needles • frerard

eleven

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

What the fuck am I gonna wear?

I wanna make a good impression on Mikey's boyfriend, and also Mikey even though we've already met. Are second impressions a thing? Oh my god. Also, Gerard. He looks fucking perfect, all the time, in any outfit.

I eventually settle for a white button up and black jeans, with a studded belt and my high-top Converse. I also slip on my fingerless skeleton gloves. I stand in front of my full-length mirror, nervously going over every detail of my look. I even decided to wear makeup, something I hadn't done in years. My parents would call me a sissy and Bob would call me a freak. So I stopped. But tonight I've got a deep red smudged around my eyes and I think I look pretty good.

- - - - -

"H-H-Hey." I stammer, smiling at Gee. My stomach is churning with anxiety, but I swallow it back. "Hi." He replies as I close the front door. We walk down to his car, where he opens the door for me. My heart jumps and I swear my face turns crimson. "Th-Thanks Gerard." I mumble, smiling.

The whole car ride over, Gerard is going on and on about Fun Dip and wizards. He's a weird fuckin' guy. I realized about a week into knowing Gee that he's a genius and he's an odd one at that. I could listen to him talk for hours though. I love his voice.

"Wait, wait, wait. What's the fuckin' stick made of?"

"What?"

"The Fun Dip stick. Is it just, like, sugar?"

"Y-Yeah, I think s-so. They kinda t-taste like marshmallows."

"Ew. No they don't." He makes a face, pulling into the restaurant parking lot.

"W-Well, kinda."

"When was the last time you had a Fun Dip stick?" Gerard asks.

"I d-d-don't know, but they still s-sort of t-t-taste like marshmallows." I defend with a smile. "Whatever." He laughs, tucking a strand of dark hair behind his ear.

- - - - -

"Hi! I'm Pete!" The man says with a wide smile, holding out his hand. He's got short, dark hair that's nearly the same color as his eyes. And he's about my height, which I find amusing. "I'm F-Frank." I reply, shaking it. "Nice gloves." He does a little chin tilt, looking at my black and white skeleton gloves. "Th-Thank you." I laugh softly. We all sit down at a booth, Mikey and Pete on one side and me and Gerard on the other.

"So, what do you do?"

"I-I'm a m-musician."

"Oh really? Dude, me too!" Pete says. "Ever heard of Fall Out Boy?" He asks. My eyebrows raise. "H-Heard of th-them? Who hasn't?" I reply. The dark-haired man laughs. "I'm the bass player."

"That's p-pretty rad, man. You guys a-are good. S-So, uh, how long h-have you two b-been together?" I ask, looking over at Mikey. He pushes his glasses up. "4 months as of last week." The brown-haired man says, leaning over to kiss Pete's cheek. "Aw, c-c-cute." I smile.

"Mm, yeah. So what about you and Gee?" Pete asks. Mikey kicks him under the table.

"Ow! Dick." Pete groans, looking over at Mikey.

"I told you not to ask." He whispers harshly.

I glance at Gerard.

"I forgot! You didn't have to kick me." Pete retorts.

"You didn't have to call me a dick."

"Well if you kick me again, that'll be only dick you're getting tonight."