Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Love and Happy Meals
24 reviewsFRERARD! Oneshot in which Frank works at McDonalds, Gerard is pathetically crushing on him, and Bob is impatient...[Now a podfic by the lovely Catscanflyy- link inside!]
5Funny
A/N: hey guys, this is just a cute, cheesy little oneshot I decided to write cause I was so bored… it’s utterly random, but hope you like and please R&R :D
This was just recorded as a podfic by the lovely Catscanflyy- if you want to listen while you read along, here's the link http://www.ficwad.com/story/190120 ...I'd really recommend it. It's fucking awesome.
Gerard was fucked.
Not in the traditional sense of the word.
In fact, it had been a very, very long time since Gerard had been fucked in the traditional sense of the word. But ahem, that was irrelevant.
Anyway, the reason Gerard was so untraditionally fucked took the 5’4 form of the cute, red-eyeliner wearing guy with a scruffy black mini-mowhawk and chipped black nail polish who worked in the local McDonalds.
Okay, cute was an understatement. The guy was utterly fucking adorable- in the traditional sense of the word. And had Gerard been a more socially confident person, the guy would have been whipped out from behind the counter and into his bed before you could say fast food. Well, maybe with some polite flirting and candlelit dinners first. But yeah, you get the picture.
Sadly, Gerard was not the most socially confident person. In fact, he might have been the furthest thing from socially confident, and had therefore spent the best part of two months agonising over the adorableness of the red-eyeliner wearing guy and at least doubling his intake of McDonalds food.
Of course, had Gerard had the tiniest shred of self confidence, he would have noticed how the scruffy-mowhawked guy smiled so warmly at him whenever he stepped, or rather trembled, into the shop. He might also have noticed how the cute guy managed to serve him just about every time he bought from McDonalds- and that had been a lot recently- or even how he tried to make conversation with bright pink cheeks and a shy smile whenever Gerard wasn’t tripping over his own laces, blushing like a sunburnt tomato with anger management issues, or choking on his food.
Had he noticed all these things, he would have come to the correct conclusion that the guy with the red eyeliner liked him. As in, a lot. But of course, Gerard had been to busy embarrassing himself and stuttering like an incompetent moron to notice, and even if he had noticed, he would never have believed it.
Typically, the 5’4 red-eyeliner wearing guy who worked in the local McDonalds, Frank, thought there was no way someone like Gerard could possibly be into guys, but all the same had bribed his co-worker, Bob, to alert him any time Gerard was in the store so as he could serve him and obsess over how adorably awkward he was.
So basically, the relationship was doomed before it had even begun, and it seemed unlikely nothing would ever transpire; Frank was too stubborn to see how Gerard flushed bright pink whenever he saw him, or how the skinny, raven-haired art student had become almost as common a sight in the restaurant as the tables and chairs, and Gerard was too unconfident to even think about daring to mumble anything more to Frank than ‘Thanks’ or ‘Hi’.
That was, until one grey, rainy afternoon in late November.
Gerard had been having a bad day; he had forgotten his coursework and gotten an earful from the lecturer at college, and unsuccessfully asked out some random guy by the constant pressurising of his equally unsociable younger sibling who insisted he ‘needed to get over that pathetic obsession with the McDonalds guy’. Gerard had agreed only because he realised Mikey had a point, especially when he finished an entire sketchbook of drawings all in some way incorporating the McDonalds guy in various poses and scenarios.
Gerard’s college class had finished late, and he’d been trailing the town for hours in the damp, grey drizzle to try and find somewhere that stocked A5 sketchpads at a reasonable price. By the time the shops had shut, he was soaked to the skin, defeated and despondent, and decided to get a carry out dinner on his way home, where he would call up Mikey for a cheer-up horror movie marathon.
The local McDonalds was only a few blocks away, and considering Frank didn’t work Fridays, Gerard didn’t mind going in looking like a drowned, gothic rat.
And no, he hadn’t memorized Frank’s work shifts so he could come in looking especially nice those days. Nope, not at all. No way.
The grey November drizzle had changed into a downpour by the time he arrived, tiny little bullets of icy rain drumming against the glass of his car windscreen as he chugged into the car park.
After peeking out at the torrential rain and shivering inside his black leather jacket, Gerard decided to wheel the car round and order from the drive-through to avoid further shivering and the possibility of consequently dying of pneumonia.
He pulled up into the small queue for the drive-though and turned his car stereo system on, drumming his fingers on the leather of the steering wheel as Black Flag blasted into his small, beat-up car.
