Teacher's Pet (Frerard)

1: A heart attack in black hair dye.

A/N: ok so this fic isn't gonna be too long, like less than ten chapters, but i've had this idea for a while and i thought it would be a nice break from intense writing! i've got a similar one planned too, except the roles are reversed so its daddy teacher gee and little frankie. i'm really excited for these so i hope you like them! enjoy!

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Very few things stood out about Belleville High. It was an average school, with average teachers, teaching average students just to dole out average grades. The same cliché high school football team and cheer leading squad, as well as all the classic cliques that wandered about the halls between classes.

There was perhaps one thing that did stand out among the crowds of mindless people though - at least to Mr. Frank Iero, twelfth grade English teacher. That one thing was Gerard Way, a queer boy if he'd ever seen one, and even that was sometimes an understatement. Gerard was an inch or two taller than Frank (although pretty much everyone was) with shoulder-length, soft, dyed black hair that framed his perfectly round face. He had an upturned, pointy nose, with big, round, hazel eyes, accompanied by long lashes, and a delicate set of thin lips. He was a bigger boy, his full hips swayed constantly when he walked, and Gerard Way could fill out a pair of skinny jeans better than any girl in the entire school. Mr. Iero was all too aware of that fact, and he'd be willing to bet not just the entire school - but the entire state. Scratch that - the entire country, if not, the fucking world.

Frank knew he was a creep and a pervert and all sorts of other words for looking at one of his students like that, but he couldn't help himself. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, Gerard always managed to have some sort of force going on that brought all the attention onto him. At least that was how Frank felt.

Gerard Way had a seemingly love-hate relationship with the other students at the school. Some girls would compliment him on things, jocks would tease him for the same things and try to beat him up in the halls. He sat with the same five people every day at lunch: Lindsey Ballato, Jamia Nestor, Ray Toro, Mikey Way (his younger brother) and a kid everyone just knew by the name "Worm". Gerard sat in the back of Frank's class every day, drawing in his sketchbook and occasionally taking notes or doing whatever assignment Frank had decided to give out. He had average grades himself, like most of the other students, but those grades did not reflect Gerard Way at all.

The fact that Gerard was eighteen made Frank feel a little more at ease, as dumb and even sick as it sounds, but it was all he had to make him feel like he wasn't a total asshole. On top of that, there was only a few months left in the school year, so Gerard would be graduating soon. The thought of that was a bit saddening, but at the same time it comforted him, telling himself that maybe he would actually have a chance with the boy.

The bell that signaled the start of class rang sharply through the building and jolted Frank out of his thoughts. It was third period, the class right before lunch and more specifically, the one in which he had Gerard.

He and Lindsey were two of the last students to enter the room, borderline tardy, having been in the hall talking to Worm, whose class was right next door. Frank motioned for everyone to take their seats so he could begin his lesson, watching Gerard from the corner of his eye. The boy was wearing tight-fitting black skinny jeans, the usual for him, and a Danzig t-shirt that was a little stretched over his belly. His lips were pink, and his eyes were heavy-lidded, yet somehow bright, and he took his seat in the back of the room next to Lindsey shooting a glance at Mr. Iero before turning back to his friend with a smile.

Frank started his lesson for the day, spouting out words and concepts without really thinking - he knew what he was talking about. And the fact that he was so at ease with his job made it a lot easier to focus the attention on the boy in the back of his room, who ever so frustratingly managed to make every little movement he made provocative.