part three.
//may.
"The school year cannot be almost over," McLynn says to William, sounding vaguely hysterical.
"It is," William says soothingly. "Five weeks."
The school year is a weird thing, Frank has decided. The ebb and flow of it is both familiar and sort of unexpectedly different as a teacher.
"I didn't know this was your first year teaching!" Brendon exclaims. "Wow, Frank!"
Frank shrugs, self-conscious, doesn't look up from his plate of carne asada tacos. They're at Sergio's for a fortifying meal the day before prom ("You'll need it," Gerard had said grimly).
"What made you want to be a teacher?" Jon asks. "Seems like a kind of masochistic profession."
"Says the man who fights plant life all day," Ryan says.
"I don't know," Frank says. "I mean. I guess. I sort of did, when I was a kid, and then when my band broke up, it was kind of the only thing that came to mind. So, I finished my degree, and, um, that was that."
"Huh," Brendon says.
"We're not going to go round-robin with this," Ryan says.
"Don't be an asshole," Brendon tells him.
"I want to know, actually," Frank offers.
"I like math," Spencer says simply. "But I didn't until, like, my junior year. I would've had so much more fun in high school if I'd had a decent math teacher."
"How noble," Jon says dryly. Spencer glares at him halfheartedly. Jon noses at his shoulder until Spencer gives up and knocks their foreheads together.
"I hate theatre people," Brendon says brightly. Gerard looks at him in disbelief. "No, really. You think I'm scatterbrained? Yeah fucking right. The head of my department in college was an idiot. I got sick of the egos and crap. I had the most fun with theatre when I was in high school, so. Makes sense."
"I'm lazy and clerical work is easy," William announces to nobody in particular.
"I like crushing the spirits of innocent children," Gabe says ominously.
"Be serious," Gerard says.
"Fine. I don't know, I like having fun. Teaching gym is kind of like teaching fun," Gabe admits.
"Not conventionally," Spencer says.
"I'm not a conventional teacher," Gabe says right back, quick and easy. Spencer concedes the point without a fight.
"Ryan just likes people idolizing him," Brendon says when everyone turns to Ryan, whose mouth is full of burrito. Ryan doesn't react.
"Explains your relationship," William says, and Brendon kicks under the table.
"Ow," Frank says.
"Fuck," Brendon says. "Sorry."
"S'okay," Frank says, and Brendon strongly contemplates trying to kick again, until he gets it right, but thinks better of it.
"Yeah, I liked tutoring when I was in college," Ryan says after he's swallowed and taken a sip of his beer. "But I wanted something smaller."
"I like helping people," Gerard says simply, and Frank hates how mushy that makes him feel.
"Oh, Zack's here," Brendon cries out. He ducks under the table and crawls out from under it, then runs at full-speed to the entrance and launches himself at Zack, who catches and spins him easily.
"You know, it's nice you're here, since I was really feeling threatened by these plastic plants with their scary silk roses," Spencer says to Zack when Brendon succeeds in dragging him over to the table.
"Nice to see you too, Spence," Zack says mildly.
"Move over," Ryan tells William.
"Nah, don't bother," Zack says. "I'm getting food to go. See you guys tomorrow night, though."
"You got roped into chaperon duty?" Gabe asks sympathetically.
"Yeah, thanks for bailing out at the last minute," Zack says with a bit of a scowl.
"Family, man, you know how it is," Gabe says with a shrug. "Nothing I could do."
"Sure, sure," William says, and then he flinches, "Ow, who fucking kicked me?"
"That was for you," Gabe says to Brendon, looking smug.
"Bullshit, you just like hurting people," Frank says.
"True," Gabe says. "But he can still enjoy it."
"Yep," Brendon says cheerfully.
"Bye," Zack says. Brendon hugs him, then wriggles under the table and back up next to Ryan. When he sits up, he smacks a wet kiss on Ryan's mouth.
"You taste like dead animal," Brendon informs him.
"Delicious," Gerard says.
The prom is held at a local country club. It's a big damn deal, like every school's prom is, and the teachers try to hang back and not be too obtrusive. Keeping the peace is a high-energy job, since it's the end of the year and tempers are running high. Allegiances have shifted, cliques have broken and re-formed. The juniors are excited because only upperclassmen are allowed at the dance and nothing makes people happier than being in on something exclusionary.
The students fall into one of two groups as far as prom night substance abuse goes: about half show up at the dance already tipsy and proceed to get even more drunk, and the other half arrive clean and stay so, presumably for the whole night, though Gerard wouldn't put it past them to just save up their boozing for the post-prom festivities. A fair number of students treat the dance like it's just an excuse for pictures and a fancy dress. They show up late and spend the later part of the dance hanging around the exits, waiting to be set free.
