It was early the next morning in Paris, and everyone in the world wanted to know just what had happened between two very important people, who had gone through a certain unexpected, but long anticipated series of events not that long ago. There were unanswered questions, even for the two of them but they were content in perhaps not being entirely sure as to what was going on; the bond they felt between one another was strong enough to guide them through any obstacles they may face in what lay before them.

There was no way around the fact that what lay before them was a whole new kind of unknown, that left them in a fit of nerves and worries, some of which were perhaps irrational and unsolicited, but made quite the point out of their presence nonetheless. They would never define themselves as people who lived their lives in the way that others might dictate or in the image of the public eye, and cared to abide by the rules set down by judgemental looks and hushed whispers behind hands in speculation of just what had occurred between them.

It was just the fact that there was no doubt about the fact that if this ever came out, and inevitably, with time, it would, as all things did, apart from Larry, as Megan Clifford seemed to be vocal about, but for once, Larry was not the real secret hidden meaning behind the matter at hand. It was instead the worry of how people would regard them differently as people after they came to understand what there was between them, and how neither of them much wanted that, but it was unavoidable, and they knew deep down in their hearts that it was always better to put yourself before the speculations of others.

It was their own lives that they were living, and within them they were free to make what others might deem 'bad' or 'stupid' decisions for people that weren't 'worth' it, and would be 'gone in a year or so'. What the two of them had was beyond words and the understanding of other people, and it was perhaps only something that the two had fully began to comprehend for themselves amidst the events of the recent past.

And with that in mind, it came to be that upon that early morning in Paris, and late night in New Jersey, it was the time to be reckless and live for yourself and the way you truly felt inside for other people, no matter what the rest of the world might think.

Therefore, he finally found it within himself to look himself over in the mirror, and admit that he was indeed doing this, but know that it was for the right reasons, because Mr Urie wasn't bailing Bert McCracken out of jail just because he felt sorry for him, or because he wanted to hide the fact that there had been a homeless man living inside the school unnoticed for five years, because that was certainly likely to put many parents off sending their kids to Bertfield, and thinking about it, they were both very good reasons and if Brendon didn't have others then he likely would have gone for it on the basis of those alone. After all, it was also just something to do on a Tuesday evening when your underage, stoner boyfriend, who totally wasn't a student at your school, was away in France on a trip that existed solely because some fucking gay emos had blackmailed you into it.

However, Mr Urie just couldn't deny that in those five years, he and Bert had found something special between them, in those late nights when Brendon had thought that he was simply hallucinating due to how high he was, because he had been so fucking narrow minded to completely dismiss the possibility of anyone ever living in the walls, like seriously, looking back on it, it was majorly problematic.

If their friendship wasn't enough, which it was, of course, then Mr Urie found that he still, at least owed something to Bert on the basis that he had helped him name the school that one night, even though Brendon had never known it until recently. And of course, it just didn't feel the same in his office without the knowledge that there was Bert just a few metres away, listening from the walls. Well, thinking about it, Brendon had never actually known that before, but now he did he certainly could recognise the fact that his life was missing something colossally important.

Like seriously, it was that important to him that a fucking owl couldn't replace it, and if Brendon was being honest with himself, he'd always dreamed of running a school and inheriting an owl from a homeless man who had lived in the walls of the building for five years and then making that owl the school mascot and naming it Hazy G, after the lead role in his theatrical adaption of a popular 'book' by 'renowned' 'author' John Green, you know, ever since he was a child. It had always held a special place in his heart, but it quickly became apparent that Bert meant so much more to him than this childhood dream, and in that revelation, he knew instantly that Bert McCracken would make the perfect new addition to the Geography department at Bertfield High School.

He'd of course have to give him a makeover so the students wouldn't immediately recognise him as the homeless man that had been dragged out of the school by the bomb disposal unit last week, but he considered that to be a fun bonding activity between the two of them, and in fact, something that he even found himself looking forward to.

It had been several days since Ryan had sucked his dick, okay?

