Misery Loved Me

Frank P.O.V
I could think of a million things I'd rather be doing than going to Art class. But unfortunately, Pete had decided that I simply had to attend so that I could be his wing-man on his mission to get Mikey Way in bed.

I sighed, tapping my pencil against the desk impatiently. Where was Mr. Constantine anyway? He was usually a nazi about attendance and lateness.

"You owe me, asshole", I hissed at Pete, who was sitting next to me in the back row. Mikey was in the row in front of ours, texting furiously with those long, spindly fingers of his. Pete had always hand some obsession with long, slender hands. He claimed that they were more talented in the handjob department. I had more of an oral fixation.

"For actually convincing you to come to class so you won't fail your senior year?", fuck you, Pete. I repeated this sentiment out loud and he merely grinned back, as if he found this situation funny.

"Hey everyone, sorry I'm late. Not a great way to start my first day, is it?", a familiar voice (because really, who else in this school could sound both feminine and manly at the same time?) rang out from the doorway, promptly followed by a head of vibrant red hair. The teacher I accidentally cussed out earlier. I let out an exasperated noise. Of fucking course he would be taking over the class.

"I swear to god, the universe has got it out for you Frankie", snickered Pete, and the teachers head snapped over to look at me. He gave me a sly, almost amused smirk and I instantly felt my stomach twist in dread.

"Anyway, I'm your new art teacher for the year, Mr. Gerard Way. I don't answer to anything besides than Mr. Way, and if you address me in any other way, then there will be serious repercussions. If everyone would be so kind as to introduce themselves to me, that'd be great. We'll start with...you. Go," he pointed to Pete, who stood up straight away.

"My name's Pete, I like to do lots of drugs and drink excessively until I pass out, or shit my pants. Sometimes both," at Pete's words, everyone let out snickers, which were quelled instantly by the dark look on Mr. Ways face.

"Get out."

"Dude, it was a fucking joke!", Pete protested, and then sighed in defeat. He gathered up his stuff and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"I've wanted to do that ever since I overheard him talking about my little brother in an incredibly vulgar way today," at this, my cheeks reddened slightly, and so did Mikey Ways. Wait, Way. They must be brothers, what the fuck?

"Don't you think that punishing a student for personal reasons is a bit unethical?", I sneered at him, and he shot me an amused smile before leaning over my desk.

"Since when have I ever cared about ethics, Mr...Iero", he drawled lazily, checking the name graffitied on my backpack. I scowled and yanked my bag back, cradling it protectively.

"Well you fucking should, asshole," I spat at him, and that dark look was back in full force. I felt my stomach clench in slight fear, and was that arousal? Fuck no. I wasn't turned on by this asshole.

"Unfortunately, I can't punish you because you already have detention later. But I can warn you, don't use that language in class again, Frank", he said, regaining his composure once again. Not for long.

"What fucking language? I'm pretty sure I'm speaking fucking English. Fuck, I thought teachers were supposed to be fucking smart. Fucking fuck." I smiled at him toothily, and saw him visibly get more and more angry. I'm pretty sure his fingers twitched as if he wanted to hit me. But, in a great show of restraint, he merely moved on to the next person to introduce themselves. Pussy.

Mr. Way explained that we were working on black and white sketches. We had to draw the thing we most desired right now, and I had a pretty good idea of what to draw. He walked out and returned with Pete five minutes later, who looked incredibly pissed off and slightly afraid. Of the twelve years I've known Pete, I've never seen him afraid of something as simple as an art teacher with eyeliner and a flaming dye-job.

"What's wrong, did the big mean Mr. Way scare little Petey?", I teased, and he regained his confidence, glaring at me.

"Eat shit and die, Iero," well, love you too Pete. I smiled at him again, and went back to sketching my current desire.

-time lapse-

"Okay, guys, leave your sketches on your desks and I'll have them marked and ready for next lesson. Nice meeting you all, have a great afternoon!", Mr. Way chirped as the bell rang, signalling the end of school. Well, not for me. I scowled as everyone began leaving, and Pete patted me on the arm, shooting me a sympathetic look before running after Mikey, who seemed eager to get out of there.

Mr Way walked over to the door, enthusiastically waving goodbye to some of the more nerdy students, before shutting the door and turning the lock. I let a confused look fall across my face, before he turned to face me with a wicked smile. I sneered back, all the while my emotions were going erratic and my heart was pounding.

