"Of course you're here." Frank jumped at the sound of Jamia's voice, not only did every nerve in his body turn on end, but he felt himself physically move away from Gee also. It wasn't as if they were even doing anything particularly noteworthy, it was really just the look Frank and Jamia shared that explained everything.

"You want a smoke?" Gee asked, awkwardly offering up his box of Marlboro in some form of distraction from the fact that he was sat on his bed with her seventeen year old best friend.

"I'm good, had one on the way here." She answered the older boy in a calm tone before turning to Frank and practically channelling Satan himself through her words. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing, Frank Iero? Like there's the face value of this situation, and then there's Mikey and Ray and the fact that you've got a detention tomorrow, also the school called your mum so she's worried as to where the fuck you are, and it's not as if I could've told her you were skipping school to fuck a cross dresser- sorry, Gee... I..."

"It's fine." He smiled in response, far too distracted by the fact that he'd just been referred to as Frank Iero's boyfriend, which was something he was far too okay with.

"He's not my boyfriend and we didn't fuck, Jamia. We-" Frank began, trying to explain the situation to his friend whilst trying not to freak the fuck out because his mum was definitely going to at least consider grounding him, and sneaking out was always such a fucking effort.

"You what?" Jamia let out a sigh, sitting down on the bed between the two of them. "Fucking hormonal teenage boys, man."

"Actually, I'm twenty five." Gee piped up, he wasn't sure for what reason other than childishly proving a point. Frank however was rather taken aback by that fact, as it really began to sink in that he was twenty five, one of his stepdads had been twenty five when his mum married him, fuck.

"My mum married a twenty five year old once." Frank suddenly found himself speaking aloud before he could stop himself, and just turned a horrible shade of red. Thankfully Gee was in hysterical laughter, falling back against the bed, and for Frank, Jamia felt like a real fucking cockblock right now.

"The one from Thailand? Wasn't he like pagan or something?" Jamia asked as Gee slowly pulled himself back up from the foetal position on the bed.

"Buddhist." Frank corrected her, shrugging slightly and reaching for Gee's packet of Marlboro.

"You're going to get lung cancer at this rate, Iero." She rolled her eyes and shook her head in a manner of almost maternal disappointment. "Also, pass me one."

"Hypocrite." Frank declared as he passed her the box. "So how pissed is my mum on a scale of one to ten?" He threw the words casually into the air.

"Just turn on your phone and fucking call her - your mum's cool, she should be fine. It's seriously Mikey you should be worried about, Pete's told him you've run off to join a Mexican gang or something. School are pissed but you'll just get detention, that's all." Jamia rolled her words off casually, until she suddenly came to realise just who she'd mentioned Mikey in front of. "Fuck.."

"We talked, Jamia. He knows all of that." Frank explained as Gee blushed, taking the packet of Marlboro and lighting his own.

"And you're okay with that?" She turned to Gee, who appeared just a little flustered to be addressed quite so directly regarding the subject of his brother.

"Yeah, it's just Frank, he understands, and no one's ever done that before..." He let out a sigh, meeting Frank's eyes momentarily as he placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it with the lighter he retrieved form his pocket.

"Fucking hormonal teenagers, I told you both." Jamia sighed, getting up and only then taking notice of the leather miniskirt Gee was wearing. "I like the skirt." She commented and Gee hit her with the biggest smile she'd ever seen, because really, he'd been needing the confidence boost for a good few minutes now.

"Thanks."

"Right, come on, Frankie, you've got to call your mum before she gets the police involved and try and convince Mikey Way that you're not in a Mexican gang." She let out a sigh, gesturing towards the younger boy, whose attention was rather obviously fixated upon Gee.

"She's right, Frankie, look, hey, I'll uhh... give you my number, okay?" Gee offered, placing his cigarette between his lips and reaching for a sharpie on the bedside table. He grabbed Frank's arm, scribbling a series of digits onto the slightly tanned flesh he'd exposed by rolling up his sleeve. "There you go," He rolled the sleeve down as he finished. "Text me later, Frankie. I wish you the best of luck." 

And that was what kept a stupidly smug grin on Frank Iero's face for the next few hours at the very least.

