Explosive coke, serious lack of co-ordination, and knee-melting smiles....
I may not have a box containing several hundred plectrums to upend everywhere this time, but what I do have is a half drunk can of coke, which promptly falls from my grasp as my muscles turn to jelly at the sight of the figure standing before me on the doorstep; the can plummets to the ground and explodes in a messy death on the step between us, droplets of coke zero splurting and spluttering from it's remains and showering me and Jamie's date in sticky brown liquid.
There’s a dead silence for what seems like eternity following the violent, explosive death of my coke can, broken only by the feeble fizzing of it’s wrecked remains as I watch, frozen in complete and utter horrified shock as coke dribbles down the incredibly gorgeous guy form the music shop.
Frank. Frank Iero, the insanely drop-dead gorgeous guy from the music shop this afternoon is Jamie’s DATE?! Oh my god. Is it some kind of cruel, cunning revenge on her part to get me to face the guy I assaulted with guitar picks? And oh shit, I’ve gone and spilt coke all over him now too, just to add to it all. Why do I always have to become more of a walking disaster whenever there’s a cute guy around?!
Since when did Jamie go for guys like Frank anyway? Attractive, intelligent, individual and slightly rebellious looking guys usually seem to be as attractive to her as slugs (and no, she doesn’t have a freaky slug fetish). She hates anyone individual or different on principle- captains of football teams, leaders of the ‘cool’ gangs and bullies are way more her type.
There’s no way she could have actually found out about what happened in the music shop this afternoon, so it must just be a coincidence…or a horrible fate. WHY did she have to pick Frank, the guy I’ve somehow managed to metaphorically drool over, attack with a flurry of guitar picks, and shower in coke, all in the space of a mere three hours?!
Maybe he won’t recognise me…
Oh, dream on, Gerard! How many 5’5 paler than the grim reaper himself, misfit t-shirt wearing teenagers are there around here?! Of course he’ll fucking recognise you!
“Gerard?” the deep, slightly husky tone of Frank’s voice confirms my worst fears and breaks the awkward silence that hung over us. “From the music shop, right?”
“Umm…yeah..” I mumble, hiding behind my hair in the hope that doing so will actually somehow make me invisible.
“So do you tend to greet people by emptying things all over them, then?” Frank grins, amusement sparkling in his breath-taking greeny russet flecked eyes, despite the fact he’s got like, half a can of coke trickling down his t-shirt.
“Uh…shit, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean-I just kinda-fuck, I-“
“Gerard.” Frank chuckles easily, bringing my stuttering, stumbling apology to a halt. “Chill out dude, it’s fine.”
“…Uh..” I hide further behind my hair, feeling even more idiotic, which is seriously saying something. “Sorry.”
Frank grins at me again, and my knees suddenly go all weird and melty so as I have to clutch the door for support.
Despite my embarrassment and pleas to God/Satan/whoever’s out there for it to suddenly become possible for the ground to open and swallow me up, I can’t help but appreciate his gorgeousness…his twinkling, mischievously mingled russet and deep emerald eyes that shimmer with intelligence and amusement in the illuminating golden glow of the setting sun, sinking low in the peaceful pink-streaked summer sky…
“Gerard?” the sound of his voice makes me start out of my daydreams.
“Y-yeah?” I stutter, feeling my cheeks flush pink.
“You okay? You just like, totally zoned out there, man.” Frank says, looking amused.
“Umm…I’m-uh-fine.” My cheeks are rapidly going from pink to scarlet.
“So, I was just asking you- is Jamie your sister?” he asks.
“Uhh…st-stepsister.” I mumble. Usually I’d have come up with some derogatory or sarcastic comment about her, but my brain cells seem to have been turned into unfunctioning, gooey mush.
“Oh right. Coolbeans.” Frank says, shifting slightly on the doorstep.
There’s a pause.
“Uh, d’you mind if I come in to wait for Jamie? I’m not gunna vandalise the house or anything.” He grins.
“Oh shit, sorry! I just forgot-I wasn’t trying to be rude-oh fuck-uh-you wanna come clean the coke off your-” I step back to let him over the threshold and promptly trip and stumble on the hall rug.
I flail about for a second, latch into one of the framed photos hanging on the wall for support, realise milliseconds too late that it was a seriously bad idea, and come crashing down at Frank’s well-worn black doc martens in a kind of extremely uncomfortable Gerard-photo frame pretzel.
Seriously, what the fuck, is it ‘national embarrass Gerard Way to death day’ or something?!
I groan but don’t move, in some kind of unrealistic hope that if I lay there long enough, Frank will magically evaporate, or I’ll get sucked down into the pits of hell- I mean, after this, how bad can they really be?
“Gerard?” Frank sounds uncertain for the first time.
I stay silent, willing with all my stupid mushy little brain cells for him to disappear.
“Gerard?” he says again, louder.
So much as for brainpower.
I groan again and shove the painting off me.
“Are you okay?” Frank’s kneeling down beside me, deep russety eyes wide and concerned.
“…F-fine thanks.” I manage, getting unsteadily to my feet as Frank does the same.
He chuckles, looking relieved. “Co-ordination isn’t one of your strong points then, eh?”
“How did you guess?” I sigh.
Frank laughs, then frowns suddenly, peering at my forehead.
“You’re bleeding.” He announces, and sure enough, when I put my hand up to feel, there’s a small gash above my left eyebrow.
“Ouch.” I say stupidly, wincing.
“Yeah, it looks sore.” Frank says sympathetically. “Uh, mind if I clean this off somewhere?” he gestures to his coke-stained top.
