Ryan and Megan's window painting prank had been something that Gerard had viewed as a wondrous act of god, because he did quite honestly hate the absolute fuck out of Muddy Warter and seeing her cry was more than a little satisfying. Pretending to comfort her and give a shit was less satisfying, but that was what Frank was there - to be less stubborn than Gerard and care about other people and look absolutely obscene when he rolled up his sleeves so you could see his tattoos.

However, it hadn't all been wonderful - it had been joyous up until the very point in which Mr Urie had felt compelled to pretend to give a shit. He hadn't done a particularly convincing job, but Gerard had never expected much; he'd given Ryan the most bullshit pathetic warning he'd seen throughout his entire teaching career, and just looked at Megan and shook his head, and then had said something to Gerard about taking more care with who has access to the paint, to which Frank had argued that it was an art lesson and that it was ridiculous, to which Mr Urie had only raised his eyebrows, because he liked Frank. Whereas, if Gerard had said it, he'd probably have gotten fired- well no because that was paperwork, but Mr Urie might have briefly considered it, because Gerard was stubborn as fuck and also made absolutely no attempt to close his office door ever.

Mr Urie had just dropped it all and then insisted that Gerard clean the paint from his own classroom window, instead of Ryan, who supposedly should be focusing on being in classes and not out of them for punishments, which made very little sense to Gerard, as he could see that there was absolutely no hope of Ryan Ross acquiring any sort of qualifications in his life, ever, but then again, somehow, Mr Urie had gotten a job as a headteacher, so perhaps there was some hope for him.

Scrubbing paint off his classroom windows did fucking suck, though, especially when it wasn't his fault. At least it was on the outside so he could stand there and smoke as he did so, after school, when he should be making his way home to watch Netflix for four hours and pretend to be a productive human being.

Gerard was at least grateful for the fact that he was pretty much the only person who hadn't left school by that point, like seriously, even Lindsey had abandoned him, despite the fact that she apparently had agreed that it was bullshit, and that she apparently had a dentist appointment, which Gerard reckoned was bullshit, because he'd looked on her calendar that morning, because she hung it on her classroom wall and wrote everything on it, because she had a very poor built in sense of organisation. But at least when he was alone, Gerard could set up his laptop outside and play his Spotify playlist on a reasonably loud volume as he attempted to get this fucking paint off the windows.

Until, of course, he had some form of heart attack.

"Having a nice time?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and had thrown Gerard off completely: who had gotten somewhat lost his own little world of spite towards Mr Urie and Ryan Ross and Megan Clifford, and most of all, fucking Muddy Warter, because if she hadn't thrown the paint at Megan in the first place then none of this would have happened.

"Fucking Jesus Christ!" Gerard exclaimed, his eyes widening as he turned to see none other than Frank motherfucking Iero stood at the fire door of his classroom, watching as he attempted to scrub the paint off the windows.

"Sorry," Frank laughed a little, making his way over to Gerard and glancing up at the writing, before commenting, "could do with some capital letters," to which Gerard burst out into a fit of laughter. "What?" Frank exclaimed.

"You're such an English teacher," he groaned, still grinning as he pulled his arm around Frank, "with your fucking grammar and capital letters, man, you know I said I'd never talk to any of the academic subject teachers, but then, here you fucking go, with your shit."

"I'm a crap English teacher." Frank laughed a little, "that's what I am." He concluded, rolling his sleeves up, leaving Gerard to get entirely too distracted by his tattoos as he grabbed a cloth and began to help scrub the paint off the windows.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Gerard asked: a little wide eyed.

"Helping you." Frank explained, just looking at Gerard with an expression that said so much and yet nothing at all, and generally just confused the absolute fuck out of Gerard.

"Well, yeah," Gerard gestured up to the paint, "I can see that. But why?"

Frank shrugged, "I don't know, thought you'd appreciate the company- also, yeah, I've got those papers to mark, and this is a wonderful way to put it all off."

"You're such a crap teacher," Gerard shook his head in disbelief, his face lighting up in the world's biggest shit eating grin.

"I know." Frank nodded, sharing Gerard's grin, "I'm a pretty great friend, though, aren't I? Helping you and all."

"That you are." Gerard nodded to himself, "Lindsey fucking abandoned me, and she even agreed that it was bullshit and that she wanted to crucify Mr Urie."

"I yelled at him for you, though." Frank added, "didn't really listen, of course. He's an idiot, but I think I've figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Gerard asked, pausing to look at Frank with a rather inquisitive look and generally just take in how fucking beautiful he was, as he did, as his best, absolutely platonic friend.

"How Ryan hasn't got expelled or killed or whatever yet." Frank continued, also stopping scrubbing at the paint to focus on Gerard.

"And how's that? Because I really am curious. Do you think may I can take tips from him, because Mr Urie hates my guts-"

"Doubt you'd want to." Frank said, letting out a sigh, "although..." he trailed off, "I don't know- I pretend I didn't say that."

"Tell me." Gerard narrowed his eyes, "what is it?"

