A Revolution On Canvas (Frerard)

25: Megan's Dream Man - Medward Cliffen

The thing is that Frank hadn't known.

But the thing also was that it didn't fucking matter.

Frank's intentions were indeed irrelevant in the scheme of things.

It didn't matter whether Frank had intended to find Mr Stump, or fling himself into hell as he made his way into the music department.

And the thing that ensured that nothing else mattered was the rather brutal and unavoidable reality of the consequences of that one simple action; what had brought him here no longer mattered, as every part of his brain was suddenly focused upon what the fuck he was supposed to do yet.

Because the door had been open, slightly, marginally, barely, but he had that in his defense.

His defense? He hadn't done anything wrong - he wasn't the one at fault, he was the one standing awkwardly at the door, watching.

Because they hadn't noticed yet.

They, being Ryan and Brendon.

Ryan Ross and Mr Urie: far too caught up in making out with each other to not Frank stood at the door wide eyed and unsure what the ever-loving fuck to do in his current situation.

Because maybe he should have just walked away, but he found his feet somewhat bolted to the floor, which was really anything but fair and he indeed began to suspect if the universe wanted him to witness this for some odd reason, or wanted something to come of it at least.

However, Frank didn't really have long enough to get particularly philosophical about things, because Brendon suddenly moved a little, as his eyes locked with Frank, and his face went as white as Donald Trump's supporters - which was truly quite horrific, as you might be able to imagine.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, pulling away from Ryan, who hadn't quite caught onto what had happened, and stared at Brendon with confusion until he managed to turn around and catch sight of Frank at the door, who was still yet to do anything besides stare.

Because he'd been suspecting it, but he hadn't quite fully believed it, and he really hadn't expected to witness it, and for Ryan and Brendon to know he had - to be in an awkward situation, to be in a situation Gerard would know exactly what to do in- fuck, Gerard would love to be in Frank's situation, but he wasn't.

"It's not what it looks like..." Brendon began, breaking the silence as he began to blush: his face changing from Republican white to bright red.

"How the fuck is it-" Ryan exclaimed before he stopped himself, only then realising that he was practically getting himself into more trouble.

Frank raised his eyebrows, trying to think like Gerard, who certainly suited this situation better, as he looked between the two of them. "I saw this coming. I mean, you would have expelled anyone else."

Brendon swallowed hard, audibly hard. "I... I... that's debatable."

"Then debate it." Frank narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two of them. "Stop taking advantage of a student and debate your morals. Apologise instead of feeling sorry for yourself."

"Ryan's consenting-" Brendon began, looking down.

"And seventeen. And your student. Illegal." And Frank was beginning to wonder if there was a certain fun to be had in yelling at Mr Urie, and actually have him listen to you.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's not really an 'I'm sorry' situation, is it? It's utterly inappropriate and disgusting- hell, I could report this to the police - get you fired, sued, and in court. I could do that." Frank continued, knowing of course, that he wouldn't, because if someone other than Brendon was in charge of this school then he might actually have to do his job properly and he was absolutely not prepared to do that.