R U Mine?

The last day before the start of the second semester, Gerard is awfully quiet.

It’s sad, really, since he should probably be out spending the best time of his life with his friends instead of mooning in silence over the sorrowful destiny of his relationship with his Lit teacher. It sounds so stupid when it’s put that way and it certainly doesn’t help the nausea he’s been trying to control for days now. It’s kind of miserable, since all he’s really been doing is pining, avoiding everyone who cares about him and stealing more and more of Frank’s clothes because he feels like he might go insane after a while without the smell.
It kind of seems surreal, really, because the nature of their relationship isn’t very complicated- it’s the circumstances. And Gerard hates that, because it reminds him that they’re always going to be just that to the world- fucking misunderstood. And it’s so dumb because it’s globally believed that, if a teacher gets involved with a student, it’s a purely physical thing and has nothing to do with anything but getting each other off while pumped on the adrenaline that comes with the general sin of the situation.
And that makes it even funnier because it’s so not true- Gerard and Frank are more of a middle aged married couple than anything else.

It’s not like everything is perfect, though. Gerard feels kind of like his happiness is being drained out of him- it seems as if he’s being somehow mentally violated and he’s really not digging it. It’s caused a number of fights so far, and he hates how he’s always the one who raises his voice more- he’s always the cause, the hysterical side of their relationship. And it fucking sucks because it always looks like it’s his fault, when in reality it’s nobody’s fault because they’re not even fighting about anything in particular. It always ends the same, Gerard starts sobbing and Frank just holds him tight and promises that it’s okay. It’s kind of annoying, actually, because Frank is so calm and collected and perfect and Gerard just wants to stab him for making him look bad all the time. But he knows Frank knows it’s tough because it’s tough on him, too, even though he’d never admit it.

Because Gerard sees the look Frank gives him when he mentions the fact that father called again and will call a lot more- he’ll do it until his mother says yes. And perhaps that’s the right thing to do because Gerard, as a future college student, is supposed to care and look forward to all of that- but he doesn’t, since every damned mile he’d have to walk to get to that goddamned university is a mile away from the only thing he really wants.

But he still isn’t sure what exactly it is that’s bothering him when he’s about to turn off the lamp on his nightstand, because his mind is a fucking arms race and he can’t drive the thoughts away. It’s well past midnight when he hears his phone buzz, and his heart skips uncomfortably at the sound.

From: Frnk
I know you’re still up. Go to bed. I don’t want you dozing off during my class tomorrow.

And Gerard laughs, because there’s nothing else he can do.

To: Frnk
sure, MOM. ily

And the reply arrives when Gerard is already asleep.

From: Frnk
I love you, too, you baboon.

*

The room is way too quiet. Frank’s observing all the faces with amusement, since they all look tired and possibly hung over, with grumpy faces and curse words literally pre-prepared to be fired out if anyone asks them anything about the fact it’s the first day of school. It’s kind of shit of him, but he likes them best like this since all he can really do is sympathize.

He skims over the classroom, coffee mug in hand and glasses chucked low on his nose- he kind of feels like he’s living up to the standard. It’s stereotypical, really, this whole all-we-do-together-is-sit-on-my-couch relationship he’s got going on is turning him into a cardigan whore. He feels strangely domestic, so much that it’s becoming a guilty pleasure. Being a teacher makes you go less and less punk the more time passes, and the addition of a really nerd-ass boyfriend doesn’t help much.

“So,” he starts, and all of the heads shoot up. Gerard doesn’t bother, but it looks like he’s drawing so Frank pretends like he hasn’t noticed. “I see you’re all extensively chirpy today.”

There’s a collective groan echoing in the air for a moment, and Frank smirks- he really loves his job sometimes.

“Honestly, I feel you. If it were up to me, I’d let you all run and never come back- but it doesn’t really work that way.”

He walks to the board and grabs a chalk, messily scribbling a few words across the thing. The kids’ faces don’t look especially delighted when he turns around, and he hears Stump muttering a weirded out, reading from the board, “Have you ever been in love?”

And then Gerard’s head is up, too, giving Frank a confused look. Frank ignores him and smiles at Patrick. “Precisely, Mr. Stump. I am very glad you can read.” Patrick blushes, but rolls his eyes fondly at the way Gerard is still gazing at Frank questioningly. “Now, is anyone interested in answering my question?”

