Mr Way stood outside room sixty eight B just a minute before the bell for the end of the day rung, to put it rather bluntly, he was ambushing Frank, yes, but really what he was doing was waiting for him, because he was his ride today after all, and he had to make sure he got home safely didn't he?
Fuck, Frank was going to scream at him for this, he knew it already, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of mood the guy could be in with the amount of fucking rumours that had gone around school that day, but still, they were just that rumours, and Gerard cared a whole lot about Frank, and no amount of rumours could do anything to challenge that.
As the bell finally rang, the classroom door burst upon, students practically sprinting down the corridor and out of school, only a few taking note of Gerard's presence, and perhaps raising an eyebrow, because everyone in school had their own little theory as to what could possibly be going on between Mr Iero and Mr Way exactly, of course, none of them were right because they were actually just friends, but Gerard liked to think he was doing them a service by giving people something to talk about at least.
A group of girls were the last to leave the classroom, deep in conversation, and seemingly startled to see Mr Way stood waiting. "Oh my god, Mr Way-" one of them began before another made a rather loud and obvious shushing gesture.
Gerard laughed a little, "I'm waiting for Frank, yeah." He watched as they looked at one another in extreme excitement.
"Good, because he's been upset this lesson and it's not like him." Another spoke up, before they seemed to run off down the corridor, blushing, Jesus Christ, fourteen year olds.
It was then Gerard realised, that it was his turn to be nervous and blush a lot, because now Frank had to be in there on his own, like unless he'd climbed out the window to avoid him or something, which Gerard kind of hoped hadn't happened, because okay, he was a bit uptight, but he wouldn't say his existence was so terrible that people would climb out of windows to avoid him.
"Fuck..." He let out a sigh, before just pushing the classroom door open.
Frank was sat at his desk, cellphone in front of him, lighting up with several messages, but Frank seemed intent upon ignoring them, just sat there, staring into the distance.
"Frank?" Gerard asked, closing the door behind him and making his way over to the younger man, "are you okay?" He asked, meeting Frank's gaze.
"Not really." Frank admitted with a sigh, wanting to turn away and scream something at Gerard, but he held his gaze, and fuck, even reached out, holding onto his wrist. "Max is pissed at me, you're pissed at me, Brian's pissed at me-"
"I'm not pissed at you." Gerard exclaimed, pulling Frank up and into a hug, "I'm anything but pissed at you," he continued, his words muffling into Frank's shoulder.
Frank pulled away a little awkwardly, desperate to hide how much he was blushing, but it really didn't seem like it was going to happen, "thank you, I'm sorry, I- I ask too much of you, and yeah, I'm kind of jealous of Brian, I want you to care about me the most... that sounds so fucking selfish, but-"
"It's okay." Gerard smiled, only then coming to realise that Frank was still holding tightly onto his wrist, and fuck, they were practically holding hands, "Brian doesn't hate you either, he really doesn't, he just, I don't know really, he just doesn't like that you have a boyfriend and we're so close."
"But it's fine, because we're just friends, Gerard." Frank reminded him, "did you tell him that?"
"Yeah, but, you know, I don't know how much of that he really listened to." Gerard let out a sigh, "what happened with Max, and your phone, all those messages you're ignoring, I assume they're from him-"
"He thinks I'm cheating on him." Frank let out a sigh, running a hand back through his hair, "won't listen to a fucking word I say, he's so fucking angry, and he keeps telling me to come the fuck home, and I..." Frank paused, words lodging in his throat, because in that moment they both knew exactly what was going to happen if Frank came home to Max in this state.
"You can stay at mine tonight too, if you want." Gerard offered, "I wouldn't feel okay with dropping you off there and just leaving you, I-"
"I have to go back eventually, it's just gonna get worse the longer I don't-"
"You don't have to fucking do anything, Frank." Gerard let out a sigh, holding Frank tight, the two just holding hands at this point, just holding onto one another as if the other might disappear into nothingness at any moment. "You can go back to him when he's calmed down and appreciates you."