When his car finally trundled to a halt at the drive-through and he wound down his window, Gerard had the shock of his life. In fact, he was pretty sure he just about died of horror on the spot.
Smiling brightly at him from the drive-through window and looking more gorgeous than ever with the sides of his scruffy hair dyed red instead of platinum, nibbling on his lip ring, was none other than the adorable red-eyeliner wearing guy Gerard had been agonising over for months.
And he was right there, grinning his heart-melting lopsided grin.
And Gerard looked like a drowned rat.
And fuck. Fucking fuck.
“Hey,” Frank smiled, looking utterly, unfairly adorable in his McDonalds cap and plain black v-necked t-shirt.
“Ueumooophdiohdajpa…” Was Gerard’s articulate, intelligent and witty response.
Frank had to smile at the crimson cheeks and adorably awkward stuttering. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” He smiled at the scarlet Gerard.
“I meant um, uh…hi,” Gerard stammered, cursing himself.
“Hey,” Frank grinned his mega-watt grin and Gerard did not have to grip the steering wheel tightly in order not to suddenly fly out of the window and into Frank’s face. Nope, definitely not.
“Can I get you anything?” The utterly adorable red eyeliner guy smiled slightly shyly, amused at the look of pure horror on Gerard’s face that implied that he had wound down his car window to see Voldemort serving him rather than the young musician.
“Umm,” Gerard mumbled, trying very, very hard not to accidentally say something so unbelievably clichéd as ‘You. Now. In. My. Bed.’, which would not only be extraordinarily embarrassing, but also might result in the cute eyeliner guy’s fist. In Gerard’s face.
“Black Flag,” The guy noted suddenly, gesturing towards Gerard’s car that still had Black Flag’s Damaged blasting out of the ancient stereo system.
“Um, yeah…you like them?” Gerard said stupidly, trying to somehow manage to look like a cool, sexy drowned gothic rat, which is an impossible feat for anyone, let alone anyone stuttering and bright red with utter humiliation.
“Dude, I fucking love them!” The cute guy cried. “They’re like, the most awesome band ever!”
“Um,” Was yet another of Gerard’s many intelligent and interesting responses.
“I’m Frank, by the way,” The mini-mowhawked guy held out his hand and Gerard just looked at it stupidly for a minute like the utterly moronic moron he was.
“G-Gerard,” He finally managed, tentatively grasping Frank’s hand and trying not to spontaneously combust there and then at the feel of Frank’s soft, slightly callused flesh.
“Cute name,” Frank grinned, and Gerard became a fluorescently scarlet drowned gothic rat clutching very tightly to his steering wheel as if it was his life support.
“Uugeehooof..” Gerard once again demonstrated his wondrous grasp of the English language.
There was a loud, impatient hooting of a car horn behind them, and someone with strawberry blonde stubble and a silver lip ring similar to Frank’s came into view inside the little orders booth, notepad at the ready.
The guy leant towards Frank and muttered something in is ear with a roll of his icy blue eyes, making Frank punch him in the shoulder, narrowly missing his nametag which read in bold black lettering ‘Bob’.
Gerard felt awkward and drummed his long fingers against the leather of his steering wheel in some drastic attempt not to look like a socially awkward, rain-drenched looser wearing too much black. Which he was.
“Sorry about that,” Frank said brightly, making Gerard jump and accidentally make the car start forward a few paces before he managed to stomp on the break pedal and reverse back to the little window, blushing furiously.
“Um, sorry about that,” Gerard mumbled, ducking behind his stands of soaked raven hair and then shaking them hastily back out of his face after catching sight of his reflection in the car mirror and wishing instant plastic surgery was possible.
“It’s fine,” Frank beamed, tucking a strand of his black hair behind his ear and leaning on the little ledge between them. “So um, what can I get you?”
“Um…” Gerard wracked his brains for the name of some kind of food McDonalds sold. “Um…milkshake?” He finally managed, making it sound more like a question.
Frank smiled, warm russet eyes twinkling at Gerard through the rain that fell between them and making the art student feel like a pathetic, love-sick teenager. “Sure, what flavour?”
“Uh…strawberry?”
“Awesome, that’s my favourite too!” Frank beamed, and Gerard was actually pretty sure he felt himself melt slightly there and then. And no, he definitely didn’t have to cling even harder to the steering wheel.
“So,” Frank said as pushed the order towards the strawberry blonde guy in the booth. “You a student?”
Gerard blinked. Frank, the insanely fucking cute red-eyeliner wearing guy from McDonalds, was making conversation with…him?!
“Um, y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, realising that conversation meant he actually had to contribute, rather than just stare and mentally drool over Frank like the loser he was. “Uh, art.”
