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

Twenty-one - If You Carry On This Way

I might as well have just suggested we cook meth in his pristine kitchen, because he stared at me with that kind of horrified yet incredulous expression on his face that suggested that he wasn't sure if I was all there or not.

"Do you...do you want to repeat that? I'm not sure if I heard you right." He said slowly, and I let out a sigh.

"Don't make me repeat it, Gerard." I said.

"Well don't talk shit then!" I winced. "Don't you think that if I wanted to be with Bert, I would've fucking grovelled to him by now?" I remained silent, dropping my gaze to the floor. "Frank, I - I can't believe you just said that."

Neither could I, but of course, me and my big fucking mouth. This was precisely why I didn't tell people how I felt - because I knew I did it wrong.

"Don't you think that if I wanted to be with anyone, I would've made an effort to start dating?" He sighed heavily. "You can't tell me what to do! Besides, Bert doesn't want me anymore! Why would I want to be with someone that doesn't want me? That's just - that's just ridiculous! God, don't you ever think about what you're saying?"

My head snapped up, and I stared at him, horrified. It was one thing to say no - which he could've at least done in a pleasant manner - but it was another to make me feel shit about it. "Maybe I just want you to be happy! Maybe I'm just trying to look out for you! Maybe I don't want you to go to jail!"

He scoffed. "I'm not going to go to jail, because we're not gonna be together!"

"We've been fucking for the past week, and sucking each other's dicks for longer! It can't get anymore illegal than that!"

"Well maybe it should fucking stop then!"

I stopped, my mouth falling open. "That's not what I wanted to happen." I said in a small voice.

"Oh really?" His voice was sarcastic and acidic, and I looked away from him, rubbing my right arm with my left hand. "So telling me that I should get back with my ex totally isn't telling me that you want this to stop."

"I don't want this to stop." I admitted, my hand tightening around my bicep, my nails digging into my skin through my shirt.

"Neither do I, but it feels like you do."

I heard him turn around and storm upstairs, slamming his bedroom door shut, the sound echoing through the house. He was right. I didn't think about what I was saying. I just spoke and then regretted it later. My whole life was made up of talking shit without thinking and then making a complete ass out of myself.

I rolled my lips into my mouth, feeling tears rise, but I pushed them back, reaching shakily for my coffee. Why couldn't I have just kept it to myself? That would've been better. Preferable. We wouldn't be in this mess. Gerard wouldn't have had to make me feel like shit. I didn't want what Gerard and I had going on to stop, not in the slightest, but I just thought...

...well. I didn't think, did I? Clearly.

How long I stood in the kitchen for, I didn't know, but I heard the distinct sound of the bedroom door opening and the bathroom door closing, and then the shower turned on. My coffee was cold but I sipped at it anyway, grimacing at the taste. I gave up halfway through, pouring it down the sink and leaning against the counter, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

Several minutes later, when the bathroom door had shut again and the hairdryer had started up, I decided that I'd better go and apologise to him. After all, he deserved an apology, because it was my fault, and I had upset him.