The entire class exchanges embarrassed looks, and Frank rolls his eyes- high schoolers. But then someone clears their throat and mumbles something from the back, and Frank knows he’ll regret the moment he says, “Yes, Mr. Urie?”

“Have you ever been in love, Mr. Iero?” he says, a smirk on his face. Frank really hates that boy sometimes.

“Uh, yeah,” he tries to speak casually. It’s kind of choked out, though, and a lot of kids are suddenly very interested in what he has to say. They don’t really look like they’re gonna let it slide, so he damns his profession in his head and prepares for a lot of stuttering. “I don’t really know what else to tell you.”

“Are you in love right now?” Brendon continues, twisting Frank’s nerves and making his stomach churn a bit.

“Yeah,” he admits, forcing himself not to look at Gerard. “Okay, back to the point…”

“No! Now you’ve got to tell us something about them! You started this whole thing, Mr. Iero,” a girl from the front squeaks, and Frank treats her with a sour smile. “Are they pretty?”

“Jesus,” Frank exhales, leaning against his desk and cradling his face in his hands. “How many years in prison do you think I’ll get for brutal murder of my students if I say they were interrogating me about my love life and I couldn’t help myself?”

Then there’s a chant of ‘oh, come on’ and Frank rolls his eyes tentatively, glaring at all of them. “Can anyone tell me what they know about romanticism and its most famous representatives?”

There are a few hands up in the air, and Frank gestures at one of them, a girl named Sarah, to speak. “Sure, if you tell us about your special someone.”

Frank ignores, and motions at the student further at the back with her hand up. “Don’t look at me, I support Sarah on this one.”

Frank gives a look to the last student who has his hand up in the air, but he just drops it in his lap and shrugs his shoulders, a smug grin on his face. Frank sighs and finally gives in. “Yes, yes, okay, they’re pretty.” A smile appears on his face even though he doesn’t want it there. “What do you want to know, even?”

Frank sees Gerard fidgeting in his seat from the corner of his eye, but he pays no mind to it. “Everything,” someone says, and he rolls his eyes again.

“Clumsy nerd, total sci-fi enthusiast, head in the clouds, brilliant cook, the most amazing mindset I’ve ever seen in my life, complete sappy schmoop of a person- also steals my clothes a lot. That’s about all I’ll give you.” And along to a collective ‘aw’ from the entire class, Frank makes a disgusted face.

“Do you love them?” Brendon’s voice is heard from the back row.

Frank frowns for a second, and bites his lip bashfully before replying, “Yeah. A little bit too much.”

But before any of them can say anything, Gerard’s hand flies up and catches Frank’s attention immediately. He doesn’t wait for Frank to let him speak, he just blurts out, “May I be excused? I feel sick.”

Frank only stares for a second, but then he realizes where he is and that he should probably say something. So he gives Gerard a meaningful look, but he doesn’t see it because he doesn’t make eye contact.

“Of course. Are you going home, do you need someone to help you with your stuff?”

“N-no,” he mutters, all frantic movements and distressed looks towards his hands, which are trembling quite badly.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Frank comes closer to him now, picks his pencil that has fallen to the floor due to Gerard’s shakiness, and puts it on the desk. “Gerard?” Gerard drops the book he’s holding and Frank catches it, picking the notebook up, too. “Hey, here, let me help you with that.”

“No, I’ve got it, I’m fine, I can do it alone!” Gerard shrieks so loud that Patrick jumps a little from the spot next to him, and Frank recoils on reflex, taken aback. Then he watches Gerard storm out of the classroom, arms hugging his books so tight that it looks like they might get absorbed into his body.

Frank doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to do- he’s confused, concerned and a little bit scared. Was it something he did?


But then he remembers where he is yet again, and he knows he can’t let himself dwell on something like this for long- publicly, of course, because it’s pretty evident that his head will stay a mess until Gerard clears it up for him. He just hopes that the clarification won’t fuck him up even more, since the odds are very slim on that one, he does what he does best- pretends that it doesn’t get to him. And he’s proud to say that his voice wavers just a little bit when he says, “So, can anyone tell me who Lord Byron was?”

Notes

i'm fucking sorryyyyy. i am just way too busy w/ school & arting [legitimate verb] & being too depressed to do anything w/ myself. this chapter was supposed to be hella lot longer but like it's so bad that i didn't wanna make you read more of its badness [again, legitimate word- what do you mean i can't english].

i know i am disappointing w/ literally every chapter of this sequel but i can't do anything abt it. so, sorry.

xomls