"And you're telling me what to do now. I thought I didn't have to do anything." Frank grinned a little at that.
"Okay, well, I strongly suggest that-"
"Shut up." Frank let out a sigh, taking hold of Gerard's other hand too. "Your hands are fucking cold," he added.
"I didn't ask you to warm them up for me." Gerard commented, his voice shaking a little.
"I know." Frank added, smiling a little, "but this is me doing what I want to do and not what other people tell me."
"By being an annoying little shit?" Gerard raised his eyebrows at that. "You're not annoying though, I-"
"I know you're joking." Frank pulled away, grabbing his cellphone and laptop, "you're always too nice to me, I don't think you could insult me if you tried."
"Oh, don't test me, Iero, you fucking midget-"
"Do not go there." Frank warned, raising his eyebrows at Gerard, the two stepping closer, "don't you dare."
"I dare." Gerard laughed, the two growing closer still, and only in that moment did he realise just how close his lips were to Frank's.
"Yeah, sure," Frank laughed it off, his cheeks bright red as he pulled away, making his way towards the door, and leaving Gerard cursing himself for being such a fucking idiot as he followed him.
-
Ryan found himself coming to conclude that smoking weed alone was nowhere as fun as smoking weed with Mr Urie. It was in that very same moment that Ryan Ross also concluded that he was a fucking idiot, especially for even giving a shit about Mr Urie, but things had definitely changed even further more with their last chat, and Ryan wouldn't even say things had changed in a bad way, he just felt different inside.
He felt like he could trust him, and talk to him about what he was really feeling, and that was weird, because Mr Urie was a teacher and he wasn't supposed to feel like that at all, especially when he felt like he couldn't even talk to his friends about those things.
He continued to smoke and considered this kind of hole he'd dug for himself, and just how there was no way out of it now. Fuck, he even considered playing for Mr Urie, fuck, there really was no hope for him now, but still he smiled on, imagining what Mr Urie could possibly say to him, because there was some fucked up part of his head that most definitely lived to please that guy, and god Ryan hated that, but Ryan didn't hate it as much as he hated the realisation that it wasn't just a part of his head, but the whole thing.
He liked Mr Urie.
That was clear, obvious, even, but to the rest of the world it was just a big joke - it had been to Max, at least, because Mr Urie was an idiot, but still not stupid enough to sleep with Ryan Ross, or even kiss him, or let him suck him off, but in reality, Mr Urie wasn't an idiot at all, and Ryan was learning that, and he hated the way his brain innately rejected the idea, the truth, because Mr Urie was a teacher, but that wasn't all he was.
Brendon Urie was a nice guy who seemed to care, and Ryan seemed ready to take that chance, but it was like nine in the afternoon, and it wasn't like he could just call the dude up and talk to him, because in that moment, Ryan figured that, yeah, he really did need someone to talk to.
However, maybe he could.
Ryan laughed for a moment, rejecting the idea momentarily as nothing more than ridiculous, before grabbing his cellphone and trying it, opening the facebook app, because yeah, okay maybe Brendon Urie was someone stupid enough to have his phone number publically listed on his facebook profile, but even if he didn't, Ryan didn't really expect the guy to block him if he messaged him asking for it, or even just started talking to him there.
But Ryan had been right, and he found himself laughing for a good few minutes, saving it to his contacts as something less suspicious than 'Mr Urie', opting instead for 'My Drug Dealer' just incase his mum ever looked through his phone, because obviously, his actual drug dealer was saved under the contact name 'mum', because she'd never suspect herself. In a weird way, Ryan was kind of a genius.
His mum's actual number was saved under 'don't ever answer', and of course the only flaw with this plane was that if he was ever in an accident and people looked through his phone to call his mum, they'd be calling a twenty two year old crackhead called Greg who owned four dogs, which might sound a little off.
