(Mis)fortune (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter 6

"And the winner is..."

"It's Jennifer isn't it?"

"Jennifer!"

"Fuckin' called it."

Gerard didn't think he would end up laying on the couch, his front pressed against the leather and a blanket wrapped carelessly around him, preventing him from sticking to the evil material and with the television on some stupid quiz show, but he did, he always ended up like this.

He almost got an inspiration to paint something today, the keyword being 'almost'. He even pulled out a brand new canvas and settled it up on the easel, he got his paint and brushes ready and then... nothing. The inspiration disappeared just as quickly as it had come and that's how the artist found himself on the leather surface, groaning and complaining how everyone on the show was so fucking stupid a dead mouse would get it better than those idiots.

What Gerard wasn't expecting, though, was when a soft noise sounded through the flat. Gerard's head shot up, but other than that he showed no sign of getting up. For a while he pondered if it was his parents, in that case, he would not be getting up at all and would have to tune down the sound of the television so they thought he wasn't home. But then he remembered his parents had the keys to his apartment, they didn't need to knock.

Did he just imagine it? Was he seriously hearing things now? The thought made him uneasy, to say the least, he, however, dismissed the idea when the sound came again. He let out a sigh of relief and untangled himself from the blanket, standing up and making his way through the living room towards his front door. His hand rested on top of the handle when he thought of another option.

What if it was Bert? After the fight they had the day before, he wouldn't be able to stand seeing his face for another couple of days, at least.

"Gee?" The voice was soft, that definitely wasn't Bert. And if anyone claimed Gerard smiled, even if just for a second, when he heard the voice, he probably wouldn't deny it because the thought of Frank Iero always made him smile.

He opened the door and didn't even try to hide the grin that made its way onto his face because not only Frank was indeed standing there at his doorstep with an awkward smile himself, but Sweet Pea was in his hands, excitedly dangling her tail from side to side. And when she spotted Gerard she basically jumped from Frank's arms and ran towards the artist who laughed and picked her up.

"Hey there, can't get enough of me, can you." Gerard giggled, his question aimed at the dog but you could say it worked for Frank as well.

"Hey, Frank, what brings you here?" Gerard asked when he was finished playing with the dog. He noticed the unsure look on Frank's face and then his bag and the guitar case. He furrowed his eyebrows as if asking what the hell was going on.

And Frank was sort of fucked. Actually, no, not sort of, he was completely fucked, and not exactly in the way he would like it. Because he had no freaking idea what to tell Gerard, he just walked up to his door, knocked and waited and didn't even prepare what he was going to say to him.

"I caught fire."

And only when Gerard's eyes had gone wide Frank realised that it was a very poor choice of words.

"What? Oh my God, are you alright? Are you hurt or something, oh my God, should I call the ambulance?" Gerard began freaking out and Frank mentally facepalmed himself.

"No, don't call anyone, I didn't mean it literally. My flat caught fire when- I mean... well, I came home and... no, wait I have to start from the beginning, I woke up and my hair's like fucked up so I had to use my straightener and stuff and I kind of, sort of forgot to unplug it and now my flat's like burned down, well just the bathroom and living room, but the guy said I shouldn't stay there so I'm here and I feel like a pathetic excuse for a human being for going to you because we barely know each other but Ray lives like at the other side of the world and I'm totally interrupting you from something and I'm sorry."