Romantic Notions (Frerard)

Sixteen: Drunken Regrets

"Where's Frank? I haven't seen him all day," Lindsey asked, taking a seat in front of Gerard's desk after she'd handed him his third cup of coffee for the morning.

"We went ice skating last night, and he fell and cut his forehead open, and after spending all night in the E.D., the boss let him have the day off," Gerard said tiredly, yawning and rubbing his eyes. A smile played about his lips, the grumpy demeanor he'd usually express when he was tired surprisingly absent.

"There's definitely something different about you today," Lindsey chuckled, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're smiling and in a good mood, when you've got bags under your eyes darker than my damn boots."

"Well, thanks for that, Lindsey," he laughed, turning his chair to face her. "But I have no idea what you're talking about..." A light blush tinted his cheeks as he turned back to his computer, unable to stop the smile tugging at his lips from making itself known.

"What happened between you and Frank last night—"

"Nothing happened! Why would you assume—"

"Gerard Arthur Way, I have known you since kindergarten; you cannot lie to me," Lindsey said firmly, effectively ending their back-and-forth interrupting of each other. "Now tell me what the fuck happened, so I can get excited!"

"He might've kissed me, and I kissed him back, and we might be boyfriends now, but it's not a big deal, and it's not your business, anyways," Gerard said quickly, already preparing himself for his best friend's excited squeal.

"Oh, Gee, I'm so fuckin' happy for you!" she squealed, hurrying around the desk to hug him tightly before rushing to the door. "Be right back; I've gotta tell Jamia!"

She was gone before he could say another word, smiling to himself as he glanced at the clock and saw he only had a few hours left until he could see Frank again.

———————

Gerard smiled as he approached Frank's door, the small paper bag under his arm crinkling softly as he knocked. Frank was there and beaming within seconds, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Gerard's lips without even thinking about it.

"Ooo, what's that?" he chuckled as the snatched the little bag, grinning as he opened it and the familiar scent of blackberries hit his nose.

"You stopped at Toro's," he whispered, the soft expression he wore making the blonde man's heart feel as if it would explode.

"I know you can't go a day without one," he laughed, making himself comfortable on the couch. "You wouldn't be my Frankie if you weren't so obsessed with those things."

"Say it again," Frank crooned, situating himself with his head in the blonde man's lap as he sprawled across the couch.

"Say what? 'My Frankie?'" Gerard giggled, lazily running his finger's through the now thoroughly blushing man's hair.

"Everything feels so surreal..." the tattooed man sighed, looking up into Gerard's eyes. "You promise I didn't give myself brain damage and this isn't some coma dream?"

"I promise you. I'm here, and I'm real."

Frank paused for a moment, a smile passing over his lips as he narrowed his eyes. "That's exactly what a fake dream-person would say."

Gerard playfully glared at him, thinking for a moment before leaning down and kissing his boyfriend. "Now, was that real or fake?"

"Definitely real," Frank mumbled, his protests of being in dreamland effectively banished. Gerard just smiled and wrapped an arm around him, turning on a movie from Netflix before going back to playing with Frank's shaggy hair.