But of course, he knew that he shouldn't get ahead himself already - the makeover would come after he stole sufficient money from the school to bail Bert out of jail with, because due to the absolutely insanely fair and rational American law system, that was something he could do.

Thinking about it, which was something that Brendon found himself doing, you know, to make a change, technically stealing money from the school wasn't really stealing, because it was his school, wasn't it? Well, it wasn't, he just sort of ran it, but that was just a technicality, and a valid point to bring up in court if he ever found himself incarcerated for what he was about to do, which was really just a risk that he was prepared to take to employ Bert McCracken as the well qualified and absolutely phenomenal Geography teacher that he knew he would be.

It was definitely sort of his school, so definitely sort of his money. He was pretty sure at least. It was like how Modest Management managed One Direction, and well they didn't technically own them as people, but they definitely had the power over them to construct the great scheme and elaborate lie that was babygate.

So it was with babygate in his mind, that Brendon accepted that was he was about to do was, at least in perspective, morally fantastic - much better than hiding the beautiful and life changing relationship between Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, at least. Because, honestly, hiding the Larry truth might as well have been written down as the eleventh forbidden commandment on the slabs of stone that God gave to Moses, as written in the Bible. It was also written on the corridor outside the R.E. classroom, which happened to be really close to the nurse's office, which was the only reason why Brendon knew that.

Anyway, that didn't matter anymore, because Brendon had already 'stolen' the money from his school, and climbed back out of his office window and made his great escape to his car.

Really, he didn't need to do that - it was his school, he had the keys, he could just fucking walk in, but he found that it was just more fun and dramatic that way, and he was missing Ryan really, and maybe bailing some homeless guy out of jail was a bit Ryan, and maybe Ryan might feel left out when he found out that Brendon had done this without him, but no, Brendon soon so the error in his thought: breaking a guy out of jail was much more Ryan's style. Whereas, Brendon had the sophistication and class of theft and fraud, which was just something else entirely.

Maybe it was just the fact that Ryan had once climbed out of his office window and ran across the carpark when Brendon was supposed to be supervising him once, and that was how he'd accidentally taken him on a date one time, and that was just a beautiful memory of their relationship together. Brendon thought for a moment, realising that there was a time when he had worked at this school and Ryan Ross had just been this weird kid that set fire to shit - those had been dark times, well not dark times, more like bright times, because Ryan was constantly setting things on fire.

Brendon missed Ryan, but didn't we all? He sat in his car for a moment, sipping the caramel macchiato he'd bought from Starbucks earlier that evening. He'd tried to pretend that he hadn't bought it for weeb related reasons, he then pulled himself together and accepted that being a weeb was definitely a lesser evil in light of the theft he had just committed, and allowed himself to listen to BTS in peace.

He wasn't sure where the fact that he was a closet weeb had come from - likely just Ryan's absence. He'd just heard one BTS song once and that had stuck in his head when he'd come to making his Starbucks order and he'd gotten a bit emotional since then.

Anyway, he decided to stop being a low key weeb which was a hard decision for him and decided instead to honour Ryan by playing what was undoubtedly their song as he drove to the police station to get the Bertfield students their much needed and already highly valued Geography teacher. And of course, that song, that symbolised Brendon and Ryan's relationship so perfectly, was of course, 'Milk by The 1975'.

Wait, no, Brendon had accidentally put the wrong song on - how could he possibly have fucked up like this? He knew he had to pull himself together especially since Bert was relying on him to save him from police custody and bring him the gift that was a teaching job at Bertfield High School. Like, honestly, it was such a pure and heartfelt gift that it made Brendon want to travel back in time just so he could be the fourth wise man following the star to Bethlehem to see the new born baby Jesus, and give him the gift that was a teaching job at Bertfield.

To be honest, thinking about it logically, Jesus Christ would be a great addition to the Religious Education department, which really wasn't much of a department as it consisted of one teacher who really had no idea what he was going on about, but at least they had a department, because as everyone knows, it's the thought that counts.

