FicWad

#43- Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles".

"So, Gee, how many times a day do you have sexual thoughts about pineapples?"

Gerard looked at Frank, eyebrows quirked. "Pardon?" he asked calmly.

"How many times a day do you have sexual thoughts about pineapples?" Frank repeated, pulling a small notebook and a pencil out of his pocket.

"Zero," said Gerard simply. When Frank was in an asking-stupid-questions sort of mood, it was usually best to just not engage too much.

"Mmmhmm," said Frank, scribbling something down in his notebook. "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," Gerard said, heading over to the kitchenette to grab some coffee.

Frank trailed after him. "Okay, well... if you were stuck on a desert island, would you rather have fishing rods and two cans of beans or signal flares and matches?"

Gerard thought about it for a moment. "Would I have a can opener?"

"No, but you're a creative guy, Gee, I'm sure you could figure it out."

"Signal flare and matches" Gerard decided.

"Interesting" Frank said, scribbling that down as well. "Okay one more question. On a scale of 1 to 10, how adorable am I?"

"Oh, definitely a ten, Frank," said Gerard drily. "May I have my coffee in peace now?"

"Sure, go ahead," Frank smirked. He looked at his notebook and muttered," That'll do nicely for my psychological profile..."

"What?" said Gerard, glancing up from the contents of his mug, but Frank had already skipped off, probably to go bother some other poor bastard.

---

"Okay" said Frank that evening, standing in front of the television that Gerard, Ray, Mikey and Bob were all watching. He ignored their exclamations of annoyance and flipped open his little notebook. "I've completed my psychological profiles."

"You're insane," said Bob in exasperation.

"Ray," said Frank, ignoring Bob. "According to my profile, you've always harbored a secret desire to die all your hair bubble gum pink. All of it."

Ray facepalmed. Frank flipped the page.

"Mikey," he said. "According to my profile, you spend approximately 69% of your time fantasizing about licking Pete Wentz's batheart tattoo."

Mikey's eyes went very wide. "Wait, what?!" he yelped.

"Bob," Frank continued. "You're an asshole."

Bob rolled his eyes. "Thanks, buddy, you too."

"WHAT about Pete's batheart tattoo?!" Mikey practically shrieked.

"And Gerard," said Frank, looking up from his notebook and totally disregarding Mikey. His eyes twinkled mischeviously and Gerard's stomach gave a funny little jolt.

"According to my psychological profile," Frank said, "You are completely in love with me!"

Gerard's mouth was suddenly very dry. The others had all fallen silent- Mikey had even stopped throwing a hissy fit.

Frank glanced around at them. "What?" he asked.

"Dude, holy shit, how'd you get that from those bullshit questions you were asking?!" Mikey piped up.

"Well, I mean, I'm just...What?" Frank sounded extremely confused. Gerard opened his mouth to tell Mikey to shut up, but no words came out.

"I don't get it! How'd you manage to get an actual accurate profile of Gerard just from those stupid questions?!" Mikey went on.

"...What?" asked Frank.

Fuck everything, Gerard thought.

Frank looked over at him. "Gee?" he said uncertainly.

"Um," said Gerard.

"...You know what? I'm suddenly really tired. I'm going to bed," said Ray, jumping to his feet.

Bob followed suit. "Same," he said.

"Yeah, I've got...um... stuff I gotta do," said Mikey hurriedly.

And, like the amazing and supportive friends they were, they hightailed it.

Gerard and Frank both stared after them helplessly. Frank turned to look at Gerard briefly, then glanced down at his notebook, a conflicted expression on his face. Gerard looked down at his knees.

Next thing he knew, Frank's fingers were under his chin, tilting it upwards, and then Frank's lips were on his and Gerard whole mind was this jumbled mixture of what the fuck just happened, what the fuck is happening and -insert excited squealing here-.

Then Frank pulled away suddenly and Gerard's heart sank a little.

"Shit," said Frank ruefully. "I probably should asked you if Mikey was being serious before I did that. Damn. Sorry."

Gerard looked at him and noticed how he was flushing slightly and looking all worried like maybe he'd upset Gerard or something and he said "Shut up" and pulled him back in for another kiss.

"Oh yeah, P.S., Frank, I DO NOT FANTASIZE ABOUT THE BATHEART TATTOO THAT OFTEN, FUCKE-" Mikey yelled, poking his head back into the room.

When he saw what was going on, he promptly choked on the rest of his sentence.

"Ugh! No fair! How come when you're an annoying little shithead, everything turns out awesome for you?" he complained.

Frank flipped him off, and Mikey stomped out muttering about how Frank was a dick. "THEY'RE EATING FACE," he complained loudly to the others in the bunk room, to which there was a chorus of "ewwww"s.

Frank laughed into the kiss and Gerard grinned, for once in his life feeling grateful for Frank's annoying schemes.

a/n: ugh, not so sure about this one. DX please please let me know if it was okay!