Brendon was surprised, and it really did take a lot to surprise him; he witnessed Ryan Ross' existence on a daily basis, after all, and it was indeed Ryan Ross who had left him quite so surprised, but it most certainly wasn't in the way he'd expected.

Ryan was a One Direction fan.

He'd probably would have guessed that the guy was going to die his eyebrows green over this, but no, Ryan's eyebrows were brown and he was sat with his acoustic guitar playing Night Changes by One fucking Direction.

And he sounded absolutely beautiful.

But that was a given, considering Brendon's current state and just how fucked up he was for this little trash loving shit, with an unnervingly beautiful voice, and an unnerving taste in music - he was also pretty damn good at guitar, and damn those fingers, and damn, Brendon had nothing to say for himself at all.

He just sat there with his mouth wide open, as if he was sucking an imaginary cock, Ryan's imaginary cock, probably, and watched the beautiful creature that was Ryan Ross perform some form of witchcraft as he played the aforementioned song.

Ryan blushed a little as he finished, finding himself forced to look at Brendon and watch his reaction, watch his stupid fucking grin, and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, and how fucking good he looked, all the time, and Ryan was going to ruin his life like this, but at that point, he didn't care anymore at all.

"One Direction, really? Are you an eleven year old girl?" Brendon raised his eyebrows, smiling a little as he faced Ryan and watched as he put the guitar down, which was really just an excuse to look away from the headteacher, because he was blushing like a really flushed grapefruit right now.

"Fuck off." Ryan rolled his eyes, leaning back against his bedroom wall, "they can sing, their songs are good, and they don't have millions of fans for no reason so fucking leave it-" Maybe Ryan was a little too passionate about One Direction but nobody had to know that, well, Brendon could, but Brendon was different.

"Did you cry when Zayn left?" Brendon asked, laughing his fucking ass off as he did so.

"Don't make fun of my pain-"

"I'm not making fun of your pain, I'm making fun of your ridiculous taste in music-"

"You're just jealous because Zayn's hotter than you." Ryan smirked, watching Brendon's face fall in true horror.

"I'm practically the same as Zayn, neither of us have a band." Brendon laughed, watching Ryan shake his head, hiding his face and internal pain as he did so.

"So you have nothing to say about that, apart from that you think my music taste is shit?" Ryan asked, raising his eyebrows and moving closer to Brendon, casually, in a heterosexual, legal way, of course.

"You made that song good." Brendon admitted, "I'm in awe, you're amazing, but I knew you would be, see I just know things, remember?"

"You know things?" Ryan scoffed, "what like how to run a school?"

"Okay, well..." He trailed off, "I know that you're amazing and you have talent, and that you always surprise me, you know, because at first, I just found you amusing, but now, now I care, I think too much about you."

Ryan nodded, "I used to think you were a prick, and now... now you hypothetically kissed me, but we only have to talk about it hypothetically so it's okay, but-"

"What do you want to say?" Brendon asked, meeting Ryan's gaze, "you want to talk about it. You're nervous, but you can say anything, the fact that I'm your headteacher doesn't matter-"

"We kissed, I think I've over looked that fact by now." Ryan laughed it off, continuing to blush like the flustered grapefruit he was. "But yeah..." He trailed off, his tone suddenly a whole lot more nervous, "I liked kissing you, I just, you make me nervous, and I'm never nervous, and it's not that you intimidate me, because you're shit at your job, how could you? It's just that I actually give a fuck about you and what you think of me, and well, that's kind of a weird thing to get my head around."

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being inappropriate and we really shouldn't be doing this, but I think there's something, Ryan, don't you?" Brendon asked, putting his arm around the younger man.

"I guess." Ryan began, "I don't really know what this kind of shit is supposed to feel like, but really I want to spend time with you like all the time and that's not normal with me. I'd also share weed with you, without question and for no other personal gain."

"Well, I'm honored." Brendon admitted, laughing a little, "but we have to keep all this quiet, okay, because if I get fired, like seriously, you know how incompetent I am, I'm not going to get another job."

"You won't need to worry about getting a job in prison." Ryan began, catching Brendon by surprise, "because if we fucked, that's statutory rape, because since you're my teacher I 'can't' consent, which sounds a little like bullshit to me, but like, this is my last year of school and I'm not a fucking idiot - no one's going to find out."

"No one's going to give a shit either." Brendon pointed out, "there are loads of teacher student things that I'm vaguely aware of, and I haven't done anything. I mean I would do something if some kid came into my office and told me a teacher raped them or something, but like, the paperwork, and it's seniors usually and there's not much of an age gap."

"You're such a shit teacher." Ryan let out a sigh, grabbing his cellphone as it vibrated in his pocket, "it's from Megan, she's stalked that Mr Petty- she's found his fucking house, oh my god, look she just sent me a picture of his house-"

"I didn't even know there was a Mr Petty at school-"

"You're kidding me, Brendon, you fucking- that guy works for you, you employed him." Ryan shook his head in disbelief.

"I know who Megan is." He added, "give me that at least."

"How can you not know who Megan is? Sometimes I wish I didn't, but whatever, she's amusing sometimes."

