Gerard perhaps only realised as to just how bad an idea this had all been once it was over, once he'd been done with it, once he couldn't change it.

Once he found himself sat in Brian's front room, cigarette in hand, some rubbish on low on the TV in the corner, and the French teacher stood up in the corner, on the phone to his wife. On the phone to poor Mrs Molko, who didn't have a clue.

She wouldn't ever have a clue.

And perhaps that was for the best, because Gerard knew even right then that it had been a mistake, a fuck up, and one on a colossal scale, and he sat in Brian's living room, smoking Brian's cigarettes as if it was all okay.

It wasn't okay.

Gerard really fucking wasn't okay.

"She has to work late tonight." Brian ended the call and looked up, his words directed at Gerard. "You can stay for another hour or two." He stepped across the room, sitting down beside Gerard, and rubbing his forehead, "I need a drink." He announced, before getting up and making his way into the kitchen.

Gerard remained seated, silent, smoking, teeth wearing down at his bottom lip in time to his every thought wearing down on his conscience.

He shouldn't have done it.

Brian knew that too.

Brian had a wife.

Gerard had no one but his own conscience to adhere to, but still, that didn't get him off easily.

Because it hadn't been Brian's fault.

Sure, Brian Molko had been the one to meet Gerard outside at his smoking spot at break, having heard the odd rumour from a couple of girls in his French class that something was up with the art teacher, and indeed, he had gone to check it out, just to ask Gerard if he was okay, as friends do, because Brian and Gerard had been, and still were friends... Gerard hoped so at least.

Brian returned about a minute later with two wine glasses and a bottle of something posh and red, and in that moment, utterly vile in Gerard's eyes. "I guess you want one too." Brian added as he placed the two glasses down on the glass surface of the coffee table, just a few centimeters away from the ashtray that Gerard found himself furiously smoking into.

Gerard only shrugged in response, because truth be told, alcohol was the last thing he needed right now, but also the only thing he wanted right now. Much like Brian had been.

The older man poured wine into his glass too nonetheless. Gerard just looked at it, oddly, as if with suspicion.

And Gerard had broken down, right in front of the French teacher, back at school, and Brian had been concerned, because Brian was a decent human being, and it wasn't like Gerard should have asked for him to be apathetic. Brian understood him to a relatively good extent, and he'd lead Gerard inside, and the two had exchanged conversation in Gerard's room. Gerard sat on his chair, and Brian sat on his desk. The conversation had turned somewhat self-depreciating - a fault of Gerard's, and Brian hadn't appreciated that.

The French teacher had told him he was beautiful, and without a moment's hesitation. Gerard had kissed him. In much the same manner.

Gerard finished his cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray, turning to the man sat on the sofa behind him and shivering a little: shivering with thoughts: stained like red wine upon his mind. He glanced back down at the glass: waiting for him, patient, enticing. He gave into it - he was excellent at giving in today, it seemed.

"Is it alright?" Brian asked, nodding in relation to the wine. Gerard shrugged, before forcing himself into a nod.

"Is it alright?" Brian had asked, earlier that day, locking the art storeroom cupboard behind them, his hands about to pull off Gerard's jeans. Gerard had nodded, no sign of a shrug.

They'd fucked.

They'd fucked. They'd fucking fucked.

And Gerard couldn't walk, and Brian offered to take him home. Brian offered to take Gerard not to his own home, but Brian's instead. Gerard had accepted.

"Say something, Gerard." Brian placed the glass back down upon the table, surveying the art teacher momentarily in the silence.

"I'm sorry." Gerard pushed his words out: his voice breaking a little in the process of doing so.

"Don't be sorry." Brian shook his head, reaching out and placing a hand upon Gerard's shoulder. "Not your fault." Gerard didn't agree. "I took you home. I made those decisions."

