Mr. King brushed an imaginary piece of lint from the simple black dress pants that accentuated his lean figure, giving his famous cocky half smile when he caught one of the married female teachers looking his way. There was a hint of desire in her eyes, but more wistfulness; she knew she could look, but she couldn’t touch so long as she wanted to pretend she was faithful to her husband and not sleeping with students on field trips. She wasn’t the only one looking at him and sighing- any student with a pulse and healthy attraction to men stared and mooned over the attractive teacher with his long red hair controlled by a black ribbon, the curve of his mouth as sinful as the wicked glint in his pale green eyes.
Mr. King knew where their thoughts would go, when he stretched up his arms and the hem of his button-down rose just high enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of a toned midriff. Every move was calculated to whip up the hormones of the lusty teenagers he wasn’t paid enough to babysit. It was the only entertainment he would get for the day; he wouldn’t actually sleep with the students, and he’d already had his pick of the other teachers. There wasn’t anything for him to do until his night job that would satisfy his thirst for trouble.
The smile returned when he realized that wasn’t quite right. According to the staff list, there was a possible diversion; a young new teacher, fresh out of college which he’d graduated early, who was- by all accounts- eccentric but shy. He sounded exactly like the kind of man Mr. King would enjoy corrupting completely. The prospect of a new toy excited him, and he pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on, heading for the class that was reserved for the sophomore English teacher.
It was on the far side of the building, a good few minutes’ walk away from Mr. King’s drama class- which was held in the school’s auditorium. He hoped whatever he found would be worth being a few minutes late to his first class of the year.
The door to room 317 was open, so Mr. King walked through it without knocking, breezing into the room with his famous smile firmly in place. That smile wavered when he saw what awaited him. A smallish silver-haired student stood behind the teacher’s desk, tapping a pile of papers into neat order, humming a song under his breath. He looked up upon hearing Mr. King’s footsteps, blue-grey eyes focusing on the teacher for a moment before he returned to ordering the papers. Mr. King missed the beautiful color of his eyes, too busy being perplexed by the pair of silver ears atop the silverette’s head.
“What can I help you with?” The voice was soft, sweet, maybe even a little shy. Those eyes darted back up to Mr. King, and that time he took the chance to be awed by them.
Then he forced his attention back on task, reminding himself that- no matter how desperate he was for a bit of fun- he wouldn’t ever start a relationship with a student. The last thing he needed was to be sent to jail by a couple of overprotective parents. “Oh, nothing. I was just looking for Mister…”
“Saunders?” the silverette finished for him, laying the papers precisely in the corner of the desk and turning to face him, his arms behind his back and an eyebrow raised.
Mr. King smiled, relieved to be reminded of the new teacher’s name. “Yes. I wanted to welcome him to the school, but it appears I’ve missed him. Do you know where I can find him?”
The student laughed; compared to the quiet sound of his voice, it was rich and full, like windchimes. “You’re talking to him,” he said, the smile remaining to turn up his lips and the laugh still lighting his eyes even after it died in his throat.
“Er...” Mr. King dropped his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck, to hide the surprise and disbelief in his eyes.
Of all the things he could have expected from the young new teacher, he’d never imagined what was in front of him. He looked like a freshman, with a sweet face and soft voice, and those ridiculous cat ears perched on top of his head. Mr. King half expected to see a tail when the silverette turned around; luckily for him, the new teacher’s backside was free of a tail, though attractive in every way Mr. King could want.
Jerking his eyes away, Mr. King forced himself to sound contrite. “My apologies, Mr. Saunders.”
“Please, call me Ashe,” the silverette said as he wrote his name on the board, adding the odd ‘e’ at the end of his name.
“Ashe Saunders,” Mr. King tested his name, and his sharp eyes caught the way the silverette’s lips twitched up at the sound of it in the velvet dark voice that made students quiver in their seats. “You can call me Cormac, then.”
Ashe turned around, wiping the chalk dust from his hands. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Cormac. But you ought to be getting to your class now- first period is about to start… isn’t it?” Eyebrows furrowed, frowning, he turned to flip through the tidy stack of papers. He came up triumphant, school schedule in hand, confirming his suspicions; school started at eight, with the tardy bell ringing precisely five minutes after, and it was two minutes to eight.
“Mm, I suppose. I think I’d have far more fun here, though,” Cormac said, turning his dashing smile up a notch for the new teacher’s benefit.
But Ashe didn’t look the least bit affected; in fact, he looked rather bemused. “If you’d like to keep your job, I suggest you go do what you’re paid for, instead of staring at my ass every time I turn around,” he replied, smiling innocently.
Cormac’s mouth fell open, and he only managed to pick his jaw up off the floor when the first of the students began to drift in through the door, the good students who liked to sit in the front row. Ashe was all bright smiles and welcoming words, laughing when each of them was surprised that he was the teacher and not the aide as he handed out the syllabus. Watching him, noticing those silver-blue eyes didn’t once flick to him, Cormac began to smile; he had been hoping for a challenge, and he’d gotten it in young Mr. Saunders.
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