frerard oneshots

Italian Restaurants

"Anthony!"

I turned to the clear window, flipping him off. He was shocked to say the least. He would be furious with me later, but I couldn't find it in myself to give a shit at the moment. I ripped open the car door, starting and driving back home. Home to where I had been unable to pack all my bags fast enough and still went to high school. Permanently having to stay with my parents.

Pulling in the drive, I noticed Gerard from across the street. Sitting on his porch, having a smoke. Because he was eighteen, able to move out and be independent, all while watching my struggle.

He was a senior, and the hottest thing known to man kind. My crush, the person I admired and looked up to. Partly because I was short, but mostly because he was older and was more intimidating.

He didn't talk to me too much, but if he ever noticed me stepping outside or hearing my parents and me arguing as I fumed out the door, he would be outside sitting on his porch having a smoke. Smirking at me as puffs of smoke left his lips.

I stepped out, slamming the door, throwing him a glance as that playful glint reflected in his eyes and the corners of his lips curled into that famous smirk.

I blushed, hoping he couldn't notice from across the street as I rushed inside the house, up to my room to jack off.

×××

I knew that waking up would be hell. Because it was still a weekend and I still had to help out at the restaurant. I had to deal with my dad and mom saying: "you'll be fine" every five minutes.

But now, it wasn't going to be fine, I wasn't going to be fine. I was probably going to end up working at some damn family pasta restaurant for the rest of my life and god, I think I'd rather die than do that.

I rushed out the door, fully knowing I just threw on random clothes and that I was late for work. I was so fed up, and didn't even care about the fact that my pants were unbottoned and my shirt was wrinkled. That is, until I stepped outside, once again seeing Gerard smoking.

I made a low aggrivating noise in the back of my throat, as he eyed me from my parked car.

"I was thinking of coming over later," I heard him mumble as he started walking across the street. I gulped, nodding frantically and turning around hoping I didn't seem rude when really I just wanted to fix my pants and look presentable.

"What?" I asked, turning around to face him, tossing my bangs across my forehead. He smiled, tipping the ash off of his cigarette. Christ sake, I could probably have an orgasm just staring at him.

"I was thinking of coming over to Iero's Italian."

The way he said it was pure flirting and sexy. I looked him down, biting my lip and fighting back the yearning urge in my lower region.

"O-okay," I stuttered out weakly.

"My family wanted to celebrate my birthday and so-"

"Oh fuck, i-it's your birthday," I groaned out, pulling at my hair. How the hell could I have forgotten. I even wrote it down in my fucking calander, how shitty could I get.

He shyly smiled at me.

"Yeah, it is. But they wanted me to pick somewhere to eat."

I wish he would've kept talking, I would let him talk forever. How sometimes one side of his mouth curled up and his lips quirked in a smile. Beautiful.

"You're a vegan?"

That's the first thing you think of, Frank? Nice, nice going, he totally digs you.