It took Lindsey a while to find Frank, and when she did, he was in perhaps the last place she'd expect - his classroom. She'd heard an awful lot about Frank from Gerard, and that included that Frank was not one for getting to work early, especially when Gerard wasn't involved, and especially when he might have reason to not want to be there.

She closed his classroom door behind her, causing the English teacher to look up from his desk where he even looked to be doing some form of paperwork, which had her already seriously concerned for him.

"Hey," she began, smiling at him, and making her way across the room, glancing her eyes over the paperwork, or trying to, but Frank pushed it under a folder as soon as she got close enough for it to be legible. "This was the last place I looked for you, you know?"

"Well, obviously, it was the last, I mean, it's not like you're going to go look somewhere else once you've found me." And that right there, was a sentence that Gerard himself would be proud to speak, as Lindsey was also well aware of the fact that Frank had never been this much of a sarcastic little ass before he'd gotten to close to Gerard, but she doubted some playful comment in regards to the aforementioned was exactly the best thing to bring up in the circumstances.

She chose to laugh a little in response, tucking her hair behind her ears, and glancing behind her to double check that the classroom door was closed. "Oh you know what I mean, I thought you'd be out smoking-"

"Nah," He let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair, before pausing and continuing with, "I'm trying to quit."

And it was then that Lindsey really couldn't take it anymore, "that's bullshit, Frank, come on, you know it, I know it, he knows it, Chantal... knows it."

"What does Chantal Claret have to do with my decision to stop smoking?" Frank pulled on his best 'I'm not lying I promise' face and hoped for the best, however Lindsey had more than three brain cells and saw through it instantly.

"Funny thing is, I asked Gerard why he wasn't out smoking when he wanted to, he said he was trying to quit as well, of course, I didn't believe him either, because it's Gerard and he probably rather eat his own arm than stop smoking, and true is, he didn't want to run into you, and you and I both know just what that has to do with Chantal Claret."

Frank swallowed a little, cursing under his breath as he leaned back in his chair, "so what? Is it true? Because if it fucking is I'd much rather hear from him than some seventeen year old he's having an illegal relationship with, I mean, if he's got the balls to think he can just do this and fuck up my life and my relationship with Max then he should have the balls to tell me myself-"

"Frank," Lindsey's tone grew stern, her eyes beginning to burn into him a little, "Chantal just said what she said of her own accord - Gerard didn't want her to say anything. In fact, ever since he found out, he's been freaking the fuck out - he thinks you hate him, and you know how stubborn he is - if you let him, he'll ruin his life over this."

"So I've got to sort this shit out? Because everything's my fault-"

"Frank, I'm sorry, but for some godforsaken reason, Gerard actually listens to you, and everything anyone else says is like bullshit to him, and anyway, me saying you don't hate him isn't quite as credible as you saying it yourself..." She paused for a moment, smiling a little, "anyway, if you've got the balls to get offended by all this, you should have the balls to tell him what you think of him, how much you 'hate' him."

Frank let out a sigh, biting his lip, "I don't hate him."

"I know," Lindsey continued, meeting Frank's gaze.

"I don't love him though." Frank continued, now turning to biting his nails.

"There are more emotions in this world than love and hate," Lindsey continued, "Gerard doesn't hate you and I'm pretty damn sure that he doesn't love you either. But I do know that he cares a lot about you and that you care a lot about him, and hell, you two are good friends and don't let Gerard let himself fuck yet another friendship up, because if I can tell you anything, it's that he's awfully good at that."

Frank shook his head, "it's not his fault. He jumps to conclusions, but it's not his fault, and I think he just feels everything more strongly than other people do - he's either really passionate or he doesn't give even a fraction of a shit, not his fault at all."

"You know, Frank?" Lindsey raised his eyebrows a little, "I never said it was."

"Still doesn't mean I'm in love with him, Lindsey, or anything like that. He's just Gerard, and we're just close and-"

"And?" Lindsey interrupted him with a small smile, "and, I never said that either, Frank. All the implications of this conversation seem to be on your end, so fucking make of that what you will."

"And what does that mean? That I'm a liar, that I want to cheat on Max?" Frank crossed his arms, shaking his head.

"Didn't say that either." Lindsey smiled a little, "what Chantal said is irrelevant, and no one can say for sure what's going on in Gerard's head, and I can't say what's going on in yours, but I can say that you two definitely have something, and hey, it's up to you as to what you make of that something, but I think what you need to do is think about this, think about what you really want, really think about it, and talk to Gerard, if he seems pissed at you, tell him he looks pretty, you know how big his ego is."

"There's nothing egotistical about liking to be called pretty, it's not his fault and I think you should stop insulting him, and he is pretty-" Frank cut himself off, his eyes widening a little, "fuck..." he trailed off, "I just... he's my best friend I can be protective over him, can't I?"