“Oh cool,” Frank smiled, looking interested. “I suck at drawing!” and he giggled. Proper, high pitched, beyond adorable little giggles that just made Gerard want to haul the red-eyeliner wearing guy through the window of his car and drive off with him, regardless of any stupid laws that might prevent him from doing so.
Gerard smiled awkwardly, trying not to look as if he was having the most inappropriate thoughts about the flexibility of the back seats in his car. “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
“Oh dude, I really am,” Frank laughed. “I can’t even draw fucking stick men!”
Gerard laughed too, hating the high-pitched, slightly feminine sound. Gerard wanted to have a deep, seductive, manly laugh. But then again, nothing else about Gerard was like that, so why should his laugh be? In fact, he was the exact opposite of manly, as his younger sibling told him so kindly on a regular basis, as if he was just trying to add to Gerard’s already non-existent self-confidence. Little fucker.
“So um, what do you do?” Gerard asked, trying to shake himself out of his stupid thoughts.
“I’m a music student,” Frank replied, still smiling widely with those full, pink lips and shimmering dark eyes. “I play guitar.”
Gerard felt his knees weaken and his hand fall from its grip on the handbrake, catching himself just in time before the car decided to make another getaway.
Oh dear god. And he thought there wasn’t anything that would make the McDonalds guy hotter.
“Wow…” He managed through the frantic palpitations of his heart. “Um, are you good?”
“I dunno…I’ve been playing since I was ten and it’s my whole life…I love it. But good? I don’t know- you’d have to judge for yourself,” Frank shrugged, tucking a stubborn strand of dyed-black hair behind his ear.
This of course, was the moment where Gerard said he’d love to hear Frank play sometime, or Frank hinted that Gerard should come and hear him play sometime, and then the two of them could actually get what they both wanted.
But of course, neither of them had the confidence, still thinking that the other would be interested in them like the socially-unconfident idiots they both were.
However, this was where Frank’s strawberry-blonde, stubble-wearing co-worker, Bob came in.
After nearly two months of having to put up with Frank’s lovesick whining and whinging after Gerard first stumbled into the local McDonalds with a vacant, dreamy expression, little black sketchbook and long black stripy scarf wound several times around his lily-white neck, Bob, was, quite frankly, utterly fed up.
He was fed up of Frank’s gooey-eyed expressions as he spent what seemed like hours relating to him how utterly adorable Gerard looked with windswept hair, or how their hands had touched for a second when Frank had handed Gerard his Happy Meal, or how Frank thought Gerard was ‘The One’. Bob could have almost put up with this, had Frank’s crush been doomed and this, Gerard, been totally uninterested, but this was not the case.
The two in question may have been totally blind to the mutual attraction between them, but Bob was not. He could see how Gerard blushed whenever Frank smiled at him, how he got all stuttery and awkward when Frank was taking his order, and when he tripped over things if Frank waved goodbye to him on his way out.
Bob was sick and tired, and Bob was not going to put up with another shift of listening to Frank’s love-sick moaning after Gerard drove off.
So Bob stepped in.
“Hi, Gerard right?” he asked the stammering, drowned gothic rat in the beat up red Volvo, leaning across the overly smiley Frank and surveying the object of his (in Bob’s wise mind) insane co-worker’s affection.
“Um…yeah,” Gerard mumbled, feeling perplexed as to why this guy knew his name.
“Well, Gerard, Frank’s nice, isn’t he?” Bob asked the shy artist bluntly, ignoring Frank’s tiny little angry prods of protest and embarrassed squeals from beside him.
“Um, I guess…” Gerard blushed furiously, looking away.
Bob rolled his eyes to the heavens, and the car behind Gerard’s tooted impatiently once more.
“No I mean, would you date him?” Bob sighed despairingly, earning a small, anguished squeal from the bright-red Frank beside him.
Gerard was so red by this point, he felt ready to explode and die then and there.
“Um…I guess?” He stammered.
“Great!” Bob beamed. “Frank, I know you’d date Gerard, so we’ll just cut to the quick seeing as you two morons have caused a queue of like, eight cars,” Frank’s protests were ignored by his co-worker, who ploughed mercilessly on. “Gerard, how about going out for a meal with my lovely friend here tonight? Say, seven thirty?” Bob finished, blind to the face of a dying-of-embarrassment-face from Frank and dying-of-oh-my-fucking-godness from Gerard.
