(Mis)fortune (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter 12

Gerard did eventually get back home at around 1 a.m. and he made so much noise it woke Frank up. Also, he was completely wasted and barely standing so Frank even had to help him get to the bathroom.

Not to mention he smelled like alcohol and sex. Frank wasn't entirely sure how sex actually smelled but when he sniffed Gerard, his senses screamed 'sex'.

"Stay here for a second." Frank told him. He left Gerard sitting on the toilet lid so he could prepare the shower for his friend. He was pretty sure Gerard had no idea as to what Frank had just said but he couldn't really do much about it.

He turned on the water and held his hand under the stream, testing the temperature, until he decided it was warm enough. He put the shower head back in place and closed the glass door. Gerard was still at the lid and had his head leaned against the wall behind him. Frank walked over to the man and nudged him softly.

"Gee, come on, let's get you out of these clothes." Oh, how Frank had wished he would be able to say these words one day. His dream came true, though in an utterly different context.

Gerard mumbled something incomprehensible and pushed himself from the cold tiles. He nearly fell over, but Frank was ready for it and steadied him.

"Will you be able to strip by yourself?" Frank lowered himself, holding Gerard by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes.

"I don't know." Gerard slurred. Frank nodded and helped him stand up. First, he took off Gerard's jacket. Gerard then tried- and failed- to unbuckle his jeans, but he just got frustrated when the buckle wouldn't open so Frank did it for him and slid the jeans down Gerard's legs. The older man went to step out of them but there was something in the way.

"Frank." Gerard whined. Frank was confused at first but when he followed Gerard's gaze, he just giggled.

"Oh, yeah, uhm... sit down." He ordered and Gerard obeyed, perching himself on top of the toilet lid again, though it was quite a hard task to accomplish because he was still fucking drunk and also his jeans were around his ankles. Frank sunk to his knees in front of the redhead and began unlacing Gerard's boots, eventually taking them off along with his socks and jeans.

Last of all, Gerard grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Frank took his hands and lifted him back to his feet. He walked him over to the shower and opened the door.

"I can take it from here." Gerard announced and stepped inside, he was trying to hold himself up by leaning against the glass, but it didn't really benefit him in any way because he slipped and fell on his ass.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Frank mumbled, shaking his head and going to assist Gerard when the artist made the decision to stand up again.

"I'm fine, I can get up by myself." And so Frank just stared with crossed arms and a doubtful expression on his face- not that Gerard would notice, he had other problems to solve at the moment- as the man on the wet floor struggled while attempting to scrape to his feet.

It was rather sad to watch so Frank chose to just stop and undress himself because at this pace, Gerard wouldn't get washed until the next spring. By the time Frank was in his boxers as well, Gerard had already given up and stayed on the floor because a) he was too drunk for this shit and b) he simply didn't give a damn anymore.

But he gave enough damn to look up when Frank joined him under the running stream. The redhead raised an eyebrow and Frank just smiled and pulled him up for like the tenth time that night, his arms were starting to hurt from all the lifting as well.

"What're you doing?" Gerard asked confusedly.

"Helping you get washed." Frank answered, holding him by the arms. "Now, turn around so we can get this over with."