FicWad

So I haven't really proof read this loads, I just wanted to get it up. (No not like the MSI song ;D)

The rest of the day was pretty wasted on Gerard, because he couldn't stop thinking about what Frank had said about his girlfriend, and what his girlfriend had said about Frank. When he'd got home yesterday evening she'd been pretty civil about everything, to the point where Gerard even thought she was in a mood with him. But when he'd asked she'd said, “no, of course not, I love you sweetie!” and he'd replied “sorry honey, I love you too,” because he did.
But that was the question that had been nagging away hopelessly in the back of his mind for a long, long time.
What really...well, what was love?And did he truly feel it towards her?
Frank could obviously see the cogs working away inside Gerard's head, because he kept quiet, only to interrupt when clicking his tongue loudly at Gerard's thinking face (which was apparently hilarious, and involved his mouth dropping open and him looking very confused) and to ask if it was alright if he called him Gee.
“No, it isn't” Gerard had replied straight away, to which Frank had said “Okay, sorry Gee” and then giggled endlessly.
At around half two the manager turned up again and started reading out some important documents to Gerard, who had managed to perfect the art of focusing his eyes yet allowing his mind to wander elsewhere. He found himself again thinking about his fiancée and Frank, and which one had a better perspective. He figured his wife was more worldly, and knowledgeable, but then Frank was so streetwise and – well, he didn't really know the true meaning of this word but, he was so sassy. He was almost everything that Gerard wanted to be, everything that he couldn't be. Except an asshole, obviously.
“So, is that all...acceptable for you, Gerard?” Tommo finished, stacking the papers up messily and throwing them in a draw under the counter.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Gerard nodded, not having a clue what he was agreeing too, but hoping it wasn't anything too drastic. He nodded his goodbyes to the manager, who apparently this time had to leave due to 'family business. '
“Do his excuses ever get any more...specific than that?” Gerard asked Frank, who was carefully tattooing an ace of spades onto aman's upper arm. He snorted and pulled a face at Gerard, as if to say, 'I think you already know.'
For the next hour or so Gerard watched Frank inking people, staining them for the rest of their lives, and couldn't help noticing how attractive Frank's hands were. Sure, they were covered in ink themselves, but he had perfectly shaped fingers and chipped black nail polish and the way they moved was so entrancing...
“When you start noticing silly details like that is when you know you fancy the pants off of someone.” Frank smirked and looked down at his busy hands and then back to Gerard, who blushed immediately, realising that he'd been staring.
“I wasn't, I was just, watching how the, the tattoo w-works.” he stammered awkwardly and Frank raised his eyebrows.
“Oh really? That's not what it looked like!” he finished, wiping the man's arm down and standing up to get a plaster. “It's really not.” the man grinned at Gerard knowingly, and he rolled his eyes and told Frank to hurry up.
A while later, Frank was telling Gerard how to close up the shop securely (shut door, put key in lock, twist key, walk away) and he offered him a cigarette casually. Gerard stifled a snort – he'd thought cigarettes were for stupid teenagers who couldn't control their hormones. “No thanks, I don't smoke.”
Frank bit his lip as if trying not to laugh, gave up and collapsed into harsh giggles, and then raised his eyebrows again. “What?!” Gerard exclaimed, genuinely insulted. “What if I don't want to die young, what if I don't want to inhale smoke every day of my life until my lungs shrivel up along with my brain cells?”
Frank just found this even funnier and shook his head patronizingly. “Fuck, Gerard, you're like one of those high school teachers in the movies,'DON'T HAVE SEX, OR YOU WILL GET PREGNANT, AND DIE!'” he mimicked.
Gerard rolled his eyes dismissively. “Yeah, cause I never have se-” he stopped himself abruptly. “Why are we even talking about this?”
Shrugging, Frank pulled two cigarettes out and headed out the back door. “You coming?” he called through, just managing to recover from the hilarity of Gerard being against smoking. Gerard sighed and followed him out; he had nothing better to do, that was all.