And with that, Bob left the two blushing boys and went back to taking orders from the very impatient cars that had lined up outside the little booth during his little match-making session.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry about that- my friend Bob, he just- oh fuck. What I’m trying to say is…would you like to?” Frank stammered, still bright red and eyeing Gerard nervously.
Gerard blinked. Twice.
“What?” He breathed, feeling like a gobsmacked goldfish with a heart racing faster than a humming-bird’s and cheeks burning redder than the world’s angriest tomato.
“Um, will you go out with me sometime? I mean, if you don’t mind- I mean if you thought- I just…oh fuck,” Frank trailed off and smiled sheepishly at the shell-shocked art student, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.
“You mean…you…like me?” Gerard breathed stupidly.
“Kinda,” Frank smiled even more sheepishly, and Gerard consequently accidentally stomped on the accelerator in shock, resulting in his car shooting forward across the rainy car park faster than a rocket on crack.
And yeah, his car was shooting across the parking lot and he had no control over it.
Oh.
That wasn’t really a good thing.
Gerard had no time to realise what he’d done, and before he knew it, his car was colliding forcefully with the fence and he was flung forward in his seat as the vehicle juddered to a halt.
He just sat there for a moment, utterly shell-shocked by two things. One; he had just crashed his car. Two; Frank liked him. Frank, the fucking adorable red-eyeliner wearing guy he’d being pathetically obsessing over for months, much to the irritation to…well, just about everyone.
Frank liked him.
Oh yeah, and he’d crashed his car, but what the fuck, FRANK LIKED HIM!
Gerard felt like skipping for joy, but considering he’d just casually mowed down the fence of the local McDonalds car-park fence, he decided it might not be entirely suitable.
However, before he could contemplate the matter further, the door beside him was wrenched open and Frank’s wide eyed, worried face appeared, followed by Bob’s frowning one.
“Shit dude, are you alright?!” Frank gasped, russet eyes wide with concern.
Gerard nodded slightly dazedly. “I-I think so.”
“Come on, out you come then,” Bob sighed, reaching past the trembling, wide-eyed Frank and pulling Gerard reasonably gently from his car and out into the cold, rainy grey car park.
“Sure you’re okay?” Bob asked with narrowed eyes as Gerard stumbled slightly on the wet tarmac.
Gerard nodded again.
“Okay, well in that case, I’ll leave you two to it- people are getting a little…um, impatient,” Bob gestured to the queue of curious cars over by the drive-through window.
He jogged off through the grey rain, leaving Frank to turn worriedly back to Gerard.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked anxiously, gently, tentatively reaching up and running his finger across a little scratch on Gerard’s cheek.
Gerard felt like his whole face was burning under Frank’s touch.
“Um, yeah…” He managed, trying not to seem as if he was leaning into Frank’s touch. Which he totally wasn’t. Like no way, not at all.
Okay, maybe he was the tiniest little bit.
“Sorry about your…um, fence.” Gerard mumbled.
Frank giggled, which just about made Gerard’s heart melt. “Fuck the fence, dude!”
Gerard really hoped he didn’t mean literally.
Frank shook his head, running his soft finger over the scratch again. “I just hope you’re okay.”
Gerard leant further into Frank’s gentle touch, forgetting the queue of curious cars watching them, the remains of his own car impaled on the fence behind them and the drilling rain dribbling down their skin.
Tentatively, with wide eyes, Frank stroked the finger across Gerard’s lips, and Gerard made an extremely embarrassing noise that sounded like something halfway between a purr and a moan.
Frank smiled a more widely, stepping closer and carrying on with trembling fingers that accelerate the frantic beat of Gerard’s stuttering heart further still.
He felt like a pathetic, love-sick teen in a sickeningly clichéd, cheesy chick-flick movie, but really, with Frank this close with trembly, gentle fingers and wide, beautiful russet eyes, he didn’t give a fuck.
“Oh fucking kiss already, you retards!” A frustrated yell echoed across the car-park from Bob in the little booth.
They both blushed furiously, but Frank drew shakily closer until Gerard’s trembling, cold lips met Frank’s warm, rain-washed ones, and Gerard sighed blissfully, melting against Frank, winding his arms round the musician’s waist and dragging him closer in the rain to feel the warmth of his skinny body as Frank smiled against the blushing artist’s soft lips.
Finally, they pulled back, breathing unevenly into the cold, grey air, eyes wide, hearts thumping, and as Gerard looked wonderingly at the beautiful boy smiling shyly at him through the cold November rain, he felt thrilled that he wouldn’t have to ‘get over that pathetic obsession with the McDonalds guy’ after all.
