october challenge | frerard | ✔️

twenty two - survive

twenty-two: to survive gerard's shameless flirting
(guys im such a slut for manipulating prompts. sorry, no horror. also i know i already lost the challenge but this is mainly to keep me writing which has been hard with school and shit)

"Hey, babe," Gerard grinned as he walked into our flat.

"Hi, Gee," I answered dully. His flirtiness, even though it still made my heart jump three feet in the air, was generalised, as I assumed, because it didn't seem like it was strictly directed towards me. When I'd asked Mikey, (who, by the way, was my best friend and I was going to room with until he decided he wasn't enough of an art hoe to go to SVU) had said that he was never flirty around people he didn't want to flirt with, but as time passed and we became better friends and went places together, I decided that yes, he did. Gerard did flirt with anyone and everyone that remotely looked like they had a dick.

He was kind of a slut, but as soon as I'd confided in Mikey, he'd said that I'd lost my mind. But I knew I hadn't. Every art gallery or concert he and I went to, every gay bar, every cafe with cute baristas, everywhere that we went together, he'd flirt with everyone, everyone but me.

Which, by the first-year mark we'd hit rooming together, I'd become extremely jealous, because there's a cute guy one fucking bedroom away from me and he doesn't even notice the way I stare at his arse when he's half-awake in his boxers, stumbling around for coffee; or the way I get lost in his eyes when he leans over the table during dinner to inform me about some new drama in the visual arts department; or the way I savour every moment cuddling together on the couch when we watch movies together on lonely Saturday nights. 

Yeah, I know I'm pathetic, but it's okay because when we were alone together, the flirting was relentless. I sighed.

"What's on the agenda for this Friday night?" I asked, knowing there would be something, and I honestly needed to get out of the house.

"Well, Mikey told me he texted you. He wants to get dinner together, the three of us," Gerard said with a smile and plopped down next to me on the couch where until his arrival, I'd been reading a book.

"I haven't looked at my phone all day," I said.

"That's a lie. You're playing music right now," Gerard scoffed.

"Alright, so I may have scrolled through Spotify, but nothing new there. I should probably check my texts," I said tiredly and opened my phone to see a message from Mikey portraying exactly that. "Well, I'd love to."

"Awesome!" Gerard said and I felt a his hand settle on my thigh and squeeze a bit. I bit my lip and looked at some other text messages and replied to one before turning to look at Gerard. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Where are we going? Do I need more than a band shirt and jeans?"

"Uh, nah, just Chinese or something."

"God, not again," I grumbled and put my phone away Gerard rolled his eyes.

"Come on Frank, when do you not want Chinese?" he sighed, clearly annoyed.

"Right now. I'm kind of craving lasagna," I mumbled guiltily. "We can do Chinese if you want though."

Gerard shook his head. "Mikey wanted Italian too, but I insisted you'd want Chinese. I was just lookin' out for you, dude."

"Whatever," I chuckled, and then sat up, putting away my book. "Text Mikey telling him that I'm on his side."

"No, you text him. I'm gonna shower."