-

"You're absolutely smitten with him." Jamia announced as the two of them walked out of the bungalow and onto the road. Frank, of course, couldn't help but blush in response.

"I-I..." Frank struggled to put the words together. "I wouldn't say that, I mean like him, of course, but-"

"I've seen the way you fucking look at him, Frank." Jamia let out a sigh as Frank pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and put in an estimate at the amount of missed calls he was about to receive. "You look at him like he's this fucking elusive perfect thing that you can't even believe is real."

"I don't know, Jamia, he just likes The Smiths and looks really fucking good in a miniskirt." Frank sighed, widening his eyes at his phone screen. "Seven missed calls - is that one for all of my stepdads then?" He closed the notification and went straight into contacts, putting Gee's number into his phone before it rubbed off or something.

"You're putting his number in before you call your mum." Jamia noted the obvious, completely in disbelief of how in love he was. "You're worse than Mikey, I swear."

"I guess we just both share very strong feelings regarding miniskirts and The Smiths." Frank shrugged, pocketing his phone, his eyes widening as he found them set on a figure stood at the start of his road. "Fuck, that's Mikey. He's going to interrogate me about Mexican gangs, fuck, fuck Pete, seriously- well not seriously, but-"

"Calm down, I was over exaggerating. As if anyone ever listens to a word that kid says." Jamia smiled, turning to Frank. "Look I better go, you know he hates me, and he'll already be pissed with you just for talking to me, so yeah, remember to text me too - I want to know if you survive this."

Fuck. Frank sighed to himself as he approached his 'best friend' and tried not to focus on the fact that his older brother had asked him to eat him out just over an hour ago, because if his brain to mouth filter broke down like that, things really could not go well.

"So, Frank, you care to explain where the fuck you've been?" Mikey shouted as he approached him and Frank couldn't help but panic because fuck he had absolutely no answer for him, because in this case, the truth really would not do. "I saw you with Jamia, what the fuck? Pete even said you joined a gang, but he's a fucking twat, so I guess that's not true."

"Jamia's my friend, Mikey." Frank let out a sigh, praying that the news that she liked girls more than just a little hadn't reached him yet.

"She's a lesbian." Mikey said in a hushed whisper which pretty much made Frank sick to his stomach, and quite honestly, he really wanted to scream out in response, 'and yeah I'm a fucking gaylord.' But he doubted that Mikey would appreciate the comedic value behind his totally true statement. "You can't date her, Frank."

Frank laughed in his face at that one. "I don't want to date her, Mikey. I don't know where you got that from though, because I didn't know that." He also reckoned probably should feel a little more remorse when it came to lying straight to his best friends face, but this was one of those times when he physically could not tell the truth.

"Pete told me that, so I guess, you have a point." Thank the fucking lord Frank didn't believe in for Pete Wentz's idiotic reputation, because it had already saved his ass twice today. "Where the hell were you though?"

"Just felt like bunking, you know, you just cannot fucking deal with school and fucking assholes for one minute longer. It was a stupid decision, but yeah, not much I can do about that now." Frank continued to shrug another lie, finding it all too fucking simple now.

"My mum would kill me, you know." Mikey sighed, laughing a little now. "You better appreciate that you have a really relaxed mum, seriously."

"Yeah, I guess, I'll tell you how it went tomorrow or something." Frank offered, not all that keen upon texting Mikey tonight - his brother was where his attention was focused right now. And seriously Frank was glad Mikey Way wasn't a mind reader because if he knew that Frank was thinking about his older brother in a miniskirt right now, he probably would have punched him right in the face.

"Yeah, see you, Frank- wait, where's your blazer?" Mikey stopped himself, as he was about to leave, pointing at Frank's plain school shirt.

Fuck.

"I don't know, man." Frank's eyes widened and he walked past Mikey as fast as he possibly could, never wanting to get home quite so fast before.

The thing is Frank did know where his blazer was.

Frank Iero's blazer was still left on Gee's bedroom floor.

-

"Frank Iero, where the hell do you think you've been?" His mum called out, standing in the hallway and raising her eyebrows at her son like she hadn't just been texting her friend Ingrid about running away when Frank turned eighteen and going to live a life as strippers for the Russian Mafia. Linda Iero was really not a conventional woman.

