Tell Me I'm A Bad Man [Teacher/Student Frerard]

Eighteen - You're Beautiful To Me

[WARNING: yeah there's more smut in this, and more sex, quelle surprise; if this is put on private, then I'll try and edit it so it's not, and if it isn't on private, then ignore this part of the message. If you don't wanna read them going at it, feel free to skip or whatever - just don't say I didn't warn you;) that it? I think so; enjoy the chapter! -xocharr]

"Ow! Shit!"

My eyes slowly opened, and I rubbed them as a stream of curses floated upstairs from the kitchen, followed by the smell of burning. Throwing the duvet back, I did my best to retrieve some form of clothing - a pair of boxers and a shirt that more than likely belonged to Gerard - and then padded slowly downstairs, suitably confused.

Gerard was in the kitchen, and he was attempting to cook, by the look of it. It clearly wasn't working, judging by the mess in the pan and the clutter on the counters. He himself was stood by the sink, running one of his hands under the cold tap. His hair was messy, and he was in a pair of black pajama pants, an apron on over his bare chest.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled, startling him.

"Hey, baby." He smiled, as I approached him. "I, uh, wanted to make you breakfast. It didn't work out."

"Did you burn yourself?" I took his right hand, looking it over.

"A little, but it's okay." My eyebrows rose. "All right, it freaking hurts, but it doesn't matter." I pressed a kiss to the heel of his hand, where the burn was, making him smile. "You're so cute."

"Shut up." I felt myself blush, and he kissed my lips, still smiling.

"Happy birthday, sugar."

I'd momentarily forgotten about that. "I feel old." I grimaced, and he laughed, turning the cold tap off before the sink flooded.

"You're eighteen. How do you think I feel?"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Do you have any cigarettes?" He nodded towards the kettle, where his keys, gum, and cigarettes were. I kissed his cheek before taking the packet and heading out to the back.

I sat down, realising that this was a really bad idea because fuck me it was cold outside. But I shrugged it off, lighting up my first cigarette of the day. The first was always the best. Don't ask why, it just was.

"Hey, Gee?" I called back, and he appeared beside me a few seconds later, apron-less and carrying the same white carrier bag from a couple of days ago. "What time is it?"

"Uh...not long after ten." He smiled. "Just you and me today, yeah?"

"We discussed this last night." I raised an eyebrow, and he grinned.

"You mean, we actually had a conversation last night?"

I laughed, nudging him. "What's in the bag?"

He just handed it to me, a smirk playing around his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him before carefully looking inside it. My eyes widened as my hand picked up each of the items.

"How high were you when you bought this stuff?" Was the first sentence that left my mouth, and he burst out laughing. "I'm serious!"

"Oh my God, Frank." He said, a good few minutes later, after he'd stopped laughing and I'd finished my cigarette. He took my hand and pulled me inside, past what was meant to be breakfast, and upstairs. "I want to take you out for breakfast but I can't."

"I'm okay with toast, dork." I smiled, tossing the bag onto the bed.

"But I wanted it to be nice for you."