School Hours (Frerard) [Completed!]

Chapter Ten - White Paint Matches Black Ties

Frank's POV

I bubble with excitement as I make my way to my second period. Yes, you guessed it; Art. I get to see Mr. Way in those tight jeans of his, but this time, I know there is something between us; we aren't just a hot teacher and a student who craves that piece of ass.

Do you know the feeling when you've eaten the last cookie in the jar but nobody knows? That's what I'm feeling right now, like I committed an awful but at the same time so ecstatic crime. It's like the 'forbidden fruit', it tastes so good, but it's prohibited to eat, nonetheless, you've taken a bite.

I knew my relationship with Gerard was illegal, but I was still willing to try, and he was risking everything for it as well, which made this ten times better.

With almost half an hour to spare since I had "talked back" to my teacher and she sent me to the Principal's office (which of course I was not headed to), I happily make my way to Art with a wide grin on my face, I wouldn't be surprised if I was actually skipping to class instead of walking. But before I could turn left in the deserted hallway, a hand grabs me by my schoolbag and yanks me to the side so my back hits the wall. It's not hard enough to hurt, but I am angered at my attacker.

My brow furrows in anger and I open my mouth to start shouting at the dumbass who thought they could just shove me to the side like a sack of potatoes. When I flick my fringe to the side, my eyes meet the person I least expected.

"Shouldn't you be in class, faggot?" Kyle smirks down at me as he places a hand on top of my head. He stood at almost 6'1, so I was a dwarf compared to his tanned, muscular form.

I cross my arms and stand up straighter, raising my eyebrows. "Shouldn't you be in class?" I retort back, and he chuckles. I expect him to step back and leave me alone, but instead he leans down, dangerously close to my face and way too close for my liking.

"You better show up at my party next week, faggot," Kyle's breath hits my face, and although I can't help but want to ask him where he bought his delicious cologne, I refrain from doing so. I look away from him, making my expression seem uninterested and bored.

"Yeah, whatever, maybe I'll make an appearance," I was definitely going, Kyle threw the hugest parties and had booze to throw to the roof, and they usually turned out super crazy. There was this party of his in Sophomore year when some strippers showed up, and on Junior year they got Cher fucking Lloyd to go to the party. How is beyond me, but the point is: Kyle's parties rocked.

His smirk widens, and he taps the wall above me as he speaks. "That's what I like to hear, cocksucker," And then he's gone. With long, confident steps he strides out of the corridor, leaving me with a frown etched on my face.

Just what the fuck was that?

Oh well, I have a hot piece of ass to see.

I remember Gerard telling me the group he usually had Thursdays on first period was gone on a student trip or whatever, so this time was perfect to visit him, even if we only had about twenty minutes to fool around. And by fool around I totally mean touch each other's dicks. Maybe.

I swing the door open and am about to scream a greeting when I trip over nothing and catch myself before I land face-first onto the ground, resulting in me releasing with what sounded like a yelp, making Gerard look up from the papers he was grading at me and raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, hey," I sheepishly grin and give him a small wave, embarrassed by my not-so-manly sound and lean against the door I closed and locked.

"Hey, you," He says with a grin and places his pen down, motioning for me to go to him, which I do without complaints and I sit on his lap, my legs dangling at his side. "Shouldn't you be in class?" Is the first thing he asks as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he does the same but around my waist, holding me in place.