Like how, Mr Urie never actually did fulfill his legal responsibilities as a teacher, but he definitely thought about doing so, so really, he meant well, and everything was fine. It's the thought that counts.

Anyway, he eventually managed to put on the right song, which was his and Ryan's song: 'Perfect by One Direction'. He found that as he listened to the lyrics, he just couldn't help but relate them to his and Ryan's situation, because they had the same secret love as Larry did, and Perfect was obviously Larry as fuck, and therefore, Brenyan as fuck. Brenyan was what Megan had insisted was their ship name, and Brendon knew not to argue with Megan Clifford by this point.

Mr Urie had to admit to himself however that he was becoming quite a Dark Larrie of his own accord, but, you did have to admit to yourself that Larry was pretty fucking gay.

-

Of course, Larry wasn't the only thing that was pretty fucking gay as Gerard and Frank had very recently found out, and that what really was incredibly fucking gay was their feelings for one another, and what really was incredibly fucking stupid was the fact that it had taken them so long to come to that kind of conclusion with one another.

It was early that morning: late enough so that the sun began to stream in through the windows, but early enough that getting up and doing something with the day ahead was the last thing on their minds. Frank kind of couldn't stop smiling; he hadn't been able to ever since he'd woken up and see Gerard lying next to him, and came to accept that everything that had happened last night was more than just a dream.

They hadn't done more than just kissed, but there'd been a lot of attempts in regard to talking about their feelings, and they'd come to some sort of suitably homosexual conclusion and gone to sleep, and Gerard had found himself just lying there, Frank pressed into his side, likely asleep as Gerard lay still very much awake: mind unable to quieten down in light of it at all. He'd found himself thinking and trying to remember the last time he'd ever had anything like this with anyone, and had found that the truth of it all was that he hadn't, not for a very long time now, and not like this, and it was with that, that Gerard knew, despite what could possibly happen from that point onwards, that what he and Frank would have between them would be a whole new kind of special.

"Morning." Gerard muttered, turning over in bed and raising his eyebrows at the way Frank was already sat mostly upright: eyes fixated on the window, and the view of the world outside, and perhaps there would be something just so cliched and romantic about it all, if they had a proper view of the Eiffel Tower, and not just a shitty cheap hotel ten miles away that was willing to take in twenty school kids, because there was only ever the best facilities on the premium quality Bertfield High School trips.

"Morning." Frank pulled his gaze towards Gerard, who lay with the blankets wrapped around him on his side, gazing up at Frank with a weird kind of lovestruck look in his eyes - the kind of one that gave Frank all kinds of butterflies in ways that he'd even imagined possible before. "Sleep well?" He continued to ask, stretching his legs out and kicking at the mattress slightly.

"Mmm." Gerard gave a nod in response, sitting up slightly, and seeming to cling to Frank for support as he did so. "Yeah. How about you?" He inquired, moving under Frank's arm and into his side.

Frank couldn't help but blush, and of course, smile: smile like he'd never smiled before. "Yeah." He agreed, and the both of them knew that they were largely disinterested in small talk, but so very focused on the way their lips moved as they spoke, and how those lips had been the very same lips that they had kissed with last night. "I did."

Gerard let out a sigh, pulling his eyes around their hotel room, and shaking his head because there was absolutely no way that they had just coincidentally ended up in the very same hotel room, but he definitely found that he was just nothing more than thankful that Lindsey had been less than discreet in her attempts to discreetly get them together.

"You know what would be nice..." Frank began, trailing off as the end of his sentence seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving him to grasp oddly with his hand at the air, perhaps as if in search of it.

"What would be nice?" Gerard asked, not at all bothered to guess, because it was far too early in the morning for that kind of shit.

"A smoke." Frank finished, gazing longingly out of the window. "Why do we have to be in a fucking hotel room and not our house?" Frank soon found himself overly conscious of how he'd said 'our house', because technically it was Gerard's house, and he just lived there, but Gerard didn't seem at all fazed by what had Frank's heart thudding loudly in his chest.

