Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Forget Prison, do you know what they do to guys like us in the real world?
Frank awkwardly meets the dark haired, pale skin guy.
Chapter Three - I wouldn't mind thinking about you all day long.
Despite their best efforts, Ray and Bob both wake him up the next morning.
There is only one pop-tart left and they are both arguing about who should get to take it with them to work. Their voices are low and hushed but Frank is apparently a light sleeper now or something because what he could usually sleep right on through has him opening up his blood shot eyes and groaning in annoyance.
"Sorry man, but Bob's being a pain in the ass," Ray states, knocking Frank's legs off the lounge so he can sit. "B.J.'s still passed out."
Frank is pleased with the news as he's too sleepy to deal with too much just now.
"Did we get the paper this morning?" Frank asks, knowing that it's quite possible for their newspaper to just disappear like it often does. He blames the neighbour’s cat because he's never really liked cats.
Bob throws it from his spot in the kitchen and it lands on Frank's bare chest with a loud slap.
"You're not looking for more work are you?" Ray questions him.
Frank nods as he forces himself into a sitting position and flicks to the job section of the paper. Beside him Ray sighs deeply and reaches out a hand to place on Frank's shoulder.
"Look Frank," he starts and Frank feels like crying in frustration because one of Ray's speeches is not what he is in the mood for right now. "Bob and I have been talking and we think that it's best if you just keep the two jobs you already have and spend your days with your kid instead."
Frank spins around to seek out Bob; the bigger guy continues to eat his breakfast sheepishly, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
"I know you hate the parenting advice Frank," Ray continues after noticing that Bob is not going to help him out. "But you know as well as we do that half of B.J.'s problem is the fact that you don't pay him enough attention."
He's a little pissed off at Ray's words because he knows that they're true. And as if sensing he is being talked about and right on cue, Billie enters the lounge room, shuffling his feet along the carpet.
"Daddy look," he says as a morning greeting before he touches Frank with his pointer finger and sends a small electric shock straight on to his skin.
"That's great," Frank states frowning in annoyance as Billie starts shuffling his feet again, obviously trying to reload. "Ray, I need the extra work man I can't keep up the extra - er - little jobs and stuff around the club, you know."
He shakes his head and silently curses himself because no, Ray does not know. Frank only has himself to blame for that, not telling his friends how he miraculously turns up with extra cash after a shift if he is ever in need of it.
It's at that moment that Billie shocks him again.
"Would you stop that," Frank shouts, he's getting agitated now because Billie is getting ready to do it again.
"You see what I mean," Ray shouts back. "You don't pay him attention and he plays up."
This time Frank doesn't snap back because fuck it, Ray might just be a little bit right.
Bob and Ray leave for their respective jobs soon after their little talk leaving Frank to sit and think about what has been said to him. Billie hums a tune in the kitchen whilst he pours his cereal; half in the bowl, half on the floor, just like normal.
Frank just flicks meaninglessly through the paper because he's suddenly not all that motivated in finding a new job. He starts to think that Ray is more than likely right, after all, he's never been wrong before.
By the time Billie is done with his breakfast and dressed in clothes that can at least pass as 'normal' Frank has abandoned his search for a new job and a new day care because he's just realised how sleepy he is and how much he would kill for a coffee.
"We're going to Starbuck's," he tells Billie and receives a huge smile and a big hug in response.
It scares Frank shitless how much Billie resembles him, well a him that he used to be anyway because he has to face facts, his style changes every week.
He often glances over old photos where his hair was shoulder length and fucking perfect, his eyes full of happiness and life. That is how B.J. looks. Like a long-haired, happier Frank.
"Can I get a hot chocolate?" Billie asks as he tries once more to slip his hand free of Franks on their walk to the coffee shop.
Frank just holds on tighter, after all, they're right near the main road and the last thing he needs is for Billie to run off and cause an accident.
He hurries along to the Starbucks he visits far too frequently. The stupid place owns almost his entire weekly pay but he doesn't mind, it's worth every dollar. Billie likes the guy that works behind the counter and seems to consider it almost a high honour to be there as he is always on his best behaviour.
The two of them are just about to walk in the door when someone steps out causing Frank to stop in his tracks and stare red faced at the man he had pictured whilst being sucked off last night. He's momentarily struck by guilt and surprise which Billie takes as the perfect opportunity to wriggle his hand free and dash into the cafe.
Frank knows he has to step forward but he can't because the dark haired, pale-skinned man is stood right in front of him looking absolutely perfect. He's struggling to light up the cigarette that's in his mouth as he passes his extremely full coffee from hand to hand rather awkwardly, probably seeking out his lighter.
Franks feet suddenly move on their own and his hands suddenly reach out despite the fact he doesn't remember his brain asking them to.
"Here, let me," he says. The words just slip out; he doesn't even plan to say them.
A part of him knows that if he comes to his senses now and jerks away that he will only manage to look even weirder then he's already come across and so he goes with it and pulls out the lighter he has permanently stashed in the pocket of his ripped jeans.
Frank flicks until the flame bounces around in front of him before cautiously approaching the slightly startled dark haired man and cupping one hand around his cigarette whilst the other shakes lightly as it tries and fails in the wind to light up the tip of the smoke.
He's close, far too close and his stomach does this sort of flip and it's wonderful and he knows he hasn't felt that in years. He breathes in a shaky breath and smells alcohol, coffee, cigarettes and paint. It's an odd mixture but Frank enjoys it and wonders how all those scents came to be on this one person before midday.
The end of the smoke finally lights up and Frank takes a step back with great reluctance.
