Frank could barely contain himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Ray. He was stood next to the school bus, and waved frantically when he saw the familiar explosion of hair. Ray’s size gave him the advantage of scaring the freshmen out of the way, and he made a beeline for his overexcited friend. As if he even needed guiding – he’d been to Frank’s house so many times he’d have to count on four hands.

“Toro, dude!” Frank launched at his friend, slamming into his shoulder. Ray knew this was just Frank being friendly, showing his affection, but it still made him grunt when the air was knocked from him.

“Oof, fuck. Hey Frank.” He grinned through the pain, hooking an arm around the shorter boy’s neck and prying him away.

Now it was Frank’s turn to splutter when Ray squeezed playfully. He let go swiftly, not wanting their friendly wrestling to be mistaken for a serious brawl by any teachers on bus duty. That had happened once, a few months ago, and resulted in Ray getting a week’s detention. Frank tried to protest but their school counselor had stopped listening by that point, busying himself with organising his collection of smiley face stickers instead. So of course, Frank punched Ray, in the face. Without warning. That evened up their detentions (it took a week for Ray to forgive Frank anyway).

“So, what’s all this hype about anyway? You said you were with the principle at lunch?” Ray questioned, following Frank onto the rumbling bus. Ray flinched each time the rucksack, slung casually across one of Frank’s shoulders, swung dangerously close to his face.
The pair settled in a seat near the back, Frank ducking as an empty Lucozade bottle rocketed his way.

“Oi! Watch it, Urie!” Frank barked, rolling his eyes. “God, that kid’s annoying. Anyway yeah, there’s this thing that- Urie, quit it!”Frank yanked at the pens that were gradually accumulating in Ray’s hair, making the other wince in pain. Frank apologised quietly to his friend before throwing them back at the kid a few seats in front of them, twice as hard. “Seriously, why does Brendon do that? And more importantly, why do you put up with it?” He looked seriously at Ray, who just sighed.

“I dunno. I just ignore it, it doesn’t bother me that much.” He shrugged.

Frank’s eyes softened. “I bet it’s because he’s jealous of your fucking awesome ‘fro.” He grinned, nudging the other. Then the bus lurched and the engine coughed, and began to slowly trundle down the road. Another empty bottle whizzed past.

“Urie!”

---

Frank kicked off his shoes the moment he got through the door. “The weekend starts now!” He crowed triumphantly. Ray made an injured noise in the back of his throat as he watched Frank’s shoes leave an ugly black mark against the wall and shuffled to the end of the hall to toe off his own. He put them carefully on the heap of beaten-up trainers and scuffed school shoes, rubbing half-heartedly at the smudge before following his friend into the kitchen.
Frank was twirling around clumsily, opening and slamming cupboard doors and drawers until he produced a green packet of crisps.

“The weekend means it’s shopping night, which also means…” There was a dramatic pause as the packet was opened, “…Mom isn’t home.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively as he munched on a crisp. “And you know what that means.” Frank stalked over to Ray, who was staring with a bored expression. Ray watched the same routine every Friday he was over. Frank would step through the door, add another dent to the wall, grab the last packet of cheap crisps and-

He was mouthing the words passively as Frank cried “It’s time to smoke up!”

-Smoke up.

Ray didn’t mind, of course. Frank was actually really fucking funny when he was high, and he always gave Ray a fair amount of time holding the blunt. Ray never took more than four hits, because it was bad enough that the stench clung to his school shirt that he needed to wear the next day, let alone having his breath stink of weed. Plus, his brothers would catch him and totally snitch, the bastards.

“I hear ya.” Ray rolled his eyes but still had a smile on his face as he followed his over-excited friend upstairs.

Frank’s bedroom was, like always, a bombsite. Clumps of half-worn shirts carved an obstacle course and odd socks littered the floor like deadly mines. Frank trampled over it all, kicking some of it to the sides with a grunt.

“Shit man, sorry. I was gonna tidy up yesterday but I had a bad night.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face at the memory. Goddamn Mr Barron.

Ray followed Frank’s freshly-cleared path and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s fine, I have brothers, remember? I had to share with two of ‘em until last year.” His nose scrunched up at the memory. God, that tiny room had fucking reeked of disgusting underwear- all the time.
Now he thought about it, Frank’s bedroom kinda stank of underwear too, but… it was different. A different stink, one without the eau de sweaty balls. Whatever, it was still a gross smell. He scanned the clothes that were now bordering the room and saw bundles of patterned boxers. One pair had the Batman logo on the crotch, another had tiny guitars dotted all over.

“Your underwear is really cool… mine are just boring greys and purples.” Ray said glumly, pinging the elastic of his own plain boxers. He really needed some cool ones. Maybe they’d start selling Halloween-themed ones soon?

“Oh my god I know what I’m getting you for your birthday.” Ray suddenly beamed, “Speaking of which, are you having a party? I mean you’re turning sixteen- the most looked-forward-to day of a boy’s life!”

Frank crawled out from where he’d been shuffling under the bed, a shoebox under his arm. He looked up at the other skeptically.

“Okay Mister I-Got-Birthday-Sex, let’s calm it down a bit over there.” He couldn’t help the smug smile on his lips when Ray’s cheeks flushed.

“H-Hey! I never said that!” He exclaimed. The subject had already grown boring to Frank however, because he was now absorbed in rolling a perfect joint, the smile still on his face. He held it aloft like a trophy.

“Perfect!” He grinned triumphantly. It was far from. Ray cut him some slack though, because he knew Frank was new to this stuff, and usually bought his joints pre-rolled.

Frank sat next to Ray on the bed, snatching the lighter from his bedside table. He shook it, hearing a small, sad slosh.

“I’m nearly out of lighter fluid again.” He huffed, the flame flickering as it struggled to light the joint. Eventually it did so, and Frank muttered, “I should probably take my binder off. Eh, whatever.” Before inhaling deeply. He groaned happily and held it out to Ray, who was shrugging off his blazer and tucking it under a pillow to try and stop it getting infected with the smell. He willingly plucked it from Frank’s nail-bitten fingers and took a hit himself.

“So Frank, this lunch thing with Mrs Forrest. Care to tell me about it? You seemed super hyped earlier.”

Notes

Hey guys, thanks to all of your who are still keeping up with this story! I've started putting this story up on the regular Mibba site, AO3, and Wattpad now, too.