When we got inside he sat on the couch while I found clean clothes for him, I wanted him to be as comfortable as possible so I just found an XL hoodie, baggy boxers, plaid pajama pants, and some fuzzy socks because I fucking love fuzzy socks.
"Alright," I say digging through one of my bathroom cabinets, I pulled out a new toothbrush and sighed in relief,
"Got it?" I ask, handing it over to him, his hand shakily grabs the toothbrush,
"Sooo, the toothbrush can just sit in here," I say pointing to the old MTV coffee cup where I also keep mine,
"Oh, and the toothpaste goes in there too," I add in, I can help but find myself spacing out, I couldn't take my eyes off of him,
"I don't know what to say," he says shifting awkwardly, shit
"Oh! Shit, sorry, I'll let you clean up," I say, my face reddening as I realized he was probably uncomfortable with me looking at him like that. As I started to walk out a hand with little to no grip touches my back. I swear I'm so fucking stupid sometimes, I tugged at my hair a bit as I started to walk out. I turn around,
"N-no, like, how to say this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much," he says looking down trying to hide his glossy eyes that he attempted to hide, he doesnt do a very good job.
"You're welcome," I said softly turning around and closing the bathroom door for him, I set up the old couch with a few blankets and pillows and set the remotes on the coffee table.
As I sighed I made my way to my room, what the hell was I thinking? Why would I take some homeless guy home with me to let him sleep on my couch, eat my food, use my things? Was he going to rob me? My head starts to hurt as I overthink every possible scenario that could happen.
I took my shirt off and changed into baggy basketball shorts and got into bed and pulled at my hair in frustration.
I tried to ease my terrified thoughts on how this man may or may not murder me in my sleep and take everything I own. My eyes feel heavier and heavier as the Family Guy episode credits rolled. As I laid back on my tower on pillows where my body was practically at a 120-degree angle. The remote laying softly in my hand, the other over my bare chest that was rising and falling slowly, my thin black sheet laying on my knees.
I had just deep cleaned my house, my bed smelt fucking good, I washed literally everything on my bed, including my comforter and pillows, with an expensive laundry detergent that I probably can't afford now that I think about it. I was just about to fall asleep -
"Frank?" I opened my eyes to see Gerard with his hoodie up standing at the door of my room,
"Yeah?" I mumble as I stretch my legs and arms a bit and let out an ugly yawn,
"Do you have a hair brush?" he asks as he looks down once again, I mumble a response and got up, making my way to the bathroom. I dug around once again in the cabinet drawers and pulled out a hairbrush and gave it to him, I looked up at him and he was flustered, his face red as he mumbled a thank you. His eyes were sizing me, and landing on my torso every few seconds. I outline my tattoos with my index finger like a fucking idiot,
"Sorry, I'm not used to having people over," I chuckled and shrugged as I forgot how underdressed I was but I found amusement watching how flustered he got as I kept touching my chest.
"Thank you," he mumbled shyly once again with a nervous blank expression on his face, taking his hood down and started to brush his tangled black hair, I smiled at the slightly taller man in front of me. I studied his pale face for a second, I felt a twinge of pain in my heart as I saw his deep veiny rings under his eyes, he looked so exhausted. I smiled sadly as I looked at this person in front of me. I saw yellow bruises on his neck and felt uncomfortable.
My hand twitched as I caught myself before my hand could actually make contact with his hair. I'm usually not this impulsive yet I was so close to running my hands through it.
He stopped brushing his hair and looked over at me with his eyebrows slightly knitted together,
"Shit, I'm sorry, I keep spacing out, I'm gonna get to bed now," I mumble and turn around,
"Goodnight," he says politely as I walk out of the small bathroom with a smile on my face.
YOU ARE READING
Deadbeat Valintine
FanfictionFrank is about to kick out a drunk homeless man out of his bar, he wakes him up and thinks again.