Lindsey nodded, "course you can, but he can't be your best friend unless you make sure he knows that you two don't hate each other, so go on, talk to him before he fucks this up even more and gets fucked in the ass at break just to make a point." Frank's eyes widened at that, "oh trust me, Frank, he's done that before. Couldn't fucking walk - I had to teach his fucking lesson, and I'm telling you now that I would like my free period, Frank Iero."

-

"Sup, Daddy Zayn?" Ryan raised his head in Brendon's direction, having been sent to his office after setting a table on fire in science class, which was totally unreasonable, because he'd sincerely apologised to the table and everything, like seriously what did they expect of him? Not to do it in the first place, yeah, okay, perhaps.

"Please, dear Jesus fucking Christ, do not call me that." Brendon exclaimed, throwing his head down onto the desk, "not while we're in school at least," he added, perhaps as an afterthought, perhaps not as something he'd intended to say aloud.

"Okay, well I'll just climb out your window and shout it at you from the car park." Ryan suggested, throwing his bag to the ground, "is that better?"

"Yeah, that'd be fucking excellent." Brendon laughed a little, closing his laptop, and forgetting for one very crucial moment that the thing with Ryan Ross was that whatever you suggested he might do, he did without hesitation, and the head teacher only found himself reminded of that once Ryan was half way out his office window with a massive grin on his face. "You're fucking kidding me-"

"What's that..." Ryan trailed off, laughing his head off as he successfully made it out the window, standing in the car park just outside Mr Urie's office window, "Daddy Zayn?" He smirked, stepping back, further into the car park and raising his voice to a yell, "sup, Daddy Zayn?"

"Jesus fucking Christ-" Brendon gave up all hope in humanity and got to his feet, making his way to the window and peering out at Ryan and the most obnoxious grin he'd ever seen upon his face. "You know, the car park is still school property, Ryan!" He yelled out after him.

Ryan shrugged, "looks like I'm going to have to go further then, aren't I?"

"You can't leave school unsupervised!" Brendon found himself somewhat vaguely concerned about safe guarding his students for about a quarter of a second there, before coming to some form of 'sense'.

"Well," Ryan's face lit up even further, "come supervise me, Mr Urie." And with that, he turned around, making his way through the car park and towards the front gate.

When Brendon applied for this job, and when Brendon sucked dick for this job, he never once thought that it'd involve climbing out of his office window to chase after and supervise what was easily either the best or the worst student, or even person he'd ever met.

But you know, expect the unexpected and all that bullshit, carpe diem, whatever the fuck that meant; Brendon had it in some fancy display on his office wall, so really he should know what it meant, but he was a head teacher, and therefore he should know how to run a school, but this was the man that was currently climbing after a window in order to follow a seventeen year old who he may or may not be incredibly attracted to.

Thank god no one saw him.

Ryan was stood at the front gate, an unbelievably smug look on his face, having known from the very moment that he'd even considered climbing out of the window that Brendon would follow him; he didn't quite know what to do with that kind of power, although he felt like he should exploit it, he just quite honestly didn't feel like it, because truth be told, he quite honestly liked Brendon.

"So what exactly counts as not in school?" Ryan asked, making his way through the gate: something that really should have been locked, but yeah, Brendon ran this school. "The street outside? Or? I don't know, I mean, I'm not the teacher here, am I? You should be telling me things."

"The road, I guess, although I think I should be saying half way across the world, because no matter the location, I really don't want you screaming 'Daddy Zayn' at me." And Brendon really did his best to sound even vaguely offended by this all, but of course, his efforts were nowhere near as successful as he had hoped they would be.

"And so, what would you rather be called?" Ryan asked, a smile making itself known as a permanent fixture upon his face in Mr Urie's presence.

"Brendon." He responded, rolling his eyes, "you know, my name? It's not like I'm going around calling you daddy, is it?"

"I'm not being sexual, goddamn it, Brendon, that really would be inappropriate. I'm just referring to you by your instagram name." Ryan was of course telling exactly one hundred percent of the truth, because there was indeed absolutely nothing sexual about this or anything he did with Mr Urie at all, and that definitely included sucking him off.

"Well, you're being inaccurate then, because you missed the sixty nine off." Brendon rolled his eyes, attempting to express his distaste for the lack of sixty nine appropriately, as the two found themselves walking down the road with no particular destination in mind, which was again, totally appropriate and not at all weird or creepy, like, at all.

"Well, maybe we could fit in the sixty nine together. I mean, I'm not all that used to the sixty nine, maybe you could... help me?"

"And this is you not being sexual, is it?" Brendon raised his eyebrows, finding himself in a state of utter disbelief.

"Yeah, I mean, why would you possibly interpret it like that. I'm just talking about numbers- I love numbers, I love maths, and sixty nine is just my favourite." Ryan continued, laughing his fucking head off, of course, and truth be told, Brendon didn't quite know what to say anymore, or even where they were going, and just how he'd let Ryan basically lead him out of school with no disagreement whatsoever.

"Yeah, you fucking love maths so much that you skip it all the time and go and sit in my office or smoke weed or whatever." Brendon rolled his eyes, but truth be told, he wasn't exactly complaining.

