Frank's mum meant well, she was over enthusiastic and she was trying way too hard, but still, she meant well, and really, it wasn't as if she'd bullied him into this, she'd only signed Frank up to the football team without his permission, after all.

Football was just not Frank's kind of thing: he saw no point in kicking a ball around a pitch for an hour and half whilst being criticised by just about everyone for being unbelievably shit at it. Sure, Frank liked balls, except he really preferred the kind of balls that came with a dick attached to them, and not the kind that you kicked around a football pitch: touching balls, rather than kicking them, that was more Frank's style - hey, maybe his mum should have signed him up for the basketball team instead.

Of course, Frank was about three foot tall, and even his mum knew that basketball was a lost hope for him.

Really, Mrs Iero just wanted something that looked good on Frank's college application form: something to brag about to Jenny at work whose son was some sort of world renowned super athlete or something, with at least four hundred and twenty Olympic gold medals, and all still at sixteen years of age.

Frank was nothing in comparison, of course, but he had a hell of a lot more to him than being someone's trophy son, and he knew that for sure, because even if he was absolute dogshit at football, he was pretty kickass at guitar, and an absolutely astounding homosexual.

Homosexuality being one of Frank's very few talents, of course.

But then again, Frank knew that the majority of the other guys here were either here for the same reason as Frank, or for the excuse to talk to Lindsey Ballato.

Lindsey Ballato being the head cheerleader, but a fucking kickass one at that, and let's not even mention how goddamn hot she was: Frank maybe gay, but he most certainly was not blind, and Lindsey Ballato was a whole new kind of attractive altogether: it was backbends and red lipstick and short skirts and that way she'd kicked Brendon Urie in the balls last summer.

Lindsey was the kind of girl you were stupid not to be scared of: she was a million miles out of everybody's league, and she was that one girl that all the other girls seemed to worship as some sort of goddess (either via compliments or jealousy) due to the fact that she just about looked like a goddess, and well, she slept with a damn lot of people, but it was somehow sophiscated and worthy of envy.

Lindsey Ballato wasn't a quick five minute 'it'll be horrible anyway so it's best just to get it out of the way' ordeal with some guy she barely knew, and she most certainly wasn't bending over for everyone in the whole school: it was like she was millions of miles above everyone else entirely: elite, it was like Lindsey Ballato's sexlife was the kind of thing that involved an elite club and champagne and enough acid to neutralise Ryan Ross' bathtub.

And Frank, just like everyone else was in awe of her, but of course, Lindsey Ballato was hardly the pivotal point of Frank Iero's existence (although the same couldn't be said for many other guys on that football team). Frank's existence seemed to hold little substance - it was just day in and day out: he was average and far more complacent than he ever would have expected.

Frank had a best friend, and a dog, and a guitar, and there was little else he could possibly fathom having, besides a boyfriend, of course, but Frank's lovelife was worse than Pete Wentz's, and Pete Wentz was the kind of guy who'd put you in his MySpace top eight if you let him fuck you.

Pete Wentz a 'successful' MySpace whore with a spectacularly emo fringe and raccoon eyes: he was pathetic and desperate, and an avid user of the high angled scene kid selfie style, and still, Pete Wentz got laid more often than Frank Iero did.

Frank had loads going for him, or at least that was what he was sure to convince himself of: he was 'cute', he was 'funny', he was 'musical', and well... if he actually managed to find another gay guy, chances were that he would be the only other gay dude they knew, so really, Frank had that going for him at the very least.

Pete was bi, though, and should absolutely no interest in Frank or his humour and guitar skills and dogs, (like seriously, Frank had more dogs than he had friends) which was disheartening, but Frank doubted that Pete Wentz was really the kind of person he wanted to date.

Anyway, Frank didn't have a MySpace so he doubted he was even eligible to be Pete Wentz's boyfriend.

"You survived without getting stomped on or squashed then?" 

Six feet tall.

Ray Toro was six feet tall, and Frank Iero was about six inches tall - fucking hell, Ray Toro's dick was probably bigger than Frank was, not that Frank had ever spent enough time with it to actual gather serious and accurate measurements.

"Alright, alright, bigfoot, shut the fuck up." Frank rolled his eyes in his best friend's direction: the two making their way to biology together, which was not a lesson that Frank was looking forward to, to say the least, and especially not after having wasted away the entirety of his lunchtime standing awkwardly in the corner of a football pitch, and just to make his mum happy.