Brian hadn't made all the decisions. He'd offered Gerard his bed to lay down in, because Gerard was sore: bruises on his hips, on his thighs, his head spinning: guilt having not entirely set in yet. And Brian had only sat by his feet, eyes pulling over Gerard's form in admiration, but nothing sexual - that had been down to Gerard. That had been down to Gerard, as he'd looked the French teacher in the eyes and insisted he fucked him again. Brian had looked a little startled at first, but he'd nodded, and he'd reached over, stubbing his cigarette out and pulling Gerard's shirt off.

"I told you to fuck me." Gerard was rather blunt in his tone, finishing the wine and placing the glass back down on the table with more force than was necessary.

"And I did." Brian added, pulling his gaze away from Gerard's and letting out a sigh. "I didn't have to agree. But I did."

They'd come down from the odd kind of high with Gerard laid on his back in Brian's bed, his gaze fixated upon the ceiling, upon Frank, upon this all, upon reality and what he'd really done. Brian sat beside him, knees up to his chest, reaching for a cigarette: all nonchalant, beautiful, until he'd frozen, like a deer in the headlights as Gerard parted his lips and uttered the truth: "You just cheated on your wife."

Brian had remained silent, Brian had nodded, because he had.

"I fucked things up with Frank." Gerard went on to say, not even to Brian anymore, but to the silence of his bedroom, to the artwork on the wall.

Brian had remained silent, Brian had nodded, because he had.

Gerard bit his lip, looking down at the coffee table, at the wine, at the ashtray, at his fingernails: bitten down, at his hands, shaking slightly. "I need to go." He got to his feet, shaking a little, he turned to Brian. "I need to go." He reiterated.

Brian remained silent, Brian nodded, because he did.

-

"So, yes, Mr Urie, welcome to my humble abode."

"Please don't call me Mr Urie outside of school." Brendon found himself begging for at least the nine thousandth time, but of course, the chances of Ryan listening were just about as likely of the chances of Ryan behaving like a fucking normal human being for even a second.

"Okay, sorry," His tone was exaggerated and obviously sarcastic, but of course, Brendon hadn't expected anything less. In fact, he might have even been a little concerned if Ryan suddenly decided to just comply with a reasonable request or well anything he asked of him.

"Thanks?" Brendon found himself unsure, raising his eyebrows a little in uncertainty.

"No problem." Ryan smirked, leaning back against the wall, "so, yes, Daddy Zayn, welcome to my humble abode."

"Okay, that's infinitely worse." Brendon declared instantly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'd rather you called me Mr Urie, but Jesus... not... don't call me Mr Urie when... we're... fuck, Ryan, are you sure you want to do this?"

"I think I know what I'm doing." Ryan appeared somewhat offended in response: his words comprised entirely of ego and this false self-confidence that he couldn't seem to live without.

Brendon let out a sigh, "do you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you missed sex ed, you know?"

"And what would make you say that?" Ryan asked, his eyes growing almost unnaturally wide.

"Well, you skip a strong eighty percent of your lessons, and well you were scheduled to have it first thing, and I know you don't bother getting into school until ten most days." Brendon shook his head in disbelief, saying it all aloud making him sound kind of insane, and he really had no clue as to how to deal with that, and of course, if he even could.

"You think I need punishing for that, Mr Urie?" Ryan bit his lip, meeting the older man's eyes, before fucking losing it and nearly falling over in a fit of laughter.

"I think you need to stop this, this pretending, all your ego and shit." Brendon let out a sigh, moving closer to Ryan and taking his hand, "I like you, Ryan, but I really don't like how you seem to feel like you have to act around me."

"What does that mean?" Ryan asked, pulling his gaze away from the teacher, shrugging it off.

"That means I care about you." Brendon let out a sigh, squeezing Ryan's hand a little.

"You're a fucking idiot." Ryan sighed out, biting his lip enough to leave a mark.

"I know." Brendon laughed a little, shaking his head. "Shall we go upstairs?"

