#blue twink

Aoba Seragaki knew why he got this well-paying job just as he got out of college. He knew that if Koujaku hadn't been his childhood friend and vice principal of Midorijima High School, he'd be out of a job and living off of his grandmother still. Needless to say, he was thankful and highly appreciative of the opportunity he'd been given.

The day he was set to start his new job as MHS' first year English teacher was a busy one that started with a tour from Koujaku himself.

Hallway A was mainly the more official stuff. The office, the nurse's office, and the teacher's lounge were the primary rooms used for hallway A, he came to realize as Koujaku walked ahead of him, leaving the newly graduated Aoba tuttling behind him with a box of his own belongings in hand.

"And this is Hallway B," Koujaku explained, stepping under the high ceilinged arch that displayed a large, blue 'B'. "It holds the cafeteria, gym, and music and theater rooms. The theater teacher is a very attractive woma-" "Koujaku, as lovely as I'm sure your newest conquest is, this box is getting pretty heavy." Aoba says, motioning with the cardboard in his hands.

Koujaku offers a hearty laugh and nods. "Of course, Aoba!" God, why does he always sound so damn cheerful about everything? Finally, coming into hallway C, the shorter of the two is shown to his classroom, and finds himself overwhelmed by the sense of pride he feels from the simple whitewashed walls, the linoleum floors, and empty desks. Anyone else would have looked at the room and internally complained about it's simplicity, the screaming blandness that echoed back to them from each of the four walls. Aoba Seragaki, however, was nearly moved to tears at the thought that he finally finished college and now had his very own class room, where his very own students would sit and listen to his very own words. He was a teacher.

"And Clear, the music teacher, is a pretty weird guy, too. Actually, you and I are probably the most normal staff here." Koujaku concluded, unaware of the feelings swelling in Aoba's chest. "Hm? Oh! Right, I figured so after meeting Yoshie." He replied with a dismissive shrug. Yoshie was a very nice woman who worked as a secretary in the office, but she talked a lot, and didn't seem to pick up on the subtle hints that Aoba didn't want to speak to her. Definitely someone that Aoba would try to avoid in the future, if at all possible. To his understanding, he and Koujaku were the only one the other had here.

"So, you've told me about the staff and the atmosphere, but what about the kids I'll be teaching?" Aoba asked, now beginning to pull trinkets and picture frames from the cardboard box, only to place them on the desk in an arrangement he liked.

Koujaku's face stiffened slightly as if he had bad news, and Aoba was filled with a slight sense of dread. "Well," the brunette began. "Mostly, they're good kids. But there is one that you might want to... uh... keep an eye on." "What do you mean?" "I mean that he's a complete heathen. He doesn't listen, he acts like a child, very antisocial, and never follows any rules given to him." Koujaku exclaims as if he's been holding back this micro-rant for ages. Sadly enough, he really has been.

"Uh, so... what do I do about him?" "Id suggest simply ignoring him, maybe." "Right. And who is this kid?" Aoba asked incredulously, only to be met with Koujaku's face stiffening again. "Oh, you'll know the little shit when you see him."

Koujaku was right about that. When the kids began to flood the room, taking a seat in either a random desk, or one close to their friends, Aoba quickly glanced over each face in an attempt to pick out the bad apple Koujaku told him so much about, but none really seemed to strike him as bad kids. Maybe Koujaku was imagining this kid, maybe it was a lie he told Aoba in order to keep him on his toes. Or maybe, even, Aoba was just overthinking again as he had a tenancy to do?

Just as the bell rang, however, for his seventh period class, primarily made up of seniors, a student who looked just slightly older than his peers walked through the door. "Excuse me, but you can't wear hats indoors." Aoba explained in a gentle and airy tone, only to earn a scoff from the student in a pallet of bright green and dark blue with metallic silver peppered all over his face. Lips, eyebrow, the bridge of his nose. "The hat goes and so do I." He challenged, sitting down without, Aoba assumed, giving his teacher a second thought.

'This has to be the kid.' Aoba thought, sifting through the many papers on his desk, leafing through mindless words and pencil doodles of teenagers who generally didn't care about the things he said. Opting to take Koujaku's advice, he ignored the lad in the last to left row, nearly hidden away in the corner of the room.

