"Ryan, are you fucking kidding me?" Was the first thing Mr Urie said once he'd gotten a moment alone with Ryan Ross: now a major suspect in the crime that was the random shit carved into the walls around school.

Ryan shrugged a little, sitting down in the chair opposite him, of course, after he'd ensured that his office door was closed - something that had almost become a force of habit, down to the amount of time he spent with Mr Urie, which was seriously surprising when he thought about it, and even to him.

"Seriously, you carved shit into the walls- what did you even use?" Brendon went on to exclaim: utterly unsure what to make of the situation at all. In fact, the only thing he was sure of, was that it was Ryan who'd done it, which was something that the members of staff who'd actually given more of a shit about the whole thing, were somehow less certain of.

Then again, not everyone who worked at this school had such a personal relationship with Ryan, well at least Brendon hoped not anyway.

"A knife." Ryan said after a moment, his tone entirely too nonchalant, but honestly Brendon had never once seen Ryan really take anything seriously.

"A knife." Brendon repeated: unsure what the fuck he was supposed to make of that. "Okay, so one, why the fuck did you do it? Two, where the fuck did you get the knife from?"

Ryan shrugged again, "you know, I honestly just felt like it," he met Brendon's gaze, "you ever do that? Do something fucking stupid because you want some attention? Because fuck it. Because I want people to give a shit. Because it's a statement, because I want people to talk about me, because I want people to talk about me, because I am a walking publicity stunt and it's fucking wonderful. I don't see why this is any different, you know?" He paused, exhaling a little, "you seem to give a shit this time."

"You severely vandalised a great portion of the school." Brendon stammered out, his eyes a little wide, "I can confiscate your weed, I can buy a new table that you set on fire, I can bullshit how sorry I am to a parent of a child you punched because you felt like it. I can't fucking buy new walls, Ryan, seriously? This."

"Sorry." He let out a sigh, "not the only reason I did it, though. Megan was upset as well. Muddy Warter was being a bitch to her-"

"Muddy Warter-" Brendon was cut off in confusion, "oh... that one," he made a disgusted kind of grimace.

"Yeah so Megan was upset, and Megan's my best friend, so I was being nice by doing some shit against Muddy on the walls-"

"Oh god, you wrote about people!?" Brendon exclaimed, holding his head in his hands, "Ryan, that's worse, Jesus Christ, I-"

"Wow, you didn't actually read it, fucking hell, Mr Urie, I'm offended-"

"No, I didn't get the chance, seeing as it was the first thing shoved into my face this morning by Agnes at reception." Brendon made another disgusted grimace, which Ryan couldn't help but laugh in response to.

"Agnes." Ryan mimicked Brendon's grimace, "I am not a fan of her. I imagine she wasn't a fan of my art either-"

"It's not fucking art, Ryan," Brendon let out a sigh, hating how he found it so fucking difficult to be angry at him, "it'd be better if it was just some pen and shit, maybe spray paint, fuck, but you carved shit into the walls. With a knife. Why? If you weren't you, I would expel you."

Ryan was taken a back at that, "you've never expelled anyone."

"I know. Too much paperwork, but this shit, Ryan, goddamn it, please try to... try to cause less permanent damage to the school, we've got to get this shit paid for-"

"Well I can't pay for it. I have no money, my mum barely has any money." Ryan paused, sighing, "Megan's parents wouldn't be happy either."

"Why would Megan have to pay for it? I get you did it partly to cheer her up but-"

"Well she did it as well." Ryan added, his eyes widening when he noted the change in Brendon's expression, "don't bring her into this as well, though, I'll take her blame. She was upset. Muddy was really horrible to her. Also Muddy's a bitch. Blame Muddy."

"You're not all arrogance, are you?" Brendon said after a moment, "there real is a whole lot more to you. I was right."

"Fucking good for you." Ryan scoffed, putting his feet up on Mr Urie's desk. "I seriously think you should blame Muddy, or at least get her to take that absolutely fucking tragic make up off, like dear god."

"You care about Megan, though, you really do-"

"Well, yeah, she's my best friend." Ryan rolled his eyes, "she's a bit of an idiot, but she's my best friend."

"Okay..." Brendon let out a sigh, leaning forward a little, "what did Muddy say to Megan?"

"Oh, yeah she said Michael Clifford was ugly." Ryan said all too casually, "that's the dude who thinks he's punk from 5 Seconds Of Summer, "I don't really like them, but, like you understand that's a serious crime... don't you, daddyzayn69?"

"Fuck-" Brendon threw his head back in disbelief, because Ryan had a point, he fucking had a point, even if only Brendon saw it, Ryan had a fucking point.

"What if Agnes went up to you and said Zayn was ugly-"

"I'd stab her!" Brendon exclaimed without thinking.

"I know, and that's what Megan was intending to do to Muddy, so technically by encouraging an alternative, I saved you a possible murder." Ryan smiled, "also because I really didn't want Megan to get arrested because then I'd have to hang around with Jon again and he talks shit about you and I can't stand for that shit-"

"You talk shit about me." Brendon exclaimed, his eyes widening as he really took in what Ryan had told him, "wait what? Are you shitting me?"