"So suddenly you want to fuck me-"

"Ryan, Ryan... Ryan..." Brendon sighed, grabbing the seventeen year old and meeting his gaze, "it's not fucking like that." He sighed, his head spinning as he really let himself take in the look upon Ryan's face: a mess, a mess he'd caused, and he didn't quite know how to verbalise his apology.

So he did the second best thing, or perhaps the worst thing.

He kissed him.

Just like that.

He pressed his lips against Ryan's, pushing him back against the wall.

Ryan had kissed back in seconds, but it was Ryan, he probably would have kissed a grapefruit back, so Brendon didn't think much of it.

What Brendon did think much of, was the way that Ryan seemed to melt in his arms, letting Brendon push him back against the wall, put his hands up in his hair, the one around his waist, and all without complaint: truth be told, in this state, a state of what, Brendon didn't quite know yet, Ryan was oddly pliant, okay with the world, accepting, and easy to deal with.

It was then that Brendon all figured it out: in the act of pulling away, perhaps just for breath, but catching Ryan's eyes in the process, and the odd kind of shine to them, and the blush upon his cheeks, and the way his lips remained parted slightly, as if frozen in that moment. This was Ryan, this was Ryan without his ego, without any sort of bullshit facade: this was Ryan.

And suddenly Brendon didn't know what to do or say at all.

"T-that was n-nice..." Ryan finally pushed out, after a moment or so had passed, his breathing a little heavy, almost as if he'd neglected to do so for the past thirty seconds.

Brendon nodded, also finding himself with one hell of a blush, "yeah," he nodded, "it was." He took Ryan's hand and glanced up the stairs. "Do you wanna-"

It was then, however, that Ryan interjected with easily the oddest sentence of all. "Do you want to see my snake?"

"I didn't know you had a snake- wait, is that a euphemism, because I-"

"It's a real snake, like a reptile." Ryan clarified, laughing a little, before gesturing upstairs, "well, do you want to, or not?"

"I'd..." Brendon trailed off, a little out of his depth, because well no one had ever asked if he wanted to see their snake before. "I'd love to."

"That's good because if you said no you would not be getting laid and I'm not even kidding," Ryan added, perhaps all too nonchalantly as he grabbed Brendon's hand, leading him upstairs and off into a room Brendon hadn't noticed when he'd been here before.

The room was kind of small in nature, with a relatively large window overlooking the street, letting in enough sunlight to illuminate the majority of the room well enough. The interior was compromised of an old tatty rug with various stains that were more than a little unnerving in appearance, a rather large shelving unit pressed up against the left wall, and a table pressed up against the right. Upon the table was a tank, and in that tank, lived a snake. Ryan's snake.

Ryan's snake was red in colour, with black and white markings upon its scales, and rather tiny inside actually, unlike Ryan's other 'snake'.

Ryan made his way over to the tank, looking in at the snake, seeing that it, miraculously hadn't died yet, and smiled. "This is my snake," he explained, gesturing for Brendon to come over and look at his snake.

"I can see that." Brendon nodded, a small smile upon his lips, intrigued by how fascinated Ryan seemed to be by his snake, because honestly, he was quite surprised that he did indeed have other interests than playing guitar and smoking weed and flirting with teachers, but of course, in that typical Ryan Ross style, he had one hell of a habit for proving people wrong.

"Do you wanna know about him?" Ryan asked, opening the tank, and holding the snake in his hands. "Do you wanna hold him?"

Brendon laughed a little, "You can stick to holding him. What's his name? What kind of snake is he?"

"Are you scared of my snake?" Ryan asked in a mix of disbelief and amusement. "His name's Ryan," he continued, leaving Brendon far too confused to be embarrassed, "and he's a milk snake."

"What the fuck-" Brendon's eyes widened, looking between Ryan the snake, and Ryan the worst person he'd ever met. "You bought a snake and named it after yourself? Did you seriously do that?"