"What am I gonna do with you, Frank?", he sighed mockingly, walking over to my desk. I hadn't moved at all since the lesson, why bother?

"I dunno. You could wash my mouth out with soap?", I suggested, grinning wildly at the ludicrous answer my brain produced.

"There are a lot of other methods of cleaning out that filthy mouth. First, lets see what you've drawn", he leaned over me from behind, the proximity making me shiver slightly. I had ended up sketching a very graphic scene from a porno I had watched the other night. It had two guys, one was on his knees in front of the other. The guy receiving the blowjob had an expression of pure bliss on his face, lips stretched into a perfect 'o'.

I glanced up at Mr. Way as he examined the work, and his lips twisted into a devious grin, "This is what you desire most, Frank?", his voice was rough, and before I could answer, I was pulled to my feet by my collar and pushed against my desk, a pair of lips colliding with mine. Mr. Way's lips, I vaguely realised as the kiss became more urgent, messy. I moaned lowly, and as quickly as it'd happened, he pulled away, lips shiny and swollen from kissing. Fuck. That image was going into the spank-bank.

"On your knees, Frankie", he commanded, and I felt myself still at the obedience in his tone. Wrong move. His eyes darkened, and he pushed me forcefully to my knees, hastily undoing his zipper.

"Suck," he commanded, the authoritative tone sending me into autopilot. I took him in as far as I could, which was difficult considering this wasnt some teenagers cock. I'd had experience with that, plenty of it. No, this was a full grown, thick, hard cock. My teachers cock, I chuckled around his length, and felt a stinging pain in my scalp. He yanked my hair harder, and I felt tears prick my eyes but still went on with my task.

"Fuck, Frankie. So good, you like that don't you? Like being on your knees like a filthy cock-whore. This a good enough way to clean that dirty mouth out? Me, fucking your pretty little mouth raw." I let a strangled moan escape my lips, and he pushed himself in deeper, until I was gagging.

Automatically, I pulled back but two hands on the back of my head kept me in place, forcing me to keep still. Frantically, I choked out as he fucked my throat in sharp, short thrusts. He ignored it, hissing out swears and moans, before going still. He came in long, thick, salty streams down my throat. I let out a muffled groan as I swallowed it, and he withdrew his cock from my mouth, shuddering. I gasped and coughed frantically, my throat feeling raw, and well, fucked.

"Turn around." The command took my by surprise, but I immediately complied. He sat down on his desk chair, and pointed to his lap. Confused, and turned on beyond disbelief, I stretched myself out on his lap, facing downwards.
He pulled my jeans down, leaving me completely bare considering I'd gone commando today. Fuck. I felt my cheeks burn (ass cheeks or my facial cheeks, both really) as I heard him chuckle, and I wriggled against him, desperate for some friction on my leaking cock.

"Still, baby. Stay still, ill make it so good for you", his words were full of promise, but before I could ask what he actually meant, his hand came down on my bare ass, hard. I let out a cry, the stinging pain coursing through me. He merely laughed and his hand came down even harder this time.
Exactly eighteen spanks later, I felt myself go completely numb. On the ninteenth one, however, an extremely strong pleasure came over me. Fucking flying. I vaguely heard myself moaning and cursing, but I didn't care about how embarrassing I sounded. I writhed against him as the smacks came down harder and harder.

"Fuck, Mr-Mr-Way. So close, fucking flying. More, please, harder, shit", I slurred out, rutting against him even harder. He responded with a growl and his hand slammed down against me one last time before I came harder than ever before, the hot strings staining my shirt and his skinny jeans.

"Up you go, c'mon Frankie, there you go." Mr Way helped me stand up cautiously, surveying my expression. The room was still spinning, and I felt my lips stretch into a lazy grin.

"M'fucking flying, so good", I slurred again, and swayed on the spot. He smiled at me, the expression dark and wild, before pulling me into another bruising kiss. The rational part of my brain came back slowly, and I blinked at him when he pulled away.

"Well, I think you've learned your lesson, Frankie. You're dismissed, and I trust you won't be acting up in my class again?", he questioned, going to sit down at his desk, leaving me dazed and confused.

"O-okay. Bye, Mr Way", I stammered out, grabbing my bag and running out of the room at top speed. What the fuck just happened?

Notes

:)