"So," Aoba said, standing straight and giving everyone a kind smile. "I'm Mr. Seregaki and I'll be your English teacher this year. I know its cliché as hell, but I'll never learn your names if no one tells me a-" "Shouldn't you know our names anyway? It's your job to know, right?" The student in green mused. Aoba looked to him and found his lips pulled into a smirk, the little shit. "No, it's my job to teach you the difference between helping your uncle jack off a horse, and helping your Uncle Jack off a horse." This statement earned a short lived round of laughter from everyone else. Once the chuckling faded away, he continued. "I feel as though it'd be easier to do so if I learned everyone's names early on. Let's start with you." He said, rapping his knuckles lightly on a girls' desk in the front row.

After every other student gave a short bio (my name is blank, I'm from blank and I like blank), it came to the boy in a hat. "My name is Noiz, I'm from Stuttgart, Germany and I fucking love rabbits." "Language." Aoba scolded before nodding and actually going into the lesson as if he wasn't instantly intrigued by the kid called Noiz. He didn't have a German accent. Noiz couldn't actually be his name. The rabbit thing, Aoba didn't actually doubt. Maybe he was a liar. Maybe he had some depth to him that Aoba wanted to uncover.

Maybe.

Halfway through the lesson, without Noiz giving too many issues, a knock sounded from the classroom door and then Koujaku entered. What was he here for? "Yo, Aoba!" He said in a happy boom. "Hey." The other replied, arching a brow as if to ask what he was doing here in the first place. Y'know. Because that's exactly what Aoba was trying to convey. "I just wanted to check on you! First day of school and all. It can be tou-" "What are you, his mother?" A round of laughter. Aoba's cheeks grew red from a sense of embarrassment. Koujaku was a mother hen type when it came to him. But before he could tell Noiz to quiet down, Koujaku was beside his desk, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him up and out the door, much to Aoba's shock.

"Uh, Kouja-" "You little shit, we will NOT be having the same issues as the last three years!" Aoba heard him growl, ignoring his friend just before the door shut. Well shit. Aoba didn't know how to react, and the other students began to whisper amongst themselves while he took a moment to let himself stare at the closed door, racing heartbeat and wide eyes.

In an attempt to catch their attention again, "Well... since that's over, the first book of the semester is Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov." Just after he said it, he cleared his throat from the small adrenaline quiver it adopted. He began passing out copies of the book, slipping them onto students' desks as he slowly explained what it was about on the surface, the impact it had on society, what it was meant to be when Nabokov wrote it, what it really turned out to be. Holding one copy behind his back, Aoba dismissed class early.

The end of that class marked the end of the day, and Aoba quickly gathered his things before heading out the door to the office. "Koujaku," he started, entering his office without knocking, half out of impatience, half out of wanting to avoid Yoshie at all costs.

Before he could ask what the hell the classroom stint was about, he noticed Noiz in the seat in front of Koujaku's desk. "Hello, Aoba." He greeted with a smirk, turning to face him. "Isn't that just the cutest name?" "Hey, shut up." Koujaku hissed, glaring daggers at him before sending a smile to Aoba. "Hey, Ao- er... Mr. Seregaki. What brings you here? Don't worry, this pest was just leaving."

Raising an eyebrow, Aoba replied with "I'll tell you about it in private. Noiz, your assignment is to read the first three chapters of this book before tomorrow."

"Lolita?" He mused, taking the book from Aoba's fingers. "I've seen the '97 movie. You filthy old man." Standing, he adjusted his bag's shoulder strap and smirked at Aoba suggestively. "Are you like Humbert, Mr. Seregaki? I bet you'd like to-" "Enough! Out of my office." Koujaku interrupted before Noiz could finish. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and was out of the room before Aoba had time to catch his breath.

"I know you didn't come all the way down here just to give him a book. What's really up?" "Are we even allowed to just snatch children up by their collars and drag them away?" Aoba demanded. What if he got in trouble for allowing it to happen? It was his classroom, after all.

Koujaku sat back down at his desk and chuckled. "First of all, he's not a child. He's a fucking demon. Second of all, he's over eighteen. Technically, as long as no one's throwing any punches, there's no wrongdoing." "So... you just push him around, then?" Something about it didn't sound right to Aoba.

"No, only when he deserves it. He treats the world as though they're nothing but scum on the bottom of his shoe, he needs to learn that it isn't okay to do so." "You know, for a kid you urged me so strongly to ignore, you sure as hell pay a lot of attention to him." Aoba joked, sitting where Noiz had earlier been.