"Bigfoot?" Ray snorted at that one. "Go pick on someone your own size, huh?"

"What? Like a three year old child?" 

Frank was well aware of just how ridiculously short he was, and just how much worse it was when he stood next to Ray, and really, he wished he just could have been more height conscious at the start of Freshman year when he was choosing the asshole he'd be stuck with for the next four years of hell, but hey, Ray had been at least six inches shorter three years ago, whereas Frank hadn't seemed to have grown in the slightest, which left him rather worried regarding the possibility of him just staying this short forever, because he was really not up for that.

"Alright, Frodo, come on, play nice." And Ray was fucking immensely proud of himself for that one.

"Do not bring the Lord Of The Rings into this." Frank demanded, his eyes widening in anger, making it overly obvious as to why 'bigfoot' was his only friend in the whole school.

"Hobbits are normally nice." Ray grovelled as they reached their biology classroom.

"Shut it, Gandalf." Frank made his way inside, groaning as he came to remember that he'd been given the absolute honour of sitting next to Pete Wentz and his spectacularly emo fringe in biology from now on. He used to sit with Ray, but there'd been a certain incident with a frog and some asshole's lunchbox that Miss Whelan hadn't taken all that kindly to.

"How's it going, shorty?" Height jokes were a first world problem that Frank Iero faced on a daily basis, but Pete didn't know that whenever Frank was sad he looked through Pete's profile pictures because they were so ridiculously emo that you physically could not be sad when you remembered that they existed.

"At least I can actually see from behind my fringe." Frank grumbled, shoving one headphone in as he turned away and attempted to just get away with staring out of the window for the duration of this lesson, but of course, God hated him far too much to just let that happen.

"You've not seen the new kid, have you?" And even worse, Pete Wentz was actually attempting to make conversation with him, dear lord.

"No..." Frank shook his head, and gave in, turning back to Pete, leaving him to continue in his great anecdote of how he most likely going to get this person to let him suck them off.

"Yeah, you were in the staring at Lindsey- uhh... I mean football team... all lunch, weren't you? You're not sporty, Iero, it's just obvious why you're there."

"Well, I'm not straight either, so you've got that wrong." Frank knew that coming out to people at school wasn't exactly the best of ideas, but there was no greater joy in this world than telling Pete Wentz that he was wrong.

"And the plot thickens..." Pete snorted, his eyes widening as soon as he realised that Frank was actually serious. "Okay, but we can't date, because you're not emo enough for me, like you wear black, but your eyeliner game is poor, and your hair is kind of short, and you don't have a MySpace, so I'm sorry Frank, but you're just a poser, and I don't date posers."

"Yeah, I don't want to date you." Frank groaned, knowing he'd regret letting this slip, because within seconds the whole damn school would know, but then, 'the new kid' walked into the room: at least ten minuets late by now, but he did an excellent job of drawing the attention away from Frank.

He was kind of tall, but not as tall as Ray, with lanky arms and legs that looked far too thin to seriously support his weight, dressed in black skinny jeans and a leather jacket that went against uniform code that made him far much cooler than Frank would ever be already. His hair was a light brown, but most of it was covered by the big grey beanie that sat a top his head.

"I don't want to date you either, but holy fuck, I want to date him." And yeah, Frank had called it, grinning a little as Pete gestured in the direction of leather jacket guy who was already a million miles cooler than Frank, despite the fact that he'd only just walked into the room.

"He's definitely out of your league." Perhaps it was kind of harsh, but Pete Wentz's profile picture made him look like a small emo turd in comparison to leather jacket guy, who fucking scowled as he made his way into the room, finally getting the attention of the teacher, who'd been engrossed in her laptop for the last ten minutes, because yes, quality teaching.

"Yes, I know, that's why I have to pounce before he realises that." Pete’s dating strategies were questionable, to say the least.

"Late, aren't we? You're Mikey, aren't you?" Miss Whelan glanced leather jacket guy up and down, scowling a little as she did. "You're going to have to take your jacket off - it goes against uniform regulations."

All eyes were upon leather jacket guy- Mikey... right now: this was initiation, just how he responded to her request would determine his reputation for the rest of his time here, and from the smirk on his lips, he knew it.

Mikey took his jacket off, alright, he took his jacket off to reveal a black shirt with the words 'fuck you' printed on the front in bold white lettering, and well, Miss Whelan looked like she'd had a mini heart attack in response.