How was it? I know it was utterly cheesy and stupid, but I hope you liked it…R&R? Which bit did you like (if you liked any of it)? :D it was a pretty good boredom curer, so hope you enjoyed it xD please rate and review and thanks for reading!!
CosmicZombie xo
This was just recorded as a podfic by the lovely Catscanflyy- if you want to listen while you read along, here's the link http://www.ficwad.com/story/190120 ...I'd really recommend it. It's fucking awesome.
Gerard was fucked.
Not in the traditional sense of the word.
In fact, it had been a very, very long time since Gerard had been fucked in the traditional sense of the word. But ahem, that was irrelevant.
Anyway, the reason Gerard was so untraditionally fucked took the 5’4 form of the cute, red-eyeliner wearing guy with a scruffy black mini-mowhawk and chipped black nail polish who worked in the local McDonalds.
Okay, cute was an understatement. The guy was utterly fucking adorable- in the traditional sense of the word. And had Gerard been a more socially confident person, the guy would have been whipped out from behind the counter and into his bed before you could say fast food. Well, maybe with some polite flirting and candlelit dinners first. But yeah, you get the picture.
Sadly, Gerard was not the most socially confident person. In fact, he might have been the furthest thing from socially confident, and had therefore spent the best part of two months agonising over the adorableness of the red-eyeliner wearing guy and at least doubling his intake of McDonalds food.
Of course, had Gerard had the tiniest shred of self confidence, he would have noticed how the scruffy-mowhawked guy smiled so warmly at him whenever he stepped, or rather trembled, into the shop. He might also have noticed how the cute guy managed to serve him just about every time he bought from McDonalds- and that had been a lot recently- or even how he tried to make conversation with bright pink cheeks and a shy smile whenever Gerard wasn’t tripping over his own laces, blushing like a sunburnt tomato with anger management issues, or choking on his food.
Had he noticed all these things, he would have come to the correct conclusion that the guy with the red eyeliner liked him. As in, a lot. But of course, Gerard had been to busy embarrassing himself and stuttering like an incompetent moron to notice, and even if he had noticed, he would never have believed it.
Typically, the 5’4 red-eyeliner wearing guy who worked in the local McDonalds, Frank, thought there was no way someone like Gerard could possibly be into guys, but all the same had bribed his co-worker, Bob, to alert him any time Gerard was in the store so as he could serve him and obsess over how adorably awkward he was.
So basically, the relationship was doomed before it had even begun, and it seemed unlikely nothing would ever transpire; Frank was too stubborn to see how Gerard flushed bright pink whenever he saw him, or how the skinny, raven-haired art student had become almost as common a sight in the restaurant as the tables and chairs, and Gerard was too unconfident to even think about daring to mumble anything more to Frank than ‘Thanks’ or ‘Hi’.
That was, until one grey, rainy afternoon in late November.
Gerard had been having a bad day; he had forgotten his coursework and gotten an earful from the lecturer at college, and unsuccessfully asked out some random guy by the constant pressurising of his equally unsociable younger sibling who insisted he ‘needed to get over that pathetic obsession with the McDonalds guy’. Gerard had agreed only because he realised Mikey had a point, especially when he finished an entire sketchbook of drawings all in some way incorporating the McDonalds guy in various poses and scenarios.
Gerard’s college class had finished late, and he’d been trailing the town for hours in the damp, grey drizzle to try and find somewhere that stocked A5 sketchpads at a reasonable price. By the time the shops had shut, he was soaked to the skin, defeated and despondent, and decided to get a carry out dinner on his way home, where he would call up Mikey for a cheer-up horror movie marathon.
The local McDonalds was only a few blocks away, and considering Frank didn’t work Fridays, Gerard didn’t mind going in looking like a drowned, gothic rat.
And no, he hadn’t memorized Frank’s work shifts so he could come in looking especially nice those days. Nope, not at all. No way.
The grey November drizzle had changed into a downpour by the time he arrived, tiny little bullets of icy rain drumming against the glass of his car windscreen as he chugged into the car park.
After peeking out at the torrential rain and shivering inside his black leather jacket, Gerard decided to wheel the car round and order from the drive-through to avoid further shivering and the possibility of consequently dying of pneumonia.
He pulled up into the small queue for the drive-though and turned his car stereo system on, drumming his fingers on the leather of the steering wheel as Black Flag blasted into his small, beat-up car.
When his car finally trundled to a halt at the drive-through and he wound down his window, Gerard had the shock of his life. In fact, he was pretty sure he just about died of horror on the spot.