Ryan soon found himself laughing again however, accidentally tapping on Brendon's profile picture, and finding himself faced with a man pouting and throwing a peace sign in a rainbow tie dye tank top, it was only then that Ryan was one hundred percent certain that this was the right Brendon Urie.
He then glanced at the contact in his phone, and wondered just what he could possibly say when Brendon picked up, but then again, Brendon just might applaud him for finding his phone number, who knows? There was one way to find out, wasn't there? And it seemed like Ryan was stoned enough to try anything right now.
So with that, he leaned back against his bedroom wall and pressed the call button, putting his phone to his ear, and waiting, too stoned to be nervous, which was definitely a good thing, because he didn't know what he'd say otherwise, he'd also probably be quite concerned as to why he wasn't stoned, because he was always stoned.
"Hello?" Brendon answered, picking up the phone, and putting on his vaguely professional voice, and leaving Ryan giddy like a fucking thirteen year old girl.
"Hey." He responded, smoking a little more pot to keep himself going, waiting as Brendon began to consider the possibility that this could be Ryan Ross.
"Who is this?" He asked, his tone making evident that he was a little nervous, and it was then that Ryan was certain that he'd recognised his voice the very moment he'd heard it.
"I thought you would have guessed, come on, guess." Ryan pouted, even though Brendon couldn't see him.
Brendon laughed down the phoneline, "Ryan, how did you get my number? And why did you even want my number? Why are you calling me?"
"You should probably consider making some aspects of your facebook profile a little more private." Ryan continued, giggling as he did so, "also really nice profile picture by the way, love that tank top-"
"Shut the fuck up-" Brendon let out a sigh, "I'm finding yours now, I bet yours is fucking abysmal- oh my god, 'Ryan EatMyAss Ross,' are you serious?"
"I was very very drunk." Ryan let out a sigh, "I've got that name for, I think forty more days. I look pretty hot in my profile picture, though."
Brendon only laughed a little, perhaps nervously, because yeah, Ryan wasn't wrong, but also Ryan was a minor, and Brendon suddenly became aware of how much of pedophile he was becoming, because seriously, facebook stalking students at his school? Not even original, damn.
"Why are you even calling me, Ryan? Is it just because you're stoned and a little bored?" He asked, wondering just what kind of excuse Ryan could possibly concoct in order to save his ass today.
"I want to... I just... I want to talk, Brendon, I have some shit, and I... I came to this horrible realisation that I feel far more comfortable talking to you than I do any of my friends, because I... I just, my friends are just people with hair... that I can set on fire, people with faces, that I can punch, to get your attention. I actually want to talk and spend time with you, I don't know why, you're a fucking idiot, but-"
"But I'm a fucking idiot who can get you out of whatever lesson you want." Brendon finished for him, laughing a little, "I like talking to you too, you know? You should feel lucky, lucky about that because otherwise I'd be calling your mother right now, not you."
"She's not even in the country." Ryan exclaimed, laughing a little, "on holiday with some fucking boyfriend called Eric or something stupid... he's a prick, she's an idiot."
"So whoever you're staying with then." Brendon continued with this horrible sinking feeling in his stomach that he may have to step in, and feel morally obliged to act as Ryan's adult supervision, or something like that.
"Not staying with anyone." Ryan shrugged it off, "like this for another week, I'm kinda lonely, Brendon."
"You need some sort of adult supervision, Ryan, you're a minor-"
"I'm seventeen-"
"You're a minor-"
"If you insist." Ryan smirked a little, "if you insist, you're an adult, come supervise me."
-
It had been a terrible idea: the worst, but being Ryan's teacher, he had his address on file, and he couldn't help but find himself terribly concerned for the seventeen year old's safety, especially considering the fact that he was high, and it was that, which forced him to be the good guy here and drive across town to Ryan Ross' house.
Not because he was a pedophile.