"Am I amusing sometimes?" Brendon asked.

"Your whole life is a joke." And maybe Ryan was being a bit harsh, but where was the lie?

Spoiler: there was no lie.

-

Frank hated to admit just how much he did kind of enjoy staying at Gerard's house; the guy always made him coffee, was just really fucking nice, his house was seriously some aesthetically pleasing shit, and then there was the fact that he was really comfy to sleep curled up next to, but Frank reckoned he was doing his best to ignore that last part.

As much as Gerard tried to make things normal with random jokes and snippets of conversation, Frank could tell he was still a little on edge, and well, Frank was too, as he sat there on Gerard's sofa, doing all he could to convince himself that he'd just been imagining things and that Gerard Way definitely hadn't tried to kiss him back in room 68B, but the way Gerard was acting did nothing but to disprove Frank, and fuck, his head was not taking well to the headache this brought on.

He leaned back against the sofa, glancing up at the ceiling, once at whatever crappy movie Gerard had put on the TV, and then at Gerard, who was mostly fixated upon the TV, besides the odd comment in regards to something appearing on screen; he was fucked, and god he was so fucking aware of it.

He let out a sigh, because Gerard was still being so fucking nice to him, and it seemed as if Gerard always would be that nice to him, even if Frank had pulled away, even if Frank didn't want to kiss him, Gerard still cared, because it wasn't just about that - it wasn't about getting something out of him, Gerard was here for him because he gave a fuck, and it was as simple as that, and still Frank had trouble processing it.

He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't pulled away. Fuck, if he'd even kissed back, what would have happened then, and for a good few moments, Frank even entertained the idea, although it was utterly preposterous due to the fact that Frank had a boyfriend and his name was Max and he'd probably kill the both of them if he found out that they'd kissed.

Frank let out a sigh, because Gerard was nice, Gerard was pretty, and Gerard did so much for him and he'd clearly made him nervous by rejecting him, but still, Gerard knew about Max and he should know that Frank was a decent enough person as not to cheat, but still, the matter still baffled Frank.

He wondered what he would have done if Max didn't exist, if he wasn't with Max, if he was just single, of course, if he wasn't with Max, he reckoned Gerard probably wouldn't be letting him stay here, but what if he would? What if he still would? Frank pondered the notion all in favour of simply delaying the act of working out just what he would do in the aforementioned situation for as long as possible, because deep inside, Frank knew the answer, and he knew it wasn't the one he was going to like.

He glanced at Gerard once more: a small smile on the older man's lips, and the reflection of the TV screen half visible in his hazel eyes, and fuck, Frank didn't even really realise he was staring until Gerard did, turning his head, and rather abruptly so, to meet Frank's gaze.

"You okay?" He asked, looking Frank over with concern in his eyes, and that odd kind of warm smile on his lips, and fucking hell, it was only then that Frank realised as to just how much he absolutely did not deserve Gerard Way as a friend.

"Yeah..." Frank let out a sigh, moving closer to him, "just thinking, staring into space, you know?"

"What about?" Gerard asked, also moving closer to Frank, and before either really knew it, their sides were touching, but Frank reckoned it was nice and kind of comforting and if cheating counted as sitting close to people then, well, that was just fucking impractical.

"Things..." Frank drew out a kind of vague response, blushing a little as he did so, because he didn't want to be like this with Gerard, but still, he didn't want to really bring up what may or may not have happened back in room 68B.

"Max?" Gerard asked, turning completely away from the movie now, all of his attention upon Frank, and really, Frank didn't feel worthy of it, because fuck, he reckoned he could slap Gerard right across the face right now and the guy would still continue to be nice to him, and really Frank just didn't know how to deal with that at all.

"I guess." Frank nodded, because it was sort of half true, wasn't it?

"Are you gonna reply to his messages and things?" Gerard asked, "you can stay here as long as you like, by the way, I really don't mind, the company's kind of nice as well." Gerard smiled, doing all he could not to blush, but in the end he found himself resulting to awkwardly turning away and styling his fringe over his face like it was two thousand and five.

"I'm kind of nervous... I just, I don't know, I don't want to 'ignore' him, but I don't want to get into an argument either, and you said about waiting until he calms down, but I really don't know if he will." Frank admitted, letting out a sigh, "I've just really kind of dug myself a grave here."

"No," Gerard shook his head, "that's far from the truth - what you did was get away from a situation that made you uncomfortable, and if he wants to get personally offended by that, then well, Frank, I would go tell him to go fuck himself."

"I know you would." Frank smiled a little, "thank you for the offer, just not yet, I don't think, I don't know, I'm still thinking about things."

"It's okay, you have as long as you want to think." Gerard glanced back at the TV screen, "are you even watching this because I've seen this at least twenty times."

"Not really." Frank admitted, with a nervous laugh.

"Hey, it's cool, I'm not the fucking movie police." He exclaimed, getting to his feet and turning the TV off, debating over leaving the disk in, before deciding that yes, he was a lazy motherfucker as he turned back to Frank, who'd taken his cardigan off, and fuck, Gerard really did reckon he needed warning before he did so, because fuck.

