frerard one shots | ✔️

eighty-three ~ stuck on you

Gerard looked around the tavern, unamused. Mikey hadn't wanted to come out with him that night—he was doing something with Pete and Patrick, and Gerard honestly didn't want to know if they were a thruple or not, so he hadn't pried about what he was actually doing. But it was Friday night, and Gerard usually took someone home on Fridays, so he didn't really mind that Mikey wasn't there with him. 

I can have fun on my own, he thought, but right now, he wasn't making a great case for himself. He was at the end of the bar, guarding his lemonade and looking around the space for someone he could take home, but all he could think about as he watched the patrons was how they were acting. He'd completed his bachelor's in literature a couple of years prior, and instead of brooding, he thought he might do some people-watching and create some stories for the patrons.

There were four people in a booth in one of the corners of the tavern, and as Gerard sipped his drink, he made up a story. They were clearly on a double date, and it made sense since they looked like they were sitting with their partners on either side of them. The couple sitting in the booth that was facing him was pressed together, and the woman's hand was clearly on the man's thigh, but the man was leaning forward, looking deeply into the eyes of the man who sat across from him. In his head, Gerard constructed a tale about the man's closeted homosexuality, adding in details about a conservative family but liberal friends and beliefs, about how everyone expected him to be with his current girlfriend, but he was much more interested in his best friend.

Gerard looked away and took a sip of his drink, trying not to be too conspicuous.

Then, there was an old woman he peeked at. She was sitting at the bar alone, and her posture was relaxed, but her eyes held some kind of anxiousness. Her drink was clearly non-alcoholic, and she was looking at her phone. Maybe she was waiting on someone, or maybe she was revisiting memories of when she had someone to wait for.

Gerard's heart stirred for her, so before he made it too real, he looked away, rolling his eyes at himself, and finishing his lemonade. It was time he left; writing stories about people in his head wasn't going to convince anyone to come home with him, especially not any girls, and tonight, he was in the mood for a girl. They were gentler, usually wanted to kiss more than the men Gerard brought home, and usually wanted him to top, and Gerard was in the mood to kiss a lot and wasn't in the mood to bottom. But alas, he was being a creep, so maybe, he thought, maybe tonight wasn't his night.

He was about to leave a few dollars as a tip on the counter under his empty lemonade glass, but someone sat down next to him, body pivoted for conversation. He was a man, and Gerard wasn't in the mood until he heard the man's voice.

"Hey, yeah just two of whatever my friend here just finished."

Gerard smirked. He knew exactly who it was. "You probably knew I was going to be here or something," he started, but Frank shook his head.

"I actually had no idea you didn't move out of the city," he replied, and when the bartender brought them both new glasses of lemonade, he gave Gerard a look. "Sober has never been a word to describe you, Way, I'm surprised."

Gerard couldn't help the smile that danced on the edge of his lips. "I was looking for someone to buy a drink for, and I didn't want to get too fucked up."

"That's also surprising..."

"Why? Can't I pick up girls at bars, Iero?" Gerard shot back, feigning offence.

"Well..." Frank said, a wicked grin splitting his face. "I always thought you were... you know, a bottom. Because of the way you acted around me."

He leant forward towards Gerard a little bit, and suddenly, Gerard was reminded of his college years. Frank had been the professor's assistant for a class that met three times a week. It was rare to have a class that met so often, but it was a seminar class, one that you took for three semesters as a literature major. The first semester he took the class was the spring of his junior year, and he felt indifferent about it. It was just like any other seminar class, the reading was just a little more interesting. But the fall and spring of his senior year, it became his favourite class, solely because Frank was in it.