"And where's your blazer?" She asked, gesturing towards the obvious abundance of the horribly oversized black thing thrown over his shoulders and weighing them down enough to force him to hunch his back a little.

"Mum, I-" Frank began, kicking his converse off and stepping forward.

"Nope, you don't leave the hall without an explanation. What the hell happened to you? Skipping school? Even Jamia didn't know where you were, and she's like the Robin to your Batman." Trust Mrs Iero to make Batman references regarding her sons friends.

"I met a guy." Frank let out a sigh, knowing that unlike in the case of Mikey Way, with his mum, the truth was the only thing that was going to do.

"Oh my god." She exclaimed, her jaw almost detaching from the rest of her face. "Right come on, I'm putting some coffee on, you are going to tell me all about him."

Frank had to laugh at that, "you can't act like a proper mum for more than a minute can you?'

"I can send you to your room and ground you if you prefer." She offered with a smirk.

"Yeah, coffee's fine." Frank sighed, making his way over to the sofa and awaiting the coffee and interrogation from his mum, which really would last an hour at minimum, which would of course leave Jamia to think he was dead if he didn't text her, but he couldn't text Jamia without texting Gee and that would get him nowhere.

"So, what's his name and tell me why he's important enough for you to skip half a school day." Mrs Iero placed the coffee down on the coffee table and turned to her son, amusing herself more than a mother should with the rather obvious that inhabited his face.

Frank let out a sigh, almost laughing aloud as he remembered their conversation in which she'd practically dragged him out the closet – in a metaphorical sense of course. "He's Mikey Way's older brother."

"Fuck!" Mrs Iero exclaimed, not bothering to correct her language at all. "I mean, I but I- I wasn't goddamn serious, Frank." She shook her head, grabbing her mug of coffee and occupying herself with it.

"He likes The Smiths, mum." Frank explained, choosing to ignore his crossdressing habits until his mother got used to the idea of him crushing hard on Mikey's brother.

"Alright, I'm listening." She announced, putting the mug back down. "What's his name?"

"Gee. He gave me his number today-"

"Then what are you waiting for? Go on, go," She gestured towards the stairs, "go to your room, Frank Iero!" She pulled on her best maternal voice, "and go text the older brother of your best friend who you really shouldn't have a crush on, but of course, you do."

Frank did not need telling twice, to say the least.

-

Bert McCracken was most definitely not the most compassionate of people, but when he walked into the kitchen, with the intentions of grabbing that six pack of beer from the cupboard, and really hoping that he could stop Bob from drinking all of this as well, otherwise he'd have to get him out of his house pretty soon, because Bert was not the kind of guy for cleaning up vomit, and when he saw none other than housemate sat on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his phone discarded on the floor beside him as he sobbed into his hands, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy.

He was not in a good state right now, to say the very least.

"Gee?" Bert let his voice out in soothing tone, sinking down to sit beside his rather distraught looking housemate, who seemed completely oblivious to Bert's words. "What's wrong, dude?" He tried again, putting an arm around the crying guy and subconsciously pulling him in closer to himself, and Bert let out an almost out of character sigh of relief as Gee happily leaned against his shoulder, burying his face into Bert's chest.

"Tell me what's wrong, hey?" Bert tried once more, brushing Gee's dark, messy hair from his face and rubbing soothing circles into his back, wondering just how much longer he could manage to keep this sympathetic thing going for, because if Bert knew anything, it was that this was most certainly not his forte.

"Family." Gee choked out, his words mumbling against Bert's shirt, who couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as the all too familiar topic of family crossed his mind.

Bert had disconnected from his family entirely, even moving across the country to get away from them, in a move which some may deem heartless, but Bert knew that if anyone was heartless, it was his family if they were treating him like that, and Bert hadn't looked back since.

Gee however, had a harder time running away from his family, well in an emotional sense - they still had his phone number, and legally he still lived with them, and he basically just having a horribly extended sleepover at Bert's house, forever.

Gee often amused himself with how much his parents would go absolutely batshit if they ever saw who he was living with and how this house worked, or even just the miniskirts in his wardrobe, that’d be enough really. The icing on the cake, perhaps.

