The weird thing was that they'd kind of gotten into a state where what they had was normal. Because they spent time together, even outside of school, even in each other's houses, kissed, fucked, fucking cuddled, had Netflix and chill, everything normal couples do, and yet they were still Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross, and somehow perhaps even in love with one another.

Which was certainly odd.

The headteacher and the deemed worst kid in school, not just fucking, but dating - who would have called that?

Well, Megan was going around telling everybody but it wasn't like anyone believed her, which made it, if anything just amusing for Ryan, because what was technically, fucking legally an illegal and abusive relationship was really anything but, because Brendon cared, hell, he cared more about Ryan than he did the entire school, which wasn't really that hard to accomplish, thinking about it, but the point was, that they mattered one hell of a lot to each other, even if people struggled to see how they could work, they did, and that was that.

People didn't talk about, 'Brenyan', as Megan had dubbed it, like they did 'Frerard', also something Megan believed she'd invented, which was odd due to the fact, that despite very popular belief, Frank and Gerard weren't actually in anyway romantically involved, yet, and Ryan had literally sucked Brendon Urie's cock in his office earlier that day, making him fourteen minutes late to English, which he'd gotten a detention for, and now stood in Mr Urie's office, insisting that he got him out of it, because technically it was Brendon's fault.

"I didn't have to suck your cock, you know?" Ryan reminded him, sat on the end of his desk, meeting his gaze with an oddly constructed, very unbelievable puppy dog eyed look. "I did it out of the kindness of my heart."

"The kindness of your heart?" Brendon scoffed, "you mean, the horniness of your dick?"

"Yeah, whatever, still, I did it because I think you're really hot, Brendon," Ryan pleaded, even going as far as pouting, trashing all dignity he had ever once claimed in favour of not staying after school for half an hour or so, which of course, seriously cut down on the amount of time he could sit around at home and smoke weed and work on this song he'd been writing that totally wasn't about Brendon.

"It's half an hour, Ryan, come on, you haven't been in detention in far too long, I mean, considering the shit you pull, I can't get you out of everything!" Brendon exclaimed, shaking his head, but the truth was, of course, that he could, he just didn't want Ryan to think he could just bullshit his way through everything with no consequences; Brendon wanted him to pass, to get somewhere in life, as unlikely as it may seem to everyone else, he did indeed believe in him.

"Fucking sucks, though, doesn't it?" Ryan rolled his eyes, "I didn't want to get sucked in that way, I mean, you never got me off, so come on, really, that's not fair, you never got me off and now you're making me do detention!"

"Ryan, you have to fucking do it." Brendon leaned back in his chair, wondering just how on earth he'd ever gotten so close to Ryan Ross, of all people.

"Don't kinkshame me, Mr Urie!" Ryan exclaimed, leaving Brendon to look at him like he was indeed utterly mental.

"You what?" Brendon looked up at him in disbelief, "what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm offended. Don't fucking kinkshame me-"

"I'm saying you deserve a detention for being late, how is that-"

"It's your fault I was late. I was sucking you off." Ryan reminded him, stepping closer and pushing at his shoulder a little in order to emphasise his point.

"Maybe you should have made me come faster. Then you wouldn't have been late." Brendon winked at him, watching as Ryan seemed to feel genuine offense.

"It was a fucking good blowjob, you can fuck off. You don't like it quick." Ryan rolled his eyes, "you're a pile of shit. Fucking dare insulting me, when I sucked you off, because I wanted to, fuck you, Brendon-"

"Fine." Brendon exclaimed, moving closer to his laptop, "I'll get you out of that detention, well not really, I'll say you're spending it with me."

"Mmm..." Ryan raised his eyebrows at that, "and why would I do that? Instead of you know? Climbing out your window and walking home."

"What would you want to do at home that you can't do here with me?" Brendon looked up at him, smiling.

Ryan shrugged, blushing a little. "I'm... I'm working on some music... my own music... it was the other day, and I was stoned, but not really stoned, but... yeah... I was..."

"Hey..." Brendon stood up at that, "that's really cool, you know? But what's saying you can't work on it with me? I mean, I was suggesting we could spend the time by me repaying you for earlier, but-"

"Ahh... I just..." Ryan's cheeks flushed a horrible shade of red, "I don't know, I just care about what other people think and I guess, it just makes me nervous, and anyway, I haven't got a guitar right here, so- Maybe we should... just-"

"You do know this school has music rooms, don't you? I know it's shit, but it's not that shit, I mean there's maybe like one and a half guitars, but like- we've got them, that's what counts, isn't it?" Brendon reached for Ryan's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Come on, I want to hear this, even more than I want to suck your cock, and believe me, that's a lot."

Ryan paused for a moment, looking around, "have you got any weed?"

Brendon looked at him for a moment, before reaching for his desk drawer.

"Because, I might be more inclined to go along with your stupid ideas if I'm stoned. Just a little stoned, though, not too stoned, you know?" Ryan smiled, watching as Brendon retrieved a bag of weed from his desk drawer.

"What have you got next? Gym?" Ryan nodded, "yeah, okay, that's a pile of shit, you can stay here and get stoned if you want."