Kids with more traditional parents use prom as an rationalization for co-ed sleepovers, which, Gerard surmises, leads to a lot of really irresponsible behavior.
It's hard to get too upset about it, though. They're all so bright-eyed and flushed with excitement. They deserve a good time, just for surviving another year. Gerard and Frank get to the dance together and find a convenient place to park and just watch. Gerard leans against a wall while Frank hops up and sits on the edge of a planter.
"That lip ring is probably pushing it," Gerard tells Frank.
"I'm having a hard time caring," Frank says cheekily. Gerard laughs.
"I guess," Gerard says.
"Come on, loosen up," Frank says, shaking his arm. Gerard laughs again.
Prom is fairly uneventful this year, for which all the faculty are thoroughly grateful. Jon and Spencer manage to duck out early, since the whole affair is turning out to be nowhere near as bad as expected. Gerard waves them off. He seems content to hang back and just talk with Frank in between taking pictures with excited students who run up to show off their dates and dresses. When it's all over, Ryan makes Brendon drive home.
"It was sweet this year," Brendon says with a sigh when they get back to their house. "Young love."
"C'mere," Ryan murmurs softly. He kisses Brendon, pulls his back against the door so Brendon's pushing him into the hard wood. Brendon's hands drift to his hips and hold him there.
"Sex on prom night, Ross, I like it," Brendon says a bit breathlessly. Ryan chuckles and kisses him again.
It's easy between them, easier than it ever has been. Ryan thinks that this is probably what settling down feels like, and he's oddly at peace with the concept of it. He spent his high school years and his college years wanting to be anywhere but Nevada, wanting to be somewhere colder and more interesting, somewhere with more history that wasn't his own.
But Nevada is where he has ended up, teaching at the same school he graduated from. He's still spending weekends with the same best friend, living a pretty ordinary life.
He'd thought, growing up -- they'd thought, both Ryan and Spencer -- that if they made it to adulthood and weren't somewhere else, weren't living fascinating lives, they'd hate themselves.
"I'd rather die than be boring," Ryan told Spencer on their prom night with a bottle of tequila stolen from Ryan's house. Spencer was a junior and Ryan was a senior. They'd gone together, a double date thing, but Ryan can't remember his date's name, and when he thinks about it, can't remember what Spencer's date looked like, not even the color of her dress. He remembers picking out corsages, and remembers that he'd gotten the wrong kind of flower and his date had been upset.
Ryan thinks his younger self would probably hate who he is today, and feels a bit smug about that. He likes who he is now, and likes who he's with and what he's doing, and maybe his life is boring on the outside, but the most important thing that Ryan has learned is that the devil's in the details. The little things make his life interesting.
So when Brendon kisses him, just like every other time they've kissed for four years, that's all right because it's a good kiss. It is every time. When Brendon pushes inside him and grinds their bodies together, that's all right, too, because it's still so much of what Ryan wants and needs.
And when Brendon comes inside of him, strokes him through his own orgasm, it's better than anything Ryan could have thought to ask for when he was younger. It always is.
When Frank and Gerard get back to their apartment, it's almost one in the morning, but they're both too awake to even bother trying to start working towards sleep. They curl up on the couch at opposite ends, and Frank bites the inside of his cheek with disappointment. They've both discarded their jackets already, just left them in the back of Frank's car, and now Gerard is fumbling with his tie.
"Here," Frank says, giggling. "Here, I'll -- just." Gerard sighs and lets Frank loosen the knot enough to pull it over his head.
"Thanks," Gerard says ruefully. "Every time I feel like a real adult, something stupid that I should be able to do pops up."
"Yeah, me too," Frank says. He's still holding Gerard's tie.
"Do you --" Gerard gestures, and they're sitting close, so his hands kind of brush against Frank's chest. Frank tenses, and Gerard clears his throat. "Do you need help with yours?"
"Yeah, sure," Frank says, and tips his head back. It takes Gerard longer to get his tie off than if Frank had done it on his own, probably. Which is fine, because Frank likes any excuse to touch Gerard, as stupid as that sounds even inside his own head.
When Gerard gets the tie off, he drops his hands to Frank's shoulders and doesn't look away.
"I'm not going back to Jersey this summer," Frank says inanely.
"That's good," Gerard says.
"Are you -- are you going anywhere this summer?" Frank asks. He's speaking more softly now, even though there's no reason to.
"No, I'm staying here," Gerard says. He's quieter now, too. Frank tongues at his lip ring, trying to think of something else to say, and then Gerard shakes his head before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
It's different this time, Frank thinks, which should be obvious, because he's not drunk and Gerard's not hesitant, just inquiring. Frank doesn't think before kissing him back, opening for him.