Frank blushed, looking up as he felt Gerard's eyes on his, and came to realise that he was indeed staring, "you okay?" He asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

"You need to fucking stop." Gerard exclaimed, gesturing towards his tattoos, "I can't deal with it-"

"Do you have a fucking tattoo kink or something?" Frank asked before he could stop himself, forgetting what kind of awkward situation they'd found themselves in since room 68B. "I'm sorry-" He blushed as he came to realise what he said, attempting to brush it off, when Gerard found himself answering.

"I'd call myself an art hoe," Gerard began, smirking a little, "art's beautiful, intriguing, fucking unbelievable. And when you get art on an already beautiful person, I really start to loose my shit."

Frank laughed a little, blushing, "you totally have a tattoo kink. It's confirmed."

"Fuck off." Gerard let out a sigh, sitting back down beside Frank, who decided he was going to be a fucking piece of shit as he rolled his shirt sleeves up to his shoulders, and undid another button. "Really just fuck off."

"What would you do if I took my shirt off?" Frank asked, you know, just hypothetically. "Cause I've got this really fucking neat chest piece that people don't tend to see because I don't really tend to walk around shirtless, but you know, you're an appreciator of art, and I was just wondering if you'd want to give an opinion."

Gerard bit his lip, trying to regulate his breathing as he glanced at Frank, trying to gauge just how much he was being serious right now. "Sure, go for it," he attempted to play it cool, expecting that Frank would just laugh it off and shake his head, but no, Frank didn't.

And Gerard died.

"Okay, fuck, I kind of thought you weren't being serious." Gerard admitted, his cheeks fucking crimson as Frank pulled his shirt off completely.

"Stop blushing like a fucking twelve year old and come and say pretentious things about my chest piece." Frank laughed it off, having a little too much fun, because this totally wasn't cheating either, because Frank was just showing his art to a professional, and asking an opinion, and if that was cheating then well, Frank was kind of fucked.

"Oh fuck, this is really cool." Gerard exclaimed as he looked more closely, biting his lip as he reached out to touch Frank's chest, tracing his fingers over the lines of ink, as Frank shivered a little at his touch.

"Your hands are fucking cold," Frank exclaimed, laughing a little, but in truth, he was fucking nervous as fuck, "stop it, oh my god."

"You're the one who took your shirt off and asked me to fucking examine your chest." Gerard laughed, pulling away, and leaning back into the sofa, "you're really fucking beautiful," he added a moment or two later, "this isn't me hitting on you, this is just me stating a fact, and I want you to know that, because you're fucking amazing and you deserve so much more than Max and what he wants to make you believe."

Frank let out a sigh, a small smile crawling over his lips as he put his shirt back on, "thank you," he added in response, "seriously, I don't feel like I deserve you being so nice to me all the time-"

"Oh shut the fuck up." Gerard exclaimed, "you deserve the entire fucking world."

Frank blushed a little, "I'm just really grateful, you know? And I'm sorry about what happened back in room 68B, but you know? You understand, don't you? And I'm just really grateful that you're still being nice to me, I know a lot of people would just... well, they wouldn't do that."

"It's okay." Gerard bit his lip, "I shouldn't have... I just, I guess I just forgot about things for a moment, like you know, you just loose all common sense because something seems so good, and you're just like fuck it, and then you don't quite realise what you've done until you've really fucked things up."

"You didn't fuck things up, Gerard." Frank smiled, "I promise you that."

"I'm good at fucking things up, though, so don't worry, it'll happen eventually." Gerard let out a sigh, sitting up a little, "I'm not very good with the whole lovelife, thing, and well, I've been single a fucking long time, but I guess I just don't put myself out there, and I well-"

"You come off like the world's biggest asshole." Frank told it him straight, "you really do, Gerard, but that's not the real you, is it? Why do you do that?"

"Habits, I guess, I mean, in high school I had to build myself up as this tough guy who didn't give a fuck so people wouldn't bully me for being such a fucking pansy. It kind of worked, and well, I think I just got used to it. Fucked up a lot of things in my life, though." Gerard admitted with a sigh.

"You don't have to do that anymore, no one's going to fucking pick on you, and hey, if they do, they're gonna have this fucking four foot tall man throwing a hardback copy of Romeo and Juliet after them." Frank joked, really just laughing at the mental image. "Because, no, Gerard, you're not an asshole, you're not a pansy either, you're a pretentious motherfucker who cares a lot about people, you're a sweetheart really, also you have a tattoo kink-"

"I do not!" Gerard exclaimed, completely losing his shit, "and like you have no kinks whatsoever, so don't shit on me for it-" Gerard stopped himself mid sentence as he suddenly came to remember the massive dildo, and burst out into laughter. "The dildo!"

"Oh my god." Frank shook his head in disbelief, burying his face into Gerard's side, "I fucking hate you."

"No," Gerard smiled, running his fingers through Frank's hair, "you don't."

-

hey pals!!! i hope u enjoyed this particularly homosexual chapter and if u did u can show ur appreciation with votes and comments which would be super cool !!!! i lov u guys !!!! :) !!!