This was strictly professional, and Brendon was just being a responsible adult here, and he totally didn't just want to hang out with Ryan Ross, at all.
But he did.
He really did.
And he knew that the very moment Ryan had hung up the phone, the moment he'd got in his car, the moment he'd got out, and right until the very moment he found himself ringing Ryan's doorbell.
It rang for a few moments before the door opened, revealing an all too smug Ryan Ross, because he'd seen this coming, because Brendon was yes, he was a fucking idiot, Ryan had been wrong, the guy was indeed stupid, but he liked him nonetheless.
"Well, hello, sir." Ryan grinned a little, closing the door behind Brendon, who took his shoes off, and blushed a little, glancing around the place, and it soon became rather evident, that yes, a seventeen year old boy had been living here by himself for a few days.
"It's Brendon outside of school, remember?" He let out a defeated sigh, stepping closer to Ryan, and hating the way he was taller than him, because Ryan Ross was a tall motherfucker, and a stoned motherfucker by the way he couldn't keep still for more than a brief moment.
"Whatever you say- oh hey, do you want to know what I saved you as in my contacts?" Ryan exclaimed, looking entirely too proud of himself as he practically threw his cellphone into his headteacher's face, his contacts page open.
"My drug dealer?" Brendon retorted in disbelief, "please tell me this is the wrong contact-"
"I didn't save my drug dealer as that, you idiot, I saved my drug dealer as mum, because that's who she'd never suspect: she doesn't know her own phone number so it's fine. See, you were right, I'm pretty clever, after all." Ryan grinned, leaving Brendon shaking his head, and for some godforsaken reason, following Ryan upstairs.
"Why did I even come over?" Brendon spoke aloud, shaking his head.
"I knew you would." Ryan admitted, sitting back down on his bed, and offering Brendon some weed.
"I knew you knew that." Brendon closed the door behind him, accepting the weed, because they weren't in school, not that he'd decline it when they were in school, but, whatever. "Is smoking weed and annoying me all you do?"
"No," Ryan smiled, "sometimes I do meth."
"Ryan-"
"I play guitar too." He gestured to his guitar across the room, "I do something productive."
"You should play for me." Brendon suggested, not having yet realised as to just how close the two were sat.
"What do you want me to play?" Ryan asked, blushing, "hypothetically, if I was going to play for you, because you don't just get me to do things that easily, you're Brendon Urie, not Barack fucking Obama, so convince me."
Brendon laughed a little, "I won't expel you if you play for me."
"Like you were ever going to do that." Ryan laughed in his face, turning to face him, crossing his legs as he did so.
"Okay, so what kind of persuading do I need to do?" Brendon asked, also moving so he was facing Ryan.
"Well, how much are you willing to do? How much do you want me to play?" Ryan asked, smirking like hell.
"A lot. Let's say, I really care about this, let's say, it, and you are very important things to me," he paused, blushing a little, "hypothetically, of course."
"Then, hypothetically, I reckon you could do something, to hypothetically get me to play, you know give me the confidence, because hypothetically this would hypothetically be something I really wanted you to do. Hypothetically."
"So, hypothetically, what is this something?" Brendon asked, blushing a little, leaning closer to Ryan subconsciously.
"Well, hypothetically, I reckon, you could hypothetically, kiss me. Hypothetically."
Brendon looked up at Ryan with an odd kind of disbelief, things only beginning to make sense in his head, and he glanced at the guitar, then back at Ryan, and decided that he couldn't possibly be more of a fuck up as he leaned in and kissed him, taking Ryan Ross by surprise for the first time in his life.
"So will you play now?" Brendon asked as he pulled away. "You said you would."
Ryan blushed further, his cheeks a brighter shade of red then Brendon could have ever imagined them to be. "I-I-I... guess..."
-
hey pals how are you all??? i hope u like this update??!! and if u did votes and comments would be v nice !!! lov u guys !!! :)