Mr Weekes (Brallon Fanfiction)

- It's Never Silent ✔️

I threw myself down next to him leaning my head against his shoulder looking at what he was doing, he was playing a shitty mobile game that I'm pretty sure I've got too. I can't really remember, I like to download things when I'm drunk, play them once and then just not bother to delete them.

Billie moved from his standing position and joined the fun, sitting on my other side pulling his legs up to his chest making a little ball-Billie. We sat like this until the bell went and we headed to our first classes, we all had something different and I had never bothered to learn either of their timetables so I wasn't sure what they had, but I also didn't care at all.

English isn't until my last lesson again so I end up laying with my head down on the desk in all my other classes, I'm pretty sure I fell asleep a few times by accident but I don't really care about any of my other classes.

Eventually, after what felt like five years of waiting, that is, it was my last period.

"Billie, I'm tired. My legs are gonna give out, I can feel them collapsing into nothingness beneath me" Gerard whined loud and high pitch as we walked to English, I was walking noticeably faster to this class then I was to my others.

I wonder why.

With a sigh Billie held out his arms which Gerard leaped in to with a grin, Billie carried him bridal style down the hall without even questioning it, just going along with it.

"Haha, gay!" Some kid in a year below us yelled, looking quite proud of himself for his great 'insult'.

"Yeah, no shit, cum dumpster!" Gerard yelled back making the kid shut up with a gobsmacked expression, a smirk appeared on Billies face.

Gerard hopped out of Billies arms and walked in to English normally as if Billie haven't just been his own personal taxi, Billie just shrugged being completely used to Gerard using him as a mode of transport.

Billie and Gerard walked in in front of me to go to their chairs and I walked quickly to the back, keeping my head down. Only once I was sat at my seat I looked up to see Mr Weekes looking back at me, he seemed to be staring at me as when I looked up at him too he quickly turned to the computer blushing. He was even cuter when he blushed.

As he typed a few strands of his hair fell into his eyeliner and he ran a hand through his hair pulling it a bit before standing up beginning to speak to the class, who have all arrived now.

"Okay class, so we're doing poetry. Boring, right? Wrong. Poetry is actually one of the best forms of self expression there is, because there are no rules. You can write about anything you think about, absolutely anything. It's just about the expression and the way you put across the words. The point of some poetry is to get other people to see things the way in which the writer interprets them, but the point of other poetry is to make people think themselves. It really doesn't matter what the subject matter is. So, I want you all to write a poem, you can write it about anything, but don't copy anything else. Really, it's all about being original" Mr Weekes explained pacing slowly up and down the front of class fixing his tie every so often as he spoke.

The skin tight jeans.

I can't deal with the damn skin tight jeans.

Mr Weekes had put emphasis on really being original, so that's exactly what I'm not gonna do. Glancing over my shoulder I see stacks of Romeo and Juliet play scripts, I grabbed one easily because they were easy to reach.

I began copying down the first few pages of the play as I wasn't going to do what Mr Weekes told me to, and may I point out how fucking dumb it seems? They talk stupid and the idea of everything that happens in the play is so far fetched, but none the less it's becoming my English work for the day.

I didn't even choose to copy down a poem, it's a fucking play script for gods sake.

Occasionally I looked up at Mr Weekes, I could probably write a poem about him, the way his chocolate coloured hair falls into his sky blue eyes, but that includes effort and at the moment Romeo and Juliet is giving me all the inspiration I need. By inspiration I one hundred percent mean copying material.

"Okay class, very well done" Mr Weekes said smiling pushing himself off of his seat "pass your papers to the front please, you can now watch the reading of the poem 'do not stand at my grave and cry'. It's not the most upbeat reading, but that's not my problem, it's an interesting poem to interpret"

I chuckle at his phrasing and pulled my phone out onto the desk, I began playing a shitty mobile game as the poem reading began to play, in pretty sure one of the girls cried at it or something. Also I was right earlier, I do have the same shitty phone games as Gerard. Knowing him he probably downloaded it on here himself because I sure as fuck don't remember doing it.

I ignored the poem, I'm not in the mood for interpreting anything. I'm very good at ignoring things I don't wanna pay attention to so I focused completely on my game instead.

Well, not completely. I was looking at Mr Weekes occasionally too. He was gorgeous as usual, flicking through the stack of paper with a cute look of concentration on his features. His eyebrows scrunched together slightly when he concentrated and it was adorable, his nose occasionally scrunched up too, probably when he was struggling to read a students handwriting or something.

I jumped in my seat when the bell rang loudly signalling the end of class, it caught me very off guard. Mr Weekes turned off the poem reading and everyone began to walk out of his class room to go home. As they left he sent them kilowatt smiles, I honestly don't understand how he doesn't have everyone in here launching themselves on to him.

I grabbed my bag and went to walk out, just as I was walking out I got stopped by Mr Weekes voice.

"Mr Urie, where do you think you're going?"

And the fun begins.