"Because we needed Lindsey to very 'discreetly' put us in the same room and slightly manipulative us into telling each other how we feel." Gerard let out a laugh, shrugging vaguely. "I kind of feel like maybe, morally I should be angry with her, but I'm really not. I don't know, I feel kind of euphoric, like I can't ever be angry with anyone or anything else ever again."

Frank grinned, pausing for a moment to really take in what Gerard had said, before continuing, "so I'm that much of a good kisser, then?" He let his lips fold up into smirk. "We kiss a few times and suddenly you're so at peace with the world that you're physically incapable of feeling angry?"

"Fuck off." Gerard shook his head in disbelief, unable to stop himself from blushing, because in all honesty, Frank wasn't that far off the truth - it just wasn't solely the kiss but the whole ordeal itself, and how Gerard seemed to find his whole world suddenly turned on its head, but how he found that for the first time in his life, he was just absolutely fine with that.

"Seems like you're pretty angry now." Frank couldn't help but smirk at him, "so, Gerard, what is the truth?"

"Fuck off." Gerard rolled his eyes, burying his face in Frank's side, and finding his whole body suddenly so overwhelmed with fucking butterflies that he kind of didn't know what to do with himself.

"Wait..." Frank trailed off, having replayed what Gerard had said earlier back through his head, focusing far too much on the whole 'euphoric' thing to really take in what he'd said as a whole. "So, LIndsey put us in the same room on purpose?"

"Did you seriously think this was accidental?" Gerard exclaimed, being to laugh a little, as Frank's expression dropped and he appeared as if everything he'd ever known was a lie. "Come on, Frankie, why would it just be that we have to share a room?"

"But- no!" Frank insisted, perfectly prepare to believe that, yeah, Gerard was right, and that did sound like something Lindsey might do, now that he thought about it, but he found himself so very insistent that he protect his pride and argue his point, his wrong point, but his arguable point, nonetheless. "Lindsey and Brian had to share, so-"

Gerard scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, "did she seriously tell you that, I'm-"

"Yeah, she did, what are you-" Frank was cut off, his eyes widening in disbelief as he suddenly came to what had to be very important decision, and was likely even a pivotal point, not just in this school trip, but his life, and in the matter of shaping him as a human being. "She lied to me!"

"She did." Gerard assured him, laughing a little. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like someone's just killed your entire family, she did lie to you, yes, but come on, if she didn't then do you think this would have happened? She kind of did us a favour, really."

"Like fuck did she do us a favour." Frank shook his head in disbelief. Gerard just gave him a look. "Okay, maybe, she sort of, kind of helped us a bit, but like, it's not like she's our lord and saviour or anything!" Frank seemed suddenly very defensive.

Gerard grinned, "we should bake her a cake or something." He went on to clarify, "when we get back home, like a... 'Thank You for Manipulating Us Into Admitting Our Feelings For One Another' cake? That sounds catchy, doesn't it?"

Frank rolled his eyes, "totally." He paused for a moment, taking the time just to logically think about the two of them actually baking a fucking cake. "Also, how would we manage a competent cake, I can't bake for shit."

"I'll bake it." Gerard offered, finding just how much this all seemed to emotionally affect Frank rather amusing. "You can, you know, supervise, and like... look at my ass, or whatever."

Frank snorted, his cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. "How dare you suggest that I would abuse my duty as supervisor and trusted assistant to the baking process to stare at your fucking ass?"

Gerard shrugged, "I don't know. Just an observation."

"An observation?" Frank scoffed, "what? Do you have eyes out your ass or something?"

"You're an idiot." Gerard told him: smiling wider than ever before. "You're an idiot."

"Don't be so rude to me!" Frank protested, gasping at him in mock horror, "I'm absolutely shocked and disappointed that you'd possibly be so rude."

