Guitar Lessons
Written off a prompt by @not-aph-england Person A is trying to learn a new instrument but finds it really hard to focus when their teacher is damn, so hot.
Summary: When Alfred signs up for guitar lessons he gets much more than he bargained for.
Alfred F. Jones had always loved music. He played in his high school band, he tapped out beats on his desk or any table really, as a kid he played some killer air guitar too. After saving up he’d bought himself an acoustic guitar and found someone who’d give him lessons once a week. They were set for Friday afternoons after his college classes at 4pm until 5 and were held at the local music store.
That first Friday he showed up at the store with his guitar in its case on his back and asked where the lessons were. He was directed to the back of the store, a small room off the main show floor. When Alfred walked into the room he was shocked in more ways than one.
When he’d signed up Alfred had no idea that they’d be just one on one.
He also had no idea his teacher would be such a huge distraction. Sitting in that room on one of the tables was to be perfectly honest one of, no the hottest guy Alfred had ever lay his eyes on. He wasn’t expecting someone so young to be teaching the class. At first, he couldn’t do much but stand there in awe.
His teacher couldn’t be more than 20 (he was actually 23), he had messy blond hair that despite the uneven cut managed to look insanely attractive. The guy was dressed like a rocker, a bit out of date but he managed to make it work. He had regular piercings in both ears, as well cuff on the right, a sex pistols tee-shirt and a worn denim vest that looked like it had sleeves that had been torn off. A studded belt around his waist, not that he needed it to hold up his black skinny jeans, torn at the knees. He had military style looking boots on his feet and a red electric guitar on his lap that he was so focused on tuning that he hadn’t even noticed Alfred had walked into the room.
Looking down at his own attire: red Converse sneakers that could use a good wash, plain jeans, a dark blue zip-up hoodie and a stupid white tee-shirt with the words ‘I knew you were treble when you walked in’ printed on it Alfred zipped up his hoodie to hide the shirt, suddenly feeling very underdressed.
“Um, hi?” When he spoke the other guy looked up and those green eyes seemed to look right through him. It all made Alfred feel incredibly self-conscious. “Y-you here for lessons too? Oh, duh, of course you aren’t. You already seem pretty good! Ah ha ha… So, I guess that means you’re my teacher. I sure wasn’t expecting someone like you! I-I mean, you’re a lot younger than I thought… Not that I’m doubting your skills! I’m sure you’re great at it all why else would you be teaching?”
Great job Alfred, why don’t you just bang your head against the wall, it wouldn’t make you seem like any more of an idiot than you already have. Alfred tried to smile through it all, feeling frozen in place under the teacher’s gaze which was obviously judging him thoroughly. He was 99.9% sure that he was sweating from being so nervous.
And yet despite how much of a complete fool Alfred had made of himself the teacher just smiled, “It’s quite alright lad, being nervous is perfectly normal. Don’t stress, just pull up a chair so we can get started. After all, we’ve only got an hour a week and there’s a lot for you to learn.”
Just when Alfred thought his teacher couldn’t get any more attractive he had to open his mouth. That accent, it was the opposite of what he expected so crisp and clear and he was so clearly English, this guy was meeting every single requirement he had for being the hottest guy on the planet in his eyes.
That hour was either going to go by insanely fast or torturously slow and Alfred didn’t know which would be worse. Learning the guitar was going to be harder than he thought.
