This Is Our Second Skin (Frerard)

6: Gerard Way The Secret Ninja/Maybe Creepy Vampire

*above gif is of Frank after he is feeling better*

Gerard awoke at six am on the dot - not by choice, but because of his stupid fucking alarm on his phone that was currently trying to make itself heard through Gerard's pocket, which meant that it was time to get up and get ready for work.

But when Gerard forced his bleary eyes to open, he wasn't met with the familiar sight of his bedroom walls - hell, he wasn't even in his apartment at all. He was apparently sitting on a couch that wasn't his, with a strange weight in his lap, and a god awful crick in his neck from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position all night.

But just when Gerard was about to freak out, because he could only assume that he had been kidnapped some time during the night, I mean, why else wouldn't he be in his apartment unless someone had taken him from it, his gaze fell on Frankie - Frank, and last night came rushing back to him.

Gerard must have fallen asleep at some point, even though his plan had been to sneak out once Frank had drifted off, but that obviously hadn't happened, and honestly, Gerard was sort of ecstatic that it hadn't.

Because now he got to spend a little more time with Frank, and even though Frank was still in a deep slumber, Gerard found himself observing him like the creepy vampire he had sworn not to be last night, but Gerard made the logical argument with himself that if he moved, he would probably disturb Frank, and he didn't want to do that; Frank needed his rest if he was ever going to get better.

And to be fair, Gerard hadn't really had the chance to see Frank like this, defenseless and bare, not on stage and all dolled up. Last night he had been so busy worrying over Frank, he hadn't truly taken the time to look at Frank the man, not Frankie the drag queen, but Gerard liked what he saw - he liked it a hell of a lot.

Frank's hair was tangled and messy, gloriously dark and long; it would probably touch his shoulders if it was brushed and straightened, but it didn't look necessarily feminine, nothing about Frank did right now actually.

Frank was clothed in only a faded grey t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and Gerard couldn't stop staring at the ink adoring his lower legs, which was a section of skin Gerard had never seen bare before. When he was on stage, Frank usually wore leggings, leaving only his arms exposed.

Gerard was oh so tempted to lift up the hem of Frank's t-shirt, because from the tiny amount of skin that was showing, he did had more ink there, swirls, maybe lettering, and fuck - Gerard wanted to see it all, but that was taking things a little too far, and Gerard wasn't that weird - well, he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't at the very least.

So Gerard went back to gazing at Frank's face before the temptation to undress Frank while he slept became any stronger. Frank had a really pretty face, everything from his cheekbones, to his long lashes, to his eyebrows - which were so perfect they had to be plucked - were beautiful, and Gerard found it sort of unfair how attractive Frank was.

I mean - seriously, how many people can dress up as a woman, a fucking hot woman, and then look just as amazing after spending half the night throwing up and passed out on a couch, not to mention sing, and take stunning photos - it was mind boggling actually.

And even though Frank was undeniably gorgeous - dressed as a woman or a man - Gerard like this version of Frank better, the real Frank, the natural, unmade up man lying beside him was even more beautiful than Gerard could have ever imagined.

After a few more minutes spent shameless ogling Frank, Gerard realized he either had to leave now if he was going to make it to work on time...or he could call in sick. Gerard hadn't missed a day of work in ages, but he really didn't want to get up right now.