"Oh yeah, because I'm totally gonna pick going to gym over getting stoned with my boyfriend." Ryan rolled his eyes, grabbing the key off the desk and locking the office door behind them, leaving Brendon to sit there with an awkward blush/smile on his face at mention of the word 'boyfriend'.

-

Frank made his way into Gerard's room at lunchtime, closing the door behind him and letting out a sigh before he had even turned to face Gerard, who had gotten up at the sound of the door opening and closing again, and peered around the corner to see Frank to stood there perhaps even a little uncomfortably.

"You okay, Frank?" He called out, causing Frank to spin to face him as he did so.

"Yeah..." Frank let out a sigh, not really telling the truth, but distracting himself from that fact as he brushed his hair away from his face.

Gerard raised his eyebrows: naturally skeptical. "Are you sure about that?"

Frank shook his head, "not really," he admitted, making his way across the room and sitting down in Gerard's chair, behind his desk. He laughed a little as he looked at Gerard's laptop, "still hung up on the art trip, then?"

"Yeah," Gerard nodded, laughing at himself, "course I am, come on, it's got to happen some day, it's like my dream - my fucking dream to take some kids to France, oh god it'd... it'd be wonderful, and I don't even know why I'm saying that."

"Because you're a good person. You want what's best for these kids, even if you're not good at showing it." Frank smiled, leaning back in the chair, and leaving Gerard to lean over the desk as Frank continued to speak. "That makes me feel a bit less crappy now." He admitted.

"You wanna tell me what's up?" Gerard suggested, trying to hide his blush, before moving his laptop off the desk, and climbing up onto it, sitting down with his legs practically dangling into Frank's lap.

"You're sat like you're sixteen or something," Frank laughed at him, shaking his head, "what are you doing?"

"Last time I checked, there was no age restriction on sitting positions." Gerard raised his eyebrows a little: a smile playing on his lips, "but I mean, you stole my chair, so you can't blame me, can you?"

Frank shrugged, "I guess not." He leaned forward a little, looking directly up at Gerard, trying not to think about how his head was pretty much next to Gerard's crotch right now - not that he had any motive to think about that, of course, like that was just nonsense, and he was just stressed and tired - that was it, of course, that had to be it. "Max and I had an argument last night," he let out a sigh, continuing as he noticed the drastic change in Gerard's expression, "no, nothing much happened, and he didn't fucking hit me. I don't know, it's just, I don't know. He was pissed that I stayed at school."

"He's pissed that you have a job and sometimes that job is going to need you stay later?" Gerard rolled his eyes in disbelief, "fuck, he's an idiot, Frank, honestly."

"It wasn't really that," Frank's voice suddenly grew rather quiet as he looked away.

"Then what was it?" Gerard asked, lowering the volume of his voice to match Frank's.

"It was... it was a whole load of shit, I mean... it was you, well not you, just... the fact that I was staying helping you and then that you drove me home, which is just bullshit honestly.... I just I don't know, he's jealous or something, not that there's fucking anything to be jealous of, I just..." Frank trailed off, shaking his head. "Doesn't fucking matter."

"I'm sorry I made him angry with you," Gerard let out a sigh, placing his hand down on Frank's knee reassuringly.

"It's not your fucking fault." Frank snapped, reacting in the way that Gerard least expected him to. "Max is just being an ass. He's just being fucking off with me and it's pissing me off, even though he's got a lot of shit himself and I know that, and I should understand that but I'm getting fucking tired of it, you know that? Especially if he's going to attack you because of it, because you're my best fucking friend, and he can fuck right off if he doesn't like it-" Frank came to a sudden halt, realising just what he'd said, "or something like that, I mean, I... I don't know..."

"It's okay," Gerard smiled at him, "just know you're better than all of this bullshit. I'm not going to tell you what I think, because you, well, I know it'll just create shit between us and neither of us need that."

Frank nodded, spinning around in the chair and leaning back into Gerard's legs, "mmm..."

"What are you doing?" Gerard laughed a little, kicking gently at Frank's back with his legs, before reaching down and playing with his hair a little.

Frank shrugged, "don't know, don't fucking know."

"I'm talking about you spinning around in that chair," Gerard told him, waiting awkwardly for a response in the few moments silence that followed.

"I'm talking about being with Max." Frank admitted with a heavy sigh, not quite able to meet Gerard's gaze, "I'm starting to think you have a point, but I don't want to, I don't want to really fuck things up for him and I just, don't know..."

"It's okay, Frank," Gerard reassured him, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay? Just take it as it goes."

Frank nodded, "he's got one more chance. One more chance to fuck up. Don't let me change my mind about that," he turned to face Gerard at that moment, "promise me that, Gerard?"

The older man nodded, "I won't let you, promise." He smiled, running a hand back through Frank's hair, "just want you to be happy, okay, do whatever you think's best."

"It's just... it'd be so fucking messy, we've been together so many years we're not sure what's his and what's mine anymore, live, who owns our house, for example?" Frank let out a sigh, "neither of us have really got anywhere to go."

"If it comes down to it, I'd be happy for you to stay with me," Gerard said after a moment, holding his breath as he waited for Frank's response.