"Are you now?" Gerard raised his eyebrows, finding that he didn't fully believe every word Frank was saying, just for some reason. "You know..." He began, his mind drifting off to the topic of the day ahead, "are we going to be like... discreet about this, or like, I don't know...?" He didn't bother to finish his sentence, and instead just looked up at Frank like he held all the answers to everything in the world.

"I don't know either, to be honest." Frank admitted, wondering just how everyone could possibly react, but soon coming to conclude that the majority of the people they knew would hardly even be surprised to the extent that they'd barely even bat an eyelash. "Wait..." He trailed off, lips folding up into a smirk as an idea began to take shape within his head.

"Oh Jesus." Gerard shook his head in disbelief: immediately recognising the look in Frank's eyes.

"What?" Frank retorted, making quite the show out of faking offense. "What do you mean?"

"That's the bad idea look." Gerard shook his head in disbelief, "I know you. Come on, tell me then."

"Thought you said it was a bad idea." Frank even went as far as to pout. "Sounds like you don't really want to hear it at all, just make fun of me for it, and I'm not having any of that."

"Frank, stop being a dick and tell me." Gerard gave him a light shove.

"Thought you liked dick." Frank smirked, leaving Gerard's patience to grow suddenly thinner. "Alright, fine." He gave into the look in his eyes, "the 'bad' idea is, casually telling people, but like making everyone swear never to tell Megan, and so eventually literally everyone in the whole school knows except Megan, like don't you think that'd be hilarious."

"You are one evil fuck." Gerard could only laugh in response. "Evil."

"And then get everyone else to pretend that they don't think we'd ever get together, so Megan's like 'oh my god guys, look at them', and everyone's like 'get over it, Megan, they'll never get together'." Frank's eyes grew wider, "do you not think this is literally the best idea that I've ever had?"

"It's not probable, come on." Gerard insisted, "I mean, hate to burst your evil genius bubble, but someone will tell Megan."

Frank thought for a moment, desperate to save what he deemed as the best idea that he had ever had. "You know what?"

"What?" Gerard found himself genuinely interested to find out just how Frank saw best to fix this very pressing issue at hand.

"Ryan Ross." Frank grinned, looking at Gerard like he had just changed the entire world.

"Yes?" Gerard was still largely unconvinced.

"If Ryan Ross can ensure that Megan believes her ex-boyfriend is the Zodiac Killer, a literal world famous serial killer, then he can help us make her believe that... 'Frerard'... isn't real."

"Don't ever say Frerard again." Gerard found himself physically cringing.

"Okay..." Frank trailed off, "as long as, you let me do this. I'll never say the 'F word' again if you let me crush Megan Clifford's hopes and dreams."

Gerard rolled his eyes, "fine." He shook his head, not at all sure why he'd found himself agreeing to it, but maybe he was just slightly biased in Frank's direction. "You're a horrible person."

"Megan writes fanfiction online about herself and Michael Clifford."

"That doesn't make you a horrible person."

"The terrible quality of that writing is a literal insult to all literature ever, and in the eyes of, me, an English teacher, she is the Adolf Hitler of literature-"

"Frank." Gerard shook his head, laughing a little, "I think now is when you shut the fuck up and stop, don't you think?"

And when words didn't seem to have much of an affect on him, Gerard found that he just had to resort to kissing him, which was of course, a much more terrible alternative.

-

"Thanks, I guess." Bert sat awkwardly in the passenger seat of Brendon Urie's car in the parking lot outside of the police station.

"I guess?" Brendon raised his eyebrows, coming dangerously close to being genuinely offended by the lack of passion behind his words, because seriously, he'd committed a genuine crime... a theft... to get Bert out of jail and all he got was a 'thanks, I guess'?

"I mean..." Bert trailed off, not entirely sure how best to express the absolute whirlwind of his emotions he felt in that moment. "I was a homeless man, and then you called the bomb disposal unit who stopped me from living in the walls of your school and arrested me, and now you bailed me out of jail and now I'm still homeless. You've not really done anything here except cause an inconvenience for everyone involved."

