School Hours (Frerard) [Completed!]

Chapter Three - Boners and Wentz Charm

Frank's POV

 I hate teenage boy hormones.

 I hate cold showers and hot showers, because none made a difference.

 I hate boners.

  I hate hot teachers.

  My raging erection in between my palm and fingers begged to differ to that last statement.

 Wrong, wrong, wrong. This was so fucking wrong but fuck it, I couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault Gerard's ass looked so delicious in those tight black jeans of his.

 A moan makes its way out of my parted lips and I refrain myself from punching a hole in the tiled shower wall. My hand speeds up, almost on its own accord, my wrist jerking faster, trying to find release.

 When I can feel myself almost reaching my peak, I raise my face to meet the hot droplets of water falling from the shower head and onto my naked self as I continue jacking off to the image of Gerard, Mr. Way.

 "Ah, ah!" Incoherent words escape my trembling lips as I orgasm onto my palm and the shower floor. "Fuck..."

 After my intense masturbation, I continue my shower, rinsing my hair and washing my pale body, getting it rid of any evidence of what I had just done.

 When I finish showering and drying myself off, I throw on a pair of ripped jeans and a black shirt, settling on a Black Flag hoodie on top to keep my small frame from freezing. I also shove my feet into my usual black Converse and pocket my phone as well as my packet of cigarettes and shuffle downstairs and out of the door.

  I breathe in the chilly air of the New Jersey Wednesday noon and smirk to myself thinking about what my mother would say about me skipping school. She'd probably go off about how education is important and I shouldn't be skipping it to go to buy coffee and then head to the park to hang out with one of my ex-lovers who happens to be the only guy who can sneak a packet of cigarettes for me every week; Pete Wentz.

  When I arrive to the park where we usually met, I notice Pete's hair immediately and take my hands out of my hoodie's pocket and quicken my pace, a small smirk tugging at my lips as I scan his form sitting on the bench.

 "Hey, faggot!" I greet as I plop down on the bench besides him and wrap an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer to me and ruffle his hair, despite him being several inches taller than my small frame.

 Despite the hook up we had years ago, Pete and I became friends, perhaps because we were the only gay guys in all of New Jersey that we knew of or perhaps because he was eighteen and could easily and legally buy cigarettes from the pub a few streets away.

Whatever it was, the sexual encounter we had made nothing between us awkward, and although it wasn't necessarily bad, we had both agreed in staying friends, because we enjoyed each other's company, but not in that way.

Pete laughs and escapes my headlock to roll his eyes at me, to which I respond by sticking my tongue out.

"Must I remind you that you're a faggot yourself, Iero?" He jokes and I punch his arm, making him laugh again and a small chuckle escapes my lips.

 "No need to, I'm a hundred percent aware I like dicks." I say and he pulls out a packet to cigarettes, which I snatch from his hands and open immediately, ignoring his laugh and taking one out and perching it between my lips before pocketing the precious box.

 "Well someone's eager," Pete comments and takes out a lighter to light my (technically his) nicotine stick. I mumble a 'thank you' and take a few drags before he speaks again. "You want to get a coffee?" He offers and I nod.

We both stand up and make our way to the coffee shop right in front of the park, and I make sure to finish my cigarette and put it out before we enter. The warmth of a heater fills my lungs as I enter, the smell of fresh made coffee entering my nostrils and making me sigh in pleasure. I needed my morning coffee.

The shop isn't too busy since it's a Tuesday, but there were a few people scattered on the tables, and there was no line to get a hot cup of coffee, so we make our way to the cashier and wait a few seconds before a guy emerges from what I'm assuming is the back of the shop.

The guy is tall and kind of lanky, his legs were very long, making him tower over me by a few inches, and he was wearing jeans and a black shirt with a green apron with the Starbucks logo on it. He had glasses and a beanie, as well as brown straight hair and a tag that read 'Mikey' perched on his apron.

"Hey! My name's Mikey what can I-" Mikey seemed to stutter over his words as he looked up from his hands and his eyes landed on Pete, who gave a small smirk in return. "I, uh, what can I get you guys?" He rubs his hands on his clothes nervously.

 "I want a normal coffee, black please," I order and then glance at Pete, who is smirking at a very nervous Mikey, how is avoiding Pete's eyes and helplessly staring at his hands.

"What's your name?" He asks and grabs a cup then scribbles it down after I answer him with my name.

I look over at Pete and internally groan, he had his 'flirty' look on his face and his smirk grew bigger whilst he placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at Mikey.

 "Are you on the menu?" Pete asks nonchalantly, and Mikey blushes furiously, shaking his head. "Awh, what a shame. I'll go for a Mocha Frapuccino then, Mikey," Pete pouts.

"O-Okay," Mikey grabs a cup and looks at Pete nervously. "Name?"

"Pete. Remember it, you'll be screaming it soon," He winks and Mikey lowers his head visibly and writes down Pete's name in the transparent cup and moves over to start working on our orders.

As Mikey scurries off, I turn to Pete with a roll of my eyes and he gives me a smug smile.

"What? He's cute!" He defends himself with a small shrug and I nod sarcastically. "Besides, we both know there are no cute gay boys around here in New Jersey. Not that we know of, at least." Pete says and I have to agree with him, once he found a cute guy, he did everything to try and get inside his pants, regardless of their sexuality, and Pete was determined to turn them, even if his sexual encounters were just with either drunk or stoned men or guys doubting their sexuality.

"Frank and Pete," Mikey calls from the counter with our coffees ready and we make our ways to where he is standing. Pete pays for our coffee since I paid last time and we head to a table, not before he winks at Mikey again.

 When we sit down, I choke on the sip of coffee I was determined to drink when my eyes land on Pete's cup.

            "Holy shit!" I mutter, and Pete looks at me with an eyebrow raised as he lowers his cup of coffee. "Is that...?" I trail off, my finger pointing at a few numbers scribbled in black marker in the side of Pete's cup.

He turns his mug to look at it and barks out a laugh as my face splits in a huge smile.

 "He gave you his number!" I yell in surprise, and a few heads turn our direction, which I ignore and focus my attention on a grinning Pete. "You lucky bastard!" I punch his shoulder and he laughs, taking his phone out of his pocket and saving Mikey's number in it.

"Told you, Iero, no one can resist the Wentz charm," He winks and sips at his coffee, while I shake my head, a look of disbelief in my face.

—-

Hey. How's it going.

NO RIKEY, ABORT MISION! (sorry ;c)

CAN I GET A HELL YEAH FOR PIKEY THO?

xoblue