"You want me to take this off too?" He asked, his tone surprisingly calm, and holy fuck, this guy had to have planned this, because the teacher was shocked into silence and people were fucking clapping.

"Just go sit down. There's an empty chair there, Mikey." Miss Whelan finally regained her composure, gesturing towards the empty desk in front of Pete and Frank's, and Pete was dying and Frank was close to punching himself in the face right now.

"Oh fuck, I'm screwed, this is the kind of guy that's going to be Lindsey's next boyfriend, not mine, not in a million years."

And yeah, Pete was kind of right: Mikey looked like he really did belong in Lindsey Ballato's elite sexclub with champagne and drugs and shirts that said 'fuck you' on them.

But, by some miracle, Mikey sat down and turned around to face the two of them, grinning a little as the teacher yelled something about continuing with last lesson's work before she went into the stock room to have an emotional breakdown.

"How would you rate that out of ten?" He asked, actually talking to the two of them, and Pete seriously looked like he was about to fall off his chair, which was amusing, if anything.

"That was fucking brilliant." Frank spoke his mind, because hell, Miss Whelan was probably rocking back and forth in the corner of the stock room right now and it took a hell of a lot to accomplish that. "You planned that, didn't you?"

"Ah, my secret!" Mikey grinned, his eyes widening in mock horror, before glancing at Pete who had appeared to have just frozen in place with his mouth wide open. "So, I'm Mikey... and... you are?"

"I'm Frank, and that's Pete, and I think you may have killed him." Frank gave Pete a little prod, causing him to jump and blush like hell as he remembered that Mikey was real and actually talking to him.

"Holy fuck that was amazing, you are amazing, you're like royalty, can I bow to you, I-"

"Please don't." Mikey interrupted him, blushing a little, and turning to Frank a little more. "That's my work for this year done: people have their impression and now I can fuck off and get high all year in the background. This wasn't even my idea, it was my brother's: he's great with ideas, you know?"

"What? No, in the scenario in my head you start dating Lindsey Ballato and you're her boyfriend cool, cooler than us all and she does a backbend to suck your dick and you punch guys like me and I will sit in the back of biology wondering whether I want to be you or do you- you're not just allowed to fuck off and get high." Pete came on a little strong, well, to say the least.

"I don't want to date Lindsey, or you for that matter. I don't want to date, I don't want to make friends, that's not how I work... this... this is just an assessment of my perform - Frank gave me his opinion, and that's fine, I've done, my work is fucking done, and if that teacher’s not going to come back then I'm just going to leave now." And with that, Mikey Way grabbed his leather jacket, putting it back on and making his way out of the classroom, and leaving Pete Wentz to slam his face against the desk, and Frank to cringe across the room in Ray's direction.

"My whole life is ruined." Pete grumbled, the table muffling his words. "I knew it would never work but he's not even going to date Lindsey so I don't even have the image of them fucking to jerk off to this is literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me."

"I reckon you might want to re-evaluate your priorities." Frank suggested, knowing that Pete wouldn't listen, but fuck, it whatever, he'd tried.

"Yeah, alright, Bilbo." Pete was, of course, utterly unconvinced.

"It's Frodo, actually."

"Whatever." 

 -

Gerard Way was supposed to be doing something, but the something was just something he couldn't quite recall.

In fact, maybe he was supposed to be doing someone, but still, with his knees pulled up to his chest as he sat on his mum's kitchen floor, he couldn't recall it for the life of him.

He was alone and very, very naked: his mum being at work and Mikey being at his new school today, and Gerard just wished he could have woken up earlier to actually wish Mikey good luck before he went, because he very well could have been slaughtered, and that very easily could have been the last that Gerard Way would have ever seen of his brother.

But instead, he sat naked and absent minded on his kitchen floor, pushing another strand of dyed black hair behind his ears as he wondered just how long it would be before he'd probably have to put some clothes on, sure he loved Mikey, but not in the way that would involve seeing him naked.

Gerard was weird, but nowhere near that weird.

His head was a mess and this new town fucking sucked, but at least he didn't have to go to school like Mikey: he was supposed to go to college or something but it became evident that that really hadn't happened, so now he was just waiting to be lumped into some shitty internship at his mum's work or something.

All his friends, all of his fuckbuddies were in the next town over and that fucking sucked, because Gerard was naked as it was, and no one would be home for a good few hours now.

Surely, he could just jack off but that was never as good, and he fucking needed someone to talk to right now, but the nakedness was really a huge problem right now.

