Spectrum (Frerard, Petekey)

12: You Don't Need A Dick To Be A Dick

Gee was curled up with her head in Frank's lap; the two lost in what they would call their own little world, with Netflix somewhat vaguely on in the background, playing something that either of them had never really much cared for, especially when they were like this with each other, both just as quietly ecstatic in regards to the newfound official nature of their relationship.

Because Frank reckoned he'd never be able to look at Gee and not do a fucking hundred double takes as he came to remind himself that this beautiful motherfucking princess was indeed his girlfriend.

And well, Gee thought Frank was a fucking idiot, but a damn cute one at that, and perhaps the most important person in the world, although he'd have to fight Mikey for that title, because Mikey was ticking all the boxes with the cute, unproblematic little brother aesthetic he was forever repping the absolute fuck out of.

"You stopped kissing me." Frank noted, groaning a little, and moving so he was lying down besides Gee, "and this is me making a formal complaint."

"You could kiss me, you know, just saying." She laughed it off, brushing her hair away from her face as she did so, "you've got lipgloss on your lips now," she added, after finally getting somewhat of a decent glance at Frank's face, "pink is totally your colour though."

"Fuck off." Frank groaned, wiping it off with the sleeve of his hoodie, and leaving an odd pink smudge against the black fabric, which of course he could give a fuck about later, at a time when the most beautiful girl in the world wasn't lying beside him, asking him to kiss her, which was indeed something Frank couldn't quite believe. "Is that better?"

"If we're going to kiss again, then it's going to get on your face again." Gee pointed out, smirking a little as Frank groaned and blushed to himself.

"You could just not wear lip gloss, you know?" Frank suggested as he lay down on his back, casually putting his arm around Gee.

"I like wearing lip gloss, it's pretty, it makes me look pretty-"

"You look pretty without it, Gee." Frank told her, and with genuine sincerity, not that Frank could ever really fathom lying to Gee about something like that.

"Yes, I know, and I look prettier with it, like unfairly pretty," she blushed, laughing it off, "but seriously, Frank, don't give me that fuckboy bullshit, I wear make up because I like it."

"Sorry." Frank smiled at her, "you're always beautiful. Anyway, don't you have to be a white straight cis boy to be a fuckboy?"

"You don't need a dick to be a dick." Gee told him, giggling to herself, "doesn't that sound snazzy, I came up with it myself, you know?"

"Snazzy." Frank shook his head, "you're a fucking idiot. But anyway, I'm not heterosexual either-"

"You're a guy that likes girls, Frank, you're straight."

And Frank wasn't even sure that he'd realised it up until that very moment, when he sat up, and gasped to himself, "oh fuck, I'm a heterosexual... me? A heterosexual? No, no... no... that's not-... nope, I refuse to use the word 'heterosexual', Jesus Christ, Gee, I'm not... no." He shook his head in disbelief, "god, I'm so fucking used to being called a lesbian, I just..."

"What's next? You're gonna tell me that you're not white because you're like one five hundredth native American-"

"I'm actually like a half Italian so-"

"Italian people are white, Frank." She shook her head, "look at your fucking skin, you're white, let the social justice warrior inside of you die, you're a straight white boy, Frank, how does that feel?"