Final Exams (Frerard)

Final Exams

"THAT LITTLE FUCKING SON OF A FUCK OF A PROFESSOR IS A FUCKING PRICK WHO CAN SUCK MY ASS FOR ALL I CARE!"

Frank Iero jumped as another scream filled the air and a thud was heard, shaking the thin walls of his dorm room. Once again, it was finals time on campus and once again, insanity had set it. Frank couldn't blame this latest student to fall to the presser, earlier he too was screaming and throwing a fit. He broke a porcelain pot, much to his roommate's dismay. It sounded like his next door neighbour was having a pretty tough time, though.

"You should go over and say 'hello'," Frank's roommate, Ray, suggested, looking up from his psychology book. Frank looked at him as if Ray suggested mass murder, "I'm sure he's a nice guy."
"Torito, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."
"That's coming from a guy who, well, what are you majoring in?"
"Fucking shit up."
"Don't really think that's a major."
"I major in ass-kicking and I minor in smashing your face in."
"You're majoring in fucking music studies because at 3 in the morning you said, 'Fuck, I didn't plan anything out, what do my classes coordinate to so far, music looks good, let's go with that'."
"True."
"Exactly. So, go out and make friends."
"Maybe he's gay and I can fuck him so hard he completely forgets about finals."
"Frank, no."
"Frank, yes."
"You are literally a college freshman," Ray said, gesturing with his hands, "Unless they are a freshman too, there is no way you're getting the booty. Even if they were a freshman, the chances are still no."

"I'm gonna get myself some of that man booty."
"You go do that, Frank."

Frank stood up from his swivel chair and walked across the small dorm room, giving Ray a small ass shake.

"Get your ass out of here."
"Fine. I see where I stand."

He pushed open the door and stepped out into the war zone of the hallway, letting the door shut behind him. He ducked a flying wad of paper and knocked on his neighbour's door. He leant himself up against the wall, trying to make himself look as attractive as possible. He had one shot to impress whoever was on the other side of the door and prove Ray wrong. Hopefully, he wouldn't end up with someone too unattractive. Frank ran his hand through his classic reverse-skunk mohawk as the door opened. This whole charade better had been worth it or-

Holy shit, the neighbour was fucking gorgeous.

A pair of hazel eyes stared back at him, hidden under a shoulder length mess of black hair. He was pale and look a little sickly, plus looked stressed beyond repair. He looked like he had walked through hell and back, then went back for a second round just to spite everyone, then regretted that decision. Frank smirked, knowing he hit the jackpot.

"Hiya. Heard some shit going on next door. Thought I might pop in and check to make sure no one was dead," Frank said, leaning in a little closer.
"Physically, no," the stranger replied, his voice heavily tainted with a Jersey accent and the harshness of a cigarette smoker, "Mentally, yes."
"Well, fuck. Need any help?"
"I've been playing 'The Final Countdown' on repeat as I tried to study for a fucking language exam while eating my weight in Instant Ramen. I need more help than you can give me. But that's my therapist's job."
"Yeah, I can't help you there. Anyways, might as well introduce myself. Frank Iero. Freshman. Majoring in general music studies," Frank said, holding out his hand. The stranger smiled and took his hand, firmly shaking it.
"Gerard Way. Senior. Majoring in comic books. Local art fag."

Frank mentally cheered. Score.

"Well, then," he replied, giving Gerard a grin, "We'll get along just fine."
"That's good. Come on in, Oreo."

The two stepped into Gerard's dorm. It was a mess of Instant Ramen wrappers, sketches, comic books, clothing, and everything in between. A bunk bed with Star Wars blankets was in the corner, with a computer blaring Europe.

"You were not kidding on the 'Final Countdown' statement."
"I know I wasn't. That's just how sad my life is here as a college student."
"Not a bad place, though."
"Thank you," Gerard mused, going over and flopping on the lower bunk. He gestured for Frank to sit, "My brother went out. Probably to drink and get laid. He won't be back for a while."
"So, it's just you?"
"Yup. Just me. A sexually-frustrated and all around frustrated artist who really needs to get out and get some fresh air into his system before he snaps and kills a man."
"Oh."
"Yes."
"Can I assist in this murder?" Frank asked, laying on the bed next to Gerard.
"How good are you at hiding bodies?"
"I can easily learn."
"Then yes, yes you may."

The two laughed at the morbid humour, Gerard pulling his computer into his lap so he could switch the accursed Europe to something more do-able. David Bowie blared out Gerard's speakers as he set the laptop on the floor and pushed it away. He lay back, looking over at Frank.

"So, what are you doing out and about? Besides checking to make sure that nobody died."
"I'm fucking hunting for man booty."
"Swiggity swooty, you're coming for that booty."
"Hell yeah, I am."

Gerard lightly chuckled as Frank gave him a sly grin. Gerard widened his eyes and gave him a mockingly suspicious look.

"What is going on in that tiny head of yours?"
"Wanna make out?"
"Sure. Not like I had anything better to do."

Frank rolled over and pinned Gerard to the bed, forcefully kissing the older male. Gerard groaned, grinding up against him. The two knew it was going to be a long and fun night.

***

Ray Toro sat alone in his room, blaring whatever loud music he could find on his computer. Anything to cover up the groans coming from the dorm next door. He mentally screamed and stood up, pounding on the wall.

"WILL YOU TWO CUT IT OUT?!"

The response consisted in stifled laughter, followed by a loud moan. Ray facepalmed, throwing himself back into his chair.