"Mmh. He's a little shit. Thorn in my side since he came over from Salzburg-" "Stuttgart." "Right." Koujaku sighed softly. "The point is, I tried being civil with him for two years. I was kind. The way I am with you, even." "Overbearing?" Aoba chimed, smiling fondly. Koujaku chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I was thinking nurturing, but take it however you want, kiddo."

"Hippo." He quickly retorted affectionately, sharing the laugh that filled the air between the two childhood friends who stumbled their way into adulthood together.

For Aoba, it was easy to question the situation between Noiz and Koujaku. As far back as he could remember, Koujaku's entire demeanor was to spread love and kindness to everyone he met. He never had an ill thing to say to anyone unless they deserved it. And even then, it usually took a lot to rile Koujaku up. He never acted violently unless he had to, he never said anything mean without having heavy reasoning. Hell, Koujaku's personality was closer to a hippie than anything else Aoba could put a name to. So why the hostility towards Noiz?

The next morning, Aoba slipped by the office, narrowly avoiding Yoshie and her everlasting conversation about nothing at all, cup of coffee in hand. God knew he'd need it. He situated himself in the seat beside the desk and crossed his legs, glancing at the clock. He still had a good hour or so before his first class started. He needed the time to himself to think. What was he supposed to do here?

Did he continue to do as Koujaku instructed, ignore Noiz to the best of his abilities, or did he do the authority figure thing, take him aside and make sure he was alright? He stewed this over in silence until fourth period, when he came to the conclusion that he'd give it a few weeks. If in that time he noticed anything, or anything worsened, he'd speak to Noiz privately and try to be a positive role model.

By the time seventh period rolled around, Aoba was ready to see what kind of shenanigans Noiz might bring along today, and hoped that Koujaku wouldn't interrupt his class to drag the blonde out by his ear or something. The last thing he needed was yet another grand overreaction like the one previously.

However, halfway through class there was no sign of Noiz at all. Aoba marked him absent early on and started the discussion on Lolita.

"I thought this story was about Lolita, why are we reading about Annabel?" A girl asked, frowning. Aoba made a small "tsk" sound, clicking his tongue, and sighed. "To quote the book, 'there might have been no Lolita at all, had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child.' It's explaining and offering insight, but also-" he was interrupted by the door opening and Noiz entering.

"You're late." "And you're stating the obvious, don't you think?"

Aoba frowned at that and crossed his arms. "Did you at least read the homework?" "Nope." With another sigh, he nodded and sat at his desk. Just ignore him. Listen to Koujaku and ignore the little brat. This became Aoba's silent mantra as he continued discussing the book, and when the bell rang, the teacher told everyone that the homework was to read the next three chapters. Noiz was the last one out, and he paused at Aoba's desk as he was organizing a few loose leaf papers in front of him. "Yes?" He mused, arching a brow. "All at once, do you think that's even possible?" "Excuse me?"

It was Noiz's turn to click his tongue. "Lolita, chapter three. 'All at once, we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other.' Do you believe it's even possible to love someone 'all at once'?"

Aoba blinked stupidly and stared at Noiz. "I... think that he was a hormonal teenager. Of course he thought something cliche like that." Hadn't Noiz earlier said he didn't read the book? "So you're saying," Noiz began, crossing his arms. "That Humbert ruined Lo's life because of a stupid teenage crush." "I'm saying that he mistook lust for love, as teenagers often do. Or so I believe. He never got to act out that lust with Annabel, and since he didn't see the difference between said lust and love, he believed that he was loving Lolita properly when he assulted her, if that makes sense. I thought you didn't read the homework." He quipped, watching Noiz. The blonde clicked his tongue again and left the room without another word.

Every day for weeks, this went on. Noiz would say he wasn't reading the book and then stay behind to discuss it with Aoba, and try as he.might, he couldn't understand why. Was he trying to irritate him? Was he just being difficult for shits and giggles? This issue is one that kept Aoba up at night on occasion, tossing around in his bed as he stared out the veranda's glass door to the starless, light polluted sky. He knew that he allowed Noiz to consume far too much of his thoughts, but he soon found that he couldn't help it. This kid interested the young teacher.

