Frank had thought about his 'situation' long and hard between mindlessly eating lukewarm noodles, rubbing body-wash into his hair by mistake during his evening shower and finally climbing into bed at two in the morning, and he had come to a conclusion: nothing could happen between himself and Mr Way. It just couldn't.

Not only was Frank a minor - not that it bothered him much, but he was using it as an excuse to justify his decision - but he was also Mr Way's student! It just wouldn't be right, and if anyone found out ... well. Everybody involved could get in serious trouble, Frank thought, and left it at that. God, what would his friends - ok, friend: Ray - think? What would his other teachers think?

What would his mother think? Frank had only just got her back; he couldn't risk losing her again over something as petty as mindless, innocent, illegal flirting.

If Mr Way tried anything at school tomorrow, which Frank was sure he wouldn't, Frank would just be cool and distant and wouldn't respond with anything remotely friendly. He would be civil, but not so polite that he could be accused of sending his teacher mixed signals; despite how cute Mr Way's slightly upturned nose was, or how sweet his small, perfectly white teeth looked when he laughed, or how his fingers felt in Frank's hair ... Despite all of that, Frank would not be reciprocating any feelings. None whatsoever. Not at all.

Frank would just roll with it, and see where tomorrow took him.

***

Ray's battered old Subaru pulled up in Frank's driveway while Frank was still eating breakfast. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day in Frank's opinion and if you didn't like it? Well, shut the door behind you, thank you very much.

Ray beamed at Frank who glared back at him sleepily, still holding a half eaten, slightly burnt pop tart in his right hand and a Wheatabix breakfast drink in the other. When Ray seemed content to do nothing but stand there and smile happily at Frank until Frank moved his 'lazy ass into the back seat because my back called shotgun', Frank sighed and moved out of the way.

"Get in here asshole." Frank groaned regretfully, struggling not to spill his drink all over the carpet as Ray bounded inside, grinning like a cat when Frank cursed at him.

"I act as your personal chauffeur, Frankie baby, the least you can do is make me breakfast." he argued and, sadly, Frank had to agree with his logic.

"Well screw you too Toro." Frank mumbled angrily as he half crushed a chocotastic pop tart whilst stuffing it into the toaster. He narrowly avoided getting a drink coaster in the back of the head; Ray would never misbehave in front of Linda Iero, no matter how hungry he was.

"Watch what you say Frank." She warned jokingly, shooting Frank a warning stare and Ray a happy smile. Frank scowled at just how fucking unfair it was that his own mother preferred the Toro Monster to her own son, and Ray just smirked and put his feet up on the table, reclining on the chair.

"Morning Mrs Iero!" Ray chirped, and Frank snorted. Loser was a total suck up; the action only earned him an elbow to his ribs though. "How've you been?"

"Not too bad Ray. And yourself?"

"Ah, can't complain. Frankie here makes sure I hand all my homework in on time at least."
Frank couldn't help but giggle girlishly at this because he was pretty sure it was a year since Ray last handed in a piece of homework. Ray stuck his tongue out at him and that was it for Frank. Grabbing Ray's arm, he said goodbye to his mother and shut the door with a bang behind him.

"Hey! I never got my pop tart!" Ray complained angrily, turning his key in the ignition of his car like a six year old child sulking. Frank didn't answer; he was too busy worrying about his History lesson first period. He had a lesson today and one lesson last period on Thursday, and that was it for the week. He was dreading going through just one week - how was he supposed to survive an entire year? Maybe he could change his timetable? Get put in another class? Get another teacher?

"Frank? Frank!" Ray exclaimed, punching his friend's arm playfully. Frank had been so caught up in thinking about his problems that he hadn't noticed Ray had been yelling his name loud
enough for the people walking up the street to turn and stare at them.

"Huh? What?" Frank mumbled apologetically.

"I asked where you went yesterday? You never skip so what happened?"

Frank sighed. What to tell Ray? He could tell him the truth? But then... what was the truth? Telling him that he had kissed Mr Way wasn't true. Not really. But he didn't want to lie to his best friend, his only friend.

So he settled on saying, "I didn't feel too good after fourth. I just wanted to go home before I puked."

It wasn't a lie exactly. Frank had felt like he was going to puke ... after he had downed a couple of drinks and had time to think about everything that had gone down. Ray accepted the lie without argument though, deciding not to call Frank out or ask him why he didn't at least text him to let him know, and Frank was grateful for that.