Leaning against the walls in the alleyway, hidden amongst the trash and month old newspapers, Gerard finally succumbed to peer pressure for the first time in at least five years.
“Why don't you smoke, anyway?” Frank asked. “I mean, apart from the lung shrivelling and stuff, I bet it's your wife.”
“She's not my frikking wife.” he murmured back, “and no, it wasn't her choice. I used to smoke, I did until a few years ago but you know, it was just killing me. Plus I don't want a wrinkly mouth when I'm older.” scrunching his face up, Gerard felt his explanation was pretty valid, but Frank looked really sceptical.
“Dude. You have to let go.” he held out the cigarette to Gerard and pulled his best big-eyed face – but Gerard backed away slightly. “Seriously, I'm not gonna be taking another one of them any time soon.” he said, looking fully serious.
“Hmm. What if I make this time pass quicker for you? Then it won't be'soon' anymore, and you can take one!”
Gerard rolled his eyes. It'd apparently taken Frank a long time to think of that comeback, and it was pretty...pretty lame to be honest. “That's not gonna work.”
“How about if I just annoy you in to it?” Frank smirked and his eyes lit up, obviously realising the opportunity he'd just discovered.“Fuck, yes, that's what I'll do.”
Within seconds, he'd concocted hundreds of ideas that would most definitely touch a nerve in Gerard – I mean, he was a sensitive enough guy. And Frank was determined that he'd make this guy take a drag on one of the damn cigarettes, if it was the last thing he did.
“So, um, Gerard.” he shifted his feet around casually, as if he was just starting a normal conversation.
“What.” he retorted blandly, staring Frank straight in the eyes.
“You're pretty, uh, angry, aren't you. Pent up, you keep a lot of it inside, and don't let it out. Or maybe it's just energy? Or, or hormones.” he bit his lip to stop himself from smiling, trying to stick to the deadpan facial expression he'd worn seconds ago.
“No.” squirming, Gerard managed to contain himself. “No, I'm just...reserved, I keep my thoughts to myself.”
“Yeah, I noticed. So I'm thinking that you haven't, uh...entertainedyourself in a while?”
“Shit Frank, this is too personal, kind of what I expected. Can't you annoy me about, I don't know, my extreme lack of tan or something equally as irrelevant?”
Raising his eyebrows, Frank looked Gerard up and down a couple of times, and then nodded thoughtfully. “Nah, your extreme lack of tan is pretty hot. It makes you look like...like a vampire.”
There was a silence as Gerard tried to ignore the comment, but in his head he was panicking. I look like a vampire? Is that good?! Wait, shit, why do I care. I don't care. He thinks I'm hot, he thinks everyone's hot. Shut up Gerard. God that cigarette smells good...
“This isn't working.” he said sharply, and then realised how much that sounded like a break up line. “I mean, I'm not going to give in.”
Frank simply shrugged, and began to speak, fast and quiet, occasionally pausing to inhale some more deadly fumes. “Yes you are. Blackmail time. What if I tell your wife about how you keep coming on to me, about how you keep whispering things in my ear and putting your mouth on my neck and telling me that I'm much fucking hotter than her, and that you reckon I'd be a good fuck? What if I tell her that you get hard over simply my presence, and that I have to give you special toilet breaks every few hours so you can jerk off and get rid of it? What if I tell her about how you dozed off this afternoon, and spent the hour mumbling my name and moaning in your sleep?Then will you do it?”
Gerard stood, stunned by the outburst of cruelty Frank had just shown. He'd known this guy was an idiot, but...he wouldn't do that, surely?
“You can't do that, you can't, it's fucking mental!” he shook his head. “and she'd never believe you, so I don't know why I'd even care.”
