“Thank you for finally joining us, Mr. Way” Frank said, pen between his teeth, not looking up from the guitar magazine on his desk. “Just get on with the work on the board”
I groaned and sulked my way towards my desk before collapsing into my seat. I pulled out my notebook and started the questions on the board. I don’t know how the fuck to do this shit.
“Brendon and Ryan, again?” Ray asked, furrowing his bushy brows. I nodded slightly, touching the forming bruise on my jaw, “what happened this time?”
“Usual,” I muttered, pushing my note pad away and resting my head on the desk. “Why’s Fr- Mr. Iero being so… out of character today?”
“ Ryan came in five minute before you, tripped over Mr. Iero’s guitar case and snapped the neck,” my eyes widened, not believing my ears.
“Ryan broke his neck?!” I stood from my desk, earning the attention of everyone in the room. “I wanna see! Where is he?”
“No… the guitar’s neck and he’s in detention.” Ray motioned to the white les Paul by the bin, only held together by the metal strings.
“Oh…” my face flushed and I sat back down in my seat, avoiding eye contact from everyone.
The lesson dragged on, no-one daring to utter a word to disrupt the mourning teacher. I finished my work pretty quickly and started to doodle on the table after leaving my sketchbook at home this morning.
I began to shade in the dragon’s wings when I felt hot breath on my neck, causing me to tense up.
“Are you doodling on my desk?” Frank’s sincere voice rang through the silence of the classroom, drawing attention to us. I slowly nodded my head, swallowing the lump trying to evade my throat.
Frank clicked his tongue and handed my a slip of paper, “ detention after school, make sure you show up,” I stared dumbfounded at the pink slip in front of me, filled out with Frank’s spidery handwriting. I rolled my eyes and slammed my head on the desk, wincing but ignoring the dull ache on my forehead.
Ray leaned over and whispered in my ear; “I don’t think he likes you, Gerard. I'm sorry.” I almost laughed at the irony. Being all seductive at my house and then giving me detention a mere three days later.
“Time to move on, time to go guy hunting!” Ray shrieked, once again, causing the class to look up at us. Frank shot me a smirk from across the room, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Blood rushed to my cheeks, contrasting against my milky skin; I mentally cursed myself for having nothing to hide behind.
“… and then he just gave me detention! For no fucking reason! I mean, I get he was stroppy and all, but detention! That’s a little steep! He made me rub out my picture as well!” I grumbled into my sandwich.
“Sounds fun,” Mikey replied, not interested what-so-ever in my rant. “You shouldn’t have doodled on the table though, its vandalism, it’s illegal. He could have done a lot worse” I rolled my eyes, Mikey’s always the one for sprouting out random legal advice.
I dropped my still intact sandwich onto the table as the bell rung and gripped my backpack tight, trudging out of the cafeteria.
Do you ever get that feeling where you want time to go slower? For time to drag, instead of racing ahead? And yet it never does? I sighed, walking down the corridor towards my detention, dragging my feet to prolong the journey.
All too soon, however, I was stood in front of the classroom, hand poised over the brass handle. I ruffled my already dishevelled hair and removed my hand from the door, not wanting to enter just yet. Suddenly, the door swung open the short guitarist was stood in front of me, a small smile placed on his lips. “Gerard! Come in!” he ushered me inside and motioned for me to take a seat. I slipped into my usual place and Frank pulled up a chair in front of me, spun it around and straddled it. I wonder what other things he can straddle…
“What’s with the sudden mood change?” I glared, sceptically.
“Why were you doodling on my desk then, Gerard?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Left m’ sketchpad at home" I mumbled, chewing on my already non-existent finger nails.
“And you decided to use my table to draw on?" I murmured an agreement, not lifting my gaze from the table.
"Okay, lines it is. Write 'I will not doodle on desks' on the chalkboard," he rolled a fresh stick of chalk across the desk and into my open palm. I stared at the white dust trail it left behind before rising from my seat and setting out the task.
As I approached the board, a faint click of the lock broke the silence. “I will not doodle on desks" I muttered to myself as I wrote out the first line in my perfect script. Tattooed arms snaked around my waist my waist and hot breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine. I started on the second line, handwriting becoming increasingly terrible with each button on my shirt Frank undid. Ignore him, Gerard. He's just doing it to tease you.
I moved my hand down a line, only managing to scrawl the first letter of the sentence before a rough hand slipped into my boxers, popping the front button for better access. The chalk snapped in my hand, crumbling to the floor, along with my knee caps. Frank's strong arms held me up as he stroked my semi-hard member, sucking gently on my neck. I gripped the board and buried my face in the crook of my elbow.
“F-frank…" I moaned in a whisper when he slid his slightly calluses index finger over my slit, sending a jolt of pleasure throughout my body.
Frank’s husky, lust filled voice whispered in my ear, sending tremors down my spine, “my place or yours, sugar?"
Finally some Frerardness! Rate and Review please my lovelies!ox.
I'd Love it if you can read my other Frerard FanFiction, Cold-Blooded Murderer>