A few weeks later, when the book was finished, a report was assigned to the class. Noiz's failed drastically. If someone were to ask Aoba the moment he knew Noiz was up to something, it would be when the end of every class period was spent with an in depth conversation about Lolita, and the book report was written about Elvis. Aoba's face fell as he read the line "Everyone knew that Elvis sold his soul for hip gyration skills (source; Wikipedia.)" What was with this kid?! Why didn't he just do what was asked of him?

"Noiz, can I see you after class?" "Don't you always?" Touche. Most of the class was clearing out after the bell and Noiz stayed behind, finding a seat in the front row. As he sat down, he aet his bag on the ground carelessly and sent a bored look to his teacher. "So," Aoba spoke first. "Your book report was interesting." "Oh? What was the final grade?" "I think you already know." He sighed, leaning back in his seat behind the desk.

While waiting for Noiz to respond, he began to chew on the end of a pen. However, his confidence drained as he realized Noiz was now giving him an amused expression. "Was it an A+?" "No. You failed. It was an F." "Oh darn. What a travesty."

Aoba sighed and frowned slightly at his junior. "Why did you purposely fail?" "I am offended you would think so, sir." Noiz didn't sound the least bit offended. "Bullshit." "No, really. Maybe you should tutor me."

And that's how Aoba was roped into tutoring the nineteen year old everyday until 4:30 each afternoon despite Koujaku's protests. Two months had passed and it was painfully obvious that he knew what Aoba was teaching him, and when Aoba started to lose even more sleep, he became even more unsettled as he wondered why he was bullshitting so much.

In fact, it was made painfully obvious that Noiz was incredibly intelligent, perhaps smarter than the rest of the class. Yet, here he was, sitting beside Aoba's desk and leaning on his elbow, against his teacher's chair. "I still don't understand." "I'm sure you don't." Aoba sighed, setting the pen in his hand down on his desk. "Was that supposed to be facetious?" "Oh gee, how'd you guess?" "Tch." He didn't give his teacher an answer. Instead, he did something that sent a shock through his elder.

Climbing into Aoba's lap, Noiz raised an eyebrow. "Why don't I try to teach you something, hm?" He mused, snaking his arms around his teacher's shoulders. "N- Noiz, this-" "Shut up. I've caught you looking at my ass numerous times."

Aoba couldn't even deny that fact. It would be a lie. But that was only looking, he'd never touch a student. Especially not one that caused so many issues. "Come on, Mr. Seragaki," Noiz hummed, pressing the heel of his palm against Aoba's inner thigh. "You're no fun." "Noiz, I'm your tea- ah!" He began to protest, but found himself without words when Noiz began to palm at his crotch slowly, kneading up and down with just enough force to cause friction. "All work and no play makes Aoba a dull boy, don't you agree?" He mused with a smirk.

Aoba tried correcting the teen, telling him to be formal, only to be shut down with a response of "Oh, no. You're going to call me sir by the end of this." And Aoba really didn't know how to feel about that. Noiz continued to speak, even as his hand slid down the front of Aoba's boxers, pumping his teacher's half hard member. "You know, I've gotta admit, I've had my eye on you for a while, /sir/." He hissed into Aoba's ear, running his slender fingers along his shaft as the elder moaned helplessly.

"Tell me, are you like Humbert? Do you like to fuck people younger than you? Or maybe," he paused to press his fingers against Aoba's opening, earning a girlish moan from beneath him as Aoba squirmed slightly. "Maybe you like to /be/ fucked by people younger than you. God, that's what it looks like." He chuckled, slowly twisting his fingers inside of the other, who gripped onto his shoulder with a moan.

If Noiz was honest, the sight of Aoba, lust filled eyes watching his every move and chest rising and falling with every heavy breath, was arousing as hell. He'd never wanted anyone so badly before and the sounds that were coming from Aoba's throat weren't helping the case at all. And jesus christ, the noises Aoba made when Noiz curled his fingers just right...

Aoba shivered and arched so that his student's fingers went deeper, and just as they hit his prostate, Aoba let out a pleasured whimper, pulling Noiz closer. "J- just like that." He breathed, and when Noiz gave a small chuckle, barely audible, he made another small sound from his throat.

"No." Noiz replied, slowly pulling his fingers out of Aoba. Confused, Aoba gave him a small pout and sighed from the lack of pressure. "But I thought-" "Bend over your desk." The blonde commanded as he climbed off of his lap.