“But it would plant the seed of fucking doubt, wouldn't it Gerard. She obviously doesn't trust you that much, so once the possibility's there, it's never going away.” his eyes had narrowed and as he tipped his head back against the wall, blowing smoke casually into the sky, Gerard couldn't help but stare at his lips. At that moment they were poised in that circular position which one generally uses for...well, for blowing...and suddenly, his mind was filled with scandalising, dirty images of exactly what Frank could accomplish with those lips, and what he could do in return...hooking his tongue around Frank's lip ring, biting down just to hear him scream, and then tracing gently along his bottom lip...
“Fuck you. You wouldn't actually do it.” shaking himself out of the trance and unable to avoid Frank's eyes, Gerard went for the option of disbelief.
“Yes I would. I'm Frank Iero, I do anything I fucking like.” he threw the cigarette to the floor carelessly and stamped on it before pulling out another. “and I'm just gonna keep smoking these until you join me. Or until your wife learns about your secret passion for me.”
Flushing a deep colour, Gerard began to panic. “You can't- I don't- I don't even have a fucking secret passion for you, or whatever you're calling this crap you've made up. Why would you do that? Why do you want me to do this so much? It doesn't even mean anything!” he flailed his arms embarrassingly, having no other way to express the depth of his frustration.
“It means that you're not on a fucking leash, it means that you're your own person, it means that you're free.” he blew the smoke slowly in Gerard's face, who, to his own surprise, didn't back away, and inhaled it almost gratefully.
“But that makes me on your leash, because you pushed me into it, and I don't want to.” he said more quietly, the smoke somewhat calming.
“Then make the choice by yourself. Do you not want to because of your wife? Or do you honestly not want to? It's a matter of freedom, really...” he trailed off, knowing that Gerard was about to cave in. “Besides, remember what I'll tell her if you don't.”
Gerard sighed, contemplating what he should do. That smoke was pretty damn sweet, and he no longer doubted the lies Frank would actually tell his fiancée...and it was part of his freedom, right? He wouldn't get into it. It would just be a one off. Just to please – no, just to convince Frank that he was 'breaking the leash' or whatever.
“Fine, I'll fucking do it, but it's not because you asked me to. It's because that stuff smells so great.” Ashamed to meet Frank's eyes, he wanted to take the stupid thing and get it over with and go back inside.
“Hell yes. Iero scores!” grinning idiotically, Frank pulled out yet another for Gerard, lit it on his own and handed it over. Inhaling slowly, Gerard closed his eyes and let the smoke drift his worries away. The guilt because he'd sworn to himself that he'd never do this again. The fear in case his girlfriend would smell it on him. The nagging feeling that Frank was leading him down a road he'd worked so hard to avoid...fading in to the air. He guessed the sky was hanging heavy with the worries and fears of a thousand guilty smokers, all breathing out their problems day after day, hour after hour. Breath after breath.
“By the way, I'm going out tonight, cover for me tomorrow?” he asked, breaking Gerard's sudden tranquility.
“Shit, uh, no.”
Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Fuck you, you're only so stubborn cause...cause you don't get any.”
Gerard gave an accusational cough, forming his useless comeback. “Sure I do, I get some all the time.”
“What, from that poncey wife of yours?” throwing his ciggy to the floor again, Frank began to get worked up.
“She's not my wife, god!” Gerard stamped.
“Yeah, but she's damn well going to be if you don't get your shit together soon. I'm sorry, but it's true.”
There was a silence as Gerard couldn't think of a retort and as he wondered whether Frank was right. They were already engaged, it was just a matter of time...
“Y-you're just so stubborn because you don't get any cock.” Frank shot a glare at Gerard, about to walk back into the shop but waiting for his reply. It took a few long seconds before Gerard manage to splutter out his weak defence...
“No I'm not!” he finally shouted, slightly louder than was necessary, making Frank snort and walk back in to the shop, slapping his ass patronizingly as he went.

Rate and review agaaain please! :) Thanks for doing it on the last one