ROLL WITH IT [g.way x reader]

Chapter 9: Finding Common Interests

Wow, he's... a godly man.

"Oh, shit, sorry," Gerard winced, before turning back to Lindsey. "Sorry, got commitments," he laughed slightly, before leaving her.

"It's fine," she replied, though she didn't look fine with it at all; in fact, she sent Mikey an annoyed stare through his back.

As Gerard approached, he finally took notice of you, since you had been half obscured by the table from where he'd stood; "Hi!" he greeted you, with an amount of actual gladness that you didn't expect, and sat down next to you, much to your surprise, "What're you doin' here?"

You shrugged a little, ignoring how your heart rate picked up, "Just kinda," you struggled for words for a second, "hovering really. I don't know half of what's going on in this game but it sounds interesting," you gestured to the dice and board. "You guys don't mind me watching, do you?" you blurted out, realising you'd never asked.

"Not at all!" Ray assured, "It's honestly amazing that you don't think it's boring as hell."

"No, I think it's actually pretty funny to see Mr Iero panicking about non-existent trolls," you remarked, earning a yelp of indignation from said guitarist.

"Just call me Frank," he rolled his eyes, and swung an arm around your shoulder, to give your hair a ruffle. "It sounds so formal when you say 'mister'. It's a stupid word anyway."

"Sure," you agreed hesitantly, feeling incredibly rude to be saying his first name so casually. But if you had permission, then...

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lindsey going back to Kitty; the two hung back, observing you like hawks. You tried to ignore their stares, instead focusing on the game, watching the boys continue their fantasy adventure mildly.

"Where's Bob?" Ray questioned, as he opened up a new guidebook.

"Err..." Gerard trailed off, before the creak of a bed from a couple of rooms away and the delighted maon of a woman interrupted the discussion. "Yeah," he motioned awkwardly to where the noise had come from.

You practically shuddered in discomfort. Eww.

"Well, if he's having fun," Ray tried to reason, but gave up halfway through, shaking his head.

"Man whore," Frank muttered, which made you hold back a screech of laughter.

Gameplay resumed. It was quite peaceful, really; you felt oddly at home; ten minutes of calm passed by, only accompanied by the occasional screams from the others hanging around, and Kitty and Lindsey chatting. For the first time since coming to this stupid tour, you actually felt relaxed, which was a very, very nice feeling.

As you sat, you fiddled with your headphones absentmindedly, which eventually came to the attention of the man next to you. While the others were arguing over a decision to be made while fighting a wizard, Gerard leaned in front of you, to get your attention, his sunglasses accidentally dropping off as he did — you quickly reached out and caught them before they hit the floor, with a clumsy grab.

"Be careful," you suggested, giving them back to him, "they look expensive."

"Believe or not, I bought them at Target," Gerard responded, with a cheeky smile, his eyes now visible to you, and glittering like stars.

You stamped on the urge to just go in and kiss him.

"I was gonna ask if I could see your CD player," he murmured, looking at it with interest.

"Oh, sure," you handed it to him complicitly, though you were somewhat scared to see if he'd dislike your music taste.

He examined it, placing his sunglasses to hang on the collar of his shirt, which was decorated with the logo of 'AC/DC'; "This is a pretty vintage model, where'd you get it?" he remarked, flipping the circular thing over.

"From a store down the road where I live," you answered, not lying for once. It had appeared where the supermarket was to be in 2022, and you'd went to see it out of curiosity. "It sells some weird stuff, this was the most normal item I could find."

"Where do you live?" Gerard asked, before doubling back out of concern, "Not to sound creepy — I'm just curious."

"Don't worry," you laughed slightly, "I live in Watertown, South Dakota."

"Watertown? That's supposed to be, like, tiny," Gerard commented, leaning towards you subconsciously in interest.

"It is," you admitted, "but it's quiet, and I can live by myself peacefully."

"Huh," he mumbled, "living alone, huh?" he paused, before seeing your expression of mild confusion at his words, and elaborating, "Me and Mike lived with our mum for a long time. She's great, letting her two fully grown sons live with her," he giggled a bit at the notion.

Determined to keep the topic from slipping towards your own mother, you pursued the line he'd opened, "So you've lived with her your whole life?"

"I only really lived without her when I went to art school."

"You went to art school?" you tried to sound surprised, despite knowing that he had, "That's really cool, you must be really fucking good at drawing to do that."

He chuckled bashfully, and rubbed the back of his neck, "I wouldn't say so, but..."

"He's lying, he's like Picasso if Picasso wasn't an asshole," Frank chimed in. "The fucker's always drawing something like he'll die if he doesn't."

You wheezed a little, and looked at Gerard, who just waved Frank off, with an eye roll and a giant grin; the singer then opened up the CD player, obviously curious, much to your horror, and you anxiously awaited his reaction. What the hell had you been listening to?

The upward quirk of his lips was reassuring, before he spoke, "His 'n' Hers? Fantastic choice."

You thanked your past self for having bought that 1994 Pulp album.

"You can never really go wrong with Britpop," you relented, with a half shrug.

"I've never heard such a true statement," Gerard replied.

You gulped, before a bold thought overcame you, and you took the headphones from him, and placed it on his head, setting them over his ears tenderly, as if your heavy handedness would break him if you were not careful. Trying to ignore his adorably puzzled gaze, you took the CD player gently, and scrutinised the display.

"I'll play my favourite one, and you can judge me," you informed him; he immediately nodded enthusiastically, before settling in to wait patiently, and you started to press the forward button, till you arrived at track 7.

He waited, then his eyes snapped open and he beamed, "I love this one!"

You couldn't help but smile back, watching as he swung side to side in time with the beat, and mouthed the lyrics. Peering at the other boys, you found them to be still playing, though Frank gave you a suggestive glance, which you tried very hard not to get flustered by.

You looked back to Gerard, who was already looking at you, and now singing softly out loud. Though it was odd, you felt compelled to join in, mumbling along at a lower volume; he shuffled closer to you at that, and your heart leapt in your chest when his shoulder touched yours.

You two exchanged a brief glance of mutual complicity, before you returned to murmuring along to the song — as you tried to ignore the poisonous glare that Lindsey was shooting though your back.

'But don't you remember that you once said,
That you liked happy endings?'