Smiling brightly at him from the drive-through window and looking more gorgeous than ever with the sides of his scruffy hair dyed red instead of platinum, nibbling on his lip ring, was none other than the adorable red-eyeliner wearing guy Gerard had been agonising over for months.
And he was right there, grinning his heart-melting lopsided grin.
And Gerard looked like a drowned rat.
And fuck. Fucking fuck.
“Hey,” Frank smiled, looking utterly, unfairly adorable in his McDonalds cap and plain black v-necked t-shirt.
“Ueumooophdiohdajpa…” Was Gerard’s articulate, intelligent and witty response.
Frank had to smile at the crimson cheeks and adorably awkward stuttering. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” He smiled at the scarlet Gerard.
“I meant um, uh…hi,” Gerard stammered, cursing himself.
“Hey,” Frank grinned his mega-watt grin and Gerard did not have to grip the steering wheel tightly in order not to suddenly fly out of the window and into Frank’s face. Nope, definitely not.
“Can I get you anything?” The utterly adorable red eyeliner guy smiled slightly shyly, amused at the look of pure horror on Gerard’s face that implied that he had wound down his car window to see Voldemort serving him rather than the young musician.
“Umm,” Gerard mumbled, trying very, very hard not to accidentally say something so unbelievably clichéd as ‘You. Now. In. My. Bed.’, which would not only be extraordinarily embarrassing, but also might result in the cute eyeliner guy’s fist. In Gerard’s face.
“Black Flag,” The guy noted suddenly, gesturing towards Gerard’s car that still had Black Flag’s Damaged blasting out of the ancient stereo system.
“Um, yeah…you like them?” Gerard said stupidly, trying to somehow manage to look like a cool, sexy drowned gothic rat, which is an impossible feat for anyone, let alone anyone stuttering and bright red with utter humiliation.
“Dude, I fucking love them!” The cute guy cried. “They’re like, the most awesome band ever!”
“Um,” Was yet another of Gerard’s many intelligent and interesting responses.
“I’m Frank, by the way,” The mini-mowhawked guy held out his hand and Gerard just looked at it stupidly for a minute like the utterly moronic moron he was.
“G-Gerard,” He finally managed, tentatively grasping Frank’s hand and trying not to spontaneously combust there and then at the feel of Frank’s soft, slightly callused flesh.
“Cute name,” Frank grinned, and Gerard became a fluorescently scarlet drowned gothic rat clutching very tightly to his steering wheel as if it was his life support.
“Uugeehooof..” Gerard once again demonstrated his wondrous grasp of the English language.
There was a loud, impatient hooting of a car horn behind them, and someone with strawberry blonde stubble and a silver lip ring similar to Frank’s came into view inside the little orders booth, notepad at the ready.
The guy leant towards Frank and muttered something in is ear with a roll of his icy blue eyes, making Frank punch him in the shoulder, narrowly missing his nametag which read in bold black lettering ‘Bob’.
Gerard felt awkward and drummed his long fingers against the leather of his steering wheel in some drastic attempt not to look like a socially awkward, rain-drenched looser wearing too much black. Which he was.
“Sorry about that,” Frank said brightly, making Gerard jump and accidentally make the car start forward a few paces before he managed to stomp on the break pedal and reverse back to the little window, blushing furiously.
“Um, sorry about that,” Gerard mumbled, ducking behind his stands of soaked raven hair and then shaking them hastily back out of his face after catching sight of his reflection in the car mirror and wishing instant plastic surgery was possible.
“It’s fine,” Frank beamed, tucking a strand of his black hair behind his ear and leaning on the little ledge between them. “So um, what can I get you?”
“Um…” Gerard wracked his brains for the name of some kind of food McDonalds sold. “Um…milkshake?” He finally managed, making it sound more like a question.
Frank smiled, warm russet eyes twinkling at Gerard through the rain that fell between them and making the art student feel like a pathetic, love-sick teenager. “Sure, what flavour?”
“Uh…strawberry?”
“Awesome, that’s my favourite too!” Frank beamed, and Gerard was actually pretty sure he felt himself melt slightly there and then. And no, he definitely didn’t have to cling even harder to the steering wheel.
“So,” Frank said as pushed the order towards the strawberry blonde guy in the booth. “You a student?”
Gerard blinked. Frank, the insanely fucking cute red-eyeliner wearing guy from McDonalds, was making conversation with…him?!
“Um, y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, realising that conversation meant he actually had to contribute, rather than just stare and mentally drool over Frank like the loser he was. “Uh, art.”
“Oh cool,” Frank smiled, looking interested. “I suck at drawing!” and he giggled. Proper, high pitched, beyond adorable little giggles that just made Gerard want to haul the red-eyeliner wearing guy through the window of his car and drive off with him, regardless of any stupid laws that might prevent him from doing so.