"I didn't call them!" Brendon seemed rather horrified at the notion. "If I suspected that there was a bomb in my school, Bertfield High School - an absolutely outstanding school of education and being outstanding and learning, and did I mention that it was outstanding?" Brendon paused a pulled a business card out of his pocket.

"Brendon Urie, headteacher at Bertfield High School - Outstanding." He raised his eyebrows at the serious 'graphic design is my passion'-esque design of the whole card, but then again, it was alright considering that the 'PicCollage' logo in the corner made it evident just where he'd made it. "You can't just call your own school outstanding and officially make it outstanding."

"Well..." Brendon trailed off, snatching his business card back because he did not fucking need that negativity in his life and on his very professional, outstanding business cards. "I just did so, looks like you're wrong. Anyway, if I suspected there to be a bomb in my school, then I would fucking go in and disarm it myself because I'm a badass bitch and I don't need... no... bomb... disposal..."

"Please stop." Bert found himself physically cringing in response. "So was there actually a bomb?"

"No." Brendon shook his head, even going so far as to look disappointed, because if he worked in the bomb disposal unit he really would be, because you come out here expecting a bomb and all you get is a homeless man and an owl - typical. "I think one of the students did."

Bert paused for a moment, wondering how best to phrase this, but then realising that this guy had just handed him a business card he'd made on PicCollage so really there was no chance in hell that he had the right to be criticised in that moment.

"I don't know how best to say this, but..." He trailed off, locking eyes with Brendon, and things got a little bit awkward for a second, so he turned away slightly - stared at his colossal fucking forehead instead. "Can I come back and live in the walls of your school, because I'm still kind of homeless? Well, not kind of homeless, I am actually homeless." He found himself realising just how pathetic he sounded so very quickly. "I just thought it was polite to ask, you know? Let you know I was there so it wouldn't be a horrible surprise or something."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Brendon sat there for a moment, "you really are a very nice person - how did you end up being homeless?" He wasn't sure why exactly, but Brendon suddenly felt incredibly concerned for Bert's situation in life.

"Drugs." Bert gave a shrug, perhaps all too nonchalant.

"Oh, ok." Brendon nodded, pausing for a moment, wondering just where the line between 'fine' and 'too personal' was. "Which drugs? Just wondering."

"Bit of everything really. Mostly cocaine. I was a drug dealer for a bit, after I got fired from Walmart, and now I've been jobless for the past five years." He gave a shrug, seeming to not at all be fazed by this.

"Why did you stop being a drug dealer? Was it because you found everything you need inside the walls of the outstanding Bertfield High School?" Brendon threw in a cheeky little bit of spon there.

"I didn't really stop, being honest." Bert smiled as he looked back on some of his fonder memories. "I had this hoodie and I'd put it on so I'd cover my face and then I'd climb out of the walls by the Geography classrooms and then I'd go out on the school field and sell people weed. I stole the shit you confiscated and sold it back to people a lot of the time. I was a really friendly drug dealer, you know, because I also took any form of food as payment, except if it's lemon flavoured because who the fuck likes lemon flavoured sweets."

Brendon nodded, realising that he should maybe have been a little bit more concerned with what Bert had just told him than he actually was. "So you're very familiar with the area around Geography?"

"Yeah..." Bert gave a nod, "I can show you how to get inside the walls, if you want. You could use that space as like a hide out spot incase there was ever a school shooting, because you know, we are in America."

"No, I'm- I mean, that's a great idea! What a kind, thoughtful, innovative man you are!" Brendon reached across and awkwardly patted Bert on the back, "which is exactly why I'd like to offer you a job as a Geography teacher at the outstanding school - Bertfield High School. I'd offer you a business card but I figure you know the place, having lived inside it for five years. You can also have your owl back, if you insist."

"You can keep the owl, I mean, it's not really my owl, it just sorted of existed in the same space as me for a while and we formed a bond on the basis of that." Bert gave a nod, taking some time to think over Brendon's job offer. "You know I don't know the first fucking thing about Geography?"