"Okay, I'm like eighty five percent sure that Ryan's fucking Mr Urie."

Gerard stood completely frozen still, his eyes widening in utter disbelief, before letting out a gasp in the form of, "motherfucker."

"Well, not quite, headteacherfucker, really." Frank corrected him, smirking like the idiot he was.

"Did I ever tell you how much I fucking hate you?"

And to that Frank only laughed, because he knew that it wasn't like that at all, in fact, perhaps the opposite, and that was something Frank had come to accept, only subconsciously of course, but still, some form of acceptance was better than none at all.

-

Somehow cleaning paint off a classroom window didn't seem anywhere near as horrible as it should when he was doing it with Gerard.

And honestly, Frank found himself faced with the reality of that fact and just what it really meant, as he sat in the passenger seat of Gerard's car and struggled to convince himself that everything was fine and just completely platonic, because he knew, now not just subconsciously, that it really wasn't.

Gerard had offered him a ride home.

Frank had declined.

That was the first two times. But then Gerard had started smiling at him and worrying about him having to walk home on his own, which was bullshit, and Frank knew it, and honestly Frank didn't know why Gerard was going out of his way to give Frank a lift home, but Frank wasn't stupid enough to question it.

"Still don't think it's fair that I had to clean that up," Gerard let out a sigh, drumming his fingertips down onto the steering wheel as they sat at a red light, the low hum of some radio station on in the background - loud enough to provide some sort of relief from silence in the form of background noise, but quiet enough to unsure that you couldn't really make out what was being played without really listening carefully.

"It isn't." Frank looked over in Gerard's direction, having opted to stare out of the window in silence up until that point. "Course it isn't. Mr Urie just doesn't know how to run a fucking school."

"Well, we all know that." Gerard let out a little laugh, glancing up at the red light that almost seemed to be insistent upon staying red.

"Not that me or you would be any better." Frank shrugged, turning in his seat so he was properly facing Gerard, "Mr Urie has more patience than you, anyone has more patience than you."

"I'm pretty patient sometimes. With some people." Gerard let out a sigh, meeting Frank's gaze, "I'm patient with you."

Frank raised his eyebrows: unconvinced. "How so?"

'By being in love with you even when you have a boyfriend, and waiting until you can accept that you love me too.'

But Gerard didn't say that, because he wasn't stupid, he wasn't reckless, and the light was changing to amber, and then to green, and the moment had faded away in acceleration and a turn onto a different street: a street closer to Frank's house, a street closer to the car ride home alone haunted by his own thoughts and anxieties created by the monster he'd made Max out to be.

"I'm driving you home, aren't I?" Gerard shrugged it off.

"Suppose..." Frank nodded, trailing off. "Although, I think driving people home isn't going to get you promoted-"

"I wouldn't want to be promoted, fucking capitalism and academia, fucking everything I hate." Gerard cursed, rolling his eyes.

"And yet you work in a school," Frank laughed a little, raising his eyebrows.

Gerard nodded, "and yet I work in a school."

"Why did you become a teacher?" Frank asked, finding himself genuinely curious.

"Well, what else are you supposed to when the only thing you're good at is art, and you're not even good enough at art to do anything other than teach it?" Gerard laughed it off, leaning back in his seat as they stood in traffic. "I'm shit at being self-employed, I'd get myself fucked over and in debt and homeless and- I just... it's easier, isn't it? I mean, I have to wash fucking paint off a window, because Mr Urie is a pile of shit, but, that was alright, wasn't it? I mean, because it was the two of us. Never would have met you if I never became a teacher, would I?"

Frank met Gerard's eyes with a certain curiosity, "so what did you want to be? All realities and practicalities aside. What would you want to be?"

"I guess, a proper artist," Gerard shrugged it off, brushing the conversation away as the traffic began to move again.

"You should show me some of your art, you know?" Frank offered, a smile upon his face, "I think that'd be really cool."

"And what, is that because you just want to lie to me to make me feel better or because you actually have an interest in art?" Gerard laughed a little.

"Gerard, do you seriously think I don't have an interest in art when my whole fucking body is covered in tattoos?" Frank rolled his sleeves up as if to prove his point, and Gerard sat there trying not to crash the car and kill them both because Frank was being so fucking distracting. "I'm also interested in you, and therefore whatever you do."

Interested in you.

Gerard knew for sure that those three words weren't going to leave him the fuck alone for the rest of his lifespan.

"And why did you become a teacher?" Gerard asked, "because you honestly don't do that much teaching, do you?"

"I got A*s in English and Cs and Ds in everything else, and it wasn't even like I tried anymore than usual in English, I was just kind of good at it, and Max suggested it once when I had some sort of crisis at one in the morning a few years ago, and I mean, I didn't have any better ideas, so, and I mean, it's alright, isn't it?" Frank shrugged a little. "I went through a real fucking angsty poetry phase when I was like sixteen, though for real, we don't talk about that."

