Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

Pretend

AU FIC

Dearest fucking diary,

I haven't written in a while, wow. Not since, what, freshman year? What a dork I was back then. I'm in senior, by the way.

So why am I writing now? What's changed? Answer: my feelings for him.

And I hate it, so fucking much. I guess my stupid heart managed to convince me that falling for my best friend was not only a good idea, but one that would somehow end in a happily-ever-after or some other shit to that effect.

To cut a long story short, my heart was significantly wrong in every way.

It's like, every day of my life I feel as though I'm pretending. To me, every day is just another lie, ESPECIALLY whenever I'm around him. And what hurts most is that that he doesn't even know, that he doesn't understand. It hurts that he'll only be a friend and nothing more, and that I can't talk to anyone about it because, well... I have no one else, and talking to him would probably defeat the entire purpose of pretending. Also, I've just decided: it's actually the pretending that hurts. Pretending hurts like hell. So, yeah...

Anyway, I have to go now because my mother's calling me down for dinner.

Sincerely yours,

Gerard

"So," Frank says, flipping a page in his comic book, "tomorrow's opening night. You're gonna have to finally face the big kissing scene, huh?"

He asks this like he already doesn't know. This has been his favourite topic to bring up lately; the much dreaded scene that I certainly did not agree to, not that I agreed to being cast as the hero of the play in the first place. I had only auditioned for extra credit, not to obtain the leading role.

"Yeah, yeah, Frankie," I reply, feeling a little awkward just talking about it. My throat is dry and I can feel myself blushing. I scratch my head absent-mindedly.

"You'll be fine, you know. You big nerd." He tears his gaze away from the page he's supposedly reading and shoots me a small smile, peering up at me through his dark fringe. The corners of my mouth turn up.

"Maybe, but I'm like the world's biggest kiss-virgin. It's going to suck."

"Of course it's going to suck, you idiot. Unless you're not allowed to use tongue. Are you?"

I roll my eyes, shake my head in a vigorous 'no', and Frank laughs his big crazy, giggly laugh. I eventually join in too, and it intensifies as he struggles to position himself onto his back. He misjudges the space between him and the wall, effectively tipping himself over the edge of my bed. His arms flail around for a second and I'm still laughing, but it stops abruptly as he slips headfirst off the bed. This moment comes in a series of small noises: beginning with the thump of his head hitting hard against the floorboards, and ending in the soft oomph of his backside hooking under the bottom of the bedframe as his hips crumple inward. His legs are awkwardly bent over the edge of the mattress, and if I weren't so surprised, I'd have probably only laughed harder at its comical manner.

"Fuck, that hurt," Frank groans, pushing himself all the way off the bed. His body slithers closer to me as it straightens like a crease being ironed out, leaving his head to lie right between my open legs. My best friend stares up at me, already starting to grin. I grin back, but my eyes hide something deeper.

We're still grinning like fools an hour later, but it doesn't last for long.

"Just remember, I'm only doing this to help you get over your nerves for tomorrow." Frank laughs loudly. "I'm helping you practise for kissing some chick you don't even know that well. No homo."

"No homo," I repeat, firmly nodding my head once. My heart aches momentarily and I think, so, this is it. My first proper kiss.

Without hesitation, Frank leans forward and attaches his lips to mine, pulling away almost a second later. His hand flies to his mouth and he steps back in horror. I hang my head in shame, as if it's being pulled downward with the heaviness of my heart, which has suddenly become nothing but a useless weight in my chest. The air in the room suddenly changes from its normality of silliness to an eruption of anger faster than I'd ever anticipated it changing in both mine and Frank's lifetime as friends.

"What the fuck was I thinking? Why did you let me do that?" Frank snaps stiffly, his face livid. He stamps a foot on the ground, the strength of the sound making me jump.

"You're not - Frank, I thought you were bi? Why are you upset with me?" I cry in desperation, my hands framing my face as I tug on my hair. However, his irate expression falls once he sees me properly, through all of his cloudy emotions, and his eyes are cast downward in the strangled moments that follow.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Gerard, please," he mumbles sorrowfully, glancing up to meet my gaze again. He moves forward and touches my arm comfortingly. "It's not - I'm not homophobic, you know that. I was just, I don't know, scared? I'm sorry I yelled at you. I overreacted, big time."

I stare at Frank for a long time, just taking in every little feature that I love about his physical appearance. He may not see it, but he's perfect to me; from the curve of his eyebrows to the curve of his smile, I want it all. I want to be able to hold him in my arms and kiss every inch of him, I want to be able to savour his taste on my lips, and I want to be able memorise his body like it's a poem. A famously beautiful poem; words skilfully woven to create a romantic masterpiece. But Frank is a whole other masterpiece entirely. My chest feels raw just from looking at him, and knowing that he'll never want me the same way I want him. He's never going to be mine.

"Scared of what though?" I ask slowly, my voice tinged more with a mixture of curiosity and pain, rather than anything else.

"Scared of the fact I was all of a sudden kissing my best friend, and the fact that it should have been so fucking foreign in my mind - but it wasn't. Most of all, I was scared of enjoying it." Frank shifts from foot to foot on the spot, clasping and unclasping his hands together in front of him. He looks afraid, almost. "I didn't want to enjoy it."

"But why not?"

I fear the answer, but it comes exactly as I expect it to.

"Because, Gerard, you're my best friend in the whole fucking world and I can't feel anything more for you because that would risk what we already have. I can't live without you by my side, you're my anchor, you know? There might have been something once, but I've moved on. You're only my friend, and that's all you'll ever be. I love you, just... not like that."

I nod, because that's all I can do. It's still a much unwanted blow, even if it was predicted, and his confession leaves only a mindless nod in its wake - on my part at least. The aftermath of his words curses my heart with a million knives, all flying in at once and causing my breath to hitch involuntarily.

"I love you too."

My best friend smiles, and I simply continue to pretend - my weak smile as fake as the onstage kiss of the next day.

A/N

so this actually hurt my feels a lil bc even though i think its rly shit this is actually a situation that i have to deal with right now so the things that gerard is feeling are actually an interpretation of what i'm feeling right now. ily guys, dont forget to request stories ((((;

always remember,

farnk iero

**Olzy Olz**

ps. i hate the new wattpad so much omfg im having so much trouble with it ewwwww .... .. . .