Lazy Sunday {Frerard Oneshot}

AN: Hey guys, first post! Have fun with this one. This was mostly to help me practice dialogue and couple-adorableness? Yeah. Also, muy importante: some Unholyverse references in here that might be confusing to some people, just ignore them if you haven't read that fic (which you definitely should!) Also, wattpad made me edit this for inappropriate content, so this isn't my orginal work, but it's pretty damn close. If anything sounds a little off, this is probably why. Anyways, enjoy ;) -Aly

“Shit, I – I can’t, ah fuck!”

The Jurassic Park theme blasted from my phone, so I twisted from underneath Gerard to answer it. He shot me a deadly look.

Trying to calm my breathing, I answered, “Oh, hey Bryer, what’s up?”

Gerard nudged my ribs and hissed, “What the fuck, we’re in the middle of something!”

I waved at him impatiently. “Dude, it’s just Bob, he doesn’t care. Now hurry up!”

“Not while you’re on the phone, prick!”

“You’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place, cocksucker!”

He knocked his hip sharply against mine, and I cried out in discomfort. “Ow, you fucker, I’m sensitive there!” I yanked on his hair. 

“God, Frankie, stop messing around! Just let me fucking move!”

“Fine, asshole, you do all the work.” I leaned back and spread my legs for easy access.

“Fuck, finally.” He went in deeper. “Oh, shit, I’m so close-“

“Um,” Bob’s voice crackled in my ear as Gerard’s face lit up in elation. “Are you guys busy?”

“Yeah, we’re making breakfast,” I sighed as Gerard’s hand emerged from the cabinet with the skillet we’d been searching for. “Listen, I’ll call you back later.”

“Alright man. Jesus be with you.” I rolled my eyes.

I tossed my phone in the corner and glared at him. “You don’t have to be such a bitch, you know.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation, standing up and brushing the dust off his jeans. “Says the guy who called me a cocksucker.”

He pulled me up from my cramped position on the floor, steadying himself on the stovetop. I smirked. “So? You are one.”

“Yeah, but I won’t be if a certain asshole keeps this act up.”

I scoffed and playfully punched him in the stomach. “You know, using sex as a weapon is a warning sign of an abusive relationship.”

“Now I’m the bad guy, huh? Should we add physical abuse to my record?” He hit me in the head with the frying pan, which actually stung a little. 

“What the fuck, I just got my split ends trimmed!”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re so girly.”

“Dude, I’m totally justified.” I cradled my scalp. “You just crippled my roots for life. I’m balding early, I can feel it.” I ripped the skillet out of his hands. “And at least I’m a cool girl, unlike someone I know.”

“I’m cool!” he said indignantly. He strode over to the fridge and tore it open with so much force that some of the magnets popped off. “A word to the wise, my dear comrade: one’s skin does not constitute one’s badass-ness.” He ran a few fingers over his painfully bare forearm.

I tried not to stare at his ass as he bent down to reach for the eggs. Stupid tantalizing skinny jeans. Fuck. Resistance is futile. “Nice ass, thy majesty.”