"Well, one time Megan dared me to buy a milk snake and name it after myself. It was oddly specific and I really did wonder where it came from, but you know, I've completed every dare anyone's ever given me, that I can physically do, and I'm pretty proud of that. That's like my life's achievement." Ryan exclaimed, pausing, "also I was really stoned and it was hilarious at the time."

"Aren't you always stoned?" Brendon asked, raising his eyebrows a little.

"Alright, you can talk, Mr I Have Never Done Drugs In My Life What The Fuck Is A Weed How Do You Smoke Dandelions." Ryan rolled his eyes, patting Ryan the snake on the head awkwardly and putting him back in his tank.

"At least I didn't buy a snake and name it after myself." Brendon rolled his eyes, glancing towards the window and the street below, and finding himself wondering if anyone from school had even noticed their absence yet, or even the window open in his office, and just what the fuck it was doing like that- fuck, he might have even left his laptop unlocked.

"Yeah, I think naming a snake 'stuck up prick' counts as animal abuse, so that's probably for the best." Ryan laughed, unable to breathe as he caught sight of the seriously unbelievable glare Brendon had shot him in response.

"You're a fucking asshole." Brendon shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, and you won't be fucking my asshole if you don't calm down and start being nice to me." Ryan grinned, leaning back against the wall, and staring Brendon down. "I'm just joking, or am I? See, you never know, do you?"

"I know that you're an ass." Brendon smiled, stepping closer to Ryan, "I'm also pretty certain I left my laptop unlocked in my office, so basically if I get fired for watching porn at work, that is most definitely your fault and I will do all in my power to get you expelled."

"You watch porn at work?" Ryan exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Well, you get bored, don't you? I mean, at least I'm not fucking people in random store cupboards, because that does happen, like I don't flirt with all my students, I flirt with one of them, and I have no idea as to why I chose him out of all of them because he's easily the worst person I've ever met, but still, I have a point, don't I?"

"The point is that you're an idiot." Ryan insisted, grinning as he turned back to Ryan the snake, "are you seriously scared of snakes?"

"I'm not scared, I'd just rather not like hold your snake... it's just... weird... it's like, 'oh, hold my dog', I'd fucking rather not." Ryan burst into laughter at that.

"No one fucking goes up to you and asks you to hold their dog." Ryan shook his head in disbelief. "If they have, then, are you like hanging around a kennel or something?"

"No, I just..." Brendon trailed off, shaking his head as he gave up all hope in the universe and himself. "Just an example, come on, shut up, stop talking shit. Do you wanna fuck now?"

"Oh so now, you want to fuck?" Ryan raised his eyebrows, shaking his head in disbelief, "make your fucking mind up, Daddy Zayn-"

"Please don't." Brendon let out a sigh, shaking his head

"Okay, fine." Ryan smiled, pressing a short kiss to Brendon's lips, "baby. Is that better? Can I be all sappy and shit? Or is that worse?"

"How about you call me... you know? My name?" Brendon widened his eyes at the truly life changing notion of referring to him by his name, like god, god no, that was utterly absurd.

"Okay," Ryan smirked, kissing him again, "you're cute, my name."

"And you're an ass." Brendon muttered, following Ryan out of the room that seemed to be solely dedicated to the milk snake, and into Ryan's room- well, technically they were both Ryan's room, but they were going to Ryan the human's room and not Ryan the milk snake's room, because Ryan felt awkward about having sex with his snake watching, as we all did, of course.

"Mmm.... but you love ass, don't you, Mr Urie?" Ryan grinned, closing his bedroom door behind them, and well, truth be told, Brendon did.

-

hey palzors!!! hope u enjoyed this whatever this was and if u did u can show ur appreciate by doing the vote (tm) and the comment (tm) would be #cool don't u think??????? ////get rekt///// lov u ((((pals)))) !!!!420blazeit!!!! george & matty are gay as fuck js