(no subject)
Title: Make Group Love, Not Educational War
Pairing: mcr gsf
Rating: pg13
Wordcount: 1650
Summary: Ray distracts everyone from plots of anarchy with the suggestion of sex.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Every morning the cafeteria starts cooking hot breakfast at eight am. Ray knows this very well because his mom is one of the cooks. He gets a ride with her so he has to be at school an hour and fifteen minutes early every day. His normal routine is to split off with her at the front doors. She goes to the cafeteria in the basement, and goes straight to the library to pass out for an hour. Or at least until his friends arrive.
His nap is how he misses the whole thing, though Mom tells him about it later. Principal McMoren bought an egg in a hole from her and started coughing a minute later. Chelsea Ford tried the Heimlich, then came a dozen students who’d taken the alternative leadership gym classes that taught CPR, and finally the ambulance but none of it mattered. Death by toast.
Ray’s not overly upset by it. He doesn’t see the grief counselor the school provides. The extent of his concern is having a conversation with Frank about how fucked up it is, and how it’s pretty shitty that George Bush lived after that pretzel that one time, and McMoren died when he’s a decent guy. It's a short conversation, lightened up at the end by Frank's insistence on making out with him for about forty five minutes while Gerard does homework. The truth is all life ends in death, and Ray’s of the opinion that you only have to care when it affects you. The likelihood of one of them choking to death on toast is slim. The Ways don’t even have a toaster anymore. Bob stole it with their permission after Mikey wouldn’t stop fishing out stuck toast with a fork.
The real devastation of the principal dying is that the vice principal now gets to be in charge. Barron is a jerkoff and everyone in the school knows it.
Its a bad sign when on the second day of his reign Barron calls an assembly during first period. Ray dozes through most of it. He’s been best friends with Frank for a decade, been with him for almost a year. At this point he can rest on Frank’s jittery body without getting cranky about the non-stop movement.
Frank elbows him when it’s over, just before all the students start filing out. “You slept through the whole thing.”
“If they wanted me to pay attention they shouldn’t have things at nine am.”
Frank snorts. Frank is an asshole that lives across the street from school. He doesn’t have to wake up until five to nine. He doesn’t know Ray’s pain.
“Just summarize for me,” he requests as Bob and the Ways push their way over to them. They have different classes, but why not talk for a minute or three before they have to separate? Besides, in the crush of people it’s easy for Mikey to squeeze his ass. One good thing to say about the youngest of them; he has no shame whatsoever.
Frank shrugs. “We’re all a bunch of hoodlums, he’s gonna crack down. Stoners at the smoking doors are going to have the cops called. Others at the smoking doors better all be eighteen. He’s thinking about getting metal detectors. No disrespect will be allowed. The dress code will be instrumental.”
Gerard scowls. “I’m gonna go discuss that, see what that means. See you at lunch?”
Ray sighs. “Aww Christ, don’t make a scene.”
Frank tacks on, “yet. Me and Mikey want to be in on it, and Ray wants to complain like a bitch forever before he joins in.”
Ray can tell the instant he sees Gerard sitting at the white plastic table that there is going to be a scene. A massive, arms flailing, raised voice scene. He elbows Bob, who mutters ‘fuck me’. Bob can clearly also tell.
“That son of a bitch!” Gerard shouts when they get near. Ray can feel his mom staring at them. She thinks Gerard is a bad influence. Just because of the eccentric artistry of him, she doesn’t know about the sex. Ray prays she never knows about the sex. She might poison Gerard’s french fries if she did. And then they’d all die, because anything bought instead of brought from home is shared between the five of them.
Ray holds up his hands palms out, the classic stop position. It doesn’t work on Gerard as much as Mikey nudging him does. Gerard and Mikey will always own each other, even if neither of them are kinky enough for dom-sub stuff. In the relative quiet of slightly under a thousand teenagers in one room Ray says “I can tell you need to rant. I don’t know why, but I get you, so. Fine. I will listen for the next fifty five minutes. But if you freak out here my mom’s gonna freak out. So we need to go to Frank’s.”