"Not like I'm missing out on much: this is a shit school, there are shit teachers, and I'm pretty damn sure that you could teach me more about the number sixty nine than my maths teacher could."

"Is this you being an asshole or are you actually suggesting that we have sex?"

"Interpret it as you like, either is fine, I don't mind."

"And hypothetically where would we have sex, if hypothetically, that was how I chose to interpret it?" Brendon found himself asking, speaking of course, only hypothetically, as always, when it came to things like this, because he'd absolutely never behave inappropriately towards a student, would he?

"Well, hypothetically, my house is like two streets away, and no one's home, so hypothetically... we could have sex in there."

"Well, hypothetically, we might need to get there pretty quickly, you know, in case someone notices us out here in the street, you get what I mean?"

"I think hypothetically you need to calm down and be patient."

"I think hypothetically you need to remember that you're an ass."

Ryan raised his eyebrows at that, "you only think I'm an ass hypothetically? I'm honoured."

"I think that in the same way, I think that we're going to hypothetically have sex."

"Oh..." Ryan nodded, a small smile on his lips, "then yeah, asshole's practically my middle name."

"Thought so."

-

By break time, Frank had just about gathered the confidence to make his way down to Mr Way's art room - this whole thing had seriously fucked with his head, and in fact, his lessons today had been even more pathetic than usual, which had to be setting some form of world record, because he was an astoundingly shit teacher, but at least he didn't have to worry about getting fired, because from what he'd heard, Brendon had even mysteriously disappeared from his office today, not that anyone really minded, because he didn't do anything when he was here, so it actually didn't make much in the way of difference.

Mr Urie was the least of his concerns, though, especially when he found his whole existence revolving around Gerard, and of course what Lindsey had said, and indeed what it all meant, and whether Chantal's words could possibly hold some truth to them, and then what was even so horrific about the notion that another gay man found him attractive, because hey, surely that was a compliment in some form, wasn't it?

Or perhaps Gerard didn't like him in that way at all, and Chantal had simply gotten it wrong or made something out of nothing, or just really fancied the idea of fucking up his life that day - really, any of the above seemed entirely plausible.

However, he wasn't there to contemplate what Chantal had said and what Gerard could possibly think of him in secret, he was just there to fix this friendship, because it was an important friendship that regardless of this mess, mattered to him.

And Frank was certain that Gerard couldn't like him like that, because he was seriously the kind of person who would have sucked his dick by now if he did, but no, nothing of the sort had happened, and it was clear in Frank's mind that everything had been misconstrued and that Gerard just did think of him as a friend - a friend with a boyfriend he didn't particularly lie, yes, but what did that matter?

As Frank knocked upon Gerard's classroom door, he received no form of response, and even found himself stood outside for a good few minutes, in fact, just as any excuse not to actually go in and face him, because there was no way around the fact that Frank was nervous, and that Frank was not only nervous, but nervous as hell.

It was only as he heard footsteps coming down the corridor that he made his way inside, because truth be told, he didn't want to be seen stood angstily outside Mr Way's door like the pathetic piece of shit he was, and that would really only fuel the rumours about them, and that was easily the last thing he needed right now.

Once inside, Frank found himself shocked at the realisation that there was no sign of Gerard whatsoever, and his first instinct was that he had been kidnapped or something equally as dramatic, his second however, was indeed far more rational: suspecting that Gerard had gone out to smoke or something, which was probably what had happened, since it was Gerard.

But being alone in Gerard's room, Frank found himself curious and making his way over to the desk, glancing over Gerard's laptop and an empty mug of coffee, and a half finished sketch besides the aforementioned; he didn't want to invade his privacy, he was just vaguely curious, and he rationalised this all in his head with the excuse that he was waiting for Gerard to come back.

He wasn't.

Frank was dreading Gerard coming back, and not particularly enjoying glancing over his possessions either, but what could he do? Grow some fucking balls, yeah, but it didn't seem like that was going to be happening any time soon.

He stood there in silence for another minute, before he found himself with some form of mini heart attack as a loud bang came from the other side of the room.

Frank's eyes widened and he found himself moving to investigate the noise, however finding no form of explanation in the room, and it was only as another bang sounded out: somewhat muffled, quieter, Frank realised just where the sound was coming from: the supply cupboard.

Frank's eyes widened: thoughts racing through his mind, as Lindsey's words from early repeated themselves an echo, and Frank found himself short of breath, and oddly uncomfortable, oddly jealous even... and for a reason he couldn't quite place.

But then, with a groan and a muffled, "fuck," in an all too familiar voice coming from the supply cupboard, Frank's heart sank, his head spinning as he found himself realising that Lindsey would not be getting her free period today, and that there was an odd feeling in his chest like he'd been stabbed twenty times: something he couldn't quite rationalise.

-

hey pals !!! hope u liked this chapter lmao if u did u should vote &&& comment because actually i can't think of a reason pls just do it, be shia. lov u pals !!!