ghosts and cigarettes ; frerard

heaven ain't got a vacancy

it was now monday.

frank hated mondays.

of course, so did most people, but that didn't stop frank from trying to be the biggest pessimist he possibly could, so when he trudged downstairs and into brian's apartment behind the shop to find brian smiling at him, he just snorted and moved towards the kitchen.

free coffee is one of the perks of working in a coffee shop. frank had a tradition every day of drinking coffee immediately after waking up, and living above a coffee house turns out to be a great way of going about that.

the second perk of not only working in a coffee shop but being a barista is that frank made fucking amazing coffee. not even brian, the founder of the coffee house, was as good at making coffee as frank.

so not only did frank get to have free coffee, but he got really good free coffee.

only once he had his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee did he prance out to brian and greet him with a sing-song "good morning!"

brian only scoffed. "don't sound too excited."

frank frowned and sat next to brian at the tiny dining room table. "oh come on, brian." he poked the older man's cheek. "you know how i am without coffee."

brians face softened and he nodded. "alright, yeah, i do. but frank, get dressed, shop opens in twenty minutes."

frank's eyes widened and he nodded, rushing back up the stairs into his own flat, taking care not to spill his precious coffee onto the steps.

he threw on whatever - whatever being black skinny jeans and a black flag shirt, because yeah, as hard as he tried to look casual, he put a lot of effort into his outfits - and slipped his apron on over it. he checked the clock on the wall. ten minutes till opening. gave him enough time to do his hair.

he gelled it quickly, taking breaks to sip at his coffee. today was a bad day. when he looked into the mirror, it was one of the days where he absolutely hated his reflection and wanted to smash the mirror and claw it his skin until it just came off. which, of course, was unrealistic, so he just turned away and walked down the stairs with his now empty mug.

he took his place stacking cups behind the counter again and waited for the wave of caffeine deprived people to wander in.

mondays seemed to be his worst day of the week, and he completely understood - after two days off, partying and doing whatever the fuck you wanted to do, it was time to go back to school or work or wherever you went and it was exhausting, to be honest.

frank was supposed to be in school. he wanted to go to school. he wanted to go to this school near the shop where you could go for music or art but only for a scholarship and shit it was his dream school, but brian... brian didn't have the money. the shop didn't get the money needed, and as much as frank insisted he could get other side jobs, brian insisted that he was going to be the one to pay for frank's schooling.

frank cranked out coffee after coffee once the doors opened. everything was so grounded into his memory that it was just second nature now.

during a lull in the orders, frank leaned over the counter and out across the shop. he scanned the customers sitting in chairs. he wasn't looking for anyone in particular. definitely not for that cute boy with the sketchbook from last week.

and there he was, sitting in the same chair, hunched over his sketchbook, hand moving furiously across the paper, hair hanging over his face. though, this time, instead of a baggy grey hoodie, he was wearing a black denim jacket and - was that a misfits t-shirt?

and fuck, frank was crushing a little too hard now.

"iced latte," brian called behind his shoulder towards frank. frank snapped out of his daze and his hands automatically made the drink, and though he looked to be focusing on the drink in his hands, he was still thinking about gerard.

"iced latte?" frank called out over the counter, and voila, gerard stood up and timidly made his way towards frank, sketchbook clutched to his chest.

"here you go," frank said softly, smiling as he handed the drink to gerard.

gerard smiled a small smile - small but genuine, or so frank hoped - and again his fingers brushed franks as he grabbed his drink. frank suppressed a shudder and forced himself to turn away to work on the other drinks.

frank totally didn't spend the rest of the work day staring at gerard as he scribbled rapidly on the paper of his sketchbook.

--

yay

i was actually really excited about this chapter so thats good - actually, im excited about this whole idea, but this hasnt been taking off as well as my other fics, so im slightly worried that people dont like the idea? is it too cliche? like, is this overused? should i delete it?

also urie is sad bc i got to sixty followers and i was so excited buT someone decided to unfollow me and now im back with 59 :^(

oh and i might start doing dedications? for like the people who commented and voted the most or who made me feel happy [for once] bc they are amazing

if i start doing that then here's todays:

dedicated to spookywentz because they commented and voted on this story and that made me smile because thats the first feedback ive gotten on this story :^) and because they gave me some self esteem which ive been running out of recently. thank you!!

-urie