this is old and probably shit
--
Frank was sitting up at the top of Gerard's messy bed, pillows all out of order and blankets and sheets disheveled and tangled on themselves. Gerard was sitting between Frank's spread legs, back to Frank's chest. He was working on one of his extra art assignments for school, and the last time he checked, Frank was on his phone. Everything was really cosy in Gerard's basement, despite it being cold and kind of damp feeling. They felt totally at ease with each other. There's a Smashing Pumpkins CD playing softly from the stereo, dimmed lighting from the window and a nice warm space between them making them feel all homely and grossly domestic and sweet.
Gerard felt Frank shift his legs from being wide spread out on either side of himself to Frank's chilly feet going under Gerard's crossed legs. When Gerard felt Frank poke his frigid toes on his thigh under his boxers, he jumped and slipped a bit with his pencil on the sketch paper. It also made Gerard tense up when Frank draped himself over Gerard's back and rested his chin on Gee's shoulder to see his drawing.
It made Gerard worried when Frank then slid his arms under his own and rested his hands on Gerard's stomach, over his shirt.
Right on his big, fat, disgusting stomach.
"What're you working on, Gee?" Frank muttered, seemingly unaware or Gerard's discomfort. Gerard could feel Frank's jaw bouncing on his shoulder as he talked.
"Uh," Gerard stuttered, "School art, still." He mumbled back.
Frank hummed, and then picked at the hem of Gerard's dirty black shirt. Frank brushed his finger tips on Gerard's pale stomach, to Gerard's absolute horror. This made him so nervous he started to break into a sweat, and almost shrieked when Frank slipped both hands fully under his shirt and flattened his big palms on the front of Gerard's stomach.
"Frank, no." Gerard stated firmly, dropping his pencil in a rush and gripping Frank's wrists, pulling them out from under his shirt quickly.
"Gerard? What's up baby?" Frank sounded genuinely confused as to why Gerard just lost it just because he put his hands on his soft, warm skin.
"I," Gerard faltered, he didn't want to say it. He hated saying it. Even though it's true and he can't deny it. "I'm fat."
"No, no you're not, Gerard-"
"Frank, I'm fat. I have stretch marks. It's gross."
"No-"
"I have man boobs, Frank." Gerard groaned sadly and moved his sketch book out of his lap to pull his knees up, burying his face in them.
"Gerard, stop. Look at me." Frank asked, putting a hand on Gerard's shoulder.
Gerard felt himself tear up stupidly, and he felt like Frank was going to be mad at him. Anxiety started to fester in his thoughts and made him worried that Frankie was going to leave him if he ever saw, and not just felt what is under his clothes. It's fucking gross. He is going to hate it and realize that Gerard is not as attractive as he thought. His chest and throat felt constricted at these thoughts, because he loves Frank so much and desperately doesn't want to loose him.
Gerard sniffed quietly and turned his head a bit over his shoulder, he caught Frank's concerned gaze and took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
"Baby, don't cry, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry, come here, please." Frank said guiltily, moving his hand from Gerard's shoulder to push his boyfriend's black, greasy hair out of his face.
Gerard uncurled himself and shifted around to face Frank, still trying to hide his own face. Frank cupped Gerard's squishy cheeks in his hands and ducks down to try and see Gerard's face through the curtain of long hair in the way. Gerard pushed his bangs behind his ear and Frank giggled.
