw. There he was. An illustration of his art teacher perfect in every way. There was no way he could have drawn that – right? "Mattie, that is…"
Matthew blushed in embarrassment at being called Mattie and his teacher seeing what he had drawn seemingly subconsciously. "Your talent is… amazing. It is perfect. Although… I saw the expression in your eyes. Glazed over, distant, like you were somewhere else entirely, da? That is rather professional little one. You see, a true artist does not need to concentrate too hard. They allow their hands to explore the deepest aspects of their minds. My dear, you could be a rather extraordinary artist if you wished it. Oh, but that means you were thinking of me, nyet? You are very beautiful, my little one. I am so happy to have a place in your thoughts."
Matthew struggled to compose a thank you out of his stunned lips, but before he could the Russian had pressed his own against Matthew's. He felt the rest of the world melt away, his body frozen in surprise. He felt his teacher's tongue prod against his bottom lip and he obediently parted them, moaning into the kiss as he felt the blonde's tongue explore his mouth, not hesitating before allowing his tongue to dip into the other's. It wasn't long before he couldn't tell anymore where his mouth ended and his teacher's began. It was all just a mess of saliva and tongues, battling for dominance.
He felt Mr Braginski's mouth leave his, still connected by a string of saliva. The older licked his lip, breaking it. Matthew was panting heavily. It was the furthest he had ever been with anyone, let alone a guy. Wait, when was his shirt taken off? Looking around him in confusion he saw that his wasn't the only shirt that was on the ground. He looked up at his teacher, taking in his smooth white skin, barely covering the muscles beneath. He felt his pants grow tight and looked away in embarrassment.
Ivan pulled Matthew in for another kiss. This time he raised a hand and began to massage the younger's nipple, shifting his kisses to Matthew's jaw and down his neck, leaving a blooming red hickey on his collar bone. He explored the teenager with his hands, kissing all over and pausing when he reached his nipple, running his tongue in lazy circles and brushing his teeth against the sensitive skin, elicting a moan from the younger.
He moved onto the other nipple, his hands beginning to work on Matthew's belt. The other was too in ecstasy to realise this, causing Ivan to smirk against his skin. Once he managed to undo the annoying leather strap he slipped off his pants and made short work of his own.
He kept kissing the younger lower and lower, flicking his belly button with his tongue, causing Matthew to squirm slightly. When Ivan rested his palm on the boy's growing bulge he gasped, finally catching onto what was actually happening. "S-Sir, are you sure this is alright?" He groaned. Ivan giggled. "It is fine." He stopped palming the teenager and pulled his boxers down. "Matthew, you are beautiful." He smiled. To be honest he had seen better, but he found that it always made his students more aroused if he said that. After all, they were still young and inexperienced, all the more reason that he preferred them to adults like himself, who already knew the ways of the world.
Ivan leaned in and kissed the head of Matthew's manhood before running his tongue up and down the length. Matthew's gasps and moans made him harder, but he knew he couldn't take the younger's virginity so soon. He needed to gain Matthew's trust first, to make him want the older, make him addicted to him. He teased the blonde's cock, smirking at the wanton murmurs he produced.
"S-sir…" Matthew gasped, "D-don't t-tease me…" Ivan giggled. "What was that? Call me by my name Mattie." Matthew's breath hitched as Ivan took the head into his mouth, his hands restricting him so that he couldn't thrust into the teacher. "I-Ivan! Make me cum!" He moaned, clasping his hands to his mouth as Ivan suddenly took his whole length into his mouth, taking his hands away allowing Matthew to thrust into him. Ivan didn't want his pet to cover his mouth up; he wanted to hear him, but he knew he had to pleasure the younger as much as he could so that he was come back for more.
It wasn't long before Matthew was screaming his teacher's name into his hands, cumming into the Russian's mouth who expertly swallowed it all. The younger slid shakily into Ivan's waiting arms and lay there for a moment before he was kissed, shuddering slightly as he tasted himself.
"I-I need to go." He squeaked, quickly putting his clothes on and running out of the room. Ivan waited until he couldn't hear any footsteps before locking the door and moving to the back of the room, opening the closet and removing a tied up, glaring Gilbert, who had one thought in his mind; he could not wait to pound Matthew's face in the next day.