Gerard smiled awkwardly, trying not to look as if he was having the most inappropriate thoughts about the flexibility of the back seats in his car. “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
“Oh dude, I really am,” Frank laughed. “I can’t even draw fucking stick men!”
Gerard laughed too, hating the high-pitched, slightly feminine sound. Gerard wanted to have a deep, seductive, manly laugh. But then again, nothing else about Gerard was like that, so why should his laugh be? In fact, he was the exact opposite of manly, as his younger sibling told him so kindly on a regular basis, as if he was just trying to add to Gerard’s already non-existent self-confidence. Little fucker.
“So um, what do you do?” Gerard asked, trying to shake himself out of his stupid thoughts.
“I’m a music student,” Frank replied, still smiling widely with those full, pink lips and shimmering dark eyes. “I play guitar.”
Gerard felt his knees weaken and his hand fall from its grip on the handbrake, catching himself just in time before the car decided to make another getaway.
Oh dear god. And he thought there wasn’t anything that would make the McDonalds guy hotter.
“Wow…” He managed through the frantic palpitations of his heart. “Um, are you good?”
“I dunno…I’ve been playing since I was ten and it’s my whole life…I love it. But good? I don’t know- you’d have to judge for yourself,” Frank shrugged, tucking a stubborn strand of dyed-black hair behind his ear.
This of course, was the moment where Gerard said he’d love to hear Frank play sometime, or Frank hinted that Gerard should come and hear him play sometime, and then the two of them could actually get what they both wanted.
But of course, neither of them had the confidence, still thinking that the other would be interested in them like the socially-unconfident idiots they both were.
However, this was where Frank’s strawberry-blonde, stubble-wearing co-worker, Bob came in.
After nearly two months of having to put up with Frank’s lovesick whining and whinging after Gerard first stumbled into the local McDonalds with a vacant, dreamy expression, little black sketchbook and long black stripy scarf wound several times around his lily-white neck, Bob, was, quite frankly, utterly fed up.
He was fed up of Frank’s gooey-eyed expressions as he spent what seemed like hours relating to him how utterly adorable Gerard looked with windswept hair, or how their hands had touched for a second when Frank had handed Gerard his Happy Meal, or how Frank thought Gerard was ‘The One’. Bob could have almost put up with this, had Frank’s crush been doomed and this, Gerard, been totally uninterested, but this was not the case.
The two in question may have been totally blind to the mutual attraction between them, but Bob was not. He could see how Gerard blushed whenever Frank smiled at him, how he got all stuttery and awkward when Frank was taking his order, and when he tripped over things if Frank waved goodbye to him on his way out.
Bob was sick and tired, and Bob was not going to put up with another shift of listening to Frank’s love-sick moaning after Gerard drove off.
So Bob stepped in.
“Hi, Gerard right?” he asked the stammering, drowned gothic rat in the beat up red Volvo, leaning across the overly smiley Frank and surveying the object of his (in Bob’s wise mind) insane co-worker’s affection.
“Um…yeah,” Gerard mumbled, feeling perplexed as to why this guy knew his name.
“Well, Gerard, Frank’s nice, isn’t he?” Bob asked the shy artist bluntly, ignoring Frank’s tiny little angry prods of protest and embarrassed squeals from beside him.
“Um, I guess…” Gerard blushed furiously, looking away.
Bob rolled his eyes to the heavens, and the car behind Gerard’s tooted impatiently once more.
“No I mean, would you date him?” Bob sighed despairingly, earning a small, anguished squeal from the bright-red Frank beside him.
Gerard was so red by this point, he felt ready to explode and die then and there.
“Um…I guess?” He stammered.
“Great!” Bob beamed. “Frank, I know you’d date Gerard, so we’ll just cut to the quick seeing as you two morons have caused a queue of like, eight cars,” Frank’s protests were ignored by his co-worker, who ploughed mercilessly on. “Gerard, how about going out for a meal with my lovely friend here tonight? Say, seven thirty?” Bob finished, blind to the face of a dying-of-embarrassment-face from Frank and dying-of-oh-my-fucking-godness from Gerard.
And with that, Bob left the two blushing boys and went back to taking orders from the very impatient cars that had lined up outside the little booth during his little match-making session.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry about that- my friend Bob, he just- oh fuck. What I’m trying to say is…would you like to?” Frank stammered, still bright red and eyeing Gerard nervously.
Gerard blinked. Twice.
