Break the Law For Me [completed]

t w e n t y s i x

"Alright." Gerard blinked. He hadn't really been expecting that answer. He moved to sit on top of one of the tables, putting his feet on either side of a chair. He gestured, "Sit here. It'll be easier for me than if we were level with each other."

Frank nodded awkwardly. The way they were positioned meant he was sat between Gerard's legs and his blush only deepened.

When Gerard's fingers came in to contact with his neck as he went to brush his hair back, Frank jumped. "Your hands are freezing!" He encased Gerard's hands in his own, trying to warm them up.

"Sorry." He smiled weakly.

"Why the fuck are you always so cold?"

"I have bad blood circulation." That earned an even more puzzled look, so he continued, "My blood doesn't really reach my hands or feet, so they're pretty much always cold."

"Jesus." Frank looked at Gerard's fingers, the ends were tinted a faint purple. "You should wear gloves, or something."

"It's fine." Gerard shrugged. "I don't feel it."

"Are you sure?" He knew it probably wasn't his business, but he would have liked if he could do something to help with it. "What if you got frostbite? Would you know?" He asked curiously.

"I think I'd feel that." Gerard chuckled. "I'd realise if my limbs started falling off."

"Good to know." Frank nodded, switching his gaze to Gerard's eyes, which were looking right back at him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slowly let go of his hands, then settled comfortably in the chair. "You can carry on. I'll get used to it."

-

The feeling of having Gerard play with his hair was sending shivers running down his spine, which then made him involuntarily shudder, which Gerard would then quietly chuckle at. Frank didn't know if Gerard knew he was the cause of his chills, and he kind of hoped he didn't.

A few times, Frank would lean in to him –mainly because Gerard kept pulling his hair back, but a little because he was so relaxed and just wanted to close his eyes, rest his head on Gerard's chest and fall asleep.

Also, Frank was impressed. "How are you so good at this?" He eventually asked.

Gerard bit his lip. "Promise you won't laugh at me?"

"I won't." He held out his pinkie. "Promise." Gerard linked their fingers, then quickly returned to his hair, and Frank could hear him rolling his eyes.

"Alright." Gerard took a deep breath. "I used to plait my own hair."

"You what?" A grin spread across his lips.

Whining, Gerard frowned, "You said you wouldn't laugh."

"And I'm not," he held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just surprised." He paused, chewing his cheek. "Well, actually I'm not. . . You're a bit feminine."

"Hey," He pouted, "I am not."

"It's not a bad thing." Frank reassured, shrugging his shoulders. Honestly, he liked the fact Gerard wasn't butch or like the usual typical guy, because he wasn't a typical guy.

It was silent for a while before Gerard spoke up again. "I can be manly." He stated, though he didn't sound very sure.

At that, Frank did laugh. "Okay."

"I can!" He nudged him in the thigh with his foot.

"Oh, yeah?" He swivelled around in his seat, and Gerard had to almost lean over him to keep his hair in place so he didn't have to start all over again. "Prove it."

Furrowing his brows, Gerard motioned for Frank to turn around again, which he did. "How?"

"I don't know?"

Now, Gerard had an answer, but it wasn't exactly suitable to say in school, however they were friends and no one else was around yet, so he said it anyway. "Well, I've got a dick and that's as manly as you can get."

Frank snorted, almost falling off his chair. Raising his eyebrows, he fought back the laughter and shock in his throat, then challenged, "Have you?"

"Yes, but I' not proving that, so you'll have to take my word for it."

"I don't have to take your word for it." Frank smirked. "I've seen you in tight jeans."

Eyes wide, Gerard's face went bright red. "Frank!" He breathed, smacking his arm playfully. He was practically on fire.

"What?" He snickered, hitting Gerard on the shin as payback. "It's not like I was looking."

"Then, how do you know?"

Frank sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's a given, Gee, they're tight jeans."

"Still." Gerard huffed. "You do makeup."

He bit his lip. "Touché."

-

"All done." Gerard beamed. To secure Frank's hair, he'd used an elastic band from one of the desk drawers. It worked fine, but it was probably going to get tangled in his hair and going to hurt like a bitch when taken out.

Frank traced the plait with his fingers. It was smooth and neatly done; he was stunned. He stood up and wandered over to the mirror, checking it out.

"It suits you." Gerard commented, pushing the chair under the table.

"Ha." Frank deadpanned, though he couldn't help but grin because it kind of did. "No it doesn't."

"It does." He raised his eyebrows. "Don't argue."

"I have to argue." Frank chuckled. Gerard went to reply, looking like he had an answer full of sass, but the bell shrieked above their heads before he could utter anything.

"Shit!" Frank exclaimed. He had English first, and that was on the other side of the building. Grabbing his bags, he hurried towards the door. He vaguely heard Gerard call "goodbye" after him as he left, but the blood pounding in his ears blocked out most of the noise. He was terrified of being late.

-

Most of the day had passed, and Frank had heard whispers. They probably weren't about him, but his anxiety told him otherwise.

It was 6th period now, meaning he had art, so he was expecting Gerard to come in to the middle room, though Brendon walked in instead. That was extremely weird as they hadn't talked in weeks. Frank had no idea what to say.

"Hey, princess." Brendon greeted cheerfully.

Frank managed a meagre smile. "Hey." There was an awkward pause.

"I like this." He said as he stood behind Frank, examining his hair. "Who did it?"

"Uhm," Frank mumbled, then frowned. Was that possibly the only reason Brendon had come to see him at all? To ask about his hair? "Me?"

He furrowed his brows. "Really? Cool." Shrugging his shoulders, he slid in to the seat next to him. "Mind if I sit in here to do my art?"

Confused, Frank nodded. Why are you here? he thought.

Unfortunately, his question never got answered. Yes, Brendon talked, but it was about random nonsense, and truthfully, Frank barely listened as he was concentrated trying to answer the question himself.

Honestly, Brendon was only there because he missed him.

[Published 27 November 2019]