(A/n)
Requested by AloeIero
Smut gonna be in the next chapter bc I don't want to make this too long
Reader is enby, but afab
____
It is so homophobic that I can't have Leathermouth Frank 😭😭 look at him, so precious, damn
_______
_______
_______
A sigh escapes my lips as I finish cleaning the last glass and put it under the counter along with the others before setting the cloth aside. It's going to be a busy night because, apparently, a band is going to play in the club tonight and that usually brings a lot of people in. On the other hand, at least Mikey is helping me today – let's hope he doesn't fuck up with anything, but if he does, it's Gerard's problem and not mine, after all.
"Hello," a guy greets as sitting down on one of the stools.
I raise an eyebrow at him, glancing at his clothes; white, with a hand drawn black symbol on the shirt. Probably someone from the staff considering we haven't opened yet. The club is empty apart from me, the cleanse people and the ones putting the stage up. "Hi."
"A beer, please." He presses his lips together into a smile, watching me moving to grab what he asked, pouring the drink into a glass before I set it in front of him and throw the can away. "Thank you..." It's clear he wants to know my name, but I don't say anything, carrying on with my job, and proceed to clean the empty area of the counter. He frowns. "What's your name? Nice to meet you, I'm Frank."
"I'm just the one in charge of the bar," I reply simply. Giving attention to everyone isn't something very wise to do and something I didn't learn easily; most of the idiots sitting around the bar will just insult me in the moment I reject them or say gross things, so talks certainly should be avoided. Even if it isn't from a customer.
"Aw, you're not funny!" His words don't sound genuine tho, the disappointment is hidden under certain amusement. "'Bet you don't have many clients while acting like that!"
Cool, just like predicted. To be honest, getting rid of this stain here is more interesting.
"Hi, hi," Mikey greets and I glance back to see him walking in with a smile, "oh, hey, Frank! Didn't know you'd be the one playing here tonight!" He moves to next to Frank leaning his side against the counter. I observe them for a brief moment – so Mikey knows the punk, huh?
"Yeah," Frank replies excitedly, "Gerard could help us with it, so..." He shrugs, smiling. "Didn't know you work here, either."
"I don't," Mikey chuckles. "I just help here once in a while."
"Laze around, you mean," I add, glaring at Mikey. He gasps, widening his eyes, but I speak up before he's able to say anything. "Not to mention that your last time here costed us two glasses, you butter fingers. Thank hell Gerard is the only one to be scolded!"
"C'mon, you know how difficult it is to handle these," he groans. "You're just being annoying."
"And rude," Frank adds under his breath. "'Won't talk with me."
Mikey raises an eyebrow at Frank before chuckling. "Not surprising. I wouldn't talk with you either if you showed up like that, even more knowing how you can be—"
"Stop, you're supposed to be helping me!"
"(Y/n) is just this way, c'mon!" Mikey shrugs. "And you're annoying. I bet they were just doing their work." He glares, moving to serve Frank a can of soda this time after he pushed his glass forward while muttering something. I can't help but to glance at them with an amused smirk, having fun in watching how Frank shoots me a bitter look and Mikey is being suspiciously nice today.
"Cut off the sweet talk, Mikey," I say as approaching them, putting the cloth away for real this time. "I'll love you more if you work more. And you." I turn to Frank. "Yeah, you're annoying."
While Mikey chuckles, a long and dramatic whine comes from Frank. "You just met me! You're the annoying one! And even rude!"
"I don't go around attacking people for free, Frank." I shrug, leaning back against the counter with a sigh. "And insulting me because I didn't do what you wanted me to? What are you, five?" I hold back a chuckle, rolling my eyes. Part of what I'm doing is because I am not going to take his shit, but it is also entertaining seeing how Frank can react.
As predicted, the night ends up being quite agitated, but Mikey and I do have a break during the concert since people focus more on the music instead of getting drinks, what gives us the opportunity to pay attention to it too. It's a bit difficult seeing them – LeATHERMOUTH, that's the name – because of the low stage and huge crowd, in a way most of what I can see resumes itself to Frank jumping around like crazy, though he sometimes disappears in what I presume to be kneeling on the ground and my suppositions he has any sanity left are erased when I see him with the cable wrapped around his head. Cool.
Frank returns after the show is over, asking for a drink and, once again, using that shitty attitude that I do not take.
Through the time, Frank's band makes more shows in the club and, if it wasn't for Mikey there – consequently –, I probably wouldn't be sharing any word with him again. He is annoying. It is literally impossible to talk to him for longer than five seconds without being attacked and receiving a rude remark, even if it turns into some kind of weird flirting through the time.
I suppress a sharp sigh when seeing Frank approaching after another show came to an end – even so, it's still early in the night and another band took over when they left the stage.
"G'night, what d'you want?" Pete, who is also working in the bar today – because Mikey couldn't make it due to something related to Electric Century, if I'm not wrong –, is free and approaches Frank in the moment he takes a seat on a stool across the counter. Thank hell, maybe I don't have to deal with the dumbass today.
"I actually want (y/n) to fix me a drink, thank you," Frank replies without any pity and I need to hold back a chuckle at Pete's reaction; Frank smirks a bit as meeting my gaze.
