Demolition Lovers (Frerard)

13: The Battle Of The Emos

Needless to say, Gerard was more than a little confused as Frank dragged him towards a particularly dodgy looking house, and it really didn't help that Frank seemed to utterly refuse even the concept answering a single question: and Gerard was pummelling him with questions by the dozen.

"Gerard, please, just- just shut up, for a minute, please. This is complicated." Frank's excuse was just so out of touch with adequacy, that Gerard stopped for a minute to wonder as to whatever Frank was even trying here, and maybe that was exactly what Frank had wanted, as it certainly shut the artist up for a moment or two.

"You told me you'd explain." Gerard protested: all puppy dog eyes and smiles, but Frank wasn't interested, turning away from his boyfriend and slamming his finger down against the doorbell with enough vigour to ensure that it fucking hurt.

The loud ring seemed to silence Gerard, momentarily, at the least, so perhaps the ache in Frank's finger was worth it - it wasn't all that important, anyway: it was only his index finger, and everyone knew that the only finger Frank found any use in was his middle finger.

Within seconds, Lindsey had answered the door, shaking her head and grinning at Frank, before pulling him into a bone crushing hug without a word of warning, and leaving Gerard to stare there awkwardly as he glared in the most jealous manner he could muster, and really, he was doing better than he had expected, so today was good for that, at the very least.

"Fucking hell, Frankie, I've missed you." Lindsey finally pulled away from the twenty four year old, letting him breathe, which was really quite lovely of her, because it was highly doubted that she'd be all that appreciated for killing off poor Frank Iero via the means of accidental suffocation: Gerard would definitely kill her for that, after all, it was only fair. And then, Alicia would feel left out, and probably shoot Gerard for the hell of it, and then Pete would get pissed off because he would have thought that Gerard was cute, and kill Alicia for killing him, and then Pete would just stand there looking at all his dead friends as he worked on getting himself a new lawyer, and a good one, because for a mess like that, he would need one.

Fortunately, or unfortunately - it really does relate to perspective, that didn't happen and Lindsey Ballato did eventually let go of the twenty four year old, and they carried on living, and Gerard carried on glaring, because he was really pulling off the jealous boyfriend act very well by now, and he hadn't even had all that much practice.

"This is Gerard, my boyfriend." Frank turned to the artist, introducing him to Lindsey, who was really not appreciating the way she was being glared at right now, but she'd keep it civil, for Frank's benefit, at the very least: she couldn't personally see any reason as to why Frank wanted to date this scowling emo manchild, but whatever - that wasn't her place to judge.

"Hey." Lindsey forced out a smile, leaving Gerard to copy her, but not managing a result anywhere near as good as Lindsey's.

"Hey. You're Lindsey, I guess?" Gerard sighed out, biting down on his bottom lip, and trying his best not to make eye contact with Frank, who had suspected by now that there was just some sort of unspoken feud between the two, but he still hadn't quite figured it out, and within a few minutes, it was likely that he'd even forget all about it.

"Yeah. Right, come on, inside - I told Pete not to be weird, okay, but he's had an excessive amount of alcohol already and probably twice that much now that I've left the room for a few minutes." Gerard could only shrug her comment off as he followed her into the kitchen: wondering just how much he'd want to punch Pete in the face on a scale of one to ten - right now, he was guessing at least a seven or so.

Pete and Alicia looked up as the three of them made their way into the kitchen, Frank kicking the door closed behind him with his foot, and Pete's face practically lighting up at the sight of his favourite prostitute, and with that grin, Gerard reckoned he was up to a nine on his scale right now.