"And what do those fuckheads want now?" Bert asked, trying not to be awkward about just how he aware and uncomfortable he was with the fact that Gee was crying right into his shirt and it'd probably have snot or something on it pretty soon.

"Want me to go over for dinner, basically my mum's spent ages bitching at me about how I'm never there and there's fucking reason why I'm not there, doesn't she ever think?" Gee snapped out, picking up his phone, unlocking it and passing it to Bert, who widened his eyes as he read the few lines of caps lock from Gee's mother displayed on the screen.

"You should go, but go in a dress and stockings and heels and a full face of make up with your hair curled and then ask her why she's not pleased to see you." Bert added, chuckling to himself and trying not to get just a little turned on from the mental image of that, because to say that his friend didn't make an attractive woman would be a downright lie.

"That'll go down well, I assume." Gee shook his head with a sigh, pocketing his phone and getting up, leaving Bert to sit there awkwardly on the floor by himself for a moment before he copied Gee's actions and made his way to the cupboard, grabbing the beer he'd originally came in for.

"You're with Bob, aren't you?" Gee asked, watching as Bert retrieved another pack of beer from the cupboard and knew that no one else could really drink all that much in a few hours.

"Yeah, you're welcome to join our beer and fifa gathering, but you're a fucking pansy who's generally quite shit at fifa, to put it nicely, of course." He got up, adding a smile to his words as he held the six-pack in both hands whilst still trying to look macho whilst doing so.

Gee couldn't quite understand why he'd ever need to even attempt to look macho in front of a guy wearing a miniskirt, simply the fact that Bert wasn't wearing make up already made him look like a fucking wrestler.

"Nah, I wasn't planning on interrupting you two, I was just wondering if Bob had anything on him - I'm really in need of a fix right now with my family and all." Gee gestured awkwardly as he spoke, whilst also making sure he appreciated that Bert was the kind of guy that never gave a fuck and sometimes even encouraged Gerard getting absolutely fucked up.

"Of course dude, it's Bob." Bert added with a loud burst of laughter, "and on the plus side, he's probably drunk enough to give it you for free by now."

"He's really less of our drug dealer and more of just our friend by now, Bert." Gee pointed out the obvious, knowing that Bob was at their bungalow at least five days a week these days.

Bert shrugged in response, "yeah, I guess he is, but I'm not going to tell him that right now, because he's awfully keen on giving us free weed for inviting him to shit and if we're 'friends' then he's going to get all pissy and demand that he should just be allowed to come regardless."

"You're basically taking advantage of him there." Gee pointed out, trying to ignore his moral compass right now, because morals were generally useless in Bert's eyes and Gee wasn't in the mood to engage in any sort of argument right now.

"And you getting free shit off him because he's pissed off his tits, isn't it?" Bert smirked, raising an eyebrow in his housemate's direction.

"Bertie, you get the beeeeeeerr?" Bob stumbled into the kitchen, seeming to have left his shirt in the living room and exposing his uncomfortably hairy beer belly, which was something Gee tried his best not to focus on, despite it being rather in your face.

"Yeah, I got the beer!" Bert exclaimed with a sense of almost faked enthusiasm and Gee couldn't help but let a snort out, gaining a horrific death glare from Bert in response, which he really reckoned he'd be paying for later, but right now he really could not care.

"Goood!" Bob let this absolutely ridiculous grin fall over his face and seriously he was beyond pissed. "Heey Gee!" He exclaimed in Gee's direction who passed him an awkward smile in response, mainly just for the sake of acknowledging his presence.

"Oh yeah, Gee wants to know if you got any shit he can have." Bert offered, noticing just how socially incompetent his housemate was being, and he was generally just a little tired of standing awkwardly in the kitchen and comforting him, and in Bert's mind, the sooner he pissed off and got high, the better.

"Yeah, duudee I got plenty of pot, like I found of a pot of pot, like a pot of gold y'know with the leprechauns and shit but not gold, pot, like a weed leprechaun, I mean I'm probably a weed leprechaun aren't I? I've gotta beard and shit, granted I'm not Irish, but y'know I don't think anyone's really Irish, like I think all the UK people just have different accents to confuse you and sorta scare us 'mericans cause they know they got the good shit and they don't want us stealing their land and-"

"Yeah Bob, that's, ugh nice and all, but I don't want weed, I was wondering if you had anything stronger..." Gee trailed off, ignoring Bert's raised eyebrows from the corner of his eyes.