"You just said that you're familiar with it!" Brendon exclaimed, shaking his head, "come on, if you know how to get there you've already conquered half of it. How many new teachers already know exactly where their classroom is before they've even started the job? Exactly, none. Therefore, hiring you is like a set up. You're overqualified."

"I literally didn't even take Geography at school-"

"Well, it'll be a fun shared learning experience between you and the students, come on, please, take the job, it'll make me feel guilty if you don't." Brendon began to plead with him.

"If I take the job can I sleep in school overnight?" Bert got to the point, because that was really the only reason he'd ever want to have a teaching job at the kind of school that let a homeless man live in the walls for five years, and then asked him to be a teacher, and Bert didn't even finish high school himself, like he'd be teaching people who were more qualified to do his job than he was.

"Of course you can, I'm sure we could even get some builders into like renovate the insides of the walls if you want, and are you sure that you don't want your owl back?"

"It's fine." Bert insisted with a smile, "when do I start my job?"

"Tomorrow." Brendon went in and high fived him - it was the most awkward and unwanted high five ever experienced in anyone's life ever. "You're taking over from a teacher that left yesterday because she didn't feel safe teaching at all school where the bomb disposal unit had to be called in, which is fucking stupid, because there wasn't even a bomb."

"Okay." Bert shrugged: feeling entirely indifferent. "Sounds cool."

"Wait-" Brendon stopped, reaching out and placing his hand on Bert's chest, "sorry," he pulled away, "I don't know why that happened but it did, anyway, there is one condition to this Geography teaching offer of a lifetime, and that's that you get a new hairstyle because otherwise people are going to recognise you as that weird homeless man, which you're not, because you have a home - Bertfield. It's home to all students and staff, usually not literally, but there's a first for everything."

"You want me to dye my hair?" Bert looked at him in disbelief. "Do you want me to get plastic surgery as well?"

"No, just cut your hair and dye it, we'll give you a whole new look, and then you can like emphasis a slightly more southern accent for like a week or two and it'll be totally fine." Brendon assured him, "this will be totally fine, promise, trust me, I'm Brendon Urie, headteacher of Bertfield High School - it's outstanding. I know what I'm doing. We can go to Walmart like right now and buy some hair dye and I'll do it all for you."

"That's very generous of you." Bert had to admit it, because it was, and just leaned back in his seat and accepted his future as a Geography teacher at Bertfield High School.... - outstanding.

"I am a generous and outstanding person, like Bertfield High School is. Bertfield High School - outstanding." Brendon was very persistent in providing spon for his school. "Also do you mind if we listen to Mind Of Mine because I literally deleted everything else from my music library because I love Zayn Malik so much."

Bert thought that it was probably best not to disagree. "Yeah, it's fine."

"I really love Zayn." Brendon let out a dreamy sigh as they finally drove out of the parking lot after about twenty minutes. "You know the Pillowtalk music video?" Bert didn't, having lived inside the walls of a school for five years, but he nodded nevertheless. "It's a literal work of art, like I genuinely feel like the Pillowtalk music video has the power to change the world, and it's that which inspires me to keep on teaching and inspiring young students like the Pillowtalk music video is inspiring me."

"I'm sure you're inspiring lots of students, Brendon." Bert assured him through the method of, well, lying.

"Thank you, Bert." Brendon seemed genuinely touched by Bert's words, and that should have made him feel guilty for lying, but the thing was that it didn't. "I'm sure you'll inspire just as many students too. I mean, really, Geography is the most inspiring subject of all. I mean mountains, man, mountains."

Bert nodded, understanding very little more about Geography other than the fact that mountains existed. "Yeah, man." He let out a very geographical sigh. "Geography - mountains."

"I fucking knew you were the perfect man for the job, and I was right, wasn't I?" Brendon grinned, seeming all too proud of himself for someone who'd just hired a totally unqualified homeless man.

Bert thought it was best not to respond but just to smile and nod.