"Hey..." Gerard's face lit up, "what if I wanna talk about that? Because hey, maybe I'm interested in it, like I'm interested in you, and all that bullshit you threw at me?"

"Yeah, but your art isn't a pile of angsty shit you did when you were sixteen." Frank groaned, rolling his eyes a little.

"Then write some more poetry," Gerard suggested, "I'm interested. Come on, you didn't get A*s for nothing."

"Fuck off," Frank rolled his eyes, "I was a mess at sixteen. I'm still a mess now, let's be honest here."

"No, no you're not." Gerard smiled as they pulled into Frank's street, "this is you, isn't it?"

Frank nodded, biting his lip as he grabbed his bag, "thanks for this, by the way."

"Thanks for cleaning paint off a window with me for no logical reason, honestly, that was lovely." Gerard flashed him a smile as he pulled up outside Frank's house, parking the car.

"I was a mess at sixteen." Frank muttered again, leaning back in his seat: somewhat reluctant to get out of the car, reluctant for Gerard to leave. "Honestly."

"How so?" Gerard asked, leaning in Frank's direction.

"Sexuality and all that." Frank let out a sigh, "you know what I mean?" Gerard nodded, biting his lip. "Thought it was the end of the world. Thought having a crush on this dude in my chemistry class was the end of the fucking world. Well he was straight, so it kinda was, but-"

Gerard laughed at that, "he didn't know what he was missing out on," he added, before he could quite assess the less than platonic nature of his words and stop himself.

"If you say so." Frank laughed a little, "I think having queer people in positions of authority is good, like teachers, openly gay teachers, because I mean, you kind of feel alone and like you're wrong for who you are and then... I don't know, it's like maybe you can make it out alive, and that it's all normal and that it's all fine."

"Yeah, you're right. Although everyone just thinks I'm an ass more than they think that I like getting fucked in the ass." Gerard blushed at that, finding himself meeting Frank's gaze. "You're lovely, though, the kids actually like you."

"Everyone loves you, seriously, they never shut up about you!" Frank exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief, "they either love you or hate you, and I think haters are a sure sign of success. Just jealousy, isn't it?"

"People only love me because I'm attractive, you're a lovely person all around-"

"And you're fucking modest as hell aren't you?" Frank laughed it off, "you're lovely too, though, at least I'm pretty damn sure you are. I mean, driving me home, that was pretty fucking lovely of you, wasn't it?"

"I guess it," Gerard smiled, looking across at Frank's house, "you ever going to get out of my car then, Iero?"

"Oh?" Frank mocked offense, "you want me gone? Am I annoying you? Have you got places to be? People to piss off? Pretentious comments to make? All that?"

"Shush," Gerard blushed a little, "I just, you've got a boyfriend, don't want to worry him, do you? Sitting in the cars of strange, unbelievably attractive men?"

"You can fuck right off." Frank rolled his eyes, his cheeks burning up.

"As can you," Gerard grinned, gesturing towards the car door, "see you, Frankie."

"Frankie?" He exclaimed, meeting Gerard's eyes in disbelief, "oh come on, I don't think anyone's called me that since I was seven."

"I'm bringing it back then, it seems, aren't I, Frankie?"

"Oh my god..." Frank rolled his eyes in disbelief, "don't you dare call me that again, it's horrendous." He got out of the car, only then to stand there and bend down to peer into the car, smiling at Gerard, "see you. Thanks for this, honestly."

"You're welcome, Frankie." Gerard exclaimed, leaving Frank to roll his eyes and attempt to brush off the way his heart seemed to be fucking smiling as he made his way into his garden and up to his front door.

"I'm home," he called out, slamming the front door behind him and dropping his bag as he made his way into the living room.

"Where the fuck were you?" Max looked up from the sofa, cellphone in hand, "I've called you like sixteen times! What the fuck, Frank?"

"Fuck!" Frank exclaimed, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, "my phone was on silent, sorry, I just stayed late at school to help with something."

"You should have told me, fuck, Frank, I was worried!" Max exclaimed, getting to his feet and pulling Frank into a hug, "I was really fucking worried, you know?"

"Mmm..." Frank nodded, biting his lip.

"So what was it you had to help with?" Max continued to ask, "it's bullshit that you should have to stay longer than you were supposed to."

"I didn't have to. I just wanted to..." He pulled away, "I just wanted to help my friend-"

"And who the fuck is that?"

"Gerard, Mr Way, from art-"

"Of course it is." Max shook his head in disbelief, "and what the fuck could you have possibly been helping him with?"

"Max!" Frank exclaimed. "What are you saying?"

"I don't fucking know, Frank, what the fuck do you think I'm supposed to think?" Max stepped back a little, eyes fixated upon Frank: eyes wide with disbelief.

"It's not like that." Frank shook his head frantically as he struggled to explain the mess he found himself in, because honestly, it wasn't like that.

"Is it not?"

"No."

"Bullshit."

And with a slam of a door, that was that, Frank was left there in his living room frozen still and silent, without a clue what to do.

-

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