FicWad

This is dedicated to mistressxwinter, because she got me into writing Frerard, and is also dedicated to RyanRossIsLove because she's a wonderful person and has been awaiting a Frerard.
Enjoy...^^



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Bob and Ray stared at each other, aghast. The entire band was off the tour bus; it was one of the break days, where they were free to roam the city as they pleased. Bob and Ray had forgotten their wallets, so they had come back on the bus. But they weren't expecting what they found...or, rather, heard.

They heard someone's short, quick breaths; the two had squinted their eyes at one another. Where had it come from? Moving forward carefully, they deduced the noise was, indeed, coming from the semi-large bathroom that was on the bus along with them.

The thought that someone was still on the bus puzzled them slightly. They had been sure that everyone-Frank, Mikey, Gerard, and themselves-had been scurrying away since quite early in the morning. Ray and Bob had left the bus without a backwards glance at about eight in the morning, meandering around the large city. They just came back after deciding they wanted to buy something from a shop, four hours later, and realizing they didn't have their wallets. Mikey was not on the bus, obviously, for he had called Bob before hand saying he was out with Alicia. He said Gerard and Frank had left as well, and were roaming the metropolis as well. So who was it?

Moving closer, they pressed their ears against the door.

"Shit."

It was Frank's voice. Bob blinked, giving a bewildered look to Ray, who merely shrugged. Frank, possibly, had come back to the tour bus for the same reason, and maybe decided he needed a shower? Heavens knew, they seemed to forget the necessity of showering when they were touring for too long.

"Ow," another voice mumbled, causing eyebrows to rise quite comically. It was Gerard's voice that floated to them, not Frank's. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, sorry," came Frank's hasty, breathless voice. Without meaning to, Bob and Ray pressed against the door harder, their ears literally smashed against the solid oak wood. The doorknob glistened dully above their heads, threatening Ray venomously.

"Wait-ouch! Damn you, Frank! You're not supposed to jab it in that hard!"

Bob's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates, unwanted and rather disturbing thoughts pilfering his innocence. Ray merely sat, hands pressed firmly against the shag carpeting, fingers entwining slightly in the soft fabric.

"Look, I'm new to this, alright?" Frank sounded irritated. "I've never done this before, leave me alone. Why couldn't you do it?"

Gerard snorted in indignation. "Come on, you have had to have done this before." Disbelief drenched his voice. "And I couldn't do it because it was your damn idea! Here, stick it in here, okay?"

Unable to stop himself, Ray let out a silent snort of laughter, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Bob blinked once again, transfixed by their strange conversation.

"Okay. Did I get it right?"

A little moan was Gerard's response. "I'll take that as a yes," came Frank's quirky voice. "'Kay..."

After a minute or so, Frank yelped; "damn! You're hot! Take off your shirt, take it off!"

"Why?" Gerard asked, a small, strangled noise escaping his throat. "You take your goddamn shirt off."

"I'm the one in charge. Just take it off!"

"Fine, fine."

"'Kay...now...what else? Should you take your pants off, too?"

"I am not taking my pants fucking off!"

"If you don't take them off, I'll take them off for you, dammit."

"Then why don't you?" Gerard challenged, voice high and angry. He let out a cough that sounded like a cross between discomfort and pleasure. "Frank, what the fuck. Get the hell off!"

"I told you I'd take them off if you didn't take them off for me!"

"Do you have to sit RIGHT THERE?"

Flabbergasted, Bob held a hand up to his mouth to stop the giggles from becoming full-blown heaves of laughter.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY PANTS, FRANK."

"Didn't I just say!? If you didn't take them the fuck off, I would!"

"You're invading my personal space, Frank Iero! Get the fuck out of my pants, and let me do this myself!"

"You're inconsiderate and ungrateful; you know that, Gerard Way? I'm trying to help you and all you do is yell!"

"Well, of course!" Gerard scoffed. "I was doing just fine without your help, and all you do is..."

Ray lost it; he broke out in laughter, so loud and raucous it cut off Gerard's angry words. He fell forward, barely grazing Bob's bent knee, face flat on the ground as he cried in amusement.

"...Frank. I think Ray's outside the door."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Then, the door slowly pulled backwards, and Frank stood in the doorway. Gerard lay on the ground, half naked except for boxers, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. His cheeks were rosy, almost unhealthily so, his hair matted to his face and his forehead sticky with sweat.

Bob shook his head, pinching his nose. "What the hell," was all he had to say about the odd conversation.

"It-it wasn't what it sounded like." Frank's eyes grew wide as he raised his hands up, slightly, in defense. "Believe me. Gerard...well, we came home because he had a fever. But he wouldn't..."

Gerard looked down, cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink if it was possible. "Thermometer issues, and Mr. Fix-It thought that if I took my clothes off, I'd cool off, apparently."

"You're...supposed to sweat out fevers," Bob said faintly, his voice distorted by his plugged nose.

Frank and Gerard gave each other faltering looks, before they both exclaimed at the same time, "oh."

Done with his fit of laughter, Ray reared forward, sitting on his haunches. "I think you guys are lying," he chuckled. Frank's ears burned scarlet. "I think you're just using that as a cover up!"

"No! We're telling the truth, Ray! Why do I still have my clothes on, then?"

Ray shook his head, giggling slightly. "What ever," was his response as he stood up. Bob stood up as well, brushing imaginary dirt off his pants as he coughed loudly.

"This never happened?" he asked in a meek voice, his fingers no longer clasped around his nose, but still looking quite unstable. Frank merely nodded, unable to speak, as Gerard leaned his head against the toilet.

"In any case, that was the worst no-sex I've ever had in my life."