"Yeah, that'd... that'd work. I wouldn't mind living with you." Frank smiled, "but that's just of course, if this... I mean, nothing's definite."

"I know, Frank, I know." Gerard nodded.

"God, people would really talk if we moved in together, though." Frank exclaimed after a moment, "I think Megan Clifford would honestly experience heart failure."

"All the more reason to do so." Gerard laughed a little, leaving Frank to look at him in disbelief.

"That's horrible, she's not that bad." Frank insisted, shaking his head a little.

"Whatever you say, Frank." Gerard let out a sigh: oddly calm and understanding all of a sudden.

"What happened to stubborn Gerard? What happened to so far up my own ass that I can see out my mouth Gerard?" Frank exclaimed, only half joking.

Gerard shrugged, "that wasn't working for me, not when it comes to you, at least."

Frank sat there in confusion, but honestly, he didn't think he could handle asking what that meant.

-

Ryan laughed a little as Brendon locked the door of the music room behind them.

"What do you think's going to happen here?" He asked, glancing around the room and smiling a little.

Brendon shrugged, "can never be too careful, can you?" He then noticed Ryan's pissed off expression, and let out a, "fine," as he unlocked it, before sitting down on a table, stretching his legs out and resting them up against the back of a chair, and making a point of staring at Ryan's ass as he made his way over to the corner of the room and picked up an acoustic guitar.

"Fuck, this isn't actually broken!" He exclaimed as he lift the strap over his head, "wow, Brendon, something in this school is actually intact, I'm proud of you."

Mr Urie laughed a little, "you're welcome."

Ryan strummed the guitar, grimacing as it let out a noise just as unpleasant as the sound Muddy Warter had made one time last year when she started whining and shaking her hand and claimed she was having a panic attack for attention.

"Course it's not in tune, though." He laughed a little, making his way across the room and closer to Brendon, sitting down on the table opposite him, and plucking at the strings gently in an attempt to tune the thing.

"Course it's not. We're not the fucking Sydney Opera House over here, Ryan." Brendon rolled his eyes, smiling, as he watched the way Ryan's fingers moved over the instrument and tried not to die, thinking about Ryan's fingers in a far more inappropriate manner.

"I don't think they even have guitars over there." Ryan looked up, grinning, "I think, it's you know, opera."

"Alright, calm down," Brendon shrugged it off, "thought you were supposed to be stupid, you know, not ever going to class and shit?" Ryan just looked up at him, slightly offended. "You're not like that, though, and that's why I fucking hate it, because you're clever, aren't you? And you're talented-"

"And you want a blowjob." Ryan finished for him, continuing to tune the guitar, "not that I don't appreciate the ego boost, but I know what's going on here, Brendon."

"No." Brendon shook his head, "I don't want a blowjob, I want to hear you play, and I want you to recognise your worth as a person and not just a sex object to me. It's weird, Ryan, you don't appreciate yourself at all, but yet you seem to be so confident."

"There's not much to faking confidence." Ryan let out with a sigh. "Just stop giving a shit and speak louder than everyone else."

Brendon thought for a moment, watching as Ryan's fingers continued to move over the instrument: it was beautiful and he hadn't even started playing yet. "What happened?" He asked, causing Ryan to look up and meet his gaze.

"What do you mean?" Ryan was suddenly very quiet and very conscious of himself.

"What happened?" Brendon repeated, locking his gaze into Brendon's, "what happened to make you feel like you had to fake your confidence and fuck up your education?"

Ryan looked down, shrugging, "nothing much, I don't know."

"Ryan," Brendon narrowed his eyes a little, "don't lie to me: I know something's up. You don't just get like that for no reason-"

"Well maybe I do!" Ryan exclaimed, suddenly raising his voice again, before shaking his head and muttering a quick, "sorry."

"It's okay," Brendon reassured him, wondering if it was perhaps better not to press it, and just let Ryan tell him when he felt comfortable.

"My dad left when I was thirteen." Ryan stopped playing to look up and meet Brendon's eyes. "Cheated on my mum and fucked off with this younger woman and wanted nothing to do with either of us anymore. It just started as pretending that I was fine, because I didn't want to upset my mum - she already had enough to deal with, and I didn't have good friends, and I didn't want any of them to judge me for crying or fucking anything like that."

"I'm sorry, Ryan-"

"It's fine, I don't give a shit about him anymore," Ryan told him rather blankly, "and I mean that, I just, I don't know, I'm caught up in pretending I'm something I'm not - it's whatever. I've never told anyone this before...." he trailed off, "not even Megan."

"Why would you tell Megan?" Brendon laughed a little, "you can't trust her to keep a secret."

Ryan nodded, "of course." He looked up at Brendon, "I can trust you, though."

"Yeah," Brendon smiled at him, "you can. Now come on, play something," he gestured to the guitar, "I didn't get you out of detention just because I love you."

Ryan laughed at that, because he knew for sure that it was a totally fucking lie.

-

hey pals !!! hope u enjoyed this chapter haha get fucking ready for the next one because thats when the real plot (tm) starts !!! vote & comment if u want - it'd be rly lovely. lov u !!