“Oh sure- listen, I really am sorry- I didn’t mean-”
“Gerard.” Frank puts a hand on my arm, stopping me and making my heart race. “Slow down- we don’t need any more injuries.” He grins teasingly at me.
“…Unugheee..” I say dazedly, knees melting at the speed of light.
“Uh, sorry?” Frank says, looking confused, no doubt due to the fact I’ve started speaking the language of retard.
I blush furiously and lead him to the kitchen, concentrating as hard as I can on tripping over things, though very nearly catapulting myself over my own feet and having a nasty mishap with the shoe rack when Frank leans forward and whispers “Love the t-shirt buy the way.” Into my ear, his breath tickling the back of my neck and giving me shivers up and down my spine.
However, I finally complete the short journey successfully and hand Frank a soapy cloth for his t-shirt, trying to ignore the way my pulse flutters when our fingers brush lightly together.
“Thanks.” He smiles, starting to sponge at his top. I let my eyes drift over his slim physique, muscular arms, flawless skin…
He looks up at me suddenly, eyes narrowed.
I feel my cheeks bypass pink and turn dark beetroot.
“You need to clean that cut.” He states.
“N-no it’s okay.” I lie- I’m a total wimp with things like that and I don’t want Frank to think I’m pathetic.
Frank raises his eyebrows. “My mate’s finger fell off cause he didn’t clean a cut. So let me do it, yeah?”
I’m too stupid (and slightly scared by the finger story) to protest, not to mention my brain cells still seem to be in a pathetic melted mush of hormones.
He rinses the cloth with warm water and walks over to me. I stumble backwards, but Frank follows me, and I keep on backing until I’m trapped between the kitchen bench and Frank, heart pounding wildly in my chest, stomach fluttering excitedly and nervously at the same time.
“It won’t hurt.” Frank reassures me, smiling softly as he reaches up and starts gently dabbing at the wound.
Right now, I doubt I’d even notice if my entire forehead was sliced off.
He’s so close, his body disturbingly close to mine, the smell of mangoes, tobacco, guitar strings and sunshine all mingling together and tickling my senses, lethally alluring. All my nerves are hypersensitive and electric as he stands on tiptoe to reach properly, his thigh pressed up against mine, his face close…so close…my heart’s thumping erratically, stomach cart wheeling with a fuse of nerves and excitement, spine tingling, mind whirring so fast I’m dizzy and have to clutch onto the bench behind me for support, as I gaze into the careful focus in his unique, amazingly emerald and russet swirled eyes, and find it utterly irresistible the way he bites his lower lip in concentration-
“GEE?” Mikey’s yell from the living room shatters the moment and the electricity, practically giving me a heart attack. “WHERE ARE YOU? DAVID’S ABOUT TO GET STAKED!”
“David?” Frank asks softly, moving back. “The Lost Boys?”
“Uhh..yeah..” I reply, trying to recover the feeling in my knees and get my hormone riddled brain back into focus.
“I fucking LOVE that movie!” Frank beams.
“Me too..” I mumble.
“Gerard?” Mikey pokes his head round the door. “What’s going on? I heard a crash in the hall earlier, are you okay?”
“F-fine thanks, Mikes.” I say weakly, still holding onto the bench for support. “This is Frank, by the way- Jamie’s date.”
“Hi.” Mikey says politely, and then not quite so politely- “Good fucking luck.”
Frank chuckles. “Thanks. I hear you’re watching The Lost Boys- awesome movie!”
“Oh my god, me too!” Mikey exclaims, then they’re both off about vampire and movies and music, and I feel totally lefty out and irrationally jealous and still overloaded with hormones and stupidity.
“So what bands are you into, Gerard?” Frank asks, cutting through my jealous thoughts on how to murder Mikey, as he and Frank are so clearly soul mates.
“Umm…The Misfits, Black Flag, Smashing Pumpkins, Green Day…stuff like that.” I reply, managing my first competent sentence since Frank arrived.
“Awesome.” Frank grins, and Mikey gives me a funny look as I suddenly have to grasp the handle of the fridge for support as me knees go all melty again.
“I thought you’d be into awesome music when I saw you and your friend in the music shop this afternoon.” He smiles.
Mikey gasps, eyes wide, realisation written across his features. “Frank? Frank form the music shop?!” He looks meaningfully at me and I drop my gaze, cheeks pink.
“Ummm…yeah?” Frank looks puzzled, as Mikey takes one look at my flaming cheeks and bursts out laughing.
Luckily, before my younger sibling can embarrass me further the door swings open and Jamie saunters over to Frank.
“Hey babe.” She smiles ‘seductively’.
“Oh, hi Jamie.” Frank smiles at her, but not his ‘I will make you go all jellyfied’ grin. It’s more forced or something.
“Ready to go? You don’t need to stay with these freaks anymore!” She smirks, pulling Frank’s arm.
“Actually, I think they’re pretty cool.” Frank says calmly, but there’s something steely to his tone.
Jamie doesn’t look pleased. “Come on.”
“I guess…” Frank agrees, standing up.
“Do you like my outfit?” She simpers sickeningly.
“Uh…very…short? I dunno, maybe you should try wearing awesome t-shirts like Gerard’s here.” He winks at me, and Jamie looks livid, then marches towards the door decisively.
“Bye then, guys.” Frank puts on his sunglasses, which make him look like a total rockstar, especially when teamed with his all-black, safety-pin adorned attire.
“See you.” Mikey smiles.
“See you…” I echo.
Then, just before Frank closes the kitchen door behind them, he turns round and throws me one of his knee/brain cell/heart melting grins, leaving me a pile of gooey, jelly-like meltyness, hanging onto the kitchen table for support.
What did you think? Please R&R! the more I get, the sooner I’ll update :) thanks for reading- I love you guys!