They pulled up and parked in the teacher's car park because unlike Frank, Ray couldn't give two shits about rules and regulations, and it was closer to the school than the regular car park. They walked in together quickly, trying not to be noticed as they dashed across the school grounds towards their homeroom. Frank didn't want to get called up on skipping yesterday.
Frank and Ray talked all throughout tutor time and by the time Frank had a chance to look around and process where the morning had gone, he was already standing in his familiar history room, staring at his seemingly innocent seat in the middle of the room. Frank shuddered at the memory of yesterday, unaware that the man in question was in fact standing right behind him, watching him react to his memories and smirking at him.

Frank just about got a heart attack when he felt a rush of hot air on his neck and a voice in his ear, whispering, "Are you going to stand and stare at it, or actually go and sit in it?"
Frank went red and the class laughed at his embarrassment like the drama-hungry hyenas they all were, leaving Frank to shuffle to his seat with a lump in his throat. So much for trying to avoid contact with Mr Way.

"So, class," Mr Way began, addressing the students, "I know its the first lesson and you all want to go to sleep ... but tough shit. This is my class, and in my class you have to pay attention if you want to avoid ... punishments."

Oh God.

Ohgodohgodohgod.

Mr Way was totally looking at Frank when he said that and there was no way he could have missed the shiver that went through Frank's entire body when he said that. What the hell was he doing?! He was the teacher! He was supposed to be the mature one! Not the one pushing things to go further.

"So, you should all have your notes from yesterday's lesson. You're all required to write a 2000 word essay surrounding what you see as the most important set of notes from yesterday's documentary. Now, originally I was going to set this as homework but I'm feeling generous. You can start it in the lesson now; if you finish it: great, no homework for you. If not, then complete it at home and hand it in tomorrow."

A ripple of excited, hushed whispering went through the class; everyone was obviously happy not to have been given more work to do at home. Frank however, who had stumbled to his chair embarrassedly, was glowering at his desk, pointedly ignoring his teacher and that stupid smug grin on his face. How had he never seen Mr Way for the annoying asshole he really was?
And then - oh. Mr Way was definitely mocking him now, because he knew Frank didn't have the notes for class. He hadn't got any work done in his 'detention' yesterday lunch time, and of course he wasn't going to go home and do more work for History class after what had happened. He was in trouble now.

Mr Way, to Frank's complete and utter horror, began walking over to his desk. Frank genuinely thought he was going to say something, something loud and humiliating and incriminating in front of all Frank's classmates, so he breathed out a little sigh of relief when all he did was drop a piece of crumpled paper on the desk. Looking down, Frank saw half a page of work notes in Mr Way's messy, scribbled handwriting.

"You ought to be more careful with your things, Iero. You left that in my classroom yesterday." And then he winked, like the cocky, arrogant douchebag he was.

Frank went red and immediately looked around the room, checking to see if anybody had clocked their teacher's weird behaviour, but of course nobody was even paying the slightest attention to them. Why would they? They were all hurriedly getting on with their work so they didn't have to do it for homework. Something that Frank himself would have been doing, if Mr Way wasn't distracting him with sexy winks and provocative word choices. Asshole.
Whatever. Frank had made a promise to himself that Mr Way's teasing wouldn't get to him. He had sworn he would stay away from his teacher. If only said teacher wasn't making it so difficult to keep that promise.

He didn't bother thanking Mr Way for the notes, and instead decided to get stuck into the work so he didn't have to spend any longer than necessary with the irritating man.
Halfway through the lesson, Frank looked up from his desk to see Mr Way was no longer at the front of the class, and then promptly had a heart attack when the very man himself put his hands on the back of Frank's chair. Managing to stop himself from screaming in fear, Frank took a deep breath to calm himself and in doing so inhaled whatever cologne Mr Way used that morning. It was intoxicating.

"Finding the work okay, Iero?" Mr Way leaned down and whispered into Frank's ear, his warm breath ghosting over Frank's neck as the boy shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes sir." Frank croaked out, cringing when his voice broke.

"Good." And then Mr Way's hands were on his shoulders and moving down his arms to his elbows and it was times like these that Frank really wished he sat at the back of the class. A thought briefly crossed his mind but he dispelled it immediately, the contact his teacher was giving him was enough to disorientated him. It was something like, 'I'm pretty sure this is assault', and yeah. If Frank had been more alert and was able to think straight, this would have felt a lot like assault, but as it was, Frank couldn't care less. All he wanted was more; more contact, more whispered words, more Mr Way.

Just as Mr Way's hands were about to reach Frank's waist - and Frank couldn't help but marvel at how soft they felt through his clothes, and how soft they would feel without his clothes - Mr Way stood and pulled away, acting as if nothing had happened. He walked away without a backwards glance, leaving Frank flustered and red in the face. When the bell rung for next lesson, Frank was the first out of the door.

Notes

Enjoy. <3