You're a Snarky Little Shit (Frerard, Petekey)

Edgar Allan No-e

Gerard stood at the door, very hesitate to walk into class. His eyes scanned the room, searching for one specific face. He soon saw that face in the middle of the classroom, laughing it up with that girl who hangs out with Lindsey. But what was her name again? Julia? Jamie? Janet? No, who in the fuck is named any of those three names anyway? Certainly not anybody who writes. Gerard thought back to his conversation with Melanie as he walked over to Frank, sitting in the seat on the other side of him. Frank and the girl sitting next to him didn't seem to notice Gerard, as they continued on with their conversation.

"I'm telling you, Jamia, there is no way I could kill a spider. I'd rather get trampled by a thousand kids than touch a spider!" Frank said, throwing his hands in the air. Gerard made a mental note that Frank's friend was named Jamia.

"But, let's be real; if you were trapped in a room, and the only way out was to give yourself a buzz cut OR kill a spider, you'd really shave your hair off?"

"Hand me the fucking razor." Jamia sighed.

"You are IMPOSSIBLE!" Jamia shouted, just now realizing that Gerard was there. Gerard gave a little wave.

"Why, hello there, sir," she said.

Frank looked up from picking at his pencil tip, turned, and was face-to-face with Gerard.

"H-hi..." Frank said, absentmindedly fixing his fringe.

"Hey. So, um, can I sit here?" Gerard said, looking down at his shoes, which seemed very interesting at this point. Frank nodded, and turned back to Jamia. Gerard sighed; he knew this attempt would be unsuccessful anyway. He grabbed his binder and trudged to the back of the class to sit in his usual seat. Gerard was stopped in the middle of the walk by Lindsey, who ended up sitting next to him.

Frank turned to where Gerard was but saw he was no longer there. He ran his hands through his hair, and cursed under his breath. He'd messed up, hadn't he?

~

"And that, class, is what we're going to learn about Edgar Allan Poe this quarter," Mrs. Foxes said, closing her Power Point. Mikey looked at Pete and saw a look of boredom in his eyes.

"We will be reading over stories such as The Raven, The Tell-Tale Heart, and Murders in the Rue Morgue," continued the teacher, droning on as if she didn't know most of her students were already half-asleep. Mrs. Foxes continued to talk, not noticing that nobody was paying any attention to her. 

"Okay, so, do you guys have any questions?"

A lone hand shot up. Mikey looked over, seeing that it was, of course, Pete who had raised his hand. 

"Um, I have a question. Why are we learning about this guy? I mean, he's dead, and all he did was write stories that were really dark and mysterious. So, Edgar Allan Poe? More like Edgar Allan No-e, am I right?"

The class erupted in laughter, perhaps Mikey laughing the hardest of them all. Pete stood above them, like a king; a fucking emo pun king. 

"That is enough! You've been here what, a month or two? Gosh, Pete..." Mrs. Foxes said, trailing off slightly. Pete shrugged, but sat back down, smiling even harder at the fact that Mikey was wiping tears out of his eyes from laughing so hard.

~

"Thanks," said Mikey after school that day. Him and Pete were laying underneath Pete's tree, their heads touching and Mikey's hand was only inches away from Pete's. Mikey lazily felt the soft grass underneath him, and looked through the branches of the tree, focusing on a small airplane zooming by.

"Thanks for what? Telling an amazing pun? Well, good news; there's a lot more where that came from," Pete said, brushing his fingers against Mikey's palm.

"Well, yes, but that's not what I mean. I meant, thanks for moving  here. I mean, before you came into my life, I was a nervous wreck; jumping at every little thing, worrying about anything and everything, and I barely ever smiled. Now you show up, and you just flip my life upside down." Pete was still gingerly touching Mikey's palm when Mikey grinned and grabbed Pete's hand.

"You-you're sure you want to? I mean, there were people at my old school that were so fucking annoying if I even accidentally touched their arm? 'OH MY GOD. NO HOMO. NO FUCKING HOMO, MAN. DON'T TOUCH ME; THAT'S GAY!!!' Like, seriously?!" Pete said, swiping at the air with his free hand for emphasis.

"Yeah, there are some bitchy people like that here as well. What's the big deal though? Like, same-sex marriage is legal now, thank God, and people all around the world like people of the same sex, and it's always going to be there, and there's nothing wrong with that, and I think everybody needs to grow the fuck up and deal with it," said Mikey.

"Mikey, I think you killed me. That was so fucking great. All of my old friends were such homophobic assholes," Pete said, smiling.

"Well, with my brother being gay, he rants to me about all of this stuff, and it doesn't make sense why people are so against it. They're like, 'Oh, the Bible says it's wrong!' It also says you can't cut your hair or trim your beard, but I guess they're just cherry-picking the verses they want."

"I think it's my turn to thank you," Pete said, glancing down at their hands.

"But seriously, no fucking homo, ok?" Mikey asked in a deep voice.

"You're lucky you're kidding, otherwise you'd be walking around with a hand mark on your cheek for a week." Mikey smiled yet again.

"Mikey, you wouldn't...by any chance..." Pete said trailing off.

"What? Oh, like, am I not straight? Well, I think I am, but I honestly have no clue," Mikey said, tracing a circle on Pete's hand absentmindedly, which sent shivers down Pete's spine.

"Oh, okay. I was just wondering, because..."

"Because why?" Pete sighed.

"Because...you're so passionate about all of this stuff, so I was just curious," Pete said, finally.

"Oh."

Hey guys kind of freaking out because tabinof is out today in the uk but sadly I am an american who can't get it until the 13 I cri

Wow sorry this took forever mmkay 

vote/comment if you want lmao idc

~tato