Aoba almost protested, almost told him that as a professional, he wouldn't allow Noiz to continue these shenanigans. Of course, he did no such thing, and found himself bent over the ugly plastic painted to look like wood, with his ass in the air and his cheek pressed to the table.

Noiz took a second to look at the other's body, the way his legs spread apart and his nails desperately dug into the desk. Everything about this man was beautiful and he wanted to drink it all in. "Now, I want you to beg." "What?!" "You heard me." Noiz replied. Behind him, Aoba could hear his belt being unbuckled and then hitting the floor. "P- please?" He hurried. He'd never had to beg before. Hearing Noiz chuckle quietly in that moment was humiliating enough, but he was completely mortified to hear "Aoba, I know you can do better than that. Beg like a good little whore."

Aoba whimpered and shut his eyes before answering with "Noiz, please fuck me. Ruin me if you want I don't care, just fuck me and make me cum, I'll do anything," he paused, trying to fight off embarrassment, but somehow knew that it was exactly what Noiz was looking for when his pants were impatiently pulled down with his boxers.

Slowly, he felt the other's cock entering him, accompanied by the foreign feeling of metal. It felt awkward, to say the least, but awkwardness be damned when he felt the studs pressed against his insides. He hadn't realized how loud the moans pulling from his throat were until Noiz kissed just below his ear, mumbling. "Quiet down. Don't need everyone hearing you."

He had a point. Aoba bit his lips together to silence himself and glanced over his shoulder at Noiz, who began to move slowly, gripping onto Aoba's hips tightly, digging his nails into the skin beneath his fingertips.

Aoba fought to stay still, to keep himself quiet, but each thrust from Noiz sent a shock up Aoba's spine and down his legs. His own hips began to move against Noiz's. At first, it was clumsy and sloppy, both of them trying to make it good for themselves and the other all at once.

Still, Aoba made small noises through his nose as Noize continued to thrust in and out of him, just hardly missing his prostate each time. Eventually, the pair fell into a steady rhythm, leaving Aoba a panting mess, coming undone beneath Noiz's movements.

Each thrust left Aoba wanting more of Noiz, more of the small groans escaping his lips, more of the now heated metal massaging his insides, more of the scratches left behind on his waist. More of Noiz. He wanted more of everything, and so he begged again. "Harder. Fuck, Noiz, please." He panted, arching his back inwards until the edge of the desk dug into his stomach.

He heard that familiar breathless chuckle and felt himself being pulled back slightly, followed by Noiz slamming into him and hitting the one spot he'd been missing the entire time. "A- ah!"

The desk began to creak beneath the weight of the thrusts, and for the slightest moment Aoba was afraid it might collapse, but the thought was soon driven away when Noiz hit his prostate again, turning Aoba into a gasping, moaning mess once more.

Noiz's hips picked up speed, slamming into Aoba's sweet spot everytime. Aoba squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold his breath, only to fail miserably as his moans became louder and louder, peppered with Noiz's name and profanities, especially when they were accompanied by shivers rolling down his spine as Noiz kissed and bit at the nape of his neck.

He felt his stomach start to wind up, and his nerves stand on end. He was close. He was building himself up, coming closer and closer to his own breaking point. He tried to tell Noiz but all that left his mouth were pathetic whines and moans that he couldn't control at all as he began to come apart beneath Noiz.

Much to his relief, he felt the hot breath of a moan against his neck, followed by "You're close. Touch yourself." Aoba quickly hurried to obey Noiz's command, wrapping his own fingers around his cock and pumping himself, much like Noiz had done earlier.

Surprise hit Aoba when he heard Noiz choke on a moan, then felt a certain warmth inside of himself. Noiz had been so quiet, Aoba really thought he'd cum first, yet it took a few more thrusts after Noiz came before he did.

When he did, though, he saw stars, his vision went white and the only intelligible words he could make out were moans and mumbles of Noiz's name.

As he slowly pulled out, Aoba came down from his high and sloppily used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the mess he'd made on his desk. "Holy shit..." he breathed, slumping against the desk for a moment before he stood with shaky knees.

"That good?" "What?" "Was it that good?" Noiz urged, pulling his pants back up from around his ankles. Aoba wiggled his own pants back up and tilted his head. "What do you mean?" "I mean, was my dick so bomb that you could only say 'holy shit'?"