"I'm allowed to talk shit about you, I mean, we're... we're... we have a thing, don't we? Jon's just being a little bitch." Ryan sighed a little, "please don't expel me, I don't want to go to an actual school."

"What am I supposed to do, Ryan? Who am I supposed to blame it on and how?"

"They have other suspects, I know. There's that kid called Alan, he's creepy as fuck. He deserves to get expelled. Blame it on him. You're in charge here, you call the shots." Ryan smiled, appealing to Brendon's good side, "hey look, I'll even try not to fail my exams for you, just as a thank you."

"Okay, I'll blame it on Alan, if..." he paused, meeting Ryan's eyes, "you go to your classes, most of them anyway, and actually try, and get good grades. I want you to go somewhere in life, you got that, Ryan?"

"Or I could give you a blowjob-"

"Ryan."

"Fine."

-

"Frank, come on..." Gerard let out a sigh, reaching for Frank's hand, as the English teacher tried all he could to avoid Gerard, ignore him, and indeed just walk straight past without anything much to say, but Gerard was easily the most stubborn person in the entire world, and well, he fucking wanted to talk to Frank.

"What?" Frank snapped, finding himself pushed against the corridor wall by Gerard, who was perhaps even increasingly more stubborn with every second that their conversation went on.

"You can fucking stop ignoring me for a start-" Gerard began, cutting himself off as he came to realise just how aggressive he was coming off, which wasn't how he wanted this to go at all; he wanted Frank to listen to him, in fact, he needed Frank to listen to him, because he cared, fuck, he cared so fucking much that it was seriously beginning to fuck up his life. "Sorry..." He sighed out, meeting Frank's gaze, "we just need to talk. I need to talk to you, and I hate that you feel like you have to avoid me and-"

"I made a mistake, Gerard. I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said it, I shouldn't have said fucking anything and now you won't let it go - that's why I\m avoiding you, because you need to fucking let it go - I don't want to have some bullshit conversation that doesn't mean anything at all; you need to stop assuming the things you want to assume about my life, because you can't fucking dictate my life, you get that, don't you, Gerard? Because you don't act like you do."

Gerard let out a sigh: hating every word that Frank had uttered, but never able to bring himself to hate Frank.

"I made a mistake." Frank repeated, locking eyes with Gerard, staring him down. "I didn't mean it, and you know I didn't. Because you know I love him and you know I wouldn't be with him if I didn't love him. I had a bad day and I over exaggerated, we all do that, don't we?"

Gerard looked unconvinced and wanted to yell back at Frank, ensure he knew that Gerard thought he had it all wrong, but he stood there in silence instead: nervous, and caring far too much as to what Frank thought of him.

"Like, when you have an argument with your parents and you yell at them that you hate them, but you don't mean it-"

"Yeah, when you're fucking fifteen years old and you're full of hormones. That doesn't happen anymore - you're supposed to have gotten your shit together by twenty five, Frank." Gerard's words came out before he could really think them through, and in afterthought he knew he most certainly wasn't helping matters, but there was nothing he could do to change what he'd already said; he just had to roll with it and hope for the best.

"Yeah, well I haven't gotten my shit together, Gerard. How about that?" Frank narrowed his eyes, "I'm a fucking mess, and I need Max, I depend on him, because I haven't gotten my shit together and I love him very much for putting up with me."

"You should love him because you love him not because he puts up-"

"Gerard, I do fucking love him, can you fucking-" Frank attempted to move from Gerard's grasp, "can you please fucking let me go? I have a class to teach, I have-"

"Not for another twenty minutes." Gerard finished for him, "and we're gonna talk, because you said what you said, Frank, and you fucking well know it sounded like you meant it."

"I don't care what you thought I sounded like." Frank rolled his eyes, pulling away from Gerard the best he could. "I know what the fuck I meant, Gerard, leave me alone, because it's obvious that we just can't be friends without you bringing up all this shit, it's just-... it's like you're fucking in love with me or something and you\re trying to make Max out as the fucking antichrist, because you're fucking jealous. Wow, so hey, maybe fucking Chantal was right."

Frank knew he'd gone too far before he'd even said it, but fuck it, because Gerard could fucking decipher what it 'sounded like he meant' for himself.

"It's not like that." Gerard's voice suddenly grew very quiet as he pulled away from Frank, "I promise you it's not like that." It kind of was, though, Gerard just hated that it had to be.

"Okay...." Frank trailed off, exhaling, and just finding himself grateful of the fact that Gerard was no longer practically pinning him up against the wall, which wasn't exactly the most comfortable of positions. "That's.... good to know..."

"I'm just worried about you." Gerard forced himself to meet Frank's eyes, "really fucking worried about you, because yeah, I care about you, and let it be a fucking crime if you want it to, but we're friends, Frank, and I care, because I can't stop thinking about every time you seem to 'slip up' and saying something bad about Max, and then the bruise and staying at my house because you didn't want to face him and the way it all adds up to be a fucking abusive relationship." He paused, "sorry, but it's just the way I see things. That's the way Brian sees things as well."