"Yeah, sure got some pills, man, don't know what they do really, but they probably do something, so you know. Try your luck, dude. Don't sue me if you die, etc. yada, yada- also, very important! If you do, end up in hospital, hypothetically speaking, of course, and they ask where you got this shit from, you don't say Bob Bryar." Bob rattled on about just about everything nobody cared about as he dug into his pockets and pulled out a little zip lock bag with several pills of different colours and shapes in the bottom.

"You say The Weed Leprechaun." Bert added with a chuckle. "That'll confuse 'em, possibly get you admitted to a mental hospital in the process, but worth it, in my opinion."

"I don't know exactly what's in that bag," Bob added in a really very worrying manner as he handed Gee the bag, however the miniskirt-clad guy, really was not in a state to care about his own safety right now at all. "It's kind of like a pick 'n' mix, but without the haribos, that's kinda sad actually - haribos are the best bit-"

"Yeah, Bob." Bert let out a sigh, "Gee's going now he's got his shit, isn't he?" Gee shot Bert a questionable glance, and then the beer clutching guy mouthed 'run before he asks you to pay' at him, and then Gee needed convincing no more.

"Yeah, I probably have, yeah. I mean, I'm very busy, yes."

Honestly, Gee had no idea where he was going, but he was also kind of broke, so he reckoned that perhaps getting on the outskirts of the park wasn't all that bad if he got to do it for free. He just hoped he could find his way home afterwards.

-

Patrick Stump was very similar to Ray Toro in quite and very kind nature, but plus the glasses and minus the afro, and, unbeknownst to Ray, minus the drug dealing older brother. Patrick also had been born with the absolutely god like quality of being able to put up with Pete Wentz for periods of time longer than a few minutes, and that was exactly how they had ended up as best friends - Pete had the annoying habit of clinging on to people, and when they let him, there was really no hope of ever shaking him off.

And Patrick really didn't like to point things out in a manner that made people uncomfortable, but it was coming to the point where Pete's crush on Mikey Way was becoming almost annoyingly obvious to his shy best friend.

Patrick had guessed that Pete was at least bisexual for a few years now - Patrick was the kind of guy that actually listened to what you said, no matter how long you went on talking for, and really some of the shit that came out of Pete's mouth, especially late at night, was not at all heterosexual, in the slightest.

"You know, Patrick, did I ever tell you that Mikey is a real fucking ass, you know I was talking to him the other day and he was just being such a homophobic asshole, like how the fuck can he be? I heard his brother's a fucking cross dresser, you know? I also heard that Frank-" Pete stopped himself at that moment, Jamia's blackmail threats coming to the front of his mind. Pete wasn't scared of many people, and his ego certainly helped him in that quest, but if there was anyone that did freak him the fuck out, it was Jamia Nestor.

"You never shut up about Mikey Way, you know that, Pete." Patrick stated as nicely as he could, watching Pete's head jerk up from his phone instantly at the mention of Mikey's name, which of course only backed up Patrick in his suspicions.

"What do you mean by that?" Pete asked, blushing a little and pulling a horrible face of over exaggerated confusion, his eyes drifting everywhere but Patrick's, mainly focusing on his band posters on his bedroom walls, and his bass in the corner and just how he planned to impress Mikey Way with it.

"Nothing, necessarily." Patrick responded, his voice awfully calm, which only worked as a contrast against Pete's exaggerated tones.

"You saying that I like him or something?" Pete asked, letting out a fake laugh along with his words, which really only did nothing but to work against him here.

"No, Pete." Patrick let a smile pass over his lips at that. "That's exactly what you're saying."

"What-?"

"No, it's not just then, it's that you look up when I mention him, it's that you always go on about him, and you know that bass thing, impressing him? That's not pissing him off, that's flirting with him. And it's pretty obvious with the fact that you're not exactly the straightest of people." Patrick finished, smiling up rather innocently at Pete, and wondering just how hard his best friend would try to deny the rather obvious truth once more.