Gerard pulls back and meets his eyes again.
"I won't forget this time," Frank says suddenly, trying to do everything right. "I mean. I won't pretend to forget. Unless you want me to."
"No," Gerard says. "I want you to kiss me now."
And Frank does.
The rest of the night -- and the rest of the month -- pretty much fly by. The seniors are only around for another few days, and a fair number of them cut class regularly. A few students don't even bother coming to school most days.
Spencer is trying to be annoyed by this, really he is.
"You're watching movies with them," Ryan points out, and Spencer bristles.
"Yeah, well, they're movies that I picked out," he says. "I wanted the kids to watch them for a reason."
"Yes, so you wouldn't have to grade any more homework," Frank says, and Brendon high-fives him.
"It's too hot to argue," Spencer says, and everyone pretty much agrees.
The third week of May is Grad Week, kicked off by the Baccalaureate mass at St. Paul's. Gerard has to give a speech about how much all the students have grown up and how proud it makes him. McLynn makes Frank give one, too, about his experiences as a new faculty member. There's also the Senior Awards Night, which is a horrifically boring evening. Teachers have to take turns handing out awards to the seniors and listing their individual scholarships, one by one. There's also a Grad Nite bonfire party at a nearby lake. The kids are bussed to the lake and then back to school when it's all over at about four am. When the students return to the campus, they can go straight home. They don't have any more classes at St. Catherine's ever again.
Of course the centerpiece of Grad Week is the graduation ceremony itself. It's mercifully brief, with a speech by McLynn and the names read out, nothing else. Frank is grateful that St. Catherine's is such a small school. The ceremony barely lasts forty-five minutes.
After it's over, the teachers don't go to Sergio's, like they normally would. Too many St. Catherine's families eat there after graduation, and they all prefer to not censor their behavior. So, they end up at Brendon and Ryan's house.
"Another year gone," Gabe says mournfully.
"I think I'm more excited for summer vacation now than I was when I was a kid," Frank says.
"I know I am," Spencer says. "Ten weeks off, I can't fucking wait."
"Speak for yourself," Jon says. "Some of us are not ridiculous bums. Some of us work all summer."
"Yeah," William pipes up. "Bums, all of you."
"You sit at your desk and watch porn all summer," Jon points out.
"Creepy stalker person," Gabe says.
"There are things called windows, and there are planters full of roses beneath these windows," Jon explains patiently.
"Whatever," William says.
"What are you even going to do for ten weeks?" Frank asks Spencer. He shrugs.
"We're going to do nothing, and it's going to be awesome," Brendon announces.
"Nothing sounds good to me," Gerard says, and slings an arm around Frank.
"Seriously, what is with the couple shit?" Gabe asks the room at large.
"Grow up," Jon says, and Gabe wiggles his eyebrows at him.
"I have no idea why you thought you could make that suggestive," Spencer says, and Gabe sighs.
"It was worth a shot."
After graduation, there's only one week of school left -- not even a full week, just three days for finals and then they're done.
Gerard is still going to have to spend some time on-campus, dealing with summer school students, but he'll only be there once a week. Frank isn't teaching any summer school classes, and neither is Spencer, even though McLynn had wanted him to teach the remedial math courses. Spencer had considered it, but Jon had talked him out of it, saying he needed a break.
Ryan is teaching a remedial English class, but summer school only goes until noon three days a week. It's not all that much work. Brendon isn't exaggerating when he says they will be doing nothing.
Frank and Gerard are the last to leave when the evening starts winding down.
"See," Brendon whispers in Frank's ear while he hugs him tightly. "We all said everything would work out."
"I'll listen to you more next time," Frank promises, and Brendon laughs.
"So," Gerard starts when they get in the car.
"So," Frank agrees, and reaches over, covers Gerard's hand with his own. It's a lame and girly thing to do, but he can, now, and does just because he wants to and because Gerard will not only let him but also enjoy it. Gerard's hands are always cold, and Frank's are always warm.
"Your first year's over," Gerard says. "Your contract was only for one year."
"Yeah, I signed an extension in October," Frank says. Gerard glances over at him.
"I didn't know that," he says carefully.
Frank shrugs. "After I got a place to stay, I figured, why leave? So. You're kind of stuck with me."
"That works," Gerard says, and they drive the rest of the way home in comfortable silence.
By the calendar, the year isn't over, not even halfway so, but it still feels like the ending of something monumentally significant, which makes sense, Frank supposes. There's a pride in survival, even when you count yourself old enough to be beyond such things.
"We...did it," Frank whispers to himself, and tilts his head against the car's window, watches the streetlights pass by.