"So Brian did something other than fuck you in the ass, then?" Frank asked: his tone perhaps excessively bitter.

Gerard swallowed, hard, "y-yeah... that was a mistake..."

"So yeah, you're allowed to make mistakes and do and say things you don't mean, but I'm not?" Frank asked, his tone more disbelieving than angry anymore.

"Okay, you know what, Frank? Let's look at it truthfully, shall we?" Gerard raised his voice a little, "I wanted to fuck Brian, and it was good when it was happening, and only when we realised the consequences of it did we find ourselves regretting what had happened. And it's the same for you, isn't it? Because you meant what you said, you're just scared of the consequences. You think you need him, and perhaps on some degree you do, and I just want you to be okay-"

"I am okay-"

"I want you to be happy, then." Gerard let out a sigh, "I want you to be one hundred percent happy. The happiest you've ever been. I want you to be so happy. That's all I want. For you to be happy and safe, and okay."

"You sound a fucking hell of a lot like you're in love with me," Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Gerard blushed a little, grimacing, "I care about you a lot, yes, but not- I love you as a friend."

"That's the biggest no homo I've ever heard," Frank laughed a little at that, pulling his gaze up to meet Gerard's, before rolling his eyes. "You deserve a medal for that."

"Frank," Gerard looked at him in confusion, "so what? You fucking want me to be in love with you or something, because it sounds like that right now?"

Frank shook his head, "I don't know what I want. I want us to be friends, and I want things to be normal, and I want you to just let me get on with my life and my relationship."

Gerard sighed, pulling away, "we are friends, and things can be normal, and I am ready to let you live your life, I'm just really fucking concerned that your relationship with Max is abusive, and there are more kinds of abuse than physical abuse, you know? And you can't really tell when you're in these kinds of relationships, so that's why I feel like I need to help you."

Frank shook his head, brushing his hair from his face, "okay, it's not fucking plain sailing one hundred percent of the time but no relationships are like that, and yeah, sometimes it's difficult because he's mentally ill, but it wasn't like it's some fucking surprise, I knew that when I got with him and I was prepared to deal with that, and he's prepared to deal with the fact that my entire life is a fucking wreck and that I'll easily never get myself together. And we have arguments and bad days, but we're close and I rely on him."

"I'm sorry, Frank, I mean, I just- I really feel like there's something off, and it's not just me, is it? Brian feels it too. I think Lindsey does as well." Gerard tried for perhaps the seven thousandth time, because he was stubborn as hell and perhaps this was the first time in his life that he found himself grateful of it.

"Admittedly, I don't really know what a relationship should be like. My relationship with Max is my only serious relationship, but...." He trailed off, "I'm happy. And I'm sure of that."

"So you'd be happy if he hit you again?"

Frank shook his head that time, "okay, Gerard, if he hits me again then I'll listen to you, but he's not going to. I know he isn't. But if he does, then okay, maybe you have a point."

"Okay, I guess," Gerard sighed out.

"So can we be friends without you bringing up Max every four seconds?" Frank asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

Gerard nodded, "yeah." Just happy to be on good terms with Frank, and in the world's worst way, finding himself hoping that Max would hit Frank again, because as horrible as the notion was, it seemed like it was the only thing that would have him realise what was going on, and he needed to listen to Gerard more than he needed anything.

"Come on," he pointed down the corridor towards his classroom, "I'll show you what is easily the worst piece of work I've ever looked at before break's over."

"What? You actually make them do work?" Gerard exclaimed: genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Frank rolled his eyes, "well... this was from when I wasn't here so they had a supply teacher. So I set them work, and well, the results are interesting, which is actually making marking work vaguely amusing."

"Marking?" Gerard continued to look at him in disbelief.

"There's not actually all that much to marking. It's just ticking paragraphs and writing neater handwriting or better spelling or good work, or some bullshit like that, like if it's generic enough you don't even have to read it. I only read the ones that are evidently particularly shit or particularly good, but since it's well, this school, there's been one vaguely adequate one, and an excess of piles of shit. It's amusing, though."

"Marking art work is easier. You just have to look at it," Gerard smiled a little, "and anyway, art's freeform, there's nothing you have to do, it's just gotta look vaguely decent, hasn't it? Hey, it doesn't even have to look vaguely decent sometimes, it's just art-"

"Okay, calm down," Frank insisted, rolling his eyes as they made their way into room sixty eight B, somehow finding himself buzzing from Gerard's smile, because there was something about Gerard Way, and there was something about the way the two of them just clicked, and the way Gerard instantly made him happy.

There was something here, Frank just wasn't sure quite how to define it yet.

Well, the conscious part of him didn't, because deep down, he knew more than he had ever known anything that Gerard was right.

Right about him.

Right about Max.

Right about most things.

Always had been.

-

hey pals hope u enjoyed!!! if u did votes && comments would be cool lov u !!!