“What?” He breathed, feeling like a gobsmacked goldfish with a heart racing faster than a humming-bird’s and cheeks burning redder than the world’s angriest tomato.
“Um, will you go out with me sometime? I mean, if you don’t mind- I mean if you thought- I just…oh fuck,” Frank trailed off and smiled sheepishly at the shell-shocked art student, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.
“You mean…you…like me?” Gerard breathed stupidly.
“Kinda,” Frank smiled even more sheepishly, and Gerard consequently accidentally stomped on the accelerator in shock, resulting in his car shooting forward across the rainy car park faster than a rocket on crack.
And yeah, his car was shooting across the parking lot and he had no control over it.
Oh.
That wasn’t really a good thing.
Gerard had no time to realise what he’d done, and before he knew it, his car was colliding forcefully with the fence and he was flung forward in his seat as the vehicle juddered to a halt.
He just sat there for a moment, utterly shell-shocked by two things. One; he had just crashed his car. Two; Frank liked him. Frank, the fucking adorable red-eyeliner wearing guy he’d being pathetically obsessing over for months, much to the irritation to…well, just about everyone.
Frank liked him.
Oh yeah, and he’d crashed his car, but what the fuck, FRANK LIKED HIM!
Gerard felt like skipping for joy, but considering he’d just casually mowed down the fence of the local McDonalds car-park fence, he decided it might not be entirely suitable.
However, before he could contemplate the matter further, the door beside him was wrenched open and Frank’s wide eyed, worried face appeared, followed by Bob’s frowning one.
“Shit dude, are you alright?!” Frank gasped, russet eyes wide with concern.
Gerard nodded slightly dazedly. “I-I think so.”
“Come on, out you come then,” Bob sighed, reaching past the trembling, wide-eyed Frank and pulling Gerard reasonably gently from his car and out into the cold, rainy grey car park.
“Sure you’re okay?” Bob asked with narrowed eyes as Gerard stumbled slightly on the wet tarmac.
Gerard nodded again.
“Okay, well in that case, I’ll leave you two to it- people are getting a little…um, impatient,” Bob gestured to the queue of curious cars over by the drive-through window.
He jogged off through the grey rain, leaving Frank to turn worriedly back to Gerard.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked anxiously, gently, tentatively reaching up and running his finger across a little scratch on Gerard’s cheek.
Gerard felt like his whole face was burning under Frank’s touch.
“Um, yeah…” He managed, trying not to seem as if he was leaning into Frank’s touch. Which he totally wasn’t. Like no way, not at all.
Okay, maybe he was the tiniest little bit.
“Sorry about your…um, fence.” Gerard mumbled.
Frank giggled, which just about made Gerard’s heart melt. “Fuck the fence, dude!”
Gerard really hoped he didn’t mean literally.
Frank shook his head, running his soft finger over the scratch again. “I just hope you’re okay.”
Gerard leant further into Frank’s gentle touch, forgetting the queue of curious cars watching them, the remains of his own car impaled on the fence behind them and the drilling rain dribbling down their skin.
Tentatively, with wide eyes, Frank stroked the finger across Gerard’s lips, and Gerard made an extremely embarrassing noise that sounded like something halfway between a purr and a moan.
Frank smiled a more widely, stepping closer and carrying on with trembling fingers that accelerate the frantic beat of Gerard’s stuttering heart further still.
He felt like a pathetic, love-sick teen in a sickeningly clichéd, cheesy chick-flick movie, but really, with Frank this close with trembly, gentle fingers and wide, beautiful russet eyes, he didn’t give a fuck.
“Oh fucking kiss already, you retards!” A frustrated yell echoed across the car-park from Bob in the little booth.
They both blushed furiously, but Frank drew shakily closer until Gerard’s trembling, cold lips met Frank’s warm, rain-washed ones, and Gerard sighed blissfully, melting against Frank, winding his arms round the musician’s waist and dragging him closer in the rain to feel the warmth of his skinny body as Frank smiled against the blushing artist’s soft lips.
Finally, they pulled back, breathing unevenly into the cold, grey air, eyes wide, hearts thumping, and as Gerard looked wonderingly at the beautiful boy smiling shyly at him through the cold November rain, he felt thrilled that he wouldn’t have to ‘get over that pathetic obsession with the McDonalds guy’ after all.
How was it? I know it was utterly cheesy and stupid, but I hope you liked it…R&R? Which bit did you like (if you liked any of it)? :D it was a pretty good boredom curer, so hope you enjoyed it xD please rate and review and thanks for reading!!
CosmicZombie xo
Sign up to rate and review this story