"What do you mean I'm not exactly the straightest of people?" Pete exclaimed, blushing horribly and praying that if Patrick noticed then nobody else had. "How do you even get that idea?"

"Don't worry, I'm the only one that actually listens to you, so you know, no one else hears you going on about guys from bands and blowjobs at like midnight." Patrick explained, watching in mild amusement as Pete's face flashed through just about a million facial expressions at once. "I've guessed this for several years now, just didn't want to embarrass you, but you're clearly head over heels for Mikey Way-"

"And Mikey Way has a strict Catholic family and is fucking homophobic asshole and I'm a fucking faggot, yeah this is going to fucking work, isn't it? Why the fuck do I even try? He's more than lovestruck over fucking Alicia Simmons, do I have to wear a fucking miniskirt and join the netball team just to get him to notice me or what?"

"And I'm guessing that's just about the closest you're going to get to admitting it, isn't it?" Patrick added with a small smile. "And let me tell you something - his brother's gay, isn't he? You told me that once; apparently you're just about the only person that pays any attention to Mikey Way's rants on his brother. I heard that means he has more chance of it himself, and all that homophobic stuff can be due to his parents suppressing his sexuality or something. Don't think it impossible, hey?" Patrick grinned at him, forcing Pete into a smile, because Patrick had some sort of magic habit like that.

"God, I don't know why I even listen to him rant about all that homophobic shit - it really pisses me off, you know, but I put up with it, I listen to him, because it's weird, I just, it's because you love them, you just love to hear them talk and you'll listen to them, no matter what absolute bullshit they're going on about." Pete let out a sigh, glancing across at his bass and perhaps giving it a second chance in his mind.

"Yeah I get what you mean. You might hate what they say, but just because it's from their mouth, it sounds like it's the words of angels." Patrick said as he listened to Pete Wentz talk about his crush on Mikey Way, listening despite the jealousy, listening because he cared about Pete more than he could ever imagine.

-

"So I assume you survived then, Frank?" Mikey asked the shorter boy as he walked down his road, stopping in front of the Way residence as the two of them awaited Ray's exit from his house next door.

"Yeah, I did, but my blazer did not." Frank sighed, gesturing down to his still blazer less form, "and I have to go get it back, so I can't walk with you two today, and please lie for me when I'm inevitably late." Frank pulled the puppy dog eyes on Mikey.

"Where the hell even is that thing?" Mikey asked, furrowing his brow as he wondered why Frank was even bothering and not just getting one from lost property before he actually went to his lessons - it was surprisingly easy to lie and get some free uniform, as Mikey had discovered when some kid stole his tie once last year.

"The park, somewhere, I guess, look, it's fine, I better get going." Frank rushed his words as he began in a fast paced walk past Ray's house and down the road, hoping that when he got to the bungalow at like seven in the morning someone would be awake at the very least.

Due to his fast pace, Frank arrived there in just over fifteen minutes, and let out a sigh, catching his breath as he pressed down against the doorbell, praying to any God he didn't believe in that someone would be awake.

"What the fuck do you want?" Frank was a little taken aback with the tone the door was answered with and he found himself rather uncomfortable as he found himself faced with a rather pissed off looking Bert McCracken, wearing nothing but heavily stained sweatpants, and his hair donning several weeks worth of grease. "Oh, it's you, you're his boyfriend, aren't you?"

"I... uhh... I left my blazer here yesterday, could I go, uh, get it?" Frank's word came out in an awfully muffled whisper.

"Yeah, whatever, kid. Just try and not leave your clothes here next time, cause if anyone finds out you're fucking a twenty five year old that's gonna be the evidence that gets him in jail." Frank had to shiver at Bert's harsh words and tried not to make eye contact with the guy as he walked through into the hallway, making his way towards Gee's bedroom only to be stopped in his tracks as Gee himself walked out from the bathroom.

The both of them were just about as shocked to see each other - Gee was mainly confused as to why Frank Iero was in his house at seven in the morning and Frank was really just in shock at how much of a mess Gee looked right now.