"Sorry," Frank automatically chokes out, obviously he means for invading this guys personal space but sub-consciously he means for getting off on the idea of him last night at the club too.
"No, it's alright," the dark haired man finally says between puffs of smoke. His voice is smooth and soothing and Frank just wants to hear it again and again. "Thanks for stopping what was no doubt going to be a very bad spillage of coffee."
Frank laughs but is then suddenly horrified because for the first time in his life he has nothing to say. He is the social bartender who never hesitates to ask someone who has been watching him all night if they want him to go down on them. He knows that there is definitely something wrong.
"Um, I'm Frank," he bursts out.
Immediately he wants to run off screaming down the street and drown himself in a lake because why the hell did he just say that?
The dark haired man looks at him shyly; his dark hair falls about his eyes as though it's deliberately trying to conceal them. Frank can't help himself, he's mesmerised.
"Gerard," he finally says and Frank lets out a small awkward cough as he feels his heart sort of speed up suddenly in his chest. He has a name.
Frank knows if he doesn't get away now he'll only end up making even more of an ass of himself. This Gerard guy probably just thinks of him as some nice stranger who likes to help him in his race to get lung cancer, not some potential boyfriend or one night stand or whatever the fuck Frank is imagining him as right now because his brain is no longer working apparently.
"W-well I'd better ... you know," he states stupidly as he swings his head in the direction of the coffee shop.
"Oh - yeah, yeah, of course," Gerard says hurriedly. He pulls the cigarette out from between his perfect lips and places it in-between two pale and flawless fingers so that he can smile.
Frank wishes he hadn't, he suddenly feels queasy at the wondrous site.
"Thanks again ... Frank."
With those final words Gerard is gone and Frank just stands there stupidly for a few minutes running the whole conversation over in his head. He doesn't even want to think about how Gerard sounded when he repeated his name, he's afraid he'll lose all control if he does.
"Daddy, come on!" Billie shouts out sending Frank crashing back down to earth.
Suddenly he's not some single guy who works nights at a bar, plays in a band and has some pathetic crush on a guy he's only just met with the name Gerard. Suddenly he's a single parent who gives out sexual favours for money when things are tight and perhaps even a potential stalker. What the fuck was he even thinking talking to Gerard?
At that moment he's glad Gerard has walked away because it is simply far too cruel having him dangled in front of Frank like that only to have someone laugh and pull him away because he's way out of Frank's pathetic league after all.
A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he enters the Starbucks and approaches his son.
"Hey Frank, Billie was getting a little impatient so I just put through your usual orders, hope that's okay," the guy behind the counter says as he pushes his glasses further up his nose.
"Thanks Mikey, that's fine," Frank responds.
Automatically he looks around for damage. Billie has been in the cafe on his own for a little while, usually something got broken when this happened.
"It's alright, I kept an eye on him," Mikey says instantly knowing what Frank was searching for.
Frank has no idea how he and Mikey became friends, but in that odd 'he serves my coffee everyday' kind of way, they had. There was just something so casual about the guy that Frank often found himself spilling every aspect of his life out to him.
Hence why the skinny kid known as Mikey knew to keep a close watch on the short, baby-faced, brown-haired boy who is always bouncing into the shop as though he himself was high on caffeine.
Frank also knows a fair bit about Mikey to. He's been in two bands before and plays the base but unfortunately neither band worked out for him, he makes fucking fantastic coffees, loves to party too much for his own good by the sounds of it and he has this brother that he talks about nonstop and yet never mentions a name or occupation.
Frank sometimes gets the hint that perhaps Mikey likes to keep that part of his life a mystery but he can't really understand why.
When Mikey passes them their coffees they don’t bother to sit, Frank's too busy telling Mikey all about the stuck up day care teacher that couldn't handle Billie and how he got fired from his job which, to his great surprise, then leads to Frank spilling his guts to him about the guy he has just made an ass of himself in front of.
Mikey just laughs.
"You don't understand though man, it's this complete stranger and I'm already sort of crushing on him," Frank admits as he tries not to blush furiously but fails miserably.
Frank doesn't even know if he's told Mikey he's into guys and girls but he's not really fussed. A part of him already knows that Mikey won’t be put off by anything he says.
"Go for it man! I'll let you sit here all day without ordering constant coffees if you want a place to watch and wait for him," Mikey says being so totally supportive that Frank just wants to hug him.
"Knowing my luck he'll probably never show again," Frank whines as he automatically just reaches out and catches Billie's hot chocolate before it tips off the bench and plummets to the floor.
"Think positively dude," Mikey encourages. "After all, sounds like one of those fate type meetings, you know."
Frank laughs at how dorky Mikey sounds, but he's already sort of fond of it. He guesses that Mikey is just one of those guys; you know the type everyone just gets along with.
It didn't take Billie long to get restless and Frank promises Mikey he'll be back tomorrow before he leaves.
On the walk home it rains. Typical but suitable Frank thinks because rain is nice when you're at home and can snuggle up with the people that you love but it can also be terribly fucking miserable when you find yourself trapped in the house all day with nowhere to go. You find yourself totally torn between the two mixed emotions. Like, you're fond of puddles but it just won’t fucking stop raining long enough for you to go out and enjoy them without becoming saturated.
And that was just how Frank felt right then because he had two contrasting emotions battling for dominance inside his skull.
Frank is grateful that the pros and cons he is feeling all revolve around one thing.
Because he honestly doesn't mind thinking about Gerard all day.
He honestly doesn't mind at all.
AN: That's all you suckers get for now, haahaha. Night night. But please let me know, I'm a bit unsure of this one, whether it's just for me and my sick kicks or for everyone. xx