It’s weird, how infrequently they eat at Frank’s. For how close it is, for how private it is, they should be using it every day. Yet somehow they wind up in the caf day in and day out. Ray wonders if it might be the sense of risk. There has to be a reason they’re affectionate at school regardless of combination, and aroused in bedrooms and basements with family members home. It doesn’t make sense, how he doesn’t want anyone to know, but he wants everyone to know.
He doesn’t have long to dwell on it. Only the time it takes to climb a flight of stairs then dart across four lanes of intermittent traffic. Frank’s obviously got the text Mikey sent him, the front door is open.
“So you were saying something about sons of bitches?” Bob prompts.
Gerard pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. It’s already creased to limpness, like every time Gerard put it away in his pocket he pulled it back out a second later. “This is what he plans to institute! He’s having a board meeting! Fucking look at this!”
Gerard shakes the sheet and Ray risks a paper cut to take it from him. Gerard paces while he reads. At each bullet Ray’s heart sinks a bit lower. It’s not good. Not for him, certainly not for his friends. The only hope is that maybe the board will say no. After all, dress code rules like this are insanely strict. It’s a public school. Who tries to ban denim jeans at a public school?
When he’s done reading he passes the paper to Mikey with some reluctance. Ray knows his friends. They’re going to match Gerard’s level of rage, and he’s going to have to be the sane one that makes sure they don’t all get expelled. And if he doesn’t phrase it perfectly they’re going to rag on him for siding with The Man. Frank will probably say those exact words, because when he’s mad he turns into a piss throwing hippie like his drummer dad was.
Frank and Bob read over Mikey’s shoulder. Well, Frank more ducks around him, considering his height. Gerard glares at them expectantly and Ray watches as each rule hits them harder.
“Extreme hairstyles such as shaved heads, beards, Mohawks or unnatural hair color are unacceptable.” Bob repeats.
“Clothes must be clean, properly fitting, and free from holes or frayed edges. Are they serious with this shit?”
Gerard rants “are you at the fucking part where you can’t wear fucking shirts with drugs, or alcohol, or sayings, or band prints?”
“Somebody tell me who I’m supposed to be if I’m not the boy in the Joy Division shirt.”
Ray can’t help but roll his eyes. “There are literally a hundred facets to your character.”
“I own literally half a dozen Joy Division shirts,” Mikey counters.
“I can’t believe I have to cover up my tattoo. That means long sleeves for the rest of the year.”
“You do it at home,” Ray points out.
“Yeah, because my mom would kick my ass. It was kinda illegal. She can’t see it until I turn eighteen. At school is where they’re supposed to shine.”
“My beard,” Bob says mournfully.
“Yeah, seriously! What’s next, he demand girls shave their legs? You can’t just tell someone how to style their hair. Maybe I’ll dye mine out of spite. At least then I’ll be the one kid with red hair.”
“Guys, do I have to point out the obvious? We’re more than how we look.”
“Yeah, duh. But what kind of soulless cardboard cutout first impression is- well shit, what do we have left? Khaki pants, a plain white t-shirt and a crew cut? Fuck.”
Ray’s going to do this the way he always does this. The way their whole thing started in the first place. He’s going to distract them with cock. “Simple solution then. We’ll all give each other crazy hickies the next time we fuck. Each time we fuck. Then our identities can be the guys that obviously get laid a lot instead of the guys in band shirts.”
“We do get laid a lot.”
“Well it’s kinda hard not to when you’re friends with benefits with all your friends.”
“I call dibs on Bob. Gonna get me some beard burn.”
“We’re really doing this right now?”
Frank shrugs at Bob. “I just want beard burn. Don’t worry, I’ll get you back. Trace that vein you like when I’m sucking you off later.”
Ray smiles. If it wasn’t for his suggestion they’d all be complaining about their loss of individuality for ages yet. Instead Frank and Bob are making out, and he’s already got Mikey’s hand opening his zipper. There’s not going to be any later about this. Even if the sex runs long and they miss next period, Ray’s figured out a way to prevent them from being kicked out of school. Simply put, he’s a genius.