Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

After Working Hours

DEFINITELY AU

SMUTSMUTSMUT

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS FOR SEX REPULSED PEOPLE

Gerard liked to think that he was far more important than he really was. Having said that, he was pretty important - well, in relative terms to his bosses, maybe not so much. Although, how else would the bosses get their donuts and coffees and whatever else they desired on constant demand, if it weren't for him?

Gerard supposed that they'd just hire someone else. But Gerard also doubted that anyone would be better at this job than he. He was pretty obedient, and could tolerate a lot of dickheads. He tried his utmost best not to link this to the fact that he was an undeniable bottom when it came to gay sex, because he supposed that it was beside the point. Sex and work don't mix, he'd always told himself. This personal rule was set to be broken, however, it seemed.

Gerard worked as a personal assistant at Robert & Raymond's, a record label owned by two of the most notorious music businessmen in the industry. Gerard would never get that far up in the chain, though; he could only dream of serving the big bosses. For now, he was stuck on Level Three - waiting hand and foot on this douchebag called Gabe Saporta who no one really cared about. And God, was he arrogant.

But there was something that Gerard couldn't deny: Gabe was fucking hot. Not the "Let's get married and have cute as fuck little punk rock babies" kind of hot, but more the "I'd totally suck you off in the bathroom if you asked nicely" kind of hot.

And though Gabe had certainly hinted at Gerard about the latter in the past, he had never, ever said please, so Gerard had decided that he really didn't deserve it at all.

Frank Iero from Level Five - well, Frank Iero was definitely the former. He wasn't just hot, he was gorgeous. Frank was the type of dream guy that Gerard had fantasized about as a teenager. He was edgy, with a few tattoos and piercings, but it was toned down by his caring hazel eyes, his unruly mop of brown hair, and the sharp arcs of his almost perfect eyebrows (which definitely seemed far too pruned for him to appear to have a strictly heterosexual nature).

Gerard thought that the company should just rename themselves to Cockbert & Gaymond's, considering that it seemed like no one who worked there was actually straight.

And thus the topic of homosexuality and one Mr Frank Iero brings us to the present. The present consists of a Friday.

After exiting the elevator too quickly, effectively tripping over his own feet, Gerard managed to collide right into Frank as he was leaving the office for the night.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," Gerard was saying over and over, staring timidly down at the man, who was sprawled all over the floor with coffee stains seeping into his white dress shirt and soaking the paperwork that was now a chaotic mess at his feet. Frank looked down at his shirt, and then slowly dragged his gaze back up at Gerard, cracking a smile.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It was an accident." He stuck out his hand and Gerard took it, pulling Frank to his feet.

"I'm still sorry, because when I was a kid, my mom told me to be sorry even when you do things that you don't mean to," Gerard said, beginning to ramble. Frank stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"I told you, it's okay, er... Wait, now I'm sorry," Frank said, scratching his head distractedly. "This is so embarrassing, but I've forgotten your name. We met briefly at last year's Christmas party, right? You're Gabe Saporta's assistant?"

Gerard was just thrilled that Frank even remembered who he was, going far enough to treat himself to a mental fistpump.

"Unfortunately," he answered, nodding. Frank giggled slightly, shattering Gerard's heart into pieces right then and there. "My name's Gerard."