Titolo: contrast
Fandom: Free!
Personaggi: Sousuke/Nagisa
Genere: erotico? idk
Avvertimenti: la roba peggio della mia vita sia moralmente che proprio come testo cioè boh faccio schifo; in inglese; AU; age difference
Parole: 716
Note: madonna che schifo di fic, veramente vi prego non leggete, è solo per fillare il Come Ti Trombo il Prof che meriterebbe molto di meglio ma c'avevo l'ansia improvvisa di prendermi tutto il tempo necessario per fillare il BIBITA e quindi ho fillato 2 challenge oggi e quindi una m'è venuta benino e questa da schifo. Amen. Mi serve anche fare almeno 4k questo mese perché sì e quindi niente non leggete pls grazie.

"Hazuki, I didn't expect that."
The blond boy stands alone near the empty class' window, looking outside as if he was completely disinterested, with the pale sun reflecting on his light skin and the mess of hair which cannot be tamed around his head seems to form a halo around his head. Which cannot possibly be, because the previous night this young university student was stripping sensually and slowly at a dark and smoky bar filled with weirdos and people itching for some teasing - a bit too slowly for most of the audience, but not for him, the teacher, merely eight or nine years older, a prodigy as they call them. He stared at the entire routine, while his Literature student showed his body off under the sound waves of luscious, dark electro-pop, moved his hips as if he was being possessed by sin itself, and kept half of the room's eyes locked on him to get a glimpse of his skin, and then howled when they did.
Sousuke had been simply petrified the entire time, with his glass of really strong alcohol tight in his hands. Why had his totally adult and serious colleagues dragged him there, where one of his students was... stripping in front of him, collecting money and looking absolutely wrong, with his round cherub face displaying so much ruin and life at the same time it almost made him write an essay in his head about the interconnections of beauty and ugliness, of sin and holiness, of disgust and pleasure? And it was all there, in all of its disturbing glory, in the small body of a man almost a decade younger than him.
He had been absolutely fascinated. And Nagisa had noticed him only when the two had been able to exchange one glance at the end of the night, when neon lights and cigarettes' smoke were most of the life available in that place. Since, well, everyone else was already braindead in a way.

"I was surprised too, Yamazaki-sensei!" Nagisa replies, with a cheerful, innocent and amused smile. It is almost like he leads a double life. Thinking again, that is probably how it is. It is difficult to conciliate the flashes of pale skin in the dim light and smoke, a vaguely creepy but pleasant music in the background, with the positive, sunny young man standing in front of him. "I thought I'd seen wrong but no, it was definitely you! How did I do?" He asks, with a wide grin.
"You... uhm. You were decent at dancing," Sousuke replies, clearing his throat while shuffling through his papers.
It becomes clearly apparent that Nagisa stayed behind for a specific reason after the rest of the class left for lunch, though, because a few seconds later he appears right in front of university teacher Yamazaki, wearing the most mischievous smirk, something he had showed off merely hours ago.
"Decent?"
"Well, you clearly can move," Sousuke corrects himself, a bit bothered by the sudden lack of personal space.
"I can clearly do a lot of things, sir," Nagisa retorts both submissively and manipulatively, which seems to both attract and slightly weird out the teacher.

Just like magenta eyes dance in the dim light between Sousuke's legs, in an empty little room of the university, both sweet and deadly, both saint-like and devilish. Just like his red mouth popping wet and sticky sounds in the little available air, warm and welcoming but harsh as well around the pulsing length of the teacher's cock, slightly red for all the stimuli and the teeth grazing softly on all that sensitive skin. His slender fingers lose themselves through curls and curls of wild blond hair, soft like clouds. Boys who just came out of puberty should not feel so unsettling and magnetic. Maybe it's just this particular one.
"Yamazaki-sensei tastes good," Nagisa croons, breathing briefly on the warm, wet flesh under his mouth. He sounds fake. Like plastic, but maybe it's all just a game to him. He does strike the adult as a child after all. That is particularly disturbing as well.
Sousuke shoves him down again, to suck on his length, and throwing his head back against a dirty, dusty window. Hoping that nobody will enter here looking for a broom.