Frank P.O.V

I looked forward to every detention that I got to spend with him.
It was the end of a long Friday, and I had been waiting all day to go to my detention having spent my day fidgeting from my impatience.

As soon as the bell sounded to signal the end of the day, I walked briskly out of the classroom door, not even bothering to talk to my friends.  I dismissed them all, telling them that I had a detention, trying to slow myself down so that I didn't seem too excited. I had some good news to tell him, and I couldn't wait. I knew that what I was going to tell him would instantly lift his mood, and whatever else on his body that I could lift as soon as he thought about me. This weekend is going to be great, I thought to myself with a smirk. He would probably be excited about controlling me all weekend - which was a thought that caused my body to go numb with pleasure.

Arriving at his classroom, I noticed that he wasn't alone. There were a few other students hanging around, I frowned. Knocking lightly, he turned on his heel to face me, his face stern as he pretended to hate me for misbehaving. He beckoned me inside, I had to chew the insides of my mouth to stop myself from smirking. He pointed to the desk in front of him, I sat down obediently. He slid the godforsaken notebook over to me, along with an entire roll of tape. Leaning over me, he muttered something to me under his breath, making me shiver. He smirked a little, subtly enough so that the other students in the room wouldn't have noticed. He looked up, smiling at the small group of students, before continuing his little lesson.                                                                         ~>•<~

"And that," he said, sitting on the edge of his desk, his hands in a gun-shape under his chin, "Is how the human lungs work. Any questions?" He added, letting out a raspy breath. He had been pacing back and forth for almost an hour, as the students - me included - listened intently. None of them spoke; he dismissed them with a charming smile. He waved them off, wishing them a restful weekend, before turning his head towards me. He waited for a few moments until he was sure that everybody had indeed vanished, before swinging his legs over the other side of the desk. He sat down in his chair, slowly beckoning me over to him. I stopped myself from kicking my stool into oblivion, running over to him. I walked at a reasonable pace, he turned the chair to face me. Patting his thighs, I climbed onto him, feeling the soft bulge in his pants as I sat down. We smiled, before he reached up to kiss me, holding my head in place. I ran fingers through his hair, as he slowly bucked his hips to meet my ass.

"I have some good news for you." I said quietly, resting my forehead against his.

"Go on." He purred, squeezing my ass through my jeans; they were growing tighter and tighter as the seconds ticked by.

"My parents are going on vacation for the weekend - it's their anniversary weekend. So, that means that I've got a free house for three days." I said, his eyes brightened. Smiling, he kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth. My jeans were becoming more and more uncomfortable. I secretly wished that he would drag me into the storeroom again and just rip them off. I wasn't desperate - that would be the wrong word for it. I was in love with the man, and the way that he controlled every inch of my body. There wasn't anything that I wouldn't do for him, and I was hopeful that he felt the same way about me. After a few passionate moments, he pulled away from me, stroking my cheek.

"You could stay at my place for the weekend, there's all sorts of fun that we could get up to. I know that I have a few things in mind." He whispered, sending shivers across my small body. I smiled, nodding my head eagerly. I would pretend that I was sick, in order to escape from the prying eyes of my friends. They could wait. Anybody could wait. I didn't care if my parents urgently wanted to check up on me, they could wait their turn. I would be with Mr Way, and there wasn't anybody important enough that could disrupt our time together.

"Please." I said. He shushed me, placing a pale finger against my lips. I stared at him through obedient eyes, as thoughts flashed through his. I couldn't wait to spend the weekend with him.

"I'm going to lay down some rules," He said, raising an eyebrow, I nodded keenly. He smiled, placing a finger on my lips so that I wouldn't interrupt him in my excitement. "You're going to do everything that I tell you to do, and you're going to be obedient, aren't you?" He asked, pinching my chin, I nodded again. He smiled, planting a kiss on my lips. "You're going to earn every bit of foreplay, and if you're a good boy, I might even fuck you." He purred into my ear, his mouth traveling down to my neck. He sucked the skin, chewing it a little, aiming to leave a bruise there to mark me as his property. There were butterflies in my stomach, all of which were trying to escape from inside me. I smiled, holding his head against me, eyes almost rolling into the back of my head. "There's a good boy." He whispered, thrusting his hips into me, jolting me forwards, a quiet moan slipping from my lips.

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Song Of The Chapter - Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand

A.N

After I've finished this story, I'll be sure to make a start on bringing There's A Boy In The Corner to an end. I really want to get them over and done with, and end that stage of my life. It's beyond difficult to write these kinds of stories anymore, when I can't really listen to any of the songs that originally inspired me to write stories like these. It's safe to say that the vast majority of you understand what I mean, but, there are still a few that really, really don't understand that every cringey comment, every annoying unnecessary back-chat that I receive for voicing opinions about thinks that perhaps once appealed to me. Quite honestly (would've put "frankly") but the less mature portion of my demographic would ignore everything that I have to say, and would drill more hatred for the bands that once "helped me" further into my mind.

I don't dislike all of my old music taste, and as much as I say that I hate my old Frerard stories, I can say that I am proud to know that they have been read by many many many people from many (times three) different places.

It just frustrated me that I had to appeal to a selection of people that aren't necessarily here for the plots of my story - they're here for the fact that their "30 yr old smol-beans" are plastered on the front cover.

I can't be arsed to write any more of this rant, as alas, hardly any of you will read it and take in what I'm saying. But, as I've probably said before, once this story and TABITC are done -there will be no more Frerard stories - but more original content and short stories, perhaps a few fanfictions that relate to the music that I listen to now. (Who knows eh?)

Please check out You Adore Me and The Revolution, as I've actually turned one into a short screenplay and the other will deffo be turned into a screenplay.

<3