7

                                    

                                          
The mattress was soft, but cold beneath Taehyung's now bare legs. His chest heaves up and down, Breathe slow, as he watches his teacher stand near the drawing. 
"Hm." Mr. Jeon hums for the nth time. "Did you use a butter-paper like instructed in class?"
"I d-did?"
"You're lying, Taehyung." The sound of heavy boots hitting the wooden floor resounds around the room. And as it stops, so does Taehyung's heart when he feels the bed dip. 
"I don't like lies, Taehyung. I see your fingerprints on the paper." Something cold grazes his leg, but Taehyung didn't require to lift his eyes to check it was Mr. Jeon. His hand glides up and down, three exact times, before he stops right near his inner thighs. 
"The truth." He grips on it. "Say it."
"I-I didn't." Taehyung cries. 
"Minus one." Mr. Jeon stands back up. He walked near the bedpost after that, leaning to it and Taehyung could feel himself be judged. 
"What part did you start with first."
"H-hair?"
"Am I that bad of a teacher?" He hears his teacher chuckle, as he picks up the glass Taehyung drank from. With his peripheral vision, he catches him pulling two ice cubes out. And before he could question it, Mr. Jeon was already hovering at him, just a little lower. 
"You never start with the hair, Taehyung." He puts one ice cube on Taehyung's legs, causing him to hiss. From there, he drives it up. Up and up, until it reaches his boxers. 
"Always start with the face.you start with the underlying structure, and then what's on it." Taehyung squeals, when the cold reaches his stomach. His sweater is travelled up, and cold wetness drenches his stomach until the heat of his body melts the ice fast. 
"Now, the next question." This time, Mr. Jeon doesn't leave the breathless boy alone. Instead, he spreads his thighs, holding his own body upright with his knees trapping Taehyung's helpless soul in between. 
"How many figures did you stare at while drawing me."
"O-one."
"And who's was it?"
"Oliver's..."
"Oh!" The teacher says, not satisfied a bit. "You even know his name now?" This time, his hands replaces the ice cube as he slips it underneath Taehyung's sweater. He glides them up, massaging Taehyung's stomach, to his chest. 
"I told you students cannot create any relations with the Muse," Taehyung shivers when something cold touches his left nipple. "Did I not?" A soft cry leaves his lips when Jungkook pinches it, pulling it, pressing on it, just plainly toying with it. 
"Y-you did, s-sir~" Embarrased, Taehyung raises his hand and covers his face with the back of it. "H-he approached me f-first. I suppose, he fancied m-me."
It was unusual, really unusual for Taehyung to see a pressed look on his teacher's face. So when he finally does, he doesn't get time to react when his sweater is lifted up completely. He stares, wide eyes, as he teacher dives down. His hands move to Taehyung's hips, holding his body in place as he latches his mouth on his right nipple. 
"N-no w-ait ah~" He twitches, hands automatically going into the teacher's hair as he combs through them while making sure to not grab it harshly. "S-sir—"
"Call me Jungkook."