And it was a problem that was only exaggerated as the fucking doorbell rang, and if Gerard knew anything with his at best C grade exam results, he knew that he really should not answer the door naked.

He went for a hoodie on the sofa that was probably long enough to make it look like he at least had underpants on underneath, and a blanket wrapped around him like a burrito, before making his way to the door: he could just play the ill card, and the person at the door would soon fuck off and it would all be okay, he promised himself.

"Uhh... hey... sorry to like... bother you but my friend kinda threw her school bag over your fence into your garden..." Gerard was faced with a teenager who looked like she should most definitely be in school right now, but fuck it, Gerard didn't care, he just wanted to get back to sitting naked on his floor.

"Yeah, whatever, the garden gate's like open, just go fucking get it, whatever." Gerard slurred his words a little as he spoke: exhaustion as opposed to intoxication, but regardless, it didn't exactly make the best of impressions.

"You're naked under that blanket, aren't you?" Teenager one's friend appeared from apparently nowhere, smirking as she looked Gerard up and down, which made him feel just a little uncomfortable, to say the least. "Not much of a talker? Okay, I'll just go get my bag-"

"Why did you throw it over my fence?" Gerard suddenly found himself asking, although he knew the right thing to do here was to just close the front door and hope that they fucked off as soon as humanely possible.

"I meant to throw it, but just not over your fence... like a fuck you to school, and the biology lesson I'm supposed to be in right now." She explained, with an enthusiasm that seemed to please Gerard. "I'm Lindsey, by the way, and this is Jamia, and I really would love to have a conversation with you about fucking with authority and the like, but, you're naked, and if my mum told me anything it was don't go into the homes of naked men that you don't know."

"Yeah, because that applied the other-" Jamia interrupted with a raise of her eyebrows.

"That was different: that was a nudist party - the whole point of it was being naked, to like, make a statement."

"And to show your tits off?" Jamia added for Lindsey, because well, if it wasn't true then Lindsey had something wrong with her.

"Maybe- hey, naked dude, are you a nudist?" Lindsey turned back to Gerard with the least discreet 'I wouldn't mind seeing you naked' grin at all.

"I'm Gerard, not 'naked dude', but not particularly, but I see nothing wrong with self expression and art, and the human anatomy is a form of art so-"

"Well, you're either a nudist or a pervert, so I'm glad you went for the former, because you're kind of cute, huh? Jamia, don't you think he's kind of cute?" She turned to her friend with a grin.

"I'm far too gay to pass any judgement, you know that, Lindsey." Jamia rolled her eyes, wishing that she could pretend that Lindsey wasn't totally stalling to flirt with this fucking random ass naked guy, who could be a fucking serial killer for all they knew. "Anyway, can you just get your bag and we'll leave?"

"Hey, Gerard, was it? Look, I'll give you my number and we can discuss being naked together at a future date, how about that?" Lindsey was forward in the same way Pete Wentz was, but Lindsey was so ridiculously hot that her tactics seemed to actually work.

"You're a teenager." Gerard pointed out, a little awkwardly, but he actually managed to speak, so he deserved some credit for that, at the very least. "I'm nineteen, nearly twenty."

"I'm seventeen, that's two years, I'm not a fucking preteen, anyway, whatever you say, you're new here, aren't you? Just saying that I have a lot of connections, okay, you don't need to fuck me, but I'm just telling you that when I offer my friendship, it's something you want to accept." And with that, Lindsey grabbed Gerard's arm and scribbled her number across it, before leaving to retrieve her bag.

"Sorry about her- she's over confident and ridiculously attractive, but she means well, I promise, she's a great friend, and she's definitely a little stoned right now." Jamia added with an apologetic smile in Gerard's direction.

"Yeah, she's pretty cute, I guess, I mean, I'm not the 'relationship' type, but she offers interesting beliefs regarding authority and rebellion-"

"Yeah, Lindsey's not the relationship type either." And with that, Jamia turned away to return to Lindsey, leaving Gerard to close the door behind him and reassess his life right now.

Because fuck, Gerard missed his hometown and his boyfriend as much as he missed the heated floor in his old house which allowed him to sit naked on the kitchen floor without getting a cold butt.

-

hey look a new fic i dont know what happened here and im only vaguely aware as to what this really is but it looks like fun idk lets see how this goes, also comments and votes would be really nice rn so i could see if people want this in their lives or not.

i love you all a lot ok