-

"It happened." Lindsey took one look between Gerard and Frank as she sat down to breakfast that morning. "It happened." There was no questioning tone to her voice; she was nothing less than certain.

Frank wasn't exactly sure how or when she'd come to this kind of revelation, and just how the fuck she'd read that off them in one look, like how fucking gay did they look?

"You what-" Gerard spluttered out, nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee he'd had before Lindsey had sat down with them.

"It happened." Lindsey repeated very clearly, and much more calm and collected in regards to the situation than someone like Megan Clifford would be. Of course, Frank was confident enough in his plan that this was a situation that Megan Clifford would never have to do with. "You two. Come on, I can fucking tell. You've lost that awkward kind of unsure look, and you won't stop staring at each other and smiling. It's kind of obvious."

"How obvious?" Frank immediately found himself concerned with the matter of keeping this secret, at least from Megan.

"Not excessively, but for someone who's been looking out for the way you two look at each other to try and hint at you to get your shit together," She looked between the two once more, "it's kind of easy to see. How did it even happen in the end?"

"I thought you'd told him." Gerard admitted, looking a little embarrassed as he looked between Lindsey and Frank, "so I kind of started frantically apologising for everything I thought he knew, which he didn't, and well... yeah..." He found himself blushing as Frank couldn't help but grin.

"It was kind of cute really." Frank added, resting his head on one hand.

"You're kind of cute really." Gerard grinned across at Frank, "really cute, you know. Not kind of cute - really cute."

"Shut up." Frank buried his face in his hands: blushing like hell.

"That was kind of disgusting. You're so... don't you dare get all sickly and coupley over me." Lindsey groaned in disbelief, leaving Frank and Gerard with little more to do than giggle in response.

"We dare." Gerard looked up, smirking. "I'll get as sickly as I want." He turned to Frank and his smile only widened, "in fact, I make a promise to be as gross and coupley as I physically can be."

"Jesus Christ." Lindsey threw her head down into her hands. "I regret this all. So much."

"What's this?" Chantal seemed to appear out of practically nowhere, pulling Lindsey's head up away from her hands, "what have you said to her you horrible people?" She shook her head at Gerard and Frank in disbelief. Really she shouldn't have made it excessively obvious that she was just friends with Lindsey and Gerard, especially where the other students could see, but it was Bertfield High School, no gave a fuck, and of course, unbeknownst to them, back in New Jersey, Mr Urie had just hired a homeless drug dealer to be the new Geography teacher.

"We haven't said anything." Gerard told her, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

"Look at them." Lindsey tapped at Chantal's shoulder and gestured her to the two of them. "Look."

"What? Oh, fuck-" Her eyes widened and she turned back to Lindsey, "you're fucking- it's not... you're fucking, like literally? Oh my god, fucking finally you fucking idiots!"

"You said the word fucking like six times in a like ten word sentence there." Frank, of course, had to comment on what was important there.

"Yes and you've eyefucked each other six times in the space of ten word sentence so shut the fuck up." Chantal shook her head in disbelief, before she turned back to Lindsey. "Was it the shared room thing, do you think?"

"Likely." Lindsey gave a nod, glancing back to Gerard and Frank. "Very likely."

"See, I told you." Chantal fucking high fived her, before turning to Gerard and Frank, "you have me to thank. My idea - my genius," and with that, she walked off.

"Have you been fucking plotting this?" Gerard retorted, watching Chantal walk away before focusing his attention back to Lindsey. "I can't believe this."

"I don't know what you're angry about here - you're the one getting laid now."

Gerard paused for a moment, seemingly ready to say something back, but instead just gave a shrug and a nod. "Yeah, alright, you've got a point."

-

hey pals I'm dead vote and comment if u want lov u

this chapters kind of shit but i literally feel like shit rn so like I'm sorry i just want death and then theres this stupid part of me that gets used to writing 10k+ words chapters that thinks that 6.8k words isn't long enough for a chapter and I'm like whats going on