His hair was greasy and almost straw like, pulled back away from his face as if he'd just been puking, his eyes laden with bags and reddened at the edges, his skin shockingly pale (well, considerably paler than usual) and really seeing him in baggy sweatpants and an oversized shirt really made him look so much like Bert, and so little like himself. For Frank, it was just weird, to say the least.

"Yeah, he's well aware he looks like shit." Bert commented, obviously having noticed the silence that hung over the two of them. "Idiot took a shit ton of pills yesterday and he came back at four in the morning, puked on just about the whole living room and a bit more in the bathroom and let's just say nobody's getting pills off Bob anytime soon." And with that Bert disappeared, leaving Frank and Gee eye-to-eye and very much caught up in the reality of the situation.

"Why did you take so many pills, Gee?" Frank asked, stepping towards Gee and taking his hand, which the older guy was really in shock at, assuming Frank found him repulsive right now, which really was not the case, Frank just reckoned, he really needed a fucking hug. "Come on, I need my blazer - why I'm here, but we're going to sit down and talk about this, okay?" Frank explained as he led Gee into his bedroom.

"You'll be late for school." Gee pointed out the obvious, still rather taken aback by the fact that Frank hadn't freaked out on him at all.

"I don't care. Mikey said he'd cover for me, but even if he doesn't, they can give me another fucking detention, whatever, I don't care - you're more important." Frank picked up his blazer from Gee's bedroom floor, pulling it on and cringing at his reflection in the mirror. "I look like a fucking idiot, ugh."

"Have you seen the state I'm in?" Gee asked, almost laughing at the situation as he sat down on his bed, cross legged in the middle, grabbing a smoke from his bedside table. "Want one, Frankie?" He offered to the boy in a fucking Catholic school uniform.

"Yeah, thanks." Frank smiled sitting down, cross-legged, opposite Gee. He blushed as Gee put a cigarette between his lips and leaned in as he lit it for him.

"I would kiss you, but I'm pretty sure my mouth tastes of puke." Gee admitted, talking with his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and slurring his words just a little in the process, which Frank found oddly cute.

"Tell me what was with the pills, Gee." Frank let a few moments of silence pass before he got to the point, because he wanted to know what was going on here, despite how hard Gee may try to wriggle out of it.

"I... I... just... family." He let out a sigh, looking up at Frank with these big glassy eyes. "My mum, texted me, and basically she was going on about how much of a piece of shit I was and that I was never home, I just felt like shit, I needed not to feel like shit."

"And in the end you still end up feeling like shit, puking everywhere." Frank pointed out of the obvious, his eyebrows raised a little. "You're really not a piece of shit though, you're absolutely beautiful, Gee, okay?" Frank passed a smile in his boyfriend's direction.

"Look at me, Frankie." He let out a chuckle. "I look like a fucking hobo."

"You always look beautiful to me, okay." Frank whispered, laughing a little too.

"Fucking bullshit, honey." Gee snorted in response, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "Pills make me feel like shit now, yeah, but then, they made it better."

"Not a good idea in the long run though, Gee." Frank let out a sigh, grabbing his boyfriend with his free hand. "I care about you, okay?" He looked up into his eyes, trying to not admit to himself that this was really just a coward's way of saying 'I love you'.

"I care about you too, Frankie." Gee smiled in response and Frank hoped this was a coward's way of saying 'I love you too'. "I also care that you're really fucking late to school right now."

"I should probably finish this smoke first though." Frank added with a smirk, shuffling so he was sat between Gee's legs, his back pressed up against his chest,

"You probably should." Gee murmured against Frank's skin, grinning to himself wondering how the hell he'd ever gotten this lucky.

And one smoke seemed to last several hours, because Frank didn't actually turn up to school until lunchtime. What could he say? Gee was just a real fucking distraction, and it wasn't as if he could refuse the free cigarettes, could he?

That'd just be impolite, of course.

-

Hey guys:) Wasn't quite expecting this chapter to happen so quickly seeing as I only updated a few days ago, but if I'm actually feeling productive then I'm not going to waste that;)

Also I really love writing Bob's character like oops man idk I'll shut up now. So yeah, if you liked the chapter, I'd look for to your comments and votes. I love you guys<3