ghosts and cigarettes ; frerard

your scraped up knees

the shop was warm in comparison to the harsh chill of the wind outside, and frank was grateful that he got to stay there all day. the coffee shop was always warm and smelled like coffee beans - as it should - and frank loved that smell.

he wasn't originally going to work in a coffee shop. he was going to be in a band, and tour worldwide, and all of that shit, but it didn't work. ray had decided hairdressing was his calling, and matt wanted to work in a record shop for some fucking reason, and bob was just a dick overall and frank didn't like him. frank was still in touch with matt, and sometimes matt would give frank records to play in the shop.

so there he was, a lonely punk, working his ass off by making coffee for each and every straggler wandering through the door.

and yeah, he was pretty fucking good at making coffee.

"frank!" brian tapped his shoulder. he turned around, coming face to face with his smiling co-worker. "ready to open shop?"

frank nodded absentmindedly. he started stacking the paper cups in a convenient place. that was the deal - frank did the work, like making the coffee and cleaning and stacking and organizing so that he could stay in the flat upstairs.

brian was a nice man, if not too nice. when he had found frank, huddling in the doorway of a building during a snowstorm last year, a plastic cup with a couple of coins in it placed in front of him, brian had taken him in without a second thought. frank couldn't pay the rent, but he payed with work instead, which was a pretty good fucking deal if you ask him.

and he had finally saved up to get a new les paul to replace his old one. he had to sell his old one to get money to try and keep himself alive just that little bit longer.

he made sure the milk wasn't spoiled - last time he tried to pour it, it was practically cheese - and waited for the first customer.

within minutes, the place was full. turns out people like coffee just as much as frank did.

"iced latte!" brian called behind him, and frank set to work making yet another coffee. by now, the amount of coffees he had made within just that day was uncountable, yet he could still keep up with the steady stream of orders spouting from their mouths.

as soon as he had finished making the drink (which, to be honest, he really wanted to drink right there,) he muttered to brian, "what's the dude's name that wanted the iced latte?"

"gerard," he murmured back, keeping a fake smile on for his next customer.

frank nodded. he walked back to where customers were to pick up drinks and called out, "an iced latte for gerard?"

nobody showed up for a couple minutes before frank saw a man hunched over a sketchbook or journal of some sort in the corner table.

all frank could see of him was the shaggy black hair that fell over his face and his skinny jeans and hoodie. and yeah, frank would be lying if he said he wasn't just a little intrigued.

"ah, iced latte for a gerard?" frank called out again, searching the shop for some sign someone was this gerard.

and there it was: the black-haired guy's head jerked up, eyes wide at the sound of - his name? he - gerard? - shut the sketchbook or journal or whatever shut and made his way to frank, a small smile playing on his lips.

frank could see his face now. gerard had thin, feminine lips paired with a small, slightly upturned nose and wide hazel eyes and yeah, frank was so gay.

"here you go!" frank let a cheery smile spread across his lips as he held out the drink to gerard.

"ah, thanks." gerard smiled uncertainly, his fingers slightly brushing frank's as the drink passed from frank to gerard.

and shit, if frank said he could concentrate the rest of the day, that would be a fucking lie.

--

i don't know how i feel about this but whaTEVER THIS IS FINE FOR NOW

also a certain someone loves comments so hmu

and also i may or may not have been asked out yesterday and i officially have a girlfriend ahHH which tbh is really surprising to me because i feel like nobody would have a crush on me but whateveR IT COUNTS

-urie