Throwing the Cosmopolitan in the glass, I push it towards the woman, finally moving towards Frank. "Hey, rat, good concert. Would've been better if you weren't there." I grin, leaning forward on the counter with my hands on the edge of it.
"Very funny!" He rolls his eyes, twisting his mouth a bit. "I bet watching me performing would be the best part of your night if it actually wasn't talking with me."
"You wish, you're always counting the seconds to come here annoy me," I breathe, shaking my head. "Anyways, what do you want?"
"I'm actually not up for much alcohol today..." Frank hums thoughtful as looking at all the drinks behind me while placing his elbow over the counter and resting his cheek against his palm. "I was going for a Manhattan, but fix me a Spritz instead."
"As you wish," I mutter while moving to grab the bottles I need then coming back to prepare the drink.
"So, Mikey isn't here today?" Frank asks and I slowly nod in response.
"Yeah," I reply after a moment, having been focused on getting the right quantity of each drink in a way it isn't too bitter or too boozy, just as he likes it, "apparently he had something else to do, so we fixed someone else." I mix everything before throwing it inside a glass with ice, adding a rosemary branch for the looks, and push it towards him. "I needed to endure you moaning your ass off on that stage all by myself, unfortunately."
Frank snorts as taking the drink, shaking his head to himself. "Shut up, you wish you were the one to be making me moan like that." He takes a sip of the drink and raises his eyebrows lightly, quickly taking another sip of it.
I roll my eyes, not worrying if my reaction is dramatic as I pretend to gag. "I actually wish I was the one wrapping the cable around your neck, y'know?"
"Aw, babe," Frank groans, looking up at me from under his eyelashes, "I'd love that."
The words set a silence between us for a moment, in which I glare at Frank with disbelief and he's got that fake innocent look on, batting his eyelashes while looking at me. His look gives me this weird feeling in my chest, but I look away before I can identify whether it's good or bad, cursing under my breath at the same time he starts laughing.
"You're terrible," I tell Frank, moving away once seeing a guy taking a seat.
"A Paloma, please," the guy asks and I nod, moving to do as asked.
"I'm the best, actually," Frank replies in his usual smug tone and I can't help but to laugh, sarcastically agreeing.
"Here." I hand the guy his drink, sighing as moving to take a few empty glasses away from the counter and hand it to Pete so he can go clean them.
"Thank you, baby." The guy winks at me and here we go again. I ignore him. "What's your name? You a cutie, aren't yah? When is your shift over? Maybe I could take you home," he insists, but his words just turn into a background noise that I try to ignore as moving to the back to put away the bottles I've used. "Oh, you gonna play it difficult? 'Bet you—"
"Can you please leave them alone?" Frank's voice cuts in and I need to glance back to make sure I'm not making things up and there is Frank, glaring at the guy. "C'mon, man, if they're not giving you attention, that's a no. Accept it nicely and don't make it obvious how frustrated with yourself you are."
"Who even do you think you are?" The guy retorts bitterly.
"I'm just—"
"Y'know what, I'm not coming here anymore," the guy grumbles to himself and just downs the drink before he stands up and disappears among the crowd. Frank and I share a confused look before shrugging.
"Thank you, I guess," I sigh as walking back to Frank, leaning on the counter with my forearms over it and we're about the same level. I observe him for a moment, thinking about what he did, and there's this feeling in my stomach again. Butterflies? No, no, no. Not for him. I try my best to not let him know about what's going in my mind, not looking away from him.
"Don't worry." He smirks and that's just Frank. He's always smug and convinced of himself, not afraid of saying what he thinks or feels. What an idiot. For real, I like it. "You deserved it."
"Honestly, I don't know how to react," I confess, "because, since we met, it's been sounding like you're going to throw me from a cliff in the moment you have the opportunity to."
"I'm not like that, (y/n)," he breathes, eyes drifting down for a second as he bites back an awkward smile. "I, um— You're actually really nice. I just like fucking around with you." He shrugs and looks down at his glass, playing a bit with the remaining ice cubes. I keep observing him, not replying, so he looks at me again, raising an eyebrow.
Y'know what? Fuck it.
I glance down at Frank's lips and a red tone immediately takes over his cheeks with it, but I just lean in and am actually surprised by him meeting me halfway. I can still taste the Spritz on his lips, faintly, what ends up irrelevant under how nice and surprisingly soft they feel against mine. His mustache brushes lightly against the skin under my nose, tickling it, something I try to ignore as cupping his face and deepening the kiss as he places his hand over mine.
There's this feeling in my stomach again, followed by a nice tingling sensation that goes down my spine while a warm sensation fills my chest. Okay; it feels right, for once.
"I'm driving you home," Frank mutters against my lips, a bit breathless, just like me.
"Yeah, that'd be nice." I smirk a bit as we gaze at each other for a moment and I'm not sure about what'd happen next, but we are interrupted by Pete before I can find out. Idiot.
"Stop making out and go back to work, (y/n)," he calls from the other side of the bar and I sigh heavily, rolling my eyes as I move towards the couple who just approached the counter. "I'm going to tell Mikey about it!"
"You are not going to tell Mikey!" I glare at Pete before turning to the couple, asking what they want and quickly putting myself to prepare the two Martinis.
____________