(Mis)fortune (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter 3

"Hey, Gerard?"

"Hmm?"

"I know that we haven't known each other for a very long time, but I gotta be honest with you...your lap is pretty damn comfortable."

Frank wasn't quite sure what he was saying anymore and neither was Gerard but that didn't stop him from laughing at Frank's random statement.

"No, I'm serious, like, good job, man." Frank continued. He didn't stop the yawn that escaped his mouth because, c'mon, he had spent almost the whole afternoon and evening at work, you can't really be that surprised at his choice of words when he was so sleepy. Stuff like this happens even to the best of us. He turned his head to look up at Gerard who let out a giggle.

"Alright, Frankie, I can tell that you're tired, let's get you to bed, 'kay?" Of course they were already on their second movie as they talked. Gerard hadn't planned to stay at Frank's for so long, but he was enjoying Frank's presence and just generally having fun. Frank hadn't thought Gerard would still be there at 3 o'clock in the morning either but y'know, it was Gerard and he was tall and cute and Frank should really stop thinking about that and answer Gerard's question instead.

"Fine." Frank whined, lifting his head off Gerard's lap and standing up to turn off the TV and take out the film. He didn't even notice Gerard had gotten up from the couch until he heard something being crushed and Gerard's voice.

"Fuck." Frank had really tried not to laugh, he honestly did, but he just couldn't hold it back as his gaze landed on Gerard who was sitting in one of the boxes that were carelessly deployed all over the place. This one thankfully only read 'clothes'.

Gerard huffed as he tried lifting himself up from the evil paper thing. "Stop laughing and help me." And even Gerard himself cracked up as he thought of the situation he was stuck in. Literally. His ass was stuck in the box.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Frank promised, stepping closer and taking Gerard's hands in his. However, he might have pulled maybe a bit too much because next thing he knew their chests were crashing into each other and Gerard was only a few inches away from him. Not to mention their hands were still laced together.

Frank looked up, meeting Gerard's gaze nervously because, was this really happening? Were they doing the thing? It seemed like they were doing the thing.

"Hey." The taller man smirked. Oh dear lord, Frank thought.

"Hi." Frank blushed a little. But that was totally okay, blushing is fucking punk.

"Well," Gerard began, letting go of Frank's tattooed hands, "I should probably go." Frank could only nod and follow Gerard towards the door. The red haired man opened the door and stepped out, only turning back to look at Frank and send him a small smile and wave before he started down the hall.

Frank was about to close and lock the door but he heard a soft call of his name. He saw Gerard standing at the staircase, about to go up, looking at him.

"My flat's on the fourth floor, door number 3D, just in case you needed anything, you know where to find me." And with that being said he was gone.

*****

"Fuck no, I'm not going."

"C'mon, Frankie, it'll be fun."

"No way in hell am I coming with you, Ray."

"Why not? You've been stressing yourself lately quite a lot, you could definitely use a night out."

Ray Toro knew what he was doing and so did Frank, he wasn't stupid afterall, and he didn't like it. And more so, he didn't like that Ray was right; Frank has, indeed, been stressing himself and there was only one little reason behind it. One red haired reason called Gerard.